Vere slumps for a moment, allowing the stress of what has happened to wash through him, then throws it off with a shake. He turns to his passengers. "Is everyone all right?" he asks them.
Ywain stretches his lean fighter's frame. "Yes, Lord Magician, I am. I do not feel the call of the basin, which I did even when I left the tower before. I am free, thanks to you and Sir Robin."
Morgne looks around. "Where have we landed, Prince Vere?"
The lagoon, as Vere looks around, has clearly been populated at some point in the past, although it seems abandoned. Vere can see the sunken remains of a sailing ship, which looks as if it may have burned at anchor. On the shore there are a number of bits of wreckage. It's not very recognizable. The wreck may be years old.
While the lagoon is becalmed, there must be some kind of magic involved, because beyond the mouth of the lagoon there is a raging storm wall. If it's what passes for normal here, Vere may be far from the centers of Order.
"I do not know, my lady," Vere replies. "The journey was... somewhat fraught." He gestures toward the storm outside. "I do not wish to hazard that with the Psyche in her current condition. While I could take us all to my father and avoid any other entanglements I am somewhat of a believer in fate and meaning and I would rather like to see where we are to determine if there is a reason for us being here."
He bows his head slightly to the two ladies. "If on the other hand you would wish to speed to a safe destination I shall be happy to see to that instead."
Morgne nods her head. "I'm sure Ophiuchus is fine. He's with your mate, Sir Robin. Do you have a small boat to take us ashore or should we conjure one? I don't think we need to raise the wreck over there."
Laudine looks at the storm. "Even with all of our sorcerous powers, I mislike the look of that storm." Ywain nods at that.
Vere examines the wreck, and then the shore, with his Third Eye. While doing so he replies, "If you can summon a small craft for us then I should be grateful if you would do so. I do not have one myself." He does not mention that he is also interested to see whether their magical powers will operate as they expect in this shadow.
To his third eye, the wreck is non-existent. It is a transient thing, neither alive nor 'real', nor solid rock. He sees the magic of the two witches, reaching into the water and pulling up a boat. It is either from this wreck or an earlier one. While the hull is staved in, the boat seems to be magically free of water.
When Vere turns his third eye to the land, he sees the great volcano rising from the sea. He also sees glimmers of something along the shore, but he's not sure what it is.
Ywain offers to help him into the boat.
Vere lifts an eyebrow at the offer of assistance. "Thank you," he says politely. He makes certain the Psyche is firmly anchored before he joins the other three in the boat. He allows Ywain to row them in, and stands watching the shore with both mortal and sorcerous sight.
"Ladies," he says as they draw near to the beach. "Do you see anything odd about the shore? Something magical, perhaps?"
Morgne frowns but Laudine replies. "The whole place is magical, and slightly wrong. This is taking more effort than it should, and not in the way that sorcery in the Cities of High Order does."
Morgne is still not responding. With his third eye, Vere sees a line from her to the holes in the boat. Laudine keeps talking. "Looks like someone made it ashore. There's a boat pulled above the waterline and some crates and luggage that looks to have been opened. Half-a dozen men, maybe more. I don't see any sign they stayed here long."
Vere nods, then raises a hand as they draw close to the beach when the water is only a couple of feet deep. "Hold, please," he says. "I do not wish us to set foot on the land until I have examined it more closely." He sweeps his gaze up and down the beach, searching for anything out of the ordinary with both mortal sight and the Third Eye.
If he sees nothing then he will ease out of the boat and approach the beach on foot, stopping just before the shore. He'll kneel down and examine the beach more carefully, then raise his eyes to examine the crates, luggage, and the tale the tracks in the sand tell.
It's hard to see details with the third eye. The island is real, but there's something that feels slightly off, magically, here.
When Vere looks at the scene, the story he sees is a boat, maybe a launch from the wreck whose mast is still sticking out of the lagoon. It's pulled up into the vegetation. There are some crates and a large set of what might've once been nice matching luggage is on the shore. It looks like they hastily went through it and proceeded inland.
There's no sign of any kind of struggle; they might not have wanted to drag so much luggage.
Vere nods thoughtfully to himself, and looks back at his companions. "Bide a moment while I test the land," he says. "There is something ... odd. I cannot quite put my finger on what it is."
Then he braces himself, and steps onto the beach. He will wait a few moments to see if anything out of the usual occurs, magically or mundanely, before signalling for the boat to come ashore.
The sky is blue and cloudless, except for the great barrier storm at the edge of the lagoon. Vere can hear the wind howl from that, at a distance, but there is just a warm tropical breeze from the sea where he stands. The boat comes in and Ywain asks Vere how far they need to drag it to keep the tides from swamping it.
It shouldn't be too far up; the high tide indicators are close.
Vere assists Ywain in pulling the boat far enough that it won't be taken out again by high tide.
Morgne and Laudine come ashore, neither caring if their clothes get wet, and head towards the abandoned containers. "I can't see anything more disconcerting than the storm," says Laudine, "but we've only just got here."
Vere smiles thinly. "Indeed," he says. "I am certain fate can supply something, if we give it time." He regards the edge of the forest, then shakes his head slightly, and turns his attention back to the ladies, dropping his sorcerous sight.
"Let us see what we can learn from these containers first," he says. "They should give us an idea of the technological level of the society from which they come, perhaps will have markings that give us information on the owners, and there might even be one or two overlooked items that reveal something about the nature of these people." As he says this he concentrates on the certainty that it is highly probable that this will be the case.
The cases are awash with clothes, and the lower layers seem to have suffered little damage. Very little has been taken from them, as if the owner meant to return but never did.
Everything is exquisitely hand made, but perhaps not all would be considered tasteful in Amber's high society.
Every item is monogrammed, including the codpieces.
They all say "L St. C"
Vere raises a single eyebrow. "Interesting," he observes, but does not elaborate. He looks at the tracks disappearing into the forest, then at the ladies. "I am minded to follow, to learn what happened to the survivors of this wreck," he says. "And to learn what foes or allies we may face. Would you prefer to remain here? Your own powers, and Ywain's prowess, should serve to guard you until I return."
Ywain protests. "Sir Vere, Sir Robin would want me to come with you. Scouting is best done pairwise." He says the last as if it is a lesson he learned long ago.
Morgne nods. "We will be fine. I want to give a proper looking over to this luggage, to see if someone has left us anything useful."
Vere nods. "If you ladies are certain. Ywain is correct that it would be best to travel together. Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable before we depart?"
Assuming they say no, or that whatever requests they have are easily and quickly complied with, Vere and Ywain will set out to follow the tracks. Vere suggests to Ywain that they keep aware to the possibility that traps or an ambush might have been set up along the route, and that they value safety and caution over speed.
Once they are on their way he also tells Ywain, "In truth, it is not Sir Vere. While Robin considers me a knight, for that I was one of the Council who helped to rule Amber under my Father the Regent before the King returned, and all the Council were given knighthoods by the King, I had taken an oath to accept no new titles or honours until my Father is restored to health. And thus I have not yet accepted the knighthood. I am Lord Vere of Amber, and Prince Vere of the Isles of the Dannan."
"As my wife has ties to Amber, I will use that title. When Sir Ophiuchus and I were first here, he spoke more in the Parisian way than he does these days. To him a knight is a horseman, and a lord is simply addressed as 'elder'. If it pleases you, I can refer to you as 'Elder Vere'".
He doesn't seem to see anything ironic or even odd in that, even though he is likely thousands of years older than Vere.
Vere chuckles quietly. "In Amber the term Elder is used by the younger generation to refer to the sons and daughters of Oberon, our parents and their siblings. I should find it strange indeed to be called such."
The trail ends at a clearing. It looks like a large farmstead has been built in the forest here. The land has been harvested, but the ground has not been re-plowed for more crops. There are a few buildings on the far side of the clearing.
Vere crouches behind cover at the edge of the clearing, eyes narrowed. He looks carefully for signs of recent habitation, judging how long it has been since the harvest, and what has been done since then, looking for smoke from chimneys, any sounds from within the buildings, or marks of recent travel across the ground.
Vere thinks the great-house is occupied. It is elevated on brick piers off the ground and has a separate cookhouse, which has smoke coming from the chimney. The house looks well-suited to the tropical environment, and large enough for dozens of occupants. It’s unclear if there are that many, but there are probably some.
Vere is looking at the back of the house.
Either it is immediately between harvest and re-plowing the land, or this field is fallow. While there are stalks and signs of a recent harvest, there has been no attempt to use the land again.
Vere gestures silently to Ywain to follow, and circles around the clearing. He moves silently, keeping his senses open and on the lookout for people, creatures, or traps.
His intent is to move until he can clearly see the front of the house. He wants to see not only what the house looks like, and whether there is anyone outside in the front, but also get a feel for whether it is fortified in any way. He wants to see whether the inhabitants believe they have anything to fear on this island.
Vere moves towards the front. The house does not seem to be fortified, but it does look as if the main living levels are on the second and third floors. The front looks odd, as if the building and grounds have changed purposes. There's a row of great oak trees leading up to the house like a trail. That kind of thing takes decades to mature. But there's also a vegetable garden and some goats corralled beneath those trees.
Ywain points to the house. "I see people through the windows," he says. It's definitely movement, and he's probably right about the people. It's too far to see what they are doing.
Vere thinks a moment, then says quietly. "You remain here, unseen. I will approach openly. If I am attacked come to my aid. If someone else comes out of the house after I have entered follow them. It is possible that there is someone else on the island they must report to, and if they send someone to report my presence I would like to know where they go. If no one else comes out, and I myself have not come back out of the building within half a watch, return to the ladies to tell them what happened."
He waits for any questions or arguments that Ywain might have, and unless they are sufficient to change his mind he will slip out of the forest, then openly approach the house. If there is no reaction to his approach he will pause when he is about halfway across the clearing and call out, "Hallo the house!"
A woman steps out of the main door. She's dressed in clothes suitable for field-work. She has a large dog next to her, but it doesn't seem hostile.
"Who goes there?" she replies.
"My name is Vere. I took shelter in your harbour from a storm. May I ask where I have landed?" He smiles, while carefully judging her reactions and capabilities.
"Oh, yes. We were told you'd arrive soon. This is Asir Island. Please, come up and join us for supper. You may invite your friends, as well. The Elder is expecting you."
Vere blinks, but shows no other reaction. "Very kind," he says. "Give the Elder my regards, and tell him we shall arrive soon. A short time and a place to freshen up before supper would be appreciated as well. We have travelled hard."
(Insert polite leave taking here)
Unless she has anything else unexpected to say Vere will return to the forest, pick up his companion, and head back to the beach. He is silent and thoughtful on the way.
When he returns to his companion, Ywain indicates to Vere that someone is watching them. There's someone quite a long way away in the forest, and he's not moving in or leaving.
Vere doesn't think the man is a farmer.
Vere nods and gestures to Ywain that he is to return to the beach. He accompanies Ywain for a short time, carefully noting what the watcher does.
If the watcher doesn't follow then once Vere thinks they are out of his sight he will signal Ywain to wait while he ducks into the underbrush and carefully and silently makes his way back to where he can observe the watcher.
If the watcher does follow then Vere will wait until he finds a place where he can duck out of sight, signal Ywain to continue towards the beach, and fade into the underbrush and wait for the watcher to come into view.
The watcher does follow, cautiously. When he comes into view, Vere sees a young man of no more than a dozen years. His skin is tanned and rough and it looks like he's used to walking and working in the tropical forest.
He hasn't spotted Vere, but if he goes much further, he'll spot the ladies on the beach.
He's unarmed, or at least not seriously armed.
Vere lets his pass his hiding spot before stepping silently into the path and saying, "Well met, young man."
He's ready for either attack or an attempt to flee, although hoping for civilized conversation.
The boy jumps, and spins. He's young and breathing heavily. "I came to warn you. Don't trust 'em. They ain't right." He looks at Vere, and explains further. "The Germanians. Not all as go in come out."
"Thank you," Vere says with a nob of his head. "I appreciate the warning. What else can you tell me about them, and about your people?"
He looks grim. "Don't really have a people much anymore. The city was destroyed in an avalanche, and most folk just fled. Some ended up here, and they didn't get on with the folk as were already here. They ... did something. People who went in that manor, they didn't come out."
Vere nods. "How long ago did this happen? And did the storm outside the harbor begin then, or later?" He starts walking again. "You may come with me to the beach, if you wish, and we can discuss how we can get you to safety."
The boy, and he is a boy, or at least not yet a man by the standards of the Isles, seems more at ease. "Don't worry about my safety, I know the woods. The avalanche was in the spring. The barrier came after. To protect against invaders. You're lucky I was nearby, you nearly wandered into 'em. If you want to meet more civilized folk, I can lead you to 'em."
Vere glances at the sun, judging how long it is until nightfall. "Come with me to the beach," he repeats, "So that my companions may also here your story."
He looks at Vere, then shakes his head. "I have to get back. You've heard my warnings. Pass them along!" The boy slips into the trees and turns and starts to run.
Vere watches him until the boy is out of sight, then shakes his head and heads back to the beach. He will pause when he reaches the end of the jungle and take a careful look at what is going on there before stepping out of the concealment of the trees.
Ywain and Laudine are petting each other's arms, as if they’d been separated for days. Morgne is looking through a book.
They look up when he steps through. Ywain looks a bit puzzled. "I thought you weren't alone, Sir Vere."
"I was not," Vere replies as he joins them. "But the lad gave me a warning, then departed." He glances around, to see what the ladies have been doing while he was gone, then continues, "Ywain may already have told you that there is a house, and we are invited to join them for supper. They appear to be related to a religious cult that I have had experience with before, in Amber. As such, they represent a mystery that I am interested in, as I sent a ship to follow them when they left Amber that was never seen again. The fate of the crew of that ship still weighs upon my conscience. There would also appear to be a separate group of people on this island, who are not fond of the people dwelling in the house." He smiles thinly. "We have been warned that not all who go into the house come out again. I must confess this rouses my interest, and leads me to wish to enter the house to see what is going on. But it might well not be safe. So I wished to see what your preferences are at this moment, for my first duty right now is to see to your safety, as I promised the Lady Robin. I could send you ahead to a place of safety while I look into this matter. Or, if you desire, I could put aside my curiosity and accompany you away from here. As I said, my promise to Robin takes precedence. The final possibility is that you accompany me to the house."
Vere tilts his head inquisitively as he waits for the ladies decision.
Vere cannot tell exactly what they've been doing, but the contents of the luggage seem to be sorted folded piles by type.
Even for a society that wears codpieces, there are a lot of codpieces, relative to everything else.
Morgne smiles. "I can't imagine anything that can stand against 3 spellcasters and two knights, so I'd say it's better to stay together."
Laudine nods. "We are old, but we don't remember enough of it to act old."
Ywain says, "It has been hundreds of generations since anyone has invited us for supper. We should not demur."
They all look back at Vere.
Vere smiles in genuine amusement. "Excellent. I confess that I am looking forward to learning more about this situation. Shall we go now, or do you have preparations to make?"
"We are ready," says Laudine. "My only regret is not knowing what this is for." She picks up a codpiece. Apparently they weren't in fashion in her era.
"And why they needed so many," adds Morgne. "They certainly look... suggestive."
"These are more extreme than most examples of this particular fashion," Vere explains. "Suggestive of a rather outgoing personality, I should hazard."
He looks at Ywain, "We should be on our guard among them, but endeavour not to appear so." Bowing to the ladies, he says, "Shall we?"
And so to sup.
They agree and follow Vere and Ywain to the front of the plantation house. "This was once a great estate," observes Morgne. "These trees formed a sheltered row to allow cool air from the river that is over that rise to blow up to the house during the hottest times."
Laudine nods. "And the climate here is clearly regularly hot. That's why you build houses on piers. That or flooding."
As Vere reaches forward to knock, the door opens inward and the same middle-aged woman smiles at them and speaks in slightly-accented Thari. "Welcome to the house. Please enter, and join us. We've just sat down, so your timing is perfect."
The house looks busy, and more like a working building than a home. To either side of the long central hallway are parlors which seem more like offices. In the back is a communal dining room with two score men and women (mostly women) bustling about it. Some have started eating.
At the head of the largest table is a familiar face to Vere. It is Elder Germaine. He looks hale, as if country life agrees with him. He smiles and rises, and the people at his table make room for four more to join them.
"Well met," Vere says. "It has been some time, has it not?" He glances quickly around the table, checking to see how many of the people here are ones he remembers from his previous visits with the Paresh and how many are newcomers. "I am pleased that you found sanctuary after your departure from Amber. May I present my companions?"
He will perform introductions formally, granting the ladies the status of nobility but giving Germaine the honour of being their host.
Germaine bows gravely to each of them in turn, responding politely to the introductions. When the preliminaries are over, he speaks to Vere. "Well met indeed. We have been expecting you since your sister and her lovers came. We were surprised by how long it was, since we expected you earlier. How is she? Recovered from her possession with no harm done, I hope?"
"Time flows strangely," Vere says. "Perhaps that is why I am not here when expected. Alas, I have not seen my sister in some time, and did not know of her possession. What can you tell me of this matter?"
"She came here some years ago. Before the great collapse, with two men. The Queen of Air and Darkness appeared to her and possessed her, but did not keep possession. Perhaps Lord Lucas and the other one scared her off. She seemed shaken. The young lord continued to the city, while she returned to her world via magics.
"That was the first time she came here, although I hear she was on Asir Island a second time."
Ywain stiffens slightly at the mention the name "Asir Island".
"Ah," Vere says, "Yes, I know now of what you refer. I did not consider it a possession, as it was so brief. My sister did speak of the vision of the Queen to me. There were no lasting effects." He tilts his head to one side and considers Germaine. "Has the Queen been seen here since then?"
Germaine shakes his head. "No, that night cured the plantation of all hauntings. We have seen no unquiet spirits for some years." The old man pauses. "I cannot say that that has been interesting, but it is at least new."
He pauses. "Our experience here with Amber has been that there are often calamities following the arrival of your people. Almost certainly mere coincidences. May I ask what brings you to Asirria?"
"Nothing deliberate on my part. A storm came up and blew us here, and we find the storm now blows constantly outside the harbor. There is perhaps a story to that?" Vere's head loses the slight tilt but his eyes seem to be focused somewhere just beyond Germaine's left shoulder. "Mind, I do not say that there is no purpose to my arrival, merely that I do not know it if there is. Fate often moves my Family where we are meant to be, as you well know."
"Purpose is much easier to see in the past than the present or future, I find," says Lady Laudine.
"Indeed, and even then it's easy to create a chain purpose where there was mere continuity," adds Lady Morgne.
Elder Germaine looks at them as if they'd said "I find the concepts of 'night' and 'day' implausible," but doesn't directly reply to their words. "The storm blew your sister into the harbor and has not abated. We avoid the lagoon, and the southern forest. It's not safe."
"Not safe?" Vere inquires. "How so?"
"Since the port was destroyed, desperate people have lived in the woods. More desperate than usual. We help any who come to our door, but some of the people are not looking for us to help them."
He waves around the building. "This used to be a plantation, but that is an enterprise that relies on having a way to market your crops. We tried to grow enough food to help the city folks, but it's going to take someone establishing more control in the city for that to be effective." He sighs. "I expect that a number of the people who should be helping us are instead falling under the influence of The Mountain."
He looks more worried by that thought than it seems to warrant. "And the Bellumites are also an issue."
Vere frowns slightly. "I am aware that there have been problems between Bellum and Asir in the past," he says, "Although I do not know the details. And what do you mean by 'the influence of The Mountain'?"
"Bellum has a valid causus belli against us. When Huon left and destroyed the town, some of the more aggressive of the survivors overran the Bellum embassy and killed the ambassador. The rival faction's ambassador was already in town and immediately declared war and departed. They have sent several raids, but there's not enough left of the government of Asirria for them to fight a full war with.
"The Mountain is the home of a cult, and she and her followers have become... dangerous since the city was destroyed. It's thought that the leader of the cult changed, but they are too secretive for anyone to know for sure."
Elder Germain sips his soup. "What is the news of Amber? It seems to be fading so much more slowly than I expected it to."
Vere nods. "That is so," he says. "Xanadu and Paris are the new centers of Reality, along with Rebma, which did not fall with Amber. Amber ... fades. It is sad, but a bittersweet sadness, since a new Creation awaits those who leave her." His attention seems not to be fully on the conversation, as though he is considering other matters while talking. "King Random rules in Xanadu, King Corwin rules in Paris, and Queen Celina rules in Rebma."
Vere frowns slightly. "What else can you tell us of this cult? I do not know that I have heard of them before. Do they have a name for themselves?"
Germaine nods. "The Querents, they call themselves, or the Questioners of the Oracle. They are not an official part of the Church Established, which perished with Asir."
He looks around the room at the people calmly eating dinner. "Apocalyptic disasters radicalize those so inclined. It is as Elder Scale foretold."
Vere smiles very thinly. "It is my impression that those inclined toward radicalization find excuse for it, apocalypse or no. And those who simply wish to get on with their lives as best they may do so in the aftermath of such disasters." He allows his gaze to follow that of Elder Germaine, regarding the peaceful dining room, before returning to Germaine. "I should probably visit the Querents before I leave, to report back to the King. Before I do so, however, I would ask if you or your people have any needs that are not being met by the life you have found. Are you content and fulfilled in this place?"
"Oh dear, you will make an interesting dinner companion," he says, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. "In my experience, many who, if they were exposed to privation or duress, would radicalize do not, simply because there is no incenting factor. It's similar to poverty. Look at these people. If that woman did not get food to eat, she might steal it, to feed her children. When adequate food is provided, she has no incentive to steal. Likewise, the simple path of the zealot is a more compelling call to a person who feels they have lost much, or been victimized."
He sighs. "It may be different in other places, but it is hard for me to imagine. You have so many advantages in your path to knowledge, young Vere. A long enough lifespan to study being not the least among those gifts."
Vere nods. "I take your point," he says, "But I shall have to collect more evidence before I can concede it. The vast majority of the poor do not turn to crime, and the majority of the oppressed do not become radicals. I would concede that environmental factors will cause such seed to flourish, where an easy life would cause them to be stillborn. But correlation is not causation."
"Indeed. If you do a study, I would be pleased to accept a copy of it for our archives." He looks at the entire party. "I have arranged rooms for your party. I hope you will stay and recover yourselves."
Vere glances at his companions, reading their body language before answering. How are they reacting to the conversation and the offer?
Lynnette takes his glance as an invitation to speak. "A generous offer, Elder, but one we can hardly do justice to. Two of our party were separated from us in the storm, and we must find them and, if they are in need, aid them before we do more than rest for the night."
Ywain nods his agreement. "We don't even know if they are on these shores."
Vere nods as well. "We shall gratefully accept the offer of rest for the night," he says. "But we must depart at first light to find our comrades. I trust that when things are less unsettled I shall have a chance to return for a more leisurely discussion. I have always found my conversations with you to be most ... interesting."
"Your invitation from long ago is always open," says the elder. "Is there aught you need this e'en? I am afraid that working farmers go to bed with the sunset, but there are a few books in my study if you or your party wish to stay up reading."
"We has a rough voyage," Vere replies with a small smile. "Rest in a comfortable place shall be a great boon. And we thank you for the meal and welcome."
Once in his bedroom Vere opens his Third Eye and closely examines the entire room for any signs of magic. Then he examines it again with more mundane means, searching for anything unusual.
Assuming that it is nothing but a simple bedroom he will sit on the bed and bring out his father's Trump. He concentrates upon it until he makes contact.
"Father, it is Vere."
Gerard is sitting in his chair on the balcony of his chamber at Xanadu. "Vere. How are you? What news?" Gerard is, as always, a solid presence in the Trump connection once he's accepted it.
"Father." Vere smiles, and his pleasure at seeing his father comes strongly over the link. "I am well. I hope that you and mother are both in good health and spirits?" His father probably is not sensitive enough to pick up that Vere has questions to ask, but is deferring them until the proper formalities are completed.
"Aye, all are as well as can be expected here. Your ma and I are doing fine; Vialle seems stable; Marius continues recovering. Garrett's gone to Paris and I think Jerod's off with Raven in Gateway dealing with trouble there on royal orders. What news of the world from your end?" Gerard is hard to read through a Trump, not because he's mysterious and brooding like Corwin, but because he's so solid, like a rock. Even so, Vere can tell from the small details of his expression as well as the sense of him through to Trump that Gerard is anxious to hear what's going on with him.
"Robin and I were on a mission together. We succeeded, but were parted during the aftermath of that success." Vere smiles slightly, as though there is a joke embedded somewhere in that statement. "I am not concerned about her, but I did wonder if you might have heard anything from or about her recently?"
"Nothing yet, though I can ask if Julian's heard from her. She'd call him first," Gerard says.
Vere shakes his head. "No need. I would not wish him to think I lack faith in her."
He continues, "Currently I am on Asir Island, which appears to be locked behind a permanent storm front of some kind. The Paresh are here, and I am currently guesting with them. I wanted to inquire whether the King currently has any expressed policy towards either the Paresh or Asir that I should be aware of. There is also some sort of cult on the mountain here, calling themselves the Questioners of the Oracle. I am trying to decide whether I want to investigate them further, or if I should ignore them and continue seeking Robin. Does the name mean anything to you?"
"I don't know that name off the top of my head. Sounds more up the redheads' alley," Gerard replies.
Turning to the other question: "Random's got more to worry about right now--in general, not in the specific at the moment--than a cult that left Amber before he took the throne. Unless there's something specific that you think he ought to have a policy about. I can ask him if there is." He feels as though he might be ready to roll right into the throne room to get an answer.
Vere smiles. "No, that is sufficient. I did not wish to depart and find later that there was a royal decree regarding this place of which I was unaware. The unending storm appears to be the result of something Solange did during an earlier visit to the island. I had considered trying to rectify it, but have decided not to delay my current mission."
Gerard sighs heavily at the news that Solange may have left an unending storm behind her at Asir Island, but doesn't interrupt Vere.
He thinks a moment, then adds, "When you next see the king please mention the Questioners and the Paresh to him. Other members of the Family might have pertinent data regarding them."
"Aye, I'll do that, and let you know what I hear. News from here isna so exciting. There's a formal dancing thing tonight to introduce the Knights of the Red Lamp, the new Order Random's made for Edan. They seem to be some army of his from his home shadow. Reid's body has been successfully returned and we're building a cenotaph for him on the mountain. Jerod and Raven have been dispatched to make Gateway see the error of its ways. No recent word from Rebma or Paris, not more recent than your leaving, I think. There'll be word from Paris soon enough, though, because Garrett is there.
"I shall get some rest now, then, and tomorrow my companions and I will be about our efforts to find Robin and the one missing companion who is traveling with her." Vere pauses, then explains, "Robin found two ladies of ancient days, the Ladies Morgne and Laudine, locked in a binding as part of a truce between their courts. They guarded two respective sites of power called Methrin's Font and Merlin's Font. Robin broke the binding, and we rode the wave of power of that breaking out of that place. Robin and I were separated, and I ended up on Asir." Vere pauses, then asks, "Do any of those names mean anything to you, sir, or the name Basina, who was the sorceress who devised the binding?"
"Merlin I know, of course, but I don't know his font. Nor does Methrin or his font ring any bells for me. Basina--" Gerard's face screws up a little with the effort of remembering "--Basina I know. I think Cambina or Reid maybe mentioned it. I can ask Nestor; maybe he'll know something. About any of them. Laudine and Morgne and Methrin and Basina. And the fonts."
"Thank you, Father. Give my love to Mother. I hope to see both of you soon." He will wait to see if his Father has any last words before closing the connection.
"I'll do that. Call me again should you need me," Gerard says by way of farewell.
And then, since it has been a very active and stressful time since he last slept, he will sleep.
Last modified: 16 March 2016