Moments in the WoodsIndex | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | Moments in the Woods
She found him in the main clearing, speaking with the rangers who had captured the Chaosian lord. As he saw her approaching, he dismissed them and waited, unsmiling, for her to draw close. Islain drew closer, studying him as she approached, trying to gauge his mood. She smiled slightly, more as an overture than anything else. "You will go to Amber," he said, without preamble. "You've decided - haven't you?" "Everyone seems so sure," Islain tossed her damp hair over her shoulder, pursing her lips. "You... Petra... Even Mandor. He offered me little enough incentive and you are all so certain I'll just go." She arched her head back a little, languorously rubbing her neck. "I'm not at all sure it is the prudent course of action. Petra offered me the 'neutral ground' of the Queen and her own support, which is touching, but after Johann's little fiasco, I can't imagine I'll be welcome. Would I not be wiser to stay here... where I am safe?" "Yes," said Julian immediately, and with conviction. Then he smiled, a little ruefully. "And are you wise, my Islain?" "Someone called me so, not terribly long ago," she said, enjoying his smile. He had not smiled since that morning. "And I am certainly old enough to endeavor to be wise." She kissed his cheek. "I will stay here and be wise, my chevalier, but only if we are allowed a moment of folly. What heart I have left is filled with you, it is true, but I am also an old woman who was never a mother, and it..." she rubbed her upper front teeth against her lower in a feral gesture, "... grieves me to think Johann may be abandoned to the 'mercies' of Mandor Sawall. Do you think Caine could effect something, if you asked?" "I'm sure he'll try," said Julian thoughtfully, "but it can be harder to influence events at such a distance." "Which brings us right back to the folly of my accepting Mandor's offer, even for a few days." Islain sighed and scrubbed a hand through her hair, letting her pale face show uncertainty for a moment, just for him. "I have... uses for Johann. And I want to know how he got working gunpowder. I think that is worth a little risk. We can... try Caine first. If he's got no realistic methods, I may have to go to Amber. For a little while." "Try to contact your sister," suggested Julian. "She may well have a better understanding of what's happening on the ground now. I'll see if I can reach Caine." "As you wish," Islain said quietly, surprised that he had not guessed it was Larissa she had spoken to earlier. She dug through her cards and found that of her sister. "I'll just be a moment," she said with a smile to Julian and then she took a few steps away and concentrated on those familiar features. Even as she was waiting for the contact to be made, she was aware of a growing tension in Julian ... and, perhaps, a growing anger. As she sensed this, Islain dropped her attempts to contact Larissa and slid the Trumps back into her pocket. Slowly she turned and regarded her uncle, letting his the palpable violent energy of his tension heighten her own senses. Her eyes flitted around the courtyard, checking quickly for any sign of danger that did not come from Julian - and his Trump contact? There was nothing - just Julian and whatever he was hearing from the trump contact. Suddenly it was broken, and he drew a long, hard breath, before turning to look at Islain. Never had she seen such naked anger in his face. "If you had bred me boys," he said, "I would not have served them so." Islain's beautiful face smoothed, her eyes locking down, lips pressing tightly together. "He means to leave him, then?" Julian nodded slowly, his face as hard as though it had been carved from granite. That Caine was Johann's father was new news to her, but not exactly a revelation. "Well, bred ours or no, we will not so serve him. I have little left that I consider family, but poor Johann must now have none." She put her hand gently on his bicep, meeting his eyes with hers. "I will come back to you." "Do so," said Julian. "And in one piecem, with that lovely gace of yours unmarked ... " He reached out and stroked a gloved finger down her cheek. "When will you leave? And how do you wish to travel?" "Petra gave me a Trump of her and offered to stay me on the Rambling Queen so that I may make myself suitably radiant for my appearance in Amber. It seems as convenient a way of travel as any," Islain said, turning her cheek toward his touch as a sunflower toward light. Julian nodded. "Call her," he said. "Call her now." Islain could not help but be amused and somewhat surprised by his change of heart. It worried her slightly, but she could not take the moment to think of it now. "Before you change your mind," she said, however, and shuffled around her Trumps until she got to the new one, holding the entire deck lightly in her right hand. "Will you at least give me a kiss goodbye?" It began as a kiss ... It was three hours later that Islain was ready to make her trump call ... Besides being wholly satisfying, and strangely, sweetly sad, their goodbye had given her the opportunity to change her clothing - she had put on a gown more elaborate than those she wore in Arden, of a rich velvet so purple it was nearly black, and she had hidden her knives well. She did not think she would need them aboard the Rambling Queen, or be allowed to keep them once she was in the palace, but caution was always a virtue. Islain had not packed a trunk or even her jewelry. She had, after all, left plenty in Amber, and had resources to buy more if necessary. It also should look as if she were going to come back to Arden, whether or not she truly would. That thought tasted bitter and clouded the beauty of her moments with Julian, making her wonder if they truly were her last moments. So it was with a pensive expression and a cool determination that she took out again the one time use Trump of Petra and concentrated on her cousin's lovely face.
|
