Moontrumper

Brita is pulling out a series of pencils, paints, paper, and brushes from her coat pockets. She sets up on the table and flips her sketchbook to a clean page. "Have you Always Been First?" She asks as she begins to do quick sketch studies.

First looks at Brita's sketchbook. "Are there special instructions for me? Can I speak while you cast this spell?" She sits back. "I have not always been first. I was 'Youngest' for a time, but as my generation became born, I was 'First' of them." She grins. "I am also competitive, and so I like being first at any number of things. As flaws go, it is one I have learned to live with.

"What it is like to have such a large family of powerful sorcerers? Do you have protocols to keep you from crossing each other's spheres?"

Brita continues sketching as she says, "There are No Instructions other than Be Yourself." She smiles. "Feel Free to Speak -- the More of You I Learn, the Better the Connection. Connections are how We Work Together." She flips a page and starts a sketch of First that appears younger. "We Are a Very Entangled Family, but Our Generation seems to be Making an Effort to Meld Our Spheres -- Using Our Strengths."

Vere watches with interest as Brita sketches, the process of Trump creation clearly intriguing to him. "The constant squabbling of our elders seems to have made the majority of our generation eager to work together," he puts in. "There are certain understandings about not treading upon the workings and schemes of other members of the Family, but no hard and fast rules."

"How interesting. We have rules for such things and protections against encroachments, but most of our people choose to work together for common goals even though they could act for their own interests. What were your elders squabbling about? It would seem they only had to divide up an infinitely sized pie..."

Vere frowns slightly. "I never met him, but my impression of King Oberon is that he controlled his children through withholding affection and approval, and set them against each other in many competitive endeavours. It does not appear to have been an environment conducive to fostering bonds among siblings."

Brita continues sketching but she nods. "Grand Da Made Life a Competition for His Children -- every One Seeking the Goal of His Favor. It Must have been Exhausting and Possibly Why Many spent more time Away."

First nods. "And yet they always wanted to go back. Our places have gravity, it seems. I would have loved to ask your grandfather why it was the way it was. I wonder if it had been different for the first generation."

"The first places do have 'gravity." Robin nods, "Besides, the wish-fulfillment of the infinite pie only charms for so long before one wants to... feel Reality, again." It sounds like she's talking from experience. "And among our Elders, challenge the Real again." She smiles grimly.

"Many of the younger generation were either raised in secrecy or far away from Amber. We're still learning how to deal with so many of us. I expect that, after some time, there will be rules and protocols in place, but for now everyone's acting on a good faith basis."

"Our cousin Reid was born far before most of us, and raised among the family," Vere notes. "And in many ways he was more like to an Elder than to most of us."

Brita's pencil scratches across the page, oddly loud. She rips it out of the pad, folding it and tucking it into a pocket and then starts a new image.

First takes that in and leans back, changing the subject. "It has been very difficult to keep up with your family from the shadow we have been in. How many of you are there?"

"Well that depends on what you mean by 'us.'" Robin shrugs. "If you mean Descendants of Oberon, right now I know of 11 living children, 30-plus living grandchildren, and probably a hundred or so living great grandchildren."

"The grandkids are harder to count because one of my brothers was a fertility god who took his duties very seriously." She confides with a wry smile.

"If you mean, Lords of Order Allied with the Ordered Realms, my best guess is 11 living elders, 25 or so living cousins, 10 or so living younger cousins."

"I can't give you exact numbers because we're gaining and losing relatives at a pretty volatile rate right now." Robin smiles sadly to Brita. She misses Reid too. And Daeon. And Lucas. And Cambina. And Aisling. And, and, and.

"Most of the members of our parents' generation kept their children hidden," Vere adds. "We still cannot say for certain that all have come forward."

She thinks about this. "It is an interesting stratagem, and one I clearly do not understand. Was there risk to the offspring that wasn't also applied to the children of the previous generation?"

"Oh, yes." Robin snorts. "The children of the previous generation. Many of our aunts and uncles were ruthless in how they treated with one another. Known children would be an exploitable weakness. And dangerous to the children as well."

Robin shrugs, "I was kept anonymously hidden near Amber. Both Vere and Brita were raised in secret in Shadow."

"A sad commentary on the state of the Family in those days," Vere acknowledges.

"I Wouldn't have Known I was Hidden. I Just Lived where I was Born. My Mother came Infrequently to Visit," Brita notes. She has switched to a set of colored pencils and is adjusting hues on the latest image of First. "Did You have Multiple Parents or are you of the Chaosan Style of Reproduction?"

"Is a prison a prison when one is not aware of the freedom one is deprived of? My generation never knew the Land of Youth, but our parents feel the loss greatly. We have parents, in pairs, as is common for ordered beings. But our travels have been wide and we have seen so much variety in both order and chaos, that it may not be as simple an answer as you imagine. For your purposes, assume we are people and not Lords of the Living Void."

She turns to Brita. "How did you find out, if I may ask, Sister?"

"How did I Find Out What? That I was Hidden?" Brita stops sketching for a moment as she thinks back. "I Guess Not Until the Interaction with Other Cousins in Similar Circumstances; When we Came Together in Static Amber After Asgard's Ragnarok, The Black Road or The Black Rain or However It Manifested Across the Vast Shadows." Brita nods to Vere at the mention of cousins. "Before That, it was Just Where I Lived." she shrugs. There is a studious avoidance of mentioning her mentoring and guiding cousin.

Vere nods. "My mother was the Priestess-Queen of our land, and my father spoken of as a god. I knew of Amber growing up, but as a mythic land where the gods best loved by the Great Goddess dwelt. I never left the shadow of my birth until Father brought me to Amber to protect me during the climax of the war with Chaos."

Robin is just listening and oiling sleepy firelizards.

She nods. It's not her people's way, but it's not incredible to her. First changes the subject, slightly. "Is belief in Gods a commonplace amongst your people? Is it all centered on your family? I've seen so many religions in my travels, and I am still considered very young."

"All Shadows appear to Have God Beliefs," Brita notes. Then in a complete aside she asks, "What did You Think of My Grandmare's Intrusion into Your Bout with My Brother? Has Your Family had Contact with Her Before?"

Vere makes a small, indistinct movement of his hand at Brita's first statement. But whatever he might have been preparing to say is left unsaid as she continues with her question about the Unicorn.

"It served my purpose. I'd already learned about your brother's skill and his pattern-blade, I had shown my own skill and prevented a skirmish between the sides. That we were able to stop before blood was drawn allowed me to get myself captured, as I desired."

First shrugs, and realizes that perhaps Brita was more interested in general unicorn thoughts than the specific interruption.

"If it were not that place and that being, I would have assumed it was sorcery that set the pieces in motion.

"From a metaphysical point of view, we know of the Unicorn of old, as it is Amber's heraldic emblem, but I know of no member of our people who have encountered her. It will be a thing to recall in our future reminisces."

"For us, as well," Vere says with a smile and a slight nod of the head. "She does not appear often." He looks thoughtful. "Her horn is said to have extraordinary healing properties..."

"It most certainly does." Robin affirms strongly. "Because of my nearness to Amber, me and mine knew a little more. Mainly that she was real and had been seen before. I've seen her a couple of times now and yet every time is still monumental and..." Robin pauses and then decides to say it anyway, "sacred."

First listens closely. "It felt important, more real and more momentous than any choice I'd made before, as if the consequences were on another plane. The city had some of that, but it was more stark with the Unicorn was present. I felt inclined to follow what I thought her wishes were.

"I can understand why your people have holy knights dedicated to her service.

Vere falls silent and appears to be considering something other than the conversation at hand.

"Had holy knights." Robin corrects. "There are no longer any Orders dedicated to the Unicorn. And I only know of one surviving knight; my cousin Fletcher who is both very old and somewhat lost in time I think. But yes, being-ness in the Unicorn's presence is more 'Real', as we like to say. Xanadu is more 'Real' as well. I believe we use the word to convey a certain... potency of existence that exists in some of our strongholds and icons."

First looks surprised. "That sounds like a story worth hearing, or even more than one story." She turns to Robin. "My elders speak of the 'realness' of Tir-na Nógth. It's interesting that we both use the same metaphor. I hadn't connected it with the Unicorn."

Vere's attention returns to his companions, and he says, "I have some misgivings about the term 'Real,' as I feel it can be used as an excuse to treat the inhabitants of Shadow as being unworthy of consideration. But I have not found any other term which adequately conveys the same..." he smiles at Robin, "...potency of existence."

Robin smiles back at Vere. Words can be fun, sometimes.

"The realness of Tir-na Nog'th..." Robin repeats as she turns back to First. "I was taught that any realness Tir-na Nog'th possessed was as a reflection of Amber's realness or because of its proximity thereof. But as I venture out into a universe that keeps widening, I find myself doubting that rather... Amber-centric explanation. Do your elders speak of why they think it's 'real'?"

First shakes her head, in a bizarrely fluid gesture that nevertheless expresses her opinion clearly to the Amberites. "Not in ways I can understand. 'Thinness', 'reflections', 'you'll just feel it, when we return'. I had no referent until the Unicorn. I wish we had access to our history. I feel as if being refugees has changed us, even as we tried to keep it from doing so."

"If you do not mind, what is the story your people tell of how you lost Tir-na Nog'th?" One side of Vere's mouth quirks up slightly. "The way we hear it your people are the aggressors, and we the innocent victims of that aggression."

Brita is continuing to paint, but her focus now appears to be all on one image. Her head is cocked to one side.

"There are two stories to tell, that of the rescue and that of the escape." First is a skilled storyteller, and her technique and skill are obvious to the Amberites.

"Do you wish to hear of The Great Calamity, and how bodies fell from Tir into the sea until the harbor of Amber was so thick with them that ships could not pass and sharks ate our people for months? The Queen excercised mighty magics to break the city free from it and anchor it to Amber, but it trapped the survivors as wraiths, suspended between life and another state. It is said this drove her mad.

"Or do you wish the tale of The Great Escape, when the people broke their chains and returned to the mortal world, and tried to fight their way to freedom? If we tell that one, I will want to hear how it is told in Amber, as well. I suspect that it is different from the stories I was raised on."

Robin's eyes are bright with curiosity. "I'd like to hear both if we may. And I'd be glad to trade you the story of how the Escape is told in Amber."

Vere smiles at Robin and nods his agreement, then settles into listening and analyzing mode.

"The Escape, first, then," says First. "That story I know from those who recall it, including The Marshall. At last the efforts to break the people free of the chains of the unworld and were able to descend the stair. They bypassed the sentinel castle and moved to the city below, taking what they needed to survive and destroying the weapons of their foes. They regrouped, knowing the foe could gather infinite forces against them if they were to stay in the breast of the foeman.

"The Knights waited as long as they could, joined by stragglers until the remnant survivors were all present and, knowing the foe had a force waiting to prevent them, moved to force the issue. They met the foe by a falls, where the water would run red with blood in the next days and weeks, and attempted to force the pass.

"The foe placed mighty warrior princes between the knights and their goal, and the battle was joined. Those who could do so fought and died many times that day, and bodies were everywhere. The Queen's personal valet was said to been killed a hundred times, who had never died before. The foes died if killed but once, but fought like demons until they did so."

First continues, telling the tales of moonriders living and dead, and how they fought agains the unbeatable demons and how they put all their magic and power into the fight, but they could not break out.

"When it was clear that all would die if we continued, the Marshall himself called a halt, as the sun was rising. Rather than wait for the reinforcements the Amberites had summoned, they surrendered, and accepted the terms of the King of Amber."

She pauses. "So, yes, they were aggressors, but they were also escaped prisoners. We don't discuss it much, but they should've headed for the pass straight from the mountain. It was unwise to be tempted by the jewel before them, and it cost them the battle."

Vere listens intently, then looks at Robin.

Brita cocks her head but does not look up from her Art. "Escapees Battling for Freedom puts a Different Light on The Scene, Although Heading Away from Occupied Lands First Would have been Brighter."

First doesn't disagree.

Robin shakes her head a little but doesn't contradict her Cousin.

Then she straightens up and says, "This is the story I had from my father, who wasn't born yet at the time of the war. He had the story from his father, the King, and his older brothers who fought in that war.

"The invaders chose their time well. Neither the King nor several of the Princes of Amber were in residence when they struck. At the full moon of the equinox, the Riders came down the stairs of Tir-na N'oght in force; their horses taking them where no ordinary mount could travel, their hooves not touching the ground.

"Wisely they avoided the Castle, where Queen Dybele and her young daughter, Florimel, were ensconced. And Prince Caine removed the Fleet that was Amber's jewel and lifeblood from the Harbor. But for three days, the Riders sacked and looted the city of Amber unanwered, carving their name deep into the memories of its citizens."

"Three days was enough for the outriding Princes of Amber to regroup and form their strategies. Prince Eric led the forces of the Castle that took and held the Ghoststairs so that the Riders could not return whence they came. Princes Benedict and Corwin held the pass at Jones Falls to prevent the Riders from escaping into Arden. And the King himself and Prince Bleys brought a mighty force of Altamarean knights in a sweep that cleared the city.

"The Riders fled the city in the direction of Arden and met Prince Benedict and Prince Corwin and their small force at Jones Falls. Ballads are still sung about the battle that was fought there. It is said that it took a week to clear the dead. But in the end, the Princes were victorious.

"The Riders that yet lived surrendered and were exiled from the Ordered Lands. But we remember those days well and there is no love lost between our peoples." Robin finishes solemnly.

"Until now." She perks up. "Where hope may find seed in soil gentled by the passing of years."

First nods. "It's not how I have ever heard it, and it suggests more intent and cunning than I think was actually involved, but the two tales seem compatible.

"I cannot promise love, in part because your uncles and mine all remember the battle all too well. I would like to see our two peoples not at war."

"So that is the Escape, as told be both sides." Vere purses his lips. "One can see how both could be accurate portrayals of how the same event was seen by the opposing sides. What of the Calamity?"

She nods. "This is a more of a legend than a history. It is far older than the Escape, but it is foundational to our understanding of the realms. "She takes a deep breath and starts.

"The Calamity is a legend of ours, and tells the tale of the great disaster that engulfed Tir na Nogth. The City of Old was a normal city, connected by a magical path to Amber and Paris. None knew why the calamity happened, or if they know they will not say.

"They say there were signs: earthquakes, tidal waves, and magical intrusions into the realm. There are no records, becuase there could not be. But the city was failing, somehow. Despite this, it was unexpected when it began to happen.

"The Queen called out to her brother for aid, in the time of crisis, and he did not answer. In her desperation she committed the kind of mighty magics that should only come with the death of a monarch of such power. The star of cities became linked to Amber, which gave it substance and a reference to keep it from dissipating, but only when the moon was full. She was unable to save most of the people. She nearly died of the effort, and some say it drove her to despair.

"Many, many people could not phase with the city and dropped from the sky into the harbor of Amber. As below, so above. The bodies were in Tir's harbor as well. Survivors wanted to leave, and found that they could not.

"Amber had saved them, by whatever magics linked it. And Amber had trapped them, by the same magics. Amber, who could have saved the Queen and the people, but didn't. Amber who forgot Tir or treated it as a place of haunted scrying.

"The survivors learned much of Amber, because their city became an echo of it. And they learned that Amber was not an ally."

"The Queen's brother?" Vere seems mildly surprised. "I believe this is the first I have ever heard that she had a sibling."

Robin is just listening but her expression is one of grim anticipation.

"Could be Just a Familial Relation as with The Uncles and Aunts," Brita notes. "Easier to Say Brother in Stories Passed down to Emphasize the Lack of Aid."

First says, "The legend is very clear, Oberon was the Queen's brother, and not just in the sense of brother monarch. It was why we attended the funeral. They had other siblings."

Vere blinks. "Indeed." He does not appear to have anything further to say.

Robin gives a frustrated chirp and shakes her head. King Oberon! "Do you know who the other siblings are?" she asks.

She shrugs, in her infinitely fluid manner. "I know what the legends say. Oberon the Fae, Maeve of the Air, Carol the Great and Moins, who was also known as Elissa the Wandering Goddess. Each Monarch of a city unparalleled in all the worlds. Fast Friends and defenders who turned on each other as the threat of Chaos receded, and then eventually uneasy peace was made, but not before royal blood was spilled. The Queen of Air and Darkness is the last survivor of that generation, and of their children from the legendary age, only a few names remain in mythic tales, such as the Lay of Roland at Roncesvalles."

Vere glances at Robin and quirks an eyebrow upwards before returning his gaze to First. "Our Elders have not been as forthcoming to us about the relationships of the Four Monarchs. Carol is so far forgotten that I had assumed him to be a Shadow of King Corwin, cast backwards in time to before Corwin took the throne of Paris."

She observes his glances and doesn't say anything. "That would be impressive. I'd have to look carefully at the time streams involved, but they may not cross at all, and thus it could be that they are the same person at different times. But it is more likely that they are tied somehow but are different individuals. Becuase the gap for that time magic seems impossibly long."

Robin takes a minute to send Vere a 'what?' glance. His agile mind must have connected something she missed. Because she doesn't get it.

Then she starts to think. Robin's eyes are turned inward as she searches her scattered memories. Oberon the Fae, hunh? Briefly her mind touches on Lady Morgne and Ophiuchus and their... concern that the Queen of Air and Darkness had been sighted. Maybe they were another distant branch of Family,

"Is King Mark one of those legendary names?" Robin asks.

Vere nods slightly.

First's brow furrows in thought. She answers slowly. "I don't know, I read a lot of mythology as a child, but that's not a name I remember. Unless you mean King Conomark of Dumnonia? He was supposedly Tristan's Uncle and destroyed Camelot after Camlann."

Robin shakes her head. "None of that sounds familiar."

As Robin continues to remember, she makes an 'Ooooooh' sound. "Recently we came across two small, opposing, and ancient forces and negotiated a peace between them. One side was Fae; they were named Ophiuchus yclept the Serpent Bearer, and Morgne, the Lady of the Lake. They talked about King Mark and Basina and were very wary of the Queen of Air and Darkness. The other sides was Lady Laudine of Lothian and Sir Ywain; they spoke of Lady Viviane, Merlin, Arthur and Esclados the Red."

Then she turns to Vere. "Verde. Laudine even told me that there were four great cities ruled by brothers and sisters who fought with one another. I thought it was just a Shadow myth."

Brita notes "Shadow Myth is Often Based on Our Realities." She appears to be putting the finishing touches on the Trump Sketch. She sits back at last and looks up at First. "I Would Try This Now. I Warn you that there Could be Discomfort if you are Not Attuned to This Magic."

Vere appears thoughtful but adds nothing else at this point.

"Arthur is one of the legendary Princes and was a great defender of the Great Circle," replies First. "His castle of Camelot in Avalon was a bulwark. The tale of King Conomark is tied to him." She looks sad. "I would love to hear more from these ancients, it might be possible to match legend to history through them.

"Sister, I trust you. And I could not bear Tizona if I were not made of strongwomen stuff." She sits up in her seat, her hands on her knees, which seem to float back a bit towards her.

Brita nods decisively and gets up, taking her sketch Into the next room. There, she turns her attention on the Sketch.

Robin quiets down for the Trump test, but she indicates with a hand wave that she'll continue later.

Vere also remains silent, watching First carefully to observe her reaction to Trump contact.

Brita stares at the trump sketch and aligns her mind with the image, willing it to become real and to make contact.

It's more difficult than any contact she's ever tried, as if First were a long distance away in shadow, or if she were asleep or feverish.

In the end, she comes away with nothing more than a vague feeling of assurance that First is not dead.

In the outer room, First sits expectantly, and doesn't seem to react at all. Certainly she doesn't have a massive, blinding headache or collapse. She shows no signs of discomfort at all.

Brita returns to the others. "Did You Feel Anything?" she asks First. To her cousins she notes, "The Connection was Odd - Distant or Distorted. I Wonder if The Sorceried that Separated These Kin from Us Still Affects them."

Vere sighs slightly. "One did hope for something. Although, of course, negative results are also important information."

Robin nods, "It was definitely worth a try, Brita."

First sharks her head. "What is supposed to happen? Perhaps I need more understanding. What is the theory behind this tool?"

As Vere has nothing other than theoretical knowledge regarding Trump he remains silent and allows Brita to respond.

Robin is curious to see what Brita's reply will be, so she also holds her tongue.

Brita shrugs slightly as she works out in her head how to say this politely. "It is Reaching for or perhaps Connecting To Your Essence, Your Reality. It May not have Worked Due to My Lack of Knowledge of the Real You Or Your Reality is Far from My Understanding." She shrugs again. "I can Continue to Work on It as We Learn More about Each Other." She cants her head to the side. "What Did you Think of My Brother as you Fought With Him?"

Vere looked as though he were about to say something after Brita's statement about trump contact, but when she makes an abrupt change in conversation he follows her lead. "The fight was certainly very interesting from outside the duel," he acknowledges.

Robin nods but has nothing else to add.

"It was interesting from within the circle as well," First says. 'Your brother is known to us, and many are curious about him. He moves like he's our kinsman and is clearly a leader amongst your people. I am his equal with the sword, but he shows great promise." For those that were there, it seems a reasonable summary of the contest, at least from her point of view. She may be exaggerating Conner's skill relative to hers, but not by much.

"I hope one day to exchange stories with him, as I have with you, Sister. I would ask him about his blade."

"Your own sword is most interesting," Vere notes. " Tizón, is it not? Is it the work of Weyland?"

She nods. "Forged by Weyland and tempered in the blood of Fraenir and the fires of Avernum, it was said to have been presented to Charlemagne, stolen by his enemies, and recovered by Orlolando the Mad. For a time the turncoat Firumbras had it, but it passed to my people as a spoil of war when we razed the mountain redoubts of the Klybesians in and around Montsecure." First looks around. "I can feel it nearby, when it's not with me. The bond with the sword is remarkable."

"How did you come to bear it?" Vere asks.

Robin's mind wanders a bit to her own Pattern-blade vision. She also starts wondering how she's going to 'find' a sheath that will hold a sword that can cut through stone.

"After we captured it from the Klybesians, it was determined that it could not be given, but must be won. Therefore, after consultation with our priests, my father promised it to the first of our people who could win the Race To Madness, from both sides. It took me a year and a day to do so and I started from the harder side.

"That was where I met Edan," she adds, betraying several emotions but only briefly. It's a mix of regret and resignation, but it's not tremendously strong.

Vere nods. He does not intrude upon her privacy by commenting on Edan, but moves the conversation back to the subject of the swords. "Does bearing it come with any particular duty? Such blades are most commonly borne either by monarchs or their champions, it seems."

Robin smiles at her Beloved's adroit phrasing. She is curious as well but the way she would have asked would have been so much more awkward.

"Historically, it was the sword of the champion of Paris. It's hard to say if the duty came with the blade or the blade came with the duty. With Paris being destroyed, and the blade taken by conquest, it's unclear to me how one would tell if there was a duty associated with it, and if I were derelict in performing it. Or what that might entail.

"If it is subtle, I don't perceive it. I am quite sure I'd be pursuing a peaceful settlement between our peoples regardless of the presence or absence of the sword.

"Do your Princes who have carried Oberon's sword report any geasa upon themselves?"

Vere smiles slightly. "With Conner, it would be hard to tell the difference between a geas and his own sense of duty. The other swords are held by our elders, and they are sparse with information." The smile is replaced by a considering look. "If it was associated with Paris of Old, one is left to wonder whether there would be a connection with the new Paris of King Corwin."

"Was there a Sword for Tir-na N'oght?" asks Robin.

"This is somewhere between legend and myth, with physical manifestations that make it hard to completely discount. The stories say that there was. A sword was forged for Princess Morgen the Water-born. Forged on the steps to Tir-na Nogth the blade Flammarion was the crowning achievement of the art of the Smith. It has been lost since time immemorial, although some say Prince Corwin reclaimed it."

Vere tilts his head slightly. "King Corwin currently bears the sword Grayswandir, which was created by Weyland."

First nods. "Of course. What was it called before it was Corwin's?"

Vere feels a mental probing. Someone is trying to contact him via Trump.

"Someone is seeking to contact me," Vere says. "Feel free to continue your conversation." He stands and walks a few feet away from the others. "Who is it?" Vere asks quietly. He does his best to shield his thoughts as he cautiously opens his mind the the contact, wary of a possible psychic attack.

Random appears, followed shortly by the view of the throne room. "Hey Vere, glad I caught you at home. I hear you've got a bonus moonrider out there. How's that working out?"

Vere's eyes shoot over to Robin for a second, then back to the vision of Random. "Your Majesty," he says, in a somewhat louder voice. "I am surprised to hear from you. How are you feeling?"

Brita, who has been quiet through the sword discussion, is instantly up and laying a hand on Vere's shoulder when she hears his words. Her other hand has a knife held down by her leg. "Uncle-King," she acknowledges as she joins the Trump.

"Hey Brita. To answer the question one of you is asking and one of you is not asking, I'm feeling more myself. All plans for oath-swearing are hereby cancelled and instead we're going back to business-as-mostly-normal, except that the Queen is accused of treason and subject to arrest and things that follow.

"She's not secretly listening in invisibly, is she? We probably ought to keep that to family."

Robin catches Vere's glance and makes sure her firelizards are settled upon her. She figures if this is a brise arrier her job is too grab First and run.

But she takes her time to explain to First, "This is the magic Brita was attempting before. Somewhere the King is holding a Card or a Sketch of Vere and is concentrating on it. Thus he and Vere are in communication mind-to-mind. Aaannndd now Brita has joined the conversation. We will not be joined unless we touch someone who is in contact. I suggest we don't for now." She finishes with a tight smile.

Robin feels a press of mental contact, like a fire-lizard waking up. The fire-lizards seem aware of the contact.

First nods, and says, "That's fascinating. Are they speaking to the King of Xanadu? I would speak to him, if allowed."

Vere relaxes, a faint and almost undetectable change in his demeanor. "That is excellent news to hear, Your Majesty. To answer your original question, yes, First to the Fray, the Daughter of the High Marshall of the Moonriders, is here, and we have engaged in much pleasant and informative conversation. She has expressed a desire to speak with you."

Robin gets a strange look on her face as she calmly walks over to the hearth and picks up her new very slicely sword.

"Brita? I could use your help here. I think I'm getting a Trump call. But, to my knowledge, no one has a Trump of me. Or it could be something else trying to contact me..."

Brita squeezes Vere's shoulder, bows slightly towards Random and says, "Excuse me, Uncle Random." She moves to take a similar pose behind Robin on the side away from her sword arm.

"Okay," Robin mutters, "Let's see."

Robin rather ungracefully accepts the mental contact.

Random looks after Brita, "By the way, we're calling everyone, so you'll probably each be visited by a restless spirit. But they're likely to have breakfast, if you need some. So the easy way to handle this would be to bring you all back here. Is there any reason you can think of not to do that? I'd probably make some of my advisors here mighty worried if I took off by Trump just now, or if I started talking to the Moon Princess that way...."

Vere smiles slightly. "Amusing you should say that, Your Majesty. We are at the lighthouse, and there appears to be a ghost. I was hoping to unravel that mystery, but..." he shrugs. "Your commands of course take precedence. Someone is calling Robin now. One of the calls you speak of, I would assume?" He glances over at First. "His Majesty is calling us back to Xanadu," he explains.

Random shifts on the throne. Vere thinks he's making a point of actually being on the throne, so that Vere knows he's where he says he is. "I think Corwin is in charge of all haunted gothic lighthouse ghosts, it's sort of his prince-in-black-and-silver wheelhouse, so you'll want to give him a courtesy check-in before swerving into his lane. I'm willing to listen if you can make a case for the urgency of a restlessly dead lighthousekeeper, but I think we can safely save it for later.

"How quickly can you sail back?"

First comes over to Vere, but doesn't touch him. "Does he wish to speak to me?", she asks.

Vere turns his head to look at her. "Not via direct mental contact, at this time," he answers. "But he would like us to sail back to Xanadu immediately." He looks back at the card. "I see no reason why we cannot return at once, Your Majesty. We have Brita's Skilbladnir. Have you any other commands or news we should have?" He pauses, then adds delicately, "And have you been informed of what I found when Edan and I went on the trip we had discussed with you?"

"Great, Bring her up to the castle when you get here. Wear red cloaks to indicate you're my supporters. Also, to disguise that you're escorting a Moon Princess to the castle. What else? Don't take any wooden sovereigns, that's about it. Oh, and do tell me the story of what you found when you when up the stairs that aren't really there. Maybe wait until we're alone, though."

Before Vere can reply, Random says, "If you turn so that she's over your shoulder, I'll be able to ge a look-see at your prisoner. I'm curious."

Vere nods, then glances over at where Robin and Brita are having their own conversation. As he lets his gaze drift to them he turns in a natural way, coincidentally bringing the card and First into the required position so that Random can see her. He calls out, "Cousin Brita, the King would have us return to Xanadu via your ship."

Brita looks over from her position behind Robin. "Skidbladnir is At The King's Service. Could we Also Travel Via Cousin Fletcher?" and she nods at Robin.

"Indeed," Vere says in answer to Random. "Brita asks if it would be better for us to travel there via Fletcher's trump, as he is apparently the one in converse with Robin, and I take it is near where you are?"

Random considers. "You can, she can't, so you can't either. We need a little time to clean the place up and make it look like we're a Kingdom, not a disaster area. Brita should take as close to 36 hours to arrive as possible. Don't share that part."

Vere nods. "Very good, Your Majesty. " He pauses, then adds in a less formal tone, "And it was very good to hear from you, Uncle."

"It's very good to be audible, and I mean that most sincerely. So, Queen outlawed, but dangerous. Take a happy sail back to Xanadu, giving us time to straighten up the place, and wear red cloaks when you get here. Call in if you need something. Brita's bound to have somebody's Trump."

Unless Vere interrupts him, Random closes the contact.

Vere smiles at First. "And that is how a Trump contact is supposed to work," he explains.

"Thank you for the demonstration, It seems like a very useful tool. I hope we can make them work for me."