Not long after Robin and Vere leave him, Edan brings some leaves and branches together to feed the sputtering remains of the flame that encircles and defines his Gate. Amazingly, as the fire grows and leaps under his hands, there is no smoke; either it is part of the spell he's cast, or some unknown skill he has with fire, or both. When he is satisfied with the results, he places a binding of peace over the mind of his horse, a gesture of his hand over the steed's eyes, checks that Kyauta has a good perch on his shoulder, then steps into the Gate.
It is like, and yet unlike, his experiences with Trump. There is a blue-green halo all around them, probably having to do with their destination, and the transport is much faster than all the time spent concentrating on the cards. He is in Arden, then the next moment he is in the Blue Earth and the tree is at his back.
Kneeling, Edan places his hand on the ground, palm down, and recites a half-remembered couplet that comes to his mind. He sends his awareness around the edges of the Gate he just used, exerts his will, and lets the whole thing contract and collapse. He keeps going, his concentration pure as any spell he's cast, until the Gateway is closed, the connection broken and unusable. Without looking, he knows that the space he created in Arden has fragmented and flared into nothingness.
And then he smiles, for his theory is sound, his knowledge expanded, and he can only but build upon it. Space is not his favorite Principle, but this effort is a smashing success. Standing, he checks the Tree with the Third Eye, and mounts his horse, trying to remember if he had ever met this commander of grackleflints that Fiona mentioned.
The tree doesn't move, but Edan feels as if he's being watched. In the Blue World, that's entirely possible.
General Emil would only be familiar if Edan had spent significantly more time with Queen Clarissa than he has.
After some head-scratching and navel-gazing, Edan decides the best course would be to head in the general direction of Clarissa. Even better, since the Shadow that Random described to him in in that general direction, Edan will stop there first. If he's very lucky, he might even run into some grackleflints there and be shunted up the bueracratic ladder.
Edan does spare the occasional glance towards Kyauta, allowing his affine to work through whatever thought processes it might have, if it wants to discuss the meeting with Robin and Vere.
Edan heads out. The blue world is a good starting place, and soon Edan finds himself needing the little tricks of pattern and sorcery that his father has taught him to deal with the environment of Chaos. The sky is starting to splinter, as if there are different parts that are out of phase, and the trees shimmer, but the land is still relatively normal this close to the border tree.
Edan comes across a battlefield. There is a single oak tree at the edge, denuded of leaves as if in winter. Perhaps it is winter, here. Tangled in the branches of the tree are several men. All are bleeding, and none are moving. They don't seem to be weighing down the branches at all. As Edan gets closer, he sees that they have chalk-white skin, no hair, and bone spurs (either natural or artificial) on their elbows. At least one of them is obviously dead, his shoulder cleaved as if by an axe. The others may be as well.
Sitting on the tree branch is a raven. It has an eyeball in its beak.
It couldn't have been that long of a time since the battle, if there's still eyeballs for ravens to pick at. Edan approaches carefullly, more out of caution for his horse than anything else - Aramsham wouldn't have shied from the smell of blood or death, but he doesn't know how this horse would react...and he's already been warned about how spirited this steed can be.
So he urges the horse closer, close enough to be at an easy talking distance from the raven. "Do you speak?"
It swallows the eyeball, whole, and hops from foot to foot.
After a moment. "Not generally with my mouth full. You're late if you came for the battle. You need to be more prompt if you wish the juicy bits."
"I just ate, thank you." He cocks his head at the bird. "Not wanting to begrudge you your windfall, here, but I was hoping to meet up with these, er, men while they were still breathing. Who fought them?"
The bird looks at Edan with one eye and turns his head slowly, switching eyes. "These aren't men. They're grackleflints, of the Brass Legion. They belong to Clarissa the Queen, and no other Lord of Chaos would have them.
"They crossed Dulle Griet. Or at least they crossed her path." It shakes its feathers. "I heard a good one, recently, Lord. I can teach you wisdom if you let me peck out your eye."
Dulle Griet? That's a new one, Edan thinks, but it's not the top question he wants to address. "That's a completely different kind of wisdom, and I wouldn't care to learn it," he says. "How about you tell me in exchange for me not pecking out your eye. Or maybe there's some other payment we can negotiate on that doesn't involve pecking."
The bird squawks and flies to a higher branch. "Can't blame a carrion bird for trying, can you? What payment do you offer?"
"I am a proficient sorceror and artist, have stories of Amber, and can generally walk to most any place or any thing I desire," Edan says. "Also a pleasant singing voice. And, well, limited time, to be fair. Does any of that appeal to you?"
The crow caws in agreement. "I would take a song. A song from your childhood. Children's songs are usually the most bloody, in exchange for wisdom. I am a fair bird; I will strike a fair bargain."
Edan racks his brain, thinking of many songs he had heard in his life, short as it may be compared to others; but seeing the bird before him, it reminds him of a poem sung to him many times as a child. He clears his throat, and in a clear voice he sings*:
I am thinking of that raven, still!
The one crossing the ravines of Yush
and their golden, sun-burnt fields-
of wheat.And the scalpel of its wings,
from the pallid, papery veil of the skies,
cropped out an arch-bridge, leaning uneven-
to the sides.Then, the blunt edge of its dried gorge,
addressed the aged mountain beside.And his words,
still echo in the rock-strong wits
of the bored mounts around-
ever since mystified...
(*Ahmad Shamlou: (The Raven, 1975))
"Not bad," replies the crow. "You should change it to be about a crow, though. Ravens have ugly voices, almost as bad a grackle."
Edan feels somewhat odd, as if he's forgotten something.
"What wisdom did you want of me, Child of Amber?"
"Did you not have some specific wisdom that you wished to communicate?" Edan asks. Meanwhile, he checks off a mental list: astride a horse, has Kyauta with him, the sextant is still with him, the Fire Gate to Arden has been dismantled, on his way to find the Trumps...
Have I forgotten something in the rush after encountering the Dragon? he asks Kyauta.
Surely not, Great Lord!
The crow coughs apologetically, "I was thinking of 'don't give your eye to a carrion bird for wisdom unless you know what you're getting', but you already knew that one. In any case, I said I'd be fair, and so I shall. Your passage is marked and there are those following your progress. You walk into a maw, mind the teeth and the tongue." The bird stretches his wings and starts to circle away from Edan.
"Wait, lots of people follow my progress," Edan calls out. Not that he expects to strike gold here, but anything would help. "Who is it?"
The crow circles, crossing the multi-colored sky. He's not out of range of a thrown stone, but he's clearly not interested in being too close to Edan. "Oh, you are interesting to many, many. The brighter lights drown the lesser. Dulle Griet, affine to the Duke of Borel herself, has an eye on you. She watches your passing through lands that hostile to your very self and wonders at your purpose."
Edan processes this, and nods once in understanding. It is better than expected. And the name sounds vaguely familiar, some painting or other he glanced at in Antwerp in that shadow he and his father visited. It's time to get moving, not that his talent for shifting Shadow will help here. "Well, I am a Lord of Chaos. That's what they say, anyway. Maybe I'm waiting for her to get too close so I can add her distinctiveness to my own. Or maybe I'm looking for new..." How did his father say it? "...digs."
The bird laughs. "You think you could defeat m- my Lady? and her friends Chantico and her patron-mother the Duchess of Borel? You are brave, oh Ordered Lord of Chaotic things, but ignorant. But you are amusing and I have no real quarrel with you. I hope the digs you seek are not your grave." The bird flaps higher and higher and disappears into a cloud. Edan thinks it may be lingering there, to see what he does.
While he's moving, Edan affords himself a moment of regret that he doesn't have Aramsham here. He does examine the grackleflint bodies more closely to see just what killed them as he passes by.
It looks like it was cut open with a kitchen knife.
Oho. Edan pulls on the reins to make his horse do a little turn and jump, following the crow's progress. He smiles. "That would depend entirely on what y... what your Lady does. Maybe, I'm just passing through," he says, heedless of whether the crow can hear him now. He suspects it can. "Maybe, I mean no harm and we just happened to cross paths. Sometimes it's better to just leave things be."
But, as he paws through his clothes for an appropriate item to serve as a brand (so much harder to do, here, with no Shadow manipulation to give him exactly what he wants), Edan is frowning; if Chantico is near, she might want a rematch. Even if the Dulle Griet doesn't make an appearance, in crow form or Her own, there is no doubt the word will be given. He doubts Chantico would want to see him again so soon, but there's no telling how long she's had to recuperate.
Finding a long wand, he strikes it against his hand, setting the tip alight; then he waves it in a complicated pattern over the remains of the grackleflints, taking a full minute of movement and chanting. Then he holds the brand high as he urges his little entourage onward.
The trail is clear and white. It manifests as a white smoke trail in the direction the Edan was riding. The grackleflint bodies, perhaps disturbed by the crow and perhaps by the sorcery, begin to float along the same trail Edan takes.
His borrowed horse snorts, nervously, and the sky wheels from dark to light in a moment.
If Edan was a horse, he would snort, too. If he's seen this change in the sky before, on his last visit, he'll be less nervous about it. But either way, he brings up his Third Eye to make sure nothing untoward is about to happen.
Mark where that crow went into the clouds, Kyauta. If something dives out at us, I need some warning to react.
Yes, My Lord
Edan scans the landscape. Most things show some sorcerous footprint, but it's minimal. Edan notes that to his third eye the very air sparkles, as if sorcerous energy was spontaneously being created and instantly snuffed out all the time. It's not visible to the nonmagical eyes, but there is definitely an unusual magical quality to this place.
The grackleflints continue to steadily drift in the direction of the arrow.
It does appear that Edan has covered his back, at least. The floating bodies are strange, and a little disconcerting, but may be some kind of intrinsic property. He urges the horse onward, following the trail as it reveals itself.
Edan rides for an unknowable time, and he's convinced he's sliding through shadow, as if natural shadow paths had devolved into something more like shadow tides. The sky starts to change faster, and splits into more distinct bands of dark and light. The lessons Bleys drilled into Edan long ago about how to survive here and what Edan has learned more practically since then come into play.
It's easy to handle either with Chaos-based Sorcery or with Pattern.
Eventually, Edan spots what may be the destination of the floating Grackleflints: an impossibly tall mountain in the distance. Or perhaps it's closer than he thinks. It's hard to trust anything like depth perception here.
Two grackleflints ride towards Edan, each mounted on a white horse-like creature. Their mounts have extra joints on their legs and the same kind of spikes at the elbows that the dead soldiers have.
The ride towards Edan, their weapons undrawn and their pace unhurried. They will intercept Edan's course long before he reaches the mountain.
Completely expected, and a better reception than it could have been. Edan drops the torch, which hits the ground and improbably keeps burning; otherwise, he also keeps his weapons undrawn.
The other grackleflints he's met haven't spoken, so he'll make the first conversational gambit. If his welcome committee stops at an easy distance, he'll hold up his hands and say, "Your friends here, they ran into the Dulle Griet. I believe I crossed her path, too. She may still have an eye on me. Us."
"What is your name and purpose here?" Their words are, like the grackleflints themselves, colorless and dull. Edan detects no curiosity, no purpose, and no warmth in the rider's voice. It is as if it were programmed to say those words.
He tenses in the saddle. A little. That kind of colorless, lifeless response is enough to put one's teeth on edge. "I am Edan, son...affine of Bleys, affine of Clarissa. I seek a General Emil of the grackleflints. I wish to speak with him, or get directions if I must seek him elsewhere."
"Follow", says the same rider, and turns his horse around. The other rider waits for Edan.
Edan arrives at a ... camp, or something like a camp. There is a paddock and there are some tents. In the distance, Edan sees a large number of armored grackleflints, standing at attention, unmoving.
The flap to the nearest tent opens and another grackleflint walks out. He has the same hollow eye sockets at the others, but a much more human manner. He walks as if he is walking, not as if he's running a "walk" command. He's wearing, incongruously, a tuxedo, with a red bow-tie and cummerbund. With a hat and sunglasses, he could pass in The Land of Peace, at least in the cities.
"I thought I smelled horseflesh," say the man, or man-like thing. "I am Emil. You are Bleys's son? Your father and grandmother have long been good friends of the Bronze Legions. Don't worry, I'm not biased against breeders, not like some of the Lords. The ways of a Ways are the Ways, I always say. What brings you to the mountain?"
It's easy to imagine him in a club, smoking a pipe and reading the Times. It's difficult to imagine him commanding the greatest army in all Chaosdom.
Edan has trouble keeping himself from staring back and forth between Emil and the unmoving bronze ranks. "It is good that there is amity. I would hope to continue that trend. I am actually here at the behest of Random, King of Amber and Xanadu." He tilts his head a little. "You are not at all like the others I have met. I would hazard a guess that you are no stranger to the Shadows."
He nods, looking over the horse. "Not your regular mount, I take it?" He reaches out and pets the animal. It's wary, but not scared.
"My father was a shadow, or the Spirit of one. He was broken many years ago, but gave his children many gifts. My brothers are young, and haven't learned as much as I have. Once they return to the mountain, they start their next life with more experience."
He looks at the young man from the Land of Peace. "Now, then young fellah, what can the Legions or I do for Oberon and Random? Or would you prefer to speak of it over a glass of wine?"
Edan nods and dismounts - slowly enough not to cause a stir from anyone, if guards are nearby. "I would, that. Thank you. As you guessed, this is not my regular mount, and he is very spirited. Do you have someone to attend to him as we talk? I could do so myself, if it is an imposition."
He nods. "I'll summon a centurion. As your mount is a creature of order, it probably needs to stay somewhat close to you." The officer comes over, and Emil gives him instructions. If the centurion were a person, he'd seem young. He's not the automaton that the soldiers were.
Emil pulls a camp table and two folding chairs from the tent. He sets them up facing the mountain where Edan can watch the new groom handle his horse. The centurion seems good at it, for someone who may never have seen a horse before.
Another grackleflint arrives with a bottle and two glasses. Emil pours them both and sets the tray down on the table. He takes a glass. "To Queen Clarissa," he proposes.
"To Grandmother," Edan says with real fondness, and allows Emil to decide whether the glasses are too fragile to clink together. "I traveled with her, not long ago. It was the first time we had met, person to person. It was both pleasant and terrifying." He takes a sip, still new to the appreciation of wine, and tries to identify the flavors.
The glasses are not too delicate for a light clink. The wine tastes spectacular, but Edan's only references to the flavors of it are not tastes at all. It tastes of 'Boom' and 'Prickle', with undertones of the color 'Orange'.
"Alas," he continues, "I do not think she is in any way involved with this trip. This has to do with Random, and a recent visit he had made out in this direction."
He smiles, wistfully. "I think she would be pleased to be described as 'pleasant and terrifying.' She and I have had many adventures together. I introduced her to her grandfather, and yours, a long time ago. The day we freed the Legions and killed my father." Emil drinks a healthy swig of his wine.
"But you're not here to reminisce with an old warrior. Tell me more of the new King."
Edan fails to hide his disappointment, as every bit of that sounds like something he would like to hear. But he knows enough to sense a change in topic. "Random is...a Prince of Amber. He is the youngest of his siblings, and looks it, but despite that he is intelligent and matchless in his guile. He has a fondness for music, and his kingdom will draw music and art and culture from all places to it as part of its greatness." He pauses. "I do not engage in hyperbole, though it may sound so. There was a place I learned of in my travels, called Vienna. It followed the same model, and became the hub of culture and music in its world. I think the same will happen for Random."
He drinks again, as much for effect as from talking, and says, "But you may have heard of him already, and much closer to here. He essayed a rescue attempt to free Brand from a tower, before it was known...well, before it was known that wasn't such a good idea. During the attempt, he lost his personal effects. He was most unhappy with this. He has asked me to find and retrieve them."
Emil's laugh is something of a bark; short and explosive. It fits him. "That one? I heard about him. He led a troop of my legion on a merry chase and sent them back to the mountain. Do you know what you're looking for? I do know he left behind a gun and put a sword in Scitalis' eye."
Edan tries not to wince. "I do not think that he would want the sword. There was another thing he lost - a pack of cards."
Emil shakes his head. "I haven't heard. I'll send for the centurion who led the defenses at the Princess' Tower. It was very odd, that part of the war. We were supposed to keep it a secret from the Queen that we were working for the Princess, but I think she knew, even if she didn't want to know."
A grackleflint comes up to Emil, although no obvious bidding on the General's part. "Oh, Radu. Please send to the quartermaster for anything found during the defense of the Princess' Tower and request that Stanis come to my pavillion." He smiles as the other grackleflint nods.
Turning back to Edan, he says "What do these cards look like? I've heard that the King of Xanadu was a gambler, but cards are hardly worth the effort, no? I can have a deck made and sent to him if he can't get one in his desmesne."
Edan smiles, a little. "This one was an ancient deck of tarot, and some of the cards were painted to resemble family. It has sentimental value to him, I believe. Or perhaps he was just looking to keep me out of trouble for a while - I do tend to cause a stir wherever I go. Sometimes."
Emil pouts, and for a moment, it's possible to forget that he's making human facial expressions without really having a face. "I may not be able to help you cut your task short. Let's see what Stan has to say."
It's just after this that a grackleflint comes up to the pavillion. 'Yes, Emil? Is there something urgent?" He sounds quite annoyed.
"Ah, Stannis. Come, meet the Commander's grandson. Edan Bleyson, this is my younger and more angry brother, Stannis Grackleflint, the Air Marshal of the Brass Legions."
The grackleflint starts, and bows at the neck towards Edan.
Edan matches the newcomer's bow at the neck, from where he sits. "Marshal. I am honored."
Stannis completely drops the impatience he showed with Emil. "Air Marshal, your highness. I would not wish to be confused with a Moonrider."
"Edan is looking for a deck of magical cards that his King dropped when he assaulted the Princess' tower. You were in command there, as I recall."
"Yes, He led us on quite a chase. It took three of your kind to send us all back to the mountain. We had his trump deck, but only for a short time. We were ambushed near a monastery and they took the Hastatus carrying it. When he returned to the mountain, he'd been robbed."
Another grackleflint arrives and opens a box, which has a stained sword and a handgun in it. Emil dismisses him and offers the contents to Edan.
Emil finishes his drink. "You''ll be looking for the Klybesians, if you want your trumps back."
"I see." Edan finishes what's left of his, as well. He doesn't hide his relief that the the grackleflints know what Trumps are, as it saves him a lot of worry for dropping family secrets. "Thank you. I have heard the name, here and there, but I must confess I do not know anything in detail. They style themselves as a monastic order, yes? Do you know anything about them?"
Emil snorts. "A fair bit. We're of interest to them, because we can follow people through shadows. They'd like to have that power, or more of it. What they really want is your control over shadow travels. Or it's what this group of them want. They're an old sect, and have been many things at different times."
Stannis hasn't moved. It's hard to tell where he's looking, with his featureless face. "Even at the same time. Do not assume you know what all of them want or would do even if you know one." Emil nods. "True of any group, one would think."
"Even family," Edan says, his voice a good deal more dry than the wine. "Personally, and fortunately, I am not so hard to read. My loyalty lies with Amber and Xanadu, Random's new realm. With Random. With my father. With Family. This does not preclude me from being a friend to the Bronze Legions." He pauses, thinking about it, and then nods. "Yes. If there is a need, and it does not cross the vows I have already mentioned, you have but to ask. As you say, your relationship with my immediate family goes a long way back. Someday, an I live long enough, perhaps I would be more use to you."
"The Legion has few friends, out here, which is suprising as we are good friends to have. Speak my name to any Legionnaire if you need aid."
[Edan] folds his hands in his lap. "Well. As you say. Finding any random Klybesian, that might not be so helpful. Do you know of a particular sect, a particular individual, that I might seek in order to find the Trumps?"
Stannis starts. "No, not any random Monk. They are strongly ordered. They'd pass it along. You'll have to find their main research temple. You'll need to find one of their officers, perhaps the Turcopolier. He travels extensively. We hear of him in many places."
Edan frowns, but only for a second. "Now, that title I have heard before. A mounted archer," he says. "No doubt, his duties range far beyond that job. I shall search for him." He rises, and bows. "Thank you. My visit has been most pleasant."
Stannis bows in return. "We know him as master of the mercenary companies, and high-ranking in the order. We have met on and off the field. He has a talent for making strong armies from mercenaries that seem less than ideal."
Emil also rises and bows. "You may find other ways to the Ways of the Klybes, but the soldiers are likely to point you at the soldierly method. My best wishes to your Kings and your sire."
"Thank you. I shall pass that along. Fare well, until we meet again," Edan says as he collects his horse and takes his leave.
After having taken his leave of the Bronze Legion, and given Kyauta instructions to look for the Dulle Griet (if she has decided to hang around), Edan sets his path towards the Shadow of Bellum.
"Father has told me of this place," he says to Kyauta. "I have not seen it. I understand from him that the politics are often tense." He sighs. "Would that I had thought to go find my horse first, but it is out of the way. I still do not know if Aramsham has made it to Xanadu."
Kyauta is eager to help his master. Shall I eat a riding beast for you, Great Lord? With enough mass, I can replace your horse.
Edan ponders a moment, then slumps. "No. That won't be necessary. I want to check on Aramsham, I still should be talking to my sister, the King should learn what happened to his Trumps, I want to check on Hannah, and I need a good starting place to head towards Bellum. It is time to return to Xanadu." And he kicks his horse forward and begins to shift Shadow in that direction.
Edan rides, picking those elements he wishes to emphasize. The leaves get fatter, then turn a darker green. The day becomes hotter and more humid, and suddenly the light matches that of Brocéliande. The price of the light is that the soil has become looser and the trees smaller. Edan focuses, again on small details.
The stallion crosses a hillock and Edan comes across a finch on a bare twig, just as he planned. The pieces come together one by one: the light, the air, the sky, the sounds and smells of the forest, the distant smell of the sea and the way the horse kicks dirt up.
Edan passes into a clearing and the last change completes. Edan has reached Brocéliande, the greatwoods of Xanadu. Paige's rangers patrol here, including Hannah's father. Or the forest could be skirted if Edan wishes to ride directly to the King.
Time may have passed, but it's hard to say how long.
This takes much less pondering; Edan rides into Brocéliande, fairly confident that he would be recognized. Also the road, like every other, should lead directly to Xanadu and be a quicker path.
There are no roads in Brocéliande, because it is not traversed by men. The paths are those of hart and hind--natural breaks where they have pushed through to a watering hole or a hidden spot where they rest.
Edan's course takes him through the verge and towards the water. A few times he spots signs that men have been here, but the marks are minimal. The forest is too large and sparsely populated to make it likely that Edan will encounter a patrol, but eventually he comes across two Rangers at the fording spot leading towards the castle. They recognize Edan, but do not stop him.
[Edan can talk to them, if he wishes...]
Edan and the horse he's riding eventually reach the cliffside path that leads from the top to what Random has called "The Ledge Precarious" upon which the castle sits, overlooking the fledgling city of Xanadu.
He reaches the stables just as the sun is setting.
The first thing Edan does is find one of the grooms, and he turns in the horse he's riding. If the groom doesn't already recognize this stallion, Edan will explain how he was lent the horse for an extended ride, and tell how it behaved, etc. In general, the report is a good one. Second, he asks about Aramsham and whether he's arrived at either Xanadu or Amber.
The groom takes the report diligently. He seems somewhat in awe of Edan and doesn't ask any questions.
Aramsham hears Edan's voice and announces himself. He sounds anxious, but not angry.
Donovan, the stablemaster, comes out of the stalls. "Good evening, my Lord. Are you changing horses, or should we send word to the Castle that you have returned?"
Edan smiles at Donovan. He immediately begins walking towards Aramsham's stall, knowing the stablemaster would understand. "You are the one I was supposed to bring the stallion to. Yes, please, send word to the castle, I will be there shortly. Your horse was willful, as promised, but performed well. I took him farther afield than I expected."
Donovan nods at a stableboy, who runs out of the stable towards the castle. "Good. We try to train horses to take your family to the places only you can go. He'll be useful to the castle."
Aramsham sees Edan approaching and makes clear his disappointment with how long it has been since he was dismissed.
Donovan walks towards the stall as well. "Still, he's not of the quality of your Aramsham. Have you considered letting us breed him?"
Edan nods. "The short answer is yes. Flameheart is his sire, and his dam is from the Land of Peace. We could discuss the details when I am here for a longer time, yes?"
Without letting things get too late, Edan takes his leave and heads up towards the castle. Again, if it is not too late, he finds a page and asks to find out if Random is available to see him; if not, then he will try again the next morning.
Edan is directed to a dimly lit, smoky room in the basement, where Random sits at a table with what is effectively his government. Ash is up from Xanadu City, Soren, Gilt Winter, and Brij are sitting around a green felt table playing cards. The biggest stacks of tokens are in front of Brij and Random. It's a friendly game, but there's definitely some competition going on in the room.
"Welcome back, " says Random. "No news until you've played a hand."
Gilt gets up. "Anyone else need a drink? Lord Edan, you may take my seat. I'm sure the King will bankroll you."
"Story of my life," replies Random, pushing a pile of his chips in front of the vacant seat.
Edan only hesitates a second. "Very well, thank you," he says as he slides into the offered seat, and well aware of the double entendre of his next words. "What game are we playing?"
"Poker," replies Random. "A friendly game of skill where you attempt to form the rarest hand of five cards from a series of seven, with some private to you, some shared and concealed, and some public."
Brij leans over to him. "The game is learning what everyone else has, based on how they act. We're playing a variant called 'Texorami Hold 'em', which is from my home shadow. Random gave up on 'strip poker' because he kept losing, so we're playing for money."
Random grins at Brij, "hard to keep my mind on the game, if I'm also playing cards." He then explains the rules to Edan.
Gilt prepares drinks for himself and anyone else who wants one.
Edan nods his understanding of the basic rules and the structure of the card deck. It doesn't take him long to ask for a drink, after figuring out that every player is watching every other player for 'tells', and sips from it often to help hide his expressions. Not the most 'water' sensitive of the players, this one, and he knows that's a disadvantage. He ignores the urge to use Sorcery to alter this. If there's smoking at the table, he's completely unaffected by it, and in fact bums a cigarette of his own. Starting out, he'll play conservatively, more for learning the game than to express his betting impulses.
The first few rounds are easy, and it's clear to Edan that while everyone at the table can play, Brij and Random are best. The game of tells and misdirection doesn't completely eliminate of the game of chance, but it's not far from it.
Edan's experiments lead him to roughly break even, while Ash and Soren are less successful.
After a few more rounds, it's down to Brij, Random, and Edan. Brij holds the most chips, followed by Random, then Edan.
Brij takes the dealer's button and looks up at Random, who nods.
"Last Hand. Dealer's choice: Reverse Texorami Hold'em. You don't look at your cards, you hold them on your forehead so that we can see them. Otherwise it's the same."
Edan gets his two cards and the other two hold their cards as described. Random's hand beats Brij's but about 53% of the possible hands Edan might have beat Random.
Brij is betting pretty aggressively. Random is hard to read.
Fifty-three percent is better than a coin flip. Edan starts betting aggressively on this hand, raising Brij on each of her moves until he's committed at least half of his chips; mostly, he wants to see if Random stays in. What he does next depends on how far Random's willing to bet.
Brij matches Edan as they run up to the point where Edan has committed half of his stack.
Brij stares hard at Random's forehead. "Very well, I can see you have no intention of folding." Random shrugs and drinks his beer. Without turning, she says "Edan, I'll go all in if you do. It's the last hand. I want to see what we've got."
"As you say." Edan shrugs and pushes his chips forward into the pot, interested himself in seeing how it will end.
"I'd drop out, but that would spoil Brij's fun", says Random.
Random mimes placing his cards face up on the table. "On three. One, two. ... three!"
Edan: Death Reversed (stasis)
Brij: The Satyr (indulgence)
Random: Knowledge (truth)
Random drums a quick tattoo on the table, grinning. "A pleasure playing with you all. Gilt, fresh drinks for everyone who wants one. Edan, welcome back. What news on the Rialto?"
Brij snorts. "Ah, well, I thought I had a chance. Random, you don't have a Rialto."
Random grins. "Ash, take care of that."
"I'm not serving at the pleasure of the King until I get that drink, your majesty," replies the Lord Mayor of Xanadu, shaking his head.
Random turns to Edan as the room settles down from the game's excitement.
"Had I Father's panache, I might have added these to the pot on the last hand." Edan removes Random's gun and sword from his robes and lays them on the table. "I found out about the grackleflints that chased you. They had your Trumps, too, but they were waylaid. They say the Klybesians have the deck now."
Random nods, once. His lips are very tight. The rest of the room stops being nearly so merry and the lights dim as if on command or in response to the King's mood. He blows his hair out of eyes, but it promptly settles there again.
The king takes the gun, checks the chamber for bullets, and begins working the action and inspecting the state of it. He's clearly competent with the gun, as well as safe. He looks at Soren. "Oil."
Soren nods, and gets up to get him some,
The King returns his attention to Edan. "We'll get back to them. First tell me about the gakle-things."
Edan sits back and folds his hands; if his speech is slower or more measured, it's his attempt not to create any misunderstandings with his words. He tries his best to be completely honest. "You have seen them, you have fought them. The grackleflints, also known as the Bronze Legion, are an army loyal to Clarissa. They were used to guard Brand when Fiona and Father kept him in the tower, and I don't think Grandmother officially was supposed to know about that. I was amiable and polite, and was treated so in return, I think because of who I am. The rank-and-file of their army, they seem to me to lack...something. Initiative. Intelligence. That spark that you would see in a man. But their leaders, they do, and that was who I approached. I was prepared to negotiate for the deck, but their general, named Emil, summoned the one in charge of the tower when you came. He brought these.
"He said, ah..." Edan pauses to remember. "'Yes, He led us on quite a chase. It took three of your kind to send us all back to the mountain. We had his trump deck, but only for a short time. We were ambushed near a monastery and they took the Hastatus carrying it. When he returned to the mountain, he'd been robbed.' The mountain is where their dead return, as I personally observed this. There they are supposedly, ah, reborn? Recreated? Their lives are cyclical, if I understand it right. They remember their past."
Random takes the oil from Soren and thanks him. He cleans and oils the gun with an expert's touch. "As my forefather and forebrother before me, I am officially against guns in my city. Killing someone needs to be personal."
He puts the gun away and works on the sword. "I hope their pet monster doesn't hold grudges. I smacked him with a big rock and he joined the floating dead. So, that was Clarissa's army, as borrowed by Fi and Bleys for Brandsitting. Interesting that they didn't use them again against Eric or during Patternfall, you know? I wonder what that means..."
He looks around quickly. "I have three of your cousins on a mission of rough diplomacy to the Klybesians as we speak. The acquisitive little bastards have Reid's body."
Brij puts her drink down. "Lovely."
Random nods and grabs a chair. He swings it around backwards and straddles it at the table. "OK, unofficial royal cabinet is in session, all present breveted to temporary members. What do we do about these meddlesome priests?"
Edan is, by Amber precedent, the senior advisor present by rank.
He doesn't hesitate. "Emil mentioned factions. The grackleflints interest them, because they can track through Shadow. The Klybesians want this, or at least some of them do. They want what we have, ultimately, the power over Shadow. We will do what we can to deny them this, neh? It would be a hard, long road to confront them directly, for their shield is secrecy and their weapon is knowledge." He clears his throat. "Knowledge is why I am here. I do not yet have the thing you want. How bad do you want it? I have a name- the Turcopolier, the head of their mercenary companies. I can keep going, but I wanted to know how hard you want me to push.
"Also, I don't know nearly enough about them to be effective. I have heard whispers and rumors of the Klybesians. The Paresh. Bellum. Asir. How are they connected, if at all?"
Brij looks up. "I'm new here. But you just described a secretive organization that exists across shadows and collects intelligence on us. It's got some sort of religious tie, which means there's some objective that we can't rationally deal with. If we find the set that's bugging us, even if we just smash it, we'll only splinter it. I've got no idea what to do. Maybe thrashing them will help."
Soren shrugs. "I've got nothing." Ash also passes.
Gilt looks up. "They were tied up with Vere and Jerod and someone investigated their place in Amber. Princess Fiona, as I recall. Lucas had dealings with them in Asir, his man said. Also, Signy's tutor was one of them."
Random nods. "Yeah, I remember that. Where's the tutor?"
Soren takes the sword from Random, who seems to be done with it. "Rebma. It might be quicker to have you send someone for him than if we do," he adds.
Random nods. "Right, anything else?"
Kyril sighs. "One thing. Is there any danger to Solly?"
Edan was nodding along with Brij's assessment, but stops. "From the monks? If it takes three of us to go and force them to give up cousin Reid's body, it says much of them. I hope the body is still there when they go, for it sounds to me that the Klybesians have little respect for us. They had to know we would come, so it argues they have no fear, that they have planned for it. Following that logic, if we embody their objectives, there is a danger to all of us." Edan suddenly wonders if that's a new height of paranoia, even for him.
Random nods. "So, here's the thing. It's possible for you to be someone's nemesis and them not to be your nemesis back. Happens all the time.
"Huey and Bleys", Brij interrupts.
"Yeah, Huon and Bleys, for instance," replies Random. "Bleys was all "What? I didn't care, I just did what Dad told me to do. I haven't thought about him in centuries." and Huon was totally batshit about taking his revenge. Unequal opposition. They're like our enemies' little brother.
"Anyway, they're not like Moonriders or Dara or anything really bad, but they'll sneak up on us and they'll certainly kick us while we're down, and we don't leave bodies or trumps with them. On the other hand, we can probably intimidate them into spilling what they know about our real enemies.
"So, yeah, we probably need to send someone to find Solange, because we're not as easy about letting the kids go play in traffic as Dad was. I'll figure out who after I ask a few questions."
[OOC: And unless there's a PC jumping up and down to do this, it may be a 'send a bunch of inactive PCs on a snark hunt time. I'm sure I have some railway shares here somewhere..]
He looks across the room. "Edan, how busy are you? I need someone to go to Rebma and interview Brother Whatsisface the tutor and see what we can learn."
Edan, realizing the Trump mission has just been postponed or cancelled, nods. "I serve at the pleasure of the King." His expression falls, then, as he realizes just where he's going, and what he has to do when he comes back.
"I...at some point, I have to go apologize to Julian. It would be better in person. I crossed Arden without his leave." A pause. "That is the other thing I have come to report. The sextant I stole from the Moonriders, it led straight to the Dragon of Arcadia. I had tea with one of her...avatars, I guess you could say. She denied involvement."
Random nods. "I can take care of Julian. You were on my business and he and I have this working relationship where we ignore things that would cause us to come into conflict if they can be ignored. 'That which the King did not see did not happen.'
"So if you need to, do so, but don't seek him out and don't offer it up if he decides to let the matter pass." Random pauses. "That's just family advice, not kingly instructions."
Edan nods in affirmation. This is advice that makes things easy.
Random changes the subject. "OK, you're my closest expert on that Dragon. What, if anything, should we do about the Dragon? Send her more tea?"
Brij giggles.
"If I'm your expert, you're in trouble. It was a complex thing, that meeting. And I am mindful of what Julian would say, amongst others. Not the least of whom, my sister."
He recounts the conversation, perhaps not word for word, but the gist of it. "...When all is said and done, what Arcadia wants is the twins. She stormed Castle Amber for them. She claimed that She's known them for years, and they would eventually return to Her out of their own free will. It is as good an explanation for their accelerated growth as any. She admitted they are the strongest candidates to continue the godhood. I think giving her what She wants would be a tremendous mistake. Not to mention, Adonis sacrificed himself in part to prevent that from happening." He drains his drink, realizing now why people drink alcohol; near-invisible blue flames blow out of his mouth as he sighs.
"I couldn't even finish a recap with Paige on the subject, distractions aside. Rage through a Trump connection gives me a headache. Two easy questions did come to the fore when I spoke with the Dragon, though: Why is the Grove of the Unicorn where it is? And who are 'my sister's children' who serve in Rebma?"
Random tugs on his hair. "Yeah. OK, first: You know this isn't red, right? Mysteries of the Eternal Cosmos are answered by the department of your Dad and Aunt. Second? You'll meet them in Remba, and you've confirmed a suspicion long-held. There's a dragon in the forest near Rebma and it has children. Some of them are in Rebma, serving K- Celina. You'll recognize them when you see them: They're men from the waist up and fish from the waist down. And thirty feet long, all muscle. And they don't talk. They just sorta lurk at you."
Brij nods. "I hadn't connected them to the Dragon. I wonder if they have intermediate goddesses like Arden."
Random looks at her. "No reason they couldn't, so they probably do. We should avoid them."
The king turns back to Edan. "Do those answers help? How did the question come up?"
"The meet and greet started with an exchange of stories," Edan says. "I chose Huon's march towards Rebma as mine, as it seemed a neutral subject and threatening her didn't really help the conversation. She also claimed to be out of touch with the rest of the universe. She spoke of Finndo...said that Osric took up arms in the cause of their mother, and Finndo stayed out of the civil war that followed. They were allowed to take tasks for, ah, the good of Amber, afterward. 'That was why my grandson Adonis Adonai was suffered to live,' she said."
"That's quite a logical jump," replied Random. "'The Cautionary Tales of Prince Osric and Prince Finndo' were staples of a young Prince's education in Dad's castle, and he never had to tell any of them himself. Connection to Adonis is sorta ... unclear to me. Did you get a read on how 'A' leads to 'B'? And before you ask, I am following my own advice and asking a redhead.
"Anyway, I'm sure I don't quite get it, but I have learned not to have tea with a dragon, other than my wife."
Brij smiles at Edan. "Will you be staying long Edan? Should we send word to Hannah that you're here?"
Edan smiles slightly. "She may be busy. If she is around and would see me, then yes. Otherwise, I will write her a note before heading to Rebma. I will return soon, after all." He turns to the king and adds, "As for Adonis, I was hoping you could shed more light on that story. The impression I got was that of the clearing of onus. That the children of Finndo and Arcadia, the goddesses, they were unacceptable. If Finndo's sacrifice redeemed them in some way, that would carry over to Adonis." He makes a face. "I know. It's thin, very thin."
Random grunts. "... I'll take that under advisement, and see if I can come up with a different answer."
Last modified: 28 June 2014