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AndTheMouseRoared

Index | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | And the Mouse Roared

In the dark depths of a primal forest of pine and oak, a gothic bathtub would typically appear somewhat out of place. They were not well-suited for an arboreal existence, even when healthy amounts of sunlight and rich soil were in ready supply. They also grossly lacked for mobility, so free-ranging tubs were a rarity, indeed. Venturing outside the bathroom door proved a formidable challenge, let alone the arduous journey through into tangled woodlands.

And yet here, amongst the verdant wonder known as the Forest Arden, one tub proved the exception to the rule. Having escaped the shackles of its porcelain-covered brethren, the bathtub had made its new home in a small clearing of greenery. Its polished surface glittered in the stray shafts of moonlight like the finest alabaster. Anyone seeing it could immediately tell that hygienic finery and grandeur such as this seashell-shaped marvel could only be meant for royalty.

Regrettably, however, the tub now suffered the crude indignity of being the wash basin for a rather odious raccoon. The corpulent ball of mischief disrespectfully washed its paws and muzzle in the scent waters, removing the mud and grit he'd acquired whilst exploring a nearby mud-puddle. He'd also discovered the delightful trick of sliding from one end of the tub to the other on his slick fur. The soap dish made for a perfect place to store his collection of crayfish. In short, he'd discover raccoon paradise.

Or so he'd initially thought.

Just as he poked his nose above the tub's rim in eternal search of food, the air began to stink of ozone. His whiskers twitched curiously, suddenly alert, but unable to determine if there was truly danger about. He climbed up onto the edge, steadying his rounded behind on the bronze facet. He sniffed again, body twitching with tension.

Silently, the air some feet away appear to split open, vomiting shadows out of a vicious wound in Reality. They were quickly followed by a short woman, who stepped into existence as casually as fox exiting its burrow. She immediately caught of her furred observer and jumped back with a startled shriek. The sound set the raccoon to flight and he dashed off into the dark forest, leaving paradise behind him; much to the tub's relief.


Solitaire clutched her chest, trying to slow her rapid breathing. The transition between the Queen and the Forest Arden had been almost instantaneous. So to have been greeted by something very large, furred, and obviously dangerous had been a bit of a shock. Fortunately, the hellish beast with the glowing eyes had retreated back into the woods. Even so, her fractured nerves remained raw and her blood pounded deafeningly in her ears. She regretted the shriek, having wished for a more dignified arrival.

Not a very becoming start for negotiations, if one of Julian's Rangers had witnessed her entrance.

But, at least, she had found the correct location for Julian's camp. When she'd originally stolen the tub from Rose Hall, the concept of utilizing it as an Anchor had never entered her mind. Perhaps Fate had smiled on her that day, providing her with an unrealized reward for her sympathetic thievery. Perhaps it was just blind luck. Either way, Solitaire had been able to locate it in Shadow rather quickly; its uniqueness and intrinsic connection to the Princess Islain acting like a beacon for the Logrus.

With her composure regained, she scanned the clearing and the tree line beyond. She noticed the faint orange glow of campfires in the distance. The rich scents of cooking meat and woodsmoke floated in the air. A faint path led in that direction, well worn by human feet.

 Despite the darkness, she knew she could find her way into their

midst with little effort.

A knot of dread filled her stomach, tying her to the clearing. She tugged on her ear, suddenly regretting this course of action. No. Not regretting. She'd realized its necessity the moment she'd conceived of the dangerous notion. This wasn't regret, no more so than she'd regret the consequences that might befall her enemy as a result thereof. This was doubt, plain and simple. She doubted that she could survive this encounter. Doubted she could make this man listen to her. But mostly, she simply doubted herself.

A deep sigh escaped her and she yanked on her ear again. The bit of pain sharpened her thoughts. Goran believed in her. Her family believed in her. Even a relative stranger had believed in her tonight.

"I am not a mouse," she said firmly, recalling Portia's words.

And with that Baroness "Not-A-Mouse" Helgram marched up the hill toward Julian Barimen's camp as if she belonged there.

At least, she started to.

Before she had gone more than three paces, a voice spoke, seemingly almost in her ear.

"And do you have any more proper name than that, Miss Not-a-Mouse?"

The voice was warm, rich, masculine ... and decidedly amused.

Solitaire further undermined her proclamation by letting out a startled squeak. Her heart leapt up and proceeded to throttle her brain into temporary inactivity. She scanned her surroundings with wide, darting eyes, but found nothing beyond shadow and moon glow. Beneath her hand, she could feel her pulse slowing back to a respectable level of sheer terror.

"I am Mous…MISS… Solitaire Helgram," she said in a shaky voice. "Baroness. To be exact."

She pursed her lips and raised her head haughtily; more angry at herself than unseen speaker. "You should know. That it's very rude. To scare someone like that. Umm. Sir." Solitaire placed her fists on her hips and tried to look imposingly regal.

Tried anyway.

"It's also very dangerous to drop into the Warden of Arden's camp and give your name as Helgram," said the voice. "Now you leave me to wonder whether my lord will reward me more for your corpse than he will for your living presence."

Solitaire stiffened slightly, but held her courage. "If you were going to kill me. You'd have already done it. When I arrived," she said, hoping this was true. "I am a close friend of Princess Islain. I was the one that gave her the tub. So, please. Do not condemn me for my namesake. I'm well aware of the stigma it holds."

Her eyes shifted from violet to oily black as she invoked her Logrus Sight; trying to locate the speaker through means other than simple vision. "Indeed," she added. "This why I seek the true Warden. My family has. Begun something terrible. Something I do not agree with."

Solitaire bowed her head, "Please, sir. I need to speak to Prince Julian. Will you take me to him?"

"And how will your convince me that you haven't come here as an assassin?" the voice asked.

And she felt something very strange - and though her Logrus was taken in a soft hand and gently stroked ... then released.

Solitaire gave no resistance to this intrusive scrutiny, even though she'd been taught to do otherwise. Instead, she opened herself to this strange sensation and studied it in return. She found the sensation most intriguing and her curiosity bloomed. Later, she must inquire about this strange talent of his.

"You have power enough," the voice said - and there was a certain dryness to it now.

That took Solitaire by surprise, and it shone on her face like moonlight reflecting off a wind-touched pond. "Me?" she said, shaking her head. "No."

"Now," said the voice musingly, "you are being disingenuous."

Solitaire opened her mouth to protest further, but relented. She saw no point in pressing the issue, considering the fellow's rather stalwart views regarding her abilities.

She stared pleadingly at the gloom around her, "No, sir. I have no weapons or malice here. Nor secrets. I give you my word. My intentions are honorable. I realize. That might not mean much. Me being a Chaosian. But I swear, sir. I am in far greater danger for being here. Than I could ever pose to Prince Julian."

Solitaire hung her head, "Would you prefer I negate my abilities? That will leave me. Helpless. But I will do so if you ask."

"And you think the Logrus would permit that? I very much doubt it," said the voice drily. "Not after it went to such pains to preserve you not once, but twice.

"And what is this mouse in the forest? Is this the same woman who commanded Lord Ishtar and Lord Suhuy for training?"

Soltaire blanched, covering the squeak of shock before it completely escaped. She gulped audibly and then spun around in circles, desperately trying to locate the source of this voice. "You know about that?! How could you?" Of all the subjects she'd expected to discuss in the Arden, this had certainly been the last.

She gave up in her search, slumping forward, defeated. "Yes," she said, "that's me. But. I don't usually. Demand things. Not even now."

Her head rose, the moonlight being swallowed in the murky gloom of her eyes. Her tiny body straightened up with renewed vigor and poise. "If you know this much about me. Then you know that. I could find you if I really wanted to. But I won't. If you know anything about me. Then you know that to be true."

"That you could find me?" asked the voice, interested. "Or that you won't? Both of those seem to me to be based on hypotheticals - you may or you may not have the power to find one such as I. But even if you really, really wanted to ... I might be better than that. And you're hypothesising that I know something about you rather than having been asked by, say, Suhuy, to look you up and give you some advice."

"Well that would make sense," Solitaire said in a low voice. "You're as annoyingly obtuse as he is."

She tugged on her ear, frowning faintly at the shadows. "Are you one of his demons? Come to warn me against my current course of action, perhaps?" Her hands fell to her hips, resting there. "Because. I've had enough people telling me what to do tonight. And threatening me. Overtly and subtly.

"Now. I've been polite. But time is short."

With a faint hurumph, she began toward the path again; albeit walking slower than she had before.

She went three paces before she saw a dark figure standing in her path. How long he or she had been there was impossible to say, so silently the figure stood and so perfectly their clotthing merged with the vegetation. The figure held a bow, raised and pointed at Tear.

"Don't move," it advised, and she realised this was a woman's voice. "There are five of us watching you ...

"Now. Who were you talking to? Where are they?"

Solitaire stepped back in shock, catch completely flatfooted. The night had been rife with surprises and they were beginning to wear on her nerves. It took a moment for her to find her voice. "I. I don't know," she stuttered. "I thought they were a Ranger. But I'm not so sure now."

Her violet eyes turned black as she studied the glittering arrowhead aimed at her. The Logrus expanded her perception in every direction, filling her mind with an cool clarity. She analyzed the statistically-predictable angles of attack for this terrain, and then incorporated the likely trajectories of incoming attacks into a spell structure. By altering the air currents around her, Solitaire was reasonable certain she could deflect any arrows before they struck her.

That was if the woman had told the truth about their being five of attackers.

Before the Ranger realized her attention rested elsewhere, Solitaire held out her hands in supplication. "I am Baroness Solitaire Helgram. A friend of Princess Islain. I am here to speak. With Prince Julian. Regarding a possible threat to him."

"I find it hard to see how any of your name could claim friendship with an Amberite," said the Ranger drily, "and perhaps I should warn you that - at the moment - the Warden is not best pleased by the mention of the Princess's name. But I will take you too him. Follow me."

"Thank you," Solitaire said, bowing her head. "And I will keep that in mind."

The young baroness scanned the tree line nervously and began to follow her guide.

The woman turned and began to make her way with a silent, purposeful step through the forest, not looking to see if Solitaire was following. But she did say, "If you have any other reasons for your visit that might be spoken of openly, it would be good to tell me."

Solitaire nodded again, speaking to the woman's back. "I see no reason to keep them to myself. You said before that. You find it hard to believe that one by my name would claim friendship to an Amberite. But. I am a daughter of Amber before I am a baroness of Chaos." She rung her hands as they continued walking, trying to steady the tenor of her voice.

"I believe my old mentor. The Prime Minister. Is considering an attack on your encampment. If he has not already put such a plan into action already. I came to warn Prince Julian of its possibility. And to tell him of even darker matters. A true threat to Amber."

"Amber is in Chaosian hands," said the Ranger. "What greater threat could there be?"

They were starting to climb up a slope now, still thickly forested so that Solitaire could not see the angle of the incline even, let alone how far she would have to climb (or scramble). But she could smell distant wood-smoke.

Solitaire lifted her dress slightly to avoid stepping on it. Tripping would send her tumbling back the way they came and a broken neck rarely made a good first impression. She picked up the pace as best she could; thanking the Serpent for the endurance her weekly forays up Kolvir had provided her.

"Amber's dissolution, for a start," she said plainly. "The systematic genocide of all Pattern-touched for another."

The Ranger nearly missed a step.

"And Mandor plans all this?" she said. "The Warden will be ... surprised."

Solitaire noticed the change in the Ranger's stance. Good, she thought. You haven't heard that yet. A second and far darker thought struck her. She could hold her tongue on this and let them slip Mandor into the nearest soup-pot. Kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. But that would put Amber at risk and that she would not do.

Not even her family's safety or her need for revenge were more important that Amber.

"No," she admitted, catching up with her guide. "He has been caught off guard by this development. And he has fallen from favor in the eyes of the Emperor, I suspect. A member of my House has arrived in Amber. He's well known as a fanatic, devoted to the Serpent. The Pattern is an affront to him and his followers. And he. Has the Emperor's ear."

Solitaire shivered noticeably, "He needs to be stopped. And Prince Julian may be able to help. But. I think Mandor may have already moved against him. And you. That is why I am here."

She paused for a moment, raising a brow as she stared up at the woman. "May. May I know your name, madame?"

"My name is Sparrow," replied the Ranger. "But what the Warden will want to know is why do you betray your House for the sake of Amber, which is ruled by a man you clearly detest?"

Solitaire flinched as if she'd been slapped. Her violet eyes burned with hurt as she stared up at Sparrow. She shook her head and sighed inwardly. Why should it be any different in the Arden as is it was in the University? Suddenly, the young woman felt very alone, almost to the point of despondency. After twenty years of living between two worlds, why did being a half-breed hurt still so much?

Half-breed. The word stung her to the core. Neither Amberite nor Chaosian. Could such a creature fit into either world? Particularly the one she considered her true home? Of course, Sparrow would think it strange. She didn't understand Solitaire's heart. Nor would Julian.

But she needed them to understand. She had to make them know her heart.

"I am an Amberite," she stated, firmly; her voice louder than she could have imagined.

"I am an Amberite," she repeated, resolute. "And I will not see my home fall to ruin."

"You come a little late for that," said Sparrow drily, "or so the Warden would say."

"I am beginning to see that," Solitaire said sadly. "Indeed, I'm beginning to see. A great many things differently."

They had gained now a shallow prominence - there were trees growing here in a circle, and within that, long green barrows, perhaps tombs to the dead. In the centre was a curcle of saracen stones, and within that a group of men.

"You are fortunate," said Sparrow, "to come to one of the most sacred places in the wood. To day the Warden remembers his lost son."

Solitaire covered her mouth in shock; a tiny squeak of horror brushing over fingers. "Oh my," she said. "I. I had no idea. I'm so sorry. I. I can wait." But she didn't believe or truly mean her last words. She realized how dreadfully short her time happened to be.

The guilt settled in, tainted by recent thoughts of Solitaire's own losses. Her father. Her mother. But to lose a son? Her hand went to her belly, resting there protectively. She could not bear such a thing. The emptiness beneath her hand felt heavier than usual. Her dreams of having a child had been shattered tonight. But the yearning remained.

A thought struck her and she paused. "Lady Sparrow?" she said. "Can you wait for a moment? I. I should bring him something. It's only right. For disturbing his time of reflection."

Solitaire made certain Sparrow observed her as she summoned wispy, black strands of Logrus between her fingers. "I'm just summoning him a gift. This is perfectly benign."

Sparrow looked startled - and then alarmed.

Solitaire closed her eyes and let the tendrils reach through Shadow, questing. It didn't take long to find what she required; she knew the tiny shop well. A hint of flowers filled the air around her, mixed with the scents of herbs and exotic spice. She could feel the smooth stalks and silken petals caress her mind. Her hand twisted, knitting the cat's-cradle of shadow around her desires and then pulled it towards her gently.

The Logrus coalesced into a floral arrangement of lilies, rosemary, and Canterbury bells wrapped with a touch of lace.

Solitaire opened her eyes and smiled humbly. "A touch of Amber," she said. "For his son."

Somewhere, a hound was howling, and Sparrow was staring at her in horror. "You called the Logrus," she whispered. "In the heart of Arden. Do you not understand what he will do?"

There were sounds ... people moving. A shout - a voice raised and then broken off abruptly. A bird singing in panic on a nearby tree.

"They will kill me for bringing you so far," Sparrow said in that same, faint tone. "And you ... they will hunt as an animal ... "

Solitaire blinked with genuine incomprehension. Why would a simple act of conjuration condemn them both to death? No matter the reason, her heart leapt at the approaching sounds. And those howls. Well, even an urban-dweller like herself knew what they meant. Trouble was coming.

A rush of terror filled her, but disappeared almost immediately; dispelled by her concern for Sparrow's safety.

"No," she said. The tone of her voice held a deep command, so atypical for the diminutive woman it came from. "You will not be harmed, Sparrow. Not while I draw breath. Get behind me. You'll not suffer for my mistake."

Solitaire held the flowers to her tiny chest and puffed herself up. What she lacked in stature, she made up for in pluck and determination. Although the Logrus sang in her ears, drawn out by the rush of her trembling heart, she muffled the shadowy chorus until it had faded into silence. She felt naked without it, a defenseless hind standing before the approaching wolves.

But she had other talents to protect Sparrow.

This little mouse still had teeth.

She muttered a soft incantation, holding the last syllables in check until she needed them.

A group of men, dressed in the greens and browns of Rangers came into the clearing. That they were expecting danger was clear from their drawn bows. But the hounds that snarled at their feet made no attempt to pounce, and the men parted for the one who stood in their midst, gazing steadily at Solitaire and Sparrow, his face expressionless but without pity, without yielding.

"So," said Julian. "Who is this who calls upon the Logrus within my forest?"

Solitaire held the flowers closer to her chest, staring up at the imposing figure before her. Out of the corner of her eye, all she could see were teeth and fur and malice. She swallowed audibly, only to find her tongue had gone as dry as rice paper. Steeling herself, she managed a polite curtsy.

"It was I, my Prince," she said. "Forgive my ignorance. And for disturbing your night of reflection. I summoned these for you. Flowers from a small shop in Amber. In honor of your son." She gazed up at him with shameful eyes of crushed violets. Timidly, she offered him the flowers.

Julian frowned. "You think my son would take pleasure in dying blooms, untimely ripped from the earth?"

Solitaire blinked at this, confusion flaring in her violet eyes. "I. I. I thought…" she stuttered, clutching the flowers to her chest like a shield. She bowed her head sadly, unable to meet this piercing gaze for the moment. "I used to buy these for my parents. For their grave, sir. I thought. They might bring you some. Solace. Like they do for me. I'm sorry."

She chewed her lip, "This isn't. How this was supposed to go. But..."

"I beg of you, Prince Julian," she added, more desperate now. "Do not allow this transgression to impugn upon Lady Sparrow's honor. She has been the embodiment of your Rangers since discovering me. And she could not have known what I was about to do. Nor have stopped me in time to prevent my offense to the Arden. She is completely innocent and I take full responsibility. I am sorry." This last piece she said to Sparrow, the shame deepening in features.

Sparrow gave a curt nod as though to acknowledge this, but her eyes were still fixed on Julian.

Finally, with a resolute nod, she straightened up. "I am Baroness Solitaire Helgram, Daughter of the Serpent and Child of Amber…" She paused for emphasis, "...and the Ward of Prime Minister Mandor.

She sensed rather than saw a tightening of intensity among the Rangers - but there was no change in Julian's expression or stance.

"I come to you with grave tidings and perhaps a warning. I betray my mentor's confidence and rule freely, for it is my love of Amber that hold's sway over my heart. Not him."

"And why," said Julian, "should you love Amber when so many have betrayed her and brought her to the dust?"

Solitaire wrinkled her nose and put her hand on her hip, clearly offended; blissfully unaware of the scowl readily apparent on her lips. To her, the answer to his gruff question was perfectly obvious; even asking it of her appeared rather insulting. But she quickly realized that Julian could not know her heart. He'd simply spoken pragmatically.

"Because it is my home, sir," she said in a calm tone. "I am a child of Amber. It is all I've known. I was born there. I grew up there. I will raise my children there. And I will die there. I love Amber. You understand that, I'm sure.

"But I cannot speak for others. And perhaps I have been. Naive when it comes to many things. But I know the True City is peril, my prince. A greater peril than it's ever known. So please. Will you allow me to speak with you? And perhaps together we can serve Amber, as is our responsibility?"

Julian stared at her for a long minute, still expressionless.

Then he turned.

"Bring her," he said curtly, and he strode away into the forest.

At once the Rangers moved to form a guard around her. Sparrow had seemingly disappeared as the tallest Ranger indicated that they were to follow Julian.

Solitaire cast a nervous glance amongst the faces, but could not locate her former guide. She bit her lip deeply, filled with worry for the woman. It seemed ludicrous that she felt so much concern for someone she'd just met, but she could no more change her nature than a platypus could appear remotely normal. But short as she was, all the young sorceress could see were chests and sword-belts surrounding her.

 She gave up trying and followed after Julian.

Once again, she had difficulty keeping the pace set by her guards. The flowers in her arms prevented her from moving them, and ruined her balanced. She stumbled over a root or tangle here and there, apologizing for her awkwardness as she went. And secretly she thanked Portia for not providing her with high heels; otherwise, she'd probably have been left to the hounds.

It was a long journey ...

Eventually, Dolitaire found herself in a small clearing. There were huts here, and rope ladders that seemed to lead up to the heights of the trees. But the Rangers indicated a tightly woven willow bower arranged to one side of the clearing.

"In there," said one.

It seemed they would let her make her way there alone.

It took him a moment to recapture Solitaire's attention. She'd lost herself in the natural wonderment of the camp. After years of sculpted lawns and parks, all this 'wildness' entranced her, filling her with a childish curiosity. Any exhaustion weighing upon her from the trip, now lifted from her tiny shoulders as easily as silk. She could almost forget that her life hung by a thread.

Finally, she nodded to her guide, "Thank you, sir." With that, she slipped beneath the wooden doorway and into the natural space beyond.

"My Prince?" she said, clutching the flowers tightly.

"Enter," he said. "Put down those dying weeds and tell me what news your bring, Baronness."

He indicated a simple camp chair where she might sit.

Solitaire set the flowers down near the doorway, offering a whispered prayer to the nameless son for which she'd summoned them. Then, with a shy smile, she sat in the chair Julian had indicated.

Staring into his cold eyes, her heart froze once more. The true depth of her purpose her settled into her bones like killing frost. The fiery blooms of rebellion, however, survived the touch of this wintry doubt. Her voice came forth, no longer restrained by fear.

"Firstly," she began, "you may wish to double your outer patrols, my Prince. And be prepared to retreat. Mandor declared Prince Damien the Warden of Arden tonight. Although my peers laughed under their breath at this pronouncement. They do not know him as I do. My Master says nothing without meaning to his words. If he says a thing.

 He means that thing.  I suspect he has launched an assault on your

encampment.”

Julian's dark eyebrows lifted slightly, but he said nothing as Solitaire continued.

"And if Princess Islain is now in Amber, my fear of this being true is even more profound. She is of use to him. You are not. I suspect he removed her from the Arden to prevent her from being killed in whatever dark plans he might have for you and your brave Rangers."

Solitaire knitted her fingers together, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "And this could not come at a worse time. You see. A prominent member of my House recently arrived in Amber. Duke Uther Helgram." Her tiny body trembled at the name, as if someone had just walked over her grave. And, considering the condition she'd found one of the Duke's agents, that might just well be true.

"He is a fanatic, my Prince. A True Believer. He intends to destroy everything touched by the Pattern. Beginning with Amber, I think. He also has the Emperor's ear, so he has the resources to do so.

"But. He doesn't understand the true ramifications of such a thing. Or. Worse. He knows /exactly/ what may happen." She licked her lips, unwilling to put those thoughts to words just yet.

Instead, she leaned forward and opened her hands pleadingly, "That is why I came to you, my Prince. If you are undone by Mandor's foolish plans, there will be no hope for us. You needed to be warned. No matter the cost."

"I needed to be warned," he echoed. "no matter what the cost."

There seemed to be a faint smile on his face.

Solitaire nodded to this, wishing to press the point.

"Would it surprise you, Baronness, to learn that - among other protective measures I have taken to protect Arden, I have people who would inform me of any assault planned against me, of any planned assault against me, of any unusual movement of troops, of any orders that might inmpinge in any way on our security? Had you come to warn me of a lone assassin at my door, I might have believed you. But there is no assault against my encampment. There will be no assault. Mandor was throwing an empty title to his dog.

"And as you are mistaken in that, I must wonder what else you are mistaken in. Or whether Mandor sent you here for his own purposes, whether you are aware of it or not."

Solitaire blinked in confusion. There had been doubt in her words, but she never would have believed Julian could be so well-informed. And now he would doubt anything she said about the Duke.

He had, however, held Arden against the forces of Chaos for a century. Reason might suggest he commanded more resources than a pack of rather good bowmen and some well bred hounds.

She sagged forward, sighing deeply. This had been for nothing after all. She covered her face in her hands, fighting back the tears and exhaustion. But a nagging thought continued to weasel its way into her mind. "I'm not mistaken," she said quietly. "Not about the Duke."

The young girl slumped back into the chair and brushed her bangs away from her puffy eyes. "Is that how you knew I'd arrived here? But. But how did you know about me and the Logrus? And Suhuy? That was you hiding in the grove, wasn't it?

"You've just been. Teasing me. Haven't you?"

"Suhuy?" he said sharply. He leaned forward, catching her around the wrist, not intending to hurt her. But she was instantly aware of the cruel power in those hands. "Suhuy is here? In Arden?"

However benign Julian’s intentions may have been, Solitaire gave a shrill yelp as he grabbed her wrist, cowering beneath his raised voice and imposing eyes. She pulled away, but her arm may as well have been trapped in steel, rather than flesh. Any courage she’d had now fled from her, leaving behind nothing more than a tiny mouse before an imposing lion.

“Please sir!” she begged. “I don’t know who it was. He hid himself. And he had Power that. I didn’t recognize. But he knew all about me. Things that. He shouldn’t! And that includes Suhuy. I thought. It was one of your Rangers. Or even you. But it isn’t Suhuy. I swear!"

Tears streaked the girl's make-up, ruining most of Portia’s handiwork. “Please stop. You’re scaring me.” She tugged futilely to get away, even though she is possessed the dreadful understanding that she had nowhere to go.

He released her wrist abruptly, standing, his face turned away.

Solitaire sniffled and began to cradle her wrist protectively. Tears continued to stain her flushed cheeks, but for the moment they were more crocodilian in nature than fear-inspired. She gave Julian a fixed stare while he spoke, her violet eyes smoldering.

"I have some here who are Logrus-sensitive," he said quietly, and she realised he granted her this explanation by way of apology for hurting her unintentionally. "You can understand ... any manifestation of the power within these woods ... I see it as the greatest danger. For one who harbours no ill will towards us ... prove this by not manifesting such power within my boundaries a second time, though death should threaten."

"I will swear to this on one condition," she said. "That Sparrow is not punished in any way for my previous mistake. She is blameless for my transgression." With a nod, she apparently believed this matter settled.

Solitaire continued to cradle her wrist, "I don't know who I spoke to in the grove, my Prince. But he knew me. And this troubles me a great deal. Were you able to detect my arrival here? If not. This fellow might be the least. Of your worries."

"Why do you think Sparrow joined you?" said Julian drily. "She was not out for a morning stroll when she encountered you. We knew you were there. But Sparrow could have cost you your life - do you still believe she should go unpunished as though the think were a mere commonplace? Arden is not a pretty playground, Varonness, despite its beauties. It's wild, and those who attempt to impose any kind of Order here must do so sternly."

"I swore to protect her and so I shall," Solitaire replied. "I take my oaths very seriously. I know that's difficult for you to believe. Considering my former Master. But the truth is rarely what you expect."

She brushed her cheeks and straightened her hair; regaining some sense of normalcy. "Thus, I return to my true purpose here. I need your assistance. And while Amber is my first concern…" She paused to chew the corner of her mouth and let the swell of nervousness drain from her body.

"I also wish to protect my family," she admitted.

Solitaire shifted in the seat, staring up at the imposing Prince with eyes like crushed violets. "I find myself trapped, sir. On one side, my mentor has betrayed me. And his dog, Damien, has threatened to harm those dearest to me. Yet, on the other side, I know that Duke Uther is a grave threat to Amber and all within it. He will take advantage of Mandor's current political troubles. And when he finally strikes…"

She shook her head and sighed. "I no longer know where to turn, Prince Julian. If I lash out against the man willing to murder my family. Just to keep me in line. Then the Duke will go unopposed. Yet, if I assist Mandor against the Duke, he will discard my family like pieces on a chess board whenever the mood fancies him.

"But I have read of you, my Prince. That you have always been pure in your heart and your sense of duty. That you would do whatever must be done to preserve Amber. That you understand the love one has for their family.

Her checks were crimson by now, her lips trembling. "When Mandor announced his new Warden at the dinner tonight, I feared that the best hope for Amber would fall. Unwarned. Unawares.

"But maybe if I warned you. Maybe you would. Help me in turn."

Solitaire began to stand up, "I see now how foolish I was."

"I have done whatsoever was necessary to preserve Amber by being as ruthless as Amber needed me to be," said Julian. "It was I who arranged for Corwin to be blinded, I who stood by the forge when Eric turned away, sickened. That was for the good of Amber, Baronness. Am I really the man you would entrust yourself to?"

It was then that Solitaire felt the nudging pressure of a trump call.


Continued in The Mouse, The Spider, and the Sparrow

Page last modified on November 30, 2007, at 08:31 PM