Lost In Arden

Folly continues to keep her promise to check in on Kina while Jerod is away. Soon after the report of the Bellum path's collapse, she strikes up a conversation with Kina's handlers.

"Y'know, I've heard stories of animals that were able to find their people under amazing circumstances. D'you think Kina would be able to find Jerod, if he were someplace she could fly to?"

"He might, Lady Folly, if he were somewhere she could fly. Now if he were lost in Arden somewhere, sure. But he's lost at sea, Lady, and she can't fly all the way to Bellum." The handler looks glum.

Folly looks thoughtful for a moment. "No, of course not, but.... Well, with all the navigation problems since the Sundering, it almost wouldn't surprise me if Jerod's ended up somewhere as unexpected as Arden.

"That does bring up another interesting possibility, though. I'm sure you've met my cousin Brita, the Ranger? She mentioned at dinner the other night that she's got a three-man patrol lost somewhere deep in Arden. Perhaps -- if we could figure out the right set of signals so that Kina'd know what to look for, and the patrol'd know she was sent for them to follow -- she'd be able to find them and lead them out again.

"And, y'know, even though I know it's a crazy idea with almost no chance of success, I'm still tempted to try sending her to look for Jerod, if it wouldn't stress her out too much. What could it hurt?"

"Kina could get lost at sea and drown," the handler says. "But if you talk to Lady Brita, maybe she could use Kina to find her Rangers. They say the Rangers can do strange things with birds and hounds and such."

"I've heard that, too," says Folly, "and I think Brita in particular is quite well-attuned to the ways of animals. I'll definitely talk to her about using Kina in their search."

With that, she thanks the handler for his help, bids him a good day, and sets off to draft a note to Brita.

A few days after Brita's trip to the castle to tell her cousins about the missing patrol, a messenger arrives in Arden and presents her with a scroll. The message therein is written in the sort of fluid, angular handwriting that doesn't quite coalesce into words until you've stared at it for a minute or two. It's from Folly.

***
Cousin Brita -

Have you been hawking with Jerod? His bird Kina is quite sharp -- her handler says she could find someone lost in Arden. Your men may've stumbled somewhere she can't follow, but then again some animals can see things we can't. Worth a shot?

If you're interested, I can arrange to have her brought out to you.

Folly
***

The messenger stands by, awaiting instructions.

Brita writes a quick note back to Folly.

***
Excellent idea, Folly! I'm sure Kina would like the exercise if nothing else. Perhaps Martin can bring her out when he comes?

Thanks,
Brita
***

[There are two small symbols before Brita's signature. One is a sun and the other looks something like a dragon]

Martin will indeed do so.

Martin heads out of the city to meet Brita to explore the forest of Arden with Kina on his arm, per Folly's suggestion. He meets Brita at the nearest Ranger enclave, as arranged, and the two of them head out into the deeps.

Martin is good company; he has a store of interesting stories from his days as a child in Rebma, a wanderer in Shadow and a number of others about the elders that he apparently heard from his father or Llewella or Benedict to pass the time. He is generally quite easygoing, although there are some questions which he will gently but firmly refuse to answer. His manners towards Brita are almost archaically courteous until and unless she makes it clear that she prefers to be treated differently. Despite this, he is not flirtatious with her.

Brita accepts his courtesy as it is and shows no signs of expecting anything else. She appears rather distracted, although she responds appropriately to his stories and asks questions about the elders in terms of: "What is Benedict like? What was your favorite shadow?"

Martin's answers are long enough to be courteous but not long enough to be boring.

Martin has some experience flying hawks, although he confesses that he hasn't flown them regularly since he was a youth staying with Uncle Benedict. Kina hunts and circles from his arm while he and Brita travel every day. In the evenings, Martin likes to spar. Brita finds that her swift draw is her major advantage against him; his untiring endurance is his major advantage against her. Otherwise, they are even.

After an early bout, Martin asks Brita about her sword training. Benedict was his swordmaster as a youth, Martin explains, and seems to have done a good job in shaping him up, although he has only moderate talent for the blade.

"My father, Vidar, taught me initially and Master Ngyen gave me some additional pointers, although he mainly taught me hand-to-hand techniques."

The two of you talk about sword technique for a while. Martin is more about practice than theory.

Brita thinks that Martin wouldn't have made a bad Ranger under different circumstances.

...and she tells Martin so.

Martin looks surprised. "Thanks," he says.

The two travel along the circuit path that Bay, Thorn, and Sticks were supposed to be following. They find traces of daily campsites at the expected places. A couple of weeks out, which is about halfway through the circuit, Martin lets Kina fly, and she does not return. When she has not come back by the latter part of the afternoon, Martin and Brita retrace their steps, but they cannot find some of the landmarks they rode by earlier.

Brita would have searched for Kina's scent or the scent of other humans along the way.

Nothing recent for humans. When Martin starts the retrace, Brita cannot smell Kina, either.

"I think we may be a little lost," says Martin.

"Wonderful." Brita says, although her tone implies vexation. "Perhaps being lost, we can find the lost patrol." she smiles a little wryly. "Do you think you can shift back to Amber? Did you feel any changes in probability or anything different today over the past few weeks?"

"It's not like that," says Martin. "But look at the color of the sky -- it's a little darker than it has been, see? And that's not storm color, either. And there's something about the trees, too." He ponders for a moment. "They're not so big as where we were before, maybe. I think we fell down the rabbit hole. I can shift and get us back, sure, but we may have lost Kina." He looks vexed too, then brightens. "But if your men went this way and fell down the rabbit hole too, we may be on the right track."

"Well, then lets keep going and see if we can find the rabbit or at least the doormouse..." Brita says as she looks at the sky and trees trying to discern the difference in the shade and shadow.

"All right then," says Martin, and the two continue following the trail that they were on before.

After several more days, Brita and Martin come to a campsite. Martin and Brita both see the firepit early on and keep the horses out of the area. After inspecting the camp carefully, Brita notices there is an additional set of tracks that enters the camp from the opposite direction than the one from which she and Martin came.

What kind of tracks? (I assume the patrol was on horse back; are there signs of their horses as well?)

[GMs]
Yes. Their horses came in from the direction Brita and Martin are coming from. There is another set of horse tracks that come in from a different direction. It's not easy to tell how many people were around the little campsite, given that some time has passed, but it could be more than the three Rangers.

The departing tracks set off in another direction entirely.

Do the departing tracks look like all horses went that way? Anything odd about the tracks or different (maybe a horse is carrying its burden different - draped over the saddle)?

Neither Martin nor Brita ascertains any such thing. The tracks are not sufficiently clear for all that.

Brita turns to Martin, "The rabbit appears to have company now." She proceeds to follow the tracks out.

Martin is right with her.

Martin and Brita follow the track of the party. Sometimes the trail goes wonky or something and it gives Brita a headache to try to keep to it. Martin seems to be able to keep following the trail even when Brita cannot.

Martin is a hard rider: up and ready to move before dawn, and following the trail until the last rays of sunlight are out of the sky. Brita thinks she and Martin are making good time.

She is pleased enough by this to note to Martin, "Your dilligence is paying off. I can almost smell the rabbit, now...."

Martin looks cross, but not at Brita. "Look at the color of the sky. I think we're back in Arden, but maybe further south and east. We've been running around in a fu- flaming circle!"

Brita grins at the change in wording. "Circles aren't too bad. At least we're not officially 'lost' any more...."

It is four days later when Martin and Brita arrive at another campsite. This campsite must have had several other people who rode in from a different direction from the trail Martin and Brita are now following.

"What do you think?" Martin asks Brita.

[Brita]
[how fresh is the campsite? how many are we talking now compared to the original party of four?]

[GMs]
Maybe a day or two old. It's hard to tell how many more people from the camp. Could be just a couple, or could be four or five extra.

"Well," Brita says as she surveys the campsite, "our lost patrol is becoming very popular. Interesting that we haven't met anyone along the way. I say we continue to press."

"I agree," says Martin. "Keep your blade loose in your scabbard, too. If we've got someone or something moving through Shadow, we may be dealing with something from Chaos wearing your men like a glove. Something about this doesn't feel right, and I don't like it."

Brita will ride with her sword across her legs, one hand on the hilt. She is not thrilled with the thought of anyone using her Rangers.

Ossian's rehearsals with Sandra and Maunder go very well, and they expect the concert to go brilliantly. Barenthkov's piece, Sandra confesses, is technically very good, but she doesn't care much for it; she hasn't the heart for it. She obviously feels very bad about saying so, too.

On the evening of the concert, everyone arrives at the Baron's home: Lucas and Solace, Worth and Paige, Folly and Ever, Reid, Cambina, Vere, and Vialle. (Martin and Brita are absent in Arden.) A number of other community notables, such as Felicity, are present, as are many of the members of the Pack.

The Baron's home is, as mentioned before, a rambling mansion, reeking of genteel poverty. The dining room chairs on which you all sit are quite threadbare; refreshments are served on antique trays, from exquisite but chipped plates, though the food is not quite what one might have hoped. Lucas thinks the wine is a touch off, too, but he's the only one who seems to notice.

The performances are all excellent. Sandra is in rare form; she sings with amazing verve and brings life to each of the pieces. It's reasonably clear to everyone why Barenthkov spotted her in the first place. Barenthkov accompanies her on his new composition on the Baron's harpsichord, to much applause. The finale -- her duet with Ossian -- is heartbreakingly beautiful, and brings the audience to its feet.

Afterwards, Felicity approaches the royals one or two at a time and invites them for a midnight supper. Vialle and Cambina accept. [What about the rest of you?]

Ossian joins. Are Maunder, Barenthkov and Sandra also invited?

Reid's in, and asks if Maunder is invited. (How did he play, by the way?)

He played brilliantly. Felicity has invited him separately (he was with the performers, and Sandra will also be attending.) (Barethkov too.).

Vere accepts, and takes her hand briefly. "I have never had a chance," he says, "To thank you for everything you did for my Sister. I deeply regret that I was not able to know her when we were both younger. If you would be willing, some day I would like to hear about her childhood. I want to have a better understanding of her by the time she returns."

Paige and Worth will be happy to join them...

Folly thanks Felicity earnestly for her thoughtfulness, but respectfully declines on the grounds that she already has other plans. A few minutes later, having praised and thanked the performers and the Baron for an excellent show, she and Ever quietly slip out and head for a pub to talk about music.

Ossian encourages Sandra, Maunder and Barenthkov to join the dinner.

"You were all excellent tonight; this will stay in peoples' memories long as an example of good music."

"dear Sandra, may I escort you to Lady Felicity?"

Sandra is pleased to come with Ossian.

When Barenthkov is out of hearing range Ossian tells her: "I think you rendering of Barenthkov's piece was really good, even if you think it was not your kind."

Sandra smiles. "Thank you, Ossian. It means a lot to hear that from a fellow performer, you know." She looks down for a moment, a bit demurely. "I am fond of Barenthkov, but I enjoy the traditional works as well as the more modern ones. You are very lucky in that you can maintain your distance from both camps."

"Probably. I think the feud is not very good for the music in this city. Hopefully Follys, Reids and my presence can change things.

"The factions keep to their traditions too much. We should make them remember that although the composer chooses the motif, the musician chooses the colours."

"It's easier to do that, I would think, when you write your own music. And don't have to worry about what will happen if composers stop composing for you." Sandra looks sad.

"Perhaps when the war is over, we can have a command preformance for you Sandra," Paige suggests. "Keep both Barry and Rein out of the Castle for a while and show them how music should be made, eh?" Paige tone is slightly suggestive, but not overt.

[Ossian]
"You are talented enough that you should be able to perform the way you choose. Everyone wants you to sing their piece.

"Would you like to compose some music yourself?"

"I wouldn't know how to begin. I can read a little music, but I'm not good enough to write any," she replies.

[Ossian]
"I think I know a very good teacher, who would be willing to give you lessons, Sandra. Shall I ask her?"

"I would like that," says Sandra, and smiles at Ossian.

Those who choose to join Felicity find that she has a delightful little repast laid out for you all. But the exotic items that would have been on the menu in years gone by are no longer available, so she has made do with more locally-produced items, including little lamb skewers from the sheep-ranches north of the city. And some of you note that Felicity hasn't redecorated this year, as she has been wont to do in the past.

The next day Ossian talks with Folly about giving Sandra lessons. "I think it could be a very valuable addition to the music life in this city if she learned to write a few things herself."

As the _Amber Crier_, that vehicle of the public interest, has noted, Sir Archer's watch has been unable to catch a certain thief who has been stealing small valuables for close to a year now. There is much grumbling at the Pickled Grouse, and talk of a delegation to the Castle about the matter reaches Folly's ear.

Folly updates the council on the ongoing problem. They get the impression that she doesn't have a very high opinion of Sir Archer.

As Reid's investigation of Stout appears to be winding down, Folly talks to him about the plan she's been considering for gathering more information -- namely, try to get descriptions from some of the victims of unique or easily-identifiable objects that have been stolen and then see if they're in any of the local pawnshops. "Does that seem like a reasonable plan to you?" she asks. "Or do you have a better suggestion?"

"Unique item descriptions would be a place to start. I've made some inroads with people who might help identify such things if they're still around. Seems like a route to take." Reid agrees.

Folly will start asking around at the Pickled Grouse for descriptions of unique stolen items, preferably from more recent thefts. When she has a list of a dozen or so such items, she gives it to Reid and asks whether she should accompany him on his visits to his contacts. "I'd sort of like to meet them, 'cos it's always good to know people who know stuff, but maybe these are the sorts of conversations that are best handled one-on-one...?"

The arrival of the latest book by A Gentlewoman excites a great deal of interest in the community. As has happened with each of the previous books, book circles have formed. A group of women, as many as fifteen or twenty, band together to buy a single copy, and whichever of them is literate reads the book to the others. The women discuss things they do not understand. Occasionally, someone asks Folly what she thinks about this point or that; they expect her to know and understand what is being said at the Castle. Some people think Folly wrote the books; the idea that someone could be better educated about these matters than Folly is beyond their ken.

Folly reads the book thoroughly and makes copious notes in the margins, the better to answer their questions. Although she still finds the day-to-day mechanics of finance somewhat tedious, she has discovered that interpreting law is actually kind of interesting.

Ever reports to Folly that he is worried that Kermit may not be able to keep him on. Demand for musical instruments has slumped since the Sundering, and there simply isn't enough work to keep him and Kermit both busy. He is frightened by the prospect; luthiery is all he knows, and it is what keeps him out of the poorest class of day-laborers, or sailing in the Navy, if he is lucky enough to get a berth.

Folly is troubled at this news. "Often in times of hardship -- and I think the last few years qualify -- people turn to the arts for comfort, which puts money in musicians' pockets, which should bring business to your shop, one might suppose. I don't understand why it's not working that way. It's like everyone suddenly has less money, or something, which just doesn't make any sense. Have any of your clients said anything about their reasons for doing less business with you?"

Ever says "The regular musicians still come -- I mean Barenthkov knows Kermit's the best, right, so he won't settle for less -- but I think some of the nobles aren't having things done. Repairs, you know, and things like the harpsichords that need tuning aren't getting it so often. It's money, I think."

Lucas, opining that the lack of interest in musical interest cannot bode well in terms of city morale, will purchase a lute, and begin taking lessons from one of the musicians in the city. He'll encourage his supporters to do the same.

Reid, too, will step up his attempts at driving business their way. It starts with a complete overhaul of his existing instrument arsenal, one at a time, starting with minor things like a bridge setup, and continuing to more major undertakings such as re-fretting or refinishing some of the older instruments he's picked up here and there. He also, based on availability and workload, starts commissioning new instruments built semi-regularly, to the point that it seems there is never a time when one of his instruments, old or yet to be born, is not in the shop.

[The influx of business driven by Reid and Lucas alleviates the situation, at least for the time being.]

Heap's shop continues to prosper. With the money he made from _The Garden of Fair Flowers_, he puts out another "quality book": a collection of plays, including The Tragical History of Eric, King of Amber, author unknown*. _The Massacre at Avalon_ and _Moins, Queen of Rebma_, both by the notorious playwright and Thrush-Packer Kit, are also included.

*[See this for more about the play.]

It is perhaps three weeks after _A Collection of Historical Plays of Amber_ comes out that people notice that the broadsheets have become harder to find.

At the next family gathering Reid mentions that he believes he has enough evidence to charge Stout with the arson of Heap's shop. He'd like to verify that no family members want to intervene on Stout's behalf before taking the matter to the officials.

Lucas has no problem with it, and commends you for being so civic minded.

Vere shakes his head. "If there is sufficient evidence that the man is guilty of the crime I know of no extenuating circumstances which would indicate we should circumvent the normal legal procedures."

"If Stout had a patron, I could see it being the difference between coming down on him like load of bricks or slapping him on the wrist." Reid shrugs. "We all have friends. Well, ok, MOST of us have friends. And I'm sure we tend to look out for them. I just want to determine if anyone present is explicitly looking out for Stout before this moves forward."

"Nope," says Folly. "If he's bullying his competitors, he needs to be dealt with."

A couple of days after the attack on Drudge Vere goes by his printshop and asks if he has yet returned to work, or whether he is still at home recovering from the attack. Either way, he pays close attention to the workers in the printshop to get a feel for their attitudes, whether they are concerned for Drudge, worried about their own safety, etc. If Drudge is at work Vere will ask to speak with him in his office, if he's not he'll instruct one of the workmen to escort him to Drudge's home.

Drudge lives alone, but he is now staying with one of his pressmen. The pressman takes Vere to his home, where his wife is caring for Drudge. Drudge has been badly beaten -- mostly bruises, but he probably also has cracked ribs, and maybe a mild concussion.

He will inquire after Drudge's health, express shock at the brazenness of the attack, and cluck his tongue over Sir Archer's inability to find the culprit. He presents Drudge with a bottle of the whiskey he had enjoyed during their dinner at the Naval. "This should ease the pain," he says with a smile.

He becomes grave then, and says, "I understand that you can not recall who attacked you. This is most distressing, since it means the culprit still runs free in the streets of Amber. Have you no thoughts as to why someone would do such a thing?"

"No," says Drudge. "I mean, who would actually consider beating someone up over the contents of a broadsheet? And it's not like I do anything else."

He opens the bottle of whiskey and everyone has a wee dram, including Vere if he wants one.

Vere does, and becomes quite companionable, asking many technical questions about exactly how the presses work, and expressing interest in the minutia of the printing trade. He will guide this conversation into a broader discussion of the current state of the business in Amber, and lead Drudge and his pressman into talking about Heap and Stout. Vere will probe them, subtly, for their opinions on the two men.

Drudge is happy to talk about the details of the printing business, and soon Vere knows more than he may want to about how his precious books were made. Drudge speaks quite a bit about the economics of the broadsheet and how costs and prices make it a very thin living. Ink and paper costs have been up of late, for instance.

Nope, there's no such thing as more than Vere wants to know about anything. Lady Vesper could no doubt testify to that after one of Vere's informative visits.

As for Heap and Stout, Drudge thinks the latter is a preening opportunist and the former a snivelling coward, although he phrases it a bit more politely. Stout won't publish a broadsheet because it might offend some of his well-off customers and he hopes for social advancement. Heap is scared of anything that moves, so he'll print anything. Where he got the money to print that book of, er, woodcuts is certainly beyond Drudge.

How very interesting. All right, Vere will thank Drudge for a fascinating conversation, tell him to take care, and instruct him firmly to contact Vere if there are any future incidents that make him think the attack was anything more than a singular incident.

Vere then goes to the Naval, and asks M for three men for another special assignment. Shrike and his companions would be perfect, if they survived the last mission....

Vere gives the men the following instructions: They are to go to Heap's office, where one will loiter discretely outside while the other two go in, tell Heap he is wanted by Vere, and escort him immediately to Vere's office. No delays, no excuses. Once they leave, the remaining man will watch to see if one of Heap's assistants leaves the office, and if so follow him and report back to Vere as to where he went.

Heap is to be hustled to Vere's office without any explanation, where he will then wait in the outer chamber under guard for an hour and a half. At the end of that time he is to be shown in to Vere's office, where Vere will be reading some reports. Vere will ignore Heap for 15 minutes or until he says something.

Heap sits in the corner, saying nothing, looking some cross between glum and terrified. He does not speak until and unless spoken to.

After 15 minutes Vere glances up, says, "Oh, Heap, you were able to make it. I'm so glad." He stands, and with a friendly smile walks over to Heap. He shakes Heap's hand, lifts him from his chair by the arm and leads him over to a chair in front of the desk. As they walk Vere says, with a friendly smile, "I hope everything is going well for you, Heap. Business good? Your health, how is it? No problems bothering you, I hope?" He puts Heap into the chair, walks around and sits down behind the desk, and continues smiling at Heap.

It is probably good that Vere walks Heap to the chair in front of the desk, because Heap might not make it there otherwise. Heap answers the mild pleasantries monosyllabically, sounding very frightened.

Vere thinks he better tread carefully or Heap might faint.

"Would you like something to drink, Heap? Here, let me get you something." Vere walks over to the sideboard and pours a large glass of whiskey. He sets it down on the table in front of Heap, pats him on the shoulder, and returns to his seat.

Heap eyes the glass before picking it up and having a fortifying sip.

He looks at Heap silently for a minute, then says, "I wanted to see how you were doing because there have been so many unfortunate accidents in the printing trade recently. It seems to be a terribly dangerous business. You are doing very well in it, and I want to be sure nothing happens to you. I have taken a liking to you, Heap, and I want to help you. I hope that you and I can be friends. I am sure that we shall be." He nods and regards Heap with friendly interest.

"O-of course, Lord Vere," says Heap. "How may I serve you?" The question has something of a desperate edge to it.

"No, no," says Vere, "I am more concerned about how I can help you. We are all very concerned about you, you know. You have gotten in over your head, and now you must be very concerned about what is going to happen. I am sure it must worry you." Vere looks extremely sympathetic. "I have done my best to explain to my Cousins, and, of course..." pause, "...to my Father..." pause, "...that you should not be held responsible, and should not suffer when we act. After all," Vere's voice becomes very encouraging, "You were not exactly free to refuse, were you?"

"Free to refuse what?" Heap almost cries.

"Now, Heap," Vere says sternly, "I cannot protect you if you are not honest with me. If you will simply explain how everything occurred I am certain that together we will be able to find a way for you to come out of this safely." He leans forward, holding Heap's gaze with his own, "Tell me everything, Heap, it is the only way."

"I -- I don't know much. She came to me the first time with the book! All the other times, she has just sent her messenger! I didn't mean to start all this trouble, Lord Vere, I didn't, but what can I do when a Princess comes to me with a request! Of course I printed it! I printed them all and I paid her! But how could I turn her away?"

Heap breaks down into sobs. "The Regent is angry now, isn't he? Protect me, Lord Vere, I beg you. I don't want to die!"

"There, there, Heap, I will help you. I understand that it isn't your fault." Vere gets up and walks around the desk, leans against it and pats Heap comfortingly on the shoulder. "We shall work this out." Vere snaps his fingers as though he had just had a sudden thought. "Perhaps we can find someone else to blame. Her messenger, perhaps? Tell me about him."

Heap sobs a little longer, and between them describes the messenger, who turns out to be an overweight fellow of middling height with a slight limp. Alas, Heap has no name to offer Lord Vere. Nor does the messenger arrive on an expected schedule. Only when he is bringing some money -- as he did to help rebuild the shop -- and when he brings a manuscript.

Vere soothes him, assures him that everything will be all right ("As long as you trust me and are honest with me, Heap"), and makes sure he has an accurate and complete description of the messenger. Then he has the men escort Heap back to his shop. He will wait for the third man to report back, and then go by Sir Archer's office, where he will describe the man to Sir Archer and ask if he sounds familiar. Then to the Naval to give the description to M and ask the same thing.

Sir Archer doesn't know the man, but he'll have his people look out for him if Vere wishes.

"Thank you, Sir Archer. I would very much like to have a conversation with him."

M says he thinks he might have an idea about the man, and wants to know why Vere wants to know.

"The man represented himself as being a messenger for my Sister, when as far as I can tell he is no such thing. This clearly cannot be allowed. He is involved in the entire Heap-Stout-Drudge foolishness, and his misrepresentation drags the Family into it. I want to know who he is working for, why this situation has occurred, and why my Sister was used as a cover. And I intend to send a message that the Royal Family are not to be casually used as a blind for someone's actions." Vere smiles. "It should be understood that we are dangerous, and that trying to manipulate us is not the action of a prudent individual."

Vere can sense M's unspoken approval of his line of thought.

"I'll have my people look out for him, and I'll notify you when we've caught him. This should be interesting."

"Thank, you." Vere says. He pauses for a second. "I had another question as well. Have there been any reports that have come to your attention regarding missing items or personnel? There have been such reports within the city, and I am concerned that the phenomenon may be more widespread than we currently believe."

"The only people we're missing," says M, "are the sort that occasionally turn up in the bottom of the harbor. I presume you mean something else. What should I be on the lookout for in that regard?"

"If I knew exactly," Vere replies, "The Family would not be quite so concerned." He makes a vague gesture with his right hand, "Some of us believe that there is some sort of odd entropic effect taking place, and that objects, and perhaps even people, are simply vanishing. Other members of the Family believe that there is no real evidence for this, and that it is pure paranoia. I am in the former camp, but without firm evidence. Clearly, we are all concerned about keeping these suspicions under wraps, there is no benefit to alarming the populace about something that may or may not actually exist. Further evidence for or against the possibility would be very welcome, however."

From his reaction, M is closer to the latter camp, but he says only, "We'll be on the lookout for anything unusual, then."

When and if this comes before the Council, Paige will voice that she's very sure that Solange didn't write the later volumes, just the first. This messanger is definitely their only link. "With our luck, he's fallen down the fissure."

[GMs]
[Reminder: Solange admitted to the council that she wrote the first but not the sequel. The books have continued to come out since Solange left Amber with Jerod.]

[Vere]
That night at dinner he will tell everyone what he has discovered, and ask if this means anything to anyone.

"No," says Folly. "Does this mean we've got someone out there who has decided to make Heap's press the mouthpiece of some sort of cultural revolution? Who would have the money and the inclination -- besides us, I mean? Most of the people I know with money are quite happy with the status quo, thankyouverymuch, and those who most want change don't have the money or the power to effect it."

"It is very confusing," agrees Vere. "The books are designed to appear that they were written by the same person, by a very skillful literary mimic. I do not know what the intent is, but I am not happy about someone using the Family as a blind for their actions. If it is a member of the Family, of course, then that is different, but I would still like to know the reasoning behind it. If it is not a member of the family, then clearly a stern lecture is in order."

"Well, maybe," Folly says thoughtfully, "but on the other hand, it's not exactly common knowledge that your sister wrote the first book, is it? I s'pose it's possible this unknown author doesn't even know that he -- or she -- is impersonating a royal. Maybe it's just someone who liked the idea of the first book, who saw it as a step in the right direction and wanted to give a little push, but who chose to act anonymously for fear of retribution. The choice to mimic the first book's style may've been purely aesthetic; or perhaps the author didn't want ruffle feathers by calling attention to the fact that more than one person has the knowledge, intelligence, and wherewithal to write and publish such a thing. The fat cats get twitchy when they think there's a movement afoot."

Folly shrugs. "Of course, this is all just blind speculation. It's also easy to imagine that our mystery author -- or authors, come to think of it -- is impersonating a royal in order to suggest that the Crown strongly advocates this kind of social change. I'm just saying we should try to find out a little more before you whack anyone with the big lecture stick --" Folly smiles a little teasingly at Vere. "-- but of course, who is more likely than you to have your facts straight before you act?"

Vere smiles without saying anything.

Paige comments, "I've lived through the changes sugested while in Shadow, but I don't even have the knowlege to write one of those books, save maybe the most current, but that's just because it's based on the Widow Fisher case. I know Solange had an education in such things, and Martin's a head for finance, but unfortunately they're both occupied."

Paige calls for Liam, scribbles a note and asks him to deliver it to Lorring. The note asks that Lorring look into whoever accessed the law library, specifically for the Widow Fisher case. When he returns, he'll have Liam arrange a meeting with Widow Fisher for her, too. "And take the rest of the night off, you hear? Tomorrow, too."

GM Note: There is no central Law Library, just the rolls (official records) of the pleadings and the case notes kept by judges, barristers, and law students who are watching the cases. Each judge would have access to the pleadings, but since the judges make case law on the spot, and most of the rulings are based on the application of common law or Crown decrees or how closely the count matches the writ, there is no reason to consult the pleadings in 99% of cases.

Individual barristers have their own law libraries made up of cases they have argued and those they have seen argued. They often have apprentices taking case notes for a circuit. Barristers may also copy and exchange these case books, but the books (and the libraries) are by no means comprehensive. The notes on a single case may focus on a minor point of law that the writer found interesting and ignore the rest of the case.

So there is no centralized repository of knowledge to check other than the pleadings, which are almost certainly not what the author used as a resource. The best library of legal material is, of course, the Castle library, but nobody has access to it without Royal permission.

Given the additional information, how does Paige want to proceed with her investigation?

The note for Lorring will ask him to have someone look into who's ruled on a case using the Widow Fisher precedent within the last year and as with all other investigations, Paige will visit Nestor. "Have you pulled any law resources for the Family, or perhaps Viscountess Wonder, Nestor?"

"In fact, why didn't I think of it sooner... Nestor, do you know who's been writing these "Ladies' Guides"? You must've read them and you are the most knowledgable in literature in the Castle."

Last modified: 4 Jan 2002