RP:Ault visits Larket
This is part of the A Larket Assassination Attempt story arc.
Erristyn's Office
Entering the medium sized office it is easy notice the simple elegance used in the decoration process. All material objects in the room are in the proper places, neat and tidy. Though on further inspection several pieces begin to seem sharper and far livelier than previous view. The dark, polished mahogany floor supplies a satisfying thump as soles move over it. A thick indigo rug, edges frayed from years of wear, is set before a stately black walnut desk. The beautiful aged wood is lit cleverly with a pair of thick white candles at either of the front ends. As with the floor, the desk is polished with the same noble glimmer. Truly this is the office of Larket's Lady. Bookshelves line the walls with several volumes of past and present affairs filling their narrow mouths. Between the myriad of texts is one seemingly out of place bookshelf. Instead of literature, this quaint bookshelf holds bottles upon bottles of aged whiskey. A shelf of indulgence for her favorite of liquids. Jacklin's desk is littered with parchments and projects that are in need of approving or finishing. Modest oaken chairs are settled along the right wall as well, perhaps for meetings with the Queen. On the left sets a lazy looking couch, patched up with various swatches of cloth and leather. Yet another item that shows the coarse and common outlook she still holds even in her position. The couch remains a place for easy conversations with those she finds in good company, no formalities allowed. Near the back of the room is a case which holds a collection of spears. The size and make vary from each tool to the next. These weapons seeming to be one of the more treasured things in the room. Upon departure from the office, a final noteworthy object is found on the wall behind Jacklin's desk. The bold word 'Triton' is carved into the wall. Any who've read the annals of Hollow would surely know the meaning. A touching homage to a world left behind.
Queen Jacklin is here.
Sapheul Fedallah is here.
Ault Fredik is here.
Queen Jacklin lifted a deep cobalt eye to the door. Another rap had come and Sapheul sat up in seat for no other reason than to copy the movements of his Queen. Once again the metallic sound rung again with a louder, stronger force while chestnut and grey curls sung loosely into her eyes. Though neither the guard nor Jacklin moved she did lift her voice gently in his direction, “I’m not expecting anyone.” Was it rhetorical? Sapheul roused himself from the low couch and headed for the door with slow steps and a dedicated hand reaching for the small black knife tucked into the waistband of his pants. Guards announced their presence on the other side of the door and keepers of the hall were never so quiet as to alarm Jacklin. Over his shoulder the bodyguard serviced a strict word to the Queen to ready herself should she need to run of duck. Arm flexed, knife held tight between rough fingers, Sapheul opened the door to…Ault Fredik. He looked a little worse for wear. Hair greased and thrown astray, a few cuts down his jaw and cheek were still red and puffy with freshness. On his body hung what remained of a custom fit jacket and trousers. The black velvet had been cut and combed by something…or someone. Sapheul took in Ault’s appearance for a swift few seconds and turned his body to the side with eyes returning to his Queen’s face, “Lord Ault seems to have gone fishing,” commented the guard. Discreetly his pointed to his nose to ready Jacklin for the male’s terribly fishy smell. It was as if a cod had died in his pockets long ago. Ault came through the door with the true stagger of a man who’d had the night of his life, “Your husband’s office is losked.” He thrust an indignant finger at Jacklin before correcting his own error, “locked.”
As Ault entered, Jacklin sat quietly in front of the bumbling patron. The face of Sapheul was pinched and clenched in an effort to avert the laughter bubbling in his belly and throat. A hand fell to her stomach; a sigh fell from her lips. Had the man known Parsithius was away from the office for the moment? The last time she’d had a seriously talk with Ault it had been in reference to his liberal use of her husband’s office. This wasn’t exactly the meeting she’d liked to have had again with the man. Rubbing her stomach gently the sounds of Ault’s indignant breathing grew louder and heavier with the passing silence. Finally, in an effort to avoid Sapheul needing to forcible remove the wealthy man from Larket, Jacklin spoke, “Why would you need to be in Parsithius’s office, Lord Fredik? He isn’t within the hall at the moment and he certainly hasn’t any business with you that I know of.” Daring to step over the line she glanced at Sapheul to make certain he’d be there just in case Ault decided to use some of that liquid courage to his advantage, “I hope you have no intention of using his desk again for less than savory activity with whatever harlot you’ve stationed outside our gates.” Mistaken in her words was the Queen. Neither of them had seen the small pocket knife Ault brandished in his curled palm and with a quick act he’d made it known to the Queen just what was in there. Arm rose with such speed that it was all but impossible for the aged warrior to push herself away from him. Sapheul lunged forward but at the same moment, so had Ault. His exceptional maneuvering led the precise blade tip to sink just at her shoulder and slice downward in a deep flay of soft flesh. It was then the entire force of Sapheul came down on Ault with a grunt and groan splashed from the floor as they landed. Gown strap had been severed and the Queen grabbed at both cloth and bleeding shoulder. Standing from the desk she succeeded in not only knocking the chair back but nearly tripping over it in all the frenzy. With a hand clutching the ripped gown and rivulets of thick blood trickled down her forearm until reaching fingertips where their fat droplets swelled and fell to the stone below. “Get him out of here!” In all the weeks of her pregnancy…this was perhaps the first time the voice of the Executioner had rung true. Eyes flashed with so formidable a furor that those guards standing at the door took nearly a step back before rushing inside and flushing Ault from the room.
Blood always made things appear much worse than they were...sometimes. Wincing the Queen applied harder pressure against her shoulder while standing near her desk. Sight followed after the guards as they barked orders to secure the hall and find the sheriff. Sapheul could be seen rushing through the corridors and past her doorway several times. “Where’s Parsithius?” was the cried verse of the day. Jacklin knew once the King got his hands on Ault, there would be no more Ault. It was a bad thing for the man, a bad thing for Larket, and a terribly bad thing for the wounded warrior standing alone in her office. Blood continued its gravity defined path down her arm and she certainly knew with this amount, he’d manager to hit a vein of some sort. People didn’t simply bleed like this for no reason. A cut warranted some blood. A stab a bit more…and a stab to a vein delivered the amount currently streaming down her side. Moving her hand to the side to inspect the damage she jumped ever so slightly at the shadow in her doorway. Thankfully Sapheul had appeared again and not another crazed patron smelling of fish and brandishing some small weapon. Returning her hand to the wound she moved slowly around the desk to where Sapheul was, “I should go to the healer…right?” Jacklin was asking him what to do. For a woman so strong in her mind and sharp in words…she didn’t know what to do here. Fingers felt numb and limbs shook now and again. Sapheul nodded and held her by the elbow while instructing the other guards to find the King right this second. In the main meeting room Sapheul halted them both, “How about we fetch Ikked?” His Queen looked a little worse for wear, he noticed. Face had grown colder and those small drops of sweat had started to rub against the sides of her temple. Placing Jacklin into a seat he sent a quick command to a guard and awaited the return of both guard and healer. When the two finally arrived some minutes later he stepped aside so as to allow Ikked whatever space he needed. “Would someone like to tell me about this?” One of Parsithius’s captains returned to Sapheul’s side with a quiet ‘we can’t find him’ whispered. In return, the swarthy guard growled his demands, “Find him!” Hunched in the chair, Jacklin lifted an eye to Ikked and motioned for her shoulder, “Ault Fredik…he’s a patron of Larket. The King and I caught him abusing some office furniture once. He came in here looking for Parsithius and found me instead. I’ve been hearing things about his behavior lately. I didn’t pay it any mind since I know how people tend to run their tongues without any evidence behind it. Now-,” words were cut by a sharp gnash of pain, shrill and long as Ikked pushed her hand off and inspected the point of entry and path it was drug down. Lips pinched from one side to the other. “…now I fear we’ve lost a patron and I know Parsithius will be removing his life from this land as soon as he finds out,” she finally finished. Jacklin didn’t cry as some might have. This was a mere flesh wound to the Queen but when it also involved the safety of the small person she carried around now…it had her heart beating a little fast and the meaning of the word ‘scared’ seemed to be nipping at her heels. Jacklin was…scared. Not because of the attack but because Parsithius couldn’t be found and Ault was still being drug through the hall as they spoke. The fear for a child she didn’t have just yet was a completely new sensation for her. Lifting her shoulder she winced inwardly and let Ikked handle the flesh with his soft hands. “No magic?” With a snort she shook her head, “No magic. I don’t know what it might do to something.” Larket’s healer nodded slowly once stumbling upon her true meaning. Without protest he applied a light wrap of gauze to soak up some of the blood.
Lady Larket would generally be grumbling by this point if Sapheul hadn’t brought her a glass of milk and ‘asked’ her to drink. There was something good about milk to help with the burn, he’d said. Jacklin didn’t think too highly of it but she drank as instructed and watched Ikked rummage around his bag of goods. A cloth soaked in some kind of aloe was wrapped around both shoulder and down her arm until reaching the elbow. Once applied, the red broke through without much hesitation. Three more layers were applied by Ikked until the red turned into a faint pink at the outermost wrap and Jacklin breathed a little easier. It still hurt but she figured the man knew what he was doing more than she did. Resting back her eyes were treated to a few guards hustling back down the corridors of the hall. Presumably to where Ault was being held until the sheriff could gather accounts and Parsithius could be notified. By the time her husband found out…Ault would be waiting out the hours of his life for a shorter time. As an added bonus, after Ikked had finished wrapping her in gauze and heavier cloth he stitched up the strap of her gown so to avoid a rather embarrassing display. If the Queen hadn’t been tired before…she was now. Sapheul stepped to her side with another guard and spoke a few words of gratitude to Ikked. “Parsithius is on his way back now, ma’m. He should be here shortly enough to check on you and make a little visit to Ault down there. He’ll not be given a trial due to his attempt at assassinating the Queen and his plan on doing the same to your husband.” Finishing the milk with a sour expression she manages to get to her feet with a hand resting on her stomach. Not that Jacklin approved of what Ault had done…but she needed to find another patron to fill his place, “You’re right. Even so…we’ll need to find another to replace him. He wasn’t the wealthiest of our patrons. We shouldn’t have trouble finding another to fill his shoes. I would prefer we screen this one a little better.” Sapheul was given a meaningful look as he took her elbow and led her back inside the office. There, she melted down onto the couch with a hiccupy sigh and placed a hand on her stomach and the other on her shoulder. This day had turned into something else. “You may go,” was the phrase offered to Sapheul. Jacklin wanted to be alone with her clawed shoulder and broken pride for now.
Jacklin idly itches at the wrap on her shoulder and arm. A flask of whiskey would be absolutely perfect right now. Smoothing the stray hair back from her face, the Queen decided to venture back into the throne room. The burn in her shoulder was no worse than it had been earlier and the blood felt as if it were clotting nicely under the layers of bandage. Rousing herself to her feet she started toward the door and pushed it open to a few too many pairs of eyes. Guards were there, captains from the army, and even a few of Roelstra’s elite rangers had been called in. All hands were on deck. It wasn’t that Jacklin had underestimated an assassination attempt on the ruling monarchs of Larket…it was more that she’d never really experienced it to this level before. Parsithius had yet to arrive at the hall and Sapheul did a half turn to face the Queen standing in the doorway. As he stepped in her direction she gave a shake of her head, “Just stay here,” was the command. Turning eyes around to the rest of the guards and soldiers…it went for them as well. Sure in the fact that none would be following her as she moved to the next room, Jacklin entered the silent throne room in an echo. Footsteps bounded and sounded off the high stone walls and her shadow popped up and down as she went along. Outside the door she heard a few of the motionless guards shuffle into place by the door, “Directions were followed precisely,” came the whisper to herself. Reaching the dais her eyes lingered on the place Jack, Leoxander’s dog, had sat happily chewing on the bone Parsithius found for him. Rumors had been floating around about the man but Jacklin said nothing of concern about them. He was the brother of her husband and their business was their own. To condemn the man was to weaken the tie with Parsithius…if by a miniscule amount. Jacklin didn’t want to do that. With the news of so many separating, couples that had been considered strong and solid; the Queen was determined not to slip in her bond. Whatever it took to keep it together, she would do it. Settled down into the throne she kept her shoulder forward and balanced her forehead in an open palm. Her head hurt from thinking and her shoulder hurt from Ault’s idiotic scheme. The more Jacklin sat to think about Ault, she more she wouldn’t mind killing him with her own hands. Although she knew she’d never get close to him with all the guards and soldiers milling around. With the bottoms of her palm she rubbed the pain from her eyes and fixated sight on where Jack had been while she thought of what to do now.