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(Previous thread unknown; material before 14-12-07 missing)

Niccolo clapped Vincenzo on the shoulder as he walked by and into the outer room.

And there bin Fremen was, having fallen into a light doze on one of the well-upholstered couches. They had relaxed him rather well, it seemed.

Niccolo approached him quietly, and with great care, gently laid a hand on his shoulder as if to wake him. He took that moment as a point of contact, and used the strength of his Will to quietly verify Fremen's claims. Then he shook his shoulder lightly. "Signore, Signore -- I am sorry to wake you, but I wish to inform you of our circumstances, as your interest is perhaps more pressing."

Bin Fremen started, and then looked up at him, a little blearily. He made a gesture with his hand - it would have been expansive, but his half-awakened state made it seem clumsy.

"Speak," he said. "What are our circumstances?"

Niccolo took a seat, "We cannot make berth. Amber is turning ships away." He paused to let that sink in, waiting to see if bin Fremen would make the same connections he had. "That means you will have to wait to deliver the remains of your friend." Niccolo gestured vaguely North. "We are making for Port Bayle, but that will take time." He got to his feet, "If your need is urgent, we are able to provide you with a boat, for a fee -- but none of our staff will go with you. There are riots in the City, we suspect this is why the harbor was shut down."

Bin Fremen's face paled as he took in this news. Then his expression changed to one of inexorable loathing.

"The Begmans!" he snarled. "The Begmans are behind this!"

Niccolo raised a single eyebrow, "Begmans?" He paused, "Well, be that as it may, the Queen cannot find a safe berth in Amber tonight. We will be changing course for Port Bayle, but it will be another few hours, we are a pleasure boat, not a naval cutter." Niccolo eyed Fremen, "Shall I prepare a lifeboat for you and your friend?"

"Hah!" said bin Fremen. "And left the Begmans attack us while we are vulnerable? No, I think not, honoured Sir. We shall stay with the boat until we reach this ... Port Bayle."

Niccolo got to his feet, "Then please return to the main floor. We will make the best time we can." He stepped to the door, intending to let bin Fremen leave. "Is it your belief then, that Begma is aligned with foreign powers?"

Bin Fremen looked at him in some astonishment, then drew a deep breath.

There were a lot of conspiracy theories about Begma floating around the Kashfan states - and bin Fremen believed them all.

It was fortunate that his knowledge didn't cross Shadow as he would undoubtedly have blamed the Begmans for the destruction of Sigma 23, the hazing of the Emperor Tivillian, the assasination of President Kennedy and the death of the Princes in the Tower.

But he was more than willing to share what he did suspect with Niccolo - and that was a lot.

Niccolo's eyebrows rose as he sensed that he had stepped into a looming tidal wave of suspicions, both possible and improbable, and raised his hand to stop the deluge before it came crashing down. "Scusi, bin Fremen. Proceed to the Lounge, I will join you there later, in order to better grasp the whole of your insight, Si? But I am afraid that with the change in course, there are lingering matters I must attend, before entering into lengthy discourse regarding the Begmans. Capisci -- Understand?"

With that, he opened the door for Fremen to depart the room, and then stepped back into his office through the opposite door, closing that door behind him, with a glance to Vincenzo and a slight roll of his eyes. He tapped the side of his head, and moved away from the door.

Bin Fremen left, clearly a little disappointed.

Vincenzo shrugged. "He pays, always, and tips well, and demands nothing untoward. If he is a little obsessive on the subject of the Begmans, well, it is a minor shortcoming, and we make sure not to invite him when we deck the ship out for Begman national holidays."

Niccolo nodded, "I have no doubt that he's an excellent customer, or he would not be so forthcoming." He straightened, tilting his head. "I just avoided a tidal wave of Begman conspiracy theories, I've no doubt." He moved away from the door, "I've a Trump call, Zito."

He moved behind his desk, his amethyst gaze going distant as he accepted the call, Niccolo stood before Vincenzo in quiet discussion for no more than a few minutes, and then sighed. "There's more we must do, Vincenzo. I need to be let into Petra's office, and would you mind having someone see how many Persans we may or may not have aboard?" Niccolo moved to the door again, "Ornella is still in Amber."

Vincenzo was already writing a list in his neat, methodical hand, using a plump red leather bound book for reference, but at the mention of Ornella he looked up, his face sombre.

"I know. Do you have any ideas how we could extract her? Goran might be best ... if we could reach him."

"Yes, in Petra's office, there is a Trump sketch of her. If there is need, I will get her myself, Si? I have the quickest way back." Niccolo informed Vincenzo. "But first we must get into Petra's office, perhaps we can have Alex or Gino meet us there." He sighed, "I have no way to reach Goran. I am assured he has a means to return, however, so he'll not be stranded."

"He's resourceful," said Vincenzo with a certain dryness. "If not always the ideal subordinate. He'll be fine. Here's the key - I'll meet you in Petra's study. Which would you rather have, Alex or Gino?"

As he spoke, he handed Nicco a neat list of names - the Persans aboard.

Niccolo nodded at Vincenzo's assessment. "Goran will not be stranded at least, that was my main concern. He's not one we can spare, if you take my meaning." He accepted the key with a nod.

"For my peace of mind, and Petra's, send the one that can best defend himself if there is need." He looked over the list, "I will need to speak to some of them." Niccolo looked up to Vincenzo, "I intend to move the boat to Persa. Petra cannot return, and I cannot stay. She has instructed me to tell you that if things go very bad, you are to -- how did she put it? Bug Out, she said you knew the plan."

He proceeded into the hall, "I will find Ornella's sketch and get her back to the boat, but if I have to go and get her, I would prefer to do so armed." Niccolo headed for Petra's office.

The office was locked, but yielded to his key. The trump was in the place it should have been.

Niccolo entered Petra's office, his expression stern. Pulling weeds, indeed, he thought. He stood at her desk for a moment, after placing Ornella's sketch onto the desktop. He reached into the inner pocket of his leather jacket, just to assure himself the card he'd been given was still there. Then he took stock of the room, and where everything stood, and recalled his visits with Petra in Cornaro. He went from stillness to motion, and strode through her office to the door to her sitting room, from there into Petra's bedroom. Niccolo walked over to the bed, and flipped up her pillow, "Aah, Petralina." He picked up the dagger he found, tested it for its balance, gripping it with the blade up, and then the blade down, and deciding which he preferred before sliding it into a slim pocket opposite where the card was hidden. Between her bed and the night table was a crossbow, something of a purloined letter, in that it was neatly tucked into the space, but really in plain view. A little searching produced a brace of bolts, six in all, it would have to do.

He carried the crossbow and the bolts back into the office and placed them on the desk beside the sketch. Niccolo considered, for a moment, that it was possible he was being overcautious, but then he decided there was no such thing. The City was on fire in some places, and there were riots in the streets. He stepped behind Petra's desk, and sat in her chair, he rotated to his right -- as Petra was right handed, and his elbow brushed the table behind him. He reached beneath the table and felt the edge of a shelf, and upon it, a blade. He found the hilt and drew it forth, an Etruscan sword, rapier-like, with the hilt bearing Petra's coat of arms. Niccolo placed the sword on the desk, and waited for Vincenzo to return with one of the two men he'd asked for.

He didn't have long to wait before Vincenzo appeared, with Alex at his side. Both men were armed and dressed for a journey.

Niccolo got to his feet, and looked both men over. He produced the card Petra had given him, and handed it to Alex. "You're to get a message to Petra through. Fill our friends in on everything. I have to leave this evening, you will have until then to make sure the message is delivered and our position is understood. Then I will bring you back using another of mi Sorella's sketches, Si? You will have until evening, at the most." He paused, "If for some reason I cannot, remain there, keep out of sight, and we will get you. Capisci?"

He turned to Vincenzo, one eyebrow rising as he did so. "Where are you going, Zito? You'll make the guests nervous wearing so much obvious steel." Niccolo checked desk drawers, and then got to his feet again. "Scusi." He returned to Petra's bedroom, and passed the curtain into her closet. He paused, and cursed at the size of the place, and walked in, scanning the clothes until he found what he wanted on his way out with her belts. "Belts. As if it were an accessory." He found the scabbard for the sword he'd found, and returned to the office adjusting and belting on the swordbelt. He picked up the Etruscan blade, and sheathed it at his left hip. Niccolo then pulled Alex aside, and quietly informed him of everything he was to tell their friends, covering what the man surely knew, and what the man could not possibly know. "It is not important that you understand everything, Alex, only that you remember everything to say, Si?"

Niccolo looked to both then, and picked up the card, and focused on it. "Alex, you go first. Try to loiter around where you arrive, I will try this for retrieval first. Move through when the gate is open, I do not want to hold it for long." He paused, "Then we fetch Ornella home."

Alex, who might have done something similar before, took one of Niccolo's hands.

The trump quickened into life - Ornella placed her head in her hands, whimpering. Behind her was a comfortably furnished apartment; through the window, the night sky was lit with flames. From this angle, no-one else could be seen.

Niccolo held the contact open, "Ornella, I am Zito d'Medici. My sister, Petra, she has asked me to fetch you home." He did his best to cause Ornella as little pain as possible, and extended his hand. "Take my hand, you must return to the Queen. Bring the Child. Hurry."

Ornella nodded, and half turned. There he could see that the room was almost filled with frightened people. They seemed, from their appearance, to be the sort of poor but respectable Amberites who lived and worked in the lower city.

Ornella turned back.

"What about his mother, and his aunt?" she asked worriedly. "And all these people who've taken refuge here from the riot? I know Madame would wish me to see them safe."

Niccolo glanced back to Vincenzo,"We're about to have several more guests, thanks to the riots. Get to my office, and have Aura and Marcello meet you there. Alex and I are going through to Ornella. From there I will open the way to my Office, it will be easier than making Ornella bear the weight of the contact for so long." He paused, "And Natasha, she can search for weapons and take them for safe keeping, as per our usual rules." Niccolo waited a beat, to make sure Vincenzo got the message, and then stepped through to Ornella's side of the contact. "Alex, organize them into a line, check for obvious weapons. We'll be more thorough on the Queen."

He turned to the group as Alex stepped away, and Niccolo took Ornella's hand. "Ornella has arranged for your safe passage, but you must do as we ask, quietly and swiftly. Alex is here to help, if you are armed, it would be easier if you disarmed now. No one but the staff is armed on the Queen, and there will be no exceptions." Niccolo waited, counting in his mind how long it would take for Vincenzo to reach his office, before he drew out that card and attempted the connection.

A confused babble arose in the room. Ornella seemed to wince at every sound and was in no condition to help, but Alex moved around the room speaking with soothing authority. By the time Nicco judged it worth opening the connection to Vincenzo, he realised there were about thirty people crammed into the room, mostly women and children.

Just as he judged the time was about ready, there was a thunderous knock on the door to the street down below.

Niccolo considered which force might be able to react to the crisis swiftly, and in force. The local Watch seemed unlikely, and the Military had already been mobilized. The idea of letting these women and children come under the questionable care of either local constabulary or occupying soldiers did not sit well with the Cornaran banker. He turned to Alex and whispered, "Keep them quiet, and get them ready." He put the card away for a moment, and without bothering to disguise the display, picked up the couch and did his best to wedge it between the steps leading down to the door, and the door itself, preventing it from opening. Then he dashed back up the steps, and pulled out his Trump. "It won't hold them for long if they decide they must come in. Now hurry."

He pushed for the connection, attempting to make it as quickly as he was able, and as soon as it was wide enough to allow anyone through, began to get the refugees moving.

The people fled across in a narrow, panicked stream. Down below, there was a creaking as though the sofa was coming under considerable pressure - and then a voice shouted: "Ornella! It's me, Dawn! Let us in!"

Dawn. Niccolo had been informed about that one. He turned to Ornella with a hard look and raised a silencing finger to his lips, before he softly asked, "Is Dawn expected?" He heard the creak from the furniture, and raised an eyebrow. "She is clearly not alone." His voice was distant, as he kept the connection open. "Alex? Vincenzo and our people can help now. Check through a window, but do not be seen." Niccolo turned to Ornella, though his eyes did not quite focus on her, he was clearly waiting for an answer.

Alex moved over to the window, and glanced down. "Dawn right enough," he said. "And she's got that scrawny fish fryer from Fat Jack's with her. And half a dozen kids."

Ornella was nodding at him. "I sent one of the boys here with word to her - to gather as many as she could and to come here."

A string of creative Cornaran curses were being muttered under Niccolo's breath as he stopped the line of refugees from moving by stepping in the way. He shook his head and looked through the contact, telling the next person in line. "Tell the distinguished fellow on the other side that the connection will resume in a moment. I have to move some furniture." He let that next person through, and their child if they had one, and dropped the Trump connection. "Ornella, you might have mentioned this when you were telling us we could not leave these people behind."

He turned to Alex, "Be wary. Dawn belongs to Vikund remember, and she'll not be allowed free movement on the Queen." Niccolo glanced to Ornella, "Tell me if there are any more surprises when I return." He moved down to the sofa, and with more effort than it took to place, yanked it free and cleared the door, pulling it to the top of the stairs that led down to the street. "Enter! And be quick! Lock the door behind you." The Queen could not support all of Amber, even if they were taken somewhere to resupply, he could not save the City entire from its most recent disaster.

The children came hurrying in through the door, clearly under instructions to do so the instant the door opened, but the two adults, Dawn and Phil Squid, hung back.

"We can do more good out here," said Dawn. Phil Squid, staring at Niccolo, gave a quick nod of confirmation.

"Who are you?" Dawn asked worriedly. She looked as though she might dart in and grab the children back.

"Salvation." Niccolo answered, "Zito Niccolo d'Medici, Petra's business advisor. I'm afraid in the Marchessa's absence, my role has become more hands on." He raised an eyebrow. "And you are Dawn, Anansi's Doctor."

Dawn coloured, but gave a quick nod.

"Understand that when we leave this place, we will not be back. The children will be cared for, and sheltered aboard the Queen, and this house will remain open to you, but I am taking everyone from this place." Niccolo eyed Dawn and Phil, "If you wish to get out of the City, now is your chance. I do not know when or if I will be back."

"We'll manage, Sir," said Phil Squid, blinking rapidly. He looked as though the first rioter he encountered would probably just march over him.

Dawn bit her lower lip, and then nodded again. "We'll manage."

He glanced to Alex, and gestured for him to arrange the children for the trip across. "At least close and mind the door while I get them out of here."

"We'll do that," agreed Dawn.

Inside, the children were all lined up now by Alex.

"Dawn!" shouted Ornella, as the door began to close on the other's pale, scared face ... and determined eyes.

Niccolo looked to Ornella, "She has made her decision. We have people to take care of, let us do so while she and that other fellow are watching the door." He produced his card, and again pressed to open the connection to his office, in order to hopefully usher everyone through this time. "Ornella, when you get through, wait with Vincenzo in my office. Alex, you stay with me. There is one more thing that you must do for Petra, Si?"

"Si," agreed Alex, looking a little mystified.

Ornella herded the last of the children through and followed through the connection, leaving Alex alone with Niccolo.

Niccolo put away his office card, and showed Alex the other card Petra had left for him. "Prepare yourself. You will have until this evening, I will contact you directly to bring you home." He nodded, "Remember, no mention of me, save that I am recently arrived from Cornaro. And that, only if asked, Si?" With that, he focused on the card to send Alex on his errand.

Alex looked a little apprehensive, but nodded - and then was gone in a haze of rainbow light, leaving Niccolo alone. He could, however, hear voices in the street outside.

Niccolo considered his options for a moment, as he did so, he moved carefully to the window, doing his best not to be seen. He reached into his pocket again, and pulled out the card that would take him back to his Office on The Ramblin' Queen. There was work there yet to do, in order to grant everyone aboard the boat a measure of safety in a place that had become suddenly far more dangerous than it was. Niccolo held the card in his hand, as he checked on the street below.

There were five men out there, arguing noisily. If Phil Squid and Dawn were there, they had concealed themselves.

Finally the men moved away, arguing noisily among themselves.

Niccolo shook his head, and then focused on the card that would take him to his Office on the Queen. There were refugees to settle in, and he had to get the Boat to safety. Then he could run his own errand, hopefully before nightfall.

When he returned to the Queen, Vincenzo seemed to have everything in hand. But he also, it was clear, was hoping for a report on the situation in Amber.

Niccolo raked his hand through his hair, and went to pour himself and Vincenzo a drink, "Well, part of the City is -- a fuoco. I could see it through the windows. The streets are mostly empty, but there were a few stragglers looking for the mob. Ornella gathered women and children, Dawn and Phil are working to get others to that house, I brought everyone I could. Some of these children may be orphans before this is all done." He finished his drink in one toss of his head. "I am moving the Queen from here shortly. Not to Port Bayle either, Petralina advises Persa -- I am forced to agree at this point."

He sat upon his desk, "It is not safe for our people here. All the coming and going makes the Queen a potential target." Niccolo shook his head, "Which of our Persan guests is the most prominent?"

Vincenzo did not even have to look at the list; which he could have recited from memory anyway. "Balish Mehrak bin Sardar bin Khaldūn. Sultan of the Southern Reaches. The Sultan, he is a long time friend of the Caliph, and knows Petra personally." He smirked. "Also, he has a weakness for redheads, Atlanteans and Baccarat."

"Excellent. Invite him to see me, explain along the way just whom Zito d'Medici is. It will help if he knows I am more than just Petra's associate, Si?" Niccolo poured another drink. "Alex is safely away on his errand. I will bring him back before I leave the Queen." He drank a reasonable mouthful of the grappa, and added, "The Sultan can put us in touch with the Caliph when we arrive."

Vincenzo nodded, and then disappeared. After a few minutes there was a knock on the door. It was one of the Sultan's body slaves, mutely signaling that his master was approaching.

Niccolo got to his feet, and poured two glasses of grappa. He found his good cigars, and held one in his hand, planning to offer it to the Sultan. He had the notion that wearing a blade might not make for the best impression, but the situation was dire, and that had to be communicated as well. He walked around his desk, and opened the door. "Thank you." He said to the slave, keeping the distaste for the very notion of slavery off of his face. "You may show your master in as soon as he arrives."

The slave backed away hastily, murmuring his acquiescence, and the Sultan swept in with an alacrity that suggested he had always been very close behind.

"A thousand greetings!" he said with urbane politeness. "And to what do I, your most humble servant, owe the please of this most auspicious meeting?"

Niccolo smiled slightly that the Sultan's manner, and nodded in greeting. "Thank you for coming, Sultan Balish Mehrak bin Sardar bin Khaldūn, I am very pleased to meet you." He offered his right hand, "I understand that you are an honored and frequent guest, and a friend of Petra's. I fear I must prevail upon that friendship, and ask a favor of you." Niccolo paused, "Are you aware that we have been turned from Amber's Harbor?"

"I was aware our direction had changed," said the Sultan. "I was unclear as to the reason for it although, as you doubtless realise, there is much speculation at the moment in the salons. Has there been a coup? Is it connected with the enchanting aerial display we saw earlier?"

"Oh, I am quite sure that speculations, and wagers, are running rampant." Niccolo picked up a drink, offered it to the Sultan, and gestured at one of the comfortable chairs in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat."

He leaned against the front edge of the desk, rather than put a desk between them or trying to sit with a sword at his hip. "There has not been a coup, at least not yet. The answer to your last is both yes and no. There is a riot in the City, and fires, Amber's officials and constabularies turned many ships away." Niccolo paused, "So, I intend to take us somewhere safe for the interim The Queen is not a deep water vessel, and while we can accommodate all of our guests for an extended period, all wells run dry. I will be taking us to Persa, I asked you here to help me decide which would be the friendliest harbor -- so that you might contact the Caliph on our behalf."

The Sultan's eyebrows lifted.

"That would be a considerable voyage for this delightful vessel, dear sir," he said slowly. "Unless you have the arcane means to make it possible. And once you arrive, there would be problems. Cultural ... difficulties. In my land, it is not possible for women to operate with the freedom enjoyed by the delightful ladies of the Queen. Women must be under the protection of men - as wives, daughters, sisters ... or as slaves. And women who occupy the positions your lovely ladies do here on the Queen will be regarded as slaves or - if their is no man able to claim them as his own - will run the risk of being seized as slaves. If you do not believe me, ask the Lady Petra's latest and loveliest acquisition ... the girl Zarina."

"I have no reason to consider you either a liar or prone to exaggeration, quite the opposite, in fact." Niccolo eyed the man for a moment. "The Ramblin' Queen is my household. Would they not then, all of them, save for my Male retainers, be considered my slaves? I can assure you that any attempt to seize any of my people would be unfortunate for the miscreant that made the effort."

He paused, "Though we have taken on a number of refugees, women and children, and I can already see where they would be an issue. Sultan, this Boat must have a safe harbor, if only to resupply and set sail once again. I am certain that the Caliph would allow us that much, if we could but get the message to him of our arrival." Niccolo raised an eyebrow, "I am also certain that I can make it a lucrative alliance, if not for yourself, than for the Caliph."

The Sultan bowed in gracious acquiescence. "It would certainly be possible for you to hold all of these delightful creatures as your slaves. If you will permit, I will have my own secretary draw up the necessary legal paperwork that will place them under your ... shall we say 'protection'? As for the refugees, do they not form family units? Arrangements would have to be made for any unattended females, but no-one could have a higher respect for the family unit than the people of Persa. And that being arranged, believe, most honoured Sir, all harbours will be safe."

Niccolo smiled slightly, "That would be very kind of you, Sultan. I will make certain Petra hears of your helpfulness." He paused, "Would it be more probable if the Ladies were under the protection, legally speaking, of members of my Male staff members. I would hate to appear too wealthy." He smiled more obviously this time, and continued. "Yes, they are in Family units, but it is primarily women and children. I am please to hear that you value Family as highly as we do in Cornaro, but let us take steps to assure their safety as well." He nodded, "All harbours being safe then, which would you choose for a vessel of this sort?"

"I would recommend Sidon," said the Sultan. The air there is unparalleled - swently perfumed by the sandalwood trees, and the roses spilling over the garden walls of the white houses on the hillside.

"It is also my home."

Niccolo smiled, "Well then, that is a likely place. I have done trade there, but nothing -- permanent." He nodded, "That should provide us with ample opportunity to purchase supplies. Will you be able to get word to the Caliph? I would not wish to cause offense by not informing him that Petra's boat has arrived in Persa." He regarded the man, his amethyst eyes alert. "Would you mind informing the other Persans? If they wish to disembark there, they are free to do so."

"As soon as our ship is in harbour, word will be carried to him by the swiftest means available," said the Sultan. "And I shall see that our people are informed. Do you have any idea of how long our voyage will take?"

"Not precisely, but not terribly long." Niccolo replied, "How long will it take for you to draw up the necessary documentation? If you need more males to show 'ownership,' you can coordinate with Vincenzo." He nodded, "Once you have started your part of things, I will begin to move us towards Persa."

"The more your hold yourself, the greater the respect you will be accorded," said the Sultan. "To hold so many fair ones will be seen as a sign of your power and influence - although Vincenzo should certainly have a couple too.

"The only thing that might strike Kashfans as a little dtrange is that you employ uncut males to guard them."

Niccolo considered all he'd heard for a moment, "Then arrange things so it is clear that Vincenzo is my second, the rest are mine." He smiled slightly, "Whom I employ to guard my property is my business? The curious are free to ask." He offered the Sultan one of his very fine Cornaran cigars, and inclined his head. "Your assistance will not be forgotten. Please continue, I will make the travel arrangements." He opened the door, to let the Sultan precede him.

"May a thousand stars light your route to Kashfa," said the Sultan, and then he withdrew.

Niccolo smiled until the man was out of sight, and then pinched the bridge of his nose. He called out, "Carmen!"

"Yes." The woman stepped through one of the suite doors where she had been waiting. Niccolo might have been surprised were he not so used to her efficiency.

"Did you hear?"

She smirked slightly, "Yes, I did."

"Very well, time to inform all the women that I am now their proud owner, and that Vincenzo is also a man of means." Niccolo shook his head.

"I'm certain they will be thrilled."

Niccolo made a face that only made her chuckle as he took the seat behind his desk. "Please find Antonia,Aura, and Janelle, and bring them here right away. I will explain the circumstances to them, and let them spread the word. Tell Vincenzo that our more -- intimate -- services are suspended until further notice. I cannot have my, our, property engaged with other men while we are in Persa." He poured himself another drink, pondering if Amber drove everyone to the bottle. "Anyone that complains too loudly should be reminded of their agreements, and that the swim home is much longer now."

Carmen's gaze flicked to the glass of grappa, and then back to Niccolo's purple eyes. "Anything else?"

He shook his head, "No, but lets make quick work of it. I still have to take us to Persa."

She nodded, and hustled out of the room to complete her task.

When the women arrived, Niccolo asked them all to take a seat, and close the door to his office. Carmen stood by his desk, lending her quiet support, and clearly curious as to how each of the ladies before them would take the news. Niccolo offered them each a drink, ending up serving them a bottle of one of the best wines he had brought with him from Cornaro. Finally, he leaned against the front of his desk, and regarded each woman for a moment, before he spoke.

The moment the door was closed, the masks dropped from all of them. The strain of the evening was clearly getting to them. Aura looked like she wanted nothing more then a hot bath and her bed; Antonia's eyes was a study in coiled tension, as if much more would unleash that legendary temper on whatever or whoever was near at hand-no exceptions. Janelle clearly had a headache if the tension around her eyes was any indication as she slumped down in her chair.

"You all must already know that we have been detoured from Amber. We cannot make berth, nor can we stay safely in the Bay." Niccolo opened with simple, and likely already known, facts. "I have spoken to Petra, and it was she that suggested Persa as a refuge. We need a place to go, where we can resupply, and where everyone aboard is safe from either the violence of the City of Amber, or the machinations of genocidal Dukes." He looked at each, to see if they understood things as they stood. "However, arrangements had to be made in order to secure the safety of all the women aboard, as well as the respect of Persan nobility and citizenry. For the duration of our stay in Persa, for appearances sake and on paper alone -- all of you will be listed as my Slaves."

Carmen cleared her throat.

"Save for those few that will be listed as 'belonging to Vincenzo'." Niccolo added, and fell silent to await the fallout.

Janelle closed her eyes and massaged her left temple. After a second she leaned away from Antonia's chair.

Aura gave him a puzzled look. "Why is this necessary? I have only been there with Petra and we Trumped straight to the palace of Nasir, but we were guests and this was never ...." She glanced at Antonia suddenly and was hardly surprised when the dark haired Cornaron hissed at Nicco.

"Che?" she asked dangerously. "Are you planning on parading us through town?"

"I do not think the weather will be appropriate for a parade." Niccolo eyed Antonia, for a moment and shook his head. This is not an arrangement I am enjoying, Antonia. I do not like the notion of Slaves, in any form, but I do not rule Persa, Si? In point of fact, I do not want anyone leaving the Queen unless absolutely necessary." He turned to Aura, "We are not Trumping to Persa. I must bring the Boat there by another means. Were it just the staff, this would not be an issue. In Persa, Women must be under the protection of Men. They must be Wives, Daughters, Sisters or Slaves. According to the Sultan, whom I have every reason to believe, the Ladies aboard the Queen would be regarded as slaves. If there was no one to claim them, we would be repelling boarders constantly as many would wish to abduct any one of you for their own." Niccolo took a breath, "It will also offer Vincenzo and I a measure of status that we can use when dealing with Persan officials and merchants. Word will be sent to Nasir, but I must take steps to safeguard our people."

Antonia snorted. She scowled darkly at Vincenzo as if he were somehow to blame for this current predicament they were in.

Niccolo regarded Antonia, "Would you prefer that I married you all?"

There would never be a more perfect human expression that just screamed "bitch please" then the one Antonia directed at Nicco.

"I've had worse offers," Aura shrugged. "Just yesterday, actually."

He paused, and looked to the heavens. "There is also one more thing."

"Of course," Antonia responded with great aggravation over the chorus of tired sighs from the other two.

"Where is Petra?" asked Janelle. "If the situation is bad enough that we are not docking in Amber, she should be here."

"Petra cannot be here, I would certainly prefer it if she were. She has been engaged by the Boy King to see to an urgent matter. She Trumped me and explained the contingencies in place. She suggested Persa, as your safety in Amber is no longer assured." Niccolo glanced to Vincenzo, and then back at the women. "This does not make it fact, it is a facade -- and one that must be convincing. I asked you three here to explain things to the others. Tell them as much as necessary, but make sure that they understand the seriousness of the matter. To any visitors from Persa, after we arrive, you all must seem to be mine and Vincenzo's, and content at that. The other men will be our staff and your guards Give no one an excuse to decide it would be worth the effort to kidnap any one of you." Niccolo frowned, "Please, do not make of this more than it is. Just do as I have asked. You know who I am, I own Banks, Si? Not people."

Niccolo turned to Vincenzo, "Tell the men, and when we arrive in Persa, remind me to check the cargo hold, I am going to try and provide some added security."

"Ladies, when Petra returns, I will be sure to explain to her, in great detail, the indignities you have suffered." Niccolo got to his feet, "Any questions?"

"Several," Antonia said sharply. "How long are we going to be in Persa? Some of us have been awake for the better part of two days, and while that, it is not a big thing for you or your sister, it is not how you want us having to deal with idiot Persan males."

"What about the guests currently on board?" Aura asked worriedly. "How does that fit in with this harem scenario?"

"After resupplying, I cannot guess how long. We will not linger in port, it will be safer to be on the water after we have what we need." Niccolo pressed his lips together for a moment, "Antonia, I did not ask for this hand of cards, Si? I am only playing them as best as I can." Niccolo replied, raising an eyebrow. "I understand that many of you have not gotten any rest, and that sleep will likely be elusive for some time to come. Your fire is one of your most charming aspects, but my own patience is not endless. I have not been playing bocce. The light show everyone was gasping over? Quello era me, provando a mantenere la barca dall'abbassamento e tutti noi da un'estremit� esplosiva.*" Niccolo's purple eyes met Antonia's gaze, "I know the situation is very far from ideal, but we will do our best, for Petra, if not for yourselves."

[*That was me, trying to keep the boat from sinking, and all of us from an explosive end.]

She was still irritated, but she waved a hand to show she understood. Like it or not.

He turned to Aura, "I have suspended the activities that would obviously be an issue. I hope that it will allow those of you that have not slept, to get some." Niccolo offered, "The Sultan will inform the Persans aboard, of which there are several, our Male staff members will be vigilant and especially firm. Anyone that is a potential problem will be confined to quarters, or made aware that swimming to Amber from where the Boat is now will not be easy. Our guests remain our guests, continue to show them hospitality, but do not allow them liberties. If you know of anyone that will cause a problem, tell Vincenzo now so we can preemptively handle the matter. I will make a demonstration if there is need, but I would rather avoid that if possible. With luck, we will not be in port long enough for there to be any holes poked in the disguise."

Aura nodded. "Alright."

Niccolo drank more grappa. "Anything else?"

Janelle stood up and rolled her shoulders. "Got it."

Aura stood smoothly. "I'm sure we can handle it."

Looking as if she were preparing for battle, Antonia stood as well. "Difficult people will be directed to Vincenzo, since I assume this charade means I cannot throw someone overboard myself." She smirked at Nicco as the three turned to leave. "Portia is going to make you pay through the nose for this."

"Si, I know." Niccolo replied to Antonia. "Perhaps she will be as understanding as all of you were." He glanced to Vincenzo and sighed. "I will be on deck, in the bow. Tell everyone to prepare for choppy water."

(Continued in Master and Slave)