Back to the CastleIndex | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | Back to the Castle
Once in the carriage Morgan pulled down the window shade, then rested his cousin's back and head against the corner. "Merl," he said softly. "What have you gone and done to yourself now?" He frowned, "Or is this the true intent of Johann's attack? Did he arrange for this somehow, and his little show with Damien just a distraction?" He tapped Merlin's face lightly with the tips of his fingers. "Can you hear me, Merl? Is anyone home?" "Pattern side effects on a Chaosian would be my guess," Goran mused loud enough for Morgan to hear, but not specifically speaking to him. "There was enough of that energy flying around out there." He never looked back, his concentration fully on the horses, who were still a bit spooky from all the activity. The wound in Goran's arm had long ago stopped bleeding and was only mildly uncomfortable now. "Yeah, whatever that all means," Morgan muttered. The high pitched whine in the back of Merlins throat changed as the guards waved them in under the gatehouse of the castle and into the courtyard. Now it was more guttural, more like a groan. His head lolled on Morgan's shoulder, but he gave no greater signs of consciousness. "It's OK, Merl," Morgan said. "We're about home. You'll feel better in your own bed." Goran, driving the carriage, was excellently placed to see the tall, slender figure who was awaiting their arrival in the courtyard. Flora. Goran had never met Princess Flora, but based on all the descriptions he'd heard, this winsome lady who stood before him could be no other. And she did not look amused. At that moment, Goran was quite happy to play the servant. He pulled the carriage up in the courtyard and set the brake. "Majesty? Lord Morgan? We have arrived," he called back simply. "We're here, Merl," Morgan said softly. "We'll have you in your own bed soon." He pushed open the door and leaned out, looking around. He looked relieved to see Flora. "Yell at me later, Aunt," he said quietly. "The King had an attack of some kind while Johann Payne was trying to kill Mandor. We need to get him to his room, and have someone see to him, without anyone knowing it's anything more than drink." He reached back into the carriage and brought his cousin out, cradling the king gently in his arms. Flora's eyes flickered briefly and then she nodded. "Help him out," she said quietly. "You can tell me the details later. Get him to his room - I'll join you there." Then she raised her voice. "The third time this month the pair of you have come home in a disgusting condition! Don't you realise that you should be beyond these stupid boys' tricks? Take him to his room - and you, boy - help Lord Morgan." She pointed to Goran. "Yes, Highness," Goran answered obediently. "I would wash my hands of the lot of you if I thought the Kingdom could manage without someone with a commonsense head on her shoulders!" She gestured wearily towards Merlin's rooms as though wafting them all from her sight. Morgan waited for Goran to descend and assist him, meanwhile saying loudly, "Yes, yes, Auntie Flo, agree completely, Auntie Flo, never do it again, Auntie Flo, you're right as always, Auntie Flo, wise indeed is the aged head and all that, Aunti Flo...." The look Flora shot him could have stripped centuries of paint back to the wood. Goran hopped down off the seat and helped where he could, but Morgan seemed to have matters in hand as he held Merlin protectively. Goran's primary task seemed to be holding the doors and making sure nothing got bumped that shouldn't be. "Where to, m'lord," he asked Morgan quietly. "Follow me," Morgan said. "We'll be making our way back to the royal apartments. Your job is to look at people and shake your head about how disgraceful we royals are, and make sure no one tries to talk to us." He began staggering slightly, still careful not to jostle Merlin, and started singing loudly. "Don't open up the cabin hatch; the air is sure to leave it, And air is very hard to catch; you never will retrieve it, And even though your life's a bore, don't open the reactor door, Don't open up the cabin hatch! "Don't change the navigator's data, someone's sure to see ya, You know the captain's view of that, a very bad idea, He doesn't want his ship to race forever lost in endless space, Don't change the navigator's data!" Merlin's moans were drowned out by Morgan's cheery singing ... But both Morgan and Goran could not but help be aware that every moan matched a slight accidental jolt to his body, as though every moment was exquisite agony. They passed various members of staff. Fortunately, most were used to the sight of Merlin and Morgan in a somewhat inebriated condition - and so simply grinned, or shook their heads, or ignored them - according to their dispositions. But at last they gained the bedroom ... the wide and spacious room that was the King's own - with a small bathing area attached. Morgan laid the king down gently on his bed. "Fetch me a cloth and a bowl of water," he told Goran. He loosened Merlin's collar and shirt, then took his pulse. "Yes, my lord," Goran replied, moving off into the bathroom to fetch the supplies. He poured water into a decorative basin and discovered some towels in a cabinet. All the while, he considered the king's predicament. Goran was fairly certain he knew what Larissa had done and why it had affected Merlin, with his Chaosian magics, the way it did. What he didn't know was how to cure the effects. He certainly did not wish to experiment on the King in front of someone who was so obviously protective of him. Instead, he simply brought the supplies back to Morgan, deciding that treating the symptoms would be the best course of action. Morgan accepted the towels and water from Goran silently, but with a slight frown and a pause, before turning back to Merlin. He dipped the cloth in water and applied it to Merlin's head, and then his wrists, making soothing sounds, before saying quietly. "You've been with the Queen for what, five years? Ten? Something like that?" "Something like that," Goran answered vaguely, the quirked eyebrow indicating a wonder about why Morgan was asking. "Uh huh," Morgan slid one of Merlin's eyelids up to check on his eyes. It was still fixed and seeming staring at nothing. "And is there a lot of discussion of Pattern energy and its effects on Chaosians among the security staff? Much less, how to recognize when there's a lot of 'that energy flying around'?" He turned to look at Goran. "I believe that's what you said, wasn't it?" "It was, my lord. It's no secret that Lady Petra is a descendant of the late King Oberon," Goran explained confidently. "And I've traveled in Shadow with her before. To Cornaro, among other places, to bring things back for the ship. I asked questions and she explained things. Thought we should know, since we cater to so many of the royals aboard ship. Vincenzo could recognize the same things, I'm sure." As the young security officer spoke at more length than before, Morgan could notice the vestiges of a slight accent that did not quite fit as Cornaran or any nearby shadows of Amber. "Could he?" Morgan stared at him a moment longer, then turned back to Merlin. "Maybe so. I didn't think baselines could detect that sort of power. But I'm hardly an expert." "Not the power. The results," Goran clarified. "Flames don't just stop that quickly, my lord. Coupled with the trance-like state Lady Larissa seemed to be in, and her proximity to the King," he shrugged humbly, "it seemed likely that she was using the powers of Oberon's line somehow. But I could be wrong. I've only heard about these things in theory." "Ah," Morgan answered, sounding satisfied. "Observation and applied intelligence. Good traits for a security man." [Morgan] stood up. "Help me get him undressed. He'll be more comfortable that way. And drop the 'my lord'. If you're going to be around me for any period of time I'd prefer 'Captain,' or 'sir'." "Yes, sir," Goran replied and began tugging at Merlin's boots. Merlin was still seemingly deeply unconscious. Morgan slipped Merlin's shirt off, trying to move his limbs as little as possible. Each movement, however, resulted in a faint whimper from Merlin. "As I'm sure you've heard, we're going to try to keep this quiet. Exposing a weakness of the king is not in the interests of Amber. Better everyone just think he's drunk." "That's enough of a weakness as it is," Goran commented, though he seemed more to be analyzing the situation than being judgmental. [Morgan] tossed the shirt into a corner and began unbuttoning the king's pants. "Do you need to return to the Queen immediately? Or can you stay? I'd like to have someone to help keep out interested courtiers and nosy castle staff. Someone who already knows what's going on." "If I'm to be in trouble with the lady of the establishment, I'm probably already there, sir," Goran said, beginning to gingerly pull on the bottoms of Merlin's trouser legs. "Orders from the King are orders from the King. I assume you're authorized to interpret the moans as such?" "As authorized as anyone, and more believed than most when I say it," Morgan answered. He tried to inject a note of cheerful carelessness into his voice, but it was obvious he was still worried. "Here's the plan, then. Until Mandor, Flora, or Larissa shows up, you don't let anyone in without checking with me. The doors can hold most people out, even sorcerers. I'll be staying in here with the king. If any of those three want in, let them. Anyone else - anyone at all - you come and check with me before opening the door." Morgan sighed then, and wiped his face with his hand. "When Petra gave you these lectures on Pattern energy and Chaosians, did she ever give any suggestions on treatment?" he asked. He slipped the king's pants off, and they joined his shirt on the floor. He gently drew a sheet up to cover the king. "'Fraid not, Captain," Goran grimaced apologetically. "In fact, she never explained the Chaosian thing. That was another case of applied intelligence. Amberites and Chaosians seem to be opposites, from everything I've heard. Power for one would likely be harmful to the other. Like acid and base." He looked down at Merlin, his eyes narrowed. "Maybe whatever Lady Larissa did neutralized his own powers somehow. She'd probably be the best place to start to figure how how to solve the problem," he speculated. "Yeah," Morgan answered. But then he shook his head. "Only we're all related somehow. Oberon's father was a Lord of Chaos, you know. So it's all confused. D@mn this family, anyway." "Oh? Huh," Goran grunted, as if the information was news to him. "Right, then, that's why 'Rissa gets a free pass. She did it, she needs to come in and fix it." Goran scanned the room one last time, as if looking for clues or possible sources of trouble. "Shall I wait outside the door then, sir?" he asked finally, everything seeming to be in order. "Yes, thank you," Morgan answered. He bent over and pulled a half empty bottle out from under the bed and uncorked it and raised it to his lips.
Goran exited and closed the door behind him. He took up a position in the hallway beside the door, leaning casually against the wall. After a moment, he began picking at his bloody sleeve, trying to see through the hole in the fabric to determine what exactly was happening with his arm. To his surprise, although there was clearly blood on his shirt, to say nothing of the remembered pain, there was no physical sign that a bullet had grazed him. As he waited, he became aware that he was being approached by an unfamiliar woman - and an all-too-familiar desert fox. "Groin!" Tasntaafl chimed. "What in the bloody blazes are you doing here? And you're hurt." A hint of concern entered his voice. "You owe me money. You can't die on me, buddy." Goran rolled his eyes, but he smirked good-naturedly at his furry friend. "It's a flesh wound, Tan. Not to worry." Tanstaafl wriggled in Coirann's arm, "He's a friend. You can let me down now. I'll walk the rest of the way. Sweetheart… this is Goran. Goran, this is my better half, Corry." "How many halves do you have, fox-cat?" Goran teased, then turned a charming smile on Coirann. "Miss Corry. How do you do? It seems the King needed a designated driver from his revels on the Ramblin' Queen. I was elected." "'Coirann,' actually," she said, knuckling Tanstaafl's head a little harder than was comfortable before she put him down. "Is Morgan available? I, or this little degenerate," she nudged the fox in question with her foot, "have to speak with him, on the Princess Larissa's behalf." "My pardons," Goran apologized with a gracious nod for messing up her name. Tanstaafl snorted, lowering his ears as he received the more than light rap on his head. "See the abuse I take?" he muttered, padding over to Goran. "She's cute, but has definitely picked up Larissa's temper." Wrapping his tail around him, he sat down on his haunches. "Seriously though, we'd heard that the King had been injured in some manner. Princess Larissa thought I or Tear might be able to shed some light on the situation, if we looked at him. Tear, for whatever reason, hasn't returned from Chaos. So, I'm here to help out in her stead. "Coirann is good people. You can trust her. Mind introducing the two of us to the King's Keeper?" "Captain Morgan asked not to be disturbed, but I expect he'll see you if you were sent by Her Highness. Hold on," Goran said amiably. He opened the door and scooted through it, keeping a foot at the ready to make sure no little balls of fluff snuck through without permission. Just inside the door, Goran turned to Morgan. "Captain? I have two outside who say they were sent by Lady Larissa. A Mistress Coirann and Tanstaafl, assistant to Baroness Solitaire Helgram?" Morgan waited until the door had closed, then lowered the bottle from his lips without drinking. He replaced the cork and stood, a look of exhaustion crossing his face for a moment. Then he walked across the room to a table, and brought a chair from the table over to Merlin's bed, leaving the bottle on the table. He sat, leaning back in the chair, and watched Merlin's sleeping face. At first Merlin seemed deeply asleep. Not a drunken sleep - Morgan had seen those often enough. No, this was like a drugged sleep - on Earth, perhaps, the still, healing sleep of a hospital patient in the recovery room. And then, quite suddenly, Merlin began to curl in on himself, yet flailing around on the bed. He was muttering to himself, but when Morgan bent to listen, it seemed to be two words, repeated over and over again, which changing emphasis and, it seemed, increasing desperation. "Mother." "No." "Shhh," Morgan whispered, wiping Merlin's brow with the wet towel. "It's all right." Merlin muttered something incoherent - and then his hand suddenly shot out and grabbed Morgan's wrist. Suddenly his eyes were open, darker than usual - two pools of black ... "We have to stop her," he said clearly. Then his eyes rolled up in his head and he slumped down once more. At that moment, the door opened and Goran stepped inside. "Captain? I have two outside who say they were sent by Lady Larissa. A Mistress Coirann and Tanstaafl, assistant to Baroness Solitaire Helgram?" Goran's eyes widened as he saw the king slump down, but he awaited Morgan's instructions without further comment. Morgan could not be sure whether Goran had heard the King's last words or not. There was a pause before Morgan stood, and when he turned to face Goran his face once more held its usual sardonic grin. "Cory and Fuzzy?" he asked. "Well, and why not? Bring them on it. If they can't help, at least they'll cheer the place up some. No reason we shouldn't have a party while we wait for Merl to wake up." Merlin now seemed to have slumped back into unconsciousness. "Yes, sir," Goran agreed and opened the door for the two in the hallway. "Captain Morgan will see you, Mistress Coirann and... Fuzzy," he announced, with a wicked smirk down at Tanstaafl. "That's Sir Fuzzy, Butt-munch," Tanstaafl mock-growled. He padded through the door with his tail held up regally. But his mirth immediately bled away upon seeing the King. He pounced up onto the foot of the bed for a better look. With a brief nod to Morgan, he got right down to business. Morgan leaned up agains the wall of the bedroom and watched. Coirann, duty discharged, entered silently and stood against the wall nearest the door, arms folded and eyes almost closed. "How long has he been like this, Captain?" Tanstaafl said, his ears drooping with obvious worry. "In time? A couple of hours at most," Morgan answered. "You want to know what happened, or would you rather make observations without prejudice first?" Goran stood to the side, watching the procedings with an unflinching eye. Tanstaafl quirked his ears as he considered Morgan's suggestion. He gave a nod, "Let me have a look at him first," he said. "Then you can tell me what happened. And you might want to contact Vikund. As far as I know, he's the only one with a Trump of Tear. You may need her help." Beginning at Merlin's feet, the fox began to sniff intently, working his way up Merlin's body. Hopefully, his keen senses and years of training would provide him some insight into the man's strange condition. "Vik, huh?" Morgan said. "For having such great taste in hanging around with a handsome and clever fellow like you, she sure has balanced it out with Vik." "Snake," Tanstaafl growled under his breath. "Well, you know women. Always choosing the bad boys." He raised his head and cast an apologetic smile at Coirann. "No offense. This bad boy is delighted that you love him so." He resumed sniffing, his voice jagged as broken ice. "Tear is love. So, not only is she her usually oblivious self, she's wearing rose-colored glasses when it comes to that sleazebag." Goran couldn't hold back the snort of amusement. One would get the impression that he couldn't agree more. "So Tear's in Chaos, Tan? What the hell's she doing there?" he asked. Tanstaffl raised his head in annoyance. "Yes. Mandor sent her on a 'diplomatic mission.' You know. Picking up impressionable women for King Stiffy here." He shook his head and grumped. "She should have been back. Something is wrong. I feel it in my tail." His tail fluffed up with agitation, "Now, if you need to talk, talk amongst yourselves. When you have ears this big, you can't use them and your nose at the same time." He pawed Merlin's wrist and gave it a good sniff. "Right, Handsome," Morgan said. He turned his head to Goran. "No more bothering him, Goran, while he's checking out my meal ticket. If Merlin doesn't recover I might have to start working for a living." But no matter hoiw hard Tanstaafl concentrated as he sniffed, even his delicate nose couldn't register anything ... to his senses, the king seemed to be deeply asleep, exhausted. Perhaps his energy levels were more depleted than one would expect ... but perhaps too many heavy nights on the Queen were catching up with the King. "Lick pouch," Tanstaafl growled. "There's nothing here. Nothing!" He sat on his haunches and snorted. "If it's a poison or herb, I can't pick it up. And he doesn't smell like alcohol, so that pretty much says this isn't normal. Otherwise, my nose would be pickled. "And my magic skills are still lacking, so I can't tell you if it's something arcane. He is half-Chaosian, though. And they can enter the Dark Sleep, where the Logrus overrides their minds. But only Tear has ever suffered that outside of Chaos, as far as I know. I don't think it's a coma. I heard him cry out earlier, right?" He stared up at Morgan, "What exactly happened to him? And don't leave out any details. Even the silliest thing might help." Morgan nodded. "OK. It was a busy night. We met Larissa and Chadwick at La Fille Mal Garde. Didn't eat anything but some appetizers before we moved on. Oh, did you get the present I had them send you?" "Indeed," Tanstaafl chuckled. "Very tasty and popular with the ladies; the perfect combination. You're are a true connoisseur and a gentleman, Morg." Morgan paused just long enough for Tanstaafl to respond to that question before resuming. "From there we trumped to the Queen. Merl had a couple of girls, it's possible they were part of some plot, but unlikely. Unless I completely misread Petra. This morning we all met up on the Queen to head off for breakfast. Merl was in an excellent mood, certainly none the worse for drink. The Prime Minister had also spent the night on the Queen, and there's an oddity for you. He and Ingrey were together, and Merlin complained that it looked like Mandor wanted to speak with him. So we met with him. Ingrey was wandering off, Chadwick was with us. Larissa and Clytemnestra came driving up in a carriage." "And then things went boom. Quite literally. There was an explosion among the buildings, and as everyone turned to look Johann came jumping out of nowhere firing off his guns. Everyone went scrambling. Goran there shoved Mandor out of the way." Morgan frowned, then. "It seems to me that Goran was shot, although things were happening fast." He looked at Goran, and their might have been a shadow of suspicion in his eyes before he turned back to Tanstaafl. Goran met his gaze and shrugged. "It was just a graze, sir," he said dismissively. Tanstaafl noticed the look as well, briefly adding, "You can smell the blood on him. It's his alright. And he's about the most trustworthy person in Amber, Morg. I'd trust him with Tear's life." He gave Goran a serious nod of respect before allowing Morgan to continue. "Ingrey did some kind of sorcery, I believe. Mandor was just watching all this, doing nothing as far as I could see. And then Damien showed up, stabbed Johann in the back, and made some dramatic declamation about betrayed love and Johann putting his ideas ahead of their devotion to each other..." Morgan rolled his eyes. "Merlin ran over to help Rissa with the horses, who were panicking over all this. The fire was spreading fast, risking the whole dock. Rissa said something about containing the fire, and she did... something. With the Pattern, probably. Merl cried for her to stop, spun around, and hit the ground." Morgan shrugged. "Mandor said to pretend Merl was just drunk, which makes sense. Don't reveal weakness. We got him back here, and he's been like you see. Except for when he was crying out from pain at every little bump or jar." Goran nodded as Morgan concluded the tale. "Yes, that was how it happened," Goran concurred. "The Prime Minister seemed to have matters in hand, so I tried to flank Payne to take him from behind. Damien did the dirty work first, though, so I went back to the ship to see that all the passengers were off safely. "I got everyone into their carriages and when I turned back, Lady Larissa was in sort of a trance and the King was on the ground nearby. Whatever she was doing with her mind seemed to be dousing the fires. I got the impression she didn't realize it had affected the King. If indeed that was what affected him," Goran explained. Merlin on the bed, stirred slightly and muttered something incoherent again. "Damien taking Payne from behind," Tanstaafl snorted. "Yeah, there's a surprise." His furry brow furrowed in thought, while his tail flicked from side to side like a metronome. The tail abruptly stopped, caught in mid-air. "Larissa is Eric's daughter. He was perhaps one of the finest Pattern manipulators out there. Tear is fascinated by him, so she always has me reading his journals for her. I'll bet you dollars to donuts that she has some of his skills. It's in her blood, after all." He glanced over at Coirann, "You know her the best. Am I close to the mark?" "She is a Pattern Initiate," Coirann replied neutrally. The fox stood up and padded up the bed to settle once more beside Merlin's head. He lightly tapped the King's brow with his tail. "I'll bet you whatever Pattern voodoo Lissa pulled on the docks stirred up his melon like a martini. He's a creation of both Logrus and Pattern, right? That's got to be a dangerous balancing act. Expose him to too much of one of those forces and that tips the balance. This might be some kind of self-defense mechanism, shutting him down before he tears himself apart." Tanstaafl raised an ear, "Has anyone tried giving him Logrus infusion?" Goran had been listening intently to Tanstaafl without a trace of being lost in the conversation. At the question, though, he shrugged and shook his head blankly. "I seem to have misplaced all my tame Logrus masters," Morgan said drily. "And I'm not letting someone with a just a touch of Chaos experiment with the king. Mandor or Jurt, sure, it's not like I could stop them. Tear, if I was sure she knew what she was doing and that she wasn't getting carried away with the pure research aspects. I can't think of anyone else I'd let throw Chaos energy at him while he's defenseless." "Then Tear is your best choice," Tanstaafl said. "If you want to go that route, that is. She's quiet, discrete, and suffers from an overdeveloped sense of altruism. At the very least, she can provide him with a more thorough examination. And she's medically trained, as well. One of those real 'helpful' types. Disgusting really." His scratched his ear vigorously. "So, what did you want Corry and I to tell the Princess?" "That she is beautiful, desirable, and I love her to distraction," Morgan responded without hesitation. "Other than that, just the truth. You can't tell why Merl is unconscious, it will take someone with significant skill and knowledge of Pattern and/or Logrus to tell anything more, and I'm happy to discuss it with her if she comes here, and brings really high-quality brandy with her." "Nil perspiration," Tanstaafl nodded. "Sorry that I couldn't be more help." Goran continued to regard the King thoughtfully, arms crossed and head cocked as if he was still trying to come up with a solution. "Tan..." he asked without shifting his gaze, "if the King's... 'balance'... has shifted as you say... and you don't have a Logrus master to increase the Logrus side, do you think it would serve the same purpose if you had a Pattern master to somehow... I don't know... turn down the Pattern side?" The fox scratched his ear again and thought on this. He shrugged his front shoulders. "I can't even color inside the lines so the Pattern is beyond me really. But, yeah… I guess that could work. Sort of like bleeding out a poison or something appropriately metaphorical that I can't think of at this moment. But do we have a Pattern master handy?" He turned his eyes on Morgan, "But more importantly, would you be willing to let them give it a go?" "Depends," Morgan answered. "I'd like to get Rissa's opinion on all this. She's one of the few people around here that I almost trust." "If Pattern caused this, won't that just make it worse? How can someone use the Pattern without...using the Pattern?" Coirann waved one hand vaguely, presumably to indicate 'things I don't understand.' Goran took a few steps back until he was leaning against the doorframe of the adjacent bathroom. He apparently had nothing more to add, because he simply crossed his arms and gazed at the floor. Merlin gave a groan - but it was a more natural sound, like somewhat lying awkwardly in bed. At which point the door opened, revealing Bleys, flanked on either side by Clytemnestra and Chadwick. His dark eyes swept the room, and then his hand shot out and the soft green leather gloved hand clenched into a fist, one finger pointing at the fennic. "We can lose the cutesy furball," he said. "And the wench. Family only. You - out." This to Coirann. "You - guard the door. From the outside." This to Goran - who he clearly recognised (Bleys was, of course, a regular on the Queen). "Chadwick - find your mother, and tell her that I'm on to this, and will be with her at the Council meeting in an hour's time. Cly, go and find Larissa. Use all human means to find her quickly. I want her here. Preferably twenty minutes ago. And you - tell me again what happened. What he said, how he looked." This last to Morgan. All this time, Bleys had not looked at Merlin. Even now he stood, a little inside the doorway, waiting for people to obey. "I'll get Larissa," Coirann volunteered, and slipped past Bleys into the hallway. Bleys's entrance had broken Goran's concentration and he looked up, his eyes widening for a moment at the sight of the familiar face. "Yes, Highness," he replied obediently as he walked toward the door, nodding for Tanstaafl to follow him. The fennec, however, would not be moved. Tanstaafl stared up at Bleys incredulously; his tail snapping from side to side like a bullwhip. "You know, for someone with his head stuck that far up his own ass, you annunciate your words very well. Must have taken years of training I'll bet." With frightening agility, the fennec hopped from the bed to the nightstand and then to floor beside Coirann. "Let's go, sweetheart. I get the feeling we're not wanted around anymore. Diddle me with a candlestick, you try to do some people a favor and what do you get?" Goran glowered at the creature as he followed the furry tail to the door. "Out, fox-cat," he said darkly. Tan ignored him. "'We're the family. Look at us… we're so happy and chummy and protective of one another.' Yeah, fine job you guys did on the docks, you bad-goatee-wearing-son-of…" the grumbled obscenities faded as he disappeared into the hallway, following in his beloved's footsteps. Once in the hallway, Goran closed the door behind him with a sharp snick.
After closing the door, Goran turned on Tanstaafl, only to find the obnoxious little hairball had already flounced up the hallway after Coirann. Not wishing to make a scene, Goran let him go, making a mental note to pound respect for royalty into him at a later date. Instead, he resumed his position against the wall and picked at his bloody sleeve. Goran was slightly annoyed at Prince Bleys's timing. He had thought his little experiment might have been working, but it had been too soon to tell when he was interrupted. Now he checked his arm to see whether the energy fluctuations had had an effect on the healing process. It was not so much healed ... it was not even healed. It was gone, as though a bullet had never struck him at all. When he looked up, he saw two of the Castle guard regarding him fixedly. "So, Sir," said the more senior (in age and, presumably, rank), "what might you be doing here outside the King's chambers?" "Following orders, sir," Goran stated crisply, drawing himself up to something approaching attention. "Prince Bleys and Captain Morgan both ordered me to stand guard here. No one is to enter the King's Quarters without their express permission." "Right," said the guard. "Well, we'll take over now. You can run back to wherever it is you came from with the grateful thanks of the Castle guard." The guard beside him sniggered slightly. Goran smiled tightly, but the smile did not extend to his eyes, which remained icy. "Well, sirs, you're certainly welcome to join me," he drawled. "However, my orders come from a higher authority, so I believe I'll remain here until such authority cancels them." "If you remain here," said the guard, "you'll do so under arrest, until your 'higher authority' vouches for you." Goran regarded him for a long moment. Then with a heavy sigh, he placed his wrists together in front of him, arms outstretched, moving lazily in front of the door as he did so. "Very well then. Do what you must. But I'm not leaving." The guard glared at him - quite obviously he had been expecting a tame surrender. Frustrated, he turned to his second, clearly prepared to give orders to restrain Goran - but the second (clearly not without cunning) said, "Couldn't we bind him not to run with his own word of honour? Until this is cleared up?" The senior guard opened his mouth to object - and then paused, obviously seeing the merits of the suggestion. "Well?" he said. "Will you give your word of honour not to run?" Goran quirked an amused eyebrow. "Sooo... you're going to make me swear on my honor as a... what? Security officer of the Ramblin' Queen? Not to do something that I had no intention of doing anyway." He smirked skeptically and muttered, "I think I've heard this in a skit somewhere before." The smirk widened and he shrugged, holding up his right hand. "All right, gentlemen. I swear on my honor that I shall not run from this door. I shall remain at this post until this matter is cleared up." He somehow managed to get through the oath with a straight face. At this point a vision of fair radiance entered the corridor and made her way towards Merlin's door. The guards snapped upright, perfect models of the military man, as Princess Flora approached. Clearly Chadwick had failed to find her. Goran too came to attention, all joking aside. "Highness," he addressed her with a respectful bow of his head. "Your brother Prince Bleys is in with the King. Please allow me the honor of announcing your arrival," he said formally, close enough to the door so that it could probably be heard inside. He placed his hand on the door pull, perhaps causing it to move as further warning. This also, of course, gave him control of the door in case Flora decided to barge past him. The guards made some faint protests at Goran's action. Flora silenced them with a Look. "Very well," she said to Goran. "You've heard by now about Johann's bang sticks and his boyfriend sticking it to him, right?" Morgan asked Bleys, as he left Merlin's bedside and walked over to the table. He uncorked the bottle. "By then there was a good fire going along the docks. Merl ran over to help calm the horses. Rissa did something, I'm not sure what, but those who were there seem to agree that it was Pattern work, probably to keep the fire from spreading. Merl was right next to her. He said something, I was too far away to hear what it was." He took a swig from the bottle and made a face. "Port shouldn't be rolled around on the floor," he complained. Then he took another swig. "Rissa didn't seem to hear him, she looked to be in a trance, or at least thinking really hard. Then Merl's arms jerked out, he spun around, and he fell over." Bleys's frowned. "Show me," he said. "Show me exactly how he moved." And behind them, the door closed as Cly left to follow Corianne and Tanstaafl. Morgan's frown matched Bleys'. "I wasn't paying close attention at first," he said. "I was still trying to watch for an attack from allies of Johann. But as I remember...." he raised one hand, much as though he was reaching for the reins of a horse, and then jerkily spund around in a circle three times, sloshing only a small amount of dark red port as he spun. "And then he collapsed," he concluded. "You'll pardon me if I don't duplicate that." Bleys nodded. "An ordinary collapse though?" he asked. "Not as though he'd fallen to a blow from something invisible?" For the first time, he moved to Merlin's bed and now began a rapid examination of the King, deftly checking various life signs with a competence that suggested he knew exactly what he was doing. Morgan shook his head. "Looked to me like he just collapsed." He thought for a moment, then added, "What it resembled more than anything else was someone who'd had there voluntary muscles taken over by an outside force, then had them all shut down. I've seen it happen to people with high-level cyber implants going up against someone with really good conutermeasure gear. Obviously not the case here, but that's the closest thing I can think of." Bleys nodded again, his expression yet more thoughtful. "Have you ever tried cyber implants?" he asked. "I did - a couple of times. They didn't ... take. In fact, one time the results were downright upleasant. Your generation - well, I suppose it might be possible. But unlikely." He straightened from the bed. "All the signs suggests he's asleep now - an exhausted sleep. I don't know about you - but I've done that to myself. Burnt myself out - hell, it's been amusing testing what it would take to push me that far. Slept twenty-four hours and risen up fresh as a daisy and looking for fun. Random used to do it about once a month - thirty days partying, one day sleeping. Said it worked for him. "Either Merlin's been burning the candle at both ends more than I realise - you'd be better placed to know that - or something that happened packed a punch like that. And what you said about the way he collapsed suggests the latter. "But for me ... the important question is what we're going to do about Payne - before Merlin wakes up." Morgan shrugged. "Tell me why I should care what happens to Payne," he said indifferently. Bleys laughed. "I can tell you more why you shouldn't," he said drily. "I warned him once to stay out of Amber - I won't risk my neck for him again. But it might make people breathe a little easier if he meets his end ... quickly." Morgan shrugged. "It's no concern of mine what he says under Mandor's interrogation," he says. "If you're worried about it, find another catspaw to take him out. I'm not risking my neck to protect the secrets of the rebels. I'm a neutral in all this, Uncle." He pointed towards Martin. "There's my closest blood relative. If he says he wants Johann dead, then I'll deal with it. But as long as he's not able to say anything, I'm staying right here." Bleys smiled. "So good to know where your loyalties lie. And they seem to sit so firmly with your own personal best interests, don't they? Tell me, Morgan do you ever look up from your brandy glass and look at the wider world? Or does that gaze extend no farther than whatever ladybird you're tupping at the time?" "Depends," Morgan answered, taking another sip of the port, and making a face once more. "Does she have a sister?" Bleys smile grew. "Indubitably. And a big brother with a sense of moral outrage and a shotgun." A sound came from the bed. "Morgan? Morg?" It was faint - but no fainter than on many mornings when Merlin had woken up with a killer hangover. "I'm here, Merl," Morgan said, turning to his cousin's bed. "Uncle Bleys is here, too." Merlin turned his head and tried to focus on him, blinking. "What ... happened? Got a ... pig of a headache." He closed his eyes again. "Dehydrated. Forgot to drink water." But Merlin had hardly been drunk enough to need to do that. The quiet of the room was broken by the sound of a muffled voice outside. From inside Morgan and Bleys could see the door quiver and open slightly. "Best let her in if she wants to come," said Bleys. "Otherwise you be sitting in the seat within nose range of the privies at the next five hour banquet." Without further delay, the door opened just enough for Goran to ease himself inside. "Highness?" he addressed Bleys. "Princess Flora has arrived and wishes to enter?" "I'll get you some water, Merl," Morgan said, turning back to the table to do so. He poured himself a glass of water as well. In the hallway, with his mother, was Chadwick. He paced the tile while Flora waited patiently. This had been a most confusing and confusing day. He paused and wondered if there was something in Haraden he could be attending to at the moment.
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