Johann's preparationsJohann glanced down at the etching he had rendered on the parchment page below. It was not easy for him to create a trump sketch of someone who was not present, nor easy to create one of someone he had met only occasionally. That Petra had lent her some measure of reality by virtue of her presence was the only factor which helped matters. He glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. He knew how long ago she had left the Queen, roughly, but not how swiftly time passed wherever she had gone. He considered again what he was going to propose, drew a heavy breath, and nodded to himself. It was the best way. Johann focused on the trump sketch of Ornella, and patted his pocket to insure the asperin was in place. As she walked through the impossibly colored garden wearing nothing but a very sheer caftan, Ornella felt a swiftly building migraine coming from nowhere with no explanation and sighed. She was familiar with the sensation. She winced and stepped out of the sun and under the blue and silver foliage of the ancient tree and faced the cool darkness of the forest that bordered the property. "Please tell me a meteor smashed into something," Ornella answered tightly while massaging her temples with her eyes closed. "Or you've settled on a wedding date. Else I am going to be very put out with you, Petra." She peeked through her lashes and froze when she realized who was calling her. "Hm. Mr. Payne. How ... appropriate." "Yes, I often have this effect," Johann said with a mixture of teasing sarcasm and apology. He was dressed in a tuxedo, with his hair trimmed short, and he wore a pair of dark rimmed glasses. Over one shoulder he bore a guitar inside which she could tell was concealed a sword. He was, perhaps, in disguise. "May I come through?" he asked. She took a painful moment to think it over then held out a hand to bring him through. A moment later, his hand held hers as delicately as a bird and he stepped through. He took one appreciative look, but out of deference for the headache he'd induced schooled his eyes after that. The garden was a riot of impossibilities: not a tree in sight had green foliage, miniature phoenixes not limited in color to red flitted about trilling to one another among the treetops, butterflies the size of his hand danced among the flowers from which came the sounds of softly tinkling bells. He could smell the sea and hear the surf nearby, and the air was warm and fragrant. "Not Conarro... Landis? No, Atlantis," Johann reasoned as he took in the sights and scanned the surroundings for onlookers. She gestured at the villa made of pale pink marble that was on a small rise from where they stood. "Shall we? I need something for this abominable headache." "I have asperin," he said as he offered two white pills, "but you'll have better luck there, I'm sure," he said as he nodded his agreement and walked beside her towards the villa. "They have some terribly good tobacco products in Atlantis," Ornella agreed while shading her eyes as they followed the path back into the cool dimness of the villa. It turned out to be quite the nice place for a beach house. It was of a fair size, two stories with a balcony overlooking the back garden. Inside was elegance without fussiness, though the artwork that decorated the place was outstandingly brilliant. Most of it was of an erotic nature. Johann nodded and tossed them into the weeds. Ornella lead him into a front room with a view of the ocean through the high arched windows. She went straight for straight for a chaise lounge and the table beside it that held an already packed pipe carved of deep blue wood. Johann knew her head must be pounding, so he did not dally to examine the fine artwork. He did note it, as well as the exits, on his way in. "To what," she asked after taking a long draw. "Do I owe this surprising visit." Johann settled himself on a stool he brought over with one foot, his guitar across his knees. "It'd be cruel to pain you just to see you," Johann said with a nod. "I do have a good reason." "To speak with you about matters political, and to have you be able to deny this conversation ever took place. Hopefully, Petra will never know of it. Should I continue, or leave?" Johann said as he looked up at her eyes from the stool, and gently strummed the guitar's strings like a lap harp. Ornella sat back and eyed him a moment. "I'll hear you out." She waved her hand, indicating he should proceed as she sat back and brought the smoldering pipe back to her lips. Her body was already showing signs of relaxing, but her eyes were still sharp and he knew her mind wasn't dulled by the sweet smelling tobacco she was smoking. Johann paused for a moment, to make sure the pain had fully receded before he continued. "You've read my writings, so I'll skip quite a bit. In sixty years, three more generations will be born under Chaos knowing only Mandor's 'truth'. Caine et al. will retake the city, but they'd need hundreds of years of purges to undo Mandor. Political writings have only slowed the shifting zeitgeist. I have a plan, and it involves at least one of Petra's people. If it fails, she'd lose everything... unless I take precautions to insulate her. If it succeeds, Order is restored in months, not years," Johann said boldly. His words were serious, and his eyes steady on hers. He picked at the guitar to accent his words. Ornella's eyebrow slowly arched. "You're serious." She laid her head back and looked at the ceiling a moment. "I can't do anything if it's going to endanger her, or my sisters. Take whatever precautions you have to keep them from harm." She lowered her gaze back to him. "What is your plan, and why does it need one of us?" Johann started to play a little tune, spoke more softly, and leaned closer so that she could still hear him. "I'm going to have Mandor visit the Queen. My accomplice will recall nothing of the plan, but her voluntary subconscious trigger will go off, and she'll trump me. I will walk through the Queen with a knife to her neck until I get to Mandor. He dies. Not all of the details... but you get the idea?" Ornella gaped at him silently for a very long moment. Then she frowned and stood up, walking around him to go the bar against the far wall. Johann followed her with his eyes, but remained seating. He was grinning a bit, but not so much that he expected to be slapped for it. "It won't work," she informed him over the clink of glass on glass. "Vincenzo wouldn't hesitate to go through me to get to you if he thought Petra was endangered in any way by you." She returned, handing him a glass of something sea green sparking with silver light. "Besides, I can't use a trump. None of us can. Goddess know, Petra's tried everything to make it happen, but it's just not meant to be. "The trump problem can be solved. She'd... you'd... signal me another way, and I'll trump you. You know the secret passages, Vincenzo's movements around the ship? I did not mean to use you as just a pretty shield on my arm. I mean to avoid Petra as well, if I can... no threat to her, and his priorities may change," Johann replied with continued confidence. It did not sound as if her objections to the plan were unexpected. She laughed and her eyes gleamed. Devil's Advocate was her favorite role. "Who do you think Mandor would expect to spend the evening with should he grace us with his presence? I suspect it would be Petra. She is the one in charge, and has more to offer then any of us. Even though it's a well known fact she doesn't entertain clients, he strikes me as a man who expects to spend his time with only the best. He would be making some sort of point by bedding the only descendent of Oberon onboard, don't you think? It would be symbolic of his continued using of all that your homeland is and has to offer, doing to her what he does to Amber." Johann frowned for a moment, then his grin returned and he said "If you're agreed up to there, we've made progress." He did emphasize the 'if,' of course. "I'm not above killing him while he's in bed, but afterwards would be best. As for Vincenzo, Mandor is much dangerous... not that I'm overlooking him," Johann pointed out as he rose and moved beside her at the bar. He placed one hand on the bar, next to her own, but not quite touching her. His guitar, and sword, were still sitting on the stool. "She'll never forgive you, " stated Ornella. "Ever. She loves that place. She's proud of it. They'll burn it to the waterline and there'll be nowhere we can hide." She tapped her nails against the polished pale purple wood. "And what makes you think a knife is going to do him in?" "If I fail, Mandor kills me and the Queen is fine. If I succeed, the Queen may need to leave port for a time to avoid the chaos in Amber... but Mandor's death is not to be the end of it all. She'll still never forgive me, but I believe she wants Mandor gone and as little blood shed in Amber as possible," Johann replied. "Oh... I'm going to shoot him," Johann said almost as an afterthought, with a grin which turned feral. "You're quite mad, you know that?" Ornella observed. She reached for her glass then stopped. "Hold up. I thought guns didn't work in Amber." Johann's smile widened, and there was indeed a touch of a mad flicker in his eyes. "Oh, they aren't supposed to... but Corwin found a way. Mandor will be -very- surprised." "It is a very dangerous plan," Johann said, suddenly more serious. "It is also the one most likely to succeed... he will be vulnerable, he -will- see the Queen eventually, and the first gunshot heard in Amber in a century -must- blow his head clean off, or he'll reproduce my trick." "He's going to stud Merlin and kill him in the next few decades, and then there will be no more need for the Queen... the King's whole circle might die in a tragic fire out on the water, with Merlin's son or daughter left with Uncle Mandor as regent." Her nose scrunched up in distaste. "Do you actually know this, or is this speculation on your part? Personally, I think it's more likely he'll just step up and take it himself should Merlin perish in some tragic 'accident'. By that time, everyone will be used to him, and only the former Royals will even remember what Amber was once." Ornella gave him an appraising look. "Which is why I wonder why so many of you are still alive, and why he keeps bringing in more of the lost bastard children instead of killing them where he finds them. " "I know he'll have Merlin marry, and that he'll not let a boat stand in the way. I was there when Mandor invaded. The man is like a coin... and you have not seen his other face. Chadwick is a hostage against Flora's good behavior, and if there are any cousins other than Morgan I don't know of them. For now, Morgan keeps the King happy. Amberites fascinate him, but he will brook no real challenge to his power." "Why on earth would Petra or the Queen care if Merlin got married?" Ornella shrugged, supremely unconcerned. "She didn't start it up for Merlin's amusement. There's plenty of other clients out there without him. Vincenzo would be relieved if he never saw Merlin again. I'm sure they'll be a party." "Petra wouldn't... but would Merlin prefer your company to that of his intended brides?" Johann asked quietly. "Point," Ornella conceeded. She laughed. "Maybe he'll Marry Merlin off to Petra. Problems solved." Ornella took her drink and wandered back to her seat. She still had a lingering headache and massaged the space between her eyebrows as she sat down. "So tell me. After you have spattered the Prime Minister's gray matter all over a perfectly lovely wall, what then? Is your standing army hidden around Amber in back alleys and dives? Ready to swoop in and save the rest of the citizenry from the reprisals that are sure to follow as soon as word gets out?" Johann again paused to let her enjoy a few sips from her drink while he considered how much to tell her. He removed a lighter from his pocket, struck it with the heel of his hand, and held it up at arms length to the edge of the bar mirror to see if it was one-way glass. "I have plans in the city, yes. The garrison will be busy bleeding, and there will be few reprisals against the citizens," he said before pausing to return to his stool, but he did not sit down. "There will be losses -whenever- Caine and Julian retake the city. If -that- is your concern, you should support my plan to minimize them... or urge Mandor to kill every last Amberite, including Petra. If you fear the Queen will be damaged in wartime, best to know -when- war comes, and to have the winners thank you for your help, perhaps. If you think Petra does not long for Amber of old, I've misjudged what happened to thousands of pieces of priceless artwork she felt needed to be smuggled out of the city," Johann said as he moved behind her seat. Ornella nearly snorted her drink. "I've heard those rumors. What makes you think she had anything to do with that?" "Optimism, and Vikund. I'd have them in a basement in Cornario over one in Chaos," he replied. Ornella frowned at the mention of Vikund, but she let it pass without commment. "A shoulder rub?" he asked by way of a non-sequitor. His hands were resting on the armrest on either side of her head, but still he had not touched her without her permission. "That would be lovely," she smiled up to him. "I'm not positive I follow your train of thought on urging Mandor to kill you all off," she admitted. "Would that be to assure there was no attempted coup?" Johann stretched his fingers with a few soft pops, then delicately slid the shift off of her smooth shoulders and brushed her hair to one side. His thumbs started to gently kneed right above the hairline, easing muscles which had become tense as they had discussed dangerous matters. "There are two roads to peace... we are patient, but will not suffer Mandor forever. He can eliminate us, or we him... in this, surely you have a preference," he said slowly and softly as he worked his hands down her trapezius in a compelling demonstration of his knowledge of anatomy. "Mmmm..." was her only response for a moment once he started working on her. "I would certainly prefer not being among the eliminated, and I'm sure I would be if you all were. Though I think I would prefer it that to some of the more disturbing scenarios I could come up with should you all not win the day." "What is your time frame on this? You said months." "Months, after everything is in place. It will happen this decade," he said as he continued to kneed her shoulders. "All right," she smiled. "I Would have hated to have to rush back from my vacation. We're having dinner with the Emperor tomorrow." Ornella opened one eye and looked up at him with a inviting smile. "Was there any more business you wanted to discuss? If not, Perhaps I can convince you to relax for a couple of hours ... or so." "If you -are- agreed, we -will- have to give you something much more memorable to remember..." Johann said with a matching smile down at her. "And you still owe me for that headache," she noted with a hint of a smirk. But she grew swiftly serious again. "Are you sure about this course of action? Really sure? Everyone is going to know it was you, unless you have a clever disguise. It could so easily blow up in your face, Johann, and then who will keep everything in the public eye?" "If I don't risk myself, who am I to ask others to risk as much? As for writing... I'm sure you understand why 'Anonymous' is the most prolific author of all. He has thousands of hands to write with," he said in a tone which was both serious and jocular. "Now, about your headache," he said as he slid onto the chaise lounge beside her. The short of it is, after a lovely evening, Johann is going to edit her memory and place a few triggers (with her expressed consent). Depending on local physics, he may ply her with lotus extract and swing a crystal in front of her face, or go in through Trump, or some combination of both. |
