Meg opens the door and peeks her head around it. She smiles at Brita. "Ah you look much more like a local. I know it's not your style but I think it will help get people to talk to you." She coming fully into the room.
Brita smiles, "'When in Rome', as Master Reid would say."
"There's lots here we don't know, and I'm sure Bleys would like more details of what Huon is preparing. Shall we work out our plans?"
Ossian nods. "Let's hope your family do not get in the way of Bleys, if we contact him. Speaking of contacting, does any of you have any means of contacting Merlin or Celina at your disposal? I could attempt a sketch of Merlin."
Brita nods as well and stands ready for planning. Her response to Ossian's question is a brief shake of her head.
Ambrose shakes his head. "Trumps are better than sorcerous contact if we don't know where he is."
"Let's work out what we need to do before we divvy up tasks," suggests Meg. She finds a chair and sits down as she enumerates. "We need to know what Huon was doing here, and any hints that offers to what he's doing now, and what his plans are. I know that the last is probably war on Bleys, but I'm sure specifics would be helpful. Talking to the jewellers is part of that."
She glances at Ossian. "We want to find any clues about Ossian's mother, and my parents."
She looks at Brita, "Ossian and I thought we should to talk to Merlin about what he and Celina know of Huon." She folds her hands in her lap, "Because I want my son back."
"We also thought we would probably have to trump Huon and talk to him, rather than trying to pursue and sneak Meg's son out." Ossian smiles a little (not at all like Conner, though. More crookedly.)
"Another thing. Will your family have any trouble from our little discussion with mother Humility at the orphanage?" he asks Meg.
Meg shrugs. "I'll smooth things out."
Brita nods thoughtfully to all of this. "We should Ask if Others have Joined Uncle Huon's Army and if Any Returned or Contacted their Families. What was the Compensation Offered for Joining the Army, or was the Joining Forced?"
Meg nods brisk agreement.
She turns to Ambrose. "We can Track a Pattern Path if Need Be, but the Trump or Trump Sketch would be Faster."
"I'm not confident of tracking him down sorcerously if he doesn't want to be tracked," Ambrose says. "Not until I have a better handle on how my spell with Huon went awry."
"Is talking to Merlin just a delay then?" Meg frowns and twists her fingers together.
Ambrose lets Ossian field that, since he's the one who wants to talk to Merlin.
"I hope to learn some things about Huon from Merlin." Ossian says "We want to know what provokes Huon and not. So we can handle the conversation with him smoothly. It would help a great deal to know what he wants."
Meg nods and frowns.
"I probably need to talk to Mother Humility again, before we can find out more to help Ossian. Brita you've got some great ideas for questions in the town."
She clicks her fingers. "Can any of you get your hands on money quickly? Large amounts might be helpful."
"Money or goods?" Ambrose asks. "I have a reserve in the treasury of Uxmal I can draw on if need be. The money will be different, but some of the goods will be exotic here in Abford."
"And if Ambrose's resources doesn't suffice we'll get it in some other way. Uxmali money might not be the best thing to pay with, though. Better to melt them in that case."
Brita has no input on the money aspect other than to ask, "Why do you Need Money?"
"I don't really," Meg says with a wave of her hand to dismiss the idea. "Except that it's always handy. I thought it was easier to get, that this Pattern thing let you wish it up, or something. Forget I mentioned it."
"It does, but large amounts could be problematic."
"Conjury," Ambrose says to Brita, nodding. In a louder voice, he continues, "I'm not good enough with the Pattern yet to attempt to conjure large amounts of money when I could obtain it sorcerously."
"How long would it take to make Trump drawing of Merlin? Days again?" she asks.
Ossian shrugs "hopefully no more than half a day, but I can't say for sure."
"Have you Attempted a Trump of One of Chaos Before, Cousin Ossian?" Brita asks. "I Found it a Difficult Task."
Meg looks worried and turns to Ossian for his response.
Ossian shakes his head, as he opens his sketchbook and starts sketching. "No. But I imagine our masters prepared us differently for that task. Brand had me do some pretty strange exercises." he smiles "If you have any suggestions I'll be very happy."
Brita thinks for a moment, glances at Ambrose and then back to Ossian and says, "Your Grandfather may have Provided the Best Insight for Unusual Trumps. My Suggestion would be to not Sketch the Surface of Merlin, but what you Know of the Inside of His Mind, His Heart, His Drive. We Always Draw the Essence for Trump, but with Chaos the Essence is Variable, Harder to Capture. What have you Heard around him? What have you Smelled around him? What have you Felt around him? What is Consistent in All?"
Ossian nods. "I have also been in Trump contact with him. Should help. Have you brought any painting materials?" he asks Brita. "If you have anything better than the stuff I brought, it would help."
Brita nods and pulls out the small travel case of paints and supplies that she had collected from Xanadu.
[I think we have exhausted the Trump discussion about here]
Ossian turns to Ambrose "Can you look backward in time? That could be a way of finding my who my mother is."
"I can try, but I don't think this is the moment, if our cousin is concerned with retrieving her son," Ambrose replies. "Particularly not when we still don't know for sure why my last spell went wrong in time."
Ossian nods. "Just asking, since we know pretty well when my mother could have been here. I would prefer other ways anyway."
He turns to Meg. "What more needs to be done here in Abford?"
"There's people I should talk to, once we've found out what we can about what Huon was doing, and looked for anything on your mother."
Meg clasps her hands together. "Ossian, you start on the trump of Merlin, but please let me know if it's not progressing as you expect it to."
Ossian nods.
"Brita, Ambrose, and I will go talk to people. There's the jewellers to find out what they were asked to make, and also what the boys were offered to join Huon. And anything about Ossian's mum.
"Yes?"
"See if you can find out how much Huon asked about old happenings. Like mine or Meg's arrival here." Ossian adds.
Meg frowns and nods.
"Do you want Brita and me to talk to Master Fawkner the jeweller?" Ambrose asks. "Or would you rather one of us went alone to do that and another to find out what the incentive to enlist was, and a third, perhaps, to the orphanage? Or do you have another plan in mind?"
"I don't mind. Splitting up might be faster. I can get my boys to make introductions to those we need to talk to. I should talk to Mother Humility, as I said some angry things to her just now."
Brita nods in agreement, "Just Direct Cousin Ambrose and I where we should Go and we will Ask these Questions."
The group in the study finishes its business. Morris takes Brita off to meet Master Fawkner and ask about the work he did for Huon, little William, Peter's boy, leads Ambrose off to find out about recruiting for Huon, and Ossian settles in with his paints in the study to work on the Trump sketch.
Meg is left alone, to speak with her family or go back to St. Trista's, as she pleases.
Meg has a quick word with Peter, to fill him in on some of her concerns
regarding Huon and what he's up to, and gives him a less edited version of
what happened to her than the one she offered up for general family
consumption. Key points include:
- royalty,
- immense trade potential, new markets and countries never heard of,
- scary dangerous people who've been at war for long enough they may have
forgotten other ways of acting,
- that nobody has yet owned up to being her parent,
- and strong warnings that everyone could be in great danger and caution is
essential around these people.
After that, she heads out into the town and makes her way towards the orphanage. As she goes she greets people she sees, but keeps moving. She also keeps an eye out for any thief sign about the place, to get an idea of who and what is active in the town.
Not much. It's like something drove them all underground.
Urk. That goes on the list.
At the orphanage, she asks to see Mother Humility.
Mother Humility makes her wait, long enough to make the point that she's in charge but not long enough to be rude. She'll let Meg start the conversation, since Meg, it seems, is the one who has something to say.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you. I was worried about my children."
Mother Humility smiles charitably. "Of course you were, Mistress Carper. And naturally so. Has your family fared well since you went away?"
"My youngest boy is away at the moment, but the others are all safe and well, thank the Goddess. And how has St Trista's fared?" she asks, pitching the question politely.
"Very well, actually. The Protector was very generous to Abford and to St. Trista's in particular. He does not serve the Goddess, more's the pity, but he respected our faith and supported our good works." The nun's smile broadens. "With his donations, we will be able to complete the additions to the orphanage once the repairs to the city walls are complete, which should be soon."
"Good," Meg smiles. "Has he offered any trade deals? He has access to riches we cannot get here."
Mother Humility makes a delicate noise. "I understand that he has, but of course, St. Trista's is not a direct party to such matters. I would think the Wool Guild would have better answers for you about that."
"Of course, and I'll see what their view is, but you've a knack for hearing about the actions of the influential. But no matter, I'll sort out that tangle somehow." Meg frowns. "From what you've said, I gather he gave St Trista money, rather than promises for the future. This is good, as he's unlikely to be able to fulfil such promises."
"That's very interesting news. Why do you believe that to be so, Mistress Carper?" Mother Humility is too polite to be incredulous, but a touch of doubt enters her tone.
"He's off to war against his father and brother. If he wins, he won't have time to fulfil promises he can only keep in person, not for decades or longer. If he loses, he'll either be dead, or won't be back in places where he can be found."
Meg sighs and folds her hands.
This seems to have gotten through to Mother Humility. "And how did you find this out?"
Meg smiles sympathetically. "I've just come back from his homeland. I saw, and even spoke to, four of his brothers and they are all royal princes with men at arms of their own, fine and glorious. And Huon has other brothers and nephews and grand-nephews as high and fierce as the rest. Master Rand is one of his grand-nephews."
"Has the Council been apprised of this? If these Princes come here looking for the Protector, Abford and Renady will need to be ready to deal with them." Mother Humility frowns.
"Don't worry, that's in hand," Meg assures her. "They know. Abford will be safe. And soon Sister Courage and Sister Prudence will come home. I know you will have been very worried about them, but when the attack came it was safest they come with me."
Startled, Mother Humility looks at Meg. "They're alive and with you? We thought them dead. We mourned them ..."
"They're safe," Meg assures. She reaches out and squeezes Mother Humility's hand. "They did not come back with us this time, as we didn't know what we'd find after Huon's attack. They can come next time, certainly."
Meg squeezes Mother Humility's hand again. "When they found themselves in a strange land and no way of knowing if their home survived, their thoughts turned to founding a chapel to worship Her, and spread Her blessing. They will be overjoyed to know that Abford is not the rubble it seemed set to become when we left."
It's clear that Mother Humility is fond of one or both of the women, because she smiles broadly at the news that they're safe. "And we will be pleased when they wish to return, or whether they spread Her blessings to a new land."
Happy that she has set up Ossian to be gratefully welcomed and receive help finding any clues to his mother when he returns the Sisters to St Trista's, she finishes up with Mother Humility, and heads back to her family.
When the group breaks up, Morris Carper takes Brita to meet Master Fawkner, one of the jewellers who worked with Protector Huon. "Master Fawkner's mother was my grandfather's sister, so he's kin by marriage, but not by blood," Morris explains. "He should be willing to help out. He's on the council with my brother Peter now."
"Young Carper, were All Offered the Opportunity to Join Protector Huon? How Many Chose to Go? Why do you think your Brother would Join?"
"A number of the younger men were," Morris says. "I think there must have been some specific things he was looking for, though. There were a few he--his army, really--turned down."
"Who was Turned Down?"
Morris names off some names, which mean nothing to Brita. On further questioning, the common factor seems to be, well, that Morris has a low opinion of the ones who weren't taken. They were lazy or shiftless or otherwise youths he wouldn't have wanted as apprentices in his mystery.
That appears to answer Brita's question and she does not continue the thread.
Morris leads her into town and to the guild-hall of the jewellers. He and Brita are ushered into a waiting area, probably one used for clients, and wait for a little while for Master Fawkner to arrive. "How do you want me to introduce you?" Morris asks.
Brita cocks her head to one side thinking. She finally says, "Mistress Brita should be Sufficient or Whatever Address is Given a Single Woman. You can also Say I am Kin to Cousin Meg."
"Do you have a surname?" he asks. He adds apologetically, "It's the form of address here."
"Ah. I have Noticed that Propensity in Many Locations. 'Van Asgard' Suffices," Brita responds.
Morris nods. "Thanks."
They wait a few minutes longer and Master Fawkner comes in. He's a chubby, self-satisfied looking fellow. The cut and quality of his clothes are a bit nicer than Morris Carper's. Morris introduces Mistress Van Asgard as a kinswoman of his mother's--a designation that confuses, then interests, Master Fawkner--and says that Mistress Van Asgard has a few questions that his mother would very much appreciate it if Master Fawkner could answer.
Brita executes a precise curtsy to the gentleman and then says in a meek voice that any that knew her would not recognize, "Master Jeweller Fawkner, it was explained to Cousin Mistress Carper that you were Instrumental in the works created for The Protector. We were wondering about the Task - what you Created for The Protector."
Master Fawkner looks to Morris. "This is highly unusual."
Morris looks back at Master Fawkner. "You'd tell us if it were some pretty bauble that you made for my mother's neck soon enough."
"We worked with other mysteries in this matter." Master Fawkner sounds a bit indignant.
Morris shrugs. "Did the Protector ask you for secrecy, then?"
Master Fawkner says, "No, but--we worked on things for his army."
Brita's tone becomes a little stronger and her eyes flash a deeper green, "A Man Attacks Your Town and you Name him The Protector, Providing him with Whatever he Asks, yet you will Not Divulge this Little Information to One of Your Own? We Ask because there is Reason to believe this same Protector may Not have the Interests of Your Future in Mind. He has Taken Your Best Young Men into Battle with a Power that will Run Over those same Young Men like the Protector Overran your Walls. And it is all for Revenge." The last is said in a softer tone with a hint of Knowledge that whispers at secrets waiting to be shared.
Master Fawkner squawks, "The Protector has been very good to us in Abford, no matter how he arrived here! He repaired what he'd damaged, he paid good money for services rendered and goods bought, and he took no one who was not willing to go!"
The squawking is starting to give Brita a headache. Except that it feels exactly like a trump contact.
[Does she accept? If so, play through and add Conner's name to the subject line.]
Brita cocks her head to one side and says, "And it is the
Victor..
"It is your Brother." Conner replies with a trademark smile. "How
fares things in Abford?" He stands in a room decorated out in generic
Amber style but not quite. To those in the know, it screams Amber
embassy.
"The Protector has no enemies in Abford to do battle against," Master
Fawkner says primly.
Morris shoots him a disgusted look.
"My...Protector Huon will be Glad to Hear You are Not his Enemy, I
am Sure." Brita's tone has become somewhat clipped and her
demeanor is no longer servile. "Still, these Baubles you have
Created for Him may not be of Aid against Those of Royal Amber.
How Disappointed will he Be, I wonder, When he Returns if it Does
Not Work?," Brita muses. "Lord Master Conner would Likely Know
Best if these 'Mysteries' you Created for Protector Huon's Army
Could Beat any of Royal Amber." She does not explain who Lord
Master Conner is as she turns and examines a small case of jewelry
to one side providing Conner with a view of the room as she
turns. He can see the small, chubby fellow now.
He's bewildered and slightly unnerved, based on his expression.
"Master Fawkner, is this your work?" She points to an elaborately
detailed bracelet in the case.
Master Fawkner comes over to the case. "All of these are mine," he says
proudly, and launches into a recitation of the materials used in each
item.
Brita listens politely. She appears to be waiting for something to
happen.
Conner is puzzled. Clearly, Brita is trying to tell him something or
to get his opinion of these items before her but he is unsure of what
that is. "What are you showing me, Brita? What are these bracelets
meant to be?" Conner knows from experience that attempting to bring
up his Third Eye while concentrating on the Trump would be difficult
if not impossible. So he looks with his eyes hoping to see what Brita
wants him to see.
"Only the Finest Work of Master Fawkner," Brita comments. She
shakes her head, "But My... Protector Huon would not want just Any
Baubles; You must have More...Powerful... Work. Did You... get to
Know... Protector... /Uncle/ Huon?" The 'Uncle' is Thought. "His
Needs? His Goals?"
"The Protector did not confide in me about such things," Master Fawkner
replies.
"Celina has met our Uncle Huon." Conner replies. "He wishes revenge
upon Bleys and upon Oberon. Celina convinced him that Amber was still
strong and Oberon still ruling in hopes of making him move slowly."
"How does one Design Something of Use in such a Pivotal Battle for
Someone one Does Not Know?" Brita is now focused directly on
Master Fawkner. "The Protector would Need Much More than Simple
Weapons to Defeat Royal Amber. What if Your Device is
Inadequate? I would Think Protector Huon would Not Appreciate the
Failure of his Lofty Goals. Lord Conner, as I Believe I
mentioned, Would be Able to Assure you If your device would Aid
Our Unc... Protector Huon. If it was Inadequate, He Could Suggest
Improvements that you could then Take to Protector Huon and Save
the Day, ensuring Town Abford's Continued Existence."
"So these are supposed to be weapons against us, are they?" Conner
peers at them curiously. "Well I cannot come there to view them. I
am needed here. Perhaps you could pass me a sample piece, hmm?"
Master Fawkner frowns. "The Protector's specifications were very exact.
We made everything according to the details he requested." A note of
panic enters his voice as he turns to Brita. "He can hardly blame us if
the weapons fail!"
Brita shakes her head sadly and her hand moves forward as if to
comfort Master Fawkner, but she pulls it back with her index
finger raised and fingers curled. "Of course it would not be Your
Fault if the Materials were...," the 'inadequate' hangs in the air
and is obvious in Brita's look. She sighs, "...They may not be
what is needed to Function Properly in Royal Amber, but Protector
Huon may not Understand the Difficulties of Matching Materials.
What Materials were Used? May I see Samples of the Materials?"
"Yes, let's see if worry is enough for this master to spill some
secrets." Conner murmurs.
"I--I don't have them," Master Fawkner whispers. He's sweating now.
Morris Carper speaks up sharply. "Who does? Which of the other masters
did you work with?"
Master Fawkner says, "Master Fuller."
Morris turns to Brita. "Smithing Guild," he explains.
Brita's frustration is clear through the Trump although her
expression is still one of concerned support. "If Master Smith
Fuller provided the Materials, What did You Provide, Master
Jeweller Fawkner? If Yours is the Design..." she shakes her head
slightly as the sentence trails off.
Conner simply remains the silent watcher here. The conversation he
wants to have Brita can't have.
"Precision w-workings," Master Fawkner stammers.
"Clockwork?" Brita asks as if she has a clue. "Ah, but such
Faultless Work as Yours, Master Fawkner," she continues, not
allowing him to respond as she glances over his work again, "could
Surely Not be At Fault. However, We would Not want Master Smith
Fuller's Work to be found Lacking Either. Perhaps You could send
someone to Ask him to Join us so we may Discern if there is any
True... Concern that might Endanger Town Abford?" The word 'Error'
is apparent in her tone. "Are there Others who should also be
Consulted? I can Wait while They are Gathered."
"Clockwork engines that would function in Amber." Conner muses. "Of
course, it is mainly academic since Amber is now malleable. Still, an
ingenous notion. I feel I shall have to leave you soon, Sister.
Perhaps it is best if you contact me or one closer to home once you
truly know more."
While Conner is talking, Master Fawkner says, "Lockworks, yes. The
mechanisms for his rye fulls."
"What is a 'rye full'? As in Something that Uses Rye?" Brita asks
with a very concerned shake of her head. [Monica has no
clue.] "That would Never Work in Royal Amber. You and Young
Carper Go Find the Others Quickly and Bring them Here to Discuss
the Situation. The Longer we Wait, the Closer Protector Huon gets
to Attempting to Use these devices. I will _Wait_ here, but I Do
Not Have Much Time to Assess your device and Get the Changes
Needed to Protector Huon."
"He means a rifle, Brita." Conner says urgently. "A very powerful
projectile weapon. It can kill men accurately at a great distance.
They should not work in Amber but Corwin managed the trick somehow.
And it seems Huon thinks he can do the same. Perhaps I will stay
after all. The more we can learn about these the better."
While Conner is speaking, Master Fawkner says, "His rye fulls." He
narrows his eyes at Brita suspiciously. "If you know so much about the
Protector, how do you not know about his arms?"
"It is the Way you Speak the name that Confused me for a moment -
if it is a 'Rifle' you have Designed for the Protector, a
Projectile Weapon, then I would Suggest Beginning the Exodus of
Town Abford Now. The Great Prince Corwin tried to Take Royal
Amber with Rifle Weapons. He had his Eyes Burned Out and was
Thrown in the Deepest Cell." Brita is not lying. She is simply
stating facts out of order. "If Protector Huon Survives....," Brita
lets the thought hang for a moment then cocks her head to ones
side.
"There is a Chance, however, to still Save Town Abford from the
Protector's Rightful Wrath. I Know of a Formula that Might Work
in Royal Amber and Ensure Success. I would Need to See Exactly
what you Have Wrought in order to Determine if the Situation can
be Salvaged."
"What we really need to see the powder they plan to use as the
propellent." Conner advises. "The mechanisms of a gun are easy to
replicate anywhere. It is finding an explosive of the proper
qualities that is critical for a working gun in Amber. Corwin found
something in shadow that worked but I know not what or where. I think
finding Huon's source could prove most important."
While Conner is talking, Master Fawkner is busy looking horrified. He
babbles something about getting Master Fuller at her, and dashes off.
Morris looks at her and says, "Is that true, what you said about
burning the Prince's eyes out?"
"His Eyes were Fine when I saw him Recently," Brita states,"but,
Yes, it Happened."
That revelation shocks Morris more than the idea that someone burned
someone else's eyes out.
"I will Need to Find out the Makings of The Powder Used to Power
these Rifles. Do you Think... We Could get Samples?" Brita asks
Morris. "My Mother would Likely Know More about Chemicals, but I
can Do what I Can in Her Place." This question is in the slant of
Brita's head and the raising of one eyebrow.
"I don't know anything about it. Maybe Master Fuller or Master Fawkner
will." Morris looks worried. "Do you really think the Protector will
come back and smash Abford if the weapons fail him?"
Brita sighs. "He is Planning to Attack Royal Amber for Something
that was Done to him Long Before I was Born. I don't know What he
will Do if he Fails. I would Hope he would Not take out his
Frustration on Town Abford, but I don't Know." Brita looks
directly into Morris's eyes. "I Will Not Let him Harm Your
Family."
Morris seems to relax a little at that. "He carries his grudges long,
though. If he blames Master Fawkner and Master Fuller, it bodes ill for
our chances. But what if he wins?"
Brita shakes her head. "He would Not be Good for Royal Amber. I Know
Not what Destruction he could Extend to places this Far if he Gains
Control." She softens her words with "He would Likely be in a Generous
Mood if he Won, Though."
"So disaster for your people may save mine? And what of my mother?"
Morris asks.
"Ah, but I did Not say that Disaster for Town Abford is Assured if he
Loses. If we can Understand what has Gone On Here, we may Avert
Disaster for All, including Your Mother, My Cousin Meg. I need to
Determine the Exact Makings of this Weapon." Brita glances out a
window as they wait and in a softer voice, "I Would Wish that we could
Follow Protector Huon - Track his Wake through Shadow, perhaps - but
that may not be Advised." She turns back to Morris, "My Cousins Merlin
and Celina were Here and Spoke with Protector Huon. We tried to
Contact them to Understand if they Knew of any Danger or of his Plans,
but we were Diverted."
"I don't remember the people you're talking about--the ones who visited
the Protector. I can't help with that. Nobody here knows much about his
plans, either. I think he kept those close to his vest." Morris is
clearly trying to help, but he doesn't seem to know that much.
"Celina and Merlin passed this way." Conner comments. "All they
told me is that he plans to march on Amber. For all that he wants
revenge on Bleys and Oberon, he was apparently polite to them and
wished them no ill. They made him believe that Amber was still strong
thinking that this might delay him in his march. That's all I know."
"That is Fine," Brita responds. "We do not Need Their Knowledge; although if
we Knew whether They or the Protector Caused the Diversion, we Might
understand More about the Threat. 'Did He detect Us or Them?' - that sort
of Question. But I don't Expect You to Know, Master Morris; it is just
Something to Think on. I will Hope that Lord Conner can Contact me Later
when I have discovered More."
"If Master Fawkner doesn't know what he was up to, I don't know who
will." Morris thinks a moment. "Maybe Mother Humility. My mother might
be able to get something out of her, or maybe not. They don't get along
very well, I think."
Conner simply nods at Brita's dismissal. "Good fortune to you,
Sister. Farewell." He passes his hand over the card and severs the
contact.
Brita is silent for a moment, a far away look in her eyes and then she
refocuses on Morris. "We will Remember to Ask Cousin Meg if we are Unable to
Learn More here."
After a time, Master Fawkner comes back with another fellow, who must
be Master Fuller. Where Fawkner is chubby and smug, Fuller is whip-thin
and Brita suspects he has a wiry strength belied by his form. He also
looks less impressed with whatever Fawkner's babbling about than
Fawkner was by Brita.
"You're Mistress von Asgard?" Fuller asks. "I'm Edward Fuller of the
Smithing Guild. Master Fawkner here says there's some problem with the
work we did for the Protector." Skepticism colors his tone.
"Yes, Master Fuller, there is the Risk that the Chemicals used to Power the
Rifles may Not Work Properly with the Mechanisms Once Protector Huon gets to
the Environs of Royal Amber. If the Combination is Faulty, Protector Huon
will be Most Displeased." Brita is straightforward with the assessment,
standing with her hands clasped behind her in her 'Ranger in Command'
stance. "I would Like to See the Design and the Obtain Samples of the
Chemicals, if Possible. Some Experimentation will Reveal if they will
Function Correctly in the Rich Air of Royal Amber."
"And your interest in the Protector's business is, Mistress von
Asgard?" Fuller looks at her skeptically.
"My Interest is the Protection of Town Abford as I am Cousin to Mistress
Carper who has Ties here," Brita nods at Morris with this statement. "My
Knowledge of the Protector's Business stems from the Fact that he is My
Uncle and His Concerns are My Concerns. His Failure would Affect Me and
Mine as well as Town Abford." She does not indicate how it would affect
her.
Brita intuits that Master Fuller, unlike Master Fawkner, didn't miss
that. "And are you sure that the Protector hasn't already made the
experiment you propose?"
"He has not Been to Royal Amber in My Lifetime and he had You make
these Rifles Here in Town Abford only Months Ago. I cannot See how he
could have Properly Tested it Here. I, on the other hand, Have been
to Royal Amber Recently. I Know the Conditions of Amber in This Time.
I can Best Gauge for The Protector if the Chemicals you used will
Function in the Amberian Air." Brita pauses, then adds, "I Cannot Wait
here Long, as I must Hurry to Catch Up with Protector Huon. I would
Hope to Either have News of Success or an Alternative to Report at the
time."
"Well, that's different, then," says Fuller. "I wish you'd shown me
your instructions from him to begin with. You would have put less of a
fright into Master Fawkner here." He claps Fawkner on the back.
"It is a Most Serious and Urgent Matter," Brita states. "If I Frightened
Master Fawkner with my Urgency, I Apologize." Brita bows slightly to Master
Fawkner. "But I have no Instructions to Show you. Protector Huon does Not
Write Down such Concerns. If I were to Fall into Enemy Hands with Such a
Note, the Protector's Plans could be in Worse Jeopardy than they are Now for
it would give the Illusion of Fallibility."
"Not even a signet?" Fuller asks, suspicions aroused again.
"The Sign of the Horn is Not Given where it is Not Needed," Brita states.
"He did, However, Mention that he Spoke with My Cousins Celina and Merlin
while Here. Lady Celina is Elegant, shorter," and she holds her hand up at
about Celina's height and then continues, "but Then Most are to Me, and her
skin is Green. Lord Merlin is...," Brita pauses and smiles slightly, "Lord
Merlin tends to dress in black, is a Gentle Man, Lean, and with an Aura
of... Newness." Brita shakes her head slightly with another smile. "Our
Family tends to Meet Up Wherever we Travel." She pushes the probabilities
slightly to make it more obvious that her features are definitely of the
family of Uncle Huon.
Apparently the shadows are lying for her, because Fuller looks a lot
less certain than he did before. "If you're taking things to the
Protector, I suppose ..."
Master Fawkner, who has been very quiet all through this discussion,
lets out a gusty sigh of relief.
Brita nods in acceptance as if the decision is finalized. She continues
manipulating the probabilities that certain of her expressions, motions, or
phrasings would remind the Masters F of her Uncle Huon. "We shall Likely be
Leaving for the Front Soon, although I must Confer with the Others in my
Party. How Quickly can the Samples and Information be Gathered?"
"What exactly do you need?" Fuller asks reluctantly. "He didn't leave
much behind--he wanted to take as much as he could with him."
"Actual Samples of the Powders and Chemicals would be Best, but IF you do
Not have them," and it is clear that Brita does not believe that the Masters
F would be foolish enough not to have kept samples of the chemicals used in
such powerful weapons after the recent attack on Shadow Abford. "the Raw
Materials and Descriptions of how they are Combined would Possibly Suffice."
"It'll take me an hour or two to obtain what you need. I'll have it
brought to you here." Fuller says.
Morris says to Fuller, "Or you can send it to Mistress Von Asgard at my
mother's home."
Brita nods with Morris's statement. "Master Carper's Suggestion is Best,"
she says to Master Fuller. "I must Return to my Companions Now."
Brita curtsies to the Masters and follows Morris back to Meg's house.
Merlin is incredibly hard to sketch, as if his essence is just not
capturable. After about a watch, Ossian decides that he has something that
will work, but he isn't sure it will work tomorrow.
He can try to use it immediately, or he can try to find Meg to use it, or
perhaps Ambrose. Or one of the other members of the household.
[What does Ossian do next?]
Ossian considers the sketch and shakes his head with a smile. He
touches the sketch lightly with his fingers, trying to initiate a
contact with Merlin.
[Answer will be in a separate thread. Hang on, because it depends on
Celina.]
[It seems the response will be "Merlin blocks your call". If Merlin
answers despite Celina telling him not to, disregard the below.]
Merlin blocks the call.
Ossian swears quietly. He is not going to try to force his way
through, though.
Is the sketch still intact?
Yes. But Ossian thinks it won't last past a second try.
Ossian gently puts the sketch in his trump case and goes in search for
Meg.
Meg has gone to the orphanage, Jenna tells him. But Ambrose has
returned from his errand. She leads Ossian to the kitchen, where
Ambrose has rolled up his sleeves and is actually helping the younger
women with chopping vegetables for stew.
He has fine hands. They remind Ossian of Ambrose's father.
Ambrose looks up from his work. "Ossian. Any luck?" He doesn't specify,
perhaps given the company.
Ossian shrugs.
"Some. The art is finished, but he does not want to talk."
Ambrose sucks in an unhappy breath and nods.
The he smiles
"Could you ladies spare Ambrose for a while? I'd like to discuss a few
things with him."
"Of course," Jenna says. Ambrose puts down the vegetables and washes up
before retreating to the study with Ossian.
"What's on your mind?" Ambrose asks once the door is closed.
"There are things I would prefer to discuss with you without anyone
else hearing." Ossian smiles. "Except for ...my father, you are the
closest of kin I have around. Brennan and I didn't get along well at
all from the beginning. Now, maybe... it might change.
"I hope to get a better start with you."
Ambrose seats himself in one of the chairs , nodding slowly. "I'd
prefer to get a better start with you than I did with Brennan, myself.
My brother--your father--isn't always the easiest man in the world to
get along with." He frowns. "The weight of Brennan's experience has
been known to shut his ears to words that don't meet his preconceived
notions. But you'll have found that out already."
Ossian nods.
"This family can be very afraid of opinions. Especially regarding your
father.
"I'm trying to find out why Brand treated me nice and taught me Trump
painting. Do you have any guesses? How did he treat you?"
Ambrose narrows his eyes, and Ossian guesses he's looking for the right
words. "My father is--was--a god. The standards of mortal men don't
apply to him, even less than they apply to you and me. He treated me
well most of the time, but I don't have any standard to compare it to.
"I know he wished I'd had a talent for his Art, but I had none."
Ambrose's face twists a little. "I was second best in his eyes in many
ways."
"Oh dear." Ossian says. "That's one reason he went looking for me,
then. And maybe Paige as well. I don't want... I hope you will not
hold it against me."
Ambrose shrugs, a little helplessly. "Not your fault," he says after a
moment.
Ossian's eyes narrow a bit
"And not yours either."
"Do you know if he had any plans for you?"
"He wanted an heir. He'd lost one, and so he sired another. Or so I was
told." Ambrose shrugs again.
Ossian nods "So he supposedly needed you as an heir. But why did he
need a Trump Artist or a sorceror? For some reason I don't believe he
wanted an heir because he expected to die?"
Ambrose shakes his head. "I don't think he planned to die or even to
give me any real power. But he wanted someone who
could--appreciate--his way of thinking, perhaps? Someone who understood
in a way that even my mother could not what he'd done, what he meant to
do. The scale of his successes when he saved the city in the sky."
Ossian nods somberly, but raises an eyebrow at the mention of 'The
city in the sky'
"He was trying to save Tir? From what?"
"He was trying to fix Tir. So it was real and whole, like the city
under the waves and Amber," Ambrose explains.
Ossian looks surprised.
"Does anyone else know about this?" he asks, and continues "Did he
tell you how he was going to fix it?"
"I don't understand the details, but I know the general shape of the
plan. He would break the universe, fix the flaw, and remake it whole.
It was what he was doing when he died." Ambrose frowns thoughtfully.
"My mother asked Brita about the city in the sky. I remember that. And
Brennan and I have talked about many things, but I'm not sure that we
put it that baldly."
Ossian's mouth twitches
"I think Random needs to know this. It might be wise not to tell him
you told me, though. The key question mow, I think is: Did Brand
manage to break the universe?"
Ambrose's answer is a helpless shrug.
"But I am forgetting myself. The next few questions should by right be
yours."
Ossian intuits that Ambrose is at something of a loss. "Tell me about
my father," he finally says. "As you saw him."
Ossian draws his trump case from a pocket.
"I'm not the most verbal in our family." he pulls the Brand Trump from
the case and hands it over to Ambrose. Brand would problably like the
picture - Ambrose will probably (and Brennan would definitely) see
that the picture is very flattering, not indicating any of Brand's
more malicious tendencies. "This is how I viewed him before I went
to Amber.
"I guess I looked up o him very much. He was the only one I had, and
he was always very kind... He freed me from the orphanage, and taught
me how to paint these. But he kept me very much in the dark about the
family. Told me he was my uncle.
"But he wanted me to learn even faster, and was a bit frustrated when
I couldn't."
This last is no surprise to Ambrose.
"But your view of him changed when you came to Amber." It's not quite a
question.
"Partly." Ossian says "I do not think he helped me out of kindness
anymore. That does not mean that kindness was absent.
"And I still think he was a very talented artist, and that his works
should be remembered. That opinion has landed me in some trouble."
Ossian adds with a shrug.
"How do you think he found me?"
"Probably by watching Brennan somehow. He did that." Ambrose sits back
in the chair and laces his fingers across his midsection. "That may be
why he took you in. A gesture toward Brennan, even if Brennan never
knew it."
Ossian still sits straight, he's not relaxing just yet.
"Hm. That's a reason that Brennan would not like at all.
"I think that is quite enough on Brand for today." Ossian continues
with smile. "Let's talk about the current situation. Do you have any
ideas of how we can find out who my mother was? Could your sorcery be
of any help?"
"We can try looking back through time to find out who left you at the
orphanage. With you present, we'd have a strong major emphasis, and
that should avoid the problem we had with the trump of Huon," Ambrose
explains. "Trumps are apparently ordered enough that they distort
Sorcery heavily. You're Ordered too, but so am I now, and I can still
cast, even if I'm having some unusual effects. It's just awkward."
"What do you need to do it?"
"My sorcerous gear, and some time to cast the spell," Ambrose explains.
"I can probably get most of what I need here, and the study can serve
as my workroom. What will you do with the information? If there's
something specific you're looking for, I can attempt to bend the spell
that way."
"How much time do you need?" Ossian asks "Abford is not a place where
you want to be seen using 'witchcraft'." he adds with a crooked smile.
"They are quite prejudiced in that regard, actually."
"How far back do I need to look?" Ambrose asks. He's already doing math
in his head. "If they're prejudiced against sorcerers, anything longer
than a watch is probably unsafe, and I'm looking at longer than that,
best guess now. And I probably will want to take the time to go back to
Uxmal for my own implements. I'll work more quickly with them and
they're best suited to my needs."
"You need to look back fortyfive years, four months and... three days.
Give or take a few day. Leap years and so." Ossian smiles "How long
will it take to go to Uxmal?"
"A few hours, maybe a bit more depending on the time dilation. Unless I
get dragged back into business there." Ambrose frowns. "I have a lot of
balls up in the air."
Ossian frowns. "That sounds dangerous. Still, it would be of great
value for me if we could find out. Could you go there tonight, so we
can do it tomorrow?
"Unless we go hunting for Huon before that, of course."
"If we don't go hunting Huon, we can go tonight," Ambrose agrees. "But
we'll have to see what Meg wants. I'm not entirely sure what she wants
from all this. Her son, but what else?"
"I'm not sure either. She's very clever, and could very well be trying
to see how far we will go to help her. She might want revenge on Huon.
"We might have to stop her from using the family as a hammer to get
her ideas through here in Abford."
"That," says Ambrose, "is what I'm afraid of."
Last modified: 18 September 2006
Back to the logs