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Realms: Taps Logs

Song of Hate

In time, Chanticleer and Roy enter the ambulance wagon. They both look rather tired, Chanti a little less so -- he still hasn't twigged to the rooster-spirit that's hitching a ride with him. The sidhe looks thoughtful -- very thoughtful -- but is quiet; it doesn't look like Roy's given him a tongue-lashing of any sort. Suraksha is curled up on the bunk next to Alg, blinking sleepily, "He's fine... false alarm." She has to cover a yawn before she adds, "Can we head back soon, your majesty? I could really use a meal, please?"

Roy looks around the ambulance and suddenly feels like he would very much like to be home. "Yeah. I think we'll head home right 'bout now. People are gonna need rest... ya'll head back and I'll 'rrange for this crap to be taken care of."

Suraksha glances around, adding curiously, "Where did the nurse go? Oh," she laughs softly, "is she chatting up Ohkwa?"

The nurse is indeed chatting with Ohkwa, but she's standing close enough to see if there's anything wrong with the patients. Roy smirks and waves her over, "'Scuse me."

Suraksha adds curiously, "Majesty, did they ever find out what was in Droog's saddlebags?"

Roy smiles tightly, "There were a few things, none of them very savory."

Suraksha hmms. "The paraphernalia of a dark bokor, then?" She grins as she watches the nurse not immediately realizing the king wants to speak with her.

The nurse hurries over a heartbeat later, and Roy nods, "Amongst some other things. Gonna asks Froid Jacques to come go over some of it. Once he takes the big fella home, that is... hell, maybe he'll want the snake along." The king tips his head toward the ambulance, speaking to the nurse, "Make sure everyone is all good an' come on back to the palace."

Suraksha brightens hopefully, "He can ride with us if he wants to bring the snake along?"

Roy smirks, "Wanna talk with 'im alone first. Ya'll go on. I'll catch up." Suraksha nods and sighs softly, smiling faintly as she curls back up and waits for folks to get moving. Chanticleer arches a brow and then nods to Roy, a little surprised the king wants to speak to Froid Jacques privately.

The ambulance goes along to the palace and is met by Pierce, who fusses over them and gives Sulochana a suspicious look when she springs out of the vehicle with so much verve -- she's yawning and starving, but past that she's not hurting. He hustles them back into the infirmary to await Roy. 'Chana hugs Ohkwa and thanks him for being so patient, asks him to make sure Sabrina knows there'll likely be two new folks joining them, and then settles down for Pierce to check her over. She asks politely for a meal as well -- and she's very careful not to antagonize Gramma Marcie any further!

The king is perhaps half an hour behind them and is alone when he initially arrives, "Froid Jacques'll be along soon. They're gonna take the altar down and then some folks are gonna scrub Lafayette's warehouse floor. Sent a couple big ole boys downriver to let 'im know what's goin' on."

Chanticleer makes a quiet sound and nods. "I hope that all's well down there. If trouble starts to brew, it will come upriver pretty fast."

Roy smirks, settles down on the edge of an empty bed, and leans back on his elbows, "Yeah. An' me short-handed for it. You set on goin' with 'er?" Suraksha is drowsily curled up on a bed, one arm under her head and a wealth of shining dark hair flowing out over her pillow behind her. She chuckles softly, but doesn't interrupt... just continues quietly stroking the sleeping Alg. Ohkwa had carried him in so smoothly the goblin had barely stirred, and now Alg looks like a peculiarly large cat, where he is curled up into a fuzzy black ball. Roy shakes his head, "An' the damn goblin purrin' like a kitten." He gives a long-suffering sigh.

Suraksha laughs softly, her eyes sparkling as she murmurs, "And what's wrong with that? You purred too, although for a different reason, earlier last night!"

Roy's smirk turns into a laugh, "Well, ya got me there, lovely."

Chanticleer considers carefully as he glances to Suraksha. When Roy puts it that way, it's hard to relent, but... "Sir, if there's trouble downriver, you're going to need more than just a couple of good fighters. Take it from my experience: if the flags go up, one fighter -- no matter how good -- can't make that much of a difference compared to a dozen strong backs." It's a bit of a fib, he knows; he subscribes to the doctrine that one exemplary warrior is worth ten mediocre ones. But with the way humans fight their battles, there's a lot to be said for sheer weight of numbers.

Roy gives Chanti an assessing look, "Mmhmm. Well, that's one way o' lookin' at it. 'Nother way is that I owe both a' you a helluva lot."

Suraksha smiles faintly, just watching silently for a while... finally she murmurs, "What are you hinting towards, your majesty? You can just tell us, surely?" Chanticleer starts to shake his head, but pauses and looks first at Suraksha, then back to Roy.

Roy says, "I'm sayin' I ain't likely to say no to what yer askin'. But I ain't happy 'bout it. Parta me wants ta dock yer pay. That'd harm my karma, though."

Suraksha blinks in tired confusion at Roy, "Dock... whose pay, please?" She thinks a bit, then adds thoughtfully, "What would make you feel better about this?"

The king is still lounging, "Can't say I know of anything." He snorts, "Not like I ain't gettin' somethin' out of it, too. I meant Chanti, but I'll send 'im off with his full pay. Prob'ly a li'l bonus, too." He turns to the sidhe, "You din't hafta do what you did at the warehouse. Neither time. I ain't likely t'forget."

Suraksha smiles lazily, "Plus, it wasn't Chanticleer who asked you to release his contract with you -- it was I. It would be unfair to punish him for my actions, surely?"

Roy arches both brows, "You offerin' to be a whippin' girl for 'im?" There's humor in his voice, but his posture isn't quite as lazy as normal.

Suraksha quietly scans the king's chakras, wondering if she can figure out something that might cheer him up a bit. With calm amusement she murmurs, "I am no one's whipping anything, your majesty. But I do believe in justice, and what I said was true: it was not Chanti who asked for the release of contract, nor did he ask me to do so for him. I did it under my own recognizance, because I have someone in the caravan who, ahh, how to put this... sometimes has a very good idea of future events -- and she told me we would need Chanticleer in the near future." She is clearly far too tired, however... her reading on the king's chakras is blurry, and she rubs her forehead tiredly before she adds huskily, "Gramma, could I trouble you to see if they're bringing the food any time soon?"

Gramma Marcie gives Suraksha a slightly amused look, "I'll go and check, child." Roy grins at Sulochana, "Din't I already say I wa'n't gonna dock his pay?"

Chanticleer takes in a slow breath, considering. "Sir," he says quietly. "I don't think I'm as of use to you as it may seem. You have been a good employer, a very good one, and I have appreciated being able to take part in your largess and your generosity. But I do not think that in the long term we would get along, and so I would rather we parted amicably now, rather than in enmity later." He adds a touch wryly, "Or with my head in a noose, for that matter." Inwardly, though, he has already resolved it would never come down to that. He is not regicidal, but he is also not about to let himself get caught up in another courtly intrigue -- and certainly not human courtly intrigue! At least with sidhe courtly intrigue there's poetry to go along with the stilettos and poison and clandestine letters.

Suraksha murmurs, "Thanks, Gramma," then nods sleepily to Roy, "Yes... but you still seem peeved. I prefer leaving happy clients behind me, you know?"

Roy's smile grows wider into a grin, "You're right. We're both pretty strong-minded -- and I'd rather have allies than grudgin' partners." He pushes himself to his feet and brushes his hands together, "Alright. Ya'll can go on when Alg's better. Froid Jacques is comin' to have a look at Droog's accoutrements if you want to be in on that." One corner of his smile twitches, "Don't 'spect me t'be thrilled."

Suraksha blinks sleepily at Roy again; it's clear her internal editors are currently off the job, "Er... about my watching? What's wrong with that?"

Roy laughs, "Sorry. Sorry, no. You can watch whatever you wanna watch, lovely. I'm not gonna hold a grudge for Chanticleer an' Alg goin', but I might still pout." It's the most whimsical Chanticleer has seen him. Perhaps his filters are down as well.

Chanticleer nods soberly and says, "Thank you... King Roy." It is one of the first times he's called Roy by title. He feels it's warranted now; there's actually more than a little to admire in Roy, he finds. He makes a note to suggest to strong-backed, reliable soldiers for hire in this region that they may want to inquire at Baton Rouge -- especially if trouble is brewing downstream.

Suraksha thinks about that for a moment... then grins as she pushes herself tiredly upright, brushing her silky hair out of her face, "Well, now! This I simply must see -- do you dimple when you pout?" She giggles, unwittingly dimpling herself as well.

The self-styled king snorts, "Think I'll save that for later." He turns to Chanticleer, "You want your wages in gold or would you rather take it in some other form?"

Suraksha giggles again, then has to stifle another yawn. She brightens tiredly as Gramma Marcie returns with a tray, although she manages to not lunge hungrily at the food. She whispers quiet thanks to the glamoured sidhe as the tray is set before her, and does her best to eat slowly -- or at least more slowly than she'd really like to devour the food. She adds softly between bites, "I would like to see the houngan examine Droog's saddlebags, majesty, please?"

Chanticleer blinks. "Ah... let me think about that, Sir. Gold might not be a good thing to carry... plus there's something to be said for having a good stock of it in the city, just in case."

Roy nods and stretches until his back arches, lacing his hands together over his head and yawning, "True, dat. An' it'll earn interest if you put it in th' right hands. Now I'm gonna go wash up. I'll send somebody for you when he arrives."

Suraksha says, "Thank you." She waits until the king leaves, glances around to make sure no one else is in the room aside from the caravan-related folks -- then she swiftly devours the food on the tray! Once it has all swiftly vanished, she adds to the other two -- Marcie and Chanti, "I'm going to sleep a bit until the messenger arrives, all right? Wake me if you need me." She curls up and yawns, then smiles sleepily and adds, "Feeling better already. Thank you, Gramma, for the food."

Chanticleer smiles warmly, "Certainly, Lady. Sleep well."

Gramma eyes Sulochana and says, "You ought to have been sleeping anyway."

Suraksha beams at Chanti, then smiles at Marcie, "Yes'm. Did good for Chanti, though. King's all right with his leaving!" She laughs softly, her eyes fluttering closed... and she's soon asleep next to Alg.

It's a couple of hours before one of the young chambermaids comes to the infirmary and lets them know Jack-o-Ice is here; she seems distinctly nervous. Suraksha sits up, looking a bit groggy as she pushes her hair back again, "Uhmm... he's here? Excellent. What's the problem, please?" Chanticleer has been calmly meditating during this time, trying to better understand what precisely had happened, and to rebuild his strength. He still feels a little tired, but he comes fully awake when he finds out Jack-o-Ice is here.

The girl (and incidentally, Roy's chambermaids all seem to be rather pretty) blinks at 'Chana in surprise, "It's... it's Froid Jacques. He's... he's Froid Jacques." She doesn't seem to have another way to explain it, and seems puzzled they don't understand. "The king says to have you all come to his place."

Suraksha nods and smiles with sleepy sweetness at the maid, "That's all right, and thank you. Do I have a moment to at least wash my face and hands, and brush my hair?"

The girl nods, fidgeting a little and then belatedly asking, "Do you need help?"

Suraksha smiles again, "Don't worry, I'm fine. Thank you, though." She tidies up swiftly, waking herself up as she washes her face, then smooths down her clothing a bit and turns in a full circle for Gramma Marcie's approval. Once she's ready to go she looks down at Alg, frowning a bit. "I hate to leave him..."

Chanticleer makes a quiet sound. "He'll be fine, I think, Lady. We will return as soon as we have seen what Froid Jacques has to say." He smiles wanly, "I doubt the apothecary would let us wander much farther as it is."

Suraksha nods slowly, stroking Alg's fur one last time... then she sighs and nods again. She leans and whispers softly, "Sleep and heal, dear..." After that she straightens and smiles at Chanti, offering her hand, "Shall we?" Alg grunts, snorts, and makes a couple of other un-genteel noises in his sleep as he turns over, pulling a sheet over his head.

Chanticleer smiles to Suraksha, inclining his head as he offers his arm to her. "Yes, let's." His smile fades a bit. "I'm... very curious... as to what Froid Jacques found in the bokor's bags."

Suraksha giggles softly as she departs, glancing over her shoulder at the goblin. She's still smiling as they head out of the infirmary, following the maid, "Or rather, will find?" The maid is nervous all the way towards Roy's apartments, and partway there Sulochana murmurs softly to her, "Melinda, if you prefer, Chanticleer knows the way to the king's quarters?"

Melinda gives Sulochana a grateful look and says, "I do have other chores to attend to... thank you!" She curtseys quickly and scurries away out of sight.

Suraksha grins and waves discreetly. Once the maid has left, 'Chana glances up at Chanti and smiles, "Lead the way, dear!" Chanticleer smiles shyly and gratefully to Sulochana as he walks with her to King Roy.

When they arrive at Roy's quarters they find a pair of young men on guard duty who recognize Chanticleer and Sulochana, and don't even challenge them. The smaller of the two opens the door with a grin and ushers them through. Suraksha nods politely to the young men, then steps in and glances around with interest, wondering who all will be here. If the king isn't pacing, or sitting in a single-person chair, and there aren't a lot of people present, she'll quietly thank Chanticleer, then go stand or sit by Roy. She doesn't want him to feel at all like she's trying to take advantage of him, and technically she is still under hire as a Hetaera with him just now.

When the door opens, Roy glances over and Froid Jacques stands up from his seat. The rug in the middle of the room has been rolled back and a circle is chalked on the floor beneath it. There are candles and other things around the edge, and Froid Jacques is in the middle with the saddlebags. Suraksha is careful to stick to the outside edges of the room as she moves gracefully to stand next to the king. Chanticleer blinks at the arrangement, though he imagines it's appropriate; the circle must act as a boundary to prevent any sort of triggered effect from the bokor's belongings.

Roy is standing near the circle, but not inside it. He takes Sulochana's hand almost absently and kisses it. She smiles up at Roy from under her lashes, not quite leaning against him -- although she's close enough that he can easily put an arm about her should he so wish. The houngan's eyes follow her and then go back to Chanticleer, settling on the young man's left shoulder for a moment. He smiles and then says, "I am satisfied to see you both alive and relatively healthy."

Chanticleer fidgets a little at the steady look the houngan gives him, but quips, "As are we, actually. Thank you, Froid Jacques."

Suraksha grins as Froid Jacques glances at Chanti's left shoulder, but says nothing on that. Instead she nods politely to the voudon practitioner, murmuring, "Thank you, Froid Jacques. It is a pleasure to see you again also. Is your, ah... large companion here as well?"

Froid Jacques' smile is bright in his dark skin... and his teeth are normal human teeth, "And His Majesty apparently wants you to all stay that way. That's why there is a circle. I suggest you all stay on that side of it this time." Sulochana nods amusedly; she's been careful to do so. She sighs with a touch of regret, though; from the teeth she'd guess the python is not present. Froid Jacques laughs quietly, "He likes you. But no, he is at home in his room with several fat rabbits to keep him happy. You should come see him sometimes, girl." The houngan settles himself tailor-fashion in the circle and says, "I am a little unhappy, actually. I had not realized there was a dark bokor in the city with such venom in his soul."

Suraksha smiles and murmurs, "Perhaps I shall, if my caravan gives me time. Thank you for the invitation, Froid." She tilts her head, watching him curiously as she asks, "Can you detect each other, then?"

Roy smiles a little, "He's holy, cherie, not a radar." In this age radar is spoken of as almost a magical device -- a detector you aren't aware of when it's working.

The houngan shakes his head, "Damballa does not tell me who else there is in the city, but a good houngan knows who else is speaking with the gods."

Suraksha laughs softly, shaking her head, "Your pardon; I did not mean your lovely python, but rather fellow bokor."

The King adds, "Royalty ain't the only ones with spies." Chanticleer remains quiet and quite, quite intent on remaining on this side of the circle this time. He considers the words of Roy and Froid Jacques carefully, taking them deeply to heart. Suraksha nods and smiles silently at Roy's comments, then looks inquiringly at the houngan, waiting for him to begin.

Froid Jacques says, "So did I. I know who is dangerous in voudon in this city because I ask and because my people tell me. Someone that works without balance, who drinks only from the dark well, is a danger to everyone. Including herself."

Suraksha raises an interested eyebrow at the Froid, "'Herself'? There is one such, a woman, in the city now?"

Froid Jacques says, "Indeed. They call her a voodoo queen, but she is scarcely more than a table-rapper and an illusionist." He is starting to breath deeply and hum, holding his hands over the saddlebags.

Chanticleer says thoughtfully, "Droog came from downriver. Perhaps he hadn't been in Baton Rouge long... which would mean he's prepared this for some time, elsewhere."

Roy smirks at the houngan's comments, "Popular at parties, though." To Chanticleer the king says, "Which is why there's a half-dozen boys in that little scoutin' party I sent after Lafayette." Chanticleer nods to Roy, inwardly worrying more troops are needed for that scouting party.

Suraksha nods slowly, glancing a touch worriedly at Roy, then at Chanticleer. She murmurs softly, "I get the feeling you both like Lafayette. I hope he is all right, and indeed suffering from nothing worse than the gout." She is faintly relieved to hear of the so-called voodoo queen -- since just as she was finishing her query it hit her that the houngan might have meant her... especially if he's met or sensed Fantine!

Froid Jacques has started to open the saddlebags as Roy says, "I told 'em to be sorta clandestine 'bout it. Lafayette is a smuggler, after all. Cain't seem to be too awful worried 'bout 'im. Ain't sending my boys ta get whacked if I can help it, though." The houngan hisses, an angry and very serpentine sound. Chanticleer nods to Roy, then blinks at Jack-o-Frost's hiss. He perks up and frowns, leaning closer. Suraksha raises an eyebrow again, her attention sharply focused on Froid Jacques. It's reflexive: she's prepared to step protectively in front of her client if necessary.

The man has withdrawn something from the saddlebags and he's scowling at it, one lip raised in disgust. It looks inoffensive enough at first: a small leather bundle tied up with feathers, fur, and beads. But once one looks closer, one sees the beads are teeth and small bones. Suraksha sighs in quiet relief, relaxing a bit. It's disgusting, but not immediately dangerous.

Chanticleer takes in a sharp breath. "Are those... the bones...." He swallows and once again wishes for the relative simplicity of the sidhe court. Childlings were sometimes pawns in political maneuverings, but they were never... butchered. He shakes himself; he is not in the court anymore, and if he were he'd be shortly dead by one of those means he's looking back upon almost nostalgically. He's in the human world now, and he's facing human -- well, mortal, at any rate -- dangers... and that includes their magics and faiths.

Froid Jacques reaches into the knapsack at his side, taking out a leather pouch as he says, "If we're lucky, he got the bones from a child's grave. I do not think we are lucky." Suraksha frowns, putting her palms together before her forehead and murmuring a quiet prayer for the child's soul. Chanticleer's hands clench. Droog is dead, and that's for the best; but whomever taught Droog this... this abomination is out there still -- as are Droog's compatriots in Lafayette's camp. The houngan opens the pouch and slips the gris-gris inside it, "This working is very dark. It was meant to come here, but it was not put in place. These are meant to go under a pillow, give the dreamer crazy dreams -- drive them mad. I will unmake it." He slowly goes through the rest of the saddlebag's contents.

Suraksha says softly, "For... the king?" She glances at Roy, frowning, then back at the houngan, "The question becomes: who was he going to use to slip it into the palace?"

When he's done, Froid Jacques pronounces everything else mostly innocuous. There are candles, salt, a jar of graveyard dirt, a pot of some sort of salve that he sniffs thoughtfully. Roy says, "I was wonderin' that m'ownself."

Suraksha considers for a while, absently trailing her fingers lightly up and down Roy's arm -- she's not really aware she's doing it -- and Roy puts his arm around her without thinking about it either. Finally Sulochana looks at the houngan and asks softly, "If the -- the spirit of the girl they had was used to bind that curse... could the body be re-animated long enough to do that?" Chanticleer frowns; that would jibe with what he's been told a bokor can do: raise the dead as zuvembues, zombis, to do their bidding.

Froid Jacques says, "She is a maid. It is possible." He bounces the jar of salve in his hand, "This I recognize. The recipe is from an old woman deep in the swamps. She is mercenary, but not murderous."

Chanticleer asks quietly, "What does it do? Er, what is it for?"

Suraksha leans relaxedly against Roy, her expression worried, "What does it do, please?" then smiles as she echoes Chanti. She looks back at the houngan, adding thoughtfully to the king, "Roy, you might want to check your bedding for a while, before sleep?"

Froid Jacques says, "Sometimes it's called flying potion."

Roy says, "Lets a houngan... or a bokor... see past this world. My grandmere used to make hers with catmint an' beeswax an' some other nasty stuff."

Froid Jacques is standing, "Better yet, I will check it for you."

Suraksha smiles in relief at the houngan, "Thank you! I think it was fine as of last night, but I'd rather be sure." She muses for a moment, then nods, "So that ointment would have allowed him to spy quite effectively on R- his majesty. Interesting." She gives Roy a curious look, "What on earth did you do to him?!"

Chanticleer murmurs "To Droog? Or to Lafayette? Because I very much hope this wasn't with Lafayette's blessing."

Suraksha says firmly, "To Droog. Lafayette was not part of this, at least according to Droog's, ah... to Droog." She doesn't think it would be wise to mention seeing chakras just now.

Roy shakes his head, "Damned if I know." He squeezes Suraksha lightly, face troubled, "Probably best if ya'll get on out of town soon." He smiles and tries to imbue it with his normal roguishness, "Much as I hate the thought a' sleepin' alone in a possibly cursed bed."

Froid Jacques shakes his head, "Lafayette is not a bad man. He comes sometimes to my house." He leans over, sinuous as a snake, and smudges the circle before stepping out of it, "Stay here."

Chanticleer relaxes a little; that too jibes with what he knows of Lafayette, but... sometimes you can't be sure. Suraksha nods silently to the houngan, then glances worriedly up at Roy, "Why should we get out of town soon, please?"

Roy watches Froid Jacques go, then says, "'Cause if he's got other folks watchin', they know ya'll were helpin' out, back there. Don't need more worries. Ya'll get on th' road an' I'll rest better."

Suraksha eyes the objects still in the center of the now-broken circle. She doesn't think Froid Jacques would irresponsibly let something dangerous out... but she also suspects Droog -- or his "handler" -- was a careful man. Might there be something innocuous-seeming in Droog's bags -- at least until it was in the presence of the king? She murmurs absently, "Please don't worry, your majesty. We are, after all, capable of crossing the continent." She grins with wry amusement up at him, then goes back to studying the objects.

The gris-gris is tied up tight in the leather pouch, which is decorated with serpentine symbols and crosses. Roy smirks a little, "Yeah. I know." He pats her on the shoulder and takes a deep breath.

Suraksha grins lazily up at Roy, not shifting away from leaning against him unless he does first. She keeps half an eye on the circle's contents as she murmurs, "So... what troubles you, majesty?"

Roy shakes his head, "Just don't want ya'll more tangled up than y'already are."

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