The wind was cool as it rolled in off the sea, taking away some of the sweltering summer heat.<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FMarseille&amp;hash=3608af456c52b94d7c4c53516d68bcca" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marseille" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Arisent</a>had been enduring or enjoying, depending on one's point of view, the longest summer that anyone could remember.<br/><br/><a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fimg.buzzfeed.com%2Fbuzzfeed-static%2Fstatic%2F2014-02%2Fenhanced%2Fwebdr07%2F13%2F22%2Fanigif_enhanced-buzz-24998-1392349850-4.gif&amp;hash=5c69be84a8cd8cf1d510ad0fa6642399" href="https://img.buzzfeed.com/buzzfeed-static/static/2014-02/enhanced/webdr07/13/22/anigif_enhanced-buzz-24998-1392349850-4.gif" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Étienne</a>was walking hurriedly down the white-bricked harbour promenade, doing his best to look nonchalant - to not look like he'd noticed the shifty-looking cove in far too much armour and leather for a hot day like today. Well, too much if one didn't want to smell like the inside of a Turk's loincloth.<br/><br/><i>And those two over there are... yes. Starting to follow me</i>.<br/><br/>He wasn't entirely sure what it was that had people so interested in him. He thought he'd tipped reasonably well at the tavern, but not enough to make it look like he was a merchant in need of the unofficial harbour tax. The<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.lutel-handicraft.com%2Ffiles%2Fproducts%2FLutel_rapier_14003Cw.jpg&amp;hash=54cca22fb65e279adbddcc3a4d16f626" href="http://www.lutel-handicraft.com/files/products/Lutel_rapier_14003Cw.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">sword </a>at his hip wasn't overly ornate like that of a dandy; it looked practical and sensible with just a touch of ostentation - the kind of blade that someone who knew how to use one would carry.<br/><br/><i>Well, that meant only one thing.<br/>
</i><br/>He turned sharply into an alleyway that he hoped wasn't a dead-end. Every door on the<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=http%3A%2F%2Fc8.alamy.com%2Fcomp%2FKDWCJA%2Fthe-renaissance-town-of-urbino-marche-italy-a-view-of-the-ducale-palace-KDWCJA.jpg&amp;hash=63254ddca110f71fab95fef784721c6a" href="http://c8.alamy.com/comp/KDWCJA/the-renaissance-town-of-urbino-marche-italy-a-view-of-the-ducale-palace-KDWCJA.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">narrow way</a>seemed open; people desperate to let at least try and get the sluggish hot air to flow.<br/><br/><i>Well, this had been a mistake<br/>
</i><br/>The three had stopped and were talking and... had broken into a run and had drawn clubs. Now, clubs was good - it meant they wanted him alive. Clubs was also bad because it meant violence was increasingly likely. And on a full stomach too.<br/><br/>The path dipped down follow the curve of some long-built-over hill, and crumbling arch from some historic civilisation that his governess would belt him for forgetting look to be juuuust in range of a desperate leap. Yes. Fingers clawed at the hot brickwork and he pulled himself up into the temporary safety of whatever this place was. From the look of it one of the walkways associated with the convent. Time to leave before a mother superior found him and beat him with a ruler.<br/><br/>More climbing, and onto the roof. And there was nowhere else to go from up here. The bulk of the convent on one side, and slums on the other. Well, if Lady Luck was watching, she'd probably rather he didn't disturb the good sisters.<br/><br/>A desperate leap and he crashed into what looked like a bedroom. He looked up at the woman sat on the edge of the bed:<br/><br/>"Please, you have to help me. Can you hide me somewhere?"