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Breakfast on Amber Docks: Crisis

Index | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | Breakfast on Amber Docks - Crisis

Seated on the top deck of the Ramblin' Queen, as most of the staff gathered below for their meeting, Vikund and Petra had a perfect grandstand view of what was developing.

Mandor was standing in the centre of the open dock, cool and poised, watching with a sardonic expression as Merlin and his friends approached. Ingrey had moved towards the Greasy Spoon to arrange a table, and Goran was carrying Mandor's cloak towards the carriage.

"Mandor," said Merlin easily. "I trust you had a pleasant time."

"Delightful," said Mandor. "I really must do this more often."

The sound of a carriage clattering into the square made them both turn their heads ... to see Clytemnestra and Larissa being rapidly drawn towards them in a high perch phaeton. It was to be hoped that Clytemnestra was a good enough whipster to draw them up in time, otherwise the King, Prime Minister and assorted members of the nobility would have to leap for safety.

Morgan smiled as he saw the ladies approaching.

Events had progressed to a point where he had to act, while there was still separation between Merlin and Mandor. The waiting stranger slipped the steel cleats onto his his boots, then drew his knife. With a quick slice, the rope connected to his creative addition to the chimney of the eatery gave way. A well-oiled pulley made only a single squeak of protest as the rope slid freely at last while a counterweight provided the necessary delay.

He scrambled back along the beam until he was above the hole he had cut in the roof on the north side of the building, facing the city. Tarpaper and shingles imported from shadow were all that held this section of roof in place, and he used them once again as a hinge.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen of the Greasy Spoon, the small ceramic canister of incendiary liquid had spilled forth into the fire. With a 'WOOF' noise which was faintly audible as far away as the Ramblin' Queen, the kitchen was quickly engulfed in a flash of flames. Finely atomized cooking oils had already been coated over every free surface of the kitchen, and suddenly all eyes on the dock were on the restaurant, from which a cloud of smoke poured forth.

Morgan glanced towards the sound of the distant fire, any eyebrow quirking up as he saw the smoke rising.

The fair-haired arsonist had already made his way from the back of the Greasy Spoon to neighboring rooftops in a series of quick hops. Although his face was concealed by a green and gold hankerchief tied over his face, and he was wearing a wide-brimmed hat white hat and white leather duster, there was only one man in Amber who this could be.

Johann got a running start on the roof, his cleats providing him additional traction as his legs pumped, and as he leapt onto the back of Mandor's carriage he drew both revolvers.

Morgan whirled as Johann leapt, took in the identity of the person in mid air and his hands moving to the pistols at his side as he landed on the carriage. Without hesitation he dove for Merlin, striving to take him to the ground, and, if possible, to put Clytemenstra and Larissa's carriage betwen Johann and Merlin.

Immediately after he had planted his feet on the roof, Amber's morning was graced by a sound which it had not heard in almost a hundred years. Staccado gunfire, as Johann opened fire with both barrels.

Vikund stood sharply, causing the crockery to dance on the table. "Damn his eyes!" He cursed, standing stiffly observing the scene play out below.

He seemed frozen in place, as if paralysed by a strange fascination with the unfolding chaos, too far away to really influence what was going on, but close enough to feel the acuteness of the danger.

Merlin had no time for more than a startled exclamation before Morgan slammed into him, knocking the pair of them to the ground. He struggled briefly and then, recognising the gunfire, was still - although he did remark, "I am going to be really irritated if you're killed, you know. You still owe me ten silvers."

Then he looked up at the carriage towering in front of them. "Rissa ... can probably look after herself. But we ought to try and grab Cly. She's a bit of a target up there."

Johann did not cease firing with his initial shots, but rather continued to fire with both pistols - and both were aimed at Mandor. Although the smell indicated this was no simple black powder concoction, they still produced a significant quantity of smoke.

Security was Goran's job. With Mandor's thick cloak still draped over his right arm, Goran raised it to shield his head and shoved Mandor with all his strength toward the edge of the pier. If the Prime Minister went overboard, all the better so long as he was out of the line of fire. In the process, Goran felt a familiar stab of pain in his left bicep. Cursing, he dropped and rolled for the cover of a coil of one of the Queen's huge docking lines.

And yet ... somehow ... something in his brain told him ... there was something wrong about the pain.

Petra cursed when one of her own went down. She had no way of knowing if he had been shot or was just being cautious. Without a word to Vikund, she turned and ran flat out over the distance to the end of the smaller upper deck and the wheelhouse.

Her momentum carried her in a slide inside the captain's domain and she winced when her side impacted with the dash. She yanked hard three times on the red cord that would raise the alarm for those inside. They needed to be ready for wounded. Time to see if her investment in Dawn's education was worth it.

On the topdeck, Vikund realised that, with just a little climbing down - and one leap - he could get himself onto the dockside fairly rapidly.

In the cabin, waiting for the meeting ...

"Oh wonderful," sighed Gino. "This morning, she chooses for a drill?"

But Aura's head had lifted like that of a hunting dog.

"It's no drill," she said shortly. "That's gunfire."

And then the staff of the Ramblin' Queen were swinging into well-honed action.

Ingrey had been shocked when the cafe went up into flames, and his instincts immediately had him turn to the status of Mandor. Seeing that Goran had more than effectively handled Mandor's care, Ingrey turned again at the sound of the gunshots and the movement of Johann to his position atop Mandor's carriage.

Coldly and calmly, Ingrey took a couple of steps forward, putting himself between the carriage and where he had last seen Goran push Mandor. He narrowed his eyes and gave Johann a look of severe disapproval, and raised his hands.

The carriage began to rock, slightly - and then a little more.

Chadwick had no way of knowing that the sharp crack through the air was dangerous, nor that a projectile weapon might make a sound other than 'twang'. Still, the scene was not still when he understood one thing: Merlin was in danger.

It was then that he decided to jump into action.

And he started to run towards Johann and his guns.

For her part, Cly pulled the horses to a stop as well as she could - she had started, anyway, when she saw who she was about to run into - and plucked at Larissa's arm. "The horses will bolt!" she yelled, ready to jump off the driver's side and take her passenger along.

And already the horses were starting to plunge dangerously; the risk was that they would overset the carriage - it took all Cly's skill to hold them.

Merlin swore.

"I'll get Cly - you stop Chad," he growled to Morgan.

Larissa, who had started at the sound of shots, and then coolly watched the proceedings, now jumped down from her side of the carriage, strode to the front where the horses were panicking, and grabbed both of their bridles, preventing them from bolting.

"Fools," she spat. One had the feeling she wasn't talking about the horses.

But something else was happening. Mandor was rising slowly to his feet, his face stark white, his eyes suddenly oddly dark and unfathomably. He seemed uninjured ... Slowly he moved, so Ingrey was no longer between him and Johann.

The carriage was rocking more violently now ...

Johann ceased firing, and shoved the pistols back into his holsters as he unclamped himself from the cleats with a lifting and twisting motion of each foot. He considered cursing his tools, or their maker, or calling out asking the Unicorn why his accomplice was always late.

He sprang down from the carriage, drawing his wicked Bowie knife - his gaze still fixed on Mandor who ... did nothing but stand, calm, impassive. Waiting.

And the the door of the rocking carriage opened ... and an avalanche of black silk and lace presaged Damien's arrival on the scene. He held a wavy watered steel knife in one hand which dripped a shiny clear fluid that might have been some kind of honing oil-- or something more sinister.

Ingrey lowered his hands, and the rocking of the carriage, in response, ceased immediately, the vehicle settling back onto its wheels.

He then focused his gaze on Johann, and Damien as well, and regarded them with the same look of disapprobation he had used earlier.

"Johann. Don't do this." Ingrey said in a deadly serious tone of voice. "You can't possibly hope to win, even if all others here stand aside and do nothing."

Petra slid to a stop back beside Vikund and her eyes on the scene below. She cursed under her breath when Damien appeared, and fretted silently about her people on the docks.

"Guns.... we had no reason to expect guns. Damn him and his boyfriend."

She turned to Vikund eyeing the railing. "I wish you wouldn't."

Vikund shrugged. "Sorry, duty calls."

He blew her a kiss and was over the rail in the blink of an eye.

The men in her life vexed her like nothing else. She leaned over the rail, but knew better then to follow.

"Ottenere almeno un'arma da sicurezza, voi pensatomeno bastardo!" she yelled angrily. She gripped the wood under her hand in a white knuckled hold and turned her attention back to the fray and muttering furiously under her breath.

"Poichč i dii testimoniano il, il mio amante seguente č un poet. Un poet femminile." Petra bit her lip, and added. "Fortuna, va con lui."

From where Petra was standing, she had an excellent view of the wide range of the docks - and the fire that was blazing merrily in the Greasy Spoon. There was a real danger that it could run along the row of warehouses with their highly inflammable cargoes - it could reach to the ships themselves.

Meanwhile, Vikund raced along the dock to where Vincenzo was standing, manoeuring to protect Petra, the Queen and the last of the departing guests. His crossbow was in his hands - but Vikund laid a hand on it. For a moment the two of them were face to face, unyielding ... and then Vincenzo gave a nod.

"Take this too," he said, reaching inside his jacket. "The bolts ... there are three more ... if you need ... "

'This' proved to be a small stopped bottle containing an oily green liquid.

From his point on the dock, Goran heard Petra's angry fuming, but he could not spare a look upward. Knowing Vincenzo would have the crossbows at the ready by now, Goran kept low, dashing from rope coil to cargo box to tackle case as those in the fray were distracted.

From above and behind, Petra caught sight of him moving. His left arm was bloody, but the wound did not appear to be hindering his movement much. From what she could tell, his goal appeared to be to flank the offender.

Once behind a ticket shack, which was fortunately closed at this early hour, Goran paused, evaluating the new potential threat that had just stepped from the carriage.

He saw how Johann moved almost instinctively, allowing Damien space to manouvre so that they could tackle all comers together - or perhaps so that Damien could watch Johann's back while the younger man carried through his plan to assasinate the Prime Miniter - and perhaps the King.

But then Goran realised that Damien was indeed watching Johann's back - literally, and not metaphorically. Unless Johann, who was looking nervously this way and that, as though to judge where the next attack would come from, Damien was wholly concentrated - almost fixated on Johann.

Morgan ran towards Chadwick, trying to intercept him before he drew Johann's or Damien's notice, and leapt at him. His intent was to hit Chadwick mid body, carry him on out of the line of fire between Mandor, Johann and Damian, without being hit by gunfire, sorcery, or poisoned knives. He succeeded - and they both crashed down onto the hard cobbles with Morgan - for the second time, landing on top.

Of cause, by now they were considerably closer to Johann, and Morgan was aware that he was making an even better target ...

The fire was starting to spread, even as Petra had feared ... and now she had to choose whether to send her people out with weapons - or to have as many as possible start the manual pumps, and prepare to dowse any fires that might start.

Even as she watched, a scrap of burning lint from some warehouse began to drift across, still flaming, towards the canvas awning over the poop deck ...

Larissa, who had started at the sound of shots, and then coolly watched the proceedings, now jumped down from her side of the carriage, strode to the front where the horses were panicking, and grabbed both of their bridles, preventing them from bolting.

"Fools," she spat. One had the feeling she wasn't talking about the horses.

Cly leapt nimbly from the driver's seat, once she saw Larissa was off and clear. Landing on that side, and on the flank of both Johann and Damien, she froze at the sight of them facing Mandor. Looking back and forth between all of them, her hand moved to her bodice.

The horses were not as easy to hold as Larissa had imagined. They did not like explosions going off in their vicinity, and they had a positive horror of fire. She might have the strength to hold them; she lacked the experience to calm them in such a perilous situation as this.

"Rissa!" It was Merlin's voice, and suddenly he was beside her. "I'll hold them. You ... rip up your skirt. Blindfold them. Trust me - it'll calm them." He gave a sudden grin. "It might excite me, of course. Risk you'll have to take."

Yet despite the light words, there was a focus and intensity to Merlin that Larissa had never heard before.

Clytemnestra, on her side of the carriage was - like Goran by the shacks, Ingrey in open space and Morgan and Chadwick, sprawled on the ground, in an excellent position to see what happened next.

Mandor had not moved, but Damien had ..

He seemed almost to slip forward with the speed and smoothness of a serpent. Johann was saying something, a half-smile on his face ... when suddenly his eyes widened. He staggered, sliding as though the cobbles were suddenly coated in glass, or ice.

It was one of those moments when sound seems to cease - or perhaps it was simply that Damien raised his voice ...

"No cause is more important than a man's heart, Johann. You -never- should have put your ideals before -me-," Damien said, a cruel smile on his lips as he wiped Johann's blood from his fingertips with a perfumed hankerchief and kicked his Bowie knife towards Ingrey's feet.

Ingrey lifted his shod foot at the approach of the skittering bowie knife. He let it reach a point beneath his heel and then let it descend, stopping its motion. The Minister-Counselor bent and picked up the knife by the hilt and held it as he looked up at Damien, Mandor, and Johann.

Johann was still conscious, barely, as Damien placed the tip of his wavy rapier on Johann's clavicle. The fight had gone out of him completely, and the look in his eyes was one of fear and betrayal. He had heard Damien's explanation, but still his lips mouthed 'why... why' underneath his mask.

"He deserved and deserves better." Ingrey said with utter coldness, addressing both victorious men. "Might I suggest, however, that if the fire is not dealt with, the fall of Johann will be more remembered as the day Amber is turned into a pyre."

"He has attempted to assassinate the Prime Minister," said Mandor. "Even in Shadows that hold the most humane of laws, that is generally held to warrant death. In the eyes of the law, of course. It's undeniably true that in most democracies, if the head of state were to be run down by a bus, the majority of citizens would vote for the bus driver.

"Amber, however, is not a democracy."

Morgan watched all this from a prone position as he pushed Chadwick away, interposing more of his body between Chadwick and the fray. Then he glanced over at the roar of flames. "All right, Chaddie," he said. He turned his head back to the combat, but contined to talk to Chadwick without looking at him. "You worry about people, right? That fire is going to kill hundreds if it isn't put under control, and destroy the homes and livelihoods of thousands more. Can I count on you to organize the fire-fighting? Good lad!"

Chadwick looked up to where the fire had started on the Queen, and started to take the city. He gave a crisp nod to Morgan... aware that the drama between Mandor and Johann was over, and Merlin seemed safe.

Now he had to fight a fire... this had never happened in Harraden. Still, he knew the basics... he hoped it would be enough.

And off he went ...

"Rissa!" It was Merlin's voice, and suddenly he was beside her. "I'll hold them. You ... rip up your skirt. Blindfold them. Trust me - it'll calm them." He gave a sudden grin. "It might excite me, of course. Risk you'll have to take."

Yet despite the light words, there was a focus and intensity to Merlin that Larissa had never heard before.

She spared him only a sidelong glance, partly annoyed, but mostly bemused. "I rather think not." Her eyes grew glassy for a moment, and the horses suddenly calmed beneath her hands.

"I'll keep the fire contained," she told Merlin, turning from the now-docile horses to the burning restaurant, "but someone else will have to put it out." The Sign of the Pattern was almost a tangible thing in the air about her as she shut her eyes and concentrated.

"Rissa - no!"

It was a shout from Merlin - although he was standing merely inches from her.

"Don't ... for pity ... I can't ... "

Vikund continued his progress towards the dock, taking up a position behind the cover of the coils of rope where he could still see the scene that played out between Damien, Johann and the others. He watched Johann's hands carefully, expecting some gesture of rage or defiance, while training the crossbow on a point just above his breastbone. He was curious about the vial of green liquid, but that could wait for now.

It seemed that Johann was losing consciousness - his movements slowed, and then ceaesd. Mandor turned his head and gave a nod of acknowledgement, as though he had expected Vikund would be there all along.

Petra appeared suddenly beside Vincenzo and did a double take at the scene on the docks.

"Dirmi pių successivamente. Abbiamo fuochi."

And with that she was off running again to to help man the hoses.

From his position behind the shack, Goran was startled by the sudden turn of events. He opened his knife and kept it at the ready as he watched Damien turn on his accomplice. But he did not interfere. "F**king revolutionaries," he muttered under his breath as retraced his steps back toward the Queen.

With the immediate threat subdued, the young security officer turned his attention back to his ship. He sprinted up the gangplank and began rousting the remaining guests out of their cover and off the ship. His arm, which should have been useless after being shot, was only a bit stiff and slightly sore. He would have to figure out that puzzle later.

Petra's staff were working well and smoothly to defend the Queen - and two neighbouring ships, for that matter. It was Ramon who called out first.

"Look - the flames are dying down!!

And it seemed to be true. The flames were indeed dying down more rapidly than might have been expected - unless there was really something in the somewhat eccentric placement of buckets that Chadwick was commanding - or some other power was at work.

Chadwick, as became shortly obvious, was not used to commanding others. Still, the buckets had begun, a handful of cityfolk running from the harbor and back. Others were rousting some from their dockside trades to aid in keeping the fire from depriving them of livelihood. At some point a very serious Chadwick was seen jumping from the window of one building to the balcony of another, trying to outpace the spread of the fire.

And as the fire was dying down for no other logical or apparent reason - the townspeople, believing he must be responsible, were beginning to call out admiringly to Chadwick. There seemed every chance that Flora's son would be regarded by them as the Hero of the Hour.

Petra's staff were working well and smoothly to defend the Queen - and two neighbouring ships, for that matter. It was Ramon who called out first.

"Look - the flames are dying down!!

Petra's head snapped around to the direction Ramon's voice came from. Her eyes narrrowed at the dwindling flames and she snorted. "Sorcerers."

And it seemed to be true. The flames were indeed dying down more rapidly than might have been expected - unless there was really something in the somewhat eccentric placement of buckets that Chadwick was commanding - or some other power was at work.

Chadwick, as became shortly obvious, was not used to commanding others. Still, the buckets had begun, a handful of cityfolk running from the harbor and back. Others were rousting some from their dockside trades to aid in keeping the fire from depriving them of livelihood. At some point a very serious Chadwick was seen jumping from the window of one building to the balcony of another, trying to outpace the spread of the fire.

And as the fire was dying down for no other logical or apparent reason - the townspeople, believing he must be responsible, were beginning to call out admiringly to Chadwick. There seemed every chance that Flora's son would be regarded by them as the Hero of the Hour.

Morgan had risen to his feet and walked casually towards Johann, occasionally glancing over at Chadwick's efforts. He looked please with himself, and chuckled.

Petra's staff - or at least the majority of them - now looked to her for further instruction.

Petra shrugged at Antonia who was giving her Annoyed Scowl Number 132.. "Hose down this side of the ship. Better safe the sorry, si? Do not look at me like that. This was not *my* idea of a lovely way to start the day, and I promise you, my mood is much, much worse then yours."

She ended with an arched eyebrow at the other women, and received a snort for her troubles, but Antonia turned to make sure things got done.

Petra looked around for someone else and waved at her cardshark. "Gino, go tell Sergio to cut the pumps in about 15 minutes unless he hears different from Antonia."

Gino went below, Petra returned to Vincenzo's position, still casting wary eyes towards the docks.

Goran had succeeded in clearing the last of the guests from the Queen and now had escorted them to the relative safety of their carriages, directing the coachmen (who needed little urging) to take the routes furthest from the fire. It placed him into a prime position to see what was happening with those Royals left on the dock.

Cly stood, moving a little unsteadily on her own, looked at Mandor until he noticed, then turned her attention away and to the pair of attackers.

"How positively barbaric," she said.

"Indeed," said Mandor, fastidiously, flicking a scrap of lint from his black sleeve. "And now, doubtless, we shall be put to all the palaver of a show trial and a public execution, unless he attempts to escape on the way to the Castle dungeons and is killed."

"Vikund ... Morgan ... see that he's taken there, will you? Damien, you can ride with me. Clytemnestra, do you feel able to drive back to the Castle? Perhaps you could take uyoung Chadwick up behind. I must still escort the Counsellor to his Embassy. And a Council in a hour's time, I feel, will be appropriate. I'm sure even the King will agree to tha .. "

Morgan bent down and started to turn Johann over, a small length of rope in his hands.

From the way he flopped over, he was either genuinely unconscious or faking it very well. Johann clearly had a number of curious surprises under his duster, as well as some light body armor. He would need to be searched when circumstances permitted. After Morgan rolled him onto his stomach, he saw the wound which Damien's kris had made. The blade had slipped between the plates of his concealed armor and made a diagonal incision into the external obliques. It was bleeding now that he'd been rolled over, but not heavily. Damien's knife was on the ground near where Johann had fallen.

He had turned towards Merlin as he spoke - and for the first time, his voice had lost its cool, urbane tone.

Morgan looked up at the sudden change in Mandor's tone, then glanced in Merlin's direction.

Ingrey furrowed his eyebrows at Mandor's change of tenor but didn't turn at his glance, keeping his attention for the moment forward.

Still standing next to Larissa, Merlin's face was suddenly fixed in a glare - as though all the muscles had been frozen in place. His hand unclenched and he released the horses's reins, but his arm and hand remained locked rigidly in the position they had held before. And, stiff as he was, he turned abruptly, jerkily ... a circle .... three times.

The last time he faced her, Larissa saw his eyes were glowing and red - as though two rubies were burning in his head. Then he collapsed on the ground, as limp as any rag doll.

"Merl!" Morgan shouted, dropping Johann and racing to his cousin's side.

Ingrey turned on his heel to see the sight of the stricken Monarch. He murmured something under his breath, inaudible to everyone.

Larissa was standing still beside him, her eyes closed. She seemed to be immensely concentrated, intently focused ... and Morgan was aware of a disturbing sense of power emanating from her as he approached. Merlin, it appeared, was close enough to have received that full force.

And Ingrey, too, felt it now as he turned to look at Merlin ...

Ingrey did not quite fall to his knees, but he swayed on his feet and held a hand to his temple. Ingrey closed his eyes briefly, trying to will it to pass.

Damien glanced in the direction Mandor was staring, and his eyes widened perceptively. He spiked his rapier into the deck beside Johann's head and said, as he reached a hand up his sleeve, "Vikund, please continue to be your charming self and cover Johann?"

"Certainly," Vikund replied, not looking up from what he was doing.

Having found what he searched for, a sealed metal tin, he cracked the lid and swiftly glided across the distance to Larissa. Those nearby could catch the sweet scent of ether from the rag he had produced from the now-discarded tin. Damien attempted to press this soporific over her nose and mouth, all the while mindful that she might violently object.

And she did indeed. Seemingly without pausing, her fist whipped up and connected with his jaw with sufficient force to staggering backwards, while the accompanying mental blow knocked him off his feet.

But the scent of the soporific had come close enough to distract her for long enouugh to make her open her eyes - and see Merlin stretched out on the quay, with Morgan crouched over him.

<<Oh, shit>>, Larissa said in Tradespeak. "What happened?" Her voice was strained as she split her concentration.

Near Vincenzo, Petra halted and gave her tired mind a moment to process what she just saw. She heard Vincenzo inhale sharply beside her, and Petra said the first thing that came to mind as Angelo's rapier clattered to the deck.

"Oh.... merda."

"Should you escort Dawn to the King?" asked Vincenzo. "She might be able to help ... "

Petra's first response was a strangled sound in the back of her throat. Then she shook herself out of her surprise and looked up at Vincenzo.

"No. I don't think so. Goran will let us know if he thinks she can assist, but the physiology of a Chaos Lord is not something she has a lot of expereince with. Mandor will know better what he needs then Dawn will."

"But you should get some people to break up that crowd. Ramon and Portia are still watching Payne and the making sure the fire's out down there."

Then she looked back at the scene. "Still, I think I will go offer." Before Vincenzo could object, or stop her, she was strolling down the gangplank. Behind her, she could hear Vincenzo barking orders to security to break up the gawkers.

Vikund lowered his crossbow approached Johann. If he showed any concern for Merlin's condition he concealed it well. He kneeled by the fallen man's side and made a quick examination. Deciding Johann wasn't going to die from his bleeding wound, Vikund set about the task of stripping off his outer garments, cutting the straps of his armour with a knife and bundling the items in a pile next to him. Once he'd done enough to get at the wound properly, he began binding it as best he could with what material was available.

The wound was not liable to prove fatal, but mixed with the blood that was oozing from the wound was a strange, evil-smelling ichor.

Vikund didn't recognise it. The smell seemed somewhat reminescent of a drug from a plant that grew in Eregnor (and whose sale was most stringently forbidden in both Kashfa and Begma - it was one of the few issues on which the two countries could agree).

Mandor glanced over as Vikund was removing the clothing.

"Let me know what you find," he said curtly. "It might be of interest later."

"Yes, Prime Minister," Vikund answered, beginning to stuff things into an empty sack he appeared to have found on Johann's person.

After the last guest carriage had departed, Goran reviewed the situation. The fires on shore appeared to be under control. He could see no more smoke coming from the roof of the Queen. Both Johann and Merlin were down; how bad their injuries were, he could not tell. Neither of them seemed to be about to rise anytime soon, though. At the risk of being seen as a Chaosian sympathizer, Goran moved to the King's side. Merlin was, after all, a frequent guest of the Ramblin' Queen.

"Do you need anything?" Goran asked Morgan. "Is there something I can do to help?"

"Would someone be so good as to get me and our guest a carriage?" Vikund said, glancing towards the staff of the Queen.

Ramon was nearby, still keeping a wary eye on Johann's person, just in case the rebel had been faking his state of consciousness. He gave Vikund a nod and signaled to one of the nearby stable valets to being a carriage.

"While you're at it, can you see if I can borrow Dawn for a few minutes? I'd like this man sedated. Heavily," Vikund asked.

Ramon glanced at Johann without pity and then leaned down to speak lowly to Vikund's ear only. "Pity you did not shoot him then, my friend."

Vikund twitched a smile, but said no more.

But Ramon signaled to Portia and went himself to collect Dawn and her wicked needles.

Cly moved closer, too, ostensibly to take the reins of the horses and move them out of the way. She looked intently at Merlin, then at Larissa... hesitated, as if making a very tough decision... stretched out her hand, flexing her fingers... then suddenly turned to pull the horses back, calming them. It was as if her very touch made them calm and docile.

She didn't bother to look back at Merlin. She merely glanced at her father... and smiled.

Mandor looked at her for a moment, unsmiling.

"Take care of your Cousin Larissa," he said. And then he turned away and walked to Morgan and Merlin, who had been joined by Goran.

Cly's eyes turned downward. "Yes, Father," she replied, demure, and took Larissa's arm. "Larissa?" she called, first trying to gently shake her to disrupt her concentration, before going any further.

Larissa twitched, but unlike Damien, Clytemnestra didn't catch a punch to the jaw. "*What*, Cly?"

There was always Chadwick, of course. And it had been Clytemnestra's mission to rescue him in the first place.

Chadwick, having rallied the citizenry to create a bucket brigade and having rousted the sleeping and aided the infirm, approached those still on the docks. Soot stained his shirt, and he had the look of someone who'd spent too much time near open flame, but his grin was wide and his arms akimbo.

"We could arrange some civic aid for rebuilding," he said with a smile. "Perhaps build a temporary shelter for those that have been displaced, with some meals offered?"

They were cheering and applauding him, slapping him on the back.

Only slowly did they fall silent as they realised that affairs of great moment were happening on the quayside.

By now, Morgan had turned (Merlin) over. Merlin's eyes were fixed and glassy, but he was not dead. His breath was coming raggedly, in pants and gasps, and under it, somewhere at the back of his throat, he was making a thin high whining, like a sustained note of pain.

Mandor glanced around and saw the crowd beginning to take notice - and the proximity of Ingrey.

"Get him into a carriage," he said to Morgan and Goran in an undertone. "Behave as though he's had too much to drink - it wouldn't be the first time he's collapsed in public. Do it now - I'll meet you back at the Castle."

Mandor turned and walked back to Vikund. "Take care of that," he said, with a gesture towards Johann. "A secure place ... for the moment. Gagged and blindfolded. And chained. Whatever restrainsts you believe necessary - until we can question him. Have Damien help you. He knows his strengths - and his weaknesses."

Vikund glanced at Damien and nodded, beginning to work on dressing Johann's wound.

Damien dusted himself off from where he had landed after his attempt at interruption of Larissa, and gingerly worked his jaw. Apparently satisfied with its fuctioning, he strode up to where Vikund was working and took Johann's pulse.

"He will remain unconscious for about an hour, and weak for several hours after that," Damien said as he tossed his balled handkerchief towards the water, then retrieved and sheathed his blades.

But even as he was speaking, Ramon was returning with Dawn and her medicine bag, (seeing the way things were going, she had taken the precaution of grabbing it).

The distinctive dark-haired figure of the Ramblin' Queen's Amber representative and physician strode out onto the gangplank, her high leather boots making a "clack-clack-clack" as she made her way onto dry land. She offered Vikund a bright smile, though she looked a little tired after a long night. Arranging her heavy skirts of Indian Sunset, and dropping her heavy doctor's bag as she knelt by his side, they immediately began to talk in low voices. Unpacking a roll of brass instruments that looked as if they were stolen from Dr. Frankenstein's laboratory, she nodded sagely and began preparing a set of syringes.

She knelt to examine Johann, and her words confirmed what Damien had said.

"We could increase the dosage if you think it advisable," she added, looking from one to the other. "And if you can tell me what he's had already."

Then Mandor was striding forward to Ingrey.

Petra approached the Prime Minister and Ingrey, casting a concerned look at the fallen monarch.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," she said lowly and turned to Mandor. "We have a physician onboard, and we are closer then the castle."

Ingrey from where he stood said nothing, giving a nod of acquiescence to Mandor, but giving Petra a slight look of appreciation for the proferred offer.

"Thank you," said Mandor, "but I am really quite unconcerned about the health of the would-be assassin, and the King is merely slightly indisposed after too pleasurable an evening on your excellent establishment."

His parti-coloured eyes met hers.

"But I think you might wish to hold yourself available for questioning," he added softly. "You might be of ... service in this matter."

She arched a surprised eyebrow. "Certainly. I have a staff meeting to get through, but I am at your disposal, of course. I'll await your call."

Petra gave a nod to Ingrey and Mandor and returned to the calmness of her ship, much to Vincenzo's obvious relief.

"Unfortunate," Mandor said to the Chaosian. "But hardly unprecedented. A touch of Pattern - and rather a lot of alcohol. Not the best thing for his Majesty so early in the morning. Still, he will make a speedy recovery." He sounded as relaxed and urbane as ever.

"I was not unaffected myself by the emanation." Ingrey agreed.

"Indeed," said Mandor. "I felt a slight frisson myself. And the King, not being abstemious, was affected worse than either of us. But he will recover soon." He spoke with calm confidence, as though nothing unusual had happened.

"Come on, Merl," Morgan's voice was slurred as he stood, pulling the king up with him. He turned and walked in a not-quite straight line towards the nearest carriage. "Ha! I told you I'd outdrink you! You should know betta than to shallenge the undishpu.. undishipu... eh..." He hiccuped loudly.

"Undisputed," Goran muttered under his breath as he covered their backs.

"The fella what everyone knows is besht! Tha's Dread Morgan, Scourger a' the Ramblin' Queen and ev'ry bar in Amber!"

"Get us to the Castle" he hissed to Goran.

Then he lifted the king into the carriage with one arm, and climbed in after him.

Merlin half lolled on the carriage seat. Without Morgan's arm to steady him, there was a danger he might just fall to the floor.

Goran looked up at the horses, then over at the carriage's empty driver's seat. Then back at the horses. Grumbling something that was probably a foreign-language curse, he climbed onto the seat and gingerly took the reins. He could drive horses if necessary, but generally prefered horsepower to the real thing.

Ingrey glanced at the departing carriage and gave it a nod.

"Shall we go, Counsellor?" said Mandor urbanely, indicating his own - now empty - carriage.

Page last modified on April 08, 2007, at 02:05 PM