Garrett starts picking things up as the women head for the river, popping any uneaten crusts of bread into his mouth as he does so. When the women are gone, Garrett straightens and says sheepishly, "Your...um, Martin? I'm sorry about the outburst. That, um...wasn't the way I wanted that conversation to go." By the look in Garrett's eyes, it's obvious he means the brother thing.
"It's OK," Martin says. He beats Garrett to one of the uneaten crusts, takes a bite, then offers Garrett the other half.
Garrett takes it gratefully. "Thanks," he says as he eats it.
"When I was talking to Dad, your mother was screaming trying to beat down his office door looking for you. He hadn't told Vialle yet. It's been a s**tty day for everybody."
"F**k," Garrett fumes with a grimace. He stalks a few paces away from Martin, ripping his fingers through his hair. When he stops, he kicks at the gravel, sending it flying into the bushes. After everything he went through to keep it quiet, she blows it by pitching a fit...like he knew she would. If only he'd talked to her before...
Garrett takes a few deep breaths with his back to Martin, then turns around and walks back toward his brother. "I was afraid she'd do something like that," he mutters. He takes another deep breath and blows it out, again running his fingers through his hair, then looks at Martin. "Look, I don't know what's going on here, but what it looks like to me is you think I did something to threaten you, which caused you to do something to threaten me."
Martin pauses in wrapping up the remnants of sliced meat and looks at Garrett. His expression can best be described as mildly bewildered.
Garrett sighs and suddenly looks tired. "I'll answer any question you want. Will you do the same?"
"How 'bout I promise to answer any reasonable questions?" Martin asks. He hands Garrett another piece of bread. "I can't promise any more than that. I know too much."
Garrett nods once. "Fair enough. You ask first. You have seniority," he says as he sits on his favorite rock and takes a bite of the bread.
"It's also family custom that guests answer to hosts first, and this is my expedition. Fortunately for you, I'm in a talkative mood." Martin punctuates his comment with a bite from the piece of bread that he took from the same loaf he handed a slice of to Garrett a moment before.
After he's swallowed his mouthful of bread, Martin continues, "Dad says you're of the blood. He didn't deny paternity, says it's likely that you're his, but he didn't confirm it either. Do you have any idea what you're getting into here?"
Garrett chuckles as he swallows a bite of bread. "I'm getting one." He looks down at the ground and his expression turns a bit sad. "Yeah, I know," he says softly. "I'm bringing scandal on my family and yours. I'm tossing away everyone I ever considered a friend and replacing them with people who'll never accept me as equal because me mum was lowborn. All for some misplaced sense of duty. Because you can't maintain an oath of allegiance to a king while keeping this kind of secret from him. 'Cause deep down I thought he had a right to know." Garrett chuckles again, this time bitterly, "Yeah, I know."
Garrett looks up. "Do I ask now or does family custom say it's still your turn?" He's not being sarcastic. He genuinely wants to get the rules straight.
"The rules are designed for brothers meeting after a time apart. They're not really designed for brothers meeting for the first time," Martin explains. "I'll waive my right to hear your story just yet, since I can probably piece most of it together based on what I already know. Go ahead and start asking me questions and if I need to I'll stop you and we'll backfill."
He takes another bite of bread. Between the two of them, leftovers are clearly going to get cleaned up by means of there not being any.
Garrett nods. He has several things he wants to ask, but there is really only one question that he can't shake. He looks directly at Martin and asks, "Did you break Lunging's leg, and if yes, why?"
"Are you sure you want to know the answer to that question? Because you can't unknow it once you do." Martin's gaze holds Garrett's; his blue eyes are deep as the sea.
Garrett nods once, not breaking the gaze.
"Very well," Martin says.
"I broke his leg. He was running messages from a spy in the castle to a Rebman agent in the city, and I interrogated him to find out the names of his contacts. He was a traitor to the crown, and I'm a prince. By right and law, I could have killed him and no one could have gainsaid me.
"I might have been able to get by without breaking his leg, but that was a message to an agent of Rebma's who tracked me down at Red Mill to threaten me yesterday. He needed to know that I wasn't kidding when I said I'd send him floating home if he touched anyone of mine. Now he does know."
Martin adds, after a moment, "New lesson. Never threaten to kill anyone unless you're sure you can carry the threat out."
Garrett files the lesson along with the many others he's learned today. "A spy in the castle?" he exclaims. Garrett leans forward, elbows on knees and hands clasped, his gaze serious and the wheels in his head turning furiously.
"Lunging went into town at night, couple times a week, usually. Always came back bragging in the morning 'bout which tart he screwed the night before. Nobody ever paid him no mind, 'cept Dun. Dun went with him sometimes, but he was usually so drunk he didn't remember what he did by morning."
Martin nods, once. Clearly this information, while new to him, matches whatever pattern he's been building in his head.
Garrett's eyes turn as icy as Martin's. "Your H...Martin, if there's others involved in this down there, I want to know. There's a lot of good lads down there. Lads with promise. Men with families. Me d... people I care a great deal about. If these guys are puttin' them all in danger, I want 'em gone, too."
"Absolutely not. You need to stay out of this," Martin says vehemently. "You aren't even going back to Amber until Dad figures out what to do with you."
Garrett's eyebrows cock with surprise at this news. He adds one more question to the end of his list.
[Martin] adds in a more even tone, "Guys like Lunging are no threat to the people immediately around them. The people who recruited him, the ones whose messages he's carrying--they're the threat. You're not ready to deal with them."
Garrett chews his lip, processing this and formulating his next question. "Is this...this spy ring thing the reason His Majesty kept Donovan up at the Keep for so long today? Was he trying to get information on that, do you know?" Garrett's voice has taken on an element of concern that wasn't there a moment ago.
"Dad didn't seem to know about it when I mentioned it to him just now, so unless he's playing his cards very close to his chest, no. I haven't seen him today other than just now, and he didn't say anything about your, uh, foster-father ..." Martin sort of hangs on the last word, ending it in a slight uplift, as if he's not sure he's chosen the right word.
Garrett confirms the relationship with a nod.
He concludes with: "So I don't know anything about that."
Garrett sighs. "Well, I reckon I'll have to talk to him about it when...if..." he questions with a quirk of the eyebrow, "I get back." He leans over and unwraps the meat, placing a couple of pieces on a slice of bread and folding it in half. He reseats himself and says, "There's so much I don't know that I don't even know what to ask. How 'bout you ask a couple?" He takes a big bite of sandwich.
Martin starts making a sandwich of his own as he answers Garrett.
"I don't have much to ask. You're a royal bastard one way or another. You told Folly and Lilly about it, they encouraged you to talk to Dad, and you did that. You ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time while I was dealing with a security matter, so I dragged you along to keep your mouth shut, which may or may not have been a mistake because of your mother thinking Dad had me kidnap you. Oh, Dad did mention your foster-father once--he's called for him to calm your mother down. Anyway, it's a clusterf**k of enormous proportions, but we'll work it out."
Garrett looks relieved at the mention that his mother will soon be reined in. He has ultimate confidence that Donovan can control her. Also, that indicates that Donovan is still free and in one piece.
"Oh, and you have no idea what princes of Amber do or what it means to be one, or what they're going to think or do about you."
Martin takes a bite of his completed sandwich while Garrett digests all that.
Garrett smiles for the first time since they arrived here, and with the smile, Martin will probably see more of the paternal resemblance. "Yeah, that about sums it up," he says. "I reckon that's the next question then. When I talked to Lady Folly, she said I should talk to you 'cause you could teach me a lot." He looks at Martin apologetically. "I hope you're still willing after all this."
Garrett adds with a chuckle, "And she was worried about *you* jumping to the wrong conclusions."
Martin snorts, amused. "I'll bet."
Garrett pauses, waiting for more of a response from Martin. However, when it appears there's nothing more forthcoming than sandwich-chewing, Garrett ventures, "So...what do princes of Amber do?"
"Um, lots of things. Most of the time, whatever they want. Now, not so much being a layabout and more working. Leading ships, or maybe laying trade routes in time. Some of them will be on military duty for a while. Maybe fighting in Arden, if things go bad, but I don't think they'll ask you to do that. Helping people move, when that happens."
Martin takes another bite of his sandwich. "Sometimes you train other princes. Dad said he might squire you to me. I was gonna wait and see how you felt about that, but it sounds like you're OK with it."
Garrett shrugs. "I reckon it's okay, if you'll have me. I do know how to fence, prob'ly as well as a lot of the guards, but not like any of the royals. Me blade's at home, though. Riding's me strong suit. That I do as well as anyone I know." Amazingly, that comes off more like stating a fact than bragging.
Garrett takes another bite of sandwich. "So where are we moving?" he asks casually after he swallows. He has the servant's impression of hefting furniture from one part of the castle to another.
"Xanadu," Martin tells him, and takes a swig from his flask. "Where we're going now. You'll see." He offers the flask to Garrett again.
Garrett accepts the flask and takes a small swig. Now that he knows how strong the stuff is, he wants to make sure he doesn't drink so much that he forgets anything Martin is telling him. He hands the flask back to his brother with thanks. "I hope they have food and a change of clothes if I'm to stay there indefinitely. All I brought are me grooming tools and the clothes on me back," he says.
"Don't worry about that. It'll be taken care of," Martin says. He sounds very sure of himself.
Garrett leans down and pokes around in the things that Lilly brought over until he finds a waterskin. The scotch was excellent, but right now, he's a whole lot thirstier than that. He uncaps it and chugs several large swallows to wash down the last of the sandwich. He turns back to Martin and asks, "So how come the King decided to move? Is this some kind of summer palace or something?"
Martin pauses, as if thinking, and asks, "How much did Lilly tell you about the Pattern?"
Garrett hesitates, weighing his words. He does not want to get Lilly in trouble. "Just that it's how those of the Blood activate whatever powers they have and that she was going to walk on it soon. She seemed pretty nervous about it."
Martin nods, once.
"When I spoke with the king, he said something about it being..." he pauses, knitting his eyebrows together in thought, "how you 'master the family heritage of control over shadow' and something about being able to alter reality."
A light bulb goes off in Garrett's eyes. "Hey, is that what you did to get us here?"
Martin nods again. "We're far away from Amber. You probably couldn't get back to Amber from here. Folly could, and maybe Celina--now that she's been there--but not you or Lilly. Did she tell you what happens when if you try to walk the Pattern and fail?"
"Not really, but the King was pretty graphic about it," Garrett answers. "Something about not even leaving a corpse to bury."
"I've never seen it, but I've never failed a walk," Martin says, "and I don't intend to. Fail one, or see someone else fail one. Anyway, that's why we're moving. The Pattern."
He uncaps his flask again and takes a sip from it.
Garrett knows he should go back to the question at hand, but the tangent is just too tempting. "When did you walk it?" he asks eagerly. "The King said Oberon's rule was you couldn't walk it 'til after you were thirty, but that he doesn't have a rule. He said it's 'to be discovered', but he didn't say how. How do you know when you're ready?"
Martin glances down at the girls on the edge of the water. When he looks back, Garrett isn't quite sure what Martin is seeing, but it's in a distance that doesn't seem to include Garrett. "I didn't know whether I was ready or not. In retrospect, I was suicidally stupid, but I had no way of knowing better ... my grandmother had seen to that. No one had really tried to teach me, to make me ready. To judge whether or not I knew enough to survive, or was strong enough."
His eyes come back into focus and he looks at Garrett. "I don't remember exactly how old I was. Maybe a hundred fifty, a hundred sixty?" The question is obviously rhetorical. "Less than two hundred, anyway."
Garrett stares at his brother for a long moment, sobered. Lilly's description of the dangers was abstract; she hadn't done it yet. Random's warnings had the feel of a parent saying "Because I said so." But the look in Martin's eyes at the memory of the ordeal and the fact that he had been nearly ten times Garrett's age at the time forces Garrett to truly understand that this is not a lark.
Garrett looks down the hill toward the girls; toward Lilly. In Random's office, the feeling had been competition. How come Lilly was being allowed to walk and he wasn't? Now he is afraid for her. He chews his lip and says finally, almost to himself, "Lilly's only twenty." He sighs, then continues, "I reckon if Folly and Celina both did it, then she can. And the King seems to think she's ready, but..." he trails off and sighs again. Anyone who cares for a woman as much as Martin does Folly could not mistake what's in Garrett's eyes as he gazes down the hill.
[And any man who has made it to Martin's age has an opinion about that look in the eyes of a lad Garrett's age. But Martin wisely keeps his to himself.]
"Lilly proved herself in the war," Martin says, as if that's an explanation. "Celina may have been forced to it too early. I don't know enough yet to say. I was kept from it too long. Folly ... Folly got it just right, I think. And Lilly will do fine."
Garrett looks back at Martin and nods. "Yeah. She will," he says resolutely, as if saying it will make it so.
[Martin] adds, "Someone will stay with you while she walks. It probably won't be me unless her father shows up. Someone should stand witness for him, and I owe him. But Folly might stay with you, or Celina. I don't know who else is coming to Xanadu."
Garrett composes himself, a little embarrassed that he revealed enough of his feelings to make Martin feel he needs a babysitter while Lilly walks. "Would it be possible for me to watch so I know what to expect once I prove meself worthy?" he asks evenly.
"No," says Martin. "That's not allowed. You can't watch anybody until you do it yourself." He presses his lips together slightly.
Garrett nods with only a little disappointment. He had kind of expected that, but it was worth a shot. With his exploration of the tangent done, he moves on. "Back to the question, though. If the King has already walked the Pattern, why does he need to move to be near it? He doesn't need to walk it more than once, does he?"
"Sometimes people have to walk it again. Corwin lost his memory and regained it by walking the Pattern. But that's not why we're moving. You remember the Sundering, right?" Martin asks. He's still holding his uncapped flask loosely in his hand.
Garrett frowns slightly. "Yeah, I remember."
"That's why we're moving," Martin says.
Garrett's blank stare clearly shows he has no idea what Martin's talking about.
After a moment, he adds, "Well, there's a lot more to it than that, but that's the short version."
Garrett gazes at Martin as he contemplates whether to press for the long version. After a moment, he decides against it. He remembers the things Lilly said last night about the Pattern and the Sundering, but of course, that's information he's not supposed to know. Also, it suddenly hits him that after everything he's learned today, his brain is really not up for complex explanations right now.
He nods and smiles wearily. "Well, I reckon if I'm not going back to Amber anytime soon, I'll have time to hear the long version later. I ought to get to the horses," he says, his horseman instincts taking over.
Garrett starts to rise, then remembers another question. "Martin, is there any way I can get a message back to me parents? If I could write a note to me mum to tell her I haven't been kidnapped, perhaps she'd stop laying siege to the castle."
"I think it would be unwise to do that right now," Martin says, capping the flask. "You need to lay low until Dad gets his bearings. If he weren't king, it would be easier, but he is ... and that means publicly recognizing you has political ramifications. So does refusing to recognize you. But either way, we need to keep you offstage in Xanadu until he has a chance to sort things out: the court, his wife, the whole nine yards."
Garrett's disappointment is evident, but he's never been a whiner and he's not about to start now. He nods and says softly, "I understand." He adds with a tight-lipped smile, "I reckon you'll just have to stay a kidnapper a little longer, then." The attempt at humor is obviously his way of dealing with his worries.
As Garrett turns toward the horses, he says, "You will let me know when it's safe to do that, though, won't you?"
[Martin] rises, as if planning to come with Garrett.
"Dad will undoubtedly have decided what he's going to do by the time I call him from Xanadu." Martin grimaces slightly. "Not that I think he's not going to recognize you, I mean. I don't see how he can do anything else, now that he's finally recognized me, but ... anyway."
Garrett greets his horse with a ruffle of his mane, then starts removing his saddlebags. He looks over at Martin dubiously and shrugs. "Hard to say. You're more easily recognized. You're royal on both sides." Garrett removes his saddle, sets it aside and starts rummaging in his saddlebags for his hoof pick and curry comb.
"I guess," says Martin. "I never even met him until just before the Sundering, though. That was when he admitted paternity." He turns away and starts toward his [own] horse. "I have something you'll need in the saddlebags."
Garrett looks up from his rummaging with interest. He sets the bag down and follows his brother.
Martin takes the saddlebags off of Folly's horse, rather than his own, and digs into them. Almost immediately he comes up with what he's looking for: a short sword, one that takes up the length of the bag. It's sheathed, and has a belt rolled up with it.
"C'mere," Martin says, unrolling the belt.
Garrett looks the sword over as he comes to stand in front of Martin. "That's for me?" he asks, surprised.
"I was going to have Folly carry it, but I think you'll do better with it. You need to learn how to walk with a sword. Lift your arms," Martin instructs. He starts to drop the belt over Garrett's head in preparation for buckling it on him.
Garrett holds up his arms as his big brother buckles the sword belt on him. He smiles as he considers that this must be what it's like for his sisters when he helps them.
Once buckled, Garrett backs up a few paces and draws the blade. It is a little shorter than the one he usually practices with, but more beautiful than any blade he's ever held. The proper weight, perfectly straight, no nicks or dings. And dangerously sharp. As he tries a few of his favorite maneuvers, a broad grin spreads across his face.
Martin can tell that Garrett has indeed had some training somewhere along the line. His footwork is good and with his speed alone he could probably best a small majority of the Royal Guards. However, his defense is sloppy. Of the cousins, he could probably only best Folly.
Garrett sheaths the sword and still grinning, walks back over to Martin. He holds out his hand to shake. "Thank you," he says and his words are heartfelt, not just for the blade but for the trust behind it.
Martin gives him a friendly clasp and says, "Think nothing of it. You're of the blood of Amber; you should be outfitted according to your station. Now let me show you how to walk. If you walk like you would without a sword, the sheath will bang against your leg. So you have to change your balance a little to make it work. Like so."
Martin walks forward several steps, demonstrating the correct gait. Garrett can see how it lets the sword hang correctly.
"Now you try it."
Garrett tries the walk, but his exaggerated motion at first makes him look like he's limping. He paces back and forth several times until he starts getting used to it. "I reckon the trick is to make it look natural, huh?" he says with a self-conscious smile.
Martin's grin, by contrast, is just amused. "You're starting a bit late, but not that late. By the time you're my age, it'll be natural. You'll be able to do just about anything with it on." He starts to add something else, but decides against, although his eyes are sparkling with good-natured amusement.
Garrett pauses in his walking and looks up with a smirk. His eyes are also sparkling. As he continues to pace, he asks, "So who taught you all this if you never met R...your father until recently?" From the brief hesitation, Martin will probably catch that Garrett is still unsure what to call Random. At this moment, 'His Majesty' is too formal, 'Random' is too familiar and 'Dad' just doesn't feel right.
"Ben--our uncle Benedict. I knew him when I was a boy. He brought me above the waves one year, and I went to him again after I came of age," Martin explains.
Garrett stops dead. "Prince Benedict? THE Prince Benedict? He trained you?" He regards Martin with new admiration.
"Yeah, Lilly's dad," Martin agrees. "I wasn't as good of a student as she was, though. She put me in my place the first time we sparred."
Garrett chuckles. He's seen Lilly train a few times. She would be hard for anyone to beat.
He adds, "He's your uncle too. You'll meet him when he comes to visit. Maybe we can get him to give you a few pointers."
"I certainly need them," Garrett answers. With a shake of his head, he looks at the ground and says thoughtfully, "I'm still getting used to the fact that all these people who were larger than life to me are now me aunts and uncles. Or father and grandfather. Dad...I mean, Donovan, always made it a point to introduce me to them when I was at the stables. I even met King Oberon once, and I met our father several times, though I didn't know he was that then."
He looks up again and smiles wistfully. "After I found out, he said he did it so I would know who they were when I learned the truth."
"That was very smart of him. You have a lot to learn about the family." Martin glances down to the girls, who are bathing in the water, but his attention is once again at a further distance. After a moment, he shakes his head slightly, and says, "We should take the girls some soap, in case they want to bathe instead of just soak."
Garrett nods. Other than a slightly reddened face, he hides any discomfort he might have over the idea of bathing with the girls. After all, some of his best friends from the Quarters were girls and they used to swim together at the falls often. This is just a new set of friends, he tells himself.
"Lead on," he smiles as he follows Martin.
Celina strolls and sees the lower banks come into view. The river glimmers with sky light and has a current that will massage tired legs. She almost reaches for her hems as she walks, then thinks better of the timing.
When Celina is downslope from Garrett and Martin, and within a few yards of the river, she reaches and pulls the over-large black dress up over her head. She slings it over her shoulders and sniffs it gently.
Celina ponders the material and how easily it might rinse and dry.
Stopping at the pebbled edge of the water, Celina uses her right boot toe to tug off the red footgear without bending over. Then her green toes hold the left boot while she discards it also. She bundles the dress and knots it so she can set it directly on top of her arranged boots.
Celina looks at her companions. "Do we need to do this in turns?" She eyes Lilly and Folly. Strapped to Celina's thigh is a dagger that she apparently isn't taking off. The rest of her is soft emerald skin.
"Well, that depends," replies Folly, who has stripped down as far as her delicate pink underthings and is now carefully arranging her jeans and t-shirt atop her black riding boots. "There's a long-standing tradition in some cultures of boys trying to steal the clothes of girls while they bathe. Do we think ours are that sort of boy?" She winks at Celina, then turns a more serious eye on Lilly.
Celina is caught with a raised eyebrow at boys stealing clothes. The wink makes her laugh.
Lilly may or may not realize she's being offered an out from frolicking nude with her cousins, if she wants one.
Up the slope from the water, the girls can see that the boys are indeed putting away the leftovers--by eating them.
It is the reaction of the Rebman that causes the slight look of terror from Lilly's features. She glances back towards the men momentarily. "Our boys are both wise enough to fear my wrath, I think." The delivery is deadpan despite the fact that she is mostly joking.
The sudden sparkle in Folly's eye, the pinkness in her cheek, betray barely-suppressed laughter.
"I'll Leave my sword close by, that way if I need it I can retrieve it quickly." It is clear she does not plan to have to use it on the boys. All the same, their could be other predators lurking about.
Slowly, Lilly begins to disrobe. Though not particularly comfortable with the situation, the need for cleanliness easily overrides her self-consciousness. Unlike the other two, Lilly seems less concerned about the eventually condition of her clothing and more concerned about the placement of her weapon. She takes great care to ensure it is lying atop her garments.
Lilly's calm prompts Celina to the water. Careful of her hair, Celina makes sport of cupped handfuls of water. Her movements seem spontaneous, but laced with a rhythm that is from a secret symphony. Tiredness washes away. Pleasure comes to dance in her eyes. Celina is younger in appearance for each sweep of water running over her shoulders and down the soft curves to the sea.
Once undressed, Lilly takes a moment to let her hair loose. It cascades about her shoulders as she makes her way into the water. Once the depth permits, she submerges herself completely, enjoying the coolness against her skin. Rising up close to Celina she says, "I have never been to Rebma but I imagine it is very different from a place such as this despite the obvious similarities."
With a wistful smile, Folly watches her cousins take to the water. _We three sirens could pull nations off-course,_ she thinks, _just by doing what comes naturally._ She discards the rest of her clothing atop her boots and wades in to join Celina and Lilly.
The Seaward girl meets Lilly's eyes and obviously waits a few beats before answering. Whether it is for Folly to close with them, or to gather her thoughts about Rebma is moot. Celina speaks slowly and seems to choose her words. "Rebma is very different from the Seaward, let alone the shadows of Amber, which 'this place' seems to be. If you meant the river as a place, Lilly, then even more so. To stand in running water is not a sensation easy to come by in Rebma."
Celina tilts her head and washes briskly under her arms. "If you meant 'this place' as the five of us, then you are right to assume that the similarites do nothing but throw off the balance of what Rebma is--has been for me. Sometimes I get lost in the difference for a second. The thought flows down instead of up." Celina tries an example. "A man of high rank leading three women in the wild with an untried young man along for liege's support. This is unlikely but not impossible to imagine. But merely turn it around a bit, and it is a senior royal leading four young proteges into unknown danger and wonder. In this framework, Rebma is no different. It is the details that trip the reflex. I have to find new reflexes and I will."
Lilly nods. The only meaning she had intended was idle small talk. Of course she liked Celina's answer much better. It gave her many things to consider.
Folly nods and says, "You know, to a certain extent Xanadu will become what we make of it. Perhaps we all should be considering how best to shape our reflexes to fit the situation, and vice versa." With a soft smile, she twists her hair into a pair of secure knots just above her ears and begins rinsing her neck and shoulders with water from her cupped hands.
Again, Lilly simply nods. She would begin to consider such things after her pattern walk. Until then her mind was simply too preoccupied to truly give consideration to just about anything else.
After a moment's thoughtful silence, she looks at Lilly and asks, "How long have you and Garrett...?" She leaves it to Lilly to fill in whatever-it-is they are. It doesn't entirely sound like a change of subject.
Obviously Folly has managed to catch her completely off guard. For a moment she can only stare, the color rising slightly in her cheeks. She tries to recover. "Have we what?" she nearly sputters. The mixture of trepidation, embarrassment, and excitement coming to the surface could only be achieved by a woman on the verge of letting her innocence fall to the wayside. The rushing water seems to wash away her poise and confidence as she stands there. Left behind is a young girl, vulnerable and perhaps more then a bit unprepared.
Folly bites the inside of her lower lip to stifle her own reaction. "...have you... ah... been the sort of friends that share those kinds of secrets," she ventures. She continues gently, "I, ah, know a thing or two about throwing one's lot in with the son of a king, you see, and I thought--- well, if you'd like a perspective on what you're letting yourself in for, for your own sake and also for Garrett's---" It is clear from her tone that Folly's feelings toward the stablehand are both warm and protective.
The rush of emotion begins to subside within Lilly. Relationship between men and women were natural she reminded herself. Sooner or later people were bound to find out. It might as well be here and now while she was with someone who cared enough to try to be of assistance.
A sudden crease appears between Folly's brows, and she sighs. "Oh, and I suppose I ought to give you the lecture I had from his father, too."
If any of them chance to look up the hill, Martin and the aforementioned Garrett have moved over to where the horses are. The elder brother is buckling a sword belt, which Folly remembers him tossing into the saddlebag, around the younger's waist.
"I have a fondness for royal lectures," says Celina with a straight face. "But since Lilly seems a bit caught out, I can take myself off to that shade tree over there and still be in sight."
Lilly shakes her head, "That is really not necessary."
Folly nods her agreement. At the very least, Celina probably oughtta hear the Royal Lecture too. Just in case.
[Lilly] sighs deeply before forcing herself to continue on. "The truth is I probably could use some advice. I have never... well... I've never anything. I've never even thought about men really. No time. And most of the ones I knew were either asses or mentors or both. Back at the Tecys most men were a bit put out by a woman who did not simply spend her time caring for a home and children. Obviously I did not fit into their mold." A pleased smile comes to her features. She liked not fitting into their mold.
Folly grins.
Celina nods. This then was the place that Martin and Jerod found themselves in Rebma. Not fitting in. Women a bit put out. What would Moire have done if I was conceived a boy?
A riptide wash hits her in backtow. Her thoughts are sweeping as Celina chews her lip. What's to say I wasn't? She would have changed that.
"After our return, I realized that even though the city of Amber was not so different, the royals were. Few have written me off as 'just a woman'. For the first time, I felt acceptance and was able to relax. I suppose that is why he," and be this she clearly means Garrett, "was able to break through. My defenses were down. Now that he's in though, I really don't want him to leave. But I have no idea what I am doing and I hate that feeling. I like being on sure ground. And to make matters worse, I plan on walking the pattern in Xanadu. I hate having this distraction. At the same time though, I think pushing him away might distract me more." Lilly shakes her head. Men were horribly confusing. She should have been smart and just stayed away from them.
"Distraction would be--" Celina shuts up. Folly is the mentor here.
But Folly, looking genuinely interested, motions for Celina to continue.
Celina gnaws at her lower lip and quickly looks back to Lilly, then Folly, but finally locks gazes with Lilly. "Cousin, consider well the source of advice from the thick-headed Seaward girl, but distraction while attempting the Pattern would be terrible. I just know it would."
Folly nods.
Fear makes itself known in Lilly's eyes. Quickly she fights it back. She could do this. She would do this. Nothing would stop her.
"But," Celina goes on without much pause, "consider that Garrett is no distraction at all. He may be some part of you trying to grow. Everything you are should be part of that walking--that thing I can't easily describe that happens when you walk the Pattern. It took everything I had--and I was a terrible rag once it was done. Any resource you can gather to you--any new experience might help. It must be to be open and be hurt rather than fortify and find out you've locked out some essential bit."
The words seem to soothe and calm the girl. Love does not have to be an intrusion, she tells herself and for the first time she is starting to believe it.
Celina looks a bit wild of eye. "Keeping yourself true to not fit any mold--means taking chances, I think."
Yes, [Lilly] silently agrees. Her eyes find the sword lying nearby. For her it represented security. While it is at her side, there is no fear but there is also no chance. Every move is calculated, every thought analyzed. With Garrett she was vulnerable. He simultaneously frightened and excited her. His presence did not allow for complacency but it did leave plenty of room for truth emotional growth.
Folly nods again. "Before I walked, I was told that the Pattern is different for everyone that walks it. But... I think it makes you more of what you are by challenging you with what you already are, if that makes any sense. So I think the challenge of walking the Pattern is largely what you bring to it." She glances at Celina as if for corroboration.
Celina looks intrigued, but adds nothing for now.
"If you bring thoughts of Garrett to the Pattern, it's quite possible that will become part of the test, somehow." Folly gets a faraway look in her eyes and absently rubs the back of her neck. "Which... which brings me to the royal lecture."
She looks at Lilly, then Celina, then back at Lilly.
There is definite interest in Lilly's expression.
Celina smiles a bit to encourage Folly to just be straightforward.
"He has suggested it would be bad -- metaphysically -- for the descendents of Oberon to have children together. Not that that's kept it from happening, of course, even with Oberon himself---" [Folly] smiles wryly, but her eyes are sad. "And, you know, possibly neither of you need to worry about that right this second -- but I thought you might oughtta know for future reference."
Celina shows easily by the set of her mouth she was not expecting this information. She seems to mask disappointment and put it away quickly.
The fear returns. Children? Me? With Garrett? With Anyone? Hardly. The King has nothing to worry about. The matter is closed as far as Lilly is concerned.
At least for the next several moments...
Folly's expression softens as she continues to regard Lilly. "And as for all the rest of it -- deciding whether a guy is right for you, or whether you're even ready to explore the possibility, or... or what the heck to do about busybodies who won't leave you alone because they don't have anything better to do than gossip about royal romance -- well, I don't promise to have all the answers, but I'm happy to help you work through it all." She smiles.
"Thank you," Lilly responds sincerely feeling that she is getting herself into far more then she could possible anticipate. For the first time though she is more eager then afraid. This is something new, something she is not good at. Garrett, if nothing else, is a challenge. And Lilly really did like challenges.
"And thank you for the King's lecture," Celina adds. She wrestles something into place behind her eyes. "But did he say clearly bad for the parents to do so, or bad for the children? It seems that would make a difference."
"Yeah, doesn't it?" Folly agrees. "But he says he doesn't know _how_ it would be bad -- just that he needs to forbid it to prevent tragedy." She shrugs helplessly.
Lilly can only nod as she remembered her father's advice. Avoid having children, he had said. One warning had been enough. The second serves to finalize the matter.
Celina slides hands now over her shoulders and down her muscles, shedding water neatly. "I think the boys are coming now." She nods up the hill.
Without thinking about it, Lilly lowers herself into the water so that only her head is showing.
And indeed, Martin and Garrett are making their way down from where they left the horses. Martin has a packet of something in one hand, which he waves at the women. "Are we welcome to come in if we bring soap?" he calls.
Garrett follows a step or so behind his brother. He tries not to look too closely at any particular naked woman, and looks down at his feet a lot as if checking his gait. The girls could not possibly miss the new sword that hangs at his side, or the smile that looks like the cat that ate the canary.
Folly grins. "You're welcome even without the soap, love. But," she adds with an even broader grin, "you might wanna remind your brother that his new toy is not a bath toy." She catches Garrett's eye and winks.
Garrett grins broadly at her and begins unbuckling the sword belt.
Celina has a laugh at Garrett's obvious pleasure.
Pushing the remnants of fear aside, Lilly tries to relax. It is a bit of a useless effort but she tries. In that moment she decides to simply follow Folly's lead in these matters. Folly knows how to handle these situations, that is clear and right now she really needs a teacher.
"No swords in the pool," Martin tells Garrett. He tosses the soap packet to Folly and turns his back to the girls, doffing his own sword-belt first, then beginning to strip. His boots are the only thing it takes him more than a moment to get out of, and then he dashes into the water, as if he expects it to be a bit chilly and wants to get over the shock of it fast.
[To Celina, this is nothing unusual, of course. These Amber people can be hung up about nudity.]
Anyone who is paying attention to Martin as he gets into the water notices he has a large scar on his belly, where it seems someone has tried to gut him like a fish.
Garrett undresses as well, also with his back to the girls. As he's bending over to take off his boots, he notices the scar on Martin's midsection. He gulps and looks back down at what he's doing. That would be another question for later.
Concentrating his gaze on open water and not any of the girls, Garrett wades into the river and enthusiastically goes under head first. When he comes up a few yards later, he shakes his wet hair out of his face and exclaims, "The water's _beautiful!_" The river is much warmer than the swimming hole on the mountainside.
"Even more so, yes," Celina nods to Garrett and then Lilly. She has smothered a wince at Martin's scar.
If Folly shows any reaction to Martin's scar, it is completely masked by her obvious joy in Martin himself. She continues to be peripherally aware of Celina and her enjoyment of the water, of Garrett and Lilly and the careful attention they are paying to not paying attention to each other; but most of her attention is firmly, happily, playfully tuned to her lover.
Martin swims over to Folly, and for a moment, the circuit is closed and no one exists in that part of the river but the inhabitants of their charmed circle.
Celina doesn't even try not to watch. Her smile is still there and eyes aglitter when they break.
Then he takes her hand and kisses it, and turns his attention back to the others. "Slight change of plan. We're gonna take the slow road to Xanadu to buy some time for Dad to handle matters in Amber. When we get there, we'll trump people in and run from there."
From his own spot in the water, Garrett nods his understanding. Then, with a rakish grin aimed primarily at Folly but also at his brother, he teases, "If you two lovebirds are done with the soap, toss it over."
Folly snorts in mock-indignation and makes great show of soaping up her back and arms, and then Martin's, too, before tossing the soap to Garrett; but he can feel the glee just beneath her teasing facade.
As Garrett soaps, Celina engages Lilly in conversation about the Queen. The Seaward girl is curious about the royal demeanor and how much influence Random allows to Vialle. She wonders if Lilly knows much about how the women of Amber are welcomed in Court.
Folly seems interested in Lilly's answers as well, though Celina may suspect Folly already has answers of her own.
While Lilly fills her in, Celina also notes exactly how much Garrett likes the soap and how thoroughly he maps his muscles with it.
"Amber is a patriarchy," Lilly begins. "That is an inarguable fact. Our uncles will deny it, but most underestimate the women in the family. And there are individual exceptions. But for the most part...
"Since arriving though, I've also noticed that there is a chasm of difference between royalty and commoner. The common women of the city are just like the common women of most patriarchies. Within the palace, we have more say, more influence. The King does not seem quick to judge based up gender for instance. Others seem to look down on everyone with no particular attention to gender. In a way I can accept that. Equality is equality after all. As I've said though, a few of our Uncles seem to have rather archaic views of woman's place even if they do not voice them."
Celina nods with appreciation. "This I've been led to expect. Would it be indelicate to ask you to name names of such few? I'd rather not start off wrongly with an uncle that sees me as a walking incubator."
Folly smirks at that last comment, but nods to Lilly. "Yeah, I imagine you know most of our uncles far better than I do. They were already off at the war by the time I got to Amber." To Celina, she adds, "Gerard, whom I do know, will *not* see you as a 'walking incubator'. And I expect the king's new court at Xanadu will be reasonably egalitarian. But as to the rest...." She gestures to Lilly to fill in the many blanks. She still seems vaguely amused by something.
"Well, between us," she says motioning to Folly, "I suppose we can give you some idea." She pauses a moment considering the question.
"Random, I think, has learned to expect the unexpected. Because of that, he will not underestimate or over look anyone. And the Queen does love him or so it would seem." Lilly shrugs unsure of the worth of that statement.
Folly listens with interest, but her expression has taken on a carefully neutral cast.
"My father... He is probably the least likely to write off anyone for any reason. He can find the worth in all. However, the worth of everyone else may not equal his own sense of self-worth so be prepared for that. And I think he has come to almost expect most woman of patriarchal societies to be sheep. Of course that does not mean he places bets on stereotypes, he just remains aware of them. Caine is probably similar. Julian obviously likes to spawn as he seems to have the greatest number of offspring and a few of the mother's are what I would consider interesting choices. Still they are strong woman in their respective cultures so that may say something. Bleys plays the part of typical male noble most days but my guess is that is mostly an act. And Folly has told you what I have noticed of Gerard." Lilly quite purposefully leaves out Corwin. If any of their uncles saw women as incubators, it was probably him. However pointing that out to his daughter might not be wise.
"Of the youngers? I can only speak for those I fought alongside of. Brennan will see you as you prove yourself to be. And I would like to think Jovian will as well. I must admit though he does seem to take after his father when it comes to choosing partners. Marius would not dishonor his mother by using a woman, or so I would like to I think. Whatever you do, stay away from Adonis or Daeon or whatever he is calling himself at the moment. No good can come from associating with him. I can almost guarantee it."
Folly gives a small smile. By way of clarification, she says to Celina, "He's a fertility god, it turns out. He's not ill-intentioned, but he can be a bit... single-minded." Celina can tell that while Folly's attitude toward Adonis is somewhat cautious, she does not share Lilly's uniformly negative opinion of their cousin.
"Blessings on you," Celina says. "It gives a form to things, if not the substance. That I will gather as time permits." She seems to treasure Lilly's spare words.
Beyond that, for Garrett, there's not much to add. He's probably not much for conversation in the water. Lilly looks uncomfortable and frankly, Celina seems to like nakedness too much for Garrett to feel right about conversing nude with her in front of Lilly. He'll wash up, splash around a little, then get out and get dressed.
Garrett leaving the water is at least as interesting as Garrett in the water to Celina. There's a Trump for Merlin to paint.
Once dressed, Garrett's servant instincts take over. He resumes his horse-grooming, which probably takes him as long as it takes the rest of the group to get out of the water and settle in for the night.
Folly stays in the water long enough for a very pleasant soak and amiable chat with her companions. She remains about arm's-length from Martin as if drawn there by some invisible force, though they only occasionally touch one another, and then only decorously.
When they emerge from the water, after they have dressed, Folly draws Martin aside for a brief private talk. If anyone strays close enough to listen, they may overhear her apologizing earnestly for not having been able to tell him about Garrett.
And anyone close enough to overhear that will also hear Martin telling Folly it's OK, that he understands completely, that she did the right thing. If this doesn't seem to satisfy Folly, it's not because of any lack of earnestness on his part.
Last modified: 14 January 2004