Lord Gould's Expedition: They Who Had Lofty Pillars (IC)

[Lancearc]

"And have you not considered how your lord dealt with 'Aad...With Iram -- who had lofty pillars the likes of whom had never been created in the lands..."

---

The Estate of Lord Jamison Gould
London, England
April 8, 1912

The sky outside was grey and dull, the heavens threatening to drench the citizens of the mortal Earth in rainwater. Although the day was dreary and may invoke feelings of weariness in others, it was not an accurate reflection of the excitement that coursed through the veins of Jamison Gould. He stood with his arms folded across his chest staring out of the large window of his study, waiting patiently for his steward to return. He held out hope that it would rain, in fact, as he observed the beautiful garden of oriental plants growing behind his impressive home. It was the time of year when the Cherry Blossoms were reaching maturity in their dazzling blossom, though he knew from years of watching the trees come and go that it would not last long. Their incredibly beauty came and went so quickly it often made him sad to see them go after their short stay.

The eastern influence on the garden was quite clear -- a small stream trickled over smooth rocks, these same rocks were stacked here and there, a red bridge passed over the stream with both of its sides guarded over by Torii. Though he did not share the Shinto faith, the architecture had an appeal to him, the simple yet elegant wooden gateways, pagodas, other structures common throughout Japan primarily. Further back there was a more traditional garden that his eyes were being lifted to before the sound of the door opening behind him betrayed the presence of his steward, Jamison turning heel to face him, placing his hands on the back of his large leather chair and gripping it somewhat tightly in anticipation. "Is everything prepared?" Jamison asked, a bit nervously.

Timothy nodded, the Irishman giving a reassuring grin. "Don't worry sir. It is just as you asked it to be." he said as his lord stepped out from behind his desk, approaching slowly and leading him on a steadily paced stroll out into the hall, shutting the study door behind him, dimming the lights on the way out.

"I must make a good first impression. I am asking no light undertaking for my guests to follow me on." he emphasized, his hands clasped behind his back as they approached an incredibly beautiful staircase, the center of the impressive estate. As they descended Timothy nodded.

"And you will. The ladies and gentlemen have come at your invitation...as have the harlots and the scoundrels, but, it is at your discretion." he added, clearly holding distaste for a few of the soon to arrive guests.

Jamison only laughed. "It wasn't long ago that you were a scoundrel yourself, as I recall. And a horrible pickpocket at that. You lot should get along very well." he poked fun at his steward, as they stepped through the large front doors of his home and out onto the porch, a comfortably large sitting area led up to by a stone path flanked by trees that shaded and essentially covered the walkway from the rain that began to lightly sprinkle upon the Earth.

Soon the guests would arrive, and he wished to welcome them himself. If all went well, it would pay to be on their good side before things got...tense. Difficult. But it was what they would sign up for, after all.

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

The carriage ride was bumpy. It had been quite a while since the last time Ese had been in England. Although the girl herself was quite poor, she had a few travels funded by wealthy gentlemen seeking her advice on Egypt from a native perspective, as well as to tell her tales of the horrors of slavery ongoing in areas under Ottoman influence, just missed by the morally superior European sight that sought to end the evil trade once and for all. At least, that's what she had been told. It was true, however, that she gave talks of her experiences as an Egyptian and as a slave. Her knowledge of Egyptian artifacts was, likewise, masterful, as the false artifacts and mummies she had crafted had been convincing enough to get the poor girl an invitation to London to meet some lord. She told him the truth, that the artifacts were fake, but had chosen to come anyway, supposedly without too much issue. After all, if she can forge a masterful fake, doesn't she know plenty about the real thing?

Hearing trickles on the roof of the carriage, she donned a raincoat. A black rubber sheath made with the magic of vulcanization to cover herself as she stepped out from the carriage and into the rain. Such a thing would've been useful in Egypt, and she did have crude forms of it; it would not have seen use because of the lack of rain, but instead because of the chemicals she worked with and the general wetness of the areas around the Nile. Stepping out of the carriage, she postured herself and started taking steps forward. She was bearing the crude image of a lady lost, wearing a worn dress, no jewelry, tattered shoes, and nothing else but her raincoat. She carried a crudely stitched bag that held a few items of hers, among them her one finery, her one valuable possession: a luxurious leather jacket, well-made and of utmost quality. It was the only luxury she could afford in the face of much more expensive and mainstream European fashions.

Stepping into the garden gave Ese a word of intrigue and mystery. The plants of the Orient were beautiful, unlike anything she'd seen before. The way the cold rain trickled down the trees and bushes made her pause for a moment simply to admire the sheer natural beauty. Egypt, too, was a place of great beauty when it wanted to be, but she'd spent too much time in the cities trying to get by to admire such. It was, perhaps, the one perk of being a slave: her master's garden was always a sight to behold. It would be the singular fond memory she had of that era of her life, and it was hardly worth staying a slave for.

Walking up the ramp, she would see a man sitting on a porch with another man nearby. Taking a moment to realize this was probably the kind gentleman who had invited her, who had brought her back to the colder reaches of London, she did a speechless curtsy. She did not know what to say, how to introduce herself. Ese was fluent in Coptic, Arabic, Persian, Greek, and English, each learned for a reason: Coptic and Arabic as native tongues, Persian and Greek as classics taught to her as a slave, for she was an 'almeh, an educated dancer who was good in conversation as well as entertainment, and lastly English to spread her story in Europe. Yet, with all the knowledge she had held in these languages, she could not muster a single word in any of them.

[Lancearc]

Lord Gould had been quietly staring down the walkway flanked by the exotic flora of the Far East when the rattle of an approaching carriage managed to break him from his stupor, drawing his attention from the way the small raindrops trickled down the sides of the Cherry Blossoms to the horses now coming to a halt in line with the pathway leading up to the Gould Estate. When the carriage stopped he stood with anticipation, wondering who the first arrival was, and simultaneously pleased that they'd actually chosen to show, given the vague nature of the invitation they had each received. It would, as he expected, pique the interest of the adventurer he knew resided in all of them, though he wasn't entirely certain that it wouldn't be overridden by the natural cautiousness they possessed as well. He waited, and the carriage door did open for all the anticipation, with much less of a climax than he expected.

A young girl stepped out, whom he recognized. Ese was, as he recalled, ten years younger, but having faced far more hardship than he could have imagined when he was the same age. From a slave to homelessness, to fooling European nobles like himself by crafting expertly faked, yet still faked, Egyptian artifacts and passing them off to men like himself. Though he had likely fallen a victim of her traps in the past, hers were skills that could be exceptionally useful. He knew she was a speaker of many languages, clearly an expert on artifacts from the era and area. Despite her dishonesty about her trade items prior, he felt she was a nice girl, and more importantly, one he could count on to play a role.

He watched her curtsy and expected her to speak, but was rewarded with silence. He gave a slight grin, extending a hand. "Welcome, Ese." he smiled in greeting. The girl was dressed quite modestly, as would be expected, he supposed. "It's probably best to get out of the rain, madame. Shall I help you with that?" he referred to her rain-drenched coat as Timothy opened the door behind him with a slow creaking from the imposing front entrance. "I must admit I'm quite relieved that you've come."

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

She watched intently as the lord welcomed her to his luxurious abode. She was still somewhat caught up in the garden affair, the beautiful Eastern flora, when she was beckoned closer. She stepped forwards, under the roof that protected the lord and his apparent servant, and offered him her coat. It was dripping, but she simply turned it inside-out, revealing the dry layer underneath which would make it easy to hold without issue. It was only when he stated that he was relieved, however, that she could muster a response at all, something she felt appropriate given the situation, and simply as a matter of courtesy. Upon his finishing his sentence, she spoke up in reply, "Of curs, I would alwayz pursue a shans to go beyon Egyp" she stated, in her thick accent. She realized, after a moment, and blushed, coughing, and putting on a more 'educated' accent, less heavy in its Egyptian flow and pronunciations in favor of more English ones: "I mean to say that to escape Egypt is always a good experience." she completed. Although her speech was still a bit slurry, and her "g" was still a bit soft like the French would say it, it was much more comprehensible to the common English ear.

Stepping inside, she looked around the room. She saw beautiful, gilded furniture, elaborately decorated rugs, paintings of wonderful men and women alike. Upon inspecting one of the women, she looked over herself and was reminded of her poor situation. Reaching into her purse, she looked once more at the women in the paintings. She donned a pair of latex medical gloves, something she typically carried in handling chemicals, corpses, and artifacts. A clean pair was always useful to have. Alongside these, she also slipped on her leather jacket which, like that of a lady, was luxuriously soft. Her one good possession, she called it, and it was true. The cold London days gave her an excuse to wear it. Now feeling a bit more on-par with European fashion styles, although still not quite up to the standard, she turned to face the lord who had graciously let her in. "Thank you for your hospitality, Lord."

[Shark isle]

Charles looked out the window of his cab and sighed. It had been eight hours since he arrived in England and he was getting impatient. The only reason he was even in this crappy, run-down cab was because of a simple letter he had received three weeks ago. The letter had been sent to him from England to his home in the Florida Keys, the place where he chose to live in his early retirement. The letter offered him a chance to see a private museum owned by some man named Lord Gould. But more importantly, this Lord Gould person was offering a chance for wealth, something he always wanted. Even though he had a small fortune back home from his boxing days, it had never been enough for him and his playboy lifestyle. As the cab came to a stop in front of Gould Manor he looked out and saw three people in the porch. He grabbed a newspaper that was next to him and held over his head. As he stepped out it was obvious to people that saw him that he was a tall man, most likely around 6 ft 5 in. He turned to his cab driver and said in a gravely voice," How much for the ride?" The cab turned to him and said with a grin on his face," 10 pounds guv." Charles had a look of shock and said to him with a growl," But your company said it would be five!" The man shrugged and said with a cackle," Too bad mate, pay up or I will call the police". Charles growled as he pulled 10 pounds out of his pocket and gave it to the cabby. Charles then did something unexpected, he turned and punched the cab in the face, knocking him out. He then started to walk towards the porch. As he came closer anyone looking at him would notice his face was scarred, mostly likely due to his years in boxing. His nose looked like it had been broken three times and he had a brown mustache which looked well trimmed. As he walked toward the porch he held the newspaper over his head to protect it from rain.

[Lancearc]

Jamison nodded to Timothy as the door closed behind them, leaving his steward to grant entry to any of the other invited men and women whilst allowing him to host the first arrival, so as to not appear rude immediately. He held her coat folded over his arm, listening as she first spoke to him with an incredibly rough accent, before she caught herself in embarrassment and did her best to mask it. "It's always a welcome change to leave home. They say that sooner or later you long for it, but I've never found that to be the case." he shared with his guest as he more or less followed her inside more than leading her, watching as she admired paintings, the extravagant rugs and furnishings in the main hall, opulent chandeliers, even the wallpaper bore intricate golden patterns. Jamison watched as she self-consciously slid on a pair of gloves that seemed more than a bit out of place, and what was in truth a fine jacket, making her appear just a bit closer to proper, he feeling as though she may feel a bit intimidated by his and presumably the other arriving lords clean and trim coats, neat suit vests, and expensive ties.

"The pleasure is all mine to have you in London dear, forgiving the weather, I plan to receive all of you as kings. Queens, in your case." he smiled, turning back to gaze out a a rainy window pane near the door, large enough that one could still observe the garden outside.

"I noticed you seemed to enjoy the garden? It is...amazingly beautiful." he sighed, stepping towards the glass and admiring it as she had done. "Have you ever been to the East?" he asked, before continuing. "When I was young, I was taught much about...their culture, their perceptions, how they viewed the world. Their faiths and what they saw as beauty. Their codes of honor, their warrior poets and sword wielding philosophers..." he carried on, pausing for a brief moment.

"An old friend of mine inspired me to plant the garden. Each of the plants I chose the offspring from myself, and had them brought back with me. If it weren't so horrid out I would offer to show you. There is no greater pleasure on God's Earth than to sit in its shadow on a summer's day and craft a haiku, in my eyes." he shared, before shaking his head.

"Of course, I'm rambling, I hope that your trip here was free of complications madame! How was your journey?" he attempted to recover from his trailing off with a nervous chuckle.

---

Timothy had watched the entire scene from the porch, a large man knocking his ride silly almost immediately upon arrival over a dispute that truly was unwise, given the differential in size between the two men. As the larger man stepped out he could make out his features, a crooked nose residing over a rather well-kempt mustache that was entirely out of place on a scarred and imprinted face. He inwardly figured that this man was...less than polite, one of the scoundrels he knew his lord had invited to their estate that day, but still offered him a friendly greeting. "Good day, sir! My apologies of the weather, may I help you with anything?" he offered as he grabbed the door handle, prepared to grant the newcomer entry.

[Port Alexander]

I: Old Habits.

Sir Godfrey de la Moye held the telephone reciever to his ear in one hand and his smoking pipe in the other - occasionally puffing out smoke during a break in the conversation.

"...I will be sure to keep you well informed, don't worry yourself.......Yes I have my instructions on my person at this very moment" said Sir Godfrey in an uncharacteristically soothing tone. The voice responded and Godfrey hung up the reciever ending the correspondence. "Remarkable things" he muttered to himself as he turned and exited the hotel which had been his abode for the past few days.

Having prearranged his carriage, he only had to walk out of the grand lobby, with its revolving doors and attentive staff, briefly out into the relentless English rain and then step into his awaiting transportation. Without a word being said the driver flicked his wrists and the horses began to move.

~~~

Sir Godfrey did notice the beauty of Lord Gould's garden but his thoughts were dominated by what his mysterious invitation could mean. All his life, even before he had reached 20 years old, Godfrey had travelled half way around the world as well as receiving, albeit illegally, an Officer's Commission in Her Majesty Queen Victoria's Army. However, this was different - previously Godfrey had been the master of his destiny, he had made the plans, he had blagged his way on to ships, he had willingly danced with danger and death. But now he wasn't in control - a prospect which both frightened and excited him.

With rain pattering rhythmically off of his umbrella, Sir Godfrey with his cashmere tailored suit and sunkissed, but weather-weary face, entered the porch of the enigmatic Lord Gould his mind exploding with theories of what the young aristocrat had in store for them.

Sir Godfrey, too, noticed that he was not the first to arrive - he rang the door bel all the while thankful that the porch offered respite from the cold rain. The door was answered by one of the Lord's personal staff and with tired eyes that had seen the best and worst of human endeavours Godfrey looked welcominly at the servant.

"Good Day, I Am Sir Godfrey de la Moye I have received a most welcome, but unexpected, invite from your employer Lord Gould." As he said this Godfrey proved his claim by showing the letter to the staff member.

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

"The trip was very lovely." She assured him, "I got to see Italy and Spain on the way, both of which were very lovely places, with many trees and beautiful mountains. We did not stop in them, but...just to see was good enough." She smiled, "You know, the al-Abbas Caliphate fought against China once? They allied with Tibet some time around 750, and they used the Turks to beat the Chinese. It is said the prisoners from the battle gave paper to the West. The Battle of Talas is a very interesting episode in Arab history. Egypt has never seen battle in the East. The Egyptians prefer to stay at home, unlike the Arabs."

She stated this almost matter-of-factly, in precise articulation and flow of speech that might've indicated this was something she had been drilled in. "They say it is a crowning achievement of the Caliphate, although the Abbas were not Ash'ari, so they are frowned upon by the new sultans." she furthered, again sounding as if this had all been drilled into her head. It made for good conversation, certainly, and gave her an air of being education and convseration-worthy. Doubtless, this was one of many things she picked up as a slave, whereby she was educated to appear a fitting companion to her master, staving off his more primal desires perchance by appearing more as a friend, entertainer, or adviser.

"I am sad to say I know little else about the East. It's always been a thing of fascination, but I've never had the chance to see for myself. Looking into your garden, though.." her speech is more natural once more, and she peers out the window at the delicate blossoms being struck tenderly by the soft pitter-patter of rain, "I feel accomplished in seeing this much. It is a beautiful garden, Lord. I am glad for the opportunity to gaze upon its majesty."

[Shark isle]

Jamison nodded to Timothy as the door closed behind them, leaving his steward to grant entry to any of the other invited men and women whilst allowing him to host the first arrival, so as to not appear rude immediately. He held her coat folded over his arm, listening as she first spoke to him with an incredibly rough accent, before she caught herself in embarrassment and did her best to mask it. "It's always a welcome change to leave home. They say that sooner or later you long for it, but I've never found that to be the case." he shared with his guest as he more or less followed her inside more than leading her, watching as she admired paintings, the extravagant rugs and furnishings in the main hall, opulent chandeliers, even the wallpaper bore intricate golden patterns. Jamison watched as she self-consciously slid on a pair of gloves that seemed more than a bit out of place, and what was in truth a fine jacket, making her appear just a bit closer to proper, he feeling as though she may feel a bit intimidated by his and presumably the other arriving lords clean and trim coats, neat suit vests, and expensive ties.

"The pleasure is all mine to have you in London dear, forgiving the weather, I plan to receive all of you as kings. Queens, in your case." he smiled, turning back to gaze out a a rainy window pane near the door, large enough that one could still observe the garden outside.

"I noticed you seemed to enjoy the garden? It is...amazingly beautiful." he sighed, stepping towards the glass and admiring it as she had done. "Have you ever been to the East?" he asked, before continuing. "When I was young, I was taught much about...their culture, their perceptions, how they viewed the world. Their faiths and what they saw as beauty. Their codes of honor, their warrior poets and sword wielding philosophers..." he carried on, pausing for a brief moment.

"An old friend of mine inspired me to plant the garden. Each of the plants I chose the offspring from myself, and had them brought back with me. If it weren't so horrid out I would offer to show you. There is no greater pleasure on God's Earth than to sit in its shadow on a summer's day and craft a haiku, in my eyes." he shared, before shaking his head.

"Of course, I'm rambling, I hope that your trip here was free of complications madame! How was your journey?" he attempted to recover from his trailing off with a nervous chuckle.

---

Timothy had watched the entire scene from the porch, a large man knocking his ride silly almost immediately upon arrival over a dispute that truly was unwise, given the differential in size between the two men. As the larger man stepped out he could make out his features, a crooked nose residing over a rather well-kempt mustache that was entirely out of place on a scarred and imprinted face. He inwardly figured that this man was...less than polite, one of the scoundrels he knew his lord had invited to their estate that day, but still offered him a friendly greeting. "Good day, sir! My apologies of the weather, may I help you with anything?" he offered as he grabbed the door handle, prepared to grant the newcomer entry.

As Charles walked towards the porch he saw a servant waiting for him. He looked around while walking and quickly admired Lord Gould's garden, which had plants of all kinds. As he climbed up the porch he saw another man walked up the porch and greet the servant. Charles nodded at the man and then said to the servant in his gravely voice," Yeah, I got an invitation from Lord Gould. Also can you show me where your liquor cabinet is? I have been on that shyster's cab for 7 hours and my throat is as dry as the desert."

[Lancearc]

Timothy had stood to welcome another gentlemen to the door, though this one arrived under an umbrella rather than a newspaper, in a finely tailored suit and with an overall look of distinction which the newcomer prior lacked altogether in his barbaric manner. He smiled and greeted this man as well. "Of course, of course! My Lord has been awaiting your arrival for some time now with great anticipation, Sir Godfrey." he answered, before addressing the question posed by the haggard looking American man. "I'm certain that Lord Gould will see to all of your needs, though I must advise that it would be best not to cloud your mind with such distractions so early." he cautioned, before pushing open the great entrance to announce the new arrivals whom he was well aware with prior to their arrivals and introductions.

"Sirs Godfrey de la Moye and Charles Greystone, the Second." he announced as he ushered the new arrivals in.

---

"Is that so? I had never known." Jamison answered with interest as Ese told him of an earlier Caliphate's conflicts with China, though it was clear that this was something that she had said so many times before that it hardly qualified as an honest conversation with her, rather it being something she would say almost on cue. It was still impressive that she recalled these things, or wished to, given the circumstances under which she was taught them.

When the new arrivals were announced, he turned with a wide grin and welcomed them, standing beside the Egyptian girl. "Welcome, gentlemen, welcome!" he greeted the two, as the large doors shut behind them. "Perhaps we should get better acquainted elsewhere, rather than standing and tiring ourselves?" he suggested immediately. "Quite pleased to meet each of you, Sir Godfrey, Mr. Greystone."

[Shark isle]

Timothy had stood to welcome another gentlemen to the door, though this one arrived under an umbrella rather than a newspaper, in a finely tailored suit and with an overall look of distinction which the newcomer prior lacked altogether in his barbaric manner. He smiled and greeted this man as well. "Of course, of course! My Lord has been awaiting your arrival for some time now with great anticipation, Sir Godfrey." he answered, before addressing the question posed by the haggard looking American man. "I'm certain that Lord Gould will see to all of your needs, though I must advise that it would be best not to cloud your mind with such distractions so early." he cautioned, before pushing open the great entrance to announce the new arrivals whom he was well aware with prior to their arrivals and introductions.

"Sirs Godfrey de la Moye and Charles Greystone, the Second." he announced as he ushered the new arrivals in.

---

"Is that so? I had never known." Jamison answered with interest as Ese told him of an earlier Caliphate's conflicts with China, though it was clear that this was something that she had said so many times before that it hardly qualified as an honest conversation with her, rather it being something she would say almost on cue. It was still impressive that she recalled these things, or wished to, given the circumstances under which she was taught them.

When the new arrivals were announced, he turned with a wide grin and welcomed them, standing beside the Egyptian girl. "Welcome, gentlemen, welcome!" he greeted the two, as the large doors shut behind them. "Perhaps we should get better acquainted elsewhere, rather than standing and tiring ourselves?" he suggested immediately. "Quite pleased to meet each of you, Sir Godfrey, Mr. Greystone."

Charles though to himself when he finally saw Lord Gould," Hmm, this is Lord Gould. I wonder what he wants with a boxer like me?" Charles then looked around the room he was in and was impressed. This Lord Gould person was obviously very wealthy. He then saw that their was an other guest. As he took a closer look at the girl he realized she was Egyptian in origin. Charles then took a small, circular tin out of his pocket and took some tobacco out and started to chew it. He then started to walk over to Lord Gould with his hand extended for a handshake while saying," It is a pleasure to meet ya Lord Gould."

[Lancearc]

Timothy had stood to welcome another gentlemen to the door, though this one arrived under an umbrella rather than a newspaper, in a finely tailored suit and with an overall look of distinction which the newcomer prior lacked altogether in his barbaric manner. He smiled and greeted this man as well. "Of course, of course! My Lord has been awaiting your arrival for some time now with great anticipation, Sir Godfrey." he answered, before addressing the question posed by the haggard looking American man. "I'm certain that Lord Gould will see to all of your needs, though I must advise that it would be best not to cloud your mind with such distractions so early." he cautioned, before pushing open the great entrance to announce the new arrivals whom he was well aware with prior to their arrivals and introductions.

"Sirs Godfrey de la Moye and Charles Greystone, the Second." he announced as he ushered the new arrivals in.

---

"Is that so? I had never known." Jamison answered with interest as Ese told him of an earlier Caliphate's conflicts with China, though it was clear that this was something that she had said so many times before that it hardly qualified as an honest conversation with her, rather it being something she would say almost on cue. It was still impressive that she recalled these things, or wished to, given the circumstances under which she was taught them.

When the new arrivals were announced, he turned with a wide grin and welcomed them, standing beside the Egyptian girl. "Welcome, gentlemen, welcome!" he greeted the two, as the large doors shut behind them. "Perhaps we should get better acquainted elsewhere, rather than standing and tiring ourselves?" he suggested immediately. "Quite pleased to meet each of you, Sir Godfrey, Mr. Greystone."

Charles though to himself when he finally saw Lord Gould," Hmm, this is Lord Gould. I wonder what he wants with a boxer like me?" Charles then looked around the room he was in and was impressed. This Lord Gould person was obviously very wealthy. He then saw that their was an other guest. As he took a closer look at the girl he realized she was Egyptian in origin. Charles then took a small, circular tin out of his pocket and took some tobacco out and started to chew it. He then started to walk over to Lord Gould with his hand extended for a handshake while saying," It is a pleasure to meet ya Lord Gould."

Jamison smiled and took the mans him in a firm grasp, though he was personally put off by the chewing tobacco he insisted on chewing simultaneously whilst speaking to him. He took a step back after the formality. "The pleasure is all mine, of course. I imagine that this is your first time in England? Or anywhere in the British Empire, for that matter?" he inquired with a slight grin, taking a look about his assembled guests thus far. Perhaps I was concerned over nothing...it appears we'll have quite the turn out. he thought, and felt silly for his earlier apprehension. Wealth and adventure was enough to pique most anyone's interest. If not one, certainly the other would be appealing, and coin was appealing to all, it seemed.

"I'm quite happy you've all come, but now that we're here we should get settled in more properly. I'd be delighted to have you all in my sitting room, come." he insisted with a wave of his hand, beckoning his assembled guests to ascend that impressive staircase with him, sliding his hand up the rail lightly and to the walkway overhead, leading them left down the first floor hallway and taking another left at another intersection after that, which opened up into a large room complete with a long table at its center, set for what appeared to be a future impressive dinner. At one end burned a freshly lit fireplace, whilst all around there were smaller sitting tables and furniture to lounge in. On the wall there were various prized game animals -- a massive moose hunted in the Yukon territory of Canada, a lion shot in the Savanna, an American Bison, to name a few of the most impressively sized animals.

"If any of you would like anything...food, drink?" he asked, taking a seat in a rather large, red armchair near which lay a box of cigars, imported from Cuba, though he didn't reach for one just then. "Make yourselves comfortable, we've plenty to talk about, and perhaps soon...the main attraction." he grinned almost mischievously, referring to the family's collection of historical and impressive artifacts. "I feel you'll all agree with the proposition I shall bring forward."

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

The whole of the house was lovely. There was no question. Gilded furniture, brilliant paintings, wonderful pieces of art, fine woods, a warm fireplace. It was all one could really want in life, except adventure, which is where Ese expecting things were going as per the details of the invitation. Furthermore, it was a much grander estate than Ese had truly seen before, and for once, her experience on such a grand estate was not as a servant or a slave, but as a respected individual. Well, as respected as someone of her general status could truly be. She examined closely the treasures of the dining room, the various things scattered around, and was fixated for a brief time on the moose. Such a strange animal, she thought. Certainly, there was the lion, an impressive beast to find slain and mounted, and furthermore one more familiar to her. She'd seen wild lions in the past, although seeing a dead one mounted on the wall felt odd. Lions were not something the Egyptians hunted often, even though they certainly did inhabit the entirety of Egypt's rivers. The next was the bison, a hairy cow by most means. It was, perhaps, one of the largest beasts she'd ever had the pleasure of seeing the head of. Despite this, the moose fixated her as a simply odd creature. It resembled a few animals she'd known, but much larger with a more elaborate antler web. A beast from the far north, it was truly a sight to be seen.

A question came in which Ese was asked whether there were any accommodations that could be made for her, as well as the other guests. Food and drink were offered, and after a brief period of silence, she spoke up. "May I have some tonic water? I've seen the British officers drink it, but I've never had the option." She thought back to her experiences in Egypt with British officers. They were a truly odd bunch, in her opinion. The officers let off a constant air of machismo, and yet offered her sympathy as an escaped slave. They were rough and tough, yet they were the one thing saving Egypt from its Turkish oppressors. They took artifacts and corpses right out of Egypt, and yet they appreciated the local culture more than anyone. She'd heard that in their Indian posts, the locals invented a new type of curry to try to force the British officers to capitulate to the spiciness, a humorous story indeed, and yet British food was typically very basic. Tonic water was something she'd only seen, and thus she spoke up, "Perhaps the...coke? The sweet one. I can't handle overt bitterness."

[Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States]

Gould Estate
London
8th of April, 1912

“By jove…”

“Bugger it…”

“Good lord…”

“Damnation…”

The unending slur of profanities was one of two sounds that dominated the air. The other was the rumble of a Straight-6 engine, which powered the glistening Rolls-Royce automobile in which two men were seated. Behind the wheel of this RR Silver Ghost was a man clad in a sharp, black suit. His hair was neatly combed, fitting nicely with the tightly knotted black tie and the slim fit of his suit, which seemed to match the black colour of his hair. Under his nose was a slim moustache, highlighted starkly by the satisfied grin around his mouth. His two hands held the wheel in a relaxed manner as the car sped across the road at a satanic 50 km/h. There was a glint of boyish glee in his eyes as he made his car do tight turns and brisk accelerations. Beside him sat the opposite of this careless optimism. Stuck in a blue-red uniform of the Imperial Yeomanry sat another man, only slightly younger in his face, yet older in his mannerisms. He had no moustache, although his upper lip curled up to his nose in anguish. With his left hand he held the top side of his door, while his right hand was wrapped firmly around his seating. His eyes shot from left to right as they sped across the dirt road, his mouth being the source of the profanities that did fill the air surrounding them.

“Alexander” Charles said to his brother, letting go of his seat to hold his hat firmly against his skull.

“Alexander, shouldn’t you slow down? I heard some… bloody hell… some scientists are worried about the effects of speed on the human… good graces… human body. Did you know that…”

Alexander let go of the steering wheel with his left hand, waving it around as if performing some oral argument. This didn’t help to calm his younger brother.

“Charles, old boy. I’ve driven this baby around town since before you came back from India, and I’m still fine. I’ve even done 80 miles per hour with it. Wait, I’ll show you” Alexander said, as his hand reached towards the gear box. Charles was quick to intercept the hand of his brother, who couldn’t help but show a smile of gratification. He laughed a bit.

“Really, brother” he said, looking at a corner as he steered into it, the g-forces rustling Charles’ jimmies. “I thought you learned how to handle speed in the cavalry. I can’t say I’m disappointed, but…” he said, with a cheeky twinkle in his left eye.

“Hmpf” Charles answered, trying not to show too much of his ever-increasing motion sickness.

“A horse has a strict aversion of danger and death. You can fall asleep on a horse, and by nightfall you’ll be back at camp with a bottle… Jesus almighty… bottle of brandy firmly in your hand. Have you ever tried doing that with your Royce Rolls?”

Now it was Alexander who puffed in disagreement, although he couldn’t entirely disagree with the logic of his brother.

“It’s a Rolls Royce…” he muttered, seemingly into the void. Quickly, he found a way to move the conversation forward. “You better get used to this, Charlesy. In ten years, all cavalry will be flying, not running around on horseback. Mark my word, you’ll be in one of those aeroplanes yet.”

Charles shook his head heavily. “The day I have to give up my horse is the day I desert from His Majesties Army. I’ve seen one fly last month, one of those German models. If that is the future of warfare, well… I guess the socialist will get their world peace after all.”

The two brothers laughed a bit, before Alexander was reminded to mind the road and Charles realised in what peril they were.

- - - - - - - -

Fifteen minutes later, Charles waved his brother goodbye. It had been a long time since he’d seen his brother, the now honourable lord Hill. He had been abroad much during the last years, only returning a few times for some much-needed vacation. Even though Charles has settled four years before, the constant care of his new family and his now one-year-old son had taken more time than he’d hoped. Here, trapped in the social net that was Edwardian Britain, he could do nothing but lead the life if an ordinary Master of the House. He couldn’t complain, really. Britain’s climate did agree with him more than the tropical moist air of India or the burning African sun. However, he did miss the excitement of the army. The forests of Outer London just weren’t the same as the wide savannah of Africa, no matter how hard he squinted at the local rabbit population. So, when Charles Edward Hill received a letter from the right honourable Master Gould, his interest was peaked aplenty. His brother was more than happy to give him a lift to the Gould Estate, which gave them some time to reconnect.

Swiftly, without the aid of an umbrella (which he had forgotten out of habit), Charles walked up the stairs leading up to the manor door with a swift, brisk pace. Gentlemen run nor shout, but nobody said anything about walking at a higher-than-normal pace. The rain ticked softly on the blue of his uniform and the red of his cap, as well as on the white of his gloves. Holding the scabbard of his sword with his left hand, Charles walked up to the monumental doors of the estate. Luckily, he was expected, and quickly let into the manor. While walking the corridors and hallways of the house, he was captivated by a feeling of wonder. Of course, he had seen many great manors, but this estate has something special about it. It was even more opulent than the estate of his brother, attaining a very modern look while holding on to a more conservative feel. Charles eventually reached the group, seated in a large room in the first floor. Yes, it was the first floor, as he had entered on the bottom floor. That logic shouldn’t come as a surprise, even to colonial yokels from across the pond.

“Lord Gould, how good to finally make your acquaintance.” He said, making a small bow towards the man seated in a grand red seat. “I have never had the time to extend my condolences over the loss of your father. I was on my way from Alexandria when it happened. I’ve never had the honour of meeting him, but my father only spoke heartily about him. Do you mind if I take a seat?”

Charles did feel the queasiness of the automobile ride coming up. Him rushing through the building and up the stairs hadn’t done much to help that feeling pass, either. Perhaps it was this sickly state of mind, or the general air of lord Gould that stopped him from reading into the man. He couldn’t quite penetrate his defences, so to speak. He could read little from his face, and the little information he had (which Alexander had been happy to supply) was limited. He knew Gould had been a sickly child, having been treated for tuberculosis, but for the rest? He didn’t have a military record, no commission… he was just lord Gould, a man with the most imposing house on this side of London. Speaking about military commissions, Charles thought he saw someone in the corner of his eye, praying that it wasn’t he man who he thought it was. He could only handle so much sickness in a single day of course, and if that really was that dreadful De La Moye, he was in for a treat…

[Shark isle]

As Charles followed Lord Gould through his house he could not help but admire the decorations he had all over the house. When they reached what he though was the dining room he was even more impressed by what he saw, taxidermied heads mounted all over the place hinting that his host was a hunter. After spitting out his tobacco in a nearby wastebasket Charles sat down on a chair and let out a sigh of relief. When Lord Ghould asked if anyone wanted refreshments, Charles grinned and said in his gravely voice," Can i have a glass of whisky? Also, can you pass me one of those cigars"?

[Lancearc]

Lord Gould was just about to respond to Ese's request when another of his guests quickly entered, having been allowed entrance by Timothy at the door. He recognized him as Charles Hill, a man many called war hero but still others often whispered that he'd accomplished little to nothing besides enduring what was surely a grueling and savage captivity at the hands of the Boers. Regardless of the truth of that matter, something he didn't involve himself in by never really giving an opinion, a Major of His Majesties Army was almost certainly as valuable an asset as someone who had actually seen extensive combat and had experience with such things. At least, Jamison reasoned, he had received training over the matter in his time. "Major, it is an honour, truly." he smiled, standing from his chair to receive his newest guest. When he spoke of his father his expression did not change, but a twinge of sadness entered his voice. "It was...tragic, what happened. The suddenness of it all shocked many of us, myself included." he lied. In truth, he felt next to nothing when he had received the news. His father was an intelligent man, perhaps an honourable man, but his conduct in regards to his wife and his son for most of his life left him without much love for the men in the end.

Of course, his disdain for his father wasn't known by many, if it was at all. Very little was known of the new Lord Gould as it was, as he rarely engaged in the social circles of the English elite. "Of course Major, take a seat. We were just getting comfortable ourselves." he allowed to his guest with a kind nod.

"Margarette, could you please fetch the dear what she requires? I assume it is available?" he asked per Ese's request quickly, as a woman who was busying herself dusting one of the nearby bookshelves nodded. "Of course, Lord Gould." she answered shortly, and she was off on her task before returning in swift order with the beverage the Egyptian girl requested.

"And of course, Mr. Greystone. Timothy is on his way with the drink, I believe. From straight across the Irish Sea, Dublin. I believe you'll find it more to your liking than the rougher tastes of your Kentucky distilleries, meaning no offense." he boasted in jest, whilst handing the man one of the prized tobacco products imported from the Caribbean.

"I do hope you've all come with an excellent appetite. The cooks have been in the kitchens since the early morning hours preparing a meal fit for the King himself.

"Speaking of Kings...how familiar are each of you with Alexander the III, of Macedon?" he inquired with a slight smirk.

[Stadenwick]

The infamous soggy and wet climate of London greeted Ludwig as the Austrian man depart from his cab and walked off to the manor he was invited to. It's been a while since he set his foot down to a foreign land far from the reach of the Archduke, and much longer since he visited Britain that time when his family was invited for a grand ball set by one of the English noble of some sort. The bone of his feet shivers at the thought of that day, back when his Ma and Brother still in the realm of the living folks.

But that just him getting carried away with the scenery surrounding him like usual, it's not time to mourn for the dead yet! He's here for adventure, something he lost after he resigned from Austrian military a year or two ago. He still remember Crete, the magical Greek land just few miles away from coast of Turkish land. Even though its for horrifying reason of why his division was ordered to go there, he still remember its exotic, pristine beach and friendly locals. The shining sun of the Mediterranean islands also proved to be something he will missed when he's returned to the Austrian Alpine lands. But he knew his days weren't over yet, at least now that he got this invitation. The day when he repay the life he's taken in the name of the crown for lifee he can safe with his medical knowledge have to come to a halt first. He's still in his 30's with a thirst to do something exciting with his life, and he gonna enjoyed whatever this...Lord Gould could possibly sent him off to.

He walked through the impressively decorated garden filled with floras he didn't know even existed, enjoying the peaceful serenity that comes with it. They must be from the colonies, though he wouldn't know exactly where they come from. There's one or two he recognized from his colonial medical book that they come from Far East, but the rest is just guessing game whether they come from India, Canada, or Afrika. After some time walking filled with many thought in his head, he finally reached the monumental doors of the estate. He was expected of course, and he let himself in to the impressively decorated buildings.

He is impressed, but he would be more if he understand where they come from and how significant their value is. But for now the Austrian doctor can just walked away from them and straight to the group in the second floor. Why, by all logic he is on the first floor of the building, the first level of the building before walking up to the stairs.

"Lord Gouldon, is it? Nice to finally meet you sir." greeted Ludwig with perhaps a slightly heavy accent of German. He smiled and make a small bow to him before taking luxury of finding himself a chair to sit. "I'm pleased to be invited here, if you excuse me to sit myself here, and so far away from London to Vienna!"

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

Taking a curious sip from her drink, Ese soon found her tongue being both massaged and assaulted. She stomped her foot a bit as it tingled in her mouth, and yet it was one of the sweetest and most enjoyable things she had the pleasure of consuming. Taking another eager sip, she seemed quite happy with the choice. It was then, however, that her gracious host had asked the table about Alexander III of Macedon. Did he mean Alexander the Great? He was the third of his kind, wasn't he? She mulled it over for a moment, eagerly sipping down the drink in an unladylike fashion before ultimately coming to the conclusion that, yes, he did indeed mean Alexander the Great.

"He wanted to be a Persian" she stated jokingly, before stiffening up. "He was a great Greek general, even if the Greeks didn't consider him Greek." the second half of this sentence was stated a bit off-hand, but any historian would know it to be accurate: the Greeks despised the Macedonians, they called them barbaric due to their constant warfare and contact with northern tribes, and a Macedonian Symposium was never complete until somebody lay dead and bloodied. A bunch of drunk warlords arguing politics and philosophy? What could possibly go wrong. "He took over the world and wept, for there were no more lands to conquer." She stated, in perhaps the most stiff, yet articulate, phrasing that indicated this was a phrase often drilled into her head in the classic Victorian style of repetition, although for the most part, the drink seemed to have lifted her spirits enough to break such stiffness.

She then looked around the table, and shrank back down a bit, feeling out of place among the noble gentlemen. She, who was a foreigner, a con artist, lower class, and dressed like a classy prostitute with tall boots and short gloves- the opposite of ladies' high fashion. She began to question what her right really was to speak out amongst all of them, expert or not. It was this feeling of inadequacy and of alienation that had brought up her programmed conversation earlier, and the thrill of the fizz had worn off and she was left wondering why she was even here. Quite philosophical, really, if she weren't taking the cynical answers to these questions immediately.

However, a relief came, drawing the attention of others, from a German gent entering the room.

[Lancearc]

"Very good!" Jamison nodded towards Ese again. So far, he was most surprised by the former slave and her extensive knowledge of much of the history of the areas she called familiar or home. Again, it to her was likely only a reminder of where she came from, but despite the unfortunate circumstance of her education it would certainly benefit her in the line of work which he anticipated for her. Before she'd spoken he'd noticed her jubilation upon tasting the beverage she requested, something that served to make him feel as though he were performing a good deed, though at the same time making the poor girl quite uncomfortable and likely feeling inadequate surrounded by high lords and wealthy men like encircled her at the moment. "It just so happens--" he began, though he was interrupted by one of the last new arrivals, Ludwig von Ehrenreich, a highly respected doctor and one of the best professionals in the field. An, unfortunately, necessary asset.

"Greetings, my friend." he smiled again, able to disregard the quite prominent accent the good doctor spoke with. "I share in your sentiments, sir. I've often returned from far away travels and had only the aspiration to slumber the day away after. Luckily you've not traveled overly far, I'm glad to see that you've made it safe and sound." he commented, carrying on.

"As a matter of fact I nearly forgot this rather important date, embarrassing as it is." he chuckled, sighing. "I had purchased a ticket to sail on the White Star Line's new vessel. Titanic they're calling her, beautiful ship, I've been aboard myself. I intended to have a stay in New York City, but luckily my steward served as a reminder that I'd best not spurn so many guests, lest I end up with many enemies." he laughed again at his own near mishap.

[Shadowwell]

Cameron Moore
Lord Gould's Manor

He had been waiting somewhere across the street for some time, hidden, watching the footmen out front and the numerous guests arrive. Most showed up via carriage, or rarely a cab, some of them he would have to watch out for. One carried himself like a boxer, another a woman strangely enough who had a similar air to some who dealt in stolen goods he had met before. He saw many others besides them, he eventually left his hiding spot and made his way to the main street some way down, before approaching the house. He carried with him an antique cane, that hid a sword within it. It was one of his favorite weapons and was an unexpected one at that. He walked up to the doors and they let him in, and a staff member showed him to the room they were all in.

[Lancearc]

Cameron Moore
Lord Gould's Manor

He had been waiting somewhere across the street for some time, hidden, watching the footmen out front and the numerous guests arrive. Most showed up via carriage, or rarely a cab, some of them he would have to watch out for. One carried himself like a boxer, another a woman strangely enough who had a similar air to some who dealt in stolen goods he had met before. He saw many others besides them, he eventually left his hiding spot and made his way to the main street some way down, before approaching the house. He carried with him an antique cane, that hid a sword within it. It was one of his favorite weapons and was an unexpected one at that. He walked up to the doors and they let him in, and a staff member showed him to the room they were all in.

Another man entered after the Austrian, one which Lord Gould was quite familiar with. Not that he had any prior contact with him, or had ever had any desire to meet the man face to face, but one that his rather extensive network of friends, associates, even mistresses and miscellaneous birds had told him many stories about. "Naturally one of the latest to arrive, the least favorite son of the late Lord Blackwell." Gould smiled. "I must sympathize of course, having lost my own beloved father." he added, before continuing to observe the new arrival. Someone who valued discretion and was often cloaked in a veil of secrecy, though he had to ensure that those assembled knew that any cloak could be dismantled.

"Congratulations on your Viscounty, I never had the pleasure to say so in person. I was quite occupied when I also discovered a new Earl of Jersey had been granted the title, that I attempted to seek this man out to no avail." he smiled innocently enough, though it wasn't hostility, only a simple demonstration.

"Of course, I'm quite happy to have you aboard as well, my Lord."

[Shadowwell]

Cameron Moore
Lord Gould's Manor

He had been waiting somewhere across the street for some time, hidden, watching the footmen out front and the numerous guests arrive. Most showed up via carriage, or rarely a cab, some of them he would have to watch out for. One carried himself like a boxer, another a woman strangely enough who had a similar air to some who dealt in stolen goods he had met before. He saw many others besides them, he eventually left his hiding spot and made his way to the main street some way down, before approaching the house. He carried with him an antique cane, that hid a sword within it. It was one of his favorite weapons and was an unexpected one at that. He walked up to the doors and they let him in, and a staff member showed him to the room they were all in.

Another man entered after the Austrian, one which Lord Gould was quite familiar with. Not that he had any prior contact with him, or had ever had any desire to meet the man face to face, but one that his rather extensive network of friends, associates, even mistresses and miscellaneous birds had told him many stories about. "Naturally one of the latest to arrive, the least favorite son of the late Lord Blackwell." Gould smiled. "I must sympathize of course, having lost my own beloved father." he added, before continuing to observe the new arrival. Someone who valued discretion and was often cloaked in a veil of secrecy, though he had to ensure that those assembled knew that any cloak could be dismantled.

"Congratulations on your Viscounty, I never had the pleasure to say so in person. I was quite occupied when I also discovered a new Earl of Jersey had been granted the title, that I attempted to seek this man out to no avail." he smiled innocently enough, though it wasn't hostility, only a simple demonstration.

"Of course, I'm quite happy to have you aboard as well, my Lord."

"Bah" Cameron waved his hand nonchalantly, While he was somewhat surprised at Goulds intelligence, he had somewhat expected it. " Please don't go informing everyone of that, If the papers got wind of it, it would be a tad bit more difficult to do what i do, than it currently is. Some sycophants hope to attach themselves to me because i am the Earl of Jersey, others because I am Viscount Lakewood and am in good standing with the Crown. Others still because i am seemingly a mystery to them." He sat his cane down somewhere and then said " Atleast you don't attach too much importance to class differences like so many of our brethren. Anyways, when i got your invite it looked like a good way to pass the time, and it intrigued me you would give up the Titanic for this."

[Lancearc]

Another man entered after the Austrian, one which Lord Gould was quite familiar with. Not that he had any prior contact with him, or had ever had any desire to meet the man face to face, but one that his rather extensive network of friends, associates, even mistresses and miscellaneous birds had told him many stories about. "Naturally one of the latest to arrive, the least favorite son of the late Lord Blackwell." Gould smiled. "I must sympathize of course, having lost my own beloved father." he added, before continuing to observe the new arrival. Someone who valued discretion and was often cloaked in a veil of secrecy, though he had to ensure that those assembled knew that any cloak could be dismantled.

"Congratulations on your Viscounty, I never had the pleasure to say so in person. I was quite occupied when I also discovered a new Earl of Jersey had been granted the title, that I attempted to seek this man out to no avail." he smiled innocently enough, though it wasn't hostility, only a simple demonstration.

"Of course, I'm quite happy to have you aboard as well, my Lord."

"Bah" Cameron waved his hand nonchalantly, While he was somewhat surprised at Goulds intelligence, he had somewhat expected it. " Please don't go informing everyone of that, If the papers got wind of it, it would be a tad bit more difficult to do what i do, than it currently is. Some sycophants hope to attach themselves to me because i am the Earl of Jersey, others because I am Viscount Lakewood and am in good standing with the Crown. Others still because i am seemingly a mystery to them." He sat his cane down somewhere and then said " Atleast you don't attach too much importance to class differences like so many of our brethren. Anyways, when i got your invite it looked like a good way to pass the time, and it intrigued me you would give up the Titanic for this."

"Of course My Lord, I value discretion myself. You have my word." he smiled, leaning back in his chair and finally reaching for on the cigars that he'd earlier loaned to Mr. Greystone, twiddling it between his fingers but as of yet leaving it unlit and making no move to do so. "If I were restricting myself of good company by caring about class and status I would be just a dull as the rest of our peers. I find that the common, the scoundrels, the self-made men and women of the world have much more interesting tales to tell than how rich their father and his father was." he nodded, carefully inspecting the rolled tobacco in his palm as he responded.

"As much as I would have enjoyed a North Atlantic cruise aboard the vessel, I have much more of a...personal interest in what I've invited you all to manner for tonight, so I decided it best to remain. I'll likely see that my ticket is given to a dear nephew or some friend of my father perhaps, it won't be a complete waste." he finished.

[Neadar]

Alexandra stepped off the carriage and onto the cobble streets. She reached inside and grabbing her suitcase and then briskly walking up to the manor. She saw a man outside and introduced herself to him and asked where she needed to go. He pointed her in the right direction and she went inside. The high heels of her boots clicked against the floor and her dress attempted to trip her at every step. She soon arrived and stepped up toward the man there, "good day," she said setting her suitcase down beside her, "I am Miss. El-Amin. I do apologize for my tardiness, my carriage was delayed. I hope I haven't missed to much".

[Port Alexander]

II: An Officer and a Gentleman?

After being granted entry by one of Lord Gould's staff, Sir Godfrey, maintaining a formal demeanour, put down his umbrella and placed it inside the umbrella stand - something he was sure was made from the finest mahogany. With his overcoat now resting on a peg, he began to head for the sitting room after being informed as to which direction to take. Walking, even only for the short distance, Sir Godfrey could witness the wealth but also the lifelong commitment to adventure and exploration of Lord Gould.

As he stepped into the sitting room he could see that, including the Lord himself, there were already about half a dozen people - all diverse in their background and, to his surprise, gender. The eyes of those already acquainted with the host turned and scanned the approaching Godfrey - all of them sizing the newcomer up. But with typical pomp and confidence, only usually found within the aristocracies of society, he walked up to the Red chair in which Lord Gould sat - his throne one could say as it was obvious this young man was rich beyond all measure.

With right hand extended and a somewhat admiring look, Godfrey initiated contact with the host. "A great privilege to meet you, my Lord, I must thank you for your most unexpected invitation to this, if I may be so bold, most magnificent residence" said Sir Godfrey with his pristine English accent - despite the fact the Army and personal exploration had never seen him live in England for any considerable length of time.

"I am Sir Godfrey de la Moye and please, my Lord, do not be alarmed by my family's French origin - it is said that the de la Moye's dislike the French more than Wellington ever did."

Godfrey hoped that this somewhat lighthearted comment would break the ice between these two men. Furthermore, the Lord being an educated gentleman, would deduce that he was descended from French Huguenot refugees - a brief glimpse into Godfrey's history and heritage, something he thought the Lord would appreciate as it showed a certain level of trust to disclose this information to someone yet unacquainted.

As Godfrey conversed with Lord Gould he remembered. The face, the demeanour and the steely eyes into which Godfrey had looked with distaste many times before. Charles Edward Hill, or rather Major Charles Edward Hill had, what seemed to be, an innate dislike towards Sir Godfrey - a man almost twenty years his senior. The pair had first met in South Africa during the Boer War - Godfrey a War Correspondent for The Morning Post and Charles an Officer in Her Majesty's Army fighting the Boer settlers (who didn't seem to possess any desire to engage in battle on the open field). Godfrey interviewed a handful of officers, one of them being Hill - Godfrey allowed the memory to fade after coming home but it was when the two met again in 1908 at a formal reception that Hill reminded the 'famed and beloved' Sir Godfrey about their encounter. Hill despised the fact Godfrey could come and go as he pleased, all the while Charles was fighting, and eventually imprisoned by, the Boers.

However, Major Hill had, through unknown means, discovered a secret Sir Godfrey believed only a select trusted few were aware of - that he resigned his commission, he so desperately bribed his way into getting, after the disastrous Battle of Isandlwana. It was 1880 when he finally left the Royal Engineers but the trauma and shock of the defeat left Godfrey unable to function as an officer - for the sake of his men and, unashamedly for himself too, he left. But, Hill knew and he would not let him forget it.

Perhaps thought Sir Godfrey, just for a fraction of a second, that this new undertaking would allow for a chance for Hill to see that de la Moye was no less of a man than he. Perhaps.