If Sir Wallace Vandenberg had not been on top of the carriage next to his servant, but had instead been inside the vehicle with Anna, he might have begun to understand what was the matter with her. Once she was shut in the carriage, the curtains of which were drawn, a calm serenity came over her face, and she began to talk to herself. But as it was, he was next to the driver, and the sound of the wheels on the cobbles would be more than enough to drown out her frail wisp of a voice.

“It’s dark. It’s the little room again. That’s as you deserve, popkin. You weren’t good. You can’t hide like that and expect not to get punished. You were a bad girl. I was a bad girl. I’m sorry, I was a bad girl. I need to be punished. Please punish me. Please don’t leave me in here again. I’m sorry, popkin, it’s for your own good. It is for my own good. I’m sorry. No, please, no, no, don’t go, no, no, no, she went. She went and left me alone. It’s for my own good. I was a bad girl. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s cold. I’m scared. It’s dark and small. I’m hungry. I’m going to be left here. I’m going to have to stay. I won’t get out until I’m good. I deserve this. I was a bad girl. I was bad and I deserve to be punished. I want to be punished. I don’t want to be bad. I won’t do it again. I’m sorry. I’m scared.”

The whispered monologue continued in the same vein as the slow-moving carriage continued on, but about halfway back to the house, Anna began to focus on being hopeful. “My faith is weak. That’s all it is. I don’t love her enough. If I did, my faith would be strong. I’ll have faith. It’s all right. She’ll let me out. She will. She loves me. She won’t make me stay very long. I love her. Yes, I love her and she knows that. I’m hungry. She’ll bring some food soon. She won’t let me starve. How long has it been? Has it been very long? Last time the boy said I was in the Infirmary for two days. He lied. She would never leave me that long. I need to go to the washroom. She’ll let me go to the washroom. I won’t have to go here. She’ll come back soon. She loves me, she’ll not leave me long. Is that her? Yes, she’s coming! Why didn’t she get here yet? My faith is strong. I love her. She’ll come. That wasn’t her. If she had come she would have let me out. I know she would. I’ll have faith and patience and I’ll wait.”

After a while, however, the self-assurances lost their value, and she didn’t even believe herself. Who would believe a naughty little girl like her, anyway? There was no reason that what she said was true, it was only that she hoped it would be. Mrs Humperdink always knew best, and would know how long Anna should be punished. All the same, she began to beg to be let out, as she had so many times before. The carriage arrived at the Kendall house and Sir Vandenberg got off the top to check on Anna, he might have heard the soft pleading voice from inside. “Please, may I come out yet? I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good. I would like to come out. I love you. Please let me out. I won’t run away. I’ll come straight to you. I love you. Please, will you let me out? I’m scared. It’s dark. It’s very dark and I’m cold and I’m hungry. I want to come out. Please, I’m scared. Please don’t leave me here. I want to come out. I want to be with you. I love you. Please, may I come out?”

When Anna had been in stressful situations before involving men, she usually fainted when it became too much, as had happened in Sir Vandenberg’s drawing-room. However, the concussion, combined with her fear and panic, had thrown her into an imaginary world, remembered from the past, and she no longer saw Sir Vandenberg as the man that he was, but rather overwrote his features with ones infinitely more familiar and just as infinitely more threatening. When he opened the carriage door, she didn’t see it as a justice of the peace opening the door to his own vehicle, in which he had graciously driven a severely ill woman home. She saw it as the door of the little room opening. Light came in, only there was someone standing in the way. She couldn’t see the face but of course she knew who it was. It was only ever Mrs Humperdink, because only Mrs Humperdink cared enough to let her out.

And Anna followed through on her pleading promises, hoping that Mrs Humperdink would be satisfied with kisses and caresses and fervent avowals of love, and not need to hurt her more today. She came straight to Mrs Humperdink. If Sir Vandenberg was surprised at how much calmer she was, and at the caring and tender yet deeply fearful look she directed at him, he was sure to be even more surprised when she hugged him tightly. Anna buried her face in Mrs Humperdink’s chest, gently crooning the words that Mrs Humperdink needed to hear, alternating voice with tender kisses pressed to her bosom. “I love you. I love you so much. I’m sorry I was a bad girl. I didn’t mean it. You were right to punish me. I’m sorry I cried. I didn’t mean to. I love you. Thank you for letting me out. I won’t hide anymore. I know it was bad. I won’t do it. I love you so much. Please love me too?”

Wallace could’ve lied, saying that he had left her alone inside the wooden hold of the carriage because she’d most likely feel safer, that he didn’t want to disquiet her with his presence and all those high-minded and very noble intentions, but truth was that that wasn’t the entire truth. Truth was that she disquieted him just like he disquieted her. Not to the same extent, but he found that he didn’t want to be close to her for a while. A part of him found that she set his teeth on edge, because she didn’t listen, but another felt sorry for her…so sorry he had a hard time bearing it. For now, he was happy to be just away from her for a few minutes, the drive had given him an excuse to mount the driver’s seat and sit beside Tobias as they rode across the paved roads of Lindebo towards the house he knew their small and fragile protégé resided. They sat in silence on the bench, the one clicking and yelling at both horses and pedestrians and the other lost in silent pensiveness, the wheels and cogs of his mind clicking softly as worry made the normal internal interaction go slower. He needed to get her home as soon as possible of course, but he had to explain too, but not too long, otherwise it would seem like he was trying to get clean off the blame. Also he had to consider that the mental stability of his…guest wasn’t too strong, so he would need to do this with all the possible care…Problems kept popping up when he thought he had solved them. Only half an hour ago he had been extremely pleased at himself knowing that he had caught a fraud, apprehended one who tried to cheat the state and thereby cheat all who it represented. Maybe this was providence way of telling him he should not be so arrogant, by landing something in his lap that he knew not how to handle, that he could not be suitably prepared for and never settle satisfactory. No, he thought as he threw a look back at the carriage he rode. The only thing that could truly solve this enigma was to go back in what never returned. The only way to clear it up was to return against the stream of time, something impossible for the wheels of time only passed in one direction. He could not go back to the moment Justice…and thereby himself, had been needed…He could only be justice now…a bleak task without any hope of righting the wrong and saving…

Tobias saw the way his employer’s reveries were going and picked up the bottle he always kept on the bench for medicinal purposes. The brandy wasn’t of particularly great blend, but it could cure a cold winter’s night just as easily as a warm bath. He offered Wallace the bottle without a word, but the judge raised his hand. He couldn’t drink, he needed his wits about him…his only weapon and shield against her fear, his own reason…

They pulled up towards the street the Kendalls lived, slowing down as the horses responded to the unspoken commands of their guide. Wallace jumped down from the bench, his shoes making a soft clatter on the pavement in front of the carriage, as he heard a voice seep from within the wood. A soft, almost childlike voice without hope…He couldn’t make out what it said, muffled by the padding and the glass, but the sound alone was heart wrenching, like someone had put a lever beneath the centre of his cardio-vascular system and pulled it down sharply. A very long lever, using every inch of the board to the full effect described by Archimedes so long ago. He moved his hand closer to the carriage‘s door, overcome by a dreadful feeling, a mixture of precognition and horrid curiosity…

He slowly, carefully twisted the metallic knob, the interior mechanics having the bolt slide back into the door, making it possible to open it. He pulled it back, almost having to fight his arm as that feeling of a kind of unavoidable pain drew closer, there was a suspense in his every knot that once had been a muscle. From inside, from what now seemed to be the heart of deepest and vilest darkness rose a miasma of fear and hopelessness. Anna rose then, like a pale shade in that deep darkness, like an automaton. She moved towards him, slowly but deliberately and she had a calm about her that made him wonder what had happened to her. Her small and frail arms opened, as wide as her doe-like eyes stood and she wrapped them around him in a kind of fierce embrace. Her eyes spoke of two conflicting emotions, of a kind of love and care that seemed so natural to them, but drowned and dominated was that softness by an ocean of fear, real calculated fear that had deeply ingrained itself in those eyes and the soul they mirrored. Her voice was frail and she spoke more against his chest in which she had buried her soft and gentle face…

“I love you. I love you so much. I’m sorry I was a bad girl. I didn’t mean it. You were right to punish me. I’m sorry I cried. I didn’t mean to. I love you. Thank you for letting me out. I won’t hide anymore. I know it was bad. I won’t do it. I love you so much. Please love me too?”

Wallace could feel himself freeze, his entire body tense, how could he have thought that before, as he opened the door his muscles had been akin to knots. No, these were knots, his muscles were just as locked as the fifty bronze binds that had held down Furor during the reign of Augustus. But Furor was unbound, in his chest it raged. He could feel how his jaw set into a hard line a line that stood perpendicular against the two lines a pair of tears drew along his weathered face. Another pair soon followed as his tensed body kept a sob inside him, locked within that petrified husk of a man. He now had certainty…dreadful certainty…

Wallace moved a hand upwards very slowly, but with a force behind it that was almost insurmountable. His entire will had to bent upon that arm to move it, like it had been of steel. It wrapped around her, but nowhere touched her, encircled her like a wall of all the will the judge could lay to bear. The first two tears broke off his face, falling from the points of his chin downwards as he stood there, still wrapped in an embrace that was not fuelled by affection or love, but by fear and force. It wasn’t even directed at him, it was directed to someone in a past he had not been there to stop. A sigh filled with all that drifted from his lips, but he didn’t shiver, he stood immobile like the aegis itself.

”Anna…”

His voice had been no more than a broken whisper, like the sound that escaped a pair of broken bellows wheezing into a furnace. The sound of nothing that could be said. The judge had nothing to be said, there was nothing that had the strength to be said, but he had to speak. He was there for the weak, he was their aegis against injustice. He stood on the side of those who were innocent and free of guilt. From his own inadequate immobility did he wrest control and his voice returned to him. He then fought with the words that would not come, that would not find their way to his tongue and throat.

”Anna,” He paused again, stupefied at how soft his voice still was even now he had wrested it from the jaws of his own paralysation, he pressed on though, plodding along the words that lay like a crushing bound around his chest. As strong as bronze knots…”Don’t be afraid, come back…come away from this fearful place…” He laid a hand on her head softly and caressed that hair with a kind of slow strength that he knew not from where he mustered it, a kindness he had not thought his old and petrified limbs capable of. ”Come back and I’ll bring you to Charlotte, what you feel for her is love…not this…this isn’t love. You are safe here, I will not let anyone hurt you…” He sighed again and knelt stiffly, his limbs unruly still. His eyes now were aligned with hers, the iron in those eyes not steeled towards her, only reflecting her, looking straight into her so that she could see herself…”Awake Anna, the people who love you, truly love you need you here. Charlotte needs you here, Christopher does, let me bring you to them…Don‘t be afraid to cry…”

It was so strange, what Mrs Humperdink did. She put her arm around Anna. But she didn’t pull her close, which if Anna had expected this at all was what she would have thought the directress would do. She had actually expected to either be struck and told that Mrs Humperdink didn’t like doing this, but it was for Anna’s own good, and mind what she did in the future, or she had expected to be very gently removed from about Mrs Humperdink and put back in the little room so kindly that she almost wasn’t afraid and then left there. But instead, all she did was put the arm around Anna, not touching her, just holding her inside. Was it a cage, so she couldn’t run away and hide? Anna stood perfectly still, so as to not antagonise her and bring on the pain any faster. But nothing happened, and more nothing, and finally Anna began to think that nothing was going to happen.

Then Mrs Humperdink spoke and her voice was husky and deep. “Anna…” Anna tried to look even more loving. “Anna,” the directress tried again, but her voice still sounded sad. “Don’t be afraid, come back…come away from this fearful place…” She put her hand gently to Anna’s head, cradling it as though Anna were a baby, caressing the reddish-brown hair. Anna looked at her, puzzled and wary and not knowing what to make of this. It had been Mrs Humperdink that had put Anna in the fearful place to begin with. It was Anna’s punishment. Why would she say that now, that Anna should come away? Did she change her mind from before? Usually Mrs Humperdink thought that Anna was a little baby and ought to behave and not be so afraid of the little room, and said so. Why did she suddenly think that Anna should come away, and hold her so tenderly, without even a little reminder that Anna had been a bad girl?

“Come back and I’ll bring you to Charlotte, what you feel for her is love… not this… this isn’t love. You are safe here, I will not let anyone hurt you…” Anna ducked her head at once. Oh, Mrs Humperdink knew that she loved Charlotte, and more than she loved the directress! This was bad, how did she find out? Mrs Humperdink was going to hurt her for sure. It would be bad this time. She might be put in hospital. That was the thing that most upset Mrs Humperdink, even more than when Anna hid or didn’t want to do what the directress said. It was when Mrs Humperdink got hurt because Anna betrayed her love and loved someone else more, that was when Mrs Humperdink got most upset. The arm went away from around her, and the hand stopped cradling her head, and Anna braced for the pain that was sure to come any moment now. But nothing happened. No blow came, no screech, no angry, biting comments, no pain.

Anna remembered that the person had said she was safe, even after they knew that Anna loved Charlotte. She was just considering looking up to see if it wasn’t Mrs Humperdink there after all, since Mrs Humperdink would never say that, when a male voice said, “Awake, Anna, the people who love you, truly love you, need you here. Charlotte needs you here, Christopher does, let me bring you to them…Don‘t be afraid to cry…” What did he mean? She was awake. Charlotte needed her. Anna needed Charlotte. Christopher too. He was going to bring her to them. Wait, he? Anna looked up, and saw that a strange man was kneeling in front of her, tears on his face. How did he get there? Who was he? Did she know him? Where had Mrs Humperdink gone? He must have taken her away, like Charlotte did. Charlotte took her and saved her. Hadn’t something happened after that? It wouldn’t come to her, though, so she didn’t bother about it too much. He didn’t mind if she cried? Men minded that, Mrs Humperdink said. She replied to his strange message with questions. “You don’t mind if I cry? You know Charlotte and Christopher? Where are they?”

But he was on his knees, and he was crying, she could see. What had happened to him? How did he know her, how did she know him? She caught one of the tears that fell from his chin in her hand, feeling it splash on her palm. She closed her fingers over it, amazed that he was crying and wondering why. What happened to him? Did someone make him stay in a dark, small place too? Was he hungry? Did he need to go to the washroom but had to stay inside? She knelt in front of him, folding her hands in her lap as the tear dried into her palm. She started to cry too, because it was sad to see him cry when she didn’t even know who he was and couldn’t remember yet he obviously knew her and was going to bring her to Charlotte and Christopher. Who was he? She should know him, but she didn’t so all she could do was look at him with teary, unrecognizing eyes and ask, “Why are you crying, sir? Did she hurt you too? Are you the boy from the Infirmary?”

She showed no knowledge of Sir Vandenberg’s features at all, but at least now she wasn’t running from him in a panic or suffocating him with fearful tenderness, either.

Wallace was like a statue, like the last stage of the statue of the happy prince. His mortal gold had tarnished in years of service to the people and his eyes, once clear and devoid of both cynicism and grief had become those of a man who had seen too much. His body was now only made of steel and his heart heavy as lead. But though it could break, it would not bend nor melt in the fires of injustice. He sat there, immobile as the happy prince had been on the high column that held him raised above the city he had once led and like the statue, Wallace cried. His body did not move as he did so, nor did his voice quiver in sobs or hiccups, but from his empty eyes dribbled two trails of tears, like rivers of sadness bearing down, marching silently through the ravines and canyons of his face. Anna was like a pale ghost before him, but it was not she who haunted him, it was her past that haunted both of them. No, it weren’t her demons that had been loosened upon the judge, it was his own. His most mighty devil, the knowledge of failure. He had failed in his duty and he would pay the price like shackles on his consciousness. He was the justice of today, and he could not undo the deeds of before. He could only hope that tomorrow dawned brighter than the day before, and pray that by weeding the wicked, he could see a perfect garden one day…

Anna looked at him, surprised and without recognition dawning in those deep eyes, but at least there was no fear in them anymore, no fear nor that vile mixture of pain and forced love that turned his stomach in such profound manner that he wasn’t surprised to taste a tinge of bile on his tongue. Her voice was soft now, very very soft, like the whisper of the wind on a winter morning when the air was frozen and brittle. That sound she uttered from her lips was like fine crystal, just like she was. Wallace now knew how easy it would be to break her beyond human repair, how close she was to the edge. And yet how strong she was, paradoxal as that might sound. It made him feel inadequate, a need to protect her rise in his chest that surmounted the immobility of melancholy…

“You don’t mind if I cry? You know Charlotte and Christopher? Where are they?”


Wallace was rendered mute by that one sincere question she posed. Didn’t he mind if she cried? He did, that much was simple to see. His body was knotted like a piece of twisted iron-wire and his heart hammered in his chest so fiercely that he felt it throb inside every vein of his body. His eyes ran with water and though they could still see clearly, he knew he was crying. His jaw was set and his voice lost…but she asked if he didn’t mind…He did…No…He didn’t mind to see her cry, it was good that she cried. She shouldn’t keep it in on his account. Grief will fester just as bad as any infection, becoming a cancer none could get rid of. He could not force anyone to keep it locked in…He couldn’t mind to have her cry…But he did mind that she had a reason to cry. He hated that something made her cry…

”I don’t mind if you cry…I hate that there are reasons for you to…” He looked at her and continued. ”I know them and I will take you to them, they are very close…”

She didn’t appear to be listening anymore though, she appeared to be shocked by his own face. Or by what was passing across it, marching slowly to the points of his chin to descend to the ground at gravity’s beckon. She caught one of his salty tears with her small hand, enveloping it with her fragile fingers and Wallace was silenced as she kneeled before him, her eyes becoming humid too. She started to cry softly too, and again despair wormed into Wallace, like the glare of medusa that sight froze him in stupefaction.
Why are you crying, sir? Did she hurt you too? Are you the boy from the Infirmary?”

He was crying because he cared. He cared about justice and about those who it should be protecting. He cared about her and all those who he had not even met before. He cried because he had failed and because he couldn’t bear that. He cried because it was the one thing he could do, the one thing he was sworn to do…grieve.

”Nay, she did not hurt me, she hurt you.”

That was all he said as he rose stiffly from the ground and wiped away the tears that bore down his face still, forcing his eyes to clear since it caused her harm. He could not give her reason to cry, for he hated the reason that made her cry. He extended a hand to her, withered it was in his own eyes. Stripped of youth and illusion, but still firm enough to carry the task She had chosen him to carry. Still strong enough to shoulder the weight of another child of justice. Still wise enough to do what was needed…

”I’m not the boy from the infirmary, who I am doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I serve her who has sworn to protect you. I am Justice Vandenberg and I’ll take you home…Come to yourself Anna, so I can guide you to Charlotte…You‘ve been brave today…”

(OOC: Haven't made Chris' profile yet, so I'm still writing him from Charlotte's account, but I have av and sig for him now! W00t!)



Christopher had not yet noticed that Anna was not in the house. He had been working in the library and his wife had been reading. Now it appeared she had been doing other things as well, because she came in through one of the doors in the gallery, slamming it forcefully behind her. He looked up.
"Wh-?"
"Where is Anna?" she very nearly hissed. Christopher raised his eyebrows.
"Well, I imagine she’s in her room, or..."
"I already looked. She’s nowhere upstairs." His wife was flushed. Christopher sighed, a little annoyed, and looked back down to his work.
"Then perhaps she is downstairs, or in the garden, or in the greenhouse. Don’t worry yourself so. You give her too little credit."
"Credit?!" Charlotte barked back. "What in Heaven’s name is that supposed t-"
"We have talked about this before. You are too over-protective of her." He finished the letter he was writing, putting the date in the top right corner, and drew a new, blank paper from a stack by his side. When Charlotte spoke again her voice was ice cold.
"Yes, we have talked about this before, and there is no need for us to have the argument again, because it is bloody obvious that you have no idea what the hell it is you are talking about." He looked up again, startled. She noticed, and added in a calmer tone: "And I already looked downstairs."

He remembered now, the last time they had had this discussion. She had screamed at him.
"You do not know! You were not there!" she had screamed, and he had been painfully aware how right she was and wondered for about the millionth time what it was she never told him. She had told him now, and he could understand her to a certain degree, but that did not give her the right to be so rude about it.
"Goodness, calm yourself." He got to his feet. "There is no need for profanities. She must be here somewhere; she is probably hiding in the cushions of some armchair or other, reading." Walking over to his wife, he put an arm around her. "Come now, it is not as if she would go wandering off on her own," he said, not knowing that it was he, now, who was not giving Anna enough credit. "And no one is here to harm her; our servants would tell us if we had guests." Charlotte nodded, taking a deep breath. "We will find her," he assured her, and she nodded again.
"But... No one has seen her for hours..." Charlotte began, just as there was a knock on the door. The maid entered.
"It looks you have a visitor, sir," Martha chirped happily. "There is a carriage in the driveway."
"Thank you, Martha,"
"Something has happened," Charlotte said darkly. "I can feel it."

His wife was right. It was justice Vandenberg’s carriage in the driveway, and when Christopher came outside, he could see the judge himself, talking to none other than Anna.
"Come to yourself Anna, so I can guide you to Charlotte…You‘ve been brave today…”
"Anna?!"


When Christopher opened the front doors, Charlotte kept a few steps behind him. She did not usually meddle with his buisness associates, and if this was nothing, she would be ready to retreat. But she could feel it in her gut; this was not that kind of call. She knew she was right as soon as she saw the form of Sir Wallace Vandenberg. What on earth kind of buisness would the judge have to conduct here? An icy feeling ran up her spine as she thought about the horrible possibilities, but as soon as she heard her husband say Anna’s name, she shoved them all aside together with her husband and stormed forward.
"Anna?!" she repeated after Christopher, although in a slightly more hysterical tone of voice. Anna was sitting on the ground, which was why Charlotte had not noticed her right away. She threw herself down by her side and right away noticed a bloody tuft of hair sticking out on one side of Anna's head. "What happened?! Where have you been?" she turned to Sir Vandenberg and, fiercely as ever, practically snarled at the man. "What did you do to her?!"

"Now, now," Christopher’s heavy and soothing hand was on her head. "Let us hear what the good judge has to say before we go about accusing anyone of anything." He bent down. "Anna, sweetheart. Are you all right?"
"You can see very well that she is not!" Charlotte said, inspecting the wound in her sister's head without touching it. She kissed Anna's forehead passionately. "Little Anna of mine," she muttered, feeling her husband stroking the back of her own head comfortingly.
"What happened?" she could hear him inquiring of Sir Vandenberg. "Why is my sister-in-law with you, and why is she hurt?"

“Nay, she did not hurt me, she hurt you.”

Anna was struck by the strangeness of this answer. He was crying for her? Why would he cry for her? Anna cried all the time for other people. She was crying for this man right now, because he was crying. She cried for Charlotte when Charlotte was crying by herself and had no one to comfort her because she’d gone away to have privacy, and she cried for Christopher when he got sad because they hadn’t told him what happened to them, and she cried for her acquaintances when they lost relatives to the grim reaper. But the idea of people crying for her was novel. He was crying because she had been hurt. It made him sad and he cried from it. Wow. Charlotte never cried from that, even though Anna knew it made her sad sometimes that Anna had been hurt. Neither did Christopher. At least neither of them that she saw. But this man, who she didn’t even know, cried because he felt sad that she had been hurt.

A bubbly feeling started in her heart. He was sad because she had been hurt, and he cried for her because of it. It was moving, even if it was unusual. She smiled up at him, staying kneeling at his feet, as he began to answer her question. “I’m not the boy from the infirmary, who I am doesn’t matter.”
But it did. How did she know him? It was impolite of her to forget who he was when he knew her and—this was so amazing—cried for her. She almost asked again when he explained, “All that matters is that I serve her who has sworn to protect you.”
“Oh, you serve Charlotte!?” Anna burst out. Oh, then everything was all right. Charlotte sent him to watch out for her then. Charlotte was so good and so kind, she always looked out for Anna. This man must be a very nice fellow indeed, since Charlotte didn’t trust people easily. Especially not to watch over Anna. Of course, he must be someone like Christopher. Perhaps he was related to Christopher; Anna hadn’t met all of Christopher’s cousins and more distant relatives yet.
She was just going to stand, because even though she ought to kneel at his feet, the way she often knelt by Charlotte and Christopher, she thought maybe they could go and find Charlotte. But her knees wouldn’t support her, she found, because they were locked with dread from his next words: “I am Justice Vandenberg and I’ll take you home…”

Oh no. Justice Vandenberg!? How, how, why, no, couldn’t be, what, who, how, no, no, no. The name. Justice Vandenberg. She knew him. The ball. She had stolen his pendant. He would be mad. He was mad. Oh no. No. She gazed at him, her eyes wide, as he said, “Come to yourself Anna, so I can guide you to Charlotte…You‘ve been brave today…” Yes, she had, she’d gone to return the pendant all by herself. And look what she got for it. He was going to hang her now. Why did he bother to lie? Why? He wasn’t going to take her to Charlotte. Christopher would never see her again. He was going to take her to rest in the shade of the Tyburn tree. She’d be part of the pale forest before the day was over. She ought to get up and run, but she couldn’t move at all. It wasn’t possible. This wasn’t happening.

And then two voices called from the side, overlapping each other. “Anna?! Anna?!”

What? That was Charlotte’s voice. That was Christopher’s voice. Where were they? She looked, and they were running down the path to her. They were really there. Where was she? Oh. This was home. She was home and they were coming to her. She looked at Sir Vandenberg, dumbfounded. He had taken her home. He wasn’t lying. And then she realised that there were still tears on his face. Her palm clenched, and she felt the small remaining moistness from the drop she had caught. Sir Vandenberg had taken her home. He had cried for her. He had kept his promises. There was Charlotte now, throwing her arms about Anna, but all Anna could do was stare at Sir Vandenberg. How could he exist? It wasn’t possible for a man she had met once before to take such good care of her—and he had, she knew now, now that fear wasn’t clogging her mind—and to care about her enough to cry for her because Mrs Humperdink had hurt her.

“What happened?! Where have you been?” Charlotte’s voice broke through Anna’s thoughts.
“Oh…” Anna wanted to tell her, but she was still too surprised. Sir Vandenberg had kept his word. He hadn’t hurt her. He’d brought her home. He cried for her.
“What did you do to her?!” The accusation rang out, focused on Sir Vandenberg.
Anna’s heart clenched. No, Charlotte was mistaken here. She must say something. Her small voice said, “He let me out.”
No, that wasn’t enough to say. She needed to explain, and clutched at Charlotte. Christopher was behind her and said, “Now, now. Let us hear what the good judge has to say before we go about accusing anyone of anything. Anna, sweetheart. Are you all right?”
Yes! Yes, she was all right! She was better than all right! Sir Vandenberg hadn’t hurt her! He brought her back to Charlotte! She must say it now, but she was too happy; her heart was in her throat and it choked the words away.
“You can see very well that she is not!”
No, no, she was, she was! She had to say it, but she hugged Charlotte again, and over her shoulder she saw Sir Vandenberg, and he looked hurt that Charlotte accused him, and Anna couldn’t think of anything to say. They must like each other.
“Little Anna of mine.”
“Charlotte…” Anna breathed. Charlotte. Charlotte was here. Christopher was here. She was safe, even though Sir Vandenberg was here. Because Sir Vandenberg was safe too. He wouldn’t hurt her. He hadn’t hurt her. She whispered, “Charlotte, I have to tell you!”
Christopher didn’t hear, though, and questioned Sir Vandenberg, “What happened? Why is my sister-in-law with you, and why is she hurt?”

“I fainted!” Anna piped up happily, explaining for him. She felt that maybe she wasn’t striking the right tone, when everyone else seemed sad or mad, but it was impossible not to be happy. Charlotte was here. Everything was safe when Charlotte was here. She was home. Christopher was here. Christopher would help keep everyone calm. Sir Vandenberg was here. Sir Vandenberg had taken her home. He hadn’t done anything to her, he’d just been nice, and cried because he was sad that Anna got hurt, and take that, Humperdink! There were good men besides Christopher. This was the best day ever. She had a new friend. It was a good idea to go to the ball, because since then she found friends everywhere. First there was Nora at the ball, and now there was Sir Vandenberg. He would be her friend, because he was nice and he already liked her enough to cry for her.

“I fainted and I fell and hit my head! He took me home! Isn’t he nice? He gave me a blanket and he kept me safe from the doctor and he took me back to you! Look, see? This is my blanket that he gave me! He’s nice. I like him. He cried because she hurt me. Isn’t he nice?”

Anna still didn’t seem to recognize him for a while, but that wasn’t bad in all reality. Having her forget who he was made her forget that she feared him and thereby made the conversation more manageable. She even smiled at him now, not a wavering smile produced more out of necessity to than from a real genuine affection or enjoyment, but a warm little grin that made her face look younger, less drawn by the tortures and trials he now knew she had gone through. It had been one thing to look at that wavering look of fear when he had wondered why she looked that way, but now that he knew it was akin to torture, reminding him of how fragile the shield of his ideals was against the premeditated attempts of the wicked to smash through into the domain of demonic vileness. It told him of the powerlessness of power and responsibility and about the incapability of the blind woman he served to see it all, lest she judge too soon and it was better to let a guilty man run instead of putting an innocent one in prison.

“Oh, you serve Charlotte!?”

It brought a smile to his own lips, a very small and sad smile that helped him uncoil his knotted muscles and manipulate the bronze he had been bound with. In a way he had to admit he did, he served all the Charlotte’s in this world and all the Anna’s, he served all those who abode the law and thereby, he served the law. Her face changed though when he told her truthfully who he was and who he served. Justice Vandenberg, his name and his goal in one name, one title. A title that should only strike fear in the guilty, but safety in those who had done nothing wrong…those who needed her help and thereby needed him. That would’ve been in an ideal world though and this world was clearly not ideal. Anna was a testament of that, because she had never deserved anything that had happened to her and she still had gotten it. The fear on her face made him sick, not because he didn’t deserve it, though he did feel it was unwarranted, but because it was another sign that he was only human… A humanity that collided with his ideals…

“Anna?! Anna?!”

Two voices, male and female, both rather agitated, Wallace didn’t even have to look behind him to know who had cried out, but he did, glad to evade that fearful glance Anna gave him. The alternative however, wasn’t much better, not by a long shot. Mrs. Kendall threw herself at Anna’s side and like any mother hen with one chick, immediately saw what was wrong, her eyes focusing on the bloody mark that was evident in her sister’s hair. [I]“What happened?! Where have you been?”[/b] Wallace was about to answer, but then she turned to him, her eyes blazing with a fire darker than even night and a venom thrice that of the adder. She glared at him and her voice was filled with spurious allegation and mortal insult.

“What did you do to her?!”

Wallace didn’t answer, taking a hold of his tongue that he could practically feel sharpen itself on the whetstone of indignation and irritation. He was like a cauldron, boiling with feelings and his arms and back were untying themselves with ferocious force, all the tension, frustration and that feeling of vehement anger directed at those who had been guilty for his temporary protégé’s predicament all added themselves to the boiling poison, waiting, craving to spill over unto the person who challenged it. He didn’t speak, but his eyes took the same iron-hard cast, returning her venom with his own. How dare she? How dare she imply that he’d…He brought himself up short, reining in the wild horses in his head that were intent on trampling both reason and the painstaking work he had preformed today. Christopher spoke then, and he was the external voice of reason that Wallace needed at that time.

“Now, now. Let us hear what the good judge has to say before we go about accusing anyone of anything. Anna, sweetheart. Are you all right?”

They seemed momentarily distracted with Anna and Wallace sighed, trying to relieve some of that pent-up fear, anger and aggression that tried to worm their way from the cracks in his self-control. He felt a heavy need to vent, to lash out, but he restrained himself. They were right to mistrust, it was rather…strange…Yes, they were right, the fact they were so quick to charge and to attack him meant that they loved Anna. Love made fool of many men and women, but it was the right thing to do…

“What happened? Why is my sister-in-law with you, and why is she hurt?”

Wallace began feeling calmer, calm enough to reply at least, he levelled his gaze with Christopher, letting none of that rancour that had inhabited his previous look show, just calm and command were in is presence as he began gathering his wits and tell them what had happened. He had found that saying things without emotion always made them seem more…believable. He prepared his voice to let nothing pass, nothing of what he felt as suddenly the small piping voice of Anna chimed in, no longer that fearful little lilt, but a happy tone that reminded him of a small bird…

“I fainted!”

They all turned to her as she continued hurriedly. “I fainted and I fell and hit my head! He took me home! Isn’t he nice? He gave me a blanket and he kept me safe from the doctor and he took me back to you! Look, see? This is my blanket that he gave me! He’s nice. I like him. He cried because she hurt me. Isn’t he nice?”

He smiled, or that small wavering smile returned to his lips once more. It wasn’t because his feelings of spite and sorrow had disappeared, but it was good to see her smiling. All was once more, or close enough as they should be. The fact that she told that she liked him kind of lit a little fire in his heart. It wasn’t because it made him feel like a good man, or maybe just a little, but because it showed that at least some people appreciated when he tried his best. All would be well now, she was back home with the people she loved and maybe, just maybe she had learned that he wasn’t so bad…something that couldn’t be bad now could it? He was the face of justice in this town and if some few knew he was a good man, well that was good wasn’t it? It was often said that service was its own reward and that every good deed gave the bounty of satisfaction, but you know? People need a bit of confirmation, a little gratitude or a pat on the back. Anna probably didn’t know, but she had given him the closest thing to a medal of honour someone could ever give him. He bowed deeply, because that was all he could think of doing.

”The honour was all mine milady…”

It was all he could do, but as he rose he sent a challenging look at Charlotte, not because he was feeling pugnacious, but just to show her that she had jumped conclusions and that he’d like an apology. He filled in the little gaps of the story and spun a little lie from the air as he went along. ”Last week, at the ball, it seems the chain of my pendant snapped and somehow found its way into Miss Sutcliffe’s possession, probably during the dance we shared. She found out only after you had left and was so kind to return it to me in person…” He smiled at her for a short moment and continued. ”But I wasn’t present immediately and my porter asked her to wait in the drawing room, an oversight on my account since it’s on the south side of the house and therefore quite warm, I think that is why she fainted…My sincerest apologies…” He was lying of course and his little look at Charlotte conveyed that. It spoke volumes and the little change in tone at the last part of the sentence, very slight only added to that idea…

(OOC: Liz told me on msn what Anna would say and do.)

“I fainted!” Anna said, her voice sounding like she was trying to convey very good news indeed. Charlotte was not surprised by this information - Anna did tend to faint - but it did not explain where she had been or why she was now with Sir Vandenberg. “I fainted and I fell and hit my head! He took me home!" Home? From where? Where had she been? "Isn’t he nice? He gave me a blanket and he kept me safe from the doctor and he took me back to you!" A doctor. There had been a doctor? Well... Good! Someone should look at the wound, but Charlotte could not help but feel guilty that she had not been there to support her sister. She knew how frightened Anna was of doctors. "Look, see? This is my blanket that he gave me!" Charlotte smiled and acknowledged the blanket much as if it was a person she was being introduced to. "He’s nice. I like him." There was too much information to take in at once here. Charlotte’s questions had not been answered, and it confused her greatly that Anna was suddenly fond of Sir Vandenberg. It usually took her ages to like someone, and she trusted no other man than Christopher. Just like Charlotte herself did not trust a person simply because other people vouched for them - even when it was her little sister doing the vouching. "He cried because she hurt me," Anna continued, and Charlotte froze. What did he know? "Isn’t he nice?”
”The honour was all mine milady…” the judge said gallantly. Charlotte looked at him, and when he met her gaze there was a hardness in his eyes behind the mild front he put up for Anna. He was offended by her mistrust for him, that was clear. She did not care. Let him be offended. He had not earned her trust, not yet, and she certainly did not intend to give it away for free. This situation still seemed too conspicuous. She needed to know more about what had happened.

”Last week, at the ball, it seems the chain of my pendant snapped and somehow found its way into Miss Sutcliffe’s possession, probably during the dance we shared. She found out only after you had left and was so kind to return it to me in person…”
Alone?!
”But I wasn’t present immediately and my porter asked her to wait in the drawing room, an oversight on my account since it’s on the south side of the house and therefore quite warm, I think that is why she fainted…My sincerest apologies…” He was lying. There was no doubt about that. First of all, Anna would not faint from the heat. Would she? And second... There was just something about the way he talked that... It was wrong. He was lying. What a slick little... -

"- Oh, no, it was my fault! Anna began, and Charlotte wanted to throw up. "You don't need to apologise!" What had he done to her to make her act like this towards him? She sounded like she did when she had one of her flashbacks... Or like Charlotte herself when she was young. "I fainted because I was scared of you, it wasn't too hot!" Ahah! "But that's all right now, you know, because I'm not scared of you anymore."

Charlotte was very confused.

Anna turned to her and this next explanation was easier to make sense out of.
"I stole his pendant accidentally, at the ball, and then I knew I had it but I was afraid that he would hang all of us because I stole it. So I went just by myself so he would only hang me, but look! He didn't! Everything's going to be all right!" That sounded more like Anna. That explained why she had gone off on her own. She had been trying to protect Charlotte, protect Christopher. How it ached and stabbed in Charlotte’s chest when she thought about the fear Anna must have felt – and conquered – all by herself, without Charlotte there to help her! Poor Anna!

But what a victory for her! How great this was! And how... odd, that she should feel melancholy in the midst of it all. She smiled at Anna, unable to find the words to let her know how proud she was of her.

"I'm sorry for thinking you would hang me," her sister addressed Sir Vandenberg again. Christopher crouched down next to the two of them.
"You went to Sir Vandenberg’s house on your own? To return the pendant?" she nodded. He smiled. "Have you any idea how proud I am of you today, Anna?" Taking the blanket in one hand, and Anna’s hand in the other, he wanted to pull her from the ground, but Charlotte put a hand on his arm.
"Careful! Can you stand, Anna, darling?"
"Next time, however," Christopher said, ignoring Charlotte’s overprotective manners, but ceasing to pull Anna’s hand nonetheless. "Let us know first?" He was clearly taken aback by Anna's reaction as she jumped to her feet to embrace him in a tight and intense hug. He held her for a moment before she turned to Charlotte to give her a hug as well. "I can stand. I'm all right."

"All right. But, but, I thought it was better,you know, that you not know, because I was afraid, and, and, and... all right. I'll say next time. Except I won't steal his pendant again. Sorry."
"It's all right," Christopher said reassuringly. "I think we all know you stole nothing on purpose. You had your sister worried for a little bit is all."
"Yes," Charlotte said, stroking her sister lovingly. "But we're all fine now."

So he had taken care of her. He had called for a doctor, he had given her a blanket, he had taken her back home, and he had treated her so well that she actually liked and trusted him. Now, if that was all true, he had won Charlotte’s heart. She reached out a hand to him, smiling slightly.
"It seems I owe you an apology, Sir Vandenberg," she said, looking him straight in the eyes. Charlotte was not afraid of admitting when she had been in the wrong.
"It was not right for me to speak to you like I did. I am truely sorry. I hope you will accept my apology as well as my gratitude. Thank you for taking care of my sister."

Wallace wasn’t a perfect man and he was sorely aware of this, often he found himself to be petty or childish, but such was the way of men, though he certainly preferred it to leave him alone. Then again, if she had voiced her thought blatantly open upon her face, the insult would’ve been mortal. Maybe he had a right to bear a certain amount of vexation towards her, even though her concern was probably well-founded by previous encounters with others. Still, he found that in his heart he could not honestly forgive her yet…

Above Anna, who seemed to blatantly unaware of what was passing between both her protectors unspoken, smiled still. Wallace preferred it that way, this was between him and Charlotte, for now and it were best not to further aggravate the condition of whom they had both sworn to protect, one out of love for the person, the other for love of an ideal. He had lied to them and he knew she knew he knew. A confusing game, but his lies had not been told out of spite or despise, but because he didn’t want to shame Anna. He knew she feared him, or at least what he represented, so he didn’t want to make her think her fear was…well just…

"- Oh, no, it was my fault! You don't need to apologise!"

He knew that of course, but the fact that she said it made it sound so strange. Normally, if he had any idea of what her normal behaviour was at least, she would’ve silently nodded, agreeing with him so he wouldn’t be vexed, thanking him for his consideration. But this time, she told him he was wrong in a voice that didn’t seem in any way remorseful. It was strange…but the novelty of it was rather heart-warming after so much fears and tears…

Wallace looked down upon her with a kind smile, though he was completely confused now, it seemed that all his ideas about her personality and reactions had turned out wrong and the judge wondered why. He normally prided himself in his knowledge of men and women, though sometimes finding himself a tad too cynical. She turned to the old judge then, her saucer-like eyes no longer afraid or cowering as they looked upon him, something he found refreshing and relieving. Some men found fear a mark of power, but Wallace despised it. Finding fear in the eyes of another, especially fear of him meant that he wasn’t doing his job as righteous and justice-abiding man. Only the wicked should fear him and if there was any wickedness in Anna, he could not find it.

"I fainted because I was scared of you, it wasn't too hot! But that's all right now, you know, because I'm not scared of you anymore."

That spread a warmth through Wallace weathered bones, and not even the feeling of vexation could hope to hold against that, swept away by a mixture of fulfilment, happiness and a small, very small tinge of self-congratulation. She wasn’t scared of him anymore! How great a change was that…it almost brought a touch of tears back to his eyes but he quickly blinked to get them away. Against all of her fear and anxiety, she didn’t fear him any longer…There was a great reward in that thought.

"I stole his pendant accidentally, at the ball, and then I knew I had it but I was afraid that he would hang all of us because I stole it. So I went just by myself so he would only hang me, but look! He didn't! Everything's going to be all right!" She turned back to the judge. "I'm sorry for thinking you would hang me." Wallace was at a loss for a moment, just shook his head with a small kind smile. Kind as a shark grin could ever manage.

Her loved ones began congratulating her, something was completely in order as far as Wallace was concerned. She had been very very brave today, braver than he would ever be. It was a good thing to see that this girl that had seemed so scared before, be so strong. He watched the little family and could only smile, but then wonder if it wasn’t time for him to settle down. Naah, he’d never find a woman willing to marry him, besides it would be dishonest. He was already married to one woman, one too much handle already. His hand trailed the pendant in his pocket. He had missed it and now it was back. Sometimes his Lady worked in mysterious ways, but when he looked at these people all together, he thought her ways were just. They all deserved each other…Charlotte rose then, pulling him from his reveries as she held out a hand in a tentative fashion.

"It seems I owe you an apology, Sir Vandenberg. It was not right for me to speak to you like I did. I am truely sorry. I hope you will accept my apology as well as my gratitude. Thank you for taking care of my sister."

He smiled at her, finding that his vexation was gone. There were many feelings in men and women, and protectiveness sometimes turned against itself, he understood and found that he didn’t mind. He took her hand in his own and shook it calmly, his voice that calm and friendly tone he usually had.

”It’s of no moment ma’am, it was done out of love and we can only cover those mistakes with the mantel of love.” He smiled as he looked at Anna, standing now with Christopher now, but when he looked back at Charlotte, his eyes stood sad. He sighed. ”It was my duty and an honour, ma’am, but I wish I could do more.” She knew he knew now and he nodded once, pulling his smile back up and continuing. ”I don’t want to intrude upon you after such an ordeal, Miss Sutcliffe, I think it would be best for you to spend some time resting. Thank you for the compliments and I bid you goodbye…” He bowed to Anna and her family….

Sir Vandenberg had not quite understood why Anna had fainted before, but that was all right, because she told everyone how it had been. They must all understand how nice Sir Vandenberg was, so she also explained how she had stolen his pendant and how he had not hanged her for it. She could see that Charlotte understood now, because it was in her eyes and her smile. But then she realised that Sir Vandenberg might be angry with her for thinking that he would hang her, when he was really a good and just man, and so she apologised to him. He just smiled and shook his head. Anna was relieved that he was not angry. Christopher told her then that he was proud of her, and Anna took the statement and made the sentiment her own; she was proud now, too, because Christopher was proud of her. She jumped up off the ground to hug him, and then Charlotte too.

They were proud of her. She said something, promising not to do it again, and not to steal the pendant, and apologising, but she wasn’t really paying attention to what she said. Mainly, she was thinking that she had made Charlotte and Christopher proud, and got a new friend at the same time. There could be nothing happier, could there? And then Charlotte apologised to Sir Vandenberg and thanked him for taking care of Anna, and she realised there was: she had now made them both proud and got a new friend and they both liked her new friend. Sir Vandenberg accepted Charlotte’s apology, saying that she loved Anna so everything was all right. Anna nodded enthusiastically. That was God’s own truth; everything that Charlotte did was all right because she did it from love. Sir Vandenberg was a very wise man to know that.

Then he said he didn’t want to intrude and thanked them and said goodbye, and Anna hastened to assure him that everything was fine. “Oh, you aren’t intruding, Sir Vandenberg!”
She floated over to him on feet light as air, and took his much bigger and older hands in her own, pressing them as if he were a long-known and dear friend. “But if you have to go, I won’t keep you. You will come and visit me sometime, won’t you? Or can we visit you?”
He smiled, and it wasn’t scary at all, not like it had been before. Why had she ever thought he was a cannibal? “Most assuredly, Miss Sutcliffe. You’re welcome any time.”
Anna smiled at him in return, and looked over her shoulder as Christopher started to speak. He looked so happy, and Anna could almost see the joy and pride coming off him in waves. “You are welcome to come inside, Sir Vandenberg, but I understand if you are busy. I think it is lovely that you and Anna get along so well. I hope you will come and see us soon.”
Sir Vandenberg smiled again. “I will, certainly, thank you.”
Anna let go of his hands, since he had promised to come back. He nodded to her, and she curtseyed to him, and then he went to his carriage. Charlotte said to him, “Thank you again,” and he just nodded again and went on his way. His carriage pulled away from the curb as Charlotte and Christopher and Anna all raised hands in farewell.

Anna waved after him for as long as she could still see the carriage, which was not all that long because he had to turn a corner to go back to his own house. But still, it was enough time that he would know that she really did want him to come back, and wasn’t just saying it to be polite and get him to leave in a good mood. She turned back to Charlotte and Christopher to say, “Isn’t he nice?”
Charlotte smiled. “He is, darling. He’s very nice.”
Anna smiled back. Everything was perfect right now. “Yes, he is,” she nodded unnecessary agreement, just to show she was happy that Charlotte liked him too. But the next moment, she remembered that Charlotte had been concerned, so she said to both of them, “I’m sorry that I worried you, though. I didn’t mean it.”
Charlotte said, “As long as you promise never to do it again, sweetie.” She hugged Anna gently, massaging her back. Anna felt slightly guilty for not promising right away, but of course she couldn’t. She couldn’t promise to never protect Charlotte again, because that would be unthinkable. Of course she couldn’t do that. Charlotte didn’t seem to notice the hesitation, though, because she said, “I’m only happy you are close to all right.”
Anna pulled back from the hug, startled. “Close? But, but, I am all right!” Charlotte didn’t still suspect Sir Vandenberg of hurting her, did she?
“Your head.”
Oh, that was it. “Oh!” She put a hand to hair, where blood had seeped into it because she had not held the compress to her head, and said, “I forgot. It doesn’t hurt at all.” She felt foolish for having forgotten something which had caused quite a lot of upset so recently. She seemed to be having trouble remembering a lot of things just now. Maybe it had happened when she hit her head? Oh well. “It should probably be washed again. Will you help me? I can’t see it.”
Charlotte said at once, “Of course I will help you. We will fix that in no time.”

The three of them headed back into the house, chattering on together, and Anna was as proud as a button for the rest of the day.

(OOC: End thread. Links to next posts will be edited in.)

Wallace walked back to the carriage, not rushing, but not abnormally slow. His pace was measured to convey neither of the implications, not brisk enough to be considered fleeing, but not slow enough to be considered lingering. Truth was, Wallace wanted to get away, preferably as fast as possible too. It wasn’t that he disliked any of the people here, quite the opposite actually and that was exactly why he wanted to leave. He knew Christopher to be a great man and Charlotte would be the same, Anna was a good girl…no woman, she wasn’t as young as she sometimes seemed, but so scared by what those faceless hellhounds had done to her. It wrenched his spirit still, even though she had told him she wasn’t afraid of him anymore and would like him as a friend. He would do that, even if it broke his weathered heart, but not now. He needed to breathe, needed to vent. Needed to be free of the shattered world that he now knew lay behind her innocent and fragile visage. He jumped up besides Tobias on the driver’s seat. He didn’t want to be confined inside the carriage’s hold because the pungent odour of blood would hang there still. And if not to his nose it would cling to his mind. Also, he needed to talk with someone and Tobias was already a confidante in this matter. The man didn’t need any signal, just clacked his tongue softly and put the horses into motion by shaking the reins. The wheels began creakily turning and they were off. Too slow for Wallace’s feelings, but he restrained himself and even managed to muster a smile when he saw them all wave him goodbye, returning the gesture before disappearing around the bend and dropping the masquerade and sighing deeply. They drove for a while silence until Wallace spoke to his driver, not turning to face him.

”Whatever are we going to do?”

Tobias’ face didn’t change as he thought about the answer to that question, his eyes still on the road and his voice soft and even as he finally did respond.

”What would you want to do?”

Wallace didn’t really know, he was angry and sad at the same time, very angry and very sad. Two conflicting emotions that culminated into wanting to hit the person who had lain at the source, preferably with the visceral feeling of steel cutting through bone and muscle while his eyes streamed with tears. All kinds of visions popped into his mind and Wallace smiled a black grin of self-mockery.

”I’d like to ask Charlotte who did it to her, saddle a horse and challenge whoever did it to a duel and cut him to pieces.” He chuckled mirthlessly. ”I’d have made a lousy knight in shining armour coming this late, wouldn’t I?”

Tobias didn’t react to that, or at least not to the self-mockery that the judge insisted upon. Each man had a different way to deal with grief, some turned it outwards, some inwards. Wallace turned it against himself, grating it against the rock hard convictions he had sworn to carry. The driver smiled. ”I’d just have snuck up on him and cut open his belly before kicking him in the back. It’d be interesting to see him try and stick those slippery coils inside him back in again.”

Wallace nodded, he hadn’t thought about it, but that did seem more fitting. But it was murder though, he couldn’t do that and even if he could, he didn’t know who had done it and he wasn’t going to ask. This was his bussiness because of his job, not because of his feelings. He would have to use the standard channels to get at these people. He’d get at them and when her mercy laid down upon them they would learn to cross the law and her protectors. He sighed again.

”It isn’t going to work though…”

Tobias nodded soberly, they were both intelligent men, one learned by books and studies and one by the world. They knew that the world didn’t work this way and that heroes didn’t go out in armour to change the world for good. ”Well, then I’d probably want to go blow off some steam, either get a drink, get drunk and get into a fight if possible, or go to visit some pretty ladies…”

Wallace wasn’t a worldly man himself, but he knew of these things and blushed slightly as he heard his much younger driver speak so freely of them. He had known these things existed of course, many of his younger colleagues in university had occasionally visited these “women who washed their clothes”, but Wallace never had. He hadn’t felt the need to and still didn’t. He smiled a bit more though. ”That sounds like a good idea…”

”What, the ladies?”

”The first part.”

”Getting drunk?”

”No the extreme first part.”

Tobias raised his eyebrow.

”Getting a drink…”