|Summary:||On Gedeon's last day of recovery, Anton and Josse have a brief talk.|
|Related Logs:||All the poisoning logs.|
|Sept of the Seven|
|The Sept of Terrick's Roost is not a grand spectacle but achieves its power through the feeling of community and peace within. Like any Sept, the mood is generally quiet so people might offer prayers or thoughts without interruption. Along the sides are the seven statues in life-size form of the seven Gods, each in its own particular pose familiar to anyone who knows of them. All but the statue of the Stranger have small offerings lain at their feet or candles lit. At the very head of the Sept is a large window that faces out across the water, the altar rising in front of it. Directly to its front are a few rows of pews and behind that is the standing room for the peasantry. In that area the floor is lain out with a bright seven-pointed star in representation of the Gods.|
|Thu Aug 04, 288|
Afternoon in Terrick's Roost, the sun still blazing down mercilessly overhead. The shade of the sept offers very little respite from the heat, baking in the summer right along with the rest of the Roost. Should Anton be looking for Ser Gedeon he'll find him in the same place as always, asleep right now in the haze of heat. His caretaker for the last few days is in the small room right next door, so noise won't bother the sleeping knight. Josse is sitting at the rickety writing desk in the corner of the room, consulting a large tome and scratching notes with a quill that looks like it's seen too much use.
Anton has been a regular visitor, if often at odd hours, though it does not seem as if he has been intentionally avoiding Josse. Certainly he has sought him out now, in the room nextdoor, the door to which he raps his knuckles on as he steps inside. "Septon," he greets him with a polite nod, "Do you have a moment? I was hoping for an update on Ser Gedeon's condition."
Josse looks up and over his shoulder at the noise. He sets down the quill, the chair gently scraping the floor as he stands up and offers the tall visitor a courteous bow. "My Lord. Of course, please, come in." There being only one chair in the room, he pulls it from the desk and sets it to the side, gesturing the man to it. "Would you care for some water?"
Anton smiles politely at the offer and shakes his head, replying, "Thank you, no. I'm just fine." He takes a seat, lengthy frame folded down into the chair. He looks back across at the now-standing septon and asks, "I was told that you were to be examining the wineskin to see if Gedeon was, indeed, poisoned," he says, "May I ask what you were able to determine?"
Said wineskin is hanging carefully by the desk from a hook on the wall, in a corner where the sun won't cook whatever's left in it. Josse's blue eyes glance that way and then back at Anton. "The plant used is called pennyroyal. If my Lord is not familiar with the name you may be with the scent, it's common enough. It's used sometimes in drops to remedy colds, among other conditions. From the concentration I suspect there was enough in that skin to have killed him if he had imbibed the whole thing himself. By his account he didn't put it there himself, so." His head inclines slightly.
Anton follows Josse's gaze to the skin hanging nearby, eyeing it for a moment before turning back to nod, "Ah, I believe I have heard of it, yes." He nods again, frowning faintly. "And you still expect a full recovery, correct?" he asks, "I noticed that Ser Jarod's squire is back at work, but Gedeon appears to have improved little as yet. Is that to be expected?"
"I do, my Lord," Josse replies, at the question of Gedeon's recovering. "He seemed to be particular sensitive to it. Either that or he may simply had the lion's share. His progress has been steady, though, and he was eating and drinking this morning. Weakened, but I expect he'll be more than able to leave before this evening."
Anton listens and nods once again, replying, "I am glad to hear it. I must thank you, septon, for your attention to him, and your excellent timing in finding him when you did. He and squire Rowan are lucky to have had your help, I am sure." He pauses a moment, and then asks, "Do you know much of this herb? Is it difficult to come by or to prepare or anything?"
"If it please my Lord, Ser Jarod and Lady Lucienne are the ones to be thanked. Without their sharp eyes we would never have seen these two there." Josse deflects politely before making a gesture back at the huge book on his desk. "It is easy enough to come by, though it can be prepared in different ways. Oils, tinctures, teas…I am looking at it in detail now, as I am certain many will wish to know." He looks back at Anton, studying the larger man for a moment. "Will you and Ser Gedeon be remaining here in the Roost, my Lord?"
Anton nods, "I intend to thank them as well, of course, given the chance. And I'm sure Ser Gedeon will wish to as well, when he is better able." He looks to the giant book and his chin rises and falls once more, "Ah, I see. Yes, any information that might prove helpful in identifying the… party responsible would be appreciated." He gestures at the skin where it hangs and asks, "May I?"
Josse turns around, reaching over and pulling the thick leather strap off its hook. The skin is tightly capped, a little liquid still weighing the bottom down. Wordlessly he holds it out for the nobleman to take if he wishes.
Anton leans forward to take the skin, holding it carefully. He looks it over carefully, fingers brushing the leather, searching for anything notable, identifiable, out of the ordinary. After a few minutes he seems to have satisfied himself, and hands it back, offering, "Thank you. I suppose the poisoner using a marked skin would be a bit too much to hope for," he says, smiling faintly, wryly.
Josse allows himself a thin smirk. "Alas no, my Lord." He takes the skin back, handling it carefully. "That's one prayer the gods didn't quite see fit to answer. But perhaps they will have mercy on others."
"Alas," Anton echoes, watching as Josse returns the skin to its place. "So we must hope," he replies, "Though I would not wager much on the hope of finding sufficient evidence to make a real case of it." His brow wrinkles faintly and he shakes his head, "Hopefully he will, at least, be safer here. We have been invited to stay for a few days, and it seems wisest to avail ourselves of that hospitality while we can."
"Aye, my Lord." Josse replies, quite neutrally. "Then I am sure I shall see you again before too long. Perhaps then we'll have something else to talk about." He glances down at the skin and turns to hang it back on the wall.
Anton inclines his head, and agrees, "So I hope. It would be a sad visit indeed if the only topic fit for discussion was the attempted murder of my unfortunate friend."
"Troubled days, my Lord." Josse's hands fold in front of him as he straightens again and lifts his chin, regarding the Valentin. "For Ser Gedeon at least I pray some are behind him…but as of now that remains difficult to tell."
"So it seems," Anton says, "Unfortunately. And yes, I do hope that this will be the worst of it for him," he says, glancing sideways as if to look through the wall to where the young man in question sleeps. After a moment his gaze slides back to Josse and he says, "Would you possibly be able to provide information about other common poisons?" he asks, "Signs to look out for?"
"Many poisons present like illness, my Lord," Josse says, spreading his hands briefly before they fold together again. "Sickness of the stomach is most common. Chills, sweats, racing of the heart. Muscles twitching in spasm or weakness. Those are signs of the quicker poisons. The slower ones can be much more insidious." He lifts a brow slightly. "You think that after a failed poisoning, someone would try the same method again?" The septon sounds a little doubtful.
Anton lifts broad shoulders in a shrug, and shakes his head, replying, "I would perhaps doubt it," he replies, "But it would seem wisest to arm ourselves against as many possibilities as we can," he says, "I fear that one failed attempt will not stop a second, and who knows what method they will choose. Blades in the night we're well-equipped to repel already. These more subtle means…." He shakes his head, and then asks, "Do any of these have signs that might be caught before ingesting? Like the mint scent you mentioned with the pennyroyal."
"Aye." Josse smiles wryly. "My Lord sees why tasters are paid so well…there are hundreds of poisons around us every day. I could certainly teach my Lord of the most common but it would hardly scratch the surface. The best way to guard is simply to know squarely where one's food and drink is coming from, if you understand."
Anton nods, lips twisting slightly, "Aye, that I can," he replies, and nods once more, "Of course, paying close attention will be the best defense. But perhaps some basic information, if you are able to spare the time. I am told you are something of an expert on local herbs and plants?"
"I try to keep up my studies on the topic, my Lord," Josse nods to that. "My training in the care of wounds is much more advanced, but one always has other things to worry about than torn flesh. Many times it's as simple as someone putting the wrong herb into their stews and ending up ill. Were it always so innocent." His lips thin slightly. "I would be glad to visit my Lord in the coming days and be certain you depart with more knowledge than you came with, if it please you."
"A useful man to know," Anton says, his lips curving slightly. "Tell me," he says, with the air of a change of topic, "Ser Revyn Terrick, he is well? I assume it must have been you to see to him after the melee. I rather feared he might have taken some real damage after suffering so many early blows."
"Actually, I was not the one to see him after, my Lord. I am not sure who did, but the Terricks did not call for me and so I did not ask." Josse shrugs one shoulder. "I haven't seen him since. Though I am certain if he were in need of more attention, Ser Jarod or Young Lord Jaremy would have sent word. I expect he's doing fine." His half-smile is slight, tugging up the right side of his face. "If I may say, you were…fearsome in that melee."
"Ah, I see," Anton nods, "Well, I am sure he is well or, as you said, someone might have heard." He nods again, and lifts a hand to scratch his jaw, chuckling softly at Josse's words. "Thank you," he replies, "I was pleased for the opportunity. Your friend Ser Rivers held his own well."
Josse smiles more at that. "I could thank you on his behalf but I'm certain he'd whine about it for days. He would be glad to hear it from you, no doubt." He pauses, his voice gaining a slightly more serious tinge. "Ser Gedeon had made mention of the Trident last night. Were you…also there, my Lord?"
Anton chuckles and nods, "Well, I will tell him again should I see him." At the more serious question, one dark brow arches slightly, and he nods. "I was," he confirms, "I fought with the Mallister host that day. My father was in service to them at the time."
Josse nods slowly. As it goes so often, the septon's personal opinion on the matter is shrouded. But he does make the comment: "I was there, myself. First time dressing battle wounds. Would that it would be the last, but I am not naive enough to believe such a thing." He clears his throat softly. "I should check on Ser Gedeon, my Lord. But I shall see you both soon, undoubtedly." He offers the lord a smile and a polite bow of head and shoulders.
Anton nods to Josse, "Something to hope for, perhaps," he offers, "But not expect." He rises as the septon mentions checking on Gedeon and nods, "I am sure you will, yes. I will look forward to that. Thank you again for your care of Gedeon. Please do let me know immediately should his condition change. I will be back later." He smiles politely, inclining his head in turn, and exiting.