BegmanBindingsBegman BindingsThe scene: The audience hall of the Alcazar. High windows near the ceiling allow natural light, which right now is starlight and moonlight, to accentuate the more mundane lighting sources in the long rectangular room.There are flags hanging on the wall, too, reminiscent of the banners of Golden Circle Nations in the Great Hall. These banners, though, are not from other Golden Circle kingdoms. At the far end of the hall is a two step dais. The magnificent pair of thrones on the top dais are unoccupied. A smaller, more humble chair is a step below it. A guard looks at Shannon and Devaine. He has not noticed Brieanne's arrival. "Since we were not at Court today" Shannon says smoothly. "The Prince's student and I wished to see the thrones for ourselves. It is true that the thrones on the upper part of the dais are only meant for when the Prime Minister is in residence? The Mayor only uses this more humble chair?" She doesn't touch the smaller, lesser chair but gestures to it. "Yes, this is true" the guard says in a flat monotone. "Thank you." Shannon says. "Architecture and furnishings are one of the passions of Royal Princess Florimel. She would be remiss if I did not tell her about these in detail." "Just don't break anything, your highness." the guard says. "It would be my head if it were to happen." Brieanne only smiled, ignoring the guard and circling around the chair in question. She stopped, taking half a step back with her hand planted firmily on her hips, examining it with a degree of curiosity. How it worked was just as interesting as what would need done to undo its affect. Brieanne's study proves several things, right off. The throne has nothing to do with her enemy. There is no sign of that sorcery whatsoever. The sorcery here is from some sorcerer whose origins are not Amber or Chaos. The spell does fortify health and vigor, this is true. But it does it by binding the occupant to the chair for longer and longer periods. Underlain with that is a spell that is subtly influencing the mind of the occupant as well, clouding it, confusing it, making it prone to suggestion from someone with the right token or focus object. A ring, say. Thus, the Lord Mayor's health is being propped up in a non sustained way, and he's being ever more dependent on sitting on the throne, addicted to it, even, and thus subject to the whims of those who are putting words in his ears. Brieanne is sure she could sense the possessors of such focal objects, were she to come in contact with them. In fact...one of them is in Shannon's pocket. Brieanne gets a bonus in the study of the ensorcelled throne. That bonus is that especially given her loyalties, allies and enemies, she gets to see Shannon at work, and a real sense of how her sorcery operates. Oh, she cloaks it very well indeed, seeming to know that Brieanne is watching. But Shannon is teaching and working in concert with Devaine, and Devaine's skills and level of ability are not Shannon's...and certainly not Brieanne's. It provides the opportunity for Brieanne to see into the process. It's quite illuminating. She's clever, using metaphors and a paradigm based somewhat on syntactic magic, magic based on words and constructions of the same. Given that she does hole up in the library, this makes a lot of sense. It gives plenty of insight on how Brieanne might go after Shannon, were it to come down to brass tacks. Corrupt the words, throw in nonsense syllables, or even more cleverly, use constructions of language to turn spells against her. "So what do you think, cousin?" Shannon says conversationally, her magic dropping. Devaine stares at the throne carefully, nibbling her lip in thought. "If you cannot replace the mayor and reduce him to a puppet so the real power is moved elsewhere,I would find someone else to bind to this. I don't think it matters who, just someone of little power and influence of their own. Use either subject to ferret out the keys to the influence to find the agents responsible. For the mayor, I've already suggested replacing his bond with another less draining one so that he heals from his ordeal and I can do that. With those accomplished, lay the trap, trip the lines and wait to see who else comes." She shrugged. It all seemed very simple to her, but she wasn't prone to over thinking things. "Removing the mayor is a political shift William and I would be loath to take." Shannon says briskly. "He already has plans and ideas involving using Coral to help settle down Begma, but replacing a Mayor who has been good to Amber is something he'd rather not do. Having someone you don't need to puppet is valuable, so if we can get some more time out of his reign as Mayor, so the better." "Keeping him alive and kicking, without the dependency on the Omphalos spell, is the best option." Devaine puts in. "We can put our own spell on the throne, so that he doesn't have to change his routine. Lifting the old spell would be the other step." "Would you care to do the first while I do the second?" Shannon offers. Brieanne simply stared at Shannon. "One of us does not understand the other." She replied. "My intention is to simply insert a new end to the influence spell, freeing your mayor, and then propping him up with a different opiate until he can be weaned off of with minimal harm as you seem to wish. You use the new end to ferret out the agents the Omphalos have in place. You have one token, but I see no reason why there shouldn't be others." She gestured to Shannon's pocket. "Oh, I liberated this" Shannon pulls out the pin "from one of William's pigeons, so to speak." She stokes it with a thumb and puts it back in the pocket. " "I did misunderstand you." Shannon adds. "I think I know what you have in mind, now. You insert the end, hand that off to me, I'll work with that while you prop up the mayor, and then we might go a hunting." "And I?" Devaine says. "Unless my cousin has a better idea, I want you to carefully go over *those*" She points at the larger thrones. "I want to know if the Omphalos have laid a trap against the day the Prime Minister comes calling." Shannon looks at Brieanne expectantly. "We will need the Mayor and the new 'end'. I have no difficulty accomplishing what needs done, but without those anchored to work with, it will be ... inexact." She made a face so there was no doubt how distasteful that was. Shannon nods. "Well, William got to talk to the Mayor. Shall we go and see how he handles two Princesses? I'm sure we can find some patsy to act as the other end." "And I?" Devaine says. "Keep to your part of the plan." Shannon says confidently. "Yes. We need the bodies in question. Both the Mayor and the ... hound to help you hunt." She seemed at least briefly amused, but too focused on the task to be distracted and clearly ready to be on the way. Not long later, Brieanne and Shannon are standing in the quarters of the Lord Mayor. The Lord Mayor retired early but was not asleep, and force of persuasion and personality between Brieanne and Shannon
together get them an evening audience, even as the Lord Mayor's
caretakers resist and stonewall
as long and as well as they can. In the end, it is for naught.
Looking haggard, and tired, the Lord Mayor sits in a chair in the
sitting room of his apartments,
regarding Shannon and Brieanne.
"You will forgive me, Princess Brieanne. I knew that Prince William
was here, as well as the Princess Shannon, of course.
I had not expected you to be here as well. No one
warned me of your imminent arrival."
"Ah... good sir... that is just how I prefer it." Brieanne purred
sincerely.
"I do enjoy being unexpected, and how fortunate that I arrived here."
"You are Prince Julian's daughter?" the Lord Mayor says, shaking his head
in disbelief. "The stories I have heard are clearly stories."
"Indeed." Shannon says. "More than you would believe."
Brieanne giggled. "I did tell you that I like to be unexpected." She
beamed. "Perhaps later you can tell me what you've heard. I love to hear how
perceptions travel."
"Oh, you're going to need someone for your end..." She reminded Shannon.
"Really, it will work best to have both on hand. A hardy young soldier
might
be best..." She mused, and then turned her attention back to the Mayor.
"You see, I know a thing or two about bindings, and I have a fairly
straight-forward way to get you out of your little situation. Though...
I confess the undoing might not be entirely pleasant, though in a creepy,
'dear gods what's happening' sort of way instead of an 'oh gods she's
killing me' kind, and ..." she perched herself on the arm of his chair,
leaning close. "I promise to make saving you much more pleasant."
"What do you need from me?" the Lord Mayor says. He is not quite
ensorcelled
by Brieanne and her talents quite yet, but that's quickly changing.
"We need a volunteer." Shannon pipes up. "As my cousin said, a soldier to
take
the hook from the spell once Brieanne, um, frees it from you."
"Have the servant outside the door find Fredrik. He should be nearby
on his patrol."
The Lord Mayor doesn't even look at Shannon, instead studying Brieanne's
eyes.
"Are you sure you are Julian's daughter, and not, say, William's
sister." the Lord Mayor says.
"Quite certain." Brieanne replied, the smile a little sharper. "Though I
shall take the compliment as you intend it."
Five minutes later, a tall (more than a foot taller than Brieanne or
Shannon) guard has arrived
in suite, sitting uneasily in a chair, awaiting his fate with a little
more trepidation than the Lord Mayor.
"I would tell you not to worry," Brieanne said, approaching, "but that would
be untruthful. We need a brave soul to take up the burden the Lord Mayor has
found himself weighed with. It puts the realm in great danger, but if we
simply undo it, they shall know they are uncovered and the agents of the
enemy shall flee before they are caught. Instead, we'd ask that you take it
up..." She sat at the edge of the chair next to him, angled toward him and
leaning, adding an element of intimacy to a public conversation.
"With the link that the agents hammered, you can help Shannon sniff out the
spies. The strain will not be light, but the Lord Mayor has weathered it,
and the seat that helped him, will help you until the work is done. Hero's
work, really. Taking up the mantle, fixing what is wrong, saving the realm..
something a minstrel could craft a lovely ballad from."
She was watching the soldier intently, seeming very compassionate about the
magnitude of what they were asking, but unwavering because the of the
importance.
The soldier takes an extra long moment to stare at Brieanne before he breaks the gaze and look at the Lord Mayor. "All the Princess has said is true, son." he says. "So if you were to decline to help, you would not speak of this to anyone, just as if you are to do this service for your lord, city and realm." He looks back at Brieanne, and swallows thickly. "I will do this, for the sake of the Lord Mayor. I say yes, before weakness stills my tongue and chills my blood." A head nod to Shannon, and Shannon soon has a glass of a dark ,rich amber liquid that she presses into the hand of Frederik. He drinks it, quickly, and nods to Brieanne. "I am ready" "Good" the Lord Mayor says. "I will forego the liquid courage. Let's be about this." "Hmm..." Brieanne stood, surveying the room. "We need to be... closer. And as comfortable as we can make ourselves. I've no desire to have anyone fall out of a chair." She tapped her lips with a carefully manicured fingernail and then her gaze brightened. "Yes! Help him." She gestured for the soldier to come with her, intent on getting the Mayor to his feet, and gestured to the bed room. "Everyone is going to lay down, close their eyes, do they're very best to relax, and even I shall be comfortable." She seemed pleased with the arrangement she had in mind and moved the men along firmly enough to quell any arguements. She helped put the Mayor on one side of the bed, climbed into the middle, and then patted the empty space next to her. Once both men were situated, she wiggled up between them and placed a hand over each heart. Shannon stands vigil, watching carefully, taking notes in her head. "Now... we begin... imagine a garden growing. The web roots that reaches out through the earth, connecting one thing to another. Now... imagine that you are also the earth, with roots reaching through you.. anchoring..." She spoke softly, in a soothing, seductive tone, reaching in to both men... looking for the ties that bound the Mayor, and the appropriate place to guide them to in the soldier. She 'allowed' the bonds, the magic and the men affected to grow warm against the relative coolness of the local mana, generating an arcane fog to shroud her from prying eyes, and then settled into her work. She coaxed the bonds from the Mayor forward, growing them through him like vines, guiding them along as if she were a trellis to the soldier. It was work that could not be hurried and she made sure each element of the connection was just as it should be. Testing the length of it for continuity before finally turning her attention to extracting the Mayor. It was slower work, combing him free bit by bit without damaging or disturbing the new roots. In her mind he fell free of the last tangle like the puddle of mud she had been imagining him as. She sat a moment, wrapping him up neatly in soft bindings to ease his shock, and then turned to see how the soldier was faring with his new task. "Blood of the Red Unicorn." Frederik says, gasping as he rises to a sitting position. "Brieanne...?" Shannon says. "No, its all right." Frederik says. "It is like a weight upon me, one that I cannot discharge or put down. How did you stand it, sir?" he asks the Lord Mayor. "I don't...know" he says, blinking his eyes. He remains in a prone position. "I feel...fragile. Old. As if I were made of glass, temporarily packed into straw. But I no longer feel that terrible binding." Brieanne sat quietly between the two men, one hand still resting on the Mayor's chest, though she had lifted the other to allow Frederik to rise. "The sooner you hunt the spies, the sooner you can be freed." She commented to the soldier, gaze steady, watchful, but not challenging. "Sir?" Frederik turns to look at the Mayor. "Go with the Princess. Do with her as she asks to find the source of the spell, or give her a beginning. You are assigned to her for the nonce. Under the terms of the Golden Circle Treaty, you are so impelled." "Thank you, Lord Mayor." Shannon says. "Don't thank me. This operation is not yet done, if I don't miss my mark." he lifts his head enough to look at Brieanne. "Isn't there?" "They are done. The sooner the agents are located, the better. But I am not yet finished with you." She said it in a soothing tone, patting his chest, and then turned to Shannon. "I will secure him and see him safely to sleep, and then find William so that he knows we were successful and to help him with his young, misguided friend." She cocked her head, peering at Shannon like a little bird, waiting for the other woman's reply. "And I will take the guard, and get to work investigating, and see if there any more enchantments to untangle in that throne room. If you need me..." Shannon pulls out a trump deck and offers Brieanne a card. "Not sure that you need a copy, all things considered." She steps back and regards Brieanne. "My opinion of you and your talents require serious revision." Brieanne only smiled. A sly, subtle expression that gave away nothing. "Come, Frederik" Shannon says. "We've work to do." She gives a curtsey to the Lord Mayor, and with the guard in tow, exits. "Is she some sort of rival to you?" The Lord Mayor says, once Shannon is gone. "Oh... not really." Brieanne smiled, but it wasn't a kind expression. "But I did say that I like to be unexpected... and she's not the sort who likes surprises. I won, and she was left... red faced." Brieanne giggled but then turned her attention to the business at hand. "She appears to have been discomforted by your skills, as if she did not expect them from you" The Mayor replies. "All part of my being unexpected. I expect to surprise her again, too. One way or another." "Let us see how much damage the old bond did, and what I might need to do to keep you.. safe." She soothed him back, brushing her fingers across his eyes to close them. "Just rest." She studied him a moment. Would he want the chairs to fix his fragile feeling? She suspect he might, and she had just the cure for that. But, all things considered, she felt safer having justification before she took action. The study of the bond, laid open like an apple split so that one can see the core, makes the nature of the situation very easily seen by Brieanne. The bond restored some of the Mayor's health, its true, but at the cost of making him dependent on it. The Mayor is like a man trying to stay awake by eating sugar and drinking coffee. It works, but eventually, the tiredness will come, and come down hard on him for putting it off for so long. The aftereffects will not be pleasant. But not to replace the bond with something will at best leave him fragile, and at worst, kill him. The study of the bond, laid open like an apple split so that one can see the core, makes the nature of the situation very easily seen by Brieanne. The bond restored some of the Mayor's health, its true, but at the cost of making him dependent on it. The Mayor is like a man trying to stay awake by eating sugar and drinking coffee. It works, but eventually, the tiredness will come, and come down hard on him for putting it off for so long. The aftereffects will not be pleasant. But not to replace the bond with something will at best leave him fragile, and at worst, kill him. But does he want the fix? Absolutely. That much is clear to Brieanne. "So... Tell me of these things you have heard of me." She asked quietly, looking over at him from half closed eyes. A soft, quiet expression, her hand still on his chest. She worked the magic while he spoke, moving slowly, with a light touch, taking care to cause no worry. Soothing. Propping him up as she bound him to her "Many things. The doings of the Family of Amber are a popular topic, for obvious reasons." Sebastian Drake, Mayor of Tyin states. "The stories about you, Princess Brieanne, mention nothing of this. They tell of the Mistress of Forest Arden, whose domain begins where the southern branch of the Royal Highway from Begma eventually reaches the Old Inn. It is said that you, your father and brother know more of the forest than anyone alive or dead. There are other tales, too." he said. "There are tales of the young man who once glimpsed you bathing in a pool in Arden, and in a fit of anger, you changed him into a stag, and hunted him for your pleasure..." Given that the courses of the prior spell are such easy channels, even if Brieanne did not want use the Omphalos spell's conduits themselves for aesthetic reasons or otherwise, they provide a blueprint, a methodology on how it might, could and should be done. It takes about 40 minutes of work, the Mayor telling Brieanne of his impressions of her all the while, before the binding, in energy and otherwise, is complete. He's now hers. She smiled in amusement at his stories, teasing here or there, but in good humor. Nodding and encouraging him in his distraction until the last tie was smoothed into place and all was well with the world. "So funny, how tales twist and turn." She patted his chest and sat back. "Don't you feel better now?" "Yes" he admits. He lifts a hand, looking at it in wonder." I don't feel...a prisoner to him." he says. His eyes regard hers. She tilted her head, regarding him, almost serene. "You should rest now, and I should let William know that you are well." She told him as she slid off the bed. "Do not be too quick to rise in the morning. Let them see you recover slowly..." She cautioned, with a sly smile, the cunning gleam in her eyes making him her co-conspirator. The Mayor nods in agreement. "Sleep now." She winked, ready to slip away and be off to the next event of her already eventful day. Even if Sebastian wasn't inclined to sleep, the bond Brieanne has over him makes such a suggestion seem an irresistably natural thing to do. He is nearly asleep before Brieanne can leave the room. Mission Accomplished And just how does Brieanne plan to go about finding William, in the city? A young misguided lordling, parties, even as predictably as that could go, nothing replaced the solid nature of kin. So she left, floating like a ghost out to the street seeking the weight of another family member, working away from where she expected Shannon to be. The city is relatively large, but even so, focusing on the Pattern, with her magic, requires merely focusing on another Pattern, except for Shannon. Shielding herself from the brightness of Shannon's Pattern leads Brieanne away from the Castle and into the lower reaches of the city. Its like hunting a quarry, or even hunting her special quarry, except this time, William is not trying to elude her. At least, not explicitly, but it occurs and seems to Brieanne that his path and trail are a little labored and tortured. She comes across traces of William here and there, a trail of breadcrumbs that finally pays off. A stopped carriage, near a urinal in one of the darker sections of town. A couple of figures are at the urinal, including William, judging from the resonances. The carriage, however, is not empty, with some low voices from within carrying as a mumble upon the wind. Now that she found him, Brieanne ignored William, sliding to the far side of the carriage wrapped in shadows and hidden to listen to what was being said inside. William still continues his business at the latrine. Slipping to the far side of the carriage, the conversation appears to be between two Begman nobles. "We take our Prince to the Red House. We are agreed, then?" "You mean that you have decided and I have to agree." "It's the same thing." "He's taking an awfully long time in that latrine. I think the beer may be wearing off..." "You're just being a nervous horse at this point, milord. We're going to follow through on this." "Do you think he suspects what is going on? What we propose...I don't think we can do it. Even if he's drunk as a skunk, and his companions are sleeping here." "That young officer IS a problem we have to deal with first. I never trust a teetotaler." At this point, Brieanne can hear William, loudly, singing a song, something about a female centaur, as he, in a clearly exaggerated manner, stumbles in the direction of the carriage. "He's coming back. I still don't like this plan." "Our employer mandates that you don't have to like anything, only obey. Or would you prefer to be like bound the Mayor?" "I know," William replies dryly. He attends to the business that brought them to the facility, continuing to speak. "And that is the reason for this little deviation from our course. I could tell that you were about to get yourself killed protecting me. Admirable, my friend, but not yet necessary. Now that we have saved your life for the moment, let us continue with our true business." "Ja" Czeller replies in agreement. He swings around wildly, almost falling, appearing to catch himself at the last minute. Leaning on Czeller, he starts making his way back to the carriage, trousers only half buttoned up, loudly singing an improbable song about the romantic rivalry between a cavalry officer and his steed over the love of a lusty centauress. The progress back to the carriage is stopped three quarters of the way there. Czeller feigns tripping, enough to stop the forward motion of William for the moment. He points at the pool of shadows at the far side of the carriage. A nearby gaslight shows the distinctly shape of the shadow of the carriage, and also that there is a distortion of that shadow, as if someone or something invisible was within it. There is a faint but detectable scent of recent magic with a distinct Pattern tang to it. William's eyes slide to that area, then a smile crosses his face. "Not to worry," he whispers to Czeller. "An ally." "The Princess?" Czeller whispers. He then shuts up, going down to one knee, studying the shadow. His whisper slips even lower then, too low for even the lieutenant to make out what he's saying. Unheard by Czeller, the conversation with Brieanne proceeds. Hmmmm..... Brieanne considered what she heard and turned to William across the way her voice the faintest whisper, as much thought as something truly heard with the ear. "The one breaks bad but reluctantly, the other is fully employed. Shall I grace their presence with my company?" \William's song ends as he continues to approach the carriage, leaning heavily on the young officer. In a whisper only a touch above a sub-vocalization he replies, "I shall leave the exact timing of your coming to you, huntress. I am hoping that we might be able to tease a little more information out of them through subterfuge, before resorting to harsher methods." "I can do both." There was no giggle, but her tone was bright and if they had been face to face he knew she would have. "I shall skulk along and pick my moment. Perhaps I shall cause a bit of a scene, or I shall storm this Red House of theirs with all the flamboyance our family is famous for." She seemed entertained by the entrance she imagined. "They have talismans allowing communication with their employer," Williams warns her quietly. "Those will have to be dealt with. And we have a probable current location for that employer; the mansion up the river that I mentioned to you previously." "I shall find a place between here and there to make my entrace, because I am not being introduced at a latrine...." she commented. "The talismans can be easily dealt with. The men too should you say the word." "Come on, Lieutenant," William says loudly and with a touch of annoyance in his voice. "You move too slow." He waltzes towards the carriage, spinning drunkenly as he sings, "Too slow, too slow, we've places to go, come on, come on, we're headed..." he hits the side of the carriage and bounces off it, almost falls, and continues in a slightly puzzled voice, "...not for home? That rhymes, don't it?" Brieanne slipped away, moving ahead to where the carriage would have to pass her. She waited to see how brisk a pace the coachman set, if not too speedy, she was ready to pace the team until she made her entrance. Behind her, the carriage door, on the latrine swings open. "Come back in, Prince" comes the voice of Neil. "We've places yet to go tonight. I'm sure that you aren't quite ready to go back to the Castle. Think of your reputation!" Backlinks |
