February 1631

[Street Vendor]

Q: What should a sheep NEVER do when curate Lachapelle is around ?

A: Get its head stuck in a fence...

[Church Caretaker]

A Promotion...

First Voice: Ah, Curate. I've called you here to discuss your latest request for promotion to Abbé. I'm afraid that there are still some...difficulties...

Second Voice: Difficulties, Monsignor?

First Voice: Yes, regrettably so. Primarily concerned with these disgusting rumours regards...the company you prefer to keep.

Second Voice: But Monsignor! I've sold the sheepfold so as to remove any ammunition from the hands of my detractors and there is nothing in my observed behaviour which could possibly bring the Church into any disrepute!

First Voice: Even so, Curate, the damage has been done. Have you forgotten the reception your recent sermon received? It would reflect most badly upon myself if I were to promote someone who 'loves all God's creatures' rather more...vigorously...than the Blessed Saint Frances intended...

Second Voice: Is there _nothing_ I can do, Monsignor? There are few churchmen to whom some slur of...unnatural behaviour does not attach it itself, surely? Why, even the Right Reverend Monsignor...

First Voice: Is that an oblique reference to the rumours that I 'prefer the company of men' Curate? Well, perhaps a handsome fellow like you might think of some inducement which might encourage me to view the question of your promotion in a more favourable light...?

Second Voice: I see...Would the Right Reverend Monsignor object if I knelt on this exquisitely prepared sheepskin rug - Noire du Velay isn't it ? - when offering my...inducement...?

[Owl watching Paris night]

The Royal ball was inside the Palace, but outside of it, about a dozen guards and servants of the Savoy Embassy were talking beside the coaches, caring for the horses and watching the Royal Guards change turn to kill time while their Lords were inside.

Two of the Guards closed them before entering the mess.


-Hey men –said one of them to the Savoyans. – Paris January is cold, and we guess more so for you, being from a warmer climate. Why don’t you enter the mess with us? We can share some soup and wine. You can take turns if you must stand watch for the horses or your Lords’ needs.



The servants looked one another. Why not? They decided. After all. The Guardsman was right, Paris January is cold…


(...)

Some hours latter, the two Guardsmen were talking with their Captain.



-They don’t seem to know much useful, mon Capitaine –said one of them.- Just that their Duke is angry with the Austians, as they didn’t allow the Savoyans to accept it.



Well, not much, and I’m not sure how useful, but good job boys – answered the Captain.- By the way, Renné, I could arrange the week off duty you asked for. Enjoy it with your lady.



-Thanks, mon Capitaine -said the soldier



-And Marceau, the more I think about it, the most convinced I am the man I say two weeks ago in the Ball was not you. It was so like you as to be family, though… I’ll ask him if I ever see him again- the Captain continued, though quite convince he won’t…



-Yes, please, mon Capitaine. It would be good to know about a member of my family here in Paris- answer the guardsman, visibly relieved.

[Salty Sea Dog]

The Start of the Voyage...

First Voice: What you must understand, Abbé, is this.  I gave you a berth out of respect for the Bishop, but this is a working vessel and you're going to have to work your passage the same as anyone else.  Have you ever been to sea before ?

Second Voice: No Captain.  I do have some experience in bell ringing, however.  Perhaps I could take on the job of ringing out the time?  

First Voice:  That's only one of the jobs for the Master of the Watch.  I need an experienced seaman for the others.  Is there anything else you can do....?

Second Voice: Is it true that you carry livestock on board, to provide fresh meat ?

First Voice: Yes Abbé, it is.

Second Voice: Perhaps I could put myself to use there ?  I have considerable experience of handling livestock - and a keen desire to secure fresh meat...

[Church Caretaker]

At the Church of Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre...

First Voice: I must admit to being somewhat overwhelmed by this warm welcome, Verger.  The choir sang beautifully.  I understand that in standing in for Abbé Lachapelle I have some rather large boots to fill ?

Second Voice: The Abbé generally only wore those at night, Father.

First Voice: That first piece of music was enchanting! I don't believe I've ever heard it before...?

Second Voice: Neither had the congregation, Father.  The choir learned it especially to celebrate your arrival - and mark the departure of Abbé Lachapelle.

First Voice: In that case I'm doubly flattered!  What is the name of the piece?

Second Voice:  "Sheep May Safely Graze", Father...

[Map Lover]

An Audience at the Tuilleries....

First Voice: His Grace will see you now, My Lord. Please enter and I'll announce you...Marechal de Camp le Vicomte Roland Gorne and Madame Helen Bacque!

Second Voice: Thank you for seeing us, Your Grace. I trust that your visit to France has been a fruitful one?

Third Voice: It has not disappointed, My Lord. Thank you for asking. I'm told you have a message from my Aunt, Sister Agatha?

Second Voice: Indeed so, Your Grace. Allow me to present it...

Third Voice: Mmmm...My aunt requests free passage to the Abbey of of Staffarda for Madame Helen Bacque, Curate Adam de la Bassée and Monsieur Pierre Flump. Could you tell me the purpose of your visit, Madame ?

Fourth Voice: Certainly, Your Grace. Sister Agatha is most desirous that Major Jean-Paul Marsaud, who is being held at the Abbey, receive what comfort he may during what could be his last days on Earth. She has entrusted me to deliver fresh clothing, candles, soap, writing materials and some wines of his native Champagne to ease his incarceration. Curate de la Bassée has kindly agreed to chaperone me on the journey and perform the last rites for Major Marsaud should this prove necessary.

Third Voice: It is most kind of the Curate and yourself to undertake such an arduous journey on my Aunt's behalf, Madame.

Fourth Voice: It is the least I can do to repay the countless kindnesses I received at Sister Agatha's hands whilst I was a pupil at the convent, Your Grace. As for Curate de la Bassée, he has long desired to see the face of Our Lord on the Shroud of Turin.

Third Voice: And what of Monsieur Flump ?

Fourth Voice: Sister Agatha has commissioned Monsieur Flump, a well-respected painter, to produce a portrait Major Marsaud in case she never has the opportunity to meet him in the flesh. She tells me that Your Grace will be aware of the reason behind her request? His intention is to make some preliminary sketches necessary for the completion of the work.

Third Voice: Very well, Madame. I will grant free passage to the Abbey of of Staffarda as my Aunt requests, and offer the hospitality of my palace at Turin whilst Curate de la Bassée makes his pilgrimage. I'll also grant permission to travel with us under the protection of the Ducal party on our return to Turin. We leave Paris at dawn on the first day of February.

Fourth Voice: Thank you for your hospitality and understanding, Your Grace.

Second Voice: And, of course, for the honour of granting us an audience.

[Art Lover]

Coach Conversation...

1st Voice: Have you ever been to Italy before, Father Adam?

2nd Voice: No, my child, though I have often wished to. The churches there have such wondrous relics. Not least the Holy Shroud of Turin which I'm greatly looking forward to seeing.

1st Voice: And you, Pierre. Will this be your first visit ?

3rd Voice: Indeed so, Madame, and I'm greatly looking forward to it. Rome and the lands to the north constitute one of the two cradles of modern art - the other being my Flanders homeland, of course.

1st Voice: Please accept my commiserations upon the results of the recent horse race, by the way.

2nd Voice: Yes, I must be the unluckiest man alive, I swear ! Gilded Lady shows such promise and for her to lose to that knock-kneed nag Sassy Sea was inconceivable - until it actually happened.

1st Voice: I must admit to some surprise that you decided to enter world of horse racing in the first place, Pierre? It must be a huge financial commitment for a struggling artist...

2nd Voice: Indeed so, Madame. I went to the auctions purely out of interest and with no intention to buy whatsoever. But when I saw what a thing of beauty Gilded Lady was - her glossy mane, fine fetlocks and fancy tail - my impulsive nature got the better of me I fear. Nonetheless it is true that I'll find it difficult to find the means to keep her properly.

1st Voice: Perhaps I may be able to help, Pierre? My consort, Vicomte Roland Gorne, has a baronial estate at Milly-en-Gâtinai in the Isle de France, in addition to his Vicomté and a few small estates in Normandy. I'm sure I could persuade him to stable your racehorse there - in return for a seat in your owners box at any future race meetings.

2nd Voice: An excellent arrangement, Ma'am! I'll send instructions to my groom immediately, to the effect that Gilded Lady is to be placed into the care of your Gilles at his earliest convenience...

[Map Lover]

At the Savoy Border...

First Voice: What on earth do you think you are doing, Captain?

Second Voice: Standard procedure, Madame. All luggage must be thoroughly searched before being allowed to pass into Savoy.

First Voice: Do you not realise whose party this is ?

Second Voice: I realise perfectly Madame, the white cross of Savoy is difficult to mistake. I lost a brother at Pinerolo in December...

First Voice: Well, I'm sorry for your loss, Captain, I lost two cousins at the front in in December myself.

Second Voice: I'm sorry to hear that, Madame.

First Voice: That's Madame la Vicomtesse if you please Captain. Your name?

Second Voice: Captain Henri Bougere, Madame la Vicomtesse.

First Voice: Well, Captain Bougere, what you may not be aware of if is that the Duke of Savoy's wife, Princess Christine Marie, is also with the party having just visited her brother, His Majesty King Louis. Naturally she will be sending her brother the King a report of her journey. That report could make mention of a Captain Bougere who proved to be so surly and obstructive that he deserves a severe reprimand and the most unpleasant future posting imaginable. Or of a Captain Bougere who, after an initial misunderstanding proved to be so polite and considerate as to deserve an unstinting commendation. Which is it to be Captain...?

Second Voice: Sergeant! Have the men replace the luggage securely on the carriages and wave them through would you...?

(Later, in the Carriage of Princess Christine Marie...)

First Voice: It was indeed fortunate that you were on horseback when we arrived at the border, Madame Bacque.

Second Voice: It's good to get some fresh air after spending so much time in a carriage, Your Highness, and even the best company does tend to grate after a while.

First Voice: I wasn't aware that you were a Vicomtesse ?

Second Voice: I'm not, Your Highness, though I do have hopes of becoming one. I just find that lowly born officers like Captain Bougere tend to be far more helpful to members of the nobility, Ma'am. I hope you'll forgive the harmless deception?

First Voice: Oh, gladly Madame Bacque - my I call you Helen? You've been such help on the journey - not only with this officious captain, but with the Innkeepers and barge owners too - that I look forward to entertaining you at the Palace for a few days when we reach Turin by way of gratitude.

Second Voice: You are too kind, Highness. It's been my pleasure, truly.

First Voice: I shall be sorry to see you go, I confess. Such a joy to converse in mother tongue again. I believe a request has been made to provide you with an escort for your journey to Staffarda Abbey?

Second Voice: It has, Your Highness.

First Voice: I'll ensure that the request is granted, Helen. Really, it's the least I can do...

[Map Lover]

In the Audience Chamber of the Castello del Valentino, Turin...

First Voice: I trust that you found the journey tolerable and have enjoyed your short stay in Turin? Father Adam, what did you make of the holy shroud at the Duomo di San Giovanni Battista?

Second Voice: Truly wondrous, Your Grace! I feel truly blessed to have looked upon the face or Our Lord.

First Voice: And you, Monsieur Flump?

Third Voice: Well, I hope the good Father will not think me sacrilegious, but I much preferred the works in Your Grace's private collection. I feel blessed to have seen the 'Portrait of a Man' by Antonello da Messina.

First Voice: Ah yes. A gift from the Rinuccini family of Florence. An interesting character, Messire da Messina, by all accounts...

Third Voice: Indeed so, Your Grace. He was the first of the Italian artists to paint in oils. According to Vasari, after seeing a work of my countryman van Eyck (the inventor of the process) at Naples he travelled to Bruges where he charmed the old man with gifts until he shared the secret.

First Voice: And Italian art became the richer for it, I'm sure. And what of you, Madame Bacque? I trust you have also enjoyed your time with us?

Fourth Voice: Oh, indeed Your Grace. It has been fascinating to discuss your Good Lady's plans for improving the Castello del Valentino and the other Ducal palaces.

Fifth Voice: And it has been a pleasure discussing them with you in my native tongue, Helen. I hope that one day you may return to see the results of my deliberations?

Fourth Voice: I'd be honoured, Your Highness. Might I be so bold as to remind Your Grace of the escort requested by Sister Agatha for the remainder of our journey?

Fifth Voice: Ah, yes Vittorio! We must do all we can to ensure the safety of our guests.

First Voice: Of course. I'll give orders for six cavalrymen from my personal guard under the command of...

Fourth Voice: If I may interject, Your Grace. Might command of the escort be given to Subaltern Icaro Parrillo? I've developed a certain affection for the young man over the course of our trip from Paris - in the way one might for an over-eager puppy - and he would make a pleasant companion on our journey to the Abbey of Staffarda.

First Voice: Do you not feel that he might be a little young and impressionable for such a task, Madame Bacque?

Fourth Voice: His bravery and loyalty to Savoy is unquestionable, Your Grace, and I'm certain that his eagerness to please would ensure a comfortable and successful conclusion to our mission. Being given the responsibility for the escort could be the making of him, I feel...

First Voice: Very well, I'll issue orders accordingly, Madame. Is there anything else we could provide to make your journey more comfortable...?

[Shroud Observer]

The journey from Turin to the Abbazia di Staffarda was dragging, the miles seeming more like ten times a mile to the poor Subaltern. While considered an officer, he was in fact more used to spending his day in training and hard work than lounging at a walking pace.

To his left was the now snoring Curate, a strange thing to see a man of the cloth comfortable enough on horseback to ride let alone sleep. To his right the very VERY strange Parisian artist, who seemed so full of energy and had spent most of the journey exclaiming at each and every turn in the road at the "view seen by the Master's."

Behind him he could clearly hear the murmuring of the Escort over the clatter of the carriage with the Lady Bacque, his men chaffing at the slow speed of advance. The occupant may well be a most pleasing sight but to be restricted to this inhuman walking pace rather than the full gallop would break a lesser man.

As his mind drifted to the next day's Officer's inspection the ground beneath them changed from dirt to cobble. The Curate snapped awake, and seeing the party entering a town spoke loud enough to draw an audible groan from behind;

"My good subaltern! We appear to have come to a place where we may stop and lunch. I am most famished after our excursion in Turin, perhaps it is a good time to refresh ourselves."

"Curate we have not traveled as far or as quickly as I would have liked, we are only in Polonghera and have many miles more to the Abbey. Perhaps it would be best ..."

"My young sir, I understand the youthful exuberance and tendency to speed but some things must in their own time occur. I believe the stables and tavern ahead will be adequate to our needs."

A while later, as the Escort tend to their horses the young Subaltern finds himself alone with the Curate and Artist.

"If I may ask Subaltern, what exactly where your orders? Do not be shy man."

"My orders Curate were to escort you to the Abbazia di Staffarda and arrange for your party to visit Major Marsaud. From there I was to take you back to the French border so you may return home."

"Were you not also told to obey any reasonable request I may make, as would be fitting of a Child of God to one of His servants?"

The subaltern looked nervously at the door to the stables, out of fear of discovery or hope of interruption it is not known. "Yes Curate, those words are similar to what I was ordered to do."

"Very good. Then I must ask for your complete and utter confidence and silence in the matter I am laying before you, being specific and quite secret Orders from Duke Savoy for the release of Major Marsaud into my custody and to return us both to France forthwith."

The Subaltern sat backwards, bolt upright as he read the Orders. Give all aid possible, protect from bandits until on French soil, treat Major Marsaud as if he was a member of the Savoy Ducal family. And a complete and total oath of silence to the acts even if the Duke himself was to instruct exposure. To be sure there was nothing like this in his training to date, nay he thought nothing could prepare an officer for this!

"Very well Curate, I believe you have made your position clear. I will join my men and expedite our departure, I am sure you are most eager to arrive at the Abbey."

The Curate smiled, "There is no rush my fine fellow, the wine here is most agreeable and there are none of the pesky do gooders to create false reports to the Bishops! I am more than happy to indulge in a glass or two more before we depart!"

[Map Lover]

At the Abbey Guesthouse...

First Voice: So what now? The fact that Major Orsino Petruzziello and his men have been replaced by those officious Austrians changes everything.

Second Voice: Indeed. My hope was that we could take custody of Major Marsaud peacefully and return him safely to France. In the face of Colonel von Rattenburg's refusal to part with him, perhaps we should just deliver the comforts Sister Agatha entrusted to me, have Curate Adam hear his confession and administer the last rites, then leave immediately before von Ratt starts to wonder if three more French captives might be of use to his precious Emperor.

Third Voice: But Madame Helen! This Austrian pig's refusal to comply with His Grace's signed and sealed order is an insult to Savoy which cannot be left to stand!

Fourth Voice: And can we stand by and do nothing knowing that this Von Ratt intends to execute ALL his French captives at dawn tomorrow?

Second Voice: No Pierre, I suppose not. Very well. The Colonel has given permission for Curate Adam and myself to visit Major Marsaud in his cell an hour after sunset. If Subaltern Parrillo could assign us three of his men, perhaps we could overpower the guards and free him - together with those other poor French soldiers who face execution tomorrow? What we need is some kind of diversion to draw the attention of Colonel von Ratt and most of his men away from their prisoners...

Fourth Voice: What about the stables? It's at the other end of the Abbey complex from the cells where the prisoners are being held. Subaltern Parillo and I, together with the rest of his men, could open the stable doors and the horse stalls before firing the place. That should bring most of the Austrians running and, in the confusion, you could hopefullly whisk Major Marsaud and the other prisoners away safely.

Third Voice: An excellent plan, Monsieur! Freeing the horses and burning the tack would also delay any possible pursuit, and we could then double back and meet the rest of you on the Pinerolo road.

First Voice: Then we are agreed. Helen, please tell Billy and Gilles to hold the coach and horses in readiness for a speedy departure.

Second Voice: Of course, but we'll have to leave most of our belongings here in the Guest House to allay suspicion. Take only what you really need. I'm so sorry, gentlemen, to have put you into danger like this.

Fourth Voice: None of your doing, Helen, and just think of the tale we'll have to tell when we return to Paris!

First Voice: Well, Gentlemen. The hour approaches. Go with God and may He smile benignly on our endeavours...

[Art Lover]

A Coach Conversation...

First Voice: Where...where are we...?

Second Voice: Still on our way to the border, Pierre. Try to rest until we get there.

First Voice: Where is Major Marsaud?

Third Voice: I'm afraid he didn't make it, Pierre. The pistol ball Colonel Ratt fired at him as he was entering the coach did some internal damage I was unable to administer to. I'm surprised he was hit from such range. Such an unlucky shot...

First Voice: Those new rifled pistols are devilishly accurate, I hear... So, it was all for nothing...?

Second Voice: Not at all, Pierre! Some of the French soldiers we freed are certain to make it safely to the border and, without us, they would all have died at dawn. Your bravery has saved many other lives, despite Major Marsaud's unfortunate end.

Third Voice: And none of them would have escaped had not the stables fire drawn off so many of the Austrians. Subaltern Parrillo tells us that you would have got clean away had you not returned to free that last horse...

First Voice: Yes, stupid of me really, but I couldn't bear the thought of the poor beast burning to death. Did you manage to remove the ball that got me while I was unconscious...?

Third Voice: I'm afraid not. The carriage is too bumpy to risk it. But once we reach safety...

First Voice: I fear that may be too late for me, Helen. Have you the ink and paper you brought for Major Marsaud ?

Third Voice: Yes, but don't trouble yourself with them now. I'm sure there'll be time later. You must rest and conserve your strength.

First Voice: Humour me, Helen, I beg of you. I can't bear the thought of the Shylocks sending Gilded Lady to the glue factory if I die. I insist on selling her to you for a token sum and must write out a bill of sale while I have strength to do so.

Second Voice: Very well, Pierre. I'll be happy to write it out so you only need sign it and I'll gladly witness it thereafter. But as soon as it's done I insist that you rest again.

First Voice: I will Father. And while I'm resting perhaps you could hear my confession and administer the last rites, just in case...?

[Map Lover]

Back At The Frontier...



First Voice: Well Subaltern Parrillo, you and your men have conducted yourselves admirably. Thank you for bringing us safely back to the French Border.



Second Voice: It has been an honour, Father, though I'm devastated at not being able to save Monsieur Flump and Major Marsaud.Anyway, I hope that my poor actions can help ensure that France and Savoy enjoy cordial relations in the future. The machinations of the Austrian Emperor and the Duke of Milan pose a threat to both our nations, I think.

Third Voice: Indeed so, Subaltern. You and your men will now be returning to Turin I trust?

Second Voice: Yes Ma'am, without delay.

Third Voice: I wonder if you might see to it that this letter is delivered personally into the hands of His Grace the Duke ?

Second Voice: It will be my pleasure, Ma'am.

Third Voice: Thank you, Icaro, and for everything you've done for us. You led your men admirably at the Abbey and, thankfully, are bringing them all safely home again.

First Voice: Yes, God be praised. Such a shame that Marjor Marsaud and Monsieur Flump were not so fortunate, but at least they can now be buried in French soil. God's Speed to you all, Subaltern Parrillo!

Second Voice: And to you, ladies and gentlemen. God Save King Louis!

First Voice: And God Save Duke Vittorio Amedeo!

[Map Lover]

A Letter to the Duke...

Madame Helen Bacque to
His Grace Vittorio Amedeo, Duke of Savoy,
Greetings!

Your Grace,

So far as the world knows, thanks to the entreaties of myself, Monsieur Flump and Father Adam de la Bassée, Your Grace chose to be merciful and order the release of Major Jean-Paul Marsaud into our custody. (Your Aunt, Sister Agatha, will doubtless be pleased at the effort). It's unfortunate that Major Orsino Petruzziello (the commandant of the holding facility at Staffarda Abbey) had been replaced by Colonel Von Ratt, who refused to obey your order for the Major's release.

Subaltern Icaro Parrillo (the commander of the escort which you were kind enough to provide, and bearer of this letter) followed your orders diligently and with the utmost courtesy. I can also attest that he remained cool under fire and commanded his men most effectively. I cannot recommend him highly enough and entreat Your Grace to hold him in no way responsible for the recent events at Staffarda Abbey.

The less attractive alternative is to admit to the world that one of your officers was completely taken in by a forgery (although admittedly of superb quality) and aided and abetted myself, Monsieur Flump and Father Adam de la Bassée in forcibly releasing Major Jean-Paul Marsaud and the other French captives from the Austrians' clutches. Such a course would place Your Grace and the army of Savoy in a far less favourable light - and saddle me with a reputation for reckless criminality unlikely to help my marriage prospects.

Knowing Your Grace for the gentleman he is, I would hope the latter course might be avoided.

I apologise for the subterfuge and deeply regret its necessity. The fact is that Sister Agatha (a lady to whom I owe a debt which can never be repaid) was most distraught at the thought that Major Marsaud might be executed (intimating that such an outcome might also be personally distasteful to Your Grace) and that the Major is a personal friend of mine. (There is little I would not risk in attempting to save the life of friend). It is unfortunate that Major Marsaud did not survive the rescue but at least he died in battle, as a soldier should, rather than trussed up like a chicken before a firing squad.

Let me take this opportunity to thank Your Grace (and your good lady Princess Christine Marie, of course) for your hospitality both on the journey to Savoy and at your palace in Turin. I can't begin to tell you how much I enjoyed your company. I hope Your Grace will not consider it impertinent for me to declare that he and his good lady may henceforth consider themselves friends of

Madame Helen Bacque

[Map Lover]

Back At The Frontier...Part Two.

First Voice: Gilles, I have an urgent mission for you.

Second Voice: Yes, Madame?

First Voice: As soon as we are safely through the French border post I want you to ride like the wind for Paris. It could take a couple of days to explain the unfortunate ends of Major Marsaud and Monsieur Flump and arrange for their burial here. I want you to reach Paris long before news of their deaths.

Second Voice: As you wish, Madame. Might I ask to what purpose?

First Voice: I wish you to go immediately to the stables at my old house, now Monsieur Flump's residence, and remove the horse Gilded Lady to the stables of my new house instead. Monsieur Flump's groom should be expecting you. If he misguidedly refuses to release Gilded Lady to you I trust that you still have the keys to the yard and stables? Quietly removing horses from their stables at night is something of a speciality of yours, as I recall...

Second Voice: But now that Monsieur Flump is dead, Ma'am, shouldn't the horse go to his family ?

First Voice: Monsieur Flump had no family, Gilles - and he died owing me money. I don't wish to speak ill of the dead, but the blackguard claimed payment for six weeks work for the painting I commissioned from him yet only worked on it for five. I'll be damned rather than see what he owes me go to the Shylocks.

Second Voice: I see, Ma'am.

First Voice: In any case, the horse is now legally mine. Monsieur Flump sold her to me for a token sum just before he died - wishing to remove the stain on his conscience before meeting his maker, perhaps? - and the sale was duly witnessed by Curate Adam, a gentleman of impeccable character. I will need to register the sale with the Jockey Club before I can claim her openly and then arrange stabling for her at Roland's baronial estate, however. In the meantime, "possession is nine tenths of the law", as they say...

Second Voice: Indeed so, Ma'am. I won't let you down...