Tea and Toast

After Marius has had a couple of days to settle in, Vialle requests that he join her for tea in her office.

Marius will arrive a few minutes early, as if in efforts to "scope out the situation." He's more snappy than dark (despite his filling out his wardrobe in the family tradition, dark isn't compulsory.)

I don't recall if he has reason to know that Vialle is blind, so unless I hear otherwise, I will assume Marius doesn't exactly understand what that means, and will treat her as if she weren't.

He will greet her as cordially as possible. He will be taking a very careful mental picture of her, however. Darn sneaky Rebmans v. suspicious.

[lol!

Assume Deirdre or Caine told Marius Vialle is blind, as both of them would have known this at the time of Random's marriage to her. Also, she doesn't focus properly, so it's easy to notice in a one-on-one.]

Vialle is seated in the receiving area of her office, which has a couch, where she sits, and three chairs around a small table. She has a tea service and some fresh cucumber sandwiches (crustless, of course), waiting.

"Thank you for coming, Marius. I appreciate your availability on short notice. May I offer you some tea?"

"It is my honour to serve," he says, with a bit of a bow. He would normally have followed that up with, "the Queen," but given that the coronation has not yet happened, and "Queen-to-be," is so clunky, he's not going to try. The truth is, he seems to mean it, at least on the formal level.

He takes the seat nearest her, with grace and when it is appropriate.

If Marius accepts, she will let him have the honor of pouring, if he desires it.

If it's the honour of pouring, too, as part of the (tea) service...erm. [pinches self. Is self awake? Oh yes. Self needs to get in to work again. Darn late Friday nights.] (I was thinking that the hostess or her manservant is supposed to serve, but... Marius will certainly do a fine job of it.)

[Actually, pouring for a tea party is a mark of honor for the guest invited to do so. The fact that the party consists of two is not necessarily relevant. Also, as mentioned elsewhere, Marius should be aware she is blind. There is no servant attending on her now; her conversation with Marius is _en famille_, as it were.]

[OK, my etiquette book can be beaten up by your etiquette book. [laugh]]

If she pours, and when she refreshes her own cup, she pours steadily and unhesitatingly. However, an observant man would notice that she touches the cup once before pouring to be sure of its location.

She speaks of trivial things, making sure he has settled in well, and small talk about the coronation plans.

To Marius, nothing the Queen says is trivial. It is not necessarily riddled with additional meaning, it's just that everything seems to hold interest.

He will explain how as his best settling is always done into his work, and he has been kept quite busy. If this suggests to her that he hasn't given himself a chance to settle into the castle, well... that would be true, too. There is a part of his spirit, after all, that does court the sea too much to be locked up in walls of stone.

If Marius was unaware that the ball was to be a masquerade, she advises him, and asks him about his plans for a costume.

While he has heard talk to that effect, this will be his first official advisory on that note.

"In all honesty, [my lady]," (substituting the most polite title) "I had not taken an opportunity to fashion something as yet. However, with the event so close, I must admire your reminder and seek to correct that immediately." He tilts his head. He thinks briefly of his nightmares. He thinks of his desires. He considers dressing in drag, but doesn't think the scandal to be worth it. (Besides, he wouldn't look good as a redhead. Or a greenhead.) And dressing up as Brand would just be poor taste. Erm. (heh) "As has been on my mind since rumours of costumes have been needed, however, would be something playful of the sea. An otter, perhaps?" He seems a little uncomfortable with the 'playful' notion, but it was a lot better than the other 12 ideas he just discarded.

"At the last masquerade, Gerard was King Neptune astride a sea monster. It was not a very concealing costume, but I am told it was quite splendid. The costumes vary from quite elaborate to little more than formal clothing with a domino mask whose form indicates the nature of the costume. There is a great range to play with, if you wish.

"I suspect some of your cousins will conjure a costume, or fetch one back from Shadow."

"An otter it will be, then, if I cannot arrange for a selkie's coat," he says, and the tone of his voice is somewhat self-mocking. "I shall make the arrangements a priority in my schedule so as not to be completely outclassed by my fellows."

He pauses. "I beg your pardon, [appropriate title]," he seems somewhat embarrassed for a moment. "Is this the sort of soiree wherein one is expected to bring a guest or will it be fair to come unattended?"

"Some of your cousins will come with escorts; others will come alone. Whichever you prefer will be appropriate. There will be dancing, of course, but of course there will be any number of ladies to dance with."

[Dancers: Amber is pre-waltz.]

"My immense gratitude must be expressed, [title] Vialle!" Marius looks and sounds relieved. "You are truly a lifesaver." There's a definite level of amusement in his tone, though. "Is there any way in which I may repay you?" he asks, and his tone is actually slightly suggestive.

[Your Majesty is probably the correct title. Or Queen Vialle. "My Lady" if you're going for intimacy.]

Vialle smiles. "The pleasure of a dance during the masquerade is all I ask."

Marius' smile is evident in his voice, "And how will I find you if your loveliness is masked?"

"I am told," Vialle says, "that I will be costumed as an empress. But I am sure you will be able to discern me no matter how I am masked."

With that, Marius will murmur a few more pleasantries, and, if excused, take his leave.

It is at about the point where Marius is thinking of asking to be excused that Vialle changes the subject.

Marius does not look as if he was just about to sneak away. He finds Vialle fascinating. He's heard tales of those Rebman women, after all. Copies of PlayRebman were all the rage when...

...erm. I'm so not using the "bulkhead" joke in the other message, too.

"I'm afraid we must turn the talk to a somewhat less pleasant subject. I have been charged with planning the memorial service for the late king and for your mother. If you would like to deliver a eulogy, or if there are any special arrangements you would like--music and such--I will incorporate them into the service. Also, although we needn't think of it today, Random plans a cenotaph for your mother and will want your input."

Marius is quiet for a long while. "I would consider asking you for more time to think on this, but in the honesty that is one of my most endearing traits," he stalls, "I would not be able to give you any better answer if I took my time." He pauses. "I could speak for my mother - that much she left for me, but I could not speak otherwise than as a son and one still bitter about things left...unsolved." His choice of words seems a matter of serendipity in his thinking. "How public will this ceremony be, my dear Lady? I think in private those who mourn her will have already spoken the words in their hearts, but I believe public words from myself and perhaps the opportunity for others would also suit." He shrugs, an expansive but restless shrug. "As for music, she was fond of many of my Uncle's works, but..." he pauses. "None comes to mind as appropriate. For all that she could put on a grand show, she would want it simple, sweet, memorable, but..." he pauses as if weeding through thoughts, "final."

"Random wants a public ceremony, for his father and Deirdre. There may be a family service as well, later." Vialle's voice takes on a certain sympathy. "If it would be too much for you, I could ask Corwin to speak. He was very fond of your mother."

Marius frowns, realizes it isn't audible, and puts words to it. "I... It's not that, your majesty-to-be, it's that she's gone. Ceremonies would just be dragging her out again, keeping her from her peace." Vialle would have to be blind to not read, "my peace" in there as well. Oh, wait. [heh]

Vialle bites her lip.

He tries another tactic, "I would be glad to speak. I could speak of her for hours, but no time would suffice to truly impart why we mourn the passing of her essence. To compare her to the King... rather, to our late Majesty," he clarifies, "I suppose..." he shrugs, and gives up. "It's a ceremony, isn't it? It's not the truth. It's a representation, an aspect, not what's essential. The philosophical grounds should not be entangled with the aesthetic. You are most correct, and I am at your service." Manic-mode seems to have kicked on... "I suppose we could play, `The Merry Maid of Oisen Falls.' It's the only lullaby I remember her singing to me. Perhaps have some of her men make brief statements of times past..." he shrugs again. "Nothing too long, or too poignant, but a whirlwind, exposing her zest for life."

"I will arrange it," Vialle says. "If you will prepare me a brief list of those whom I should ask to speak, and a few words of your own, I will handle everything else. Do not worry about it." She reaches over to take his hand, kindly.

He allows it, and will even offer hers a faint squeeze. "I am sure it will be in the best of hands with you. I am considering my words even as we speak, my mind racing with possibilities." _You have very soft hands,_ he traces hers with his own. "Thank you for your kindness," he says, softly.

"You're welcome," Vialle says. "If there is anything I can do for you, be sure to let me know. I would not have any of my husband's kinsmen feel alone in his court, especially not one who has lost so much already."

Marius leans closer for a moment. "Your attention has already spread sunshine upon my prospects, your Majesty-to-be." He leans back. "I am, of course, your willing servant. Loss is inevitable, my lady. We shall all experience it in time. It is how we cope that makes all the difference."

"Indeed it is," Vialle agrees. "Let us both hope we learn to cope well with our losses, and our gains."

The morning of the day after Jerod's visit to Harga'rel, messages go out to Conner and Brennan from Jerod.

Cousins...

I've spoken with the King concerning the reintegration. By now you will have heard of his general payment plans. With the coronation approaching, our work is cut out for us. Let us meet over the next few days to discuss matters.

I would recommend meeting at our clubs for dinner or lunches. A show of public solidarity would be good and will ensure that no one side feels left out. Three meetings should be sufficient to hammer out the details.

Brennan, perhaps a meeting in Arden near the army so we can see their disposition?

Conner, the Naval would serve most adequately I'm sure. Perhaps you could make arrangements there?

I've made arrangements at the Diogenes for our first meeting. Late meal one hour after Vespers. The Beaujolais will be served that evening.

Jerod.

The messengers who deliver these notes will wait for replies.

Conner sends a reply as follows to both.

Cousin:

Three meetings sounds right to me as well. I suggest we meet in Arden for the second and the Naval for the third. Depending on the outcome of the first two meetings, I shall either serve a delightful Reisling or break out the grog.

See you both at the Diogenes.

Conner.

Brennan dictates his response:

Cousins,

A show of solidarity will go over nicely. To that end, I can put together a review of the troops at our collective convenience. Looking forward to our meeting, and seeing how the Navy is coming along as well.

Brennan.

Jerod will be the first at the Diogenes, having arranged for the working meal to be prepared and for a private room, suitably laid out with smoking chairs, a well stocked private bar, and assorted other niceties. He ensures that things are to his liking, and that a small number of pages and runners are available should messages need sending during the meeting.

Once all that is done, Jerod will remain in the main area, meeting and greeting various club members while awaiting the arrival of his guests. Jerod is conservatively dressed in court clothing, sword at his side and the hair pulled back into a single ponytail held by a silvered cord.

Brennan will probably arrive second.

On the appropriate evening (which day is that since the day of the Return, anyway?) Brennan will retire from the Vale back to Amber for a quick bath. On the way from the Vale he'll make sure to have mentioned that he's dining with Family on business, but he won't say where.

In order to find the club, Brennan will enquire of one of the pages not best known for his discretion. The rumor mill should pick that up nicely. No doubt the pages have a roost of illicit carrier pigeons set up and are profitting nicely from the traffic in gossip. Anything to get the economy going, but Brennan will take his cut later.

Brennan arrives just a few moments early. He's been in Amber long enough to have judged the local fashions, and his garb isn't too far out of line. It is simple enough, though, that if something arises and he needs to be back at the Vale on short notice, he won't be too hindered. He's in his habitual red-trimmed black, and in contrast to most of the Royal Family (at least the Elders) he is not dripping in jewels. He also bears a blade, and his hair is tied back with a black band.

Jerod looks up from his conversation with Barenthkov, having been discussing his intentions to the new monarchy and what he intends to submit to the crown for music during the coronation.

When he sees Jerod, he greets him warmly. "Jerod, it's good to see you," and gives him a good handshake, one with that left-hand-on- Jerod's-elbow gesture.

Jerod rises as Brennan approaches, returning the grasp and apparently understanding the significance of it. "Welcome Brennan. I trust your trip was uneventful?" he asks, before motioning. "Allow me to introduce Barenthkov. An old friend and my music mentor from years past."

[Jerod, Barenthkov and Brennan exchange chat, most likely about music. Brennan displays some knowledge of it, but not much that's Amber specific. He clearly appreciates it, but it's not clear if he plays anything himself.]

Barenthkov is clearly in a class occupied by very few. Certainly any in the royal family that put themselves to music could be in it (there are so few things that are restricted), but beyond that it is likely he has very few who would be his peers. Jerod would appear to have some knowledge and practice in music, though he defers to his mentor during the discussion.

Brennan makes no attempt to one-up him in the conversation.

After a few minutes of polite introduction, they will take their leave of Barenthkov and move off to one side while waiting for Conner. "How do things fare with the army? I take it they were suitably pleased with receiving word of their pay?" Jerod asks.

"I know the sailors were." Conner smiles striding into the conversation. "We have the brothels on full red alert." He says wryly.

Conner offers his hand to both. "Jerod, Brennan. Good to see you both."

Brennan takes his hand in greeting and gives him a mild shoulder clap for good measure. "Ah, I see Caine's first directive has reached your office, then," he says drily. Then he turns to Jerod and answers, "Well enough. Two weeks of pay is slowly congealing its way to clumps around the better gamblers, and five years of pay is keeping them mostly in line. It's hard to justify even a few hours of AWOL when the penalty is more coins than many of them are likely to see stacked up in one place for a long, long time." There's a glint in his eyes that in other men would be accompanied by a wolfish grin.

He pats his cloak, indicating there's an inner pocket to it. "Lord Sense has an initial report."

"Good." Jerod replies. "Let's sit down and figure out what's up." and he leads the group to their room and dinner, already laid out. A fabulous selection is arranged, clearly the equal to the appetites of three of the royal family...perhaps even of their uncles. Jerod already has a glass of something dark and peaty in hand but motions to the bar, well stocked for any variety of taste.

"Grab what appeals to you. We can eat while we talk." he says, collecting a substantial plate of food, clearly not afraid of having a lot to start with.

Brennan, as had previously been noted, is not shy when it comes to loading his plate. This is no exception. He still favors the basic proteins and carbohydrates to fuel himself, but appreciates the quality presumeably present here, that wouldn't be evident in the fare at Camp Heather.

Once the others have taken care of themselves, Jerod will be found sitting at the table in a very comfortable chair. "So far there has been little to mention from the city side though I'm sure that's going to change once we start bringing people back." Jerod says.

"No emergencies on the Camp end, either. Word of large sums of money works wonders. For a few days a least." He reaches into his cloak pocket and brings out the preliminary report from Lord Sense. Brennan evidently knows the contents well enough that he does not require a copy for himself to read from.

The report gives a high level gloss of some deadly dull material-- It's broken down by the various commands as they were before the fracas with Brand: Random's, Deirdre's, Lilly's, Flora's, Llewella's, and Benedict's. Special sections detail Brennan's and Bleys' (now both being returned) and Marius' and Julian's.

(Marius' because Marius is on site to transition them back to Conner; Julian's because Brita is on site to transition them back to the Rangers, which has probably already happened. If Marius or Brita want to make Brennan responsible for this, too, that's fine.)

The initial report shows things mostly too boring to discuss during actual play-- company strengths, number of wounded, number of dead, names of both at a first draft, levels of provisioning, projections for what will be needed to keep them hrough the Coronation, etc.

Another section details the facilities that are springing up for the use of the entire camp-- the hospital that Conner had already set up, inter-factional work crews and brigades, the fire brigade to make sure those damned flowers don't try any funny business, etc.

Aside from the real pressing business, though, it's very much high level details. The names of the dead and wounded, however, are germane to the meeting, and are not glossed over.

"We took a beating out there. There are going to be a lot of widows. And there are a lot of men extremely anxious to see women who... might not be as anxious to see them. Barring extreme circumstances, though, I plan to make early return to the City a reward contingent on the disposition and current behaviour of the various companies."

Jerod is quiet during Brennan's report, absorbing the information and fitting it together with other reports he's received. He asks questions only to clarify information, such as these "damnable flowers", the situation with Daeon, etc.

Once Brennan has finished, Jerod looks over at Conner. "What about from your end?" he asks. "How's the Navy looking at handling the transition? And how's our paranoid friend the Old Man?"

"Change the names and the Navy's story is pretty much the same." Conner replies. "As for the esteemed Admiral he seems content to wait for the riot or the revolution. I'm his plans are quietly in place even now."

"That's what worries me." Jerod says, sitting back in his chair. "Everyone's little plans. And which one of them is going to decide the time is appropriate to assert their rights."

Conner nods. "The merchants vs the Navy for shipping rights is round one on my side. The Old Man wants only heavily guarded convoys for the good of the Navy where the merchants want to sally forth en masse protection be damned to the delight of pirates and privateers everywhere I'm sure. Still at least that's a middle path easy to find in theory. Random was smart picking Gilt Winter." Conner smiles. "Hates his Old Man. A perfect way to keep the Navy off Random's social calender except for the neccesary."

"Here's a bit of info for you to chew on." Jerod says. "Selected noble families and merchant houses have agreed to subsidize the King's expenses in re-integrating the returning army. Their contributions will go into a common pool to be disbursed as he sees fit. In exchange, those groups that prove their loyalty will be given favorable consideration for trade routes and the like. That's not for general consumption either."

"This is all contigent on whether the King takes them up on it or not. I've arranged it but Random doesn't need to use it unless he wants to, especially since he's arranging for five years of pay to appear at the coronation. Certainly the nobles and such will figure out that their money is not needed once they hear that, but I'm sure some will try to do so anyway, as a means to gain support. It would be interesting to hear whether any of those merchants or nobles decide to approach the navy. I'd rather they didn't do an end-run around us."

Brennan hasn't got much to say during all this, but he's certainly paying attention. He nods at several points while Jerod speaks, about half the time with the air of someone confirming a hunch or a piece of uncorroborated information from another source.

"One wonders what they will do with all that loose change," he says quietly.

"All bribes that come through me will be duly noted and recorded." Conner smiles. "I'll my ears out for any that approach the Old Man but its tricky spying on the spymaster."

"I'd be more concerned about who might be approaching Caine." Jerod says. "Or who mentions having his support."

Brennan really has nothing to say to this, not being a naval type person.

"Point taken." Conner nods. "I'll check with Marius since he's more taking that end of things while I'm cooped up with the paperwork."

Jerod nods, going over any other kinds of logistical details, questions that might have arisen concerning methods of handing off the troops, who is the lead contact on which side, etc, etc. The usual mindless, mind-numbing details that must be attended to prior to any kind of big operation...all the while working patiently at his meal.

After he is finished his first meal, he leans back with his drink. "Now that we've gotten most of that out of the way, we come to the real reason why I've asked you both here. Care to hazard a guess?"

"I only hazard with Lucas." Conner smiles. "What's on your mind Jerod?"

Jerod looks over at Brennan for a moment.

Brennan looks around, notes that he's there rather than Bleys, and Conner is there rather than Caine. "I don't know you well enough to guess at your ulterior motives, Jerod. Speak your mind."

Jerod smiles. "I'm here to enlist you both in a little conspiracy."

The King's left hand wants to enlist Brand's and Fiona's sons in a little conspiracy. That might just be an unfortunate choice of words-- perhaps that's how Jerod's sense of humor runs.

There is very much an expression of fading patience on Brennan's face, though.

"Who's the greatest threat to the King?" Jerod asks, though it is clear he has his own opinion.

"Bleys and Fiona? Not to be too blunt but both Bleys and Fiona are traitors. That disqualifies them as suspects." Jerod says, taking a drink of his scotch. "Even with Oberon's pardon, they will always be under suspicion. They'll need to work their way back into good stead with the King and it will be too easy for one of Random's older siblings to point the finger if they so choose. And too easy for those who are wounded from past sins to accept that accusation without considering whether it might be true. Just for the record, I'm one of those in that category who would find it very easy to accept that accusation. I don't like that. It's a weakness I intend to correct."

He leans forward a bit, looking at the pair. "No. The King's enemies will come from those of his past who might not want their younger sibling in a position of authority over them. Where they think perhaps the King might decide to use his newfound power to...payback old debts? Caine is someone who fits into that category. Or perhaps there are those who feel that Random is not suitable for the position. That he lacks the august nature of Oberon. That he does not serve the old guard and the old ways. Amber dislikes change. Tradition is bred into the bone. And Random is going to turn Amber on its ear if I read him right. Even as he rules well."

Jerod pauses a moment, looking for reactions before proceeding. "So why you two? For now, don't assume you're the only two. For now, at this moment, you both have what I might considered a vested interest."

"Good cousin Conner here is certain to be interested in protecting dear old mother." Jerod says, looking at Conner. "Not only is it in your interest to ensure that no one frames her for something she doesn't do, it's also in your interest to ensure that if she did something incredibly foolish like trying to plot against the King...well, that action be taken to ensure it doesn't come off. The children of Amber have had five years to learn to put aside their differences. Our elders have had only two weeks. Their age and their experience notwithstanding, the old wounds for them are still very fresh."

"You...you've got a really bad position to start from." Jerod says, looking at Brennan. "Your father's name isn't even mentioned by family right now, except in a rather neutral fashion. The way one might describe a weather event. Even if you had nothing to do with him, people might point the finger. Hell, they probably are...just not when you're around and armed. But if you're like the other redheads, you'll band together. And since you've been teamed up with Bleys, you've probably been treated pretty well. Despite his overly flamboyant nature, Uncle Bleys does know how to treat his people well. So you have a vested interest too. You'll want to protect him."

For the record, age has its privledges, especially in Amber. Right now, the privledge of age is content to let youth speak first. Brennan has a pretty relaxed game face on as he waits for Conner to respond first-- but then, even a few days' acquaintance gives the impression that Brennan has weathered a lot of storms over the years, and doesn't tend toward the exciteable end of the personality spectrum... at all.

Conner's smile has remained in place during Jerod's spiel. His only visible reaction is in his eyes which narrow when Bleys and Fiona are called traitors, and look somewhat thoughtful as the rest unfolds.

"You speak in generalties, Jerod." Conner replies. "Tell us what you propose we do and then why we should believe this isn't a trap of your making." Conner replies grinning at him.

"That we keep the Regent's Council in being, though in secret." Jerod says. "I'm not proposing a maintenance of power. Rather, the one thing that our elders did not have that we did. Our ability to work together. To communicate. To plan and to act if needs must. We made our own place in Amber and proved we could be more than just children."

"We proved we could work together, even if we didn't like each other. Take a look and Paige and myself. If we truly had history, one of us would have tried to kill the other long ago. We might snipe, but that's all it'll be. We had no history of offenses between one another. None of us can say that of our elders. They might unite when a threat appears but that unity fades as the threat fades. For how many do the histories between them go back decades, centuries. My father and Corwin are the prime example of that behaviour. Look what it got us."

Jerod leans back in his chair. "As for whether this is a trap, it doesn't matter if you think it is." and he smiles a little. "You see, if you agree, then I get what I want. The children of the elders working together, sharing their information, keeping an eye on their own parents, supporting the King. That supports my future goal. Those who enlist get to help their parents, or whoever they might like, indirectly. For they will be working for the benefit of the King. That's worth something if someone decides to hurt those who you might care for."

"If however, you decide to go and tell your respective parents, they'll know that forces are marshalling to monitor them. They won't know who I've contacted, what I've put into place. Any that decide they want to play the old games will have to be extra careful, move more slowly. I've had five years to uncover their people, expose their networks, find their power bases. The King has all that. They'd have to be careful to cover their tracks and that gives the King time to consolidate his position, something that works against conspirators for the throne."

"And I'm not even afraid of someone moving against me if they thought I was the little ringleader in this escapade. Random knows I have no parent to protect me, but also no one for me to look out for. I will throw my support behind him until I can grow stronger, strong enough to make my own place. If someone decided to move against me, they might be successful and remove me. But it would alert Random. And anyone looking to threaten him wouldn't want to do that."

"Either way, I get what I want."

Through the end of this, Brennan takes a sip of his drink, and slowly swallows it, then swirls the remaining liquid in the glass as he replies.

"Well thank you, Jerod. In the last five minutes, you've alternately spoken down to me, insulted me, and tried to manipulate me, all for the purpose of recruiting me into a conspiracy of the highest possible goals. Now I feel like a member of the family."

Much like Bleys might, he's joking, only he's not.

Jerod offers no apology for his behaviour. He recognizes what Brennan is saying but seems to have taken it into account already.

"Old habits die hard cousin." Jerod says. "With luck that can change."

"I'm not going to apologize for being me. I do what I think is right. Does the end justify the means? Some say yes. I say 'Not always'. But I'd rather accidentally insult someone with good intentions behind me than behave with false friendship while putting a knife is someone's back.

"That's the world that we used to have here Brennan. Like it or not." Jerod looks at him directly. "We can whine and complain that it's unpleasant, or we can change it. I think you've got what it takes to help change it. I don't associate with people who are treacherous or incompetent. And I don't waste my time on those who are not willing to take risks. I don't have to like someone to work with them. But I do have to respect them. Consider that for what it's worth."

Conner does become thoughtful at that.

Brennan's eyes flicker, and the twisting half-smile comes out very briefly. The flattery came in right on schedule, and there's only two more plays to make in the standard book.

[Jerod]
"We can help change this place. That's risky business. The social inertia, the political resistance, all the old guard. People afraid of change and the unknown. It's one hell of a challenge. With no guarantee of success. Certainly no grand prize at the end of the road to collect personally. Might not seem to be worth the risk sometimes, though in the end the rewards are greater than anything imagined.

"Or we can go back to the status quo of what things used to be like here. It killed Brand, Deirdre, Oberon and my father. It damn near killed my best friend. It forges people who insult, manipulate, connive, plot and scheme for personal benefit. Just like me. Only I'm young enough to want to change it." and he leans back in his chair.

"So I'm going to be blunt with you, Brennan son of Brand. What would you like? The safe certain past of Amber's glory" and Jerod seems to have a hint of contempt for that glory in his voice. "Or a chance for a new future?"

Conner looks to Brennan and awaits his response.

The temperature behind Brennan's eyes are stabilized somewhere at about the average temperature of a Chicago spring morning, which isn't dangerous, but probably not where Jerod wants it to be.

"Several things need to be clarified, up front. First and foremost is that, while you're right-- friendship and personal affection aren't necessary for working together-- respect is a two way street. Three hours ago, you were a cipher to me. Now, you are the man who used to be a King's son, who insults, flatters, and manipulates all in the name of getting what he wants, while claiming the ends don't always justify the means.

"Second, change springs from within-- men, cities, and realms all. I won't count on luck to change your habits, cousin. Neither should you.

"Third, to my naive ears, what you have proposed is not a Regent's Council, so much as an unsanctioned spy ring, albeit of the highest possible breeding, in service to a nebulously defined future. But I am willing to give this the benefit of the doubt, perhaps, while you go into some more details on precisely who is involved, how precisely this would function, what precisely would be its goals, and how precisely it would go about achieving those goals. And how it meshes with whatever official duties you may already have."

Surely Jerod will not need to be told that those three points of clarification act in concert, not individually.

"I have no goals cousin." Jerod says, addressing both of them. "Apart from going back to the way things were. I have only one demand from everyone at the moment.

"To communicate. We meet regularly. I intend to bring everyone in. We talk...we hold nothing back. Short of things that are directly ordered to be kept secret by the King. As for being a spy ring, that only occurs when you're dealing with things that you're trying to take from others. Far different from what I'm suggesting." Jerod smiles, knowing full well the thin nature of the justification, but given that law and morality is always about justification, it all comes down in the end as to whether or not you're successful."

Conner smiles at the sophistry.

[Jerod]
"There's a reason why I'm well trained at manipulating people. No one talks. We keep all our little secrets hidden, cherishing them like bars of gold and gloating because someone has a secret that someone else doesn't have. Only those secrets can get us all killed if we're not careful.

"Let us start now with a revealing of secrets. For instance - did either of you know that Caine secretly negotiated with Corwin for Random's head, during Corwin's assault on Amber?" he asks, looking at the pair. "You can bet Random knows about it. Anyone want to hazard a guess as to whether Caine might be feeling a bit nervous right now with his little baby brother soon to be sitting on the throne? Anyone want to guess as to whether Random might be nervous that Caine might be nervous?

"Now you know why I want you watching Caine and M." Jerod says, looking at Conner. "I might be wrong." and he smiles, but it is not a nice smile. "I'd rather wrong, but I'm not dumb enough to stick my head in the ground."

"I'd be watching Caine and M anyway." Conner nods. "As you say its foolish not to. So all you ask is for the lines of communication to remain open. Reasonable enough. We do that now after all, after a fashion." Conner smiles.

"After a fashion isn't good enough." Jerod says, not in a confrontational way but clear enough that no one will mistake that he doesn't agree. "Not anymore. We might watch people because it's second nature, but if I don't know what you're finding out, I can't compare it to what I know or have heard. And vice versa.

"Before this, we were in charge. Now the parents have returned. We're going to be shuffled around. We'll lose authority, and can be blocked because those we previously could command have an option to go over our heads. Guaranteed. It will not be as easy to get information as we once could. And we have new people to bring into the fold." and he motions to Brennan. "We risk losing that fine veneer of peaceful co-existence we've built up if we don't act to secure it. Because if we do lose it, then we have to fight all over again to rebuild it. Only this time, there will be a lot more resistance."

"You make it sound like a round of massive divorce. 'Don't let the parents break us children apart and turn them against the others.' " Conner smiles. "If the flow of information remains two-way, I'm willing to give it a try."

"Given the potential for what we can accomplish, don't be surprised if some of them don't try just that." Jerod says to Conner before turning to Brennan.

Brennan did not smile at the sophistry as Jerod radically redefined the word "spy," when Conner did.

"Well, now at least I know why you've got a wedgie over Caine. On the other hand," he says, thinking back, "Secrets have been known to keep people alive. Did you know Caine was alive until he came back with us? Random didn't, as far as I know, until he took his helmet off by which time Brand was dead."

He continues, in a softer voice, "For that matter, there's a reason I didn't advertise my existence or location for a few centuries, after leaving Uxmal." Whatever he's remembering isn't pleasant.

From the pronunciation, one gets the impression that whatever language contains the word 'Uxmal' is probably a great language for cursing in-- it probably has a guttural to sibilant to vowel ratio of 4 to 1 to 1.

"How exactly would this work? Weekly meetings, everyone at the No Elders Poker Game?"

"The logistics can be worked out based on who joins up. Under the best circumstances we'd have everyone but I'm figuring the numbers will be a lot less. Cooperation doesn't come easily even with the younger generation. The more important issue is the comittment of who signs up. And who amongst them decides to try to play both ends against the middle. At least one will try to use the situation to their own advantage and at least one will be approached by their parent to act as their proxy in the same circumstance. We'll deal with that at the proper time." Jerod says.

[GM note: this thread has sat for a week without an answer, so I'm assuming it's dead. Participants can assume it wandered off into small talk and deal with it in future as they wish.]

[Let it end on a fairly skeptical note from Brennan, but not an outright dismissal. Brennan is brusque enough to let it be known (although not in so many words) that among the several flaws he sees with this scheme, Jerod is no more covered in an automatic aura of trustworthiness than anyone else. Brennan's opinion is, "Get back to me when you have details and a membership roster." Brennan likes details, and Jerod might, by the end of the evening, get the idea that every evasion, unanswered question, and question turned aside has been put in a mental file to be addressed later, or assumed the worst about.]