The bishop and his two minions stand on the threshold of Schrote cathedral. In front of them is a scene of chaos. Local townsfolk run hither and thither, torn between the fear that unknown enemy raiders might burn the town down, and the hope that unknown enemy raiders might burn the town down. Gelderland guardsmen run around in panic; which is to say, as progeny of the landed nobility, they are running around looking for social inferiors to panic on their behalf.
The bishop points to the distant sky. Black smoke arises from the west, a sure sign that portions of Schrote have been looted and pillaged by enemy interlopers; or that locals have tried baking some pies; or that enemy interlopers, more creative than your average looters and pillagers, have instead tried to bake some pies.
'Things aren't going well' continues the bishop. 'The Bachscuttlers and Nabstrians should already be here; and yet they still seem to be somewhere around Hanau-Brancau, burning local houses'.
'Because', continues Baldwin, 'If the raiding force don't get emperor George, then I'm going to be up to my ears in Jesuit Inquisitors'.
Friar Conviction nods sympathetically. 'Holiness, That's surely more spanish than any sane man can take'.
'Oh, the Spanish Inquisition doesn't speak spanish'.
'They don't speak spanish, Holiness? Then how do they question suspects?'
'Oh, they don't question suspects - that slows the process down. They don't need to question "suspects", because they don't have "suspects" either: there's just "the condemned'"'.
'That seems unfair', says Friar Conviction.
'Yes, but it is very efficient, and it cuts down on the paperwork: except, of course, the paper that they use for kindling. There's lots of that'.
'Things aren't going well' continues the bishop. 'The Bachscuttlers and Nabstrians should already be here; and yet they still seem to be somewhere around Hanau-Brancau, burning local houses'.
'They might be making pies', suggests Friar Knowledge.
'No sane raiding force is going to stop and make pies', says the bishop. He pauses briefly to think. 'Which, yes, to be fair means that the Bachscuttlers could theoretically indeed be making pies. But whatever; one of you two needs to get themselves ready to hunt down the emperor and send his whereabouts to the Bachscuttel raiders'.
'Because', continues Baldwin, 'If the raiding force don't get emperor George, then I'm going to be up to my ears in Jesuit Inquisitors'.
Friar Conviction nods sympathetically. 'Holiness, That's surely more spanish than any sane man can take'.
'Oh, the Spanish Inquisition doesn't speak spanish'.
'They don't speak spanish, Holiness? Then how do they question suspects?'
'Oh, they don't question suspects - that slows the process down. They don't need to question "suspects", because they don't have "suspects" either: there's just "the condemned'"'.
'That seems unfair', says Friar Conviction.
'Yes, but it is very efficient, and it cuts down on the paperwork: except, of course, the paper that they use for kindling. There's lots of that'.
Your Holiness!', says Friar Knowledge, 'I am ready! I shall track down the emperor!'
'A kind offer, but no: you cannot be trusted: I have already seen your negligence, Friar Knowledge!'
'But I don't own any ladies' undergarments!' replies the fiar, rather too quickly. 'I mean, Your Holiness, I wouldn't know what a lady wears under her outer things. Not at all. No. Never'.
'Negligence, friar', says the bishop raising an eyebrow, 'not negligee'.
'Although', says Friar Conviction, who is clearly in a philosophical mood, 'hypothetically, it would surely be possible to be negligent with a negligee'.
'Indeed', replies Baldwin, looking pointedly at Friar Knowldege. 'One could, for example, leave it lying around in the cathedral library. Hypothetically. But anyway. You, Friar Conviction, must use your intuition and wiles - and by that I mean your big hammer - to get the information that I need! So go! And quickly - the commander of the guard company has already sent a messenger pigeon calling for Gelderland reinforcements!'
'What will happen when the bird gets there?'
'But I don't own any ladies' undergarments!' replies the fiar, rather too quickly. 'I mean, Your Holiness, I wouldn't know what a lady wears under her outer things. Not at all. No. Never'.
'Negligence, friar', says the bishop raising an eyebrow, 'not negligee'.
'Although', says Friar Conviction, who is clearly in a philosophical mood, 'hypothetically, it would surely be possible to be negligent with a negligee'.
'Indeed', replies Baldwin, looking pointedly at Friar Knowldege. 'One could, for example, leave it lying around in the cathedral library. Hypothetically. But anyway. You, Friar Conviction, must use your intuition and wiles - and by that I mean your big hammer - to get the information that I need! So go! And quickly - the commander of the guard company has already sent a messenger pigeon calling for Gelderland reinforcements!'
'What will happen when the bird gets there?'
'Well, if we're lucky, the Gelderland recipients will just eat it. But things are looking tricky: if the Nabstrians and Bachscuttlers don't get a move on soon, then things for us here are going to get stickier than a bear in a hot honey bath!'
'That's quite sticky', acknowledges Friar Knowledge ruefully.
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