Breakfast With The Knights: Mostly About Aisling

If anyone actually shows up [for the Knightly meeting], they'll find Brennan there munching on some portable type breakfast, drinking that road tar he calls coffee, and reading one of the broadsheets with (I'm sure) a raised eyebrow. Brennan hates mornings, actually, but there just aren't enough hours in the day.

Er, and if there's time in Brennan's action packed schedule, he'd at least check the infirmaries to see if anyone he knows, particularly Knights, was wounded.

Almost certainly won't have time to visit before them meeting, though.

Ohhhh, Faranth shat a brick and died of a square tailfork....

How stinkin' early is Brennan planning to rise the morning after all this excitement...? Jovian has a breakfast appointment at four bells of forenoon, but he might be able to pry his sorry butt out of bed earlier.

[Novak/Brennan]
Earlier than I would. I'm working on the assumption that no one wants to go through a horrid round of detailed character schedule comparisons, and left it approriately vague.

Aisling shows up. She's female, and completely human; her hair is ginger-colored, orange-y blond. She's wearing a Victorian-ish dress (lace overlaid on cotton) in a purple so dark as to be nearly black, with a silk scarf as heavy as smoke wrapped around her neck and trailing down her back to mask the gaps in the back where streamers could have gone.

Aisling doesn't look like she's just woken up.

She enters the Red Room and finds that she's hurried enough that she's actually early... She nods in greeting to Brennan, and looks around. Then she summons a servant and orders breakfast to be brought up.

Not inclined to talk, she spends the time before breakfast arrives writing a note to Benedict with the paper and ink in the Red Room, and she hands this to one of the servants who delivers breakfast to bring to his room:

From Aisling
To Benedict,
Greetings.
While leaving Chaos, I spoke with a onetime fellow of yours, from long ago in Amber. I would like to tell you more of this soon, in some quiet location.

[GMs]
[You will find after the meeting that the letter to Benedict has gone undelivered as he has left the castle.]

That done, she pours herself a cup of something hot and bitter, and then she turns to Brennan, after something of a pause, hands lightly encircling the cup. "What was that about dragging the middens for Cambina?"

Which is about where Jovian finds his way in, bleary-eyed but apparently shaven, dressed in his flying leathers. The keenly observant might note the juxtaposition of Calusan rank cords and the signet ring glinting in the slanting morning light as he reaches for a cup and a pitcher Aisling did not pour from. With an exertion of will and the Pattern flaring through his brittle nerves, he concludes with authority that there is one Carruth-be-damned pot of properly made klah in the One True City, and this is bloody well it.

[The smell of it, should Aisling happen to notice, is not the off-putting aroma of the drink the Calusans made in the field. It is richer and sweeter than that. Imagine Turkish cinnamon mocha.]

Having seen Cambina walk out of the ballroom under her own (and Brennan's) power the previous night, Jovian arches one eyebrow and twists the corner of his mouth wryly at Brennan. "I'm a real friend, man," he quips, "but only if the body's intact."

"Some of us are less particular," Marius notes, striding in with a brisk, "I'm a morning person, you can hate me," step. He's actually not a super morning person, but he's making a very good show of it. He's as carefully groomed as usual, but there's a fairly obvious "armed" status to him. He glances at Aisling for a moment, decides that is who she is, or at least to the extent that he has any ability to discern it, and drags up a chair.

[Oh, right; speaking of armed. Aisling's wearing a sword and dagger for the first time since the war.]

[Marius] slings it around and sits on it sideways, leaning his arm over the back. "Of course, it depends on who it is." He didn't hear that part of the conversation. His feral mood is on, and while he's smiling, it's less of a smile, and more towards grimace. He sniffs at the coffee and shakes his head, somewhere near amused.

"I think she was talking about Martin's accusation, last night," [Brennan] says drily, swallowing about half of his mug of coffee. He looks suspiciously at Jovian's cup, and asks, "Is that stuff caffeinated?"

"Oh hell yeah," the Calusan confirms. "There's even a little bit of a coffee taste to it, though it's mostly masked by cinnamon and something like chocolate." He gestures to the pot in invitation.

Brennan gives a facial shrug, quaffs the rest of his coffee, and pours some of the Calusan stuff into his mug, and takes a tentative sniff. After all, Jovian drinks paint thinner, too, so there's no telling what this stuff might be like.

Marius gives Brennan a moment to immolate or otherwise show signs of ill health. After a moment, realizing he's waiting for something dramatic, he'll relax and give it time to interact with Brennan's digestive system.

"I think I missed that part of the dustup last night," [Jovian] shrugs to Aisling, "but I get the idea. Nobody had their best diplomatic face on - or their coolest head." The tone is not without sympathy, though there is a faint note of gentle rebuke as well.

"I did not think it in anybody's best interests to let the accusation go unanswered that the king was a fool for choosing a liar and a traitor for a knight," Aisling says, looking at Jovian dispassionately.

"I'm not sure it served anyone's interests to call the Prince a lying fool in front of his father The King, and most of his assembled court, either," Brennan responds. "No, pardon me, a liar or a fool-- you gave him the choice, even though a Prince cannot be seen to be either. So let's file both of those under 'Ways not to conduct diplomacy in public,' for the time being.

"What was it, exactly, that set him off? Something about papers?"

"How did the gentleman Vere put it? Ah, yes. 'His Highness strongly implied that she was still working for Chaos, and was no doubt in league with Duchess Borel.'" [Marius] quotes it in the lazy fashion that suggests Vere isn't the only person who remembers things well. "At the time, I was hoping to get the King's attention to return Her Majesty, but I understand that there were all sorts of factions in various tension, and I don't think all of it was about traitorous behaviour, either."

"I asked him about the location of some letters I'd left," Aisling answers Brennan, following extreme distilling.

"What kind of papers?" Brennan asks. He's in patient but very persistent mode, right now.

Marius' curiosity keeps him quiet.

"As I said yestere'en, letters that could be used sorcerously, to communicate with my father, or to hurt him. It is my claim," Aisling says, her lip twisting, "that I presently have no way to get in touch with him."

Aisling has busied herself collecting breakfast from the various foodstuffs offered.

Lilly slips into the room. "Excuse my lateness. I was arranging for the Queen's guard." She says as she scans the room meeting the eyes of everyone present if only for a moment. Since her arrival in Amber she has taken to dressing the part of a Lady of the court. Evidently she has given up on that. Today she is in black pants, high black boots, and a red jacket trimmed in gold. The outfit has ben constructed to give her ease of movement while maintaining a distinguished, militaristic look. Her long black hair is pulled back into a low pony tail. As usual her sword hangs at her side.

"Please continue." Lilly adds as she moves towards the coffee. Normally she drank water or upon occasion juice in the mornings. Not today. Today coffee was most certainly called for. She pours a large mug full, leaving it black, before retreating to a nearby chair. Though she is active, there is no doubt she is paying attention.

Through much of this, Brennan had finished his tentative sniff of Jovian's klah drink, and moved on to tentative tastes of it. If Marius was still waiting for immolation or gastro-intestinal distress, he's disappointed. At best it gets a shrug and some more tastes.

He also greets Lilly as she comes in, and waits for her to realize that Brennan brews tar, not coffee.

"Not bitter enough," [Brennan] mutters to Jovian, before addressing Marius and Aisling.

This nets a shrug, a Julianic eyebrow, and a salute with the cup that Jovian then drains and refills.

From evidence, then, it's somewhat less likely to be what the dragons use to breathe fire. In that case, Marius will gesture towards it and give an asking glance towards Jovian. If he's given the go-ahead, he'll "try to find a clean cup" in this rapidly accumulating breakfast debris.

He makes a polite nod at Lilly that actually takes in that she's armed, and approves of it.

"There are plenty of interests [the confrontation between Martin and Aisling] served, unfortunately," [Marius] drawls, "most or all hostile," he notes, watching Aisling like a cat watches a flying insect. "Still, there are ways to look at this from a positive viewpoint." He leans forward a bit, moving his arm from the chair to the table. "For example, it has now been made painfully obvious," he gives an apologetic smile to Aisling, "that however it was rudely handled during the incident," (he seems to mean Martin) "the Prince suspects our fellow, so those hoping to use Aisling," another smile, "can be quite certain that one under suspicion is not the best tool. This may just save Aisling's life." He leans back, and holds his arm around the chair back, instead of resting it on top.

If there was someone viewing Aisling symbolically at the moment, she would look like a barrow. She regards all the words and elects to make no reply.

"I was being polite," Brennan drawls, "As an example of that whole 'diplomacy' concept."

Marius' smile is of that variety that suggests he'd be rolling his eyes at this almost funny idea, if he were the sort. Instead, he smiles.

"But of course, you're right. One question becomes, can we find a way to make this incident serve an actual purpose, now that it's happened?" The inflection makes it obvious that Brennan is not speaking about a purpose for the Knights, but a purpose for the larger Family and Amber.

Marius' smile turns into that, "Happy others see things as I do," smile.

"By the same token that Aisling is now publicly under suspicion, she may find herself to be a lightning rod if there are any factions that seek to exploit a rift in the Family. Especially a rift involving the Heir Presumptive. That's a lonely road to go down, though," Brennan says, looking at Aisling, "And not one to be travelled without someone of impeccable credentials in the loop. Ideally, a King or a Prince."

To be clear, Brennan is spitballing, right now, not proposing. Better suggestions are welcome.

"Are you suggesting casting Aisling publicly in outer darkness, as a tethered goat to draw out potential conspirators against the crown?" There is in the dragonman's voice an undertone that suggests he would welcome a slightly less outrageous idea.

"Those would not be the conspirators that worry me," Marius says low, almost under his breath.

"We are too fractured to be whole," Marius says in an introspective tone. His eyes wander towards the Castle, and maybe even towards the Pattern. "But time and circumstance have that affect on many a relationship," his humour returns. "Our blood both credits and discredits us all."

He shrugs. "What I do not know is who stands to benefit. We've been...ah... domesticated to distrust. More of it is just butter on our bread, which we break with each other nonetheless, if you can forgive my mixing of metaphors. So unless Aisling knows something specific, something that can cause more trouble than we have already experienced, what good is another family member kept at knife's distance?"

Aisling looks at Marius for a moment or so, impassive. "I do not grasp your meaning, Sir Marius. If you, however, speak of the preferability of amity, I suggest that even if Martin and I are seen to laugh and drink together on several occasions, even so for the next century I suspect I will be sought out by traitors and the aggrieved.

"Does this surprise you?" Marius asks. "You expected this from the beginning. One could welcome you with open arms and you would be bracing for the impact." There's a bit of a sour tone in his voice, but he's still smiling. It's not a pleasant smile.

Aisling shrugs. "The thing about being eternal is that sooner or later, everyone you know will hurt you." She's still impassive, but perhaps not unamused behind that.

The part of Jovian that can be happy about any part of this conversation is reserving itself for the fact that Aisling is looking away from him right at this moment. Brennan might catch the flicker of reaction underlying that thought because he might be looking for it. It's vanishingly unlikely anyone else will.

He is. His eyes narrow, too, but he lets Marius handle the riposte-- he'll do it better, anyway.

Marius nods sharply. "It is a lonely life spent in preparation for the pain." He takes a deep breath. "Once you realize pain is life, and akin to breathing, it is easier to love and be loved. The knife in one's gut is just the symptom of the fall." He chuckles, leaning his head back and blinking.

Aisling politely inclines her head to him to signify reception of his comment.

"I am unlikely to please Random if I am ever bringing him bad news of plots against his son. However, like yourself," [Aisling] nods to Brennan, "the increased chance of gaining such intelligence is the only benefit I see.

"The question is how the Order will be seen to relate to me. If I am seen to have some support and power, I will be more likely to attact meaningful plots. If I am to be seen as the sinister one in the dark corner, you will all have an easier time of it."

"And which are you?" Marius asks. "I saw you at the center of a whirlwind. I know you fought for us. I cannot _understand_ what risks you took. But you _are_ a betrayer, either to us...or," he waves a casual hand away from Amber, "or them, whoever they are. They say one who is a traitor once, can be trusted to do it again."

She shrugs again, acknowledging this. Again, somewhat pleased that Marius gets it.

Jovian's eyes narrow over the rim of his cup, and the leather of his jacket crinkles audibly at the hunching of his shoulders. He is, perhaps, glad to have Aisling's response as an opportunity to tease out Marius' ruminations before replying.

"An air of mistrust among us in public might be effective if we were a well-established order whose position was better known. But mistrust is exactly what we must not have - privately - for what Brennan seems to be proposing. If this tethered goat idea, or stalking horse," he amends with a nod and appreciative smile toward his battle-scarred sister Knight, "were to go forward, it would necessarily be an expression of absolute confidence in you, Aisling. But I do not like the personal risk at which it would place you. Particularly at the hands of our uncles, who could not all be in on the plan for obvious reasons."

"My attracting of plots is not a plan, it is a fact, Sir Jovian. The only question is how much I choose to exploit this circumstance," Aisling states, something about her distant.

"Then you have been approached?" Marius smiles.

"All things with time," Aisling uses two extra words to say 'not yet'.

"It was the notion of overt action to make you a still more popular objective for intrigue that troubled me, madame," the Calusan responds, in low, careful tones. "By, for instance, a very public failure to support you, while privately you'd be our bird on a wire. The risks of that mislike me."

"I also have doubts it would work; Aisling was publically knighted, and our dear prince's display of outrage was not public enough for that," Marius notes, wryly, leaning forward again. "What I would suggest is that Aisling teach us of our enemy. I know not enough to ask the right questions, although I have a few beginning notes." He tilts his head. "For example, will they contact you," he addresses this to Aisling, "or one of your subordinates, first?"

Brennan does not object. "There are problems enough with it that would need to be thought through and settled before it became workable," he says. "But the situation-- political exploiters-- is real. Best at least be aware of it, and move on."

With that, Brennan is content to let the matter pass.

Aisling's brows draw together into a somewhat threatening look (not directed at Deirdre's son) at Marius's last sentence, but her face is one more impassive by the time Brennan is done talking, and she explains easily, "While I may be mistaken, Sir Marius, it seems to me that you are under the impression that I know of others Martin has wronged, or specific groups that are out to cleave him from parts of the family and realm. This is not the case. For the years I was in Amber, he was merely a bastard prince of Rebma.

"If I were to hypothesize on the sorts of dissidents I might attract, though, I would suggest that at the moment I will only get those hopeless, wronged, and seeking vengeance. If I am seen to have support and thus power, I may attract those who have plans, whose self-image is other than 'traditional', for I fear that the stink of Martin's accusations will keep self-respecting conservatives away from me. I am concerned that those with plans to fracture this government will desire to see me, and anyone seen to support me, even more estranged from Martin and his supporters before enlisting our aid... You know, of course, that it is quite easy to convince someone of something they already suspect. I am ripe for a frame." Aisling shrugs.

"You are mistaken, indeed, Sir Aisling," Marius says. "I have no lost love for the new Prince, or his father, for while I will support my King, I have, perhaps, issues for how he has left his Kingdom."

Anyone actually bothering to note Brennan's expression will see that he has the same reservations about Random's (and for that matter, Martin's, if it's known by now) absence.

He doesn't say anything about it, though.

It is precisely the same way with Aisling. Issues, not talking.

[Marius]
"Those are not the enemies I speak of. I speak of those who threatened us, whose appearance led to the confrontation of which I saw only the fringe. I speak of your words, when you say such things as `we' and `ours' and do not mean this, your...sudden family."

"Ah," Aisling says, pleased to have grasped his meaning.

"Aisling," Canareth's rider interjects, and that it costs him dearly is clear in voice and gaze. "I have seen first-hand what you risked for us, and you have my confidence. It is as surely our duty, though, to protect the crown as it is to protect each other. For the sake of both - protecting the realm and protecting you," and at this there is perhaps an extra strain upon him, an extra weight to his words, "I think we need to know more about the connection between Madoc and Borel. And what each might know about us."

Marius listens to this very intently. It might seem to anyone looking at that that Marius respects Jovian...maybe more than Brennan.

"Then perhaps you should ask Merlin," Aisling hisses like acid hitting something soft, and then snaps closed again, somewhat perturbed to have cracked so, though I don't think any of you are likely to pick up on that. Her virulence does not seem to be directed at Jovian, though, or even necessarily at Merlin.

"My father -- Benedict's grandson," she emphasizes, looking at Lilly, before returning to distant closure, "made his life out on the farthest edge of the universe. It was my feeling that his family had used him poorly. Duke Borel made only one state visit, that I remember. It was my feeling that my father could use bits of the information I sent him to fend his family off, or to be better able to evade their attempts to embroil him in their schemes." And then she stops talking. She picks up her plate of breakfast, and her glass with her two fingers, and heads over to sit; near Lilly, far from Marius (though not directly across from him).

"Then it is a rescue mission," Marius says, suddenly. "We have kin in the darkest regions in danger."

Aisling glances at Marius over a forkful of eggs, then drops her gaze again.

A faint look of amusement crosses Lilly's face. "Point noted Sir Marius. I believe we all realize that lineage can be meaningless. Brennan, you surely would not wished to be judged on your's correct? So there fore we can not in good mind judge Aisling on hers." Lilly turns slightly to look at Aisling before continuing. "By your own words you are loyal to your father. Your father is a member of the courts of Chaos. I realize it is not that simple but many will view it as such. I feel we need to further understand your father in order to best aid you in the coming weeks and months. If there is anything else you are willing to share, I am willing to listen."

Through all this, Brennan is watching not just Aisling, but the interaction of the group, under the pretenses of deciding whether he likes klah, or not. By the time Lilly brings his name up, he's reaching for the coffee pot again.

The only real reaction out of Brennan is when Jovian presses the question about Borel and Madoc. That gets a small shake of the head from Brennan, but it's a sad shake. Brennan knows what must have cost.

When Lilly brings his name back into it, Brennan responds to her, then to Jovian, then finally to Lilly. As for Lilly, Brennan is going to assume unless further corrected that he's just a talking point, here, not that he's being accused of judging Aisling solely on lineage. "I'd rather people come right out and tell me they don't trust me becuase I'm Brand's son than to nurture it in darkness for a few years. I don't think anyone in this room holds Aisling's loyalty in doubt. We know what she did, and, dimly, what the risks were. Other-- Martin, Jerod, and others-- do not. But beyond simply being of Chaosi decent," here Brennan's lips quirk, "Marius is right. A certain amount of realism is called for, if in nothing else than predicting the reactions around us. Aisling has been a spy. Even the professionals often have a hard time keeping objective about that reality of war. Aisling has turned coat."

Brennan also answers Jovian's question, but more briefly: "Of course not. Not without Aisling's full consent, and a better plan than the wing and a prayer I described. I'm fishing for better ideas, and that was the best bait I had. If I had a better plan, I'd put it on the table now."

But when Aisling sits down again,

(she never sat down before. She's been standing the whole time up to now. :) )

Brennan is still calm-- he didn't even blink when Aisling gave her outburst-- and as stubborn as the sea. "All of the details you can muster about that half of Benedict's family are important, so that we know what we're dealing with." He frowns, "Not to mention anything about Dara's two little helpers. We need to know everything we possibly can," and for the moment, he's shifted back to the Amberite 'we' instead of just the Knightly 'we.' "Do you think your father might become an ally?

"But don't let that distract from those papers that set Martin into a frenzy. What was in them?"

Aisling sighs. "Honestly? I doubt the anger had anything to do with the letters, per se. They were interesting from an intelligence perspective, as they contained bits of such info as he gave me, or talk of the doings of Madoc; and they offered insight into him for sending and me for saving them." She shrugs.

She pokes a stewed tomato with her fork, and takes a drink of coffee. Mainly looking at Brennan, she starts her story in the middle, a bit abruptly, "My father was a guest at Oberon's wedding to Clarissa, did you know? There was a time when our peoples were not so... antagonistic," she says with a bit of a smile, slightly feral.

There's a pause, and then slowly and reluctantly, "He was probably a guest because Clarissa is his sister." And she suspends the story again, to see how Brennan (and the others) react.

Brennan very obviously put his armor on this morning, so it's very difficult to tell if this surprises him or not. His reaction is to turn to Lilly and raise his coffee cup in salute before taking another sip: Hi, Auntie Lilly.

Lilly has a look of slight disbelief. Could this family possibly be any more complicated?

Brennan's obviously waiting for [Aisling] to get back to the story she's telling.

Jovian's brow arches, though not in an optimally Julianic fashion; any other reaction is hidden behind his third cup of klah. But for a moment afterward, he seems to be studying diagrams in the air, low and two points to the left. The highly observant might even catch his index finger moving as if he's tracing tangled lines. Only for a moment though, after which he gives his head a quick clearing shake and resumes following the conversation.

Marius' expression turns sad when she says, "our peoples," but only momentarily. The thought grows more engimatic, and Marius shrugs. "We are an incestuous pit of vipers," he says. "But I imagine the genealogical data is even more complicated on the other side."

Lilly, who had been working through the Amber family tree in her mind, nods in agreement with Marius. Her only comment, for the moment though, is a simple, "Indeed".

Aisling shrugs, as if to indicate, I wouldn't know.

Somewhere in there, Brennan developed a little crease between his eyebrows. Other than saluting Lilly, he hasn't moved much, and even the salute had his head tilt a bit in her direction without really changing the direction of his gaze.

After hearing the others react, Brennan continues, "Okay, now that we're not judging me by my lineage either, I think we were talking about those papers. Letters, I think. And I'm sure they were very interesting from an intelligence perspective. That would certainly explain Martin's reaction. How interesting would they have been, exactly?"

Doesn't sound like Brennan is going to let this one go.

Lilly gives him an approving look. She was beginning to get the feeling that Aisling was dancing around this subject. It was nice to know she was not the only interested in the content of those letters.

Aisling looks at him completely funny. She lays her hands down lightly on the side, visibly shifting away from the story to patiently address this. "In the past few days I have encountered several occasions where the people I was talking to did not find themselves in the same area at all as the meaning I thought I was conveying; and it is my uneasy suspicion that this is another instance of that strange occurrence. These "papers" which I, and everyone but you, have never called anything but "letters", were bits from my father, in reply to letters of mine, which he, being a sensible and--" she cuts out a word, "being, most likely destroyed. They contained gossip about beings no one here knows, news about beings some here know of (like Lintra), small personal things.

"What is it that you suspect, that you search for a explanation for Martin's rage other than the perfectly reasonable one offered last night?"

"Perhaps the simple question of, 'What brought it to his mind,' at that moment?" Marius asks.

"Ah," Aisling says, then looking at him sidelong with a hint of ironically amused self-censure, "I asked.

"He was damaged, worried, angry; he was approached by a creature he disliked who attempted to distract him with inanities; he did not bother to think twice." Aisling looks honestly bemused.

"Did you?" Lilly asks in a completely neutral tone. She was genuinely interested in knowing if Aisling felt as if she may have overreacted or in any other way failed to think twice herself.

Aisling considers. "...At the time, I assumed he was using me to vent on, and I did not more closely examine his motives. Now that I have, though, I do not see that I was wrong."

Marius sighs and rolls his eyes. "I do not see that I was wrong," doesn't pass in repetition from his lips, but he certainly repeats it to himself. He leans over his cup, wrapping his arms around it, resting his chin near his wrist.

"About his motivation," Aisling continues on clarifying, her tone suggesting that any contradictory info on Martin's motives should be shared, but other than that impassive.

Lilly gathers her silence about her once more. She was not there, she did not truly know what had passed. For the moment she would withhold further judgement and simply go back to listening.

"But possibly ill-timed or ill-phrased," Jovian observes drily. "Under heavy stress, a customarily cautious approach might be too roundabout for his liking." He makes eye contact with Brennan at this, recalling how he and the heir struck sparks before Dara's appearance. "Perhaps issues of medium and timing are less vital to having one's message received in other social circles, but it's a tightrope walk with this family."

In the interests of allowing Brennan a chance to reply to her question, Aisling once again keeps her mouth shut.

Brennan will get to his answer under his own steam, never fear.

[Brennan]
"Well, youre right, Aisling. I don't think we're in the same conversation. I'm not talking about the papers Martin already has. If I wanted to know their contents, I could probably ask him with less trouble.

"I'm talking about the letters Martin doesn't have, that you burned. And the ones you didn't."

"The odds are," Aisling states neutrally, "that Martin does not have any letters; that they were captured by Dara.

"I am quite willing to give you any information you so desire, for I am much impressed with your indicated interest in aiding the situation. What you wish to know, then, is what information I sent back to Chaos?"

The exhalation and slight drop in the dragonman's shoulders as much as say Thank you for coming round to the point.

Her eyes narrow and she loosely leans on her arm propped on the arm of the chair, her hand curled before her lips. _If you didn't want to know about Chaos, you shouldn't have asked. You ask me a handful of questions and then assume I'm prevaricating because I start my answering with the ones that were clear... Bastards!_

Marius watches the assorted body language as if he were fairly fluent. In fact, his position pretty much says, "I'm listening, but I'm not really involved."

Brennan takes a breath and exhales it slowly, while Aisling and Marius are doing the Body Language Dance.

"Well, yeah," he says slowly and calmly.

"Let me preface this with something Aisling-- remember, through all this, that I'm on your side. I like you," he emphasizes with a toothy grin that is, for the moment, more than a little forced, "And I was there when you risked your ass with Merlin to get us home. But not everyone is, starting with the very obvious Prince Martin."

He continues in the same low, even tone, "It would have been nice-- so very very nice-- if the Courts had gone back to being out of sight and out of mind for another few centuries. But they didn't. Even the professional paranoids in the City," he raises his had as a new member of that august group, "are surprised they managed the return so quickly. Be that as it may, they are back.

"So let me paint a picture in the tinctures of some very relevant facts, my friend: One-- you're a spy, by your own admission. Two-- whatever information you were passing back to Madoc and the Courts is something you burned. Three-- this time, the Chaosi forces have at least one member who can get them here and back again. Four-- we just suffered a major attack, which required significant intelligence on their part."

Aisling looks like she's going to voice some objection, here, which look might help inspire:

"Not enough? Let me shade it through Martin's eyes, and the eyes of anyone he's close to: One-- you're a spy, caught in the act. Two-- whatever you burned, you burned to keep us from knowing. Three-- it was your cousin in Amber parlance, who mounted the assault. Four, Five, Six-- it was your father to whom you were sending information; it's old Borel's death that precipitated this mess, and old Borel is your father's brother; it's your father who Martin claims is in deep enough with Dara to have been Merlin's tutor."

Brennan hasn't raised his voice, but hopefully he doesn't have to. The clipped precise tones should be enough.

Aisling settles back with her arms folded.

"If Martin is substantially right on some of those things, Aisling, then one of the most charitable interpretations is that you've been played for a fool. Martin's not superhuman. He could be wrong. But the man's not an idiot. And he, too, says less than he knows.

"We'll be lucky, my friend, if Martin and his friends for some reason don't push this. We'll be lucky, my friend, if everyone else present thinks Martin was just as tragically out of line as you were. We'll be lucky if it just blows over, but I wouldn't count on it, because, Seven-- right about now there's a crisis of confidence running through every intelligence network and ring of informers in the City. Each and every damn one of them missed this, and whether or not any of them will admit it, they're each and every one of them going to be scrambling to find out what else they missed and trying to prove that it will never, ever happen again. You should know what an embarassed intelligence network is like, Aisling-- it's toxic, and rabid.

"Put yourself in their position, Aisling, and ask yourself-- who do you think they'll be trying to bring down, now?

"It's vital to Amber, yes, to have detailed-- and I mean detailed!-- knowledge of what you passed back to your father, and what you did while you were here under false pretenses. We have to assume that everything you sent back, for one reason or another, is in Dara's hands..."

This hits her like he'd picked up a crossbow and fired a bolt into her heart. Her eyes slowly get a bit shinier. This is the part that really shakes her off her base.

"...whether you meant it to get there or not. Grave damage may have been done, but not knowing the details is going to be like fighting blindfolded.

"And it's particularly vital to you, Aisling, because it's about the only chance you have of pulling Martin's teeth out of your cheeks. If you want some advice on this-- and even if you don't-- then don't play games with this. Don't even be seen to be playing games with this. Don't let any sane person in the Family think that you might be playing games with this, or evading the question. Pre-empt the whole damn thing. Get Gerard, get Caine, get them in the room together. Get me, if I'm still here, and everyone you can find for moral support. Do everything you possibly can to make it right, because no matter how much it's gonna suck in the short term, it's the only way to make it better in the long term.

"Make everyone believe, Aisling."

"I'm telling you these very unplesant things, Aisling, because I'm on your side. I like you," and this time he doesn't have to emphasize it with a toothy grin, "or I wouldn't bother with this. I'd just let Martin and Jerod have at you with no warning and no preparation. And for your sake, I can almost hope you did send back at least one middling relevant piece of information, because if you tell them, 'Well, nothing really important... I think...' they're going to over you like a pack of starving weasels.

"Bank on it. Now help yourself, and let the rest of us help you, too."

He takes a breath and lets it out with an explosive sigh, and leans back in the chair. That sucked part of the energy right out of him, even though he never raised his voice from that sharp, intense tone.

Anyone observant will see that he's back into his normal body language instead of the more tightly constrained posture he'd kept while he was poking and digging at her.

After a minute, he realizes just how long he's gone on, and waits for reactions.

Aisling's jaw is clasped shut, because otherwise her teeth would be chattering. Her folded arms are now more along the lines of wrapped-around-herself. Only her eyes are bright as she stares in Brennan's direction but past him; the rest of her might be a tromp l'oeil painted on the chair, that had been left for a decade where the noonday sun could fade it.

Throughout the analysis Jovian's attention is unswerving. He never once looks at Aisling. He is probably looking at Brennan, but in truth at moments it's hard to be sure. His jaw muscles work a bit here and there, but he does not move to interrupt.

When Brennan is done, [Jovian] turns to make eye contact with Aisling, leaning just slightly in her direction. Deep, profound worry shows at the corners of his eyes, and something less definable as well. He says just a single word, and at that he doesn't even voice it, but still he gives all he has through it.

Please.

Irritated anger rears up in her, with no base from which to conceal it, Dammit, can't you believe that I could answer Brennan's appeal on my own? but even as the thought peaks reason has already flattened the anger, No, anger's of no use to me now, Brennan's right enough...

She closes her eyes and two tears drop from them, and then it's too late; with anger and reason otherwise occupied, there's nothing to stop her from crying. She draws her handkerchief out of her sleeve and cries into it, without a sound.

"That's very believable," Marius notes, with probably the coldest voice anyone's heard from him yet. "Think it would work on the Prince?"

(However, those sensitive to that sort of thing will note that he's quite carefully gone mute on the body-language front, and is holding his own emotions and psyche carefully in check.)

"Bastard!" Aisling spits out in a heartfelt cry.

There is only a hint of Marius' smile, but he does not deny the accusation in any of the ways it's meant.

For those paying attention to him, it is as if a spell is broken over Jovian. When he turns toward Marius it is like a weight has been lifted, his eyes clear again, and there is (for waters slightly higher than any known to be in this room) almost a tinge of relief in the low, even, precise tones in which the dragonman speaks.

"Sir Marius. You were not conscious to see her offer her life to return us safely. You were not there when she was a whisper away from dying in my arms. Therefore I will forgive your tone once.

"I was there. Therefore I will not forgive it twice."

Marius looks completely nonplussed. His hand has not strayed to his sword, nor has he tensed at all. "You are correct," he says, looking back at the dragonrider. "I was not there, in mind or spirit, and for my body, I have thanked Aisling as best I can. But I will not beg your pardon." He looks at Aisling. "You continue to see this creature as human. Take your own words as an example, my dear Sir, could any _human_ have done what was necessary?" The words may be addressed to Jovian, but Marius looks directly at Aisling as he says them. Strangely enough, the words are not cold, nor do they seem as cold as the first sentence, but they are not entirely friendly, either.

"Enough," Brennan growls, "Horns pointed outward, right?"

Then, addressing Marius, "And the answer to your first question, at least, is no, I don't think it would work on the Prince." He enunciates carefully: "He's from Rebma." Then turning to Aisling, "So in the spirit of not even being seen to play games with the subject matter, I suggest you get all of that out of your system."

If it's not clear from that, Brennan's not really impressed, either.

"It was not the point but the tone I objected to, sir," and here Jovian could mean Brennan, Marius or both. "Remorse, though I believe it genuine, will help far less than full disclosure. Before I let the matter pass though, sir," and this time it is clear he means Marius, "I must and will say simply that I have known many creatures in my life far less human than Aisling, who never walked on more than two legs." The tone is polite but firm, and clearly means that to be the end of that.

It is at this point that the sound of footsteps can be heard entering the room, for one or two a familiar enough pattern. For some, it might herald a golden opportunity to re-settle, re-group, to let tensions fade and emotions to cool.

Or, it could be seen along the lines of "first it rains, then it pours".

Aisling tucks the handkerchief under her skirt as Jerod enters, at the same time shifting slightly so that when he's making the long walk across the room to the part that contains the circle of chairs, she's already in a position that says nothing except "tired and aggravated". Leaning on her arm propped on the arm of the chair, hand resting on the bridge of her nose so her fingers obscure the slitted eyes she might have just been massaging.

In either event Jerod now enters the room, taking note of the meeting of the Knights and thinking for a moment that a drawn sword might be more in order, though not himself. He smiles a little at the thought.

He remains however only for a moment, tossing a light metal ball in an easy underhand throw to Brennan. "Later." he says, before he departs from the room.

The metal ball is a sculpted metal affair, very thin and hinged on one side with a clasp to keep it sealed. Inside is a note.

We are indeed busy. Meet me in the courtyard after your discussion is concluded. I have a short time before my audience with the Queen.

Jerod.

When Jerod enters, Brennan looks up with eyes narrowed just a bit in suspicion. But he snatches the ball out of the air and thumbs the catch, and reads the message.

"Agreed."

Once Jerod's footsteps have retreated, Brennan mutters, "Note to Icicle: New locks, new keys," and directs all his attention back on the meeting.

Marius is casually looking "away." Not, "the other way," but just so as the interruption is given its defusing moment.

Somehow, through all of this, Lilly managed to maintain her silence. She had been content to listen, to absorb. Brennan had made many strong points and his assessment seemed well thought out. The question of Aisling's humanity however had seemed a tad far reaching. Again they were back to defining a person by their lineage. Lilly was more then a bit tired of that. And she also needed to agree that there should be no crying in warfare. It simply seemed wrong to her.

[Lilly]
"In some ways, Aisling, remorse could indeed imply guilt. I concur with Brennan. You need to get all of the anger, and frustration from your system before dealing with anyone outside of this room."

This engenders a bitter, bitter smirk from Aisling.

Lilly did not believe her to be guilty of anything other then bad judgement at the moment and her tone conveyed as much. "If we need to move from this subject for the moment to give you time to gather yourself and your thoughts, we can do that. I do however believe that any long delays may prove detrimental."

"The time for that has passed," Aisling says, a quiet hiss in her voice like static.

"My comrades are correct. I am not human; nor does it do me any good to have emotions." She lets that hang for a beat or so, arranging the order of her speech.

Marius closes his eyes and shakes his head.

In that hanging moment, Jovian rather resembles a guy standing on a station platform in the rain with a comical look on his face, because his insides have been kicked out. One could, just possibly, posit that he is not proud of his family.

[Aisling]
"It was my duty and the source of my honor, and please rest assured that I use that term solely in the past tense, to report to my father on the doings of Amber. I did this with the understanding I have mentioned previously, that we were tangentially at war with the Amberites. My only orders were, "Watch the royals, learn about them, report who is in or out of the city, find their children, do not trust agents of other houses." Desirous of not being recalled to Madoc, I also proffered my view of the weak points of Amber, and the happenings of the war. I sent back detailed letters, diagrams, and sketches; perhaps on average of two a week for nearly six years. Thus, Madoc had more information on you than I could possibly cover in even a day.

"So I will start with the damage I did not do. I did not, for example, send anything back for use in sorcery. I did not exploit any of the weak areas I pointed out. I did not kill anyone important... To be specific, for those of you who have not been filled in on recent Amber history, late in the first year of my stay, Corwin and Bleys brought armies against Eric's regency, and Corwin was captured. Gerard and Julian convinced Eric not to kill Corwin; instead he was blinded and thrown into a tiny cell in the dungeons of Amber, where he stayed for nearly four years. I believe the term is, 'shooting fish in a barrel.' " Aisling shrugs. "Nor were any of your competent non-royals in danger from me.

"There were a few bits of information I kept back as aces in the hole; chief among these was Solange, who Gerard concealed so well that I could be assured no other Chaosite spy could belie me.

"Aside from that, I was fully as much of a disaster for Amber as any might fear. The known family members hanging about Amber nearly the whole time were Eric, Jerod, Cambina, Julian, Caine, Gerard, Random, and Florimel; and these I tracked and watched; and sent back full reports on. Descriptions; what they liked, what expressions they used, what gestures; their usual schedules, what I felt could buy them; sample conversations they had with friends and with servants; what they seemed to feel about each other. And more.

"Some of the family were around for far less time, or in more constrained situations; Deirdre, Brand. Corwin. Llewella, Benedict, and Bleys, and then those I suspected of being family but who were not acknowledged, such as yourself," she indicates Marius with her head, "and Paige. For this group, I of course sent back anything that seemed relevant; you and Paige earned my attention later on, and as the war was warmer then, I somewhat slighted you.

"For the family in general, I was always interested in gossip, and stories people told of their interactions with their royalty. Those important to, or influential on family members got the same treatment as the royalty.

"And, as I say, I watched the battles, and I noted weaknesses which generally seem to have come to light in the Sundering. I went on field trips to Rebma and Tir, and reported back. I sent back maps of large chunks of the castle and city; drawings of the innards of locks; diagrams of ships; explanations of how items are warehoused and taxed; anatomical studies... And more."

Somewhere through that, Brennan begins to get a headache. It starts at the bridge of his nose, and by the time she is finished speaking, extends back behind his ears on both sides.

As Aisling begins her recitation of the damage done, [Jovian] is able to summon the reserve that is his Julianic birthright behind a neutral mask...but as it goes on, and on, and Faranth's last clutch, on, a pained weariness settles over his face and shoulders.

"In my free time, I did nice things," Aisling says, with the first bit of expression in a long time, that being sardonic.

Marius stretches out, turning to use the back of his seat as something more than an arm rest. He looks depressingly satiated, but he has no words for anyone.

Aisling takes in his look and does not, in fact, visibly shudder.

"Well, then," [Brennan] says softly, "What do you think Martin meant when he talked about dredging the middens for Cambina's body?"

The inflection on that is ambiguous enough, by far, for it to be a rhetorical question.

Aisling takes it as such.

[Brennan]
"Wait. How many other houses sent spies? How many did Madoc send?"

"You seem to be a man of the world, Brennan. If you were going to start giving one of your spies information, would you start with that?" Aisling asks, still with a sardonic tinge.

Then, fully aware that answering a question with a question is not in fact answering a question, "I looked with great paranoia, but didn't find any others. But then, it's nigh-impossible to root out a careful spy," Aisling shrugs.

"It does seem to me a non-trivial thing to keep in touch with someone over the distance from Amber to Chaos. So I would think that the odds are Madoc had only me. But as for all the other courts, why, I have no idea," and her grin is quite feral. "As I told you last night, I heard mention once of a spy of Borel's."

"I do not believe we had a chance to speak last evening, Aisling. Perhaps you could relate that story to me?" Lilly asks with genuine curiosity.

Marius shakes his head. "Games within games, and wheels within wheels. I could trace a path of possibilities so that Dame Lilly here turns out to be the culprit behind everything, as fragile as the web of supposition is," he says, finally. "I do not know if we face mass conspiracy or the actions of a suspicious few following similar methods, if it is unknown how parallel their premise." He shrugs. "I, however, refuse a life of looking beneath each stone for spies. My paranoia is in better health than that." His smile is automatic.

"This is information that benefits the King, and those others who make decisions for the defense of the realm" he says, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

Brennan nods agreement.

"Are these details known outside this room?" [Marius] leaves unspoken, "And would they convince the Prince even if they were?" Instead, he waits for an answer, while his mind crunches possibilities.

"Perhaps there is some benefit, Aisling," Jovian cuts in with even, neutral tones before another round of nasty sniping can begin, "in creating a full dossier of what we know Dara knows, and what her suspected resources are. The process of organizing it all may help to ensure no details are missed." And let the Prince digest it in written form and calm down before facing you again, he doesn't add.

Aisling subducts a twitch at Jovian's mention of Dara's knowledge, instead merely turning her attention to refolding her handkerchief, face still blank. "It has not been my experience that written records are beneficial," she reminds him coolly.

Here, and through the next paragraph, Brennan favors Aisling with an aggressively neutral stare.

[Aisling]
"It seems to me more beneficial to pass information along in person, or at a one-person remove. At the moment, the only persons I know to have certain knowledge on the matter of the information I shared with Chaos are yourselves; however, I imagine your aunts and uncles have formed their own opinions of my competence, and thus most likely have somewhat accurate ideas of what I saw."

[Lilly]
"I will admit to not be a fan of writing things that should remain state secrets. I am also not a fan of even a one person remove. Truth is far too open to interpretation."

Marius begins grinning at this thought of Lilly's, but perhaps he's thinking of something else entirely.

"What you tell me, or better, what you believe you tell me may not be the same thing I hear or believe I hear. I think we have seen enough of that this morning. Still, if need be, I will speak with Prince Martin when he returns if we feel that must be done. I am also willing to act as an intermediary for you Aisling, should you feel you need such a thing." Lilly says civilly.

"He has gone?" Aisling asks, faintly surprised.

Marius scowls and sighs.

"As for the tale," Aisling says to Lilly, "it is quite short and to the point. The Count indicated that he would turn me to learning about the Amberites. 'Why?' I asked him. 'Because Borel's spy is not yet ready,' he replied."

Brennan arches an eyebrow.

"How did you come to be burning papers in Martin's presence, anyway?"

Lilly places the information about Borel's spy in it's proper place in her mind and then turn her full attention to the answer to Brennan's question.

Aisling again looks faintly surprised. She hadn't thought on what the others must know of her first meeting with Martin. She thinks for a moment, and then starts the story with, "One of several places I lived in Amber was a tiny nook up in the eaves of the castle. The day Oberon returned, I was there, considering a draft of this news. I tossed the draft onto the fire, and then from the corner Dara stepped out through a curtain of invisibilty, leaving someone else behind it, who a bit later revealed himself to be Martin.

"I suspect it takes impressive sorcery to have an invisibility curtain in Amber; and more than that, I suspect the two also drifted in sorcerously, for as I said, this was a small room, and while lighting the fire I would have certainly noticed people. Or perhaps the curtain also muted sounds and enclosed scents, so they could climb in just shortly before coming forward." Aisling shrugs.

Marius listens to the retelling with a sad smile on his face. "And thus, we are all unmasked. Aye, but the strands are so tangled, I can only account for my own actions." He laughs, but it is not a friendly laugh. "I am satisfied with Aisling's answers. I do not know what conclusions I can draw from them at this point, but perhaps we should let it be."

"I seem to recall some mention of help," Aisling says dryly. "It has been suggested that I speak to those specific Amberites I affected, and other interested parties besides. Were there other helpful suggestions that I was perhaps too distracted to register?"

"Dara is a shapeshifter who can become invisible?" Brennan asks, with a low, contained, but rising sense of horror. "That's profoundly bad. What else can she do? Other than bad card tricks?"

Jovian does not look particularly happy or well at this prospect, but holds his peace.

"Either Dara can swing magical invisibility in Amber, or Martin can, or some third unknown they were working with can, or Oberon provided it to them," Aisling patiently says again what she said before, to her mind. "Dara is, clearly, a sorcerer, and she probably used that last night to create a finer representation of Cambina. It may be that she has no knowledge but what she gained in the short time she must have lurked here before last night," Aisling shrugs with her mouth slightly twisted.

Brennan adds, "My biggest suggestion, as I said before, is to be proactive. Not just in going to the specific Amberites you affected, but going to someone who can help assess the damage. I mentioned Gerard and Caine before, and they weren't random choices. Brand described Caine, once, as the brain of the court-- excluding himself, of course-- and Gerard is its heart. If I don't get called away into the Brita situation, I'll even go with you." Moral support.

"As will I, if you wish. The Order should stand in solidarity," [Jovian] adds with a prompting glance at Marius and Lilly. "Gerard and Caine are a good choice; their methods differ but I believe their motives are sound." He does not feel it necessary to add that his father respects them; anyone with a grasp of recent history can infer that.

Marius listens as Lilly makes her offer, and then shakes his head.

"I do not disagree with the idea that the Order should stand in solidarity. But I think one of us should still remain on guard, if it were, and perhaps court our Prince's opinion. To some extent, that allows me, for I can only volunteer myself, to hear what is to be heard to incriminate our dear 'cousin.'" He shrugs. "I am willing to be convinced otherwise."

"Sound enough for our purposes." Lilly says. "Do not forget Vialle either. She is the current regent. We do not know how long Random will be gone. It is fair to say she can make your life miserable if she wishes. Of course I will vouch for you. I may not have much influence but what little is there I will use in your favor.

"As for other suggestions, Aisling, I will need time to think on it. Should anything come to mind I shall let you know." She adds.

Finally, in a more spitballing tone, "I don't know. Why not show us those locations you used." [Brennan] doesn't mean all five Knights right now, unless everyone wants an unlikely field trip. "If as you say, Borel has a spy in development, Dara knows at least one of them and might be tempted to use them for the same purpose."

Aisling raises her brows a bit. "I value precision in reporting, Sir Brennan. I conveyed to you the news of the spy as I heard it: the claim is not mine.

"As for locations, I imagine that Oberon gave Martin news of any space he found, and that all spaces that Martin knows about are now useless. Perhaps some other Chaosite moved into the castle in the years I was gone; I have not seen any sign of this yet. I would, of course, be pleased to take any of you who wish on an excursion through so much of the castle as you can reach at some future time. For the present, I suggest that you take care to plaster up any cracks and rat holes that may exist in your rooms, and beware of things under the bed." She smirks slightly.

"Actually," Lilly says, "I would be interested in such a tour. It may be useful in planning castle defensive and offensive strategies. Especially if our enemies have knowledge of the nooks and crannies hidden within these walls."

"We need to learn more about our enemies as a whole if we're going to defend ourselves against them, and of our friends if we are going to support them," Marius says. He grins, suddenly, his face lighting up. "Perhaps Aisling can provide classes on the culture and what should be known of the fellows who occupy it, so we can better understand. Knowing only that they can be killed is of limited value in reconciliation."

"To share information is to increase the listener's chance of survival at the expense of your own," Aisling starts on the culture classes then and there. "I will offer these sessions.

"Are there any suggestions specific to dealing with the emotions of Martin and his cadre? If he challenges me to a duel, I am inclined to mock him," Aisling offers warning, a thread of hope in her that there's some better way out that she hasn't had enough sleep to see.

Somehow Lilly manages not to shudder visibly. Mocking a challenge went against every grain of her personal honor. "Why mock? Tell him you will duel on your terms. Then of course suggest something you know you can win. Turn the situation to your advantage rather then further aggravating it. Hopefully though it will never come to that. When he returns I can speak with him if you would like to gain a better understanding of his intentions."

Jovian does not manage not to shudder visibly, "To first blood, please?" he mutters into the hand covering his face.

It's evident from Brennan's highly annoyed look that, if Aisling thought she was making a joke, it fell entirely flat. And, moreover, that Lilly probably saved her from a sharp retort.

Aisling's eyes narrow. She was offering information and asking for help. Alas, due to the vanquishment of streamers, it might not be obvious that she feels trod upon.

"I'm still thinking about it. A way for both sides to save a little face would be nice. Although, a duel might turn out to be Martin's idea of just that. You never know," Brennan says.

"Any form of duel I would win would be won due to 'revolting Chaosite tricks', or would be 'a mockery of the hallowed tradition'," Aisling speaks mainly to Lilly, and then with an aside in the direction of Marius, "And I will be very pleased to hear that I am wrong, but it seems to me that any duel I lose will demonstrate to the people of Amber that Martin commands the forces of righteousness by virtue of his fighting ability, and thus that I am a traitor and the king a fool." Note to those with air greater than, say, a block of lead: Aisling does not buy the central conceits of dueling.

"So it seems to me the best bet is to respond to any challenge with a denial..." Aisling sighs and rubs her eyes with her hands, looking extremely tired, "And I will probably be able to resist engaging in mockery if..." she cuts off _he does not further slander me,_ oh why even bother to mention it, they're not interested in caveats, and she's not even sure she can either way anyway, she folds her arms and gazes at the floor with her chin nearly to her chest.

"I would be pleased to explore options," [Aisling's] tone indicating "sometime later", with a tilt of her head to Brennan and Lilly.

By this time it's just been too much to react to anymore. Likely Brennan, possibly Aisling, would know that Jovian has no trouble reading the indictment in Aisling's self-censorship, and may know how deeply it cuts him. But he's done reacting to it for the day. He doesn't even look up. He could be a new bit of statuary...a Rodin, perhaps.

"For solidarity...." Brennan has an image of Aisling and all the Knights heading up and accosting Caine and Gerard. "Might interfere with everything else. There's a window of indeterminate length for Jovian's participation with the FireLillies. It'll all sort itself out, I'm sure, but I'm not sure how long either should wait on the other."

"I'm flying tonight," Jovian says flatly. His tone doesn't invite comment - it is no more questionable than 'the sun will set in the west this evening.'

And finally, something Aisling said tickled a thought at the back of Brennan's mind: "Maybe even the parts not easily reached. All sorts of interesting things are making their way from that rubble, lately."

When someone inevitably gives him the pointed glance or asks outright, he adds, "Some of Brand's old possessions."