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[katabasis]

action + written + crystal

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[katabasis]

[Somewhere in the background, the sound of shouting. A ship is being refit - cabling tarred, seams resealed, sails worn thin under summer heat reinforced. Winter in the Waking Sea, even cut by the shelter of a harbor, is hard on things.]

If you like. I assume you're supplying the bottle.

[bouchonne]

How demanding you are.

[ There's no sound of work behind Byerly. He is idle now as ever. ]

But yes, I suppose I'll make that sacrifice. Come by the offices, won't you?

[katabasis]

[He could say no.]

I'll see what I can do.

[Some hours later, what the amounts to is a rap of knuckles on the door, a click of the latch. He opens the door, but doesn't quite cross the threshold. Manners, etc.]

[bouchonne]

Come in, come in.

[ The office has been staged to cultivate a sense of - comfort, after a fashion. The curtains are drawn, candles lit; a pleasant scent of incense fills the air. Byerly sits behind his desk with his doublet mostly unbuttoned, the strings at the throat of his undershirt untied, the picture of casual insouciance. On the desk before him is a bottle of brandy - and not the standard rotgut they're able to get their hands on, but a bottle from a decent Antivan estate. A fair amount has been drained already. ]

Have a seat.

[ And, without even asking, By leans forward to pour Flint a generous glass of the drink. ]

[katabasis]

[He lingers there in the doorway for quarter beat - he's been in this room three times, and this is the most carefully cultivated he's seen it. No surprise there; Rutyer has a flair for the dramatic.

Still.]

If I didn't know better, [said, pulling the door shut; he crosses the room, takes the chair. There are spots of black on his hands from the ship, a smear of the same tar stain on a forearm under the rough cuff of his rolled sleeve.] I might think you were making some effort to appease me.

[bouchonne]

[ By's smile is actually rather pleasant. Bordering on solicitous. ]

Things will go better if we get along - don't you think, Captain? For the sake of Riftwatch, we ought to find some harmony between us.

[katabasis]

I was unaware we had such differences of opinion.

[The glass, generously filled as it is, is fetched up. He takes a drink, pauses over the glass, and then another sip. It's good brandy.]

Do you have concerns?

[bouchonne]

[ Wryly: ]

Do you? [ A cheery shrug. He leans back a little further in his seat. ] You certainly can't tell me that you endorsed my leadership.

[katabasis]

[With a look so flat it's almost a joke:]

Would you endorse your leadership?

[bouchonne]

[ A quirk of his eyebrow. ]

I did self-nominate. [ Honestly. ] Haven't we worked together well in the past? We were practically comrades-in-arms at Ghislain. Doesn't that earn me some loyalty?

[katabasis]

I have, contrary to what I assume can only be most of Riftwatch, every confidence in your sword arm, Mssr. Rutyer. But this-- [a tip of the head, indicating the offices. He smiles. It's almost pleasant.]

It's a different sort of business.

[bouchonne]

Is that so? I believe this is the first time that someone has evaluated my blade as being sharper than my wits. But please, instruct me about the nature of this business.

[katabasis]

[I didn't say that, he doesn't say, but it must be in his face. Some confidant or indulgent quirk of the mouth.]

The blade is simple. It had been wielded more or less in tandem to my own. I could see the hand guiding it. I don't think you're witless. I just can't quite figure out why you're here at all.

[bouchonne]

[ He blinks in mock-surprise. ]

Why - are you suspicious of me?

[katabasis]

[A grin, all teeth. He drinks from the glass.]

[bouchonne]

[ And Byerly studies that smile, and lets out a long, long sigh. ]

What can I do to allay your suspicions? To win your trust?

[katabasis]

I'm sure you'll think of something.

[Maybe he will.]

The work Amsel was doing - how do you mean to continue it?

[bouchonne]

Maker preserve me; don't tell me you're coming after me for mage rights, too.

[katabasis]

I mean her interest in the Qun.

[bouchonne]

Ah, I haven't read that section of her notes. Tell me all about her interest in the Qun, please, Captain.

[katabasis]

We didn't speak at length on it. [Or anything whatsoever, save the aborted murder of Archon Radonis.] But something will need to be done.

[bouchonne]

Something.

[ He reaches for the bottle, reaches out to top up Flint's glass before refilling his own. ]

Do you have suggestions?

[katabasis]

Do you have thoughts?

[Parry.]

[bouchonne]

None at all.

[ He smiles toothily. ]

[katabasis]

Ah. [He takes a drink from the topped off glass and then sets it well aside.] That's too bad.