After-Dinner Discussions

Good as his word, Jovian will instruct the nearest servant to hand regarding production of an Amberite-sized leftover sub - and a pitcher of good dark beer. He does not actively discourage Flora, acknowledging her with a smile as she remains.

"I don't want to hold you back from anything of moment, Bloodflower. But I admit it's a pleasure to have company." He salutes her and drinks.

"Oh, no, the pleasure is mine," Flora says. "How was your flight, other than tiring?"

"Reassuring, in a way," he says after a moment's thought. "There had been some concern that the firelillies would blaze a trail back toward Chaos, despite my brother's being Trumped through. That worry, at least, is behind us. And there's a kind of comfort to be had in straight flight through a clear, cool night. Have you flown much, yourself?"

"Not on dragonback. Jets are a little different," Flora says, winking at Jovian.

"Mm," he nods around a mouthful of sandwich, swallowing. "Heard about that, but I've never been on one. The idea of moving through the air in a sealed capsule..." He shakes his head. "But so says the fellow who's used to flying from bed to breakfast," he adds with a wink of his own.

"I'm glad to hear there's no trail back. Another bloody road to the far end of the universe is the last thing we need right now."

Jovian nods gravely. "I might let Lucas have some firelillies after all, if he's content to spill a little of his blood and let me have what grows from it." Deadpan, that, but utterly without malice. "What would, do you suppose?" He does not move to suggest anything, but his eyes twinkle with mischievous humor under a mock-serious Julianic brow.

"Some sort of rose, I think. Very pretty, but with monstrous thorns, sharper than a serpent's tooth." Flora winks. "Is your father serious about this war in Arden?"

"I'm afraid he is," the dragonman reflects. "Arden has become much more dangerous without the Pattern's stability. The Arcadians and their personal problems could spill over into our territory at any time." He pauses to eat and drink some more, under the cloud of his own morose thoughts.

"Osric and Finndo were long gone before you were born, right?"

"Oh, yes. They were almost forgotten by all save Benedict, and perhaps Eric. And our father, of course," Flora looks a bit disconcerted. "Why do you ask?"

"There are...complications down there, that go back to Finndo's stweardship of Arden. And I've got this nagging feeling that with the right details added to the picture, the whole mess can be untangled with a lot less trouble all around." He meets her eyes, shaking his head and smiling wanly. "What a quaint, romantic notion. It must be nice to be larger than life."

"Oh, Jovian, it's not that bad, is it? But it must be; Julian has closed Arden." She starts to reach for his hand, and decides against, probably because he's still eating. Her perfectly-manicured fingers end up resting on the table.

The wingleader sets his cup down and his hand meets hers halfway. He meets her eyes as well, with a half-smile both wry and wan.

"Is this something to do with the Deep Green? You should ask Corwin about that. When he was the Warden, he dealt with that--and quite effectively, as I recall. He trained your father before they fell out."

"Deep Green...Robin uses that as a curse, you know. How do you use it?"

"It's a part of Arden," says Flora. "Trouble comes from there. Dragon trouble, and--other things. But the dragon trouble is the worst. I'm not surprised your sister uses it as a curse. I'm sure your father has cursed it often enough."

"So she meant that literally," Jovian murmurs, mostly to himself but aloud. "But the dragons I know are social, not terri--"

Beat.

Beat.

"--torial," he finishes, looking stricken.

"Tell me what you know about this," the dragonman urges - his voice almost commanding, his eyes pleading.

Flora looks very concerned now. "I don't know much. Just that there's always been trouble from the Deep Green. When the things from the Black Road started coming, at first we just thought it was the old trouble. It was only later that we realized that there was a difference between the two."

She frowns, and an adorable dimple appears on her chin. "Corwin mastered it when he was Warden of Arden, so that it didn't trouble us any more for a time. Then he left--this was before he and Eric fought and he was lost in Shadow for those many years--and for a time there was no Warden. Eventually the troubles started again, and your father took up the job. He wrestled with things for a time, then there was peace. But he wasn't satisfied with whatever had happened. He's been looking for a way to solve the problem permanently ever since. It's one reason he doesn't get along with Corwin and never has."

"How bad did the...Dragon trouble get?" Jovian asks in a tone that says he wants to be told his suspicions are wrong. He has not released Flora's hand, and now his fingers move to interlace with hers in much the way his eyes hold her gaze, seeking reassurance that he's half sure will not come.

"Very bad." Flora says, permitting Jovian the additional intimacy. "He lost a lot of his men. It was why he started creating special mounts, I think -- something to fight the dragon more effectively with."

Jovian's eyes drop. "He had one, you know," he answers, barely more than a whisper. "Dad never told me what happened to him. How long ago was the worst of it?" he adds, lifting his gaze to meet Flora's eyes, halfway between searching and resignation.

Flora is watching him, a bit curiously. Her voice is sympathetic. "A while ago. Five centuries, well before Corwin left. And there were several flareups, the last a couple of hundred years ago, maybe a hundred and fifty. It seems we're having another one, then?"

"A hundred and fifty," Jovian nods ruefully. "Right around when he came back from Calusa. It fits."

Eyes and jaw both close tight, deep lines forming between his brows. His hold on Flora's hand tightens just a little. Things are rapidly becoming too much for him, and it is starting to show.

Flora makes no move to withdraw her hand from her nephew's grasp; in fact, she places her other hand over his, so she is holding his hand in both of hers.

"Jovian, are you all right? Do I need to send for something from the infirmary for you?"

"No...no," he demurs. "Just...it's too much, too fast. My people that we lost. Daeon. Valenth." He meets Flora's eyes, and for just a moment despite the turmoil it's like seeing her for the first time.

"Aisling," the whisper catches in his throat.

It almost seems that he wants to break the gaze, but can't.

Flora shatters the tableau by gently drawing Jovian into her arms. "It's all right, Jovian. We've all been through a lot. The troubles, the battle, and everything since. We've all been under phenomenal stress. It's a wonder we haven't all broken."

His hold is almost fiercely tight, burying his face in her hair. He draws a deep, shuddering breath, and her warmth, perhaps her scent, seems to calm him a little. Still holding tight, he softly kisses at the nape of her neck - part gratitude, part something related but stronger.

Flora's arms have enfolded Jovian, holding him close, comforting him. There's a pause, perhaps a moment too long, when his mouth touches her skin.

"Jovian?"

He pauses in turn - not releasing his hold, his face still lost in her hair. A little faraway sort of questioning noise escapes his throat.

Flora pulls back a little, disentangling from Jovian far enough that she can look the young dragonrider in the eye. Her lips are slightly parted, and her eyes are shining.

"There's no such thing as plausible deniability, you know."

"No," he breathes, his eyes shining as well, for a range of conflicting reasons the relationship goddess of Amber would have no trouble guessing. In the pause that follows his hand rises with its own will to caress her ear, warm her cheek.

"There isn't." And, his eyes closing, he leans in until their mouths meet.

Flora leans in at the last moment to meet him. Her kiss is like fire, sweet and warm, and yet burning.

Reid catches up with [Llewella] in the hallway. "At one point the Queen suggested you might be able to help out in the Harga'rel investigation. Do you have any insight into any of the avenues we're currently exploring?"

She turns back and waits for him. "There are some things I can look into, Reid." She pauses, briefly. "How confident are you in your sources? There are certainly some who might...resent the castle getting involved, even with our involvement by virtue of the location of the killing. Some people who might be used to what might be called benign neglect won't take kindly to intervention."

"Those I have in my employ currently doing the legwork, are trustworthy. I have asked for facts more than opinions. I am hoping that by collecting and collating such facts, I can come to the correct conclusion. So my confidence in my sources is high... there should be little room for them to make error, and if they do, there is good chance that through corroboration of others, their oversights can be taken out of the pool of knowledge. Unfortunately, intervention by the castle has been asked for, and it is not my place to go against that request at this time. The way I see it, a swift resolution of this matter should leave the victim's family happy; the villain's associates perturbed; and have little effect on the rest of the population in the grand scheme of things." Reid replies.

She nods, but not at anything in particular. "The victim's family may well try to make itself happy. Drowning is, of course, unknown in Rebma, and it will be particularly disturbing to those close to the Sapphire Throne. Do you know if the Rebmans have discovered that Thalia has fled the city?"

"That I don't know. Do you think she's a likely suspect? As much as I'm all for the family taking its own revenge, that doesn't seem to be the polite thing to do, so I'd like to keep as tight a rein as I can so that things are done by the book... per the Queen's request." Reid replies.

"My brother Bleys, would say, if he were wont to explain himself, that the secret of making things look effortless is extensive contingency planning and a ruthless ability to switch to the plan that yields the best results. What would we do if they did kill someone who they thought was guilty? Or if your investigators were killed for getting to close to someone's closely held secrets? What does it tell you that Thalia has fled?"

"Any further murders would just make my life more difficult, unless it steadily decreased the pool of subjects, in which case... As to Thalia's disappearance... I'd like to get to the bottom of it." Reid sighs.

Llewella pulls out a cigarette from a delicate case. "If we fail to deliver justice, then it will diminish our influence. I am tempted to recommend to her majesty that she involve Sir Brennan and his proto-Army. Do you think you could work with him?"

"We seem to have gotten along well enough together. I've been reminded on more than one occasion since my return, however, that private armies are out of vogue. If scores were settled one on one we'd probably have fewer complaints from the street sweepers. But if wall of force is deemed necessary, his is as good as any to employ." Reid concedes.

[Llewella]
"Thalia is a delicate question. Gateway is not an easy ally of anyone, and Gatwegans tend to do as they please, regardless of the costs to others. And yet we cannot raze the embassy to the ground and spread crushed shell fragments over the ashes.

"However, if you need troops, you will not be in a position to tarry overlong waiting for them."

"We will see if it comes to that." Reid sighs. "Do check and see if any of your sources can shed any light on the matter, and let me know."

"I shall. If I can help you or focus light on any issues of Rebma, please ask me."

With that she bids you a good evening and departs.
[EoT, unless you throw a knife at her back...]

Reid fingers the cold steel of the throwing dagger in his pouch, caressing the edge as it slices open his fingertip, blood tickling out into waxed leather. He smiles to himself, and turns away from the diminishing target to return to his room.

Lucas moves to catch up with [Vialle and Lilly].

"I have something to show you," he says to Vialle.

The corner of Lilly's mouth quirks slightly at Lucas's choice of words. Despite that, her eyes held keen interest. Unless Lucas or Vialle asked for privacy, she was going to stay at the Queen's side.

"What is it, Lucas?" Vialle asks. She shows no sign of requiring or even desiring privacy.

"A sculpture," says Lucas. "A tiny one. Hope made it - and I promise I would obtain your opinion on it. She is taking to painting too - although her renditions are - I profoundly hope - not life-like. At least, not the one of me."

Earlier in the evening Lilly had vowed to give up trying to understand Lucas. Now his actions were threatening her resolve. Vaguely she wondered what truly lie beneath his skin. Surely most of his outrageousness had to be act. He was a subject she looked forward to discussing with Paige.

"You know I'm always happy to spend time with Hope," Vialle says, breaking into a genuine smile for perhaps the first time all evening, certainly since she welcomed Jovian.

After Marius breaks off with Jovian, he will be attempting to follow Lilly and Vialle to speak with them, but he would politely hang back if Lucas was there, just outside conversation range.

Lucas glances at him and quirks an eyebrow with a small gesture of his hand that says, "Join us, if you wish."

Aloud he says, "Marius?" with a faint interrogative note.

Marius steps nearer to take a more active stance, closer to Lilly and the Queen. "Cousins," he nods to Lucas and Lilly, and then, "Your Majesty," with the usual warmth to Vialle. "I had a chance moment of thought that I hoped to share on the nature of dreams versus reality. But please, Lucas, my musings are only that," he suggests letting his more debonair cousin take lead on whatever it is he's about.

Lilly gives a look to Marius that suggests keen interest in whatever it was he had to say. The subject of dreams was one of her current obsessions.

"Oh, no, I love talking about dreams," says Lucas almost greedily. "Particularly one's own, of course. So thrilling. One of the greatest trials of Amber is there are no decent Jungian analysts here. I think the family must have scared them all off generations ago. It happens, you know. I have several separate analysts in my past who declared themselves willing to commit to small but not neglible pensions for me as long as I agreed never to visit them again. People can be so thoughtful."

Lilly looks nearly stunned by his words. Why did people have to be so damn difficult to understand? If only she had the key to unlocking his mind. Certainly there must be a wealth of useful information contained within him. The problem, as Lilly saw it, would be retrieving any of it. The questions she asked may very well not be the ones he answered. That would only lead to further frustration.

He looks expectantly at Marius.

"If we are to have a long discussion, perhaps we should find somewhere to sit down," Vialle says. "We could talk about dreams for a long time, I think."

The corners of her mouth droop slightly as she speaks.

"That would be a wise idea," Lilly says quickly. "Since we all seem to have strong opinions on the subject, and since it is something at had wished to discuss with you, your majesty, perhaps it would be good to do it now while we are all thinking about it." There is an eagerness in Lilly's voice that is almost never present. She was actually looking forward to the chance to have this discussion.

"Take my arm, if you are tired," says Lucas to Vialle. He moves close to her and allows their forearms to brush together - a gentle way of allowing her to sense his position, and to take his support if she needs to.

"Very well," says Vialle, and her voice is half hopeful and half filled with dread. "Let's go to my office." She accepts the offer of Lucas' arm.

He will allow Vialle to choose their destination, and will there escort her to a seat - preferably a sofa where he can sit beside her and carefully take out a small clay sculpture of a lopsided bird for Vialle to hold and feel.

The foursome finds its way to the Queen's office. A page is sent for coffee and a selection of little chocolates, and when he returns coffee is poured. Vialle knows the tastes of each of her companions, and each of them finds his or her coffee perfect.

("Coffee, minus the coffee. Thank you." Well, that'd've been _my_ preference. Marius seems to be a Strong Coffee drinker in the sense of, "It doesn't taste very good, but it probably will keep you awake two or three days on a normal constitution.")

She accepts the sculpture from Lucas and runs her fingers over it while waiting for Marius to begin.

Lilly finds a chair in a corner where she can view not just the group but the door as well. Her seat also allows for her to perch comfortably while still wearing her blade. For the moment, she sips patiently at her coffee seemingly content to listen to what the gentleman have to say.

[Lucas] looks up at Marius expectantly.

Marius rubs his hands together for a moment, and leans back, considering. "A brief visit with Cousin Lucas provided me with an interesting side trip. It involved an fairly unsuccessful discussing of the matter of dreams and fears with a number of people affected by the disturbances here in the castle. While I suspect that the ones who claimed they felt unnaturally weak may be of, `the more dramatic sort,' it did bring to mind something I had learned from the troops in regards of the trip from Chaos, and what had been said in regards to...bad dreams." He takes a breath. "I understand that dreams are very personal, so I must ask that you excuse the fact that I seem to have no hesitance to ask directly, have any of you been experiencing...unusual dreams?"

Without hesitation Lilly says, "While voyaging home from chaos I dreamt of snowcapped mountain peopled by giants, a man holding a dying boy in his arms, a woman running through an empty city fleeing a fire, a man and a woman sitting cross-legged on pillows while drinking from tiny cups. Throughout the dream there was this sense of urgency, unbalance, and quickness. As I awoke I had the feeling of something being very wrong with the universe at large.

"Later, after the return, I had a chance to discuss such matters with our dear Aisling. She told me that she had a dream that in tone sounded very like a piece of a dream she remembered having, once she finally slept after moving the valley. In her words her dream was 'Urgent, unbalanced, speedy' with bits of images. She spoke of a great tower falling; a man thrashing another man; a woman smashing a mirror; a woman singing to a group of very hairy deer-things. In her estimation her dream seemed more violent then mine.

"Like you I found this strange and thought to investigate further. With all that has been happening though I fear I have been lax in doing that," she finishes then takes a long sip of coffee.

Lucas is looking interested. "I seem to have been singularly free of dreams of vile portents ... of dreams of any kind," he says at last, a faint note of disappointment in his voice. Then he frowns. "At least - as far as I can recall." In a half involuntary gesture he raises his hand towards his mutilated ear.

Vialle says quietly, "I have also had disturbing dreams. But mine go back several years, as some of you know." She inclines her head toward Lucas.

"I can't tell you much about the dreams, but they're--very frightening. I know my son is dead. Not a baby, either, but a grown man. I don't think that's the only thing that scares me, though, but I can't remember much else."

Marius knows better than to ask what he looks like. [grins] He sighs just barely audibly, his smile growing thin.

Lucas moves forward slightly in his seat and - if she permits it - takes one of her hands in his. "I remember," he says quietly. "And my own experiences of fatherhood have given those images a new intensity for me."

Vialle permits Lucas to take her hand. In fact, she seems quite reassured by it.

Lilly gives the queen a wasted questioning glance then shakes her head as she realizes her usually tact will be of no use. She was just going to have to ask outright, "Your majesty, I do not wish to offend, but your son? I would like to assume we are speaking of a yet to be born child but I know better then to do that. Are we talking about an existing person? Or might your son be symbolic of something or someone else? Something you hold as dearly as you would your own offspring perhaps?"

Lucas waits for Vialle's reply, gently stroking the back of her hand as he frowns slightly.

"I don't know what it means. I've never borne a child, so it can't be a child of mine that died. If it's a symbol, I don't know what it's for." Lucas can feel a slight trembling in Vialle's hand as she speaks.

"It reminds me of another's dream I chanced to hear, where yet another identity was masked. I believe that it is a dream's method of allowing one to keep options open for the perfect fit. We will know who the individual is," Marius suggests, "when circumstances provide."

He looks up at Lilly for a moment, judging, then thinks better of what he was going to say.

"There are a number of experiments which come to mind immediately, but I fear I do not have the proper charm to lead them." [Marius] chuckles, self-depreciatingly. "Lucas, without prying too deep into your concerns, I find I must ask: have you had more contact with Chaos than the tip of your ear?"

Lucas shakes his head. "That - and a conversation with Aisling - amounts to about the sum of it," he admits. "I suspect your experience is more pertinent than mine ... "

He frowns thoughtfully. "Perhaps, cousins, we would undertake a more methodical investigation of this? Dreams are the stuff of anecdotes ... but there may also be a pattern here that we should investigate. If one person dreams of a tower struck by lighting, we might interpret it as fear of impotence, but if twenty people do ... it might be time to consider low level housing ...

"One thing I would is whether those people who have disappeared reported bad dreams to their family ... it's probably nothing, as her Majesty is still here, and so are you, Lilly. But that could be explored - as well as whether those in Chaos on the whole have more bad dreams than those who stayed. Again, her Majesty seems to share bad dreams ... but we might be able to establish trends."

He appears to consider. "Asking people to recount their dreams might alarm some people - I suspect a way round it could be found. Indeed, one or two occur to me already ... "

Marius chuckles. "It would be best if you did the asking, should you have a plan. I have," he glances upwards for a moment, then grins far more broadly, "a seeming knack for inciting people towards riot rather than reassurance."

"When you have a mother-in-law like mine," says Lucas drily, "you learn the gentle art of amelioration. I have some ideas, based around the fact that people in general just adore talking about themselves - frequently to total strangers if the strangers boast a Theory and a string of meaningless initials trailing from their name like an incontinent afterthought."

"Patterns may help to solve this puzzle. Undoubtedly if these dreams are being caused by one entity then eventually we should be able to determine a sameness to them." Lilly says. She takes a sip of coffee before continuing on.

"The question that keeps coming to my mind is why? Are we being given warnings and if so are they meant to be beneficial? If not for a benefit than to what aim? To keep us off guard? To keep us from a solid sleep and thus prevent good thought during the light of day?"

Lucas, who perhaps has rather different values on the virtues of sleep than the others present, decides not to point out that he frequently arrives at what he considers good thought during the dark of night.

[Lilly]
"Perhaps they are simply to unbalance us and keep us ill at ease."

"Perhaps," says Lucas thoughtfully, "they are arising not from a malicious intent - but from the absence of a good one ... "

[Lilly]
"Perhaps those answers can be found in more questions, questions concerning not the reasons for the dreams, but their contents; Do they dreams hold portents or are they shards of the past? Is there physical truth to them or are they merely a reflection of our inner most thoughts and fear?

"The last question, and perhaps the most important, how can dreams be effected? What sort of sorcery allows someone or something to do what we suspect is being done?

"Over and over these questions play in my head, begging for answers. It frustrates me to no end that I have none to give," Lilly says finally.

"Do we know if any of the other members of the Regency Council have had such nightmares, either?" Vialle asks. "I wish Fiona were here. She promised me some help with my dreams, and she gave me a charm to drive them off, but it failed me when Random left."

Lucas looks up sharply at Vialle's oblivious face.

"None have revealed such to me, but I have been wroth to ask." [Marius] is quiet while he gets his thoughts in order. "Lilly, when you said patterns may help to solve this problem, did you think...of such things literally?" he asks. "If we are bespelled, could it relate to the break below?" He shrugs. "Otherwise, I have always dreamt, although there are now dreams of such...vivacity, I hesitate to deny them." He glances at Vialle. "Your majesty, if they were potent enough to require a charm, had Fiona any other advice or discussion?"

Lucas leans beack in his chair, listening, the faint mark of a crease between his brows.

Vialle turns to face Marius. "She said it was a temporary measure, and it would help me if the dreams came from outside. And that she would do more later to help me. But that was before Brita was taken, of course."

She adds: "It could just be that the dreams come from inside me and I didn't have any between when she gave me the charm and when Random left, of course."

"I think," says Lucas, "we are in danger here of speculating on the basis of too small a sample. Some of the dreams seem related to Chaos, some perhaps to the situation in Amber. But .... until we have a rather wider sample of information, our guesses are likely to be best described as wild, or more charitably as vague.

"If my aunt was of the opinion that these dreams might come from without - did she suggest any particular potential source? Or was it more in the nature of an all points warning?"

Vialle swallows. She says, "Fiona said she would have to study me to see where the dreams are coming from. She didn't suggest anything beyond that."

Lucas's hold on her hand becomes more supportive.

"I think," he says, glancing at the Knights, "that if any of us have any more of these dreams, or hear of others having them, then we should share our information."

"Agreed," Lilly says before turning her attention to the Queen. "It has been a long evening your majesty, I am certain you could use some rest. Why don't you let me escort you to your rooms?"

Vialle smiles graciously at Lilly. "I would like that. Unless you have more counsel on the matter of dreams, Marius?"

"It would delight me, your Majesty, if I could offer solutions rather than questions, but for now, my counsel is warded with mystery." Marius smiles. "However, I offer you my appreciation for your time," he includes his Cousins in that with a gesture Vialle won't be able to see, "and the sincerest wishes of a peaceful night's sleep, in hopes that those alone may protect you from any thoughts and dreams that worry you. May Lilly and your guards be wary of anything but the fairest of sweet dreams." He winks at his fellow Knight.

Gerard is wheeling himself down the hall and Caine is walking beside him. They are a quite a ways ahead of Brennan, so he'll either have to hustle to catch up with them or call out to get their attention.

Brennan has long legs. He can hustle, and he makes enough noise with boots to floor that they'll hear him coming.

"Uncles," he says, when he catches up with them. "I'm the one who pressed her into that meeting a few days ago in the first place, patchwork as it was. And she's a Knight Commander. I'm about as invested as anyone, and more responsible than most. I'd like to help get to the bottom of all of this."

He pauses very briefly, then continues, "We told you what we think. I'm very curious about your takes on the whole damned mess."

Gerard snorts and Caine says "Come with us." He leads the way down the hall to a side room.

Caine sits lightly in a chair opposite Gerard's wheelchair. "There are three possibilities: She found a way to escape from a place she should not have been able to escape from, she left voluntarily with aid from outside, or she was abducted. There are very few who could achieve any of those outcomes. I would not suggest that you tangle with anyone who can break into my places. This is my business, now. I do not take kindly to anyone interfering with my captives."

Gerard hesitates and Caine continues. "Given what she'd revealed and what I found out from her, both in what she said and what she didn't, it may be for the best if she was rescued or fled. The reason I want to find out what happened is because of the increased threat to Amber in the third case."

Brennan nods slightly, but otherwise keeps a still face. He looks to Gerard, who had been hesitating and silent, to make sure he doesn't want to add something. He did ask both-- the least he can do is wait to make sure he's gotten two responses.

"Caine's right about his business," says Gerard. "I'm more worried about what inner workings Aisling knew that someone might learn from her. This could be hard for your people, Brennan."

Brennan lets out a quick, but deep sigh of agreement. He takes Gerard's comment as an invitation to sit down, and does so.

"Yes. Now we need to worry about not only the impersonation of everyone she had reported on prior to the war, but probably of the Knights themselves. And I'm sure her disappearance will be noted by those godforsaken broadsheets. All on top of the Daeon situation." He continues responding to Gerard, "At least now I know she didn't run from Amber itself, which inclines me away from malice as a motive, for the moment."

Several things are left unstated, one of which is, 'and toward simple boneheadedness.'

Gerard's brow knits as he listens to Brennan. "I think they'll be more worried about Random or the great hulking dragons, both o' which are a wee bit more noticeably missing than Aisling."

Brennan gives the absence of a frown. "I suppose I'll have to make sure that happens, if at all possible. Not that any of them are qualified to figure out what Random is likely doing, I'd think."

Caine smirks. "If they need to be stirred up, see if you can get them to call for war on the basis of Lucas's injury. 'The War of Lucas's Ear' has a nice ring to it." He drops the smirk. "Talk to 'M'. Or have Cambina do it."

Brennan savors the image for a moment.

Then he turns to Caine, "But even if she wasn't captured, the danger is still high. Prior to this mess, the people who knew about her hiding place were her, Martin, and Dara. Martin and Cambina went to search it long ago but found nothing of any interest. Not any of the papers she subsequently mentioned, or even the remains of the papers she was in the process of burning.

"Unless one of the principles has an unbelievably big mouth, that leaves Dara as the winner of that race. The idea that Dara the Sorceror took the remains of the papers is troublingly curious. The idea that however she took them left the fireplace looking as though it had never ever been used," he enunciates carefully, "is just plain troubling. It's near certainty that Dara knows everything in those papers, even the ones that were burned, and has everything of interest that might have been there.

"And even if Aisling merely escaped, she's still a target for Dara or any other axe-grinding Chaosi out there. All of which," he turns his attention back to Gerard, "Is why I'm worried. But even though I'm not sure what I'd ask for, I can't ask for help without offering mine first in good faith."

"I intend to find her, Brennan, but I won't commit to bring her back. That will depend on the circumstances under which I find her and what it takes and what I find out. It may be best for her to not be brought back, or it may be best for Amber. I have always prided myself on letting people have enough rope to hang themselves, if that was their desire and their destiny. Aisling has been very aggressive in taking that rope.

"But yes, I will take you up on your offer of help. What has Aisling told you that might be relevant to this, especially anything she failed to tell the two of us the other day?"

Brennan is not Vere, but he gives that a good think, and he has a very good memory for peoples' words and actions. After a minute or two, he shakes his head. "Not a thing, that I can recall. I came with her as much to jog her memory and get it all out, as to give her someone in the audience on her side. Related functions, I thought. I've turned it over in my head, though, trying to come up with a lens through which all her actions make sense." He holds up a hand, "other than simple malice or ignorance.

"What I keep coming back to is the recollection that she was made for her purpose. I don't think I'm suggesting she had no free will. Only that being created for a purpose may have colored her thoughts in a way I haven't understood, yet."

He shrugs, then returns to the first part of what Caine said. "I don't ask for things I know I won't get and can't force. I intend to see her found, too. I will make inquiries with the other end of the family, if time permits. Will you tell me what you find?"

"You may have better success than I do. I'll be happy to share whatever knowledge I find. If she was taken by the other end of the family, she's probably beyond our help, if she even wanted it. If you do meet Madoc, you might want to keep the fact that we've lost his daughter on this side of the family."

Gerard snorts.

...At the same time Brennan does. "I'll let you know what I find out, if anything."

Caine adds, "I trust you're working to lessen any impact to your knights of whatever is discovered about Aisling."

He nods.

"With the timing on this? A sneak attack at Coronation by Chaosi, castle staff and more dead, and now Aisling runs off? They're all going to get a good lesson in keeping their heads down and not rising to bait. They need a good reason to feel secure that the man they're standing next to is not an impersonator, too, if one can be arranged. Maybe Brita can teach someone her trick," he says, sourly. "Cloudeater, her affine, needs to be looked after closely, for his own protection and for our best interests."

"And most of all, what they need is some public and important victory, for everyone's morale."

[Caine]
"That sounds potentially interesting. What do you think would do the trick?"

Brennan shrugs.

"Barring a plan to procure Dara's head on a pike as a warning to the next ten generations of Chaosi? The biggest direct threat brewing on the horizon that I perceive is this Arcadia business. While Julian might consider this unwanted interloping on his territory, his two sons are Knights Commander, and one of them has yet to be snatched loose from Artemis.

"But I barely know the man. What do you think his reaction would be?"

Gerard considers that, and after a moment speaks. "He's a proud man, our Jules, and he'll nae take well to any thought that he can't resolve the matter on his own. If it could be cast as a matter of Amber's good, and not a question of his personal weakness, he might take your aid. But even so, he'll do better with one or two of you than with a whole squadron."

Caine nods agreement. "And whatever you do, don't so much as think about Corwin hard."

If they listen, the Admirals can probably hear Brennan thinking back over various snippets and snatches of conversation, wedging Caine's comment in with the rest. They can probably also see the mental, "Oh," on his face.

As it is, after a long moment, "I'll keep it in mind, especially if I'm the one to approach him." Then, addressing Gerard, "You're probably right about the size of the group. It needs to be more than just a Knight Commander or two, if it happens, because the rank and file need the involvement. But not the whole squadron, no. They're not all suited, anyway."

[I would think we're at EOT, if the Admirals are played out, but Brennan has one last small topic.]

"Not to change the topic, Prince Gerard, but have you heard from Vere or Jerod? Has Vere's walk gone well?"

"I've heard nothing yet, but that's to be expected," Gerard says placidly. "Corwin said it would be close to two weeks before he got there. He said he'd contact me with news when he had it."

[Brennan]
"I'm sure all will go well. But I wouldn't mind hearing the good news, when you have it in hand."

Gerard smiles. "I expect I'll be lettin' everyone know, if only with the fine cask we'll be opening at dinner that night."