Preparations

Vialle agrees to see Jerod late in the morning. She meets him in her office, where Ember has taken up residence. Lilly is absent on other business, and Venesch is guarding the Queen in her absence.

Tea is brought and Vialle lets Jerod pour. She looks tired, as if she didn't sleep very well. "You're going with Corwin, and on to Rebma, aren't you, Jerod? How can I help you?"

Jerod has greeted his former teacher upon his arrival and while awaiting the Queen and is not uncomfortable discussing anything in front of him. In fact, it might even be more preferable than having Lilly around, though more for personal reasons than anything else.

Jerod accepts the tea responsibility and makes sure to prepare it exactly as he know Vialle likes, being sure it suits her tastes before pouring for herself. He has noticed her appearance and his voice perhaps contains a note of concern though he does not immediately voice anything on that subject.

"First your majesty I was wondering if there is any message you might have wished delivered to Rebma. If you wish I would be honoured to bring it there for you." Jerod says.

"Thank you, Jerod. I have some written messages for friends and family in Rebma that I had hoped to ask Valeria to deliver," Vialle says with a smile. She gestures to Ember, who opens a drawer of the desk and produces an oilskin packet and hands it to Jerod.

Jerod accepts the packet, making a careful note of the seals to be able to ensure that if they are breached he can detect it. Once he has finished his evaluation, he places it to one side before continuing.

"Second, I was hoping if I might be able to beg a favor."

"You know you have but to ask," Vialle replies.

"Persuasion and protection." Jerod says. "We both know the various possibilities that may ensue upon my return to Rebma. Now that Martin is son of the King, the pressures will shift in various directions. I do not deny that much more attention will be paid to him now that he is a much bigger prize, but that can also place him out of reach. Other attention will focus on me in his absence. There are a number of things I wish to do while I am there. One is to determine the situation with Conner and any connection with Harga'rel's murder.

"I would like you to confer a position, temporary until my return, as your investigator of this matter, as well as any matter subject to Amber's...interests. Something with an pretty title but no real power. They won't know that though and we both know the value of appearances. If things get sticky I can use it as a fall-back in diplomatic circumstances. You can never have too many face-saving options. That may prove useful when dealing with others above my station."

Jerod pauses to await her reply and will accept it regardless of which way she decides to go (he does trust her after all, as much as he trusts anyone).

"Random thought of this before he departed," Vialle says. She gestures to Ember, who brings forward another sealed document, this one with several ribbons or seals, including a unicorn's head in red wax.

"Makes him a good poker player." Jerod muses.

It's only the second time Jerod has seen such a seal since his father died.

"You'll find you're appointed as Amber's Royal Envoy to Rebma," Vialle says.

"We'll see if I live to regret it." Jerod makes note of the seal and accepts the document, checking it carefully before putting it aside with the other letters.

"That's the persuasion part, your majesty." Jerod says. "The protection part is more...delicate." and he seems reluctant to speak to her concerning what is on his mind. Venesch's presence does not appear to be a factor in this reluctance - it seems to be a question or comment that he would rather not have to ask about.

"I want you to tell me about Martin, and what happened with Morganthe." Jerod says.

Vialle says, "Are you sure you want me to do that, Jerod? Sometimes it's better not to stir up what lies in the deeps." She sounds very tired, and perhaps a little sad.

"It is not a topic I would to bring up under normal circumstances. I have little desire to be a voyeur of another's pain." Jerod says. "But the burden of immortality makes the past impinge more for us than for mortals. It tarnishes the present though the past can be long dead. If I am to deal with the present, I must know the shark's lair I am to enter. That includes you and Martin and Random...and Morganthe."

Vialle would know the tone in Jerod's voice. This is an uncomfortable topic for him. It touches two people who are friends and one that he likes a lot. He prefers to leave well enough alone if he can. That he feels he cannot is the only reason he brings it up.

Vialle dismisses Ember and Venesch, who seems confident in his student's ability to protect the queen should some unexpected emergency require it.

"Of Morganthe, there is little I can say that you do not know already. I came to court when Martin was a boy; she was already dead. Random was an outlaw and did not return until he came with Corwin much later."

Vialle's voice turns a little shaky. "Of Martin, there is little more to say as well. There were enough people who knew of it at the time that would have been anxious to tell Random. I cannot imagine he does not know. He does not reproach me with what happened those many years ago. It is only Martin who cannot forget, who hates me for what I did.

"I did not know he would live through it. Everyone who had attempted to walk the Pattern had died, Jerod. I couldn't let him commit suicide. Do you understand?"

"I understand the reasons." Jerod says. "But I also have the benefit of hindsight, and that I did not go through it like he did. Uncle Random, he's too good at what he does to hold a grudge, especially for something long ago. Not unless is was very, very serious. Something like Brand would be in that category. I'm figuring he's hoping Martin will be able to work it out himself.

"I know Martin views it as a betrayal. I suppose in his circumstances I would have done the same. I'd be stupid to claim a superiority morality. I presume he didn't tell you why he was going to walk the Pattern? What was Moire's reaction?"

Vialle swallows. "Moire was pleased, very pleased. She granted me a minor title and court position for my 'work for the realm'. There were still many minor positions available to be granted. It was within a decade or two of the purge of the Libertists. My cousin Ursula, who first brought me to court, had inherited her position from a Libertist."

She takes a sip of her tea.

"And Martin saw this as a convenient means for you to advance your position at Court. I presume there were some harsh words?"

Vialle nods, but doesn't say anything.

Jerod says, "How did Moire proceed to isolate Martin after this?"

"There wasn't that much she needed to do to isolate him, Jerod. She'd already banished most of his friends and, of course, Lady Cassia. He had lots of new friends, of course, being who he was, but most of them were fair-weather. But she did set Montage on him as a--keeper. He eventually eluded Montage and walked the Pattern, but that was a decade or so later, after Montage's guard had relaxed somewhat," Vialle says.

She takes another sip of her tea.

"That explains his reaction to the Queen's wolves." Jerod says, taking a look at her tea and refilling it as necessary.

Vialle waits until he has refreshed the cup to take it up again.

"What do you think Moire will do when I return?"

"There was a time when I could have told you that with some confidence, but after everything that's happened, I don't know that I can any more." Vialle pauses to think.

"I suspect she's long wanted a Pattern initiate under her control. That would explain a lot about you and Martin, and why Rilsa was--out of favor--for a time when you were a boy. You'd hardly have noticed, but she was. That was over by the time you were old enough to notice. What she doesn't understand is that you can't make a Pattern initiate do something that's really distasteful to them. Your father was starting to learn that before he died, but he had more Pattern initiates to work with than Moire ever has."

Vialle lifts her cup and drinks again.

"Hmmm...I wonder how much of Cambina's refusal to consider marrying Martin went into that for dad." Jerod says, leaning back. "It would explain the Queen's behaviour though, now that I fit pieces together. I'll need to keep my eyes open. With Amber in a reduced state, I suspect she's not going to be too worried about displeasing the King. Bend and Montage are certain to be sending a report back to tell her that much. Especially if Rebma's pattern is still working. I'll have to investigate that."

Having finished pretty much everything he had come to ask, Jerod takes up his own cup to drink a moment. "And how are you doing?" he asks, letting her hear the switch between Court duty and friendship. "You're looking tired."

"Tired, mostly. I haven't been sleeping very well. I miss Random even more than I expected," Vialle says.

Jerod smiles a little. "Remember when you arrived here, after Random popped in with his little surprise for dad? The long odds from Court on how long you and him would last? Seems like you've been beating the odds."

Vialle smiles, and even with the visible weariness, she radiates happiness at the thought. "They have always underestimated Random. He's a better man than any of them knew. I know he and your father were at odds. I'm glad the two of them came to appreciate each other more before we lost him."

The smile fades a little. "Do you think you'll come back after this visit to Rebma, Jerod? There's so little to hold you here now."

Jerod nods, his own smile fading as well. "Amber has fallen some since before the Sundering. I must see what Paris is like, to know how far. I suspect it is a long way though. My sister's comments...her reaction when she arrived there, make me think it to be so. But I must be sure. I must see if for myself. And I must know if the same has happened to Rebma, if it has not happened, or is merely in abeyance.

"As for what happens here, who knows. Random always has something up his sleeve. He will surely know that without the Pattern or some other form of defense, we are vulnerable to Chaos. We cannot remain here. Either Amber is re-located, or Amber is rebuilt. But the old Amber is no more."

He puts his tea aside now. "But Amber is just a place, Vialle. What is important is family. Wherever they are...that's where home is. We can always rebuild a home. We can't rebuild a family. So even if I have more than one home, wherever those homes are...that's where I'll be."

He reached out to squeeze her hand. "Count on it."

Vialle tilts her head slightly and smiles as Jerod takes her hand. She clasps her other hand around his and says, "I do, Jerod."

Her expression turns more serious. "But the Pattern--that worries me. Random took the Jewel. I suppose he's gone to find out how to repair the Pattern. Do you think that's possible, Jerod? The repair, not the finding out how to do it?"

"I don't know." Jerod says honestly. "I suppose it's possible. Admittedly it's always easier to build than to repair though. He might simply have removed the Jewel from this location to keep it safer while he was gone. Now that Dara and company can get here, it's not like he can just give it to anyone for safekeeping."

"I know," Vialle says. She's a little pale. "I simply have to keep things together until he gets back, that's all. And he will be, soon." She sounds like she's trying to convince herself.

"Jerod, do you have any advice for me in dealing with the court? I can't burden Gerard with my worries, and so many of the others that he depended on in his Regency are leaving." She takes another sip of her tea.

"Shoot 'em all and let the Unicorn sort them out." Jerod says with a grim smile. He is only partly joking, though he does not expect Vialle to take him seriously.

He pauses to think for a moment. "Remember what it was like back home?" he asks. "Well, think of it now as being the same way, only now you've got an advantage. Amber's never had a Queen, not like this. Use it. You're going to be guarding things for Random til he gets back. Do just that. Play by your rules, not theirs.

"Some might see you as being worth respecting because of your position, your work the last five years. Others will see you as a female..." he says, using the tone that she would recognize that women use to describe some males in Rebma. "...unworthy of consideration. That you got where you were because of marriage.

"Use their inhibitions, their prejudices, their rivalries and their weaknesses. Protect your friends, watch your enemies. Reward those who make good decisions, even if you don't like them. You can work with people if you respect them. You don't have to like them. Don't reward your favourites just because they are favourites. And try to make those who make good decisions to be your friends. That way when you reward your friends, it's because they deserve it."

He pauses for just a second. "Most of all...follow your instincts. Dad said the difference between a good leader and a bad one was ten seconds and a heartbeat. He was right. Think about what you're going to do, but not too long. Make a decision and follow through with it. If it works, great. If it doesn't, change it. But don't apologize just because you change your mind. Just make sure that when you change your mind it's because you think it's right. You're obligated to listen to the people and hear their concerns. But you're not obligated to be their slave. Listen...feel...then lead.

"And if someone gives you real trouble...hand them over to Gerard or Caine. They'll be miffed if you don't give them something to do." Jerod says with a grin.

"My orders to Gerard are simple: help Solange find a cure for your legs," Vialle says firmly. "Although I doubt he'll obey them."

She reaches across the table and takes Jerod's hand. "The rest of it, I'll keep in mind, Jerod. It's all good advice; I just hope I can keep it in mind when I need it."

"Learn from your past...trust your instincts." Jerod says, squeezing her hand. "That's all any of us can do. You'll do okay then."

With that, he lets go of her hand. "And now, I must beg her Majesty's pardon for there is much to be done before I depart. With your permission?"

Vialle nods, "With my reluctant permission. Be careful, Jerod. I know you're a strong swimmer, but that doesn't mean I won't worry about the sharks in the depths."

"One is always careful to beware the sharks...even the lone orca." Jerod says with a smile, and a tone that says he appreciates her concern, even as he knows the sharks need worry about the orca in their own right.

And with that, he is off...

Paige finds her way to the Ocean Room perhaps a quarter watch before noon. She'll sketch the coast from the large eastern picture windows that give the room it's name. She's not disturbed by the sevants readying the luncheon she ordered earlier, but busies herself in sketching the view. Her second subject is the harbor below and the ships there. By the time she turns to another subject the food is set and Liam has thoughtfully poured her a cup of apricot tea. She smiles to him and nods, "I fear we'll be able to serve ourselves this afternoon, Liam. See that the others know, yes?"

Sipping her tea and returning to the window she waits for the others to join her.

The sound of hard boots on stone is heard and moments later Conner enters the room. "Good day, Paige. I trust you slept well?" Conner inquires walking over to pour himself some tea.

"Hmm, sleep? Yes," Paige says. She seems distracted, wrapped in her sketching or something, her eyes scanning the sky now, as if trying to find something among the clouds.

Bleys and Fiona come in together. The dark circles under Fiona's eyes are the only hint that she didn't sleep well. Bleys seems a bit more subdued than usual, but otherwise normal.

Brennan comes in practically on their heels, but evidently from another direction, as he greets Bleys and Fiona (Fiona with a squeeze on the shoulder) with everyone else.

He's got the look of someone who has already been up and active for eight hours already, and whose normal electricity and restlessness has been amplified by massive indulgence in coffee.

Conner smiles at Bleys and Fiona and then nods at Brennan when he enters. The cup of tea he just poured gets a twist of lemon and handed to his mother instead and then Conner goes back to pour himself one. "I'd pour you a cup of tea Brennan." Conner comments. "But it looks like you've already had stronger stuff." He smiles. "Busy morning?"

Paige turns and smiles to her father with a almost quizical expression on her face before shaking her head and closing her sketchbook. She gets up and crosses to the buffet and begins fixing herself a plate. A little of this, a little of that and a large glass of mixed wine, more water than anything.

Fiona says, without preamble, "We've had word of Brita. Mother has her." She sounds extremely cross.

Bleys says nothing, but crosses to the bar and starts mixing a drink for his sister. The tomato-based concoction he's creating is known in less couth circles as a Bloody Clarissa, but no one in the room would describe it so.

Paige hands her father the celery stalk from the vegetable plate as she makes her way back to one of the cerulean overstuffed chairs with her food and drink.

Brennan begins to brush a few stray hairs out of his eyes when Fiona begins to speak. Her words transform the gesture until his elbow is resting on the table, and his forehead is resting on the heel of his palm.

His eyes are closed.

He is not a happy camper.

Heroically, he says nothing.

Conner merely sips his tea his only reaction to the news being his already weak smile slipping further. "From that reaction, I presume you've met Grandmother?" Conner asks Brennan.

Brennan's response...

...Is a silent, pained glance at Conner, to see if that weak smile falls off completely. His forehead is still on the heel of his palm.

It doesn't actually. If anything it strengthens a bit. "I'll take that as a yes." Conner nods.

"Ambrose assured me they've tended to her and expect a full recovery. Her knee was dislocated and she sustained some other minor injries in her fight with Cleph, Dara's brother it seems," Paige offers. "Off topic, Cleph's also my odds on favorite for Merlin's assailant on the Paris Pattern.

"He explained his complicity in the Duchess putting forward that Merle was a prisoner here in Amber. I did my best to disuade him of that impression." It hasn't occured to Paige that no one here would know the name Ambrose.

"Ambrose?" Conner questions archly. "Are you saying you've known the Raven's identity all this time?"

"No, just since the middle of last night," she says. "It didn't seem like something worth disturbing what little sleep you all must've gotten."

"For what it's worth, he seems less than happy with how the Duchess has treated him," Paige comments.

Mention of Clarissa has not made Brennan particularly talkative. He's doing a good job of a Lilly impression, really, as he looks to Paige for more information.

Finally, if and after Paige continues, he asks Fiona (or Bleys) simply, "What does she want?" in carefully guarded tones.

Conner turns questioning eyes to the pair.

"Brennan, you make it sound like Grandmother is keeping Brita hostage," Paige offers.

[Holding reply so we don't run over Bleys and Fiona, but the Watery sorts in the room will easily be able to tell-- since he's not exactly hiding it-- that Brennan is in a pretty sour mood. He wasn't in a good mood when he came in, and mention of Clarissa was another wet blanket on the cold, musty heap of his day. That might be exaggerating his response.]

"I imagine she'd describe my niece as an early arrival on a long overdue mission of filial piety. She has suggested a family reunion. She hasn't suggested that it is the price of Brita's freedom, but I didn't suggest that we wouldn't go," Bleys says.

After a moment, he adds, "On a more positive note, I only had to tell her about Brita, Paige, Brennan, and her future great-grandchildren. Conner is not on her radar as of yet."

"Thank the Unicorn for small mercies." Conner murmurs.

Paige seems to be trying to recall something but dismisses it quickly.

"Tell her I died," Brennan says. He looks up with a sudden vicious grin, and adds, "Tell her Dara killed me. Two birds. One stone."

He does not expect a serious answer telling him this is not an option.

Conner actually chuckles at that then sobers. "So a family gathering in Chaos. Sounds like an event not to miss unless of course you can." He muses. "I take it is best for me to stay off her radar at present so if anyone goes it won't be me, yes?" He asks but it sounds more like a statement.

"Let's hope not," says Fiona, breaking her silence. She looks at Paige. "Why don't you tell us more about this ... Ambrose, Paige?"

Is there anyone who doesn't focus intently on Paige at this point? Well, Brennan does, anyway.

Paige smiled at Brennan's comments and flips back a couple of pages in her sketch book before handing it to her Aunt.

"He contacted me last evening, unsure as to my name, even," Paige explains. "He was offering an exchange of information. We talked for a while and then I joined him for some more conversation."

There are three quick studies of a young man with a striking resembance to Brand. The largest piece sets him before the lightly sketched of bookshelves and crystal lanterns. Over his shoulder is some sort of arcane apparatus. The other two play with the shadows of the darker room.

"As I said, I think he was misled by Dara. He's definitely Brennan's younger brother and I believe he's also what kept Brita from being eaten by Cleph."

"For which I am grateful." Conner replies. "What other information was exchanged? Did he mention where he got a Trump of you?" Conner asks.

"His father's deck. Brand was my teacher in such Arts. As to other information, it was varied. Seems his relations with Dara are strained and he's out for himself and Uxmal first," Paige offers.

"He was also interested to hear of the brother he never knew."

Bleys and Fiona both turn their gaze to Brennan, as if in tandem.

Not wishing to look like a spectator at a tennis match, Conner does not turn his head towards Brennan but instead finishes his tea and then moves to the bar for something stronger.

Brennan looks back at Bleys and Fiona with a certain amount of equanimity and holds the gaze for just long enough to imply that he speaks by choice, not by the duress of their combined stare.

"...What? If we're not going to trick Grandmother into killing Dara, I'm sure we'll meet at this family reunion. I'm sure she's not going to let go of that idea until it actually happens."

Fiona looks at Bleys, then back at Brennan. "You're the expert on Uxmal, Brennan. What do you think we should do about this Ambrose once we've rescued my daughter?" She is speaking exceptionally calmly and placidly.

Oh-that's-what-she-wants flickers very briefly across Brennan's face. He really does have a headache, so that final cylinder isn't firing quite right.

"Ah. Well I'm hardly inclined to trust the boy, if that's what you're asking. Blood ties only go so far, and his grand introduction to court was an attempted kidnapping and the provision of a handy getaway for a belligerant Borel.

"If he's out for himself and Uxmal first, he has a strange way about it: first helping attack Amber and then apparently crossing Dara scant minutes later. Good way to make a target of himself and Uxmal first, if he's on the up and up. Hard to believe Brand raised that big a fool, though."

Brennan looks at Paige. "He say if he actually knew Brand, or how old he is? Hard to believe Tayanna would have hidden the boy-- hard to believe Tayanna would even have the nerve to think of hiding the boy-- but I've been away for a long time. She could have woken up. Brand could have been disinterested or distracted. He could be not Tayanna's, for all I know.

"He give any indication on anything like that? Or the present state of Uxmal?"

"He mentioned something I didn't wholly grasp. He claimed that with your father's death the boundries between the native gods that had been killed and those he had bound are weakend. The cycle of time has changed and many things are possible in the new age that were not before. He's worried for his mother's place also.

"I suppose things are volatile enough that he didn't want it known that I was there and hustled home before I could see Brita," Paige explains with an apologetic look for her aunt.

"Knowing your father? Yes, he claimed to have been trained by him. In what? I'm not sure. Definitely not Trump. Ambrose claimed that your father might've tired of training students after the first several, as it was one of the neglected portions of his education.

"It seems Uncle Brand also glossed over matters in Amber and Brennan. He's keen to know if you're considering returning to Uxmal," Paige finishes.

Turning back to Fiona, "Bear in mind all the time that I've never met the boy except to throw a knife at him. At the very least, find him, keep him away from Dara and out of trouble-making until we know if we can trust him. Preseving Brita," [Brennan] adds, "could very well just be a survival skill. There's any number of mischievous things he could up to in Uxmal."

"His alliance with Dara was inherited from your father, and as I said, not something he's interested in perpetuating. He expects the fair Duchess to betray him as she did his father. As to Brita, I agree, it is a survival skill. Grandmother seems to want to meet her, and he's not willing to face her wrath. He said as much." Paige adds. "I believe he can be an ally," those of greater water will note an optimistic lilt to her voice.

"Handling Mother will involve negotiation. It's simply not done to assault one's own mother, especially since she made a point to mention her Bronze Legions to me last night. Given that she was at the funeral, I was relieved that we did not face them on the field. They would have made Benedict's Altamarean cavalry flanking maneuver problematical."

"'Problematical' being a fancy way to say suicidal, " Fiona interrupts. "Unless he was counting on Mother to pull them back to spare us."

Bleys nods slowly at her inference. "Brennan is right," he continues. "Mother will have her bit of drama and expect us to play our roles. I suspect that if she has any hare-brained schemes, they will be significantly more effective than Dara's. My advice, for what it is worth" he says, sweeping the assembly with his gaze, "is to neither provoke her nor allow her to entangle you."

This elicits a snort of mythic eloquence from Brennan. People the next hallway over, though, will note that Brennan is hardly disagreeing with the point.

"Now, our plans are of a necessity only the thinnest outline. I have to deal with the people of Daar es Salaam, so conveniently brought here by Eric's fine son. If it's left to Caine, it will be left to Winter, who would just as happily murder them in their sleep 'for the good of Amber', so it devolves to me to clean up their mess. As long as we tell Mother you're on your way, it should be no more than terrifying and/or character building for Brita and young Ambrose.

"Questions remain. Most notably, who will be a part of this expedition. Who has a recommendation or comment?" He looks around again and Fiona stirs her drink with her celery stalk.

Visibly wondering at the wisdom of his choice, Brennan raises his hand. "I offered my help, last night. This sounds like it." For all his grousing, Brennan might not be quite as opposed to the notion as he's trying to make it sound.

"As long as I don't have to leave right away. There is busines to attend first." Then, to Paige, Brennan grins a truly vicious grin and says, "So, Brand neglected to mention me, hmmm? I do so wonder why. All I ask is that no one tell him I'm going to be there until I arrive."

A thought takes [Brennan]. "Paige," he asks, his voice suddenly much more serious and intense, "Did he say where he was when Whistle was eaten, and with whom, and what he was doing?"

Paige, about to respond with a quick word or two, uncharacteristically, holds her tongue.

About this time Reid strides into the room, a bit winded, and makes for the bar before speaking. He looks as if he's had a busy morning.

"Sorry, the missing seem to be outnumbering the dead these days... Not a situation I'm used to. At least the dead have the courtesy to stay put, for the most part. Do we have a destination yet? Or should I shut up and take notes?" He sags into a seat, relaxed, yet alert.

[Bleys]
"Ah, Reid. I was wondering if you were joining us. Brita's kidnappers were intercepted. She's in Clarissa. We were just organizing a rescue mission and pic-nic."

Fiona smiles. "We do need someone to keep Mother off-balance." She sighs and her shoulders deflate. "And you're also the person most likely to be able to tell if she's been...tampered with." Fiona's mouth is hard as she says this and her voice is cold. At this moment, it is easy to imagine her doing something unimaginable in defense of Brita.

"Ambrose seemed to believe that Brita was fine, but I suppose I didn't dig far enough into what the treatment had been for her wounds.

"As to what Ambrose, or Raven," for Reid's benefit, "was doing, I can only imagine that he came to assay a Pattern, and that while Cleph and his sister know of the Paris's they didn't see fit to share that with Brennan's brother. That much I did learn."

Brennan makes no reply to this, except for a certain set of his jaw and a glance over at Fiona to see what she's thinking.

"Seems like I'm going to need a bigger parchment for my family tree..." Reid muses. "Do we have quick transport to our goal, or would be we be riding the long way? Unfortunately I am tasked with handling the Haraga'rel affair, so my participation in any visits would have to be either brief or delayed."

Reid thinks seriously for a moment before turning to Paige. "If you've chatted with Brita's current keeper, has anyone had actual contact with Brita herself? I know what it's like to be cut off from the family party lines and I don't like the idea of her being out in the cold, if that's the case."

Brennan shakes his head, no, he hasn't.

Paige also indicates negative.

Bleys finishes his drink. "I'm quite sure they were in the basement," Bleys says, affirming Paige's suspicion. "To the extent that Brother Benedict wanted to 'teach them a lesson' with the war, the lesson 'don't sneak into the pattern chamber' hasn't stuck with Dara. One wonders what lesson Benedict did teach them?"

"I have an idea for a new lesson after we get Brita back."

"Don't be bloodthirsty, Fiona. Not yet, anyway. Besides, Random may want to take care of Dara, himself."

"Reid, we're leaving soon, but we're going by sea to drop off Jerod's pirates. We should be able shave some time off Jerod's round trip time of more than a year, even with a detour by way of Clarissa."

"In case it's been unclear, I'd like to come, even if His Majesty suggested that the Regent will need my support in Court and the courts," Paige says. "I suppose you might Trump me when you arrive." It's apparent that she's much more interested in accompanying her Father.

Brennan looks like he'd rather economize on time and Trump Bleys or Fiona once they're likely to be there, but, "How do you want to play it?"

"Indeed," Reid muses. "Prolonged wet journeys aren't my idea of a good time... more of a desert-half-way-to-chaos man, myself, though look where that's gotten me before... Is the current plan for a standard bearing trumpster to lead the way and bring in reinforcement along the way? Or a movement en masse?"

Fiona looks at Reid and then at Brennan. "We can spare you for most of the journey, but Clarissa is beyond Ygg, and Mother might make it difficult for Trumps to work."

Bleys looks at his beverage. "Trumps do not currently work between Amber and Clarissa. I've the headache to prove it."

Paige nods and comments quietly to no one in general, "Yes, that would make sense. Ambrose claimed it might be some time until he could contact me again. I just never connected it with the fact that he was taking Brita to Clarissa this morning."

Fiona looks at him. "Is it settled then? Paige and Conner with us as far as the Land of Peace, then Reid and Brennan join us around Ygg?"

Turning to her Father, "Are you sure I should be going? Uncle Julian is of the opinion that Pattern is the strongest defense against Artemis.

"Of course as Amber currently lacks a Pattern I suppose you're as close as I can come, Aunt," she says wryly, turning back. "Should we be pricing real estate in Paris or does His Majesty have a plan to rectify that lack?"

Bleys snorts with amusement. "Both, of course!"

"Seems like a sound plan." Reid replies.

Brennan nods to Fiona. "Unless there's a new Trump of me floating around," and he looks at Reid, since by now there might be one, "I gather you'll contact Reid? Any idea how long that will be, or are the flows of time too unpredictable to plan around by the route you plan?"

Reid offers, "You're in the house deck, but I don't think there's a spare set for travel yet. I should be fairly available for contact though."

Fiona nods. "A week. Two."

Bleys says "It depends on how soon our friends are ready to sail, but I don't want to spend too long here."

Brennan nods to them both. "Barring unexpected circumstances, then." Of course, lately, he could have said, 'Unless it rains this spring,' but they know what he means.

"I'll pack and get my household in order," Paige says. "I'll also see to it that I'm up to date with everything Lorring's got on his plate, before we go." She seems excited about getting out of Amber.

"When do we leave?" is Conner's only question.

"It depends on our friends. Ideally, on tomorrow's noon tide, if they're ready. I have a ship that I have the use of that will suit us. Conner, can you find out if they'll make that ship date?"

Conner nods. "I'll make the rounds of the Captain's and persaude them to be ready." Conner smiles a little grimly.

[Conner does as he suggests and finds the crews are quite amenable. Final cargo and supply loading is happening as Conner speaks to the admirals. It's almost as if they knew...]