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      Marion was enjoying her morning teaching the infant class 
        at the Estate School. She always enjoyed those mornings. The youngsters 
        were so receptive to everything she taught them. They had spent the first 
        half of the morning building a model of the Dawn Treader from the story 
        she was reading to them. Sailing ships with rigging and masts and canvas 
        had never been a part of Gallifreyan history, but such was their ability 
        to take in new images and new concepts that they created a beautiful replica 
        of the ship from cardboard and paper and pieces of stick and placed it 
        on a blue paper sea.  
      
        “How can that world be flat?” a boy called Callen asked her. 
        “Planets have to be spheres. There is no other logical way for them 
        to be.” 
      
        “Narnia is magical,” Marion answered. “Magic is stronger 
        than logic.” The boy was puzzled. Marion knew he was trying to decide 
        if he believed in magic. At that age she would have been having trouble 
        with words like ‘sphere’ and ‘logic’. But Gallifreyan 
        children were different in that way.  
      
        She probably knew at the age of seven that the world was round and that 
        the stars were other suns a long way off. She must have seen pictures 
        of Earth from space on television. But all the same, she had no trouble 
        believing in Narnia. She still believed in it, even though she had a wardrobe 
        of her own that took her to other worlds. She hoped the children, with 
        their heads filled with logical facts could also believe in it. They needed 
        something to colour in their imagination, otherwise they would be nothing 
        more than little organic computers full of data.  
      
        Anyway, they all seemed happy creating their cardboard ship on its paper 
        sea. After that they had a maths lesson in which they were calculating 
        the volumes of spheres, cones and other solids. Marion knew for sure she 
        didn’t do that when she was seven. And even when she did, she didn’t 
        do it in her head as rapidly as these children wrote the answers to the 
        problems on their electronic writing tablets. They got through hundreds 
        of difficult sums in the hour set aside for that discipline. Marion didn’t 
        have to mark them. The tablets automatically registered a right or wrong 
        answer with a distinctive bleep. The air filled with the sound of ‘right’ 
        answers as she planned what they would do in the last hour before lunchtime. 
         
      
        Except she never got to teach that last hour. Just as the children were 
        putting away their tablets at the end of the maths lesson the door opened. 
        The headmistress came in, followed by Gallis Limmon, her personal chauffer 
        when she didn’t drive herself, and with him, a dozen Chancellery 
        Guards in their absurd uniforms. All were carrying weapons. Even Gallis 
        was wearing a sidearm in a hip holster.  
      
        “Guns in a schoolroom?” Marion protested as the Guards spread 
        out, some of them taking up positions by the window. “Really, what 
        is the meaning of this?”  
      
        “Your Ladyship,” The sergeant in charge of the Guards bowed 
        to her reverently. “I apologise for the unseemly interruption. But 
        we have orders to escort you to your home. You must come at once. There 
        have been… developments. Your husband, Lord de Lœngbærrow has 
        requested that you are made safe.” 
      
        “Made safe?” Marion laughed nervously. “I am not a bomb 
        about to go off. What is happening?”  
      
        “Madam…” the headmistress stepped forward. “I 
        think it would be better for the children if you went with them now, without 
        any fuss. I will take over the lessons.” 
      
        Marion looked around. She didn’t want to leave the children like 
        this. They didn’t want her to go. One of the girls, Rowetta, left 
        her seat, despite the presence of the headmistress and of so many strangers, 
        and came to hug her. Some of the others did the same. Marion held them 
        all tightly and tried to hold back her tears.  
      
        “I will see you all next time,” she promised. “Do your 
        lessons nice and quietly for Madam Malcuss. I’ll finish the story 
        with you when I come back.” She stood and looked around. Gallis 
        had picked up her coat and hat. She put a few things into her handbag 
        and then she was ready. Gallis took her arm as the Chancellery Guards 
        closed around her protectively. They kept close as she walked out of the 
        school and saw her car already parked outside, with Chancellery Guard 
        cars before and behind it, ready to give escort. Gallis saw her settled 
        in the back seat, with her seatbelt properly fastened and then took up 
        position in the driver’s seat. He wasn’t allowed to set off, 
        though, until he had a signal from the Guards. He drove forward slowly 
        until they began to hover at about six feet above the ground. Then he 
        increased speed rapidly. Marion had never driven her car as fast as this 
        before and she felt a little nervous about that, as well as the fact that 
        they needed an armed escort.  
      
        “Gallis, what is happening?” she asked wearily. “What 
        is this all about?” 
      
        “There has been an incident,” he answered. “That is 
        all I can say. His Lordship expressly forbade me to say anything more. 
        He didn’t wish you to worry, madam.” 
      
        “Kristoph knows perfectly well I would worry less if I knew what 
        was happening.” 
      
        “Not in this case, madam,” Gallis told her. “Please, 
        try not to be anxious. Highly charged emotions from a non-telepath can 
        be a hazard to driving. It makes it hard for me to concentrate.” 
      
        “I’m sorry,” she said to him. She wasn’t sure 
        if that was true or not, but she tried to be calm. She closed her eyes 
        and tried not to feel how fast they were going, or to speculate about 
        what was happening at home.  
      
        She was relieved, anyway, when they finally stopped in front of Mount 
        Lœng House. The Guards again took up positions, but Kristoph was 
        there, coming down the steps to greet her. He hugged her very briefly 
        and then brought her quickly inside the house. Gallis followed with her 
        coat and hat. Marion thanked him for his help. So did Kristoph before 
        he told him he may go to the kitchen and get himself some food and drink. 
         
      
        “Come to the drawing room,” Kristoph said to his wife. “I’ve 
        ordered tea for everyone. And you must be ready for something to eat, 
        too.” 
      
        “I just want to know what’s going on,” Marion answered. 
        “And what do you mean by ‘everyone’?”  
      
        She stepped into the drawing room and saw that it was busy. The anxious 
        conversations ceased as they all turned to look at her. Aineytta and her 
        husband, the former Lord de Lœngbærrow were there. So was his sister, 
        Thedera, Kristoph’s aunt. And Oriana, his sister, who sat primly 
        on an armchair and sipped a glass of sherry. Even Renita was there, in 
        her robe and veil. The veil was partly raised since she was in the presence 
        of her family. Her usually serene face was anxious. 
      
        Thedera had Rodan on her knee, but the child struggled to stand and toddle 
        towards Marion when she saw her. Marion lifted her into her arms and cuddled 
        her. She seemed to have enjoyed the attention from all of the women - 
        except Oriana, of course. But she was pleased to have her foster mother’s 
        hugs, now. Marion sat down with her. A maid brought food for her and she 
        ate a little of it, sharing it with Rodan. But she didn’t feel very 
        hungry. She really needed to know what was happening.  
      
        “What is going on?” she asked. “Please, will somebody 
        tell me?” 
      
        “There has been a murder,” Kristoph said. Everyone else in 
        the room obviously knew that already. They flinched at the word ‘murder’ 
        but it wasn’t an immediate shock to them as it was to her. 
      
        “Who was murdered?” she asked. “And… how…why?” 
      
        “Lady Ravenswode,” Aineytta told her. “In the garden 
        of her home. Early this morning. Her personal maid found her… She…” 
        Aineytta stopped. She swallowed hard. She clearly didn’t want to 
        go into any further detail about how the deed was done. Marion looked 
        around the room. Nobody wanted to say any more. She decided she didn’t 
        need to know.  
      
        “But who would….” She had never liked Lady Ravenswode. 
        Lady Ravenswode didn’t like her. But to hear that she was dead was 
        shocking, still. “She was… an old woman… well… 
        quite old… who would do something like that?”  
      
        “We don’t know for sure,” Kristoph told her. “She 
        was found dead… and there was a message left by the killer. He has 
        threatened the life of another woman of an Oldblood family if his demands 
        are not met.”  
      
        “Oh… my…” Marion looked at her husband in horror. 
      
        “Now you see why I had to bring you home from the school. You were 
        vulnerable there. So were the children as long as you were there with 
        them.”  
      
        “Yes… but…”  
      
        “It was hardly necessary,” Oriana said in a cold voice. “The 
        threat is against women of Oldblood birth. Not an outsider with no true 
        blood in her.” 
      
        “That is not true,” Thedera replied. “The threat was 
        against all women of Oldblood family. Marion is Kristoph’s wife, 
        legally and morally. As such she is threatened just like any of us. I 
        wish it were not so…” 
      
        “I would wish that none of you were at risk,” Kristoph said. 
        “Oriana, for all your pettiness, you are my sister, and my thoughts 
        were for your safety, too. Your husband, feckless as he is, agreed with 
        me that you could best be protected here. But do not add to the difficulties 
        by giving offence to my wife. Conduct yourself as a Lady of Gallifrey, 
        with dignity and fortitude at this time.” 
      
        Oriana said nothing. She sat all the more primly and turned her eyes towards 
        the fireplace, avoiding everyone’s gaze.  
      
        Marion didn’t care about Oriana’s meanness. She was used to 
        that. Her thoughts turned to just how many of her friends were affected 
        by that threat. Lady Arpexia and her daughter, Valena, Calliope Patriclian, 
        Lady Dúccesci and Madam Artexian, who she often met in the Conservatory. 
        Hesthor and Isolatta were of ‘Newblood’ Houses. Did that mean 
        they were safe?” 
      
        “Isolatta is married into a Newblood house,” Kristoph said 
        quietly as he saw her thoughts. “But she is the youngest daughter 
        of Lord Borrusilan. Pól has had her escorted to her family home, 
        to be with her mother and sister. Others have taken the same precautions.” 
      
        “What about….” Marion felt slightly ashamed of herself 
        for not thinking of her dearest friend, first. “Lily… is she…” 
         
      
        “Lily is safe,” Kristoph assured her. He said it in such a 
        way that Marion understood that she was in Liverpool with Li. He couldn’t 
        say any more in front of the others who did not know of the Portal. “I 
        have warned Remonte, too. He has ensured the residence on Ventura is secured. 
        But I think the threat is confined to Gallifrey… for now.” 
      
        “But what is it all about?” Marion asked. “Why would…” 
         
      
        “He calls himself A Son of Gellovia,” the elder Lord de Lœngbærrow 
        said with a note of distaste in his tone. Everyone visibly shuddered. 
         
      
        “Gellovia?” Marion wondered why that name was so upsetting 
        to them all. “It’s… one of the Newblood names, isn’t 
        it? I saw it in one of the history books. With the family crests.” 
      
        “It’s an expunged name, a disgrace to Gallifrey.” To 
        Marion’s surprise, it was Oriana who spoke. “Nobody has borne 
        that name since…”  
      
        “It’s been thousands of years,” Thedera said. “I 
        remember… The trial of Lissandro Harpaindrix Gellovia was one of 
        the darkest times in living memory. I remember my mother being particularly 
        grieved because her brother was the chief Inquisitor who passed sentence.” 
         
      
        “Sweet Mother of Chaos!” Lord de Lœngbærrow exclaimed. 
        “We thought this was a random attack – that Milla Ravenswode 
        was simply unfortunate to be caught unawares. But…”  
      
        Everyone looked at each other. Marion felt there was something she didn’t 
        know.  
      
        “My mother,” Thedera said. “Was Kierinia Ravenswode. 
        She was the eldest daughter of that House when she married my father, 
        Chrístõ Dracœfire. Her brother, the then Ravenswode 
        Heir… prosecuted Gellovia. And now one of his followers has killed 
        the wife of the Ravenswode patriarch. It cannot be coincidence.” 
      
        “And if this fool has studied the family lines closely,” Lord 
        de Lœngbærrow added. “He will realise that, through the line 
        of Chrístõ Dracœfire and Kierinia, I and my sons and 
        daughters are all blood related to Ravenswode.”  
      
        Marion shook her head. It seemed to her that all of the Oldblood Houses 
        were related to each other somewhere. If this man’s grudge went 
        so deep he would want them all dead. 
      
        “I was a young Celestial Intervention Agency operative back then,” 
        Kristoph said. “I was with the party of agents who arrested Gellovia 
        and his followers on Bellaris IV. They had raped and murdered and committed 
        atrocities that civilised men should not be able to stomach. He was brought 
        back for trial, along with those of his adherents who survived the fight 
        to bring him into custody. The trial… the filthy deeds that were 
        revealed… A Gallifreyan, with all the power of a Time Lord, committing 
        acts of savagery against lesser races… It shocked our society to 
        the core. It took a month of daily sessions just to hear the evidence. 
        Of course, he was sentenced to Shada. By Rassilon, I wish he had been 
        executed instead. It would be over and done with. As long as his miserable 
        carcass remains frozen in his cryo-cell, his evil hangs over us. And this 
        is the result. A cult of mindless fools who admire his savagery and wish 
        to emulate him. Milla Ravenswode… was made to suffer before she 
        was killed.”  
      
        “In what way?” Marion asked. But Kristoph shook his head. 
        He wasn’t going to tell her.  
      
        “His demands are unthinkable,” he did say. “Absolutely 
        unthinkable. He wants Gellovia released from Shada and restored to his 
        position in our society. Impossible. But he has promised to kill another 
        woman before dawn tomorrow unless it is done.” 
      
        Marion cuddled Rodan close to her as she listened to this dreadful, chilling 
        tale. Again she thought of her friends who might well be the next target 
        of this madman. She glanced out of the window and saw Chancellery Guards 
        patrolling in the garden. She felt reassured that she was safe within 
        her own home. But what an effort had to be made to ensure that safety. 
        And how long could they be expected to live like this.  
      
        “I want you all to stay here tonight,” Kristoph told his family. 
        “Tomorrow… depending on developments… I don’t 
        know. There is a manhunt going on such as we have not seen in generations. 
        If the one responsible is caught, then we can all sleep easy tonight. 
        But for now… Oriana, your luncheon in the city, your afternoon with 
        Lady Arcalian, dinner with the Chancellor, they are all cancelled. And 
        if missing a dinner party is the worst that happens to you…” 
         
      
        “The worst thing is that somebody we all know has been killed,” 
        Aineytta pointed out. “I don’t think I could go to a dinner 
        party with anyone with that thought in my mind.”  
      
        “We are all frightened,” said Renita, the first words she 
        had said. “Let us take a few minutes in quiet contemplation… 
        let us refresh our souls.” 
      
        She stood and held out her hands as if enveloping them all in her arms. 
        She chanted softly, hypnotically. Marion closed her eyes and felt the 
        warm, quiet, calmness of it wash over her. She felt the anxiety and the 
        horror easing. The feelings didn’t quite go away, but she at least 
        felt she had the strength to cope with them now. 
      
       
        
       
      
      
        
      
      
      
    
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