Coming to Amber: JurtIt was early in the morning that the message was delivered to Jurt's room - the room which had once been Prince Corwin's. His half-brother Mandor 'invited' Jurt to take tea with him. Jurt tidied some notes at the desk that he had repositioned near the window for the light. The Regent must've written half the drivel on these shelves in candlelight and near darkness. No wonder he dressed in the colors of night and moonlight. As quick appraisal in the full length mirror next to the door and Jurt was quickly on his way. The Ocean Room was two floors down and if Jurt used the public ways almost a ten minute walk that included three separate sets of stairs. As soon as he cleared the Family Wing he chose a servant's entrance that moved him through the more heavily traveled passage. Many of the staff had their eyes downcast and didn't recognize him until he was already passing. Most had learned not to be surprised by his presence. Two lefts and the second right had brought him to the rear of the musician's gallery of the great hall. The guards, always on duty there, regarded him as he padded down the spiral staircase to the noble's balcony and out the doors, which brought him to the stairs just below the Ocean Room in but half the time. He straightened his pinked and slashed silver doublet over the black silk shirt and ensured the silver knotwork on his black trousers was straight before proceeding up the stairs with all due decorum. When he arrived at the door, he rapped three times precisely. The door opened silently. Inside, Manor was sitting - not behind his desk but at a low table spread before the window. "There will be tea," he said to Jurt. "There will be eclairs. There will be a visitor. And there will be a mission for you both." He gestured to Jurt to sit down. "I trust you will find it pleasant." "Of course," Jurt answered as he entered and took a seat. "Eclairs often have that effect. In quiet moments under the protective blanket of night I sometimes wonder if we might not have had to fight a war had the Houses better pastry chefs." Perhaps a shapeshifter's skill is necessary to deliver such a line with a straight face, that or Flora's sensibilities, but he does accomplish it. "Might I inquire to the identity of the visitor?" the younger brother asked, steepling his fingers before him. "The Baronness Solitaire Helgram," said Mandor. "A Chaosian innocent in Amber, with power infinitely beyond her years. It's time she learned more of Chaos than it's name. But that's not your mission." He was silent for a ,oment, watching his younger brother thoughtfully. "Merlin needs amusement," he said finally. "And she fits the need?" Jurt asked with a smile. "I had thought that with his drinking cronies that he normally made his own amusements." "His appetite is jaded," said Mandor. "I think he might find innocence ... piquant. We'll see. "She's not the only young woman you'll be escorting. There's Amba of House Heldt - something of an enigma. But, I understand, powerful. She might ... stretch Merlin a little in other ways. And there's a third. "My daughter, Helena." "I was going to suggest something about lambs to the slaughter, but it seems awkward now," Jurt says in obvious surprise. He gets up and walks toward the window that looks out upon the City and the ocean beyond. "Do we have a particular plan for the day? Theater? Musicians? Something of the like? One only assumes that you'll be handling any other administrative issues that arise... to give our brother the time he needs to amuse himself." "I realize that none of the above in and of themselves would keep his interest, but even the most lovely portraits have frames." "Indeed," said Mandor, "and perhaps I can rely on you to supply that ... once they have arrived." At this point there was a knock on the door, and in answer to Mandor's reply, the door opened and a footman announced, "The Baronness Solitare Helgram!" "Ah," said Mandor, " come in, Tear. We have been depending on you to pour tea. And you've brought little Tanstaafl with you. Good. Have you met my brother before, Tear? And have you met my pupil, Jurt?" There was something that gleamed in his eyes as he surveyed the two of them together - perhaps amusement, perhaps speculation. Tear stood in the door, her hands knitted in front of her. Her luminous, violet eyes gazed out from beneath her hat, a timid smile on her thin lips. She lifted a hand and gave a weak wave. "Hello." Tanstaafl glanced up at Jurt and gave him an appraising sniff. "Greetings and salutations," he said. "You have food, I hope." She cast him a glare and then walked over to them. "I'm sorry I'm late. I. Didn't get the message. Until I got to my uncle's." By then she noticed the gleam in her Master's eye and raised eyebrow. Had she said something funny? Jurt smiles and takes Tear's hand gently in his raising it to his lips with a smooth bow. "I believe this is a first, brother," he answers when he stands straight again. "Although I have seen her about the Castle. Who could not notice?" Or, more importantly, who else had noticed? But Helena, it didn't fit. Tear's cheeks turned eight shades of crimson as her hand was kissed. "Oh. Well. Thank you. Pleased to finally meet you, Master Jurt." She blinked a few times as Jurt spoke. Was he complimenting her? She worried her lip as she thought it through and then shrugged it off. "Thank you again," she added, hoping that would be appropriate either way. With her hand still in his, he ushers her to one of the seats. Once she's settled, he turns his attention back to Tanstaafl. "Lord Mandor's promised tea, so one can only assume that there will be some sort of cakes." Tear nearly floated as she was led over to her chair. Attention such as this was decidedly rare and she'd never grown accustomed to it. Tanstaafl, more wised in the ways of attention, took it in stride and paused only long enough to have his leash removed before hopping up onto a chair. Much to his credit, he did not place his paws on the table. "Cakes?" he said, his ears snapping forward. He quickly turned up his muzzle, apparently unmoved by this pronouncement. "Well, yes. That will be acceptable, I suppose." "More than cakes," said Mandor. "Eclairs. Tear will doubtless serve you - when she has poured orchid tea for us all. After all, you will all need fortifying for your journey." "How could I have forgotten the eclairs?" Jurt chided himself as he took a seat again. 'Elairs' is all Tanstaafl heard. The rest was inconsequential to the ball of hungry fur. Tear, however, gasped audibly; stiffening in her chair. "A journey?" she asked. "But I..." Tanstaafl interrupted her, "More tea, less talk!" Clearly the amount of time between the service of tea and him being provided éclairs needed to dealt with before more trivial matters. She sighed weakly and got up to pour the tea. A steady hand prevented her from spilling, but only just. Her eyes sought out Mandor's praying he would explain the meaning of his words. He couldn't possibly have meant her! Mandor took his tea and sipped. "There are three young ladies," he said, "who will be visiting Amber. Simple enough, of course, to trump them through. But I think it would be kinder if they were to learn something of Amber before they arrive here. And that is where you two will come in." "Me?" Tear said incredulously. "But. I." She set the teapot down; a little too hard, spilling a little from the spout. After dabbing it up hastily, she retreated to her chair. Her lips worked silently, trying to form words that hadn't even taken shape in her befuddled brain yet. Instead of speaking she decided to feed Tanstaafl to steady her nerves. He took another sip of tea. "And Tanstaafl, of course," he added. "Unless you want to leave him for Larissa to stuff with eclairs and bonbons." Even in the middle of eating an éclair, Tanstaafl glanced up at the promise of more sweets. He licked the cream from his muzzle, "Well, yes. Most prudent. I'd just get under foot. I always knew you were the smart one. Very solid plan indeed!" Tear, still too stunned to think things through, gave Mandor a faint nod. "Yes. Maybe. Him underfoot. Not good. He can stay." Tanstaafl positively shone with contentment. "House Heldt and... Sawall," Jurt said before a bite of eclair. He washed it down with his tea before continuing. "We're headed to the Courts. That explains much," he muttered to no one in particular before the smile regained his face. "Have you ever been, Tear?" Violet eyes locked on Jurt, wide with growing panic. Fortunately, something about his smile calmed her enough to form a coherent sentence. "No," she said. "I've never been." She picked up her tea and sipped it. "I haven't left Amber. Ever. Not even to Rebma. The Courts?" Her gaze went to Mandor. "But how will I get back? I can't... you haven't taught me that yet. And why me? I'm... no one." "I will give you a trump of me," said Mandor. "Jurt will have one too - and he will show you how to use it. "But who better than you, my sweet Tear, to explain to this young ladies the challenges they will face in Amber?" Tear wrinkled her nose. "But. Me?" She sighed weakly and picked up her tea. With luck, the sweetness of the orchids would calm her nerves. She cast a glance over at her furred companion. If he'd recognized her trepidation, it was lost beneath the smacking of his lips. She sunk further into her chair, wondering if this was a bad dream. He glanced at Jurt. "I believe our brother is hosting a dinner party around now in his Ways. And both of you are invited." Jurt produced a small packet from within his doublet and removes a Trump of Despil after a moment of shuffling. "At least I'm not the last brother to find out," he chuckled. "Please, finish your tea while I work on our travel arrangements," Jurt said with natural aplomb. He began to concentrate on Despil's clear eyes and youthful brow, willing the Trump to move. Tear managed a smile, "Okay." But it really was the farthest thing from 'okay.' She straightened up and set her cup down. "Master Mandor," she said, struggling to keep her voice from wavering. "How long will I be gone? I'm not dressed for a... a party. I've never even really been to a party before." She blushed brightly, glancing down at the table. "Shouldn't you send someone more... socially skilled?" Jurt offered mock disappointment at Solitaire's appraisal of his skills, but a smile crept into the corner of his mouth none the less. Tear was too flustered to realize Jurt's disappointment was play-acting. Her eyes widened and she reached over for his hand, "Oh! No, no. I didn't mean you. Oh Please, forgive me. I meant me. I. No. Skill whatsoever." She slumped back into the chair and threw up her hands in exasperation. "As evidenced by the foot currently stuffed in my mouth." Jurt just offered a smile to smooth over her concern, but didn't interrupt his brother. "Now is the time to acquire social skills, my dear Tear. And if you will slip into the chamber three doors down from here, you will see I have procured a valise filled with all you might need. And a dress for the dinner party which you should change into. Three dresses, actually, but you should choose and wear only one." A glance at Jurt warned him to wait. Jurt flipped the card over and finished his cup of tea. "And perhaps," Mandor considered smoothly, "you should send a page for Larissa so that she might help you to choose and take custody of Tanstaafl at the same time." "Dresses?" Tear said, casting her gaze toward the door. Tanstaafl snorted. "You know? The fabric items you wear over that runty frame of yours? Now let's go. You have a party to get to and I have a date with a gorgeous woman. I need to freshen up." He turned his head to the others, "Not to worry. We'll sort her out before you leave. So, until then, thanks for the éclairs Mandy. A pleasure to meet you Purt." Lord Jurt quirked a smile, but didn't correct the... Tanstaafl. He hopped off the chair and went over to tug at Tear's hem. She let out a nervous laugh and nodded. "Okay, okay. I'm going," she relented. Tear stood up and curtsied to the men. "Thank you," she said. "Master Jurt, I will attend you promptly." Her violet eyes touched his, as if grasping for solid ground. Once again, something about this casual manner gave her a sense of easy. Enough, at least, to follow the bouncing ball of fur toward the changing room. [Exit Tear to Dressing For Stark Terror ] Jurt rose and offered her a shallow bow as she left. Once the door closed he regained his seat and produced a silver flask with a rosevine decoration and proceded to does his tea liberally. He offered some to his brother with a gesture and commented dryly, "Alright. If he's not intrigued, I am. Of course I'm having more fun watching the game than the pieces." Mandor smiled. "I trust I shall contrive to amuse you. What do you think of my little protegee?" "I expect strength from those you respect. I've yet to see the steel beneath the lace," Jurt offers. "But I'll admit, the lace has appeals of its own." "What's the story with the... Tanstaffl?" "She has an amusing little tale, with which she will no doubt regale you," said Mandor. "I'm interested that the creature has chosen to remain behind. What do you think - a desire to illustrate independence, or that our little furry friend has a strong distaste for Chaos?" "Or, depending on the connections and level of sympathetic connection, a test to its strengths and a remarkably large set of ears well set within the Castle's wards while its master is abroad," Jurt offered. "Very true," said Mandor. "But while Larissa guards him, I think his sphere of opportunity may be limited. He might find himself acting as mascot to one of Merlin's driunken revels - which might broaden his - and Tear's - experience of life considerably. "Talking of broadening experiences ... I understand you have been showing an interest in one of the young ladies on the Ramblin' Queen." "I've taken a contract, yes," Jurt confirms. "Much more convenient than marriage and possibly less expensive. Should any problems arise..." He spreads his hands. "There's always an end in sight, short of sending her home to SawallWays or death." Mandor nodded. "And, of course, it acts as a suitable disguise for your true intent. - keeping watch on your brother." "Well, it has its own charms as well, but it allows some oversight on Merlin other than his drinking chums, for the Crown's sake." The younger man aquired another eclair and took a thoughtful bite. "Spin control is always easier if you react quickly. Can't react if you don't know." "And you feel that lying in the arms of one of the charming young ladies of the Ramblin' Queen is the best way to monitor Merlin's behaviour?" asked Mandor in faint surprise. "Of course not," Jurt answered. "There are other ways, that are more effective in other surroundings and other circumstances. This is but one that I need not remind you upon which you happened to comment." "Are you asking me to keep a closer eye on the King for some reason?" "I am somewhat concerned that his closest associates seem to be Amberites," said Mandor. "A good leavening of Chaos would be ... helpful. I would not be displeased if he were to take an interest in one or other of the those you'll be escorting back to Amber." "Even if it turns out to be Helena?" Jurt asked simply. Mandor frowned. "Preventing that will be another of your tasks," he said curtly. Jurt very carefully didn't break-out into laughter. He simply inclined his head. "I assume the same discouragement applies to myself and Despil?" "Pity. Cly's figure with a head *not* filled with Flora's prattling on is somewhat enticing." His smile was gentle and offered to ensure that Mandor understood his joking tone. Mandor smiled faintly. "Flora possesses an aptitude for manipulation that is well night Chaosian in its subtlety. Clytemnestra - must you call her by that absurd nichname for any reason other than to irritate her? - is leaning at the hands of a master. I could wish ... " He broke off, frowning. The estrangement between Father and daufghter was too well known to need further comment. Instead Mandor sighed. "What has become of that girl? I thought he had risen about petty vanities - it seems that I was mistaken." Jurt shook his head. "Of course she had. Right until you sent her to face three other women." "It would be forward of me to go look, and if anything... we'll just be fashionably late." Mandor was frowning again. "And allowing Despil to take it as an insult from us? You should be aware that he is becoming ... difficult." "How so?" Jurt asked. "As one of the most visible members of the House simply due to proximity, that's disconcerting." "He claims to find it a little arduous to be the sole representative for our interests in Chaos," said Mandor. "And he has to deal with the fact that our elevation of House Sawall has excited considerable jealousy." A faint cough came from the doorway. "I'm not interrupting am I?" Tear stood there, hands folded timidly in front of her. She wore a stunning gown of green and purple that showed off her petite frame. As the men turned, she reached up to touch the necklace around her delicate throat. It was an unconscious defensive motion, further betraying how uncomfortable she actually was with her fragile beauty. "If any man were to suggest such a thing I would have to demand satisfaction from him, trisp en fand at sunset," Jurt replied. Tear blushed and ran her finger along the necklace. "Thank you. I think." She walked over to her chair and settled in. Her eyes sought out Mandor's; her face painted with worry and embarrassment. "I'm sorry I took so long. We were~E" She pauses. "Trying to figure what I'd look best in. I'm not much of a dress person as you can tell, so it took some time. My apologies, Master." "No matter," said Mandor. "You look ... delightful." He held out a hand towards her. Take my hand - and Jurtr, you take Tear's other hand." He was holding up a card now and studying it intently. "Despil?" Tear followed the instructions given to her, standing and moving to take their hands. Having never used a Trump in her lifetime, she studied Mandor and her surroundings carefully. She appeared completely lost in the wonderment of this new experience; her curiosity calming her fractured nerves. Jurt smiled a curious smile, admiring Tear's innocence as much as the loss of it. He then focused back where Despil's image would make an appearance.
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