(([b:8df5500825]OOC:[/b:8df5500825] Some of these are posts that were originally on the Whispers of Shal Ka Mense thread but have been brought across to maintain story continuity. Please enjoy! :lol: ))

This was Serai's favorite part of her position as Lady C.'s estate manager. The part that gave her authority to do things she enjoyed, even if they were in her lady's name. Picking up the phone she dialed the number of her contact quickly and impatiently waited for the call to go through. When it did, she licked her lips in anticpation. She always enjoyed a bit of wheeling and dealing. Given how long they'd been gone, surely [b:8df5500825]something[/b:8df5500825] had come available by now!

[i:8df5500825]"Good afternoon, Kinnsters Antiquities and Exotic Imports"[/i:8df5500825] The voice on the opposite end wheezed to a close. [i:8df5500825]"How may I be of service?"[/i:8df5500825]. Serai smiled sardonically at the refinement of the name that covered up the sordid reality of the proprietor's actual business. [i:8df5500825]"And a pleasant day to you, too, Albert. I was hoping you'd have some good news for me."[/i:8df5500825] The ghoul purred in to the receiver in hopes this would bring the voluable man straight to the objective.

Albert, if left to his own devices, could drone on and on about his favorite hobby, which was antiques. It took quite a bit to get him to switch over to the less savory part of their business relationship. If the man hadn't been so discreet, reliable and eminently trustworthy in his dealings, she'd have moved on to more worthy dealers a long time ago.

[i:8df5500825]"Ah, my dear Angelique. Are you looking to place your usual order?"[/i:8df5500825] Eagerness swept all considerations aside and the woman had a brief mental picture of the corpulent man sitting atop an order pad, pen poised to write. [i:8df5500825]"No, dear man, I'm afraid the company has discontinued that line of business."[/i:8df5500825] The coo had disenchanted sincerity dripping from it. A gasp of horror escaped from the other end.

It probably seemed, to the poor merchant, that he was about to loose one of his best paying customers. After all, Lady C. had been buying her poisons, weapons, special clothing and supplies as well as other custom made needs from him for years. Serai hastened to assure him that all was not lost. [i:8df5500825]"I realize this comes as a shock to you but one must change with the times. That particular line was becoming obsolete and rather than continue to run the danger of being caught with merchandise we couldn't move, we made the decision to upgrade and consolidate the corporation. I'm sure you'll understand why we chose this step rather than take the risks."[/i:8df5500825]

She could almost see his nod of acquiesence as he absorbed the double meanings of the imparted news that Cyrilynn would not be plying her trade as the Scorpion any longer and, therefore, would not need a steady quantity in the future. Not that he knew of her alternate identity or even who it was that was behind the woman known as "Angelique". Merely that she was a front for the real purchaser. She doubted that even Albert was [b:8df5500825]his[/b:8df5500825] actual name!

[i:8df5500825]"Not to worry, my friend,"[/i:8df5500825] she hastened to add, [i:8df5500825]"the owner of the organization is still very much intent on acquiring objects of oriental weaponry and the like. I was asked to find out if anything had surfaced recently?"[/i:8df5500825] There was a gusty sigh from the factor as he, once again, felt money slip from his grasp [i:8df5500825]"No, I'm afraid the market has been tighter than a horses.......uh, I beg your pardon, my dear. You get the picture."[/i:8df5500825] The young woman winced at the crudity of it.

[i:8df5500825]"However,"[/i:8df5500825] the voice brightened perceptibly, [i:8df5500825]"I have come across a gentleman that might be more fitted to your acquisitions. He's an older man that is very knowledgeable and has contacts for exotic weaponry. Katana, wakazashi, nun-chuks, shuriken and even more hard to get items!"[/i:8df5500825] Albert's voice was full of rising excitement. Apparently, this personage had impressed him quite a bit. [i:8df5500825]"His name is Abram Kaniel and here's his ring up."[/i:8df5500825] The affable vendor rattled off the phone number.

Serai spent a few more moments assuring the dealer that they weren't abandoning him entirely, they just wouldn't be needing him as much, and then hung up. She promptly dialed the number that Albert had given her. She tapped her foot impatiently as the phone at the other end rang several times before it was picked up. [i:8df5500825]"Hello, my name is Angelique. I would like to speak to Mr. Abram Kaniel, please."[/i:8df5500825]

[i:d06f9cffb8][b:d06f9cffb8]ALEKZ:[/b:d06f9cffb8][/i:d06f9cffb8]

The telephone didn’t ring. Instead in the briefest of moments, as quickly as it took the electrons to race along concealed pathways, energy to transfer from one point to another and switch form respectively, a message appeared on a screen.

[i:d06f9cffb8]“Unknown caller. Discretion advised.”[/i:d06f9cffb8]

Almost as quickly, though not quick in the sense of motion but reaction, a powerful hand rose, tapping the screen once bringing up a short menu of options. It deftly chose “speaker phone” and then returned to it’s rested position upon it’s owners lap.

Alekz awaited for the obligatorily wary second “hello” before speaking. The screen detailing his own sound wave patterns and those of the speaker’s.

Serai winced slightly at the lack of a response. She waited a millisecond before speaking again. Was that a computer clicking in the background? She listened, inwardly relieved as an answer was offered.

[i:d06f9cffb8]“Who should I be?”[/i:d06f9cffb8] The voice had an immediately sarcastic tone. But here was little or no malice.

Serai was irritated. Twice in so few seconds had she been caught off guard.

[i:d06f9cffb8]“Mr. Kaniel?" Yes, yes of course.”[/i:d06f9cffb8]

[i:d06f9cffb8]“What can I do for you?”[/i:d06f9cffb8] Abram spoke slowly, his Jewish accent giving everything he said a double meaning. A razor edge of wit tempered only slightly with his apparently advanced years.

Serai explained what had led her to call. The old Gentile would interrupt every few sentences, answering her before she could even pose a question.

[i:d06f9cffb8]“Of course I can do that. In fact I may have something that’s just the thing.”[/i:d06f9cffb8]

Serai sighed appreciatively, against better judgement she immediately felt a degree of trust with this man.

[i:d06f9cffb8]“Of course I have to cover overheads. I’m sure you understand? We should meet so you can see what you’re considering to buy. Perhaps on the 11th? Excellent then. I look forward to doing business with you. And meeting you of course.”[/i:d06f9cffb8]

Serai dropped the receiver onto it’s cradle the instant Abram hung up. She seemed pleased. This fellow, Kaniel, sounded promising.

Alekz tapped a finger on the touch-screen. The location of their meeting decided, he immediately began to search for an scrutinise streetmaps of the surrounding area. Calculating approach vectors, possible escape routes. Preparing for all and sundry. His face was a mask of grim determination as he affirmed or denied certain routes, circling the printout of the courtyard Serai had selected with a red pen.

At last something closer to satisfaction he walked to his dressing-room, selecting items of clothing to be worn. Disguises to be tested.

Finally and methodically he locked down the apartment he called the “Eyrie”, retiring to his bedchamber. His pistol sitting loaded and loyal within arms reach like some automated pup.[size=18:d06f9cffb8][/size:d06f9cffb8]

Serai was, indeed, pleased with her efforts, as she put the reciever gently down on to it's cradle. Not only had she made a new possible contact for their collections, but he had some items that might be of interest to her and her mistress. She always did enjoy the sensations of picking up and wielding new weapons. The grip, the heft and the thrill of a sword or bow that seemed custom made for your hands, extensions of arms, eyes and mind. A thrill coursed her body and warmed her, much like the voice of the old man.

She had relaxed into the conversation as soon as she confirmed her guess that the vendor was a Jew. His voice timbre verified it and his insistance on overheads was exactly as she'd expected him to be. The fact that he wanted to [b:952d84710d]see[/b:952d84710d] her also tallied. Most old men liked to look at beautiful women and dream of their younger days. It made them easier to dicker with if she also flirted. Ah, yes! She was looking forward to bargaining with this man!

TWO DAYS HENCE, SOMEWHERE IN LONDON

Serai sauntered towards her goal, alert but relaxed. She'd driven the limo up early to check out the neighborhood of the address she'd noted. She wasn't suspicious of it so much as Cyrilynn's ingrained habits drilled into her assistant. Always know where you are and how it's laid out. Besides, it was a lovely crisp spring day and she wanted to make use of it before the weather decided to take a turn for the worse. Spring rains were always unpredictable.

Leaving the estate's conveyance parked in a security lot, she'd walked the three blocks it took to reach her destination. She'd donned a black body stocking with textured pads for the soles. Ones that gripped most surfaces and gave stable footing. She knew she'd have to strip down enough to allow for free movement when she tested the merchandise but wanted something that would still allow for quiet elegence. Hence a form fitting suit with a high neckline and long sleeves that ended at the wrist.

Over that she'd wound a wrap-around skirt in a brown and black stripped pattern on a cream background. She allowed the upper part of the stocking to act as a clinging sort of turtle neck and had added a few gold chains as understated accessories. Golden hoops in her lobes framed her face and she'd swept her hair up into a prim bun and fastened them with chop-stick like wands. She'd doned calf-high black boots with a bit of a heel. A chocolate shaded shawl, shot through with gold threads, completed her outfit. Style accompanied by a youthful flair.

Her long legs flashed with her buoyant steps and promised much to any discerning male, should they win her favor. But Serai was intent on finding only [b:952d84710d]one[/b:952d84710d] particular male as she neared her objective, therefore, she ignored most whistles as she passed by. Up ahead was the courtyard, shaded from the afternoon sun on one side, lined by elm trees on the other two and open to the street side.

A bag lady dozed in the afternoon sun on a stoop opposite the intended meeting ground as Serai slowed her steps and prepared to cross the street. She glanced down on the thinning, dish-water white hair and noted the fingertipless gloves on the gnarled hands. She rummaged in the overly large handbag, that swung from her shoulder, for the apple she'd brought with her and dropped it gently into the woman's lap, before stepping down from the curb and passing to the other side.

She strolled up and down the street, to keep her muscles limbered up, but the time for her meeting came and went, the sun slowly turning into mid-afternoon. And still Mr. Kaniel didn't show. Thinking that an old man isn't likely to move very quickly, she didn't become worried at first. She kept looking up and down the street, but young mothers pushing strollers and teenagers were out and about for the moment. Sadly, even the bag lady finally gave up and left, disappearing around a corner. Serai was beginning to feel abandoned.

A few more minutes elapsed and she gave up the vigil as, perhaps, a miscommunication. She would return to the Suffolk town of Leiston, to the estate, and see if she could contact Mr. Abram again and find out what had happened. If nothing more came of it, she'd continue her searches elsewhere. As it was, she'd had a nice day away from her duties. She smiled in contentment as she turned back the way she'd come and took a step forward, just as the cell phone in the pocket of her skirt rang. [i:952d84710d]"Hello?[/i:952d84710d] She waited.

[i:50a6259b67][b:50a6259b67]ALEKZ:[/b:50a6259b67][/i:50a6259b67]

The suit had cost him alot. More than simply monetarily, it had cost him time. He had heaved himself along the alleyway, encumbered not only by the weight of the disguise itself, but also by the restrictions its limbs enforced upon him. The heat from the rising, and passing sun was stifling. But he wasn’t concerned. Inside the suit he was protected from Helios’ wrath. Inside the suit he was invisible, because to everyone that might be watching he was a homeless old drunk woman with an unhealthy interest in collecting rubbish in a shopping trolley.

He stumbled as the suit cost him his footing, dropping hard to one knee he drew a few dozen furtive glances from passersby.

Then he sat. The suit’s massive girth and pockmarked, greasy face and hair, looking drained from malnutrition. The eyes filtering and processing the scene for his later study. He pulled his collection closer, the collapsible rifle hidden among the debris.

He watched impassively. Moving irregularly to maintain the illusion of life. Watching the meeting point like some great, fat, rag-wearing gargoyle.

She came into view just before 13:45. A young, very attractive woman passed his position, dropping an apple into his disguised grasp. Alekz hadn’t expected her to be so bold. She stepped briskly, the wrap-around skirt clinging then flaring then clinging again to her sleek frame. The tight bun she wore her hair in combined with the exquisitely understated jewellery she wore gave her a distinctly Eastern appearance. He noted the way she seemed to summon the glances of passing men with each graceful step. He started to record her movements now. Keeping close eye on her as she paced the courtyard.

Just before 14:00. She seemed deflated. She must have checked the time at least four times in the 15 minutes since her arrival. Wondering where he, or rather Kaniel, was. He remained in vigil until 14:07 before he decided to move the plan forward. Shuffling away, tracing his approach exactly he made his way to a waiting van parked in a nearby underground lot.

There he climbed in, quickly disposing of the suit in favour of another, much more civilised look. By 15:00 he checked his visage in a mirror before raising a cell phone to his ear and dialling.

[i:50a6259b67]“Hello?”

“Miss Serai? This is Mr. Kaniel. I want to apologise for having kept you waiting. I was unfortunately delayed. A friend of mine you see, passed away last night. I hope you can forgive me? If you’re still interested I’d like to re-schedule our meeting to say, tonight? At the Augustus? Let’s say 19:30? Good, good. I look forward to it. And Miss Serai?”

“Yes?”

“Thank-you for understanding.”[/i:50a6259b67]

At that he hung up the phone.

Serai was understandably disappointed to have missed Mr. Kaniel but she took it in stride. After all, she was of an age to begin seeing old childhood friends beginning to lose their hold on life. But she'd lost contact with them [b:be252fa94d]years[/b:be252fa94d] ago. Still, the thought brought a momentary flash of something lost. For the moment, she would have to make arrangements to stay later than she would need to. She smiled at the extended reprieve.

Utilizing her cell phone once more, she contacted the estates major domo, [i:be252fa94d]"Jaques, I'm going to be delayed and probably won't be back tonight. I'll stay over if it gets too late, so don't have anyone wait up for me. As to Dorotea, have her report to the nurse's office for a check up, she's over due. If Nancy pronounes her fit, start her on an excerise regimen, please. Follow the usual routine for my absence and I'll pick up any loose ends tomorrow."[/i:be252fa94d] She took a deep breath and finished, [i:be252fa94d]"Ring me on this cell phone if an emergency should occur."[/i:be252fa94d]

Serai glanced down at what she was wearing. Hmmm...it was good for a quick afternoon assignation but she had a feeling that she would need something a bit more fancy for the evening's engagement. If she remembered correctly, she thought she'd passed a small boutique back the way she'd come from. The ghoul began to retrace her steps to where the limo was waiting. If she couldn't find anything suitable at the small shop, she was sure she could get directions to another place close by. Her steps picked up at the idea of shopping and a smile spread across her lips.

SEVERAL HOURS LATER

The limousine pulled up to the Augustus and the temporary driver Serai had hired just for this one event, hopped out and opened the door for her. She extended long silken-hosed legs, in the same golden taupe color as her skin, from the deep interior of the vehicle and allowed the man to hand her out. She wore a slim black dress with a scoop neckline that sported black jet-beaded, net capulets for sleeves. A golden shawl draped her shoulders and barely covered the nearly backless part of her evening wear. Her feet encased in two inches heels with a strap encircling the ankle. A small gold purse was clutched in her hands. Her hair was still in it's bundled coil but this time, the wands were gold plated.

The driver moved the vehicle into the adjacent lot and the door man ushered her through the revolving door. She inclined her head in a small nod of thanks as she enter the luxurious domain. The Augustus itself was a study in class distinction. Quiet and subdued, it gave the visitor the impression of old money and nobility. Serai quite approved as she looked to see where the diningroom was located. Once spotted, she swung through it's portals with assurance and stopped at the head waiter's station. [i:be252fa94d]"I'm expected by a Mr. Kaniel, I believe."[/i:be252fa94d] She stated and at the same time, scanned the room. [i:be252fa94d]"This way madam."[/i:be252fa94d] Replied the maitre d' and lead her to a table in a back corner, placed somewhat in the shadows of the candle-lit dining area, next to a lovely view of the city through large glass windows.

[i:2258705ecb][b:2258705ecb]ALEKZ:[/b:2258705ecb][/i:2258705ecb]

Abram toyed with the fastening around the portfolio that rested on the adjacent seat. He twitched, shifting almost nervously in his seat before finally sipping at the glass of water he’d had brought to him. He’d specified it be chilled to precisely 4°, and as always the waiters at the Augustus hadn’t disappointed.

Suddenly his eyes brightened, his face positively beaming as a vision stepped through the atmospherically lit restaurant.

He suddenly felt under-dressed. HIs simple black suit, tie, and white shirt looking drab as Serai came into view.

The maitre d’ smiled with a pronounced familiarity a his elderly patron.

[i:2258705ecb]“Monsieur Kaniel? Mademoiselle Serai. Please, on behalf of the Augustus. Enjoy your evening.”[/i:2258705ecb]

Quite enough crawling, Kaniel thought. His fingers twitching nervously under the table. He tightened them as he stood, taking Serai’s hands in hers before he bent to kiss them.

[i:2258705ecb]“So glad you could make it. You look exceptional.”[/i:2258705ecb] He smiled with an almost schoolboyish giddiness.

Serai gave him a gracious smile and then, folding her hands together atop the gold handbag she carried, gave him a small geisha-like bow from the waist, back ramrod-straight, eyes demurely lowered. [i:219bbb5b44]"You do me much honor sir. I am delighted to make your acquaintance."[/i:219bbb5b44] And she then raised her calf-soft brown eyes, giving him a pleased blush. Lowering herself skillfully, as the waiter held her chair and then seated her before giving her a menu, she ordered, [i:219bbb5b44]"Just water, please."[/i:219bbb5b44] then turned to her host. [i:219bbb5b44]"Have you eaten, yet?"[/i:219bbb5b44]

[i:219bbb5b44]"Yes, yes!"[/i:219bbb5b44] He waved to her impatiently, [i:219bbb5b44]"I eat several times a day as my appetite isn't what it used to be."[/i:219bbb5b44] He gave her an apologetic quirk of the lips, then turned to the still hovering Geoffrey. [i:219bbb5b44]"I'll take a handful of those afterdinner mints you always serve later, my boy, and a glass of your best white wine."[/i:219bbb5b44] He caught Serai with an indulgent look on her face. [i:219bbb5b44]"My sweet tooth, you know."[/i:219bbb5b44]

They remarked on the weather until their steward returned, rather swifty, with their meager choices. Where upon, Serai ordered a chicken salad with a basil and herb dressing. For several minutes they discoursed on various landmarks in London as well as the health of the economy, the ghoul steering any attempts at business away until she could give him her entire regard. He was tolerant enough to allow her to have her way for the moment, sipping now and again from his goblet.

She was captivated by the cadence and accent of his speech as their conversation progressed and could have spent the entire time listening to him talk but, with a reluctant sigh, she finally acceeded to the purpose of their meeting and brought the discussion around to why they were here as soon as their attendant had cleared the table and served Serai with a glass of Merlot that she had asked for, as an aperitif for the coming discussion.

"Angelique", as she was known to Kaniel, gave a small cough of satisfaction and sagged back a little in contentment, at the company and the equally comfortable talk. However.....[i:219bbb5b44]"I think, Mr. Kaniel, that although I am loathe to do so, it is time to switch to business."[/i:219bbb5b44] She gave a saddened smile. Her rotund companion's face brightened perceptably and his eyes took on a shrewd speculation behind his wire-rimmed glasses as he reached down and picked up a portfolio and pushed it across to her.

The woman drew several photos from the packet and spread them before her. Her expression intent, she sorted the wheat from the chaff and settled on three that caught her attention. One was a ratty, crumbled-appearing nunchaku, the second a finely engraved dagger, but the third one surprised her. It was a simple bronze sword, greened with tarnish and age, the tang missing it's traditional hilt or wrappings.

She turned her sights to the velvety darkness outside, but the weight of her attentions were within her mind. Her gold glazed nails tapped absently on the picture of the antique sword. She turned back to Mr. Abram and made a small moue' of disappointment. [i:219bbb5b44]"Whilst I am eager to inspect these, I assume this is but a small sample?"[/i:219bbb5b44] With a steady, considering gaze, she waited to see what else he would offer.

[i:96d8296096][b:96d8296096]ALEKZ:[/b:96d8296096][/i:96d8296096]

Kaniel smiled warmly. The flush of warmth, however false made his fingers seek out the bridge of his nose. He scratched it playfully, as his ears soaked in Serai’s words.

[i:96d8296096]“Of course! I never like to overindulge potential clients, or should I say friends? Call this a starter. My warehouse, well it's more of a room in my mansion, holds much more. And then of course there are those items awaiting “acquisition”.”[/i:96d8296096]

As he spoke, his eyes shone over the brim of his glass. He sipped slowly, savouring as well as tolerating the taste. His eyes shining like twinned watchtowers in the low light.

Serai's face lit up like a Christmas tree as she heard the news she had hoped for. [i:96d8296096]“Of course, how remiss of me to slight you so!”[/i:96d8296096] Then faded into a pensive expression as she gave thought to her itinerary.

[i:96d8296096]“However, I will have to rearrange my schedule for viewing, if tomorrow is not too soon for us to go over your wares?”[/i:96d8296096] She glanced at him from under long black lashes with a questioning look.

[i:96d8296096]“Tomorrow would be fine. I'm staying at home for a few more days before I go overseas, to Paris actually.”

“Fair enough. This will give me some time to settle affairs at the estate. I would like to inquire as to whether or not you might have any bows or crossbows in your collection? They are a particular favourite of mine, besides being a passion and a hobby.”[/i:96d8296096] Her eyes sparkled just before she lowered them in modesty. [i:96d8296096]“I'm considered a fair bowyer.”

“Bows?”[/i:96d8296096] He spoke with a slightly surprised tone. His brow seemed to darken as he did.

[i:96d8296096]“I must say I prefer swords myself, but I seem to recall I do own a small selection of bows. In fact I just recently acquired a Japanese Longbow a few days ago.”[/i:96d8296096]

Serai's lips parted slightly in a breathless wonderment. [i:96d8296096]“Japanese, you say?”[/i:96d8296096] Realizing her apparent covetousness was not conducive to good bartering, she unhurriedly closed her mouth and sat back as a calculating flash lit the back drop of those brown orbs. She gave him another direct gaze and stated. [i:96d8296096]“I'm unquestionably looking forward to it then.”[/i:96d8296096] She picked up her wine glass and took a large swallow of wine, throat suddenly gone dry with trepidation at her blatant faux pas.

[i:96d8296096]“Yes. It's quite ancient or so I was led to believe. It checks out however. It was used by a Samurai called Hamato Edo. He is said to have died honourably, a Ronin, after avenging his Lord's murder.”[/i:96d8296096] Kaniel / Alekz spoke with a reserved tone, as though reading from some sacrilegious text. However, he sprinkled the story with his own touches of drama.

Avidity flared, yet again, in the young woman's features and just as quickly gave way to a misty visage as she sighed in an abstracted way. [i:96d8296096]“I adore the stories that accompany many of the items my patron and I have collected over the years.”[/i:96d8296096] She looked into her almost empty glass but didn't really see the emptiness of it, only the scene's in her mind's eye.

[i:96d8296096]“The story was quite tragic. But very heroic. Edo was cast out by an enemy warlord who had killed his master. So, determined to recover his lost honour, he posed as a drunk for many months before the time was right. Then he struck, killing they say, a dozen Samurai in single combat, before finally putting his enemy to his death. Thus satisfied, Edo committed Seppu-Ku."[/i:96d8296096] He looked at her as he ended the story, his final words accompanied by a questioning look. [i:96d8296096]"Ritual disembowelment?”[/i:96d8296096]

Cyrilynn's assistant propped her hand on her chin, elbow supported by the table and listened raptly as she sipped again at her now refilled glass. [i:96d8296096]“Yes, I am familiar with Seppu-Ku.”[/i:96d8296096] She absentmindedly answered his question as she awaited the ending.

[i:96d8296096]“And died honouring his true Lord.”[/i:96d8296096]

“Angelique's” eyelashes look suspiciously dewy with unshed tears as she sat up and begin rummaging for a hanky in her handbag. [i:96d8296096]“Such a stirring tale, Mr. Kaniel!”[/i:96d8296096] She withdrew the cloth and her mirrored compact as she touched up her makeup, meanwhile surreptiously dabbing at her eyes. [i:96d8296096]“IF this bow is as authentic as it is claimed to be, I am eager to acquire it, as much as I look forward to trying it out.”[/i:96d8296096] She indulged in another healthy sip of her drink, which helped her to steady herself and then asked briskly, [i:96d8296096]“Is it in usable condition, or has time taken it's toll?”

“The spine of the piece is in exquisite condition.”[/i:96d8296096]

There was a quiet gasp of approbation from his dinner partner.

[i:96d8296096]“The bowstring is in good repair considering it was used by such an illustrious warrior. I even managed to secure a number of the original arrowheads, though sadly the quiver was destroyed by the passing years.”[/i:96d8296096] Kaniel / Alekz looked down at his glass. A sombre expression flooding his features.

Serai hummed her own sorrow, picking up her glass to toy with it, then turning to scan the now crowded dining area.

[i:96d8296096]“But yes, I'm sure you'll enjoy it all the same.”[/i:96d8296096]

Turning back to her host, “Angelique” decided it was time to begin “softening up” her prospective factor in order to get the best out of their negotiations. [i:96d8296096]“I suspect you're likely to be right, my dear sir! I would wish the night over with quickly so that I could see this wonder, were it not for the joy of your company. My patron is sure to be interested in the sword, so......”[/i:96d8296096] She cast him an sincere air but was tumbled speechless at his next words.

Kaniel / Alekz blushed. However insincere the embarrassment was, the effect proved successful. Serai’s eyes seemed to glitter with satisfaction. Her web set with dewy pearls.

[i:96d8296096]“My dear, it is too long since I've heard such a woman as you speak so fondly of me. It does an old man good to hear the words, even if they're just for politeness sake.”[/i:96d8296096] He lowered his voice just as his lips curled into a warm, inviting smile. A faint trace of cheekiness underlying the curve of his weathered mouth.

The Jews words found purchase on a parched ground amongst the seed of Serai's jealousy and applied a balm she wasn't even aware of needing. She reached out and patted the back of his hand in a friendly tap, all pretences and ritual bartering techniques having suddenly flown out the window in a sudden sweep of affection for the old man.

[i:96d8296096]“It's not just politeness, my charming cavalier. You are a balm to my eyes, ears and heart and your stories fascinate me. I am looking forward to your dissertations on the items you have managed to procure. And, I have had a much more pleasant evening with a gentleman like you, than I have had from many of my swains over the last several years.”[/i:96d8296096] The ghoul was shocked to find that she truly meant each word. She drained the last of her beverage and luxuriated in the warm glow it, and her words to Kaniel, spread on it's way to her stomach..

He clasped his calloused hands over her own slender one. [i:96d8296096]“Well you have made my heart sing. Say, shall we escape the formality of the table and retreat to the lounge?”[/i:96d8296096]

He nodded towards an impressively understated “lounge” area. It was overlooked by a vast panoramic window. Drizzle cascading down it, giving the interior an almost submarine feel.

Elated at the thought of the extending their pleasant acquaintanceship, and of exchanging the noisy atmosphere of the dining area for that of the murmur of the dimly lit club, she agreed readily. [i:96d8296096]“I would be honoured to be your escort there, yes. I'm not quite tired enough to call it a day and I'm sure you have many more tales to tell these ears of mine!”[/i:96d8296096] She twinkled at him.

[i:96d8296096]“Very well then. May I?”[/i:96d8296096] He offered his arm. May as well continue the masquerade of gentleman, Alekz thought.

[i:96d8296096]“Certainly.”[/i:96d8296096] She replied as the merchant came to her side and held her chair while she stood, then offered his arm. She wrapped both her arms warmly around it and leaned a bit into him in a comforting pose of amiability.

They walked then to a low-slung table. His eyes beaming as she strode proudly arm in arm with him.

[i:96d8296096]“So? Your patron? What is it that he/she does?”[/i:96d8296096]

Having had that question asked before, it took no great effort for the glib answer to roll off her tongue, which was beginning to feel a bit numb. [i:96d8296096]“Yes, she is a lady of great wealth, very retired. But at one point, she toured the orient and took a liking to all things ancient and historical. Which most of falls upon weapons of the older eras. When her husband died and left her a fortune, she took to acquiring those that she found unusual and distinctive. I think, maybe, that bronze sword will interest her very much.”[/i:96d8296096]

Her voice took on a distracted air as if considering her lady's preferences.

Alekz thought for a moment, before selecting something she might find endearingly eccentric.
[i:96d8296096]“Hubert?”[/i:96d8296096]

Astounded and amused, "Angelique's jaw dropped and she gurgled in glee. [i:96d8296096]“You've, named it!??”

“Sorry, I like to give my collections silly names other than their actual titles. It makes [b:96d8296096]me[/b:96d8296096] laugh at least.”[/i:96d8296096]

Serai couldn't help the further giggles that threatened to escape in to a fully grown laugh so she grabbed up her fresh glass of the newly opened bottle and gave a toast. [i:96d8296096]“To Hubert.”[/i:96d8296096] And took a gulp before looking at Kaniel askance. [i:96d8296096]“I used to do that too, name things.”[/i:96d8296096] Then her face turned lost. [i:96d8296096]“But stopped doing it when matters became practical.”[/i:96d8296096] A melancholy spread over her and she looked on the verge of tears but recovered rapidly with another, smaller sip from the rim of her stemware.

Alekz paid careful attention to her as she described her employer in greater detail. Inside the guise of the old jew, his skin crackled silently as his mind recorded [b:96d8296096]everything[/b:96d8296096].
[i:96d8296096]“A Lady you say? Of Noble birth then?”[/i:96d8296096]

It trickled into Serai's awareness that she was, perhaps, saying too much and she collected her scattering faculties. That this old man had the effect of making her relax far beyond her normal capacities was astounding, yet she couldn't find anything other than what he was. [i:96d8296096]“Yes, she's a lady. I won't mention whom, without her permission, but if our relationship progresses as I expect it will, you will have the honour of meeting her yourself, if you're of a mind. She doesn't leave the estate very often.”[/i:96d8296096] Her tones were very apologetic.

[i:96d8296096]“Then I would have to say, I hope our relationship progresses. She sounds a remarkable woman. And she has exquisite taste to have chosen you as her companion."[/i:96d8296096]

He could actually sense the strength of Serai’s love for her ladyship.

In one suspended moment in time, the ghoul's eyes held in them all the desire and love for her mistress that had been harboured there for nearly a century. She replied in a hushed timbre, [i:96d8296096]“Yes, she is. I owe her everything......all that I am today. She has been good to me.”[/i:96d8296096] She hung her head in abject apology for being such a sham.

He leaned forward, adopting an almost grandfatherly stance.
[i:96d8296096]“My dearest Angelique. Something tells me, your Lady simply polished the gold that was already there.”[/i:96d8296096]

A blush spread from the decolletage of the young woman's dress to the roots of her forehead, unbeknowst her. [i:96d8296096]“That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me in a long time, Abram. OH!”[/i:96d8296096] She covered her lips with those perfectly polished and creamed hands in confused awkwardness. [i:96d8296096]“May I call you Abram? I don't wish to be presumptuous!”[/i:96d8296096]

He returned to the “endearing old eccentric" behaviour that had worked so well previously.

[i:96d8296096]“I'd rather you called me Abram than Sausage.”[/i:96d8296096]

A silvery laugh burst from "Angelique's" throat as the image of a sausage was superimposed on the jovial features of her escort. [i:96d8296096]“Sausage??!!??”[/i:96d8296096] She giggled with carefree abandon in an sudden about-face in her mood. She saluted this second sobriquet with another toast, quickly drained.

[i:96d8296096]“My father used to say that. He was a kook.”[/i:96d8296096]
He chuckled lightly before adding, [i:96d8296096]“A cook. Get it?”[/i:96d8296096]

Still giggling girlishly, Serai gave a groan of her own. [i:96d8296096]“Oh, I see! Well, your father might have had a great sense of humour, but truly, I think Abram is more fitted to your distinguished looks.”

“Only the young see grey as distinguished. To me I'm just an old Gentile.”[/i:96d8296096]

The young woman leaned over and whispered as close to his ear as she could get. [i:96d8296096]“Well, I happen to be quite fond of silver haired gentlemen. They are my particular favourites, you see. Always have been.”[/i:96d8296096]

She settled back in her seat, an assured gleam in her eyes.

He feigned, again, an embarrassed choke. Followed cleverly by a well placed blush of his wrinkled face.
[i:96d8296096]“Ahh yes. Well, quite.”[/i:96d8296096]

She confided in him with a gleam in her eye. Then she leaned back in her chair, almost losing her balance but righting herself just in time.

[i:96d8296096]“You know. You are an uncommonly beautiful young lady. In both what you have to say. How you say IT. And in the way your soul presents itself. This is the most fun I've had, oh in many years.”[/i:96d8296096]

Serai blushed again and stammered, [i:96d8296096]“Well, I have to admit that I owe it all to Cyril.......Oh!”[/i:96d8296096] A hiccup covered the grievous error she'd almost made. She hoped he'd missed it entirely. [i:96d8296096]“Um.....my patron. She had me taught everything a lady of the classes should know.........”[/i:96d8296096]

The name was instantly memorised. He’d search for a match once in his haven.
[i:96d8296096]“Like I said,”[/i:96d8296096] he stopped her in mid sentence, smiling paternally,
[i:96d8296096]“she only polished what was already there. You are a woman of exception."[/i:96d8296096]

A hefty swallow of her wine, again, and she was able to utter a heartfelt [i:96d8296096]“Thank you.”[/i:96d8296096] before she looked demurely down to the table top, to place her glass upon it with infinite care and to hide the flush of pleasure his words had given her. Oh, if only he were a younger man, she could easily have fallen in love with him!!

[i:96d8296096]“No need to be embarrassed, Angelique. May I call you Angel? It seems to suit you.”[/i:96d8296096]

My, she thought, he was assuredly one of the easiest people she'd ever had to deal with and he was such a wonderful gentleman. [i:96d8296096]“Of course, if it pleases you.”[/i:96d8296096] She smiled tenderly at him and then suddenly remembered that she had yet to make another date with him. With a stiff upper lip, that she'd plastered to her face in an effort to be businesslike, she queried, [i:96d8296096]“Now, about tomorrow?”[/i:96d8296096]

He smiled, hiding his true thoughts under a mask of social disappointment. [i:96d8296096]“Yes of course. Well my estate....Are you aware of the Vauntmere Estate?”[/i:96d8296096]

Bits and pieces of data flowed across her countenance as she struggled to flog an alcohol drenched brain to find the answer the to question. [i[i:96d8296096]“Um......that rings a bell with me, but I can't put my finger on why it does.”[/i:96d8296096] As the information continued to elude her, her expression became more and more distressed. [i:96d8296096]“I should know this!”[/i:96d8296096] She hissed in frustration.

[i:96d8296096]“Hey there. No need to fret!”[/i:96d8296096]

Serai gave up with a sigh of defeat.

[i:96d8296096]“I'll have my man, Cromwell, call you in the morning with directions.”[/i:96d8296096]

"Angelique" started to chuckle, [i:96d8296096]“Oh no! Not another named item! You have a butler named Cromwell? Oh, that's just too rich!!”[/i:96d8296096] And she set off again in small peals of joyousness.

[i:96d8296096]"Oh, I have a flair for the dramatic my dear.”[/i:96d8296096] He tapped her arm. [i:96d8296096]“Now, that aside. How does afternoon tea sound? Followed by an extensive tour of my "library"?”[/i:96d8296096]

The young woman sobered a little and intoned, [i:96d8296096]“Tomorrow afternoon will be fine. I will need some time to see to my other affairs but they will be dealt with in short time. And, I look forward to your............ “book“...... collection.”[/i:96d8296096] She tossed him a quirk from her lips.

He smiled victorious. The desire to know her truths proved too great.
[i:96d8296096]“Great! Well if you're to be up and about, it might be wise, if no fun, to retire for the night.”[/i:96d8296096]


Nodding in accordance, if a bit dreamily, she stood up and the sudden raise in elevation made her head spin. She stumbled slightly before Kaniel caught her elbow. That steadied the room and she inclined her head in solemn gratefulness.

[i:96d8296096]“Allow me?”[/i:96d8296096] He awaited her nod to the affirm.
[i:96d8296096]“I'll have a cab collect you. But first. Let's get you to the door.”[/i:96d8296096]

The now thoroughly tipsy girl chuckled at her own private joke as they exited the restaurant. [i:96d8296096]“No need for a cab, dearheart, my limush..um....linosh....um, private car with appropriate driver is waiting for me. We jush need to shummon the him.”[/i:96d8296096] Serai's balance tipped once more and she leaned somewhat harder on her escort.

[i:96d8296096]"His name wouldn't be Sean by any chance?"[/i:96d8296096]

The bubbles of laughter were coming more frequently now and were much harder to suppress, not that the ghoul tried hard. [i:96d8296096]"You know, I don know..... you can ashk him yourself when he comsssh to get me."[/i:96d8296096] That set off a new round of burbles.

[i:96d8296096]“Then let's get you to your carriage m'lady!”[/i:96d8296096]

“Angel” smiled fondly at the old man and gazed at him in a bemused way. [i:96d8296096]“OK”[/i:96d8296096] She assented then leaned over, nearly toppling him, and brushed a generous kiss across his weathered cheek. She really liked this Jewish man. [b:96d8296096]A lot.[/b:96d8296096]

Alekz waited for her car to arrive. Against his better judgement he found this woman enticing. He waved goodbye as she was borne away into the night. The rain trickling down onto his wigged head. He tapped a touch-screen panel on his cell-phone, sending an invisible signal to a car parked out of sight down an alleyway. There was a rumble like distant thunder as the car’s V10 engine growled to life. Rolling forward and tracing the transponder signal in his cell before stopping beside him.

The best part of tea-time ritual is that the English don't hold it at precisely noon. An afternoon tea is generally held somewhere between luncheon and supper and is considered more of a social gathering than that of the American colloquial of a "snack time". Working for Lady Cyrilynn as her personal assistant had taught Serai to catch sleep where and when she could and her body had learned to make the most of what rest she got.

Considering that most of the ghoul's waking hours were in the late evening to the wee hours of the morning, it was a rare occassion that she was up before the bells of the local churches tolled the mid-day hour. This "morning" was an exception to her daily routine as the phone jangled it's way into her consciousness at 10am. She came awake instantly and clearly, answering the wake up summons on the other end of the line. She dropped the receiver into it's cradle, after ordering a light repast, and headed for the shower.

The cascade of steaming water down the length of her body washed away any lingering effects of her dreamless sleep. What was left were bits and pieces of last nights conversation and, she hoped, those were the important parts. Granted she'd been a bit tipsy (alright! she'd been [b:e922fefab5]a lot[/b:e922fefab5] tipsy) but her mind still operated on the automatic track that her mistress had drilled into her.

The things that stuck the most with her, was the picture of that sword (for Cyrilynn), the vague reference to Kaniel's estate (Vant..... no..... Vaunt ....Vauntmere, wasn't it?) and the bow she knew she would be buying (no matter what it's condition!). But overlaying it all was the presence of Abram Kaniel himself. That sweet, wonderful, old Jewish man.

There were rarer sections of her memory that stood out in absolute clarity and this merchant was one of them. Her remembrance of him was a jovial, wrinkled face that smiled in a grandfatherly fashion from behind wire-rimmed glasses that couldn't hide the crows feet or the twinkling of his eyes. Nor could it detract from his sweet benevolent smile. And his gnarled hands had held hers often, with aged privilege.

The young woman gave a regretful sigh at the gulf of time that separated them. Had he been a younger man, it wouldn't have taken much for her to fall in lust with him. She [b:e922fefab5]so[/b:e922fefab5] loved courtly manners. But all Kaniel roused in her now was an overlying urge to protect and cherish this ancient gentleman that could have been, with the right circumstances, her own blood relative. She'd never had the pleasure of a grandfather in her long life.

Serai stepped from the shower and dried herself with the monstrous towel provided, then stepped back into the bedroom of her suite with it wrapped around her. She dressed herself back into the bodystocking with wrap-around skirt that she'd first worn to meet her new factor in, it being the only other outfit she'd come to London with. It still carried the smell of the fresh laundering the hotel had given it at her request.

Her musings were cut short with another insistant jingle from the telephone on the bedside table. Curiosity as to the caller had her picking it up quickly. [i:e922fefab5]"Hello, Angelique speaking."[/i:e922fefab5] The voice from the other end was exactly as she'd expected it to be, ponderous and stately. [i:e922fefab5]"Madam, this is Cromwell, Mr. Kaniel's man of affairs. I was asked to give you his direction and instructions on how to reach the manor. Mr. Abrams hopes that you had a pleasant repose and looks forward to your visit."[/i:e922fefab5].

The young woman barely suppressed a rising giggle at the correctness of it all. [i:e922fefab5]"Oh, I'm quite refreshed, Thank You. Please inform Mr. Kaniel that I am anticipating my meeting with him......"[/i:e922fefab5] She couldn't resist the addition, [i:e922fefab5]"....and that I never have hangovers."[/i:e922fefab5] This time the chuckle escaped but, Cromwell, the epitome of a domestic, never wavered in his speech. [i:e922fefab5]"Very well, Miss Angel. Here is the address and instruction on how to reach Mr. Kaniel's home."[/i:e922fefab5] There was a flurry of information exchanged before she hung up again.

It shocked the ghoul to realize that Abram's mansion was a "neighbor" of Lady Strathsboroughs!! Granted that Leiston was still considered a small burg by modern day standards but, even with the condos and apartments that had sprung up through the area over the years, many of the larger demenses remained. Safe and isolated from the common realm with fences, trained guard dogs and security measures.

All this time and she'd never even known who owned the place, let alone [b:e922fefab5]whom[/b:e922fefab5] owned the place! Knowing now, how close it was, she was pleased to give room to the thought of making some personal time to call on Mr. Abram Kaniel occassionally, after their business was concluded. Just to see how he got on, she promised herself. Her misty-eyed look belied the fact that this man had, for reasons she couldn't even begin to fathom, come to mean a great deal to her.

[i:db0846396f][b:db0846396f]ALEKZ:[/b:db0846396f][/i:db0846396f]

The engine of the Audi continued it’s throaty growl as Alekz drove to the Eyrie. The car sent out an invisible, silent signal to the entrance of the underground parking lot. The reinforced steel shutter rose inaudibly as the aggressively toned car slid forward, Alekz sat transfixed neither with the very act of driving nor the gradually crumbing facade that was Abram Kaniel. He tugged at the peeling layers of latex on his face and returned his attentions to the recording of his dinner with Angelique. His eyes looked tenebrous and almost weary.

The Audi fell silent almost as dramatically as it had bellowed it’s presence in the streets. He stepped out, lifting the portfolio in it’s leather bound case, and a small electronic device before locking the parking lot and it’s wheeled tenant within.

The ride in the elevator was prolonged he felt. His mind continually went over the night’s events. Something troubled him. Something about the way Angelique hastily tried to correct herself when she’d spoke of her patron. He pulled off the suddenly encumbering frame of Kaniel’s clothing and the false paunch, standing half undressed as he powered up the computer in the Eyrie’s front room. Mouthing the name Angelique had started to say...

[i:db0846396f]“Cyril?”[/i:db0846396f] Strange name for a woman perhaps. Maybe she was a he? Alekz frowned before turning to the monitor. The screen icons appeared in gradual formation, before a final icon emerged from the electronic ether to inform him of his online status. He grimly wiped excess latex from his face with a cleansing pad before selecting a search engine. A few key presses later and the computer whirred eagerly, seemingly desperate to please it’s flesh and bone master. Were the computer sentient in some minimal amount, it would resemble a sickeningly loyal puppy.

An hour passed. Slowly.

Alekz was growing every more irritable before his latest search choice came up trumps.

[i:db0846396f]“Cyrilynn.”[/i:db0846396f]

The screen seemed to unravel as his eyes travelled the lines of text. Absorbing. Memorising. And comparing.

[i:db0846396f]...Lady Cryliynn, current owner of Hastings Manor. A recluse from society. Owns and funds several orphanages. Evidently fond of children, known to call them “her children” when approached on the subject. Widow to a diplomat who died overseas, subsequently she returned to run the manor. Known affiliates. Serai Smith. Handmaiden, housekeeper and aide to Lady Cyrilynn. Should contact with her ladyship be required, it is Ms. Smith you should approach....

........third lady to own manor in over 200 years...[/i:db0846396f]

He clicked on a highlighted segment of text, clearly a prompt for a linked image.

The image loaded quickly, drawing a hiss from his lips and a hum from the hard drive. It depicted a series of aged photographs of the previous owners. And a much more recent one of the current owner. There was a substantial but familial similarity between the three women. He scrolled down to find an image of Ms. Smith. The photograph was a tad fuzzy, but upon activating an image enhancement program the features of it’s subject became clear.

She wore her hair on top of her head, granted. But it was no doubt the woman shown was no other than his, or rather Kaniel’s, Angelique.

[i:db0846396f]“Serai.”[/i:db0846396f] His eyes returned to the trio of previous and current owners, something dark passing behind his eyes.

The little yellow sports car Serai had rented slinked its way along the narrow winding roads that wound past Leiston Abbey into the township itself. The sleepy little place had been that way for hundreds of years and showed no sign of ever changing. Which suited both women and was a large reason why Lady Cyrilynn had settled there almost 200 years ago. It still had it's open little markets that had graced the place when Elizabeth the First was queen.

After her phone call from Kaniel's oh-so-proper man of affairs, Cromwell, she had contacted Jaques with her change in plans, destination and a directive to have one of the estate staff collect the the limo from the hotel's garage. She also informed the hotel in the matter as she checked herself out. Stepping into the Rent-A-Car office connected to the hotel's ground floor, she had opted for a vehicle she could put the top down to. The weather had decided to gift her with a gorgeous day!

The hour's drive to the Vauntmere estate had trickled by on fingers of wind in the black and silky strands of her hair. Feeling like a giddy school girl, Serai savored her freedom and the anticipation of a visit with someone she was coming to regard as very important to her. Strangely enough, the speed with which it was happening raised no alarms whatsoever! A flush of warmth brought spots of rosy blush to her cheeks.

Stopping the car before Vauntmere's glass and brass facade, she levered those long tanned legs of hers from the little Citroen and, standing in the shelter of the car's opened door, she leaned back to take in the whole panoply. Lady Cyrilynn's mansion was a study in old world style and elegence. Abram Kaniel's home was an exact opposite. It was a tribute to the architectural genius who'd designed it and the professionals who'd made it a reality. It shone in the noon sun like an ice palace of glittering angles and sheets of frozen water. Serai fell in love with it at once.

Tripping up the gently terraced stairs to the wide double doors at the main entrance, she could barely make out a figure approaching to admit her through the elongated and polarized panels . A stunning smile of sheer joy blossomed across her features when the door opened to reveal the person as none other than Abram himself. She enveolped him in a tender hug and placed a sweet brush of her lips to his forehead then stepped back to see how he was. Kaniel was blushing and she could see that he looked fit and happy to see her.

[i:825624ea06]"Come in, Angel, come in and see my house."[/i:825624ea06] He stammered a bit. [i:825624ea06]"I have given Cromwell the afternoon off so it will be just you and I in this huge mausoleum. We will start with the kitchen where I will ply you with sandwiches until you beg for mercy."[/i:825624ea06] The old Jew chuckled at his own wit and paused to catch his laboring breath before continuing. [i:825624ea06]"After which, I will take you to the "firing range" so that you may try out your new bow."[/i:825624ea06] He paused in thought then gave her a considering look. [i:825624ea06]"If there is time enough I can show you my ensuite dojo and see if the sword would suit your patron's tastes."[/i:825624ea06] He threw her a wry grin, that for a single second made something chill and eerie skitter down her spine, but she passed it off as being ridiculous. An aberration of the angle of daylight.

He caught her hand and placed it on his arm in a courtly manner and patted it in a familial way and escorted her to the kitchen. The room was a modern chef's heaven with it's chrome and steel pots, pans and cooking utensils hung from revolving racks. A large, well polished butcher's block dominated the center of it all while the walls housed a large chilling box, an equally large freezer and a preparation counter.

Kaniel disappeared, through a door that gave a glimpse to a well stocked pantry, before emerging with loaves of mini hoagie rolls, butter, a round of cheese, and a special herb spread. From the ice box, he pulled out a succulent ham and a head of fresh lettuce. Then he headed for a vintners rack on the opposite side of the room and brought back a bottle of wine so red as to be nearly black. He popped the cork, while she pulled a high backed stool up to the sturdy cutting table, and then decanted it into two glasses, handing her one of them.

They talked about the weather and how April had slid into a very balmy May and hoped it would remain that way. They commented about the loss of some of the estates to apartment complexes and how lucky they were to have the ones they did. He made her a sandwich worthy of a gourmand and she devoured every bite of it. He tried to press a second one on her but she patted her flat stomach and declined. She also didn't want to be too loggy from digesting her treat when it was time for fire the bow.

Like swimmers who laze in the sun after a meal, and before taking up swimming again, they wandered his "castle". He showed her a room, with it's collection of tribal souvenirs and a long wing with many guest rooms, all aired and awaiting their occupants. He escorted her into a mini theater that also housed one of the largest TV screens she'd ever seen. At one point she'd needed the ladies room and had been led to a chamber that defied the common with a sunken tub and a small, jungled waterfall that fed into it when activated. Serai couldn't have been more delighted with all she saw.

She also made note of the security cameras and alarms as well as the intercoms in every room. Kaniel pointed out that he liked piped music to follow him around when he wandered the house. He planted himself in the middle of one room and lifted his chin to the ceiling, part way. [i:825624ea06]"House, Enya, Shepard's Moon, play continuously. Temperature of the majority of the house to be 37 degrees fehrenheit. Water the greenhouse at 5:30am, 11:30am and 5:30pm daily. Leave a note on Cromwell's message center to have my bags packed for my trip to Paris and to notify me when this is accomplished. Thank You."[/i:825624ea06] The "house" chimed a pleasant note and replied, [b:825624ea06]"Your Welcome"[/b:825624ea06] in Serai's tones. The old man blushed again.

[i:825624ea06]"I like hearing your voice."[/i:825624ea06] He gave her a sheepish look. [i:825624ea06]"I hope you don't mind"[/i:825624ea06] The shock of surprise on "Angel's" face turned to one of soft sentimentality and she lightly leaned her head onto Abrahm's shoulder and whispered, with the bite of tears in her voice, [i:825624ea06]"That's the loveliest thing that ever happened to me. You've immortalized me in a way no one else could have. I'm honored, little grandfather."[/i:825624ea06] She accorded him another brush of her lips, to the cheek this time. He coughed in confusion and led her forward to the next phase of their afternoon journey.

His "weapons room" was a marvel of the standard and the unusual. An overly large room, it housed many antique and modern day armaments displayed for any and all buyers to see on the walls, in racks and in velvet lined drawers. Kaniel plucked two bows from the wall, one a composite bow and the other an unstrung Japanese bow. "Angel" could feel herself mentally drooling already.

He stopped long enough to grab a quiver from a special rack before beckoning to her to proceed him through the door he waited patiently in front of. [i:1342efc2e4]"Beyond this door is the firing range for my customers. It carries all the latest in electronic targets for all types of testing. I think you will find it adequate."[/i:1342efc2e4] His eyes twinkled merrily and Serai answered with a grin, knowing it'd be a cold day in hell before he'd disappoint her. She opened the portal and stepped through.

The ghoul nodded her appreciation of what lay before her. [i:1342efc2e4]"Very similar to the one my employer has. Ours is underground, of course, my lady doesn't like to encroach upon the lawns and flower beds by extending the building's environs."[/i:1342efc2e4] She took the composite bow Kaniel handed her and tested it's strength while he watched. Then she turned to the range, scoping out the targets. [i:1342efc2e4]"Simply tell the Range what type of target, how many, the speed and the distance and it will set it all up for you. You can change all or part of it at any time by speaking it aloud."[/i:1342efc2e4] She beamed at thim and had the targets set up by distance.

Taking a rock solid stance, she planted an arrow dead center of each one. The perfection of the score was immediately displayed on a LCD board to her right. Kaniel opened an ammunitions cabinet behind him and selected more arrows. Serai set up moving targets and took her stance again, then began raining her flighted darts at each mark. Again, no misses. Standing to her right and behind the young woman, the old man's eyes narrowed. Quietly, he stepped up to her and tapped her mid arm, she turned to him with a puzzled look of inquiry.

Silently he handed her the Japanese bow and a brand new string. With joy suffusing her countenance, she took both from him and strung it quickly and efficiently while barking a set of orders at the Range. Then, slinging a quiver over her head, she widened the distance, sped up her fake prey and kicked off her shoes. In a spectacular display of speed and acrobatics, she ran from one side of the room to the other, sometimes forward, sometimes back, always moving. She was a barrage in motion.

On the last arrow, she stopped dead center of where she had started and pulled the bow's string as far as she could, aiming at the blur that was the last object. Suddenly, to her right, the Jewish man lapsed into a proxysm of coughing that shook his slight frame and he doubled over. The young woman glanced fearfully at him from over her extended arm. [i:1342efc2e4]"[b:1342efc2e4]Serai[/b:1342efc2e4], quick..."[/i:1342efc2e4] he panted between the racking bouts, [i:1342efc2e4]"......a glass...of water from....over there."[/i:1342efc2e4] He pointed to a fountain with a dispenser of paper glasses.

Worry flooding her system, she glanced back at her target, released the arrow, then placed the weapon carefully on the floor and sped to the indicated spot. Filling the container she returned to the merchant's side and helped him to sit on the floor and sip the liquid until his breathing had slowed and returned to normal. [i:1342efc2e4]"Thank you, my dear, you've helped me more than you know."[/i:1342efc2e4]

He patted the hand that rested on his knee with appreciation but another tendril of icy dread snaked its way down her back. She just couldn't put her finger on it's cause. While she gently helped him to stand again, Kaniel peeked at the last target. The final arrow had not only hit bull's eye but was embedded, Robin Hood style, into the one that had proceeded it.

"Angel" tried to take her leave of him, fearing that he'd pushed himself too hard for her benefit by this visit. Abram argued that he was just fine, and, if it pleased her, he would simply sit and watch her wield the sword in the dojo. [i:1342efc2e4]"I would hate to be denied your further company, dear girl, for I would be lonely until Cromwell returns."[/i:1342efc2e4] She couldn't deny him the small pleasure.

Again, Serai was amazed at the similarity between Kaniel's dojo and Cyrilynn's and she remarked that they both must have great interest in the Orient. He graced her with an enigmatic smile and handed her the bronzed, tarnished sword, then gestured her toward a screen at the opposite end of the room, tucked into a corner with no windows to expose herself to. No other door except the one they'd entered. [i:1342efc2e4]"Use that to change into a more appropriate outfit, skirts tend to impede swings. There are many outfits there to use, one should fit you."[/i:1342efc2e4] His generosity had her withholding the fact that she already was wearing a bodystocking as part of her ensemble.

She laid the shoes, she'd discarded and then retrieved in the range hall, under the bench provided there and proceeded to remove everything down to the skin, to replace it with only the full-length black leotard she'd had on. She wanted nothing to get in the way of movement when she tested the weapon. She noticed, when she sat and studied it a bit, that the blade had remained just as tarnshed as it was in the picture. Also that Kaniel had fitted the tang with a well-crafted, but plain, hilt to fit the hand.

She'd chatted away to him and had listened to the pleasant cadence of his voice. It never ceased to bring a sense of warmth to her and to soothe. She was in the process of adjusting the calf part of the leggings to eliminate any sag potential when she heard the soft *thud*. Her head jerked up and she nearly dashed around the barrier but realized that she was still naked from the waist up. She'd yet to get her arms in their sleeves. Placing her hand atop the framework, she called out in alarm. [i:1342efc2e4]"Little Grandfather, are you all right? What's happened? Are you hurt?"[/i:1342efc2e4]

There was a brief hesitation and then he spoke, causing Serai to release a pent up breath and to still her frightened heart. That coughing fit he'd had had bothered her more than she was willing to admit to. She couldn't lose this man whom she'd come to love in so short a time. It would rip her soul in half!! [i:1342efc2e4]"I'm all right, dear girl, don't come out from behind there until you are "decent". You just might push me into an early heart attack."[/i:1342efc2e4] He gave a weak chuckle and the young woman hurried the rest of her preparations.

She found Kaniel, when she emerged, sprawled on the floor to the left of the entryway. There was no movement from her "little grandfather". Instead, standing over the body, was a young and classically handsome man with strong angular features. The light brown hair was a bit tousled, like he'd just pulled his shirt over his lean and muscular frame. Pricklings of danger made her unconsciously balance on the balls of her feet.

There were three things she assessed from him. First he was dressed in string-tied leggings and a loose tunic on the upper torso, no shoes. Second, the sword he held in his hand glinted back at her despite the soft lighting. And, third, his grey-green eyes were embedded in a stone face. Serai brought her sword up at the ready without fore hought, an instinctive reaction to the predator across the room from her. Her own gaze flattened out and went dead, her body tightened in reponse to the implied threat and her heart shriveled and died leaving a black void in the region of her soul that Abram Kaniel had recently occupied. Inside, Serai began to mourn at her loss.

Her voice going low, with a snarl, she demanded an answer of this stranger who had brough devastation to the brief companionship between herself and the vendor. [i:1342efc2e4]"What's happened? What's wrong with Abraml!? [b:1342efc2e4]What have you done to him!!?[/b:1342efc2e4]"[/i:1342efc2e4] Her voice rose with each question and ended on a throbbing sob. Then, with tears suddenly trickling down her cheeks, she asked, in a broken whisper, [i:1342efc2e4]"What have you done to that gentle old man? I swear I'll chop you into little pieces if you've harmed one hair on his head."[/i:1342efc2e4]

[i:40917037db][b:40917037db]ALEKZ:[/b:40917037db][/i:40917037db]

Durandal seemed to rise as if reacting to Serai’s threats upon it’s user. Alekz stood, blade-point warding off his duplicitous guests advances.

[i:40917037db]“Considering you are in [b:40917037db]my[/b:40917037db] domain. And are so under false pretences, I would strongly suggest you lower your voice and start explaining yourself before I run you through.”[/i:40917037db]

Serai’s eyes widened. What madness was this? This was, if anyone’s, Kaniel’s domain.

[i:40917037db]“I asked you a question! What have you done to my friend? Where is he?”[/i:40917037db]

Aleks was in no mood for questions, instead he reacted to her impolite interrogation with a warning swipe. The sudden, efficient gesture of his sword sent a sharp jolt along her forearm as his sword struck the one she held.

[i:40917037db]“Like I said, [b:40917037db]you[/b:40917037db] are the one endangered here. You have lied about your identity and that of your Mistress. Tell me. What other lies will we uncover today?”[/i:40917037db]

He stepped forward, the tip of Durandal resting painfully on Serai’s chest.

Her reactions were exemplary. She stepped back, pirouetting away before replying to his sword’s threats with a few of her own.

The sword, though relatively clumsy and short compared to the curious bastard sword Alekz wielded, was still formidable. The air around it’s edge seemed to warp and recoil from the bronze weapon. Alekz recoiled just as instinctively. The swords finally clashed edge upon edge sending sparks into the air.

[i:40917037db]“Impressive. Most impressive. What other tricks do you know?”[/i:40917037db]

He was taunting her. But she was better trained than he’d surmised. She merely smirked in response. Her confidence was a touch overt.

So he found another way to provoke her anger.

The upward slash left a red, ragged but narrow line across her shoulder. The flare of pain instantly converted to pleasure. Her breathing quickened as they clashed again. One empassioned. The other impassive.

The stranger's taunts [b:1be32f5b60]were[/b:1be32f5b60] affecting her but not quite in the way he intended. If anything, they firmed what resolve she had to rid her, and her "grandfather", of his presence so that she could tend to Kaniel. In whatever form that should take. She certainly hoped it would not be that of a eulogy. Serai merely ignored the intruders threats, letting the seeds of his gibes fall on the dead soil of her heart.

The woman circled the interloper like a great black cat, the lines of a panther evident in her fluid moves, seeking passage toward Kaniel's crumpled form. She desperately wanted to assess his state of health. The body was so still and all she could see of his face was a small, paper thin patch of his weathered cheek; only one of his eyes could be glimpsed, closed in oblivion, the thinned lashes laid gently on that rounded slope . She couldn't make out any rise and fall of his chest, to know if he still breathed. She brought her full attention back to their trespasser.

She stepped in with a few feints and parries, most of which garnered her more pinks and pricks then she bargained for, but he didn't land any solid blows beyond the beginning jar to her arm. She wondered if he might be playing a game of cat and mouse. The shallow cut on her shoulder stung with each move but it only served as a spur to the euphoria such "love bites" imparted to her. Such things heightened her senses and brought everything into a much sharper focus.

[i:1be32f5b60]"This is the home of my friend and host, Mr. Abram Kaniel. I was invited but [b:1be32f5b60]YOU[/b:1be32f5b60] weren't! Let me past to make sure he's alright and I just might let you escape from here unscathed."[/i:1be32f5b60] Her voice stayed low and flat, the threat carrying a wealth of determination with it. Her opponent never smiled or answered her, he simply blocked any of her attempts to approach the old man.

That alone was enough to start fanning the embers of her smoldering temper, that he refused her the right to aid her friend. It could only mean that there was a good possibility that Abram lived and that her enemy was denying her access to him. Desperate to reach him she tried to rouse him with voice alone. [i:1be32f5b60]"Abram! Abram Kaniel!! If you can hear me, call out or move. Let me know you're alright!! Please, Abram!"[/i:1be32f5b60] She disengaged and moved back a few steps but kept a wary eye on her adversary, hoping he would have the decency to allow her this much.

[i:38f4f1eedf][b:38f4f1eedf]ALEKZ:[/b:38f4f1eedf][/i:38f4f1eedf]

His words, it seemed, had fallen on deaf ears. The reality just wouldn’t reach her. Well perhaps it would if struck into her with a hammer.

He stepped aside, never dropping his guard, allowing her to see the truth in all it’s terrible glory.

Serai raced to Kaniel’s crumpled side. She held back frightened tears as she moved the folds of ruffled fabric that covered the strangely reduced frame of her beloved. Her fingers tentatively peeling back the layers until the truth left her fighting for breath.

Kaniel’s face lay partially folded. Her throat rippled, restraining bile from escaping. Her fingers told her the facts, though even so her mind didn’t or couldn’t accept it.

The face wasn’t flesh. It was some advanced form of latex mask. The clothes were empty save for an elaborate body brace sewn on the inside. She pulled back in shock, before an incandescent rage flooded through her.

[i:38f4f1eedf]“Where is he!? I’ve had enough of this! Show me where he is or by god.....!”[/i:38f4f1eedf]

Alekz pointed Durandal’s tip towards the clothes and mask, then gestured towards himself. Nodding.

[i:38f4f1eedf]“Are you blind as well as foolish? I’m Kaniel. Or rather, I am sometimes.”[/i:38f4f1eedf]

He pointed the sword at her again. His face looking determined.

[i:38f4f1eedf]“Now that you know who I am. Would you be so kind as to say who you [b:38f4f1eedf]really[/b:38f4f1eedf] are?”[/i:38f4f1eedf]

His answer was a slash to his cheek, an inch below his eye. He stepped away his right hand reaching to the cut as he healed it.

[i:38f4f1eedf]“Ow. That was unexpected. Very well. If you won’t play nice...”[/i:38f4f1eedf]

His hands joined each other on the handle of his sword. He rose the weapon sharply, showering the wooden floor with fresh sparks as the edge scraped hers. They entered into a complex weaving of steel upon steel. The artificial light glittered along the blades as they spun, parried and feigned. Pushing each other back. Gaining and giving ground in a fantastic deadly dance. Alekz was impressed, an all too rare occurrence, as she matched his motions perfectly. He decided to up the ante, stepping into an elaborate sequence of lunges, parries, dropping to his knees, rolling, spinning. He moved like some vicious balletic dancer. The sword, his silent, partner in a dance of steel.

Serai was beginning to struggle. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she tried to maintain her assault. But he was everywhere. It seemed he second guessed every lunge, every riposte she had to offer. And he paid in kind drawing dozens of miniature gashes on her upper arms, thighs and a few in her side. Her breathing was becoming frenzied. Her mind aflame with the passions his inflicted pain inspired. She could feel it building. Somewhere in her stomach. A warmth. A longing. A creeping lust that had to be released. A fire of passion pooled in her belly. And still he pressed on. Insistent. Unstopping.

He wasn’t breaking a sweat. That she had noticed. He wasn’t panting. Which he would be were he mortal. But his face was beginning to show fatigue in it’s own way. She had to stop him. The longing the wounds were opening in her had to find release.

He made a sound that resembled a growl before stepping forward, his sword snaking it's way around hers. Twisting, his hand sent her weapon tumbling. He held her, Durandal between them like a razored wall...