Conner walks over from where he has been talking with the merchants and rejoins Celina and Merlin. "Well, Master Rooker here," Conner gestures to himself, "has been talking with the natives. There is a militia blocking the path out of here. Two of them in fact if my source over there is to be believed. One holds lines against the other it seems. He wants 100 pounds of steel to show us a safe way across. He's charging a high price but I sense that is because he knows he can deliver what he offers. Do we wish to pay his price or trust to our own skills in bypassing this problem?"
"I say we pay our way," Celina smiles at both men over becalmed eyes. "This close, I expect seeing the problems is more important than our ease. We don't want to miss anything. Is there any mention of militia composition? Can you find the fee?"
"He would not give me any information on the soldiers without payment. He knows he has us over a barrel and plans to make the most he can out of the deal." Conner informs her. "As for the fee, if I cannot find the amount of metal needed convieniently stored in a warehouse that I just happen to have the key to, I trust in my abilities to turn the funds I brought from the Embassy into the proper amout of steel in short order."
"I can also produce what we need by sorcery," Merlin says. "I see no need to draw on great power if we can avoid it, however. Let us move in silence as long as we can."
"I'm fine with notion as well," Celina says. "Conner, it seems a quiet payoff will get us moving again. Please do the honors. What would you have of us?"
"To loan me anything of monetary value that you do not mind losing, and then trust to my salesmanship." Conner smiles.
And so it is.
Once he has money and trade goods in hands, Conner goes on a mundane trading spree to work his small stash up to the amount needed to pay off Hamaclar. If it seems this is simply too daunting a task for even Conner's skill at fast talking, then he will work minor applications of probability manipulation and similar Pattern tricks to allow better bargaining chips to fall into his hands when he needs them. In terms of priority, a short time frame is more important than running silent, but he wants to minimize power use wherever he can.
It takes Conner less than a watch to parley the goods in hand into tokens worth 100 pounds of high-quality metals. [Card draw good + GM doesn't consider scrounging for cash high adventure...]
Conner is quite pleased with himself. On days like this, he could sell Rebmans snorkeling equipment.
Master Rooker's contact takes the money, nods and sticks out his hand. "Alright Master Rooker, I'm your guide. Call me 'Hannibal'. Anything else going, or just you three? Are you ready?"
"Just us three and we are prepared. Lead the way, Hannibal." Rooker informs him.
Celina takes a moment to whisper to Merlin that he should watch the back trail for followers. Then they are off to mounts and travel.
Merlin nods, gravely, and mutters a few syllables in a strange language.
[Hannibal doesn't think it's possible to sneak with horses. What do you do with them?]
[No horses. If you all will recall, Conner recommended not bringing them down here before they ventured through the Gate on the grounds that horses would draw too much attention and Celina agreed.]
Hannibal leads the way through the underwater trading post that is Gateway, and out to the north, taking a route that doesn't seem particularly close to the way to Rebma. After some time, when Conner and Celina can see what they guess is the edge of the breathable water, Hannibal gestures towards a shadowy rock. "There. That's a cave entrance. Follow me."
He climbs down into a cave through a crack that is remarkably larger than it looks. Inside, Conner and Celina see what can only be a smuggler's cache of goods. Or a pirate's. Hannibal gestures for the airbreathers to follow him. He rounds a bend into darkness, and seconds later a lantern's glow is visible around the corner. "Stay near the south wall. Some tides the heavy water comes inside."
[Out of curiosity, what kind of lantern works underwater?]
[Path to Rebma is lit by underwater torches. Lantern works like that. :) ]
With that warning, Hannibal begins to move through the cave, like an anglerfish with his light. The way continues for a good hour's travel, but is relatively smooth. This is not a new route, and it has been improved by the steady wear of footsteps and dragged goods.
After a last twist and a brief climb, Hannibal turns out the light. "Up there, we're behind their lines." He swims up, and reaches down to help the others out.
Clutching his spear cane in case of trouble, Conner elects to go first after Hannibal. "How close to their lines are we?" Conner asked. "And for matter, what do you know about both militias? Who is fighting who?"
Celina and brother follow on with the Seaward lass trying to learn from the trader cousin.
[I always found that underwater lanterns were best imagined as luminous solid sticks that had slotted shields around them and a slotted cover.]
"Depends on if they've moved. Dulinor Gap is probably their chokepoint, it's where we normally move goods as we want to have customs inspections for. They sit of each side of it, and there's not another good place to stop a concerted group of people for miles, so we're likely safe from fighting, which they are not doing."
He points down the long valley they've emerged into. "Five miles that way is an inn, where the road crosses a rip current. It'll either be mostly empty because merchants aren't moving, or it'll be mostly full of whoever is keeping 'em from moving. I'm going there. What are your plans, Mr. Rooker?"
"That depends on the lady." Conner gestured to Celina. "She has an uncanny knack of knowing the right way to go. Should we find ourselves without better direction though, you'll likely find us at the inn as well." He answered with a smile.
"Yes," Celina adds, "the roadway inn. Likely that." Celina will let their guide take them all to the inn. Later if it matters, there will be less reason to sell any information about them if they do the expected things as long as they are still with Hannibal.
Along the five miles to the inn, she tastes the waters and lets the currents run across her skin seeking that same destiny which has fueled her purpose thus far.
Celina feels that she is going in the right direction. It's also the direction of Rebma, if she makes certain shifts or follows the right natural shadow paths.
The inn is basic, both a gathering place for locals and a waypoint for surface merchants and seaward shells moving goods to the ports that can take goods to Rebma. There is another inn a day's walk from here, and there one can book ships. It should be busy, like the inn just by the gate. It's not. There's only one customer, and she doesn't seem to be doing more than waiting. Hannibal says "I'll go see if there's someone in the kitchens."
So.
Celina's heart hammers an exotic rhythm and she nods to Hannibal's suggestion. She thinks it is probable that someone is in the kitchen. Someone flirty with a fine fish stew ready to be tasted. Several bottles of a decent Gatewegian blue wine set aside.
The Seaward woman wants to sit at another table. She wants this to be slower and more difficult. But she pulls the stool out near the table already occupied by the lingering female.
Conner shrugs as Celina decides to take the narwhal by the horn on the negotiation front. Conner turns to Merlin. "I think I'll keep our guide company. Perhaps you would stay to keep an eye on things here?" With that, Conner strides off after Hannibal to see what they would see.
Hannibal opens a kitchen door, letting the smell of fish stew waft on the currents towards Conner.
[Assuming Conner follows him...]
Inside, Hannibal is smiling at a young woman, who yells "Hannibal!" and launches herself at the smuggler. She seems happy to see him, and doesn't seem to have a knife.
Conner simply waits in the doorway with a smile on his face. He is polite enough not to intrude on this touching little scene, but has intention of withdrawing. "Well know I see why this Inn was your destination." Conner comments a few moments later.
He looks at the girl. "These nice folks financed my trip here." He smiles at her. "You take good care of them."
The girl wipes her hands on her apron. "Welcome to the Cuttlefish Inn, Mister, and my thanks for bringing Hannibal. What can I get for you? We have some wine."
"Wine and some that stew I smell cooking would be lovely." Conner replies. "Not very busy at the moment I see. What news has flowed by here of late?" Conner inquires.
"Of late? None. We're blockaded by the idiot Gatewegans on one side and cut off by sea due to pirates to landward. It's got people jumping at shadows." She strokes Hannibal's back. "Some shadows we don't mind jumping at, mind you."
The girl moves back amongst the pots. It's not clear how they make stew in Rebma, but she's obviously doing it. "Stew for how many, Mister?"
"Three but make them generous portions." Conner replies. "I and my companions tend to be of prodigious appetite." He chuckles. "So how long has this stalemate been going on. This Inn still stands so I presume you must get some trade."
She smiles at Conner and whispers something to Hannibal that makes him smile. "This is the seaward, sunwalker. Here we can feed ourselves by roof-mounted nets. As long as we're not taxed or warred upon, we can usually get by without getting paid for a long stretch. It's leaner than we like, but this is a lucky country. No one ever starves."
She lets her man go and begins ladling stew into bowls. It's interesting to watch how she does it in the water without spilling. Soon she has the tray ready and motions Conner towards the door.
"Lucky enough that you can boil up a huge pot of stew on the off chance company drops by, I see." Conner points out. Conner gallantly opens the door for Hannibal and his lady. "Well there is something to be said for being in the right location."
The innkeeper grabs four bowls and a bottle as she goes by the door.
"How fares the cut and thrust of business?" [Celina] asks the stranger.
The girl smiles at Celina. "Business? Not too good, my friend. Too many people too interested in not doing business for a simple girl from the seaward to advance her shell. Too many idiots everywhere. I'm Amala. I didn't realize anyone was on the road behind me."
"As I didn't realize you were ahead of me," Celina replies easily. "I have found that there is a blockade. Likely I'll be turning aside here but a night of rest is a good investment." She studies the girl's clothes and manner for familiarity.
The girl does look familiar. Perhaps she was in a crowd at court or in a different year at school. Celina does not recognize her.
"Please, sit down. I'm waiting for someone, but he won't be here for a while. Are you with a merchant shell?"
"Thank you," Celina makes herself comfortable. "I'm not officially with a shell. I'm prospecting a bit. Bad timing that I run into a blockade."
Celina tosses a question of her own. "Anyone else that you've seen through here in the last few days besides military? I'm surprised I didn't see other merchants on the road. Why's the border closed?"
"Best that I can tell? Stupid local politics. First the Gatesiders clamped down on Bandits or Pirates or Smugglers or something. Then the Seaward folks armed up, saying the Gatesiders were the smugglers and bandits, then they stopped talking." She shakes her head. "For all that they're generally useless out in the Seaward, this is the kind of thing Rebma used to stop."
A number of impulses and tastes chase around the tip of Celina's tongue. She tries to smile to hide her dismay but she isn't as clever as Conner. She belatedly nods her head in appearance of agreement.
A deep breath of the water and Celina answers, "Is Rebma not patrolling the trade routes then? Odd isn't it? What could be drawing their attention elsewhere?"
The girl shrugs. "There was over a decade of no contact out this far. They probably have bigger eels to wrestle than this backwater." She pauses. "I'm not sure everyone out here wants Rebma back. Some people didn't have good old days." She looks down.
Sensing some pain that wants to be shared, Celina laces her fingers together in her lap and asks, "I know many Seaward families that dote on everything Rebma offers, but I'd like to hear about the other things you've seen. Was it very bad for your loved ones?"
Amala shrugs. "For us it was a blessing. Khrop wasn't a very popular Shell in the capital." She would've been a girl when Celina was last in the Seaward.
And so nearly was Celina a girl when last in the Seaward, or so she feels today. Her heart beats faster now, knowing that this pleasant shade of sea, those slender hands and that face are so familiar because of Khela.
How do these things turn on themselves? Could Khela find a Seaward family that resembled her in order to disappear from Moire's seeking? Without Pattern is this likely?
Might there be a blood survival resonance of Pattern that doesn't require the walking initiation? Celina nods her head. Yes, that's it. Some shadows would be friendly to such things than others. That would be something to look at later.
"My name is Celina, adopted of Narhval," the Seaward Cousin offers, "let's have dinner together for I have crossed paths with Khrop some years ago and was treated passing well. If your mission is stalled we can at least have nice wine and good company until your man shows." She watches for reaction to her name now.
She lights up and speaks very quickly. "You're Celina? I've heard of you! It went around all the academies when you were chosen to go become a Lady of the Royal Bedchamber. All the girls thought it was amazing! What are you doing back out here? Who do you know from Khrop?"
Celina studies the young lady's excited manner. "Yes, Celina. I'm traveling on business. I knew an academic named, Khela."
The girl grins. "Of course! I'm so stupid, I should've thought of her. She wasn't home much when I was younger. She's ... special to us." The girl is still grinning, but it's clear to Celina that she's off-balance, perhaps trying to conceal something.
"Special? Oh, yes," Celina nods, "I suppose it was quite convoluted to have her adopted into the Shell in a way that other trade factors would accept, everyone being so concerned about family ties. So many curious opportunities. All Khrop Shell agents allowed to travel would have to be briefed on Khela. Is that what you meant by special? Or was there something else more personal to that 'us' you used?" Celina keeps eyes locked with the young woman though her voice is conversational.
"It was a matter of honor," the girl says, as if that explains all.
A strange woman enters, followed by Hannibal and Conner. She is carrying a tray with bowls on it.
"Stew for four", she announces, then she lays out the bowls. She puts down a bottle as well. "I'll have to go back for mugs. You all need anything else?"
Celina replies with a soft, "No, thank you. This is fine." She digs into the stew and will also try the wine. She considers it might be probable that the woman is meeting a lover. Probable that Celina's arrival might make her nervous enough that the trader will drink more than she should.
Or it might be probable that lives do turn on a matter of honor. How could it be so easy to say things so sharp and full of teeth?
Celina spares a smile for Conner and Merlin since she is being so quiet. She eats hungrily.
Conner graces Celina's companion with a bright smile. "Good tide to you miss. I am Master Rooker and I do hope you will forgive me for interrupting your conversation with something as mundane as dinner." Conner chuckles and digs into his stew as well. "How fare you this day?"
"Good den, Master," says the girl. "Do you come from the Court as well?" She seems somewhat overawed, which is not too strange, given that a member of the royal court has unexpectedly joined her for dinner.
Merlin is trying to figure out how to eat stew underwater. It's not as easy as he'd apparently thought. He spends a great deal of time watching his cousins with more Rebman experience.
"Mr. Rooker is an excellent guide that I have paid a pretty price to employ on this trip," inserts Celina between attacks on the stew. "He does much of my business with the locals, you see." She nods at Conner.
Conner never had trouble eating things like stew underwater. Getting the stew from the bowl to his mouth is always the tricky bit. It is like learning to use chopsticks really. Completely foreign at first but second nature after a few years practice. Of course, knowledge of surface tension equations are surprising helpful in picking up the knack. "I do have the gift of gab and a knack for identifying local needs and concerns." Rooker admits. "From seaward to court and a few places that aren't even in between." He smiled.
Conner's look to Celina is little questioning. After all, it was Celina that wanted this trip to be as incognito and under the sonar as possible. So why was there mention of being from Court? It was hard to put all that into a look and phrase but Conner was skilled at such things. A slight rise of the eyebrow over the word 'court' along with a queried rise of pitch would convey the curiosity to one that could read him.
Celina watches as Merlin studies Conner and she nods as Conner plays on her lead.
"Really?," says the girl. "I've hardly been anywhere. Of course so much of our business has been with Gateway recently that that's no surprise. We're so isolated and backwards out here." Her eyes open a bit wider. "You're here on some sort of Royal diplomatic mission, aren't you?" She doesn't seem to breathe much once she starts talking.
Merlin eats his stew like Conner, although much more carefully.
Celina drills her solid gaze back at the young lady. She calculates how very badly the girl wants to be part of something bigger and allows a bit of the truth that Celina has much to hide to show on her face. Celina judges it likely that it becomes more probable that the wine and celebrity will loosen this girl's tongue more than a bit. Celina does not look at the men but she extends her foot under the table and taps on Conner's ankle. "Not here and now, dear Amala. Perhaps you'd care to have a drink with me upstairs after our meal? We should catch up in more cozy surroundings."
Conner turns a give a curious look to Celina at her foot tap. To Amala, Conner tries to make the look slightly jealous as though Celina were offering Amala something he was not privy to. Mostly though, Conner is just curious what Celina is up to.
Amala's eyes open and then she nods. "Of course. Cozy. And discreet." She pauses. "Um, I'm meeting someone this evening, so, ah, maybe soon? It's not important to the Shell or the Crown or anything. Just personal." While she drinks the wine, she doesn't seem very interested in the stew.
Merlin focuses on a spot beyond the fireplace, and does not seem to be paying attention to the here or the now.
"I'm about done with my meal," Celina looks for the serving girl and when that person crosses into view, she asks that another bottle of wine be brought. She stays aware of Amala's body language the while.
Celina pushes back her plate when the wine bottle arrives. Now she notices Merlin's distraction and nods to Conner, "See that we hear when the someone arrives." She pushes back her chair. "Your someone? A name for Master Rooker, Amala? We don't wish to make too much of our stay here by asking everyone who enters."
She looks at Master Rooker for a moment, and then nods. "Cassius. His family is with the shell." She turns back to Celina and rises with a barely suppressed smile.
Celina steps away from the table carrying the wine bottle but passes Conner and Merlin to pause and squeeze each on the shoulder. If the girl thinks Celina is communicating, well she is. If the girl thinks the two men are toys--well, she might never learn better.
Master Rooker nods at his instructions. "Cassius." He repeated. "I shall watch for him while you two... speak." Conner places his hand over Celina's and squeezes back.
The stew's flavors caress memory in surprising ways. Celina remembers a winter when she was a young teen and ministering to the veteran injured of the Black Trench conflict. When squeezed shoulders were as much comfort as a young girl could give broken men laid up in healing wards. She never imagined how close the events were to her own future. Rebma and Amber.
Would that girl have ever seduced a stranger to get at the bottom of a mystery? Celina wrinkles her nose a bit. "Come, Amala." She starts the stairs.
Once the ladies have withdrawn, Conner looks to the distant Merlin. "What did you make of that?" He asks.
Merlin is still quite distracted. He blinks, not looking at Conner, and says, "I am sorry, cousin, my mind has been elsewhere."
Conner sighs. For the first time, Conner regrets coming on this. Both Celina and Merlin seem are intent on following currents only they can feel. Still, nothing to do but try and navigate them. He would start with Merlin
"I would argue that your mind is still elsewhere." Conner observes. "What distracts you so?"
"Ambrose?" Merlin says, alarmed, and takes Conner's hand, drawing him into a trump contact.
As they near the room, Celina asks, "Did you have family in the War?"
She nods. "Khrop wasn't large, and we didn't have any heroes, but some fought. Mostly, we supplied the fighters. My brother Tertius went off to fight..." She trails off, not finishing that particular sentence.
"Lir, it still aches near the heart," Celina speaks so softly as to hardly stir a bubble of air. She sees the faces of those men in the healing wards. In particular three who never recovered but passed in between her visits. The men seldom had visitors. Families were far away and often not informed unless the men did not recover.
The hour seems to have pulled a gray cast upon her thoughts. She sets the wine down on the bare and simple sideboard. The idea of drinking more is slightly nauseating.
"So Amala, has Khrop fared better since the War," Celina turns and hitches up onto the sideboard and folds her legs up crosswise under her knees. She believes it probable that Amala will open the wine to cover her nervousness.
Amala does, spilling some and cleaning it quickly.
"Or are things still quite risky for such a small house? I like the way you've done your hair."
Her hand goes to her head. "My hair? It's just curled up with a little seahorse ornament." She smiles, and seems a bit flushed. "We've been shifting to a more seaward current, Lady Celina, and we've been diversifying, but it's risky." There's a flash of silver from the necklace she wears. "I can't even tell Cassius about it."
The room seems to waver with unkind shadows. Celina realizes she is going to break her shoes if her toes keep gripping her soles and releasing with such pressure. "Not even?" She uses her left hand to ease off the travel boots, admiring again the color. Her leg twists a bit, her toes reach and snatch the boot from her hand and lower it to the floor. She hands the second boot to her returning foot and looks at Amala carefully while softly setting the second boot down below her perch.
"Those moves seem sound and well thought out," Celina ponders the undercurrent. "The Seaward has strong trade values even with Rebma inattentive." Amala's hands catch Celina's interest--so fine but they tremble in the uncertain light when not wrapped around the wine glass.
Didn't her own hands tremble the first time in Rebma's famous court? "The Seaward also knows the value of diversity. So I suppose you are trading with someone who might be enemy to Rebma? Come closer." Celina gestures with an extended hand. "Did you know already that Khrop is not friend to the Sapphire throne? Have your elders briefed you thusly? You are in danger."
The Seaward Lass looks into the mirrors of Amala's eyes.
Amala's hand goes to her breast, and she flushes. "Danger? What danger?"
Celina stills as if she has said too much because of course, she has.
A beat, then Celina sees the growing distress in the young girl's eyes. She moves forward, leaving her perch with arms out and around Amala. She gathers the lass to herself. She trembles a bit with the mirrored tensioned created by her words in someone that could have been herself only a year ago.
Celina hugs Amala closely, squeezes her for a few seconds as if Amala were the distant cousin that she hadn't seen since she was six after exchanging locks of hair as keepsakes. She reaches up and entwines her fingers in Amala's hair. The seahorse brooch glimmers close to Celina's eye.
Amala smells of perfumes for her meeting with Cassius. Celina turns her head slightly, the perfume is a fine subtle one that covers any hint of travel weariness. A good choice certainly and money well spent. For just a second, Celina is wishing that rendezvous with dashing young men were what she was thinking about and planning.
She inhales Amala's hair. That would be the life certainly: assignations and scholarly trade.
"The queen likes not the associates of Khrop or how they trade the Seaward. She could put her hand to laying the Shell low. Rebma is rumored to once more be looking this way. Have your elders no voiced concerns?"
The tension runs from the girl. "Concerns of Rebma? No, we are not unaware. We-- I am protected." Her hand reaches inside her blouse, clutching at the talisman suspended from her neck. As she does so, it again flashes a glint of reflected candlelight in the close room.
Celina feels an odd schism. "So Khela has trained other members of the Shell?" She looks to Amala's reaction and not the talisman.
Amala seems as if she's drunk. She isn't focusing clearly and she's not reacting to Celina's word. Nevertheless, her speech is perfectly clear. "Are you looking for her? For you or for the queen?"
Celina squeezes her hands on Amala's shoulders and gives a sorrowful laugh that trails away. "Never for the queen. No. I'd rather hand the Queen my heart still beating and I don't intend to do any such thing." Celina chews her lips before saying softly, "Like you and yours, I've shifted to a more Seaward current. Rebma is dangerous to me as well."
"Stay there overnight," she says, then her eyes return to the here and now. "I think I've had too much wine," she adds.
Blessed sweet water of Lir Celina gathers Amala and sets her upon the edge of the bed. "Indeed, I have led you to be injudicious, Amala. Let me help you rest a bit. I'll wake you when Cassius arrives."
Celina's heart gallops with lust and dread.
If Amala is drunk enough, Celina will massage her shoulders, neck and face until she falls asleep.
She is and is soon asleep. She snores lightly, and then settles, her repose deep and untroubled.
The various noises of the inn murmur and whisper like background surf as Celina examines the necklace talisman. How might mirrorcraft make a puppet of Amala? How much power is invested there? Has Khela combined sorcery with the brightwork?
Outside the locket is mother-of-pearl, opalescent but not reflective. Inside the locket are two mirrors facing each other, and a third lying between them, face up and at a 45 degree angle. The top of the locket is open, so the mirror would reflect the wearer's chin.
| |
| / |
Celina spends a watch (perhaps more unless disturbed by comrades, perhaps less if the GMly feedback reveals naught) seducing Khela's secrets and examining the other jewelry the factor wears.
Nothing is remarkable except the locket. Celina spends some time examining it, and it's clearly some sort of focus for casting spells on the wearer from a distance. There will be another like it, she thinks. And unless she misses her guess, the distance is not great. Someone had to be watching Amala.
(Celina/ooc: certainly within a league then you are suggesting? Or more like within the grounds?)
(If it were Rebma, she would guess inside the city and it's environs. Within the inn is too close, within the boundaries of a hypothetical large city seems about right.)
She arranges Amala's clothes artfully to suggest a slippery slope that the lady will be hard pressed to remember.
If even then there is no word of Cassius or her cousins, she will go downstairs to find Conner and Merlin.
Celina enters with utter lack of drama.
The cook is apparently also the bartender. She's looking at Conner and Merlin, who are holding hands across the table. She smiles as Celina comes in.
Moving to the cook, Celina asks for a drink of something bracing. She eyes Conner and Merlin peripherally to figure out what they are up to.
Conner is speaking conversationally if in a low voice but his focus is not really on Merlin. He gazes into the middle distance and completely misses the entrance of Celina into the room.
And Merlin's back is to Celina, but something about his posture suggests that he's aware that there is someone behind his back.
The barwoman pours a glass of podberry juice. If it's fermented, it could be very strong. It's certainly going to be bracing, unless it's a lot older than it looks.
A fleeting thought tangles with the puzzling over Merlin and Conner confiding in each other so-- Celina looks to the barwoman. "My friend upstairs is expecting a guest. He may decide to stay though I doubt it. Can I have you make up another room?" She taps the purse at her hip. "Even if he doesn't stay, he might rest. It's a good ride up here."
She tilts her head and examines the woman with her third eye.
"Cassius? He usually stays with ... Amala." She pauses, then adds, "Are you feeling alright??
She looks completely normal; neither brighter nor softer than expected, and she has no hot spots.
A soft sigh and Celina relaxes. A disguised Khela already here at the inn would have put their travels in too close a maze to credit, but opening the eyes was never a bad idea. "I'm well, thank you for your asking. Amala gave me a brisk bit of business to consider. My day isn't over yet but I'd like it to be."
She looks over at the men and decides against the liquor though she's sure it would make a fine burn down her channel. Looking back at the barkeep, she nods once. "Thanks."
While Brita and Meg are talking, Merlin continues thinking at Ossian. "How may I help you, cousin?"
Ossian shakes his head and says: "It's not really helping me, rather helping yet another new cousin get her children back." Ossian continues in mind-speak Well, not her physical children, but people she cares about.
Using his voice again, Ossian continues "We happened to see that you talked to Uncle Huon. Is he approachable?"
[OOC: How does a Trump contact with Merlin feel, is it different from other Trump contacts, him being a part chaosian?]
Merlin has a very strange mind, but other than that the contact is normal.
He continues thinking rather than speaking. "Was that you? I did not know you had such sorcery, Ossian." His attention wavers for a moment as something outside draws his attention.
He blinks, focusing on Ossian again, and says aloud, "I am sorry, cousin, my mind has been elsewhere."
Meg watches Ossian carefully for any signs of problems.
She sees Ossian standing there with a card in his left hand, while he seems rather concentrated on the card, he is not totally oblivious to her. He does not look worried, rather a bit amused. He holds out his right hand to her, while saying to the card: "Well, actually, I did not do the sorcery. We were scouting Abford before returning there by Trump, and you happened to be there. The sorcery was performed by a cousin you might not like, -Ambrose.
"He has switched sides."
Meg doesn't take his hand and stays out of the contact. She finds herself a hefty candlestick and places it within reach. Then she returns to watching.
Merlin's mind is a chaotic symphony of fear and disbelief. "Ambrose?" he says, alarmed, and suddenly Conner is in the contact.
"Hello Ossian." Conner nods to the artist. "So what's this about Ambrose?"
Ossian's smile gets a little bit colder. "He's here together with your sister. They are helping in gathering cousin Meg's family after Uncle Huon's invasion."
Merlin explains to Conner inside the contact, "They scried on us while we were speaking with Huon. This was some time ago. I did not know who was watching, and so was wary."
"A wise precaution." Conner nods and then returns his attention to Ossian. "I got to listen in on Brita talking with some craft masters about Huon's rifles but didn't get a chance to get the full story. How stands things in Abford?"
Meg maintains her vigil.
"They are celebrating Huon's invasion." Ossian snorts "he seems to have made an impression. Many young men followed him - we want to bring one of them back. But Abford stands for the moment, although I don't know how they will react when they find out that Huon will not come back."
Meg pulls her lips tight shut.
Merlin says, "Huon did not believe he would return for one of their generations. He made some alterations to the local political structure in the shadow, but he believed there would be war. One-sided, he said. Huon's army may not be safe, but the place you would return this young man to may not be any safer."
"Ok." Ossian sighs.
"Meg, you need to hear this." he continues with an edge to his voice. He once again stretches out his hand to Meg.
Meg takes his hand. "What's wrong?"
Merlin blinks owlishly as Meg joins the contact. "Hello, cousin. I do not know that anything is wrong, but I believe Ossian expects you to dislike the news that I have reported."
Meg snorts. "He's learning. I've disliked all the other news since this mess started." She smiles. "It's good to meet you," she says to Merlin, "and you as well," she glances at Conner. "So what's Huon done?"
Ossian almost laughs at that first sentence, then becomes somber again. "Huon thinks there will be a new war in Abford."
Merlin explains, "He has left the Renedaic League with guns, which he expects to allow them to conquer everything meaningful in your shadow within a generation. I believe this is an overestimate of the power of firearms, but I do agree that the political power structure has been permanently altered."
Meg draws herself up and her face goes still. "Did he say what he meant by the Renedaic League? Because there's Renady, which is a kingdom, and the League of Free Cities. It would be useful to know if we're likely to be attacked, or the attackers. Or is that just the casual mangling of nations that must be second nature..." Meg's voice rises and she turns away from Ossian and the trump contact, while holding Ossian's hand. "...To Goddess-cursed, bastard, kidnapping, demi-god, invading vandals?" she continues rising to a shout.
She shuts her eyes, takes a deep breath and turns back. "I'm sorry," she apologises. "I'm angry. He's stolen my son, blithely reshaped my home, and I haven't yet worked out how to crush him like a bug. It's frustrating."
Ossian smiles a little; likely he does not agree with all of Meg's opinions. "So... We decided that our first priority was getting your family safe. " he pauses "But this upcoming war might mean that they are not safer here than in Huon's army. On the other hand, how many of Bleys's army survived his and Corwin's attack on Amber back in the day?"
"Amber is hardly as strong as it was back in the day especially if Huon can bring artillery to bear." Conner notes. "Still, I'm no actuary. Besides speculation on his relative survival rates is immaterial. I suspect Meg will not be satisfied until her son is at her side." Conner smiles at her.
"I do not know enough about the shadow to make any political determinations," Merlin says. "I did not plan to stay and it seemed that Huon had already claimed the shadow. Uncles can be a bit--possessive--about places that are theirs." Ossian can sense Merlin's concern through the connection.
"We should be able to find out who has guns quite easily. Soldiers will use new toys." Ossian smiles wryly "So you think Huon has 'claimed' this shadow? That would be bad news, Meg."
"What do you mean 'claimed?'" Meg asks. "It's a world full of people, it's not something one can claim. Certainly not by wandering in and spending a month there."
"It is a shadow," Merlin replies. "If he has decided it is his, and means to keep it, he will deal harshly with those who contest his claim."
"Does your world not have kings and armies, Meg?" Conner asks semi-seriously. "I assure you that just as an invading army could march in and claim your lands in a month so to can Huon and those of our blood claim a world and by more subtle and effective means than armed soldiers. Of course that means you could in theory challenge the claim but as Merlin rightly points out that means challenging Huon."
"Well, he did not plan to come back for a generation or so, did he?" Ossian says.
"Depending on the outcome of his campaign he may not return at all." Conner adds with a shrug. "Abford seems to be a relative calm point for the nonce all things considered. Better to worry about his current plans and whatever people and things you need to get out of harm's way."
The anger on Meg's face has not gone away, but does not erupt again immediately. She nods at her cousins' words.
"Did he say anything about why he might be headed to Rebma?"
Merlin shakes his head slightly. "Just that he might go there on his way to deal with some personal business."
Conner has nothing to add and simply listens.
Ossian shrugs "Ok. We know a lot more than before. I think."
"Do you think I and Meg would survive a meeting with Huon? Would he be likely to release Meg's son from duty?"
Meg waits for Merlin's answer to this.
Merlin shrugs. "I see no reason why he would not, if the young man wished to be released."
Meg shifts the topic slightly. "Will you be seeing Celina soon?"
"I will. Do you have a message for her?" Merlin asks warily.
Ambrose and Brita join Meg and Ossian in the room. Ambrose closes the door behind them.
Meg glances at them as they come in, and smiles. She looks back at Merlin and Conner.
"I believe Huon gave her a bracelet set with dark pearls," she explains carefully. "It was left in Abford by whoever left me here, likely my parent or someone who knows them. If it provokes any interesting reactions in anyone, I should be keen to hear about it, and if it provokes any negative reactions, I should not like any harm to come to any of you because of it."
Ossian raises an eyebrow, but stays quiet to hear Merlin's answer.
The raised eyebrow is mimicked by Brita, although she makes no move to join in the Trump to hear the answer.
"Thank you for warning me. I will certainly tell her, and watch for anyone who appears to recognize the bracelet." Merlin's expression is closed, but Ossian can clearly sense his concern behind it.
Ossian closes the connection with a polite word to Conner and Merlin, thanking them for the advice.
Last modified: 23 January 2007