Celina is quite happy to chat court talk with Conner, ask after his family, and generally pass time until they are at the arrangements Conner has spoken of.
Conner is also content to keep the conversation light as they travel through the many stone archs that line the streets of Gateway. Conner plays tour guide and points out the various buildings of interest like the Collegia Arcanum. Soon enough they are in a small private room that Conner used as a study during his time here. Salvers of various salted and pickled fish lie alongside toasted bread and a large platter covered with omlettes of various fillings. Once the drinks are poured and the food gathered, Conner looks acroos the table at his guests. "So you are here for the waters, are you?" Conner smiles. "Anything I can help you fish out of it?"
Celina laughs. She moves to the food and starts to select. "You measured that tide well."
Merlin fills his plate until it groans--there's no doubt he's his father's son--and looks at his sister silently, letting her field the Question.
Celina moves to chair with a slightly less full version of a plate than her brother. She sits and digs forkfuls of fish before trying to answer Conner's question. "Yes, the waters." She stops the fork and studies its three tines.
She looks at Conner. "I have no call to pull you from official business for the King. There is something in the waters of the Gateway that I will find. Something valuable: a signet if you will. It is part of a journey to find my place in the World. I can't ask anyone else to help me with it, but I can take help if it is offered." She tosses a loving glance at Merlin.
Celina's face carries a deeper emotion when she looks back to Conner. "But then, I think you have no reason to seek beneath the waves unless you expect to stop your attacker. I don't know the answer to that. Perhaps a Gatewegian?"
"Well my official duties for the King were over the moment I established this embassy, Now its Lord Jewel's duty for the King. At some point I do need to bring back egss and milk though." Conner chuckles. "Sorry, inside joke." He waves it away. "As for seeking things under the waves, I have it on good authority that Thalia is somewhere breathing water or was some time ago. I would be lying if I said I wasn't considering trying to seek her out.
"Celina," Conner takes a sip of fruit juice. "I find it a good practice to let someone in the family know at least some of the details when you plan a journey such as you describe. It helps when enough time has passed that someone is sent to seek you out. I would be pleased to at least be that for you if you are so inclined."
"You have been quite the friend," Celina says. She looks as if she might reach to touch his arm but her hand stops and settles again by her leg. "I know the details I just gave you were more than I wanted to say to anyone. It wouldn't surprise me at all if a man of your experience can infer much of the rest." She stops and looks at him closely. "Unless you were actually trying to get details for a reason of your own more than family."
Suddenly she puts her plate aside. "For really, I don't expect to be sought out. There are very important issues to be settled at the center. Myth pales, the eternal becomes mundane, and family blood has been spilled." She lifts a hand out in front of her, between she and Conner, and it floats for a moment as if dancing or in water. "What is this flesh by comparison to all that? No, Conner. I need not the favor of my body--", she waves that thought away, "or whatever being sought by kin. The ocean has always been my rest. I'll sleep there when my story is done." With a regretful frown, she lifts a fork and pokes it at her unfinished mound of food.
Conner says nothing for a moment. "You are right. I don't ask out of a belief in family traditions. I ask because I am worried about the course you have chosen and I ask because I am trying to determine if I should throw in my lot with yours." Conner admits. "You did detour your own journey to save my life. Seems the least I can do is offer to do the same."
A false smile plays at her mouth but doesn't quite come into focus. "I was foolish. The secrecy of my journey should have taken priority. Wouldn't you say? The ambassador and extra men were near and you could have handled the watermorphs. Please don't use my bad example as cause for your own destiny to... detour. That would make small sense and might reflect badly on my brother, who has insisted on coming along." She tilts her head to check Merlin.
"Father has been known to say the same sort of thing, usually just before doing something foolish like rescuing someone," Merlin tells Conner in a tone that suggests he finds it not foolish at all. As Celina continues, he takes a bite of his dinner, which he's inhaling at a rate that demonstrates his paternal heritage.
"Which reminds me," Celina shakes back her hair. "You should warn your Uncle Bleys that he is being sought for vengeance by one of his brothers: a brother with explosive artillery and an army who is seeking a path to Amber. It would seem better coming from you."
Not pausing so much as pacing her words in a dance, Celina goes on. "I did not lie to him. I did my best to make him think that Oberon was king; that things in Amber were much as ever in order to slow him with caution and give Bleys some advantage. I hope that buys some thanks from the redheads. Huon of the Horn is quite upset with Bleys." She jabs a fork at the food again, this time popping a slice of fish past her white teeth.
Merlin says, "Someone scried on us while we were there. Bleys may already be apprised, but it cannot hurt to tell him again."
Celina nods in agreement around another forkful of food.
"I have only heard of this Huon in passing myself, but I do know that the family is aware of his existence." Conner explains. "Our newest cousin Meg hails from a shadow that this Huon recently invaded. Ossian, Ambrose, Brita and Meg were travelling there to see what the lay of the land was. So what did you make of Huon of the Horn?" Conner asks. "Should Amber be worried or just Bleys?"
"Celina parleyed with him," Merlin says. "Her observations will be more to the point than mine, but I will supplement them if you like."
"If I were in Amber I'd be worried. His greivance is with Oberon and Bleys. How that might transmute once he realizes that Oberon is gone and Bleys is part of a new kingdom? Well, that I don't know. I would say that his anger has a focus right now. Take away the focus and he might decide he's angry with me instead for not telling him." Celina looks at Conner. "I think I'd be personally concerned that a weakened kingdom in his path is very vulnerable. I left him with the assumption it was a strong kingdom. He may apply too much force to get what he wants. You see?"
"I see." Conner muses. "Well his anger is easily explained and the threat he poses is considerable. King Oberon gave Bleys the Patternblade Werewindle with the charge of defending Amber's Pattern from Huon. If that is still his aim, he shall be quite frustrated."
She nods to Conner's response. "Who is Meg? How large is this family?"
"Larger than anyone imagines." Conner chuckles. "I am afraid I have told you all I know about Meg. Ossian went out into shadow seeking something and returned with Meg claiming she was of our Blood." Conner shrugs. "Out of concern for her homeland she wished an immediate return and out of concern of Huon they agreed to go. I was in the middle of my own departure palns at the time and so did not get much in the way of detail."
"Abford though, you said?" Celina considers her stay in Abford. She eats another forkful of fish. Chews silently. "I don't know enough. They'll probably run into him and with the bits I told him, he'll worm facts from them. He may know everything by the time he gets near Amber. I didn't account for him running into other...young family."
"What should we do?" Merlin asks Celina and Conner.
"If Ossian could be warned, then I suppose that might help. But it sounds as if others already know about Huon's hostility. I can't say my opinion matter much in this." She looks at Conner. "Do you have Family Trumps? I think telling Llewella about this approaching army might make sense."
Conner shakes his head no. "I have a trump only of my sister." He explains. "I was thinking of contacting her anyway now that it seems the Abford group should be warned. I can see if she would pass a message through others to Llewella. Too many messengers for comfort I would suspect. Could we send a message through sorcerous means?" Conner looks to Celina then Merlin. "It is not like we have a lack of talent or power at this table." He grins.
"You flatterer." Celina thinks a moment. "I dislike using magic thrown across the shadows as I think it can diffuse a bit as it travels. Who knows who else will get the message or read it?" She nods at Merlin. "And frankly, Conner, we could more easily reach Llewella through my father but I don't want too many authority figures to know where I am. I don't know if I have the coral to ignore an order by the King of Paris to 'stand down'. My plans don't have approval."
"Well should I find the opportunity to pass along your concerns to Aunt Llewella I shall do so." Conner replied. "Though I think that unlikely as I too plan to head out into shadow on a mission sanctioned by nothing but my own curiosity. Bleys fed me some crumbs of information concerning Pattern Blades and I plan to follow the trail into the maze. Perhaps I'll find a piece of cheese."
Celina scrunches her nose examining the analogy of mazes, blades and cheese.
Merlin shudders. "Be careful of sorcery around them. I used Grayswandir as a prop during the coronation, when nothing else was to hand. I will never so use her again." Changing the subject slightly, he says, "Of our cousins, I have trumps of Martin, Paige, Ossian, and Jerod. That last will end in the trump booth. Any of them are at your disposal, Conner."
Celina considers Merlin's list but answers Connor. "And thanks for your offer, Connor. Hopefully it will not be needful." She looks at the plate of food. "It sounds as if you have more of a path before you than you let on when you volunteered to join my travels. I'm not sure I know what a Pattern Blade is. Is it forged upon the Pattern's back?"
"I do not think so." Conner replies. "In truth I have only rudimentery knowledge about them. The only experts on the subject are dead or elusive. In my understanding, they are forged to be compatible with the Pattern they are tuned to. They act on the same wavelength, they harmonize with each other and the end result is a Pattern somehow stronger than one without a blade and a blade that can impose the same kind of order as the Pattern does. Thus against disordered beings it is extremely potent. Disordered beings such as Dragons for example." Conner states and then pauses.
Celina appears riveted to Conner's explanation. Her food is forgotten.
Merlin nods. "Our Father's blade interacted--interestingly--with Sorcery."
"Corwin and Bleys are too focused upon their own interests to bring their blades to bear." Conner sighs briefly. "So I am investigating whether new Blades can be forged and what the price will be for such a service."
The Seaward cousin moves her plate from her lap. She wipes her fingers with the linen hand towel. "A properly legendary investigation. Yes, you should call your sister and warn her of Huon. I had no idea that the Dragon might ally with Huon to get advantage on Bleys. I didn't warn Huon about the Dragon at all. If he didn't realize what he was dealing with, he might overstep himself and crush family." She looks at Conner. "I don't want that laid at my feet for my cleverness." She lifts her chin. "Given, of course, my assumption that Huon will look for advantage over a Blade and the Dragon will see Huon approaching Amber and also want advantage over Bleys."
"The Dragon seems more focused on Julian actually." Conner replies. "Or Arden at least. To be honest, my interest in the Dragon is more personal. It threatens Paige's children. Thus I look to threaten it. It also ties in to our concerns with Sons of the Dragon though I know not if that which threatens the parent threatens the child." Conner shrugs. "It is all a black box I hope to shed some light on."
Merlin looks at Celina, starts to say something, and in a gesture familiar to Conner, but not belonging to the younger man at all, seems to decide against and fall silent. After a moment, he asks, "If my father's blade is tuned to the Pattern in the sky, to what is Bleys' blade tuned? And what other blades do we know of, Conner?"
Celina regards Conner as if he holds the keys to everything. Her emerald gaze is both hot and cold.
"Werewindle is tuned to the Pattern of Amber." Conner replies. "Apparently the maths could not say precisely if Werewindle could survive the destruction of its Pattern or for that matter, the one bound to Werewindle. Bleys is pleased to have the probabilities fall in his favor. His survival apparently solves some of the equations modeling the Universe and makes others murky.
"But the real question you ask with your eyes, Celina, is if there is a blade tied to the Pattern of Rebma." Conner states and eloquently answers with a shrug of his shoulders. "If there is one known Bleys did not speak of it. However," Conner pauses to take a sip of juice, "I have a feeling that you are about to tell me that this 'signet ring' you are seeking is a sword."
Conner seemingly pricks a held volcano of emotion with his declaration. Celina shivers as if a cold water had passed over her. She reaches up and puts a hand over her eyes as if a headache were suddenly revealed. Her voice is slower and laden with complex undercurrents. "I wasn't sure but now I am. Yes, there is a green blade that I seem drawn to. I'm very close now. I think others are seeking it as well."
She wipes at her eyes where tears are spilling now. Her face is flushed. "Well done," she whispers to Conner with admiration.
"I only listened to what you did not know you were saying." Conner murmurs modestly. He reaches into a breast pocket and pulls out a hankerchief. "Here." He offers kindly. Without the sea to cool her cheeks and wash away the tears, Conner knows how exposed she must feel. He gives Celina a few moments to compose herself before he speaks again.
Celina dabs at her eyes. The tension about her mouth is the only indication that she regrets the sea is not there to conceal her emotions.
"I do not know if this is coincidence or synchronicity, Celina. If this is a Pattern Blade you seek then there is more you must know. These blades are bound to their wielders. If the wielder of the Rebman blade still lives then finding the blade with cause her discovery also. To be attuned to the blade requires the master of the Pattern it is attuned to. That too is an unknown though I suspect we speak of Moins."
Celina's eyes spark with interest. "You suggest that Moins is yet alive because the Pattern of Rebma is still potent? So Amber's Pattern died because Oberon was lost to us?"
"That is an interpretation I had not considered." Conner muses. "Yes, the data would point equally well in both directions. The flip side of the coin being that with Moins dead the Pattern of Rebma cannot remain stable and Rebma has been dying slowly for years." Conner closes his eyes halfway and muses for a moment. If his hand held a pen, there would be equations on the tablecloth. "Regardless, the creators of the Pattern do not wield these these blades. They are given to others. I meant to warn that the Blade may yet have a wielder and that even if it does not, you may have to find a way to bind yourself to it before it would be of use."
"I see that," Celina nods once. "But you have given me a sight I did not see, cousin and I thank you. These Patterns are living domains. Someone, if not Moins, is the rightful ruler of Rebma and living. It is not Moire. Moire must command now based on the older instructions of Moins for her daughters to be obeyed by the palace tritons. That is the flaw in the compact." Celina shrugs. "Beside this fact, the Emerald Blade is a lesser illumination."
"What about our father's Pattern?" Merlin asks Conner, his young face suddenly lined with worry. His hand steals out to his sister, taking hers and squeezing it.
Celina returns that squeeze and looks fondly into Merlin's eyes. "I think Conner implies that there is yet no defender blade for Paris. Perhaps it shall never need one, given the greater military experience our father has."
"Amber had Oberon and Benedict to protect it and yet the Pattern blades were seen as necessary." Conner points out. "But I can say with some confidence that there is no Pattern blade for Paris or Xanadu because the Smith that forged them has not been seen in many years and is in fact thought to be dead. Trying to find him is the first item on my agenda.
"However, I think Merlin might be more concerned at the thought that your Father's life is tied to that of his Pattern." Conner ventures. "That I believe to be a truth. Let us hope both new Kings ward their Patterns well."
"Conner," Celina turns to the redhead but does not release Merlin's hand, "you've made several points that demonstrate we do well sharing our knowledge. And you know my purposes. We should consider whether we can merge our agendas. I might find you more of this Blade Legend you seek. I may find a young queen, a forgotten daughter of Moins. I may find a Blade Guardian or a Smith. Rebma might be ill but it isn't dying. I could prove this if I walk the Pattern of Paris, because then I'll be able to compare the strengths of the two Patterns." She smiles. "I'd rather not have to do that. Having seen several people walk the Paris Pattern, I can say that it looked much like what I went through in Rebma. For now, that should suffice to say that Rebma's Pattern still has its anchor to the living."
The Seaward woman leans marginally closer to Conner. "Join us in our exploration. We may find your love beneath the waves of Gateway. If not, I'll certainly help you find her later."
Conner only hesitates a moment. After all, he was willing to help based on a vague notion of a shared enemy. Now that mysteries both historical and metaphysical have been added, how could a redhead refuse? "Very well." Conner smiles genuinely. "I am with you."
Celina's smile surfaces with delight.
"We are pleased to have you," Merlin says. After a moment, he adds, "I have walked the Paris Pattern. It needs protection, I believe. When I walked it, Father had to defend me. Someone wearing the form of Benedict tried to force me from the path as I walked. It was not Benedict, though, because he had both arms."
Tilting her head to consider this thought from Merlin, Celina nods.
Turning to Conner, he adds, "Paige believed that this might be a metaphysical representation of the internal struggle between my Ordered and Disordered natures. I am certain in my own mind that what I saw was real."
"And Random has guided or watched each Pattern walk in Xanadu, I think," Celina notes, "adding to your theory that young Patterns include dangerous real conflicts beyond the fierce living struggle of the path's focus."
Conner remembers back to a half conversation he once saw in his mirror and the pieces click nicely into place. "Agreed." He concurs with Celina then turns to Merlin. "Have you spoke to your Father of this Merlin? Surely he corroborated this attack was a real thing."
Merlin bows his head. His hand is small and still within Celina's. "I have not had the chance. We have not had much time alone and what little we have had, I did not wish to spoil with such considerations."
Celina's thumb works against Merlin's quiet hand. Her thumb massages a dance that might pass some warm sympathetic energy to her brother. "I know it was real, whether of flesh or some other matter more rare."
"Well if it was a physical happening then he is already forewarned." Conner offers. "It is ever the family practice to mix serious matters with joyous reunion though. To be invovled in another's plans is a way to show you care." Conner advises.
The expressive features of the Seaward cousin reflect a passing behemoth of thought beneath the surface. With his head bowed, Merlin may miss that she has made some decision. "Merlin, before we go further, I think that you need to call Father and tell him about your concerns. He will believe you and it may guard his back against what may be some extraordinary ploy against Paris."
"But--" Merlin stops and chews his lip a little. "I am not sure this is a good idea. What if he asks me what you are doing now?" he says to Celina.
"Yes, you can't very well warn him about incredible events while hiding me from direct questions, can you?" Celina says quietly. "On the other hand, I could at least give him the chance to yell at me if he wishes to. That way he can say he had nothing to do with the ...results I might achieve. I feel that's a fair trade. And we are so close I don't think he can stop me."
Celina looks away from Merlin at Conner. "We shall protect Conner from obvious involvement while we may though, don't you think?" She nods at the redhead.
Conner chuckles. "I thank you for the thought, but I was actually going to suggest the reverse scenario. Let me be your shield. If I frame the call as concerns of mine after the pair of you passed through with disturbing conversation we might gain information without opening you to intervention." Conner explains. "Of course, this assumes that he would talk to me of these things."
Celina looks at Merlin and something about her eyes shows that she doubts Corwin would talk to Conner regarding Merlin's concerns. And perhaps Merlin knows the Father better.
"I should talk to him," Merlin says, but it's clear to both Conner and Celina that he'd rather do anything else.
"And we'll be ready to move along quickly," agrees Celina. "Would you like me to... stand with you in the Trump call?"
"Either way, I think I shall leave you to make your call, and attempt one of my own." Conner offers as he rises from the table. "I am curious how my sister is getting along with Abford and the Horned One. Courage Merlin." He gives the man a reassuring smile and then departs to an adjoining room.
Conner turns away and starts to make contact with Brita. Merlin rises himself and goes to the other side of the little room, politely giving the host privacy to contact his sister.
After a moment, he says, "Celina, someone is attempting to contact me by trump. Should I accept it?"
[If she agrees, he'll take the call. Celina has the option of him including her if she wishes.]
She starts a bit, then her eyes narrow in concentration. "I don't like that. It could be anyone in the family and possibly others. The Gatewegians seem to know most of Amber's secrets and we are on their doorstep." She rubs her lower lip with a fingertip. "I'd make the call to Father now. Wouldn't that sidestep answering this unknown call to you? If there is still a call to you later we can decide again." She looks up at Merlin.
"I will have to block the call before I can do that." Merlin's face screws up in concentration for a minute or so. Then he says, "It is done," and relaxes.
After a moment, he takes out his card of Corwin and takes Celina's hand. Focusing on the card, he says, "Father? It is Merlin and Celina."
The image of Corwin resolves to him in his study in Paris. "Merlin. Celina. How are you?"
"There are concerns and warnings we would like to share, if you have time," Celina speaks for the first time to her father as if to a king. Her hand squeezes warmly to Merlin's. "Merlin has information we think you need."
"What information is that?" Corwin asks, his focus on Merlin. His will is strong; Celina can feel it in the trump connection.
"It is about--when I walked the Pattern of Paris--" Merlin says, and falters.
Corwin waits for him to continue, but he doesn't, not immediately.
Celina is bridged between two fascinating axes. She would watch Merlin's face and support her brother's statements, but then she would not be able to map Corwin's reactions. So she squeezes Merlin's hand and thinks very sisterly thoughts of good will and 'there will be nothing but good of this'.
She also studies Corwin's reactions, trying to see something more there than the miscues that the King of Paris has so often delivered to her when she is talking to him.
It takes Merlin another ten or fifteen seconds to screw his courage to the sticking place and say the next few words. "I was attacked by someone wearing Benedict's face. I remember this. And you defended me. I remember this also."
"This Benedict had arms that were both whole," Celina adds. "It is our thanks for the defense you gave, as well as our warning that the Pattern of Paris is open to such intrusions that we thought to share." Celina matches her gaze to her father's. "I think Merlin would like your blessing and an opinion of what he experienced. My own walk had nothing like it."
Corwin looks troubled. His eyes meet Celina's in the connection for a moment. "Merlin has my blessing, always. But I'm not sure I know what else to offer him."
He turns his attention back to Merlin. "I don't recall such a thing happening, Merlin. I'm sorry."
Merlin looks like he might if Corwin had slapped him.
Celina's normally richly-hued face pales a bit. She stands a bit taller, as if her ribs had been suddenly pressed into a corset not really designed for her figure. Her hand still tight with Merlin's pulls his hand up protectively to her breast, tucking it close there.
"You don't recall it," Celina's voice sounds very different, edged with cold green fire, and her words take on a precision, "but you will consider it, won't you? Perhaps we will have a chance to discuss the intangible mystery later?" She whispers then to Merlin regardless of whether Corwin hears, "I think we may be done."
Celina holds her breath and stills her posture.
Corwin starts to speak as Celina tears into him, but lets her rant herself out instead. Then he turns to Merlin, cutting her out of the conversation entirely, as it were.
Celina does not blink at the sudden turn of conversation as Corwin speaks.
"Merlin, people see things when they walk the Pattern. It's not unusual or abnormal at all. You're not crazy, if that's what you're worried about. If the Pattern is warning you to beware of Benedict, by all means follow that advice. But that doesn't mean Benedict attacked you over the Pattern, and it doesn't mean I fought him there. What happened to Martin didn't almost happen to you. Don't let his paranoia infect you, please. I would have fought to protect you if someone had tried to hurt you, but that doesn't mean someone did."
Merlin's hand is balled up in a fist against Celina's chest. After a moment, he swallows and says, "I hear you, father."
Celina's luminous eyes study the man who must be king of Paris. She doesn't seem to mind being invisible to this last exchange. There is a relaxation of her tight posture. For the moment, there is a question shadowed about her lips. It disappears as her other hand comes up to lightly gentle across the fisted knuckles and fingers of Merlin's hand tight against her. "I hear you, father," she says and shows no surprise to echo thus her brother.
She looks at Merlin then, to see if he wants to say more.
Merlin is still very small. "We will talk on this more, later, Father. I must go now." He unballs his fist enough to close the contact. Corwin barely has time to say goodbye before the connection is severed.
He turns to Celina, then, and whispers, mindful of Conner on the other side of the room, "He was lying, and he was frightened. I could tell through the trump connection. What would our father be afraid of, Celina?"
Her face does not conceal her puzzlement from her brother. She whispers to him, "I can think of too many things, though I wonder that I dare." She stays close to Merlin: chest to chest. "One: how could he not be afraid of things his Pattern does that he doesn't understand? Two: his older brother has a reputation for mystery and ruthless skill. I would be afraid of omens involving Benedict, if omen is what this is." She licks her lips still thinking. "Three: what if what you saw was future and not present? Four: I think some of the things father said were logical. Perhaps he hoped to hide something from you in that logic. Art isn't nearly always logical. Five: he wasn't lying about his blessing." She takes a breath.
It is that last thing that Merlin seizes on. "That, I will take. But we must ponder the rest and how it marches with our own purposes, Celina. What if Benedict opposes us?"
"Then I will fail," Celina responds without a blink. "And it will be a bloody and terrible thing."
"Why would he do this?" Merlin asks, clearly not liking her answer.
Celina impulsively gathers Merlin to her chest and comforts herself with hugging him for three breaths. She slides away, but not far.
"Why? Well, we haven't determined that Prince Benedict is doing anything to us. I don't know the man but through his legend. It would be energy thrown away for me to think ahead of Benedict. It might even make more sense for us to just give over that part of our future to Father's fears." Celina looks steady despite the grim topic. "Father might already be looking to our protection along those lines. He did give his blessing."
She glances back at Conner engrossed in the Trump card. Her hand pushes back her hair behind her ear and she looks at Merlin again. "Focus on what we can puzzle and manipulate. The rest will reach us when the current brings it."
Merlin frowns. The expression is familiar, oddly, but wrong on his young face. "Riddle me this, then, sister. I am of Benedict's getting, in the ancestral line, according to the reproductive customs of Order. How do we puzzle out his intention to destroy me?"
The Seaward lass digests that piece of information. She squints at her brother as her lips move through the silent chant: Benedict, Dara, Merlin?
Dare she ask if Benedict is Chaosi? Was there an older layer of Chaos associated with Benedict? Or was there another sort of grudge between Corwin and Benedict? Celina's eyes narrow for a bit. "Merlin, it seems to me that Osric and Finndo were brothers to Benedict. Yet they are dead now and you never knew them. In the current state of things, you and I work to free the Tritons. Yet the brothers of Benedict worked to bind them long ago."
She studies his eyes. "So if there are futures shown in a Patternwalk like yours, you opposed a Benedict-like threat and received aid from a Corwin-like blessing. Your walk succeeded. Without a reference in your mind for Osric and Finndo, this Benedict image may have represented our current path. Corwin's support on your walk was both the regard of the moment, the knowledge that you had his permission to be there, and the answer he just gave us: you have his blessing." She chews at her lower lip. "Perhaps children such as we are always challenging the works of our elders according to the reproductive customs of Order."
"This is certainly true. We seem to be at odds with the intention of he who spawned us," Merlin allows. "And Martin was long at odds with he who spawned him, although they are reconciled now."
He frowns. "I should speak with Reid about this. Or perhaps not. I do not know how much Reid is at odds with he who spawned him."
"Exactly," Celina nods. "And as I understand it, Reid's father is dead a long time. Reid gave me reason to think he wasn't much interested in his father's legacy in the short term. Too much other business that was too important in the current term."
"I do not see how this business is unimportant in the current term," Merlin replies.
"Nor do I," she replies softly.
He lowers his voice. "What of Conner? I will be glad of his blade at our back, but the redheads are a heady brew and he will turn this matter to his advantage. If a force of Benedict's caliber opposes us, that could be fatal."
Celina purses her lips for a moment. "I think we dance with a lot of dangerous agendas and forces. Khela. Tritons. Dragons. Murder. Destiny. Moire. The legacy of Osric and Finndo is writ through a lot of this." She laces her fingers together. "As for Conner, he really does want to clear his name. I mislike the redhead reputation, but I mislike more the idea of red-herrings tossed about to churn the waters. Conner and I should work together so we don't spill over each other's wakes."
"I trust your judgement. We shall work with him. I am used to the danger; I dwelt with Dara when I was newly spawned." Merlin shrugs. "Conner is taking a very long time. I wonder what he and his sister are discussing."
Celina turns about to look at her cousin Conner. "I assume it is gross manners to listen in?" She sounds a bit more girlish now. There is a bit of awe in her voice at the power of Trump.
"It is," Merlin says quietly. "But if we speak loudly, he will probably know we are done, and finish his conversation if he can." His tone is very matter-of-fact.
"Ah," she replies.
Last modified: 18 September 2006