After leaving the Queen and Lilly, Reid returns to his room to prepare a series of notes.
To Lilly:
Please meet me after dinner in the Gatwegian Collection room of the
castle library tonight after dinner.
To Stoat:
Please deliver the enclosed note to Wrack at the pawnshop on
Cuttlefish Way. The coins accompanying it should be given to Lope, the
shopkeeper, and, along with my name, should grease the wheels of
delivery. Come by the castle in the morning. I have more work I could
use your help with.
To Wrack:
Please join me for lunch at the Castle. I'd come to town, but affairs
of state require my attention here.
To May:
Murder and mayhem afoot in the Castle. Care to join me for an
investigation? Come on up in the afternoon. Pays double your day rate.
All signed
Reid
He gives Celesta instructions to deliver the notes (and coin pouch) to Stoat, May and Lilly.
Celesta comes back, reporting that all messages are delivered and that Stoat and May have agreed to come up the next day, Stoat will also carry the message to Wrack, she says.
Lilly will make herself available and be [in the library] as requested.
The Gateway collection of the castle's library is housed in a two story octagonal room adjacent to the main library. Shelves line all the walls, floor to ceiling. The second floor is not much more than a balcony encircling the room with more shelves. Both floors have ladders that can be wheeled to get the higher books, and spiral staircases connect the balcony on two opposite sides of the room. All furnishings in the room are a combination of rosewood, green marble, and brass, or the Gatwegian equivalents thereof. Various shelves hide doorways to the main library, other hallways, or nooks and cupboards.
A large partners desk sits slightly off-center on the ground floor, and it is here that Reid has set up camp, an empty chair opposite him.
He rises slightly as Lilly enters. "Thanks for coming, cousin."
Lilly bows slightly in a show of respect. She is armed, as usual, with the sword her father had created for her. "I am glad I was able to make myself available. What can I do for you?" She asks while making her way to stand before the desk.
Reid is only slightly delicate with his reply. "Well, I'm trying to figure out how best you can aid the investigation. I'm bringing in some of the undercurrent of society to dig about in town; I'll have Ossian pacify Valeria and try to glean any insight from the noble houses. Besides your sword arm, what can you bring to this that I haven't thought of or covered yet?"
It was a good question, one she had considered herself. "To be honest, I am unsure. I suppose if you need someone to deal with castle guards or knights of my order, I would be an adequate choice to do so. I seem to have gained respect among both groups. If you wish I can also aid you in organizing and recording evidence."
Lilly falls silent then for a moment. Part of her hated what she was about to say. Forcing the words she spoke again, "It has also occasionally been pointed out to me that I am a woman. As a woman there may be things I can do that would be more difficult for a man. I realize that works both ways. As you have pointed out though there are several men working this investigation as it stands. You may not need me to be another."
Reid looks at her soberly. "I need you to be yourself. Nothing more, and certainly nothing less. You're not here merely on the Queen's whim. If I didn't think you'd be a valuable asset, I wouldn't have asked you for aid out of courtesy. Guards and knights are a fine place to start. I may as well extend that and have you work with the local constabulary too. Sir Archer should be formally brought in to the matter. Not only so he doesn't feel left out, but because his involvement is just as valid as any of ours."
His words not only please Lilly, they cause her to visibly relax. "I understand. I can arrange a meeting with Sir Archer as soon as possible if you would like. I have not had many opportunities to deal with him. Is there anything I should be aware of?" she asks.
It doesn't take long for Reid to come up with an answer for that one... "He probably doesn't think highly of me...we've crossed paths before. But he's a man of duty, and if you import that this is more in the interests of the Crown than my own, he may be more helpful to you."
Lilly nods. "I understand. I will do what I can to gain his cooperation. Is there anything else we need to discuss right now?" She was not in a hurry. It was more of a matter of not wanting to waste either of their time. Surely they both had things to attend to. Socializing might be enjoyable but it was not always practical.
"No, I think we're done here. Thanks again for helping where you can. Your involvement is appreciated." Reid smiles.
As darkness deepens over Amber and environs, a mildly exasperated man dressed in leather flight gear slips a hastily penned note under the door to Marius' quarters, thus:
Cousin:
I came looking for you, for that midnight flight I promised you this morning, but you weren't around. I'm off for it notwithstanding. I'll tell you what you missed over breakfast.
- Jovian
The wind of an Archer midnight whistles past the rider's ears, his crimson silk scarf keeping his face from the chill only so well. His gaze shifts from the receding city's few remaining lights around the northeastern skirts of Kolvir, dimly seeking the edge of the great forest beyond.
//All right, Canareth. You understand the plan. We're not landing anywhere. We go between to Heather Vale, follow the burning flowers south. Stay about a length above the treetops and keep your eye on those flowers. If anything tries to force us off track, it's between back to the Vale.//
He builds the image of Heather Vale from above in his mind, its overgrowth seen in the light of the quarter moon over his shoulder. Feeling as ready as he'll ever be, he gives the coordinates directly to the calm, composed mind of his bonded and wills the pair of them between.
Black, blacker, blackest...
And in a few seconds the winds of the Archer night feel blessedly warm by comparison to the void they have passed through. Below them, Heather Vale stands mute and unimpressed, a line of tiny flames its only greeting.
The cool of the midnighted vale stretches beneath them and Canerath flaps lazily above the spot where once he held a wingleader's meeting. Jovian can see a line of firelillies, looking like bright stars reflected in a still stream, stretching into the woods. You could follow them by flying slowly back and forth just above the treetops.
The vale looks long-abandoned. A pond Jovian does not recall sits at the end of it, and both he and Canareth hear a myriad of the sounds of life from all about.
That is very interesting, since there hasn't been any rain. Is that toward the northern end of the vale, toward the source of the incursion?
It is towards the eastern end of the vale, where water would pool if the stream was dammed.
Some of the places that may once have been camping or cooking grounds for the troops look like they burned down and are covered with new growth.
Unless your eyes are deceiving you, someone is watching you from the Southern side of the treeline, (which is less distinct than you remember). You catch a glimpse of someone ducking into the forest.
Toward the south, away from Arcadia, is Jovian's intention anyway.
[Note that the GMs will neither confirm nor deny that 'south' is 'away from Arcadia'.]
[Erase and correct, for clarification's sake:]
Recalling Julian's warnings from his youth that the paths to Arcadia lay to the north, Jovian is heading south away from them anyway.
[If the paths are all twisted round since those warnings were given, then what remedy....]
But if that someone ducks into the forest significantly off of the firelilly track, he won't pursue. With all the strangeness going on lately, he's a bit concerned about getting lost.
In a lazy slalom back and forth over the trail of tiny flames, dragon and rider make their way southward, all senses alert.
The green stretches away in all directions, a glinting world of emerald shimmering in the light of the half moon. The bronze dragon and his rider slalom across the path and four eyes used to searching for thread infestations have no trouble following a trail of burning lilies.
The forest is a maze of crossing animal trails and streams. The rolling hills are dense with trees and the air is rich with life and the sounds of life. The trail at first is straight, going over obstacles into the heart of the forest. Eventually it changes and begins taking easier options. The trail meanders generally southward. It is Canareth who points out the patch of firelilies growing not just along the edge of a pond, but out of the water.
The forest is vast and primeval and green under the moonlight and if it were not for the trail of burning flowers, Jovian might well imagine that no one has been in the spots he traverses for a thousand years. It is only recently that Calusa has discovered her southern forests, and they are not as magnificent as Arden. If it is as vast as it seems, Calusa's northern continent could be lost here.
Jovian's reverie is interrupted by a change in the path he follows. He has been flying for just over 107 minutes when he spies a bright spot ahead. He is in range in moments. It is a tree, large and wide, with low limbs that reach almost to the ground. It has a large patch of the bright lilies around it, and it looks from this angle as if it has firelilies growing on many of it's lower branches.
Canareth could land near it, if Jovian wanted to inspect it. The trail continues off into the woods at an angle to the original course. Jovian thinks there are fewer firelilies in that direction, and wonders about keeping the trail.
Jovian does so, directing Canareth to land as near as he can safely.
On the ground, he will first have a close look at the flowers themselves and the ground right under them. If the accounts of how these came to be are true, the traces of blood he's looking for may still be there, particularly in the dense cluster of flowers under the tree.
The flowers are as described, beautiful lilies with rich black velvety petals and a small burning flame in the center. They smell of smoke and copper, and they do not produce very much light.
The tree does have firelilies on the lower branches, and some growing on the trunk, at least 15 feet into the air, and the firelillies are more common on the west side of the tree. Each lily is rooted firmly to something, some to the ground and some to rock or bark. Jovian may see a dab of red at the base of some of the ones on rock, or it may be his imagination.
"Hello, " says a dulcet alto voice behind him. "Who are you?"
//Canareth, how long has she been there, and where did she come from?//
//I did not notice her before she stepped out from behind a tree.//
Silently berating himself for not instructing the bronze to keep a closer watch, his rider rises and turns, unhurriedly, to face the source of the voice. "In my homeland I am called...Weyrsecond. Who are you?"
The woman is blonde and tall and wears a simple dress of blue tied at her waist. "I'm Britomartis. Your friend is very handsome. Does he speak?"
She is looking at Canareth, whose eyes are whirling is slow fascination as he returns her gaze.
Jovian drifts easily over to the bronze's side, laying a hand on his foreleg as high up as he can and still look casual doing it. "He understands the spoken word perfectly, but chooses not to speak himself. He communicates mind to mind, rather - and it's very rare that he does with anyone but me."
//Now,// he suggests in a tense mental undertone, //would not be a good time to do so either, Canareth. Something is definitely wrong here.//
//She has an interesting mind.//
//Interesting in what way?// Jovian queries, dreading the answer.
//She would make a fine candidate.//
//Is there more you can tell me about that, loquacious one?// Alas, sarcasm does tend to breeze over the heads of the Calusan behemoths....
//If there is a queen egg soon, we should consider her.//
At the same time, audibly, "He does thank you for your kind words, though. Do you meet dragons often in these woods?" Though his head might not thank him for this later, he strives to make his two-track conversation seamless.
"No. Mother doesn't let the others in. Do you know what those flowers are? We've never had them in this place before."
The others. Implying her mother is a dragon?
[In the same way that the US Navy by policy will neither deny nor confirm the presence of Nuclear Weapons on any vessel, the GMs will neither deny nor confirm the answer to any question that isn't asked of anyone.]
[Naturally. Just including some internal dialogue to put the external dialogue in its proper context.]
Jovian's bad feeling about this ramps up rather a lot.
"They're new to me," the Weyrsecond shrugs, squinting down at the little flames. "We were out flying some distance from here and saw them, wanted a closer look." He crouches down beside the line of firelillies. "Would you mind if I dug one up - just one, with just enough dirt to support its root - and took it with me? I can study it at home and send word of what I learn of it."
She looks at him oddly. "You probably shouldn't send word. My sisters are doing their level best to make this place dangerous, and I would worry about your friend. Mother is territorial.
"People who come here, sometimes they can't find their way back to the place they've come from. Especially the ones who are descended from my sister's children. It's... I was going to say 'it's complex', but it's not. It's just a war for power." Her shoulders drop a little bit when she says the last.
"I'm sorry to hear it," the rider says with unfeigned sincerity even as he masks the alarums sounding deeper in his head. "May I know who your sisters are, so that I might better avoid them?"
As he speaks he kneels and slowly draws his belt knife, a simple single-edged working blade, and gestures inquiringly at a firelilly with it.
"There are 5 of us. Britomartis, Artemis, Calliste, Lalal, and Arianrod. We were all equal in the old days, until my sister found a way to increase her power and bar us from Arcadia. My sister Calliste has been working to defeat her ever since, but it is only since the blackness came to the forest that she has made any progress. I think Artemis' children are dead or dying. I worry that Calliste will also not give up when her season passes."
"How did Artemis gain her advantage, and how long has she held it?" Jovian asks in much the tone he might ask whose turn it is to distract Lady Vesper over the cocktail hour. He carefully works his knife into the dirt around the flower, trying to gauge the size of its root system and whether it's linked with the others.
"Her children. They gave her the power to exclude us from Arcadia, and to fulfill our essential functions for the realm in our absence. Because their father was related to ours."
She comes over to examine the firelillies closely with him. "They smell like you."
This earns Jovian's very best blank look. By way of answer, he sniffs tentatively at the flowers, not closely enough to singe his nose.
Not that Jovian can tell, no. It smells of wet ashes, but only very faintly.
She looks around and picks up a small rock, about two inches long. On it are growing 3 firelillies. She offers it to Jovian.
"Thank you, Britomartis" he says, accepting the rock and flowers with a self-conscious little smile.
"May I ask your father's name?"
She nods, and gets a faraway look in her eyes. "He was her guardian and gaolkeeper and eventually lover. He was the Lord Warden of Arden, and in those days the forest was wilder and younger. I did not know him well; he died before I came fully into my power. He was a god in his own right, and the son of gods. His name was Finndo."
Jovian nods slowly. "I have heard that name, echoed in legends in places I have traveled. It is even said that a son of his lives yet. And Arden is a name I think I know as well. Was that the place where I first saw the flame-flowers, where I think I saw you watching me?"
She smiles. "I admit it. I like dragons. Arden is the forest. There are places within Arden and like Arden, and of Arden, and near to Arden, but it is the center of the world. And Arcadia is the center of Arden, in the same way that an oak is the center of an acorn."
Jovian smiles back, warmly, and considers Britomartis' world-view for a moment. Comparing it to Robin's causes him to suppress a chuckle, but then he grows serious once again. "Britomartis...say someone found a way to curtail Artemis' power to keep you and your other sisters away, without a full-out war among your sisters. Would you or Lalal or Arianrod be willing to help? And could you keep Artemis and Calliste from making war on those responsible for breaking up their game?"
"Artemis' power is tied to her children. One is dead. The other is in grave danger. His children are being called to war, and it saps him. I suspect that Calliste will eventually break through, or her children will, and then they will hunt for and kill Artemis's son.
"I do not know how my sisters would react to your overtures. For all that we are sister goddesses, I am often unable to understand them.
"What plan do you propose, Weyrsecond? How do you think this can be stopped?"
"I don't have a plan yet," the dragonrider admits. "I have an inkling of a notion of the direction an idea could come from. Perhaps I could find another of the blood of Finndo and seek aid on your behalf in restoring the balance. Perhaps the children of Artemis' son can be diverted, somehow kept from fighting for her. But it would break my heart to try to aid you, and only succeed in starting a war of all against all. I would need to know that your sisters would work at restoring peace instead of following the worse example." His manner is not lecturing - there is warmth there, and earnest tones of appeal.
"I do not want such a war. I would have to speak to my sisters about what they want. I think Calliste may have been driven somewhat mad by what Artemis did. Artemis is goddess of Love, but her love of her children have made that into a selfish love."
Canareth's rider nods thoughtfully, and asks gently, "what are you the goddess of, Britomartis?"
Britomartis looks distressed. "The pattern of the seasons is disrupted. I should be the goddess of wisdom, but there is no certainty now.
"We are goddesses, in some ways more constrained in our choices than the lowliest insect. I think if we all had twins or we were all childless, balance would be restored."
Another thoughtful nod. "But I fear that if you all bore children of Finndo's blood, it would only broaden the conflict. There is much to consider here...and we should leave before your mother discovers my companion. If we return some night soon to the vale where you first saw us, will you meet us there again and talk further?"
"If my mother were to know of your companion, you would never find your way out of Arden, if she did not want you to. Which would be a shame. If you do get out, you should be careful in that place. It is not my mother's heart of power, but her eye has been there recently. And your kinsman's bloodflowers disturb her somewhat, Weyrsecond."
For a moment, Jovian's stare is silent, penetrating. "Yes," he says at last. "They are disturbing on the distaff side as well. But Arden has some power of her own yet, now that her Warden has returned from the ends of the earth. Neither side would profit from such power being tested. And it would grieve me to see you thrust into the middle of another war," he adds, a step closer, meeting Britomartis' eyes directly.
She smiles. "There is more to me than you may guess, Weyrsecond. I am a goddess, and a child of the Dragon. I could not be destroyed by anything that does not destroy Arcadia as well. The forest lives and breathes in its own rhythm. If war cannot be avoided, it will not be. But I would hear your plans and help with them, if I can."
"Then name a place, if not safe from your mother's eye then at least at tolerably lesser risk, and I will meet you there as soon as I'm able. With a plan, if the blood of Finndo's family is true." The gleam in Jovian's eye is warmly conspiratorial as he offers his hand.
She takes his hand in hers. "Do you know the falls where the river comes out above a southern coastal valley to the east? Come to the rocks there and I will meet with you again."
Jovian nods. "The people of that valley call them Jones Falls. Take care traveling there; the Warden's men have not taken Artemis' late actions calmly. I doubt you'd need fear them, but why raise alarms before we must?"
She holds his hand and looks into his eyes. "My instinct is to trust you, Weyrsecond. I am afraid that there are many forces arrayed against us who are indifferent to the advantages of peace over war. I shall do what I can to prevent knowledge of your goal from reaching their ears."
"Whatever we come up with, I expect Artemis will be wroth. But I believe her son's father will choose peace if the choice is given him. Be safe, Britomartis. I'll see you again soon," he promises, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
She squeezes his hand back and says "I shall be expecting you."
Jovian holds her gaze a moment, then turns to mount up. Rather than putting on his flight helmet, he places the rock with its three firelillies inside it and slings it by the chin-strap; this should do for holding it safely and keeping the flames from going anywhere painful. [IOW, no, he will not try carrying them intranasally.]
He looks back at the tree and his newfound Arcadian cousin, committing her and the place to memory, then composes in his mind the coordinates for Heather Vale as it stands now, pond and all. //Ready, Canareth? Let's get out of here before Auntie sniffs you.//
And he wills them between.
black, blacker, blackest
Jovian and Canareth are gliding above the trees that bound Heather Vale. If he looks closely below, he can see the cheery twinkle of firelillies.
Jovian's first order of business is to check the angle and fullness of the moon, looking for confirmation of his innate time-sense as to how long he's been gone.
She seems to have spanned a sixth of her nightly passage across the sky, which meshes well with the time Jovian thinks he's been gone.
Second order of business is to look again at the firelilly trail, to get a sense of what it does in the direction opposite from the one he just followed. He is not (yet) leaving the immediate environs to follow it, however.
Depending on Jovian's perspective on it, it either starts or peters out on the far side of the vale. There aren't any serious concentrations except along the path he followed.
At this point, a little more aware of the potential danger to his bondmate, Jovian elects not to touch down in the Vale. Instead he guides Canareth into a relaxing glide with the wind one point free, and composes the mental painting of Ossian's favorite approach to the city with its leaning red stone tower. When he is satisfied with it he gives it to the bronze, willing them there.
//I cannot see where you wish me to go.//
//What do you mean? It's the approach to Amber from the south, over the water. We flew it straight two nights ago. Do you know what the problem is?//
//Yes, I cannot see how to get to the place you wish me to go. It is not there.//
//How can it not be there? It was there two hours ago...never mind. We'll fly it straight.//
Jovian matches deed to word, guiding Canareth on the southeasterly course calculated to bring them to the sea as quickly as possible.
Riding up on the thermals and gaining altitude, Jovian notices the singluar lack of the coastal range holding Kolvir, and indeed the lack of the coast. The forest stretches as far as man or dragon can see, green and deep in all directions.
Oh, you think so, do you, bitch? the rider growls into the wind. He circles, a broad, slow circle riding an updraft, a couple of turns to compose his mind and immerse himself in the form and power of the Pattern, and decides that when he's facing east by southeast again there damn well will be a coastal range holding Kolvir, or somebody's going to answer for it.
Jovian imposes his will on the Universe and it resists, as if the change he is making to too much, too fast. As if he's pushing things. It reminds him, momentarily, of the flight on the far side of Ygg. Before he can adjust his shifting, it is as if a tension is released. He turns to the east and sees the Kolvir range.
The night sky is overcast, but it has the feeling of early evening. It may have rained here earlier today. The air has that heaviness to it.
//J'rim?// Canareth asks.
//Right here,// Jovian confirms. //Right place, but the time is wrong. What else do you notice?//
//Nothing. Everything in normal now.//
Jovian draws a deep breath, releases it slowly. //All right. What did you notice that was not normal before?//
//I am not sure. Someone, I thought. But I did not recognize her.//
//Human, dragon or other?//
//I do not know.//
Last modified: 7 January 2004
