Vere is up before dawn the next morning and swiftly awakens his companions. He makes no efforts to awaken his hosts, but neither does he seek to leave stealthily.
They will depart the house of the Paresh as soon as the ladies are awakened, and head into the jungle surrounding the clearing. Once out of sight of the house Vere begins shifting them through shadows, getting them away from any inhabited lands, and eventually bringing them back out onto a beach. The ocean here is calm and placid, and looking back into the interior there is no sign of a mountain.
He relaxes then, and turns to the ladies. "Lady Morgne," he asks, "Do you have a way to locate Ophiuchus across the Realms? My powers are better suited to finding a place than a person."
She ponders for a moment. "I may. It is not without risk and uncertainty, including that I have never used it to cross universes. If it works, I will be able to see what he sees. That does not mean I will understand it, or know where he is.
"It is impolite to do this without his permission, but I expect he will forgive the offense."
Laudine looks non-plussed. "Do you have a less parlous way to contact Sir Robin?"
Vere smiles very slightly. "I am still young in the ways of my powers, my ladies," he explains. "But if there is a danger to this method I can try what may be done. But without having any idea of where they may be..." he shrugs. "I can make no promises."
Unless they have something else to add he will begin walking along the beach, slowly shifting them through shadows. Vere has never sought a person in shadow before, and although he knows it is not an efficient way of finding someone (else how would Family hide from one another?) he sets his mind firmly to the belief that since Robin wishes for him to find her he will do so. He makes no conscious efforts at shifting, letting his unconscious mind pick the details to shift as he concentrates on his desire to be with Robin once again. He thinks of her as he walks, recalls their times together, lets his desire to be with her again fill him and guide him.
Vere begins his walk, adding a detail here, erasing another there, with his three charges close behind him. The beach turns rocky, and moves away from the sea, and the trees come closer to the tide-mark. The trees themselves change, moving from tropical to a more temperate mode. The birds and other life becomes more common, and more like Amber.
It's hard to say how long they've walked. Part of the nature of traveling shadows is the sun is not a reliable indicator of the passage of time. Eventually Ywain suggests they stop and let the ladies rest.
Vere isn’t sure, but the forest looks a lot like Arden.
Vere finds a comfortable spot for a rest and calls a halt. He check with the ladies to see how they are faring, then leaves Ywain on guard and ventures alone a short ways into the forest, looking for signs of human (or other) activity.
Vere looks around, finding several overgrown groves and a few remnants of buildings. It looks like the war has been here and swept elsewhere.
There's a sign, crudely carved on a wooden plaque, nailed to the remnants of a barn. "By Order of the Warden and the King, Wind Grove is off-limits to a citizens."
If Vere recalls correctly, Wind Grove was in Arden, near Amber.
Vere tilts his head to one side, remembering back to the endless sessions of the Regency Council. Wind Grove was the settlement fired by Rangers angry at encroachment into Arden, then rebuilt. The rebuilding would appear not to have been permanent.
He examines the area, determining how long ago the current damage took place, while he mentally adjusts his mental map, calculating the relative position of Amber from Wind Grove, based on its position relative to the beach.
Vere's best determination is that the colonists were probably driven out by the encroaching Green, and that the Rangers cleared everyone out because they couldn't protect them. Since the growth is unnatural and uneven, it's hard to say how long ago it was. Vere's mental map is excellent, as usual, and he's sure he knows the exact route to Amber, as well as a slower but safer route along the beach.
The encroaching Green? Vere stiffens, and turns his attention to the vegetation, observing it more intently with both mundane and sorcerous sight.
Nothing is actively magical nor is there the tell-tell deepness to the green of the life he sees all around, and yet it seems to Vere that the Green has been here, but could not support the invasion, or chose to move in another direction.
Just as a disease can be cured, but still permanently scar someone, so the grove looks scarred.
There doesn't seem to be an active risk from the plants.
Vere relaxes, gives the area a more thorough mundane search for anything of interest, and then returns to the beach.
"We are near Amber," he tells the ladies. "And while that city is sadly fallen from what she was, I think heading there is our best plan."
Unless his travelling companions have anything to say which will cause a change to that plan, he will lead them on the slower, but safer, course along the coastline.
The coastline is mostly natural here. It looks like there were some farms and even local gathering places, but no one is living here now. Perhaps they moved closer to the city.
Amber is no more than an hour's ride on the horses they don't have, or perhaps closer if the Psyche were here. Judging from the sun, Vere estimates that the city could be made before dark.
[If you go...]
Vere has long since oriented himself to Amber. Over the next ridge they will be visible to the Southgate of the city. How does he want to approach?
Vere informs the ladies that they are approaching Amber, and asks how they are faring. He tells them that his plan is to announce their presence to the guards at the gate and have a carriage called for to take them to the castle, where they can wash off the stains of travel and get a good meal and a night's rest before continuing their journey. If they have any concerns or comments regarding this plan he will certainly want to hear them. If not, then they will do as he has outlined.
The ladies are as happy to ride, if horses are available. Apparently carriages are a sign that one is older or infirm.
Then horses it will be (and Vere makes a mental note to stop treating the ladies as though they were delicate).
The carriage master [or stablemaster] wants to know if Vere wishes word sent to the castle of his arrival. Caine's personal insignia is flying from the battlements, as is Benedict's pennant.
Vere thanks the stablemaster and agrees that word to the castle should be sent, along with a request for rooms for the night and an interview with the Regent if he has the time. As they choose horses and wait for them to be saddled Vere will inquire about the current state of Amber, how long Prince Benedict has been in the city, and the condition of the stables since Stablemaster Donovan's departure, paying as much attention to the stablemaster and grooms' nonverbal reactions as to what they actually say.
Once horses are ready Vere will lead the party up Mt Kolvir, playing tour guide and showing his guests the sights and answering any questions they might have about Amber.
The stable master didn't notice the second banner until yesterday, but it might've been the day before that when his Highness came in. He's heard that Stripey is in residence, so the Prince most likely rode in. He didn't stop at these stables, but he wouldn't need to with Stripey.
The stable master and the grooms have no complaints about the castle, but they seem much more interested in moving on to Xanadu than staying in Amber and working in the Castle.
The messages are sent by a fast courier. The party is greeted at the top of the hill, and their horses are seen to. Vere, the knight, and the ladies are escorted into a minor receiving room where Benedict and Caine are waiting.
Caine smiles, but it doesn't look sincere. "Vere, you always bring us such interesting puzzles. Who are your guests?"
Vere bows formally and says, "Princes Benedict and Caine of Amber, may I present Lady Laudine of Lothian, Countess of Landuc, and her Champion, Sir Ywain. And Lady Morgne, Princess and Lady of the Lake. They are Powers of Old, and I am escorting them in search of Lady Morgne's Champion, Sir Ophiuchus, who currently travels with the Lady Robin." He smiles thinly. "We were separated while hellriding."
Benedict looks sympathetic. Caine replies, "I have no word from Lady Robin, but I will ask after her. Hell riding in pairs is difficult."
Benedict rises. "Greetings, travellers. I am Benedict, son of Oberon of Amber, and my brother Caine is regent in this Kingdom. I have heard of your realms, but it has been many, many years. Tell me, who was Queen when last you knew Amber?"
Ywain looks confused. "Amber has no Queen, my Prince, only the King."
Benedict nods. "Interesting. I shall wish to hear more of your time at a later date. But first, your journey was undoubtedly long. Would you care to rest? It is still several hours until the evening meal."
The Countess Luadine bows. "Your highness, we would be happy to. While our travels have been comfortable," she half-bows towards Vere, "we have not felt the safety of castle walls and royal protectors in some long time."
Caine calls a midshipman to show them to their rooms. Vere is not dismissed.
Once they are gone, with promises of an informal dinner later, Caine turns to Vere.
"This was not what I expected when last we spoke, Prince Vere. Oh, and if you're getting yourself a beverage, please pour one of each of us."
"Of course, Uncle," Vere replies. He will get the two princes whatever they want, then pour a drink from himself before answering Caine's implied question.
"It was not what I expected, either, Uncle. But the universe is endlessly diverting, in both senses of the word. I returned to Uncle Julian with the supplies and while there Robin reported on a situation involving those ladies. They were locked into an ancient binding, a truce agreement between their respective courts which had warred endlessly for many generations. It was a working of great power created by a Sorceress of the name of Basina. They guarded sites of power called Methrin and Merlin's Fonts. But the two courts had long ago moved far away from the border they guarded as the result of some ancient 'change' in the nature of Reality. The ladies lacked the power to break the binding and were locked into an endless waiting." Vere pauses and takes a sip of his drink before continuing. "Robin believed she could break the binding, but doing so might cause ... unpredictable results when the nature of Shadow snapped back from the unlocked binding. So I joined her, to guide us away from that place after the binding was undone and the ladies and their champions freed."
Vere pauses again, taking another sip, and waits for comments or questions from his uncles.
Benedict looks at Caine, then back at Vere. "We know almost nothing of a time when there was not a Queen in Amber, except that there was such a time. We don't know how long that period was, what came before it, how it came to an end, or who or what the people, practices, rivalries, wars, and legends of that time.
"Whatever the reality of our new guests, we should make sure that ancient grudge does not break to new mutiny. Corwin has an ancient warrior of Paris at his court who was freed by Garrett from some sort of sorcerous trap."
Caine drinks about half his drink. "It's concerning how frequently that is happening."
Vere nods. "It seems as though old bindings and prisons are failing. I take it the Moonriders and their Queen are of the same sort." He tilts his head to one side. "I confess that a part of my suggestion to the ladies that they seek to find a place for themselves in Rebma, Paris, or Xanadu was the thought that it is better to have such Powers where they can be watched, than loosed upon the Universe with no idea of what they might do."
Benedict considers this. Caine seems less contemplative. "We can certainly try to sound them out about their feuds and the rules and such here. It's not their home, even if they think it is, so if they can leave old grudges then there may be a place for them. You say the one whose partner is missing was living underwater? Have you talked to Celina about them? She might have concerns about introducing them."
Benedict turns to Vere. "You've travelled with them; do you have any concerns about their intentions?"
Vere considers this for a moment before answering. "No concerns as such. They have spent time out of mind locked in a static deadlock, and right now they are grateful for their freedom from that situation. When offered the chance to search for their original courts neither of the ladies evidenced any interest in doing so." He shrugs very slightly. "That of course might change once they become accustomed to their freedom. I do not know their true natures, and have not spent enough time with them to offer any insights into their deeper characters."
Benedict looks out the window. "Sometimes it's best not to try to find the court you left. It is never the same as the one you eventually find."
Caine looks at Vere. "Did they seem to indicate familiarity with Amber? Or comment on changes?"
"No more than what they said here," Vere answers. "Their knowledge of it seems of an age long past. They said nothing as we traveled through it on our way to the castle." He examines Caine and Benedict, trying to gauge their thoughts and moods from their expressions and body language. "It seems to me they could prove an interesting source of information on ancient times. It is a pity Cambina did not live to question them. She would have found them fascinating, I believe."
Caine nods. "Or the holes in their tales would have driven her mad," replies Caine. "Given what you tell me, I don't expect them to have any actionable intelligence about our enemies, although I will question them, which they seem to expect. Do you want anything from them?"
Benedict shakes his head. "Anything lost or hidden long enough to involve these people should stay buried." He shifts in his chair. "Are we settled on the Navy?"
Caine nods. "Yes, as long as you’ll return it if something comes up."
Benedict nods. "Then I shall depart. Thank you brother." He turns his head towards Vere. "Nephew. Good luck with settling your charges."
"Thank you, Uncle," Vere says with a respectful nod. He waits, suspecting that Caine will have something more to say to him once Benedict departs.
Benedict leaves, and Caine turns to Vere.
"I have... unanchored suspicions, which I am told is not out of character for me. Would you be willing to undertake a reconnaissance mission for me? It would take no more than a night, but you would need to recruit a cousin of yours to help."
"A particular cousin, Uncle, or just another pair of hands or eyes?" Vere smiles very slightly.
Caine nods encouragingly. "Any cousin you are willing to trust with your life is fine with me. This is a yes or no question, with the only third option being 'No, but I will be willing to act as acting regent while you go away'. Each option has consequences."
"Am I allowed to know the nature of the task before I accept, or is blind acceptance a part of the task?" Vere's smile grows slightly wider.
Caine looks at Vere, nonplussed. "Well, it is the nature of the Navy to rely for its success on young men and women who follow orders without explanation.
"It is the nature of rulers to be somewhat indirect and rhetorically cry out 'who will rid me of this troublesome priest?' and then be able to be shocked with the priest is gotten rid of.
"It is the nature of spymasters to compartmentalize their tasks, so that no failure is too catastrophic.
"And it is the nature of Princes of Amber to use people for their own ends without over-clarifying their plans."
Caine brushes a non-existent speck of dust off the linen and lacework at his cuff. "So assume whatever combination of those factors you wish, and add in my slight disappointment that what I thought was quite clear was an obvious conclusion is not so.
"It is not a matter I wish discussed if you do not assist."
"You would expect my cousins to leap at the chance of carrying out a task for one of our elders, without question?" Vere asks. "I confess myself unable to guess which of them you have been dealing with, to lead you to such an assumption." His smile grows wide for a second before disappearing. "That amusing note aside, I am the sort of dutiful young man who is inclined to accept assignments from duly constituted authority. I will of course carry out this reconnaissance for you, Uncle."
Caine has his admiral persona on. He pays no attention to any changes in Vere's face. "Thank you, Nephew. I will give you a letter to take to King Random in Xanadu. After giving it to him, you will arrange a spotter and ascend the stairs to Tirna n'Ogth and visit the castle there, learning what you can of the ghosts of the guests you have brought to me and their purpose and goals in the true realms. Before leaving Xanadu, brief King Random on the matter and then return to me.
"If you have no questions, then you are dismissed."
"Yes, sir." There is no expression in Vere's voice or on his face. "Only two questions, sir. First, where shall I wait until you have written the letter? Secondly, will you trump me to King Random, or do I need to arrange transit for myself?"
Caine looks up, and reaches over to get a small, portable writing desk. "Take this opportunity to gather anything you need, or to tell your friends you are leaving, if you wish. When you return, I will send you through with my message. I can send you through to your father, if you prefer."
He holds a quill, ready to begin writing.
Vere leaves the room, then pauses to consider his options. He glances upwards, to where he assumes his traveling companions have been taken, but after a moment shakes his head, deciding that an explanation that he would be going to Xanadu ahead of them could not be made without also revealing that they were being investigated. He considers whether there is anything he wants or needs that can't be obtained quickly in Xanadu. After a brief consideration he decides that there is nothing. He gives Caine a few more minutes to finish his letter, then opens the door and reenters the room.
Vere walks in as Caine is folding a piece of paper. He hands the note to Vere and says "Please see that the King reads this. If he objects to my plan, he will tell you you cannot go. In which case, return to me." He pulls out a deck of the family playing cards. "To whom shall I send you in Xanadu?" he asks.
"To the King, I think," Vere says. "My only reasons for going to Father would be purely personal, and they are not pressing at this time."
Caine stares at the card, rapidly bringing it into his reality. "It’s Caine. I'm in Amber with Vere. Can you take him through to Xanadu, he's running an errand for me. Nothing secret, per se, just sensitive. As you say. I'll pass him through."
Caine reaches out and takes Vere's hand, and passes him through to Xanadu.
Bleys steps through and looks around. He's wearing a long pair of shorts and carrying a long board tucked under his arm. He drops it and nods to Sir Ophiuchus. "Well met, niece. This is a very interesting old place you've found here. For a place lost to the mists of time, it seems to have frequent visitors.
"What do you already know of it, and what do we have yet to discover?"
Robin cocks her head, words blown to the currents by the magnitude of the question. After a moment, she shakes her head and takes refuge in the formal niceties.
"Prince Bleys, may I present Sir Ophiuchus, yclept The Serpent-Bearer, formerly Guardian of Methrin's Font, sworn to the Lady of the Lake, Morgne. And his mount, Eckford.
"Sir Ophiuchus, may I present my Uncle, Prince Bleys of Amber and Xanadu. I think you both know Peep, Ooot & Chirrup."
Because she's Robin, she doesn't leave out the non-humanforms in the group.
Bleys bows from the neck. "Al-Ḥawwa", he says.
Sir Ophiuchus looks genuinely pleased and bows back.
Robin's brow furrows as she gathers her thoughts to take a stab at Bleys' questions. "Allllll I know of this place, sir, is what I've seen and experienced: it's dark, underwater, seems to be made of silver, has an inactive version of the Family Tracery on the floor, was broken into some time ago. It contains a plundered sarcophagus - maybe Lir's, a cairn for someone else, some miscellaneous old bodies... oh, and packs one heck of a Family vision." For a moment, that goofy smile lights her face again.
"I've heard that silver towers are a sign of Uncle Corwin. And I'm seeing tones of him all over the place, but that could just be Shadow Lies. As to what we have yet to discover...." Robin's brow furrows again, "Discovery is infinite, isn't it sir? Perhaps if you could tell me what you're trying to do, I can find better tools for it. Otherwise..." She shakes her head. She doesn't really understand the question.
Bleys looks up at the roof. "Yes, this was the throne room of Corwin's Silver Towers of the Moon, or perhaps a close shadow thereof. It has been possibly half a millennium since I stood here. Imagine banners of black and silver up the walls, and silver candelabra lighting it, and chandeliers spreading candlelight across all of it."
Robin casts her eyes around, visualizing it. Yep, another bastion of civilized glory built as a fortress in the middle of a city. She's not sure if she prefers the dark, soggy version or not. But half a millennium... that's gotta bring back some memories for Bleys. She's glad he can enjoy it.
He kneels down and scrapes mud off the floor with his dagger. "It's not really the pattern on the floor, but it's meant to evoke it for those of us with the blood. Funny how we can't not draw the thing, when we're trying."
Well, yep. After all, it's what makes Lords of Order Lords of Order. Besides, not only is the thing very pervasive, but based on her recent vision, it's robust as hell in its survival agenda.
He stands and wipes his hands off on his long shorts. "Discovery is infinite, and a genuine pleasure to the curious mind. What I was wondering could also be stated as 'what unanswered questions do you have about this place?' My list of unanswered questions include 'Who has been here recently?' and 'Where does Lir fit into Corwin's tower?'. If you are wondering,this used to be above water."
Ah! Comradely 'we', not instructional 'we.' Okay.
Robin nods, "Yep, there are arrows in the antechamber, which I guessed would probably have been fired while the city had air in the corridors instead of water." The Ranger cocks her head as she thinks about what she wants to know.
"I guess I am curious about what you mean by 'recently'? I wasn't able to get a time-stamp or separate trails for the arrow-wielders, the corpses or the buried. I was kind of hoping to get Vere here so he could talk to anyone who might still be around... Besides, he would just love this place." She smiles fondly.
For herself, since she's already had what she suspects is the best fight in the place and there's only seafood to eat... meh. Robin has plenty of curiosity; it's just mostly about eatin' and fightin' and other 'guy' stuff.
"I definitely would like to get this place back on the Family's radar and I'd like to at least get Sir Ophiuchus on the trail of the defilement." Robin thinks out loud.
"But mostly, I guess I'm wondering if there is a specific reason this place is no longer on the radar. And if so, what that reason is."
"Defilement?" Bleys says. Then he looks at the tomb, "Oh, yes. Sir Ophiuchus, I am given to understand that the young Queen of Rebma, a true heir of Queen Moins, had found the resting place of Lir and had relieved him of his duty to protect the throne. She assigned that duty to her own Dux Bellorum and thus bestowed upon him the duty and privilege of bearing her sword. All was done in accordance with law and tradition."
Ophiuchus visibly relaxes as Bleys speaks. "It would not surprise me if King Corwin had accidentally built his towers atop Lir's tomb. We are all attracted to the same places. It would also explain why it sunk.
"Corwin thought this place long-destroyed. I wonder..." Bleys holds up his hand, and begins making a number of obscure, hard-to-watch hand motions, after which he says a few words that are not in Thari, but a language that is almost painful to hear.
"Yes, this is in the shadow that Benedict retreated to. He is styled 'Protector' here. And this place is very near to Rebma, unless I miss my guess. I suspect that this place is semi-deserted because no one knows where it is.
"I can certainly make sure that Corwin, Random, and Benedict know about it, and Celina as well. If I were to counsel prudence, I would tell you to speak with Corwin, if you wished to be cautious before having Vere raise any ghosts, but I find that prudence keeps one from trying things, and I so prefer to learn from experience.
"You could probably ride to Rebma from here, if that is the direction you and your hippocampean friend wish to go."
"Eventually. I'd still like to get in touch with Vere as soon as I can. I kind of jumped overboard in a tsunami on him... again. I'm sure he's not worried or anything, but..." She shrugs. "And I need to reunite Sir Ophiuchus with his Lady soonest. Iiiiiii suppose it might be quicker to Xanadu from Rebma than from here." She raises an eyebrow to Ophiuchus. What does he think?
"Was not Xanadu our eventual destination, Sir Robin?" Bleys looks over at Robin when Ophiuchus uses that honorific, but doesn't say anything. "Perhaps we would arrive first."
"Oh, yes." Robin chuckles. So many paths, so little brain. "To Xanadu, via Rebma." She nods before turning back to Bleys.
"With regards to radaring, thank you, Uncle." Robin bows slightly. "I'd appreciate it if you could please let Corwin, Random, Benedict and Celina know. And would you please let them know, I'll be glad" (well, not glad, but prepared) "to talk to them about it myself as soon as we cross paths."
Bleys seems a bit surprised by her bow. "My father banned bowing when on campaign. I can see why. But as you say, I shall add it to my dossier of family gossip to pass along at the appropriate time, if you don't see them first. I'm not known for checking in regularly."
"And while I am never a fan of prudence," (Understatment!) "I think Vere's already in trouble for... preemptive chatting with the dead. So yes, thank you for the hint. We'll ask Corwin first."
"Preemptive chatting", Bleys repeats. "What a lovely turn of phrase." Bleys frowns. "I think I should run a few magical tests to see if this place is 'off our radar' because of something someone did to make it so."
Robin nods, that makes sense. "Iiiittttt also might be important to note that local Shadow changed, uh, quite a bit just recently too." Look innocent, look innocent!
"Really?" says Bleys, running his hand along the edge of the sarcophagus. "That does sound noteworthy. What did it change from, and how did the change happen?"
Robin looks over to Sir Ophiuchus, welcoming him to add to or correct the report she's about to make. There's a brief time of nervous fluffing as Robin gets her thoughts together and then,
"A short Hellswim from here, there was a Shadow that served as a border between two historically feuding cultures; one of the Lake and one of the land. The land-folks spoke of Avalon, Paris, Arthur, Lady Vivian and her son, Merlin. They called their land Broceliande and their home Trescesson. Lady Laudine and her Champion, Ywain, are -- hopefully -- still with Vere.
"The lake-folks talked of King Mark, Basina, the Summerlands, Moins, Auberon and Tir fo Thuinn. I don't remember if I heard what their land was called other than 'the Lake.' Lady Morgne is also hopefully still with Vere. Her Champion is with me." She smiles at Ophiuchus.
"Other than those four, I don't think there was anyone else left around. The course of history seemed to have swept by them, leaving them locked in their facing sentry posts.
"The 'lock' was a sorcerous binding to a... Shadow-knot." Robin gestures with her hands, drawing an imaginary cloth up through a hole made by her circled thumb and forefinger. "Most of the Shadow was inaccessible making it impossible for armed forces to cross." She cinches her thumb and forefinger in demonstration. "It was kind of cool, really." A moment of enthusiasm creeps in.
"Anyway, I called Vere in to handle the sorcerous bit and the emergency escape bit while I... undid the knot?" Again, Robin has difficulty putting into words the things she only thinks about in patterns and sounds.
"Weeeelllll, as the majority of the Shadow became suddenly accessible again... You know, tsunamis, storms, probably some serious earth movement too. Maybe a volcano, eventually. Shadow ripples... I don't do this kind of work often so I’m not sure exactly what the ramifications are going to be. And oh hey -- Sunken Avalon." Robin gestures around her.
Then she shrugs. Yep, that's the way it is.
Bleys arches an eyebrow and lowers his voice. "This Un-knotting of yours is definitely a thing to talk about but first I must tell you about the worlds and peoples you are encountering. Tir fo Thuin is an old, old name for Rebma, in an extinct language that also gave us Tir na nÓg. I've only seen it in writings.
"Have you ever been to Tirna N’Ógth, Robin? If you are smart, and careful, and you try very hard you can see through the illusion it presents of being a reflection of Amber. If you find the old temple library, you can find prophecies on the walls, telling of "the three dooms": The Doom of Tirna nÓgth, the Doom of Tir fo Thuinn, and the Doom of Tir GanAm. Tir was apparently full of apocalyptic visionaries. This one they wrote down.
"That's the last place I saw that name. I think I shall want to know more of your new old friend's history, if you don’t mind my questioning him."
As Bleys speaks, Robin's thoughts swirl around in her mind like a flock of starlings; noisy starlings. But she keeps her lips closed as the thought-flock flows, twists and hops from tree to tree.
Bleys' lowered voice has started one thought-bird screeching out a warning. 'Scary Uncle, Scary Uncle!'
To which another thought-bird peeps, 'Don't freeze! Don't flee! We have to talk in order to build and gain trust.'
A third familiar thought-bird caws in response, 'Stupid words!'
At that point, that whole wing of Robin's thought-flock breaks into squabbling, so she just ignores them.
Meanwhile, another group of thought-bird tips their heads at Bleys' confirmation that yeah, old stuff is old. Okay, even really old. From that group, a few thought-birds fly off peeping wondering why older stuff is given more importance than just old stuff. Because it's all the past anyway. Excerpt for her where sometimes it's both the past and the future.
The image of a hourglass being vigorously shaken flashes through her mind; the sand particles bouncing both ways through the waist. Then Robin wonders if it's really like that for everyone, they just don't say or don't notice.
One of her more alert thought-bird peeps that Bleys is still talking -- pay attention!
Heh. Since "smart" and "careful" aren't Robin words, the flock doesn't plan on going to Tirna N'Ogth any time soon. Except for a few idiot thought-birds who want to do the forbidden stuff just 'cause. Besides, Robin's brow furrows, isn't Tir off-limits since poor, lovely, book-snotty Cambina met her fate there? There's more squabbling among Robin's thought-flock over accepting the rules of Family versus sheer cussedness.
All of which disturbs the morbid birds in Robin's thought-flock that were savoring the words 'Doom, Doom, Doom' while steadfastly ignoring the birds who were mourning the Doom of Amber that had already come. Assuming of course, that 'Tir GanAm' means Amber -- which seems pretty likely to Robin's more poetry-oriented thought-birds.
And Bleys is asking a question -- focus!
Mentally thanking Fiona for giving her the ability to keep all that behind her lips, Robin nods to her Uncle. "Understood, sir.
"With regards to Sir Ophiuchus, you are of course free to ask him anything you like. But I will stand by his desire to answer or not as he pleases." She nods to the Knight. Her eyes tell him that while she can't protect him from Bleys, she's pretty sure that she can hold Bleys long enough for Ophiuchus to escape if he wants out of there.
Bleys nods, and turns to Sir Ophiuchus.
"Sir Ophiuchus, you have heard how little I know of your era, of the time from whence you have been freed by the offices of my niece. We think that those who could have remembered those days did not want us to, and perhaps because of the same conflicts that led you to be set to watch a lonely outpost far from the life of your lords.
"It is both amazing and fascinating that you have re-awakened from those days, but we must assure ourselves that the feuds of those days do not also re-awaken, either through you or through the reaction of others to you. I would like your permission to ask you some questions, sorcerously."
Sir Ophiuchus looks grave. "It is a hard thing you ask, for my wife is my normal sorcerous defender and she is not present. Is this a prerequisite to admission to Tir of Thuin?"
Bleys looks nonplussed. "I would not imagine your reception there would be the same if you refused me as if you cooperated, but I will not stop you from going to the Pearl of the Sea. Queen Celina is advised by those significantly more ruthless than I am, in any case. And she does not always choose to know what her servants, magical and otherwise, do in her name."
"I'd feel better if Lady Morgne were here."
"As would we all. I will give you my word that my only intent is to ascertain any theat to my family or their thrones. Does that help?"
"It does, my Prince, actually. Go ahead."
Bleys nods. "Thank you. Given the age of these memories and instructions, this might not even work. Robin, if you would be so kind as to focus on the specific details of the Pattern? I may need to borrow some of your energy."
Interesting, Robin thinks, so there are ways for Pattern users to work together. And it's not like she doesn't have a surfeit of Patterness right now. But Bleys drawing on her? Robin ticks unhappily as she nods.
And recalls the dance, the blade, the will that was just so recently with her. Following Bleys' request, Robin summons up her Heritage and sets the wings of her mind flying through the curves and twists of her Heritage.
Bleys pulls out a piece of chalk and begins drawing large white lines on the dias. "Please step inside, Sir Ophiuchus. This should be quite easy."
Sir Ophiuchus looks at Robin and then steps into Bleys' drawing.
Robin looks back to Sir Ophiuchus and nods. If this all goes horribly wrong and Bleys drains the life out of her, she'll make sure to collapse across the chalk lines -- and if lucky, entangling Bleys on the way down. Hopefully, giving Ophiuchus and Eckford time to bolt.
Orrrrr maybe it'll be fine.
In the end, the spell is anti-climatic. Bleys fiddles with his chalk lines once, but otherwise doesn't speak.
"Well, I can detect no magical compulsions to assassinate the King or do other anti-social things, so I am going to give you a qualified pass and let my brother deal with you as he sees fit. Incidentally, Robin, did you notice the subtle pattern work someone has done here in this room? I'm surprised it's not echoing throughout time and projecting images on the walls."
Robin starts to snicker, then gets distracted by...
He waves his arms. "This is not a safe place to do major magics of any school. Whatever happened here might still be dangerous."
"I didn't do any major magics." Robin protests, not quite hitting the whiny teenage pitch.
Catching her own tone, she relaxes. "I did some passive sensing. And a little while later, I got majorally Pattern-visioned." That goofy grin darts across her face one more. "And yes, it echoed off the walls. But I didn't start it or invite it. It just happened." Like these things do, adds her one-shouldered shrug.
Bleys draws a half-circle on his own hand in chalk and stares at it. "Possibly related, residual effects or some such. An old spell finds paths to release itself." He turns to Robin. Are you familiar with the concept of grounding an item to prevent lightning from striking? Same thing can apply to magic. Deep in Pattern territory is no place to be experimenting with the Principle of Time. It's not even a good idea in Amber, at the moment, and it's not the city it was.
"What was your vision?"
"I got to ride Corwin as he wielded Grayswandir against Benedict while defending his son's Pattern-walk." Big grin. While she doesn't say it out loud, the 'It was AWESOME!' hangs in the currents of the room.
"Buuuutttt... doesn't one normally ground things to actually attract otherwise random lightning strikes and thereby channel the energy away safely?" Robin says, trying to make sense of Bleys' metaphor. "And I thought one didn't play with Time deep in Order territory because of the overwhelming adherence of the Realms to cause then effect. And the limits of Oberon-inspired lifeforms to processing experiences non-sequentially. Iiiiii don't understand what you are saying, Uncle."
Robin bites her lip in confusion.
Bleys holds up his hand, stopping her. "Hmm. We'll get back to grounding in a moment, but I'll add that major magic tends to cause some amount of otherwise random (or seemingly random, but non-ordered) thaumatic energy to gather and that is what needs to be grounded. I can show you the equations for it as a waste-product, like heat or light or sound from an engine, but it does require some grounding in what we mean by maths. It has to do with the interference matrices of the local shadow and the real world.
"Back on topic, or on my topic in this case, had you heard the story of that fight before, from Merlin? Both Corwin and Benedict deny it, or at least deflect the subject when it's brought up, so it's absolutely fascinating to have possibly of confirmation. The things, Robin, that a King will lie about range from the mundane to the vital, and finding them out and deciding who to share them with is the primary function of most courtiers.
"Can you describe in detail any parts of the combat? Did you feel bulkier, by chance? Corwin has a few stone more meat on his bones than you do."
"Oh." Robin blinks a little as she parses all that. "Ah, no I did not hear it from Merlin. I just assumed it was standard knowledge to the Family. Buuuuuttt if Kings are lying around the subject, perhaps this couti..." nope, she can't even say it, "perhaps this niece will keep her mouth shut until she talks to the Kings in question." After all, if she should ask Corwin's permission regarding this place, that fight seems like it'd be even more permission-worthy.
Though the apologetic grin she sends to Bleys says she doesn't blame him for trying. Ignorant youth is an amazing source of intel.
"I can say that if I were being indiscreet I could describe the combat in detail. I did not feel bulkier, but I was using the footwork of a taller person and the swordsweeps of a person with lower dangly bits as opposed to upper dangly bits. My physical structure at the time, while not the one I am used to, was mine." She tips her head as she thinks further.
"The only cognitive dissonances I noticed were: I was far faster than I'm used to and my fighting style was a different school than I had been taught. Oh, and my connection to Sword and Pattern was..." She stops, caught between a goofy grin and a shrug. Yeah.
Bleys pays close attention to her tale and notes her reticence. "Yes, it's hard to explain wielding a pattern-sword to someone who isn't attuned, but I've seen that look on your face before. In fact I've worn it."
He holds up his hand. "But I do want to warn you about Kings and their secrets. Sometimes if the matter is such that the King does not want it discussed... well, let's just say that not every canary that ever died in a coal mine died of natural causes." He looks at Robin conspiratorially, as if he's just shared a secret with her.
Robin cocks an eyebrow but keeps her voice and mien friendly. "Sir. I served anonymously under both King Oberon and King Eric, counted Asiling as a friend, have been caught up in the difficulties between yourself and Prince Huon and am always very careful around Prince Martin. I understand the dangers. But at this point, I have to hope that our diminishing numbers and new-found détente will provide some... consideration. Otherwise, we're all going to hell in a handbasket." She shakes her head. Yeah, it doesn't feel natural or safe to her either but when the alternative is oblivion, even trust is worth a try.
Bleys nods. "I didn't mean to imply that you were new to this. I agree that we should try to avoid that handbasket, if we can, but remember that Caine was trying to be merciful when he stashed Aisling inside a cage and that didn't work out very well. I just want to make sure you know to have someone ready to come looking for you if you decide to beard the lion in his den. I won't belabor the point."
Robin nods as well. Message received, BIG (possibly Random-sized) safety line before talking to Corwin or Benedict about it.
"But as I recall, we were discussing getting you and your charges back to Rebma. Did you want me to pass you through or will you shadow-shift to that fair city?"
Robin catches herself before she bows again. "If you would be so kind, Uncle, could you pass us through, please? Given Rebma's current state of security, my usual technique with guards and my current... uncertain welcome there, it'd probably be easier to go straight to the top." And hope that Conner is elsewhere.
"Will her aunt do?"
Robin nods. "Certainly."
Bleys pulls out a sealed pouch, and thinks better of opening it. He makes a quick casting. "This is trickier than it seems, but only because it will have to stand up to my using an ordered magic inside it."
Bleys blows a bubble of air and it grows larger until it is about the size of a wooden chest. He reaches into it and opens his trump deck, expertly shuffling through the cards to find the one he seeks.
'Oooo', Robin thinks. Then 'Darn sorcerers, he's not going to have to dry his cards out later.'
He concentrates on the card and smiles. "Yes, well enough. No, not the gallows this time, I'm standing next to Lir's sepulcher, as a matter of fact. Yes, I imagine you would. Well, work before pleasure and I'm not alone, my dear. If you'd like to question an expert or two, I could send them through to you. Oh, and their seahorses. I suspect they'll talk to you without resorting to that. It's Robin, and a knight named Sir Ophiuchus. I'm sure they'll be happy to chat. Just bring them through out of doors, darling."
The imagined half-a-conversation from Llewella gets Robin chuckling under her breath.
Bleys holds his hand out, but says, "Fetch your man and horses."
She nods once more. And looks around Ophiuchus and Eckford. (Hopefully, the poor knight is out of the magic circle.)
"This is a contact-based travel magic," she tells Ophiuchus. "It's not dangerous but it will transport us pretty quickly. Is there anything I need do for you or Eckford?"
Robin takes Ophiuchus' hand and then reaches to grasps Bleys'.
Bleys takes her hand firmly and says, "thank you." and passes Robin, Ophiuchus, the sea-horses, and her fire-lizards through to Llewella.
Last modified: 13 May 2016