Entreating the SorceressIndex | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | PreGameLogs | Entreating the Sorceress After Ingrey's long, convoluted but ultimately successful negotiations with Lord Torren, he headed back to Wererathe, taking the courtesy of the carriage that had brought him from the Ways of his House to Ishtar's. As he sat in the carriage for the relatively long ride, a thought came to Ingrey. By the time the carriage reached the gates of the House of the Shadowmasters, the thought had fully formed inside of Ingrey's head. The next hour seemed like an impatient eternity to Ingrey, as he proceeded to report to Jaelyn on the success of the negotiations and the terms agreed upon, and then proceeded to see his own family, and speak to them of his negotiations. Finally, Ingrey reached his own quarters inside ItascaWays, and began writing. Lady Fiona, It occurs to me that I might have provided an incomplete and erroneous impression of myself, and what I represent, in our intolerably too-brief meeting. And, it is possible that you would prefer to hear news from Amber, or other subjects that I can speak to but did not have the opportunity to do so. I would be happy to fill any lacunae and correct the impression. I should like to meet you, in a location of your own choosing. I am certain that someone of your own abilities will be quite capable of both responding to this, and choosing a discreet place that will suit matters delightfully. I remain your servant, Ingrey, House Wererathe. He sealed the envelope with his seal, and handed the sealed letter to a demon servitor with instructions to bring it to Fiona in House Ishtar. An answer came back, by demon. "The Lady Fiona is permitted to walk by the Shores of Perfinion for three hours each diurnal in the early afternoon, when she may watch the pit divers. The Lord Ingrey may, perchance, take the air at a similar hour." Ingrey considered the answer for a few moments after the demon had departed. The Shores of Perfinion were an excellent choice, he thought. Almost anyone who went on the dizzying paths that led to the overlooks where the Pit Divers plyed their trade was not a place that people went to look at other people navigating the terrain, one went there for the view and the spectacle. Even if Fiona had watchers and handlers, Ingrey knew how to shake a tail, if it came to that. And so, the very next diurnal, not long after midday, Ingrey found himself arriving on the lower, "south" end of the Shore walk. While he did spend a few minutes enjoying the view, and those who dared to delve into the depths below, Ingrey's eyes were mainly focused on finding an attractive, if dangerously so, red haired sorceress as he slowly made his way north toward the even more spectacular views from the more gaping overlooks. He rounded a corner of the rocks and came on a slightly surprising sight - a green and white check rug was spread on the rocks, weighted down by a large wicker picnic basket. This was being somewhat fussily unpacked by a small demon. Fiona sat beside the rug, her legs curled under her like a cat. She was gazing out over the Abyss, watching the slow spiraling of the Flyers, while the Descenders were busily weaving their webs to make descent easier. Ingrey slowed his pace as he spotted the rug, picnic basket, demon and the picnicker. Certainly people were known to take their leisure along the Shore, but the manner and method Fiona chose were slightly unusual even by the standards of Chaos. Ingrey continued walking until he found a convenient place to descend to the rocks, walking so that he would approach the rug from the far side from where Fiona sat in such a feline manner. A thought occurred to Ingrey about that, and he put it aside, and finally, once he reached what he thought was a sufficient distance, he spoke. "May it be permitted to sit here, m'lady?" Ingrey asked, indicating the stretch of rocks upon which he stood. "Certainly," said Fiona. "Perhaps you would be kind enough to join me in my picnic. I seem to have packed rather too much." The demon gave a little grunt that suggested it was thoroughly in agreement with this. Ingrey nodded, and descended into a crossed-leg position, within easy reach of the contents of the rug and the food that the demon was laying out, but not touching it otherwise. "It would be pleasing for me to partake of your picnic, milady." Ingrey agreed. "It certainly is a pleasant view and a pleasant afternoon to do so." He turned to watch to see what the little demon was unpacking. There seemed to be egg and cress sandwiches, a game pie and other traditional accountrements of a picnic, such as cold chicken, cold tongue, cold ham, cold beef, pickled gherkins, pickled onions, salad - of various denominations - french rolls, potted meat, potted shrimps, hard boiled eggs, lemonade, sodawater, a rather fine claret, fresh plums, fresh figs, crunchy apples, hard pears, and, of course, lashings of ginger beer. Indeed, it appeared to be a dimensionally adjusted picnic hamper for it seemed extremely uinlikely that so much could have been squeezed into it in the first place. Ingrey's eyes raked over each of the many items that Fiona had apparently packed into the extraordinary picnic basket. He waited patiently for the servitor demon to finish his laying out of all of the items before making comment. "I was unaware that Milady likes such a large selection and variety in her meals. I am impressed by the breadth and scope of the food you have available, and consequently can share with me." Ingrey said, giving a nod of respect for the offering of food. "Does your servitor also serve?" Ingrey said and then added with a touch of intended playful ambiguity. "Or would you rather that I do?" "If you wish," said Fiona. "She will withdraw - as long as I remain in your company." She smiled. "My freedom is within certain bounds, you see." Ingrey considered this a moment, and then bowed his head. "Then, if your freedom is only within certain bounds, and the circuit of your words and deeds constricted, perhaps if it were I who seek to serve you." there was just the slightest hint of playfulness in his gaze, especially if the demon was looking "then the shape of your boundary might be different, for a time. And, perhaps." Ingrey continued his partially playful gaze. "slightly more appealing to Milady." And then Ingrey very deliberately bowed his head, deeply to Fiona, in the manner of one who would, for a short time, give service to Milady. Any service that was desired... "You may leave us," said Fiona. The demon scowled - or perhaps it was made that way - sprouted stubby little wings like the leaves of a cabbage and fluttered off some distance towards the edge of the Abyss (where presently it began to amuse itself by throwing pebbles at the wheeling pit divers). Ingrey watched the departure of the annoyed demon dispassionately, and returned his attention back to Fiona as a modicum of privacy was obtained. "So," said Fiona, once they were alone, "would your service extend to passing me a bottle of ginger beer?" "Certes, Milady." Ingrey said with a respectful, practiced nod of the head that was smooth and not at all perfunctory. He grasped the bottle by the base and opened it before passing it, slightly tilted, so that she might grasp the neck. "And for myself, of course." Ingrey added, reaching for another and opening it. He took a draught, closed his eyes, nodded, and then opened them again. His eyes ran along the food between them, and then up to regard Fiona expectantly. "What?" said Fiona. "What? "I've accepted your invitation, I've provided my presence and what you have to admit is a dam' fine spread. I think, my dear Counsellor, you're pushing your luck if you want me to supply the conversation as well." Her lips curved into a smile but her green eyes promised something more ... dangerous. "Oh certainly not, Milady." Ingrey said, coolly, calmly, far calmer in fact in tone than he actually felt, with his rather bold maneuver here. Spying on hosts and rival embassies to nations and shadows was one thing, but treating in this fashion with one of the most potent sorceresses on either side of the universe was perhaps Ingrey's most bold move yet. It wouldn't do to be turned into a newt. "I merely was waiting for your signal to begin, rather than talking over you." Ingrey said and took a sip of the beer, nodding slowly as he found fuller favor with it. "As my business is with words, it is not merely the volume of words that counts, but their use and placement." Fiona gave a slow nod in acknowledgement. "I am honored by your acceptance of my offer, and admit that this goes beyond what I had expected. Your thoughtfulness and attention to detail are a credit to you. But I have more interesting words to employ than simple flattery. Or besides it, in any event." Ingrey said. "I have long wanted to meet you, for several reasons." Ingrey's face didn't quite move into a smile, but the twinkle in his eye resumed. "And on the subject of meetings, it was a pleasure to meet your daughter Helena. Your other daughter, that is." Ingrey began. "I do not in truth have much contact with Clytemnestra, although I do see her at Court, of course. Your sister Florimel has taken her into her tutelage. She is not very connected to her father, at least not publically or to my knowledge. She is much more the product of the shadow of her raising, and, as I said, Flora's influence." Ah," said Fiona. "Flora's revenge. How very neat. All those years of ... pointed remarks. So she makes my daughter into an empty-headed imitation of herself." Ingrey considered a response for a moment and decided to bide one for now. Instead, he reached for a plate and began lading it with items from the dam fine spread as he let the red haired sorceress digest this first bit. "And my brother?" asked Fiona. "Have you seen much of him - or has he been granted a longer leash than mine?" "Prince Bleys is the Amberian counterpart to my own superior, Lady Paloma Baccaran." Ingrey replied evenly. "As such, I do not get to deal with him overmuch, but I have had a number of dealings and discussions with him. He favors the company of the Lady to mine, as you might expect." Ingrey offered the beginnings of a wry smile. "Yes," said Fiona. "Yes, that is what I would expect." "And Merlin? Do you find your puppet makes a fitting replacement for Oberon and Eric?" The arrow hit home, Ingrey briefly flashed a face of being displeased with himself, and he didn't answer for a few moments, instead looking at his plate. He didn't wind up touching the food, and instead looked up. "Merlin is not *my* puppet." Ingrey responded evenly. "Unless you attribute to me rank, power and ambition far beyond what I possess or aspire to." he continued. "To answer your question, however, Lady Fiona, I do not think it a state secret that the Prime Minister prefers a malleable Monarch, so much easier to manipulate for being his brother." "The puppet barely even knows of my existence." Ingrey added. "I'm just a impoverished, salaried diplomat from the Embassy, not a Power Behind The Throne." The last words were deliberately capitalized. "And," said Fiona, thoughtfully selecting a piece of feathered celery, "a Chaosian. Which certainly makes Merlin your puppet and not mine." She dipped it languidly in a small pot of mayonaise before beginning to nibble on it reflectively. "Do you know, it's days like today that make me glad I chose as I did." Ingrey took one of the hard boiled eggs, and bit into it, eating half, before he responded. "Truly, Milady?" Ingrey said after a moment, taking a sip of the ginger beer before continuing. "It would appear, to a perhaps myopic and incomplete outside point of view, that your life here is somewhat constricted, restricted, bound and held in check, even more so than the norm for the traditions of the Courts." "Of course, if you had married, say, Lord Niran of House Mahanakorn, instead of Torren Ishtar, I should never have been allowed to meet you at all. Your feet would be ritually bound and you would be restricted to a small garden outside your rooms and the House." Ingrey said. He took a sip of his beer and finished his egg before continuing. "Such a even more restricted role would not suit Fiona Clarissasdottir, I think." "On the other hand, if I have married Lord Pandu of House Barvarita, I would have found myself with five devoted husbands, all longing to grant my slightest whim," Fiona pointed out. "However ... neither alternative was offered me. The Empror was very nice in determining the length of chain I should wear. And the choice was not between one House and another ... it was between Lord Torren and the Pit. It was, in the end, not so very hard a choice." Ingrey nodded thoughtfully at Fiona's words. "I have not had the honor of addressing the Emperor himself, of course. I am ranked a shade too low. "He is a very thorough man." Ingrey said. "Speaking personally, I am glad that he offered you a choice at all, even if the chain is... short." Ingrey thoughtfully reached for a bit of the cold chicken. "Milady, is there anything I might do to temporarily extend the reach of your chain, or improve what is within its reach?" "And what," said Fiona, her green eyes gleaming, "would you suggest, Ingrey of House Wererathe?" Ingrey felt unnerved under the gleam of the green eyes of the sorceress, and he swallowed slightly, nervously. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead. "I might suggest many possible things, Milady." Ingrey said, with a respectful bob of the head. "I know you not well enough to guess what would be the best service I could perform, but I observe that what you lack is variety of experience, which I might provide, as well as an opportunity to provide information or message to party or parties your chain will not allow you to reach." "And I hasten to point out that a diplomat like myself can be discreet and things remain confidential that you ask of me." Ingrey added. "Oh, but of course," said Fiona, her eyes opening very wide. "Why should a Chaosian diplomat wish to betray me?" Ingrey kept his face carefully a mask at Fiona's response. She smiled at him, very sweetly. "And if I were to accept your offer, Ingrey Wererathe, what price would you ask of me?" Ingrey paused a moment, looked down at his food, and then into the gleaming green eyes of the red haired sorceress. "You don't entirely trust me, or perhaps do not trust me at all. While it would be impudent and imprudent to point out that this visit and meeting were at some risk, and with some difficulty, and certainly could have been squelched with but a word from you, I will concede your thought that this is all some sort of play on my part, or on the part of another party whom I am serving in the matter." Ingrey says. "A diplomat's words and actions are often treated with skepticism, although, Lady Fiona, it is rarely with such acidic directness that it comes." Fiona inclined her head, as though accepting a graceful compliment. "I do not intend rebuke, you, milady are exactly like a beautiful, and poisonous serpent. Your bite and words can drip venom, even as you are lovely and alluring all the same." His blue eyes glittered like the Amber sky as he looked into Fiona's eyes and licked his lips as he continued. "On the contrary," said Fiona, seemingly diverted, "to be called a Serpent in Chaos strikes me as the very height of a compliment, Ingrey Wererathe. Pleased that she had taken the appelation well, Ingrey let his gaze sink into Fiona's for a moment longer before he continued his reply. "With that in mind, I will not ask anything of you in return, save to keep me in your thoughts for future possible dealings, if you find the service I render satisfactory." "I see," said Fiona thoughtfully. "So ... you will prove your worthiness to me by conveying something from me to ... Amber. To any person within Amber?" "Not something intended to murder or do harm." Ingrey replied, reaching for and apple. He regarded her as he took a bite with a satisfying, hard crunch before continuing. "But a token, message, missive or the like, yes. A Minister Counselor of the Chaosian Embassy does allow me to meet with people with no little latitude and little suspicion. "What did you have in mind, Milady?" Ingrey asked, taking another enthusiastic bite of the apple. He looked from the apple to the woman he had blunted compared to an alluring serpent, and in an unguarded moment of mirth at the symbolism, grinned. "Well, you've already excluded the really fun stuff," said Fiona. "However, I am sure I can give you a innocuous token to be taken back to Amber. There's a young kinswoman of my husband's who resides in Amber - I understand she's kept hard at her books. I was much the same - and I'd like to send her something that contrived to amuse me, when I was young." "Agreed." Ingrey said, taking another crunch of the apple as he regarded the formidable Fiona. "Name the person, and get me the token--by another clandestine meeting, if necessary, and I will see that it is delivered upon my return to Amber. "On my word of honor." Ingrey said, his tone turning serious. He paused and then came to a decision and continued. "You have little reason to trust me, and probably consider me a jailor like any other here in Chaos, milady Fiona." Ingrey continued. "So, I will, if you wish, take a Sanguinary Oath here and now and promise upon it to deliver the token, without seeking betrayal or advantage over you. I always carry a knife for the purpose." Ingrey added. "How very far-sighted of you," said Fiona. "But there's no need. If you fail me without having sworn an oath, there would be little point in trusting you anyway. But the recipient will be a certain Baroness Solitaire Helgram - have you encountered her in Amber?" "Tear," Ingrey said with a nod of recognition. "The precociously talented protege of the Prime Minister. I've met her, although I've not had the pleasure of an extended interview with her before this. Your gift to her would give me the opportunity to correct that deficiency." Fiona's lips twitched slightly. "I'm delighted to be of service to you, Master Wererathe. Perhaps you could furnish me with a list of other people you are anxious to meet in Amber, and I'll see if I could send gifts to them as well." Ingrey shot the redhaired sorceress an amused look. "I only meant to say that Tear's patron can be rather protective, and I've had few good excuses to actually spend copious amounts of time with the girl. Now, you have given me one. "One must take the advantage to meet people, even if it takes unusual situations to do so." Ingrey said, gesturing over the dam' fine spread and then let his gaze settle on the sorceress. "Perhaps a glass each of the claret, and a toast to the beginning of a perhaps fruitful relationship?" Ingrey suggested. "Certainly," said Fiona. "Although for the time being we should remain friends apart. Too many merry meetings on the lip of the Abyss and I could yet find myself exploring its depths." "And I could yet find myself meeting his Majesty the Emperor at last...just before being sent into the Carabas to be hunted by his minions of House Dirdir, in punishment." Ingrey agreed. "I concur completely with discretion and slow moves, milady." Ingrey popped the cork on the bottle and poured two glasses, holding out both for Fiona to choose before taking the other and holding it up to her in salute before he gave a bow of the head, and drank. --- Five days later, Ingrey received a small and beautifully wrapped packaged, labelled Baroness Solitaire Helgram. It was about six inches wide, nine inches to a foot long, and almost flat. The tingle in his finger ends when he held it suggested that it was heavily enchanted. With it was a card, addressed to him. All it said on the reverse was, "My Thanks. F." Even as he read the words, the letters faded.
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