Agnes Smith
WHEN IN ROME, pt. II

848 A.D.

Rome

.........

Techo promises to deliver the letter and the sword safely.

"Don't lose your head," he says in parting.



Without Techo in Rome, you feel largely alone as an immortal. You're 
not the senior immortal present, but Lucius stays in his own quarter and 
has made it clear he's not one for socializing with other immortals. At the 
moment, there seem to be no others in the city.

You throw yourself into your work, straightening the books, learning the 
business, and becoming indispensible. Actually, you probably aren't 
indispensible yet....but as soon as the elder Savorino dies, you will be. 
He's making what provisions he can for his brother and nephew (both of 
whom are involved in their own business) to take over the trade on 
behalf of his irresponsible son Dino, but since you'll be the only one with 
a working knowledge of the business and the ability to keep it running 
day-to-day, you can probably acquire a lot of leverage even without any 
of the underhanded schemes Techo implied.

Marrying Dino wouldn't be an option anyway; he's not after marriage, at 
least not from you. But he certainly wouldn't mind having you as a 
mistress. The sword incident put him off a little, but you know it's going 
to be just a matter of time before you'll have to really lay him out.


The Aghlabids and other Muslim corsairs from Sicily are still actively 
raiding Italy. They haven't assaulted Rome itself since the raid two years 
ago, but they come close enough to cause interruptions in trade, and for 
the citizens to remain concerned. Pope Leo IV is having a wall built 
around the Vatican, to prevent damage like what was inflicted during the 
last raid.


A month goes by. You attend Mass each Sunday at the St. Clemens 
Cathedral, and Antonella arranges to have you snuck into the Gallini 
estate afterwards. She tells you everything is going well enough, though 
she doesn't like any of the suitors her father has presented her with.

"Some Tuscan vintner actually told me I looked like a healthy child-
bearer, like that was supposed to be a compliment, and I don't think he 
looked me in the eye once!" Antonella complains, reclining on her 
couch.

"I told him I'd rather bear rabbits than carry *his* children." She giggles. 
"Papa was very angry at me."

Her fingertips run over her belly, as she contemplates the prospect of 
child-bearing. She's gained some weight since returning to Rome, eating 
more fattening Italian food, and not walking, riding, and training with you 
as she used to. She's not yet fat, but her already voluptuous figure is 
filling out even more, and a combination of lack of exercise and a desire 
to put off suitors could easily lead her in that direction.

She pours herself another glass of wine. Another indulgence denied to 
her in Ifriquiya which she seems to be partaking of liberally now. "It's so 
tedious and boring, Agnes," she complains with a sigh, akin to a whine. 
Her face becomes more solemn. "But you should have seen some of the 
drooling fiends that are after Lavinia."

A knock comes at her door. Antonella straightens up, self-consciously, 
and brushes her hair back. "Who is it?" she demands irritably.

"Just me," Lavinia's voice comes through the door.

Antonella sighs, and looks at you. "Lavinia is worried lately that I'll stifle 
our marriage prospects entirely. The silly girl was relieved when I 
forestalled her own imminent wedding to some dirty old man or another, 
but now she thinks if I keep refusing suitors, I'll give us both a reputation 
for being shrews, and Papa might just marry her off to the first man who 
comes along."

"Anyway, we had a fight last night. She probably wants to make up. Do 
you mind if she comes in? She'll probably ask you lots of stupid 
questions. She thinks you're very interesting, and she asks the most 
outrageous things!" Antonella's sister obviously admires and emulates 
her older sister more than Antonella realizes.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She bites her tongue. 
She will not interfere in Antonella's life until her first death. 
**Her fat will come off soon enough once I'm training her.** she tells 
herself.

"Of course, Antonella. Let her in."

<><><><><>

[GM]

"Come in, Vinny!" Antonella calls out.

The younger Gallini daughter enters, looking hesitant, but brightens 
when she sees you.

"Signora Agnes!" she says. She bustles in and sets down next to 
Antonella. She's wearing a looser, simpler garment than Antonella's 
robes, and has let her hair hang loose around her shoulders, whereas 
Antonella, perhaps with nothing better to do, has spent time putting her 
hair up in an elegant braided coiffe.

"I didn't know you'd come to visit!" Lavinia says delightedly. "Oh, please 
tell me about your adventures in Ifriquiya!"

"We didn't have any 'adventures', Vinny!" Antonella says irritably, 
sipping more wine. "I keep telling you that. It was hot and sandy and 
boring."

"And *I* know you're lying!" Lavinia says haughtily, holding her head up 
and tossing her hair in a very Antonella-like manner.

"Here I thought maybe you came in to apologize for calling me a loud-
mouthed harpy!" Antonella mutters. Lavinia looks hurt, and Antonella 
presses her advantage. "Instead you come in and call me a liar right off, 
in front of my friend!"

Lavinia's lip quivers. "But you *haven't* told me anything about Ifriquiya!" 
she says stubbornly. "And besides-" she bites her lip.

"Some wine, Agnes?" Antonella says, offering you the flask. This 
bickering seems to be quite routine for them.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]


Antonella's question completely throws her.
**Do I want wine? I haven't drunk any alcohol since going to Africa - 
apart from the sacrament...**

"A little please Antonella."

**I will really stand out if I drink _no_ wine in Italy.**

"You sister is right," she says to Lavinia with a smile. "There really is 
nothing in Africa worth talking about."

<><><><><>

[GM]

"You weren't kept in a harem?" Lavinia sounds almost disappointed.

"How do the Saracens treat Christian women?"
"Did they make you convert to their pagan beliefs?"
"Is it true they cut people up into little pieces in the public squares?"

"Lavinia!" Antonella groans.

The wine is quite good. Lavinia has some also, but you notice she drinks 
more sparingly than her sister.


Eventually, Antonella asks you "So, do you have the time to visit the 
baths yet?"

"Will they let her in?" Lavinia asks Antonella in a too-loud whisper. 
Antonella rolls her eyes. "Of course they'll let her in if she has money!" 
she snaps at Lavinia. "Besides, she'll be our guest." She smiles at you.

"Lavinia thinks Britain is some dark, barbaric place full of pagans and 
painted savages and Vikings," Antonella says. Lavinia blushes. Of 
course Antonella believed pretty much the same thing, until she got to 
know you, and you told her a much more down-to-earth version of life in 
Northumbria.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

In thinking how to reply to Lavinia's questions, she thinks how the 
saracen's did treat her: as they left Africa, as Kemal's wife, as Kemal's 
slave, as a prisoner ... and she remembers. Her eyes glaze and she 
relives the awfulness of capture, saying nothing, allowing no emotion to 
show. 

She doesn't answer that question

"No they didn't try to convert us to Islam."


"I suppose I can arrange to spend some time at the baths - if we arrange 
a day and a time, I will try to be there."

She looks at Lavinia,

"Of course, I'm a savage Lavinia, that's why I can read and write, speak 
latin and count. If everyone in Rome would only paint themselves in 
wode every day from birth until they came of age, they too could do 
those things. 

We tried to get the Roman Empire to adopt these practices when we 
were in the empire, but obviously it didn't catch on."

Agnes surprises herself at how much history she has picked up. Now, 
she realises that the Northumbrians weren't even in Britain when the 
Romans were there.

"And of course, being a real barbarian, I have to carry this ..." She pulls 
the handle of her sword a few inches clear from where it was hidden by 
her bodice.

[OOC I see her having a slit in the top of her skirt so that the scabbard is 
inside the skirt, but the handle outside is hidden by her jacket. It makes it 
much less obvious that she is wearing a sword when walking or 
standing.]

<><><><><>

[GM]

Lavinia turns redder and redder at your scathing irony. Antonella looks 
amused. The girl's hands twist in her lap, as she considers whether to 
be offended, or apologize.

But her eyes go wide when you show her your sword.

"Is that a *real* sword?" she asks. "You carry a sword!?"

"Can I see it, please?"

"Do you know how to use it?"
"Have you ever killed anyone?"

"Lavinia!" Antonella says, even more sharply, and grabs her sister by 
the shoulder. "That's enough!"

"Your questions are very rude, and have you considered that you might 
be asking about things which are hurtful to remember?"

Lavinia gapes at Antonella. Obviously that had never occurred to her. It 
would never have occurred to Antonella, two years ago, either.

"You should talk!" is all she can retort. But then she lowers her eyes and 
turns back to you.

"I'm sorry, Signora Agnes, I meant no offense." She sniffs, and looks like 
she might actually be on the verge of tears.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She allows herself to smile at the end of sending up Lavinia, banishing 
the memories she hadn't wanted to remember.

"Yes, it is a real sword.

Yes I can use it."

Memories of a bloody meadow in Aquitaine and a desert in Afrique swirl 
back into her mind, memories of the two men and the memories of the 
men in their memories lurk at the edge of her mind.

"I have killed several men, and maimed a few too.
I was not taken from Rome easily, last time the saracens came, and I 
shall be just as difficult if they come again."

She looks sympathetically at the girl,. "It's alright Lavinia, I am not 
offended. Your sister was as bad when we first met."

With a broad smile she adds, "I survived her for two years."
 
"Remember, I'm the one who slaps priests."

<><><><><>

[GM]

Antonella's bright blue eyes were fixed on you as Lavinia's questions 
dredged up unpleasant memories. Perhaps recalling how her own 
insensitive questions brought back those memories last time.

It's her turn to blush when you bring up her own past indiscretions.

"I was not!" she protests.

"I'll trow you were!" Lavinia retorts. "Papa's always said *you* have the 
sharpest tongue of any woman he's ever known. He said that when you 
were but twelve!" She turns and smiles at you triumphantly, accepting 
her forgiveness easily and pressing her advantage. "*I've* had to live 
with her for the last fourteen years!" she points out. Then frowns. "Well, 
not counting the last two...."

"That means *twelve* years, Ninny!" Antonella says irritably, and raises 
her leg to push her sister off the couch with a sudden shove of her foot. 
Lavinia squawks as she lands on the floor in an undignified fashion, and 
glares up at her sister.

"If you just came in here to embarrass me in front of my friend, why don't 
you go bother someone else?" Antonella says.

"She hasn't said yet whether she'll show me her sword!" Lavinia 
protests, looking up at you pleadingly.

"That's enough!" Antonella exclaims, and actually sits up and grabs her 
sister, half-lifting her from the ground. "Don't you understand yet, this is 
not light conversation! And a sword is not a pretty toy for you to play 
with! Off with you! Begone from my chambers, you obnoxious little brat!"

Lavinia sputters, then rises to her feet and backs away from her 
suddenly outraged sister, staring at her in surprise, and sniffling again. 
Lavinia's feelings are definitely bruised more easily than Antonella's.

"I'm *not* a brat!" she whines. Antonella snorts in disgust, and pours 
more wine.

"Why did you slap a priest?" Lavinia asks suddenly, trying to change the 
subject (and forestall her banishment.)

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

"I'll tell you about the priest some other time, Lavinia. And maybe show 
you the sword. Antonella looks like she wants you to go now."

When her sister goes, she looks at Antonella.
"I think the two of you bring out the worst in each of you. It was rather 
undignified throwing each other off the furniture. I trust you do that when 
your suitors call."

"Well, I have chores to do. I'll try and get to the baths on Wednesday if 
you like."

 With that Agnes says her goodbyes and makes her way out and back to 
her rooms.

<><><><><>

[GM]

Antonella rises to walk you out. She does look genuinely embarrassed 
now. "We're not usually that bad," she mutters. "We just had a fight last 
night....and we've both been....anxious, about all these suitors." She 
sighs.

"I almost wish we could run away and take Lavinia with us," she says, 
looking at you as if hoping you might actually agree to this- "but I don't 
think Lavinia would do well 'roughing it'. She's much too spoiled, and 
used to living in luxury."

She looks down at the floor. "I only came back, and chose to stay, 
because I wanted to protect Vinny," she mumbles, barely audibly. "I 
already know I don't *want* to marry any of these men."


She brightens a little. "Oh yes, you must come to the baths!" She smiles 
and reaches out to flick a lock of your hair teasingly. "A proper bath and 
something done with this plain, mousey hair of yours and you might be 
accepted as an almost civilized Roman woman!"

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

As they walk out she looks at Antonella. 
"Antonella, if you really don't want to marry any of them and you want to 
look after Vinny, why have you insisted that you are married before her. 
Wouldn't you do better telling your father that Vinny can be married first, 
and concentrating your efforts on making sure that the man is suitable in 
your eyes. 
And of course, you will have an excuse to delay things for yourself, as 
you can claim to be too involved in looking after your sister.

It's just a thought,"  she smiles.
"And I don't think Lavinia would cope roughing it - I would have a difficult 
enough time looking after you - never mind two of you."

"Lavinia's too spoiled," she says quietly but so Antonella can hear, "Talk 
about the pot calling the kettle black."

 "Thank you, Antonella, I know a bath is what I am in need of. I shall see 
you on Wednesday then."

<><><><><>

[GM]

Antonella flushes again when you call her spoiled, but doesn't seem to 
feel she has a strong enough case to argue the point.

"I...well, I thought by insisting I be married first, I'd give Lavinia more 
time."

"I know girls younger than her get married all the time, but really, it's not 
fair! She's just too young! She's still just a child!"

"I was two years older than her when I married Kemal, and that was still 
younger than I expected I'd be married....and as you keep pointing out, I 
was lucky, with Kemal," she sighs.

"Anyway, it's too late now. I held my father to his vow, I can hardly 
change my mind now. All I can do is stall as long as possible."

"I'll see you Wednesday, then," she says wistfully.

..........


Between Sunday and Wednesday, nothing remarkable happens. Dino 
keeps pestering you, and tries a new approach....he brings you a small 
gift. A silver bracelet. It's pretty, and a less affluent and more naive 
young woman might be quite taken by it. Of course you know that Dino 
is wealthy enough to buy trifles like this with pocket cash.


Wednesday, you set off for the thermae. The women's spa that 
Antonella told you about is located in one of the older sections of the 
city, and requires you to walk through a rather rundown neighborhood. 
Antonella and Lavinia, of course, will travel through their own 
neighborhood, and with escorts.

You pass through without event, and find the two sisters waiting for you 
at the marble courtyard leading into the large communal bath. Antonella 
beams when you arrive, and Lavinia also looks very pleased.

"Hello Agnes!" Antonella chirps brightly, giving you a light embrace. "I'm 
so glad you could pull yourself away from all that vulgar work to relax 
and take care of yourself." She toussles your hair. "We simply *must* do 
something with this! Maybe we'll even go shopping, if I can talk the 
servants into taking us." Despite her cheeriness, you can see how glad 
Antonella really is for this outing....this is probably the only real 
socializing, and the only thing approaching freedom, she has.

Lavinia is more genuinely enthusiastic, since she's had no other life to 
compare this with.

"Did you bring your sword?" she asks in a breathless whisper, prompting 
Antonella to roll her eyes and swat her sister.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

The bracelet she accepts, but she puts it on her desk, rather than wear 
it. "No point in giving Dino ideas,"she muses.

At the baths she greets the other two warmly.

She smiles at Lavinia's question and pulls back her bodice enough to 
show the handle of a sword protruding through the  top of her skirt.
"What did you expect? I'm a barbarian."

<><><><><>

[GM]

Lavinia giggles, and looks embarrassed.

"I *don't* really think you're a barbarian," she pouts. She glares at 
Antonella, daring her to contradict her.

"Please don't ask her to show it to you here," Antonella smirks. "Drawing 
a sword in a thermae just isn't done."

The three of you proceed inside. Lavinia's expectation that you'd be 
immediately marked as an uncultured foreigner and turned away proves 
to be exaggerated...the attendants take your money like everyone else's, 
and no one comments on your accent. Of course, you are with the 
Gallinis.

The price is high enough to prevent any of the poor from being able to 
afford a visit to the spa, if they also have rent to pay. But with your 
wages, you can probably afford a weekly visit. Antonella admits she 
comes as often as possible, sometimes three or four times a week, 
noting that one of the things she really came to enjoy in Ifriquiya was the 
baths. "Of course the Romans built all of those bathhouses in Ifriquiya, 
and taughts the Saracens how to bathe," Lavinia says.

"Well, it's a shame fewer Romans bathe nowadays," Antonella replies. 
"Whatever else you might say about the Saracens, they're cleaner than 
most Europeans, that's for certain."

The hot water is heavenly. This really is a luxury you'd miss, back in 
Britain. There are also young female slaves who circulate and offer 
massages for a fee, which Antonella recommends.


Through the steam, you notice something Antonella hasn't, and it rather 
surprises you that Antonella has forgotten such an obvious detail.

The scar on her breast. Especially with her skin flushed by the heat, it's 
clearly visible, a painful reminder of the worst part of your visit to 
Ifriquiya.

Lavinia's eyes keep darting to it. Antonella's younger sister must have 
noticed it before now....the fact that it still generates such curiousity can 
only mean Antonella has never explained it.

When Antonella rises to lie by the side of the pool and get a massage, 
you also notice the scar across her back....the single lash-mark across 
her shoulders that didn't heal.

Perhaps she simply told Lavinia to shut up the first time her younger 
sister asked about these marks, but if so, it's no wonder Lavinia is 
convinced Antonella's two years abroad were more eventful than she'll 
admit.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She luxuriates in the spa. She'd forgotten - or at least, not allowed 
herself to remember - how wonderful the baths in Africa were.

She notes Lavinia's interest in Antonella's scars. But the whipping for 
Antonella was probably as traumatic for her, as her own rape. She 
allows Lavinia to see her watching her, and when she is noticed, gives a 
small shake of the head. Lavinia would just have to wonder.

<><><><><>

[GM]

After the baths, Antonella wheedles with the two servants that 
accompanied them to the spa, and persuades them to escort the girls to 
the market. Not that a pair of servants have much chance of arguing 
against Antonella.

Astrid chooses rich fabrics, including some overpriced silk, and a few 
already-made articles of clothing, and some jewelry.

"Papa is going to be wroth with you, spending all this money on more 
baubles!" Lavinia chides.

Antonella holds up a bolt of blue silk against Lavinia. "Don't you think 
this would look good on her, Agnes?"

Antonella may not be eager to marry, but she still likes attention. Both 
the girls draw a lot of admiring looks in the market. Lavinia seems 
slightly flattered, but mostly embarrassed by it. You also get a few looks, 
but the two Gallini sisters tend to outshine you.

After spending more than you make in a month (Signor Gallini really *is* 
going to be angry at Antonella), the servants show growing impatience 
at Antonella's shopping trip.

She turns to you and says "Won't you come back to the manor with us? I 
can have Renato sneak you in again." She glares at her escorts, silently 
commanding them to say nothing.

"We can braid your hair and maybe find some nice dresses for you. 
You'll look beautiful when you go home!"

This sounds like the sort of girlish activity you never had time or 
inclination for, growing up as an only child and something of a tomboy in 
Marham. It probably makes up a large part of their leisure time, though, 
and since usually they have only each other, it's easy to see why they'd 
be thrilled at the prospect of adding another woman to their company.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She makes her excuses as the two girls head home, and Agnes heads 
towards her rooms.

"Make me look beautiful? Pah!" she tells herself as she walks back.
"As if I don't have enough problems with Dino, without flaunting myself at 
him, never mind any others." She contemplates her rather plain but 
functional skirt blouse and bodice, her functional calf-length boots and 
her hair - clean now, mind - in its long braid."No thank you, Antonella, I'll 
stay plain.

She diverted herself from her rooms headed back to the warehouse. She 
had some work to do to make up for taking an afternoon at the baths. 
"Probably worth it though," she tells herself, feeling clean for the first 
time since leaving Africa. "Thank you, Antonella," she says thinking of 
her prospective pupil, "for persuading me to go  - I'll go again."

<><><><><>

[GM]

Dino doesn't need much encouragement. Your failure to succumb to his 
entreaties has made you more desirable than any advantage in 
appearance could do.

He continues bringing you small tokens, gradually becoming 
pricier....and notices that you've started taking a weekly trip to the baths. 
(Where you continue to be subjected to Antonella and Lavinia's sibling 
silliness....which is both amusing and exasperating. Antonella grew up 
quite a bit in the two years you spent with her, but being with her sister 
seems to erode much of her maturity. Still, underneath the petty jibes 
and faces and occasional pushes and slaps, you can tell that Antonella 
genuinely loves and cares for Lavinia, and Lavinia loves and admires 
her big sister.)

Returning from a bath one afternoon, where Lavinia and Antonella were 
particularly tense (they mentioned a suitor from Genoa, and how avidly 
their father was advocating his virtues to Antonella, suggesting to you 
that Aleardo Gallini is getting a bit tired of Antonella's pickiness and will 
probably try to force a decision soon), you find Dino waiting in the 
warehouse. He begins following you as usual as you inspect the 
merchandice and balance the books.

"You smell nice after those baths," he says. "I'm surprised you're such a 
devotee of the practice...I thought bathing was not fashionable outside 
Rome?"

He puts his hands on your shoulders. "You know, for a woman who 
feigns indifference, you do an awful lot to maintain your appearance, 
and my interest." (Of course, to him anything you do that enhances your 
attractiveness must be to maintain his interest.) "Do you *really* have a 
husband you're expecting to return to Rome?" He tries to take your 
hand, ostensibly to inspect your band.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

Dino's tokens pile up on the bookcase beside her desk. Not haphazardly 
showing disrespect, but not like cherished tokens either.


That afternoon, she avoids his hand, and quickly steps away from him to 
make his hand leave her shoulder.

"I do indeed have a husband. 
I expect Sancho to return to Rome for me, and I intend to meet up with 
him.
I am not interested in you, Dino. I work for your father, and I keep his 
business going. When he dies, it will be your business, and I will keep it 
going for you then. But that is where our relationship ends."

She faces him, keeping her distance. "Do you understand?"

<><><><><>

[GM]

"But you've accepted my gifts!" Dino protests, sounding like a petulant 
child. "Who are you bathing and dressing up for, then?"

He can't seem to accept that a woman could be so uninterested in him. 
"So where is your husband now?" He tries to move closer. "Our 
relationship doesn't have to end there. I'm going to be fabulously 
wealthy when my father dies, you know. How rich is this Sancho? Can 
he provide a better life for you than I could?"

"Am I so unattractive?" He tries to smile charmingly.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

"I accepted your gifts because they were gifts, and to refuse would have 
been insulting to you. No doubt you have noticed though that they still sit 
be my desk in the office - I have not taken them home as cherished 
items. They are gifts from my employer, and they have stayed at work. If 
you wish them returned, please take them.

Does it not occur to you that I bathe because #I# like bathing.I do it for 
my own pleasure not anyone else's. And in case you hadn't noticed - I 
don't "dress up". I wear smart and clean clothes because I have self 
respect."

She shakes her head.

"Dino, don't you understand? There is more to my life than money. I 
don't care how wealthy you think you are going to be, nor how poor or 
wealthy Sancho is. It doesn't matter to me."

Keeping her distance, she says.
"No, our relationship will continue - you are my employer's son. But that 
its the limit of it.

And no, you are not unattractive, so you will have every chance of 
attracting some other woman. But this one is not interested."

<><><><><>

[GM]

Anger and disappointment flash in the young man's eyes. This is the 
point where it could become sticky. You've had to refuse a lot of men 
over the years, and you've met very few who took rejection gracefully. 
Dino isn't even close to being the most troublesome you've ever had to 
deal with....he's just an arrogant, self-centered brat.

He also seems to be so unused to rejection, he's not sure how to deal 
with it. So finally he just sputters "Fine! Keep the gifts!" and turns on his 
heel and stomps out of the warehouse.


It would be exaggerating to say Dino gives up after that. He still lounges 
about your work area now and then, attempting to engage you in idle 
conversation, which he will turn towards flirtation if given a chance. He 
seems to have decided that if he's patient enough, eventually you'll 
simply change your mind. But he keeps his distance...and stops bringing 
you gifts.


Antonella refuses the merchant from Genoa. Each week the sisters are 
more tense, and one afternoon Lavinia is actually red-faced and teary-
eyed, while Antonella stands stiffly, with her arms folded and her gaze 
fixed firmly off in the distance. She barely speaks the entire afternoon. 
Obviously they've been fighting, with each other, with their father, or 
both. The Gallinis must be heading towards a showdown. And of course, 
there is little you can do about it. Antonella always listens to your advice, 
but you don't know if she ever actually heeds it. And you know of no 
brilliant solution to her problem anyway....she's already placed herself in 
an untenable situation.



You have been back in Rome for about three months. Life proceeds on a 
fairly even course, at least for you. Dino is no more annoying than usual, 
and under pressure from his father, is finally looking at women as 
prospective wives (a status that you have no illusions he ever intended 
for you). Hopefully being married will settle him down a little bit, though 
you doubt it will keep him from continuing to make passes at you.

Antonella's and Lavinia's situation remains precarious, but all you can 
do is wait, and as you told Techo, pick up the pieces afterwards.


One evening as you make your way back from your weekly visit to the 
thermae, through the lower-class neighborhood which has actually 
become rather familiar to you (you now recognize a number of the 
residents and nod at them in passing or even stop to chat), you realize 
you are being followed. Someone is moving about a block behind you, 
trying to stay hidden in shadows, but definitely keeping pace with you.

You can't be completely sure it's not an immortal, since the exact range 
at which you can sense one another isn't something you've really tested, 
but your pursuer is probably pretty close to the limit, in your experience. 
Still, you haven't sensed another immortal at all in the past three 
months. Rome is certainly big enough for several immortals to live here 
for quite a while before sensing one another, so it's not unlikely that one 
could have arrived without your knowing about it. Lucius would probably 
send you a message if he knew that another one was about....but while 
he's the elder immortal of Rome right now, he also seems to stay almost 
exclusively in his own neighborhood.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She continues walking normally until she rounds the next corner. 

Pulling her dagger from her boot, and resting her hand on the hilt of her 
sword, she runs down the street, and ducks into an alley. 

She waits ready. If it an immortal she feels she will step out when she 
feels him and start walking towards him. If it is a cutpurse, she'll draw 
her sword and see what happens.

<><><><><>

[GM]

You wait for several minutes. You do not sense the Quickening.

However, no one passes your hiding place, and you can't hear anyone 
approaching. Either your tail has gone in a different direction, or is 
waiting somewhere back there.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She draws her sword, and cautiously makes her way back to the street 
she had been on - watching and listening, and occassionally glancing 
behind

<><><><><>

[GM]

You don't see your shadow this time, nor can you pick him up again as 
you make your way home. Eventually, you sheath your sword before it's 
remarked upon, as you enter your own neighborhood.

Nothing else unusual happens that day. Perhaps it was just a random 
would-be cutpurse who gave up when the prey started to become 
elusive.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She puts it to the back of her mind as an odd occurance, but makes sure 
that she carries her sling and some lead shot, that her dagger is in her 
boot, and that she wears her sword.  The thought of the Gallini's money 
and buying chainmail occurs to her. But no - she'd wait to see the result 
of the Gallini crisis before spending any of her nest-egg

<><><><><>

[GM]

The next day, you rise from your bed, get dressed, and walk to the 
Savarino's warehouse, which is not far from their estate.

You find a piece of parchment rolled up and stuffed into the keyhole of 
the door.

When opened, it reveals neat Latin script:

"Agnes - you are in great danger. Please leave Rome!"

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She carefully considered the note. 

She turned and walked to Lucius's.  It might not be in his hand. He had a 
right to know about i, if he hadn't written it.

And then she would write a note to Antonella, for Lucius to give her if 
things went badly saying that she had had to go away for a few weeks. 

The a note for Kemal.

"Why didn't I do all this before?" she chides herself.

She goes to work. 
During the day she will start arranging for some chainmail to be made.

She is not going to be chased out of Rome.

<><><><><>

[GM]

Lucius is wary at first when you come to visit, but he is hospitable 
enough.

He looks at the note carefully. "No, it was not me who sent this," he 
says.

"You have sensed no other immortals in Rome?" he asks.

"You don't know who else might have sent you this warning, or why?"

He is clearly disconcerted. "Very strange. I will see what I can find out, 
though it's little enough to go on. I'll let you know if I learn anything, of 
course....do keep me apprised in turn."


Your chainmail is being made. It took a little persuading to convince the 
armorer to take seriously a commission for a woman's chainmail suit, but 
persuasion is something you're good at, and getting better.



Sunday morning, you emerge from your small quarters, to go to Mass 
and see the Gallinis again.

It's early, just before dawn. It looks like it will be a pleasant day.

As you step out the door, you trip over something.

As you tumble forward and hit the pavement, you see that a rope has 
been yanked taught at ankle level, in front of your doorway. You've 
heard of cutpurses, brigands and burglars of all sorts, using all manner 
of tricks to ambush a victim....but this? You live in a fairly good 
neighborhood, and have neighbors all around. A scream will certainly at 
least get someone to stick their head out the door and see what's going 
on. But no one is in sight right now.

You hit the ground, bruising your palms and knees.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She rolls away quickly from where she landed, trying to avoid the sap-
blow to her head that she fully expects, and looking around for 
movement in the darkness. There had to be someone there - why else 
put out he rope?

And then she intends to draw her dagger as she stands.

<><><><><>

[GM]

Something heavy lands almost where you lay a moment ago. As you roll 
aside, you hear a painful grunt as someone else rolls to the ground, then 
struggles to bounce up faster than you.

Someone was on the *roof*, and tried to jump on top of you. These are 
pretty daring thugs. If he'd landed on you, he'd likely have broken your 
back....but he could just as easily have broken his own leg with a stunt 
like that.

The two of you come up together. He's about your size, dressed in dark 
clothes, including a hood over his face, and holding not a sap, but a 
rather large club. He's a bit unsteady as he turns towards you, and steps 
back as you draw your knife.

Though you hear the second person running at you from behind, you 
aren't fast enough to turn and face him, or move to a position where you 
can see both assailants, before something swishes through the air at 
you. You catch it in the corner of your eye, and almost manage to 
duck....then there is a crack as something hard smashes your shoulder 
with enough force to dislocate it, and knocks you to the ground.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

"HELP!!! BRIGANDS!!!" she yells as she reels from the blow.

 She tries to regain her feet, wincing at the pain in her shoulder. [which 
one?]
Just getting up will be an achievement, she decides.

<><><><><>

[GM]

You get out "HELP!!! BRI-" and then the man who almost landed on you 
whacks you on the head with his cudgel. Only a glancing blow, 
fortunately, but it's enough to cut short your cry for help.

Trying to rise and draw another breath (your left shoulder is the one 
that's been smashed, forcing you to put all your weight on your right 
hand, clutching the dagger as you push off from the ground), you are 
completely vulnerable to the man behind you. His club (or whatever 
blunt weapon he's using) comes down on the back of your head. Your 
world explodes in glittering lights, quickly enveloped by darkness as you 
crash to the ground. You actually remain semi-conscious for a moment 
longer, feeling the ache in your twice-bruised skull, but you never feel 
the blow that finishes you off.



The next thing you feel is contraining bonds around your wrists and 
ankles. Consciousness returns almost all at once, but you have no idea 
how much time has passed....if you were just knocked out, probably not 
long, but if those blows to the skull actually killed you, you may have 
been out for quite a while...another imprecise factor of immortality; 
you've seen and heard of immortals getting up mere moments after 
being killed, but you know it can also be hours.

Some kind of rough cloth covers your face, leaving you totally blind. It 
feels like a sack. You can see only dim light through it. You have trouble 
breathing, and after another moment realize it's because a huge wad of 
cloth has been stuffed into your mouth, jammed very tightly.

You're lying on your side, with your wrists tied together in front of you. 
The ground bounces beneath you, and you feel a lot of weight pressing 
down on you. Taking another moment to take in your surroundings with 
the senses available to you, you'd guess you are in a wagon of some 
sort, with some kind of bulk material piled over you. You can hear 
wheels grinding and the wooden frame creaking as you sway back and 
forth.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

With little better to do, Agnes tries to get he wad out of her mouth with 
her tongue, teeth, and fingers.

As she starts she can imagine herself having to chew through the wad 
and the rope.

She tries to feel if the handle of her sword still lies by her waist. 

She curses never having thought to wear jewelry that had edges sharp 
enough to cut, yet looked not worth stealing. But then, she'd never 
considered that this would happen to her.

As she worked on the material, the questions "who?" and "why?" nagged 
at her.

<><><><><>

[GM]

Getting the gag off proves more difficult than you first thought. It is really 
packed into your mouth...you can hardly move your jaw. When you try to 
move your hands to your mouth, it turns out you are wrapped in a 
shroud-like cloth, or perhaps just bagged in a tight-fitting sack. With 
other sacks piled on top of you, moving even that small amount is a 
lengthy, tedious and uncomfortable struggle. It makes you start 
breathing heavily, which in turn makes you feel like gagging as you 
struggle to breathe around the cloth that threatens to clog the back of 
your throat...and you begin sweating, adding to your discomfort in the 
heat under whatever is piled on top of you.

When you do finally get your hands to your mouth....after much grunting, 
straining and struggling, and what would have been a lot of cursing if 
you weren't so thoroughly gagged...you find that there is another strip of 
cloth wrapped around your head, covering your mouth. Tied tightly. 
Whoever these people are, they couldn't have done a more thorough job 
of trussing you up, unless they had actually thought to pin your arms to 
your sides, or tie your wrists behind your back. The ropes around your 
wrists hold your hands tightly together, limiting the mobility of your 
fingers. All you can do is pluck feebly and mostly ineffectively at the gag.


The wheeled conveyance bounces along. For a while it felt like paved 
stones underneath, then the bouncing becomes rougher, and you're 
pretty sure you're traveling along a dirt road....and then even rougher, 
and you wonder if you're on a road at all. You can't hear much, being at 
the bottom of a pile of...something, so can't tell if there are a lot of 
people about, nor can you hear the sounds of a city surrounding you, 
nor detect the absence of such sounds.


You feel like you are going uphill for a while....then downhill....then uphill 
again. The terrain remains rough. You can't think of anywhere in the city 
that has rocky, bumpy surfaces on such a steep incline. The constant 
jouncing hinders all your efforts to extricate yourself. You have slightly 
loosened the tie around your head, but the gag remains in place. You 
are *very* uncomfortable. One sack of something (you're starting to 
guess grain, or perhaps just sand) is squeezed against your stomach, 
and sends a jolt to your bladder every time the wheels go over another 
rock or depression.

Finally, the hellish ride slows, then stops.

You hear creaking, and something scraping against the wood.

Then sliding sounds, and weight comes off of you. Someone is pulling 
the bags off.

You feel yourself exposed to open air (or at least, the bag or shroud 
you're wrapped in is), and someone cries out in momentary alarm. A 
hand grabs your hands, which are held up around your head, through 
the cloth.

"Stop it!" someone snaps, in Latin. You hear muttering. The hand lets go 
of you. There are two men, and now they're speaking a language you 
don't recognize. It sounds vaguely familiar, as if related to some 
language you have heard...but you can't make any sense out of it.

You hear a voice in your ear...someone leaning close to you. It's a 
surprisingly young voice.

"Agnes," he says, a little breathlessly. He continues, in Latin. "I know....I 
know you don't understand what's happening...and you're probably 
frightened and confused....I'm sorry."

More muttering in that other language. There's someone else with the 
young man, and they're disagreeing. It lasts a moment, then he goes on.

"You won't believe this, but I...we-" The other person hisses, and you 
hear a sharp sound, like a swat, then a brief protest from your unseen 
captor. "We don't mean you any harm. I- I- I'm sorry...."

"I swear to you, we aren't going to hurt you. But....but please, don't 
struggle or fight....I don't want to have to hit you over the head. I know...I 
know it won't do you any permanent harm....but I don't want to have to 
do it."

The other person growls something, a single word that sounds like an 
epithet or an oath.

"We won't hurt you..." the young man repeats, sounding almost plaintive.

Then hands move under your shoulders, find a grip through the cloth, 
and begin pulling you out of the wagon. Someone else takes your 
ankles, and they begin bearing you aloft. Their grips are surprisingly 
gentle.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

Having seen the lack of success at escaping her bonds so far, Agnes 
makes no attempt to escape, and listening hard, awaits whatever fate 
these two mete out.

<><><><><>

[GM]

The pair carries you over what must be rough terrain. There are none of 
the sounds of civilization, and you feel breeze blowing against your sack 
or shroud. You are clearly outdoors.

Until you feel the breeze grow stronger, briefly, and then stop. Echoes of 
your captors' footsteps indicate now they're inside.

The man holding you by the shoulders slips, his feet sliding roughly over 
a sandy or pebbly surface. He lands awkwardly, but positions himself 
under you, so your head hits his legs, rather than the ground.

"Sorry!" the young man gasps, picking you up again, with care.

"Idiot," the man holding your legs grunts.

The two of them exchange heated, whispered words in that foreign 
tongue as they continue down a slight incline.

Finally, the younger man addresses you again. "*He* says I shouldn't tell 
you anything," he mutters, in Latin.

"But I can't just....hide you away and not tell you anything, I know....I 
know this must seem awfully, well...bad....I mean- you probably think 
we're horrible people....but we're really trying to save your life...." The 
poor man really sounds embarrassed and ashamed. It would be easy to 
feel sympathy for him, if not for all the things they've done to you, for 
which he *should* feel embarrassed and ashamed. Which he seems to 
fully realize.

"You wouldn't leave Rome," the youth says, as if offering a justification 
for his actions.

He takes a deep breath. "You'd die if you stay there. There's..." A long 
pause. Perhaps the two are exchanging some unspoken communication. 
Your "friend" wins, as he continues. "A hunter coming. He'd kill you, you 
wouldn't have a chance Agnes. If you were in Rome, he would most 
certainly find you and kill you."

They lay you down on cold, hard, rocky ground. You're now surrounded 
by darkness, and hear scraping sounds, then see a dim spark of light 
shining through your facial covering. One of them has lit a torch.

"I'm going to untie your legs, so you can walk," the young man says. He 
moves to your feet, and you feel him sawing at the ropes around your 
ankles with a blade.

"I can't let you see us, or know who we are, or anything about us," he 
goes on. "I've.....well, I shouldn't have done this. Warned you, I mean. 
Or tried to save you."

Another brief flurry of conversation in their foreign language.

The ropes fall away from your ankles. The speaker moves back by your 
shoulders, and puts his hands under your arms, so as to lift you gently to 
your feet- assuming you cooperate.

"I couldn't think of any other way to save you, without betraying- OOF!" 
you hear an impact, and feel it through his touch on your arms. His 
companion has punched or kicked him. "*Us*!" he finishes angrily.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

Her mind is starting to spin with questions. 
"Who are these people? Do they know she is immortal? How? What is 
she meant to do now? It's a good job I wrote that letter to Antonella. 
Antonella!! What about the hunter they are talking about?"

She allows herself to be lifted to her feet, and waits for her captors' next 
move.

<><><><><>

[GM]

You continue walking through the interior of...wherever you are. From 
the temperature, and the echoes, and the terrain underfoot, you get the 
impression you are in some subterranean environment....caves, or 
possibly the sewers underneath Rome? Techo mentioned once how 
extensive they are, and that there are entire sections where no mortal 
has trod for centuries. Your companion doesn't say much else for now, 
just gently guides you with a hand on your elbow. The other fellow is 
walking behind you. Since your hands are tied in front of you, you could 
probably spin and wallop your "guide" with a double-fisted blow to the 
head....but his friend might be waiting, with a club or a staff or worse, for 
just such a move.


Whatever you expected, as you continue to make your way deeper into 
whatever hiding place they'd taken you, it isn't the sudden sensation that 
startles you as you cross an invisible threshold.

Your companion pauses. "You feel it, don't you?" he asks.

Holy Ground.


You are led a few more steps, then you hear something scraping along a 
stone floor. "You can sit down now," he says, and you feel something 
bump the back of your legs. He's pushed a bench or a stool or 
something over to you.

"You'll be safe here," he says. His companion is moving about the room 
or chamber or wherever you are.

The hood covering your head is partly peeled away...your eyes are still 
cowled, but you feel the cloth pulled away from your mouth and nose. 
Then the young man says "Uh...hold still, please, I'm going to cut away 
the gag."

You feel cold metal against your cheek. "I know you're probably very 
angry," he says quietly, as he begins cutting the tie around your head. It 
falls away. "Umm....I guess you might start screaming at me, or calling 
me names....I wouldn't blame you. But just so you know....we're far away 
from any other human beings...no one will hear you, so screaming won't 
bring help."

Very carefully, he pulls the tightly packed cloth out of your mouth. For a 
moment, screaming is impossible even if you want to- your mouth and 
throat is so dry, all you can do is gasp. At least, from the taste, the cloth 
seems to have been clean.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

**Holy Ground!**: she feels it as she crosses the threshold, and 
continues to feel it as the is led to the seat and sits.

**I can hardly start a fight here,** she tells herself, **even if I was in a fit 
state to do so.**

She was amazed at how calm she was. **It was probably the holy 
ground,** she told herself. 
**If they have gone to all this effort they are hardly likely to butcher me 
now - that would have been done in the street.**

When the gag is removed, she shuts her mouth and breathes steadily  
through her nose. Her parched mouth had to have a chance to recover 
before she did anything rash - like talk. 

She sits and waits. **Maybe I am relying too much on the holy ground,** 
she thinks, **but there aren't many other viable options but sit and 
wait.**

<><><><><>

[GM]

Your captor is silent for a few moments....perhaps expecting you to 
scream, or curse him out, or demand answers or something.

When you don't, he clears his throat. "Ummm....would you like some 
water?" You hear a stopper being pulled, then feel something being held 
to your lips.

"Why don't you just put it in her hands?" says the other person, with a 
tired voice.

"Oh..." the younger one mutters, embarrassedly.

He pulls the water container away from your mouth, and then gently 
picks up your bound wrists, and presses it into your hands. It's a tall, 
narrow jug, which you can hold awkwardly with your wrists tied together.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She carefully holds the container in her bound hands, lifts it to her lips 
and lets the water pour in. Much spills out of her mouth as her dry lips 
fail to close properly, but enough goes in for her to swallow painfully. 
Lowering the flask , she lets her mouth appreciate the water, before 
raising it again and drinking properly.

She holds the flask in her lap, ready to take more sips of water.
"Well, I am not dead in the street, so I presume you don't intend to kill 
me. 
Are you going to tell me what do you intend to do to me, and why? Or 
am I just going to sit here and wait until you feel like telling me - if ever?"

"You certainly seem to have gone to an awful lot of trouble to do 
whatever it is that you are doing. I suppose you are not going to tell me 
who, or why, or how?"

She realises that this means that someone has been watching her - 
probably for some time : that man in the street following her the other 
day, for example. It is not a thought that sits easy with her. 
**Still not much I can do about it now it seems.**

<><><><><>

[GM]

"I told you we wouldn't hurt you!" the young man says.

You hear him shuffling. "I told you why....to save your life. If you'd stayed 
in Rome, you'd have died. I...I tried to get you to leave. Although I'm not 
surprised you didn't run away because of a note stuck in your door. Still, 
I didn't know what else to do."

He clears his throat. "I can't tell you who we are. But we don't mean you 
any harm, Agnes. Quite the opposite." He sounds very earnest, as if he 
really wants you to believe him, and trust him, despite the 
circumstances.

"I'll have to keep you prisoner until...until it's safe for you to return to 
Rome," he says sadly. "If I just let you go now, you might go straight 
back to the city, not to mention-" he laughs a little dryly, "-I'd rather not 
face you when we don't have the advantage of surprise." He is now 
walking in a slow circle around you. "You're probably a pretty good 
fighter, I'll wager. Uh, I have your sword. I'll give it back to you when I let 
you go."

"I don't know how long it will be," he adds, as if anticipating your next 
question. "Hopefully not too long. N- He- the hunter....he isn't likely to 
stay in the city longer than a week, then he'll move on."

There's a long pause, then he asks "Are you hungry?"

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She remains sitting, bolt upright where he placed her, her hands on her 
lap, holding the bottle.
"That's very nice of you," she says dryly, "to take it upon yourself to 
judge me against my peers and find me wanting.
And the other immortals? Have you trussed them up similarly to take 
them out of harm's way too? Or in your omnipotence have you decided 
that they are capable of looking after themselves, whilst I am not?"

 She tells her stomach to forget it.
 "No I am not hungry," she retorts.

<><><><><>

[GM]

There is a long pause, as your captor seems to consider how to answer, 
and perhaps exchanges more unspoken communications with his 
comrade.


"No, we couldn't have removed Lucius from harm's way, even if we 
wanted to. He's, uh, he wouldn't have been as....accessible, as you."

No doubt true.....Lucius spends his life walled in and surrounded by 
servants and armed guards. These two ruffains with clubs would never 
have been able to get near him, much less successfully ambush him and 
spirit him out of Rome.

"I'm sorry, but the hunter will almost surely take Lucius's head."

Another pause.

"We weren't aware of any other immortals that are in Rome at the 
moment. Unless...." his voice trails off.


He waits for any reply you might give, then leans closer, almost 
whispering in your ear. "Agnes, believe me when I say, we know how 
you would fare against the hunter. We know you aren't very old, for an 
immortal. This man...he is perhaps the deadliest immortal who still walks 
the Earth. He is ancient....even more ancient than the Carthaginian, 
Techo. He is *named* in the books written before Moses led the 
Israelites out of Egypt...."

The speaker's companion begins yelling at him angrily in that language 
you can't identify. They argue for a few minutes, then their voices trail 
off.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]


A cold shiver runs down her spine.

"What about those not yet immortal?
He will kill them too won't he?

There is one in Rome who has not died her first death. Will he kill her 
too?"

Images of Antonella being slain before she even knows she is immortal 
cross her mind - and she worries.

<><><><><>

[GM]

Your captor takes another long pause. What he says next stuns you-

"Antonella Gallini?" In almost a whisper. "She *is* fated to be immortal, 
isn't she? We-" his speech is cut off again, more disagreement with his 
companion who apparently begrudges every bit of information this 
person is giving you.

Finally he says "I...I don't know.....no, I don't think he'll kill her. He....he 
always follows the Rules. Killing someone who isn't even immortal yet is 
against the Rules, isn't it?"

"Anyway, An- you can't sense her with your Quickening the way you can 
another immortal, can you? He probably won't even find her...."

Again his voice trails off. He does not sound at all as certain of these 
things as you'd like.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

"You seem to know rather a lot about me and others like me. I don't 
suppose you are going to tell me how or why. But you do seem rather 
unsure of some things. Maybe I could help fill the gaps in your 
knowledge, but I would need to know what you know to do that."

<><><><><>

[GM]

It's the older man who chuckles briefly, but your captor replies after a 
few moments.

"Yes, we do know quite a lot about you and your kind. And no, I can't tell 
you more about us. I just want to repeat my assurances that I- we, don't 
mean you any harm."

"We didn't kidn- abd- bring you here, to gain knowledge from you. We 
did it to save your life."

You hear him pacing. "About immortals in general, it may be that *I* 
know things that you don't." He stops pacing in front of you. "I...I would 
like to know more about you, Agnes. But are you offering because you 
believe that I'm trying to help you, or because you want something in 
return?"

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She allows herself a smile.
"I am offering, because I want something in return. I want to know who 
you are and how you know all these things. And why you appear to want 
to help some of us and not others. But then ... " she shrugs, "you said 
that you weren't going to tell me about those things earlier, so I suppose 
I will just have to hold my peace."

She takes another drink of water.

"So .... do I just sit here blindfolded and bound for as many days or 
weeks as it takes?"

<><><><><>

[GM]

The young man resumes pacing. "Well....I can't think of any other way to 
preserve our secrecy."

"I don't want to subject you to more discomfort than necessary. I brought 
bedding for you. There's a small room next to this one, where you can 
perform your ablutions."

He moves away, and you hear a whispered discussion between the two. 
Finally he comes back.

"We're going to take turns watching you. Please don't try to take off your 
bonds, or your blindfold."

He shuffles back and forth in front of you, and finally sighs, "Let us know 
when you want something to eat."

He pads away to the other side of the room. Through the dark hood 
covering your face, you can dimly sense a couple of bright spots now, 
and hear the occasional crackle from burning torches.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

**He was going to keep her like this!**

She fumed quietly to herself, before setting down the bottle, and 
announcing, "I wish to go to the toilet."

**Surely they will have to untie my hands then,** she tells herself.
**And there is no way they will retie them without a fight.**

<><><><><>

[GM]

The two men hesitate, then you hear one rising again.

"All right," the younger one who does most of the talking says.

You hear them muttering to one another, then your captor comes closer 
and lays a hand on your elbow, indicating with gentle pressure that you 
should rise so he can escort you through the doorway to the next room.

He pauses, then says "I'll untie your wrists."

"The pot is just on the other side of the door, to your right. Please don't, 
uh, try anything. And *don't* take off your blindfold."

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She goes inside and uses the pot.

Before she rises she takes off her blindfold.
"I have taken off my blindfold," she states matter of factly, "now what are 
you going to do?"

<><><><><>

[GM]

There is a long silence from the other side of the doorway.

Finally, the older man says, with a resigned voice, "Well....I suppose we 
will wait until you come through the doorway, then beat you senseless if 
you come out without your blindfold."

"Of course you can just sit in there for the next few days, but I imagine 
you'll get rather thirsty. And you have to sleep sometime."

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

"but as you beet me senseless, I will still have seen your faces, so it will 
all be pretty futile, because I will know what you look like. Beating me 
senseless won't do you much good."

She stands by the doorway waiting to grab either of them as they come 
through.

<><><><><>

[GM]

"That is true," the older man says, after a pause.

"So perhaps we'll have no choice but to cut off your head after we beat 
you senseless."

You hear the other man hiss something that sounds like a whispered 
protest, but it's cut short.

"Or we could just take you back to Rome and let the other immortal do 
that for us."

"Of course even if we don't do that, once we've been forced to beat you 
into submission a second time, we're not going to go through this again. 
Would you like to spend the next week or so bound and gagged and just 
left to lie there? We know you won't *die* of thirst or starvation, after all."

The younger one cuts in. "Agnes," he pleads. "I trusted you enough to 
untie you.....please, don't make this worse than it has to be."


Neither of them comes through the door. If it becomes a waiting game, 
they *are* the ones with the light, and the exit.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She waits stubbornly by the door. 
"I can wait. I probably have nothing to lose. Lose my head to you or lose 
it to some immortal. Is there any difference?" 
She stands defiantly on her side of the wall.

There is no way she is going to be bound and blindfolded without a fight.

<><><><><>

[GM]

"Now look, no one is going to cut your head off!" the younger one says 
with exasperation. "I didn't go to all this trouble to *save* you from 
getting your head cut off, just to do it myself!"


He waits.

Then adds, "Under the circumstances, I didn't really expect gratitude, 
but we haven't mistreated you, have we? We've been very 
accomodating, as much as we are able. I mean....you *could* be a bit 
more reasonable about this."


The three of you commence to settle in and try to wait each other out.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She sits and waits. 
**I have all the time I need** she tells herself.

A nagging voice in her head tells her that she is being unreasonably 
stubborn. But she ignores it.

She settles down for a long wait, reminding herself that at least it isn't 
the desert.

<><><><><>

[GM]

You sit there for many hours in the darkness, with just the pot for 
company. Through the door, you can hear the other two talking in low 
voices.

They can talk to one other to relieve their boredom, and they can take 
turns sleeping. They also have food and water, which you don't. You 
aren't that thirsty yet, since they kindly gave you some water earlier, but 
you are getting rather hungry. Of course, even a mortal can go without 
food for many days.

Sleep is another matter. You're getting tired.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She struggles against sleep.

She doesn't really want to hurt the two men. If what they said is true, she 
is even grateful. But, but... she has backed herself into a corner once 
more but being unthinkingly stubborn. 

She picks up the hood, and puts it back over her head. Sleepily she lies 
down, and rests her head on her arm. As consciousness slips away, she 
wonders if they will come in before she wakes, or whether she will wake 
up in time to resume her vigil.

<><><><><>

[GM]

Something disturbs your sleep. It takes a moment for your mind to lock 
onto it, and bring you fully awake.

One of them- the younger one- is calling out. "Agnes! Wake up, Agnes!"

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She tries to remind herself what she was meant to be doing before she 
fell asleep, and calls back, "What do you want?"

<><><><><>

[GM]

The other one speaks, with a resigned tone. "This is ridiculous."

"We opened the door on you. We could have clubbed you while you 
were asleep. But I couldn't."


"Listen....the whole point of our taking you out of Rome was to save you 
from meeting that other immortal. But now that we've done that....well, 
you know the danger. If you decide to go back to Rome while he's still 
there, it isn't up to us to control your actions. If you don't commit suicide 
now, you can always do it later."

"So we decided to let you go."

"The only problem is...we *can't* let you know who we are, or where 
we've brought you. This place is secret."

"If you'll agree to put on your blindfold and let us take you somewhere 
else, we'll escort you to another safe refuge."

"We can even find someplace where we can send you a message to let 
you know when it's safe to return to Rome."

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She comes fully to , remembering what is going on, and gets to her feet.

"Alright, I'll keep the hood on if you like. And I won't cause any more 
trouble for you."
 
Keeping her hand on a wall to orientate herself, she returns to the main 
room.

<><><><><>

[GM]

The men both seem very relieved.

"Come with us, then....we'll take you back outside." The man takes your 
arm, very gently, leading you away from the holy ground.

"I would take you to Ostia....but the hunter might go through there after 
leaving Rome. Maybe the safest place is somewhere he's already 
been....there is a convent south of Rome. Umm....can you talk your way 
into being given shelter at a convent for a while?"

"Or do you want us to just leave you out in the wilderness? He might 
scout the entire region before leaving Italy.....so you may not be safe, 
even if you're well hidden, up in the mountains. His tracking skills are 
inhuman."

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She sighs. 
"Alright. I suppose I could stand a convent for a while."

<><><><><>

[GM]

They help you up onto the back of their cart. This time they don't pile 
bags on top of you.

You ride for a quite a while in silence, and can sense the sun going 
down, and the temperature dropping. Sensible people don't travel after 
dark.

You have no good idea just how far you are from Rome, of course. You 
hear no other people, so they're probably traveling someplace off the 
usual roads and trails, which is probably wise, with a hooded woman in 
the back of their cart.

They continue on, as the light continues to fade. In the distance, you 
hear a wolf howling.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She sits in the cart, listening to the world go by, and checking to see if 
they have returned her sword and dagger.

As the light fades, and after the wolf howls, she asks, "Are we stopping 
for the night, or pushing onwards? You didn't bring some overnight stuff 
for me I suppose? Or a change of clothes for the convent? I thought not. 
Never mind."

<><><><><>

[GM]

If they have your sword and dagger, they haven't returned it to you yet.

After an awkward pause, the young man says "Umm, no extra clothes. 
We do have blankets." He leans back and presses a bundle into your 
arms.

"I guess we could stop for the night. If we keep going, we might reach 
the convent by dawn." He sighs. It strikes you that these two did not 
exactly put a lot of meticulous planning into their abduction of an 
immortal.

<><><><><>

[Agnes] 

She wraps a blanket around her shoulders, and thinks about how 
unprepared the two of them seem to be.

"And if we stop for the night, have you food and  the makings of a fire?"

"If you want to just push on, I don't mind."

<><><><><>

[GM]

"Yes," he replies.

"But I'd just as soon keep going." His companion grunts agreement.


You jolt along for many hours. A couple of times the cart veers too 
sharply for your liking. You suspect the driver is falling asleep at the 
reins, though the other one catches him and they change places before 
you all go toppling over.

The sun comes up, and you haven't arrived yet. But finally the younger 
one says, "Umm....it's in sight now. It would probably be best if we don't 
ride up with a blindfolded woman. Can we, ah, drop you off, and you 
give us time to ride away?"

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

"Alright.

Did you bring my sword and dagger?" she asks as she waits for them to 
help her down.

Once on the ground she accepts whatever they give her, and then waits 
by the side of the road for a few minutes, listening to her surroundings.

 Then, she takes off the hood, and looks around.

<><><><><>

[GM]

"Yes," the young one says. The older one takes your hand hesitantly, 
and helps you down from the back of the cart. The younger one stands 
in front of you, pausing, then presses your sword and knife into your 
arms.

He stands there a moment longer, then says, "I hope....you won't think 
too badly of us. I know we probably could have found a better way to do 
this. But we really shouldn't have.....well...you just wouldn't understand."

They climb into their cart, and the young one calls back softly, "Don't 
lose your head, Agnes."

You hear it rattle away, and finally take off your blindfold. You're 
standing on a hillside overlooking a monastic building (or more properly, 
a convent, presumably) that is situated at the end of a fairly developed 
road. There is a forest on the other side of the convent. You don't 
recognize the landscape immediately, but you figure you can't be more 
than a day's ride from Rome.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

"You are right. I wouldn't understand. But then you haven't exactly told 
me much to help me understand, have you? 
I would appreciate something from you some time. Even if it is a note 
from your will. I hope to have a long time to think about it."

She waits for them to leave.
"Thank you," she replied to the young man's good wishes.

 With her blindfold off, she fitted her dagger in her boot, and her sword 
in her scabbard, and set off towards the convent.

 She pulled the bell-rope at the gate and awaited a response.

<><><><><>

[GM]

The young man takes a deep breath, and pauses....and finally says, 
"I....no. I would like to talk to you-  I'm sorry. I cannot."

"We will find a way to send a message to you here at the convent, when 
it is safe for you to return to Rome. But...don't expect to ever hear from 
us again."



At the convent, an older nun opens the door, and looks at you with 
surprise.

"Good day to you," she says politely. Eying your sword, she surprises 
you by grinning good-humoredly, showing a few rotted teeth. "Now, 
somehow you don't look like you're here to take on vows. I'm guessing 
you're here to seek shelter for a time?"

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She smiles back at the nun. Inb her best church Latin she replies, "You 
are correct Sister. I an seeking a refuge for a while: until I am told that it 
is safe for me to return. I have been led to believe this will be a week, 
maybe three."

She unbuckles her sword belt, and takes it off her waist. "I will of course 
abide by all the rules of the convent, and repay the order for its 
kindness."

She decides that the dagger can safely remain in her boot. "May I 
enter?"

<><><><><>

[GM]

"Of course," the nun says. She steps aside. "And I will not take your 
sword from you, though we would appreciate it if you not wear it around 
the convent."

"Welcome to the Convent of St. Katerina. I am Sister Donna."


The convent is rather different from the Lindesfarne Abbey. Besides the 
fact that it is inhabited by nuns instead of monks, of course, you also find 
that this is not a "working" convent. The sisters seem mostly engaged in 
illumination, transcription, and translation. The education level is 
surprisingly high; nearly all of them speak Greek as well as Latin, and 
you are surprised to discover a nun who speaks fluent Arabic! And 
while, like any visitor to a cloistered community, you arouse curiousity, 
you are mostly given freedom to roam, and not questioned too closely.

There are a number of young women here, which isn't unusual, but it 
seems unlikely that such an "educational" convent would take the 
common peasant girls that have found refuge here....most monastic 
orders who accept the poor (i.e. acoloytes who won't be bringing a large 
endowment from their families) are definitely working establishments 
where the lower levels of the order do back-breaking work in the fields, 
or laboring at crafts. Here, while there is a lot of cleaning and upkeep to 
busy the girls with, aside from chores and the various services during 
the day, the rest of their time is spent studying.

You have never heard of the Katerinian order before, but Sister Donna 
says they were founded in the fifth century. She claims they have 
convents and abbeys all over Europe, and even a couple in Ifriquiya 
(which you find unlikely; you know the Muslims don't tolerate "infidel" 
religious houses.)

Sister Donna isn't the abbess, but is senior next to her. She takes to 
following you about when she's not otherwise engaged, making 
conversation. While she rarely asks direct questions, her comments are 
often leading, such as her noting your Saxon accent, wondering about 
your arrival without a horse or a pack, and asking if you've received 
'word' yet as to whether it's safe to return (a phrase she also places odd 
stress on.) Either she's simply curious (which is natural enough), or is 
skillfully trying to ferret out information about you.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

A still small voice nags at the back of her mind, and she remains wary of 
giving away too much or being too trusting.

She admits to being Northumbrian, and lets Sister Donna tease out of 
her that she worked her way to France; she spent a while travelling in 
the company of a muslim who rescued her from ill-treatment by locals; 
and she travelled to Rome with a merchant caravan. A friend in Rome 
had tipped her off that someone was looking for her, and brought her 
most of the way to the convent. She expects to hear word from him at 
some point. "Why am I being pursued? It has something to do with a 
blood feud that I'd rather not talk about."

Despite the attention it will bring, she uses her enforced confinement to 
hone her skills with her sword. Having sought out a quiet area of the 
convent, she spends an hour a day practicing. The rest of the time she 
takes the opportunity to look at and read the books in this horde of more 
books than she has ever seen in one place.

<><><><><>

[GM]

The nuns notice your sword practice, and you get a few of the younger 
ones trying to watch you, before their superiors usher them away. But 
surprisingly, no one comments to you directly.

They are willing to let you read their books, and their collection is 
impressive...histories predominate, though there are a considerable 
number of philosophical and theological texts, and some on the 
sciences, such as agriculture and meteorology. Many of the volumes are 
in Greek, which is of course inaccessible to you.

You also notice that some of the senior nuns, those who guide the 
research efforts of the rest, have access to a smaller library that is 
separated from the main room by a sturdy, locked door.

Sister Donna remains hospitable, chatty, and generally a pleasant 
person to be around. Yet you can't shake the feeling that there is 
something more beneath her guise of a harmless old woman who likes 
to make conversation with odd visitors. Not that anything seems sinister 
or duplicitous about her...you just feel like there is more to her polite and 
reasonable inquiries than idle curiousity, and her powers of observation 
are almost certainly keener than she will let on.

Her only response, when you tell her of the blood feud, is to nod 
understandingly and say "Of course, my dear. Well, you are free to 
remain here as long as you need. We never turn anyone out of 
sanctuary."


Six days pass, during which time you increase your knowledge 
considerably, and begin wishing you knew some Greek, since besides 
Latin and Arabic, that seems to be the language most required of those 
who would be educated and well-read.

One morning, Sister Donna comes to you after morning prayers, and 
asks if you would mind coming to the Abbess's office.

You have not yet laid eyes on the Abbess herself. The senior nun 
escorts you to a surprisingly small office- barely more than a cubicle- 
where a surprisingly young woman (not truly young, probably in her late 
thirties, but this makes her younger than Sister Donna, and certainly 
younger than most Abbesses) rises to greet you.

"You would be our latest guest, Agnes...of Northumbria?" the Abbess 
asks. She smiles. "I am Reverend Mother Lara. I apologize for not 
having greeted you in person before, but I have been terribly busy. 
There is always a lot of work to do."

She glances at Sister Donna. "You may go, Sister."

The older nun, who was leaning against the doorway, jerks upright and 
looks a little surprised, and slightly disappointed. Then she smiles and 
bows. "Of course...thank you, Reverend Mother." She slips away.

The Abbess retrieves a slip of parchment from her podium, which she 
was standing behind to read. "A message came this morning, with our 
monthly delivery of staples from Rome. It is addressed to you." She 
raises an eyebrow, and hands you the note. Neither sealed, nor 
enclosed in any kind of envelope, so the Abbess may very well have 
read it (in fact, she would be a person of amazing restraint and lack of 
curiousity, not to mention lack of concern for what's going on in her 
convent, if she has not).

On one side is scrawled "AGNES" in clumsy block letters. On the other 
side, in neat Latin script, is just a single line:

"Rome is safe again."

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

The feeling of there being something not quite right, stays with her. The 
two men who abducted her obviously knew what she was. This was their 
choice of destination. It did not seem beyond the bounds of 
reasonableness to assume that at least some of the nuns would too... 
And yet none had said anything. She had decided that Sister Donna had 
been set to watch her. Was that a threat? She didn't know. Agnes knew 
she could always leave  - or at least try to. But the books here were ever 
such a reason to remain. She hadn't really made any decisions when 
she was clled to see the Abbess.

The woman's age surprised her a bit, but then with the convent so close 
to Rome, she decided that it could be a political appointment.

She accepted the note, bobbing a curtsey, and saying, "Thank you 
Reverend Mother." Agnes knew she looked like a young wwoman. she 
had got into the habit of showing the respect to people that they would 
expect of a woman of that age. She blended in better that way. Of 
course, that assumed she hadn't lost her temper.


The note came as a bit of a surprise, it's arrival being at odds with her 
hypothesis about what was going on.

"This means that I can leave for Rome, which I shall do on the morrow."

She decided to await the Abbess's response, before requesting that she 
be allowed to return and be taught Greek. She needed to find out 
Lucius's fate, but she would rather study here than do books in Rome.

<><><><><>

[GM]

The Abbess nods. "Very well," she says, without much reaction.

"The laymen who brought our supplies are staying the night, as they 
usually do. You'll be welcome to travel with them back to the city, when 
they leave tomorrow morning."

<><><><><>

The Abbess nods. "Very well," she says, without much reaction.

"The laymen who brought our supplies are staying the night, as they 
usually do. You'll be welcome to travel with them back to the city, when 
they leave tomorrow morning."

She smiles pleasantly at you, apparently having nothing else to say, and 
waiting for you to take your leave.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

"Thank you, Reverend Mother."

"There is one more thing. I would like to return to be taught Greek, if that 
would be possible."

<><><><><>

[GM]

Reverend Mother Lara raises her eyebrows, looking surprised. "Oh?"

Her brow wrinkles as she considers your request. "We welcome all 
visitors, and are willing to share the knowledge contained within these 
walls...at least for as long as it remains here." She sighs. "However, to 
actually *teach* you Greek....well, this isn't a school. We have sisters 
who could do it....but you're asking for more than just temporary refuge 
and the privilege of reading our books." She looks at you consideringly.

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

She smiles.  " I  appreciate that mother [D." "I will of course pay the 
convent for the tuition ." "If that would be a suitable way of doing things."

<><><><><>

[GM]

The Abbess taps her fingers on her podium. "Well....we are not in the 
habit of taking tuition. Of course we are not in the habit of taking on 
students."

She nods slowly. "Very well....I suppose it would be acceptable to take a 
reasonable tuition for the time spent instructing you in Greek. It isn't as if 
we don't have uses for the money." She sighs.

"I admit, I am a bit curious to know from whence comes this desire to 
learn Greek? I am told you are a remarkably well-educated woman. 
Have you studied elsewhere?"

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

"Not really, Mother. I am a merchant and a book-keeper, but I was taught 
to read and write Latin by a monk in Britannia. I have discovered a thirst 
for knowledge since then."

She keeps to herself the thought that if she could learn Greek, already 
knowing Latin and Arabic there was nowhere in the world that she could 
not get by if she had to travel.

<><><><><>

[GM]

"I see," Mother Lara says. "Well, it is an admirable thing for anyone to 
seek knowledge, but especially women. Travel safely, and we will await 
your return."

She smiles wryly. "I believe Sister Donna will be hovering nearby, 
outside the door. You can make your arrangements with her."

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

With a, "Thank you Mother," she curtsies and leaves.

Sister Donna is indeed nearby. Agnes wouldn't have thought that nuns 
would listen at the Abbess's door, and indeed maybe she didn't. But she 
was close enough to have done so, and she was not sitting placidly by 
the bench as Agnes might have suspected.

With her face giving away nothing of her concerns and curiosity, she 
says, "I will be leaving for Rome in the morning, Sister Donna.
However, once I have put my affairs in order in Rome, I will return here 
so that I can be tutored in Greek."

<><><><><>

[GM]

Sister Donna looks surprised, and says "Oh! How wonderful! I 
mean....very unexpected, but the younger nuns certainly enjoy having 
you around. Your sword drills have them all a'twitter, you know." The 
older nun winks.

"I'll help you pack your things, if you like. And speak to the teamsters so 
they'll know they have a lady accompanying them back to the city." As 
she walks along with you back to your quarters, she says "So, why 
Greek, if I may ask? I thought you were waiting to return to Rome, 
once....everything, had smoothed over."

<><><><><>

[Agnes]

As they walk back to Agnes's quarters, Agnes replies,
"Why Greek? Because I do not understand it. Why else would I want to 
learn Greek?"

"Anyway," she continues, looking to see her reaction, "it will let you 
continue to keep a close eye on me."


"Of course, I won't be able to return straight away. I will have things to 
put in order. Still. you could always accompany me."

<><><><><>

[GM]

Donna chuckles at your first comments, but looks startled when you 
invite her to accompany you.

"Oh, that's....very kind of you. But I can't leave the convent." She smiles. 
"What would the Reverend Mother do without me? Oh no, I haven't been 
to Rome in almost twenty years." She sighs. "I hope I'll get a chance at 
least once more, before I die, but we have entirely too much work to do."

She chats with you a while longer, and then leaves you for evening 
prayers.


The next morning is clear and cold. There are six men leading the small 
train of pack animals back to Rome. They look surprised to see you, 
perhaps expecting that the lady they'd be taking back to Rome would be 
a nun. The senior man indicates where you should sit on the first wagon, 
a spot obviously out of the way.

Sister Donna shows up just as you're about to leave. She hands you a 
bundle wrapped in cloth, and passes out some more to the men. They 
look pleased, and thank her kindly. "It's always nice having fresh bread 
and cheese on the ride back, instead of trail rations. God bless you, 
Sister," the leader says.

"And God go with you," the old nun replies. "You take care of Agnes, 
now." She winks at you, while the pack leader snorts and looks at you 
with a bemused smile. "Looks like she can take care of herself," he says, 
eying your sword. But as he walks past one of his assistants, a 
teenager, who was eying something other than your sword, he smacks 
the youth on the back of the head. "Behave yourself!" The young man 
flushes, and turns back to his animal.