The Afternoon After

There are not many minutes to spare of the fifth bell of forenoon watch when Jovian starts following leads from page to page - quickly, man! - tracking the midmorning meanderings of a certain artist as a young man.

When the dragonman catches up with Ossian, he is not quite out of breath, but looking perhaps a little harried.

Jovian finds Ossian in a chamber in the outer barbican, where he's talking to two craftsmen, probably some kind of glass workers: "...can fasten them to the wall. I guess that will be no problem? And locks. We should be able to set padlocks on them." Ossian turns around at the sound of Jovian arriving

"Ah. Jovian!" Ossians face breaks into a smile.

"Ossian!" Jovian grins. "Happy Freeday. Do you need to be anywhere this afternoon?"

"Nothing planned yet. Just a second." he turns to the craftsmen "I'll leave you here gentlemen. Take what measurements you need, you have my sketches. I'll send in a soldier whom you can ask questions"

He leads Jovian out through the door. To the guard outside he says quietly, "I want you to go in there and keep an eye on what those men say and do before they leave. They might ask you some questions. You know which to answer. Report to me when they have left." he nods at the soldier, and turns back to Jovian.

"You have the afternoon free?"

"Not exactly free," Jovian admits, "but most of it pleasantly spent. I have to meet with my wingleaders, and Canareth has an overdue appointment with a beach, a scrubbing brush and some oil. So it's a fairly loose afternoon I'm looking at. I believe your interest in talking about trumps with me wasn't philosophical?"

"No. The King has given me the instruction to collect Trump sketches of all the cousins. I guess it means painting one in your case?" For some reason Ossian makes it sound like going on an exciting holiday trip, rather than working. "A beach would be a fine place for the first sketches."

"And if a trump is supposed to capture a person's essential character, then the best place to draw me would be in Canareth's company," Jovian agrees. "Do you need to get your stuff together? I was planning on taking off in a few minutes."

"We are going to fly with that dragon of yours?" Ossian's enthusiasm is almost on the same level as Brita's would be. "I think I should fetch a few more pencils."

Jovian can't help but chuckle. "You can do studies of the whole Air Corps if you feel like it. We'll all be going. Go on and get what you need quickly, then meet me at Canareth's landing ledge uphill from the castle." He notes a few landmarks to ensure the artist knows which ledge is meant.

Ossian laughs "I'm not going to wear my pencils out, Jovian. I just want a selection of different hardnesses. See you up there in a few minutes, then."

He rushes off towards his room.

The wingleader chuckles lightly at the artist's back, reflecting that the company of such a one as this might have restorative properties after all, then turns to make his way outward and upward toward the ledge where Canareth and, he expects, two barrels of oil with related accoutrements will be waiting.

When Ossian arrives, Jovian is adjusting straps holding two barrels and some other gear to Canareth's strong back. From the strained effort of the servant helping Jovian hump the barrels up the behemoth's side, they must be plenty heavy, but Canareth takes the weight with an equanimity that seems hardly to notice the burden.

Unlike the occasion of their arrival two days back, Kourin and her golden Hoshith are not present.

Ossian arrives carrying a large flat leather case. He breaths slightly heavily, and bows deep towards Canareth.

"Canareth" he says in a formal voice.

Obviously Ossian has never talked to a dragon before.

Jovian turns from adjusting the harness and smiles broadly at the artist. "He appreciates the courtesy," he replies on behalf of his bonded. "He also appreciates being scratched at the top edge of the eye ridges, if you're so inclined." The echo of a chuckle behind this is both encouraging and understanding of a demurrer if it comes.

Ossian smiles. If Canareth's head is low enough Ossian will approach carefully and attempt to scratch his eye ridges.

"You communicate...through telepathy?" Ossian asks.

"But he...you" Ossian turns towards Canareth "cannot talk back?"

"Not in audible human speech, he can't, though he does have a voice." Jovian shrugs a little and his smile turns a touch wan, recalling both Canareth's trumpeting entrance seventy hours before and all the dragons' bellows of rage last night. "It's very rare for dragons to talk to anyone but their own riders mind-to-mind, but the histories tell of exceptions."

"Eh. It feels like I'm talking over your..eh.. .his" Ossian turns back towards Jovian "head."

"The dragons can understand our conversations mostly, but they're rarely interested. Their point of view is...different," Jovian shrugs. "They also talk amongst themselves, telepathically."

Ossian nods.

"That's right," Jovian nods. "Sometimes I talk out loud to him, but I don't have to."

Greetings having been made, the dragonman shows Ossian how to climb up the offered foreleg and position himself.

Ossian climbs up.

The where to hold on, how to lean, what to expect when you're a mile off the ground lecture is brief and to the point, but good natured, and shortly Canareth's immensely powerful hind legs propel them off the ridge, the beating of great wings driving them stably upward.

Ossian looks like he is in heaven.

"Want to fly a bit over the city before we teleport?" Jovian calls behind him over the rushing wind. It is plain that there's nowhere but here, in the air, that he'd rather be just now.

"Oh yes! I'd very much like to see how it looks from above. You know I designed a lot of the rebuilt parts, and the Memorial. I tried to make it look good from the air also, but was never able to chack the results." Ossian shouts back.

"Great, you can give me the ha'penny tour!" A bronze wingtip dips a bit and they cruise into a wide, banking turn, wings beating slowly. The flight path describes a broad arc that sweeps around and over the city from the south.

Ossian is quiet for several seconds, probably absorbed with flying. Then he starts pointing out important spots in the city. About 70 percent of the places Ossian points out are chosen for their aesthetic values. ("If you want to watch the sun rise during the late Month of Boatman, I really recommend the tip of that pier." "You see that square with the fountain? Those houses don't look too good from this angle, but from down there, I think it's one of the best composed places in the city.")

Jovian evidently enjoys the tour, mostly responding in nods and pleased expressions but now and then asking questions - pointing things out from time to time that Ossian would surely have gotten to, had the dragonman been patient. And he asks about name, nature and purpose should Ossian's focus on aesthetic qualities neglect those basics.

Ossian answers without sounding disappointed.

They could probably while away quite some time in this manner, but all too soon (and with a note of regret), Jovian calls over the wind, "We really should join the others now. We're expected at Ruby Falls."

Ossian nods. It's obivous he loves to fly.

Jovian grins broadly, happy to have a kindred spirit at that. "We're going to teleport. It's cold as hell between and you'll have to hold your breath, but it's only a few seconds."

"Ok. I'll hold my breath."

"Going between in three, two, one, now!" Jovian calls, and the sound cuts off like a door slamming. Except that the door slams on all reality. It is not a place - it is the essence of non-place, maybe even non-being. One can't quite say it's dark because one can see dark, so too for silence.

And before you can be quite sure whether something has happened to existence itself, there is light, noise, rushing wind, Canareth's neck between your legs again, and a stunning view of a place below that must surely be Ruby Falls.

Ossian stays quiet as they land.

Canareth's great roaring voice sounds arrival and a few of the dragons on the ground below respond. The bronze circles in to land in a clearing. Jovian is loosening the riding harness almost before Canareth is settled, and wastes little time sliding down his bonded's foreleg to greet his people.

Ossian follows, but stops close to Canareth's head saying "Thanks for the flight, Canareth."

The dragon's multifaceted eyes whirl slowly as they contemplate Ossian.

He follows Jovian and stops a few steps behind, letting Jovian greet his people and introduce Ossian.

Kourin has been giving orders to the dragonriders, apparently organizing the evening's meal. She sends a few riders after Canareth's cargo. "J'rim. I've sent the dragons to swim. It'll give them a head start on getting clean and give us a chance to discuss weyr business before getting down to scrubbing." She bows at Ossian. "Lord Ossian." Her voice is very neutral, as if she is tired.

"Good, they've earned it. I'll apologize to Hoshith personally for making her wait this long for an oiling. How's everyone holding up?" Particularly you, his eyes gently add.

Ossian returns the bow, saying rather quietly: "Greetings, dragonriders." He clearly doesn't want to interrupt.

"We've spent 50 turns living between deadly missions, bronze rider. Holding up is what we're good at." Her eyes flit to Ossian. "But it feels like everyone is stretched a bit thin. The whole weyr has that 'overtiming it' feeling."

Jovian nods understanding, and not a little agreement. "I don't know whether some enforced down-time is going to help or hinder. That's one of the things we have to talk about. The wingleaders are already together, right?" he adds with a wryly appreciative smile for the Weyrwoman, so good at anticipating him.

"Yes, they're 20 lengths upstream. I think M'hall and V'laren are brainstorming out new battle formations against flying lightning-throwing women."

Then he turns to Ossian. "You're welcome to hang around, cousin, but If you wanted to do some studies of the dragons now might be a good time for it. When they're free to socialize without their riders, they can be very interesting to watch." He shrugs.

Ossian grins (looking decidedly happy and unitelligent), and starts to unpack his sketching stuff.

Ossian will do some preliminary sketches of Jovian, and will spend the rest of the afternoon sketching dragons.

Jovian joins the wingleaders, with the following agenda for the meeting.

1. Timetable for return to the Isles. The place is Lord Vere's home, it's his fight to lead, so we have to wait for him. Could be a month or more.

Lots of nods. M'hall suggests that drills will need to be instituted.

Jovian approves of the idea and, on the principle that no good deed goes unpunished, asks M'hall for a schedule and order of drilling ready for approval by Sunday morning.

M'hall nods, pleased. Jovian thinks that if there were Werylings, he'd want to be Weyrlingmaster.

2. Need to move the encampment. ASAP, we start scouting in the mountainous area south-southwest of the city. Removal of our encampment from northern Arden is imperative, from Arden entirely is preferable.

L'tarn says that T'lon, brown Penneth's rider, thinks there may be good volcanic islands offshore. He thinks you should send out scouts to search for a good temporary spot for the Weyr.

This garners more tentative approval. Jovian recommends (because he still has the tact not to order Kourin's queen riders about) that Janel organize the Gatrin riders to look for suitable island weyrholds as well as the inland scouting he already has in mind.

Janel agrees to do so.

Strict attention is to be paid to flight plans, no deviation from intended courses without approval from the top. These scouting flights are to be treated like straight-flight tests in weyrling training. Jovian wants no one slipping into near Shadow by mistake.

3. Sound people out about returning to Calusa. How homesick are the wingriders getting, that sort of thing. Tell them candidly that the paths through shadow have changed some and I'll have to scout the route back home, but that I will be able to get them back.

[GM note: Trips to shadow are never, ever guaranteed to allow safe and immediate return. Or even arrival.]

[Player note: Jovian has not yet discovered this, and written off Daeon's experience to his being, well...Daeon.]

[GM note: Hokay.]

It's mixed. Nobody wants to run out on a fight, and there's not a lot of exciting prospects in Calusa. Maybe a quarter or less want to return soonish. The rest want to go home, eventually, but are in no hurry.

This is good, in light of the aforementioned delay in getting back to the Isles. Issue tabled for the time being.

4. Needing to hunt for red meat outside Arden - weekly trips into Shadow to feed the dragons and stock the camp larder.

[GM note: Trips to shadow are never, ever guaranteed to allow safe and immediate return.]

V'laren remarks that dragons like fish, even if he personally is not fond of it.

True, but concerns have been raised about overfishing and adequately feeding the city. If the wings end up moving to an island, fishing will be allowed to seaward only. Other arrangements will have to be explored for varying the riders' diet; Jovian would like a "wish list" requisition of a month's supplies from the weyrwomen ASAP.

They'll try to have it by the morning.

I'm convinced I'm forgetting at least one major topic, but my head is fit to explode at present. I may supplement this in the next day or so.

The floor is open for questions.

The wingleaders say that the wings want to know what happened in the sneak attack. They've told them what they knew, but they aren't privy to any plans. They do know it wasn't the floating woman they saw in the Isles, and they don't think it was one of the flying women from the city that they attacked, but they're getting suspicious of flying women.

They want to know what the plans to deal with her are.

Jovian advises that suspicion of any flying person of any gender except Aisling and Fiona is warranted. The rumors that last night's party-crasher was a malcontent holdout from the war we just won in Chaos are true, but that fact is to be held in confidence. Plans to settle her hash are being formulated, but no details have been made available yet. It is doubtful at this time that our (relatively) conventional fighting force will be called upon. Further information will be shared when it is made available.

M'hall wants to know about giving the wings liberty to visit the city.

Safe landing areas will have to be arranged and there will be plenty of work for all hands when the wings have a new place to set up camp, but other than that, liberty call will be permitted for small groups at a time. Before anyone sets foot in the city, queen riders and wingleaders included, there will be an orientation session on differences of heirarchy and cultural understanding, a.k.a. Getting Around Amber Without Starting Brawls.

Amber does have a tradition and code regarding dueling. Jovian has every intention of upholding the Calusan law that dueling among dragonriders is STRICTLY FORBIDDEN, but Amber has no such law and knows little to nothing of dragonkind. Exemplary behavior is expected and breaches will be severely dealt with. All riders are to be considered military officers and held to a code of conduct accordingly.

(Dragons and riders alike are bound to notice that Jovian is a bit touchy about this.)

Everyone agrees to this. Too many dead and the weyr is too small to suffer a stupid death on the verge of a war. Janel mentions that B'rina, green Trelath's rider of Citadel, will need to be kept in the weyr, then. L'tarn nods in agreement. When M'hall looks at him, he mentions that Trelath is moody.

Ah, spring is in the air. Memo to self: When recruiting an expeditionary force, only take greens who have risen within the past three weeks.

So ordered. She's to be included in the drilling schedule and scouting flights, but no liberty call for her until after Trelath rises.

The wingleaders want to know what it is they've agreed to by being knighted.

Jovian refers to the discussion they had the afternoon they arrived in Amber, noting that the King understands and accepts the riders' duty to Calusa. The knights are sworn to come to the aid of Amber should the Crown call upon them, to support and work with each other (including those nominated to the order by the other Knights Commander) when needed, and to uphold the standards of courtesy and honor expected of ladies and gentlemen of rank. In exchange, knights enjoy a moderate degree of respect and prerogative, including the signal honor of the right to petition the Crown for aid in times of their own need. He further notes that knights not in active service in the army have their own lives and pursuits largely without interference.

More specifically to this group, Jovian indicates that while it may take a while, it is both his and the King's intention to open some sort of formal relations with Calusa, and he expects the dragonrider knights to play important roles in that regard.

L'tarn also says that T'lon is also concerned about medical supplies, since the plants and herbs aren't familiar to him here.

In the immediate term, T'lon should make a list of what he's low on (more specific than "Everything") and ensure that the weyrwomen include it in the wish list. Longer term, Jovian will request of the Rangers that they spare a medic to work with T'lon and any others who volunteer to orient to Amberite supplies and techniques.

He diplomatically hopes that Kourin can spare Tamaranth's rider for that orientation as well.

She can. Jovian gets a "I'm waiting to talk to you after we finish with this business" feeling from Kourin. You don't doubt that the riders, who are not insensitive, know that she is waiting to talk to Jovian.

This revelation rates at least four Claudes.

[If you don't have anything else here, the group breaks up and you and Kourin can go wash Hoshith and talk...]

Everybody clear? Any further questions or issues? No? Good. As you were. Oil and brushes are over there, the dragons are overdue, enjoy your afternoon.

Assuming that Thalia is not going to stray far from home base, Conner suggests meeting at an open air cafe directly across from the Embassy. Conner arrives on time dressed in his usual blues and greens if in toned down shades.

Thalia arrives at about the same time, walking from a side door to the Embassy. You notice a Gatwegan sitting on an upper balcony of the Embassy, watching over the cafe.

"Conner," she says. She looks somewhat worn, but she manages a smile.

"Thalia." He smiles kissing her on the cheek and just holding her for a moment. Stepping back from the embrace, he pulls outher chair for her and then sits down at his own. "Quite a night last night, eh?"

"I can see why you have so few coronations." She sits. "And why Amber went to war in the first place. I'm very sorry about your sister. If there is anything I can do to help, I will do so."

"Were there anything I would ask." Conner assures her. "My family has that in hand. I leave on the morning tide for that very reason."

Her eyes widen a bit at this news, and she nods. "Yes, of course. That must be your first priority. Do you have someone looking after your interests while you are gone? Your Rebman accusers may well get up to mischief in your absence, and that of both your mother and, if my sources are correct, the King."

"Well my eyes and ears few that they are are still on the job." Conner replies. "Just hired a new servant named Lugg to keep an eye on my rooms and such (more info to come on him). As for the rest, I am hoping they can take care of themselves or I can make last minute arrangements." He murmurs giving her a concerned look that only a diplomat could read.

"I worry that Valeria may be too used to having her way to be temperate here, especially if she sees advantage slipping away in the potential return of your mother and Uncle, the King, her brother. I will leave if I have the option."

"I think that is wise." Conner nods. "We're it anything less than my sister, I would not be leaving at such a time." Conner sighs. "We are all stretched to thin these days."

She nods back. "Harper is seeing if she can learn anything with her magics, but Time magic is not an area of her expertise." She hands him a token. "This will get your man Lugg an audience with Ambassador Harper and the help of the Gatwegan Embassy, if he needs it."

"And any help he can be to you, do not hesitate to ask." Conner replies slipping the token into a jacket pocket.

She smiles, as if something has been settled, and begins eating. "Where has the King gone? That's causing quite a bit of consternation, you know."

"Among the Royals as well." Conner grumbles. "He's being all mysterious about it assuring us its very important and that he has to do it alone. I'm half convinced he's just slipped out the back and stuck us with the check."

She raises her eyebrows. "Can you cover it? Or are you washing dishes? If so, whose?"

"Well he's left Vialle as his marker." Conner replies. "Presumably that means he will return to pay."

She seems reassured.

The two lovers continue to talk of less consequential things, and, with a deep kiss, they regretfully part.

A few hours after Corwin and his party leave the castle a page delivers the following sealed letter to Reid:

Unto my eldest Cousin, Reid, Son of Osric,

Greetings, and farewell. I deeply regret that I could not meet with you in person to discuss these matters, yet time was short and much remained to be done.

I understand that you have undertaken to investigate the murder of Demond Harga'rel. I have some small bits of information which I hope will be of use to you. While I have no doubt that you are already aware of most, if not all, of what I can say, and that it might seem impertinence on my part to offer suggestions, I felt that I should mention these items to you if there were any chance that they might be of some small assistance.

Harga'rel's final dance partner requested that he fetch her champagne. He left the main hall and entered the champagne room to obtain it. It might be interesting to confirm, if possible, whether she entered the room with him, although my belief is that she did not.

Harga'rel filled two glasses from the fountain, while he was doing so a commotion (the actions of Duchess Borel) began in the main hall. The inhabitants of the champagne room exited hastily, to observe the events unfolding outside.

Harga'rel, slightly encumbered by the two glasses of champagne, also turned in the direction of the commotion. Before he could step away from the fountain both of his arms were seized, and he was struck from behind. This argues a minimum of two assailants, more likely three. As well, it is interesting to note that Harga'rel was unaware of the presence of anyone behind him before he was struck. This does not necessarily argue the use of magical or extra-normal methods, however, as there is an exit at the back of the room that could have been used, and the sounds of Duchess Borel's activities and the crowd's reaction might have covered the sounds of approaching assailants.

The two glasses he carried fell, shattering, at the base of the fountain. Harga'rel, stunned but not yet unconscious, was spun about by the person or persons holding his arms, thrust into the champagne fountain, and held there until dead.

His attackers departed, as unnoticed as they had come. Assuming they did not do so by means mystical, and that you have been unable to locate anyone who noticed someone liberally splashed with champagne, I suggest that the rear exit was used. The body was discovered within minutes of the murder.

I hope that this information will prove of some value to you. As I have no doubt that you are aware, it should be assumed that Harga'rel's one daughter currently in Amber will seek vengeance, as will his brothers and closest friends. It is to be hoped that their actions can be channeled in an appropriate way, and will not cause further disruptions.

I regret not being able to assist in your endeavour, and look forward to hearing of your success once I return to Amber.

Vere, Son of Gerard
(his seal)

It is sufficiently later on in the day for Lucas not only to have acquired his cap and robe but to have arranged them on his slender form to his satisfaction (something that takes a little time to accomplish). Solace and Hope have spent some time with him, long enough to be assured of his much improved condition. Gerard's visit has been less successful; although he remained optimistic for Lucas' recovery, he heartily endorsed the regime Flora has so ruthlessly instituted.

Now Gaston, who has previously been under strict instructions to bar the door to visitors as though his life depended on it, is permitted to usher well-wishers and family into Lucas's presence.

A sharp knock brings him to the door.

"Presumably the Queen," says Lucas, before Gaston opens it.

As the door opens it reveals not only Vialle but Lilly as well. This was not entirely unexpected. Random had named her something of a sword maiden in waiting after all. It was her duty to protect the queen. From that moment forth she had been something of Vialle's shadow. Ostensibly she had been playing the part of Lady in waiting. Evidently last night changed that.

Gone were the Amber style dresses she wore somewhat awkwardly. Today she was wearing black trousers with high black boots and a deep red jacket trimmed in gold. Her ever present sword hung at her side. Her dark hair was woven into a neat braid instead of being piled in a bun atop her head. For whatever reason the current style seemed to suit her better. Perhaps it was simply because she was far more comfortable in this sort of attire. True to herself though every hair was in place, every button gleamed, there was not a mark or a spot on her. Lilly just seemed to have a way of always managing to look just so regardless of what she was doing.

Seeing Lucas she bowed her head in greeting, eyes momentarily meeting his. She maintained her silence as she entered with Vialle giving the queen the opportunity to speak first.

Lucas returned the bow with a slight inclination of his own dark head, a gesture that displayed to perfection the rather fine cap he was wearing. His invalid status means that he does not rise to greet them, but he watches closely as Gaston moves to assist.

Vialle is clothed simply, in a dark green dress with a fitted bodice and a white underskirt, all trimmed in gold. The green sets off her dark hair, showing the hint of auburn in it. Her hair has been braided and pinned up around the thin gold circlet that marks her as Queen of Amber. Her eyes are unseeing, but she has an uncanny sense of direction and barely requires Gaston's help to find her way around the chamber.

Gaston leads Vialle to Lucas' side with a minimum of fuss.

"Lucas," she says. "I'm pleased to hear that you're better. I was very worried about you when I heard you had been hurt in Dara's attack."

"Much better," he says, "and most grateful for your concern. Will you take a seat? Might I offer your refreshment? Lilly?"

Vialle says, "Please don't trouble yourself, Lucas. Your mother was most firm that I was not to offer you any tidbits or disrupt Gerard's regimen in any way. And neither of us would dare to thwart her will." She offers him a sunny smile that almost makes him believe the deadpan good humor in her voice.

"As you please," says Lucas. He quirks an eyebrow at Lilly to see if she wants anything - or if she holds herself strictly 'on duty'.

"I am fine, thank you." she says in reply. Judging from the post she has taken up near the door and her straight backed stance it is clear she is indeed on duty. That is not to say though that she is not concerned for Lucas. It is merely that she has a job to do. With Lilly duty and honor always come first.

Gaston ushers Vialle to a chair and helps her seat herself. She doesn't really need Gaston's help, of course, having visited Lucas in these chambers in the past, but he still hovers a bit.

He waits until she and Lilly are settled before speaking again. As he addresses Vialle, his voice is less drawling and crisper than usual.

"I am honoured by your visit," he says. "You must have many pressing matters bearing in on you as a result of last night's alarms. I wish I were in a position to assist you, rather than constituting one of the problems - although a very minor one.

"I do hope to be on my feet and available for service in the next couple of days."

"It is more important that you be well than that you assist me," says Vialle. "I will find someone to aid me in the other endeavors."

"Ah, but none who can do them so stylishly," he rejoins. "Allow me that consolation at least!

Lilly refrains from rolling her eyes. Style over substance. That had been her early impression of her cousin. She had assumed there would be more to him than that but had not really had the time to go looking for it. He certainly was not shwoing her much more right now.

"And I shall be well soon. And all the sooner if I am amused. Boredom sends me petulantly back into my pillows, but news of what wags the tail of the wicked world has me sitting up and taking notice, you know ...

"For example, I understand I narrowly missed being embroiled in a duel ... and missed a murder most foul ... and I'm not referring to my own narrow escape, of course ... "

A look of interest comes to Lilly's features. It would be most interesting to know how Vialle viewed the interchange between Aisling and Martin. She listened intently for the Queen's reply.

Vialle says, "The story of the murder is true. One of the guards found the merchant Demond Harga'rel drowned in the champagne fountain. It seems someone may have taken advantage of the distraction of Dara's presence to kill him. I understand that your cousin Reid has started an investigation. I'm to meet with some of the surviving family members tomorrow, and I hope to have something to tell them." A little worried frown has marred her expression as she speaks of the merchant's demise.

"Of course," agrees Lucas.

"And of course, he's Duchess Valeria's father, so it's extremely politically sensitive."

"And related the half the Court of Rebma through his marriage, and his daughters, I believe," says Lucas quietly. "This circumstance must be peculiarly painful to you, your Majesty."

Interesting. Something shifted in Lily's mind as Lucas said those words. Sometimes things only became clear when they were voiced in such a simple way. This murder might just have to move up a notch on her own personal list of priorities after all.

Vialle nods and adds, "The duel I don't know about. I've been told Martin quarreled with Aisling and I've been told he was injured--but he seems to have left the castle without help. I'm not surprised if he's a bit--defensive--around Aisling. He was almost murdered in the war, you know, and it's made him bitter." She shakes her head sadly.

Lucas' heavy eyelids lift a fraction. "He does not speak of it," he says. "I had assumed the facts were known to ... very few."

"His father," Vialle says quietly, by way of agreement with Lucas.

"Of course," agrees Lucas. He is watching Vialle's expression, with an expression of gentle sympathy on his face - although only Lilly is in a position to register it.

"From what I gather," Lilly interjects, "There was an exchange of words. Martin does not believe Aisling's days of spying have ended. He also feels, I gather, that the information she sent is still being used against us. When the Prince brought this up, it was Aisling who became defensive. If the rumors I have heard are true, and I've no reason to believe they are not, she stopped just shy of calling him a liar at one point. Of course Martin interpreted as her calling him a liar so the semantics of it are somewhat irrelevant."

"Well, yes," says Lucas thoughtfully. "And yet that might be put to some use - although Martin is not usually amenable to sophistry, I will admit."

Lilly nods. Lucas had surprisingly voiced her own thoughts on the matter. "I expect there to be some sort of confrontation when Martin returns. It should be interesting to say the least."

"I can only hope it does not result in bloodshed," says Vialle. "Amber will need all her defenders now."

"Indeed she will," agrees Lucas. "Indeed she will. I myself am making every effort to recover apace ... "

However, reclining indolently in his furred robe in his armchair, it seems more that he is inclined to let nature take its course.

"The matter has been discussed among my fellow knights. We too would like to see a peaceful resolution." Lilly leaves it at that for the moment. She was not comfortable discussing the details of that particular discussion.

He allows a slight pause to develop before adding, "And what steps, your Majesty, do you feel are necessary to avoid this unfortunate outcome of the quarrel?"

Vialle straightens slightly. "That depends on many things. Martin is out of Amber, and Random said I was not to contact him unless--" She clamps down on that very distressing thought and goes on.

"I do not yet know whether Aisling proposes to challenge Martin for his comments, or what she might be willing to do to see the matter disposed of without a duel. Do you think it would be reasonable to delay any duel on the grounds that the current crisis does not permit it?" The Queen cocks her head in Lucas' direction, perhaps to better listen to his reply.

"That could be done," says Lucas slowly. "It would probably take an edict forbidding duelling while the current crisis lasts, and - quite frankly - I would not advise doing something that would be so unpopular and divisive.

Vialle frowns. "I had thought to forbid Martin from dueling until his father returned because of his particular duties to the crown, but you're probably right."

"I think that forbidding Martin to do something that he feels touches on his honour would not be well received," says Lucas. "Most men are sensititive in such areas - I am myself. And I feel that open conflict - or even the rumour of conflict between you and the Prince is something you would wish to avoid."

Lilly nods. She hoped her cousin realized that there were women who were sensitive those areas too. Now was not the time for that discussion however so she kept the thought to herself.

[Lucas]
"I have an alternative suggestion. I don't believe this duel can be wholly avoided - but it might be possible to mitigate the consequences. First blood, rather than death, for example. But tact ... diplomacy ... a certain finesse will all be called for.

"If you grant me the authority to act in your name in this matter - and in any other similar matters that should occur - then I shall use my best efforts to achieve a satisfactory outcome."

"If I may add your majesty, Lucas is a perhaps the best choice for this. Certainly he represents the most impartiality." Lilly says to the Queen.

Lucas smiles - it comes perilously close to being a smirk but dips one toe in those waters and retreats into blandness.

[Lilly's] body language alters slightly as she continues speaking clearly indication that her next comment is meant for Lucas as well. "You should also be aware that Aisling has made herself open to suggestions by her fellow knights as to how to handle the situation. I think she will accept any guidance we give her. Certainly none among us wish for this to end in death."

Lucas nods. "Yes," he says, "I was expecting Aisling to approach one of the Knights to act as second. Will they be amenable to that?"

"I believe so." Lilly answers.

"You see," he said to both Vialle and Lily, "it seems to me that this duel could be particularly dangerous in driving a wedge between two factions in Amber that are not yet openly acknowledged - those who fought, and those who stayed. Martin is, for various reasons, many totally unconnected with his father, pre-eminent in the second group. Aisling is identified with the first. The fact that the Knights have discussed this among yourselves is, perhaps, indicative of a greater malaise."

"Malaise?" asks Vialle. "I'm not quite sure what you mean, Lucas."

Lucas pauses, as though weighing his words, glancing at both Lilly and Vialle. "I believe that there is a very real danger of Amber, in these difficult times, either splitting into two factions or being perceived to be splitting into two factions which would, almost inevitably, lead to a real split.

"The fact that the Knights may not be the best people to advise her on the delicacies of handling such a situation in Amber itself is one example. Clearly you see yourselves as her advisers - a cohesive group. I think it would be better that if the Kinights were to meet and discuss this, it might actually be wise to have some people from ... ah ... the Stayers present, not only to give their advice - which would be useful - but also to give the appearance that this is not a partisan matter.

"The public face could start to look very ugly; that the Knights are working with a possible traitor against the Heir Presumptive. Think what the scandal sheets could do with that. But with a little thought and tact, it could be avoided."

He smiles, a little scornfully. "Not that anyone has accused me of tact lately," he murmurs.

Lilly shrugs. "The Knights of the Order of the Ruby is a cohesive group Lucas. That is the nature of any knightly order. To be honest we did not meet to discuss Aisling and Martin. We meet regularly to discuss any number of things pertaining to the safety and security of Amber. This morning was simply a scheduled meeting."

Lucas simply nods, taking the news of the meeting - if it is news to him - with unruffled calm.

She pauses for a moment to gather her thoughts before she allows herself to go off on an Aisling tangent. It's not a road she cares to take at the moment. "I should say that I do agree with you in some ways though. There are two distinct groups here in the palace right now. We have not really learned how to bridge our differences. We need to do that. Though and tact are called for in all of our actions. Not just the ones concerning Martin and Aisling."

"Indeed," says Lucas. "Worthy sentiments, which I applaud."

Then he turns to Vialle.

Who was listening with interest to the interchange.

[Lucas]
"That aside though, the whole issue of the duel is liable to lead noble hotheads to imitate royal examples. That is why the authority to act in your name would be beneficial. I would wish to hold discussions with the Watch as the best way to proceed, and then to take action as they and I deem appropriate, without running to you each time for permission to do this or that - delightful though it is to run to you, my Queen. Still, I am sure to find other occasion for that."

Vialle laughs lightly. "I am sure you will, Lucas. Very well, I'll have a patent written up appointing you--what? Official mediator? There won't be that many duels, I hope; the dueling class isn't that large, or that quarrelsome, most of the time. There will be some violent quarrels in the lower classes, but Sir Archer won't need your help to mediate there. He'll just arrest the perpetrators. Still, it can't hurt to coordinate things with him."

"I think that is an excellent suggestion," says Lucas. "As for titles ... I am not sure this will take sufficient of my time to merit a title. But Official Mediator will do as well as another, I imagine. Who knows," he added with a glance at Lilly, "it might even suggest to the Knights that such a Mediator could be useful in overcoming what is perceived to be a division in our ranks, to filch a military metaphor which I am, of course, totally unentitled to use."

Lilly is treated to a particularly lizard-like smile.

From the return look it is quite clear Lilly gets his point. It was something she would discuss with the others in due time.

Vialle says, "Let us all hope the Knights do not consider Martin's behavior to make the office necessary."

"I think," says Lucas with careful delicacy, "that this issue of division goes somewhat deeper than Martin's behaviour - or, indeed, the behaviour of any individual."

"Of course," Vialle agrees with him. "But it is particularly unfortunate that it was Martin, given his position and the influence he has among the members of the Regency Council. That makes the division much more obvious and potentially difficult to mend. I am fortunate to have your aid in doing so, Lucas."

"You know, my Queen, that I am always happy to serve you," returns Lucas, his voice a little lowered.

"Now, let us turn our minds to more important matters. I wish you would do me the honour of feeling my hat. Doubtless you have been told of the abominable injury I have suffered, and I fear for some days I must be behatted to compensate for this ... My sweet Hope has been at great pains to find the soft possible fur and feathers to trim this particular headpiece and has, I am happy to say, produced something rather fine - although I suspect my mother added the finishing touches. But it would send Hope into ecstatic delight if the next time you meet with her, you could assure her that you have never touched softer fur or a finer feather."

He reaches out to take her hands gently and guide them.

A look of amused delight comes to Lilly's face. Whatever she thought of Lucas and his politics she had firmly put aside for the moment. Right now she saw only a devoted father. It was that image that seemed to please her more then any other.

Vialle lets Lucas take hold of her hands and, with his assistance, reaches over to stroke the cap and its soft decorations. She smiles as her fingertips lightly touch the fur and feathers.

"I will be certain to tell her so," Vialle says.

"Thank you," says Lucas. "She has still not forgotten the day you let her handle one of your sculptures. I believe she has an artistic soul."

Vialle smiles.

"Speaking of your family Lucas, if there is anything I can do to aid them, right now be sure to let me know." Lilly says. She realizes he has probably had a hundred such offers but she still feels obliged to make her own. Even with the obligation though the sentiment is sincere.

Another heavy-lidded look from Lucas and then a smile. "I shall pass your kind offer to Solace. She has been much stregthened to know how many kind friends she has in the Castle."

"If there is anything I can do, or have done, for either of you, do not hesitate to let me know either," Vialle offers.

From the corner of their eyes, Lucas and Lilly can see that Gaston has returned. He glances significantly at the door, as if there is someone waiting beyond it.

"Thank you," says Lucas to Vialle, his voice unruffled. To Gaston he makes a sign, which the man acknowledges with a bow of his head before withdrawing.

"I think, at the moment, the greatest service you could both render me is to assure my mother and Gerard how well you found me. Otherwise I fear I shall be immured within my chamber walls for an almost indefinite period.

"And the greatest kindness you can do, my Queen, is to visit me if you should find time again. Although, I hope, on our next encounter, it is I who will come to you."

Lilly remains passive. Any report she gave to Florimel or Gerard was sure to be accurate. She was not about to promise anything other. Still he did seem well enough. If this were a desperate situation she might not even see the point of wasting a man in such good condition. But it was not that type of war. They had time. The better rested he was the more useful he would be.

Vialle's smile is evident in her voice as she agrees, "I hope so as well. I will tell your mother and your physician that I found you surprisingly well and alert." She leans forward and slides her arms around Lucas in a kinswoman's embrace, then releases him.

"And now we'll take our leave, and let you rest, Lucas. I'll call on you again tomorrow, unless Gerard pronounces you fit to visit me first."

[Lilly] allows the Queen closing words before voicing her own. A simple '"good day" before departing.