Coimbra, 16th - Late Afternoon & Evening

"And might I also enquire where this 'gift' comes from?" Still the General did not look at the bag. "Since it quite obviously does not come from Prussia."

'The exact origin of the 'gift' is not known to me, sir. If you are, however, trying to enquire about my own origins, than you are quite correct: I am not Prussian, though I carry a passport of the country, I come from what used to be Swabia before the Reichsdeputationshauptschluss.'

"Yet you must have some idea who engaged you in this matter, Herr von Dorn," Wellesley said, emphasising the name a fraction. He had been right about the man not being Prussian (though whether he was telling the truth about Swabia he did not know), and the man was undoubtedly an agent. But an agent who for? "I am not in the habit of accepting gifts if I do not know the sender."

'Of course, I do. I engaged myself on this matter.' Stated Fandorin a little exasperatedly. 'When I meant that I do not know the exact origin of the 'gift' I simply meant that I do not know in which country they were dug up.' With this, Fandorin untied the pouch and spilled the contents onto the table. The stones glittered in the firelight, mostly diamonds, but with a few rubies and emeralds thrown in.

The cascade of glittering stones could not help but draw Wellesley's eyes for a moment. His brain did a quick calculation, coming to the conclusion that this gentleman had just deposited a small fortune in diamonds on his desk surface.

Yet for any senior officer who had served in India, as Wellesley had, the sight of a fortune in stones no longer turned a head so easily. The General gazed coldly at von Dorn.

"And you have out of the kindness of your heart just decided to bestow a fortune on His Majesty's army?"

[OOC: I was thinking more along the lines of 100,000 pounds, but, er, if you think that amount will work...]

Fandorin snorted.
'Kindness of my heart? No one said you had a sense of humour, sir.' Fandorin who had seen the stones numerous times by now, was studying the General. 'No, it is mere and base selfishness on my part. I wish to see Napoleon defeated in my time, and as it stands you and your army are the only ones in the position, however remote, to do that.' Fandorin's words sounded forceful for whatever his reasons for being here, he did truly wish to see Napoleon defeated.

[OOC: Never trust a discalculaic...]

"Much as I would like to believe you, sir," Wellesley said, equally as forcefully. "Forgive me if I do not leap at your offer. My army is short of money - what army is not? - but you have lied to me continously. You have lied about your country, your profession, your name, and I suspect your reasons for being here."

Fandorin smiled coldly.
'Perhaps, I have, perhaps, I have not. I have my passport with me, if you wish to examine it. And I assure you, I have not lied about having Swabian blood, nor my name, for it is the name of my ancestor.' Fandorin showed no sign of uneasiness. 'As for my reasons... Now there you insult me. They are a little far-fetched, but do not think I gave up my whole fortune to bring you this.'

It still sounded somewhat far-fetched to Wellesley.

"I have spent many years in India, sir," he said shortly. "So understand that I have learnt not to trust generously-offered fortunes, as they usually have a habit of coming back and damaging oneself or ones government."

Fandorin inclined his head in agreement, for he expected this argument and he understood the General's concern fully.
'Yes, I have to agree with you on this point. There are few assurances I can give you that will not sound hollow. I will not ask you to sign anything, to give me a receipt or give me any way to prove that you have accepted this. I can also assure you that no one but me and the jeweller from whom I purchased these stones know of them being in my possession. I am a careful man, sir, and I'd rather hate to be implicated in this affair too. I also do not need you to account for your spending of this money. If you choose to accept them, they are yours to do with as you please.'

Fandorin paused, hating to make long speeches. 'Is there any other way I can assure you that I have no intention of causing you harm with this 'gift'?

Tell the truth, Wellesley thought.

And that was what bothered Wellesley the most. A fortune in stones did not turn up unannouced and with no strings attached; it just didn't.

"How do you know I will not take them for myself?" he asked.

'I do not. Yet, I have enquired about your character extensively and I choose to trust that you will not take them for yourself. If you do, well, I am the one who is the fool here.'

Fandorin shrugged. He had orders, and if he was going to carry them out, however foolish they seemed to himself.

It had also occured to Wellesley that this man could possibly be a thief. Stones with no provenance were suspect indeed - but what could a thief gain from giving the stones to the army? Unless no fence would handle them and he was therefore stuck, or the party they had been stolen from was a force to be reckoned with...

He picked a couple of the diamonds and a ruby up and held them in his palm, moving them about in the firelight and examining them. They were the genuine article; no doubt about that. He thought of the supplies these three stones might buy him, enough to feed the men for several months; then there was the pay to be considered, equipment, shoes...

Fandorin whose work was before that concerned with criminals, had a suspicion that the General might take him for one, but he had no wish to try and reassure the man further, he doubted that his words would convince the man anyway. He turned away and let the man study the stones as he himself moved to the window to gaze outside. Only a few weeks before he stood just like that before the Palace's window, looking out at a completely different picture. He decided there and then that he disliked being, well, a spy, though he was not acting as one in the strict sense of the word.
He waited in silence for some moments, than sighed.
'I do understand your reservations, sir, but I am afraid I cannot think of a way to reassure you.'

"You sound as if you have no choice but to hand these over to me," Wellesley said flatly, still examining the stones. Tools were needed as well, and powder, and payment for local informants, for the hire of wagons and draught animals...

'Not any choice that I'd prefer to this one. I have no need for this money, and it would serve better purpose in your hands than in mine.'
Fandorin clasped his hands behind his back again, without looking away from the window.

Wellesley looked up at von Dorn's back.

"A very blaze attitude when one is giving up his entire fortune to the loosing side," he said flatly.

'Not entire fortune, I assure you, sir. I do rather like certain comforts.' Fandorin paused for a moment. 'Loosing side, maybe. Still fighting side? No doubt about that.' He was not completely successful at hiding his emotion and a trace of genuine bitterness over the chokehold that Napoleon had over his country coloured his voice.

Wellesley watch Von Dorn's reflection carefully in the window. The hate that passed over his face when mentioning the conquests of the Emperor seemed genuine enough. Yet what could he do? In all rights what could he do?

Fandorin's shoulders tightened a little, as he addressed the General again, still without turning around.
'I do not wish to make a fool of myself, but shall ask this nevertheless: what reassurance can I give you that I do not mean you harm, however, unorthodox my gift or my way of making it?'

"Your real name and clients," Wellesley said. "But since you shall not give me them, then there is no reassurance I can accept."

Fandorin shrugged. 'I do not have clients in the standard sense of the word. As for my name... Von Dorn is my name. It certainly was my father's name.'

Which of course meant nothing. Wellesley curled a fist around the stones in frustration, then let them drop back down into the desk with their brothers and sisters.

"You ask a lot of me, sir," he said after a while.

'I give you a lot too, sir.' Fandorin finally turned around to face the General, his 'pupil-less' dark eyes looking strangely at the man. 'I shall not even try to escape the eyes of your spy for a few days more.'

Wellesley did not react to that statement, but cursed inwardly. Von Dorn was certainly on the lookout for being watched.

He reflected again. What should he do? The money was needed, he had almost certainly was wavering to accepting; but perhaps it would be better to decide in the cold light of day, with a clearer head and without the stones glittering on his desk.

"If you are in earnest, sir," he said placidly. "You would not object to my thinking your proposition over."