Who watches the watcher? --
The Faculties of Arkat --
Lend me your Ear
Is it safe? --
Bond of trust --
A Nose for trouble
~oOo~
Touchstone has the strongest suspicion that someone is following him.
He became aware of a prickling sensation on the back of his neck soon after leaving the others in park, but as yet he has no firm evidence that he has picked up a tail. Nevertheless, his instincts in matters like this are rarely wrong, and the implications of recent events have made him doubly edgy.
His first duty, he knows, after the extraordinary scene that he both witnessed and played a part in this morning, is to deliver his report to an Ear. In order to do this, he needs to send a prearranged signal, find a place of comparative privacy and wait to be contacted. When the Ear arrives they will each verify their identities by an exchange of passwords. This is a process that he must keep secret even from his lover Sheri, so if he really is being followed then he needs to find some way to elude his pursuer - or is it pursuers?
Leaving Sheri behind with instructions to signal him if she spots anyone tailing him, Touchstone leaves. Trying not to show his suspicions Touchstone strides boldly back towards the open ground where the duel was held. His stride quickly takes him across the open space. Then with a pause to see if Sheri has spotted anyone he moves into the alleyways of the houses beyond and heads for more familiar territory.
When Sheri fails to appear, Touchstone concludes that she has either managed to take a second pursuer off on a wild goose chase, or else been misled herself; either way, he trusts that she will turn up again in due course. In the mean time, he still needs to shake off his own pursuit. This sort of thing really plays to his strengths, however, and once back on his home territory he has no difficult in eluding his pursuer and doubling back to find out who it is.
It is with some surprise that he finally catches a glimpse of the person following him, and realises that he knows the man - by sight, at least. He does not know his name, nor anything else about him apart from one crucial piece of information: like Touchstone, the man who seems to have been following him is an Eye.
Keeping his distance, and continuing to observe the man without being seen himself, Touchstone ponders the implications of this turn of events, and considers his next move with some trepidation.
~oOo~
Why is he being watched by a member of his own organisation, Touchstone muses, and what should he do about it? Is this man a rogue, an infiltrator, who is now spying for a rival? If so, then it is more imperative than ever that he delivers his report to an Ear. What if this man is here with official sanction, though? Do the upper Faculties have doubts about Touchstone himself? Are there divisions within his organisation that he knows nothing about? Or a hidden agenda of which he is unaware?
The Faculties of Arkat are rigourously secretive. Touchstone knows a few other members by sight, and a few of those by name, but he has no real concept of its overall organisation. He was inducted into the society as a young man, coached in its philosophies and taught some of his present skills by a stern but inspiring mentor that he knew only as Larchspur, and who disappeared soon after Touchstone's first mission.
He receives coded messages from an unknown superior, including the instructions and pass phrases that he should use to identify the Ear to whom he should deliver his report. Mostly these messages tell him who or where to watch, but occasionally he has been given small tasks or assisted others. He is rarely told the purpose behind these missions, except where it is essential for its execution. This makes his understanding of the society's goals fragmentary at best, forcing him to take on faith their continued allegiance to the values that led him to join it in the first place.
From brief exchanges with Ears or those he has assisted on missions, he know that more senior or more trusted members are called Hands. These individuals generally know the purpose behind their actions, whereas those who are given tasks without knowing their purpose are called Fingers. Eyes, like himself, are also called upon to do Finger work, but their principal role is to observe, and their status is much higher. The only purpose of the Ears, as far as he knows, is to receive reports from Eyes and deliver them to their unknown superiors. He once heard the source (or sources?) of the messages that he receives described as Tongues; perhaps the Ears deliver their messages to these same sources?
He understands only too well the need for secrecy: Syran is awash with intrigues and organisations with aims that are far from noble. He has seen murder done in the name of power and knows that his own life would be in danger if his membership of the society was known. Sometimes, however, he fears that the obsessive secrecy masks something else, something that might change his allegiance.
Perhaps his superiors have become aware of this. Perhaps that is why they have sent an Eye to watch him. What should he do?
~oOo~
Touchstone quickly alters his appearance - turning his coat inside out to change its colour and pulling on a battered hat that he produces from his pocket - and then watches the hapless tail for a few more minutes to ensure that he has really thrown him off the scent. Satisfied that he can now move unobserved, he proceeds by a circuitous route to a quiet corner of Rivergate.
Waiting patiently on the appointed street corner, he is soon rewarded with the attentions of a grubby street urchin, who strides up to him boldly and says "'Ere, mister? Spare us a penny for a bite to eat, would ya? En't 'ad nuffink fer me breakfast t'day." Recognising the current code-word ("breakfast"), Touchstone casually responds with a surly "Why don't you go and eat some more dirt instead?" to which the child instantly responds: "Na, I've 'ad too many mud pies already this week. 'Sides they don't like us no more, down by the river. You gonna give me that penny now?" he adds hopefully.
Tossing him a coin, Touchstone watches the messenger scurry off without a second glance and then heads for the gate to Portside. He recalls that the current meeting point "down by the river" is an abandoned warehouse. As he approaches it, he is relieved to see that there is no-one around and cautiously approaches a door at the rear of the building. Finding it unlocked, he steps quietly inside. Beams of light pierce the ramshackle roof and walls criss-cross the interior, illuminating the abundant dust particles in the air. An assortment of old crates half-fills the room, offering countless places of concealment, but Touchstones attention is focussed on the indistinct figure standing at the far side.
A bit unsettled by recent events Touchstone takes all precautions in making contact and ensuring that he is indeed his appointed Ear. "Well met in shadow let us see what we can bring in to the light". The first phrase out of the way Touchstone advances some way toward the figure before him open handed.
Seeing the figure making the sign of the gate with his foot on the floor he continues gesturing with his hands. " Let all that is seen be spoken". Now for the first time the figure in the gloom replies: "Time moves on, but comes again, let the eye be heard".
Normally this would be enough of a conformation but goes closer so he can see who he is speaking to and to stare into their eyes sharply. "Firstly things have changed you know that another Eye tried to follow me here. What do you know of that?" And he adds the supplementary phrase "Are we safe?"
"Safe?" the other man echoes. "Well, that depends on your perspective, I suppose."
He steps forward a pace and a dusty beam of light intersects with his face. He, too, holds out his hands to show that he is unarmed (at least presently). Touchstone does not recognise the face before him, but something about the man's stance seems very familiar. He disregards for the moment the man's failure to give the expected response to his final passphrase ("As the Houses"), but instead listens warily as the stranger speaks again.
"Safe?" the man repeats. "We are safe from the prying eyes of the one who tried to follow you here, that much is certain. You are safe to deliver your report to me and we are safe to discuss its implications in this place of relative privacy. But is it safe for me to trust you, I wonder? And are you truly safe in my company?"
~oOo~
"Life is the primary cause of Death so I will take the risk," Touchstone comments in response to the stranger's provocative question. "Then we shall part in peace if possible".
He then gives a dry report on the mornings events. Barring any mention of the Opert Prophecy, he does not leave anything out any facts, but it is a bland report and does not carry any of the personal insights into the situation that he normally would include.
As he concludes his report he is feeling rather on edge and tries to takes his leave of this stranger, keeping his eyes and ears open. Even as he does so, however, the man leans towards him and his face is briefly illuminated by a shaft of light. He is smiling, his eyes twinkling mischieveously. Thus revealed, Touchstone's magically enhanced senses have no difficulty in piercing the man's skillfully-applied disguise. With an involuntary gasp, the Eye backs a pace away from the stranger. Could it be...?
The man shakes his head, still smiling faintly. "Now, now, Touchstone. I taught you better than that. Never betray your emotions, no matter how strong the provocation. And I also taught you to report everything that you observe, including your own thoughts and conclusions. Shall we try that again? Or would you wish to reconsider your earlier assessment of our safety?"
Touchstone can only gape at the man that he now recognises as his former mentor, Larchspur. "Is it really you?" he says, still mistrusting his senses. "I thought you must be dead."
"And that is what you were supposed to think," the older man notes. "And that is what most of your fellows still believe. Let us hope that it stays that way."
He pauses, his face serious now. "But my earlier questions were in earnest," he says. "Is it safe for me to trust you? And are you truly safe in my company? Oh, I didn't really expect you to answer those questions," he adds. "But before we go any further there must be complete trust between us, so I shall have to trust you at least a little way and hope that you will be worthy of it. I am not asking you to put aside your loyalty to the cause that we both serve, but I have reason to believe that your masters no longer serve that cause..."
He breaks off, fixing Touchstone with a steady gaze. When he speaks again there is a strange quality to his voice. "I ask you plainly, friend, in the name of Arkat: will you join me in this bond of trust?"
Touchstone ponders briefly all the while keeping eye contact. "Well my beliefs have not changed and it is with Arkat my loyalties lie. If you too follow Arkat you have nothing to fear from me. Arkat showed us that often you have to change to defeat your foes." Touchstone gives a faint smile
"Besides, I may be a fool for it, but I still do trust you. So speak you bond and we will join thumbs on it. "
~oOo~
His former mentor nods and holds out his left hand, as Touchstone does the same. Producing a small knife, Larchspur makes an efficient incision in his own thumb, then quickly pricks Touchstone's. Clasping fingers, the two men press their bloody thumbs together, intoning the ritual words of their compact.
"Hold fast and true against Deception, in Arkat's name. Blood bind you to your oath and burn if you be false."
Touchstone has made the blood oath only once before, when first he became an Arkat's Eye, but the memory is fresh in his mind now. Feeling the subtle power of the ritual, he gives an involuntary shudder and wonders what new cause he has just joined, and what confidence he has committed himself to keep.
"Well spoken, lad," Larchspur tells him gently. "I hoped I could trust you - you were always one of my most promising students. Very well. As I said before, I have good reason to believe that your masters in the Faculties no longer serve the cause that we both cherish. And if they knew that I was alive, then they would not hesitate to have me killed to protect their deception... nor will they hesitate to slay any who join me if my presence is revealed."
He smiles ruefully at Touchstone. "It is a perilous compact you have made, my friend."
"Your superiors are already suspicious of you," Larchspur continues. "As you have observed this morning. Evading your tail will not have helped to quell those suspicions, so we must be careful not to aggravate them further - for now, at least. Here's what I'd like you to do..."
He quickly outlines his plan. First, Touchstone must deliver his report to his appointed Ear - the unwitting fellow who was to supposed meet with Touchstone here today, but who received new instructions courtesy of Larchspur. If questioned about his evasion of the other Eye, Larchspur advises him to brush it off as standard procedure: no self-respecting Eye would dream of reporting to his Ear if he knew that he was being followed. The details of the report should be unchanged.
"In other words," Larchspur tells him, with a sly grin and a conspiratorial wink. "You can leave out all of the bits that you left out when you reported to me."
Once Touchstone has dutifully delivered his report, he is to do a little Eye-work for his new ally - a task that the Faculties of Arkat may also ask him to undertake when they have heard his report. Larchspur is a little more open than those shadowy masters when it comes to the purpose of this surveillance mission, which Touchstone finds reassuring. The man that he is to follow is one of the participants in the duel that he had witnessed this morning - the Iconographer, Tiago.
"This fellow seems to be at mixed up in this perilous intrigue of ours," Larchspur tells him. "But I'm damned if I know how or why. I came back to Syran after my self-imposed exile to find out once and for all why it was that the Faculties had turned against me. Instead of answers I have found only more questions and more lies - all of them pieces of a greater puzzle that I am only now beginning to see clearly."
"I don't know how our artist friend fits into this puzzle," Larchspur continues. "Nor how he has offended the conspirators that arranged this morning's events. I am certain of one thing, however: they believe that he is important - important enough that they would go to great lengths to eliminate him. What puzzles me most, however, is why they went to such extraordinary lengths if their intent was simply kill this man. Why the fake duel? Why the monster? Why not a simple knife in the dark?"
"There were obviously more wheels in motion this morning than I can fathom," he admits. "And that's why I want you to stick close to this fellow. Find out about the others as well if you can - if there is something that links them all together then that might just explain the duel and the monster. And this woman - another adept, I think you said? You'd do well to find out about her too."
Touchstone nods. He already suspects that he knows of one connection between the mismatched collection of people present at the duel this morning - and he includes himself in that number. He is reluctant to reveal this to Larchspur, however; perhaps when he has had the chance to investigate it further...
"That's all - for now," Larchspur concludes. "I'll contact you again in a few days time. I'd best go now - and you'd best go and make that report before it's too late. Be careful out there, son, and may Arkat watch over you."
Then, gripping Touchstone's arm briefly in an unexpectedly fond gesture, the older man steps back into the shadows and disappears, leaving Touchstone alone with his thoughts.
~oOo~
Following Larchspur's instructions, Touchstone finds his appointed Ear waiting for him beside the Broken Tower in Oldtown. He has encountered this man several times before, so they move perfunctorily through the identification ritual. The Ear is a pinch-faced man with a rather distracted air about him; his name, Touchstone knows from his own sources, is Lampwick. He does not seem unduly suspicious and listens without questioning, but seems eager to be gone when the the Eye concludes his report. They part and go their separate ways.
By this time it is mid-afternoon and the sun is beginning its downward journey towards the horizon. Touchstone returns to his modest abode in Rivergate, hoping that Sheri will be waiting for him there, but he is disappointed to find the house silent and no sign that his partner has been back in his absence. He stands in the middle of the room for a few moments, considering the days events and contemplating his next move. Should he wait here for Sheri, or try to make some productive use of what remains of the day?
"A copper for your thoughts, brother?"
The voice that speaks these words is alarmingly close behind him. Touchstone whirls, with his knife in his hand and his heart pounding, to find an elderly and dishevelled man standing just inside the door to the room, only two or three paces away. A second glance suggests a little more, but he does not recognise the intruder. The man's face is wrinkled and blemished with the ravages of time and one hand rests upon a walking stick, but his upright stance and the tone of his voice seem to bely this superficial appearance. His garb is as tattered and filthy as any beggar's, but his composed expression and the light of sardonic amusement in his eyes speak another story.
"Who are you?" Touchstone demands. "And what are you doing in my..."
"Now, now," the man interrupts. "Is that any way to welcome a brother into your home?"
"A bro...?" Touchstone begins.
"Yes, a brother," the man repeats, as if lecturing a disappointingly slow child. "A fellow-traveller. A confederate. An associate, if you will. Dear, dear. I could have sworn that young Larchspur told me you were a promising lad..."
"Sorry for my slow response, comrade - if indeed that's what you are - but is not every day you get a message from a dead man!" Touchstone remembers his lessons and forces his body to appear to relax while still staying every bit on guard.
"I am afraid the poor fellow of who you speak passed away years ago," he continues. He shrugs, but a small hand movement concealed within the gesture quietly asks for identification.
"Oh dear. Must we dance this old dance still?" the stranger replies, but Touchstone's face remains blank.
"Pha, very well if you insist." The stranger throws up his hands in dismay, but still his foot gives the correct answer. "Must we talk in riddles now or just roll up a trouser leg and hit each other with pig bladders?" The strangers sarcasm is thick but his face still holds a faint smile like that of an indulgent teacher.
"Well," Touchstone allows his face to crack a smile. "It seems we are fellow travellers. Though what sort of medium are you, to talk with the dead?"
"Enough! I am not growing any younger. Here take this token so that you know who I come from."
With that he passes Touchstone a cheep looking ring. But Touchstone's sharp eye soon spots the worn but readable stamped on the inside of the ring. A mark of lower quality material to the uninitiated, but the apparently sloppy workmanship changes the symbol to one that Larchspur had shown him in his class one day, one that means 'trust' in these circumstances.
"Well, well perhaps I could offer you a refreshment?" offers Touchstone, holding out a glass of water.
"That would be nice," says the stranger. He takes the ring back and drops it into the proffered glass, completing the little ritual of lost contact.
Now Touchstone relaxes a little for real. Glad he had paid attention that day. "Now you know me," he says. "May I know a little of yourself and what brings you here?"
The man looks at him with a faint smile on his face.
"Don't you know who I am, boy? No? Shame. Nobody ever likes to bring me up in conversation, it seems. Well perhaps you know me by reputation, then. You see, it's my job to make sure that none of our our brethren... ah, stray from the path, so to speak. Oh, it's a vocation that I take very seriously," he adds, with a broader smile. "You can be sure of that. And one for which my particular gift is eminently well suited."
As he says this last, the stranger taps his unusually large nose. Suddenly Touchstone realises who this must be: an senior member of the Faculties who is known only as The Nose, and whose function it is to 'sniff out' corruption within the organisation. Touchstone has only really heard rumours of his existence, but only the kind that are spoken in a hushed whisper. Not someone that you want to get on the wrong side of...
"Well as Arkat found," he says. "All men bar him are fallible in the long run, so I should not grudge you your unenviable task. I could wax lyrical about my dedication to the cause, but I expect you just want a simple unambiguous pledge to judge me and my soul against"
Delving into his memory Touchstone recites the pledge he gave the day he joined the cause. Assuming that this Nose will sniff out if anything he says rings false by what ever means he has.
"Well, did that give you enough of an odour to fill your nostrils?"
The Nose smiles very broadly indeed. "That's more like it! Perhaps our dear old friend was right about you after all. Well, young Touchstone, here's my problem: my nose tells me to believe you when you say that you are a loyal servant, but something certainly smells rank here. Since the source of these malodorous machinations doesn't seem to be you, I can only conclude that you are an unwitting participant."
He pauses, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Which might help to explain why you acquired and subsequently evaded a little friend this morning - nice work there, by the way. I am still curious to know why you visited Portside before reporting to your Ear, but perhaps that is something that we can discuss some other time. For now, though..."
He fixes Touchstone with an unblinking stare, which makes him feel uncomfortably naked.
"For now I must bid you good day. Count yourself lucky that you remain one of my flowers and take care to avoid the taint or corruption that seems to be lurking in your wake. Oh, and give my regards to our old friend when you see him next - and tell him to be careful. Nothing escapes my notice in this city, and he really does not want to have me for an enemy."
With that veiled threat hanging in the air between them, the old man turns and leaves Touchstone alone with his thoughts.
