Time Under Chaos | TimeUnderChaos / Alone Together

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Helena took a few steps forward and then sank down to lay on top of the elaborate rug and stare up at the ceiling, arms akimbo over her head. "We're here," she said wearily.

"Amba, Mother has been hurt. I don't know how badly—no one will tell me!—and Jurt said there would be repercussions between our Houses. Father thought we'd be safer here than in Chaos, but I don't know how Mandor will take this...development. I wanted you to know so you could be on your guard."

Amba sat beside her, digesting what Helena was saying as she looked down at her friend. "Have you tried contacting her directly?"

"Yes. She didn't answer," Helena replied reproachfully. The ceiling was covered with patterns whorled into the plaster by some artisan long ago and she stared at them, mesmerized. "I'm reminded of the Clouded variant, Amba—We cannot see the entire playing field. I try to focus, but there are clouds in my mind."

"'She didn't answer', or there was no answer?" Amba asked.

Helena turned her head to look at Amba as she brought her arms down to rest on her belly. "There was no answer." By the expression on her face, it was apparent Helena understood what Amba was implying. "But she blocks my calls often enough that that's not a definite sign."

"I talked to the Baroness before I left," Amba said, not looking at Helena. "She said that it was soon to become very dangerous in Chaos for anyone with Amberite blood.

"And I don't think that there was any way she could have known about your mother," she added. She propped herself up on her arms as she looked down at the other woman. "What did your father say?"

"He sounded distracted over the trump and he wouldn't give me a visual. He said they were busy, and that they'd be with me as soon as they were able. He definitely used the plural, which I do find comforting." Helena looked up into Amba's eyes. "Did the Baroness say why?"

"No, which was troubling in and of itself." She sighed. "I don't think what happened to your mother was the cause—and for that reason, I don't think it was that serious." She shrugged. "More like an excuse...or the final straw."

She hesitated before saying the last thing she had on her mind, but finally did say, "I'm not even sure that she might not have...provoked it."

"She's certainly capable of being provoking when she wants to be," Helena conceded. She smiled thinly at the joke, more to mask her feelings on the subject than anything else, but Amba knew her well enough to see through the ruse. This situation upset her greatly.

She lowered her voice and continued. "I contacted Despil before trying Mother. He looked like he was in great pain and then something or someone abruptly cut the contact."

"Oh," Amba said. Then after a second, said cautiously, "Do you remember what Lord Suhuy said about Lord Despil? In the cathedral?"

Helena thought for a brief moment. "Something about Despil taking a graphic message back to Mother. Suhuy doesn't appear to be involved at all though, from what I saw. In fact, Father somehow inveigled him to see me safely off to Amber and he wasn't alarmed at all about the fracas, only perturbed—at Mother, for making him miss his breakfast. Those two really just do not get along.

"Are you thinking Mother did something to Despil—whether intentionally or by accident—and Lord Sawall took offense?"

"No, I think you're looking at this from the wrong angle." She sat up, turning to face Helena as she crossed her legs. "First—a 'graphic' message. A person taking a 'graphic' message usually isn't a good thing in my experience," she said, a moue of distaste on her face.

"Agreed." Helena turned over on her side so she was facing Amba and rested her head against her propped up fist.

"Despil is Jurt's brother," she continued, "so if he were in any way hurt, which your conversation with him might imply, then Jurt would have taken Despil back to his Ways, or at least somewhere hospitable to the Sawall name."

"Now, if someone saw what Lord Suhuy did, would they ask if your mother was responsible before taking offense? And would you really think that Lord Suhuy would respond to any news of something happening to your mother with anything other than bland acceptance?" She quickly continued, "Now if she were dead, then I would expect Lord Suhuy to dance and caper—but an injury would be merely a footnote..."

"I agree with you that Suhuy wouldn't be concerned whether Mother was injured or not, but I was questioning whether he was the one responsible for Despil's condition because he didn't seem agitated at the news that Sawall was angry and that there was something to possibly be traced back to him."

Helena idly ran her free hand through the soft, deep pile of the rug as she spoke.

"I concede that he's self-centered and self-assured enough to just not care, but I'd think there'd be some reaction to the impending repercussions from such an important House Lord. And...Father put me in his charge because he was concerned for my safety—at least that's what Suhuy told me—and I don't think Father would do that if he knew Suhuy was the real target of Sawall's displeasure."

Her eyes flicked back to Amba. "What are your thoughts?"

"That Lord Suhuy's ways are unfathomable even to Lord Suhuy," Amba responded seriously. "He plays on a higher field than most can even recognize, and to ascribe any logical pattern to his actions is folly.

"I think that with the other distractions, perhaps Lord Torren hasn't had proper time to see past the immediate injury of your mother—and that may be part of the reason she was chosen as the lynchpin."

She shrugged. "I don't know really. Maybe I'm wrong. But I don't see your mother doing anything to get herself physically hurt. Don't get me wrong—she's a strong woman, but I don't think she does physical discomfort.

"At least not without a really good reason."

Helena exhaled and rolled back onto her back to gaze once again at the ceiling. "Jurt seemed pretty sure that more blood would be spilled over this incident." She paused and a strange expression crossed her face.

"You know, Amba, I really believe that Torren loves Fiona," she said softly, tentatively, "but...but to risk his House against Sawall over an Amberite, with all that label implies? I would do it—she's my mother, and we have blood ties—but Torren? What does he get out of it? Wouldn't it be easier to settle the affair without blood spilled? Take Sawall to court or arrange for arbitration?"

Amba smiled. "You really don't get it, do you?"

She ran the back of her hand lightly down Helena's cheek. "It's you he loves, silly."

Helena looked back at Amba, bemused.

"Yes, I think you're right that he does love Fiona. But you're his daughter. And with the depths of what he feels for you, blood doesn't matter. You're his daughter, and anything that hurt Fiona would hurt you more.

"And he'd challenge all of the houses of Chaos before he let that happen."

She took Amba's hand in her own, her thumb idly caressing the smooth, soft back of Amba's palm as she thought. "Then why send us to Amber, where Sawall is in control? Perhaps Father believes that Mandor's politics don't match his sire's? Or there are other factions here that will protect us?"

"It's readily obvious that Mandor's politics don't match his father's," she said motioning to the castle around them. "But as to why he sent us here...

"I wasn't trying to listen in on your conversation with your sister, but I did hear you tell her that 'certain agreements no longer apply'," she shrugged.

"I heard a parable in shadow—of a wise king that adjudicated over two women vying for a baby that both said was theirs. The king judged that the only fair way to decide since there was no evidence other than the women's word was to cut the baby in half and give half to each.

"One of the women was prepared to give up her claim so that the child could live. It was to that woman that he gave the child—why? Because she put the child's needs above her own, showing that she loved the child more."

"In the case of you and your sister, the division was cleaner...making the decision easier to defer. But in the end, your parents decided that safe...together...here in Amber, was better than the danger in the Courts, even if they had to let you go.

"A brave decision, for sure. Only time will tell if it was the right one."

A number of emotions passed over Helena's face: pain, defiance, longing...

She brought Amba's hand to her cheek and exhaled, eyes partially closed. "No matter what happens, I'm very glad you're here with me. Together, nothing can stand against us."

Clytemnestra navigated the hallways, a spring in her step, followed by a page groaning under the weight of different clothes and bags. It appeared that Cly had already gotten ready, for she had changed clothes and was freshly made up. She walked even faster as the door came into view.

The door to Amba's room was open, but no one appeared to be inside. The door to Helena's room was closed.

Cly's eyebrows raised a little, but she ignored Amba's room entirely and walked up to Helena's door.

"Lena?" she called after a perfunctory knock. "It's Ness... I've brought all the things..." she said, as if she had carried all the load herself.

(continued in Sister, Sister)

Alone Together - Amba and Helena