DagnyTheNegotiatorDagny The Negotiator"I would be interested in your mythology of Amber when time allows." Priya commented. "in the meantime, I think we have a great deal of work to do and an unknown amount of time. Unless someone can think of a specific need for me to stay, I would like to contact princess Fiona and my father so the mages can begin constructing defenses. Ostegos can stay and relay to me what I need shortly." Ostegos gives a nod of the head to Priya. Gerard gives a nod to Priya. "If the business now turns toward the politics of asylum and settlement, then you are not needed for the nonce, Priya. I thank you for your aid in this matter. You may go with my blessing." Aldris stands up and formally bows to Priya. "Sorceress." he says. His two silent guards rise but do not bow or remain seated. "Thanks, Priya. If you could please tell Aunt Fiona I'll be in touch with her shortly? I'll return her Trump to her then. I hope to see you later." Dagny smiles. "I will do so." Priya turned to Dagny, "and I will most certainly be at the castle later. Feel free to find me as time allows." Priya stepped to the side so there was a clear, measurable space around her. Her gaze lost its focus for a moment, all her attention tuned inward and elsewhere as she calculated her exit point, and then she was gone, leaving the briny smell of deep sea in her wake. "Rebman sorcery" Gerard comments absently, and then turns back to Dagny, Aldris, and Hadrian. He motions for the servants to refill coffee and replace food in front of everyone. After a sip of coffee, Gerard speaks. "Now, I understand, Dagny, that your home shadow has had experience in resettling populations and refugees due to the many conflicts ravaging it." Gerard says to Dagny. "Do you have any input or suggestions on the matter of finding a home or refuge for Aldris and his people?" "You are a warrior princess, then?" Aldris asks Dagny. If I could have managed a snort of derision in polite company, I would have. I settled for a tolerant smile instead. "Not exactly. Princess, yes. Warrior, sometimes, I suppose you could call it that. But the two are not related in the way I believe you think." "Perhaps I misunderstand." Aldris says. [Dagny] turned to Gerard. "The 'resettling' you are referring to was not always at the request or to the advantage of those being resettled, unfortunately, so the lessons I have learned are mostly along the lines of 'what not to do.' But I can think of a couple of ways to go about this." Gerard nods. "Proceed" he says to Dagny. "Clearly if we give you and your people refuge, Aldris," I said pointedly, "you understand that no matter how much autonomy we may permit you within any land we grant, you are agreeing that you will still be dutiful subjects of the King of Amber, and follow our laws. "If we might be allowed the right of local self determination." Aldris says. "I suppose a swearing of fealty would be the traditional method of ensuring loyalty? Become a vassal of the King?" "We can work out the exact wording later," I say. "The King may wish to place an official in your court as well." "A Governor General of some sort, or a Satrap, or an overseer" Aldris says, nodding, and looking thoughtful. [Dagny]" Gerard, do we have any maps of Amber and nearby Shadows, so we can see where we might have some free space?" Gerard beams at Dagny like a proud uncle. "Yes, we do." He motions to the servant, and a grand map is soon set on the table, plates and cups of coffee moved aside. The map depicts the landmass Amber and its environs are on. Familiar in one way or another to Dagny are the city, Kolvir, Arden, and Rebma. Less familiar names also show up on the map. The Vale of Garnath. Paths leading to Begma and beyond. Baylesport. "Amber is not that crowded." Gerard says. "But that means much of it is wild, and intended to remain such. I would not even dare to ask my brother Julian for room within Arden or near it. Dagny does see that the Coast, beyond Baylesport, is, at least on the map, sparsely marked. The Vale of Garnath only has a couple of hamlets as well. Most of the urban density is between Amber and Baylesport. Its as if the East Coast's population was between New York and Philadelphia, and only a few towns outside that belt. I study the map and realize I've been pursing my lips in concentration. I consciously relax my features. "Well, here's a question for you, Aldris. What do your people do? Are they farmers, artesians, shipwrights? Don't say loggers, or Uncle Julian will use your head as a punchbowl if you touch so much as a twig in Arden. Also, Uncle, how much land do you think the King can spare? That will factor in, of course. And I don't recall--did we get a head count of the refugees?" "My first officer estimated 5000 to 6000 people based on the size of the fleet." Gerard says. He looks at Aldris pointedly. "There are, as of this morning, 6128 souls that escaped and are aboard the craft we have." Aldris says. He looks to Dagny. "No, we are shipwrights. We would not have had as few as we did survive without our ships. And we work in basalt, obsidian, and glass." "A moderate sized town and farmland." Gerard muses. "Not as big as Baylesport, but a significantly sized community. On the Leanan Coast, for example." He indicates a stretch of territory, bluff country, north of Baylesport. "You have soldiers and mages, too, I see. They would have to be integrated into Amber forces, or disband." "Understood." Aldris says. He looks at Dagny. "I, we would want someone relatively familiar as a Satrap. Someone who has been to our lost city. The Princess, for instance." he says, looking at Dagny. Oh. Probably should have seen that coming. "I'm flattered, Aldris. Right now I'm in the middle of an Omphalos-related mission, so I'm afraid my time is currently spoken for. Besides which, I'm hardly the expert in diplomacy and law I imagine the King would want in such a position. I will stop by from time to time to see how you are getting on though. But Uncle Gerard," I continued, "while whatever remaining details are being ironed out, perhaps we can see to the immediate comfort of the refugees? Food, water, medical assistance? And also...I think my aunt was interested in meeting Aldris in person. Not here, of course." "The ship does not have supplies for six thousand souls of course." Gerard says. "And I would hate to have you handle the logistics of same. That will be work my sons can deal with, especially my newest." He nods to Hadrian. "With me, lad." "Excuse me for a moment. Dagny, you have the chair." Gerard rises and leaves the room with Hadrian behind him. "Thank you, Uncle," I nod as he and Hadrian leave. Aldris looks to Dagny. "Legal knowledge aside, it is better for one that knows the truth of a people to be their overseer. You know truths that only yourself, Hadrian and Priya have seen. Do you mean that Prince Hadrian would make a better satrap than you would?" "And who is this sister of which you speak?" he adds. "I wouldn't presume to put Hadrian's name forward, or anyone else's for that matter," I reply. "I'm sure you could ask him. The King might have his own ideas as well. The sister to whom I was referring," I changed tack, "was Princess Fiona. I contacted her when you told us who you were, and I believe she expressed an interest in knowing more of you." I pulled out my Trump. "As a matter of fact, I can contact her right now. May I?" Aldris nods in assent. "Please." [Dagny] will activate the Trump, but not speak aloud. :Aunt Fiona?: "Ah, good, Dagny. I was expecting a report from you, or perhaps Priya, although I suspect she will use a mirror to do so." Her eyes take in the scene around Dagny. "Negotiations with the refugees, I see. I presume you already visited the Mountain Imperial by means of the Trump I lent to you? I expect that is Osric's descendant you have with you." she adds. "And did my brother decide to be elsewhere when you decided to contact me?" she adds with a smile with just a touch of malice to it. I raise my eyebrows, as if mystified at her sudden vitrol. :Not at all, Aunt. Uncle Gerard had to take care of something, so I took the opportunity of contacting you. I thought you'd want to get a look at Aldris sooner rather than later.: "I do." Fiona says, the mood apparently gone as quickly as it came, judging from her tone of voice. "Aunt Fiona," I said out loud for Aldris's benefit, "This is Aldris, the man who says he is of Osric's line. Put your hand on my shoulder, Aldris, and you'll be able to join us in the conversation. Aldris, this is my aunt, Princess Fiona." Aldris cautiously places a hand on Dagny's shoulder. His drawing into the trump call, especially a trump call with Fiona, feels to him like plunging into a cold bath that Dagny feels the splash of cold water for standing too near. Fear, and strong emotion, and confusion wash off of Aldris and through the trump connection onto Dagny. "Ah, very good. So you are Osric's descendant." Fiona says. "I am Fiona." Aldris' voice comes out verbally as well as mentally. "I am Aldris." "My elder brother, I understand, had arcane interests, but you seem the more martial sort." she says. "Aren't you?" Her green eyes, through the call are piercing, appraising. "Y..yes." Aldris says. Again, its clear he does not know the trick of only speaking mentally in a trump call. "Pity" Fiona replies. "Not to be helped. You do the best of which you are able,I am sure. We'll see how much of my elder brother's blood is within you soon enough." "Now, Dagny." her regard and warmth increase a few degrees and those green eyes turn to Dagny. "Tell me what you, Priya and Hadrian found." "The place had been completely destroyed by volcanic eruption, somehow precipitated by the Omphalos using arcane means," I reply grimly. "I didn't even know destruction on that scale was possible. Priya says she understands how it was done, and she'd recognize the mage's magic if she saw it again." "There was no surviving evidence of the Broken Pattern there, Dagny?" Fiona asks. "The entire place was a total loss?" "The what?" Aldris asks, confused. "I do not know what you mean, Princess." "The design of power that was at the center of your world." Fiona says. "I know not what you call it." "Oh" Aldris says, enlightenment coming across to Dagny. "The Sigil. You know of it." Fiona just smiles, and looks to Dagny expectantly. "If it was there, we didn't see it," I answer. "Aldris, where was the Sigil located? Was it in or around the Tower?" "Some of our lore has it" Aldris says. "that my ancestor Osric found the Tower and Sigil both in our land. Others say that he raised it with his two hand and created the Tower and Sigil both with his power. I do not know the truth of either statement. I do know that the Sigil was at the center of the tower, both in terms of height and depth. Only his descendants were allowed access to that area of the tower." He swallows thickly. "But now the Porphyrous tower has fallen. The Sigil is lost." "Hmm" Fiona says. "Not underground, and not on the surface of the ground, either. Interesting." Halfway up is where, Dagny might recall, where the Tower was shattered and broken. "Say the broken Pattern was there when Osric found the Shadow," I say thoughtfully. "Would it have been floating in midair and he built the tower around it, or could it have been on higher ground that he somehow leveled?" -- "Air is too unstable" Fiona shakes her head. "Even something like the Arboreal Web is suspended inside of a net of immortal trees and was never in midair. No, Osric would have probably leveled a hill it was on or under. No idea why. Good deduction, Dagny." "I'm afraid I don't understand." Aldris says. "The Sigil is one of many broken Patterns, further reflections of the one true Pattern." Fiona says. "Dagny here has seen more than one. It seems my brother made a kingdom around the one you call the Sigil. But they are usually found underground or on the ground because the Pattern is often a representation of Earth and stability." "And they are often found near mountains." Fiona says, or looking at Dagny. "Including volcanic ones." "As a reflection of the one here, yes, that makes sense," I agree. "You'll have to tell me about the 'Arboreal Web' and its immortal trees sometime, Aunt. But, I should go soon and see if Uncle Gerard and Hadrian need some help with the refugees. Aldris, do you have any questions we might be able to answer right now?" "Many, but perhaps the Princess is not the correct person to answer them. Or does not have the time." Aldris pipes up. "Questions about the size and the nature of the family. Questions of my ancestor's role and place within the Family of Amber. What that means for the future of my people." "Indeed. Questions for another time. Perhaps when we meet in person. But what she will and can say, I will leave in Dagny's capable hands to answer as she sees fit." Fiona says. "I suspect that Priya will wish to speak to me in short order regarding the specifics of the Enemy, and you do, as you have said, have refugees to deal with. Is there anything else you need to tell *me*, Dagny?" Fiona asks. "Not tell, but ask," I say. "Excuse us, Aldris." "Err. All right." It takes a moment for Aldris to learn that moving his hand will break the connection, and then will himself to do so. He breaks from the contact, and steps away, regarding Dagny with a puzzled, studying expression on his face. I wait for Aldris to leave the connection before again speaking to my aunt mind-to-mind. :Well, Aunt, what do you think? Do you believe he is who he says he is?: "A true veracity spell would be more definitive proof." Fiona says. "As well, of course, tossing him on the Pattern and seeing what happened." she says with a mental chuckle of amusement. I somehow think you are not yet developed enough to appreciate the value of the latter, but I give you time." Fiona says. "You're still developing and growing. I do approve of your association with the Rebman sorceress, she will be an excellent model for your own growth in abilities." "But that's another matter." Fiona says. "His thoughts, when he expressed them, had the air of truth to them. If he is not Osric's descendant, it is not because he is actively trying to deceive you, it would be that his own information is bad. For example, if Osric had adopted a family in that shadow of his, rather than siring it." "I did sense the Spiral's imprint on him, however, a Broken Pattern, you might like to know." Fiona continues. "can be walked by those other than the Blood of Amber." "I hadn't heard, actually," I reply. "Have the Omphalos managed to do that also? Oh, I just thought of something completely unrelated to ask you." I try to project a completely open and innocent, "nothing to see here" vibe as I ask, "Have you ever heard of something called the Rashka? I heard the term somewhere recently and thought you might know something about it." Fiona smiles. "You briefly mentioned the Raksha before to me, Dagny, back when we were discussing matters with my grandson, and Dulcinea. I had said then that was a long and complicated subject. But clearly, it seems one that interests you for you to mention it again. I will elaborate." "The Raksha are a race of beings similar to the Yithonghu, in that a fair portion of their existence is spent in the Dreamlands." Fiona explains. "They are far less malevolent than the latter, I can assure you. And far older. You might consider them one of the Elder Races." "Have you been treating with one of them, Dagny?" Fiona says. "I have had disquieting intimations that various members of the Elder Races have been stirring, ever since the Shockwave that idiot Jayson created."
Fiona smiles. "Bide a moment" she says. "You have not answered my question. Have you been treating with one of the Raksha? I know that several family members have been making contact with Elder Races in recent days. Again, the doing of that idiot Jayson. For you to mention the Raksha, twice, suggests that you have done the same." "I will not press you as to the nature of that contact." She smiles. "Not *yet*. But I would know the circumstances of your question ere our business is done." Were I more familiar and comfortable with Fiona, I probably would have executed an exasperated eye roll. Instead, I settled for a long sigh. :No, Aunt, I have not been treating with any Raksha. It has just been an extremely, extremely long day and it's not over yet, which accounts for my mistake. You'd know if I were lying, I'm sure, and I have no reason to. I didn't mean to bother you with my silly questions, especially since you have been so patient with me. Now, Aldris will think I'm being rude, Aunt, and I'd rather not irritate any more members of the family than it seems I already have. Is there anything else before I sign off?: "Thank you." she replies. "You have given me extremely valuable information just now." she says. "And perhaps, yes, you should see to your guest before he gets into trouble. I understand his forebear had a tendency to do that. It would be unfortunate for him to follow in Osric's footsteps in that manner." Fiona smiles slightly. "Pleasant Dreams, Dagny" she adds with a slight smile, and ends the trump call. What the--did she--ARRRRRRRRRRRGH THIS FAMILY! Aldris is watching Dagny, waiting sign that she has finished the call with an anxious look as Dagny speaks. "First Trump connections can be unsettling. You okay?" Aldris shakes his head. "That was indeed unsettling. I could feel the weight of her mind, seeking entry into mine own." "Yeah. She's kind of like that in person too," I say wryly. "Maybe that wasn't the most gentle introduction into the world of Trump contact. But now you know what it's like. If you're interested, she thinks you might be the real deal and I'm inclined to agree with her. I'm sure she'll have more for you when you meet her in person. In the meantime, shall we go find Uncle Gerard and see how your people fare?" "I am not certain." Aldris says carefully, picking his words as a soldier might pick his way through a minefield "that I am in any great hurry to meet the Princess Fiona in person anytime soon, unless it is absolutely needful." He takes a breath and then pinches his nostrils, as if warding off a bloody nose. "Let us go and speak to Prince Gerard again." Dagny and Aldris find Gerard in the cargo hold of the ship, taking personal charge and seemingly personal delight in bringing items through a trump gate that is open. Presumably, given his absence in the hold, Hadrian is managing the gate from the other side. Ship personnel have formed a conveyor belt of people, passing these crates to a lift pulley which are bringing the crates to the deck of the ship and thence being loaded onto a boat. "Hello Dagny. Aldris. " Gerard says, turning after passing off a crate marked Oranges. "News from my sister?" he says, turning back toward the Gate expectantly. "How did you know, Uncle?" I said with a smile. "Well, she's of the opinion that Aldris here honestly believes he is telling us the truth about his ancestry, and he has the imprint of a Broken Pattern, or what he calls a Sigil, on him. That's not irrefutable evidence of course, but taken together I think it's very strongly in his favor. What is not in question is the attack by the Omphalos, and family or not, I'm happy to help in any way I can. Anything I can do now, Uncle Gerard?" "Its not proof" Gerard says. "And I do not think my sister dissembles in this." He looks at Aldris. "Looks like you're probably part of the family, son." Aldris nods. "I should...I should talk to my people for a minute or two." "Go" Gerard says. Aldris gives a bow of the head to Dagny and heads up and out of the hold. "Our bottleneck here." Gerard says. "is my son. He's only one guy, holding that gate open and helping passing stuff through from the Castle. If you want to help and speed up this relief effort, you could go through the Gate and give him a hand on that side. Faster we can do this, the faster we can get this all done." He lowers his voice. "The plight of Aldris' people is somewhat greater than what he let on. They really did run with not much, running toward us for lack of a better option, and half convinced they were being pursued. Are being pursued." "It sounds like these folks are lucky to be alive." I reply. "Freaking Omphalos. I can't help Hadrian with the gate, but I can help with the heavy lifting, so that's something. Excuse me, Uncle." With that, I make my way through the Trump gate. With a little bit of logistical planning and movement, Dagny steps through the gate, and into the bowels of Castle Amber. It appears to be a room in the dungeons or below the first floor, anyway, with large crates and barrels. A couple of servants are trying to move stuff to the gate as Hadrian and Dora maintain the gate. "Dagny" Dora says with a sibilant smile. It takes a moment for Hadrian to shift his concentration enough. "Hi Dagny. I'm guessing you're here to help." He gestures to the storeroom and its crates and barrels, the entire room more organized than a container store. "One of the emergency supply rooms. Years of food and other supplies here to outlast a siege. Dad figures to give some of these to Aldris' people. That's what we're doing now." "Hi Dora. Yes, Hadrian, I'm here to pick up and move heavy things." I demonstrate by carefully loading my arms with as much as I can safely carry. Given Dagny's strength, this is a fair amount, much more than the servants have been managing. I pause as I'm about to head back through the Gate and say, thoughtfully, "How is it you are doing that? Would you be able to show me how? Might help if we could spell each other off." "The Trump Gate?" Hadrian says. "Oh, this is a specialized form of trump energy, keeping open a freestanding portal of trump energy from a trump I previously activated. It requires..." "Hadrian" Dora teases gently. "Right" Hadrian says. "I'm not sure. Do you have any skill in manipulating trump energy, Dagny?" he asks. "That's what you would need to be a true anchor for it." "Not that I'm aware of," I say, crestfallen. "I picked up a few parlor tricks but know almost nothing about working with Trumps." "Not yet, perhaps" Hadrian says, taking hold of a crate of salted pork and passing it through the freestanding portal. "Do not fret, Dagny, helping me get the crates and barrels through faster is a blessing." "I do wonder" Hadrian adds conversationally. "just how heritable some of our skills are. I know your father is a trump artist, and a rather good one, given some of the things he has been able to do with them. I wonder if that ability on his part is something that you might have inherited." "I can't really draw," I say, a little wistfully. "Inheriting something like that would have been really nice too." Would have been nice if it'd gotten SOMETHING directly useful out of Luke being my father. "But I better get moving with this stuff, it's starting to get heavy. I'll be back." I head through the Trump gate, arms laden with supplies. "Thanks." Hadrian says. Dagny's contribution to the servants, and the sailors utilizing the Gate and handing off once and again, the work goes much faster than it has done previously. Hundreds of pounds of supplies are eventually transferred to Aldris' people by the time the operation is done. Even if he wasn't doing much physical work by the end, clearly, holding the gate open is as draining a process as lifting and moving 50 pound boxes and barrels. Gerard's son looks like has run a marathon, dripping with sweat and fatigue, by the time the last crate is sent through. "I feel like I could sleep a week." Hadrian says. "And eat a brace of turkeys. You might want to get through to the ship before I falter." "You look wiped," I agree. "Long as you don't need anything else, I'll go and tell the galley to brace itself." Dora, who is half asleep from her connection to Hadrian, manages to flap her wings in a sign of amusement. Hadrian gives a tired smile. I paused. "Completely unintentional pun." Assuming he's okay, I'll step through and ask the first crewperson I see to have a meal prepared for Hadrian. Hadrian does look ready for bed and food, in one order or another, but he maintains he is strong enough to finish the job. He's through the trump gate about ten seconds after Dagny tromps through, and is sat down by the insistence of the ship's cook upon Dagny's request. In short order, he is drinking milk (more than Dagny has seen anyone drink outside of the Indianapolis 500) and eating some sort of cooked poultry, perhaps a chicken. It's clear that he is going to follow this bender of hunger with bed time. "He's a fine son of the Admiral. Honest and hardworking." The cook says conversationally to Dagny. He pauses a beat. "How are you feeling, Princess?" the cook asks. "I do understand these trumps can take it out of those who use them." I admiringly watch Hadrian put all that milk and food away, and decide it would be too cruel to try and make him talk. "Oh, I'm fine, thanks," I said to the cook. "I didn't do much besides a little heavy lifting. Hadrian here did all the hard work. If all of my relatives were more like him I think we'd be a happier family overall." "It is true that the Admiral's son is forthright and honest. Although he was not raised by the Admirals as the Prince Twins were, he seems the same..." the cook stops his thought and returns to look at Dagny. "What about you? Have you served on this ship long?" He shakes his head. "The Admiral prefers to rotate crew members and give them experience with various vessels and classes of vessels in the fleet. He prefers an esprit de corps to the entire navy rather than bound to an individual ship. I've only served on the Peluda for two months. Before that I was on the Delphyne, the dreadnought of the fleet for three years. Twelve total in the Navy" He beats his chest. "I still think I am the best cook in the Navy no matter what size kitchen I'm given, though." "m' sorry, Dagny." Hadrian says, pausing from his food bender. "I'm ravenous." Dora has taken possession of a drumstick and is tearing it apart with a will. "Another chicken, then." The cook says. He dips his head to Dagny and heads over to the grill. I grin at Hadrian. "No sweat. You look wiped." Taking the opportunity to learn more, I say conversationally, "I didn't realize you weren't raised here in Amber. Did you grow up far from here?" Hadrian gestures for Dagny to sit down across from him. Dora's blue eyes gleam. Once Dagny does sit down, Cook does return with another chicken for Hadrian, and a chicken (and a glass of milk) for Dagny as well. "Thank you," I say to Cook. "Dora and I are from DuMarque." Hadrian says with Pride in his voice. "Not yet a Golden Circle shadow, although I think it should be and I hope to make that happen. Mountainous,snowy, glaciated, lots of fjords. Asteria told me that a place from your world, Nor-way, is a lot like DuMarque. Even some of the same foods and culture, she said. Of course, if I understand shadows right, since DuMarque is closer to Amber, that means this Nor-way is really based on DuMarque than the other way around. Have you been there?" he asks. "No," I say with a sigh. "I haven't gotten there yet. It's supposed to be beautiful country. What made you leave there and come to Amber?" "I've always been curious about my Amber heritage, but I had...have a good life in DuMarque. I'm one of the grandsons of the King, but there is absolutely zero chance that I'd inherit the throne." Hadrian says, alternating between bites. "So I was free to study Trump, learn some diplomacy, make some friends." "Dulssinea." Dora puts in. "Funny, that." Hadrian says. "Any way, Dagny, I was impelled to leave DuMarque and wind up, eventually, in Amber, thanks to a certain Blond Haired Man visiting my dreams. "That guy again," I muttered darkly. Hadrian nods. "Valerian, yes.He told me of the Omphalos threat, suggested my skills would be of use, and that I should come to Amber. And, more importantly, to try and find the Witch of Endor, first." He pauses, and his face falls. "Bhangbadea." I suddenly sat up straight. "Bhangbadea? I've been trying to contact her for ages, and can't seem to get through. Have you spoken with her recently? Is she all right?" Hadrian shakes his head. "I do not know if she is alive or dead, but I know where she is if she lives. She's pent, trapped in Corwin's Universe, seemingly cut off from our own by an immense gulf that my attempts at trumping her, and any of the others, have not broached." "I suppose its possible Corwin's Universe was entirely destroyed, and she, along with Alais, Oliver, Leigh and the rest as well." Hadrian says soberly. "I tell you this, Dagny, once this business with the Omphalos is all done, I am going to find a way to get at the truth, rescue her if I can. I owe her that much. At least." "Can I count on your help?" he adds. "Of course you can," I say soberly. "She was very kind to me when I first came to Amber, and I was concerned when I lost contact with her. As to Corwin's Universe, I was at his Primal Pattern, so as recently as..." I tried to tick the time off on my fingers and gave up trying to figure out how many absolute days it was, "recently. So I don't think it's been destroyed. But I will say that I was previously in a Shadow that contained a Broken version of Corwin's Pattern, and the Omphalos had invaded. So it may be that the Omphalos have somehow cut off Trump contact with the Shadow." "Perhaps." Hadrian says, stopping for a moment to tuck into, yes, more chicken. A few bites of a drumstick later (and a few bites for Dora), he speaks again. "I didn't realize you had been to Corwin's Primal Pattern. I understand, though, that is sitting in our universe, with the rest of his worlds hanging off of that like grapes off of a vine." He rolls his shoulders. "This is way beyond my ken, though. I just know, like you, that I want to repay her kindness and find out the truth." "She would do the same for us." I nod. "I think you're right. One thing at a time though. Right now I think our most pressing problem is the Omphalos invasion and wiping them off the map. Even more important in your case is probably finding a bunk somewhere and crashing for a few hours." Hadrian wearily nods in agreement. "When you wake up though...do you think we can talk a little more about this Trump business?" "Yes." he says, pushing himself away from the table. "We certainly can talk of the Art of Trump. I'm technically at O-Level, so I would be permitted to teach it, if we were in DuMarque. Since we're not...I don't think there are laws or rules about how it is taught. Matter of fact, I gather its rather secret around here." "Now" he says. "I think I am going to go find that bunk, Dagny. Until latter." Hadrian gets some directions from a midshipman, and, with Dora on his shoulder, heads out of the kitchen. Gerard comes in a moment later, his eyes alighting on Dagny and strides over. "I see you and my son helped get the supplies all through properly. Good work. I take it he is probably sleeping it off, now? You should probably take a watch worth of sleep, yourself. You've been active for a long time yourself." Gerard suggests. "I actually have no idea what day or time it is," I agree. "Early evening, Amber time." Gerard says. [Dagny] "Yes, Hadrian went to go find a bunk. Laying down for a bit myself probably wouldn't be a bad idea. Where should I go?" I'll follow Gerard's directions to a berth, take off my shoes and flop down on whatever surface presents itself. Of course, there's no telling whether I'll actually get rest even while dreaming... Remarkably, and perhaps to Dagny's relief, the bunk she is given is relatively large, and is in fact in a converted officer's bunk room. Two bunks have been set up, obviously for Dagny and Hadrian. The latter is sleeping deeply on one of the bunks, Dora curled up on his chest, in the matter much more like a cat than a dragon. Dagny's entrance disturbs him not at all. Dagny falls asleep very quickly, almost as soon as head and pillow unite. Despite it being a ship that rolls and moves on the wave, Dagny's long day, and efforts, prove to be the best defense against extensive dreaming. And without extensive dreaming, her presence in the dreamlands is limited, and she is too tired to initiate such efforts on her own, anyway. When the morning comes, its just past dawn, judging from the light. Dagny is up not long after, as it turns out, Hadrian and Dora awake. A chance to do her toilet and fresh herself up later, Dagny discovers from one of the midshipmen (midshipwoman as it so happens) that father and son are breakfasting, but she was given instructions to direct Dagny to join them--if she wished to break her fast with them. Else, she is more than welcome to return to the kitchens and do so there. "Thank you," I say to the midshipwoman, and head off to join Gerard and Hadrian. In short order, Dagny is conducted to the captain's cabin where the meeting with Aldris had taken place. A large spread is in place of maps and charts, a spread of breakfast foods that father, son, and Wyvernet are all looking over. "Thanks, Hadrian. Good morning Uncle, Dora." I say, as I help myself to some breakfast. "Good morning." comes the voice of Father, Son and familiar. "Dagny" Hadrian adds, continuing wiht effort to break away his attention from a link of sausage that might be more the size of a bratwurst on Earth. "Please join us." He waves his hand for her to come to table. "Aldris is with his folk at the moment." Gerard says. "And my son said you wished to talk shop with him today. I'm keeping him on board today while logistics are figured out. Our plan is likely to have us sail north to Baylesport and use that as our jumping off point. With the problems of the Omphalos in and around Amber, bringing the refugees there would do more harm than good." "That makes sense," I agree in between bites, in reference to Gerard's last point. "They might even be safer there, assuming that the Omphalos are not after them specifically--and if they are, no telling what will happen." "If the Omphalos do come, they will have to travel farther, and we will have the opportunity to deal with them." Gerard says. "I do have to speak to the King regarding resources for this. I'd like a few dozen Marines for each on my ships." "But when you say 'talk shop,' what do you mean, exactly?" I look at Hadrian inquiringly. "Talk about Trumps of course. You had asked me last night, at least I remember, that you wanted to learn more." Hadrian says. He spreads some sort of spreadable cheese on what looks like Norwegian flatbread, and has taken to eating this in alteration with the enormous breakfast sausage. "You did show interest and promise in wanting to learn more about the art. And its not as if Amber has a school for this sort of thing, as DuMarque does." I wasn't sure if I should feel elated or crestfallen. "But, Hadrian--when I told you that I wasn't an artist I thought that was it. If I can't draw a picture of a person, how can I create a Trump? Unless," I add with a wry twist to my mouth, "stick figures would work." Gerard snorts at the phrase "Stick figures" I grin at Gerard's reaction. "Most Artists I know come to Trump Artistry by means of talent in drawing or painting." Hadrian says between bites. "I have seen a few that couldn't draw an angle with a straightedge and a compass. However, they do manage to draw trumps, well enough to function. They have the arcane talent necessary to create a trump, and that arcane talent drives their creation." "If you *do* have the talent, Dagny" Hadrian says "then we can get you to draw a trump sketch, by making it an act of arcane conjuration and creation rather than imbuing a drawing." "You are a conjurer, already, aren't you?" he says. "Ummm...I don't know if I'd call myself a conjurer, exactly, I just sort of figured out that there's some stuff I can do." I concentrated for a second, doing my best to call up a ripe orange. The ripe orange appears on the table in front of Dagny, effortlessly. "I should draft you." Gerard says. "It would help prevent scurvy in the crew." "Parlor tricks, really, nothing fancy." I sharpened and lengthened my fingernails a bit to make it easier to peel the skin from the orange, which i do as I speak, letting the shapeshift go when I'm done. I offer some to the others before taking a segment for myself. "But if you're willing to teach, I'm willing to try to learn. Just try not to laugh." Dora takes a segment, and nibbles at it. Gerard and Hadrian devour theirs in much shorter order. "Its a real orange." Gerard rumbles. "You have real magical talent." He looks at her son. "You should see if you can teach her, son. You can use the second cabin once breakfast is done." "We'll give it a shot, cousin." Hadrian says. "And if it doesn't work, we'll just move on and chalk it up to a failed experiment." He pauses a beat. "More sausage?" I was genuinely pleased with this development. "No thanks," I reply to his last offer. "I'm just going to finish my coffee." As so I sipped on my coffee and waited until Hadrian was ready to start work. A quarter of an hour later, Hadrian, Dagny and Dora are in the second cabin of the ship, a somewhat smaller affair than the main cabin, but large enough to have a trestle table big enough for two. A pot of ink and paper have long since been put out and prepped. Dora sits on the table, letting her tail curl off the edge. "The key for you is to focus on the power, and let your hand do the drawing automatically." Hadrian says. "The easiest and best subject would be me, since if it has the slightest glimmer of trump energy, I'll feel the call without a mistake. So what I want you to do is to focus on the power and feel your way through making a sketch for me. Don't think about what you are drawing. Don't even look at what you are drawing." He points his right index finger at his eyes. "Look at me when you draw." "...Oooo-kay." How he expected me to draw without looking at the paper I had no idea, especially with, of all things, a dip-pen. But I took a deep breath, dipped my pen in the pot (getting ink on my fingers in the process, naturally), and....tried. For the first few moments, moments that feel far longer, Dagny's hand does not move. Nothing seems to occur. Dagny's second attempt is similarly unsuccessful, the pen does not move. The third, and perhaps final try at this, it is the focus on the power of Trump, and seeking to create something that finally breaks the logjam for Dagny. Conjuring an orange does not require Dagny to capture and create every pore, the magic and Will fill in much of that. The desire to come up with something that connects to the essence of Hadrian is similar. The difference, here is that it does not come out of thin air, but rather from Dagny's hand. She can feel her hand moving of its own accord, the lines coming to life. Without her explicitly remembering to, her hand returns to the dip-pot again and again. Hadrian does not blink, and holds the same position, like a statue, throughout the process. His fine control and ability to remain stock still is peerless. And twenty minutes later, Dagny's hand stops of its own accord. "There" Hadrian says. He breaks his stillness and grins. "See what you have done, Dagny." With a couple of ink spots elsewhere on the page (and on her fingers), her hand has created a sketch of Hadrian. Its not a stick figure by any means. Its a relatively clean and direct image, similar to sketches Dagny has seen in the work of Da Vinci. I was so stunned I was actually struck dumb. I looked up at Hadrian wide-eyed, down at the sketch, and back up again. Hadrian is smiling like the cat that ate the canary. Dora gives off a laughing hiss. I pointed at him, and repeatedly stabbed my finger down on the drawing, completely flabbergasted. Well, why not test it? I concentrated on the sketch and tried to make contact with the subject. If it works, I believe the first thoughts emerging from the jumble of crap in my head would be something like, *What the holy hell?!* "It's called a trump sketch" Hadrian says. No, he doesn't speak that aloud. No, its definitely a trump sketch, and it definitely has linked Dagny to Hadrian's mind. Dagny has a strong enough mind that, once she can compose herself beyond her surprise, she can see the link from Hadrian to Dora, like a shining connection, almost like a permanent trump link of sorts.
"Detecting trump energies is much like detecting other arcane energies." Hadrian says mildly. "Which I know you must know how to do, or be capable of, because of your conjuration. The methodology and p...p." "Paradigm" Dora fills in. "Ja, paradigm." Hadrian says. "The methodology and paradigm is up to you. I try and imagine the world as a painting, and the trump infused objects just jump out at me. For you, you might prefer a less artistic approach." "As far as not having a person in front of you, we're going to try some exercises with that next." Hadrian says. "Landscapes and locations, particularly." "I'll try," I agree. "What do you suggest?" I poise my pen over paper, ready. "A place you know very well. Familiarity will make this process easier." Hadrian regards Dagny and grins. "So perhaps not Castle Amber, but a place on your Home shadow instead? Getting back would be no difficulty, especially since I can call you a few minutes later." "A real challenge would be, after going through, to make a trump sketch of this room, but one step at a time, I think, Ja?" At this point, there is a knock on the cabin door. Hadrian gets up to answer it, and Dagny can see him in conversation with Priya's man Ostegos. Home Shadow? Well, where's someplace I know well, where nobody would notice a person materializing out of thin air? Manhattan, of course. I decided to concentrate on the outside of the office building where I used to work. It was an awfully familiar sight to me, having passed through those doors nearly every day for over a year, but generic enough that someone finding the sketch wouldn't be able to identify it. Assuming no interruptions, I'll begin. Hadrian seems to be in an animated conversation with Ostegos, but there is otherwise no interruption or impairment to Dagny;s attempt. Over the next fifteen minutes, Dagny's entire attention is set to the task at hand, to the exclusion of all other things. She only notices that Dora has landed nearby and is watching the process, as well as Hadrian, once the line of the skyscraper, the details of the cab in front of the building on the street, and people populating the sidewalk in front of the Manhattan edifice are all detailed and done. Again, like the sketch of Hadrian himself, Dagny is not sure how she did what she has done. The crosshatching to show the shadow of the building seems as natural as every other one of the impossible details. "A modern, technological city, is it?" Hadrian asks, once Dagny comes to her senses again and can see her work. I don't know if I'll ever get used to this sensation--that I've created something almost unconsciously, and have no idea what I'm doing till I'm done. I sat back in my chair and admired the sketch. "Sort of," I replied to Hadrian. "It's a unusual mix of modern and antique, with some ancient thrown in for good measure, that I haven't found replicated quite as perfectly anywhere else. They love their technology but show respect for their history as well. This city also hosts one of the Shadow's greatest and most eclectic art collections. I think you'd really like it." I was inexplicably feeling a little sad now. "Should I try to go through?" "You sound like you miss home." Hadrian says. "And when are we going to have the chance to see it again, with all that is happening?" "I want to come with you and see this art collection. Besides, this will make it easier for you to get back." As he says this, he gets a piece of paper. In a neat penmanship, he writes a note and uses the inkwell as a paperweight. "Father. Gone off to the big city with Dagny Be back later. H" He strokes Dora on the head affectionately. "I'll be back soon. Take care of things while I'm gone." "Take care of him." Dora says to Dagny. "We'll use my trump of Dora to get back." Hadrian explains to Dagny. "Simple and easy." "I will, Dora. Promise. Hadrian, just to warn you," I chuckled, "art is situated in many buildings around the city, and even throughout the city itself. To see it all would take months, if not years. But we can visit one of the more comprehensive collections. I hope you'll like it." "Deal" Hadrian says. I concentrated on the sketch, and once activated, draw myself and Hadrian through... Dagny's trump sketch works like a charm, and it draws Dagny and Hadrian through the transport, and onto the street in Midtown Manhattan. It appears to be morning, sometime just past rush hour. Some weeks have gone by since Dagny was here, its now spring judging from the clothing and the temperature. Hadrian lifts his head to look at the tall buildings. Both Dagny and Hadrian don't get too many looks, but someone mutters "Ren Faire" when looking at him, walking ahead toward the nearby subway station. Hadrian is still, like a tourist in New York, craning his head up at the skyscrapers.He finally stops and looks at Dagny sheepishly. "They're as tall as hills!" The Trump sketch, by the way, has turned into ash in Dagny's hand. "Yes they are," I said, smiling, as I gently guided him further up the sidewalk and out of the way of foot traffic. Then I turned my attention to the sketch. "Is it supposed to do that? The others didn't." "We overused the Trump" Hadrian explains. "A Trump sketch is nowhere near as stable or long lasting as a card, and transporting two people through a sketch over a considerable shadow distance caused the trump energies to consume the medium..." He stops. "I'm doing it again." he says. "Aren't I?" "No, you're fine," I answered. "I asked. Now I understand." Dagny's trump sketch has taken her and Hadrian to Park Avenue somewhere in the 70's, 75th street to be precise. So its not terribly far to walk. This allows Hadrian to act like a tourist, staring at a hospital, churches, and of course the tall buildings until their steps take them to the edge of Central Park and the Museum itself. "This front looks like something out of Maeonis." Hadrian says excitedly, putting his hand on one of the columns once they have climbed the steps. "I've never seen a Museum so big. This is the size of a royal palace!" He pauses ."It wasn't once a palace, was it?" he asks. "This isn't one of those sorts of places where the King was killed and deposed?" "No," I said, suppressing a smile. "No kings here in this country. As I understand it, this building was built just to house works of art, over a hundred years ago. It :is: a beautiful building, isn't it? But wait till you see inside." "Well, let's see what wonders you have to show me, inside." Hadrian says. He stops a moment and looks at the entrance again, studying the building once more. "A century ago, and such change in architecture." Hadrian marvels. "Those tall buildings were so much younger..." "Good eye," I said, impressed. Finding money for the admission is no challenge for either, and the giant layout of the Museum lies at their feet. And for the next couple of hours, Dagny has the ability to show Hadrian a portion of the Museum. Hadrian's motion is stutter, stop, staring at the Greek and Roman art , rushing when Dagny brings him through the Egyptian section, marveling at the European paintings and sculpture. A couple of hours later find both in the Temple of Dendur, with the setting sun casting light into the room. All of the walking on the hard floors have finally led to sore feet. "I can see why this shadow has been so important." Hadrian says, a rumble in his stomach proving that he is, indeed, a son of Gerard. "All of these cultures...I've seen stuff like this throughout the Golden Circle. Your, Aunt Flora, Uncle Corwin's Earth has had things borrowed from all of them. And we didn't even see the half of this place." He has in his lap a thick guidebook that he bought, with Dagny's help, in the giftshop. "I am going to have to return to this Museum sometime." he says. "And you said this city was full of Museums and art galleries?" "I did, and it is," I agreed. "There's another nearby you might like as well--a friend of mine recommended it. But personally, I'm wiped, and we should probably get back before your dad gets to worried. Plus, I'm sure there's plenty for us to do. What do you say?" The slightly disappointed tone in his voice is somewhat masked but not completely. "Ja." he says. "You are likely right. We are, what's the phrase Lorius used? Playing at hooky too long here. Being indulgent. Father will have things for us to do with the refugees. And if not him, then the King will." "We can always come back," I said, consolingly. "You deserved a break after what you did with that Trump gate, anyway." He pulls out his trump deck and shuffles it until a card showing Dora on a battlement of a Castle overlooking a pine forest appears. He concentrates on it, and offers Dagny his hand, and in short order they are back on board Gerard's ship. Fortunately, the time flow was in their favor, and instead of the three hours away, they've been gone about an hour and a half. "You are wiped." Hadrian says. "But before we get wrapped up in another project, let me suggest you practice doing a sketch every day.As you saw, they don't last long, but it will help reinforce your skills." "Good idea," I agreed. "You know what? I'll do a sketch of the museum, so we can go back there directly. And since I can hear your stomach growling from here, why don't you find something to eat before we're put back to work." I settled down the paper and pen, and began. Hadrian chuckles, and with Dora heads off to get food, and, presumably, talk to his father. Dagny has an unmolested half hour to work on the Museum trump sketch (which turns out just as well as her previous efforts) and to take stock. When Hadrian and Dora do return, he lightly tosses a wedge of hard cheddar cheese in Dagny's direction. "It's not bad. We make a lot of cheeses in DuMarque, but this is Amber in origin I think. Sharp." "Told Dad about your success." Hadrian adds, nibbling on a piece of cheese he had saved for himself. "He is, as you might expect, extremely enthusiastic about the idea of you being able to do logistics." I caught the cheese and took a bite. "So am I," I replied, in between chews and admiring my sketch. "Heavy lifting is only so useful, you know. I wonder what my dad will think when he finds out I can do this now." Hadrian walks over and looks at the sketch. He looks away before his stare and regard might activate the trump, and gives off a sound of approval. "This will do very nicely indeed." "Itsss very good, Dagny." Dora adds approvingly. "Your father is King Rinaldo of Kashfa, isn't he?" Hadrian says. "I understand he has taken ideas of Trumps in interesting directions. Trump Traps and finding shadows where trumps are blocked, and trumps where he can talk to the Pattern and Logrus." "I have no idea how much of that is true." Hadrian says. "You don't talk to him much, do you?" he adds. "Thank you both. Yes, he is, and no, I don't, in that order," I answered. "To be honest, it wasn't that long ago, absolute time anyway, that I even found out who he is. But if you wanted an introduction so you can talk shop or swap war stories, I'm sure I could arrange that. Now," I said, rubbing my hands in anticipation, "Is there anything for us to help with now?" "We're at a lull for the moment, thankfully." Hadrian says. "Dad says the next step is logistics once we get into port and finding accommodations and dealing with the local magistrate. We should be sailing into port by the end of the day, though, assuming fair winds and no gales off of the coast to slow us down." "So, Dad says we can do what we wish in line with the resettlement efforts." Hadrian takes another bite of cheese. "We can trump ahead and deal with the local Duke ourselves, use Dad's seal and chop for the purpose, if you are feeling inclined. We also do have a couple of mysteries to solve regarding Aldris' shadow and origins, to say nothing of the Omphalos." "Good God. I need to start keeping notes to help me keep everything straight." Especially since I had a couple of private missions of my own to worry about. "Why don't we go ahead and get everything set up on shore, then start with the other stuff. Sound good?" "I think I was lucky in being raised in a different royal family." Hadrian says. "I'm used to relatives giving me assignments and tasks. Dora and I had to carve out time and relaxation where and how we could." "We'll grab Dad's seal and borrow a place trump for Baylesport and ride from there up to Umberkeep." Hadrian says agreeably. "That's the citadel of Duke Feldane, who we are going to be talking to about the refugees. It's a relatively wild area northeast of Amber, past Baylesport." Hadrian grins. "It will give you a chance to practice your trump sketching skills, too. I'll want to make a trump sketch of the keep, too, to save us too much horseriding." "Yay, I can be useful," I replied. "Have you met this Duke? What is he like?" Hadrian shakes his head. "I have not, so this will be an educational experience for all of us. An effort in learning diplomacy and how to negotiate on behalf of the Crown." He shakes his head slightly. "And I think you would be useful even if you weren't going to make a trump sketch." "We can go get the seal and trump and leave whenever you are ready." Hadrian adds. "I assume you know how to ride? I don't remember a lot of horses in New York, though." "I do, a little. Self taught mainly. So any tips you can give me would be appreciated. Well, this will be an adventure, won't it?" "It will" Hadrian confirms. "C'mon, let's go tell Father." Ten minutes later, Gerard is handing Hadrian a ring that is probably size 15 if not more. Hadrian doesn't even try to put it on a finger, instead holding it on his palm. It's white gold, with a seal in the shape of a sailing ship. Gerard's symbol. "The two of you, be careful." Gerard says seriously, as he hands the trump of Baylesport to Dagny. "You will be in the friendliest of friendly territory, but this appearance of Aldris' fleet, and those damned Doors prove that trouble can brew up faster than a storm in the Outer Seas these days, and anywhere. Don't be stupid. Both of you can call for help. Don't hesitate. Do it." "Understand?" he says seriously. "Yes, Uncle," I agreed. "Before we go, do you have anything you can tell us about the Duke? Just so we're not walking in blind." "The Duke is the new Duke, his father died in his bed at age one hundred and seventeen six seasons ago." Gerard says. "He's thirty, himself. Child of a relatively young wife. Elder brothers and sisters wound up dead during Patternfall. So, he is relatively untested in his capacity as head of the Feldanes, this could make him sensitive or overly aggressive. Just remind him which side of the dog he is on, and you will be fine." Gerard says. "You are both members of the Amber Royal Family, and recognized Prince and Princess of the realm. Just make sure he keeps that in mind and you will be fine." "He might try to dangle his younger sister at you." Gerard says to Hadrian. "Watch out for that." He looks back at Dagny. "He does have a baby brother, but I think you are not going to be charmed by a nine year old." "Uh, no. But I take it he is married, or I'd be hurt that you didn't warn me as well," I say, smiling. Gerard gives a nod. "Thanks for the heads up. Shall we, Hadrian?" "Do let's." Hadrian says. In short order Hadrian, Dagny and Dora use the trump, and find themselves far to the north of the Peluda and Aldris' flottila, and instead are in the second largest city in Amber, Baylesport. By the standards of Amber, Baylesport is not much of a city, but it does have a city wall, and a small keep on a hill in the center of the town, not far from its marketplace. "Any preference in horse type?" Hadrian asks casually, walking toward the hill and the keep. "It'll be easier to get the Lord Mayor to give us two than to try and negotiate with an independent contractor. We might be royals, but we're not quite well known, yet, I think, to avoid argument." "Not really," I reply. "Something easily rideable, that's all I ask. By the way, is it customary here to bring a token gift when visiting someone? We have a few minutes, and I could try to conjure up something." "The Lord Mayor, you mean, or the Feldane we're going to go see?" Hadrian says. "Two completely different ranks, and types of gifts. The Lord Mayor is appointed by the nearest noble, generally, although Baylesport is its own fiefdom, and a holding of the King. So I *think* he just reports to Uncle Random." "The Mayor might like something symbolic of the Crown. Lord Feldane would be more open to something idiosyncratic, personal and individual from you." Hadrian says. "Do you have to eat a lot or something after lots of Conjuring, like getting tired from Trump creation and use?" Hadrian asks. I considered Hadrian's question. "You know, I don't know. I haven't used it much, and only for little things. I haven't noticed any unusual hunger or fatigue so far. But anyway, yes, both. Since we're representing the Crown, visiting them and asking for favors, it's only polite, I think. Ummm...I'm no good at these things. For the mayor...what about a desk set? You know, a letter opener, pen, etc., with the crest on it? Good for taking care of official documents. For Lord Feldane...mmmeheh." I made a non-committal noise. "Surely the guy has money, so nothing flashy, that would be tacky. Something clever and unusual." I thought about it. "Do you have Sherlock Holmes stories here?" "A pen and letter opener with the crest of the Royal Family would be a mark of favor upon the Lord Mayor." Hadrian agrees as he walks with Dagny toward the path that leads up to the keep on the hill. As they mount it, Dagny can slowly see more and more of baylesport laid out beneath her, looking for all the world like a movie set come to life.** "As far as this Sherlock Holmes stories, I do not think they are well known here. Cousin Lorius tried to explain one to me, but I lacked the referents to understand. However, printing and books are still relatively primitive in Amber, Dagny. A book, especially a book of tales unknown, would be, as you say, a clever gift." The Keep isn't anywhere near as impressive as Castle Amber, but looks sturdy enough. The guards look at them expectantly. "Well, that's a mercy," I replied. "And easy enough. I'll have to think of something for his lady as well." As we approach the Keep, I concentrate on conjuring up the Mayor's gift. I'm aiming for a fine pen and letter opener, marked with the royal crest, in a handsome blue leather case. The seal from Hadrian appears to be good enough as identification and without difficulty, Dagny and Hadrian are brought to the Lord Mayor's Court. Although his title is Mayor, it looks to Dagny very much like a throne room, although he sits in a low chair with a higher, empty chair on a raised dais next to it. "It is an honor to meet two of the Royal Family of Amber." the Lord Mayor says. "I am Silas Chorn, mayor of Baylesport these past ten years. How may I serve the Crown?" "Hello, Mayor Chorn, it's a pleasure to meet you," I reply, taking a deep breath. Here goes the flourish. "May I introduce my cousin, Hadrian, son of Prince Gerard? And I am Dagny, daughter of King Rinaldo of Kashfa. Before we get to business, may we ask that you accept this gift on behalf of our family?" I hold out the case for him to accept. "It is an honor to accept a gift from the Royal Family of Amber." The Mayor says. rising and taking the case. He opens it and studies the contents, smiling widely. "The generosity and thoughtfulness of the Crown is appreciated most profusely." Silas says, closing the case and putting it to the side with a pat. "I confess that I was unaware that Prince Gerard had a third son, and that the King of Kashfa had a daughter, and one recognized as a member of the Royal Family of Amber. Do you hold such rank in Kashfa as well, Princess Dagny?" "And surely, you did not travel here, by trump if my sources tell true, merely to affirm ties of fealty between Baylesport and Amber? Unless Prince Bleys seeks another cask or three of wine?" Since Hadrian seemed content to let me take the lead, I continued. Chuckling at what I guessed was a joke, "Not that I'm aware of, Lord Mayor, and I'm sorry that our purpose is not of such pleasure-seeking, although your sources are remarkably well-informed. In a nutshell, ships of refugees fleeing an attack of unprecedented proportions on their Shadow have petitioned for asylum in Amber; my cousin and I are on official business for the Crown related to this matter. And for that," I continued, "we would ask for your help in securing appropriate mounts." I looked to Hadrian to see if he had anything to add. The Lord Mayor seems absolutely stunned by Dagny's explanation. His eyes look at Hadrian even as Dagny's do. "Do you have anything to add, Prince?" the gobsmacked Mayor asks. "Only that my father Prince Gerard is leading the effort to deal with the refugees, and that is why we are here on the Crown's business. Any help and aid beyond mounts for our journey to Ummankeep would be most appreciated." The Lord Mayor looks at the pen set dumbly for a moment, and then looks up at Dagny. "Very well, you'll have food, quarters, and fresh mounts for the ride in the morning. If you might dine at the High Table with me tonight, that would be a great honour." Hadrian gives Dagny the slightest of nods suggesting acceptance of the offer. Taking Hadrian's cue, I replied, "Thank you. The honor is ours." I wondered vaguely about dress codes and the like, but figured one of the servants would be able to clue me in. "Now I'm sure you have other business to attend to, Lord Mayor--is there some place you suggest my cousin and I might be comfortable in the interim?" "Quite." The Lord Mayor says. "The servants will see your quarters and other needs. Until dinner. Princess. Prince." In short order Dagny and Hadrian are escorted out by servants and installed in a pair of rooms in another wing of the Castle. The rooms aren't quite as nice as those in Castle Amber, but seem to be high within the Castle. It's a bit drafty, and the evening chill settles in the room where Dagny and Hadrian can talk. "I thought I would take you take the lead and be the face." Hadrian says. "Its good practice, and I didn't want the Lord Mayor getting any bad ideas on your status and rank. I suspect that he is going to be most curious about your father at dinner tonight. As well as the refugees." "I appreciate that," I say slowly, "but he'd never heard of you either, and you weren't concerned about your status and rank. Unless this is a matter of genealogy, and whatever in the hell Luke did while knocking around Amber is going to haunt me as well." "It's your grandfather, to be honest." Hadrian says. "That is what is probably going to haunt you." "Unfair" Dora adds "Right," I said grimly. "Sins of the grandfather, and all that." "It is." Hadrian agrees. "But I understand some of the family in Amber have judged unmet newcomers by their official trump card. Reading into the symbols and how you look and all that" Hadrian says. "So since I don't have one of those, they only go by my heritage. Because clearly, I'm totally interested in destroying the universe and making it over in my image. Whatever." "Well, your father DID try to blow up the family, and did murder Caine." Hadrian says. "So..." he shakes his head. "Ah. Right." Teeth grinding ahoy. "I've been a won't ever inherit grandson of a King most of my life." Hadrian says. "Becoming Cas and Pol's brother has been easy. Old habits. I get the feeling Gerard wants more from me, though." "What about you, though" he asks. "What about your relationship with your father?" "Practically nonexistent," I replied. "It wasn't too long ago I found out who and what he was. Kind of throws you off, finding out that everything you believed about the nature of the universe isn't true, and that your long-lost dad is king of a magical faraway kingdom. It's something that belongs in books, not in my reality." I opted to change the subject. "What is it that you think Gerard wants you to do? More importantly, what do YOU want to do?" "We're still trying to figure that out." Hadrian says, leaning against a wall and pressing his palms back against it. He rocks back and forth. "I'd been looking for my father all of my life, and like you, it was a shock when my convictions and beliefs turned out to be true. I was the child of a Prince of Amber, like I thought." "I think I make Dad a bit uncomfortable, though." Hadrian continues. "You know Gerard is married for a long while, right?" he says. "Castor and Pollux are his children by his wife. Portia is somewhat jealous and possessive of her status and role." "Our first meeting did not...go well." Hadrian admits. "I think its upset Dad or at the very least caused strife between them. I'm proof of his." he frowns. "infidelity." "Well that's hardly your fault," I said, mirroring his frown. "If he was upset learning that you existed, that's his problem, not yours." "I think, although I only briefly met her, that Portia is not happy with the existence of Toireasa, either." Hadrian responds. I could have said something very rude here, and among those who knew me better I probably would have, but I refrained for the moment. "Actually, I'm surprised. Gerard seems like a decent guy, the sort that would own up to his mistake and welcome you into his life, and probably end up buying his wife something very, very shiny by way of apology. I take it your mother never told you the truth? How did you find out what you were?" "Mom died when I was young." Hadrian says. "It was a matter of public record, and what she told me, that she believed I was the son of a Prince of Amber. She met a couple, you see, at a diplomatic conference." "I spent years trying to gather information on what happened." Hadrian says. "Dora and I went to the shadow, talked with people, we went through records. In between exploring the Golden Circle of course. It was a lot of hearsay, though." Hadrian says. "No proof." "And then I had a visit from Valerian." Hadrian says. "He said that I was right, I was a descendant of Amber, and that I should go to Amber. He did ask me a boon for telling me this, though. He had me go and seek out one of our relations whose dreams he could NOT get into." Hadrian stops, a lump in his throat. "Bhangbadea" Dora says what Hadrian does not. "Did you know of her before Valerian sent you looking for her? And did you learn where she was?" "I had not heard of her by name." Hadrian says, shaking her head. "I'd been to Ersia, knew there was a 'witch' there. The advantage to being a trump artist, Dagny, is that you only have to walk to or sail to a place once, and then you can go whenever you want. Dora and I have explored around DuMarque as much as duties allow to do just that." "Valerian said that she was a child of Amber, a sorceress and would help me if I plead my case to her. So I trumped to Ersia and asked a local lord to send a summons to her. For once, I played the prince, you see." Hadrian explains. "She came, we talked, and we shadow-walked to Amber." Hadrian says. "I confirmed I was really a Prince of Amber that night I walked Tir's Pattern, and Aunt Fiona proved my heritage." he explains. "After that...I talked to Dad about it all." "I walked Tir too. It was freaky up there, in the clouds." "How did you find out who and what you are?" he asks Dagny. "How did it get broken to you?" "He had his attorney send me a letter," I said flatly. "Very businesslike, very impersonal. I went to the attorney's office and he dropped the bomb. So Luke was spared the inconvenience of traveling to see me, as well as experiencing firsthand my reaction to the news, or being immediately available to answer any of my questions, leaving me to cool my heels till I calmed down. Convenient, no? I headed to Kashfa and briefly met him before I took off. I eventually met Bhangbadea, who accompanied me to my home Shadow, to help me break the news to my family. She was very kind to me, and I have been trying to contact her ever since we parted ways. No luck though." "That is something we can both work on, as we grow your skills." Hadrian says. "Trump artists combining talents can manage feats incapable of both one. It helps if both artists know the subject. You do, you're willing. It would be a good exercise in your education anyway--to learn how to combine power." "I can't imagine Gerard, or any of the other candidates sending a letter to inform me of my heritage. Come to think of it, I can't imagine any of the other Princes and Princesses I met doing the same." Hadrian regards Dagny. "I am sorry your father has not shown the compassion and respect you are due. How are things goiing forward with him? You've not been named his heir or anything, have you? Have you met his mother ? I've heard stories of her." "Chaosian" Dora says with a flutter of wings, nervously. "Oh my," I said, suddenly amused, but trying not to show it. "Chaosian. Scary thought. Are they really as bad as everyone says? And no, I haven't met her, nor heard any stories, so if you've got any I'd love to hear them. As far as Luke is concerned, I haven't been named anything other than his daughter. For all I know he's got others hanging around somewhere, so no guarantee of primogeniture there. Besides, if he's married, I'm sure any kid born in wedlock would take precedence over a bastard daughter. What do I want with a kingdom, anyway? As it is, I can go anywhere, and do anything, all without ever having to worry about about money or finding a place to live. Running a country would get in the way of my fun." I paused to consider. "At some point I guess I'll have to sit down with him and work all this out. I'm getting too old to deal with angsty familial relationships." Hadrian nods. "Family is important at the poles of reality and unavoidable with their long life spans." He goes over to a decanter of wine, pours himself a glass, looks to Dagny to see if she wants some, and soon resumes his spiel. "Jasra is, was a friend to Dara. You know, Merlin's mom, Queen Mother of Chaos? When Uncle Brand, Aunt Fiona and Uncle Bleys went to Chaos to find help in overthrowing Oberon, Brand fell for Jasra, and vice versa. Anyway, mother and son followed Brand, kind of, made their way to Kashfa, and your Grandmother helped pave the way to get your Dad on the throne, by sleeping with, bribing, blackmailing and even assassinating the right people. Poison kiss and bite, I've heard." Yikes. "Sounds like a wonderful woman. Explains a lot about Luke, actually. If I were him I'd consider neglect better than whatever the hell kind of parenting that was." But...poison bite? Hm. "You might not want to run a kingdom, Dagny, but that is definitely your grandmother's thing. Last I heard, speaking from the perspective of the Golden Circle, she's on the outs with your Dad, and not in Kashfa." He sips his wine. "You know, if you don't reconcile with Luke, and Jasra finds out about you, she'll try to recruit you to her plans." "Of course she will," I said darkly. "Because she can't just say, "Hey, Dagny, I'm the grandmother you've never met, I'm so pleased to meet you, why don't we get to know each other?' Instead it's "Aha, fresh blood! Come help me conquer the universe!'" Hadrian laughs. "No, probably just try to make you replace your father as ruler of Kashfa or topple Amber somehow." He laughs again. "Oh, is that all?" I muttered. Calming down, Hadrian continues. "Luke, even married to Queen Nayda, doesn't have any heirs, yet. I think legally you are the heir, even if you are a bastard." Sounds way different to hear someone else say it. "I guess that's one of those things I need to hammer out with him. I'm surely not his first choice to run the place, and probably don't even break the top ten. So...whatever he was going to do before he found out about me..." "Try and get a child on his queen, of course." Hadrian says. "Baring that, trying to keep his mother from manipulating the succession too badly. She probably would take it badly if Luke let some random noble in Kashfa take the kingship from him, from her family." "Anyway" Hadrian says. "I think you're doing well for this project of Uncle Gerard's, Dagny." he beams. "We are rising to the challenge." "I hope so. Sooo what shall we do to kill time? Should I try another sketch, or do you want to wander around a bit?" "Well, we're in a relatively quiet and not extremely scenic area east of Amber." "No mountains." Dora clarifies. "No mountains." Hadrian says. "We have a couple of hours. So, student Dagny, I think we should have you make a trump sketch of this room, so we can return, and then you can make another sketch, of somewhere. Anywhere." "Very well. Is there paper and a pen?" "I always carry materials with me." Hadrian says, producing paper and a pen. "Some of the masters in the Trump School in DuMarque have created trumps of supplies and favored objects. I sat down and started to concentrate on my sketch of the room. And now, where to? I wondered how a Trump to Shadow Dayla would work, considering that I needed a certain song playing to access it. Better leave that till later. Though what if I worked the appropriate musical notation into the picture? Not obviously, of course. Hey, I know. And it would surprise the shit out of Luke. No guarantee he'd even be in-shadow, of course, but I started a sketch of the room in Kashfa I had last been in when meeting my father. Unlike the first sketch, Hadrian doesn't stare or watch as Dagny composes. He instead closes his eyes and presses his fingers to his temple, as if fighting off a headache. Dora folds her head inside a wing and closes her eyes as well. The sitting room, with its colonial appearance, the dark furniture, wall hangings and map come easily to mind. When Dagny finishes, as she finishes the last line of the pencil, Hadrian (and Dora) open their eyes. "Was testing and practicing my sense" Hadrian says. He looks over the room. "Risterion?" he asks. "I had no idea you'd been there." I frowned at the sketch. "No, that's supposed to be Kashfa. Where exactly is Risterion?" "Risterion is on the outer fringes of the Golden Circle." Hadrian says. "It IS in the process of being dominated and colonized by Kashfa. The locals don't appreciate that, much." "Noooo" Dora agrees. Looking at the sketch again, Dagny is sure she had the right room, and remembers that Luke had talked about Risterion briefly in terms of the furniture. "So, this is a room in Kashfa with a lot of Risteronian furniture, then." Hadrian guesses. "Royal Palace?" "No, I think you're right," I said, flatly, inexplicably irritated with Luke all over again. "It's probably Risterion. I wouldn't know one Shadow from another, anyway. But thanks for the heads up. Shall we go?" "Certainly" Hadrian says. "it's either that or drink lots of the Bayle vineyard here and wait for dinner interminably. Let's go see Risterion." The trump sketch works like a charm, transporting Dagny, Hadrian and Dora way from the chilly evening edifice in Baylesport, to the much warmer room depicted in the sketch. Sunlight is streaming in from a window, casting a bright beam on the dark wood low table. Hadrian drifts over to the window to get his bearings. In the meantime, there is the sound of approaching footsteps. Several sets of booted footsteps, marching toward the door. "That's Jidrash outside." Hadrian says. "We *are* in Kashfa." "I take it you've been here before then? If that's the case, I'm surprised you didn't meet Luke. Now let me see, he's your..." I did a little mental climb up the family tree, "Yep, first cousin. Right." "I was eight at the time, in the party of my Aunt, who was here on a diplomatic mission on behalf of grandfather." Hadrian says. "I remember the heat. And the views. Luke probably doesn't remember me..." The booted footsteps didn't sound too promising--guards perhaps? I wouldn't be surprised if there was some sort of Trump ADT equivalent here--and no telling if Luke was even home. I wasn't sure I even really wanted to see him. But hey. Best defense, right? I stride to the door and open it with some degree of force. Outside are a trio of guards in polished, light uniforms in green and gold, and, yes, heavy boots. They start to rush forward and then stop as Dagny speaks. With all the authority in the world, I say, "What is your problem? Are you TRYING to stomp your way through the floor? Jeez, have some respect for other people's things." Then I shut the door with an annoyed slam, and turn to Hadrian with a smile. "Well, this ought to be interesting." There is murmuring outside but nothing loud and racous like their march to the door. "I do not think they will take this well." Hadrian says. "Although we may have bought ourselves a few moments." It is at this point that Dagny is getting a trump contact. How I wish there could be caller ID on these things. "Trump contact," I say to Hadrian, quickly. "I'm going to take it. In case this whole thing goes south, can you get us out of here fast?" "Go south. Who is going south?" Hadrian says and then shakes his head. "Now I get it. You will have to explain to me later why going South on Earth means going into danger." He pulls out a card and runs a finger along the edge. Dora cranes her head, watching Dagny. The trump call, when Dagny takes it, turns out to be Luke. He has a bemused look on his face, sitting in a chair in a room. A guard is just within view, behind him and to his left. "While I admire your ingenuity, Dagny" Luke says. "Using the front entrance might have been less alarming to the guards and wards." he says. "Especially since I didn't know you were learning the art of Trump." Ahh, so there is a Trump Early Warning System. Interesting. "It's Luke," I say to the others. I return my attention to my father, speaking aloud for Hadrian and Dora's benefit. "I guess I'm full of surprises. I think it's nice we have that in common, don't you?" Volley aaaaaand....serve. "Like Father, Like Daughter." Luke replies. He stops a moment, looking through the trump. "Ah, and I do not miss my guess, it seems you brought your trump tutor along. Had you draw a place trump as an exercise, I bet." "And why *did* you pick a room in Kashfa, Dagny?" Luke says. "I figured I had a good year, maybe three, before you'd show up here again." "You also can tell him to put the card away. I'm not going to put the two of you and his familiar in a dungeon. I'd have to use a more impregnable cell after this display of your ability, anyway. I'd much rather offer you some Meze and talk like civilized folk." "Unless you were seeing if you were going to be able to trump out." he adds with a grin. "He says to put the card away, because he's inviting us to stay for a bit," I say to Hadrian and Dora. "He also says he won't throw us in the dungeon for trespassing. I can formally introduce you, and if nothing else I'm sure you can talk shop. What do you think?" In a smooth motion, Hadrian puts the card back in his deck. "It's that or sit around that castle in Baylesport. We think this would be far more interesting, don't we, Dora?" "Yesss" Dora adds. "Okay, we will. Thanks." I'll offer one hand to Hadrian and the other to Luke. In short order, Dagny manages to pull herself, Hadrian and Dora, through Luke's trump call and into a room relatively similar to the last one. Tapestries hang on the way, the seating except for Luke's chair is reclining couches, and there are several low tables. One of them has a pile of documents on them, with a very modern pen sitting on them, cap off. Luke looks at the guard that Dagny saw through the call. "Kalphas, go and have one of the servants bring food and wine. The usual spread will do." The guard gives a once over of Dagny and Hadrian, and satisfied, walks out of the marble-floored room. "Some days it can be good to be the king." Luke says. "Even if some days, its a bloody pain." He waves a hand at the documents. "You've given up tangling with Omphalos for the moment, have you?" he asks Dagny. "And turned student?" "Not exactly, and yes I guess, in that order. Before we get into details I should probably make introductions here." Praying I got the order right--I knew there were obscure rules to this sort of thing--and subconsciously cursing the formality of having to announce one's lineage just to say a simple hello, I began, "Luke, this is my cousin, Hadrian, son of Gerard, and his companion Dora. Hadrian, Dora, this is my father, King Rinaldo of Kashfa." Hadrian bobs his head. Realizing it probably sounded silly to refer to Luke as Luke and Rinaldo in the same sentence, I pressed on. "Luke, Hadrian was telling me he visited here when he was much younger as part of a diplomatic contingent with his Aunt Helge. He was the one who identified the city outside when we arrived--he'd noticed your Risteronian-style furniture in the sketch so I wasn't entirely sure we were in Kashfa. And as I think you've guessed, he's taken on the unenviable task of trying to teach the least artistic girl in the universe to draw." "You're one of King Henry's grandsons, then?" Luke asks Hadrian. "Yes, sir." Hadrian replies. "Ah, that explains the accent. And the interest in trump. I don't remember you here when the DuMarqueans showed up, not really. But then I was probably staring at your half-cousin Halladora, Helge's daughter." Hadrian clears his throat and looks embarrassed. Dora chuckles sibilantly. At this point, servants come in with food. Food recognizable to Dagny, even. Large black olives, sliced. Hummus with a swirl of something red in it. Pita-like bread. Skewers of meat and vegetables. Something like Tabbouleh. And coffee and tea. I helped myself to a little bit of food, enough to be polite--we still had to have dinner back in Baylesport and I had no desire to go to sleep with an upset stomach. But I never stint on coffee. The coffee is a strong and dark brew and surprisingly sweet for all that. "As I said before. sometimes it is good to be the King." Luke says. "I must admit, Dagny, that I was expecting one or more of the Amberites to try and turn you, use you as a way to look at me. I wasn't expecting you to start to learn Trump. Although you are still a fair conjurer, as I recall?" Why let him rest easy? So I shrugged. "Maybe they did. But I will not be used as a pawn in someone else's game. I think this whole family dynamic is complete...ah...garbage," (expletive deleted just in time) "and I have no desire to participate in it. You're safe from me on that front. Believe me, if I was going to go after you it would be for reasons of my own." I smiled broadly to indicate that I was joking. Which I was, mostly. Luke snorts. "But I haven't, and I'm not planning on doing so. I come in peace, as they say. As as for the conjuring...parlor tricks, really. I wasn't expecting to learn Trump either--among other things, I didn't inherit your artistic skills--but it seemed like a handy thing to know how to do, and Hadrian was willing to teach me. At first I just hoped that Trumps would work when the drawings were stick figures, so you can imagine my surprise when I learned that wasn't quite how it worked. Which leads me to why and how we ended up here, which I'm sure you're wondering about. Hadrian, Dora and I are on assignment for the Crown, and we had some time to kill before we had to sit through a formal dinner. So I took the opportunity of drawing a sketch of here, figuring we'd be able to pop in and back and still make it to dinner on time. I wasn't even sure you'd be here and I didn't know you'd be able to tell that we'd arrived, so it wasn't my intention to disturb you." "And here" he gestures at the lack of food on Dagny and Hadrian's plates "I thought you still thought I was trying something fishy. Formal dinner,. assignment for the Crown. Unicorn and Serpent, they didn't turn you two into diplomats, did they?" I nearly choked on my coffee. "Diplomat? No. Do I :look: like a diplomat?" "Random has been known to use strange people in unexpected roles. Then again, so did old Oberon." Luke adds. "Err." Hadrian says. "How did you know we came, as Dagny asked?" he says. Luke sobers his jovialty. "A little trick I know your grandfather and great-aunt learned, Dagny." Luke says, addressing Dagny instead of Hadrian. "Being aware of trumping in and out is a good thing when assassins are dropped into your royal palace that way." "Huh. Never thought about it that way," I said thoughtfully. "You'll have to show me that trick sometime. Not that I'm expecting an assassination attempt, mind. But in all seriousness, you should probably know what's been going on. I'm not going to go into detail because we don't have time, but ships of refugees have arrived in Amber seeking sanctuary after their home Shadow was destroyed by the Omphalos. We went to investigate and it looks like the Omphalos were able to manipulate magic in some way to make the local volcano explode and decimate everything. We're about to attempt negotiations for land for them to live on." "Distant relatives, too." Hadrian says. "The head of them is a descendant of Prince Osric." "Osric." Luke says. He makes an encouraging sound for Dagny to continue. "The Omphalos seem to be drawn to places with broken Patterns in them, which this was. I don't know if you're at risk of attack here, but either way if you have any insight as to how the Omphalos did this, or what can be done to detect or stop another attack...it would really help a lot of people and prevent more bloodshed. At least, it would restrict the bloodshed to just the Omphalos, which I don't think will bother anybody but the Omphalos themselves." "The Omphalos, fortunately." Luke says. "have not deigned to bother with Kashfa, so my knowledge of them is somewhat thin. However." Luke says. "I do know that my ex and her daughter in Begma have at least one there to deal with. It helps to have spies in Begma." he grins. "Why they want Begma, which has no broken Pattern, is not clear, but you might find a chat with Coral and Electra useful." "As far as why they want broken Patterns, its the same reason why they want Amber's Pattern." Luke scoops up some hummus onto some flatbread. "Power. Now, I understand they want to drain and destroy the Pattern, which seems a waste to me, but there is no accounting for taste." "Someone should think about doing unto them what they want to do to us." Luke adds. "Speaking of which, did you get any interesting letters from Uncle Benedict?" I frowned. "Letters? No. I heard secondhand from Random that I was conscripted by Benedict to fight the Omphalos. And actually," I rifled through my memory and started mentally counting down days, "I'm supposed to bring an army to meet him very soon, but I ended up getting sidetracked by the arrival of the refugees." I looked over at Hadrian. "I guess when we're done in Baylesport we'll have to part company for awhile so I can muster troops. I have no idea how to move large numbers through Shadow, so it ought to be interesting." "You were not invited?" Luke asks Hadrian. Hadrian shakes his head in response. "That is sloppy of Benedict, and he is not sloppy." Luke says. "Therefore, something else is afoot instead." He looks at Dagny. "As it so happens, Benedict sent me one of these letters, too. I'm as surprised as you are. I don't have any good choices for Regent that my mother, bless her black little heart, wouldn't have filleted by sundown. I was going to send you as a surrogate." he says. Rather presumptuous of him, but I wasn't about to get into it in mixed company. Instead, I kept my expression and voice carefully neutral and avoided looking at him. "Oh, were you." "As far as moving troops in Shadow, I could put you in contact with my old buddy Dalt for advice, but he hasn't been answering my calls lately. Just like my brother isn't. Frankly, I'm worried a bit about that." He waves his hand. "But that's my problem." "Sounds like you need to attach yourself to one of your cousins for help in moving this force Benedict wants" Luke says. "Someone older and experienced in such things." "I need to get the army together first, then worry about moving them," I answered. "I have a feeling that once I've got the cannon fodder assembled and the supply train organized the logistics will work themselves out. Since I have no idea if gunpowder or energy weapons will work where we're going, I'll probably stick to simple things like bows and arrows and swords. Unless you have any suggestions?" "Plenty of advice on that front" Luke says, taking a piece of the crumbly cheese and popping it in his mouth. \ "Decide what your force's role is going to be. Everything is bringing forces, so you can specialize if you like and probably should. Are you bringing GI, Engineers, Dragoons, special forces, Marines, Horse archers, or whatever. That will tell you what equipment they need. Stick to weapons that work in as large a range of environments as possible and the best quality weapons appropriate to the forces. So, yes, avoid gunpowder weapons, unless they use them as sidearms or one-shots. That way, they have other skills, too." "Oh and don't make the mistake of a million man army. Think Logistics, Dagny" Luke adds. "Who said anything about men?" I said, craftily. "But your point of specialization is noted." I looked over at Hadrian. "Hadrian, you're more familiar with the vagaries of Time and Shadow, as it were, so what is the time differential between Baylesport and here?" "The vagaries of Time and Shadow" Hadrian repeats, furrowing his eyebrows and then grinning. "Good phrase. Ought to put it in a book" Luke comments "It should," I agreed. 'I heard it somewhere and think it's an excellent turn of phrase." "Right" Hadrian says. "Much of the Golden Circle is pretty close to Amber time, because of proximity issues. Just enough of a difference to notice.They can be off-kilter in terms of the relative time of day, as a result." "It's slightly slower here" Luke says. "Sixty five minutes here are sixty four in Begma, and sixty in Amber." "So we have a little time," I said, nodding. "Last thing I would want is to have time here run so fast that we miss our appointment tomorrow. Or even dinner this evening, I wouldn't want to be rude to the Lord Mayor without due cause." I sipped my coffee, considering. "You mentioned Coral and Electra. Who are they exactly? "I've never heard of Electra" Hadrian puts in. "I'd have been surprised if either of you had heard of Electra, but I am disappointed no one has told you of Coral" Luke replies. "Allow me to fill in that gap in your education thus far. Coral is, by all accounts, the youngest daughter of the late King Oberon. Oberon apparently became extremely friendly with Prime Minister Orkuz's wife when they visited Amber a couple of decades ago, before the War." "Fast forward to about 8 years ago. Coral and her sister Nayda come to visit Amber as part of a diplomatic delegation from Begma. Coral, who has heard the rumors, talks my buddy Merlin into being shown the Pattern. To his surprise, she jumped on the Pattern. To his greater surprise,she survived the walk. Ipso Facto, really one of the Amber Royal Family." "Electra is Coral's daughter." Luke says. "If she's mine, Coral won't tell me." Luke says, frowning. I raised an eyebrow at this for what turned out to be several reasons, but initially involved an oh I thought you said I was your only kid and then devolved into a full-on ewwwwwwww when I realized the implications. "Dude, that's your aunt," I said, disgusted. "What is with this family? Seriously, there's a whole universe of people to pick from. Why in the name of all that is holy do you all insist on making our gene pool shallower than it already is? God, if you wanted to pick Real people you could at least try the Courts of Chaos before going all country song nightmare on us." I shook my head like a wet dog, and chuckled humorlessly. "Maybe I'm just some naive, provincial lass, but quite frankly I don't get it. You weren't related to my mother too, were you?" Hadrian blinks in surprise and swallows audibly. "Unicorn no!" Luke says, his face coloring. "I will tell you, something, Dagny." His eyes flash. "I was betrothed to Coral when we were both kids, all right? Long before there was any idea in her head that she was Oberon's get, and it was an attempt to keep Kashfa and Begma from tearing each other's throats out, as we are wont to do. *And*" he holds up a finger "there are plenty of rumors and lies about Oberon being a randy old goat, and until Coral walked the Pattern, there was no solid evidence." "Finally" he spits "Why do you think" Luke adds. "Coral and I *divorced*?" I felt my anger rising to match his, but for Hadrian's sake reigned it in as best I could. The world around me became unnaturally sharp-edged, clear and bright before suddenly returning to a normal luminosity, which made me think that this control was won at the expense of my eyes --I'd experimented before with cat-slit eyes while fighting for the obvious advantage they gave. I could only hope it wasn't terribly noticeable to the others. "You brought it up, not me," I said, grimly, taking a deep breath. "I didn't know you had divorced Coral, why you'd divorced her, or even that you'd married her to begin with. There's an awful lot I don't know about you, and maybe you should stop and think about why that is before biting my head off. And seriously, we didn't have it back on Earth, but there are plenty of other Shadows with genetic testing--considering how much Oberon seems to have gotten around over the centuries, I'm thinking that just ought to be standard procedure before hooking up around here. Of course, I've met some family members who didn't seem to care. Sorry, I just think it's icky. Maybe I just haven't dealt with it enough to see it as normal behavior, as others have." I clenched and unclenched my fists and was pleased to see that the world was getting a little fuzzier around the edges. "For that matter, why risk death on the Pattern if you're not sure, when spitting in a vial could give you the answer? And if you're not sure if Electra's your daughter, that's an easy way to find out. Incidentally, when you told me 'I don't have any other children' you neglected to add 'that I'm sure about.' Got any other 'maybes' that I should know about? If for no other reason, to make sure I don't accidentally sleep with them." I was purposely being snarky there, and gave a wicked smile to show it. "You are assuming genetic tests from deep shadow will work on Amberites." Luke replies. "You will find that such tests of paternity do not work well at all. That includes our relationship, Dagny. Or the Prince from DuMarque here, whose long standing quest to prove his paternity known to all and sundry. This world and its inhabitants, including you, work by different rules." Hadrian swallows thicky, but Luke doesn't stop talking. "You are entitled to your mores and values." Luke says. "And entitled to stick by them." Luke replies."And no, I do not know of any other siblings or half siblings you might have." "Also, Dagny" Luke turns his mood to amused. "You might want to watch that involuntary shapeshifting you just did. Speaking of mores and what people think is 'icky', shapeshifters have a bad reputation in many parts of the Golden Circle, for a variety of reasons." Pooh. "Did I shapeshift?" I asked innocently. "I'll have to have that looked at." Luke points at his eyes and then at Dagny's. "Doesn't seem fair, somehow," I continued, "for shapeshifters to be so reviled just for who they are. It's not like they have a choice. To paraphrase, baby, they were born that way. On that note...Hadrian, I think we ought to be getting back. I just realized I have to come up with something to wear to dinner, and I don't want to be late." "No" Hadrian says. "We should not be late for dinner. I thank you, lord King, for your hospitality." "You mean in not arresting you for trespass?" Luke grins. "Don't mention it. Keep an eye on Dagny, all right?" "Y...yes, sir." Hadrian says. He rises and pulls out a trump sketch. Luke clucks his tongue. "Next time, Dagny, do call ahead first. Or use the front door. But you are welcome to do either, daughter." Lord king. Pffft. "Don't worry. I won't drop by unannounced again. Thanks for the food." Whatever. I was mildly irritated at him again. "Hadrian, do you want to do the honors or shall I?" Whoever it is that opens the sketch, I'll step on through and back to Baylesport. "I'll do it." Hadrian says, pulling out a trump sketch, and in short order, uses it in returning them to their quarters in the Castle in Baylesport. Hadrian brushes his clothes. "That was somewhat educational, although I don't know who got the better of the exchange. What,Dagny, did you think of..." At this moment, there is a knocking at the door, with the distinct sound of irritation, as if the knocker has tried several times without success already. Hadrian walks over to the door, and opens it to reveal a servant. "The Duke has asked me to escort you to dinner." the servant says. The servant looks at Hadrian, then at Dagny. "I apologize if I was, ah, disturbing you." Hadrian goes slightly red. "You were," I said to the servant briskly, "but you wouldn't have known it, so it's okay. Please wait outside, we'll be a minute." After he leaves, turn to Hadrian and say as kindly as I can, "Hadrian, I just want you to think about something. Whatever or whoever you were in DuMarque, you are a prince here. You should remember that." Dora mouths (as far as Dagny can read her draconic mouth) a "Thank you" I give Dora a smile in return. "You are right." Hadrian says. "I *was* a lowly member of my Grandfather's House. I'm not, now. I forget that." "Now," I changed my tone and tack, "here I am with nothing proper to wear to dinner. You look fine, but I should at least brush my hair or something. Do you want to go down without me and send the servant back up? That'll give me a few extra minutes without putting the Lord Mayor out too badly, or annoying the cook too much." "I can do that" Hadrian says. "I can cover for the additional time you need to prepare." He looks down at his own clothes, a not-quite uniform, and nibbles his lip thoughtfully for a moment. "I will see you there, Dagny" Hadrian says. Exit Hadrian. See, this is why I wanted to get back here early, so that I would have enough time to change into something dressier before dinner. Damn you, Luke. I concentrated a moment and conjured up a hairbrush and dashed into the adjacent washroom (surely there is one?) to give my hair a once-over. No hairspray, but fortunately it seemed that my earlier dip in Rebma's waters had texturized my hair nicely. Conscious of the time, I did my best to quickly conjure a nice knee-length, a-line midnight blue print-on-white skirt. The midnight blue top and tan platform sandals would have to do. Women here didn't seem to wear makeup, so I just took a moment to splash some water on my face to freshen up. I'd have to come up with a toothbrush and paste before I turned in for the night. I hadn't been expecting to stay until the morning, or I would have packed a bag. Ugh. So I might have a sister. Well, half-sister. Maybe. I wondered if I should try to track her down, then realized I'd have to shelve that until the hundred other things on my to-do list were resolved. Would I be able to get to it all? I didn't know. Seemed like every time I turned around there was another mystery to solve. If I have time I'll conjure up a silver and blue topaz necklace while I wait for the servant to escort me down. I do love jewelry. A short time later, Dagny has managed the change and cleanup with not much trouble at all. As she looks in the mirror in the washroom (not ornate, by Amber Castle standards, and Dagny has seen better in a Motel 6), and works on her last conjuration, she starts to hear the knocking of the servant. It's only a few moments more to create the necklace but Dagny is able to get it done and fastened before the servant knocks again. "I am here to take you to dinner." the servant says, once Dagny opens the door. He bobs his head. "His Grace awaits your pleasure, Princess." The servant remains quiet, but gives sidelong glances now and again at Dagny walking through the Castle. Not exactly staring, but more of an unbridled curiosity. I stop walking and look him dead on. "What? What is it you want to ask me? Get it out already." He stops in place. "My apologies, Princess." he says. "We do not often get visitors from the Royal Court here, and, ah, few of them dress in Out-Shadow fashion. I was, uh, curious where your clothes and jewelry came from." "Oh is that all?" I started walking again as a signal for him to do the same. The servant starts waking again as Dagny speaks. "No need to apologize for that. I made them, actually. This is one of the ways people dress where I come from. I'm not familiar enough with fashion here to feel comfortable making local garments, and I didn't have enough time before dinner to buy and have something sent here. I wasn't expecting to spend the night, and what I was wearing wasn't appropriate for a formal meal." I looked down at my outfit. "I figured, as long as I look neat and everything is covered, surely the people of Baylesport will indulge me my eccentricities." "You are a Princess of Amber." The servant replies as if that explained everything. "But where are you from, that such unusual clothes are the fashion?" I sighed. "A long way from here. But consider this--if you think my clothes, which I consider normal, are odd, what do you think :I: think of the normal dress here? It goes both ways." I smiled. The dining room is relatively small, a long and narrow room with three major tables in an "N" shape making it one continuous circuit. About a dozen people are sitting here, in addition to the Lord Mayor, and Hadrian, who is sitting at his left. A place, empty, is quite visibly empty on his right. "His Grace would prefer the two of you to dine at his table." the servant says quietly. Hadrian gives a smile once he looks up from masticating a chicken thigh and sees Dagny arrive. "Thank you," I say to the servant, and grin at the sight of Hadrian eating yet again. I look over the other dinner attendees as I slide into my seat. Anybody interesting? "Lord Mayor, thank you for your indulgence. You have been most kind. Hadrian, Dora." I greet the others. Unfortunately for the future prospects of conversation for dinner, the set of lesser nobles and possibly wealthy petty bourgeosie look like they are out of central casting from early Renaissance Europe. Everyone, as Dagny approaches, looks at Dagny in the same manner as the servant did, with varying degrees of frankness. Well, the servant explained that, so I had no need to feel insulted, aside from the uncomfortable feeling of being on display for people to gawk at. No matter. Princesses set fashions. "It is uncommon for members of the Royal Family to come personally to Baylesport, save for getting some of the local vintage." the Mayor says. "We are honored to have two scions of two different lines in Amber here, even if you are proceeding onward tomorrow." I murmured something gracious and let him continue. "The Prince has been telling me about your service under Admiral Prince Gerard." Silas says. "Might you tell me more about this official business? Your counterpart." he nods to Hadrian. "gave the impression that, despite this commission being from his father, you are the senior member of the expedition?" I smiled. "My counterpart flatters me." I wasn't going to get into disturbing topics over dinner, so I simply said, "My cousin and I are here to conduct real estate negotiations on behalf of the Crown with one of the local lords." I sipped from the goblet set at my place. "Delicious." It was. Bean-dip time. "Quite honestly, I haven't been in Amber long enough to know much about this area. I'm sure it has a fascinating history, and it can only help to know more. What can you tell me about Baylesport?" The Mayor shakes his head ruefully "Alas, Princess, I don't have the court's poet here to recite you some of the lines of Vineiad, the epic poem that tells the story of our city. It would take some nights for you to hear it all in any event. Any child in the province can recite some of it." He clears his throat, and the rest of the room goes silent and everyone is looking at the Mayor, Dagny and Hadrian. "After Kolvir's wooden castle was raised." "Eldest Prince Osric rode here with many men" "Built city of wood and stone walls spans tall" "Baylesport, for his squire, was it so named." He clears his throat and continues. "In the days of the two now lost Princes." "The fruit known as grapes brought from the shadows From the grapes came juice, and then soon became wine It was then that fortune began to shine." "How many stanzas are there in total?" Hadrian asks. "Approximately 3000." The Mayor replies. Osric again. Poetic justice indeed, that his descendant would be given sanctuary on the very lands he himself first tamed. the "Beautifully recited," I nodded to the Lord Mayor. "I look forward to someday having the opportunity to hearing it all. So I take it that this place was one of the first tamed after the founding of Amber. Who was this squire, that Osric named it after him? Although I admit, 'Osricport' doesn't quite have the same ring to it." I smiled and sipped my wine again. A member of my family honoring somebody that way, even one who saved his life? Astonishing. What kind of person was Osric really like? "Indeed," I said, agreeing with my cousin. "Sounds like Lord Bayle deserved that honor, and more, for his sacrifice. Did he have family to carry on his name and title?" "Aye" The Mayor nods. "The Bayles, while they do not rule Baylesport and do not wish to, are the primary vinters of the area. Lord Bayle's infant son, and dowager Countess, took the title, and built their reputation on the grapevines that grow here. It is their product that we owe our fortune." He stands and raises a glass, which quiets the room of all other conversation. "To Lord Bayle, for which we would not be here,and would not drink this fine wine." He takes a sip, as does everyone else, before sitting down again. "I had not expected such freighted matters to be discussed when I offered you this invitation." The Mayor says to Dagny. I drank the toast with the others. "I didn't realize your history was so fraught with tragedy, or I would not have asked," I answered when he sat back down. "I was just trying to learn more about this place. I love history, and I find that people will speak of their homeland in ways that rival the best of poets." I smiled. "But perhaps these are too weighty matters for dinner. Let me ask--what do the people of Baylesport do for leisure? Are you known for your music, or dance, art, or perhaps sports?" "We do much as the rest of the kingdom does, I suppose." the Mayor says. "We are not known much for our art. Perhaps our poetry is what we are best known for, as you have already heard." The Mayor gives a grin. "We do not have the advantage of the large city of Amber for a major theater company, but there are some traveling players who make Baylesport their home, and travel to the villages, hamlets, and towns beyond. Our harbor is relatively calm, which might be." he looks at Hadrian "too dull for a son of the Prince Gerard's tastes." "I am not that much of a mariner." Hadrian says apologetically. "Ah, I see." The Mayor replies. The dinner continues in this way, with the Mayor gently asking Dagny about herself, and her place in the family, as well as Hadrian's. The end of the meal is punctuated with more wine, and something that, to Dagny, resembles an enormous twinkie, which is sliced and served. "Once again." The Mayor says. "I want to thank the both of you for gracing our table. If there is anything you need, name it. We are happy to serve the family of Amber." "You're very generous, and I thank you," I nodded. "If we need help, we will come to you." I wondered if I was getting the cue right, that the meal was over and we were all to depart, or if this was one of those situations where the women leave the table and the men sit around and discuss things over brandy and cigars, Downton-style. I look around. Are other people getting up and leaving? If so, I will make my excuses and head upstairs to my chamber. Some of the people at the lower table are leaving the hall, others, closer-clustered to the Mayor, are lingering as if there is something that comes after. "My apologies, milord Mayor" Hadrian clears his throat, after a look to Dagny. "We are uncertain as to the protocols and customs of your, ah, court." "Not to worry." The Mayor says. "A few of the richer burghers and nobles often discuss matters after a dinner such as this. Nothing that would be of interest to the either of you. You are welcome to attend, if you like, but I fear you both would find it awfully boring." Dagny does note that this 'group' is mostly men, but there is one matronly woman amongst then, the grey haired Lady Picardy, who apparently is the baroness of a small estate just to the east. "Hmmm" Hadrian says, and glances at Dagny. I looked back at Hadrian and nodded. "Lord Mayor, would you do us the honor of introducing us to Lady Picardy? She looks very much like somebody I'd like to meet." "Very well" The Mayor raises his voice. "Lady Picardy." he clears his throat. "The Prince and Princess would like to meet you." "Certainly" She breaks away from a conversation with one of the merchants. She squints as she takes the measure of both Dagny and Hadrian. "Lady Picardy, this is the Princess Dagny and Prince Hadrian of Amber. Princess, Prince, this is Lady Picardy Baroness of Kylesford, on the post road east of here. She studies Dagny and Hadrian, focusing on Dagny. "Its so unusual to see one of your grandfather's descendants take an interest in anything mundane. It's a pleasure to meet you, dear." The Mayor sidles away. My grandfather's descendents...? I raise my eyebrows at that. Going there already, are we? "Indeed? My grandfather was a carpenter, and always took pride in what others might consider mundane. Oh," I chuckled, "you mean the other one. I take it you knew him, then, my lady?" "Yes. Some of these fools, for reasons I do not understand, do not speak the name Brand, but I do so." Lady Picardy says. "When you are eighty seven years old." (and she looks, to Dagny, to be no more than her mid 50's) "you learn not to pay attention to such things." "I knew Brand, and I've met his two children, and the one that pretends he is not." Lady Picardy was. She looks at Hadrian. "You're harder to place. I'd say Gerard, but you don't smell salty enough." Hadrian chuckles uneasily. "I hadn't realized my father had other siblings," I said mildly. "He never mentioned them. I suppose I'll have to ask him about them sometime." "I am surprised you had not already met Prince Kyle." Lady Picardy says. She looks at Hadrian, too. "Briefly" Hadrian says. "Very briefly." "Thus" Lady Picardy says. "So if you will indulge me, Dagny Thorsonne, granddaughter of Brand, why are you and Hadrian really here?" Lady Picardy says, finding a chair and sitting down. Dagny also notes that at some point, Dora has gone into sword form again. I sit down as well, not directly across from Lady Picardy, but at more of an angle so as to not be antagonistic. I look over at Hadrian to gauge his reaction, then turn on Third Ear to see what I can pick up from this formidable woman. But first, keep her talking. "Lady Picardy," I begin, "What would lead you to think our presence here is in regards to anything more than what we said?" Hadrian seems to be doing what Dagny is doing, listening, watching, taking mental notes. If he is a mental magician like Dagny, there is no sign, but he is clearly playing the role of a polite courtier here. "Oh that's simple, girl." Lady Picardy says. "The Kingdom of Amber, as mighty as it is, only cares for Baylesport because of one thing and one thing only--the wine. If there was no wine, we'd get even less attention than we do. With the wine, we get the occasional Prince or Princess to come to see the vineyards, talk shop, move on. But no one visits a vineyard in *March*." she says. "Therefore, you have an additional agenda. Either your own, or the Boy King's. This one." she doesn't quite point at Hadrian. "is quiet and silent like his father. More like Castor than Pollux. Therefore, you're the brains here." Hadrian coughs in surprise. "Not terribly bright. But Loyal, no doubt" Lady Picardy says, looking at Dagny. "Now, he will either bluster, or politely withdraw in embarrassment." "Neither, ma'am." Hadrian says. Dagny sees his eyes have changed color to a different shade of blue. And the room is now colder, enough to raise goosebumps. "Just so" Lady Picardy says. She turns to Dagny. "Am I wrong in my suppositions?" I was irritated that my Third Ear didn't seem to be working, but that irritation was soon overtaken by another, more forceful, emotion. I felt my eyes flash in sympathy with my cousin's, and I stood, with an imperious look and an icy tone, and channeled my inner Elizabeth Bennet. "I had thought we could work together, Lady Picardy. But you have insulted us both by every possible method. You must excuse us now." I started towards the door, then stopped near one of the tables and turned around. "Incidentally, you had it backwards. He's the brains." I nodded at Hadrian. "I'm the brawn." Lady Picardy gives a most unladylike snort. Taking a moment to harden the skin on my hand and make a quick calculation, I brought my fist down on one of the oaken tables with force enough to cleave it in twain. Indeed, the table splits most satisfactorily. Lady Picardy looks startled. Hadrian looks pleased. "Think about the implications of that for a moment, Lady Picardy," I said, as I turned to leave. Hadrian follows, and closes the door in a sigh of relief. "Thank you" he says. "I was getting tired of her trying to manipulate my mind. Was she doing that to you, too?" he asks Dagny. "I'm afraid I would have plunged the room into an Ice Age had she persisted in her efforts." "What? No!" I answered, shocked. "I had no idea she was doing that! Why, that nasty old bat ... I should have broken more than the table. I wonder if the Mayor knows she does that sort of thing. If he doesn't, he should be warned. If he does, well, we might have to clean house here before we leave. Where did he get off to?" Hadrian holds up a hand. "Peace, cousin" he says in a low voice. "Has it occurred to you." he says quietly. "that she might well being doing it on the Lord Mayor's behalf. And by revealing that we know this to him, cause unintended consequences? It might be more to our advantage to play up our ignorance. You will note she focused on *me*" Hadrian says. "You are Brand's granddaughter, they consider you too dangerous. They think *I* am no threat." "Lady Picardy may be working to her own agenda, or another's, but we cannot discount the possibility we are being spied on by our otherwise pleasant Lord Mayor." "Of course it occurred to me," I explained more patiently than I felt. "That's what I meant by 'cleaning house'. If the Mayor knows about this, or is the driving force behind it, we couldn't let it stand-- he would have allowed members of the royal family to be attacked in his residence. If he doesn't, who knows how Lady Picardy is influencing people and decisions made in Baylesport? "But you were the one who was attacked, not me, plus you're the brains of the operation, like I said." Hadrian raises a slightly skeptical eyebrows. "If you don't want to confront him, I will defer to your judgement." I paused for a moment. "Also, her concentrating on you may have had more to do with her perceiving you as the 'strong, silent type' with weak mental and arcane defenses, rather than me being Brand's dangerous granddaughter. More fool her, I say. Incidentally, are you comfortable spending the night here? It's entirely possible someone may try to kill us in our sleep." "Kill us?" Hadrian shakes his head. "That would be a bridge too far unless they were thinking treasonous thoughts. Espionage and spying are far more in bounds. Not legal, of course, but not unexpected." "No" Hadrian says. "I suggest we say nothing, we are mindful, and in the morning before we leave, we can drop a hint that we know. We should also be wary of whatever horses they give us. But a dramatic confrontation with them here and now?" He shakes his head thoroughly. "Dramatic, and exciting, but ultimately counterproductive. Random, or Father, or Uncle Bleys can make the spying on us far more painful in the long run than we could with a throwdown." "All right then," I agreed. "In that case, I have no reason to mill around plotting revenge when I could be getting some rest. I'm heading up." Hadrian nods and pats his sword. "Dora has properties to help shield my mind in this form. I should have explained that sooner, it was a subtle clue on my part." He swallows. "And I underestimate your ability at Neuromancy. Good night." "Good night," I answered, and headed upstairs. As Hadrian confidently predicted, no one tries to murder Dagny or Hadrian during the night. Her mental defenses do not even so much as twinge, and taking rest over dreamwalking the night passes without incident. Hadrian lets Dagny wash up first. Even when he returns, Dora is still firmly in sword form. Hadrian's fingers occasionally stroke the hilt, as if he were petting her. It is after they have cleaned themselves up that a messenger knocks on the door. "The lord conveys his disappointment that he does not have time for breakfast with his esteemed guests." the messenger says. "He wishes you to know that his hospitality extends to breakfast, that can be brought here if you wish. Mounts, as you had requested, are awaiting you in the stables." "Is there a return message?" he asks, in that tone of voice that suggests there will be none. I look at Hadrian and smile. "I don't have to ask if you'd like to have breakfast. Please bring us something to eat," I say to the messenger, "and pass our gracious thanks onto the Lord Mayor." "Yes, Princess." the messenger says. Twenty minutes later, hot bread with butter, jam, something that looks like nutella, and coffee arrive. "I suppose" Hadrian says between bites "I am much like my father this way. Never avoid the chance to take a meal. I also wonder." he tears another piece of bread. "if the Pattern doesn't have something to do with it, or my experience with the Fount. You know, once you walk it, it changes you, makes you more than you are, or the apotheosis of who you are?" "It's true. You don't know when your next chance will be, so take the opportunity when you can. Where I'm from, it's said by soldiers that when you have a break to sleep first, then relieve yourself, then eat. Usually couched more crudely, but you get the idea." I took a bite of food. "I've heard the Fount mentioned before, but I know little else about it. What is it? What was it like?" "The Fount of Power is something below the level of the Pattern in terms of its potency." Hadrian begins, wolfing down bread and speaking between bites. "Four elemental shadows, a quadrifidic system of elementals, you know, air, fire, earth water. They all meet there, artificially jammed together. It's created a node of energy. There's a fortress, the Keep of Four Worlds, there, for the person who has control of it. To get control of it, you have to, ah, take a bath in the energies and survive." "Did Bhangbadea tell you about the fight with Brand there?" Hadrian asks. "Bhangbadea, myself, Jayson, a bunch of other people against him?" "If she mentioned it, I don't remember," I answered. "Please, go on." "In the midst of that conflict" Hadrian continues between bites, I took a tumble into the Fount itself. This is not a safe act, even for a scion of Amber or Chaos. It nearly killed me." Hadrian says. "But it changed me, and, from what I understand, and wish Bhangbadea was around to help, I changed it." "The Fount and its environs changed, afterwards." Hadrian says. "It's now a continental glacier dominated cold wasteland with the Fount and the Keep, now made of unmeltable ice, sitting on an outcrop of rock in the middle of a plain of ice." Hadrian says. "I may have made the Fount somewhat less desirable as a vacation destination." He smiles wryly and takes a bite of bread. "Sounds like you skewed the whole thing to water, sucked up all the fire and without fire the water froze," I said. "Jeez, how did you manage that?" I smiled in such a way as to convey humor. Hadrian shakes his head. "I wish I knew. One of the less altruistic reasons I'd like your help to get Bhangbadea out of Corwin's realm is that if anyone could help me figure it out, she could. I mean, Dagny, I don't mind the continental glacier, it will keep tourism down." he grins. "And technically, and I think by de jure, the Fount is now mine. But I suspect I'm locking away a lot of its potential that way. And it would be nice to know if I can change it, if needed. It's affected me in turn, too." "You've noticed things get colder around me when I get stressed?" Hadrian adds. "I think that's part of all this." "Things get broken around me when I get stressed," I grinned. "We all have our ways of coping." "I don't yet trust a lot of the Family on this." Hadrian adds. "I've learned quickly that the Royal Family has ... factional politics. Don't you agree?" "I do," I nodded, "and I have little patience for it. But let me ask you, why trust me?" I sipped my coffee and studied him. "A number of reasons." Hadrian replies. "Bhangbadea thinks well of you, and I trust her." Hadrian says. "She proved who she was early to me, and anyone she thinks well of is someone to trust." "Second." Hadrian says. "You were there the night we both walked The Pattern in Tir. That was a transformative experience, was it not?" "And, Dora likes you. The times I've not listened to her instincts have been nearly without exception unpleasant experiences." Hadrian finishes. "Well," I said, somewhat taken aback. "Thank you, Dora." I had no idea whether she could hear me when she was like that, but it seemed appropriate. "I'm flattered, Hadrian, and I hope I live up to your expectations." Rather than let things get awkward, I switched gears. "Ready to go?" The mounts that the Lord Mayor has waiting at the stables look fine enough. Hadrian checks them twice before giving Dagny a nod, and getting on the larger, chestnut brown stallion. According to the stablehand, Hadrian's mount is named Horatio, and Dagny's smaller bay is named Kalispell. "Next stop, Umberkeep." Hadrian says. The ride away from the city is relatively pleasant. Storm clouds threaten distantly from the east, and a cold wind comes from the south and east. Dagny can smell the approach of rain on the wind. At about 10 miles away from Baylesport, about a third of the way to Duke Feldane's holding, Hadrian turns Dora back to herself. "I heard every word." Dora says to Dagny. "You are most welcome." I smiled at her. "Welcome back. If you don't mind me asking, what's it like being a sword?" "I'm more connected to Hadrian as an artifact than as a familiar." Dora explains, drawing out the word as, Hadrian continues forward, at a slow trot. "I can see inside of his mind, or more accurately, share some overlapping mind space. I share his physical perceptions; I maintain my arcane ones." "You have a very potent and noticeable aura, Dagny" Dora says. "I can see the notes of your tutoring from Hadrian in Trump Artistry, as well as your arcane skills as well." "What, this old thing?" I replied loftily, with an exaggerated hair flip. "I just threw this on. But truly, is your ability to see auras a part of your nature, or did you learn how to do it?" "Old?" Dora responds. "I see a quite young note of power and ability in your aura, and not your recent studiess of Trump Artistry." Dora responds. "I was being facetious," I murmured. "But to answer your question." she continues. "Draco Wivernis Sapiens is by its nature a magical species. We are an offshoot of a similar species in a distant shadow. In that shadow, instead of straight magical ability, they act as familiars for witches, and have an exceptionally poisonous bite. My species, though, has a far less dangerous bite, and a wider range of magical talents than our cousins. Aura recognition is common, as is shapeshifting. Some of us." She unfurls her wings proudly in a display of species pride "are even able to become full fledged sorcerers." "It's traditional" Hadrian butts in "for members of the Royal Family to be given a Wyvernet egg when young, to allow it to hatch and bond with them, socially as well as the mystical bond we share. That's enhanced a bit by my studies of trump artistry, too." "Sounds like a beneficial partnership," I said. "We don't have anything like that where I'm from, except maybe with our cats, but they are reluctant to share their mystical abilities." I looked ahead along the trail. "How far to our destination, anyway?" "About twenty miles to Umberkeep." Hadrian replies. He points up the road. "Three hours at a trot, which these horses should be bred to manage without difficulty. Longer if we stick to this walking pace." "Well, I say we kick things up a notch." I nudged my horse into a trot. Three hours later, as Hadrian predicted, the horses, climb a rise and are faced with the fortress of Umberkeep. Rolling hills and valleys give way to a long, narrow valley. Dagny and Hadrian appear to be on a ridge at the mouth of the valley. "Terminal moraine, I think" Hadrian says casually. I was surprised. "You had glaciers here? Weird. I somehow thought that Amber was just this sort of flat sheet of reality--an island in the middle of nothingness-- and to get anywhere else you had to Shadowshift. I didn't realize it was a whole world, with poles and a climate history and everything." "Well, not quite that." Hadrian says. "Amber is only several millenia old, and it certainly did not go through an ice age. There are features on this island in the middle of nothingness--I like that phrase, Dagny, that look like they are hundreds, thousands of years old. Like this formerly glaciated valley. No glacier was here, but it looks like there was one. This moraine, that valley, the drumlin that the Castle over there sits on." "Just like there are shadows, like the ones you and I come from, which, from an outside point of view, are much younger than the inhabitants think they are." "But time is relative." Dora counters. "So it's all a muddle anywayss." So by that logic, the Bible-thumpers are right and the Earth is only 6,000 years old, but not for the reasons they think. That made my head hurt, so I didn't say anything. From this vantage point, Dagny can see that its a square shaped curtain wall surrounding a relatively squat keep on a hill further up the valley. One large, square tower in the middle of the Keep, though, stands several stories above the keep and curtain wall, with two flags, one with the unicorn of the Kingdom of Amber, and, below it, one with a fleur de lis, black, on a crimson field. Below the Castle, in the valley is a relatively small town, something above a village but nothing anywhere near as large as Baylesport. "Our destination." Hadrian says. "At least there IS a town here. That will help with the refugees in terms of basic necessities, don't you think?" "Assuming they have money, yes," I agreed. "Unless the merchants allow a labor barter system or something. I'd hate to think the Crown would end up subsidizing too much of this--that might flood the local economy and cause inflation, which doesn't help anyone. Anyway, let's head to the keep. I do hope there isn't a princess in that tower that needs rescuing, though." I nudged my horse to move a little faster. "Unlikely" Hadrian says., returning to the trot pace "Although do remember my father warned us they might wave members of the Noble family under our nose." "Your nose, not mine," I reminded him. "You're the eligible bachelor here. Nobody's interested in marrying me off." I grinned. "They might seek to marry you" Hadrian responds. "You're a Princess of the Realm, after all." Dagny and Hadrian get down into the valley, and follow a small river up toward the waiting Castle. With the open country, both of them can see patrol of horsemen coming toward them, one of them with the black and red banner on the castle. "The Duke's men." Hadrian comments. "Odd they would come to greet two ordinary travelers." "Not if the Lord Mayor took the incentive to send messengers to warn the Duke last night," I replied. "And if so, Lord knows what he told him. I may have to go back and kill that guy," I added thoughtfully. "I hope that is an Earth metaphor." Hadrian says thoughtfully. "And I think you are right, the Duke is up to his neck in plotting." "No, it isn't," I said cheerfully. "I really mean it." Hadrian raises his eyebrows but says nothing more on the subject. "Your business in Duke Feldane's lands?" the lead of the quintet of horsemen (all men) challenges as they get within shouting range. "Wouldn't be here if we didn't," I called back, and moved in closer so we didn't have to shout. "Gentlemen, you have the honor of addressing Prince Hadrian of Amber and his companion Dora, and I am Princess Dagny, also of Amber. We have urgent business with the Duke on behalf of the Crown. Please escort us to him immediately." There is a look of skepticism on the leader's face. Before he can speak, Hadrian reveals Gerard's ring in his palm. He cranes his head to stare at it. Four of the five horsemen look at each other, uncertainly. The leader gives Dagny (and Hadrian) a hard stare. "Urgent business, of course. Please follow me." The horsemen aside from the leader bracket Dagny and Hadrian for the ride to the keep. They keep testing the speed of Dagny and Hadrian's horses, seeing how fast they are willing to go or be pushed. This does have the salutary effect of having them reach the courtyard of the Keep in relatively short order, even as the horses are relieved that the race is over. As they dismount, Hadrian speaks quietly. "Definitely something is up here." Hadrian says quietly. Dora flutters her wings in quiet agreement. "Are you certain you wish to see the Duke with the dust of the road on you?" the lead horseman asks. "I would think that a Prince and Princess of Amber might be more concerned with manners and not wish to tread horse dung into his hall." "I think you have no idea what a Prince or Princess of Amber may wish," I say pleasantly, with a smile that does not touch my eyes. "I would not presume if I were you." I took a moment and turned on Third Ear. Anything from this guy? What about the others? While I wait for my reading to come through, I turn to my companion. "Cousin Hadrian," I say in such a way to show that this was purely for the benefit of our audience, "I had not heard the Duke had such delicate sensibilities, had you? Rather the opposite, actually. Do you think," I continued, "that the Duke should be kept waiting because his guards believe they know his business better than he does, or do you think he deserves to know why the King sent us? Because I don't know about you, but where I come from they teach us to not step in horse dung. So if anything smells like shit here, it sure isn't us." I grin broadly at Hadrian and Dora, deliberately ignoring the guards. Hadrian laughs outwardly, in not quite a miniature version of his father, but close enough. "'Tis True. One might suggest that neither of us had ever been on a horse, which is plainly not true. And something of a slight to suggest." he regards the men. "otherwise. Our business, as given to us by my father Royal Prince Gerard" and he stresses that Royal for all its worth "is to see the Duke as soon as possible. Asking us to force the issue would of course, have repercussions." Dagny does notice, for one thing, that Hadrian, in his enthusiasm and stress, has slipped into something like a Norwegian accent. As far as her Third Ear use, by the time that Hadrian finishes his words, Dagny has it clearly. Captain Marchion, the leader who has not named himself but getting his name was the easy first step, desperately wants to keep Dagny and Hadrian closed up so *things can be cleaned up. That's what the Duke orders.* "With all due respect, Princess and Prince, this IS foolish. I will take you to the Duke if you wish, but counsel against this course of action. If you would follow me? Herbert, ride ahead to tell the Chatelaine about our guests. And the Duke, too, of course. And the Black as well." At this last, the horseman nods gravely, turns, and heads at a full gallop. Dagny's Third Ear, still up, lets his new plan unspool. He intends to take as slow a ride back as possible and play for time in that way. "Captain Marchion, you are really becoming very tiresome," I said flatly, projecting a royalty-type level of annoyance. I hoped he noticed I was using his name. I was also keeping the Third Ear up. "When one is trying desperately to play for time, calling the objects of your deception 'foolish' will rarely help your cause, especially if they are royalty and are used to being treated a certain way. Ever hear the phrase, 'you catch more flies with honey than vinegar'? You could have greeted us pleasantly, perhaps offered refreshment or some other distraction, or even offered to bring the Duke here and then taken your time 'finding' him. Instead you accused us of poor hygiene and worse manners. Either you are new at this, or this is a rough court indeed. I suggest you alter your approach next time. Now. Let's go." I spoke in such a way as to let the Captain know I was brooking no argument and was not going to tolerate any more nonsense. The Captain looks shocked, dismayed and then finally offended by Dagny's words. "As you wish, Princess." his use of the latter term doesn't quite cross into insolence, but it certainly can see it from where his use of the word stands. He turns to ride toward the Castle, signaling the other riders to follow behind Dagny and Hadrian. "Now" Hadrian says quietly to Dagny "we might be dealing with some real treason here, as opposed to the Mayor" The ride toward the Keep is relatively uneventful. The Captain seems to be schooling his thoughts, not warding or blocking Dagny, but he seems to have guessed she can read his mind, and is instead thinking about inane subjects. River eel pie. The color of his wife's hair (brownish red). Even sums in his head. The pace of his horse is a trot, nothing that Dagny can really fault him for setting, especially for horses that have already trotted for hours. As the Castle is approached, Dagny can see a flurry of motion. As the picture resolves, it comes clear to her--an army sits encamped not far away from the Keep, in the black and red of the duke. "Oh, Greffet." Hadrian says. Dora fluffs her wings in agreement. "Dagny, that's not the size of force you muster to roust bandits." "Hadrian...I think your dad needs to see this. Now. Can you get him on a Trump, and quickly?" "Stopping and pulling out a card is too obvious." Hadrian says. "A more oblique approach is needed." Hadrian lets go of the reins of the horse, letting it follow Dagny's, limply continuing. The guards don't seem to recognize what is happening, but Dagny sees him get a faraway look in his eyes. A few moments later, a bit groping, he reaches his hand for Dagny's. Once the connection is made, Dagny realizes that Hadrian has opened up the call without a card, to Gerard. "It would appear that the Duke has been assembling forces covertly." Gerard says, clearly a conversation already in progress. He frowns unhappily and splits his attention toward Dagny and Hadrian both. "We need to know more. We need to know why and what his goals are, and covertly." "Can I count on you?" "As far as counting on us goes, sure, Uncle, of course," I agreed. "Covertly, though? Can't promise that, I kind of had to bully our way here so we could see this beautiful mess to begin with. But let me see what I can do." "Indeed" Gerard says. "Now is the time for some finer diplomacy, if you can manage it. It is a pity I didn't have Pollux train you, but who expected such efforts to be needed in Amber?" Worry creases his eyebrow. "Just don't break things ... permanently. All right? And by the Unicorn, keep in contact, and be prepared to leave if necessary." "Yes, Father" Hadrian says. "Of course, Uncle. Wish us luck." With that I dropped out of the contact. What's going on ahead of us? Not long in the outside world outside the conversation has passed, although Hadrian remains, Dagny notices, in the contact with his father. At least both he, and Dora have that slightly distracted and far away look of still being in the card-less trump call. The army is not in motion, however, they appear to be going through the usual exercises and drills Dagny has seen in her sojourn through shadow. Their escorts, Dagny notices, continue to lead them toward the keep, either oblivious or deliberately not paying attention to the fact that there are a couple of thousand men under arms. Some of the pickets of the force, however, look hard at Dagny and Hadrian. Captain Marchion seems content to lead Dagny and Hadrian right toward the Keep without any further preamble. I smile back and nod at the grumpy lookie-loos. Am I able to pick up any stray thoughts from them? The thoughts are what Dagny would expect--"Who are they? What are they doing here? Does the Duke know? Is Jeannie making stew for dinner again?" Well, at least whatever vitriol was here wasn't directed as us in particular. I had half a mind to ask to inspect the troops, but we had pressed our suit based on urgency, so waiting was probably wise. This really made me wonder what in the holy hell the Lord Mayor told the Duke we were doing here. Did the Duke believe that we were coming to lay claim to the land without compensation in a royal eminent domain demand, and preparing for war? The gifts I bore for the Duke and Dutchess--the Sherlock Holmes book and the elaborately carved, tastefully bejeweled decorative bone hair comb (I'd finally thought of something for her the day before, and called it up before retiring) were packed carefully away in my saddlebags. They would still be presented, and decorum would be observed, no matter how rude this Duke turned out to be. Hadrian should perhaps give the Dutchess her gift, assuming she is in residence at the Keep. "Hadrian," I say in a low voice, "one of these days you are going to have to explain to me how you made that call without a card. And you say you aren't the brains of the operation. Pfft." "Talent doesn't mean brains." Hadrian responds quietly. "Its not that easy to make mental trumps. We'll cover that in a very advanced lesson. Although the lack of drawing might be an advantage, given your self professed lack of drawing skills." He seems bemused. The Duke, and the Duchess are, in fact, waiting at the entrance to Umberkeep by the time Dagny, Hadrian and their escorts meet it. Its clearly a hasty arrival. The Duchess (a pretty blonde) has hair that is not quite perfectly coiffed, and the Duke's cloak is a little tangled around the collar. A herald calls out with a possibly magically amplified voice, or a really good set of lungs. "The Duke and Duchess of Feldane welcome the royal representatives from his majesty Random , King of Amber." The crowd, the soldiers out in the field and Dagny's escorts go quiet. The latter part away, leaving an unobstructed view of the Duke and Duchess. "The King honors us with the unexpected visit of two of the members of the Royal Family." The Duke says, giving a smile to Dagny somewhere above that of a used car salesman. He tightly is clasping his wife's hand with his left hand, and raising his right hand high, as she raises her own free hand. "We welcome you to the Duchy." "We are honored to be here," I began, nodding acknowledgement. "Thank you for receiving us on such short notice. Before anything else, please allow us to present you both with tokens of gratitude and friendship." I presented the book. "Duke Feldane, this is a collection of very famous mystery stories from my own home Shadow, translated into Thari. Aside from the adventurous tales told, these stories detail one of the most famous partnerships in all of our fiction." The Duke takes the book with a slightly uncertain look that fades away to a more placid smile. "Thank you, Princess Dagny." I looked at Hadrian to indicate that I was done and he could proceed with his presentation. Now I was wondering if I should have conjured up an Emily Dickinson poetry anthology or a Jane Austen novel for the Dutchess. Would a hair bauble be seen as too shallow? Was I being unknowingly sexist? Jeez. Hadrian pulls out of somewhere (and possibly something like a larger than natural pocket) a framed and matted sketch. Dagny recognizes the subject as Castle Amber, as seen from a tall building in the City. The foreground is Amber City itself, and behind it, the mountain looming up to where the Castle stands tall and proud. "A piece of art by my own hand, your graces." Hadrian says. "I see that." The Duke says. "Thank you. Once Hadrian is finished, and assuming we are not called to do anything else, I will continue: "Your Graces, the matters we have to discuss with you are both urgent and of the utmost importance. Is there somewhere the four of us can go that is more conducive to serious conversation?" In other words, let's lose the audience and get down to business. "Serious conversation?" The Duchess says uncertainly. "Do not worry, dear, I suppose that is the way of the Royal Family to frame things thusly." The Duke says. "If you wish a more private talk, certainly. Please follow us." In ten minutes, Dagny, Hadrian, the Duke and Duchess are ensconced in a receiving/sitting room of some sort. Its a slightly more rustic affair than the ones Dagny has seen in Castle Amber. The tapestry is not quite the high quality she'd expect, the rug on the stone floor looks a little worn or threadbare. The furniture is serviceable. The Duke and Duchess take chairs at one side of a round table. "Refreshments should be here with all due dispatch." the Duke says. "Apologies, we were unaware that a visit from the Royal Family was in order. There is no one in the room with Dagny, Hadrian and the Duke and Duchess...or there is, if you count someone concealed in a passage or other room connected to this one, behind a tapestry of a rampant unicorn, white on green, the symbol of Amber itself. She's picking up absolutely nothing from the Duke and Duchess. No, that's not quite right. She's picking up *nothing*, as if their minds were cloaked, hidden, disguised. "Ah, you saw our military exercises." The Duke blurts out. "Local trouble? Well..." He pauses, uncertainly. Hadrian raises an eyebrow. Before he can speak, though, the Duke's wife picks up the conversational thread. "What my husband means, of course, is that we've heard stories of all sorts of disturbances. Rumors of fires and invaders in Arden, strange fleets in the waters of the seas south of Baylesport. I thought it prudent, and convinced my husband, that mobilizing forces and making sure our forces are ready in case of true need, would be a good thing." Her spine stiffens. "My father was a general under Prince Benedict in the War, and I learned at his knee." "Surely, Princess and Prince, you cannot fault us for taking such precautions." the Duke says, finding his words again. I nodded gravely. "Under the circumstances, I would have done the same. Your Grace," I said, addressing the Duchess, "It sounds as if you could not have had a better teacher. I envy you your training." I had no way to tell if Hadrian or Dora also sensed the presence of that person behind the tapestry, so I opted for the direct approach. "Hadrian, could I borrow a scrap of paper and a pencil? Thank you." Hadrian pulls out his sketchpad and pencil, and with a furrowed brow, tears off a page and offers it and the pencil to Dagny. I start writing as I am talking, making sure that Hadrian could see what I was doing. "As I had mentioned earlier, Your Graces, we have matters of the utmost importance to discuss with you. But before we begin..." I slide the note across to the Duke and Duchess. It reads, THERE IS A PERSON HIDING BEHIND THE UNICORN TAPESTRY IN THIS ROOM. IF THEY ARE YOURS, PLEASE INVITE THEM TO JOIN US. WE HAVE NOTHING TO HIDE. IF THEY ARE NOT YOURS, PLEASE ALLOW ME TO BRING THEM BEFORE YOU. I keep talking for the benefit of our spy. "I must compliment you on your kindness and hospitality." "You are most unlike your cousins, aunts and uncles, Princess Dagny." The Duke says, after contemplating the note for a long moment. He looks to Dagny's companion "I had heard that you are the son of the Prince Gerard." he says to Hadrian. "I had no idea that you had, in spirit, a sister rather than a cousin here." "Of course we have someone watching the room." The Duke says. "Most who come to visit, who are inclined to take note of such things usually have the subtlety not to mention it." "Why are you, we, being watched at all?" Hadrian says. "What need is there of this?" "Ah" the Duchess clucks her tongue. "I might have expected the Princess not to understand, but I would have thought a Prince of DuMarque would know better." Hadrian clenches a fist. I give Hadrian a sideways glance that says "it's okay," in the hopes of calming him down. He does, after a moment. Dagny does not imagine the drop in temperature in the room, though. "What my wife means." the Duke Feldane says, looking at Dagny. "is that our observer is here for our safety. Rather pointless, that you know that she's there and have called her out. Shall we continue our conversation, regardless?" "Your Graces," I began, with a mystified look on my face, "We would have had no way of knowing whether the spy was yours or not. You just finished explaining how you are so concerned about your security here you have amassed a small army. For all we knew, this person was sent to secretly watch you and your household, eavesdrop on your doings, and report any security breaches. My informing you of the person hiding just outside this room," I continued, hardening my expression, "was purely for your own safety. If it had not had been, I would have said something aloud to embarrass you, rather than passing you a note that could not be overheard by an eavesdropper. Now as for continuing this discussion," I looked at Hadrian for confirmation, "were this meeting with regard to almost any other subject we might consider it. Under the circumstances, I believe we must ask that you bring your...security person into the room with us. For that matter, bring a dozen if it makes you feel more comfortable, as long as you don't mind them overhearing this meeting and I can make a note of their names." I leaned in to the Duke and Duchess. "Some of the rumors you have been hearing are true. The very safety and security of Amber and its environs, including Baylesport, hangs in the balance right now. You have the ability to help the Crown in a very unique way, which could also be quite profitable for you and your Dukedom. So please," I leaned back in my chair, "bring your compatriot forward, and let us begin the discussion." "We prefer our intelligencers not to be known." The Duke says. "The presence of one clearly discomforts you, and so the intelligencer will be withdrawn." He shares a look with his wife, and the Duchess rises and walks over to the painting. Dagny notices that Hadrian is studying her, carefully. "Broken Unicorn Horn." she says. "Return to your normal duties." she says. A check with the Third Ear suggests that the hidden person who was behind the painting, the one with the cloaked and disguised mind, moves away. The null space moves further and further away. After a few moments, the Duchess returns to the table. "Now" The Duke says. "You were saying, Princess?" Aside from wondering what the "Broken Unicorn Horn's" normal duties entailed, I supposed this was the best I could hope for. I drew a breath and looked at Hadrian and Dora, encouraging them to jump in as they saw fit. "Your Graces, you may be aware that there is a race called the Omphalos which have been traveling through the universe and destroying entire Shadows as it suits them. Rebma itself was recently attacked--I was there and assisted in its defense. "Currently in Amber some refugees from a distant Shadow have straggled in, carrying little more than the clothes on their backs. Hadrian and I investigated and learned that the Omphalos used powerful, arcane magic to cause their mountain to explode and destroy nearly their entire city. Their leader, Aldris, claims kinship with the Royal Family, but that is still being investigated." "How does he claim kinship?" the Duke asks. "Through Osric." Hadrian replies. "This is an old colony." "The upshot is, Hadrian and I are here to ask if you will negotiate for use of your land by the refugees. They are shipwrights by trade, and would do much to enhance your economy, if given a chance." I leaned back and waited for the onslaught of questions. "The King wants us to settle refugees from a shadow colony of lost Prince Osric in our lands?" The Duke finally asks, after a series of questions on their numbers, their location, and other details. Between Dagny and Hadrian, there is fusillade of questions answered from the Duke and Duchess, asking general details, but finally ending with that one. "Aside from the area around Baylesport, we do not have much coastline." "The North Coast, dear." the Duchess says. "Yes, well, there is no infrastructure, no settlements except for a few poor fishermen up there. Does the Crown intend to give us the funds, the materials, the man power." The Duke says. "Unicorn, the road from here over the Hills to here would need upgrading. Where do we find the manpower to..." Hadrian coughs discreetly. "In order to make this all happen?" the Duke says, ignoring Hadrian's interruption. "They probably would not have anything like our own culture, either." He softens and looks at Dagny. "Is this a royal command? Or is this your idea, Prince and Princess?" he says, looking carefully at Dagny and Hadrian. "This was," I paused, as if searching for words. "A proposal. The Leanan coast was suggested because of its size and quality of land, and presumably for its proximity to the sea. However, Amber is a big place, the surrounding Shadows even more so." The Duke gives a nod. The Duchess follows with a smaller one. "Before we can negotiate the economics of the situation, we have to know whether this is something you would even consider. Especially with the threat of enemy action, I think it is important that we all work together for the betterment of our land. What say you?" "The main problem is the lack of development of that land." The Duke says. "It's very well to say yes, Princess, and say that verily, the refugees can be settled there. Shipwrights, you said, although there isn't much forest up that way. Its much more coastal heath than anything." He scratches his chin and gives a look to his wife. "All right. Supposing for the good of Amber that the duchy takes on this additional population. Feldane would want a break on royal taxes for three years, and aid in building the infrastructure needed to help with the population. I will not have the good people of our land put out of our homes to house a bedraggled set of refugees." "If it turns out that Aldris is of the line of Osric." Hadrian interrupts. "It would be an act of generosity that a descendant of the Royal Family would not soon forget." "Be that as it may." The Duchess speaks up and looks at Dagny. "Are you prepared and empowered to negotiate on his Majesty's behalf?" I look over at Hadrian and let him answer the question. "Yes" Hadrian says, clearing his throat. "As the duly designated representatives of his Majesty Random, King of Amber, we would negotiate the settlement of the refugees on you, his vassal's land. We have the authiority to do that." "Very well." the Duke says. Dagny can feel the surprise in his mind at Hadrian's answer. "Give us a day, and we will come back with a counter proposal and we can begin negotiations in earnest. This is rather unexpected and sudden and i would not want to be accused of negotiating in bad faith." "No, we wouldn't" The Duchess agrees. "Might we have someone show you to suitable quarters until, say, tomorrow morning?" "No, that won't be necessary, thank you." I stood to go. "We will return in the morning. But on our way out ... I would love the chance to observe your troops, especially considering the superb training that they must have received." "Return in the morning?" the Duke says, furrowing his eyebrows. "Where do you intend to stay? Surely it is not befitting a Prince and Princess of the Realm to stay at anything less than the finest accommodations." "Nonsense" Hadrian raises his voice. "I've traveled shadow and stayed in all sorts of accommodations. Dagny, too. An inn or roadhouse in the town will be more than we need, really. We would like to see these troops of yours drill, though." Hadrian said. "Is it that you truly wish both such things?" the Duke asks Dagny. "To stay outside the Castle ... and see the troops." He seems slightly alarmed by both prospects. I sighed inwardly. Surely these people must understand the concept of Trump, and that it would be easy for us to travel to and from this exact spot with a minimum of fuss. What with everything else going on I had little desire to waste another night away when I could be getting other things done. But no matter. I sat back down. "It was not meant as an insult, rather that we wouldn't want to trouble you by staying when we weren't expected. Hadrian is very right that both of us are used to all sorts of conditions, including sleeping rough. I had planned that we would return to Castle Amber this evening. But of course we would be very pleased to stay here under your gracious hospitality, so thank you. And yes, we would very much like to see your troops in training. The King has instructed us to raise an army to fight the Omphalos," something else I needed to get on right away, "and I would appreciate anything I could learn from watching how your men and women drill. I have worked with smaller groups of fighters, but nothing on a scale like this, and I imagine the logistics are both different and more complicated." "Very well" The Duke and Duchess stand together. "We'll send an armsman to escort the two of you to the practice field immediately. I think you will find it dull, but one does not outshout a tide." he says with a thin smile. The Duke walks to the door and opens it. "Summon Captain Wolter. He is to escort our Royal Guests to review our forces." He gives a nod, the Duchess gives a curtsey, and both head out. "We've about a minute or two before the dog and pony show continues." Hadrian says dryly to Dagny. "Perhaps less." he adds as a tall man knocks at the door, enters, and bows. "Princess. Prince. I am Wolter, Captain of Arms for the troops. I understand you wished to review the Duke's levy?" I briefly wondered why we were being asked to look over a body of water and/or taxes, then figured there was probably another meaning I should look up later. "Hello, Wolter. Yes, we would very much like to observe the training regimen for your troops." "Very well." he says. "Follow me please." He starts leading Dagny and Hadrian not to the front entrance, but evidently to a side entrance or sally port. Hadrian dawdles in his pacing. Dagny can see him studying the layout of corridors, rooms, the tapestries on the wall. As we make our way to the training ground, I ask, "How long have you been drilling? And are these all local volunteers?" "The Duke's orders are relatively new, Highness." the Captain puts in after a moment's thought. "We have had forces called up before, for Patternfall, for example." he says. "Surely you've heard of the heroism of the Duke's forces in the Army during the Battle at Garnath, at the Castle, and the long march to Chaos." I hadn't. "Of course I have. His bravery was the stuff of legend." "Indeed: The Captain says. "As far as being volunteers, I am not sure I understand." he says, frowning. "It's the Duke's right and duty to request able bodied men and women to military service or training at time of need. Surely this is the same in Amber itself?" "The Princess has been studying, ah, alternative methods of constructing armed forces." Hadrian puts in. "I see" Captain Wolter says. "But here we are." The sally port of the Castle leads out to a training ground where those troops that Dagny and Hadrian had spotted are engaging in unit drills, moving, fighting and maneuvering as a single entity. The troops are divided into blocks of a hundred, and these, based on the formations, into ten groups of ten men each. "Tell me about the types of enemies you are training them to fight," I said. "Are they being trained to battle creatures larger than they, smaller, mounted or on foot, enemies with magic?" "Captain Marchion said you were clever and observant." Wolter says. "The Duke's levy is mainly designed for operations against fellow humans." he says. Indeed? Very interesting. "As far as the enemies with magic...we do not have a strong mage corps. As you know, there isn't a school of battle magic in Amber; any such training is done by one of the Princes or Princesses outside of Amber. As the duchy does not get many visitors from the Royal Family, we do not often have candidates so trained." "Why" he asks. "Are you trained in battle magic, Princess? Prince?" Hadrian shakes his head. "Not in any useful manner." he responds. "Dagny?" Hadrian turns to Dagny. "Do you not think that perhaps sparring with some of the men might not be excellent exercise. And would give us an idea as to their capability?" "I don't think that's necessary." Wolter says, shaking his head. "It would be a horrible thing if we injured a member of the Royal Blood by accident." "But it wouldn't be by accident. It would be because they have been well-trained," I replied with a smile. "Think of how it will raise morale if one of your champions is able to best us in a fight. And if not, well, no harm done, and we can give you feedback on their weaknesses. I'm willing to take the risk. Gather up some wooden practice swords, and ask your best soldiers if they would care to spar. If they don't wish to, move down the list till you find somebody willing. I won't fight anybody who doesn't have their heart in it. But I do hope you find somebody to take us on. We'll stay here and watch the drills until you return." He hems and haws and finally accedes. "Very well. I will find some wasters and some willing volunteers." As the Captain walks off I use his absence as an opportunity to conjure up small prizes for my opponents--gold brooches with intricate designs. "What do you think of this, Hadrian?" I ask in a low voice, without changing my expression or turning my head, so I would appear to onlookers to be commenting on the action. "Something isn't right." Hadrian takes up the deception, watching the individuals and squads practice. "Very odd." Hadrian says. "We knew that going in but now to see it, and to have them so reluctant to engage us." He points at a couple of individuals sparring. "If they aren't training for threats outside the Kingdom. And you noticed that Captain Marchion talked to him already" Hadrian says. "No, I have a working theory as to what really is going on." Hadrian keeps his voice low. "I understand that Random doesn't get the respect of a monarch that his father did. Or Eric for that matter. What if the good Duke decided to take advantage of that to expand his feudal holdings at the expense of his fellow Dukes and Barons? Our presence here, suddenly, is spooking all that." "Your theory is less sinister than mine," I said quietly, nodding and pointing at one group of soldiers. "I was thinking more along the lines of a rebellion against the Crown itself." I pretended to demonstrate a sword grip. "It is very telling that they are training to fight other humans. If the Duke and Duchess were truly training them to fight invaders to Amber it would be different. Incidentally, there is somebody here versed in the arcane arts--probably that Broken Unicorn Horn person--who at a minimum is skilled in cloaking minds. I wasn't able to get a reading off either the Duke or Duchess. Do you think they are really willing to negotiate, or this is a play for time? Do you truly think it is safe to stay here tonight?" "It's most certainly a play for time." Hadrian says. "Delay, delay, delay and hope to come up with a solution. Or employ one. You mentioned." He swings a hand experimentally. "there is a sorcerer or sorceress here, or they have access to magical equipment." "We can stay anywhere, of course." he continues. "Its more dangerous, I think, to stay here and see if they do try to do something to us. Force their hand, as it were. "Speaking of hands, I think we're about to get our match." Captain Wolter is heading back toward them, with two likely looking soldiers in tow. "We can always retire to our rooms here, Trump out then Trump back at dawn," I replied. "Let's figure it out later." "They will be watched of course." Hadrian says. "Even if they were being above board, the incident with the Duke and Duchess prove that." Hadrian says. Both the soldiers are average (5'9" or so) height, male, olive skinned, dressed in leather jerkins, wearing pot-helmets and carrying wooden wasters. The right one is tense, holding it stiffly, while the left one swings it as one might swing a baseball bat. "Which one do you prefer?" Hadrian says. "The left clearly is the more relaxed if not enthusiastic. The right one much less so." Dagny will note that Captain Wolter is carrying an additional pair of wasters himself. "I'll take the grumpy one," I replied. "If he's disgruntled, maybe I can get something out of him. Gentlemen!" I call out, approaching with a smile. "This is Prince Hadrian, and I am Princess Dagny." Placing an honorific in front of my name still gave me the willies. "Thank you for taking the time out to spar with us. Your names are...?" Both men glance at Captain Wolter. He gives a bare nod in response. The left, non grumpy one speaks first. "My name is Stilicho" he says. "My name is Felix" the grumpy one says a few moments later. "Pleased to meet you both." Hadrian says pleasantly. The Captain steps forward and offers the wooden practice swords. Hadrian picks the slightly longer of the two, swinging it experimentally. "Its not going to be as finely balanced as a sword of course." Wolter says, offering the other wooden staff-like weapon to Dagny. "I choose you, Stilicho." Hadrian says. "By your leave, of course, Dagny." he says gallantly. I had to banish the brief mental image of Hadrian throwing down a Pokéball and Stilicho popping out of it. "Of course, Cousin," I agreed, taking the sword from the Captain and testing its heft and balance. I waited for the fun to begin. "Thank you." Hadrian grins. He unbuckles the sword that is Dora transformed. "Take care of her." he says to Dagny. "Of course," I murmured, as I cradled Dora-as-sword in my arms. He and the soldier then move a dozen paces away and face each other. Stilicho salutes, which Hadrian returns. Stilicho then goes on the aggressive immediately, and hard, driving at Hadrian with his wooden stave with an uncompromising and vicious attack. Hadrian is taken aback by the aggression, and gives up ground to the soldier. The soldier's skill is certainly higher than an average grunt, and he is wielding his weapon in stances that Dagny has NOT seen in her time in the Castle and its grounds. Hadrian fights defensively, continuing to give up ground. He gets some shots in, but it is Stilicho who appears to be besting him. Hadrian's defenses are worn down and crumble. He hits Hadrian again and again, taking about 3 shots to every 6 or seven he lays on Hadrian. Hadrian holds up for long minutes under this onslaught, fighting as long as he can. Finally, though, with Stilicho starting to slow his attacks visibly, Hadrian sinks to a knee and holds up a hand. The fight is done. Hadrian shakes his head and walks back to Dagny and Wolter. Stilicho looks tired, but definitely smug. "My men are well trained milord." Wolter says. "They are." Hadrian says. He turns toward Dagny and winks slightly as he asks for his sword back. Dagny can feel the chill of his ability manifested around him like a cloak. Once he does, he steps to the side. "My turn." Felix says to Dagny. "is it not?" He still looks grumpy. He walks to the appointed spot and waits for Dagny to signal to be ready to begin. Unlike his compatriot, he is far less eager and aggressive, testing out Dagny's patience with a reactive approach to start the combat. Very well. If Hadrian can throw a match, I certainly can. I did plan to draw it out a little more however. I hardened my skin to protect against lucky hits and, since Felix did not seem to be forthcoming, began by a few close feints to draw him out. I turned on Third Ear to see if I could pick anything up from my grumpy opponent. "You don't look happy to be here, Felix," I said, conversationally. "I did ask your Captain to choose only those who were willing to participate. Do you dislike us that much? Or is it fighting against a girl that upsets you? Chivalry may dictate such." Felix's reluctance slowly warms as the match progresses. The feints do the trick to get him to actually trying to score hits on Dagny. He's not good enough that he would beats Dagny unless, like Hadrian, she throws the match. Even the nick of her clothing, bouncing off of her hardened skin, is more luck than anything. "I don't like to talk as I spar." he says grimly, trying to get more hits. Unlike the Duke and Duchess, Felix is *easy* to read. It takes some concentration to do this in the middle of a sparring match (which leads to that nick at one point). But Dagny can do it. She gets a sheaf of thoughts. Resentment at having to spar with Dagny, both in terms of the time taken out of his day and the fact that she IS a woman. There is also a very strong anti-royalist sentiment in him. He doesn't like the Royal Family of Amber at all, and Stilicho's 'defeat' of Hadrian has swollen him with the pride that he can beat Dagny. Ohhhhh Goooddddddd. Letting him win was really going to hurt now. I shut off Third Ear so I could concentrate better on the match. "Oh, but I do," I said with a smile in reply to his last statement, as I parried, swung, and deliberately missed. I decided for the moment to fight him to a draw. As for pulling information out of this unhappy fellow, I opted to start with flattery and innocuous subjects. "You really are very good. Do you have a hand in training the other soldiers? If not, you should, don't you agree? Or perhaps you haven't been with the army long enough, and don't have the seniority," I mused, as if to myself. "I've spent three winters here at Umberkeep" Felix speaks, and immediately seems to regret it, grimacing as he misses a chance to hit Dagny again. "Greffet, I told you that I don't like to talk as I spar." The next minute is quiet maneuvering, Dagny's desire for a draw dominating the flow of the match. "I lead a squad of men. That makes me a sergeant." he says in a tone as if trying to explain to a child. "A sergeant?" I said as if impressed. (I wasn't.) "After only three years? Well, it seems as if the Captain truly did pick the best for this match." Barf. His impatience in his fighting style is obvious, and its making him a bit sloppy at this point. Another nick of her clothing encourages him, though, and he presses an attack. He has been holding back, Dagny, realizes, and she discovers something else. She's seen some of the soldiers, marines and rangers of Amber by this point--and Felix's fighting style is not quite the same. Neither was Stilicho's, but its much more noticeable that Dagny is fighting it. It's not *superior*, just a different school of sword training. Also, Dagny is now starting to get a rather insistent trump call. Crap. We really need caller ID on these things. I increased my speed for a few beats (you know, to satisfy his impatience) and gave Felix what for before letting him score an easy touch. I held my hand up and pretended to catch my breath while I took the call. Felix backs up and furrows his brow. Dagny sees him shoot a look at Captain Wolter, and gets enough of a response to step back further, ceding the field. Hi, hello, what is it, it's going to have to be quick. The image that forms is only familiar from trump and other images. Dagny's great-uncle, Bleys. He's standing in an extremely unfamiliar place, judging from the erupting volcano behind him in the background. It looks like some sort of cross between Iceland and the Mojave desert. Hello Dagny, Bleys says, bowing. Forgive me for interrupting your exercise. We've not formally met, but the need for action is great, and so I come to you, cap in hand, as an Uncle seeking a favor, for the good of Amber. Might I continue? he asks, raising an eyebrow and grinning I'm sure my surprise came through, but I clamped down on everything else immediately. I couldn't even try to hold on to the call while congratulating and shaking hands with my opponent, since it would bring Felix in on the party line. Yes, but not now. This is really not a good time. I'm going to have to call you back. Where exactly are you anyway? Time is of the Essence, Uncle Bleys replies. I am in the home shadow of my daughter Helias. I will try a different tack. The call drops. As I made a great show of breathing hard, I briefly looked over at Hadrian, raised my eyebrows and rubbed my forehead, ostensibly to wipe sweat away (am I sweating?) but really to try to communicate to him I was on a call. Judging from the look that Hadrian suddenly gets, it appears that he is now being trumped. The look is brief, and neither the Captain nor the soldiers seem to notice. "Did the bout meet your expectations, Prince Hadrian?" Captain Wolter. "Yes" Hadrian says. "I think it was enriching for all of us. Don't you think so, Dagny?" Hadrian says. He rubs his forehead. "A headache, milord?" Captain Wolter inquires politely. Stilicho does not quite snicker. Felix furrows his eyebrows, though. "A mild one." Hadrian says. "It will pass." "Are you sure? I thought I felt a Bleys-ing heading coming on earlier myself," I replied. Pronounced correctly, the others ought not notice the pun. "Perhaps we are both too unused to outdoor exercise." "Not this sort." Hadrian agrees. "You have the right of it as far as how it feels. The bout, I fear." "Yes, how DID you find the bout?" Wolter turns to look at Dagny. "Educational," I replied. "I see why you chose Felix and Siltcho as your champions. Their fighting style is effective. Were you gentlemen trained here or abroad?" "Both, in a sense." Captain Wolter says. "We imported a Blademaster from Eregnor that was seeking employment with the Lord and Lady. We took advantage of his skills. Before he moved on, he was quite enlightening to our regimen and had immeasurable impact on our combat readiness." "I did not recognize your style, Princess." Felix says. "Where were you trained, if I might ask?" I chuckled. "I'm not surprised. I'm actually flattered. I did not have the advantage of formal, disciplined training. I picked up what I could, from whomever I could, wherever I was in Shadow." Felix gives a cautious nod. Now that I plan on staying here for awhile, I'll have a chance to be trained properly. "Actually," I said thoughtfully, "who was your swordmaster? Perhaps he can fit me into his schedule, or perhaps he can recommend somebody for me." "Well, as I said, he has moved on." Captain Wolter interrupts. "He was an Eregnorian, some useless third son of one of the nobles there. Wasn't going to inherit, so he learned the way of bladed martial arts. I suspect he's returned to his homeland, or else has moved to yet another shadow to teach his skills. The closest thing Lord Feldane has to a Blademaster now is me." "Hmmm." Hadrian says. "A pity he is not around anymore. Like Dagny, I would have liked to have met the man." "Such as it is." the Captain says. "A poor substitute I may be, but I am the best you might get in this line, if you are staying here for some time." "I'm sure you are much better than that, or you would not be Captain," I answered. Clearly this guy was not going to be forthcoming with the name of the blademaster. I wondered why. I decided not to push for the moment. "Unfortunately we will not be here in Baylesport for very long this visit, but I might just take you up on your offer sometime in the near future. Now, I think these two gentlemen are anxious to get back to their regular duties. Felix, Stilcho, thank you for your time. Captain, I'd love to see your armory if you can be spared for a few more minutes." The Captain hesitates as Felix and Stilicho give bows and take their leave, heading toward the practice yards. He studies Hadrian and Dagny for a moment more before shaking his head. "I don't have the authority to show you the armory, I am afraid." he says, after thinking about it for a few seconds longer. "I do apologize, Prince and Princess, for the inconvenience. You did mention that you had headaches in any event, so perhaps I might see you safely to your quarters? We do not have the medicines available to a Prince of Amber, of course, but I suppose a headache powder might be sent around for the both of you?" Doesn't have the authority to show us the armory? I raised my eyebrows at that but didn't object. "Perhaps you're right. If you would be so kind..." Backlinks |
