Antoine and Etienne Go to Lauvitel

1200, Spring

Still, when the snows on the lowers slopes began to melt, they were both ready to move on. Hubert arrived with fresh supplies and they quickly made ready to move. The mere fact that they were preparing to move relieved some of the tension.

"Etienne," said Antoine. "I travel now to the village of Lauvitel. There are strange things there, I hear, but there are also those who area ready to receive the word of God."

Etienne nodded with a smile at Antoine's fierce grip on optimism. The time in the cave had worn on Etienne for he had never spent so much time in one place before, and the opportunity for a change of scenery excited him. "I look forward to the next step in our journey," he said revealing his joy.

"Good, then let us be off!" The monk was still fat, even after a winter on short rations, and his slow pace frustrated Etienne, but the former bandit quickly learned that Antoine had a good knowledge of the alpine geography, and of pathes and passes used only by the peasants and herdsmen. "We travel first to Grenoble," said Antoine. "I have friends there."

"Lead on," answered Etienne. The man of ill repute tugged the cloak Hubert had given him tighter, it had been years since he wore the rough fabric of a peasant out of necessity. In fact, it had been even longer since he was unarmed! Well almost unarmed, as the dagger hidden in his boot reminded him of a previous life.

"I do hope they are friendly, it will be good to see people and buildings again."

"Agreed," said Antoine.

For several days they worked their way northward and downward toward the Drac river, which fed down to Grenoble. Those were cold and slow days. Soon, though, they were down into the valley and Etienne was surprised to see that Antoine seemed to know everyone, or at least to have a friend in common with everyone, they met.

Soon enough, Antoine was mounted again on a borrowed mule as a peasant brought his goods to the town of Saint-Bonnet. Etienne had never been down this particular stretch of the alps, but was familiar with the design; the church was central and surrounded by the houses and shops which seemed to huddle around it for shelter. Antoine dismounted from the mule well outside the village and hailed a nearby peasant, asking for the holding of Francois son of Xavier. The peasant told them and soon they were sitting in a relatively warm hut while Francois' wife, Francoise, was making dinner for her husband who was out driving the pigs in the wood.

Antoine and Francoise gossiped cheerfully about everyone and everything in the region, and Etienne soon knew more about births, deaths and adulteries around Saint-Bonnet than he ever cared to. When, Francois returned, he did not join in the gossip, being a taciturn man, but he did seem genuinely pleased to see Antoine.

A few neighbors showed up as night began to fall, bringing with them bits of food and soon there were nearly twenty visitors spilled out around the hut sharing in the meal. After all had eaten their fill, Antoine's fill being rather impressive, Antoine began to speak. It was a bible story, such as Etienne had heard before, but slowly it became a sermon. At the end of the sermon, Antoine blessed a loaf and a jug, and the congregation, for such it was, partook of the Lord's Supper, then dispersed.

Etienne bade the townspeople a good night, awkward as it was him being a man not used to idle chatter. Then he set about cleaning up the area around the hut preparing for the night. "That was quite good," he complimented Brother Antoine in passing as the monk spoke with some people who hung back detailing their worries.

Seeing Francois carrying a bench away, Etienne gave him a hand. "Your kindness is admirable, thank you for your hospitality."

"He is a remarkable man," commented Etienne. "How did you come to know him?"

The next morning, they moved on. Etienne was beginning to notice a pattern in their travels; they would leave early in the morning, usually accompanied by their host of the night before and often with Antoine mounted on a mule or donkey. Somewhere during the day, and sometimes several times during the day, they would meet another peasant or two and travel with them for time, leaving their original companion behind. In this way, they covered less distance than they might have done had they remained on the main roads and paths, but they were rarely anyplace where they might be seen by any one who might be searching for them.

Several days of this brought them to the edge of Grenoble itself, where they rested for an hour or two outside the mighty city. As evening drew on, a wagon arrived and after a few quick words, Antoine boarded and gestured for Etienne to join him. Shortly thereafter, they were in the city itself. They disembarked at a house near a church, that Antoine indicated was that of St. Laurent. They hustled inside the house, where Etienne was surprised to find a sumptuous dinner laid out.

"Etienne," said Antoine, "May I introduce 'Amadeus' and 'Octavia?'" He indicated a couple who stood nearby with a proprietary air. "I regret the use of such obviously false names," he added apologetically, "but these 'amici' of our sect have much to lose should they become known. This is Brother Jacob, another of our sect." Jacob was a thin ascetic looking man, who nodded at the ex-bandit.

"Let us to table," said 'Amadeus.'

"With a will," replied Antoine.

Etienne quickly took in the room glancing about and proceeded to follow Antoine to the table. Once there he paused, unsure of which place to take and then proceeded to sit down after the others were seated. It was best to remain quiet, he surmised, as too much conversation often led to trouble and those such as 'Amadeus' and 'Octavia' who were taking such a great risk would be best served by the silence. Inwardly, Etienne hoped that they would stay a time in Grenoble. The sights and sounds of the city awakened an excitement within that he had not felt in months.

At dinner, it became plain that his hope to stay awhile was in vain; Antoine intended to leave the morning after next, and if Etienne was to accompany him, then he would leave then as well. The next day itself was to be spent in converse with the other Priest and Etienne gathered there would be some convocation or ceremony as well. If Antoine was true to form, there would be a huge meal following that, for one professed to poverty, the fat priest ate like the most gluttonous Lord imaginable.

Etienne itched for some time to indulge his own passions. Hopefully the upcoming feast would usher in an equally uproarous time of snoring, and that would give him the opportunity to slip out into the Grenoble nightlife. It would be late, however that was when the taverns he sought would begin their evenings.

With that thought in mind, he sought his bed.

The next day was dull for a man of action. Antoine and Brother Jacob spent much of the day discussing theology and the politics of their movement, which Etienne realized was banned by the Pope himself! His friend Antoine was Excommunicate!

In the afternoon, Antoine invited him to attend the Mass that would be celebrated in the basement of the house. "Jacob will preach," said Antoine. "And I will have partake of the Sacrament."

"I will attend," assured Etienne. In a strange way, his admiration for Antoine had grown after finding out that he too was a fugitive. Granted, Etienne had run for all of his adult life but never from the Pope! There was much to the fat monk that he had not seen, for beneath his doughy exterior must lie a resolve as tough as iron. Briefly he entertained the idea of inviting Antoine out with him that evening, and then chuckled at the foolishness of it.

The congregation gathered and Jacob delivered a sermon. The sermon concerned the difficulty a rich man would have entering into the Kingdom of Heaven, with special emphasis on rich clerics. It struck a strangely responsive chord with Etienne. Then the wine and bread was blessed and administered, with Antoine receiving his in his turn.

The evening meal was less lavish than the night before, but that did not dissuade Antoine, who protested first that he should not eat so much, but then seemed unable to stop himself from gorging on whatever was to hand. Soon after, the household retired.

Etienne waited a few minutes for the nocturnal movements of the household to cease, and as they, presumably, retired he grabbed his cloak and silently slipped out into the night. Despite not having been in Grenoble in quite some time, he walked the streets with confidence listening and smelling for his destination. No matter the town, there was always a particular district that Etienne knew well.

Soon enough, he found what he was looking for, a dingy room off a back alley from which came occassional rough laughter. Dim light shone from a slit window and he could see the dangerous looking fellows inside drinking their beer.

A grin broke out across his face as Etienne strode forth. The raucous sounds spurred him on to the door where he pushed it open to enter.

There was a momentary pause as the room looked at the newcomer, then things returned to their normal babble. The room contained a few tables, none completely unoccupied, and a bench on one wall with some seats still open. A keg lay in a stand by a chair on which sat a large man with an axe across his lap and a few mugs resting face down on the floor by his feet. A man standing the near the keg offered a few coins and his mug to the seated man, who took them both, filled the latter from the keg and returned it and made the former dissappear into a pouch.

Etienne licked his lips at the thought of the amber liquid and lightly fingered the few coins remaining in his pouch as approached the man guarding the keg. He grunted appropriately, and upon receiving the mug made his way over to the bench to survey the crowd. Etienne was looking for a loud garrulous sort for he would not be surrounded by locals; they knowing him too well and travelers not well enough to avoid his tired tales.

He found a likely suspect and observed him for a few moments, then settled into a pleasant mode of simply listening to the conversations ebb and flow around him.

One caught his attention. The Bishop of Grenoble, it seems, had heard that heretics were in the city and had called on all good Catholics to report the whereabouts of those who were working to undermine Mother Church.

Etienne perked up, "You say the Bishop issued this decree?"

"Aye," he did. The speaker was just drunk enough to confide in a stranger. "They still have troubles with those Poor Men of Lyons, you know. Mostly in the countryside, but they're getting money from somewhere."

"Surely the heretics' coffers cannot match that of the Bishop!" exclaimed Etienne.

The man laughed, "No. But they sneak around the countryside and the peasants protect them." He sneered with the universal sense of superiority the urbanite feels over the rustic.

"It appears that prayers only go so far," offered Etienne evaulating the futility of the Bishop's search.

"Too damn right," laughed the man, and a few of the nearby eavesdroppers laughed too.

Etienne laughed along with the men and added, "The Bishop should realize, it takes a heretic to catch a heretic."

The man's laughter trailed off, "What do you mean?" He examined Etienne carefully, trying to decide if he was being mocked.

"One does not send a scholar to hunt wild pigs," Etienne explained before draining his mug. "A dirty job requires a man who is not afraid of the soil."

"You're pretty clever, aren't you?" said the man. "Just who the hell are you, anyway?"

As he began to answer, it struck Etienne just who he was, and was not. The surroundings drew out his old life like a tea leaf in boiling water. Strong drink and boastful tales had brought forth the man he had hoped was left behind in the mountains. It dawned on him that he was a heretic, Antoine had said so. Antoine! The beloved monk, in all his fattened glory was the wild pig that he had spoken about. A wash of chills ran up his spine, causing a quick shiver. "A-a stranger passing through," he stammered.

"A stranger, like those heretics we was warned about?" leered the man.

A small voice in Etienne's ear spoke, "Be strong. Be of good faith."

Etienne took solace from the quiet voice and took a deep breath, setting his mug on the table. With a cool stare he looked the man in the eye, "If you are making an accusation, then perhaps you would prefer to make it outside in a less veiled manner."

The man looked into Etienne's calm, penetrating gaze and blanched. "Heh," he offered. "Just joking stranger. Just a little joke. Let me buy you a drink." He hurried toward the keg.

Etienne softed at the man's apology "That rights all wrongs!" he barked to show that he held no grudge toward the man.

The man returned with the beer then took a seat quite a bit further away from Etienne than before. Conversation drifted off into different channels.

Etienne silently cursed himself at his behaviour. As he finished his beer, Etienne reflected inwardly upon his anger. On the one hand he was angry that he considered the rewards for assisting the Bishop in his search for the heretics; betraying Antoine soured his stomach. He set his beer down on the table and glanced over toward the man who was deep into another tale. Etienne shook his head, also upset with himself for letting the man escape before he could find out exactly what he knew about the Bishop's plan for capturing the heretics.

Etienne finished his beer without hearing anything else which caught his interest, and with a final mental kick of himself, he returned to his host's home.

The next day, Etienne and Antoine set off south following the course of the Drac, with the intent of turning east to follow the Romanche where the two joined. Eventually, the Veneon would join the Romanche and they would turn to follow that river. The Veneon would lead them to their eventual destination. As before they travelled slightly off the main paths, being handed from peasant to peasant.

The trip to the village of Venosc took, therefore, three days even though they covered only forty or so miles. Venosc was not a large village, it was little more than a marketplace for the surrounding farmers although it did boast a single inn. That night they stayed with a family which farmed hemp on the outskirts of the village and Antoine inquired about the Lac de Lauvitel and the village there. One of the older boys in the family volunteered to show them the way the next day.

The trip to Lauvitel took all morning, as there was little in the way of paths. The travellers followed the Veneon back downriver for a few hours then turned south into a little valley. Another few hours were needed to follow the rough track up toward the village. Ahead of them, they saw a steep rise, almost a cliff blocking the valley, their guide told them that atop that wall was the lake of Lauvitel. Soon they arrived at a few rude huts at the bottom of the wall, surrounded by a few fields. The boy waited until Antoine had dismounted, then took his leave, leaving the pair facing the collection of huts and watching the peasants as they worked their terraced fields.

They noted that although the huts were clearly the homes of poor folk, they seemed to be well-constructed, and from that observation they looked for a carpenter and found that one of the huts housed such a man, working at repairing a damaged cartwheel. He greeted them cordially enough and asked their business.

"I am Brother Antoine, and I come only to preach and to help you and your village in whatever wise I can," said Antoine. "This is Etienne." He waited for Etienne to speak.

Etienne looked around the village and wondered if this was it. This was where he had trusted Antoine to lead him? He sighed and realized the silence was punctuated by all eyes upon him. "Aye, my name is Etienne and I have accompanied Brother Antoine to assure his safety and begin a new life. Your village is...quaint."

"Aye, 'tis young yet, but a goodly place," said the carpenter, missing the irony. "The water is good, the fishing fine, the hunting adequate. We do better than many, here."

He looked at Etienne carefully, "Start a new life. Hmm. What do you do, Etienne? What kind of a life do you want here?"

"What I have done, I no longer wish to do," he replied cryptically. "If the fishing be fine, then that is the life I wish." Etienne rubbed his hands together eagerly, while he knew nothing about being a fisherman he decided enthusiasm would best suit him now. Besides, it could not be that hard if these people excelled at it.

"Fishing." The carpenter looked Etienne up and down. "Fishers, we have. A blacksmith, that we need. Fisherman. You'll need a boat, then. Have you one?"

When Etienne shook his head, the man simply nodded. "The fishers are above, yonder." He pointed up the cliff wall, "they fish the lake." He turned back to Antoine, "Brother you are welcome here. As is your friend," he added grudginly. "You both may spend the night in my home if you wish."

Etienne nodded at the man and glanced over to Brother Antoine with a 'are you well?' look. He had hoped to go visit with the fishers, maybe one of them could use another pair of hands. In times past he would have scoffed at the thought of working for a living, and chided himself for not learning a marketable trade.

Antoine nodded, "Seek the fishers my son." He looked at the narrow switchbacks leading up, "I fear the path is too steep for me. I shall talk with our friend here."

Etienne made his way up the switchbacks and took in a view of the lake and the few hovels to the west. A single rowboat sailed on the lake, and on the far side of it was a rock jutting above the water. On the slopes beside and behind the valley he could see a few small herds of goats. From here, his view down the valley was impressive and he could see Antoine and the carpenter talking as the carpenter worked, as well as other peasants at work in the terraced fields which were set into the valley walls below.

Gazing across the lake, Etienne squinted at the rock which broke the water and set off toward the lake edge hoping to speak with the man in the rowboat when he came ashore.

He found himself by the cluster of three homes which sat by the waterside. Each had a small garden, often with a few chickens scratching nearby. At Etienne's approach a young child scampered into a hut and a few moments later, a woman came out of the hut to watch him arrive.

Not wanting to appear threatening, Etienne affixed a smile to his face and waved, "Greetings" he bade the woman.

"Good afternoon, stranger," she said, and watched him closely. Strangers were appparently few and far between in this village.

"I have just arrived here at," Etienne paused trying to recall the name of the village, "Lauvitel, and I had hoped to speak to someone about the fishing trade." He glanced off toward the lake, and pointed in the direction of the rowboat. "Do you know with whom I may talk?"

"The men are there," she nodded at the boat. "And they will be fishing for another hour or so. You may rest in the shade, there." She pointed to a tree. "If you thirst, a bucket and ladle are there." She pointed to the end of a short pier.

Etienne had a drink of the lake water, and then settled down to await the return of the fishermen. He watched as they cast long lines into lake and drew them back again. The time passed slowly, although it was pleasant enough spot.

Motion off to one side caught his attention, coming up the path from the lower village was a man who was clearly as out of place here as Etienne himself. He wore a woolen cloak, which combined with the effort of the climb had made him sweat even in the cool Spring air. As he appraoched, Etienne noted that he was lame in his left leg which must have made his progress up the hill difficult. Despite that he had a cheerful deameanor, and as he drew closer Etienne saw that a sharp Roman nose lent character to a face framed with black hair. His professional eye noted the thin silver bead the man wore on a thong around his neck and the lack of any visible weapon.

"Good afternoon," the man called in heavily accented French - it sounded to Etienne like the accent was from the North somewhere, Brittany perhaps. "My name is Osprey, Brother Antoine said I'd find you here. May I join you?" Without waiting for an answer the man moved closer and sat down.

Apparently that was all he felt he needed to do for the moment and he waited with Etienne and watched the fishers who were beginning to turn for home.

Etienne began to rise and immediately flopped back to the ground when the strange man took a seat near him. The silence was peaceful, but it intrigued Etienne as well. "Etienne, " he blurted out. "My name is Etienne, you live here?" he awkwardly asked staring off across the lake.

"Yes, not here," he indicated the huts, "but here," he made a more general gesture. After a moment, he added, "You don't strike me as a fisherman."

"Right you are," he agreed, "yet I feel it is where my future lies". "Not getting caught is something I excel at, I hope that will benefit me when it comes to outthinking the fish."

The man who called himself Osprey laughed at that. "This is a good place for not being caught, I think." He turned to look at Etienne, "Brother Antoine vouches for you, and I have heard of him and his fellow Poor Men before." He turned back to watch the fishing boat coming in. "I think there is room for one more fisherman here, but there is room for others, too." Coming to a decision he rose, "Welcome to Lauvitel, Etienne." He turned and started to walk further up the valley.

Etienne sent the man on his way with a kind word and rose to his feet. Confidently he strode toward the water's edge and assisted the boat ashore.

The peasants were suprised at the help, but did not refuse it. After the boat was tied up and the short pier, they unloaded the days catch. Several women came from the huts to take the fish away as it was unloaded and Etienne saw them begin to clean them on the beach.

With that the three men climbed out of the boat to join Etienne on the pier. "Thankee," said one, in Italian accented French. "I am Paolo."

"Etienne," he nodded to the men collectively making eye contact. "I just arrived in Lauvitel and hope to settle here. Can you use a pair of strong arms and willing heart?" he asked expectantly.

The men looked one to the other, communing silently with their eyes for a moment. Above them, a hawk cried - an Osprey - and Etienne watched as it wheeled above the lake then landed on the upthrust rock spire, disappearing into some crevice or nook. Paolo nodded. "We have no objection," he said stressing the 'we' just slightly. "Come let us talk."

	*		*		*		*

And there was much to think about. As the days passed, Etienne realized there was something strange about this village. People came and went ... but whence and whither was hard to tell. He met Conrad, the son of the farmer Charles, who looked much like a soldier or bailiff and who visited his father and sister, but who didn't live with them. He saw the hulking mute Xavier once from the boat, and was somewhat pleased he never met him. He also met the rabbity Lucien who brought the fishers some new fishhooks and took some smoked fish in exchange.

Each night he pondered these things as he slept in the workshop of the carpenter, whose mistrust of him was palpable. Antoine felt it, too, but would not speak much of it. Etienne noticed, though, that the priest was not so eager to move on as he often was.

The priest spent his days preaching to the peasants and talking to them, and Etienne was amazed anew at his easy manner with the peasants - laughing, joking and telling stories. The man's holieness was cofirmed in the eyes of the village when he laid hands and prayed over a sickly infant and the babe's fever broke instantly.

Then one night, the infant's cries returned. He awoke from a nightmare to find Antoine at his side. "What is it, my son?"

Etienne grabbed the friar with a steel grip and peered into his eyes with a cold stare. "The cries! They have returned," he said tinged with terror. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead as he came to wakefulness. With ease Etienne pushed Antoine aside and walked out of the workshop into the night air, clutching the blanket about him.

The night was cool, around him he heard the soft noises of livestock from the nearby huts and in the distance the cool trickle and splash of the waterfall from the lake above.

The relative silence outside brought some comfort to his wearied soul. He feared closing his eyes again, but the days of exertion brought the slumber to him regularly. It had been a while since the cries haunted him, foolishly he believed them gone but the were so real. Etienne turned to go back and saw Brother Antoine there with a look of concern on his face.

"I apologize Brother Antoine," he said sheepishly. "Whenever contentment visits me, it is there to remind me of my past. I believe I will never be free of it."

"All is forgiven, my son," said the man coming to join him, "once repented, confessed, and penance done. But, to be free of the past is another thing entirely." He shook his head.

"The night is fine," he said, changing the subject. "But there is much that is strange in this place, I doubt not you've noticed."

"Aye, I have spent many nights in the mountains and know several better than my own hand. That spire," Etienne indicated with a familiar point," it seems unnatural to me."

"Alas I have not seen it," said Antoine, who had not climbed to the lake and seen the spire. "But you have spoken of it, often."

"The peasants, to a man, believe that wizards live in the lake," he said. "They've seen them, spoken to them, seen their miracles, trade with them. This Conrad," he waved at the farm near them, "works for them, they say."

Etienne recoiled ever so slightly at the mention of wizards. Dismissively, Etienne replied "Tis the night air," as Brother Antoine noticed the reaction. "Then we must stay far away from Conrad."

"No," said Antoine slowly, "I do not think that is the case." Seeing Etienne's look, he continued, "The villagers wonder if they extend their lives at peril of their souls. And I, I do not know. This place does not have the taint of the unholy, but the lair of the wizards themselves ..." Resolve formed on his fleshy face, "Yes. Thank you, my son, speaking to you has clarified the situation. I must seek out these wizards and learn if they are tools of the Adversary."

Weighing the seriousness of the situation, Etienne spoke. "Are you sure that is wise? These wizards could be dangerous." This he spoke from experience, thoughts of the slaughter perpetrated by the mage who sent him fleeing for his life washed over him. If these magi were somehow associates, then everyone was in great peril. Brother Antoine was often more brave than smart, Etienne had surmised; yet that was often the case with faith which in turn caused him to reevaluate what he considered the smart course of action. The paradoxes with what he thought caused his head to ache, nevertheless Brother Antoine could not go alone in the the lion's den. "If you insist on doing this, then you should not go alone."

Antoine touched him gently on the shoulder and spoke some words in Latin. "Though I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear not, for the Lord is with me," he translated afterwards. "I must learn if the villagers' souls are in peril. But, I confess," he smiled, "I would be glad enough of your company.

"It is settled, then. When next he arrives, we shall speak to this Conrad, or Lucien, whichever shall appear first."

	*		*		*		*

When they awoke the next morning, Conrad was waiting for them. "Tonight, at the third hour, be at the top of the stream, above the lake. The Magi, or some of them at least, will meet with you."

Etienne mentally prepared all day for as many scenarios as he could imagine. Should they be forced to fight or flee, he expected little assistance from Brother Antoine. Not once, however, did he think of leaving Antoine behind to make his own escape. Etienne shook his head in disbelief as he thought about how much he had changed; not along ago there would have been no doubt how such an encounter like he imagined would end up. But now, he knew that he would remain by Antoine's side regardless of the outcome.

As the time neared, Etienne rifled through his meager possessions and withdrew the twin shortswords that had remained wrapped in the blanket packed away. The supple leather strap holding the twin fangs felt so comfortable as he belted them on. He reached for his cloak to hide them from view, and set off to find Brother Antoine.

It was several hours before dusk when they set out. Antoine was facing the fearsome climb up the cliffside, the one Etienne made twice daily on fishing days, for the first time. The fat priest struggled and did not complain, but progess was still very slow. They reached the top just as light was beginning to fade, and paused while Antoine looked at the lake for the first time. "A beautiful spot," he commented between gasps.

After a rest, they moved east toward the rendez-vous spot. There they settled in to wait for the wizards, or "magi" as Conrad had told them they preferred to be called.

A few hours later, Etienne looked across the lake and gasped. A boat swept silently towards them, driven by no oar and with no sail, pushed by a wind that seemed to surround it alone. In the rear was the man-mountain Xavier, and they saw as it drew nearer that the figure in the front was the man Osprey. As the boat drew close to the shore, the wind driving it faded away and it coasted to the beach. Antoine whispered, "The boat - it is made of stone!"

Etienne rubbed his eyes and still the stone boat remained. "I pray these are goodly men," he replied softly as they walked to the boat. The first meeting between Osprey and Etienne had been strange, but now it was magnified. A glance toward the giant suddenly made Etienne's swords seem inadequate.

"Brother Antoine," said Osprey, "we meet again. Etienne," he nodded to the former bandit. "I confess, I had hoped you would move on and leave us be. At first. Now, I am not sure. The villagers, I know they think us strange." He laughed, "as we are, I suppose. But you say they may think us evil, and that we are not. But what exactly we can do to prove this to you, I am unsure."

"I shall know," replied Antoine serenely.

"Yes, so you say. Well, if there was any doubt we are what the people say, this," he indicated the boat, "should dispel it. Will you come aboard?"

Cautiously Etienne followed Brother Antoine aboard, hoping that the magicks that caused it to float would extend to him as well. His time helping the fishermen had given him sealegs, yet this trip was a very different experience.

"Xavier, turn us around, please," said Osprey. The man-mountain obliged then re-entered the boat. Osprey raised his hands and spoke loudly in a langauge that neither Etienne nor Antoine recognized, then made a waving gesture forward. A wind sprang up behind the boat, pushing it toward the spire in the lake.

Although Etienne had been on the lake many times now, the fishing boat had never approached the spire closely. Now, he was sailing straight towards it. As they neared it, he could see that stairs had been cut or carved into the side of the 12 foot wide, 25 foot high spire. The boat bumped into the spire, near where the stairs hit the water line and Xavier steppped off and held the boat while the others disembarked. As Osprey stepped off, the wind faded as rapidly as it had appeared.

"Welcome," said Osprey somewhat formally, "to the Covenant of Lakehome."

Etienne nodded respectfully and whispered, "Never did I think I would get this close." He rubbed the cut stone with his hand, a place like this was magnificent, he thought. Its location highly defensible, and that wasn't taking into account what mysteries laid inside. If he had had a hideout like this, then tragedy might not have fallen so hard.

He assisted Brother Antoine onto a jagged step, and looked toward Osprey, "Most impressive."

"Our founder's work. He, too, is most impressive." Osprey limped his way up the the stairs, which spiraled around the outside of the rock before passing through an archway which led up another few steps before reaching a landing. Just inside there was a man that Antoine and Etienne had never seen, clad much as Conrad and Xavier were clad in hard leather hauberk, with a club leaning on the wall next to him. Osprey nodded as they passed. "This next flight of stairs is long, Brother Antoine. Xavier would you be willing to assist our guest?"

The giant named Xavier lumbered over to the side of Brother Antoine, causing the already tight quarters to become even more tight. With a surprisingly gentle hand Brother Antoine was guided along the stairway effortlessly.

With a start, Etienne realized that Osprey was floating a few inches off the ground as if it was the most naturaly thing in the world.

Etienne kept up the pace, periodically glancing back toward the armed man they saw upon their arrival. The man possessed some skill, that much was evident but to a trained eye he lacked the necessary seasoning that marked him as a worthy adversary. His armour would protect him well in a battle, yet the club was rudimentary and slow and would eventually cost him his life against a man who called war his profession. Nevertheless, many more like him and the spire's defenses would be well taken care of, especially against the village.

Osprey had picked up one of the two torches that burned in sconces at the top of the spire and floated effortless down the stairs in the lead. They descended for at least fifty feet, Etienne guessed passing a few openings off the stairs before Osprey floated to the ground, turned and led them into another such opening. After a short distance this passage opened up into what was clearly a kitchen. Light was provided by another torch and the fire in the hearth, which oddly did not seem to have a chimney although the room was free of smoke.

Osprey limped to a chair at one end of the large table and settled into it. "I'm sorry we can provide no better hospitality than this," he said. Apparently Lucien had been waiting nearby, for at the sound of guests, he came through another archway to join the group.

The youngster scurried over to an empty chair out of the way and looked on. Lucien was anxious over having the strangers within the Convenant, but Osprey knew what he was doing. The man known as Antoine appeared kind, but the man with him caused Lucien to shrink back and hope that he wasn't noticed.

Etienne had seen the fidgety Lucien before and felt a bit more comfortable with his presence, surely Osprey wouldn't unleash any magic with the young boy around. He couldn't let this cloud his judgment, and chose to remain standing as Brother Antoine spoke with the magi. Apparently the giant Xavier felt similarly as he stood against the wall near Osprey, not laying his weapon aside like the guard they had seen earlier.

Antoine looked around the kitchen, a mundane location in a fantastic place, and then looked back at Osprey. "I am here," he stated simply, "to see if you are a threat to the souls of the villagers. You do not seem to be servants of the evil one."

"Indeed not!" interrupted Osprey. "Among us, trafficing with demons and suchlike is an offense punishable by death."

"Even so," continued Antoine, "you may be misguided and leading these people into error."

"Like the Church was, before Waldens, yes?" asked Osprey.

"Yes," Antoine chuckled. "Much like that. I am surprised, though. You have these powers, they do not come of God, but neither do they come from below. I confess, I do not know what to make of them."

"They are ... other," said Osprey. "Or facets of God's purpose and power. The subject is one that many of our order debate endlessly."

"Your order?" Antoine jumped on the point.

"Let us not get ahead of things," said Osprey. "Yes, there are a number of us, both here and other where. Not many of us here, myself, our founder and a few others. We came here because of the solitude it provided, the villagers came after. We do not lead the villagers, not in any spiritual sense. We extend our protection over them and in return they provide us with some services which would otherwise be difficult or annoying to obtain." He held up a hand to forestall Antoine's next question, "Such as cooking our meals, and travelling to Venosc or Grenoble to fetch supplies. Conrad, who I think you have met, does much of that for us."

"A slave, bound by your magick?" blurted out Etienne.

Osprey turned to look at Etienne and waited for a long moment, examining the man carefully. "No. Conrad serves us without compulsion. I think he finds life better here than there. What did he have to look forward to, the son of peasant farmer? Is it so hard to understand?"

The former brigand softened at the mage's forthright answer. With a spirit of conviction he acquiesced, "Not at all. I have met others of your kind, and believed you all to be the same."

"Really?" said Osprey. "There are few enough of us that I am surprised. There is more to you than meets the eye."

Indeed and likewise, thought Etienne to himself realizing that he had probably said too much in his outburst. He nodded slightly to Osprey and looked to Antoine to continue.

Lucien sat quietly in the shadows and flinched when the newcomer spoke in an accusatory manner to Osprey. Never would the magi do such a thing as enslave a person for their bidding. He was proud of how Osprey had responded, and wondered if there really were magi who were bent with evil or if this man was speaking out of ignorance. Something to talk with Osprey about later, he noted.

Antoine nodded, "I am ... content. There is much that is strange here, but there is no evil. May we see more of this place, and meet the others?"

"The founder values his privacy, but perhaps some of the others. Lucius, carry the torch."

Lucien bounded up and hopped over to a torch, pulling it from the wall sconce. A gentle sigh escaped from his lips as Master Osprey misspoke his name; but he was a man of great power and many concerns.

"There is little enough else to see," said Osprey. "This area is where the servants stay," he pointed through the arch Lucius had entered from. "We have private quarters, which we share with our apprentices," he indicated Lucius. "There is a library, through here," he stopped at a door set into a wall. He produced a key and opened it. Beyond a torch burned, illuminating a room with several shelves carved out of the rock walls on which rested a number of books and scrolls. Several chairs and lecterns were in the room, and each had an unlit oil lamp on it. The walls seemed flecked with vaguely golden patterns and the guests recalled that many of the tunnel walls seemed to have a faint copper or gold colored patina.

Etienne looked at the walls, trying to ascertain whether they were genuine and what value the mountain might bring were it mined. He concluded that the color was just a trick of the light, but it was certainly not actual gold. He again fell into step behind the entourage and felt the young boy brush against him as he leapt past. The lad was small in stature, just a boy, but a chill ran up his spine when he speculated on the unearthly power which resided within. The man Xavier was obvious in his might, and Etienne respected that; but the boy was deceptive and that unnerved him.

The rest of the journey was through a maze of passages, some of which were marked at junctions with short Latin phrases carved into the rock and arrows. In general, they were poorly marked and unless one was familiar with the tunnels one would soon become lost.

Eventually, they came back out on the stairs and began to ascend, Xavier again helping Antoine. At the lakeside, Osprey again summoned a wind to bring the boat to the tower, for it had drfited away. They retraced their journey to the lake shore where Osprey and Xavier left them.

Etienne turned to watch the two sail back to the mountain and hoped that they were not using their tricks to listen. He whispered to Antoine from behind a convering hand, which rubbed his shaven chin. "One does not usually live in a fortress such as that unless he expects trouble. Do you trust them?"

"Trust them? Perhaps not, but, they are not evil," said Antoine. "Perhaps they are merely misled, and in danger of perdition," he added, eyes shining, "and their souls require ministration. Think of the missionary work to be done here!"

'Remarkable,' was all Etienne could think of gazing upon his friend. Antoine was such a prime example to him, "I see your point," replied the reformed bandit who could no longer doubt the life changing power of the risen Lord. "If I can change, then anyone can. In order to do so, we must remain close to them. It is our reason for being here, isn't it?" he asked.

"Perhaps," said Antoine. "I cannot stay for too long, there are others I must seek, and I do not wish to burden anyone with hospitality for too long, but I shall come here again and again."

"Oh?" he asked somewhat surprised. Etienne then realized that Antoine intended to continue his wandering ways. It came as a shock to the former bandit, but it shouldn't have; why did he expect Brother Antoine to settle down? Quickly he was learning that nothing about the friar should surprise him. "So you will be leaving?"

"I must, my son," said the monk. "But not for another few weeks. Phillippe will not grudge me hospitality for that long. But what of you, my son? Surely you do not with to sleep in Phillippe's shop much longer."

"No, that is true," he said rubbing his lower back. "But I have spent many nights without a place to call home, and while small this village does have its good points." Etienne sighed, "You need protection, my friend. Were I to have a castle here, I could not leave you to wander alone. Trust me, the roads are not safe."

"My son, the roads are safe enough for me," he said. "I have nothing and am therefore not worth robbing. The peasants feed me and shelter me. I am under God's protection. If you have found peace here, then stay."

"Peace," the word felt so strange coming out of his mouth. "Peace, yes. I have peace here, but I am not sure it is from the land or from here," he tapped his chest. "But remain here I shall. One must be here to shelter you on your next trip through," he joked. He added with a more serious tone, "And keep an eye on the wizards."

Antoine chuckled, and the pair turned toward their lodging.