Queen's Rook – pages 21 to 22

PAGE 21

PANEL 1

Kabul seen from some distance away, in bright sunlight – an establishing shot, so out very wide, perhaps looking down on its roofscapes.

LETTERING:             Captions in a handwriting font.

CAPTION:                 Kabul.  July 8th, 1837.

CAPTION:                 Foreign office sub rosa asset Queen's Rook to post FO19,

under diplomatic seal.

PANEL 2

The courtyard of a major building, whose arches and colonnades are visible in the background.  Ruthven is handing Celia over to a tall, impassive, grim man with a massive scimitar at his waist and a rifle strapped to his back.  She seems perfectly happy with this arrangement: in fact her attention is taken up in talking to a little porcelain doll she's carrying.

CAPTION:                 The weapon was delivered into Shuja Shah's hands this morning, as per instructions.

CAPTION:                 He sends his thanks and highest regards to her majesty.

PANEL 3

A street in Kabul – much more modest than the building we've just seen, but still exotic rather than squalid.  Ruthven oversees the loading of a coffin onto the coach he travelled in: it's being put in the same space under the axles where the empty boxes were stowed.

CAPTION:                 I have sent the body of Aloysius Heath back to London, marked

as ministerial property.

CAPTION:                 He died serving his country, and deserves its highest honors.

PANEL 4

A hotel room.  Mrs. Heath opens the door for Ruthven and stares at him expectantly as he stands onher threshold.

CAPTION:                 Afterwards I visited Briony Waterfield to check on her

condition and to offer my condolences.

CAPTION:                 She was not Heath's wife, of course, but I believe she had been

his lover.

PANEL 5

Into tight two-shot.  Ruthven and Mrs. Heath kiss passionately, lips locked together.

CAPTION:                 Fortunately she is of a sanguine disposition - -

CAPTION:                 - - and has already begun to come to terms with her loss.

PAGE 22

PANEL 1

Time lapse.  Ruthven and Briony lie in bed together, presumably having just made love.  She leans on one elbow, looking speculatively down on him as he reclines on his back.  We can see that her side or perhaps her shoulder is bandaged where Quail shot her.

BRIONY:                   What will you do now, Mister Ruthven?

RUTHVEN:                I'm not sure if I should tell you, Miss Waterfield.

RUTHVEN:                The knowledge might place you in a compromising position.

PANEL 2

Tight on Briony.  She smiles languidly and sexily.

BRIONY:                   But as you've already seen - -

BRIONY:                   - - I enjoy being in compromising positions.

PANEL 3

Tight on Ruthven.  He sits up, his expression suddenly hard and stern.

RUTHVEN:                Quail did not act alone.  Someone in her majesty's government

betrayed us.  Our route.  Our objectives.  Even our names.

RUTHVEN:                I feel a keen desire to meet this someone.  And to question him

on this matter at some length.

PANEL 4

Out wide.  Ruthven sits at the edge of the bed now, Briony up on her knees behind him.  He reaches into his jacket pocket (it's hanging on a chair beside the bed) to take out a gun and a box of bullets.

BRIONY:                   You might not like the answers, Peter.

BRIONY:                   Whoever did this is likely to be someone very close to you. 

Someone who knows you well.

RUTHVEN:                Indeed.  But that brings its own advantages.

PANEL 5

Tight on Ruthven.  He begins to load the gun with bullets, one by one.

RUTHVEN:                It's a very short list.

END

Queen's Rook – pages 19 to 20

PAGE 19

PANEL 1

Out wide.  Ruthven swings a mighty punch at Ruthven, but when it lands Ruthven is already somewhere else, moving in a blur of speed.  Perhaps his first balloon here could come from where he's standing when Aratun swings – a blurry after-image of Ruthven left standing after he's already moved – and the second balloon from his final position.

RUTHVEN:                You caused me considerable injury, Colonel.  But I recover

quickly.

ARATUN:                  Hnn!

RUTHVEN:                Both from fractured bones and from narcotic compounds.

PANEL 2

Tight on Aratun, but with Ruthven's upper body coming into shot.  Ruthven punches Aratun several thousand times, Flash-style, making him stagger.

RUTHVEN:                Like the sea, I am soon at flood-tide again.

ARATUN:                  Nuurrhh!

PANEL 3

Out wide, but still centred on Aratun.  He flails desperately, trying to land a lucky punch, but the blur which is Ruthven is everywhere and nowhere.  Aratun is clearly taking terrific damage, his face red and swollen now and blood streaking from his mouth and nose.  He's barely standing, leaning over wildly.

RUTHVEN:                Wearing down the rocks by ceaseless attrition.

PANEL 4

Close-up on Aratun's face.  He bellows in rage and pain.

RUTHVEN:                Until they crumble - -

RUTHVEN:                - - their proud heads bowed in the dust.

PANEL 5

Low angle shot.  Nearest to us, Aratun is sprawled flat out on the floor, his wide open eyes unseeing and a dully surprised expression on his dead face.  Exhausted, his right arm hanging down and his knuckles bloody, Ruthven stands over his defeated opponent.

RUTHVEN:                You wanted her majesty's weapons.

RUTHVEN:                It has been my privilege to serve her in that capacity.

PAGE 20

PANEL 1

Cut to Quail and Celia.  Quail holds his gun in his hand but it's not aimed at the little girl: it rests on his folded arm as he stares at her mockingly.  Celia glowers back.  In the background, we can see Mrs. Heath, wounded and down but struggling to rise.

RUTHVEN CAP:       "But your Mister Quail is about to meet the latest model."

QUAIL:                      And pray, what will you do to me, little moppet?

QUAIL:                      Drown me in tears?  Melt my heart with pleading?

PANEL 2

Tight on Celia.  She opens her mouth wide and scrunches her eyes closed as she unleashes her special ability – a deafening scream which is accompanied by a concussive punch of spectacular force.

CELIA:                       EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

PANEL 3

Tight on Quail.  He's thrown backwards through the air by the force of the scream-punch, his gun flying away from him.  There might be a visible ripple effect to suggest Celia's power: whether there is or there isn't, hangings and carpets and pots and torches torn from the walls all join Quail as he's thrown head over heels, caught up as he is in the maelstrom of Celia's blast.

QUAIL:                      Guuuh!

PANEL 4

Rotate POV.  Quail smashes into a molded plaster wall with sufficient force to be partially embedded in it.

SFX:                            KRESCHHHHH

PANEL 5

Out wide.  Quail has slumped down at the foot of the wall,broken and dead.  Celia stands over him, arms sternly folded.  Behind her, Mrs. Heath has managed to stand and is watching her with grim satisfaction.

CELIA:                       I'll scream and scream and scream until you're dead.

As with last week's episode, I've intercut between the Ruthven/Aratun scene and the Quail/Celia scene: last week had the two reveals that Ruthven had recovered and that the weapons were not what we thought they were.  This part has the pay-off for both of those things and the villains getting their come-uppance.

And at this stage you sort of feel "man, it is what it is."  Everything that's already happened presses down on these scenes and constrains them into a certain shape.  We have to see Aratun and Quail brought down, we have to do it so it makes sense in terms of what we already know, and there has to be a price so it doesn't all seem too neat and clean.

But I'm wondering if I've given too much space to the Celia/Quail side of the coin, and I'm wondering whether Quail and Ruthven should come face-to-face again before he dies.  That would be difficult to arrange, logistically, but not impossible – and it would have a certain rightness about it.  The two halves of the question are sort of mutually exclusive, because adding in a Quail/Ruthven beat would make it very hard to shorten that scene.  But it WOULD be possible to have Ruthven just come in for that last panel on p20 and give Quail a valedictory beat.  So the options read like this:-

Should we alter the structure of these two pages?

1. No, keep them as they are.
2. Give more room to Aratun/Ruthven.
3. Allow Ruthven and Quail to meet.
4. Bring Ruthven in at p20 panel 5.

As always, fuller feedback, opinions, suggestions and stuff like that should be posted on the message board…

I've just posted part 9 of the story – ostensibly the next-to-last chapter, but I'm trying to get Virgin and MySpace to agree to let us have a couple of pages at the end for a coda.

Structure becomes an interesting little puzzle at this point, because I'm consciously writing with the serial form in mind – trying to create mini-cliffhangers at this point in the game without compromising the structure of the story when it's read as a whole.  So what I've done is to intercut, moving from the Ruthven/Aratun battle (which is about to resolve) to a Mrs. Heath/Quail scene so that we get parallel revelations in each.  The weapons aren't in the boxes, so where are the weapons.  Ah yes, now we see.

If I were doing this as a regular comic, I'd probably handle the intercutting slightly differently – and it's possible that there'll be some changes in any subsequent printed version, but this structure seemed to make sense for the format we're using.  Nonetheless, that's the question I wanted to ask you this week.  Should we keep the intercutting or resolve each of these scenes sequentially?

Or putting that the way it will appear in the vote box:-

How should we sequence the two parallel climaxes?

1.         resolve Ruthven vs. Aratun first.

2.         resolve Quail vs. Mrs. Heath and Celia first.

3.         intercut as now.

4.         none of the above.

As always, any open comments, suggestions, queries or criticisms can be posted on the message boards…

Queen's Rook – pages 17 to 18

PAGE 17

Out wide, but with Ruthven's body not in shot.  Aratun turns to look towards some of his men as they enter shot.  Two of them hold Fath Ali between them, the rest are hauling the long wooden crates which we assume hold the weapons.

TRIBESMAN:            Colonel, we found the weapons.  And the prince.

ARATUN:                  Excellent.  Open the boxes and make me an inventory.

ARATUN:                  And then use one of the rifles to shoot this fool.

PANEL 2

Rotate POV, bringing Fath Ali into the foreground.  He snarls at Aratun, who stares at him coldly.  In the background, one of Aratun's Turkish tribesmen is kneeling to haul open the first box.  He stares into it in dismay.

ALI:                            You'll pay for this, you Russian cur!

ARATUN:                  On second thought, hand me the rifle.

TRIBESMAN:            C - - Colonel!

PANEL 3

Tight on the tribesman, high angle so that we're looking down on him as from Aratun's POV.  He holds up a handful of sand that trickles through his fingers, and we can see that that is all the box is filled with.

TRIBESMAN:            There are no rifles.

TRIBESMAN:            The box is filled with sand!

PANEL 4

Out to two-shot.  Aratun lifts the terrified tribesman by his shirt front or by his throat, bellowing in rage.

ARATUN:                  Sand?  What are you talking about?

ARATUN:                  Why would the British government send Shuja Shah a box of

sand?

PANEL 5

Tight on Ruthven, on his feet again and seemingly fully recovered from his injuries.  He stands silhouetted against the backdrop of a curtain or hanging which has been set on fire.

RUTHVEN:                Perhaps as a memento mori, Colonel Aratun.  Sand is what

mountains become - -

RUTHVEN:                - - when the seas grind them down.

PAGE 18

PANEL 1

Cut to another part of the action.  Mrs. Heath flees through the corridors of the palace, but she fights as she flees.  She has Celia's hand in hers, the scared child running with her – and in her other hand she has the revolver with which she fires back the way she's come as they round a corner and run towards us.

SFX:                            BLAM BLAM BLAM

PANEL 2

Rotate POV.  Mrs. Heath and Celia run towards Quail, who walks calmly to meet them.  Quail is carrying a scimitar from one of the palace guards he killed previously.  Mrs. Heath suspects nothing, and seems relieved to see him.

MRS. HEATH:           Mister Quail!  We're under attack!

QUAIL:                      Yes.  I heard the shots.

MRS. HEATH:           You have to help me get Celia to safety.

PANEL 3

Into two-shot.  Quail slashes Mrs. Heath with the scimitar – our POV being from behind her so that we don't see how bad the damage is.  But she stiffens in shock and pain as she takes the blow, which Quail drives home with ruthless force.

QUAIL:                      I'm sorry, madame.  I'd love to help - -

MRS. HEATH:           Guuuh!

QUAIL:                      - - but I really don't think I'm the best chap for the job.

PANEL 4

Out wide.  Mrs. Heath is down on her knees, folded around the wound.  Blood soaks the front of her dress.  Her head is bowed.  Quail stands over Celia, the sword raised in his hand: he clearly intends to kill her too.  Celia backs away from him.

QUAIL:                      I think I warned you when we first met.

QUAIL:                      It's poor form to bring a child into a war zone.

CELIA:                       I'm not a child.

PANEL 5

Close-up – possibly extreme close-up – on Celia's face.  She narrows her eyes and scowls threateningly, her fear suddenly turning into threat.

CELIA:                       I'm a weapon.

Blog post 19

Part 8 is up and running.  It consists almost entirely of a fight scene, initially ensemble but then focusing in on Ruthven and Aratun.  This is where we heap on the agony before the double twist in the next part that enables Ruthven and his true Brits to defeat the bad guys – at some cost, we have to assume.

I can't help feeling as I look at this that some of the other characters deserve their moment in the sun – or at least in the frying pan.  So my question for the vote this week is whether you agree – whether anyone else in the company deserved increased panel time in this fracas, and if so who.

So that goes into the vote box as:-

Who should we see more of in the fight?

1.                  Heath

2.                  Mrs. Heath

3.                  Fath Ali

4.                  Nobody

As always, you can use the message board to give me more open discussion and feedback…

Queen's Rook – pages 15 to 16

PAGE 15

PANEL 1

The huge entrance hall of the palace.  Aratun's Turkish raiders pour through the doors, rifles and scimitars at the ready, intent on mayhem.  They yell a battle cry as they run directly towards us.

TRIBESMEN:                        Alalalalala!

TRIBESMEN:                        Aratmasyn!

PANEL 2

Cut to the banqueting chamber.  Ruthven and the Heaths leap to their feet and Fath Ali leans forward, intent and alarmed: clearly they've heard the shouts.

HEATH:                     That yell - -

ALI:                            A Turkish battle cry.  My palace is breached.  Mrs. Heath, you

must take your daughter to safety while we - -

MRS. HEATH:           By no means, sir.

PANEL 3

Two-shot on Ruthven and Mrs. Heath.  While she checks the bullets in her revolver, Ruthven downs one of his blood vials in a single gulp.

MRS. HEATH:           I ask no man to fight for my life.

MRS. HEATH:           Not while I may do the office myself.

PANEL 4

Out wide.  The Turks burst into the room and attack, and Ruthven runs to meet them.  The Heaths both blaze away with revolvers, with deadly accuracy.

QUAIL CAP:             Ruthven is a prodigy.

QUAIL CAP:             A freak of nature.

PANEL 5

In a little tighter, so that we're mainly watching Ruthven wreaking bloody mayhem on the Turks.  He's a blur of speed, barely visible, but where he's passed men fall, blood spraying from their mouths or with their necks twisted at impossible angles.

QUAIL CAP:             Those damned vials of blood he drinks make him the equal of a

regiment.

QUAIL CAP:             Something of a stumbling block, at first.

PAGE 16

PANEL 1

Rotate POV.  Ruthven takes out another tribesman, but he's slowing.  His face twists in pain or discomfort.

QUAIL CAP:             He even wears them while he sleeps, as if he feared someone

might try to meddle with them.

QUAIL CAP:             I didn't, of course.  Too risky.

PANEL 2

Out wide.  Ruthven falls to his knees, weak and dizzy and sick.  Further in the background, Aratun punches Heath off his feet – probably killing him in an instant.

QUAIL CAP:             And drugging his wine seems to have had much the same

effect.

PANEL 3

Two-shot on Ruthven and Aratun.  Aratun strides towards Ruthven, who is leaning against a pillar as he tries to get upright again.  Aratun grins, appreciating his enemy's helplessness.

ARATUN:                  Again, Mister Ruthven?  Why, this is almost becoming a

tradition.

ARATUN:                  We fight. 

PANEL 4

Rotate POV.  Aratun smashes Ruthven's head against the pillar with terrible force.

ARATUN:                  I hurt you.

SFX:                            KLUDDD

PANEL 5

Out wide.  Aratun hurls Ruthven from him like a broken doll.  He seems unconscious, possibly dead.

ARATUN:                  But we positively must make this the last time.

Queen's Rook – pages 13 to 14

PAGE 13

PANEL 1

A banqueting room in Fath Ali's palace.  Serving men with exotic-looking dishes file in among the guests, who recline on cushions rather than sitting in chairs.  Fath Ali himself is master of the revels, and he's sitting right next to Mrs. Heath, his attention obviously centred on her.  She affects not to notice, eyes modestly down as she eats, but actually she's well aware of his attentions and even encouraging them: it's part of how the great game is played.  NB: need to position Ruthven so that the zoom into two-shot in the next panel works. 

ALI:                            A Russian, you say?  The size of a horse?  Yes, I think I know

the fellow.

ALI:                            Colonel Aratun.  We've done business in the past.

PANEL 2

Two-shot on Ruthven and Ali.  They stare at each other intently, Ruthven clearly a little suspicious.

RUTHVEN:                What kind of business, highness?

ALI:                            For the most part - - the same kind that I conduct with you.

RUTHVEN:                And what would your father have to say about that?

PANEL 3

Tight on Ali.  He waves this question away, bored and dismissive.

ALI:                            There are political realities my father does not see, Mister

Ruthven.

ALI:                            Persia must have many friends if she is to thrive.

PANEL 4

Out wide.  In the foreground, Quail is on his feet and walking away from the meal.  Behind him, the conversation goes on, and Fath Ali leans over to pat Mrs. Heath's forearm reassuringly.

MRS. HEATH:           But we hope to be considered as your special friends, highness.

ALI:                            And you are, Mrs. Heath.  You are.

ALI:                            No one is dearer to my heart!

PANEL 5

Tight on Quail as he walks down a corridor of the palace, hands in pockets, head down, brooding.  Torches in sconces on the walls light his way.

QUAIL CAP:             It's not that I'm uncomfortable with luxury.  It just - -

exasperates me.

QUAIL CAP:             It's a distraction from the business in hand.  A snare for the

soul.

PAGE 14

PANEL 1

Out wide.  Quail has come to the front doors of the palace – massive and heavy and guarded by two tall, impassive bodyguards with scimitars.  They bar his path, arms folded, grim and threatening.

QUAIL CAP:             You have to try to focus through it - -

GUARD:                    His highness allows nobody to leave the palace after dark.

QUAIL:                      He's given me a letter of permission.

GUARD:                    Then show it to us.

PANEL 2

Tight on Quail.  He rummages in the pocket of his jacket, frowning in preoccupied thought.

QUAIL CAP:             - - on your real goals.

QUAIL:                      Of course.

QUAIL:                      I believe I have it - -

PANEL 3

Out wide.  Quail produces a revolver and shoots both guards down with ruthless precision.

QUAIL:                      - - here.

SFX:                            BLAM BLAM

PANEL 4

Tight on Quail as he pulls the massive doors wide open, having to lean into it because they're so heavy.  He's doing this one-handed, waving a flaming torch (taken down the wall) in his other hand.

QUAIL CAP:             Fortunately - -

QUAIL CAP:             - - I've always been able to take that longer view.

PANEL 5

Cut away to a hill some distance from the palace.  Night.  A Turkish tribesman, dressed like those we saw in part 3, lowers a field glass and turns to call to Aratun, who stands behind him, hands on hips, looking out across the darkness.

TRIBESMAN:            The signal, Colonel.  The gates are open.

ARATUN:                  Then go to, Ibrahim.  I paid you for a massacre.

ARATUN:                  I hope you're worth your hire.

Queen's Rook – pages 11 to 12

PAGE 11

PANEL 1

Morning.  The street outside the inn.  The coach exits through the gates of the inn-yard, a new Turkish driver at the reins.  Celia leans out of the window and waves at the guard whose rifle she critiqued: he waves back, holding the rifle aloft.

QUAIL CAP:             I confess that I saw the sun both down and up again.  So much

depended on this enterprise, and so much could still go wrong.

QUAIL CAP:             In such circumstances, sleep was impossible.

PANEL 2

The open country.  Out wide, high angle, as the coach reaches a fork in the dirt road, with dry scrubland and shallow hills all around – a barren and inhospitable landscape.  Possibly the town they've just left, or another small settlement, is visible in the distant background.

PANEL 3

Inside the coach, and out wide.  Quail, obviously in a surly mood, parts the curtains to stare out through the window, frowning in annoyance.  Celia sits on Mr. Heath's lap and plays animatedly with two dolls.  Ruthven is busy with something that we can't see, his hands moving below the panel's bottom edge.

QUAIL:                      Ruthven, our new driver - - this man you borrowed from your

friend Yilmaz - -

RUTHVEN:                What about him?

QUAIL:                      Well he's blind.  This road leads South, and Kars is due East.

PANEL 4

Tight on Ruthven.  He looks up from what he's doing, and we can now see that he's loading a revolver.

RUTHVEN:                We are not going to Kars.

RUTHVEN:                The next stop on our itinerary is Tabriz.

PANEL 5

Two-shot on Quail and Ruthven.  Quail responds in anger and disbelief.  Ruthven is stony-faced, calm and deadpan.

QUAIL:                      But - - Devil take it, sir, Tabriz is in Persia!

RUTHVEN:                I am aware of that fact.

QUAIL:                      And the Persian Shah hates England and Russia alike.  He will

not abide our presence!

PAGE 12

PANEL 1

Tight on Mrs. Heath.  She's been reading a newspaper all this time – the Times of London, its front page dense with text.  She lowers it now and stares at Quail calmly over it.

MRS. HEATH:           He will not learn of our presence, Mister Quail.  I have a…

cordial relationship with a Qajar princeling.

MRS. HEATH:           His name is Fath Ali.  And he has guaranteed us safe passage.

PANEL 2

Two-shot on Quail and Mrs. Heath.  He turns his anger on her, sneering now at these high-sounding words, and she's just as cool as Ruthven was.

QUAIL:                      Guaranteed?  The guarantee of a Mussulman?

MRS. HEATH:           Just so.

QUAIL:                      And what does he expect in return, if I may ask?

MRS. HEATH:           Oh, a great deal of money, of course.

PANEL 3

External shot, out wide and high.  The coach approaches a spectacular, sumptuously appointed palace set high on a promontory in the midst of bare desert – but with the trees of an oasis visible in the distance ahead.

MRS . HEATH CAP: "And the pleasure of our company.  Mine, in particular."

MRS . HEATH CAP: "Are you versed in palace etiquette, Mister Quail?"

PANEL 4

Inside the palace.  The travellers present themselves to Fath Ali, who – perhaps surprisingly – doesn't stand on his dignity.  Even though he's surrounded by liveried servants of both sexes, and by sturdy armed bodyguards, he comes forward to meet the little group himself.  He takes Mrs. Heath's hand with great ceremony, and she curtsies becomingly.

MRS . HEATH CAP: "If not, then do as I do."

MRS . HEATH CAP: "And you will not disgrace yourself, at least."

ALI:                            Mrs. Heath!  So very, very welcome!

MRS . HEATH:          Thank you, your majesty.

PANEL 5

Tight on Fath Ali.  He smiles broadly and throws out a hand, inviting them to the feast.

ALI:                            Come!  You must all dine at my table.

ALI:                            And tell me of the adventures you have had in getting here.

Queen's Rook – pages 9 to 10

PAGE 9

PANEL 1

The streets of a Turkish hill town.  Sunset.  Mostly adobe-style buildings with white or sand-coloured walls; some wooden shacks with stretched cloth for roofs.  The carriage, still driven by Mrs. Heath, turns in off the narrow street through a round-arched gateway.  A Turkish ostler stands in the street, furtively looking around to make sure that nobody else is watching this transaction.

CAPTION:                 Sivas.  Eastern Turkey.

PANEL 2

An inn-yard, narrow but high-walled.  Ruthven is the first to alight from the carriage, his broken arm stiff at his side.  He walks past the inn-keeper, Yilmaz.  Yilmaz is middle-aged and running to fat, but he has an air of authority and status about him.  He knows Ruthven and greets him civilly but doesn't bow or show any sign of subservience: like Ruthven himself, Yilmaz is an agent, and so there's no ceremony between them.

RUTHVEN:                Cover the carriage with oilcloths, Yilmaz.  And post a guard

over it.

RUTHVEN:                A minimum of four men at a time.

YILMAZ:                   Yes, Sayyid Ruthven.

PANEL 3

A corner of the inn-yard.  Ruthven has sat down and is fishing one of his blood-vials out of his belt.  Mrs. Heath stands over him and watches him do it with some concern.

MRS. HEATH:           Your arm is broken, Mister Ruthven.  And I am trained as a

nurse.

RUTHVEN:                Then look to your husband and daughter, Mrs. Heath. 

RUTHVEN:                The blood I carry with me will accelerate the healing process,

as it does all my body's processes.

PANEL 4

Into tighter two-shot.  Ruthven slugs down the blood.  Mrs. Heath watches, her eyes widening slightly in surprise and interest.  She holds up her hand, showing the wedding ring on her third finger.

MRS. HEATH:           I am unmarried, sir.  I bear that name, and this ring, solely to

forestall impudent advances.

MRS. HEATH:           Did you say - - all your body's processes?

PANEL 5

Tight on Ruthven seen from behind as he walks away, throwing the empty vial of blood over his shoulder.

RUTHVEN:                And therefore am I a soldier, madam.

RUTHVEN:                I leave you to imagine how lamentable I am in the capacity of a

lover.

PAGE 10

PANEL 1

Another part of the inn-yard.  While Mr. Heath unpacks the family's bags from the carriage, one of Yilmaz's men stands guard over the carriage with a rifle in his hands.  He is strong and fierce-looking, but he smiles as Celia stands before him and points at the rifle: he thinks she's a cute little kid who knows nothing about anything, and he's prepared to indulge her.

CELIA:                       Look, daddy.  That man's got a gun!

GUARD:                    A rifle, zugandari.

GUARD:                    Can you say "rifle"?

PANEL 2

Tight on Celia.  She wrinkles her nose in disdain.

CELIA:                       It's only an 1826 French shoulder-breech musketoon firing a

buck-and-ball load.

CELIA:                       I don't call that much of a rifle.

PANEL 3

The door of the inn, out wide.  As Ruthven makes to go in, Quail steps forward hastily to intercept him.  Quail seems anxious and rattled.  Ruthven stares at him coldly.

QUAIL:                      Ruthven!

RUTHVEN:                Yes, Mister Quail?

QUAIL:                      What do you intend to do with your cargo, now that this

expedition must be abandoned?

PANEL 4

Into two-shot.  Ruthven confronts Quail head-on.  Quail is exasperated and impatient, Ruthven calm and a little distant.

RUTHVEN:                Abandoned?  Why should it be abandoned?

QUAIL:                      Why?  Because those tribesmen knew who we were, and what

we carried!

QUAIL:                      They have a spy.  An informant.  And we must expect them to

attack again.

PANEL 5

Close-up oin Ruthven's face.  His eyes narrow.

RUTHVEN:                Indeed we must.  But you don't catch foxes by hiding in a

covert, Mister Quail.

RUTHVEN:                You have to trail a little meat across their path.  And

unfortunately, in this scenario - -

RUTHVEN:                - - we are the meat.