Devante is seated at his desk, a pile of paperwork. Ildefonso is lead in by Sir Shin Yodama, groomsman and companion (You've a dirty mind, it was perfectly acceptable in the middle ages...) to the Viscount. When the fallen knight enters, Devante stands with some respect. "Please. Cousin. Have a seat." he says, then taking his own seat again. "I've word from your uncle on Vera Cruz."

Ildefonso moves stiffly, glaring as he is led into sight of Devante and tightening his hands into fists for a moment before he barely succeeds in bringing himself to a state of aproximated relaxation. He does not move to seat himself but at those words does look somewhat suprised. A clipped. "Indeed?"

Devante offers a slow nod. "I also have word from Prince Juan. Come, Ildefonso. Sit. Please. I have treated you well, like family to me. Show me some understanding. Show me you are a noble, and not just an soldier."

"I am family to you Viscount Devante." Answers Ildefonso somewhat defensively. "As are the others you still fight to the northwest. Why then not let me contact my family who are close to hand while I am in your captivity?" Despite this he does sit. Still far from at ease with the entire situation.

Devante exhales, and offers a simple nod. "Because we are still at war with them, and I must take a soldiers view of that. Defending my people against possible intelligence. If you like, I will arrange a meeting with them." There is a pause. "I have sent my most trusted woman, Arisabela Helidora Lavanda y Vinicio de la Garza De Casto del Hazat de la Aragon, to that just named world. She has walked the stacks of our geneological past, searching down Sharls's claim to nobility. She has the answer he seeks. She has also spoken with the Prince, while I was held captive by the Mercedes. I assure you...

A slight smile.. "You are kept in better respect than I was. Aside from that, I also have the Princes dictates here. I must follow the Princes Dictates. Would you not agree, all Hazat, in blood and spirit, must follow the Princes Dictates?"

"The Mercedes are filthy republicans!" Spits the captive knight at that, angered apparently at the comparison even. "Then a harsh shrug. "Were the Castenda not still Hazat when they disagreed with the dicates of Prince Juan during the Emperor Wars Viscount? As to a meeting, those who the Al-Malik captured upon the field at Dulahan Spur were trusted more. Paroled with their swords, allowed to return home to their families with their pledge to not fight untill ransom was paid. Do you hold your honour more lightly than the Al-Malik?"

Devante shakes his head. "I have a different... burden to bear, than the Al Malik, my cousin." He says, reaching in to a stack of papers. "Here. You will recognize the seal." he says, offering it over then. It's a copy, but a verified one. The princes dictates, labeling those who fled to the Imandoura as traitors to the Hazat and all that entails. "And the Castenda merely wished to continue the war, as their blood cried out for justice. after Jericho. A battle my father is a veteran of and I missed by an hour..." He exhales now, reaching for a tumbler of whiskey, pouring two glasses.

"This is why we have leaders, my cousin. Leaders with training and understanding to know when to fight and when not to. Our passiosn would push us to destruction, leaving Sutek bare of defenders to the Hawkwood coming from Holy Terra with church backing."

"As to the matter of ransom and so on... Let me explain. The Al Malik want money. I want justice for my family. You have been misled, my cousin. Sharls Imandoura is descended from Estancia... freemen, not the heartblood of our people. The Prince... has spoken. And I must follow his dictates, for I am both a leader and a soldier. I see the Princes wishes as wise. And I am dulciniea. I am Castillo. Contrary to what you hear... my honor is my life."

Ildefonso takes the offered document as he listens, bristling as he does so, reading carefully.. Then a frown. "I speak of the Castenda resisting Prince Juan's call for a million man levy much earlier in the war, Viscount. And indeed, leaders. Those of us who followed our leader into the arms of the Imandura were we have been treated with honour. Granted lands, led into victory. I -refuse- to believe that Captain General Sharls Imandura is not Hazat." His hand clenches hard about the whiskey glass as accepts it reflexively. "He lost at the spur, but outnumbered two to one, helpless against your planes and the guns of that iron monster off of the coast. That was the -only- loss. We sent the craven Mercedes fleeing in terror to the north!"

Devante offers a nod. "I understand. But know THIS, Ildefonso... VICTORY does not make a Hazat. Is the Emperor Hazat for his victory? No. HAzat, is what we do with defeat, how we craft it and make it victory. HAzat is what we do as a people, as soldiers and nobles. Sharls Imandora is not noble blooded, but that does not make him ANY less valorious or victorious. Would he take it... I would let him kneel before me now, I would tap his shoulders and I would make him hazat. But he will not... and there is this matter of the Princes dictates."

"De Dorada is the problem, Il Defonso. I could use my powers here to summerilly -pardon- those who followed him. But I cannot pardon -him-. For his temerity, for his crimes, the Prince wants -his- head. And congradulations on the Victories. They are well earned."

Ildefonso wavers slightly though he still seems defiant. "And so you would have me bow down to you in defeat then Viscount Devante? After that evil blade of yours unnaturally sheared through my weapon?" Then he loses track of his rant slightly. "And what is your point then sir? Concerning De Dorada?"

Devante exhales. "You were too young, I think, when De dorada led his revolt, to remember this well. Alvaro." A pause as he gestures to the sword he carries, Alvaro's that had been gifted to Devante when he took over as his marshal... "But the Archons had a different leader, a man Loyal to Alvaro. When Alvaro deployed to prophets crossing, and I with him, this leader came suddenly and violently ill. My reports indicate he was poisoned. Several key ARchons also died or were reported missing. De Dorada assumed control. Some say there was a dispute with Alvaro and De Dorada over lands owed. I cannot support that claim, nor deny it. Upon word of Alvaro's death, as I was still kicking my way out of my fighter as it sank in a bog... he took you, your father and the others over the mountains to seek greater glory. He shattered the Hazat that day, knowing it would be years before I could mount much of an effort against him."

Ildefonso freezes a few moments, then a desperate. "He -believes-. Sharls Imandura, he is a great man! And he knows in his very soul, that he is Hazat. Regardless of De Dorada, we followed him willingly, he led us, everything a Hazat should be. And this is false? But .. How?" He is visibly shaken, knuckles white as he continues to clench the glass of whiskey before he now suddenly tips it down his throat in an almost convulive gesture.

Devante opens a folder, offering it over. "Here is the hard data. But let us think for a moment on the Soft Data. The heart." he says, pouring the boy another. "A man who was -like- a brother to Hueve Iman... settles on Vargo. An Estancia man who served him as armsman, as brother in combat. You have had men like this, yes?" A pause. "I know I have. My squad is my family. This man settles on Vargo. He has a family and he tells his stories." A pause. "His children tell his stories. The world looses its technology. Its communications. Soon... his great great grand children forget that very important noble distinction between LIKE a brother... and brother indeed."

Ildefonso does not object to the pouring of more liquor, then hastily gulps down half of the contents of the glass as he takes the folder. He flips through it with a combination of listlessness and despair before then uttering. "So.. It is all a lie?"

Devante exhales. "I have met Sharls and I have found him to be an excellent man. Broken by his time in Decados Captivity, but an excellent man. He is -mistaken-. Rebuilding his identity by latching on to this historical tale of his people. Fashioning himself as something new. Have you ever seen a man come out of battle... and dedicate his life to the church, broken by what he has seen? Add in to this, De Dorada, playing him, urging him on. Giving him troops and that concept of legitimacy. Sharls is a -good- man and I Would gladly walk beside him. I was going to."

He pours himself another drink now, leaving the bottle in the center. "Slow down some, you've not had any in a while and I don't want anyone thinking I got you drunk." A slight grin... "You may not know it, but I was about to send Sharls to Aragon to take his oaths to our prince... in exchange for peace. But at the last moment, Sharls and De Dorada balked on the price; Ergo, De Dorada's head. I refused to relent and the next day, they took Jaloba."

Ildefonso does not seem to want to slow down, and gulps what remains of his whiskey now. "I understand yes. I understand fully.. The SHAME!" He gives a sharp shake of his head. "Not just mine, that my father was also a traitor? Died a traitors death?" He seems to be testing the words against himself.

Devante shakes his head. "I have not filed any reports on you fathers death nor his disposition" He leans forward. "And I have no intention of labeling him a traitor. There is no dishonor in fighting for your leaders. The traitor, IlDefonso, is -De Dorada-, who mislead you, betrayed and otherwise lead your father to his death. It pains me that any of my kin have died at my or others hands. It grieves me deeply."

Ildefonso does rally slightly there, stiffening as he notes. "No, instead you killed him when the cannon shells of your fighter overloaded his shield. I may owe this De Dorada a debt of vengence, but I also owe you one Viscount."

Devante nods slowly, setting his glass down. "Indeed. You do. Will you seek it?" he asks, tilting his head. "A duel, or something more personal?"
.
Ildefonso's eyes flash down to his empty glass.. Then a forced chuckle. "A duel yes. Not to the death, I still need to avenge myself on another. But once I am sober to do my father justice I would have your blood."

Devante smiles quietly, lifting his glass to the other man. "And that... Is a Hazat."

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