The Trail To Tower (April 17, morning)

[Kane Graas]

Tower of London

A large castle with numerous famous towers that once formed the very attraction of the city of London and still does not go by unnoticed. The walls are 15 feet thick and nearly stands nearly 100 feet high in some places. Built by William the Conquerer and expanded by his descendants, the grounds include a chapel, a great hall and the Royal menagerie. The focal point is the White Tower or the keep proper, that officially still is a residence of the King although he prefers Whitehall Palace.

Many stories are attached to the Tower, not a few of them ending in mysteries and the supernatural. Like all of London the Tower has its shares of ghosts and apperations. It only builds on the buildings gruesome reputation.

Under Charles II this is the political prison of choice, with Tower Hill close by serving as a place of execution. Men were drawn and quartered. Ladies more modestly burned at the stake. The sherrif of the Tower held great responsibility.

Riding up to it, one is greeted by massive gates which are guarded by the Kings Guards on either side. They wear the original blue red costume of the guard and are not known for their humor, being sharply trained to protect the Royal Family.

Currently, the Tower houses a few royal prisoners, the Office of Ordnance and the Crown Jewels.


With the restoration of Charles II in 1660, the Tower has been thrown open to the paying public allowing them to marvel at new displays set up to celebrate the power and splendour of the restored English monarchy.

Kane’s eyes followed the boat – considering how deep in the water it sat he guessed there were goods of some sort packed into the boat – almost jealously as it sailed past him and away from the Tower. He would be glad once his business in the Tower was over and done with and he would be leaving it behind himself as well.

Turning Kane eyed the large stone building and suppressed a sigh. He didn’t want to go there, but if he wanted to learn if his Daddy-dearest had had his head chopped off or not he had to visit the Tower. God, he hoped the man had been quartered.

Figuring that he might as well get it over with Kane didn’t stall any further and headed for the Tower. He was going to be at his best behaviour during the entire visit, although he had had made sure to take along some more money than he usually carried on his person.

“Mornin’, sir,” Kane greeted politely as he approached the man that seemed to be most likely person one would approach to pay the admission fee. “Say, might you be the right person to ask for direction? I'm looking for the archives for the Tower.”

[Fluff]

The King Guards or Yeomen wore different uniforms than the Life Guards, for they dated back to the time of Henry VIII. Two such men guarded the entrance, with a wooden box to put the admission fee in next to them. The left Yeomen answered Kane "The archives are not public sir, but you might gain permission from the constable of the Tower. He has his office on the groundfloor at the Tower Green, right up at the Bell tower. Most of our visitors come for the menagerie though. Might not want to skip seeing it."

[Kane Graas]

The uniform might be old and historical but it still represented power and authority and law. Kane was a good boy now – more-or-less anyway – but old instincts telling him to avoid soldiers had never really died.

“Well, if I’m already here I might as well ask and see the menagerie as you suggested,” Kane responded, his tone far lighter than his mood was. But here and now Kane used every bit of self-control that he had to look as innocent and carefree as he could. Perhaps it was a good thing he had a rendezvous with Frances later today, because he’d need to relax after this.

“Hope the weather’ll stay agreeable and you two won’t get caught in the rain,” Kane told the yeomen as he dropped the admission fee into the wooden box. “Where exactly is Tower Green? That way?” Kane specified the directions before moving to enter the Tower. Upon reaching what he believed to be the correct tower, Kane exhaled slowly, before raising his hand to knock on the door.

[Fluff]

It took a while for the door to be answered. Finally Kane heard soft pitter patter on the stones in the hallway. A lady, wearing a matron like cap, opened the door, her grey eyes looking in surprise at the gentleman caller. "Ah, yes, I am afraid that my husband is out for a moment. I do not know when he will return, but you are welcome to wait."

She stepped back a little "I have the kettle on in the kitchen, if you care for something warm."

[Kane Graas]

Kane hadn't been entirely sure he had arrived at the right tower in the Tower so he had been about to adventure on when the the woman finally answered the door. "I hope I didn't interrupt you, my lady," Kane said politely with a small apologetic bow. "Presuming your husband is the archive keeper, I am looking for him," Kane specified even as he stepped in. He himself wouldn't - voluntarily or not - want to live in the Tower, but he'd appreciate some company right now.

"That sounds lovely, if it's not too much trouble. But do not let me keep you, if you have something to do," Kane said, ready to trail to the kitchen after the woman after a precursory glance around. "You do have a nice place here though," he complimented, although he would have appreciated the Tower walls more from outside. Who was he kidding, Kane would never appreciate the Tower; there was too much crook in him for that.

[Fluff]

The woman busied herself with instructing her maid to assist her with the fire, while she put the kettle on. "Come, sit here at the table. I have some sandwiches to go with that. I have prepared a few because I expect my husband home any moment now. What business did you say you had with him? Keeper of the archives?"

She sat down, briefly pushing a few black grey curls out of her face and back under white cap. "I have heard his work called a lot of things, but not archivist. Still it is part of his job, it is true. Very few consult the tower archives however." The matron tipped her head to the left "Why would you be wanting the archives then, mister..." it was then she realized that in her forgetfulness she had not even introduced herself "I do beg your pardon. I am mrs. Warton, and you are?"

[Kane Graas]

You always felt like a loved child that had just returned home if you were sat down in a kitchen and offered tea and refreshment. Even Kane – perhaps especially Kane – couldn´t resist the charm of it though. So he meekly took a seat where indicated and offer an honest grin in response to the woman´s introduction of herself: “And I´m enchanted.”

His words were truthful, but probably not quite the introduction mrs. Warton was expecting. Kane didn´t entirely wish to give his name, but what other choice did he have? “Kane Graas, m´lady,” he introduced himself with a tilt of his head.

“I suppose there aren´t too many people interested in browsing the archives. A lady –” his mother hadn´t really been a lady but she had at least had the gender right “- asked me to check the records to see if a man who had done her a great disservice had been executed,” Kane gave the honest, if somewhat modified, answer. He couldn´t really get the answers he needed if he didn´t ask for them after all. But, odd´s fish, he hoped to learn his daddy dearest had been executed.

[Fluff]

"Delighted to meet you, master Gaas," mrs Warton smiled, as she poured some of the hot water into the teapot, steering the leaves for good measure. She put down a plate of cucumber sandwiches and put down two cups, sitting at the table as well.

"There now, you are a gentleman, aren't you master Gaas, caring about a lady's distress," the officer's wife approved as she poured him a cup of tea over a tiny sieve to keep the leaves out of the brew "Do take a sandwich, don't be shy."

She picked up her cup and took a careful sip, before adding "They do most of their executing on Tower Hill of course. Only them nobles are executed here inside the Tower. All of them though go into the sherrif's archives, which is what my husband maintains, but in separate sections. Any idea if the man you were looking for was a commoner? I wouldn't be at all surprised if he was a noble. If you read in the newspapers what they get up to at court. Why, ladies tend to get into trouble don't they?"

[Kane Graas]

Kane grinned happily as Mrs Warton took a seat at the table as well. He was glad to have the company, for it would help distract his mind from the simple fact that he was having tea and cucumber sandwiches inside the Tower. Her referral to him as a gentleman made him raise his teacup to hide his ironic smirk, but instead of commenting he took a sandwich with a grateful nod. It was a lot easier to be thought ofa gentleman.

“I believe the man was a minor noble with Irish background. I do know his name and coat-of-arms, so I’m hopeful to find the answers without too much of a fuss,” Kane mulled although he had no idea in what sort of an order the archives were. Well, it didn’t matter. He’d be ready to pay the man to find the information for him, because Kane couldn’t read any of it himself anyway.

“My grandma did always say that the man, who is always talking about being a gentleman, never is one,” Kane inserted agreeingly. He had never known his grandmother of course, but that only made it easier to put whatever words or phrases that fit the occasion into her mouth. A quirk of his he occasionally enjoyed indulging in. “It does sometimes seem as if half of the courtiers are just misbehaved children,” he agreed. Kane with his 28, nearly 29, years was far from being old himself, but he liked to tell himself he had far more common sense than the majority of gentry.

“There does seem to be a lot of trouble underfoot, especially with the recent bomb at St Marks. There are all sorts of rumours flying about that one as St Marks was closed for a couple of days,” Kane edged in the latest and juiciest piece of gossip that might interest the officer’s wife.

[Fluff]

"What sort of rumours," the matron inquired while her eyes lit up, suddenly seeing Kane as a source of information when her husband was so tight lipped "I say it was the French, damn Catholics probably tried to get back at somebody. Did you know that last year they executed an Englishman by kidnapping him to French soil first? They say the man stopped some of their intrigues. You can never trust the French. They want to possess England, they do, and give it to the Pope. I heard this preacher, Titus Oats, talk of the dangers of the Catholics. There are Catholic spies everywhere, especially at court. He speaks of a great conspiracy."

As they sat talking the door in the hallway opened. Heavy boots could be heard stamping off the dirt on the mat. "Honey, I am hoooome," a man's voice called, before he abruptly opened the door to the kitchen. "Another one of your strays, Mary?" he inquired of his wife with a chuckle. The constable had a short grey beard and a rotund body. He obviously enjoyed his wife's cooking.

[Kane Graas]

“There are some who say it’s the French,” Kane said, careful to word it so that he himself wouldn’t need to pick a side. Still, the news that the French had kidnapped some Englishman surprised Kane a bit. Where they the same Frenchmen who Darlene had mentioned? “No, I wasn’t in England at the time so I haven’t heard of it. But I wouldn’t have expected such,” he remarked with surprise. It was a brave move, because it might have ruined the relations between the two countries and France already had a war to worry about.

Kane made a mental note of the man Titus Oats, but didn’t remark on the topic of Catholics. He didn’t doubt that the pope would have preferred to keep England Catholic – that’s what Kane would have wanted, had he been the pope – but Kane himself was rather tolerant religion wise. Maybe because he wasn’t very religious, although he didn’t deny that God existed. Kane simply believed that God preferred it when humans handled their problems themselves.

“I was looking for you, Mr Warton,” Kane ventured a guess about the man’s name as he stepped into the kitchen. “But the tea and sandwiches are delicious,” Kane complimented mrs. Warton even as he raised his mug of tea towards her as if in a toast, “So while the matter of being a stray might be debatable, I’m very pleased to have had the chance to meet your wife.”

[Fluff]

"Master Warton, let me introduce master Gaas," the matron smile at her husband "This fine gentleman wants to check if some irish noble was executed." Her voice lowered "He's done a lady great disservice, don't you know. I rather hope we got him... with a dull axe."

The Yeoman laughed, his belly shaking goodnaturedly "You are always so bloodthirsty Mary." He gave master Kane a good look "Apart from the good words of Mrs Warton, which I assure you carry a lot of weight with me, what assurances can you give me of your character. I am not about to give any rough from the street access to the archives son. This is the King's business after all."

OOC: overlooked this thread. Thwap me next time I do so!

[Kane Graas]

“Don’t we all,” Kane muttered darkly under his breath at the mention of a dull axe. A dull axe taken to his father sounded rather pleasing. Although something smaller that might have drawn out the agony for longer could have worked too. A spoon or a toothpick or some such.

“Of course,” Kane smiled calmly at the yeoman even as he swallowed a sigh. Why did everyone doubt his sweet nature and reputable background? Just because he had a scar on his face and a looked like a crook, didn’t mean he was one. He was really a rather good boy. Occasionally. “King’s business does need looking after,” Kane remarked with an appreciative grin, “I’m a member of the Royal Exchange so I do know that very well, if that assures you a bit more.” Hopefully the yeoman hadn’t had any bad experiences with merchants lately.

Still, one could always depends on human nature and guilt-tripping and his name was already out there anyway. The Yeoman would undoubtedly notice the similarity between Kane’s last name and his daddy’s. “This is a rather sensitive and personal matter,” Kane wrapped a hand around his mug, peering thoughtfully at the drink, “You see, the woman who suffered by this meschant’s hand was my mother. At her death bed I promised her that I would look into this matter.” His mother had actually asked Kane to find his father. What she had expected Kane do after finding him was… debatable.

[Fluff]

"The Royal Exchange," the constable's eyebrows rose before his manner became more solicitous, for now at least he could track down Kane if he had need to "Why that changes the whole issue of course. I shall see what I can do for you."

"Oh dear," mrs Warton worried "The poor thing. However you must know that nobility is seldom punished for roguish behaviour. What will you do when this man is not in the ledgers of the Tower?"

"Tell me master Graas, what was the name of this man?" the constable inquired with sudden interest "He might have made a name for himself. You never know. We hear a lot of things you know, we yeoman." He tapped his nose. The Life Guard might have replaced the old regiment that protected Henry VIII, but they still had their connections and since they were simple folk of London mostly, though of the strictest training, they had a lot of town connections.

[Kane Graas]

Kane smiled wryly as he noted the change in the constable's manner. The seat might yet prove to be useful - although Kane planned to become an active member of the exchange and actually do some work there as well. But it was as he had guessed. People rarely said no to those who had money, and the Royal Exchange could certainly at least influence the flow of money in England.

"If he isn't here?" Kane shrugged. There wasn't much he could do when this trail ran cold. He wasn't even sure where else he could look for more information. "I will trust in God and divine justice." Even if such a result would be so very unsatisfactory. "But I have reason to believe that other than forcing himself on my mother -" that hadn't exactly been the case, as daddy dearest had doubtlessly played for his bit of fun, but it was more useful for Kane to currently word it like that "- he was also an officer of some sort in Cromwell's army. Which brings me here."

Kane grinned. He knew well enough the value of connections. "Good to know there's someone with sense keeping order in good old England," Kane mused, a little flattery never amiss. But it would be interesting to hear if his father had ever made a name of himself. Hopefully he had at least been good at what he did, other than picking the wrong side.

"I believe his name was Asher 'Praise God' Graas." Kane raised his eyes to look at the yeoman. It was a gamble to put the name out there, but now the bid had been placed, the dice had been cast and all he had left to do was to wait and see if Lady Luck would smile at him.

[Fluff]

"A very Puritan name," master Warton observed, rubbing his chin "You might be right about the man being in with Cromwell. Well, if he was an officer there are some other archives we might peruse than just the list of executed prisoners."

Mrs Warton meanwhile raised an eyebrow "So he at least give you his last name, master Graas. Not a complete blackguard then." She implied that his mother must have been married. "An intriguing story for sure."

"Come," Master Warton gestured "To the archives. There is the a mystery to be solved."

[Kane Graas]

“Irish by the looks of it,” Kane supplied, although he had no idea whether or not that bit of information might help find more information about his father. “I refer to your superior knowledge as to which archive might hold the relevant information."

Mrs Warton’s words made Kane freeze for a moment as she made a very reasonable point. He carried his father’s name. Her mother had told him about his father when Kane had been little, but she had never called his father by his name. So how – how? – had she known to give Kane his father’s name? Was it just an odd coincidence? Had her mother known more than Kane had thought previously? Had his father happened onto her mother again and realised she was pregnant and told her what to call the child? Had they joked about possible names during their bit of fun together and nine months later his mother had chosen what to name Kane by recalling that? Or were there more shadows and secrets laying in Kane’s past than even he had known?

Realising that he was working himself towards a nervous breakdown, Kane exhaled and managed to send a feeble smile to mrs Warton. “You’re right. Thank you for the tea and company, my lady.” Standing Kane moved to follow the Yeoman to the archives to see what could be unearthed about his past. “A mystery indeed. I don’t really need to see the documents in the archives myself, but I’m truly grateful to you for sparing the time to looking into the matter.” Of course, being illiterate Kane wouldn’t understand any of the documents in the archives on his own anyway.

[Fluff]

"Come Master Graas," the constable gestured and they moved over the terrain of the Tower, which was rather extensive for such a defensible fortress of medieval origin. "We keep the archives in the tower proper, in the cellar," the man apologized as they walked.

Master Warton took them downstairs, where some natural light still reached through high up windows. Stacks and stacks of boxes as well as more old fashioned rolls of parchment. There was a scent of dust and damp paper in the air, a certain stale smell, disgusting to most and irresistible to archivist and chronologists. The constable went right at work, pulling at several boxes from a closet before exclaiming "Ah!" and diving in. He seemed lost in his work for a moment, a little frown of concentration on his forehead. "There, I thought so."

He rose up "Your father, I'm said to say, was not executed here at the Tower. If you wish to be absolutely certain you need to consult Old Bailey's but I can tell you right now that if he was a noble he would have been executed here, not at Old Bailey's. However...."

He held up a document triumphantly "Here I have mention of your father. It seems he was one of the higher up officers in Cromwell's new model army, but there is no record of promotion or demotion after the Restoration. It seems there is still a search warrant outstanding. Now when do you say he has been in contact with your mother?"

[Kane Graas]

Kane followed master Warton into the Tower cellars that seemed quite crammed with documents. For a moment Kane wondered if it’d even be possible to find anything in here, but the constable seemed to fight right in. Drawing himself to the side Kane leaned against a relatively stable-looking stack of boxes and attempted to stay out of the way while breathing through his mouth. Not that it helped much as his imagination was working overtime making it feel as if the smell lingering in the air was drawn into his mouth as well where it stuck to his tongue and made it feel bloated and unmovably heavy.

“I fully trust your opinion. A visit to the Old Bailey’s isn’t necessary,” Kane hurried to assure master Warton as he glanced at the document he was holding up. What else could his father have done or not done to deserve mention? Although he supposed that it was light consolation to hear that his father – while having poor judgement in picking sides – had been good at what he did. Still Kane wished his father had been executed a long time ago. It would have made some things so much easier.

“Nearly 29 years ago,” Kane responded honestly, for the truth didn’t reveal anything compromising. “To my knowledge he had nothing more to do with my mother after my birth. I’ve never met the man face-to-face in my life.” Kane paused to think for a moment, scouring his memory to see if there’d be anything of use he could recall. Except he didn’t know practically anything about his father and perhaps also knew less about his mother than he had previously thought. “I was born – and my mother lived until her death – in Buckinghamshire,” Kane said out loud, “Although I don’t know if that fact has any importance in the current situation.”

[Fluff]

"I see," nodded Constable Warton "Well, in this document your father is listed as a general. I would venture a guess that after the Restoration he would have to go in hiding, possibly on foreign shores like in the Republic. Leiden, with its well known university and theology department, has been known to give shelter to a lot of Puritans. His name suggests a Puritan and so he would not likely have been pardoned by the King, nor do I find anything on record about that."

Giving Kane a kind smile he added "He might even have married your mother you know, but been unable to be with her. Though for that he's been gone a little too long, I do admit." The Restoration was 26 years ago, though in the years before things were already hectic for true Puritans and many had fled.

He handed Kane the document so he could see for himself. Most of it was in Latin. Warton was unaware that Kane would not be able to read it no matter the language the text was in.

[Kane Graas]

“General?” Kane repeated with surprise, his unscarred eyebrow flying upwards. It was rather more than he would have expected from Daddy Dearest, but at least his father hopefully hadn’t been a complete imbecile in that case. That was surprisingly relieving to hear. Catching himself, Kane listened attentively to what the constable said, nodding slowly as he finished. “You’re probably right,” Kane agreed with the Constable, although he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of such a development.

He had been prepared to learn that his father was dead but he hadn’t though what’d happen if his father was still alive but living somewhere abroad. Leiden. He didn’t have any acquaintances here nor did he directly trade with the Dutch. Perhaps he could ask some friends who traded with the Dutch though. Or maybe send an inquiry to the Leiden university when some ship-captain friend of his was sailing that way. At least it didn’t look as if he could do much else. Perhaps the information hadn't quite settled in yet, as Kane took the news surprisingly calmly.

“Doubt it,” Kane aid absently on the topic of her mother, although he didn’t specify it. “I do wish I knew what the man looked like though,” he mused absently, suddenly wondering if he looked like his father. Had his father had the same hair, the same eyes – well, his mother had had brown eyes and brown hair so that he probably had in common with his father – the same sharp slant of cheekbones and build?

“I’m certain you got the gist of it,” Kane said, shaking his head to show that he didn’t need to see the document. “But I’m truly grateful for your help. These archives and your knowledge has been invaluable for me and I would be happy to make sure others can benefit from them as well.” It was a subtle offer for money although Kane made a mental note to send the Wartons a bottle or two of fine wine if the Constable would turn down the money.

[Fluff]

"Rest assured it was free of charge, part of our service. However, if you leave a donation, sir, I will ensure it goes to the yeoman pensioners, currently located in Chelsea," the constable smiled, "We like to take care of our own." He took care archiving the document again and putting back to box where it belonged.

"Is there anything else I can help you with sir?" he wondered.

[Kane Graas]

“I’ll certainly keep it mind. I actually received the suggestion to check the archives in the Tower from there,” Kane responded with a light grin. He still held no love for uniformed men, but at least the visit had served its purpose. He wasn’t entirely sure what he’d do with the information he had gathered, but having information was always a boon.

“No, I believe I already learned more than I could have hoped for. I’m deeply grateful for your help but I won’t take up more of your time,” Kane said, bowing lightly before bidding farewell to leave the Tower behind himself.


OOC: ~Fin I believe? And thank you! *pounces and hugs*

[Fluff]

"You are welcome," constable Warton smiled and then returned to his own home to have tea with his wife, who was all aflutter over that nice young man.

OOC: yes