Time Under Chaos | TimeUnderChaos / Treading on Hot Nails

Index | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | Treading on Hot Nails

Jurt dispatched a servant to find a carriage for them and turned to Morgan. "Assassination attempt?" he asked with more interest than he normally offered most any topic besides women.

"And send someone to my chambers for my sword," Morgan called after the departing servant.

"Let's head to the kitchens first," he said to Tear. "Even if he's not there, they all love him so much they'll be sure to know where he is."

"We should be able to hear his singing if he is," Tear said and then smiled at Tasha. "He. Sings for the kitchen staff. The ladies love it. Even though he's atrocious."

Tasha grinned in spite of her nervousness. She was looking forward to meeting Tanstaafl. She kept her arm firmly linked with Tear's, gaining comfort and a sense of balance from her friend. Tear knew where she was going and that gave Tasha a feeling of security amid the strange conversation. She tried to follow it as best she could.

As he began to lead them towards the kitches he answered Jurt's question, speaking loudly enough that all three of them could easily hear. "Johann staged an attack on Mandor this morning at the Ramblin' Queen's dock. Quite a coincidence that it was the first time Mandor had ever gone to the Queen. He was using pistols that fired in Amber, though strangely enough his every shot went wild. Speculation among the family is that Damien had suckered Johann into making the attempt at a time and place of Mandor's choosing, and that he's been working for Mandor for years now. Johann was clearly expecting Damien to provide backup, and instead he got a poisoned knife in the back. Johann's in a dungeon cell now. There's apparently going to be a trial, although why Mandor is going to the trouble is an open question. Oh, and Johann started a fire on the docks as a distraction, which isn't going to win him any sympathy with Amber's population. Setting the city on fire, no matter what your excuse, isn't forgiven."

Tear stiffened at the talk about assassination. With the wounds of her father's death now reopened, to hear that her surrogate father had been attacked immediately erased the anger she'd felt for him. She looked up at Morgan, "He seemed okay. Was there anyone hurt, Master Morgan? And the docks. Do they need help? I can heal people." Considering her disheveled appearance, she might need to help herself before assisting someone else.

Tasha felt Tear's response and looked at her with concern. If Tear were offering her assistance it was only appropriate, Tasha reasoned, to do the same, "I would like to help if they need... anything." What could she offer? She didn't know this city at all. Then she brightened, "I could help with repairs." Her little trick with the clothes wasn't the only thing she could manipulate.

She shook her head in disgust. "I knew he wrote such. Venomous things. But to harm the people of Amber just to get at the Master. That doesn't seem like something he would do."

Tear tugged on her ear as they rounded another corner, considering what had been said. She glanced between Jurt and Morgan, hesitant for a moment. Finally, she spoke once again. "Are you even sure it's Johann you have in the cell?"

"What suggests to you that it wouldn't be?" Jurt asked.

"History," Tear said, smiling bashfully. She tugged on her ear again, suddenly regretting having spoken. She was not politically mindful, after all. Or outspoken. She preferred to listen while others to talked about these larger issues. But something had changed in her since stepping into Chaos. It both scared and thrilled her at the same time.

Her eyes couldn't meet Jurt's as she expanded on her statement. "It just appears foolish for him to have acted so rashly. But what if that's what he wanted? Chaosians do not solely control the ability to change their forms. It would be easy enough to pretend to be Damien and get close to the Master. The attack would draw them even closer.

"It's been done before. Look at Oberon and Corwin. Or. Caine himself. What better way to open the doors of Amber than to take the key from its true watcher?"

Tear bit her bottom lip and began watching her bare feet as they walked. "I'm sorry. I'm not very. Skilled with all these. Politics."

Morgan snorted. "Yeah, well, for someone who isn't skilled in politics you've put your finger right on what bothers me about this whole thing. Johnny Boy's a radical, and I'm sure he'd be happy to kill to achieve his aim of a 'Free Amber,' but this whole thing was so badly thought out, with so much potential for collateral damage, that it's hard to believe." He shrugged. "Whatever. Luckily, all I have to do is make sure Merl actually shows up for Mandy's show trial."

Jurt gave Tear a considered look, but didn't comment anything more than Morgan had offered.

He turned to face Tear, and smiled suddenly. "And drop the 'Master Morgan' stuff," he added. "I''m sure that I've told you that before. If you feel like you have to use a title, I prefer 'Captain.' But for a friend, I don't require even that."

Tasha wondered if that meant that Tear was his friend, and if so, what then what she should call the gentleman? He seemed so informal. If he called Lord Mandor, Mandy, then Merl, she reasoned must be the King. She wondered how anyone would dare to call a King by a nickname. If he had so much power here, how was it that he was acting as escort for someone as unimportant as herself, even if she were with the Baroness.

"You seem to know his Highness quite well," Tasha ventured, curiously. "What is he like?"

Morgan smiled at her. "Merl's a nice guy," he assured her. "He likes to have a good time, and he's not as interested in the day-to-day running of Amber as his big brother. That's why the Prime Minister has been so kind as to take that burden off his hands. He's like that, our beloved Mandor, always willing to make the hard sacrifices for the greater good." He grinned at Jurt as he said this.

Jurt chuckled. "It runs in the family, you know."

Tear's nose wrinkled, but she withheld her comments regarding the Master for the time being. "I met the King once," she added. "He was. Jovial. I doubt he recalls the encounter, however. He was. Very—jovial—at the time."

Did Tear mean, drunk? Certainly not...? Tasha frowned. That wasn't the picture she had of a monarch at all. And did Morgan really mean what he implied? Did Merlin really leave the running of Amber totally in Mandor's hands? She looked at Jurt and wondered what his role was. She couldn't imagine a king really not caring about his own kingdom. Certainly there had to be more to this story than that he found it tedious.

By now they had reached the kitchens and a shy young maid pointed the way to a huddled knot of assembled cooks, bottlewashers and allied trades, who had gathered around a table more usually used for the prepartion of vegetables. Now a cushion of red ilk had been place and upon this reposed Tanstaafl, interrupting a monologue that seemingly held his audience enraptured with occasional mouthfuls of a chicken dish set out before him, artfully arranged on sweet green leaves and merely drizzled with marrowbone jelly.

"…and Prince Bleys, being a man of some common sense, if not wisdom, decided he had best hire me on as his Royal Stylist. The man can't carry off a fashionable color scheme if you sewed it too his dimply arse. But I had to turn him down. I mean, I need some basic materials to start off with. I'm not a miracle worker you know. I know a lost cause when I see one."

He smacked his chops gleefully, "And Trisha? This jelly is purely to die for. If you ever need me to—you know—give you some one-on-one fashion advice too, I'm sure we can arrange some privat..."

"Behold!" Morgan intoned in a deep voice. "His Lordship at his leisure, his courtiers in attendance. Bow your heads, oh kings and queens of the universe! Abase yourselves, oh Lords and Ladies of Chaos and of Order! For herein dwells true nobility! Here is shown true grace and might! Tremble before his countenance! Love him, fear him, and obey!"

Jurt leaned in toward Tasha to add in conspiratorial tone, "Or at least keep your fingers away from his snackies."

Tasha tried to hide a giggle behind her hand. But in all, Morgan's description seemed apt. The little "Lord Fuzzy" did seem to be lording it over all the servants in the kitchen. And he was adorable.

Tasntaafl raised his ears at Morgan's call, turning his pointed head in there direction. His eyes glittered when he saw Tear and in a flash of fur he bound from the table. He bolted across the kitchen floor and leapt into her arms; nearly knocking her over. He yipped and licked and whimpered like a pup returning to its mother's embrace. She hugged him fiercely, wetting his fur with her tears.

A moment later, he raised his head and examined her with a critical expression. "You look like crap."

"Thanks," Tear said, hugging him again. "I'm glad to see you too."

He grumbled, nuzzling into her chest. "You. Are. NEVER. Leaving me. AGAIN."

Tantassfl gestured at Morgan with his nose, "This one's been abusing me since you left and… well, heh-low, and who might this lovely lady be?" Tasha had caught his eye and now he stared up at her with big, cute, adorable eyes.

Tasha melted. "Oh, Tear! Can I hold him, please? Oh isn't he the cutest, little darling, ever!" Tasha gushed.

Tear chuckled softly, nuzzling into Tan's fur. "I don't think I have a choice," she said. "You called him 'cute.' Now you'll never get rid of him."

Tanstaafl beamed proudly; a very odd expression for a canine. "Yes. Yes she did. It perfectly demonstrates her refined taste in men. Now pass me over!"

The young sorceress hefted the rotund ball of fur into Tasha's waiting arms. He snuggled into her chest with lecherous guile, wrapping his tail around her waist. With his muzzle resting upon Tasha's bosom, the furred creature batted his thick eyelashes and stared into her eyes. "I usually don't go for the heavy petting on the first encounter, but I'm willing to make an exception with you, Lovely." He sniffed the air and then raised his ears curiously. "Oooo… and you smell good too."

Tasha laughed at the strange compliment and cuddled the soft fluffy creature close.

"Tasha, this is Tanstaafl," Tear said, reaching over to scratch his ear. "Tanstaafl, this is Tasha Minobee. She'll be staying with us for awhile. So behave."

His tail began to thump against Tasha's side, "Staying with us? Tear. If you keep bringing home souvenirs as beautiful as this, you need to leave more often. How about now? So, the lady and I can get... better acquainted."

Morgan sighed. "There's gratitude for you," he complained to no one in particular. "Send him a selection of some of the best foods available in all of Amber, make sure he's kept entertained, talk up his cleverness to everyone who'll listen, and what do I get? Claims of abuse, and then he sets about stealing away the attention of all the lovely ladies in the vicinity. I don't know why I bother, sometimes. Honestly, I don't."

"Are we still talking about Tanstaasfl or are we talking about Merle now?" Jurt smirked.

Tear covered her mouth at Jurt's comment, trying not to laugh. Despite herself, she rather enjoyed his wry wit. At least one of the brothers had a sense of humor. She glanced up at Morgan and smiled, "Thank you for taking care of him. I know he can be. Tiresome." She touched his arm, resting her hand upon his.

Tanstaafl, enraptured with his current Cuddle-Bunny, lazily turned his head to Morgan. "Okay. True. You've been a true gentleman. A king amongst men. Later, we can discuss the staff members currently interested in your—how did they put it? 'Perfectly sculpted arse.' I've paved the way for you. All you have to do is smile and make those weird, yet endearing, grunty noises."

Morgan smiled a self-satisfied smile.

His ears curled back for a moment, "And maybe we can discuss other issues around the same time?" He gestured with his nose toward Tear. The sorceress in question stared back at Tanstaafl, confused. Her violet eyes sought Morgan's, questioning and shy.

Morgan's smiled remained, but his eyes narrowed, and he nodded. "Yeah," he said. "That would be a good idea."

Tasha felt her cheeks redden at the thoughts that came unbidden, and she stole a glance at Jurt, wondering. Her mother had been so insistent that she learn all she could about Merlin... But these two didn't seem to have a very high opinion of the king.

Safer to talk to Tanstaafl. "So, will you be so disappointed if we take you away from all of this?" Tasha asked.

"Not as long as you keep rubbing my belly like that," Tanstaafl sighed contentedly. "Oh please, Tear. Can we keep her?"

Tasha smiled shyly at her friend and then gave Tanstaafl and hug, rubbing her nose to his. Why she did that she wasn't sure, but it had seemed perfectly natural.

Tanstaafl laughed and returned the nose rubbing; although his nose was considerably closer and wetter. He rested his head upon her chest and let out a contented grunt of fennec satisfaction.

"That's really up to her, I suppose," Tear smiled. She lightly patted Morgan's arm. "I have a nice bottle of Barbancourt at home, Captain. Maybe you and Master Jurt would like to join us for lunch? Or dinner. I'm not sure what time it is here. Feels like the afternoon. But I could cook for you all. And then you can tell us what's happened here."

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Morgan agreed. "Jurt? There's still more I need to talk to you about, and a nice late lunch or early dinner sounds like a good idea. We'll need it, to survive tonight's supper."

Tasha worried if the supper would be anything like Despil's and also agreed that something at Tear's would probably be a wise decision. "And I would love to change...." She frowned at the party dress her mother had insisted that she wear.

Tear bobbed her head, "Your things should arrive around the same time as us. So you can change then. And if not. I have things you can wear. I don't. Want to go to this dinner. But I guess I should." A defeated sigh passed over her teeth. She drew closer to Morgan, smiling up at him as they walked.

Jurt offered a casual nod of approval, taking Tasha's arm and turning her and Tanstaafl toward the quickest way to the Grand Stair and the carriage that he expected to be waiting.

"Time's odd back home, Morg," he commented. "How long have Tear and I been gone?"

Morgan laughed. "You're asking me?" he said. "I hadn't even noticed you were gone. And I thought she was still here." He smiled at Tear. "I even sent the Appetite that Walks Like A Fox some treats last night, care of her. I'm glad the restaurant was able to deliver them despite that. I must remember to compliment them on their efficiency."

"I'm sure they'll be most grateful, Captain," Tear said. "Thank you for watching out for him. I was surprised that he got away from Larissa. She usually keeps him on a tight leash." Tanstaafl snorted, but was too content to comment. She ignored him and continued to focus her silent attentions on her escort.

Tasha stared around her wide-eyed. She hadn't really paid much attention the kitchen, finding Tanstaafl much more intriguing at the time, but she had noticed how large everything was. They passed servants—human servants, Tasha noted with mild surprise— who curtsied or bowed at the small group. And soon they were at the Grand Stair and Tasha looked all around her in amazement. "I'm really not in Chaos anymore."

"Now you know how I felt in your realm," Tear said with a gentle smile. "Wait until you see the city itself. And then Rebma. Oh, I'll have to take you on a weekend there. Just us girls. And we can invite Helena and Amba too. I'm sure they'd like some. Umm. Private time together away from her father."

As they descended the Stair, Tear held onto Morgan's arm more tightly. "So. Captain. How are people. Taking this attempt on the Master's life? Is there danger of another attack? Or reprisals?"

Jurt offered Tasha a hand up into the carriage and then joined her, taking the seat beside her. He seemed interested in Morgan's appraisal of the current dangers and didn't interrupt.

Tasha smiled a thanks at Jurt, her hand lingering in his a moment longer than was necessary to get into the carriage. She could feel the heat radiating from him as he sat next to her, and she had to suppress an urge to run a hand along his thigh. What in the universe was she thinking? She drew her concentration back to the conversation of the moment.

Tanstaafl raised his head for a moment, glancing between the pair as they had their 'moment.' His black nose twitched and eyes narrowed. Tasha's appealing, and somehow recognizable, scent had stirred his more primal nature. As it intensified, the feral passion began to dull his logical demeanor. When Tasha sat down, he stood up in her lap and overtly cast his bristle-brush tail over the cut of her dress in order to block the men's view of what lay beneath. The little-fox-who-thought-himself-a-wolf began to stare directly at Jurt, amber eyes unblinking; a hint of teeth showing in his none-too-friendly grin.

Jurt bared his teeth in the returning grin, clearly not backing down.

To his credit Tanstaafl didn't either. Not at the start anyway. He tried to stare Jurt down for a moment, but when that didn't work, the jealous fennec tried a new tactic. He smiled coyly and lay down in Tasha lap, rubbing his head against her hand before rolling over to have his tummy scratched. He made sure that his butt pointed directly in Jurt's direction. The adorability factor began to intensify as he wriggled and nuzzled shamelessly against his new 'acquisition.'

Morgan accepted a sword and dagger from a waiting servant with a nod and a murmured, "Thanks, Wil." He held them in one hand as he assisted Tear into the carriage, told the driver, "The Baroness's home, if you please," then slid in next to her.

"Haven't the faintest idea about the public reaction to the attack," he answered cheerfully. "It was all just this morning, you know, and there has been a lot going on since then. I can't imagine there's much support among anyone but the hard-core rebel faction, though. Setting off fires in the businesses of average citizens, and burning down half the dock, wasn't the single most brilliant way to carry a political point."

"No, but why would anyone think that something as ill-planned as that would succeed? Do you think it was just a ploy, as Tear suggests? A plan to draw attention away from the true threat?" Tasha leaned forward to regard Morgan, earnestly.

Tear made room for Morgan and then lay her hand over his. She appeared so small beside him, little more than a child; an illusion heightened by her simple dress. "Tan," she coughed, noticing how her companion was behaving. He ignored her. She sighed and focused on the conversation instead.

"Well, I guess that's a good thing," Tear said. "At least the violence shouldn't spread too much. So terrible though. Those poor people."

"And Goran," Tanstaafl said, without averting his gaze.

"What about Goran?"

"Johann shot him," Tanstaafl chimed. "Oh. And we're out of cream at the house. You may want to stop along the way."

"What?! Goran? Is he okay? Please tell me he's alright!" Tear gripped Morgan's hand, her eyes wide and pleading.

Morgan held her hand and smiled down at her. "Well enough that he was letting me order him around earlier without complaint," he answered easily. "He drove Merl and me back from the dock after the attack, and seemed just fine. No signs of wavering on his feet, no slurred speech, no staggering. Come to think of it, he looked a lot better than I usually do."

"Not something to discuss in front of ladies," Jurt prefaced even as he plowed on, "But what was Mandor doing dockside? It didn't think he frequented...the docks."

Tear gazed up into Morgans eyes, "You're? You're sure he's okay? You'd tell me if he wasn't. Right?"

She sighed deeply and rested her head against his arm. Opulent buildings and streets began to pass by outside as the carriage descended Kolvir into the city proper. "Everything has gotten so confusing. So much has happened today. And I don't understand half of it. Thank you, Captain. For coming to my home. I suddenly feel the need to have as much company as possible. But not to be a hostess."

Tear raised her head again and blinked. "This happened at the Queen, didn't it?"

Morgan shifted in his seat, slipping his arm around Tear's shoulder. "Mandor had spent the night on the Queen," he said. "Now that was quite a shock to everyone. Johann made his attempt the next morning. What's the likelihood that he'd just happen to be laying in wait on the one morning that Mandy was on that particular dock? Just one more reason we're all convinced it was a set up of Johnny Boy. Goran was on the dock, but, strangely, he wasn't really in the line of fire. So how he got shot is an open question. Me, I subscribe to the idea that either Mandy or Mister Backstab was doing some kind of sorcery to make sure the bullets didn't hit their target, and wasn't that concerned about who might be hit instead."

Tear listened to this intently, but remained silent after Morgan had finished. She lightly tugged on her ear; deep in thought.

Tasha looked from one to the other, unable to follow half of the conversation. She contented herself with scratching the adorable Tanstaafl and surreptitiously moving closer to Jurt at the same time. She didn't know the people they were discussing: Goran, Johann—was that also Johnny Boy? The Queen; she was sure Merlin wasn't married, so who was that? And who was Mister Backstab? Was that the man whom they'd met briefly in the throne room? What was his name again? Dam.. Something. She giggled at the shortening of the name and blushed when the others glanced at her. What they'd been discussing was flying bullets hitting innocent people, and giggling had certainly been inappropriate. She nodded to Tanstaafl as if he were the reason for her giggle and offered a shy smile. Too many names and too little time to digest it all.

The carriage was drawing to a halt. It appeared that they had arrived...somewhere.

They'd arrived at a two-story home surrounded by wrought iron and brick fence. Wisteria and bougainvillea climbed over everything, obscuring the courtyard beyond with a wall of green and vibrant purples. When the group exited the carriage, they could see a leafy archway led into a rounded patio with Spanish tiling and mosaic designs. An arbor with a little swing seat and some chairs overlooked a burbling fountain of alabaster. The house itself possessed both Spanish Colonial and French influences, accented by a prolific growth of colorful cannas. A small brick path led around the house; its heavy overgrowth trimmed back fashionably. A fragrant scent of sage, rosemary and olives filled the air.

"Welcome to my home," Tear said, still holding Morgan's arm. "The guest house is in the back. Across from the garden. You can reach it down that path. So you can come and go with a little privacy."

Tanstaafl leapt out of Tasha's arms and disappeared through a swinging door, covertly place near the main entrance. A moment later, the gabled front door swung open and he poked his head out. "You lot coming in or what?"

(continued in Five Corners - Tasha and Tanstaafl) (continued in Tea Party at Five Corners)

Treading on Hot Nails - Morgan, Tasha, Tear, Jurt