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Index | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | You Only Live Once

He'd been living in Amber City for almost a month now, but Claudio was still fascinated by the sky. It was so different from the cycling colors of Chaos; yet it had a complicated rhythm all its own, overlaid by the shifting obbligato of cloud and wind and weather.

As he clattered down the outside stairs from his top-floor flat in the Rue Jardin, in his quick, syncopated triple-time of unequal legs and walking stick, the blue of afternoon was beginning to shade into the gold of evening. The ship left the dock at sunset; he'd better hurry. Up till now he'd conducted most of his explorations of the city on foot, but just this once he'd hail a cab.

Just this once. Claudio didn't expect to be a frequent visitor to the Ramblin' Queen, Amber's legendary floating pleasure palace. The fee for the night's entertainment, payable in advance, had taken a largeish bite out of his savings. But he'd heard so much about the Queen, even back in the Courts. After he had been recommended, and had received an invitation from Petra Rossi, the proprietress (along with much useful information), he couldn't pass up the chance to experience it for himself.

The hackney carriage left him off at the dock as the sky began to turn orange and red. Claudio tipped the driver handsomely before sending him off. He stood for a moment to take in the sight of the looming, many-decked vessel, twinkling with lights. Then he took a deep breath and set off for the foot of the gangplank. He missed the weight of the artist's satchel on his shoulder... but he was off duty tonight, he told himself firmly (ignoring for the moment the presence of a small sketchbook and pencil tucked into an inner pocket of his evening coat). This was a night to be enjoyed to the fullest, one of life's opportunities that might not come around again.

He was met at the pier by one tall, and broad shouldered man of Cornaro armed with crossbow and sword, and a slighter, swarthy skinned fellow, with a rapier at his hip, and bearing a clipboard, that moved and was built like a duelist. He politely checked the reservation list, and upon finding the name of one Claudio Barimen, cheerfully waved him past.

The slight Claudio had to look up at both men, but accorded them both a smile as he stepped on to the gangplank.

At the top of the gangplank - to one side, stood a tall, older gentleman in a dark suit and red tie, with sharp dark eyes, keeping watch over the proceedings. Claudio could deduce from the information packet he had received that the man was Vincenzo diBeneditto, Chief of Security for the Ramblin' Queen and another native of Cornaro. Not being the talkative sort, Vincenzo nodded as he neared, but notably greeted him by name in a voice smooth and rich as the finest of dark chocolates.

"Signor Barimen. Welcome aboard."

"Thank you, Signor diBeneditto," Claudio responded, with a polite inclination of the head in return. Clear grey eyes studied Vincenzo briefly, but their expression was one of curiosity rather than wariness, and they soon turned away to take stock of his surroundings as he stepped on to the deck of the Queen.

Polished wood decks, shining brass lamps on clean and recently painted walls that were dotted with the occasional stained glass window among the regular windows were about all there was to see outside. Though he could see at the far end of the deck what he could safely decide was another member of security watching the dockside.

He'd heard rumors on the street today of some kind of disturbance on the docks this morning -- an explosion, was it? -- so Claudio wasn't surprised that the Queen's security was extra alert.

The real treasures were inside, through the open double doors that led to an elegant carpeted hallway that he could tell led to stairs that would take him to the large open main floor from which he could already hear the sounds of a jazz quartet and light laughter.

Attracted to the sounds of conviviality like a bee to a flower, Claudio headed for the stairs.

The main lounge spread out before him. The crystal chandelier reflected the colors of the sunset that streamed through the large stained glass window set high in the far wall and sent them flitting about the upper walls like bright butterflies. Beautiful women in beaded gowns, and equally beautiful men in elegant suits moved through the visiting nobles and dignitaries. Near the back corner, across from the main bar, were the arrangement of musicians playing at just the right volume to be heard, but not to overpower conversations -- bass, piano, clarinet, and drums.

It reminded Claudio of some of the better parties he had attended at the Imperial Court, but the atmosphere here was subtly different. He thought about what the difference was as he descended the stairs. There was an excitement in the air, perhaps even a certain tension, but not the underlying anxiety of people on display, people constantly eyeing their neighbors in an attempt to gauge what kind of an impression they themselves were making. Oh, no doubt there were contacts being made here, of various kinds, but that was secondary. People primarily came here to enjoy themselves.

The main floor alone had enough art, beauty, conversation, alcohol, and music to keep one entertained all night.

At the base of the stairs stood a leggy brunette, with dusky skin and dark eyes, greeting the guests. Dressed in a beaded halter style gown of dark red, her white smile was gracious as she chatted briefly with each person coming on down the stairs before sending them off to find their amusements.

Claudio let himself appreciate the grace of her form as he reached the foot of the stairs, before catching the lady's eye and making her a brief bow. "Good tur-- That is, good evening."

Dark eyes flashing, the woman smiled, recognizing him from the briefing easily. "Buona rotazione, Signore Barimen. Welcome to the Ramblin' Queen. I am Antonia, the hostess for the evening. I hope all is well with you?"

"Well, and all the better for being surrounded by so much beauty," Claudio responded with a smile. His gaze turned upward to the stained glass window with its crisp, bold, yet graceful lines. "Tell me, where does that come from? The style is ... striking, to say the least."

Antonia's eyes drifted up at the window, even though she knew what he meant. "It was made locally, actually. But the style is based on a gentleman I am told lived on Shadow Earth. A Louis Comfort Tiffany, as I recall. The Marchesa, she is rather fond of the art. You will find several more touches of it around the ship."

"Thank you. I shall have to look for them," said Claudio.

Antonia's smile was pleased as she turned back to him. "Have you thought of where you would like to start this evening, Signore? If you would just like to see where events take you, that is certainly all right. But if I may be so bold as to make a suggestion?"

"I am always open to suggestion, Signora," said Claudio, an impish twinkle surfacing in his grey eyes.

She gave him a sly wink and turned away to wave over one of the other girls. Long dark hair flowed in shining waves over the shoulders of the golden eyed, ripe lipped young woman in a strapless gown of hunter green that moved regally across the floor in response.

"Signore," Antonia smiled, and gestured slightly with one red nailed hand. "This is Allegra Ricci, our resident linguist. But she also knows the Queen very well, and, I think, will be excellent company for you this evening while you enjoy our offerings."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Signora Ricci," said Claudio, bowing.

"Please," she smiled. "Just Allegra."

"Allegra, Signore Claudio Barimen," Antonia finished smoothly. She stepped away to greet another guest, but was close enough to step in should Claudio prefer other company.

Allegra smiled a wide, friendly smile. "A pleasure, Signore."

Claudio offered her his arm (the one not occupied with the walking stick), and at the same time tilted his head toward the bar. Returning her smile, he remarked, "I'm afraid I won't offer much scope for your linguistic talent, Allegra, since I have not yet traveled enough to acquire multiple languages. Do you have visitors from many Shadows here?"

"Oh, si," she assured him as she led them towards the bar. "If they can get to Amber, they come to see us. Those who have someone to speak for them. From all over the Golden circle. How are you with accents?" She smiled wryly.

He shook his head, his smile turning a touch rueful. "I have not the ear for them, though my sisters do."

"More's the pity," she sighed. "To get them right is difficult when you only have the book. Claudio... do you mind if I call you Claudio?"

"Please do."

"Where have you traveled?"

His grey eyes took on an impish gleam. "Why, from one end of the Universe to the other! It is only that I neglected to make any stops along the way."

"Have you really?" she responded with delight. "I don't suppose you can translate Ancient Thari, can you? I have been trying to teach myself the language - because, as you can imagine - once you learn the root language, the rest are much easier."

"I read it, though slowly," he said. "A lot of the older scholarly texts are written in it. The pronunciation has changed more than the syntax or morphology, so once you figure out the sound shifts, it goes faster."

Allegra had a gleam in her eye. One that might have frightened someone else. But Claudio would recognize it: it was the gleam of a scholar with a mission.

He'd seen that look in his sister Lovisa's eyes scores of times, and the emotion behind it was not unknown to him either.

"What sort of texts have you been working on?" he asked Allegra.

"I have no idea," she confessed cheerfully. "I'm sure it's probably some dry old thing, but a guest gave it to me because he knew my interest was in the language, not the content."

"If you want to show it to me later in the evening, I should at least be able to figure that out," offered Claudio.

They arrived at the bar and Allegra smiled winningly at the very dashing and smooth Sergio when he came over. "Allegra, Signore Barimen," he greeted. "What can I offer you this evening?"

Allegra turned expectantly to Claudio.

Claudio started to order his usual white wine, then stopped himself. "Oh, something adventurous," he said. "It's my first time, after all. Though for preference not something that will put me under the table quite yet," he added with a chuckle. "As you see, I'm only a little fellow."

"Hmm..." Allegra responded thoughtfully as she looked over behind the bar at the dizzying array of exotic liquors. She finally pointed to a tall thin bottle with no label that had what appeared to be a large blue diamond as a stopper. "That."

Sergio nodded in approval and agreement, then turned away to prepare their drinks.

"It is Atlantean," Allegra explained, and then smiled. "It's very nice, and won't put you under the table unless you drink half the bottle."

"I think I can undertake not to do that," said Claudio, "unless, of course, it turns out to be irresistible. What is it called?"

"Fos tis asteri," Allegra replied. "Starlight." She gestured to where Sergio was pouring their drinks. The liquor was very faintly blue. Tiny silvery flashes danced in its depth. The bowl of the glass had a faint shimmer to it once it was filled.

"What a delightful notion," said Claudio, reaching for his glass. As he raised it in salute, he added parenthetically, "I don't suppose it requires an antidote, does it?"

Allegra lowered her glass and gave Claudio a look. "You are having me on, aren't you?" Then she laughed. "Oh, you are! Of course it doesn't require an antidote. What kind of place do you think Petra is running here?"

Claudio lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "I didn't know how far certain fashions from the Courts might have spread. Some of our delicacies do, you see ... while at the same time being prized for their flavor, or the sensations they produce, or both."

"Well, that is true most places, is it not?" Allegra replied with an easy, one shouldered shrug. "But we have quite a few daring, young nobles who like to think they're immortal visiting. They would likely get themselves into trouble if we offered anything terribly dangerous." She smiled. "More dangerous then Antonia, anyway."

"What, you don't think we have daring young nobles who think they're immortal in the Courts?" Claudio responded with a grin. "Of course, some might see this as a way to thin them out... But no, for myself I don't harbor illusions of immortality. And for that reason, have every intention of enjoying the life I have." He took a sip of the sparkling brew.

Allegra toasted him silently before she took her own drink. It was just a hint of sweetness and a subtle dryness. It had a bouquet that called to mind exotic gardens near a crystal blue sea. It tasted of light and color -- and in some indefinable way -- freedom.

Claudio closed his eyes for a moment, savoring it. When he opened them again he said to Allegra, "Then again, it may be difficult to stop with half a bottle. But no... that would spoil it." It might have been a trick of the light, but it almost seemed as if his grey eyes were taking on a bit of the drink's starlight sparkle.

"The trick is -- as in all things -- to pace yourself," Allegra offered with a smile full of mischief.

Claudio's return smile was a touch rueful. "I know about that, somewhat.

"What next?" he queried softly.

She cocked her head to one side as she regarded him over the top of her glass. "That is entirely up to you, mon cher. If you are feeling peckish, we could proceed to dinner. Or there are the gaming tables, a tour for the art, the library..." she smiled again. "It is a little early in the evening for more ... libidinous pursuits."

"Dinner, I think, first," Claudio said judiciously. "I'm told the Queen's table is not to be missed. Dinner and conversation. After that, well... we'll see."

"But of course," she smiled easily. Allegra signaled Sergio that they were leaving, and then to Claudio, gestured gracefully with her free hand in the direction they were proceeding. "Shall we? I understand that the kitchens were doing something at His Majesty's suggestion this evening. Cajun, I believe was the word."

"His Majesty... Merlin?" Claudio queried, as they began to move through the lounge. He seemed to be fairly practiced at wending his way around people without disturbing their conversations. "And would 'Cajun' be something from Shadow?" He sounded interested.

"Si, yes," Allegra said airily as she led him through that large main lounge and down a hallway lined with artwork. Each painting was identified by a small brass framed card beside it as being done by a local artist from the Artists Quarter.

Claudio couldn't help pausing to look every so often, especially when the artist was one of his own recent acquaintances.

"Merlin, he is a frequent visitor. I am given to understand that Cajun is a regional way of cooking from the Southern Coast of the someplace in Shadow Earth. Very spicy. Mostly seafood. Though I think Sergio does not believe his claims of rattlesnake and alligator."

"Cajun?! Mmm... wonderful," came a male voice from an adjoining hallway. Around the corner strode a tall, lanky man in the uniform of the Queen's security detail. His auburn hair was combed back and his blue eyes sparkled genially, even while being ever-alert as befitted a security officer. He smiled at the pair. "Vincenzo said we had a new arrival aboard. Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Goran Vladic, Ramblin' Queen security, as you can see," he said with a polite bow of his head.

"Claudio Barimen," Claudio responded, nodding in return. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir."

With his slight stature, limping gait and smiling eyes, it had to be said that this particular scion of House Barimen did not look very threatening.

"Would that be of the Chaos Barimens?" Goran inquired amiably.

"Yes, in fact," said Claudio, looking a little surprised. "I wasn't sure how much would be known of our side of the family here in Amber. It's been a long time."

"We're a long way from the Tree. What brings you to Amber?"

Claudio pursed his lips for a moment, as if considering his answer, and then finally said, "Curiosity, mainly. My besetting sin," he added with a grin. "And then of course, an artist should have a variety of experience under his belt if he doesn't want his work going stale."

"Ah! An artist!" Goran exclaimed. "You'll find no better artwork in Amber short of the Palace. The Marchesa spares no expense." He gazed around at the paintings appreciatively.

"And has excellent taste, as I have already noticed," said Claudio.

"Have you been in Amber long?"

"A month or so," replied Claudio, "as it's counted here. I'm finding it quite enjoyable."

"Won't you join us for dinner, Goran?" Allegra finally asked good-naturedly in an effort to shoo them on to the dining room. From her place at the door, Melanie had already seen them coming and sent someone off to prepare a table.

Goran grinned acquiescently. "Well, I'll leave that up to your guest. On this boat, three can sometimes be a crowd."

"I would be delighted," Claudio replied at once. "And at the same time I won't be offended if your duties take you elsewhere at any point -- though I venture to hope there will be no emergency."

"I hope so as well," Goran concurred. "We've had enough of those today, as I'm sure you've discovered based on the condition of the docks. Everything's under control now though."

Claudio nodded. "I'd been hearing rumors as well," he acknowledged. "It was all over the Quarter by midday."

"So you've been here for a month," Goran said, changing the subject as he began to lead the way toward the lounge. "Visit or permanent?"

"I don't consider anything 'permanent,'" Claudio replied with a twinkle, "with the possible exception of the eternal verities, whatever they may be. But for what it's worth, I've taken lodgings in the Rue Jardin rather than an inn or something of that sort. I hope to stay for a while."

"Ah, a lovely section of the city," Goran commented appreciatively as they approached the dining room.

"I find it congenial," Claudio said with a smile, "and besides, a friend of mine is living there already."

Allegra didn't interrupt them, nor did she bother with talking at all. She simply shared handsignals with Melanie as the group stepped through the door of the dining room. The petite blonde simply stepped in front of the trio and led the way to their table.

The elegant decor was arranged in such a way as to give diners privacy without seeming to crowd them. Crystal glittered from the ceiling lighting, the place settings, and the table lights. At each place setting was a menu written in an elegant hand detailing the evening's offerings. Melanie stood back as the group seated themselves, then cocked an inquiring eyebrow at Allegra.

"Tell Armand to surprise me," the brunette smiled. Melanie nodded and turned her questioning gaze to Claudio. "And you, sir?"

Claudio had picked up the menu and was studying it. He looked up at Allegra and said with a tilted smile, "Perhaps as the resident linguist, you could help me by translating?"

Goran deferred the menu question to Allegra. While Melanie was waiting for Claudio, Goran put in his order. "Just a soda water with lime and an order of the bruschetta for me, Mel. I'm on duty," he smiled up at her, his blue eyes twinkling.

She gave him a brilliant smile and nodded.

Allegra gave Claudio a wry smile. "I shall see what I can remember. Anything blackened is essentially cooked until the coating and spices on it are black - or nearly so. It isn't as bad as it sounds. The Blackened Chicken is really quite good. The shrimp creole is divine, and the jambalaya is a mix of chicken, sausage, and shrimp. It's all spicy," she grinned. "I draw the line at rattlesnake and alligator though. There are some things the gods never intended Man to eat."

"They shouldn't have made Man so infinitely adaptable, then," Claudio responded equably. "You mentioned that seafood was the speciality here, though... 'Blackened redfish' sounds pleasantly paradoxical, with perhaps the gumbo to start? I gather from its place on the menu that it's a soup," he added.

It was Melanie that answered. "Si. I can recommend a very nice Riesling to accompany your meal if you like, and the Champignon Bourree for an opener before your soup."

"That sounds delightful," said Claudio.

Goran cast a final smile at Melanie as she departed, then turned back to Claudio. "So, you were saying. You already knew someone in the Artist's Quarter?"

Claudio nodded. "Doctor Delluth Corrino. I've known him since I was a boy."

"Oh. Doctor Corrino. I met him once or twice. Through a mutual friend. Have you had the chance to meet up with him since your arrival?" Goran asked politely.

"A few times," said Claudio. "He helped me find my flat, and introduced me to a restaurant or two."

"Only two?" Goran teased. "He's slacking then. The area's loaded with them. I spend quite a bit of time up there when I'm off duty."

"Are you an artist, too, in your off hours? Musician? Actor?" asked Claudio. "Or just an enthusiastic spectator?"

Goran laughed. "Most of the above, Master Barimen. I can play most anything with strings, except perhaps the grand harp. And I do hit the open stages on occasion. Just for fun, though. My profession is here."

Claudio nodded comprehendingly, and said, "I'll have to keep an eye out for you. The open stages are one of the things I like best about the Quarter -- though in that case, I'm the enthusiastic spectator."

"Have you tried the Cafe Magnolia yet? You'll not find better Rebman cuisine short of Rebma."

"No, I haven't located that one yet. What's the address?"

As he posed the question, Claudio reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a small black book and a pencil. He flipped it open to a blank page while waiting for Goran's answer; observation might note that most of the used pages contained sketches rather than writing.

"Across from Erzulie Circle in Five Corn..."

Just then a tall blond man glided into the dining room with an unhurried pace that nevertheless covered a lot of ground, and up to the table. He bent, and murmured a few words in Goran's ear.

Suddenly alert, Goran rose immediately. "Pardon me please. Duty. Enjoy your evening," he said, flashing a reassuring smile to the guest before departing quickly.

"Good luck," Claudio said. He looked after Goran for a moment, to see if he could figure out what was going on, then turned back to Allegra with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I expect he'll handle it expeditiously, whatever it is. Do you get into the City much yourself, Allegra?"

Allegra didn't appear to be in the least concerned with Goran's sudden departure. She set down the wineglass she had been drinking from and gave Claudio her complete attention again. "A few times a week," she answered pleasantly. "Being an artist herself, Petra encourages us to support the local talent by patronizing their studios or businesses. I'm rather surprised none of us have met you before, seeing as you live there."

"Only for the past few weeks," Claudio pointed out. "And there are a lot of distractions in the Artists' Quarter. It's not always easy to find someone you know to look for, much less anyone else. Besides, I'm primarily a portraitist; I'm used to working on commission. That means I wouldn't be looking for gallery space right away, or displaying on street corners or at the open-air shows."

An impish smile curved his lips as he regarded her, head tilted. "I suppose one might better ask why I hadn't noticed you before."

Allegra smiled teasingly. "Clearly, you need to get out more."

"Clearly, I do," he agreed, raising his glass in salute to her before taking a sip. "Look what I've been missing."

She cocked her head to one side. "You only do portraits?"

"Well, not exclusively. That would be too restrictive. But I am more interested in depicting people than I am places or things, and that's the aspect of my work that's had the most professional success, as you might say."

"What exactly do you mean by 'professional success'?" Allegra asked as their appetizer was delivered to their table, along with a half bottle of a light white wine.

"Simply that those are the works I've been able to get people to pay me to produce for them," Claudio explained.

"May I?" He filled glasses for Allegra and himself, then speared a plump stuffed mushroom and cut it in quarters with his fork before putting a piece in his mouth.

He smiled. "Delicious. And just a hint of spicy..."

She smiled. "Sergio will be delighted that you approve. Between you and me, I think he was a bit skeptical of this menu. But he did tell Merlin he would try."

"My admittedly untutored palate would suggest that he rose to the challenge," said Claudio.

Allegra served herself before continuing. "I understand that portraits keep the roof over your head, but is that what your artist's soul wishes to paint?"

Claudio looked thoughtful. "Essentially it is -- as I mentioned before, I find people more intrinsically interesting than places, or objects. But I will say that my own free choice of subject would be something quite different from courting portraits." His mouth went wryly amused for a moment before he took a sip of wine, perhaps to blot out some imagined taste.

More softly, he went on, "As an artist I feel it is my calling to show forth my own perception of truth. But of course in portraiture that tends to make people uncomfortable."

Allegra listened with an intensity that gave the impression Claudio was the only one in the room. When he finished, she took a thoughtful sip of wine before responding. "What you need," she suggested, "is a Patron."

"Perhaps," he agreed. "But it would have to be a patron who either shared my passion, or--"

He broke off suddenly and went still and alert, as if straining to catch an elusive melody unheard by others. His lips were slightly parted and his brows drew together in a frown of consternation.

"What...?" he breathed. "No, that shouldn't...not..."

Allegra looked at him with growing concern. She laid a hand on his arm and leaned closer. "Claudio?" she inquired lowly. "What is amiss?"

Claudio met her eyes and she could see the alarm in his. "Logrus energies, somewhere nearby," he replied. His voice, like hers, was pitched low so as not to carry any farther than their table. "I'm sure of it."

Allegra looked appropriately alarmed and looked around for one of the Security staff to alert.

And then...

The ship shook, as though a tremor had shaken the ocean bed beneath them violently. Glasses fell off tables. Several people lost their footing. All the candles flickered ... and then burned as normal.

There was more then one startled cry from other areas of the dining room. Allegra looked both shocked and alarmed now as she kept a white knuckled grip on the arms of her chair even after the shaking subsided.

Claudio felt as though all energy had been suddenly drained from his body. He was spiraling down to a deep ... dark ... place.

To those in the dining room, the young Chaosian seemed to have collapsed, deeply unconscious.

"Merda," Allegra swore frantically. She stood, and then stood on her chair to search the dining room. Decorum be damned. She whistled sharply for Armand's attention, the sound cutting through the chatter of the rest of the room's occupants and bringing quiet to the room. Melanie's voice filled it, calming nerves and sending servers scurrying to the various tables to see what their guests required.

Armand was not looking his usual suave self when he arrived, and he cursed much more colorfully then Allegra had when he discovered the problem. He looked at Allegra. "Infirmary?"

"Infirmary," she agreed and moved things around so Armand could hoist up the slighter man and carry him through the security corridors to the ship's Infirmary.

As Armand lifted him, Claudio's ibis-headed walking stick fell from his loosened grip and clattered to the floor.

Allegra scooped it up carefully. Because one just never knew what to expect from the family Barimen. She led the way: opening doors, and checking passageways so they could finally slip unseen into the Infirmary, where Aura stood hovering over Rosa, and Lily, and a female guest who appeared to have cut her hand during the fracas.

Armand deposited Claudio onto an empty bed, sketched a salute to the attending physician, and quickly left to deal with the aftermath of the excitement. Or, at least, he hoped it was the aftermath and not just the calm before the storm.

Allegra looked torn between staying and going to help on the floor for a moment. In the end, she chose to stay with Claudio, since he at least knew who she was.

It wasn't long before Claudio began to stir. Though his eyes were still closed, his head moved restlessly from side to side; his hand twitched and started to grope the bedclothes at his side, as if searching for something.

Allegra turned from whispering with Aura and watched him a few moments, her brow furrowed until she realized what he might be looking for. As it was the only thing she had seen him with, it was as good a thought as any. She retrieved the cane that she had set against the bedside table and laid it beside him within his reach.

"Marcello," she called softly across the room. "Claudio, he is starting to stir."

Meanwhile, Claudio's hand found the ibis-headed cane and closed over it. The cane made an odd double grunt -- wehp-ep! A shiver ran through the artist's slight body, a momentary, overall tension, followed by a relaxation. The pallor that had accompanied his faint gave way to a healthier tint, and his eyes fluttered open. His gaze flickered over his surroundings and came to rest on Allegra's face.

What...? he mouthed noiselessly.

There was the sound of glassware clinking together, and cabinets closing, before the sound of a curtain swishing aside. A solidly built man came into view, wearing a nicely tailored and crisply pressed white shirt that currently had its sleeves rolled up to just below the elbow, neatly done, though it seemed the cloth strained to contain the man's muscular forearms. The man was bald, or shaved his head, and had dark brown eyes...he was a swarthy fellow, and he had a pleasant, even handsome, if somewhat pugilistic face. He still wore his tie, properly knotted at his throat, though he had tucked it into his shirt, between two of the buttons.

He smiled down at Claudio, leaning over the prostrate Chaosian, and spoke in a Cornaran accent that was by now familiar to patrons of the Queen. "My name is Marcello...perhaps you heard...I am, in fact, a Doctor. So remain still a moment, you fainted, and we must be certain you are well." He pulled a stethoscope from his back pocket, and put it around his neck. "I understand that you are Claudio...an artist, Si? Yes?"

"That's right." Claudio spoke softly but clearly. His grey eyes were alert as they scanned Marcello's unfamiliar form, but his slight body lay relaxed, with no renewal of tension. Apparently the prospect of being examined by a doctor held no terrors for him. The only unusual thing that Marcello might observe was that Claudio's right leg was noticeably shorter than his left; nothing else was visible under clothing.

"Was anyone else affected by ... whatever that was?" he asked Allegra.

"Not in the way that you were," Allegra answered lowly. "What caused it, do you think?"

Marcello smiled slightly. "The Lady beats me to the punch, Si?" He lifted his hands, and then looked thoughtful. "What do you think caused you to faint, and how are you feeling now?" His hands slid along Claudio's arm, until he found his pulse at the wrist, and then consulted a time-piece withdrawn from his pocket. "And, pardon me for asking, but I also understand that you are from Chaos. Your vital signs, can they be checked as per human standard?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Claudio said, then added with a flicker of a smile, "From a Chaosian point of view, we are the standard ... insofar as that means anything, in Chaos. But I really don't know how much variation there is between Chaosians and people from other places, physiologically."

Marcello frowned slightly. "Well then, we'll figure it out together then." He paused. "Your pulse seems normal enough, if that's any comfort to you." He put his hands to either side of Claudio's head, and turned it towards the bright light to one side of the room, and then away, and then back. "I don't think you've been concussed either... Any aches or pains?"

"No, not even a headache," Claudio informed him.

His expression sobered. "It may be enough that no one else was affected ... that way." His eyes went to Allegra again. "It was some manifestation of the Logrus, I think. An inimical one. I felt as if all my energies were draining away, and then ... nothing but dark dreams of roiling black smoke and seas of blood."

Marcello shrugged. "I don't know anything about that I'm afraid. Zito might, perhaps when you have your feet, you can discuss it with him, Si?"

"I don't know Zito, but I'll be happy to talk to him," said Claudio. His brow furrowed. "I can't help thinking the danger isn't over."

Marcello began to gently prod him along his torso, poking and tapping in places, likely a bit more pointedly than usual, due to Claudio's clothing. Now and then he would pause, and ask, "Does that hurt?"

Apart from a small rectangular object apparently secreted in Claudio's breast pocket, Marcello's probes turned up nothing unusual. Claudio simply shook his head at each inquiry. As the examination proceeded, he informed Marcello, "Before you ask, the leg is a pre-existing condition."

Marcello nodded. "Scusa mi, Zito is a term of respect...I was referring to Vincenzo, he is in charge of Security, you might have questions for him, Si?"

A twinkle of amusement sparked in Claudio's eyes. "I might... but I wouldn't necessarily expect him to answer them."

Allegra smirked. "I see you have met Zito then."

"Glancingly," Claudio replied, "but one glance is enough."

Marcello checked his arms, and his legs, nodding again at Claudio's declaration. "Physically, I find nothing wrong...you should eat a solid meal, or two...you are too skinny...to be safe, avoid beer, wine, and liquor. Try some bracing tea, I'm sure Allegra can help you choose."

Claudio chuckled softly. "Do you give such advice to all your patients, Doctor? I should think it would be bad for business."

"Si, Marcello," Allegra teased. "What are you thinking?"

Marcello smiled. "You may use the bed as long as you need, Magro... but I see no reason to make you stay."

"Thank you, Doctor." Claudio sat up cautiously, then gave Allegra a questioning look. "I don't quite think we should go on as if nothing has happened, do you? Not with something loose that shouldn't be."

"I am quite certain that Security is handling it," she replied with a glance at Marcello. "But it would not hurt to let Vincenzo know you felt what you did. I do not think he will want us crowding his office." Allegra frowned thoughtfully. "I will send word. He can come to us, or send for you. We can wait in the lounge if you like. Enjoy the music for a bit, perhaps."

And keep an eye out for trouble, thought Claudio. To Allegra he simply nodded and said, "Very well."

He got to his feet carefully, leaning on his cane a bit more than usual, but for now there was no recurrence of vertigo. He offered his arm to Allegra. "Shall we, then?"

She smiled winningly as she took his arm. "If you are certain you are recovered, we shall."

Allegra led him down the hall, hung a right, and another hall that led to the top of the grand staircase leading down to the lounge. The crowd had been soothed by the professionalism of the staff -- who did not panic at the disturbance -- and were again scattered about in small groups or couples, enjoying the generosity of the owner. Not that she was aware of it at the moment.

Allegra paused in midstep, her gaze on one side of the room.

"Hmm. The Prime Minister."

Claudio's eyebrows went up, and he followed her gaze. "Oh, really? That's interesting."

It wasn't that difficult to pick Mandor out of the crowd. Though Claudio had never met him in person, he'd certainly heard him described.

"I wonder how long he's been here," he mused.

"Not long, I would think," Allegra replied with a very slight one shouldered shrug as they continued down the stairs. "Petra, she said there was a family dinner at the castle, and the Prime Minister asked her to attend...."

Allegra trailed off, looking over the crowd on the floor for the woman in question. Not seeing her, her brow furrowed once again in thought. "I am, I think, more interested in why he is here."

"Indeed," Claudio agreed, "all the more so if this is an unplanned visit."

"It is," Allegra assured him quietly.

"Hmm... I suppose it's possible that the disturbance just now was felt over a greater area than the Queen alone. If it was traceable to here -- well, in his place, I would certainly want to investigate."

"He does not appear to be investigating to me," she said dubiously. They stepped off the stairs and she steered him to the opposite side of the room from Mandor. In fact, she seemed to be trying to get as far from him as possible and still remain in the same room.

Claudio followed Allegra's lead, but he looked, if anything, slightly disappointed. "Mandor is rumored to be an adeptus of several disciplines," he noted. "Just because he doesn't look as if he's investigating doesn't mean that he isn't."

Almost as though he had heard them, Mandor turned slightly at this point, and looked at them both -- a long, measuring gaze. Then he turned away slightly. It was as though his gaze had turned inward.

"There," Claudio said with a half-smile. "We've been investigated."

Allegra shuddered. She silently signaled over Sergio when he was close enough and whispered to him. He cast a politely concerned look at Claudio, but kept his own counsel, nodded, and walked off purposefully towards a door at the back of the room.

His companion turned back to Claudio. "He will let Vincenzo know."

Claudio nodded. "Very good. And in the meantime--" His smile turned wryly amused. "Tea, perhaps, as the doctor suggested?"

She smiled. "If you like. Do you trust me to select it for you? I promise it is not poison."

"Certainly I trust your judgment," said Claudio. "Moonlight, perhaps, to complement the starlight of earlier?"

Then he blinked, an odd expression coming to his face.

Allegra raised an eyebrow and leaned in close to whisper in his ear. "What?"

"Some sort of power surge," he murmured, "but not the same as before. I've never felt... Is that Pattern?" He actually sounded more curious than alarmed.

She blinked. "Is it? I would hardly know..." but she trailed off and patted his arm. "Excuse me."

Sliding out of her chair, she approached the tall brunette in a leather jacket speaking quietly with Antonia. There was a brief conversation, a nod from the brunette, and a moment later, Allegra returned to the table, signaling a member of the bar staff along the way.

"Well," she said matter of factly as she returned to his seat. "You certainly chose an exciting evening for your first visit."

"I don't suppose you can tell me anything about what's actually going on," Claudio said regretfully. At the same time he sent another curious glance toward Mandor.

And suddenly, moving swiftly through the room, appearing unhurried and yet moving with unexpected speed, Mandor was gone.

"It looks as if the Prime Minister has decided to investigate something else," noted Claudio.

It was at this moment that he started to feel the tingling of a trump...

His brow knitted slightly, and his hand slipped into his breast pocket.

Behind the rectangular shape of his small sketchbook lay the similar rectangular shape of his Trump case. His deft fingers eased it open and quickly fingered the cards inside. He knew their order, so a touch should be able to tell him if any of the cards he held corresponded to the caller.

Allegra was eyeing the direction Mandor disappeared in suspiciously. That Portia slipped out to seemingly follow him a few moments later didn't seem to make her feel any better about things.

By the time Allegra turned her attention back to Claudio, he'd taken his hand back out of his pocket, but took care to catch her eye before he spoke, holding her gaze intently.

"Allegra," he said in a low voice, "do we need to stay here for Vincenzo to find us, or could we, mmm, go have a quick look at that book of yours, maybe?"

She lifted an eyebrow in speculation, but merely nodded and rose gracefully from her seat. She held out a hand to him. With all that was going on, she doubted her book was anywhere in the forefront of things he was really interested in doing.

Claudio took her hand, ready to follow where she led ... which would hopefully be somewhere more private than the main lounge.

Allegra smiled a carefree smile as she looped an arm through his. She eyed the stairs a moment then changed her mind and led him off to the hall opposite the one that led to the dining room.

She stopped at the first door on the right and eyed the gathering further down the hall as she opened the door for Claudio.

Claudio smiled his thanks as he stepped through the door, then glanced around the room.

It was a small, elegant sitting room decorated in sage and rose. A settee, a couple of chairs and occasional tables, a sidebar and a desk -- over which hung a detailed painting of distant festival centered around a couple costumed and masked as harlequins.

Claudio walked further into the room until he was out of sight of the hallway, then said, "Pardon me, Allegra, but is it all right for me to take a call in here? I know it isn't permitted in the public areas."

"Rooms such as this, that is what they are for," Allegra assured him. "Shall I wait in the hall?"

"If you would, please," said Claudio. "It shouldn't take long."

Once Allegra was out of the room, he opened himself to the Trump contact.

Pavlo came into view -- he was in military dress, and looked tired, worried.

"There you are," he said. "Are you in Amber yet?" He was clearly attempting to see Claudio's surroundings. "Where *are* you?"

"Yes, I'm in Amber," Claudio told him. "Where are you?"

A rueful smile. "Guess."

The background was, not unexpectedly, military. But it was unfamiliar.

"Not that far from you, I imagine," he said.

"The barracks on the Scar," Claudio guessed. He'd heard numerous references to this during his sojourn in Amber, though he hadn't cared to approach it himself. "Did you just arrive and want to see if we can get together for dinner sometime?" There was an ironic inflection to this last; he didn't really think Pavlo was Trumping him for such a reason, especially considering his older brother's expression.

"I want you to get out," said Pavlo. "There's trouble here -- like you wouldn't believe. The whole place is going..." He broke off, and looked warily to his right -- and Claudio heard him addressing someone to his right. "Nothing, Sir. I just was seeing to His Grace's..."

And then the connection was abruptly cut.

To Claudio it felt as if Pavlo's concentration had been broken by some other urgent demand on his attention, rather than any kind of interference. He still couldn't help worrying about Pavlo just as Pavlo was worried about him, but duty was duty ... in Pavlo's case as well as his own.

He passed in rapid mental review the Trumps he held, and almost as rapidly discarded the idea of using any of them at the moment. He was certainly not going to bolt, even if that would do any good without knowing more about the nature and scope of the trouble.

Instead he limped quickly to the door and opened it.

Allegra was still outside the room where Claudio had withdrawn to take his trump call when she heard the door behind her open, and Claudio speak.

"Allegra? If it's at all possible, I'd like to go see Vincenzo now, please."

Allegra twisted her fingers together a moment then just nodded. "This way," she sighed and escorted him down the hall, hung a left, and to the second open office door on the right. She paused in the doorway.

Claudio followed her closely, pausing when she did. He glanced through the doorway but without crowding Allegra.

"Ramon?" The man quirked an eyebrow at her from where he was lounging against Vincenzo's desk and watching through another open doorway into yet another room. Portia was all that was visible from where Allegra and Claudio were at the door. "Where is Vincenzo?"

"Across the hall," he gestured. "Sitting room."

Allegra nodded and looked to Claudio before she moved to knock on the indicated door.

Claudio just made an 'after you' gesture with his free hand.

Allegra crossed the hall and was just lifting her hand to knock when the door was opened, startling both Allegra and Petra.

The woman with Claudio blew out a breath. "Excusi, Marchesa. We are looking for Vincenzo. Claudio has information for him."

Petra's gaze wandered over to Claudio. "Indeed?"

Claudio had not previously met Petra Rossi, but Allegra's use of the title "Marchesa" was enough to indicate that this was probably she. Giving her a respectful inclination of the head, he said, "I hope so, Signora."

> "Then by all means..." Petra invited them into the room by stepping aside.

Claudio entered the room in Allegra's wake, and glanced around.

Vincenzo was sitting at a desk to one side of the room. He looked curiously at the new arrivals, rather pointedly so at Allegra. Petra, however, left to go search for Mandor.

"Excusi, Zito," Allegra said once the door had closed. "Claudio feels he has something to add to your ... investigation."

Bin Fremen, sitting on the couch across the room, looked worriedly at Claudio but said nothing.

Claudio dipped his head in acknowledgement before fixing his grey eyes on Vincenzo. "Perhaps I should take things in order," he said, "even if I'm repeating things you already know. I was in the dining room with Allegra here -- it wasn't too long after the security man left us, Goran -- when I sensed a ... manifestation of Logrus energy. A moment later ... it felt as if all my own energies were being drawn out of me, and I lost consciousness." He glanced over at Allegra for corroboration.

Allegra nodded vigorously in response to Vincenzo's curled eyebrow. "He passed out. We took him to the infirmary. Marcello, he found nothing amiss."

"The important thing," Claudio went on, "is that I don't think this attack, whatever it was, is over, nor is it going to be limited to the Queen. I just now received a warning from ... well, someone concerned about my safety, urging me to leave Amber."

Allegra looked alarmed. Vincenzo pursed his lips and crushed his cigar in the ashtray on the desk. He smoothly gained his feet, tugged his cuffs down and ran a hand across the front of his jacket. He did not look surprised at this revelation. In fact, he had the look of a man whose suspicions had been vindicated.

"Do you wish to pass this information along to the Prime Minister in person?"

"I would be more than willing to do that," Claudio answered at once.

Vincenzo nodded and turned to bin Fremen. "You will accompany us, per favore." It was phrased as a request, but it most certainly wasn't one.

The security chief preceded the group out into the hall and waited until everyone was out before leading them back the way they had come to the main hall intersection. Petra was there, speaking with the tall, blonde Stalmos. She turned as they approached and addressed Vincenzo.

"Mandor has joined Nicco and Goran. The rest of the group that came with me has dispersed. Some to examine the body, there was an altercation of some sort after I left in which Damien was injured but not bad enough to require medical attention. He is in one of the sitting rooms down the hall attending to himself. Portia has gone to escort Baroness Helgram wherever it is she needed to be. Delluth is somewhere about."

Claudio looked startled. "Delluth? Doctor Corrino?"

Vincenzo nodded. "We will be joining Mandor." Again, it was a fact, not a request, and Petra just nodded in response and led them all to the door of the room in question.

Claudio followed, but was at the same time glancing around to see if Delluth was anywhere in sight.

He saw him coming along the corridor towards him.

"Doctor Corrino!" Claudio hailed him.

"Claudio!" Delluth replied, his rather grim expression lightening. "You did say something about coming here soon, didn't you? Pity it was today. It must have been very alarming."

"You might say that. Not quite the sort of excitement I'd bargained for," Claudio noted dryly. "And it doesn't seem to be over yet. What about you? Are you here in a professional capacity, or...?"

"I wanted to know what happened, so I came with the others," he said, moving toward the door Petra and Vincenzo had gone through. "It affected people all the way up to the Castle," he added.

"That doesn't surprise me," said Claudio. "Allegra and I deduced that's why the Prime Minister was here." Along with Delluth he followed after Petra and Vincenzo, into the room where the said Prime Minister was presumably conducting his investigations.

Continued in Gathered on the Queen