After Solange leaves Lucas, she decides to look for Hannah. She never came by last night to talk, and Solange wants to make sure she's all right. She starts with Hannah's room in the castle and knocks on the door.
Where she will find her, wide awake and smiling as she opens the door. "Come in. I was just about to get dressed and come looking for you. Sorry about last night, I got caught up in research."
Solange enters. "Not a problem. Did you made progress...?"
"Well..." she sighs. "The sample is just too small to mean anything."
Hannah will close the door behind Solange. Her hair is down and loose this morning, and she's still in her robe. Unlike her buttoned up blouses, this exposes a four pointed star, tattooed in black just between her collar bones at the base of her throat. Solange can be pretty sure that wasn't there the last time they sat down to talk in Amber.
Her eyes linger on the star. "Is it new? Feel free to let me know if I'm being too nosey."
Hannah stops and really smiles. "No. I mean, no, you aren't too nosey. Yes, it's new. It's... ah, complicated explanation with a lot of guesswork. Please, sit. Let me just throw something on."
"Please, sit. Let me just throw something on."
Hannah throws on some clothes in tune with the kind of conservative look she's been wearing since the attack on Amber and comes back in to sit down.
Solange sits in the same chair as last time they talked in Hannah's room. "First of all, I'd like to congratulate you on a successful Patternwalk. Congratulations," she smiles.
Hannah sits and curls her legs up under her. She's brought a journal back with her, and a pen. She grins.
"Thanks. That's where the mark came from. I think I know why. Did you get something like that when you walked?" she asks.
Solange's eyebrows go up. "No. Vere's hair changed color. You got a star. Nothing happened when I walked. I think I feel slighted," she jokes. "Did you have a piece of jewelry there when you walked?"
Hannah nods. She was beginning to wonder about the colored streaks people have. "No. My people call it the Mark of Honor. My father wouldn't let my sister and I take it - modern society considers such things barbaric. But it is achieved in a ceremony that has interesting parallels to the Pattern Walking. I should not have been surprised, but I was."
Hannah shrugs and smiles. "My father will be angry, and proud."
"So...you didn't have a piece of jewelry there and the Pattern decided to just put something there anyway, something that had significance to you?" Solange asks, looking for clarification.
"Perhaps?" Hannah says. "Does it decide? I always wanted to complete the ritual - it's an endurance ritual, just like the Pattern. It involves a journey, inward, just like the Pattern. In the end, the initiate stands alone at the center." She shrugs again. "It does make me wonder. At home, the power of standing at the center of the universe - literally, in our view - passes through the woman and out into the tribe. She is their connection. At home, it's just a tattoo, done as part of the ceremony. I mean, it doesn't just appear, like this. It was one of the few things my father and I strongly disagreed on, but since you can't do the ceremony without the Chief, my hands were tied.
"I don't know. I don't know if it was something I just wanted very badly. I don't know if it had any spiritual effect at home - or if there was really any effect from the blessing I said for Xanadu. I wish I knew. I hate not knowing things," Hannah admits.
"Fascinating," Solange concludes. "I'd suggest talking to Uncle Random about the Xanadu stuff. He might even have some insight into the Pattern stuff, now that he's drawn one. The damn thing seems almost sentient at times...or, alternately, perhaps we just have more subconscious control over it than we think.
"Why did your father disagree about you taking the ritual? You'd think he'd be proud you wanted to."
"Well... I think he was proud, but he's a careful man. He's very good at looking at the lay of the land and making a decision based on that. First off, it was illegal. I've been to jail once already for breaking that law, on a smaller scale, and if I tried to do it with the whole tribe it'd be pretty obvious. Then there were a lot of politics that it would undermine. My father thinks we have to assimilate the tribe with the society that now lives around us, and that means no heathen rituals, no barbaric marks - no magic. Plus there are a whole bunch of superstitious types out by us that might take a mark to mean something..." Hannah rolls her eyes and sighs. "He'll be angry and proud, until he realizes he doesn't need to be angry."
Hannah looks very sad for a moment, thinking about her father. Somehow she shrugs it off and smiles. "Maybe he felt it at home though. Perhaps he already knows. Or perhaps he dreamed me talking to him on my walk." That makes her smile.
"Oftentimes people who are important to us make an appearance. Did you see him while on the Pattern?" Solange asks.
"Oh, yes. He was the last person I talked to. Let me ask you something, maybe you know. Who is the woman in this family who gave birth in the woods?" Hannah asks.
Solange frowns, thinking. "Birth in the woods....? Don't know for sure. I assume this is someone else you saw on the Pattern? What did she look like? Anyone else there in the vision?"
Hannah winces. "I didn't see her, I *was* her. There was another woman, who seemed like," now she grins, "the War Chief to me. A subordinate but someone with power of their own. This isn't anything like what your experience was like, is it?"
"Not really..." Solange admits, but then she shrugs. "It's different for everyone. Don't let it faze you. So what happened?"
Hannah nods. "Ancestors, I think. Relatives, quite likely, if not direct ancestors. I may have seen through their experiences - but it is a perhaps. It's nothing so defined. Maybe it's just something my 'subconscious' cobbled together."
Hannah shrugs. "I'll figure it out later. Let's talk about your father." She smiles.
"Oh...one more thing..." Solange's expression turns a bit sheepish. "I told Vere and Robin that you'd walked the pattern. I'm sorry if I was indiscrete."
Hannah laughs. "You mean there are secrets in this family? I assumed everyone would know within the week.
Solange's expression switches to relief.
"I wasn't trying to keep it a secret, I just wasn't interested in the crowd Lilly had. And I'm glad - because it was hard. It was awesome and horrible. I came out of it crying, just happy to have come out of it. I'm feelin' like a cake wouldn't be undeserved..."
"So you shall have a cake," Solange laughs. "What's your favorite?"
"Oh, that's funny. I like all cake," Hannah says, shaking her head.
"I'll surprise you, then," she grins. Solange's smile is bright, like the sun peeking out from behind dark clouds. Just as quickly, the dark clouds return and the smile fades.
"Hannah, I wanted to talk to you about Father, too."
Hannah shifts her position, getting more comfortable, and nods, and waits.
Solange exhales, trying to decide where to start. There's a lot of ground to cover. Best to start at the beginning and work forward.
"I had a conversation with Vere yesterday on the way to the funeral. He told me that his mother told him that Father thought he was dying."
Solange pauses a moment, letting Hannah absorb that before continuing.
Hannah nods, just listening.
"I confronted Father after the funeral. He assured me that no, he didn't think he was dying and that he was just so tired of fighting all the time, and the tiredness was what Vere's mother picked up on. Honestly, I don't know whether to believe him or not. I don't think he's in any danger of wheeling his chair off Kolvir into the icy blue water below, but he's..." She fumes, searching for the right word. "He seems to me to be more despondent. Like the joy of living is gone."
Hannah purses her lips. "Pain is a compounding factor, and we can blame many things on it, but there are other circumstances that contribute to an overall spiritual sadness and depression. Your father was the regent. He kept himself going in order to fulfill that role, but from my point of view there's little doubt that role fulfilled him as well. Now it's gone. I don't know what he did before that... but what your father is feeling is typical of someone who has a chronic condition affecting their life. Perhaps his condition isn't actually chronic, but I promise you five years of pain and confinement feels chronic."
Hannah tilts her head and looks a little grim. "He may think he's dying. That doesn't mean he wants to. He's under a lot of pressure. Do you see it?"
"Many of the responsibilities I can think of have been taken away. There's Vere's oath..." Solange thinks a moment, then shakes her head. "What pressure?"
"The invisible kind. Vere's oath probably doesn't help, but let's not tell him that. He can't undo it. It's not just the normal pressure of children who want you to be well - and happy. Not all pressure is bad. It's this whole family. What I hear over and over again is that we heal - as a family, what we survive, we heal from. I'm not at all sure that's true, but it seems to me even your father believes - or believed - that to be a fact. That makes the fact that his healing isn't complete feel like a personal failure. Your father isn't the only one in this family who is wounded, he just can't hide his like everyone else does. No one seems to want to admit that this could have been them - and that *they* may not have healed."
Hannah shakes her head. "I haven't asked him how all that makes him feel, so I could be wrong. I'm not sure him facing all these things would help him, by any measure. I _do_ believe he has healed and is healing and perhaps that ongoing damage has turned it into a loop where he can survive like this, but not forever. It has to be a degrading cycle. Things have to change."
"We talked about this a little. Father said that it's common to regenerate missing toes, fingers, earlobes...but something on this scale? It's not been done. Uncle Corwin regenerated his eyes. Eyes are smaller than one's entire lower body, but arguably more complicated...?" Solange looks at Hannah for her opinion.
"Apples and Oranges," Hannah says gently. "There are so many differences: soft tissue verses hard tissue, regeneration verses realignment. I could spend a long time explaining my many theories but until I can start eliminating possibilities they're just a lot of educated guesswork."
[OOC: Question to GMs. Has Benedict grown back a new arm?]
"Things do have to change, Hannah. I agree with you there. While I was confronting Father after the funeral, Vere and Robin showed up and we all talked. I'm sorry you weren't there, but Vere was going back to the Isles and if we were going to include him in the conversation, it needed to be done right then."
"I understand," Hannah agrees.
"The upshot was that Father wants to pursue a magical solution rather than a technological one, and that the solution needs to enable Father to heal himself rather than doing the healing for him. The reason for the latter is so he doesn't fear a magical solution coming apart while walking the Pattern or traversing shadow."
Hannah nods.
"We also talked agreed that any solution concerning Father also needed to include you, if you're still willing to oversee his case. I want you to think about this, Hannah. I know that you have a family back home, that you have other responsibilities, possibly other interests. I don't want to force you into a situation you don't want to be in..."
Solange trails off and her eyes fill with unshed tears. She looks down at her hands.
Hannah reaches over and grabs Solange's hand. "Oh, my Sage Hen, I'm not going to abandon your father. I made all my own decisions on the Pattern. If I was going to go, I would have gone then. This is hard, has been hard all these years and everyone just had to survive them. Now there is some time to think, and it's all too much."
Solange looks up and her relief that Hannah will still help is plainly evident on her face. The tears spill unbidden down her cheeks.
Hannah comes over to hold Solange and let her cry it out.
To cry is to lose control, and that isn't a position Solange wants to let herself fall into. To try not to cry when emotion is running high is often harder, and her effort to maintain control leaves her shaking against Hannah's shoulder.
After a moment she sits back and squeezes Hannah's hand, then furiously wipes at her face. "Thank you," she manages after another moment, once control is more-or-less reestablished. "It's a lot to ask, and you've offered freely. Thank you."
"This is my life path, Solange. This is what I do," Hannah shrugs, and gives her some space, going back to sit and gathering up her journal.
"If your father wants to try the magical path, I'm prepared to do that - it's all 'medicine' to me. I think first, though, there are things that need to be done. I know he's tired, but if we do this the wrong way, we could kill him. The problems his painkiller causes are contributing to his fatigue. We *have* to change that."
"Yes, we agreed on that last we talked. Has that process started yet?" Solange asks.
"For the part of the process that involves me walking the Pattern so I can go find something, yes. But that's all. I'd been reading, trying to get an understanding of how such a thing would work, but it was taking too long and I realized I needed to move into a position where I can go - touch - learn. I'm there, now I just have to set up the going."
"If there's anything I can do to help..."
Hannah nods. "While that's going on, I'd like to get a better idea of exactly what is wrong. That question is not answered - I know there has to be a better way than an exam, but I don't know what that is. More magic, maybe? You've traveled more - what do you think we could do to determine exactly what's wrong without having to do research surgery?" Hannah asks.
"Well, on the technological end of things, there are numerous noninvasive procedures to obtain images of what's going on inside his legs. Even in the shadow where I attended school, they had the technology to do MRIs, CAT scans, PET scans, X-Rays..." She pauses to ascertain if Hannah is familiar with any of these terms.
"I've never seen any technology that can look inside a person without cutting them open. If we can do that, if your father will agree, we need to do that. I'm more concerned about his spine, frankly. That's the area I have more questions about, I should say."
"I'll talk to him about it. Hopefully, it won't be a problem getting his assent." Solange sighs and rubs her eyes.
"That's okay, I'll take care of that. There are a lot of things I need to discuss with him anyway," Hannah grins. "Is there a timeline on when we're heading back?"
Solange shrugs and shakes her head tiredly. "I've not heard anything. Just a minute, though...I'm curious now and happen to have a trump of Uncle Random..."
She pulls out her trump deck and fishes for Random's card, then concentrates on it.
Random's face appears. He's got a grin on his face and is illuminated by a reddish glow. "Solange. Your timing is impeccable. What can I do for you?"
"Someone else walking your Pattern?" she quips, giving him a weary smile. "Hannah and I were wondering if there was a timeline for heading back to Xanadu."
"These first steps go so much better if they're watched. Gives people a sense that someone appreciates their hard work. Do you want there to be a timeline? Do you have one you'd like it to be?"
Hannah looks a bit curious and a bit worried about whomever is walking that Pattern.
Solange raises her eyebrows at Random. "If you're going to delegate authority, I'd rather have say over what kind of ice cream we have after supper," she jokes, glancing at Hannah with a "do you want to go through now?" look.
Hannah shakes her head. "I'll go through with your father, when he goes. Tonight? Tomorrow?"
Random, of course, doesn't hear Hannah. He nods at Solange.
"I'll be done here in a few hours, call me sometime after that and I'll bring you through upstairs." He grins, but quickly his visage becomes serious. "As for the other thing, I've already appointed Julian Minister of Ice Cream. I'm afraid you've been scooped."
Solange laughs. It feels good, after the events of the last few hours, and with it her visage transforms brightly. "He'll do an excellent job, I'm sure. Thanks for the info."
She cuts the contact and turns to Hannah, still smiling. "He said to trump him back in a couple of hours and he'll bring you through. You can have Father call. I think I'm going to stay here for awhile. Oh, and Uncle Julian is the Minister of Ice Cream."
Hannah scowls. It's almost even a convincing scowl. "I have to be the Minister of Health and... Sanitation and he gets to be the Minster of Ice Cream? That King and I are going to have a talk about these appointments." A grin just barely cracks out. "I want to be the Minister of _Lacrosse_ and Shinny."
"Is that some sort of food?"
Hannah laughs. "No! Oh no - it's a, they're games. Games with teams and sticks and balls and goals - one for summer, one for winter. But dead serious. Some tribes used to settle conflicts with them. I haven't seen anyone here play anything that wasn't an instrument yet. Obviously, there needs to be a Minister."
"Sounds like fun. I enjoy a good, hard game: physical exertion, getting sweaty, pushing myself, all that. It's hard to find competition," Solange sighs. "We're all so much stronger and faster than most everyone else. Frustrating, really. So you'll show me sometime? The games? How to play?"
Hannah smiles. "Of course I will. It'll be something to keep the younger ones out of trouble, too. Just have to gather up some branches and vine from... the woods. Or maybe send someone out for it," she admits with a sheepish grin.
Solange nods absently, wondering if they'll remember. So many things going on, and yet so little time to attend to them all. Ironic, for people who are immortal. She feels her melancholy mood returning.
"I have some things to attend to," she tells Hannah as she stands. "Take care of Father in Xanadu...I've a feeling it will be sometime before I'm back there myself. I remember that you wanted support for Father when you change his medication, so I asked Folly and she agreed to help. She's his foster-daughter, so feel free to talk to her about his case."
"Oh." Hannah says. Then she nods.
"Your father already told me about Folly - we've talked some, so that's... perfect. Does Folly have a lot of experience in Shadow?"
"Some," Solange replies. "She just recently walked the Pattern herself. If shadow experience is what you need, she'll know who to talk to. I trust her judgment."
Hannah nods again.
"Take care, Hannah. And thanks again." Solange smiles, but the smile is preoccupied. She turns to leave.
Hannah stands up. "Solange, be careful, okay? You've got the glazed look of... someone about to do something... dangerous. Just be careful."
Solange grins fondly at Hannah over her shoulder before stepping out the door.
Brita makes her way to Conner's room and stands outside the door for a minute contemplating the time. It is still dark out and will be for some time. The servants aren't even up and about yet, but she Must get This started before He Departs. As quietly as she can, she eases the door open and moves inside. The small lantern she has with her is shuttered so as to only leak enough light to move around with....
[If Conner wakes up at this point, he'll find Brita in his room with her sketch pad and a box of pencils tucked under one arm. If he doesn't, he'll find Brita on a chair, sketching near his bed when he wakes up.]
"If you plan to turn professional," Conner yawns from the bed. "You'll want to learn to oil hinges." Conner removes his hand from the blade beside him under the covers. "Its annoying when servants enter, but I prefer the tiny squeak they make for times like this."
Brita smiles as she continues into the room and brings the lamp close to the bed. "I figured you might have Something - either Magic or Normal. You are never Surprised. I'll have to work Harder for your Birth Day Celebration." Brita has set down the lamp and moves to bring a chair next to the bed. "I truly did not want to disturb you, but I need to get started on a Trump of You, Brother. My Sketch was destroyed in my Walk." She settles onto the chair and pulls out her pad. "You can continue to sleep if you want or we can talk." She flips open the pad and begins a quick sketch.
"A Trump of me napping does not appeal at all." Conner chuckles and he shifts himself up on his pillow so he is propped up on his pillows. "Much better." He flashes his winning smile of his and then lets it slip to the natural smile that most people rarely see.
"The diplomat's mask won't do for a Trump will it?" He asks rhetorically. "So what has you so short of time that you decided on breaking and entering for your art?" He inquires.
"Nothing other than a Brother that won't necessarily Sit Still," Brita smiles to take off the edge as she flips the page and starts a new sketch. "I really just need a bunch of Sketches from which to build the Trump. Your Smile is much better than the Diplomat, though. For the Trump, if you are still Here, I would like to take you Up to the Art Room. The Light is Best up there at Dawn." /hint, hint/
"A meeting at dawn would have sounded supurb had I been allowed a good night's sleep." Conner chides her with a chuckle. "So I saw you meet whoever Bleys trumped in. What the news on the latest arrival?"
Brita smile widens. "You do Not need any More Beauty Rest, Brother. I will not be able to Beat the Women off with even Uncle Thor's Hammer if you get Any more." She shifts position slightly to get a different angle for her sketching. "Cousin Edan is Cousin Paige's new Brother. He was...," her brow furrows slightly as she searches for a descriptor, "Interesting. He is from the Shadow Land of Peace but has had many Interesting Adventures with his Father Bleys." She smiles over her sketch pad, "Perhaps my Brother should Take me on some Adventures through Shadow. Master Reid was Focused on Teaching and Protecting more than Adventure."
"I know not where I am heading." Connner replies. "But I could not ask for a better companion for a journey." Conner smiles a fraction wider. "I'd be happy to show you around my corners of creation."
Conner falls silent for awhile to let Brita sketch in peace. A cousin from the Land pf Peace was most intriguing to Conner. To get another perspective on his Munniwalite allies and the Dey could be most useful. Still there is nothing pressing on that score. "Any other surprises after I left?"
"Surprises?" Brita's brow furrows over her Sketch. "No. Even the Attack was not musch of a Surprise. Just the Direction. I am still Waiting for the Attack from Dara or _clef_."
"Honestly, I am not sure that I am anymore." Conner says matter of factly. "At least not an attack here. In a very real sense, things are moving on from here. It is no longer the strategic and symbolic target it once was. But as you say, it is direction rather than action that is the question. Information on that side of things requires dealing with Grandmother, I fear. Perhaps it is better just to be prepared and hope for the best."
Brita nods, "Prepared We will be. When will you wish to Leave? Will we stop by Xanadu on the Way?" Brita flips the sketchpad around and hands it to Conner. The sketch shows Conner sleeping on his side facing into the center of the bed; even asleep, a smile pulls up the corners of his mouth. One lock of hair has fallen across his brow. "Think Your Thalia would Like this one?" Her eyes are twinkling although she looks serious.
Conner chuckles. "She probably would at that. Just promise me that is not what my family Trump will look like." His tone is mirthful but his eyes are serious.
Brita rolls her eyes as she rips out the page and hands it over. "Of Course Not," she says in her best 'My Brother can be such a doofus' tone. "I was wondering, however, what you thought of Mirrors in your Trump?"
"I think it is not wise to tempt fate." Conner replies. "Or in this case Rebmans. I don't think I'd trust even a representation of a mirror in something that closely entwined with myself. However appropriate it might be to do so." Conner looks over the sketch once more and then slips it into the drawer of his nightstand.
"We still have have breakfast in the morning and I have two uncles to speak with before I leave. A day or so at the most I should think."
Brita nods as she rises from her chair. "I will let you get some more rest, then, Brother. I am going to do More Sketching...Elsewhere... and will meet you and Mother at breakfast."
"Enjoy, dear sister." Conner yawns. "See you at breakfast."
After talking with Solange, but before going to check in with Gerard, Hannah decides to stop by and see if Solace is still in Amber.
Although she's more somber that she was on waking, she still hasn't thrown off her hopeful mood. There is a lot to be done, all to good ends, if she can just keep up with it all.
So Hannah, bag in hand, knocks on the St. Cyr's door.
There is a pause - a rather long pause, which is unusual. Normally the efficient Gaston (or perhaps the egregious Pert) would open the door within a few seconds.
Then the door opens, and it is Lucas standing there, dressed in dark trousers and a silk smoking jacket, embroidered all over with exotic blooms - lotus and lilies among them - on a dark green ground.
He looks a little surprised to see Hannah for a moment - and then his expression clears as he sees the bag she carries.
"Ah, you're not part of the procession of cousinly pulchritude that seems possessed of an overwhelming desire to wend its way to my chambers all of a sudden, are you? You're here in a professional capacity, I see. I'm afraid she's no longer here. I can, however, offer you a drink - or are doctors like the fabled policemen who never drink on duty?"
"I can drink water or juice," she says with a gamely grin.
Lucas stands back, and then ushers her in, and along to the living room. The corridor and rooms seem rather emptier than on her previous visits.
Hannah looks around curiously.
"Juice .... I think I can offer you pomegranate and raspberry, which I find an excellent pick-me-up. Or there may be some orange juice - Nanny Starch had Gouter squeeze some fresh every morning for Hope - and for Solace. As for water ... well, I have something which I try to pass off on myself as Italian mineral water - con gasso - but the bubbles are really to large to deceive the discerning palate, even if the taste passes muster. Or I believe I have some still Kolvir spring water. Whichever you would prefer."
He looks at her enquiringly.
She smiles at some memory. "Pomegranate, I haven't had that in so long. If you have some, I'd love that."
"Cerainly," he says obligingly, and strolls across to a cupboard. When he opens the door it proves to be cork-lined, for keeping things cool. He takes out a tall flagon that contains a rich red juice and pours two glass goblets, then takes one across to Hannah and hands it to her with a little bow, retaining the other for himself. As he promised, it is an excellent pick me up, fresh and tart with the raspberries adding a hint of rich sweetness.
"Pulchritude... that sounds like some kind of flock," she laughs.
"Minus a consonant and with the sort of vowel shift the Anglo Saxons favoured and you have it," says Lucas.
"So you've got her back to Xanadu already, hm?" she asks.
"No," says Lucas. "Xanadu would have been my choice for her, but she preferred to accompany the children, who are now under the protection of my mother." His face is suddenly grave, and the light, sardonic tone is gone.
She turns from her study of his room, looking surprised. "You sent the children away? Why?"
The dark eyebrows lift, and his free hand reaches up to touch the mutilated ear, now half-hidden by his hair.
"You've heard about the attack at the coronation masquerade? My lasting injury might strike you as faintly humorous, but at the time, serious doubts as to my permenant recovery were entertained. Then Solace has been attacked twice ... and Paige's children were saved only at the cost of their father's life. We're playing 'Ten Little Soldier Boys' here, my dear Doctor; I had no intention of waiting for someone to decide to take out my children next."
Hannah blinks at him a moment. "Wait. Just hold on. Can I look at you?" she asks, motioning to his ear.
"One always trusted you were doing that anyway," sighs Lucas. "After all, what is the point of one going to great pains to present one's most aesthetically pleasing appearance if no-one looks? However, I trust you are requesting permission to become ... ah ... more intimate with a certain portion of my anatomy. Not the one that has been most admired, I must say but then ... any port in a storm."
Hannah gives him a doctor's dry half-grin at this little monologue.
He hesitates, and then lifts the hair revealing his mutilated ear.
Already the clear silhouette formed by the sharp card is a little distorted, as though the flesh is making a valiant effort to regrow.
(OOC - I'm guessing this - I'm not seeing it as major regrowth, but judging by the speed the bone in my mouth regrew, I think there would definitely be some slight change by now - GMs?)
(OOC - also, GM's, is there any kind of scarring at all anywhere but the ear on that area of his head? Unusual veins... she's looking for anything.)
Hannah does a visual observation before she gently runs her fingers over the injury, and then along the skull behind, up through his hair. She repeats her manual inspection of the skull with more presure, going slowly to make sure she doesn't hurt him - or if she does, she can pinpoint the pain source the first time.
She steps away and picks up her drink and sips. "I don't know anything about how you lost part of your ear. I don't know anything about the coronation masquerade, or your life being in danger, or Solace being attacked. I certainly don't find an injury to your vanity humorous - your vanity is part of your defence, and we all need a defence. I'd be better educated if you could tell me about all that, especially the part where Solace got attacked twice," she says, looking very serious.
"Very well," says Lucas. "After Random's coronation, there was a masquerade ball. I was rather fetchingly attired ... but of course, cela va sans dire ... "
He indicates two comfortable chairs where they can sit.
Hannah sits and looks at him with more than a little concern.
"At the height of the merriment - and before one of our noble guests had been discovered drowned in a champagne fountain, I believe, we were subjected to a sorcerous attack by Dara - an old flame of Corwin's, a descendant of Benedict's and the mother of Merlin - who she clearly felt was staying out far too late and getting into bad company. She shouted some threats, made some rather vainglorious boasts, I believe, managed to restrain herself just short of laughing after the fashion of "mwbwahahaha" threw a handful of metal playing cards at the assembled mass and vanished in a puff of smioke along with her cohorts - one of whom, incidentally, was here earlier, paying his respects at the funeral." He frowns - there is clearly something here that troubles him.
"Anyway, I had the misfortune to be struck by one of these playing cards, which sliced through my ear. Not, perhaps, the most lethal of injuries and yet ... " He frowns again. "The damage they inflicted on many people appeared to have been disproportionate," he says slowly. "Some died ... I myself was unconscious for one ... perhaps two days. My memory of the whole evening ... and subsequent days ... is a little hazy. The Chaosian Knight of the Ruby, Aisling - it's dead too now - was instrumental in seeing that I pulled through, I believe.
"It was a little time after that when the attacks on Solace occurred. Two ... you witnessed the second. Not sorcerous - Merlin checked her out. But we believe someone attempted to make contact with her by trumps. Solace has Amberite blood, cousin - but she's not strong. The effect of such contacts, it seems, is to weaken her ... something that became alarmingly apparent after the second attack - or attempted contact if you prefer. To tell the truth, there's no evidence that there was malicious intent behind it per se. Nevertheless, it increases my already heightened sense of vulnerability as regards my children.
"The most recent attack, however, was for me the deciding factor."
"Let's start with Solace. You think her fainting spells and the headaches that follow are really injuries being caused by someone trying to contact her by trump, based on Merlin ruling out sorcery. And someone might think they can do that because Solace is part of the family, or someone may be doing it on purpose. Has anyone else in the family ever spoken of experiencing anything like that? What evidence do you have that Solace is part of the family? Brita can tell by smell, you know." Hannah smiles at that.
"And she did," says Lucas. "Solace bears the faint but pungent whiff of an Amberite in Brita's estimable nostrils. And, mercifully, her mother has escaped the strain - have you met my estimable belle mere Lady Vesper, or does that unparalleled joy still lie entincingly before you? Most of our cousins flee in terror at her very footfall - Vere, however, takes great delight in cultivating her. I am thinking of giving her to him as a wedding present."
"I have not met your mother-in-law, but I look forward to the challenge," Hannah claims.
Lucas blinks.
Hannah smiles confidently.
His face grows more serious again. "Brita also told me - the night of the children's concert - that she believed Solace's illness was the result of a trump contact. Her father suffered a similar attack - he too has Amberite blood, but distantly. Some rumours suggest that Solace's father was not Lord Vesper but Eric - my suspicion is that the link may be further back in the Vesper family than that."
Hannah nods. "Well, this certainly opens up whole new lines of speculation. What does Solace have to say about all this?"
"To be honest," says Lucas, "we did not have time to speak of it much. I have endeavoured to protect her from anything that might unsettle her - within limits. She is desperately upset by the thought that her beloved father Lord Vesper might not, in truth, be her father. Evidence that tends to support this, I have kept from her while her state of health is so precarious. Honesty, I have long held, might be the best policy - but discretion runs it a close second."
Hannah presses her lips together. "I believe you care about your wife Lucas, I really do, but she might not thank you for holding information back from her that would change her decision making any more than you might appreciate her keeping things from you that might change yours. Well, Solace might thank you, but she wouldn't mean it. I'm not saying you can't present things in the least upsetting way. Solace doesn't strike me as having a fragile mind, Lucas. Solace strikes me as someone who feels like she should act that way."
"It must be wonderful to be a medical person," says Lucas admiringly. "To be able to see so deeply into people's souls by a few simple examinations of their physical ailments. I feel I have so missed out on understanding my wife and her needs by merely living with her here in Amber and sharing with her the trivial experience of bringing two children into the world together. Whereas if I had talked to her for a couple of half hour appointments, I would have come to a far deeper understanding not only of her physiology but also of her psychology.
"Although I would remark that it is not any especial indication of fragility of mind to be upset if your graceless husband shares with you his remote suspicion that your beloved Papa might not have supplied the loins which gave you life.
"And do you really believe that the doubtful knowledge of her Amberite descent would have dissuaded her from her decision to be with our children come what may?"
He smiles at her. "Have another drink," he urges.
Hannah shakes her head. "I'm sure it sounds very condescending for me to tell you what you already know. Getting upset is unlikely to kill your wife, in my professional opinion. And you don't really believe her father is not her father, you already said so. What a loop this family would be thrown through if Eric was her father, though, and Solace so weakened."
"Thanks," says Lucas shortly. "That's another good reason in getting Solace out of Amber and Xanadu - before the assembled Family can start playing their favourite round game of Speculation. Her mental fragility may be deceptive to outsiders ... but her modesty is, I can assure you, quite genuine. It gains an added piquancy from its close proximity to my overwheening vanity - which you've already been so kind as to remark upon. And while it might not kill her, it would distress her greatly to have her origins up for common gossip."
"I wasn't actually suggesting hanging out an announcement. I just find the assumptions that surround this family... thick. Very thick. You can be upset with me all you like, but if she's receiving trump calls that are harming her, she deserves to know that, so she can make decisions like how she might like to seek help. I don't think anything would keep her from the children, Lucas. That wasn't what I meant," Hannah explains.
"To be honest," says Lucas, "I don't think her knowing my belief as to the cause of her attacks will help to defend her against them. And therefore the knowledge of what they probably were would not be of benefit to her. On the other hand, my mother knows she has been attacked, and Maman is shrewd enough to have put this particular jigsaw together. She'll watch out for more attacks."
He sighs faintly. "And I thought it was more likely that any trump attack would be directed against my humble self. Well, that's overwheening vanity for you."
"And you wish it had been. Why couldn't magic block the attacks?" Hannah asks. It's an open question - more of a desire to understand than a suggestion.
"I don't understand the theory that underlies either trumps or magic," says Lucas. "At least, not well. You'd need to discuss that with one of the experts ... I'd recommend Paige for trumps, Merlin for magic.
"For the last few years, trumps have been rather moot - they didn't work after the Sundering. Doubtless those volumes should have been my constant study - but there was an awful lot of rather more practical matters to concentrate on - like feeding people.
"After the Sundering, those of us with Pattern tended to use it as best we could ... there was never any question of Solace walking the Pattern when it was in existence, and now we have Patterns again, she lacks the strength to survive."
Hannah nods at that.
"As far as I can discern, all three arts are linked ... like forms of communication. Many Shadows have different languages, all used for Communication. Was yours like that? Frequently not just spoken languages - languages that can be made up of gestures - or written symbols on paper that bear no intrinsic relationship to the sounds they shape. Yet all serve the same purpose and, of course, all ultimately derive from Thari. It may be that trump, pattern and the different branches of magic operate in much the same way. Could magic block a trump? I suspect not. I have Pattern, but I still have less fondness that I used to in my heedless youth for mirrors. Do you have any idea of how difficult it is to tie a decent cravat without the use of a looking glass?"
Hannah just looks at him for a long moment before taking a drink of her juice. "I didn't see myself in a mirror until I went to finishing school," she finally says dryly.
"No-one," says Lucas, with studied gallantry, "would ever guess."
"My 'Shadow' has thousands of languages, written, spoken, gestured and otherwise. So, Solace and the children are with your mother, your mother understands Solace has been attacked, and your servants are with them as well? Is there anything I can do for you?" Hannah asks, hoping she won't regret it.
Lucas' eyebrows arch. "How very generous," he murmurs. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I rather think there is."
He rises to his feet. "Come with me," he says.
He leads her through the rooms oh his suite to his study. Here, a map is spread out on the table. When she look at it, she will see it is a simply drawn but accurate map of the town of Xanadu at the foot of the mountain.
"This," he says, indicating a slight promontory, "is where I am intending to build my new home. I shall have people in place, supervising it construction and so forth, but it may be that I will be busy, travelling between Amber and Xanadu and possibly further afield. Once things are more settled and the house is completed, I will be able to bring Solace and the children to Xanadu. At least, such is my intention.
"It would be of great assistance to me if someone in the family was prepared to make sure that what I shall be bringing my own small family to will be a healthy and secure environment."
Hannah just looks at him with amused incredulation. "You want me to secure Xanadu?" She starts laughing. "Of course, of course I will. I think security is actually the King's job though, and he wouldn't want me stepping on his toes. But using my post of Minister of Health, I'll make sure all the ditches get dug, that we have a community education program so people know the proper steps to take not to spread disease, and that we get a team of medical professionals lined up to make sure everyone has someone they can go to for help. It's going to be awhile before it's up to 'modern city' standards for drainage and water use though, I hope you understand." Hannah explains, holding her laughter in now.
"Thank you," says Lucas. "Don't feel you have to worry about national security on our behalf. I was actually thinking more in terms of ensuring that the drains - when they get built - didn't stop forty feet short of the building and that no-one zoned a bordello across the road. I might find it wonderfully convenient, but Solace wouldn't like it."
"Really? I'm sure Solace would just pretend it wasn't there. None the less, I somehow doubt a whore house could afford the property, if all the family is rushing down to make first claim. Or is it finders keepers? This could get very interesting for Random - how do you deal with property in a place where there is no owner? Well, the king owns it all, I suppose, doesn't he? Have you paid the King? Does he know you're doing this? Are there people there already?" Hannah smiles, just full of questions.
Lucas interweaves answers between the hailstorm of questions.
"Yes, she and I would both know it was there, whatever she pretended, and it would make her unhappy. I don't know - but probably, if it's within reason. More family settling in the town will encourage trade and economic growth. Random is indeed the owner - we will, I imagine, hold in fief from him. The payment he will exact is traditionally in terms of service. No, not yet - although Martin's apprised of my intention. No-one there yet but there will be shortly."
He smiles as he begins to roll up the map. "And doubtless my people in Xanadu - when they arrive - will be on hand to answer your questions."
"Well, good," Hannah smiles, "because I'd hate to not have answers. It was educational having this little chat with you, Lucas. Drop me a note when you get to Xanadu and if I'm in town we'll sit down for another."
"Most certainly," agrees Lucas.
Last modified: 30 October 2005