Brennan breaks away from Bleys and Conner, locates Regenlief, and draws her aside by means of eye contact. However Bleys' privacy sorcery works, Brennan's is a fundamental working of entropy, destroying the information of their words more than an arms length away.
"We're speaking privately," Brennan says. "The others can't hear us unless Bleys or Conner are interfering. Bleys brings news, and a summons that neither Conner nor I can ignore. King Random of Xanadu-- my father's half-brother-- will announce the impending arrival of a new heir to the throne, at a public event, a celebration or gala of some sort, I expect. Attendance of his brothers and sisters, nephews and nieces and a few select others is not optional, it is mandatory. In this scheme, our son is considered a nephew. If I had my preferences, we would deal expediently with Moire, and then Ossian and you and I could find our footing privately. This gathering is to be very public and very political-- I would not bring you there unaware, unprepared, or unwilling. Nor, though, would I delay the first face to face to face meeting with you and I and Ossian. I will support you in this decision: If you wish to come back to Xanadu with us, please be welcome as my guest; otherwise, I will talk to our son privately.
"But these things may inform your decision:
"First, the public event tonight will be followed by a private event tomorrow morning for the King's Mandatories. I have no authority to extend that invitation. After that morning conclave we should be free to return.
"Second, Ossian has told me something of the Klybesians' part in all this, and I am a fool for not having understood it earlier. Anger toward the Klybesians runs hot in the Family, right now-- or cold, according to our natures," and Brennan's voice is gravelly with what might well be ice chips as he says that. There is no doubt where Brennan's temperament lies in this regard. "That will almost certainly be a topic at the morning conclave. I don't know how far news of their involvement in Ossian's history has spread, or yours. It was my hope to settle these matters between the three of us privately. But you may well find Family asking questions about it.
"Third, I need someone to watch Ramjollock and his men for the day we are gone, to keep them from declaring war on Avalon or something equally self-destructive. Feel no pressure: Firumbras can do this. But it is yours to decline."
"I was wondering when we were going to have this discussion," Regenlief says, a bit drily. "I was hoping we'd have a chance to talk before we arrived at this--I was expecting a battle. I suppose where you’re going is one, even if it's fought with words instead of swords and shields." She expertly flips the spear she's currently carrying, landing the butt end on the floor. It's hard for Brennan to read her at this distance in time and space, but he guesses she might be considering her words, or perhaps her questions, carefully. "Is the goddess known as Fiona going to be at this meeting in Xanadu?"
"At a time less thick with Maghee warlords and skogen, was my hope," Brennan says. "I expect it was something of a gift from Corwin, putting us together away from most of the Family for a time to do just this, but no one could have predicted the timing of an heir.
"To answer your question: Yes, I assume so. I expect this will be as large or larger a gathering of the Family than the King's coronation. It's not supposed to be a battle, but it may end up as a gauntlet. Although at the coronation, two of my cousins and my brother declared war on the rest of us." He shrugs, stoically. "Good times. The brother is rehabilitated, at least."
Regenlief doesn't say 'I didn't know you had a brother' but Brennan might guess she's thinking it. "His good fortune pleases me, especially given my own situation. I'll go," she says. "I don't want to put this off any longer than I have to. I'm ready to go to war against the eye in the pyramid. And when I kill them, none will go to Valhalla." She smiles grimly. "Not that there is one anymore, not since Ragnarok and the remaking of the worlds. But if there were, I'd send them straight to Hel."
Brennan infers her meaning from her expression: "I didn't even know I had a brother, until that day. Hell of a way to make an introduction. I didn't know Ossian was my son until much later. All right, here's the plan: We'll settle Firumbras into his new and temporary responsibilities, explain to the Maghee what's happening, and accompany Bleys and Conner back to Xanadu. From there, we'll find our son, and talk." From his own impression, he caught that reference to 'her own situation,' which should be included in the list of future conversations.
Brennan drops the sorcerous spell of interdiction around them and walks back to Conner and Bleys, presumably with Regenlief although she could elect to stay apart for some reason.
She agrees and returns with him to the others.
Once back with Conner and Bleys, Brennan calls Firumbras and Ramjollock over to them to explain what's happening: "Our uncle brings us news from Xanadu, and a summons that cannot be denied. Conner, Regenlief and I will be departing shortly, returning tomorrow morning. Sir Firumbras, I would like you to remain here and advise the new Ard Righ."
Firumbras nods slowly, his beard sliding up and down his breastplate. "An thou does ask, I shall so do. Pray, tell King C- my King where I am."
Ramjollock looks him over. "We can discuss the Fir Bolg, and other ancient peoples of our land. My lookouts have sighted sails, but they fly our colors. We should have more troops 'ere your return, Sir Brennan. Will you be bringing more demons with you then? We would meet any such who came to our lands..."
"Thank you, Sir Firumbras. Of course I will bear your message to the King," Brennan says. Then, turning back to Ramjollock: "That's not the plan, but anything is possible. Perhaps additional Knights of my order, though." It would be good to have Dignity back as counsel, or a few of the Knights he knows less well.
"In the mean time, I have some very forceful suggestions to make," which Brennan is clearly expecting Sir Firumbras to take as somewhere between an instruction and a command... as close to a command as he's comfortable with, actually. "First, if-- more likely when-- the Protector's forces show up to investigate, do everything in your power to avoid battle. Parley at all cost, parley in mine and Conner's name if need be, but parley. Second, try not to leave the island. Which is only good sense if you've more forces approaching," which Brennan devoutly hopes is true, "but also because it will simplify rejoining you tomorrow."
The Ard Righ nods, solemnly. "We have been gone long enough, and hope to stay, peacefully, for some time. But I think you for your advice, my friend demon."
"Ard Righ," Brennan continues, "I ask that you listen to Sir Firumbras' counsel if he should have cause to give it. He is a seasoned and experienced leader, and has valuable insights into this conflict."
Bleys has a quick word with Sir Firumbras. "I'd prefer that stay above ground, if possible, but don't get yourself killed over it."
The Prince pulls out two trumps, one mostly consisting of a mass of flame-colored hair surrounding the face of his daughter, and the other the courtyard of Xanadu's keep.
He stares at each for a second before putting Paige's trump away. "Best to come in by the front gate, so they can count us on their scorecards." He reaches out to Conner and Brennan, and in a scintillating rainbow flash of light, The tower of Tara disappears and the grand castle of Xanadu is before them.
Bleys squints at the sun. "It appears that today, at least, we shall be morning people. Shall we?"
"Any time of day that brings coffee and bacon is welcomed by me." Conner replies easily. "I wonder who else has arrived."
"I wonder who wasn't invited and who will claim to be too busy," Brennan says with some cynical, if wearied amusement.
Bleys nods. "Yes, that's the game to watch. Take some time to talk to people and get a feel for the city, if you haven't been here yet, nephews. You are seeing something none of us recall, which is the birth of a new kingdom. In a generation or two, this will be different, so it's worth seeing how it is born..."
"Welcome to Xanadu," [Brennan] says to Regenlief.
She smiles and gives a brief bow. "Thank you, Sir Brennan. I expect to learn quite a bit, seeing you in your native environment. Is it always so hot here?"
He answers Bleys' question by beginning to make his way to the front gates. "Anything else we should know, before we part ways, Bleys? If Ossian isn't already here, I trust he will be shortly."
Bleys heads for the side of the castle, "Can't think of a thing, but that doesn't mean there's naught that I am unaware of. If your son is in the kitchen, I'll let him know you’re here."
As in many situations, Conner likes the way Bleys thinks and follows him to Xanadu's kitchens.
Unless there's a reason not to, Brennan goes through the gates and enters the castle, announcing Regenlief as his guest.
A functionary writes her name down. Or some phonetic equivalent, perhaps. "Very good, Sir Brennan. Will your guest be requiring her own quarters or will she be staying with you?"
Brennan's true native environment is at the top of a step pyramid looking down at human sacrifices and beating hearts. He favors the undiplomatic functionary with a long, cold glance in that mode before answering, "She requires her own quarters, as befitting an honored guest of the Court." If he has the distinct impression that Brennan just committed his face to memory, so much the better. Because he has. If they need time to figure out exactly where her quarters will be, Brennan doesn't bother to wait, it's their job to make appropriate arrangements and catch up to them. He does commandeer a page, though, to handle a few things on the way to their destination, which is a small sitting room in the castle proper. Small enough to feel something on the order of cozy when three people are there, high enough to afford a decent view and-- because this is Xanadu-- stocked with a bar.
The course they take from the city gates to the castle is mostly direct, with only a few quick diversions that don't take them too far out of their way. He lets the page fill them both in on the recent events of the place, though it will doubtless make more sense to Brennan than to Regenlief. When he hears about Edan's new order of Knights, he smiles broadly. As they reach the castle itself, he sends the page off with a number of assignments. None of Brennan's irritation with the first functionary rubs off on the page, of course.
First and foremost, he dictates a message to King Random and Queen Vialle offering them congratulations on their splendid news, and delicately announcing the arrival of Regenlief to the court. Brennan has no illusions, here-- Random won't read it before the evening event. But it is proper, so he dictates it and has it sent. There is exactly zero upside to surprising anyone with Regenlief, much less dong something that could be interpreted as upstaging, so he has a copy sent to Gilt, as well.
The page is already visibly calculating how many extra pages he’s goi ng to need for this.
Second, he sends a less formal message to Edan, welcoming him to the club, and warning him to expect some insufferably formal communique from Order to Order later on. That, in turn, brings up the subject of the his own Knights. Each and every Knight of the Order of the Ruby present in the city receives notice that they are to show up to the public event in full and proper formals with smile on their faces. Slop slides downhill and if it's mandatory for Brennan, it is mandatory for his Knights. Doubly so to demonstrate that they welcome the arrival of a new Order of Knights.
Third, and still on the subject of his own Order, he has notice sent to the following subset of the Knights that they should be packed and ready to depart by tomorrow morning: Dame Patience, and Sir Crescent, who were Brennan's candidates for Knighthood after Patternfall. Sir Pebble, and Sir Ember, who were Aisling's and Lilly's, respectively. If Jovian's Knights are still with the order, he will add Sir M'Hall. If Dignity is in Xanadu, he is on the list as well. Relatedly, a note to Sir Marius with the appropriate greetings to his Brother Knight-Commander, inquiring after the availability of Dame Jennet for Order business.
Fourth, arrange an appointment for Regenlief with Brita's seamstress later in the day, as the best way to get Regenlief something appropriate to her station as a Valkyrie and to the Court as a whole.
Regenlief is duly appreciative.
Fifth, find Ossian if he is in Xanadu and tell him that Brennan wants to see him in the sitting room to which they are heading.
Sixth, and finally, perform whatever secret handshake the pages do during times like this, to let the rest of the Family know he is here and will be available... he judges the angle of the sun... some time after lunch, several hours from now.
And then, by the time they reach the sitting room he sends the page off on his way to deliver all those messages, leaving he and Regenlief alone. He ushers her inside, gestures that she should sit and be comfortable if she isn't heading in that direction already, hopes that the bar has a bottle of Akvavit, and pours two glasses of it before coming back over to Regenlief. "Skal," he says, draining his. He sits, and there's something in his affect of a very heavy man settling in a chair he knows is solid and sturdy, despite his spare, swimmer's-body physique. "It's good to see you again, Regenlief. I know you have questions. You deserve answers, and I'll give them to you, but I have one for you, and it's not as facetious as it sounds: How long has it been since we saw each other last? I make it as something like sixty years, maybe seventy, and I ask because time runs strangely from place to place. I spent a few days away from Weyland's Tower, once, and returned to find generations had passed, and I've spent some 'time' in places even stranger than that. Our answers will be the same only by luck. Then... tell me where you want me to start. Family history? Personal history?" Something else?
"Skal," Regenlief agrees, and downs her shot, flipping the glass and landing it on the table hard enough that, were it not real, she probably would have broken it. She’s eyeing the giraffe decorations and the high ceilings of the room like she’s wondering what she got into here.
"It's been a long time for me, too. Decades. At a certain point you stop counting years; after Ragnarok, they don't mean as much. But sixty or seventy at least, probably more than a hundred." Regenlief shrugs. It's not a matter of much moment to her. "My first question is what, if anything, they told you about what I've been doing, actually, and where they ran into me."
"Works both ways," Brennan muses at the shot glass. "Anyone under a century is still just a kid, unless proven otherwise. Ossian himself is... something like thirty.
"But the only 'they' that could have told me the tale is Ossian himself. I understand that your meeting with Ossian was connected with the recovery of my cousin Reid's body from the Klybesian Order. He mentioned a place named Greenwood, but the way he told the story made me think that's not where you were met. So I know what Ossian was doing in the area, but not what you were. I'd very much like to know, since I'm sure it involves the Klybesian Order somehow." Brennan does not voice his suspicion that it involved sending a lot of Klybesians to cold, unmarked graves.
This is when Ossian knocks on the door.
Regenlief lets Brennan let whoever it is in. When she realizes it's Ossian, she smiles by way of greeting.
"Father..." he says before noticing Regenlief "Oh, so we are having a family gathering?" Then he sees the bottle of Akvavit. "Oh. That kind of gathering. Better fill up then." He pours a glass for himself, before offering to refill his parents' glasses.
Regenlief takes the refill, though she doesn't toss it back the way she did the first one.
Brennan welcome Ossian and gestures him to sit. Barring emergencies or meddling Elders, they should be undisturbed for the morning.
He nurses his own refill-- they do all have a state function to attend later that day, Amberite constitutions or not.
"Brennan and I were about to tell family stories. About what I was doing when I met you, which, by the way, he was pointing a weapon at me. I was inspecting a burned out caravan."
Brennan gives Regenlief a wry smile at that, as if to say, which side of the family does he get that from?
"We were near Clervaux, which had been an old stronghold of the White Brothers--a branch of the Klybesians. I was looking for information about what had happened there to build into the larger puzzle. I still don't know who that caravan belonged to, or who attacked it."
"Clervaux," Brennan says. "The place has come up in conversation, but I know almost nothing about it. I gather this is where Reid's body was recovered? How did you separately come to be there?" he asks.
Ossian frowns. "I was looking for Reid. So the Pattern led me there. Their story is that he was with that caravan."
"From what I remember, the burned out caravan was older than that. But time runs strangely in some of those older shadows, especially since Ragnarok, and Clervaux is older than many." Regenlief is pragmatic, and moves on from that quickly. "The name had come up in my broader investigations of the Klybesians. It took me a long time to find a shadow path that led there, especially with all the changes from the aftermath of the Black Road and the rest of the end of the universe."
"Clervaux is a place we clearly need to know more about," Brennan says. "I know it's connected to Reid, somehow, but I haven't been able to figure out if it's where his mother, Pastoral, is from, and it was supposedly Pastoral who brought the Klybesians to Amber, back in the day. There was apparently some scandal about Pastoral-- I've heard she was from Amber rather than Shadow. No one seems to remember that far back-- not clearly, anyway." Most of that is for Regenlief's benefit.
"But this talk about Shadow Paths reminds me, Ossian, you made it sound as though that Klybesian outposts are connected by Shadow paths. Did I understand that correctly? And where did the one that led you to Clervaux start, Regenlief? If they have access to shadow paths, then a big part of crushing them may be understanding that network. It's not exactly the artistry of making Trumps, but how do you feel about the cartography of shadow paths?"
"It could be done. Although I think Bleys' equations might be needed. I don't know how many paths they have, but they surely have some. And as we learned just a few hours back, a shadow crossing computer network." Ossian coughs. "Yes."
The term 'computer network' is clearly somewhat alien to Regenlief, but it seems to carry significance to the other two, so she lets it go by for now and shrugs to Brennan’s question.
"I was in Clervaux because I was looking for the old outposts of the Klybesians. I've been acting against them for some years, for personal reasons." She glances at Ossian, then back at Brennan. "They stole my child. Ultimately I was looking for information about him--about you, Ossian--but in the meantime I was foiling their plans on general principle."
Brennan nods long before Regenlief finishes speaking. Almost before she starts speaking, even. That Regenlief was in Clervaux on a mission of vengeance is the very opposite of a surprise to Brennan.
"But how did you get there, is the question. Here's why it's important: What sets the Family of Amber apart from all others is our ability to move through Shadow by desire. What we often forget," he glances at Ossian, "is that others know of and can move through Shadow as well. Just not as easily and often constrained by paths that already exist. This is a failure of vision that afflicts many in the Family: they don't often worry about the details of their opponents' constraints. Here is what we think we know-- what we believe-- about their constraints: That they move by existing Shadow paths." Brennan nods almost to himself, and continues. This is the Ramble that Regenlief knew of old: focused on a goal, though perhaps from an unconventional angle. "To fully understand and USE that constraint, we need to know more about those paths. That they've set up a way to communicate along them by computer network," for Regenlief's benefit, "tells me they are important, and probably not new. So the question of what path took you to Clervaux is important.
"But this bothers me for another reason. As you say, Regenlief, Ragnarok should have disrupted all those paths. In fact, we know it disrupted many. This should have crippled and isolated the Klybesians just as a side effect, but here they are using Shadow paths and building infrastructure along them." He shakes his head. "Ossian, you say they have at least one sorcerer-- I assume you mean a true Sorcerer-- in their ranks as well. I've hinted at this before, but I'll say it plainly now: You may not be the first or the last child taken by them."
Ossian nods. "I think a true Sorcerer, yes, although I'm not completely certain. Probably more than one too."
Then he pauses for a brief second, looking at his father "We did not have time to investigate, but I think it would be a mistake to assume that the computer network follows the Shadow Paths, when they have sorcery, and interest in Trumps, as far as I understand it."
Regenlief has been parsing the discussion, both Brennan's direct explanation and the elaboration with Ossian, and by the time they come back around to her, she, too is nodding. "You want the rutter," she says, and it's not a question. "The rutter I stole from them. When we're done with the meeting here, we can go get it."
"That sounds good" Ossian says, looking a bit perplexed "Silhouette could probably learn a lot from it.
"I wonder if we could date the Shadow Paths relative to Ragnarok. I guess someone could. Maybe Jerod."
Brennan looks at Regenlief with a deeply malicious gleam in his eyes: "You stole a rutter from them," he says. It's not a question, either. "Yes, yes I think we'd like to see that. Have you read it? When we go get it, where will we be going?"
"Reme," Regenlief says. "Because I knew where to store it safely there. And I've deciphered parts of it; it's complicated. Between what I already knew and what I could figure out from the rutter, I've gotten leads on a number of old Klybesian sites. How old they are--the sites or the paths--I can't say," she adds by way of answering Ossian's question. “But the sites at least are old."
"Jerod's a good candidate," Brennan says to Ossian. "So are Conner and Marius. They've all been involved in the navy, which has its own tradition of navigating and maintaining paths like these. They can probably say a lot about using them and detecting them. So can I, from a different angle-- I can show you how to detect the Faiella-Bionin, if there's time, which I think will be similar. The trick-- which quite possibly no one knows because it's never been important-- will be how to tell old from new."
Ossian nods. "My distinct impression is that someone laid those paths. Which makes the matter very delicate."
Then to Regenlief, "Reme, you say. Is Reme contained in this rutter, as far as you know?" Brennan asks as he finishes the last of his glass.
"Most of the important places are in this rutter, but Reme is a crossroads, so it gets more and less attention than most. More because you can reach places from a crossroads; less because everyone knows where it is already. I don't think they'll have found the rutter, though. I had a fine and secret place to hide it." The sharp smile on Regenlief's face looks almost smug.
Brennan gives Regenlief a suspicious look, but not at all an unfriendly one. He may have been the object of that smugness before and come to respect it.
"Good to know," Brennan says, "but that wasn't what I was worried about. Reme is the first place I went after I escaped from Brand." Brennan still does not readily use the word 'father' or describe his actions as 'running away.' He continues: "I've been trying to figure out how they knew of me, and for how long, which is challenging because I'd never even heard of them until recently. Now I'm thinking I may have spent twenty, thirty-odd years laying low right in the shadow of the Order itself." This thought evidently does not please him. "It doesn't explain everything, but it does explain a bit.
"What Ossian says is right, though," Brennan says. "This is delicate, personally and operationally. Given that a great number of people are and will be invested in hunting these people down, how are you on sharing this information?" It's pretty obvious Brennan has some thoughts on the matter, but wants to hear both Regenlief's and Ossian's first.
"It takes more than one Valkyrie to bear the heroes of an army," Regenlief says, seemingly resigned, but she looks to Ossian for his answer.
Ossian nods. "That we are hunting the Klybesians is well known of course. We probably need to involve more people. And let them know the details. But who to trust? I suggested Jerod because I trust him on issues like this despite our differences."
"Who's Jerod?" Regenlief asks, looking to both Brennan and Ossian for an answer.
Brennan, who had been collecting his thoughts to figure out the tangle of who and how and when they should share this information out, is quite grateful for a simple question with a simple answer, even if it's only the tip of an oncoming iceberg.
"Short answer: He's my cousin, and my friend. Longer answer: Jerod is a Prince of Amber by virtue of having been Eric's son during the brief period Eric was King of Amber. I never knew Eric," Brennan says. "I came to Amber too late for that.
"Longest answer is embedded in the capsule summary of the Family, and it touches on something I wanted to ask anyway. Oberon had a lot of wives and lovers over the centuries. Memory currently runs as far back as Cymnea, who bore Osric, Finndo, and Benedict. Osric sired Reid and Cneve. Benedict sired Lilly, Fletcher, and... a confusing array of relatives on the far side of the Tree. Finndo, though. Finndo sired a confusing array of relatives on this side of the tree including supposedly the line of Asgard. It may be very important later to know if you descend from that line-- I think the right name would be 'Bestla,' Finndo's daughter.
"After Cymnea came Faiella, who bore Eric, Corwin, Caine and Deirdre. Eric was briefly King of Amber, making his children Prince Jerod and Princess Cambina." His face falls despite his best efforts and he decides not to say anything more about that just now. "Corwin sired Celina who is Queen of Rebma for entirely different reasons, and Prince Merlin. Caine sired no one we know of, and Deirdre bore Signy and Marius."
Brennan leaves off the narrative for Ossian to pick up as he chooses.
Ossian nods. "Bear in mind that the time is complicated, so the order of things is...confusing. So Oberon married Clarissa. A woman from chaos. She's still alive last I heard." Ossian glances at Brennan.
Brennan nods.
"From Oberon and Clarissa comes the redheads. Fiona, Bleys and Brand. As far as I know Brand was quite a bit younger than the other two. Fiona has a daughter, Brita with one of the Asgardian Gods, and a son, Conner. Bleys has Paige and Edan. The Klybesians are in Edan’s home shadow, by the way.
"And Brand's children are Brennan and Ambrose." Ossian adds with a shrug. "Brand is commonly known as causing Ragnarok."
"You left out my half-sister Chantico," Brennan says, while Regenlief is mulling that over. "Not really Family, yet, and not to be trusted."
Regenlief's eyebrows rise a little for a moment while she processes those last statements. She looks at Brennan in a way that he can easily read as "we're not finished with this discussion" but instead of saying anything, she nods.
Brennan nods: He's not avoiding, but he is trying to stay on a topic.
Ossian raises an eyebrow, but leaves the Aunt for now. Regenlief does not need the "I have an AUNT?!" discussion.
"So your father is the Loki of Amber, is what you're telling me," she says to Brennan. "Which is why it's important to find a kinsman you actually trust to help us with the rutter." She's condensing a lot of information in short words but she clearly expects both Brennan and Ossian to take the connective leaps with her.
Brennan nods, "Yes, basically. Given everything that's happened, we need people who can be trusted to put the good of Amber-- or now, the good of the Realms-- above personal self-interest.
"To finish the family introduction course, since you'll be meeting many of these people tonight: Between Bleys and Brand is Llewella, born of Moins," Brennan mugs at that to indicate it's a sore spot in many quarters. "Llewella's daughter Khela was briefly Queen of Rebma. She was also a good friend, and would have been on the short list. After Brand: Flora, born by Dybele. Her son Lucas is dead, but her daughter Silhouette is alive. After that, Huon the little bastard," Brennan says with evident contempt. "But his daughter Folly is good people, as they say. Then Julian, Gerard and Ysabeau were born by Rilga. Julian's children Daeon, and Dione, are dead, his daughter Robin lives, and his son Jovian is... away. Gerard's children are Solange and Vere. And last, Paulette bore Random, currently King of Xanadu and head of the Family, as well as Mirelle who is dead. Random's sons are the Princes Martin and Garrett."
Brennan blows out a lungful of air. "We're leaving out a tangled mess in the Courts of Chaos, most of whom are unreliable at best, hostile at worst. A few folks of Ossian's generation or beyond, especially children," he shrugs. "It gets complicated. But of all that, the ones I'm sure Ossian and I will agree on are Jerod and Folly. Chantico and most of the ones from Chaos are right out."
He looks to Ossian for his opinions now that the cousins are on the table, so to speak.
"Worse than Odin's high hall. At least these all sound like they're human and not--" Regenlief considers that and finished "--eight-legged steeds. At least not in the Amber side relations. Whom I assume I'll be meeting during this gathering" But she, too, looks to Ossian for his judgement on which of the cousins are reliable.
Ossian nods. "And we must not confuse trust with liking. Silhouette is already deeply involved in this mess, so I suggest we include her. What about Brita? She's trustworthy, but maybe too trusting in other relatives?"
Brennan tries, and probably fails, to avoid making a face at the mention of Silhouette.
A face that Regenlief doesn't miss, but also files under "later".
"Brita was close to Reid, too, don't forget. He was her other mentor," Brennan explains to Regenlief. "What's this about the Klybesians being in Edan's shadows, though? Does Edan know? I'll be meeting him this afternoon to see what his new Order of Knights is about."
"I came straight here, haven't had time to talk with Edan. But he needs to know. I and Silhouette were actually looking for enemies of the Klybesians. Instead we found monks posing as science clerics. Unless I am totally mistaken this was at least very close to Edan’s home." Ossian looks angry.
"We investigated, but they found us... where we were not supposed to go. I hope I did not wreck the place too much when we fled.
"Where this places Edan, I do not know."
Regenlief not having a lot to add, she mostly listens and nods in the appropriate places. But she does comment, "They use technology to buy themselves tolerance and into the ruling classes in Shadows where they think it benefits them. I've seen it before."
"I'm not exactly sure what Edan's standing was in his home Shadow," Brennan says, "but I'd assume he was in some position of authority. And here in Xanadu, his position is now about the same as mine: He's the commander of an order of Knights created by the King, which speaks to a certain formalized trust. Recently formalized trust, without the added distraction of being Brand's son."
"At the very damn least, we owe him the information that the Klybesians have been snooping around his old home, and the methods they often employ," he nods to Regenlief in thanks. "I think I am now in favor of adding him to the rutter list, as well. Was there anything in particular made you think it was Edan's old home?"
Ossian looks into his fathers eyes calmly "I think we should add him, yes. But when you talk with him this afternoon, judge his reactions closely.
"As to why I think it is Edan's place. We talked to people there. They are formally ruled by an absent Sultan, a wielder of fire magic from the southern deserts, and a follower of 'The Merciful One'. Sounds very much like Edan to me, or a Shadow of him. He overthrew an 'Amir of Guthium', as I understand it.
"Of course, I could sketch a few places, like old buildings and such from memory, if he needs more.
"And that the Klybesians were there makes it even more plausible.
"So that's some people to trust, then. Or at least involve. Is there anyone we should work hard to keep out?" Then Ossian grins "Except that Aunt, you haven't told me about."
Regenlief glances back to Brennan because this is more interesting than debating whether someone she doesn’t know is responsible for a Shadow she hasn’t been to.
Brennan looks more than a little surprised at Ossian's question. "I thought you knew about her," he says. "She's not a secret, per se, but even though she's Brand's daughter, she's not Family." The capitalization is intentionally obvious so that Regenlief should be able to understand that there is a distinction, even if the specifics are unstated.
"Brand may be similar to Loki metaphorically, but he took up residence in Uxmal a long time ago and put himself at the top of their pyramidal hierarchy of gods in a very literal fashion." He glances at Regenlief to see if she's familiar with Uxmal at all. "His high priestess is my mother and Ambrose's mother. In between those is Chantico, the daughter of some local goddess or other-- I'm not sure which and I've never been motivated to find out." Brennan's contempt for the divinities of Uxmal is comprehensive. "She's a few centuries younger than I am, a few older than Ambrose. I met her, so to speak, during a trip to Uxmal with Ambrose, during which time she tried to kill both of us. She's tried to kill Edan and Lilly at least once, too, and I hear from Conner that she's been seen with-- probably working with-- Dara."
He scrubs a hand through his hair and adds for Regenlief's benefit, "Chantico is violent and dangerous but is-- or at least was-- uneducated, and has no personal argument with anyone who hasn't crossed her personally. Ambrose and I do that simply by existing. Dara, though. Dara is one of the confusing muddle of Benedict's descent, and she is hostile and extremely dangerous. The two cousins and a brother who declared war on Amber? She was the instigating cousin. The other one's her 'brother' cleph, who would be very dangerous if he were more clever than a brick. Those two are lords of Chaos," he says, almost as an afterthought.
"I will try to stay clear of her." Ossian says solemnly. "We haven't heard any signs of the Klybesians being in Uxmal, have we?
"As for Loki, I do not know if he and Brand are the same, but my understanding is that Ragnarok is one manifestation of the Black Road?"
"Ragnarok was predicted by the Norns. The fact that it carried across Shadow and seems to have destroyed everything in its wake, even if it made new things, says it was related to something of Amber, if the stories the Klybesians tell have a grain of truth to them," Regenlief opines.
"I haven't heard anything about Klybesians in Uxmal, but in the brief time I lived there I hadn't heard of them and wouldn't recognize them. I haven't had a chance to ask Ambrose since all this new information came to light," Brennan says to Ossian. "One of us should."
"Definitely. You or I?"
Brennan shrugs-- either way.
"As for the Klybesians, I don't know what they say about much of anything, so I'll just tell you what happened. Ossian knows most of this already, but if there's something that fell in the cracks-- like Chantico-- it's not intentional, so ask," Brennan says. He obviously doesn't believe in burying the lede, either: "Brand wanted to destroy all of creation and replace it with something more to his liking, something with him in charge of everything. He very nearly succeeded.
"The first scheme he came up with, as far as I know, required my death as the instrument of that destruction. It is why I exist. I heard some hints of it a little after my fourteenth winter, spent some time piecing things together, and was gone before my fifteenth." Brennan has had a long time to internalize that. Long enough that he can say it calmly, but not so long that he can say it matter-of-factly. He doesn't even realize that he's wearing the expression from which all his scowls, frowns, and grimaces descend.
"Brand was unstable. During the worst times, it was easier to believe than you might expect. But on the best time he was more charming than I can describe. If I had fled to Amber and presented myself before Oberon-- I thought-- the risk was high that I'd end up sent back to Brand. My grandmother might have believed me, but I had no way of reaching her. I ended up in Reme, undetected and n-tracked... I thought. No one came looking for me, no one obviously from the Family disturbed me. I spent some decades in Reme learning the very first things I thought I would need to know to some day end Brand entirely-- the rudiments of how to fight and how to survive. But after a long career as a Reman lawyer-at-arms under a false name, it became clear that had stopped aging. I had outgrown the place anyway, but eternal youth was drawing more attention than I wanted," Brennan says.
"I spent some time wandering and exploring. Some time trying, and failing, to reach my grandmother's Court in Chaos. A lot of time attaching myself under false names to various armies in Shadow that could teach me other things I needed-- strategy, tactics, how to lead, when to press the attack, when to harden the defenses. How to infer goals from movement, when to trade time for space, how to conceal my intent. How and when to change the rules of the game. When to cheat most effectively.
"When I happened across the Black Road, it was an accident, but an inevitable one. And I knew it for what it was the instant I saw it-- Brand had found another way. It was also an opportunity. It was no longer what I had been made for, it was what I had re-made myself to oppose. It didn't take me long to realize where both ends were, and where Brand was likely to be. I followed it. But it was also an invasion route, and not undefended. Some locations seemed like fortresses, and the only way past was through. I found ways through. Usually by joining with whatever local forces fought against it until they could no longer prevent movement. Which is how I came to find myself in a cold place where the snow fell black and grey along the only pass through mountain terrain. I'd been at that task-- scouting, pushing ever Chaos-ward, for about five years. More than at any time in my life, advertising my real name and heritage seemed like a bad idea. I called myself Ramble."
That seems like a good place to stop, so Brennan does.
Ossian nods. "Do you think Brand knew where you were?"
Regenlief has been nodding her way through this, and has some questions of her own, but defers them in favor of Brennan's answer to this one.
"Well, that is the unsettling question, isn't it? If he did, it's not because I made it easy for him-- I didn't stay in one place very long, and I went some places that should have been very hard to track me through. But he knew where you were, to get you from Abford. And the Klybesians evidently knew something in order to take you. The obvious inference is that he was using them as a sort of a cross-shadow spy network-- but why, when he could make a Trump of me at any time?" He shakes his head in concession. "I just don't know. It seems like he must have, but then why just do nothing for four hundred years?
Brennan shrugs. "There are other alternatives-- he was working with the Klybesians on something else and happened across you, for instance. The Klybesians might have some hypothetical way of detecting who Family is, and approached Brand with you. I don't know. The pieces don't quite fit. But I'm leaning toward yes."
Regenlief holds up a hand to keep the conversation from proceeding further. "I thought you understood how the Klybesians got hold of Ossian," she says to Brennan. "They were there when he was born." She's looking at him and not at Ossian. "He was stolen from me in childbed. By the time I was recovered enough to go after them, they were long gone."
Ossian looks at his parents. "But how did they know I was family?"
"That's my question, too-- unless they didn't," Brennan says. "Regenlief, let's talk about those Klybesians and that night. Why were they there?"
"Among other things, they have doctors and man-midwives in their number. I'd been working for them, exploring and fighting along the Black Road, and when I fell pregnant, they took me in through my time of childbed. There was no indication when they treated me that they meant to steal my son." Regenlief glances at Ossian, then back at Brennan. "I didn't know why they took him, still don't, really, But if they knew he was of Amber blood, they knew who you were, Brennan, and they knew you'd sired my child."
Her lips twist momentarily, and then she finishes her tale. "They turned me out when I'd recovered enough to leave. And then I swore vengeance on them, which I haven't had to my satisfaction yet."
Ossian nods, solemnly. "They could have found out by sorcery, couldn't they, father? Or by guessing. Place me in an orphanage and watch what happened."
Brennan thinks about that, and at last ends up equivocating.
"It's... possible. Sorcery is idiosyncratic from practitioner to practitioner. It is of Chaos, how could it be otherwise? I've had some limited success, but in every instance I was looking at an individual I had reason to inquire after, such as Jasmine, because it's not a simple matter. I can't simply go about as a Family-detector, much as I might prefer. On the other hand," he gives an elaborate shrug, "Brita does just that, and I don't think she can actually stop doing it. How she does it I have no idea. She seems to be the exception, though, and even if they had a Brita it would still involve a lot of luck on their part."
He looks back to Regenlief, and asks, "Men only? Is that a trait of theirs, for some reason?" It's a question to Ossian, too. "You make it sound as though they were there with us in Summerless." He waits for confirmation or refutation, before asking, "How long had you been in Summerless before we met? Or how long with the Klybesians?"
"I think they have women's affiliate orders, as it were, but I only ever dealt with men. Men in charge seems to be the way they do business." Regenlief's expression could best be described as 'unimpressed'. She turns her thoughts to her time working for the Klybesians. "I hadn't been in Summerless that long, but we were tracking our way back up the Black Road. I'd been working for the Klybesians under one of their condottieri for--" she frowns "--a couple of decades. I wasn't in when they were hired on; I just knew the captain by reputation and earned my way up to my Lieutenancy over my time there. We weren't in close contact with them but I could have gotten hold of them and had instructions to under certain circumstances that didn't come up. And clearly they had ways to watch over me."
Brennan looks like he might like to interrogate just about every statement that Regenlief just made, as it all seems potentially useful in way or another. What he settles on is, "How did that work-- you getting in contact with them, them watching over you. I assume at some point they lost that ability?"
Ossian looks at Regenlief, but stays quiet.
"After I threw the glass I used to communicate with them into the Black Road, I burned everything else I had from them and then broke my trail as soon as I could. You can never be a hundred percent sure with sorcery, but I took as many precautions as I could. If anyone was tracking me, I thought for the longest time it would be through Ossian--not that I knew who he was then." She looks at him for a moment before turning back to Brennan, clearly expecting more questions.
"Glass," Brennan says, with a sidelong glance at Ossian. "You mean a mirror, specifically?"
"Or if it wasn't, how did it look?" Ossian looks more alert.
"A small mirror, which I carried in a protective case," Regenlief confirms.
That's important enough to wait for Regenlief to affirm. If she does, Brennan continues: "Was this a common means of communication? Or at least, not unique to you, as far as you know? Because I think we want to have one of those mirrors, if we can. Did any of the Klybesians happen to have green hair or a greenish complexion?"
"If you mean were there Rebmans among them, none that I noticed. I can't be certain--not all Rebmans show their heritage in their looks," Regenlief shrugs pragmatically. "But my sense was that these were some Klybesian device. I'd show you to mine, but I threw it in a lava pit. I didn't want to chance them using it against me later."
Brennan looks skeptical that the Klybesians' mirrors are entirely independent of Rebma, but doesn't press it. They don't have one to examine, and Brennan isn't an expert anyway. But Celina is.
"Probably the right call," Brennan says. "If you're concerned they're still tracking you, I can investigate. Or Conner or Fiona." He taps a finger on the table, thinking. "Or Celina, if we are worried particularly of the mirror, but I would think melting it down is as good a solution as any. Hard to reflect anything when you no longer exist.
"I'm fascinated to know, though, what the Klybesians considered important enough that they would want their field operatives to phone home about," Brennan adds. "Even if it is a century out of date."
Ossian nods. "You call it a device. Would you think it was something else than a magic mirror? A technological device?"
"I don't know how I'd tell the difference, really," Regenlief answers Ossian.
Then she answers the harder question, which isn't as hard as it sounds. "Mostly the usual things you'd report to a commander. I didn't deal directly with the Klybesians themselves, not the brothers, most of the time, unless they were healing the injured or the sick. I was with their outside troops, their sellswords, so I usually dealt with the officer in charge of those troops. He's called the Turcopolier."
Ossian nods. "That's a name I have heard before. He seems to be the leader of their military operations. Do you know anything about him?"
Brennan hasn't heard of this person, so he listens carefully to what Regenlief has to say, and asks, "Would you recognize this person if you saw him?"
"He's a talented strategist and tactician and a man of some power, though not a sorcerer as far as I can tell. He's the one who usually dealt with the Klybesians directly, except when we were injured and they healed us. He didn't use a name, just his title. But I'll recognize him if I see him or hear him," Regenlief answers, covering both of their questions.
Brennan looks over at Ossian. "Trumps?" He asks. "It's a long shot, but...." but evidently Brennan doesn't want to chance it.
Ossian shakes his head. "Of course Brand could do all sorts of weird things, but a Trump that looks like a mirror defies all principles of Trumps as I know them.
"So there seems to be at least two individuals to look out for. This Turcopolier and Chew. And whoever is behind the whole brotherhood. So how do we proceed? Secretly?
" Do you have any other sources of information?" Regenlief asks. "I can't be the only person with a score to settle with them. They make a lot of enemies. And if nothing else, we can always send out a mercenary to join the Turcopolier. That’s what he does, after all: recruit and lead the mercenaries."
"Outside the Family? I do not. Inside the Family they've made enemies left and right: Ossian and I, Brita especially on behalf of Reid, Marius certainly. And this connection to Greenwood you've uncovered is extremely disturbing," Brennan says.
"Ossian, let's be clear: Are you asking about secrecy with regards to the rest of the Family?" Brennan asks.
"Yes." Ossian says. "But I doubt that it would be meaningful. Eh. Don't forget Martin and Folly on that list of enemies... And Jerod."
Brennan nods agreement to Ossian's additions, but says, "Potentially harmful, too. Imagine you're Marius and discover we've been holding back useful information. Imagine you're King Random and you discover we've been holding back useful information. I'm sure he's going to ask everyone to bring what they've got to the table tomorrow, and then we're all going to live with whatever decision comes out of that."
"Not to mention that if you tell that many people about your secret, it's inevitable it will spread further." Regenlief looks sharply at Ossian, and then to Brennan. "But there's someone you think shouldn't know, Ossian. Of whom should I be wary? If there's a spy, and they know who I am, they might confront me, or set someone to watch me. I don't mind being a target, but I like to have an idea of the direction the knife might be coming from."
"No, like you I think everyone will know anyway. As for who we should be wary of? I don't know. Caine, I guess. Edan you will have to assess, father. But the Klybesians seems to be everywhere."
"I still have one last question for Regenlief," Brennan says. "Why did they not kill you? If they knew nothing else at all they had to know that you would swear vengeance for this crime, that it would all end in blood."
"I had the childbed fever," Regenlief explains. "They left me alone, without my people, sick unto death." A glance at Ossian and a shrug convey her knowledge that that can't be easy to hear. "It happens to women at times, even if they're cared for. Maybe they were poisoning me too, because it would have been very convenient if I had died just then. They might be forbidden to put a knife to my throat but if I died on my own, that was just the Unicorn's plan, I suppose." Another shrug. "I'm tougher than they thought. I fought my way through. It took me months to recover but I did, and here we are."
Ossian frowns, but shows no more sign of empathy.
Brennan doesn't bother to keep his contempt for the Klybesians off his face, but offers no translation of whatever he mutters under his breath. Switching back to Thari, he says, "Then they will answer for this crime, as well."
Then: "You asked who to watch out for: I would say Huon. He is known to have had dealing with the Klybesians during his exile and hasn't fully accounted for that. But aside from that, I might have shot him once or twice and ran him off the side of a mountain into a ravine filled with hungry dragons." He shrugs. "He was rude, and he took something that wasn't his." It's the same tone of voice he used to recount the humiliation Lord Delora of Summerless, decades ago-- an act which it was impolitic to admit was deeply satisfying. "He is on a short leash, these days, but might be inclined to try something stupid."
Brennan doesn't have a Trump of him, and doesn't think Ossian does either, but he gives Regenlief a good description of him and his usual accouterments.
"So Huon also. That makes sense. But why did he invade Abford. I'd say the monks had some influence there, since that is where they left me?"
Regenlief nods to Brennan's description but has nothing on the question of why Huon might fight with his nominal allies. She's a mercenary and that allies fall out makes sense to her.
Brennan shrugs expansively. "Too little data, too much speculation. But both they and Huon are scorpions, so it was likely inevitable that they fell out. Besides, just because he invaded Abford doesn't mean they were at odds at the time-- if you really want to know, go back and see if their position has risen or fallen, and why."
Ossian nods. "Nah." He says.
Brennan gives a small smile at that -- he hadn't wanted to push Ossian in one direction or the other, but he'd have made the same call. There may be reasons to go back to Abford, but Brennan doesn't think that's one of them. Yet.
Looking to Regenlief, he asks, "You asked after Fiona earlier: Would you like a personal introduction to her, or do you prefer a letter?" If the latter, and if no writing materials are present, he sends a page to find some.
"A personal introduction would be appreciated, but I understand you have other responsibilities. If you don't have time, I'll take the letter."
Last modified: 15 March 2017