Lilly will leave this note for Brennan to be delivered sometime after her departure, at the GM's discretion. Someone should know where she is going and Lilly tells me Brennan is the one. Not sure why, but there it is.
Brennan,
The tide has risen. Since my walk, I have had many thoughts of leaving for Shadow and many reasons for going. While duty would seem to bind me to the Kingdoms of Xanadu and Amber, I know in my heart that I will not be able to fully serve either until this wanderlust has faded.
I have set sail with Lucas and Solange. Our final destination is Xanadu. When we shall arrive is a mystery. Trust that I shall be safe. If I am needed for matters of the Knighthood, please take my proxy.
Until we meet again,
LillyPS. Do not allow Garrett to believe this is about him. I assure both of you, it is not. I will speak to him at length when I return.
It is not long after Marius' waking and checking to his affine that he seeks out if Paige still wanders the halls of Amber. He has his priorities, after all. He'll go to the kitchen and put in his "here" mark on the wall roster, gazing at the line of "Xanadu"-bound, as well as the "missing, presumed dead."
Erm.
Well, they OUGHT to have one, that's all I'm sayin'.
A flash of leg clad in impossibly tight blue denim and a loose green blouse turns the corner at the end a hall, red hair drawn into a ponytail that bobs behind her as she approaches.
When she sees him, she breaks into a jog, arms stretched wide to greet him. Her arms encircle him and she kisses him on the cheek. "Marius, you've returned!" She hasn't released her grip on him and offers a genuine smile.
Marius blushes. Full-on boyish blush. If this were an anime, he'd have an exclamation point near his red cheeks.
Erm.
Actually, he's a Man of the World.
Several worlds.
Darnit.
He gently rests his arms around her in a grasp that is loose but accomodating her own, and smiles, and it's a shy smile. "I must confess I don't believe I deserve such a greeting! Has it been that long?" he asks, trying to sound casual.
"No, not truly," she admits with a small embaressed smile.
[Somewhat different from the small em-bare-assed smile I originally typed...]
"But I had worried when you didn't make Adonis's memorial," Paige's concern seems genuine. "I had hoped to make a present of one of my Trumps to you, but the last I have is in Gilt's care for the Royal Drummer."
Marius looks at Paige for a moment, as if gauging the right level of concern versus polite fiction. "You didn't kill him, did you?" seems to be a question that Very Nearly pops out, but then he decides he'll wait for the full story.
"Word was delayed in reaching us." It is at least half an apology. "We brought a woman of the Blood from a Shadow where it was being attacked by, if I heard right, yet another member of our glorious if not gregarious Family." He sighs, but the smile returns quickly. "I am afraid I don't quite know how to handle her. She wants rescue of her charges, however, and that I am quite willing to attempt. So my stay here is but brief. I am glad, however, to see you, Trump or no Trump." He smiles a little bit shyly again.
Paige seems intrigued by new family, but for the moment concentrates on the here and now.
She turns the way he was originally walking and links her arm through his. "Not necessarily at this moment, but you must see the childen. They've grown a bit since last you saw them." Paige does blush as she realizes that she's prattling on.
"Walking, talking, building, conquering?" he asks. He at least seems interested, and doesn't seem to notice her as "prattling."
"Damn near," she answers.
"I'm sorry," the redhead apologizes. "How are you? Is Ossian well?" She seems genuinely concerned for her cousins.
"Ossian is marvelous, simply mar-- fabulous? Is that a better word? I've never seen him in pink, but I know he'll just look ..."
Nevermind. Player's mind is barely available. Let's try that one again.
"Provided Sir Brennan has not been given orders from the King to throw him into a volcano, I suppose Ossian is doing quite well. I do not believe he received as much in answers on our trip as he had hoped, but I think he was well on his way to asking pertinent and intelligent questions. Alas, this infestation of uncle may destroy some leads. I have not yet had chance to speak with him this day as yet, though, to verify my suppositions. And I? I am made better merely by the asking. Are you... alright?"
"I've survived worse," Paige answers without conviction. "But I wouldn't want to go through it again. My stay is brief as well. I plan on forging the sea route to Xanadu, and putting the twins someplace safe before deciding if my St. George impression is ready to go on the road."
After Reid and Papillon return from the tailor's shop with some portion of their purchases and the rest to follow, Papillon goes to rest. Reid, meanwhile, has a chance to talk to Celesta and prepare the needful things for his expedition to Xanadu.
Celesta, Reid's valet, will have [Ossian's] note for him when he returns from town with Papillon in tow.
//Valet girl, she's a valet girl...like, oh m'god!!!//
Reid pulls a quill and a scrap of parchment off of his easel and jots a reply.
To Ossian,
I have no direct route to Abford, but it is 2 to 3 days ride from Paris, which I can access directly. Less time in a Hellride, for those so inclined. Might not be the best route, but as a last resort, one could do worse. Though it occurs to me, with the city under seige, it would be best to Trump in if the option exists.My own business leads me to Xanadu next, unless the elders request I do otherwise.
Yours,
Reid
He passes the note to Celesta with instructions that she find Ossian sooner, rather than later. (With an implied, don't go flirting down in the kitchens again, at least not on my time...)
Ossian answers:
Reid,
thanks for the advice. As soon as I have time (which might not be soon) I will contact you for a longer discussion about Trumps of our younger relatives. I feel it is an imprtant issue that needs to be investigated more.Yours,
Ossian
Celesta will look into the relative costs and time required to prepare a vessel or a land expedition across country. She should have an answer for Reid by tomorrow afternoon. She also has his correspondence: the usual from various noble friends of his in Garnath, verbal messages from friends of his on the dockside delivered by way of Stoat, an inquiry from Baron Kaliq about when Reid might be available for dinner, etc. etc.
Does Reid have any correspondence he wishes to send out, or is there anything else Celesta can do before she's on her way to look into the expedition outfitting?
If it can be arranged without seeming to hastily scheduled, Reid would enjoy having dinner with the Baron tonight (D+1) and perhaps after dinner, visit and catch up with some of his dockside friends in the pubs. Celesta can make the arrangements, delivering messages to both Kaliq and Stoat while she's running her errands.
Once she's on her way, he'll tend to the written correspondence from his friends in Garnath, replying that he'll be traveling through their lands most likely within the week and that he'd take pleasure in their company at that time.
Celesta returns after some time with return messages for dinner with the Baron and afters with Stoat. It'll take a couple of days to get everything together for the caravan, but Celesta has everything underway.
With a memory of fading Amber sun and an afternoon that may hold back the dark of the next few weeks, Celina turns into the castle hallway as per the directions of the page downstairs. She is wearing a very loose white shirt over a very long dark skirt. The red Parisian boots flicker from beneath the skirts as she walks.
She moves to Llewella's door and scratches it smartly. Then she knocks upon it three times for good measure.
Celina is nervous. The dolph rarely visits the shark.
It opens while she is knocking, and the third knock misses the door entirely. Llewella opens the door. "Celina. I wasn't expecting company. Come in."
The room is decorated with bright items: crystals and mirrors and glass everywhere. It all catches the light and Celina blinks at the intensity of it.
So long in the gold and shadows of Amber and Xanadu, Celina steps forward dazzled by the facets within the suite. The glass and crystal send light circling and circling the space. Mastery or mayhem?
"May I offer you something to drink?" asks Llewella.
The young girl wrenches her eyes from the racing light and looks at her 'aunt'. "A drink? Yes, that would be kind of you." A chill washes through Celina as Llewella moves to the sideboard. The room and light are unsettling and her nerves are now worse than she imagined they could be. She calls the lessons that banish wasted energy before performance.
Celina drops a small glass vial from her sleeve into her palm and then places it carefully in the center of a low table near to the chair Llewella should use. Inside the glass is blood nearly up to the cork. It makes the cut on her palm itch to look at it directly. She backs up towards the other chair and waits for the drink to be offered.
Celina nods, smiles, and toasts, "To our family's health, Aunt Llewella."
After they both drink, Celina says, "I wasn't sure you would come see me, so I decided to see you. Would you be willing to pass a message to Khela? Is it right of me to ask or do her politics offend you?"
Llewella looks slightly pained, and drinks most of her drink. "You're the blunt one, aren't you? Alright, then. A long time ago, Khela got into quite a lot of trouble and dragged a lot of people with her, and I bought her way out of it, but I couldn't save her friends. She's still not happy with me about that and I'm still paying the price with your mother.
"It depends on what the message is. Some things aren't safe to say." She finishes her drink, and stands up. "Refill?" she asks, heading back to the sideboard.
Celina walks to the sideboard behind her aunt. "Yes." She stands there navigating the glass to the drink as Llewella pours. She sips this, enjoying the flavors, but not the added thoughts that pilot-fish the conversation.
"Well, so you are in the middle and the Queen still holds a price on you. You have my sympathy and respect." Celina drinks most of her glass now. She looks at the crystal and mirrors.
She is a prisoner. The Queen has her watched constantly. That must be the price. So the Queen is afraid of more things than her own daughter. And Llewella believes that the Queen could still find and kill Khela in the Seaward.
Celina resists a mighty urge to smash every bit of glass here. She finishes her drink instead. Her thoughts rush down a staircase into darkness where only the deadly sparks of great sliding curves can harm her.
All the questions she hears in the darkness there are not for the ears that may listen in this room. She returns to the moment in a blink and pushes forward. You can't stop. Ever. It will kill you.
"Tell Khela that I've gotten over her omissions. I see the chances she took." Celina's face registers only calm meditation except for the eyes looking at her aunt. The eyes are part anger, part sadness. "I still love her, but no longer can give her my trust."
Celina steps closer to Llewella, hearing sparks in her memory as she walks the curving path; feeling the bottoms of her feet clawed by danger. "Who will tell me about the Tritons, Aunt Llewella? Who better than you: trapped there in the middle?"
"I'll tell Khela that, with what nuance I caught of it. And I can tell you of the Tritons, even though it's not an easy topic. But it's not something I'd give away. " She turns and looks Celina in the eyes. "Do you really want to know, Celina? How badly? What would you pay to take on this burden?" Llewella's eyes are very large.
Celina stares at her aunt, unaware of the favorable comparison between their eyes.
"Blood?" Celina nods a chin at the small table next to Llewella's chair and the tiny bottle there full of sanguine fluid. "Take it. Give it to Khela if you wish. Scars? Yes, I'll take a few more. The ones I have now don't show enough to be serious."
Celina takes a slow breath to find the center. "Take your place, trapped there in the middle? No. But the next queen of Rebma may not ask you to continue to pay these prices. Yes, I really want to know. Even realizing that those watching behind the crystals will know that I know."
She smiles, a half-hearted grin. "Good and bad, Sister's Daughter. Good in that you know what to look for, but you'll want to work on determining whose baubles are whose. These are mine and they redirect things around here. It would be quite ... painful to watch my rooms." In the glinting light, it's hard to tell if her smile is mischievous or malicious.
"The politics are complex. I am not free of obligations that I do not want, but the freeing would cost more than the staying, and so I stay." She shrugs.
Celina nods slowly.
"And now they're even more complex. Your mother rules Rebma, but she does not master it. Rebma is split, like sunlight through a sapphire, and you are a disturbance. Are you Death or the Tower? That's not clear."
How true that is.
"I'll name my price, then, and you can decide if it's worth paying. I want your word that you will do your best to save Khela's life."
Celina glares a moment, really caught off-guard. But her mind races ahead. "Save it despite Khela, or despite others' endeavors? I think it makes a difference."
She shrugs. "Not to me. And I only ask for your best. It is quite possible that Khela or another will manage to kill her despite them. It was not that long ago that I had to threaten your nephew Jerod to keep him from deciding to attack her." She reaches up and touches a dangling prism, sending reflections spinning throughout the room. "Well?" she asks. "Are you willing to pay my price?"
Celina walks over to the table and snatches up the small bottle of blood. She looks at it. "It matters to me." She rolls the glass in her hand, watching the red liquid. "I know Khela enough to know that she's set on a course that will not stop with threats to her life. In that sense, I know you'd be setting me against her wishes, as I might have to make her safe from herself." And can I stop Jerod? Not with all the ice in the crypt of Lir.
"I don't want us to be at each other's eyes." Celina sighs. "What is the name of her Triton? Does she still have him? Has she walked the Pattern?" Llewella can see she's won, it is only a matter of fine points now. As confirmation, Celina turns slightly to meet Llewella's eyes. She nods to her aunt. "Your price is hard, and there will be hard feelings from it. I cannot say what else will come of it. I agree."
"Good. So now I will answer your questions. The tritons are a defeated enemy. Long ago, my mother bound the tritons, who were attacking Rebma, to her, and bound them to her will. Some were bound to serve and most were exiled to the depths of their home in a Sargasso sea. The ones in Rebma were hostages to the good behavior of the rest. It is the shame of this defeat that brought about the oaths of silence most take.
"In shadow, Khela has come across something that has made her convinced that she can challenge my sister for the throne, something involving control of the tritons. She won't say so to me, of course, but I have my suspicions. It's my guess that she has some token of the champions who defeated them in the first war."
She takes a large drink from her glass. "In case that didn't come up in your lessons, that would be your Uncles Osric and Finndo."
My lessons? Celina barely avoids a snort of irony.
"The Queen didn't mention the twins. I found out about them from Reid just today." Celina scrunches her nose for a moment, wondering if she should change her mind about asking Reid to join her trip. Merlin would approve.
But things were still not so easy for her. Reid was yet a stranger. Might he not think holding the Tritons under heel was a good thing?
Llewella suggested that Khela had followed the same path of reason as Celina's: it might mean taking the throne to free the Tritons.
"And did Khela take a triton into exile with her?" Celina asks. "Did she get access to the Pattern? I think no."
"Khela's triton is in my service, you've met him, I expect. And no, she hasn't taken the Pattern. Based on what I know, I'm reasonably sure it would kill her." Llewella looks at Celina.
Shellfish! Celina's hands come up reaching for Llewella to comfort her. She checks herself and puts her palms together instead. What can you say to a mother who shares this?
Celina steps closer. "I hope you are wrong, but I'll respect that you are right. I will add that factor into my protection of Khela. She will not walk the Pattern if I can help it." Celina meets Llewella's incredible eyes.
Llewella's nostrils flare. "After Morganthe, we were sure. There is no non-fatal test that we know of." She turns. "I promised you information. Is there more that you need, niece?"
Celina moves closer to Llewella, close enough to scent. "If you will...
"It would help me protect Khela if I understood why a girl from the Seaward can walk the Pattern while a granddaughter of Oberon should not. I realize these things may seem quite plain and natural to you, but all I know of Morganthe's death is rumor and those are not spoken openly. Martin managed the Pattern. I succeeded not even knowing what Khela already knows. How might I understand this riddle? Why are you reasonably sure Khela should not try it?"
Celina's voice has dropped to the most intimate volume.
Llewella looks down at Celina, and doesn't speak for a few heartbeats. "Benedict told us. Her blood isn't strong enough." She stares off at the crystals twirling slowly above her. "It's almost enough to make me feel sorry for Random. Then and now." She looks back at Celina. "No one should take it lightly. Only with the permission of the King and even then the risk is great."
Celina watches her aunt. She nods as the last is obvious even to a novice like herself. Another walk on the Pattern? No, not for a long time if ever. "Her blood is not strong enough, but she is as close to the former King as I am. So is that just chance then? I've been led to believe chance is subject to legend."
She shakes her head. "I don't think it's chance, but I don't know enough to determine the pattern of it. Martin walked it, even though it killed his mother. You'll have to find someone else to explain this to you, because I don't know."
The small rebellious voice in the back of her throat is pushing for a question to be asked. Celina considers just how much trouble this could cause. And Aunt Llewella has such a long time to think up ways to get even. "You did promise information, and I have given my word that Khela will find me a guardian. I'm blunt but not unkind. Does Khela have Triton blood, Aunt Llewella? Is that part of why she's taken up their cause and her blood is weak?"
Llewella laughs. "Heh. No. They're not compatible with people that way. You've never seen a female triton, have you?"
"I haven't. And I considered that it might be an education to look for one." Celina is greatly relieved that the laugh is true. She hasn't asked the wrong question after all. While she can't quite smile with relief, her body language shows that she appreciates being able to chuckle at the questions of the uninformed, too.
"I've taken a lot of your time you didn't expect to give." Celina realizes that Llewella may not be able to take dinner downstairs now if things are formal here. On the other hand, Random doesn't strike her as a stickler like Moire. "In any case, I wish your legend good current, my aunt."
Unless Llewella seems talkative, the Seaward cousin will take the previous spoken desire of her Aunt and make a polite exit now.
Brita returns to her room after dropping off the Trumps. She sits at the table and ponders the news that Ossian is Brennan's son.
He doesn't seem that Old Brita thinks. But then, he is much more skilled than I.
She pulls out some paper and writes two quick notes:
Cousin Ambrose,
You asked if I had any Suggestions of Activities. I do Now as well as an Introduction. I am to meet tomorrow morning with Cousin [Brita scratches this out, thinks, and then continues] My Cousin Ossian, Cousin Marius, and our New Cousin Meg (to whom I will introduce you - she is from a Place Named Abford). Perhaps we can meet for Break Fast? I will be up around the start of Morning Watch, although I doubt the Meeting will occur before Terce.Brita
Brother,
I have news of a New Cousin and of a Modified one. Perhaps we can meet again tomorrow? I am to meet with several cousins in the morning beginning with Break Fast, but could meet with you before or after. Perhaps I can entice you to the Gallery for more Sketching?Brita
She sends the notes off with a page, giving him instructions that, although a response is not required, he should ask the men if there is one before leaving them. She notes that she will likely be up until a quarter watch before Matins.
Ambrose sends a brief reply note agreeing to breakfast.
Long after dinner, a page arrives at Conner's door with a note.
Conner, this is Celina
You may recall we met briefly in the infirmary at Xanadu.
I feel from things said to me that speaking to you regards the recent history of Rebma would do nothing but improve my understanding of the court of Rebma. If it seems odd that a young Seaward woman would have many curiosities regards shining Rebma, I can say it is more than a tribute to my youth and limited time in the Sapphire Court.
You swam in more matured circles than I -- and for longer -- perhaps your eyes were clearer as well.
In return, I might offer to speak of the stories I've heard from Lady Carina. I feel that a lady of the court might've been allowed to hear legends a diplomat never would come across.
My regrets for the late hour of this note. Perhaps if you find this by morning, I will be gone to shadow. Even if you find this tomorrow, I wanted to at least tickle your interest for my next visit. We really should talk someday.
Your sincere cousin
C
As time appeared to be of the essence, Conner decides not to send a return note arranging for a meeting. Instead he goes at once to what the page tells him is Celina's room. Assuming she is inside, Celina will hear a scratching at ther door. It sounds a touch formal, the scratching equivalent of being a fluent speaker but clearly not native.
From inside the room, there is a crash of metal and glass.
Loud crashing noises are high on the list of 'Things that Suspend the Rules of Etiquette'. Conner opens the door and if he finds it reluctant to do so, he applies his shoulder in a most persuasive suggestion to do so.
The door opens easily to find Celina down on one knee next to the sofa. Her hair hangs half pinned and half across her face. One hand is on her right cheek and the other is lifting a silver tray from the floor. There is a spreading scatter of broken plates, goblet and utensils in a spray between the door and sofa.
The Seaward cousin looks up at Conner and slows her hand setting the tray back on the small stool near the sofa. She shrugs inside the loose long robe she's wearing. "A nap. It's still hard waking suddenly with no water to breathe. I kicked it over sitting up and must have given you a turn. Please come in while I straighten up."
"I had the same problems in Rebma only of course my lungs were seeking air." Conner smiles and closes the door behind him. "I would not normally barge in like that even with the sounds of breaking glass, but these days I prefer not to take the chance." He says by way of apology. "Easy enough to send for a servant to take care of that. Wouldn't be the first pile of broken crockery the staff has had to clean up to be sure. Of course there would be rumors of the horrible argument that occured between us to explain said broken crockery. Perhaps I should just help you." He chuckles and crouches down to retrieve the stray flatware.
"Watch out for the forks," Celina smiles moving the hand from her cheek, "they're vicious." There is a slight mark on her face. She quickly moves pieces and debris back to the tray.
"There, no rumors of arguments or otherwise." She straightens and tucks the belt of the robe tighter. "And thank you for helping. Please make yourself comfortable."
Conner chooses a chair opposite where Celina was napping and settles into it. "Thank you for the most intriguing invitation to talk. I've been meaning to send a similar missive to you for some time but circumstances haven't allowed it." Conner smiles warmly at Celina. "So, where shall we begin?"
Celina laughs. "They say you should start at the beginning, but in my case, they still haven't told me what that was." She almost sits, but with another glance at the debris piled tray, she grabs it and with a nod to Conner, she takes it over to set out of the way by the door to the suite. "I understand you are a criminal mastermind in Rebma. Does this prevent you from having an interest in things there or provoke it?"
She turns to look at him and slowly walks back to the sofa and sits. "And do you have recommendations on getting the better of a triton in a tussle?"
"Bring friends." Conner smiles. "Bring many friends. A crossbow from a distance also helps." Conner advises. "My interest in Rebma is ongoing and undiminished but reliable information from the City Under the Sea is in short supply. I look forward to whatever tibdits you can offer."
Celina thinks about Conner's humor for a moment. A smile surfaces slowly.
Celina lounges back upon the sofa. "One upon a time, there was a very proper young lady who was actually a princess but she only found this out when served in public on a silver platter decorated with roses. So they called her 'Princess Tidbit' and she flushed green a lot.
"In various travels to several kingdoms, 'Princess Tidbit' seemed mostly an after-thought and very thin on understanding her place in the seven seas. Then one day, she met a courageous group of relatives who had fought a dragon and lost a cousin because of it. In this group, there were children, mother, ranger, tarnished diplomat, and a bitten and seared warrioress." Celina remembers the smell and drawn faces of the wounded. She recalls Conner's sigh after he said the 'immediate threat' was over. "The princess woke to the sense of stealing into an opera in the second act, but she realized she belonged on the stage and not in the audience. It was an important idea.
"And so each day seemed more vital and shorter than the day before. 'Princess Tidbit' felt as if the tides were running out never to properly come back in. She reached out and touched strangers, wishing to contact that blood hers by strange origin and understand the legend that flows with that blood. She learned someone wanted her dead. She learned her mother, powerful queen that she was, could not begin to protect her from her enemies. And she heard that those same enemies might have chased the Tarnished Diplomat from the Emerald City.
"Savage conflict is heralded by these signs: a queen who cannot command the faithful, a princess who is not safe even in ignorance, and a diplomat who is not a crimelord." Celina runs a finger along her chin. "Your turn. What comes next? Broaden our tale." She grins.
"Next?" Conner chuckles. "Oh no, we still speak of the past. Back before the Diplomat was Tarnished."
'What is it about underwater beings that make them speak in stories?' Conner wonders idly before continuing his tale.
"You see there was a woman who was twice a princess and she left her home in the Emerald in the care of her reputation and to a lesser extent the diplomats. The diplomats had little else to do as the way to their land was blocked. So it happened that her reputation was not enough to protect her house and it was broken into. Vandalized. Every item of glass was smashed and every reflective metal was dented. Nothing seemed to be missing but then, we were not the owners to know this for sure."
Celina nods, listening quite closely.
"Now an update to the dramatis personae." Conner announces. "The queen chose from her servants two to investigate this matter: a lady with no title skilled in the art of looking around corners, and her brother a lord of juxtaposed elements. The lord graciously invited the diplomat to aid the investigation by staying away from it. Naturally, the diplomat then had to look into things further which in hindsight was desired reaction. So much easier to let the drylander stir things up and watch from a distance." Conner clears his throat.
Celina purses her lips as if she can imagine these story characters.
"The diplomat made himself obvious in his searches until at last he found himself followed. He attempted to follow the follower and was led into a trap. Two Tritons in masks gave him a friendly beating though they found the diplomat to be more trouble than they expected." Conner smiles. "He was saved by the Lord of Images and his guards and from the way the story disturbed him, it was clear something was afoot."
"Ah," Celina wrinkles her nose.
"This is proving to be a dry tale at least as far as my throat is concerned." Conner comments. "Do you happen to have anything to drink handy?"
Celina swings into action, up from the sofa in a liquid rush and over to the sideboard. "These rooms are nicely equipped, but most of it is too strong or tasting oddly to me." She scans the bottles under the lifted lid. "Brandy?"
With a yes from Conner. She puts bottle to tumbler, watching carefully and having learned the hard way not to squeeze the container, as the glass above the waves does not flex. She walks the golden drink back to Conner, serving him easily as she might have done dozens of times for the Queen of Rebma.
Celina's knotted robe is not as tightly secured from her trip to sideboard and back. She's obviously naked underneath. "So you were used and then made a target. How similar these tactics seem." Celina pauses. "Have you spoken to the Twice-a-Princess?"
Her state of dress does not discomfort Conner at all. He is however grateful for the diplomats gift of looking without staring.
"Indeed." Conner nods in answer after taking a long sip of the brandy. "Either by design or natural inclination she revealed nothing of consequence. Of course this may have been due to the somewhat public venue of the questioning. I have yet to seek her out in more private enviorns. More likely, I believe it is because I will always be more of Amber than of Rebma and thus she holds her cards close to the vest. Have you had occasion to speak with her?"
Celina nods 'yes' to Conner. She returns to the sideboard and pours a companionable brandy for herself. "I have, but since I didn't know about this attack on her demesne, I know nothing of what she might say. I rather suppose she would think poorly on it."
Celina turns back to Conner, swirling the gold liquid and glass with a gesture. Her gaze considers him, traveling his line from toe to smile. "And now that I wonder on it, I have an interest in what the Twice-a-Princess will make of Paris."
Suddenly she adds, "I've been met by hostile Tritons, also. Like you, it required a rescuer. Did you ever find out who sent the Tritons against you? I did not."
"Nor I, but it is a very short list is it not?" Conner muses. "That is what makes it so vexing that one cannot puzzle it out. Her Majesty seems to be ruled out unless she is playing games with herself. Valeria seemed convinced that her father, Hagarel, was killed so it could not have been her Tritons that abducted Thalia. Or she is a fabulous actress."
Celina sighs.
Conner looks up. "My apologies. I've gotten ahead of my own story." Conner smiles. "The short version is that after my beating rumors drifted on the currents. All negative rumors. 'There is no reason to believe Conner is involved with smuggling.' True statements that serve to incriminate me. Clever really." Conner does appreicate a competent enemy however annoying they are. "I accepted Thalia's offer of a safe house as I did not think the Embassy was secure for me. On her way from there to her Embassy, she was attacked and abducted by Tritons. I found her escort, Hargarel, coming to. He summoned guards from the Gatewegian embassy and we went off in pursuit. This is where the friends and the crossbows come in." Conner points out. "Those two Tritons were dealt with and Thalia freed. The alarm was raised and the entire Triton neighborhood seemed to be after us. We escaped through an air filled tunnel that surfaced in a nearby shadow." Conner leans forward. "Any of that strike a chord with you?"
Celina frowns with the effort to see a pattern there. "Three tritons tried to waylay me, but then I had one with me as a defender. These hostile tritons were masked but one had a bite from his tail. Were their faces marked in any way you could remember? Anything to distinguish them?"
"My Tritons were masked as well but I managed to remove one as we fought." Conner replies. "In the brief moment between removing it and having my face filled with a Tritonian fist, I caught a glimpse of bright facial tattoos. Not enough to describe them though. Does that have any significance for you?"
Celina sighs again. "Court commanded."
She stares at her drink. "It's strange Conner. A single triton could turn a woman like Thalia into paste. Their strength is awesome. So they wanted her somewhere to use as leverage. Who benefits from Thalia's capture? Or if they were looking for you through her, what swim were they taking when you overtook them with Thalia? Because whoever they were returning to is deep in this. Did you do geometry on the vector? Were they swimming for the palace?"
"The popular theory is that Thalia was going to be murdered and I framed for it thus removing two problems at once and leaving Hargarel unharmed since killing the father of a Royal is rarely a desirable thing." Conner explains. "I get the feeling they were something of an irritant to the Crown though what happened to suddenly catapult them to prominence is unknown to me.
"As for the vectors, we swam down to intercept them." Conner replies. "We were deep in the heart of Triton territory when we caught up. And for some reason Thalia was wearing a white robe instead of clothes she was caught in." Conner turns questioning eyes to Celina.
Pain crosses Celina's emerald eyes. You aren't wearing the right color. You should be in white. "Down then, not moving towards the palace, but to somewhere in the trodden." She ponders silently and is soon lost in thought. After a long pause, she whispers, "Also where I was attacked."
"They are protecting something then it would seem." Conner muses. "Who was your savior, Celina?" Conner inquires.
"Atrios, the Esteemed. Did you know him?" Celina says. She stretches and slides her feet forward and rolls her neck muscles to loosen her thoughts in sympathy. The tension of remembering is something she must accomodate. "Who was the Lord of Images? Lamell? Isn't that a strange idea."
Suddenly the Seaward girl cocks her head to the side. She looks directly at Conner and her expression plainly is a turbulent blend of speculation and surprise.
Conner shakes his head. "I do not know of Atrios and the Lord of Images I refer to is Montage and the lady without a title is Bend. Royal troubleshooters extra-ordinary I am told. Certainly servants trusted with far more important things than a simple break-in. So who is this Atrios? I thought I knew the names of most important people in Rebma, but I do not know that one."
"Atrios was not seen at court after Martin left. He is an elder Triton." Celina leaves the connection unsaid, a habit of court and events surrounding Morganthe.
She goes on quietly. "And the Lord of Images was startled, worried about this attack on you. So he is working for the throne and that was the first time he realized things were coming undone. Such a small list of suspects commands the Tritons, I'm sure that puzzled him greatly." The emotions sweep in like tide, making her feel again the sadness in her heart for years and years of intentions swept into darkness. How the Tritons must gnaw at themselves, being caught in so many conflicting instructs. It's worse than I imagined. Not two sides. At least four.
Celina fingers her lower lip in thought: a very small list of suspects. "You aren't the son of Brand or Bleys, are you, Conner? Fiona is your mother? Did Rebma know you were a royal?" She gestures away the question. "Yes, someone did. Two Tritons would not be sent after a mortal man. So they respected you greatly and the part your mother might play. That worked in your favor." She pinches her lip in worry between thumb and finger.
"I would disagree." Conner replies. "I spent decades in Amber interacting with the Royals on a semi-regular basis and none of them ever suspected I was other than a normal man. I find it highly unlikely someone in Rebma would have figured it out. Still," Conner continues, "you are right that two Tritons would be overkill. They certainly did not expect the resistance I put up. Nor did they expect me to heal as quickly as I did. Else they would have moved faster I think. They certainly would never risk arresting a son of Fiona if he could claim the right of sorcerous combat." Conner smiles grimly. "Then we have the question of Valeria's acting ability once more. She was surprised."
Her expression remains sad. "I think you saved Thalia's life for certain if she was headed for a ritual sacrifice. Not that this is religious. I thought so at first. Now I think They are using the trappings to manipulate Hope."
"To manipulate Hope?" Conner echoes. "What exactly do you mean by that? Is someone making promises to the Tritons?"
Celina sips at the brandy and allows her expression 'I said as much' to answer the question. As she lowers the glass she nods 'yes' for emphasis. "Unexpected. Unprovable at the moment, but it follows. I may agree that Valeria isn't involved, especially since the troubles in Rebma continued even after she was in Amber."
She uses her fingertip to blot at the corners of her eyes. Then she knocks back the rest of her brandy.
Conner fetches the decanter and refills her glass and his own. "When I was in the Land of Peace I bargained with a marid and was told a tale of Tritons, those that name themselves Sons of the Dragon." He settles back down in his seat. "I think you should hear it. It went something like this."
Conner closes his eyes for a moment. When he speaks, the rhythm and cadence is not his own. There is even the hint of an accent.
"The Sons of the Dragon are near-mythological. They are a crafty race, they are capable of great piety, great violence, and great guile. Some say that the great kelp-forests from which they appear is fey, a wood between worlds where the unwary can become lost for a day or nap for twenty years and miss a war and a generation in a single afternoon. One may run across an unnatural pod of hunting sharks or a sunken city from ages long before Man or Marid walked the sea bottom. Stray into the deeps of the forest and you may never find your way out. It is rumored that they seek those who are of an artistic bent, and they fall naturally in thrall to the sons..."
Conner pauses for a moment and then speaks a little more quickly.
"But the one encounter dreaded by all who must pass the forest is that with a Son of the Dragon! Some call them legends, but I am all too aware of their existence, for I have encountered one and survived! For all that our people complain of the burdens we undertake for knowledge, we do take those burdens willingly.
"I dealt with a Son of the Dragon, and traded with him for something of their story. At the time I felt that I had done well, but I have since decided that the dragonson sought me out and used me as he would.
"His Tale, for which I paid dearly, is short and intriguing. For uncounted time the sons of the dragon lived with their mother (all dragons are female, it seems) and were lords of the forest, fighting amongst themselves and with their neighbors. A blight came, an irritant to their mother, in the form of a city on the outskirts of their forest. It grew for some time, a canker untreated, until the sons banded together and decided to war upon the interlopers.
"The war was epic, and eventually the city found allies and turned the tide. The battle was taken to the great forest and the interloper and her foreign cousins won. The sons of the dragon sued for peace. The arrangement was tricky, with some of the sons given in bondage in perpetuity to the city, with the understanding that the city would not expand further towards the forest.
"He seemed to think it was a good arrangement for the protection of their mother, the Dragon, but wondered how his long-estranged brethren were living up to the obligations incurred on them by their ancestors."
Conner then opens his eyes. "From hints dropped by Reid, the allies mentioned were of Amber specificly Osric and Finndo. How does this tale mesh with your knowledge of the Tritons?"
"Yes. Reid told me a sketch of the war and his father as its hero," Celina agrees. "And all that you have sung is as I have learned it from others, but for the part you thinned about the 'natural thralldom' and the sons and the artists. Those things I have not heard before." She looks down at her refilled glass.
"You do realize that I might be a suspect in your Rebman downfall?" Celina adds quietly.
"The thought had crossed my mind." Conner replies. "But as you have been the only one from under the seas to send me a note and politely express a desire to converse about this situation, I have done you courtesy of not bringing it up or indeed of thinking it often." Conner smiles wide at her and then knocks back the rest of his drink.
Celina looses a low energy chuckle that almost becomes a laugh. She reaches to her cheek and fingers the scratch from the errant fork.
"Where do you go from here, Celina?" Conner asks. "The urgency hinted at in your note speaks of a plan in motion."
"Well, I have figured out that you were gone before I was brought to Rebma. So I wanted you to know I didn't order any Tritons to ruin your investigation. The number of people who could have is very small. Specifically, it comes down to two people in my mind. Tomorrow I will leave Amber in an effort to find out which of the two are ...involved, if not both." That last bit will surprise Celina. It seems she's voiced something she hadn't seriously considered yet. "From what I've learned of shadow so far, you might not see me for months, but I did want you to know I wasn't your enemy.
"I tend to think whoever is your enemy is also mine," she adds.
"Then may you have more success in your search for answers than I have." Conner replies. "I too will be travelling in Shadow so the parting may indeed be long. When next we speak I hope to hear of your victory over our enemies or to be drawn into strategic council against them." Conner offers her a dark smile and rises from his seat.
Celina is surprised by what seems a generous spontaneous offer. She rises with a look of gratitude. "That's not why..." The young woman closes her mouth. She takes a breath. "I am very happy to consider such an alliance between us. You've been generous with your time and understanding and I feel I depart better armed than I have been."
"I am glad to have been of some service." Conner replies as any good diplomat would. "I too think a pooling of our resources could prove most interesting. Perhaps in the fullness of time we shall find out."
She moves forward and takes his hand. "Thank you, Conner. And good luck on your travels as well."
"Fare well, Celina." Conner brings the hand to his lips for a courtly kiss.
And if there is no more to be said, she sees him to the door to then sleep on her good fortune.
Last modified: 22 January 2006