For all you're dismissing the idea that you're a hitman, 'everything in its right place' definitely seems like the kind of mantra a hitman would have. Also a chef, come to think of it, but I haven't yet worked out what an undercover chef would be up to....
Everything in its right place The car waiting for Lord Derby was parked outside the main doors of Theophrastus Hall. As Ernest walked briskly down the honey-coloured stone steps that gave access to the Hall from the gravel-covered ground a young man in a chauffeur's uniform got out of the driver's seat and walked unhurriedly round the car. His timing was perfect; he was opening the rear passenger door just as Ernest reached the car. "I'll ride up front, if you don't mind," said Ernest. "It's been a while since I've seen you, Samual." Samual blushed, and started to stutter an apology, closing the door and scurrying around Lord Derby to open the front door. He came to a halt as Ernest opened the door himself and got in, and resorted to closing the door for him. When he sat back down in the driver's seat he was sweating. "Good grief," said Ernest. "What have I done? I'm sure even your mother doesn't get this kind of reaction from you." "She's dead," said Samual, starting the car. Then his words reached his ears and he turned such a deep shade of crimson that Ernest started looking for the subtle signs of an impending heart attack. "I mean, she died a while back. It wasn't recent. Not that I didn't love her! But-" "Samual." The young man subsided, and concentrated on driving the car. The gravel crunched quietly under the tyres, and the car slowly accelerated down the long drive that led to the gate of Theophrastus Hall. From there they turned onto a narrow road that eventually delivered them to a wider, two-lane carriageway, and then onto the major road leading into London. "Samual," said Lord Derby at last, gauging that the young man was calm again. "We worked together for at least a month last year. What on earth has happened that you're treating me like some kind of legend again? And think before you speak, don't just spit out the first jumble of words that come into your head." There was a pause, and then, "Lord Ashby instructed me to read up on your case history, milord," "Ashby's an ass," said Ernest mildly. Samual snorted with laughter, and then looked horrified at himself. "Very well, and what did you learn from following the Lord Martial's instructions?" "That... that you're even more impr-- remarkable than people say," said Samual. "There's a book, it's called Everything in its right place, and it just goes through your presentation of the Hull Conspiracy and... it's just amazing! I can't imagine anyone being able to think like that, let alone do it while being hunted across frozen moorland by Dragonriders." "Things always sound better when the bards get hold of them," said Ernest. "We have a half-hour still I think. Shall I tell you what it was really like? At the risk of revealing my feet of clay?"
3 comments:
For all you're dismissing the idea that you're a hitman, 'everything in its right place' definitely seems like the kind of mantra a hitman would have.
Also a chef, come to think of it, but I haven't yet worked out what an undercover chef would be up to....
Everything in its right place
The car waiting for Lord Derby was parked outside the main doors of Theophrastus Hall. As Ernest walked briskly down the honey-coloured stone steps that gave access to the Hall from the gravel-covered ground a young man in a chauffeur's uniform got out of the driver's seat and walked unhurriedly round the car. His timing was perfect; he was opening the rear passenger door just as Ernest reached the car.
"I'll ride up front, if you don't mind," said Ernest. "It's been a while since I've seen you, Samual."
Samual blushed, and started to stutter an apology, closing the door and scurrying around Lord Derby to open the front door. He came to a halt as Ernest opened the door himself and got in, and resorted to closing the door for him. When he sat back down in the driver's seat he was sweating.
"Good grief," said Ernest. "What have I done? I'm sure even your mother doesn't get this kind of reaction from you."
"She's dead," said Samual, starting the car. Then his words reached his ears and he turned such a deep shade of crimson that Ernest started looking for the subtle signs of an impending heart attack. "I mean, she died a while back. It wasn't recent. Not that I didn't love her! But-"
"Samual."
The young man subsided, and concentrated on driving the car. The gravel crunched quietly under the tyres, and the car slowly accelerated down the long drive that led to the gate of Theophrastus Hall. From there they turned onto a narrow road that eventually delivered them to a wider, two-lane carriageway, and then onto the major road leading into London.
"Samual," said Lord Derby at last, gauging that the young man was calm again. "We worked together for at least a month last year. What on earth has happened that you're treating me like some kind of legend again? And think before you speak, don't just spit out the first jumble of words that come into your head."
There was a pause, and then, "Lord Ashby instructed me to read up on your case history, milord,"
"Ashby's an ass," said Ernest mildly. Samual snorted with laughter, and then looked horrified at himself. "Very well, and what did you learn from following the Lord Martial's instructions?"
"That... that you're even more impr-- remarkable than people say," said Samual. "There's a book, it's called Everything in its right place, and it just goes through your presentation of the Hull Conspiracy and... it's just amazing! I can't imagine anyone being able to think like that, let alone do it while being hunted across frozen moorland by Dragonriders."
"Things always sound better when the bards get hold of them," said Ernest. "We have a half-hour still I think. Shall I tell you what it was really like? At the risk of revealing my feet of clay?"
Don't move a thing
I just got it arranged
Really, no, just look with your eyes
Crash!
Greg - I suppose I'm not doing much to discourage your theory, am I?
Ah, good to have Samual back :D
Morganna - heh, a house with kids, perfectly described...
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