When the order for leave among the crew was given, Beau Bergeron wasted no time following his captain off the boat. If the cards were to change hands, he needed to know about it. As well, the opportunity to see this Jeneyeru would be a necessity should the cards move.
He followed along Jean Lafitte’s footsteps through the cobblestone streets. Staying just out of sight of both the captain, and the occasional grey coated security wasn’t difficult due to the throngs of people enjoying the festivities, the crew of La Danse Calinda seemingly having arrived at some sort of festival. The tone and imagery reminded him much of the Mardi Gras of his home land, and he briefly wondered whether Aeldreth had its own version of carnival.
For a brief time, his mind wandered back to the last carnival celebration he’d attended in the streets of New Orleans. It was one of the few times the Guilds’ bosses showed their friendlier sides. His family, the Bergerons of the Assassins Guild, had always maintained their own participation through the Krewe of Dionysus, their float known for throwing small bottles of wine for the revelers to enjoy. He and William Hebert had been co-regents the last time he’d participated.
Beau could remember it like it was yesterday, as he weaved in and out of the various masked participants visiting the carts and shops along the sidewalks. He could smell the decay of the Vieux Carré, taste the fine wine from one of the bottles as he and Hebert rode atop their jester festooned float. Hebert had his hand on the shoulder of Beau. “Whatever your family needs, mon ami, je suis là”, he had said.
Lying bastard, Beau thought, if a cowardly shot to the back of the head didn’t do me in, nothing will, and the image was replaced by one of him holding the magic card. At his whim Hebert’s hand left his shoulder and clutched his heart. Suffering and in pain, Beau smiled.
Beau’s smile was broken, however, in the here and now as he nearly careened into an armed man holding a pike.
“Halt! Do you have business here at the Embassy, sir?” the man asked. The light seemed to shimmer off of his blue sash and gold buttons festooned to his red coat. Guard, Beau thought, this one seemed different than the grey variety he’d passed by in the streets. He’d been so lost in his thoughts of revenge that he’d nearly given away his position. Stupid, and he made a mental note not to let such blind daydreaming happen again.
“Ah, no, I’m sorry my good sir, I do not. My apologies, I’m new in town,” he said with a deep bow. The guard regarded him with a suspicious raising of his eyebrows, but merely shrugged at the flattering gestures and seemed to figure Beau not worth the trouble and he quickly moved away in lock step towards the arched entry-way with yet another guard, this one dressed in green and gold. Paranoid bunch, he thought, a lot of guards out. It was then that Beau realized he was being stared at by a good deal many of the revelers. Not obviously so, but perceptibly, as if the crowd were avoiding seeming rude.
He must indeed have looked out of place to the ordinary goings on, neither dressed in the latest fashions, nor in costume for the festival. Making his way down a side alley by the embassy and over to a cart, he decided to purchase one of the various styles of mask enjoyed by the populace. The design wasn’t quite unlike the ones of his own home, save for the fact that these were much sturdier built and bejeweled with real gems. Beau however had neither the money nor the desire for one of the fancier ones and instead chose a plain black full mask with a single white tear descending from the left eye. Beau smiled as he figured it was rather fitting. Could come in handy, he thought, and placed it upon his face as he continued down the alley, figuring he’d try an entrance towards the back. It wasn’t long, however before he was brought up short, the alley coming to a dead end at the canals.