"OK, " says Random. "First pass..." He looks down at his notes again.
"Corwin, Benedict, you'll be back for the coronation, right? Caine, our fleets. Damn, but I wish Marius was up and around. He knows the state of the sailors we took to Chaos. Conner, I know you don't wanna hear it, but you're our second best naval officer now, even if you've been in the diplomatic side for the last decade. You're seconded to Caine."
Conner merely smiles and fires Random a perfect naval salute.
"Bleys, you've got the army. Get 'em paid, get 'em laid, and get 'em out of our hair, or more specifically, our forest. Brennan's with you. Don't disperse 'em so far that we can't pick them back up if we find we have Moonriders sniffing up our collective tail. Coordinate with Julian, unless he has to go after his kids, in which case Brita. Jerod will handle the city side of the reintegration."
Bleys nods.
As does Brennan. He turns to Caine, though, and says quietly, "I know the state of the sailors, too. We can talk before Bleys and I head out, if need be."
I'm not sure where Conner is, but if he's physically proximate, the 'we' obviously includes him. Brennan had been standing next to Caine, though.
Jerod also nods, mentally tallying the lists of people needed to undertake this task, as well as the contacts in Court and city life who will be impacted. His secretary is going to be busy tonight...better get Kenner up as well. And to make sure they liaise with Flora and her crew to keep them apprised for when troops are returning to keep things from being disrupted too much.
"Flora. I need you as I've never needed you before." He smiles and she returns it. It seems to most as if they are showing teeth rather than exchanging pleasantries. "The city, dear sister, the city. I need Amber to be totally focused on the coronation and not worrying about trivialities like food, and missing people, no trade, and a big honking army of people who just came back from a week's holiday which they left for five years ago. You get the lion's share: Paige, because the courts will be busy. Lucas. Ossian. Cambina will be here to coordinate things, since Vialle will be too busy with the coronation.
Ossian smiles. He seems to like the idea of this team. (Yep, including Lucas.)
Paige nods in acceptance of the King's decision, like a good little Amberite, her thoughts for the moment her own, perhaps to the waterful, not exactly here.
"Speaking of Vialle... Lilly, the Queen needs an attendant. A trustworthy kinswoman of mine who can ... accompany her." If there were such a thing as a "swordslady in waiting", that would be what Random would have asked Lilly to be...
Aisling smiles at this.
Lilly nods once, then adds, "It would be an honor." for the queen's benefit. This was exactly the sort of thing Lilly had in mind and she could not be more pleased. Done well it could give her access to much information and serve both her and her father's purposes.
"Folly, you and Reid have the flip side of Flora's assignment. Same deal, but different circles. Also, get Jerod's help on the Land of Peaceful People. Again, Cambina will be coordinating from the castle. Merlin's with you, too. And Aisling. She'll be helpful." Random looks at Folly, waiting for some subtle signal. Receiving it, he continues on.
Aisling's butterfly-purple eyebrows raise a bit at this, but she smiles and nods.
Folly looks at Aisling and Merlin in friendly appraisal. She seems pleased with her assignment, and her team. There's something different about her posture now, perhaps, and -- although they wouldn't recognize it yet -- she's got the same sort of look on her face as if someone had challenged her to (for instance) compose a concerto for two basses, a djembe, and a box of shredded cheese.
"Fi, I need a pattern: I know we can't put everyone on it who hasn't walked it, but we need to do that soon. Can you get there?"
The slight redheaded woman nods. "Of course. I serve at the pleasure of the King."
Brennan shoots a glance at Bleys and Fiona, at that.
"Ger. Um. We'll talk. later, OK?"
Gerard says "As ye wish. I'm not going anywhere." He looks at his children, somewhat sternly.
Vere meets his father's eyes calmly, then glances at Solange and nods his head slightly.
Random says "great. OK, we've got a plan. I'll be up to my sweaty armpits most days, but Cambina or Vialle will be able to find me if you all need me. Or trump me if you can. We do need more decks, but as I recall, it takes too long to make 'em to be a solution to our current problems. Ossian, that goes on your list. figure out what we need and tell me about it. Talk to Vere if you need to figure out how to make a proper report." Random grins at this last.
"Suits me." Ossian grins, and twinkles with his left eye towards Vere. (Well, I guess Ossian _knows_ how to write a report after having run the harbour together with Vere for several years.)
[Random]
"OK, that's all I've got. If these assignments don't work, we can change
them later. If you just can't do what I'm assigning you to do, come talk
to me about it one on one."
And with that Jerod gets up from his chair, ending his participation in the briefing, and heads over to Martin first, empty glass in hand. He keeps his tone quiet so at best only the couple in immediate proximity to Martin will hear anything.
"I take it you're going to be busy for the next while. Are you still planning to take care of things in town?"
Martin shrugs, replying in the same low voice, "What I can take care of tomorrow morning, and some of that is private business. After that, all bets are off."
"We gotta talk then, before we both disappear on our missions for the Crown. And you've got something I need." Jerod says. "Tonight? That little place we found the fresh oysters, and discussed the armory raid." and he chuckles just a bit.
Martin grins, and it's the most spontaneous thing anyone has seen him do all evening. "Meet me at the stable in fifteen minutes and you're on." Noticing Brita, who is standing by waiting for Jerod, he adds, "Make that twenty."
Jerod claps him on the arm and returns the grin. "Twenty it is."
Brennan's got no immediate questions for Random. Assuming no one else does, either, he glances at Benedict, then Aisling and Lilly... then back to Benedict. Since it sounds like he'd going to be leaving, he has to take the immediate priority, and Brennan makes his way over to him.
As people begin to move, Brennan catches Lilly's eye. For a moment she hesitates to go to him out of a sense of duty to the queen. Looking in Vialle's direction she realizes the current crush of people in the room would more then likely prevent her from going anywhere too quickly. With that she heads to her father's side in time to hear Brennan's remark:
[Brennan]
"I believe you offered to run a post-mortem on the battle at the Courts.
I'd like to take you up on that."
[Lilly]
"As would I. Though this would not be the best of moments." Her lips curl
slightly. "I need to see to the Queen."
Benedict smiles."I suspect that His Majesty meant 'in the morning', although if you wish to speak to the Queen, then by all means do so. We will be in the Blue parlor, assuming it still holds the sand table."
Lilly nods to her father. At the very least she knew that she should introduce herself to the queen. For the moment she was also willing to let Vialle take the lead in their relationship. That when, if danger approached, she would hopefully have the woman's trust and respect.
Lilly looks ever in the monarch's direction breifly before returning her attention to Brennan and Benedict. "Brennan, you and I, and Aisling of course, need to remain in contact so that when Daeon and Jovian return we can arrange a meeting. I would also like to remain informed of the state of the armies. Take note of those who have superior skills and are loyal to the crown in case I have need of them." Somehow she manages to not sound as if she is doling out orders even though that is clearly what she is doing. It is almost as if taking command is a subconscious part of her nature (which of course it probably is).
If Brennan thinks he's taking orders, his body langauge is entirely at odds with the notion. "Of course. We have other things to talk about."
"Well then, I am off to introduce myself to the Queen and make any necessary arrangements. I will come to the blue room as soon as I am able." Lilly bows her head and turns to go.
Quickly she scans the room to locate Vialle.
Vialle is sitting in the seat by the window where Caine had been at dinner. Random has moved to join her and they are talking, although they don't appear to be deep in conversation.
Brennan gives a waving nod, or a nodding wave, to what he expects will be the retreating Lilly. He then nods to Benedict, letting him know that he'll stick around until Benedict is ready for the strategy review, and turns around to scan and look for Aisling....
When Random is finished Ossian heads for Uncle Bleys. Ossian stretches out his hand:
"I didn't get the opportunity to greet you before. I'm Ossian."
Bleys takes it firmly and shakes it."Of course you are. I've been meaning to speak to you as well. I would be very interested in hearing your version of family gossip."
"Ah. The full story could take some time, but I'll gladly tell it. Until the coronation, however, I should keep to the short version. I guess there are certain areas you are more curious about than other?"
"I have taken all knowledge to be my province, and you are an undiscovered country, nephew. We both have duties on the morrow, but perhaps we could speak before I leave for Arden?"
"That suits me fine. We shall meet tomorrow morning then. Shall we say directly after breakfast, in the small sitting room with the yellow chairs?"
"Until then, Uncle. I hope you might have one or two answers for me too."
Ossian turns around looking for...
and sees Brennan, I suppose?
...But of course. I picture it that Bleys and Benedict hadn't been on opposite ends of the room; that Brennan and Ossian were both standing on the line drawn between Bleys and Benedict; that when they respectively broke off their conversations and turned, they found each other pretty much face to face and in an almost mandatory conversation range.
When this happens, Brennan pretty much stands stock still in place, holding ground as it were. If the encounter put them inadvertantly very close to each other, Brennan does not take a step back. On the other hand, he does not take a step forward, either.
His face is a carefully maintained neutrality, while he looks Ossian up and down. As is his voice, as he says, "You would be Ossian, I believe." It's hard to tell if that's a question or a statement.
Ossian seems to stop for a tiny moment processing something, then he stretches out his hand, with a somewhat mischievous smile. "If I am Ossian, then you must be Brennan. The man who is good at killing things."
Brennan looks at the hand for a moment, then decides to take it. He lets the callouses on his hands speak for themselves. Brennan's got a grip, but it's not crushing.
"I must be. And you're good at drawing Trumps, I understand."
Ossian's grip is firm, but he is probably not even nearly as strong as Brennan. His smile broadens a little.
"I really don't know. The scale is rather fuzzy."
As an afterthought he adds "Brand said I had some potential."
Brennan, it should be noted, hasn't let go of Ossian's hand, yet. Still not trying to crush it, just not letting go. When Ossian mentions Brand, the temperature behind Brennan's eyes drops from room temperature to about five degrees centigrade less.
"You knew my father."
Ossian's grip relaxes slightly; that normal signal to let go when you shake hands. If Brennan does not let go Ossians grip will tighten again.
Brennan holds Ossian's hand just long enough for Ossian to let his hand relax, then start to squeeze, before he decides to release it.
Ossian makes a little nervous "heh" sound.
Brennan does not appear to notice. He's still chill, but conversational.
"He was my foremost tutor. If I knew him? That depends." Ossian returns Brennan's ice with a smile, that does not reach all the way to Ossian's eyes.
It takes a Water score only marginally north of the Sahara Desert to see that Brennan is not very favorably impressed by this. "Depends on what?"
"As far as I understood he was planning this war for quite some time. He never told me. He also seems to have been more mad than I realised at that time." Ossian is on the defensive.
"Yes," he says, "He was planning this for longer than I've been alive, in fact." He pauses, considers, then continues in an ambiguous tone of voice, "Lucky for you he didn't involve you in his plans."
Ossian nods, a little more relaxed now. "Sometimes I think he did, but never got around finishing it. You, as his son, probably knew him better than me. How focused was he on those plans?"
If Ossian was expecting Brennan to relax because of those comments, he's mistaken. If anything, it looks like it might start snowing behind his eyes, and Ossian may have the distinct impression that he missed Brennan's point entirely.
The glint in Ossian's eyes seems to indicate that there is something he likes about the tenseness of the situation.
Brennan's eyes are still flat. There's an evaluation being made in this conversation.
"Focussed enough to plan deeply for centuries. Focussed enough to try and murder a cousin. It was one of the very few constants of his madness."
He pauses.
"But tell me, how did you meet my father?"
"He arrived at the orphanage where I lived, when I was say five or six years old, and said he was my uncle." Ossian says "so he found me a better place to live and a school."
"You are an orphan? One wonders, then, how Brand knew to find you."
"I have asked that question myself. Maybe my parents are alive, maybe not. Do you have any good theories?"
Brennan's eyebrows raise. His expression is still flat, but he says, "I would need more infomation. When were you born, relative to Amber?"
"I have rather recently learned about the different time-flows in different Shadows. I don't know the timeflows in the Shadows where I grew up very well. The Shadow where I spent my last school years probably was about the same pace as Amber. I might have been born twenty-five years back or so, give or take several decades." Ossian shrugs.
"This does not help much. If you notice any of my aunts or uncles looking cross-eyed at you, though, that's where I'd start."
"I always keep my eyes open. Not for such things, though. I will take your advice, cousin." Ossian's tone is almost mocking. He suddenly seems to think about something:
"I wonder. May I ask you for your opinion on your father's taste? In art I mean."
"With the possible exception of painting Trumps, my father painted only self-portraits." He waits for Ossian to parse that, think of at least three obvious contradictions, and then whether it looks like Ossian is going to object or not he repeats slowly, "He only painted self-portraits."
Ossian nods. "He did.
"Then, of course, everyone paints only self-portraits. Who can portray something, without searching inside yourself? Of course Brand was extremely self-absorbed, so your observation is probably correct."
"Yes, yes," he says, and you can see Brennan making a dismissive motion with his hand, even though he hasn't moved a muscle, "And who is the 'I' to behold my internal self? I was making an artistic judgement and a personal observation, not engaging in freshman philosophy."
Ossian furrows his brow for a moment in an expresseion that looks like 'Oh. That didn't come out as I intended.' However that expression fades quickly. He seems to gain control over himself, and then, rather surprisingly (considering the self-control), snaps back with an irritated tone:
"Yeah. And I was trying to see how that observation fit into Brand's art from my angle of perspective."
You get the feeling that Ossian could very well have withheld that comment, but conciously decided not to. He continuse in a milder tone:
"And I found that it fit. We seem to agree.
"Of course there was much more to Brand's art than that. He got a very good feeling for angles, in my opinion.
"I think he might have been a bit colour-blind, also. Just a tiny bit."
Brennan raises an eyebrow, but doesn't otherwise comment. There's an implied, 'Was there anything else?' in his expression.
Ossian shrugs.
"Have a pleasant evening, cousin." he says.
As the meeting ends, Folly turns in her seat to talk to Martin. However, sensing Jerod's approach and intent, she distills whatever she was going to say into a quick half-smile of the sort that might normally be accompanied by a quiet, "We'll talk later." Tonight, though, it reads more like, _You will get to rest eventually, right?_
Martin nods, once, and smiles at Folly.
But then Jerod arrives and addresses Martin, so Folly turns to speak with Merlin and Paige, pondering aloud whether she ought to get started on her assignment immediately with a trip into town. There's music tonight at the Cat and Ferret, after all....
Reid slides up around this time. "There's always music somewhere," he says with a smile.
Paige smiles, "Sounds good to me, but I've got a detour first. If making the Castle's going to be a hassle afterwards, you're welcome to crash at the Prince. I'll send word to expect you, if you'd like."
Folly smiles. "Well, you know I never decide these things 'til the last possible minute, but... maybe if you send word that I might stop by...."
"Merle, we need to find some time to talk, about alot of things, but there's someone important that I hurt today, and I need to talk to him, soon," Paige kisses him on the cheek. "I'll check in on you tonight? I know where Folly's old room is, even if I haven't found my own, yet."
"Yes, Paige," says Merlin.
With a wink, she's gone into the crush of bodies, making her way toward Uncle Gerard...
Martin turns to Merlin and says, "Merle, I have business in town."
Merlin draws in a breath and replies, "Yes, Martin."
Still smiling, Martin shakes his head. "Nothing serious. I just won't be back to the castle until tomorrow. If you need me, you have my Trump." And if that cost Martin anything to say, only his nearest and dearest could see it.
Merlin nods. "Of course, Martin. Good luck."
"Thanks." Martin's gaze stops for a moment on Folly, but his words are addressed to the group, including Reid, who is approaching. "Good evening, everyone." Then he's away towards Benedict.
Jerod nods once, turning his attention now to the others waiting most patiently.
Merlin looks around briefly to try to see where his father is in the swirls of movement in the room. Having failed for the moment, he turns back to Folly. "I have never been to Amber before, Cousin Folly. I am afraid I will be of little assistance."
Reid offers, "I'm sure you'll know your way around soon enough, and it seems like we may be your guides." With that he links arms with Folly.
"And fear not, cousin Merlin," Folly adds warmly, "-- though you may lack knowledge, you have talents, which I've no doubt we'll find good use for. Improvisation is one of our specialties." She grins at Reid.
"If you'd like to start getting a feel for the city," she continues, "we'll visit a place or two this evening. Of course, you may prefer to spend a little more time with your father before he heads out to wherever-he's-going...."
It's clear that she's trying to give Merlin a graceful out, if he'd rather have a quiet evening getting settled into his new home. She doesn't want to overwhelm the poor guy on his first day in Amber -- and he's already obviously well on his way to good-and-whelmed....
Merlin bites his lower lip, then, after a moment, he says, "Let me see if my father has need of me. If not, I will come with you." He moves off to the other end of the room, where his father is speaking with Fiona.
Reid untangles himself from Folly. "Well, cousin, any early thoughts on how you'd like to divide the rest of the city with me?" He smiles. "It seems like Flora has the uppercrust mucky mucks and has Paige, Lucas and Ossian to help her out. We've got Aisling and Merlin on our team, and Cambina is coordinating from the castle.
"Do you have any thoughts?"
"Plenty," Folly replies, "the first being that if one of our goals is to generate enthusiastic buzz about the coronation to distract people from killing each other, we ought to head straight to the Grouse and tell Linden that... uh... well, it doesn't especially matter what we tell her -- the details always come out different from how they go in -- just as long as it involves how cool it is that there's going to be a coronation. If we can get her jazzed about it, by morning the docks will be buzzing with the news. Especially if we tell her it's a secret." She grins.
"Then it's just a matter of getting as many people as possible involved in planning for some aspect of the coronation or the Spring Festival -- parties, parades, costumes, special food, whatever -- so they're too busy to make trouble. We should ask Jerod for suggestions of what sorts of festivities the Land of Peace fleet might be distracted with -- preferably ones that don't involve pillaging anything."
Folly pauses and glances around the room. "Have you met Aisling yet?" she asks Reid. "She lived in Amber for a while before the war and may have some useful contacts in the city, but I don't know any details yet. As for Merlin...." She lowers her voice slightly before continuing, "I know he's worried that he won't have anything to add, but -- well, if nothing else, as both a sensitive soul and a newcomer to the city, he may notice things or think of things that we overlook. And of course having another Trump artist around can't be a bad thing."
She rubs her chin thoughtfully for a moment, then asks, "So, what's your take on it all?"
Reid considers for a moment. "You're right in saying we could start leaking information tonight at the pubs. Most of our 'circles' are in the evening crowd, so why put off til tomorrow what we can accomplish tonight over a pint and some good tunes? Perhaps Merlin will be able to join us. I believe I saw Aisling heading off with Benedict for the battle retrospective, so she's probably out for the night. I spoke with her a bit earlier this evening, but we that's about the extent of our contact.
"You seem to be in good with dockside labour and some of that district. Maybe I can help with negotiating the food and beverage side of the deal. We can both help with an entertainment list... I'll also tell the seedy underbelly of Amber that prosperity is coming back to the city. There's nothing like a dejected thief feeling down because he has nobody to steal from." Reid smiles, but is only half-joking. "Either way, the word will be out that there's change in the air, and it's change for the better..."
Folly smiles broadly as she nods her agreement. She's bouncing on her toes, full of creative energy. "Good. We've got the start of a plan; we'll make up the rest as we go."
She scans the room again and notices Jerod waiting to speak with Reid. "I need to get my lute back to my room before someone knocks it out of tune again," she says to Reid, "and maybe change into some slightly more Amber-pub-appropriate attire. Come by my room when you're ready to head out?" She describes the location of her new quarters.
Paige taps Uncle Gerard on the shoulder as he's turning to leave, "If I'm not intruding, I was wondering Uncle. Do you have an idea where Admiral Worth might be posted this evening?
"I know he was to help with the disposition of the returning naval forces. Is he working from the harbor, the Naval," a worried look crosses her face, but obviously not one she hasn't already considered, "Or perhaps the camp in Arden?"
Gerard can be very hard to read when he wants to be. He wants to be right now.
"Aye, he's in Arden, watching young Marius. Caine and I thought it would be kinder if someone were with him in case he woke up tonight. I'm sure yer cousin Brita is going back down, or perhaps Caine, or if not I can Trump Julian for you."
"Then I owe him the apology that I didn't give your brothers earlier," she says. _He's my friend, too._
"It looks like I'm not the only one who wishes to bend your ear, so I'll see if I can join Brita." Paige smiles at Gerard.
"Thank you, Uncle," she says laying her hand on his, and again is off, this time drawn to the tall blonde in red.
Brita stands quietly to the side and notes the placement in the King's Plan of those dear to her. When he is done speaking, she moves to Conner and says "Conner, I will be returning to Arden now to relay the results to Uncle Julian and await his direction, or that of Uncle Bleys, as appropriate. I wish you swift completion of your endeavors." She gives him a bear hug in parting.
Conner returns the hug warmly if breathlessly. "You take care of yourself too." Conner smiles. "Sisters don't grow on trees even in Arden."
As Brita pulls away, she reaches for her Trumps. She shuffles out the one of herself and hands it to Conner with a small smile. "In case you need me." she says as she turns away.
Her next stop is her mother, "Mother, if you have need of me, I will be in Arden. Master Reid and Conner have trumps to reach me." Fiona gets a more gentle hug - as if she were fine china that Brita is afraid to crush.
Fiona returns the embrace warmly. "Good night, Brita. I'll come down to see you before I leave in the morning."
Finally, she moves towards Jerod.
I'm not sure where Conner was either but likely not near Caine at a guess so [Conner and Brennan] pass each other as Conner heads over to Caine.
"Above it or below, I can't escape the sea." Conner smiles in greeting. "Captain Conner at your service, Uncle."
Caine is grinning. "Captain Conner. I try to learn something new every day and today was a day in a thousand. We'll start with the Admiral Winters, of course. Send a runner to the Naval inviting him to have a drink with you and with me at 4 bells. That should give the rumors plenty of time to ferment."
Conner grins back. "Aye sir." Then he chuckles. "Always wondered what it would be like under you instead of Gerard. Glad I get to find out."
Caine cocks his head slightly and says "Quite a few captains will be finding that out shortly and I'm not sure how many of them will be glad. I've been dead here for five years and we're bringing back a shipload of senior officers who were mostly under my command. They're used to the idea of me, but Amber's home navy won't be. Something tells me we're about to be in for the mother of all upper brass shuffling, Captain Conner, and I don't just mean when they realize you're my sister's son."
"Well that last is hardly a surprise to the home fleet I suspect. I have been living openly as family for a year or so." Conner replies. "But your point is well taken. Keeping them all minimally content is going to be very tricky. Making sure each one seems to have a sympathetic ear in one of us might go a long way towards that with a few people made examples of positive and negative along the way."
Caine nods. "We'll make a list." He pauses momentarily and says "I shall meet you in the carriage-house at two bells. That should give your man time enough to get down there and for them to hide the evidence."
"Two bells it is." Conner nods. "Until then." He nods.
With things starting to break up, Aisling smiles at her dinnermates, and heads over to Gerard/Vere/Solange.
She spreads her hands and nods to them in a sort of abbreviated bow. "Prince Gerard. Vere. Solange." She speaks very quietly, directed mostly to Gerard, so that no others in the now bustling room can hear, earnest. "I meant to speak with you when this was over; there are two things that I would like to lay before you in offering. As I suggested, as I mentioned before, I would dearly like to try to bring you to health with what I know. I have not tried such a thing before, and I do not know how long it might take, but I swear I could not hurt you." She smiles a bit worriedly, "The other thing is that I am a shapeshifter. One of my favored forms is something like a purple lion, with arms to hold, which walks on air. In it, I granted the Princess Llewella conveyance on the battlefield when she was much wearied. It strikes me that if there are places you would like to go that require feet, I have extra that I would be honored to lend you." She closes her mouth, and nods, her hand clasped around her wrist before her.
Vere nods a greeting as Aisling approaches, but says nothing. Depending on how perceptive she is, Aisling may or may not realize that Vere does not believe he has the right to speak first in the company of his father and two ladies.
"Those are kind offers," says Gerard. "I know nothing of your way of healing, so I can't say whether it'd help or no. And that discussion will take longer than we have this evening, I think." He looks at Vere, then, and goes on.
"As for the other, I've grown used to my chair; wheeling it about keeps my arms in practice. There's nowhere I go in Amber that hasn't been fitted for it, and I couldn't deprive my brother of your services for so long if I were to leave." There's a firm set to Gerard's jaw that Vere recognizes as he says that last. "So I thank you for the offer of your legs, but I must say no."
"Even so, your generosity is appreciated," Solange says.
Aisling bows her head, eyes closed. "It is yours the choice," she says, and looking him in the eyes again, "I will be available at any time you choose to further the discussion." She glances at Solange, Vere; if there is no word forthcoming she nods again and leaves.
Vere lifts one hand slightly in a gesture to stay Aisling's departure. "Certainly such a discussion will be long," he agrees, watching his father intently. "And we none of us are under the misapprehension that results, if possible, will be immediate. But if a voyage is to be long, all the more important to begin planning the sooner. If tonight is not possible," Vere puts a definite stress on the word "if" and his eyes narrow slightly as he says it, his gaze never straying from his father's face, "Then we should make definite arrangements for a time to speak on this matter tomorrow."
"There is nae time tonight," says Gerard to Vere, "for I hear my brother Benedict offering to replay his most recent battle on a sand table, and I'm not such a fool as to miss that."
"Oh, really?" Aisling says, eyes lit up like a kid with a package that has a fascinating shake to it. "Of course I was there, but I wasn't as there as Benedict was..." she's really far more sunlit when she smiles, but now she's damping down again to something more modest, with an apologetic eyetwitch towards Vere, "May I go with you?"
Vere tilts his head slightly to one side as he watches Aisling's reaction, and a smile passes briefly across his face. He smooths that emotion from his features as he turns his attention back to Gerard.
To Aisling, he says, "I will be in my office tomorrow, at four bells past the forenoon watch, if ye have no other duty."
She nods, again with the expression of diplomatic politeness. "I shall be pleased to meet you then, if I have no greater duty."
Gerard nods, satisfied that he's made the point he needs to make. He turns to Solange and says: "Will you be coming with us?"
"Do you think I ought to?" Solange asks. "I'm no great student of battle maneuvers... it might be over my head."
Gerard smiles at his daughter and says, "I know ye'd rather be off with yer friends. Go on, have a good time, but don't stay out so late that you can't come to breakfast in the morning." He leans forward to hug her, if she's amenable.
Vere says, "Father, I have one small matter to attend to. I shall return very quickly." He smiles at Solange, inclines his head to Aisling and says, "Dame Aisling, a pleasure," backs one step away from the group and then turns and walks towards Jerod and Reid.
Last modified: 8 October 2002