Paige holds both of the children tight for a moment, ruffling Leif's hair and kissing Brooke's forehead. She bundles them off to the couch in the sitting room, indicating that Couth can take a seat as well.
Their mother takes a deep breath before sitting between them and taking their hands in hers. "I spoke to your grandmother, the Goddess Artemis yesterday," she begins.
"She's of the mind that your return to Arcadia could help save the realm and restore its stability." Paige stays calm and confident as she speaks so as to not spook them. "She thinks that you could fill the roles left by your father and aunt and still have the opportunity to explore your Order heritage."
There's a sharp intake of breath from Couth.
Paige gives him a look that suggests any arguements he wants to make can be done without the twins present.
Couth doesn't say anything, but Paige can tell from the look on his face that the details of this conversation will be reported to the Warden.
Paige reminds herself to explain to Couth that if her uncle was willing to make himself available he'd not need any Ranger nurse-maid to report back.
"I think it's dangerous and I'm afraid to lose you."
Brooke looks at her solemnly. "What does our grandmother want us to do to take up those roles?"
"I don't exactly understand myself," Paige admits. "It would be something I suppose we need to speak with her about." It occurs that such communication might be easier than she thought with a little time. Artemis was as much a descendant of Oberon as she herself.
"Someplace in what she told you of your godhead I thought perhaps she might've hinted. Do you know anything of it?" their mother asks.
Leif says, "There are things we could do."
He and Brooke share a look.
"We would have to do them alone," Brooke says, and it's not clear whether she's talking to Paige or just to her twin. "And she might eat us."
"Which? Your grandmother or great-grandmother?" she asks, thinking that it sounded much like phrases that Merlin might have uttered.
"What would you have to do?"
The twins look at their mother as if she's just said the dumbest thing they could imagine. Their answers tumble over each other.
"Father's Mother wouldn't eat us."
"She's not the Dragon."
"We'd turn the seasons."
Couth swallows and his eyes get big, but he doesn't say a word.
Paige nods. "What would that do for the conflict? How does it help defeat the Dragon?"
Brooke looks at Leif. "If we turned the seasons, she wouldn't eat us at all."
Paige pushes down her frustration and keeps an even expression. "But honey, what would turning the seasons mean?"
Leif says to Paige, as if quoting someone, "Spring becomes summer, the sun shines and energizes the world. Summer is the time for action, when the crops have been harvested, the roads are dry, and the days are long."
Brooke responds, "In wintertime, the year has reached its old age. It is a hard time, demanding discipline and care. Like the fish, people wait for the thaw."
Paige looks lost.
"This is what happens when the seasons turn," Brooke tells her mother.
"So, if you move Arcadia to Autumn or Winter, she'll be caught in the freeze?" Lost looking for nuances of body language they never learned, Paige is floundering in this conversation and she knows it, hating that it's going to be emphasized in Couth's report to Julian.
"We won't fight her if we become gods of Arcadia," Brooke explains.
Leif says to Brooke, "We can fight anyone we want."
"We can," Brooke agrees, "but why fight her when she'll leave us alone if we do what they want?"
"Wait. The Dragon wants you to turn the seasons, too?"
Leif looks at Paige like she's said something stupid, again. "No. But if she goes back to sleep, she'll leave us alone."
"And she's a Dragon, therefore cold blooded and hibernates in the winter?" Paige is pulling at her shorter hair, twirling a lock. She looks to Couth wondering if he's getting more than she is.
Couth is listening, but he's stone-faced and unmoving. Paige can imagine him crouched in a blind like that for hours.
"No, she will sleep in the summer too," Brooke says.
"They why isn't she sleeping now?" Paige asks.
This time it's Leif that answers. "We do not turn the seasons."
"There are days when I miss your Father," Paige admits. "I'll talk to your grandfather and see what his opinion on this is. No matter what, I'm proud of you both for showing such maturity." She gathers her children into her arms and holds them close for a long moment before sending them off to the kitchens for a snack before bed.
Turning to the Ranger once they've gone, she offers him a quizical look. "You have comments?"
"They've got a lot of their sire in 'em," Couth observes neutrally. "The Warden can make more of their words than I do."
"Do you have a good way of getting his opinion?" she asks. "I'd very much like his opinion on this before I make a decision."
"Just the cards, if'n you've got one. And he don't always answer."
"No, I don't have one to hand at the moment," she answers shaking her head. "Something I'll have to rectify in short order it seems.
"If I haven't said it Couth, thank you," Paige offers sincerely. "For watching over the kids, over me, for everthing that is and isn't what this horrible duty should be. I trust you with my children's lives, Couth. I have nothing more precious to offer." She kisses him quietly on the cheek and heads off to follow the children and get some food herself.
Hannah is up early to greet the sun. She takes her time about her morning routine, checks in on Gerard and eats. So it's a few hours after sunrise when she knocks on Folly and Martin's door.
Hannah hears faint traces of muffled conversation, and then a long pause; the door opens a few inches to reveal Folly's head and bathrobe-clad shoulders. "Hannah!" she says, cheerfully but quietly, and pulls the door fully open. "C'mon in, let me just...." She gestures vaguely into the room, inviting Hannah to make herself comfortable while Folly makes herself presentable. "Two minutes," she adds, and disappears back into the bedroom.
A small, fluffy grey cat emerges from under the desk, mewls plaintively at Hannah, and begins sniffing at her shoes, perhaps evaluating their suitability as a breakfast substitute.
Hannah sets down the folders in her arms and leans over to pet the cat. A smile lights up her face.
After a couple of minutes and the sound of more hushed conversation, Folly re-emerges, clad in jeans that are too big for her -- she has cuffed the bottoms up several inches -- and a loose top that resembles an artist's smock. "Martin got in pretty late last night, so I'm trying to let him sleep in," she explains. "He may be out a little later."
Hannah's sitting in the floor petting the cat, her folder deposited on the table next to the couch. She smiles up at Folly and nods.
There is a tray of covered dishes on the desk. Folly lifts the lid of one of the dishes and sniffs at its contents. It appears to be a plate of meats and cheeses. "Ahh, leftovers," she says, and grins as she begins assembling a sandwich. "Would you like one?"
"Sure, I could eat more." Hannah gently picks up the cat to sit down with him on the couch. "What's his name?" she asks quietly.
"That's Fathom, and Thelonious is keeping Martin company." Folly grins and hands Hannah a sandwich, followed by a small plate of shredded meat bits. Fathom shows obvious interest in both.
Hannah takes her plate and balances it on the arm of the couch, trying to keep Fathom on the other leg. "It's not for you, my little devil," she whispers to the cat, before she looks back up at Folly.
"And how are you feeling?"
"Hungry!" Folly replies with a little laugh as she assembles another sandwich for herself. "And like my clothes don't fit and my center of mass is in a weird place. Or maybe that was supposed to be smalltalk and not an actual medical inquiry?" She grins at Hannah and plops onto the couch beside her.
Hannah laughs. "Well, I'm always medically curious, but I'm friendly curious too. I've been worried about you, since... it seemed you were trying to avoid babies. Do you think you were already pregnant when we talked?" Hannah asks, and starts digging into her snack.
"Um. Yeah, that." Folly grins, a bit sheepishly. "I hadn't realized, when I talked to you before, that I'd gone and got myself accidentally blessed by a fertility god. We, um. Pretty much instantaneously." She bites her bottom lip and blushes. "It was already too late by the time I talked to you.
"But it's okay," she continues. "It's quicker than we would've planned for ourselves, but we're both very happy about it. It just feels... right." She smiles down at her belly, well-hidden in her oversized clothes, and bites into her sandwich.
Hannah smiles. "I'm just glad you're happy. That's what matters. Is this Paige's fertility god, the one who died? Or is there someone I should know about avoiding?"
"No, it was Adonis. Daeon. The one who died." Sadness flickers in Folly's eyes at that last word. "I'm not sure when I'll get to Amber next, but I want to visit his memorial. I haven't worked out yet whether to thank him or yell at him, though. Perhaps some of each." She smiles in rueful affection.
Hannah nods. "You should try to find time for that."
Fathom has climbed onto Hannah's lap and planted his front paws on her chest in an attempt to sniff at what she's chewing.
"Oh, you," Hannah laughs. She doesn't try to move him though. "Is he allowed to have any of this?" she asks.
"Some of the meat, yeah," Follys says. She's watching the interplay between cousin and cat with obvious amusement.
[Hannah] sets her food down and wrangles Fathom to try to get him to sit nicely in her lap, if he'll be mollified by petting. Hannah watches him fondly.
"I thought about getting a pet in Tyrell City, but I was hoping we weren't staying long. I didn't like it there, but we found out a lot. It served it's purpose," she admits.
Folly nods. "We passed through there, or someplace very near there, on the way back here. I didn't much care for it, either. Too... corporate-mercenary, or something." She waves her hand dismissively, almost as if swatting something away from her ear. "But you found out more about Gerard's condition?" she asks more brightly. "What did you learn?"
Hannah pulls loose some meat for Fathom, and gives it to him. "Well," she sighs. "We knew he'd been hurt really badly, and we confirmed that. His lower body has essentially been shattered. I was hoping his pelvis and sacral spine might be... formed, but they're not. They're shattered too."
Hannah reaches over to take Folly's hand. "This is outside anyone's experience, because people simply don't survive this kind of trauma. I was nervous if we stayed much longer in Tyrell City, two things would happen. First, the doctors would start asking really uncomfortable questions and demanding undesired treatments."
Folly nods, and gives Hannah a tight-lipped smile of understanding.
"And Second, that Gerard would consciously or unconsciously start shifting shadow to influence how the morphine acts on his body. We started weaning, and he had a very physical reaction at first, so we pulled back. It's going to be a slow process, but I thought it was better accomplished here."
She squeezes Folly's hand. "So that's a lot of information. What do you want to know more about?"
"This process of weaning him off the drugs," Folly says. "What can we do to help?" Hannah may get the feeling that she's starting where she feels she's on the most solid ground.
Hannah smiles. "Well, it's mostly just being around and making sure he's doing what he agreed to do with leveling down. I'm going to have to spend some time investigating magical treatments, so he'll need more company. He's very cranky, and that's completely expected. Not only does he have plenty of reason to be angry, but the withdrawl is going to be hard on him. We need to keep him engaged with the family, with some kind of work, with hobbies, even if he gets mean. He might. I would," she shrugs.
Folly nods. "I'll make time to play cards with him, and to play music for him. I'd offer to teach him a new instrument, but under the circumstances he might not have much patience for that. But we'll find something."
"Using you influence to make it easier for him to get around in the chair, especially down to the city, would be very helpful. If people are going to keep coming, they're going to need work, so that should work out." Hannah pulls back to pull off another piece of meat for Fathom.
He gobbles it up happily. He begins to purr loudly.
Folly, meanwhile, digs around in the stacks of papers on the coffee table until she finds a pen, and scrawls a note on her hand. "I should ask around whether Xanadu has attracted any architects or building inspectors yet, and start working on building codes or something."
"I hope I got a start on that before I left. Talk to... Clue. Oh, and Ever's here. I brought Ever when I came back with Clue, to try and start building a sewer system. Hopefully, they've all managed to organize themselves by now," Hannah laughs. "What's the chances?"
Folly beams and scribbles another note on her hand. "If Ever's here, they've made a good start of it, at least. I definitely need to take a trip into town. Maybe I'll take Gerard with me, for some fresh air."
She caps the pen and looks at Hannah with concern. "Are there less-addictive painkillers you could use in place of the morphine?"
Hannah nods. "He's on them. Which means as he comes off the morphine hopefully he won't be dealing with organic pain. But there are many kinds of pain, and chronic pain builds on you. So even if we have completely eliminated the pain caused by the injury, there is simply pain built up in his body and brain. When we get his body healed, there will still be work left to do. But I bet he'd deal with it all a lot better if we can get his body healed." She shrugs. "I'm going to spirit walk. See what I can find out, about magical healing here."
Folly nods, and looks like she wants to ask several things at once. Suddenly, her eyes widen. "Oh! I was talking to Paige yesterday -- she'd been out in the woods -- and she said something about finding a griffon, a dead soldier, and 'Hannah's picnic blanket'. I didn't know what she was talking about. Do you? I thought it might be important, and the spirit walking made me think of it."
Hannah looks perplexed. "That would have to mean Xanadu wasn't born until after I came to Amber... or... things are moving. Do you think that's possible? Wixer, and those things, were somewhere else. Now they're here. So either somewhere else is now here, or that piece of somewhere else is here, or... Dworkin moved Wixer and thought he should bring Fiona's blanket. It's actually hers. Where was the dead soldier from?"
"I think Paige thought he was from the same place as Adonis," Folly says. "That happens sometimes, people getting drawn to where there's a Pattern. It's like---" She draws her knees up in front of her and stretches the front of her shirt over them until it's pulled tight, then reaches underneath and pinches the fabric in a couple of places, pulling it down into little wells. "Like things just naturally moving downhill. But if the griffon Paige saw was the same one you tended -- 'Wixer', you said? -- then... I'm not sure why he'd leave the Pattern he was already near to find another one. Unless, as you say, Dworkin moved him on purpose. Or maybe Wixer came looking for you, and has been toting the blanket around because it reminded him of you." Her eyes twinkle.
Hannah really grins then. "Um, I think maybe he's looking for Fiona, if that's the case. I caused him pain and brought him berries. She brought him a hunk of meat. I think she wins. Did Paige say if he was purple? Did he have a cast?"
"She didn't say," Folly replies, "but she was distracted by... other things." Her expression grows much more serious. "Has anyone told you about how Adonis died, and why Paige would be worried about people showing up here -- in the woods -- from his homeland?"
"Yeah," Hannah sighs. "She's bound to be carrying knives, then. I wonder if Wixer killed the man. I'll have to make time to get up there and see him. Wixer's very smart, you know. If he killed someone, he probably had a reason. That's not your normal animal, there."
Folly nods. "Still, you should be careful if you head into the woods here. Just about anything might show up there, at this rate."
Hannah nods. "Maybe I'll have to get a guard," she sighs.
"So, when are you due?" Hannah asks.
"Right around midwinter," Folly says, and grins. "If I keep my butt planted in Xanadu, that is. Which I expect I mostly will. I'm trying to get myself married before then, and... it has been declared that we will have a big giant wedding." She looks like she can't quite decide whether to laugh or roll her eyes.
Hannah laughs. "See, I don't know what's worse. Among my people, it's supposed to be this process of feasting each other's families and bringing gifts, but if you really want to get married and the families are not accepting, all you really have to do is get alone out on the plains for a week or so. If you can keep each other alive, the people tend to be relieved that at least you didn't kill each other. But then, afterward, you have to start the feasting part over, and once that's done, and the parents have reconciled themselves to each other, then the tribe takes turns feasting you, and trying to see how many nights they can keep you up talking instead of being alone. It's a bit like a game, but it's really more of a teaching exercise. Or an exercise in tolerance, depending on your point of view." She shakes her head and pets the cat. "Sorry, I guess I'm missing home a bit. I think this is a lovely place to have a wedding. Are you thinking about in the... palace, here?"
"I expect it will be a big public event," Folly says, "so the ceremony itself will probably take place outdoors, with some of the feasting happening in the castle afterward. Although, really, I'd be just as happy with a big outdoor party, too. Sort of an autumn harvest thing. I mean, as long as I'm going to be unmistakably... heavy with fruit, we might as well make a theme out of it, you know?" She grins. "Celebrate the birth, growth, and prosperity of Xanadu, and all that. And I suspect the weather here will be lovely in early autumn."
Hannah nods. "Just the time everyone needs a party. I do admit that I'm hoping for a mild autumn and winter this year. Is the King going to marry you, or are you just going to make some vows... or..." she holds up her free hand and half shrugs. "I don't know how it worked in Amber."
"Well, and it might work differently here, too," Folly says. "The only wedding I attended in Amber, Gerard performed, while he was Regent. But the point of this wedding is really the spectacle more than the wedding itself: the king acknowledges that by the customs of my homeland, Martin and I are already common-law married. But I think he expects to perform the ceremony, yeah. We get to plan it, though. I suspect he'll let us get away with just about anything that's sufficiently grand and not too wacky." She hesitates and adds, "I've been thinking of asking Vialle to help with the planning." It is evident from her tone of voice that she's still undecided whether that's a good idea.
"Right. Politically you probably should. But it makes you uncomfortable because you'd probably be put in a position where you'd have to compromise on a number of things, I think. Maybe just ask for her help with a chunk - like the feast? Let me put my wise man hat on. If you involve her, at least you'll have some ability to express what you'd like to have. If you don't, you may get indirect interference, or at least hurt feelings. And I don't think it's wise to have the Queen upset at you," Hannah points out.
"That may leave me in a constant state of unwisdom, then," Folly says with an impish twinkle. "Vialle can be awfully... do you know the term 'old-school'?" She grins.
"Traditional, do you mean? I know all about the politics of tradition verses adaptation," Hannah smiles. "There's always conflict, but if you stop talking, the conflict stops being fluid and hardens."
Folly nods. "That's a good idea, though, giving her charge over part of it, especially some part that I don't care quite so much about. The castle feasting, maybe. She seems ideally suited to that. And once the feasting starts, we'll already be good-and-officially-married in the eyes of everyone, and that's really all I care about." Folly's gaze drifts toward the bedroom door, behind wich her beloved lies sleeping. She smiles. "It's kind of funny, you know? I never really thought of myself as the marrying type."
That makes Hannah chuckle. "How old are you?" she asks.
"Quite young for one of us, but practically ancient for an unmarried woman in non-royal Amber society." Folly grins. The fingers of her left hand tap against her thumb as if she's quickly counting off. "I'm maybe a year past thirty. How 'bout you?"
"Thirty two, thirty three, somewhere thereabout. But I laughed because I never imagined I would end up unmarried. I got married when I was 14. Is that the standard around Amber, in the city?" Hannah grins.
"Just a few years older than that, I think," Folly says. "At least, most of the girls I've seen paraded like livestock in front of Martin, bless their hearts, were right around that age. The ones that parade themselves, on the other hand, have been a little older." She smiles in wry amusement, tinged perhaps with relief that that particular silliness will soon be over.
Hannah looks perhaps a little sceptical that such silliness will end entirely.
"But I hadn't even realized you were married," she adds after a moment. "Did your families approve, or did you have to go the keep-each-other- alive-on-the-plains route?" She leans forward in obvious curiosity.
"Oh, our fathers were very unhappy, so yes, we not only had to sneak off and keep each other alive, but we had to keep moving in a tricky way for about a week to avoid the party hunting for us," Hannah's smile is huge. Her eyes light up. "He is two years older than me, and his father is the Chief of the Clan in our nation charged with War Consel. So, they are traditionalists. They want everything to go back to the old ways. Everything new is somehow evil. My father is the Chief of the Chiefs, by selection of the majority of Chiefs and elders - and my father is so... progressive as to be seen as radical. These two men not only did not like each other, but aggressively and sincerely felt the other was wrong and their ideas would destroy the people."
Hannah shakes her head at some memory. "At this time, my sister and I had just come back from our second year in the East at finishing school. We'd been living in a house instead of a traditional, and honestly more practical, earthean dome for two years. They called us nasty names, the traditionalists did. Kajika wanted to run away from the beginning, but I made him try it the traditional way, mostly because I was afraid of what my father might do if he didn't. You bring gifts to the girl's father. So my father, very politically savvy, accepted the gifts that are a sign that he was going to allow him to court me. And made Kajika sit there for... ever," she laughs, "and listen to his progressive ideas and why he thought they were right, and about how this was going to be a very long courtship because I was going back to school in the fall out East..."
Hannah sighs. "Anyway, we decided it wasn't going to be a long courtship as soon as we realized the kind of fences my father was going to make him jump, and how difficult his family was going to make it for him to jump them. We were both good hunters, we both knew the woods intimately. My sister helped us prepare and get a head start. It's still the best seven days of my life. But life isn't simple, and even when we were able to convince our families to accept that we were married, we were separated by school for years, and then by work, but in the end I suppose our expectations were just so far apart.
"We tried to change each other and we tried to change ourselves, and we couldn't change society and all the pressures on both of us from all directions... we tried a long time." Hannah smiles sadly. "It just didn't work. You don't know when you're fourteen how hard it will be, how much you'll both change. You don't know the questions to ask. That's what the process of feasting and gifting and spending so much time with the families before you do this is supposed to be for. Maybe, had we jumped all those fences, we would have known how hard it would really be."
Folly nods thoughtfully. She has taken in the whole tale in rapt fascination.
Hannah brightens back up. "I'd like to think I'll do better, next time. It's very strange, this transition of going from having maybe another 30 years to live, to having the possibility of... forever. It changes the way you think about things. Have you always known about your, um, royal blood?"
"No, only for a few years," Folly says. "I'm told I still think like a person that doesn't believe she's going to live forever, although I'd like to think I'm getting better at taking the long view. Instantaneous pregnancy notwithstanding." She smirks and pats her belly. "Perhaps I can chalk that up to the little one's impatience, rather than my own."
Her expression grows more serious, and she looks at Hannah. "The hard part for me hasn't been the promise of long life, though. It's this idea that we really are... somehow *more* than other people. As a die-hard egalitarian, I'm still working out what to do with that, y'know?"
"I keep trying to look at that scientifically. So, where is the evidence? There's a lot of evidence that we live longer, and that we are physically tougher, but I can't say that makes us *more*. Isn't it just an accident of birth that allows us to walk the pattern? So we can do more, but it's what you do with it. I think I can accept I have more potential than most people. My father's been drumming that into us our whole lives, but also that with it comes responsibility. So maybe I grew up with a more 'royal' point of view? What was it like where you grew up?" Hannah asks.
"We had royals," Folly replies, "but they were mostly just for show, a sentimental holdover from the old days. All the real governing was done through representative democracy. Which I'd be happy to see here, too, but... when the very fabric of reality is an extension of the will of the monarch, it can't work quite the same way. In the end, the king's will really is law. Or that's how I understand it, anyway. I'm still trying to work it all out."
She smiles at Hannah. "Are you up for a little bit of a walk? I think I'd like to take a trip into town, and I'd enjoy the company. Plus, we could get a good look at how things are progressing down there."
"I'd love that. Air, real fresh clean air. That sounds wonderful. And I need to see if I can find some clay. And better clothes for the elements," Hannah grins. She scoots Fathom onto the floor. "I've been thinking about governance here myself. It's not every day you run into a place... so impressionable. I've seen representative democracy done poorly, so I'm wary. The way you became a leader among my people was perhaps even more complicated, but it sure seems like it'd give you a better chance to cull the bad apples before they dirtied the basket."
Folly nods. "I can certainly see where benevolent despotism would have some advantages over the 'tyranny of the majority'. 'Specially if one can gently apply a boot to the arse of the despot if he seems to be going astray." She grins. "Which would be, what, representative despotism? Or perhaps 'parenting'."
Hannah stands up and offers to take Folly's plate. "But I think you're right about Random, and this place. Has he given you any indication what he's looking for? I mean, he held court and all, but that doesn't mean everything else has to just revert to the status quo ante bellum."
"I think," Folly says, handing over her plate, "that the king is open to letting his trusted underlings -- that would be us -- guide a lot of what goes on here. Just as long as none of it clashes too badly with the really important bits, like 'opportunity for everyone' and 'no-pants Freeday'." Her eyes twinkle. "Which reminds me, I should change clothes before we head down. It should only take a minute." She stands and brushes crumbs from her jeans.
Hannah grins. "I'll go throw this folder back in my room and meet you in the kitchen, yes?"
"I'll be there in just a minute." Folly returns the grin. "Well, maybe a couple of minutes."
Hannah heads off to do that, and can be found in the kitchen with a notebook under her arm.
Folly catches up with her a few minutes later. Hannah hears her before she sees her, greeting members of the kitchen staff by name and asking after their families. She has changed into a gauzy high-waisted tunic in swirly patterns of purple, and a long narrow skirt in some soft, stretchy fabric. She looks neat and presentable in an arty sort of way, and not obviously pregnant.
Hannah's in her same blue tunic with it's matching skirt that falls all the way to her feet. It's a simple and homey outfit, but it suits her.
"Have you spent much time in town?" Folly asks Hannah. "I haven't really gotten down there since I returned from my little... excursion." She leads the way at an easy pace out of the castle and into the warm summer sun.
"I didn't get much time at all, and I was thinking like an administrator the whole time I was down there. I'm looking forward to more fun this time." Hannah smiles. "Although, you know, I brought my notebook. Should have left it, but just couldn't. My sister always said I didn't know how to relax. She may have something on me, there."
Folly looks a bit sheepish and lifts the edge of her tunic to reveal a small cloth bag, just the right size and shape for a notebook of her own. "It's, ah, not just you," she says. "My excuse is that I'm meant to be planning a wedding. And obviously, how the waste system is coming along and whether we've got enough schools is vitally important to that." She grins.
"Oh, I need to see if we can find my horse while we're down here and check in on her! Oh, she may just kick me for leaving her alone so long."
"We can do that, too," Folly says, and angles in the direction of the stables. "If you think she'd like the exercise, we can ride the rest of the way into town -- although in this skirt, I've pretty much committed myself to a slow lope, sidesaddle."
"Oh, if she's just got to get out, she can walk. I don't like to be up on a horse around people walking, it's just asking for trouble," Hannah grins. "Unless they've got stables up in town too. Did they get stables built up here then? I didn't know where exactly she'd gotten off to at first. I've been trying not to worry. I knew the boys would take care of her."
Folly looks thoughtful. "Well, I thought... they would be...." They angle around an outbuilding, and she points. "...there." And indeed, there is a paddock, and a building that looks like a stable, and a couple of horses being exercised. Folly grins. "It's one of the first things Garrett was going to see to." She picks up her pace a little, anxious to check on her own horse.
"I am interested to see how far along the dock building has gotten," Hannah says. "If we're going to have people coming, we're going to need good docks."
Folly nods. "I figure we'll wander through town to the water and then back again, wherever our fancy takes us. I want to get a general sense of how many people are here, and what they're doing. Oh, and find Ever."
Hannah gives Missae a good going over to make sure she's fine. She apologizes for leaving her alone so long, and she doesn't seem at all worried anyone will think she's strange for having a one-sided conversation with her mare. She'll also thank the staff for taking care of Missae. [Or if they haven't, someone's going to have some explaining to do.]
Folly, likewise, checks on Sprite (and also has a long sing-songy one-sided conversation). She promises to check in more often, and bring apples.
The horses are in good shape and seem glad to see Hannah and Folly. They're both looking as if they're ready to ride.
Hannah's goals for the visit:
Find out how things are going for the people she put in place.
Find out what still needs work, and work with Folly and whomever to get someone dealing this those things. Like: Are there enough doctors/healers in the city to handle the average needs of this population? Are the docks stable enough to handle the marine traffic today and projected?
The city needs stonemasons and carpenters. There are makeshift docks that will do, but everyone knows that good stone quays will be needed. They're building into the cliffside and taking the stones out to use on external projects. Tool makers and repairers are doing well. There aren't many doctors, but people don't seem to be sick.
Has anyone started growning food here, and how is that working?
People fish, and grains and vegetables and meat are imports. There are lots of fish.
See if anyone's already mining clay for artists/building and get some of that for Gerard to work with or reject.
You can get some from the people carving houses out of caves.
Check on Lucas's house and see if they'll building a brothel across the street. (She hopes not, but if they are, she's going to laugh and blame Lucas's reputation anyway!)
Work on Lucas' place seems to have stopped. It may even have regressed.
Meet new people! Make friends in the city!
There are plenty. Everyone is able-bodied and working, but it's not back-breaking. There seems to be an expectation of success.
Folly seems to have an uncanny intuition about where to find things in the city. For example, when Hannah asks about clay, Folly makes a very good guess where they could find a potter. She makes an offhand comment that she thinks she used to live here in her dreams.
Folly pays close attention to the demographics of the growing city. She expects to find people of many different countries (or Shadows) of origin, but she's interested whether there is a trend toward young single people just starting out or looking for a new life, whether there are many families, whether there are many older people.
She also pays attention to whether she recognizes many Amber merchants or citizens, and if so, about what percentage of the population they seem to comprise.
Folly definitely recognizes some, but Amber itself was a larger city, so she wouldn't know them all. She guesses that Amberites aren't yet in the majority.
And how large has the population grown? Folly is really just trying to get a feel, here: are we still at Small Town (a couple of tens of thousands or less), or are we moving into Large Town (a few tens of thousands) or Small City (approaching a hundred thousand)?
A small town is "Peapack-Gladstone, population <1000.", a large town is Tyler, Texas , pop 50000. Anyplace with a Cathedral is a City. By definition.
Xanadu is a growing town, but it's only been a few months. It's only been recently that they got above 10,000 people.
And while she's paying attention to what merchants have set up shop in town, she makes a few notes about the quality and variety of goods available. Under her breath, she says to Hannah, "Well, if I've got to have a wedding, I may as well use it to spur the economy, y'know?"
The most prosperous are those who enable others to work: bootmakers, laundries, blacksmiths and the like are doing well.
Along with Hannah's inquiries into the development of the docks, Folly tries to find out what typical weekly traffic at the docks is like: how many ships in bearing how many people, and are we also sending ships out (for fishing and whatnot)?
Xanadu is a fishing city, and has some facilities for repairing ships, but she can't make her own yet. There is work afoot to correct that.
She is on the lookout for signs of technology more advanced than that of Amber.
She doesn't see any. Perhaps the smithies, but she wasn't heavily involved in them.
Folly is overjoyed to find Ever; her eyes light up when she sees him. (If Hannah has heard the rumors, she can probably see where they came from; she may even suspect that they are true.) She has a long conversation with him and Hannah about practical matters: What does he see as the major needs of the city -- particularly its working people -- that aren't yet being addressed? How can they help? And how's the music scene in town? She also has a shorter conversation with him about personal matters. She tells him about the wedding, and then whispers something else to him that is probably about the baby.
He offers to take her to the tavern to celebrate. It really only gets going at sunset, but it's a fine place. People, in Ever's opinion, work harder than they should.
Folly would love to see the tavern, although her reason for celebrating will ironically keep her from as much of the conventional form of celebration as she might otherwise have indulged in.
As they wander through town, Folly strikes up cheerful conversations with people -- some of whom she knows, and some of whom just look like they'd be interesting to know. She happily introduces Hannah around.
Folly is speaking with a seamstress who is making work clothes and lamenting the lack of pins, when Ash opens the door to the shop she's in.
"Hey, I heard you were in town!", he says.
"Lord Mayor!" Folly says, and grins. "We were just admiring your town and deciding how to meddle with it. Have you met Hannah?" Eyes twinkling, she turns to Hannah. "Hannah, this is Ash."
"Ash? Pleasure to meet you," Hannah grins. She offers her hand the hand-shaking way. "How's mayoring going?"
"The whole townbuilding is going great, but it's dull, from a mayoring perspective. I slept through the only excitement we had in months, mis--, Lady--. What do I call you?" He looks from Hannah to Folly and back.
Hannah laughs. "You can call me Hannah if I can call you Ash," she offers.
Hannah shoots a grin at Folly, then looks back at Ash. "What was the excitement?"
"Oh, someone tried to brain one of your cousins, but Soren was in town and I wasn't here, so he was all 'reasonable'. No leg-irons involved at all." Ash looks around the shop. "It can't stay this easy, long term. I keep waiting for the other boot to drop."
"Oh, I dunno," Folly says with a small smile. "This place is him, you know? And he's always been lucky. On the other hand," she adds with a shrug, "he's not the only force in the universe. But whatever else washes up here, we'll deal with it when it gets here. Even if it comes bearing firearms."
Hannah looks just a touch sceptical at this last comment from Folly. She looks back to Ash. "When times are good, you stock up for when times are bad. Y'know, that's how you get through the winters. But it sure seems like everything is moving in the right direction."
Ash looks nonplussed. "... and that's so like his plans. Sorta like paying dues in the best band nobody ever heard of. We get a critical pass until we reach critical mass. It's like the shoe boot getting bigger and bigger."
"What, so you think that the longer things are good, the worse the bad will be when it finally gets here?" Folly frowns thoughtfully. "I'm told it's not that kind of zero-sum game, but then I haven't seen the maths. What do you think we should do in the meantime? Make our own bad?" She's teasing, but only a little bit. More seriously, she adds, "Or are you concerned about something specific?"
Hannah looks between the two of them, and her gaze stops quizzically on Ash.
"So you went off for ... math class and came back huge?" He nods. "I guess it's about like you." Ash looks at both of the women. "It's like this. If we need something, it's probably here, or it's about to show up. I have no doubt that if we were invaded, a friendly army would come sailing up out of nowhere."
He looks back at the store. "Imagine if every store did well. Or if every album by every band went gold, no matter how badly planned, badly executed, or badly promoted. It's like... there's no downside to being lazy and talentless." Ash turns to Folly, "What's the cost, you know?"
Hannah nods. "I wonder how much it drains the King to make it that way? And it has to have its limits. It really has to, doesn't it?" she asks, looking to Folly again, since she seems to have a theory, at least.
Folly responds slowly, as if she's still sorting through her thoughts, or choosing her words: "They say Amber used to be like this, but that was before I ever saw it. Before the Sundering. She was vibrant and alive and prosperous beyond the normal bounds of economics. But even she had her bad times." She pauses, her teeth clamping down on the inside of her lower lip. "The earliest one I know of came about because the king was in love with someone besides his wife."
She looks at Ash with a small smile.
Ash's eyes get wider, instantly, and his mouth tightens.
"You never were as much of a socialist as I was," she says. "I see what you mean about 'where's the downside', though. But is Xanadu even attracting lazy, talentless people right now? I just spoke with a friend of mine -- whom you should meet, if you haven't yet -- and he complained that he thinks people here work too hard. And he's not exactly lazy or talentless himself. So possibly the downside is being filtered by some metaphysical hooey built on the king's aversion to shitty albums by hack bands. Or something."
"Um, yeah. That could be it. I'm sure it's fine, it's just too much good karma makes me nervous." Ash is speaking faster than he usually does. "So, anything in particular bring you to the neighborhood I'm tentatively calling Ashport?"
Folly grins, barely suppressing a snort. "You know, the usual. Planning a wedding, sticking our noses in other people's business, trying to figure out how we can help. How can we help?" She looks at Hannah and arches an eyebrow, perhaps to make sure she hasn't left anything out.
Hannah nods and grins at Ash. "For myself, I'm currently wondering, the people carving houses out of the cliffside, have they done that sort of thing before? Because honestly, I'm with you on the 'karma' idea."
Ash thinks. "Well, probably not, but they seem like they're doing fine. Plus, it doesn't need much, honestly. Why, are either of you stoneworks geniuses? I love not needing a fire department, but I'd hate having to start a buried-under-your-own-shoddy-digging department." Ash holds up a finger and Folly notices that Ash still has that rock steady on-the-beat delivery in his speech. "Do you really think it's something he's doing? What do you think it costs him?"
"Well, I don't know. That is to say, I don't know and I don't know," Hannah shrugs. "Maybe it's something built in as part of Xanadu. Perhaps if there was a cost to be paid, it's already been paid when Xanadu came to be here. Maybe someone else pays it, or paid it, or maybe... it gets paid by another place. Or perhaps that's not how it works at all. I was thinking about magnets - so, if Xanadu is a big magnet, and it has a certain charge, it attracts what it needs, it repels the bad. Very simplistic, but I can see how it might work. Or perhaps the shadows around it act as filters. I'm sure I sound quite insane, but I think about these mysteries all the time," Hannah smiles.
"But yes, I'm worried the first good rain the cliffside will collapse. I don't know anything about that sort of thing, I'm from the plains myself."
"Didn't Soren major in physics or something?" Folly asks. "Maybe he'd have an opinion. Or maybe our throng of newcomers includes a civil engineer or two. Or better yet, maybe we could recruit some. I'm meant to be going back to Texorami soon; maybe I should tack an advert on the 'summer jobs' bulletin board at the uni: 'Practical experience in exotic locale, room for growth', that sort of thing. " She's half-joking, but only half.
"As for what all this is costing him...." Folly shrugs. "I was under the impression that most of the work went into the creation, but I suppose I don't know for sure. Give me a few weeks, I may be able to tell you more."
Ash nods. "OK. I wouldn't be sorry if you found us some trained engineers. Soren has strange ideas based on harmonics and weird heptatonic scales that I'm not sure will stand, but he's enthusiastic, and you know how he gets." Ash hesitates, then adds. "I never was a socialist at all. I was an anarchist. Monarchist is one man away from that. Right now I'm not looking to do any subtraction, you know?"
Folly nods, and gives Ash a lopsided grin. "Me neither."
Last modified: 23 April 2007