The triton Neresis is predictably huge, but seems quicker than Hannah would have expected. His fish-tail is more like an eel than anything else, and he moves like a desert snake.
No one seems inclined to stop him or even question him, and he waits patiently until it is their turn to leave the gates. There is another triton there, and it seems to Hannah as if some communication has passed between them, but it is unclear what.
He leads her out of the city and towards an encampment, which is guarded, this time completely by tritons. The enclosure is fenced, but it seems more of a reminder than a serious boundary.
There are people inside, possibly kinsmen. They are young, and they've noticed her.
Thre triton Neresis opens the gate, and stands beside her.
Hannah steps boldly in and lets her eyes slip over the crowd of men, looking to determine their general state of health rather than seeking faces she knows.
In the Poncan dialect of Siouan, she loudly announces herself. "I am Ohanzee Hannah Le Corbeau of the Honga Clan of the Earth People of Omaha. My father is Es-ta-mah-za, who was named the eldest son of Chief Opau-tauga of Omaha and his mother was Wa-tun-na, whose father was the War Chief of Ponca, whose father was the Fire Chief of Ponca, whose father was a Holy Man of Omaha. My mothers were Hin-nu-ags-nun and Tainne and Tah-ca-wa-cipi, and my birth mother was Ysabeau of Amber. I was the Holy Man of Omaha and the Indian Office Physician until I disappeared between my clinic and Council Bluff, in the year of Christ 1903."
She doesn't even point out that she bears the Mark of Honor. It should be obvious enough in her present outfit.
"Does anyone here think they know me?"
There are many injured, although some of the injuries are disguised somewhat by being in the water. It's impossible to tell from a man's limp how badly his leg was injured when the water bears more of his weight, for instance. But the men present do not seem deliberately starved or ill-treated. This is the aftermath of war.
Several of the young men come forward; by their demeanor Hannah can tell they are concerned or troubled, perhaps ashamed. One somewhat older man moves in front of the rest to speak to Hannah. "I am Crow," he says, "and I am a leader of the Ponca who came here under Conquers Worlds. I have heard of you, Ohanzee Hannah Le Corbeau, although I do not know you myself."
The name 'Crow' rings a bell for Hannah, for all that the man himself is unknown to her.
Hannah grows a sad little smile and steps closer to Crow. "I expect a generation has flown while I came to know my mother's people. I suppose I'd have to look for you through your parents, and the rest of these - at least those who are of our Blue Earth - through their grandparents. No doubt your War Leader explained how time can change between worlds to you," she finishes, her irritation getting the better of her.
She sighs. "But first, you should take me to those who are injured and aren't recovering to let me see what I can do. If you could gather a sort of council while I'm doing that, I have an offer for the tribes here from the throne of Rebma."
Crow nods his agreement in the way of the white men, and moves off to do Hannah's bidding. Another warrior comes forward to show Hannah to where the wounded are being kept.
Most of those who have survived the battle have relatively minor injuries; there are a handful who have lost, or are likely to lose, limbs (mostly, Hannah hears, from giant sharks, who may not have been as discriminating as they might have been once their bloodlust was roused). From the injured survivors, Hannah hears many tales of men who didn't make it: speared by tritons or crushed by their muscular tails, or slain where they swam by sorcery. If she had better supplies with her, Hannah might do something for some of the men, or save a limb that's going bad, but as it is there's not much she can do. In Amber, or particularly Corwin's Paris, Hannah would have better access to the white medicine she could use to help them.
Not all the men are Ponca cousins, or from neighboring tribes. Huon clearly spent time in a number of similar shadows, including her own, to draw this force together. All of them recognize Hannah as a medicine woman of power, and respect the Mark of Honor, though.
Hannah does what little she can do, but more than anything spends some time with them, listening to the stories and fears and trying to offer some hope. Not false hope, but something worth staying alive to see. She also tries to find out where the fracture lines are among the group. Do the men still support their leaders?
As she spends time listening to the stories of the various tribes, of how they followed Conquers Worlds and his promises of rewards that would make them greater than any white man they'd ever heard of, Hannah comes to understand that many of them have lost faith. It's not that they don't support their leaders; they will still do what is needful. But they were abandoned in a strange land by a leader they'd taken as one of their own, which is a terrible betrayal to them.
It would be easy for her to take these people, make them hers by virtue of the Mark of Honor and her status as a medicine woman, and do what she would with them.
She'll take the time to treat anyone else in this 'encampment' too. It's not like these guys are going anywhere.
Once that's all gone, she sets out to find the council.
The council has gathered by the time Hannah has finished. She recognizes some of the men, who were in the encampment when she arrived, but, as it was with Arthur Elm, doesn't recognize them from her own time in her home shadow.
The early rites of greeting and welcome are managed as best as can be under the circumstances, and then it is time for Hannah to make her offer to the council.
It suddenly bothers Hannah that she doesn't know how to pass a pipe down here, or if such a thing is even possible. She rubs her hands together to ward off the feeling of emptiness.
"Cousins, I am a bridge, you see. Princess Llewella here, of Rebma, is my mother's sister. Your Conquers Worlds I have heard of as my mother's brother Huon. The Queen, Khela, is my cousin and willing to be merciful. You can swear never to take up arms against the Rebman Crown and People again, and be exiled from here with your lives and your freedom. Or if not, I suspect they will kill you." Hannah makes a sharp slashing motion with her hand to cut off anyone who tries to speak.
She continues loudly. "I do not think it a hard choice and am not much interested in having a long discussion about it. The worlds are mine to travel, as they were Huon's, but I am young and new at it, and do not believe I can get you home. I can take you to Xanadu, where there is a King looking for men willing to work hard and build his city. You would be free men. There are ships out from there that could take you to many a land does it not suit. Or you can beg the mercy of the Queen here to send you to one of their Shells."
Now she spreads her hands open to them. "Or let me hear other ideas. I will hear what you have to say."
There are many questions from the council. What manner of man is this King? What manner of woman is this Queen? What sort of place is Xanadu? Do they practice slavery there as the white men once did (a concern voiced by a man who must be Ponca kin through adoption, for his skin and hair mark him out from the looks of Hannah's cousins)?
The tenor of the question makes it clear that they're not such fools as to reject the offer. They're just figuring out where to go. The idea that they have to go somewhere that they'll be subservient to what clearly seems to them to be another bunch of white men is a bitter pill for these warriors to swallow, even beyond their own defeat.
Hannah answers the best she can, but doesn't pretend she knows a thing about Khela or if they practice slavery in Rebma or the Shells. She tries to paint a picture of the King Random she knows, and man of music and magic, and yet, also a King who seems better off not crossed. She explains, briefly, her relationship to the royal family, the strange youthful appearance of those of the blood and their 'magic' in terms Poncas would understand. She uses the stories of her mother as a White Buffalo Woman to illustrate her point. She goes on to explain the class system, as she sees it, in Xanadu.
"I have not seen any slavery, and it doesn't strike me as the sort of think King Random would want his Kingdom built on the back of. That said, I've never asked for specifics on the issue. I don't know about indentured servitude either. It seems more a possibility, so if that is where we decide to go let us form a council of the wise to review any agreements one might make before he signs them, yes? It is a young place, and the law is the law of the King, and some of that will be decided as it comes up. I'd encourage each man to use his best wisdom to protect his interests, so you don't end up having to take a mess to the King.
"And in truth, it isn't that he's a white man. There seems to be no consenus in the royal family as to whether they are men at all, or perhaps something different. Nonetheless, he is the ultimate authority - and it is not like a Chief. You can never vote him out of his authority. He is the Land, like the old stories. And you'd have to swear your loyalty to him. There is no question is would be a much different life than you've known. Yet it could be a very good life. Men who will work hard will be early in Xanadu and able to find real prosperity." Hannah smiles at them, and shrugs.
"Do you have more questions, or should I leave you to discuss this?" she asks.
Crow acts as spokesman for the council. "We will take counsel among ourselves, Ohanzee, if there is time for it. When does the Queen of Rebma require an answer?"
Hannah can tell they are minded to take the offer and go to Xanadu, but there will need to be some debate to convince the reluctant among their numbers.
"The Queen did not give me a deadline, but I do have patients and duties I must return to soon. I cannot stay for a week of discussions, so I encourage everyone to be frank with one another right up front. I do imagine the Queen would like to see this camp cleared very soon." Hannah's lips thin.
"I'll go back and visit around with the sick for awhile. If this goes until tomorrow, I will come back to check on you. One last question. Crow - do you have a brother called Horsehide?"
Crow looks startled for a moment, and if she didn't have his absolute attention before--which she's pretty certain she did--Hannah does now. "I do, Ohanzee. Is there a message from the spirit world for him?"
He isn't the only man of the council with an interest in this question. Hannah knows they already believed in her power, not least because they'd seen the powerful medicine Huon had used in his guise of Conquers Worlds, but this is different and specific to their own people, even above and beyond Huon's adoption into the Hethuska society. She had described herself as a bridge earlier, but in this, they accept her as a trueborn Ponca.
"There is someone who stood at the Gateway and looked for his return. Is he here?"
"I will have him brought to you while the council deliberates." Crow gives her a respectful gesture and sends someone to fetch Horsehide.
A few minutes later, a youth brings Horsehide to meet Hannah. He's older than Crow, but Hannah can see that he suffered some injury at some point in his life that made him less able; there's something a little off about his gait. This may be why his brother outstripped him and is of the council while he sits aside now.
Horsehide offers Hannah a respectful greeting, and lets her choose the pacing of the delivery of the message, as befits an honored Medicine Woman.
"I met a woman called Returning Moon in the spirit realm. She was looking for a sign of your return. Do you know this woman?" Hannah asks him quietly.
Horsehide's eyes grow very wide. "I do know her. What word is there? Is she well? Has she married another warrior?" Other than the shock the of the news, his expression is guarded, stoic. Clearly he does not, or will not allow himself to, expect good news.
She smiles softly. "Did your War Leader explain how the flow of time can change across shadows? She was well when I left her. She gave me food and shelter. She was out looking for you, forcing herself through the danger of a spirit walk in the hope of some sign. She was not happy you had gone, and it had been some time already then, but there was no trace of another man in her home, no.
"I do not know how long it has been, and I do not even know that I could ever find that place again, Horsehide. I felt bound to tell you I had talked to her due to the hospitality she showed me," Hannah ends sadly, with a shrug, and a consoling hand for his arm.
"I do not think any of you made the decision to go lightly, but I do begin to wonder if you were not misled after all."
Horsehide is again quiet for a few moments as he considers Hannah's words, absorbing the news, the momentary hope and then the necessary abandonment of it. Hannah can feel it all in the tense muscles of his arm. "I thank you for your news, Ohanzee." He pauses for a moment before asking a question, not of Returning Moon, but of Huon. "Why do you say we may have been misled?"
"I am just curious what," she clears her throat unhappily, and says with a touch of sarcasm, "Conquers Worlds told you all before you agreed to go with him. Did he explain that everyone at home might age and die while you all stayed young?"
There's a headshake in the negative to the question. "He said that time would pass, but he did not say as much as that. But, in truth, it was not the words of how long we heard, but the promises of spoils and goods. Who would think if he promised wealth enough to marry that he meant the daughters or grand-daughters of the women we knew?"
Hannah smiles sadly at this. "I can't cast any blame on the lot of you for trying. Even if I think it was foolish, I know where you came from to be drawn to it. Hell, I followed a Unicorn, who offered me nothing, so at least y'all had a better reason than curiosity."
She offers him a comforting hug.
Horsehide accepts and returns the hug, if a bit stiffly so. "I am sorry for your troubles, Ohanzee. As you say, we have earned our fate through our folly. We listened to sweet words when we should have listened for the bitter lies underneath. We thought because he honored the ways of our people, we might trust him. But he spoke with a white man's tongue all the same."
Hannah nods. "Well, it is past. You should have hope for the future, because I hope to take you all to a place full of hope and opportunity.
"What have you been doing here in this camp? Would you like to come with me to sit and talk to those who are in pain?" she asks.
"I would." There's a stiff smile from Horsehide. "And while we walk I will tell you of how things have been in this camp, and of Ponca cousins and Omaha cousins from strange worlds, and of the worlds we have walked through, and other things."
Hannah is able to spend some time with the wounded, easing their pain and comforting them as best she can with the supplies she was able to obtain and their simple knowledge that she has come to listen to them. She hears many stories, some that she suspects will be tragic when the warriors realize how much time they've lost in the transition. Horsehide seems to be taking his role as Hannah's guide as something of a penance.
Horsehide's tales seem to be of near shadows to her home. It sounds to Hannah as though Huon made his way through several similar shadows and collected the warriors from the lot of them. They worked with warriors from other kinds of shadows, with different levels of technology. Horsehide talks about the guns and cannons used by the men recruited from someplace called Abford with mildly derisive amusement that turns serious when he talks about the injuries from cannon failures.
After perhaps two or three hours have passed, the council sends for Hannah to say that their deliberations are complete. Horsehide escorts her back to them. After some consideration, they have agreed, unsurprisingly, to go to Xanadu. Will Hannah take word of their decisions back to the Queen, and then lead them to Xanadu after they have sworn not to take up arms against Rebma again?
She agrees to do so. "I want to be certain livable accommodations are in place as we make this transition, so it may not be as quick as everyone will like. I did not assume you would agree to this path, so I did not prepare anything. I will figure it out." She waves her hand with a little smile.
"How hard can it be?" Hannah rolls her eyes in good humor. "How many of you are there, exactly?"
"Of the Ponca and Omaha from our lands, wikcemna sakpe* [*60], if no more have died. Perhaps twice that many and then a few more from places like our own, but different, with their own societies of warriors. Only the elite were asked to join and train the men Conquers Worlds had already recruited," Crow explains. This number jibes with Hannah's observations, which would put the number of surviving warriors of all shadows about about 150, and makes sense of a council of 10 from all branches.
Hannah nods. "Let me go talk to the queen, and make some other contacts." She shakes hands all around and offers them reassuring words. "I will be back as soon as I can."
Celina sketches a brief summary of her discussion with M'reisi for Khela as they both change clothes after the Court.
"I'll never get tired of watching you take your clothes off, starfish. Between you and court, I feel positively sharklike."
[Celina] admits that committing to making new routes is a bigger task than she expected to be planning at the moment, but points out that this kind of Information will force Gateway to see that their position is not only untenable, but shortly to be historical unless they 'empty the storm chest'.
[Seaward: "storm chest" kept with emergency supplies to safe a family if the house starts to fall around you]
"Do we even want allies that think that highly of themselves and so little of us?" She doesn't expect Khela to answer. "I'd rather paint the roads around them and watch them slowly become mundane than enter the Shadow and change the Regime."
Khela nods. "Our Uncle wants to teach them a lesson. I suspect he has given no thought as to the lesson that causes us as their trading partner.
"Do it. We only need partners who help us, not who attack our friends and help our enemies."
Celina nods. She takes the 'blank license' to also mean she'll be the one to worry about other Family efforts to keep Gateway connected and whole. So be it.
Celina lets her Queen know that Loreena is next on her list of 'must dos'. She'll be off to speak to Loreena and escort to her family quarters even if there is no one to formally receive her back "into society". But in this Celina asks, "What is the status you want from Loreena? She's a Loyalist, obviously, and that won't change if for no other reason than she'll always think you and I are bloody traitors. Her parole to me is personal, but that doesn't mean I can't open some sort of conversation with her about 'official manners'. Have you thoughts to share?" She grins, "Or would you rather speak on that after I've gotten a face full of toxin and report back?"
"You're been doing an excellent job making me look merciful and just, so I'm willing to let you swim with it. She's not invited home with you, though. See what kind of deal she'll make, if any. I'm pretty easy." Khela grins. "But you knew that."
"Loreena won't think either of us merciful. Too many deaths."
Khela says, "I care less about what she thinks than what she does. I do not want her love."
Celina shrugs into a draped shawl of beads rather than putting on anything street casual. Her ink colored tanga is somewhat sheer. Except for the knife in her red Parisian boot, she's more naked than she was at court. It is a choice, of course. Let strange styles and colors come to Rebma and celebrate change.
A rushed kiss with Khela and she is off through the palace. Asking at several points, she finds word of Orseas and makes a squid-line for his current haunts. Loreena and Celina could use a witness to their pointed conversations. And Celina understands that her own temper comes up fast when Loreena starts jabbing her in heart and eyes.
Orseas will be a reminder that things are going to change. For both of them.
Celina finds him near the coral gardens in the family section of the palace. He is scarred, with obvious fresh injury on right side, shoulder and ear. A large shark has played havoc with him and she smothers a hot reaction that all Gatwegian sorcerers should have their right ears chewed off.
She holds firm and doesn't try to offer tender solace. At ten times her weight and twice her preternatural strength, Orseas doesn't need sistering 'nurse play'. Instead, she hugs him and says, "It is so good to see you. Will you come with me and resume being my guardian? My road is going to be hard and long."
Orseas nods, and a moment later says "I will." He seems to be making an effort to remember to speak.
"I am honored by your oath resumed," Celina says and wonders about the subdued joy in her voice. Impulsively she kisses the back of his hand as if thanking a knight for safe return to Court.
And she feels more alone than before once she meets his eyes again.
She releases his hand and says a few words about her agenda. Orseas nods to her question about Loreena's ransom quarters and they are off through the palace. They enter a newer section, far from the Family precincts. It is the 'trade delegation' precinct of the palace, with better security and more elaborate suites that include some concessions to surface visitors. Celina finds Loreena has been given one of the three royals chambers with adjoining rooms and high privacy. No one enters these passages except a delegation connected with the visiting monarch or ambassador. She nods.
She does not look at the guards she passes and they do not question her.
At the fanciful chamber door of solid brass, she takes the small trident from the door frame holder and scratches down the surface of the kelp forest in relief. She restores the trident to its place. Loreena may not have servants or attendants and so she expects the door might not be answered with any haste. "Orseas, do Tritons love?"
He pauses, and thinks. "I do not know how to answer you. Even if I knew what I meant by that word, I am not sure what you mean by it. Our nature is not as yours."
"Love is to care about another person so much that you are pained when they are not there, or they suffer, or you feel much less yourself," Celina tries.
Orseas hesitates. "There are stories of those who have done things that did not benefit themselves and were not within the scope of their duty. It is rarer, I think, in my race than in yours. Most Tritons have enough to concern them doing that which they must to do that which they will.
"No, most of us, then do not. What you describe sounds like duty, and we have duty to our Mother, and do not choose it."
Celina is reaching for the door trident to scratch again when Orseas adds the last. She lays hand upon the device in its holder and pauses. 'Duty'? When bound to perform by respect for self and promises to other is that love? Does she love Random? Does she love Llewella? Does she love Rebma? Or is she bound to them by understanding what Martin said....'you cannot hide, it doesn't work'... and so she must pledge and be predictable so they can all flourish. Could that sort of survival need be a basis of love? Or is Duty a substitute when you cannot love?
If I want to flourish, I must love myself. Celina winces as she realizes her upbringing generates such anger and turmoil because she was not allowed to know herself. How can you really love when you do not know who you are? As an orphan, I had only Duty. Which means, with Khela, I had only sex. I did not know what I was doing. She looks at Orseas. "Love is rare everywhere."
She releases the trident door-scratch and opens the door instead. "Loreena? We need to talk." Celina enters the suite.
Loreena rises when Celina comes in. "The Lady of the Queen's Bedchamber. How kind of you to visit me in my new, lowered state."
Her bow is exceedingly correct.
"You have the blood of queens," Celina responds. "If someone thinks your state lowered, I believe they are misinformed. Perhaps you will enjoy this period of confusion and see who respects you for who you are and not for who they think you are." She bows in turn to Loreena as a peer.
Celina makes formality of the next. "Having your oath of parole has been my honor, You are safely back in the Pearl of Cities. By the Justice of the Sapphire Throne and my responsibility to it, I commend you to your family and estates and thank you for your honored pledge."
[Loreena's] mouth lifts slightly at the mention of justice, but she is silent.
"I suppose if it suits your purposes," Celina continues taking a very casual stance, "you can use these chambers and continue to let others assume you are under parole, if you are interested in gathering intelligence for yourself. But if you want that, we need to understand something between us. I will not have you pretend to be my vassal prisoner and act in dissent. Shall we talk about the future? There is a new position at Court, the Queen's Mercy. I am that position."
Celina motions for Loreena to sit and then takes a comfortable sponge herself.
"You have not fulfilled your part of the parole, but I will accept my freedom and free you of the onerous task of protecting me from your allies. Need I ask if her gracious majesty plans to confirm me in my titles, estates, and possessions?"
Celina does not smile, even if she approves of how Loreena has not lost a meter of her snap.
[Loreena] stands, and walks to the door. "Shall we test your unconditional release? Walk with me, my treasonous aunt."
"Do we walk?" Celina holds balance with no indication she will move anywhere. "It is true I said I would deliver you to Rilsa and have not done that. I am not opposed to honoring this however and holding you here still. It could be years before we see Rilsa. I thought that a bit beyond what you had agreed to." Celina's voice holds a certain line that indicates she knows Rilsa is alive...and perhaps very far away.
"I shall walk. I will not sit in my cell for a moment more than necessary." She opens the door. "You are free to do as you please. If you are looking for suggestions, you may find it novel to die in a ditch."
She pauses and looks back. "One hopes that my newfound freedom is not a surprise to the rest of my captors. I should hate for there to be misunderstandings due to your failure to anticipate my response to my release from captivity."
"Walking is good," Celina responds, not moving. "Verily, it would be a shame for my failure to anticipate your witty response getting you maimed or crippled." She does not seem sad.
Celina moves to the doors now. "So you unconditionally accept my having discharged our arrangement to protect you from harm. Thank you. I expect you are accomplished at defending yourself so let's walk. We are so much alike, Loreena, that there is potential for understanding in our mutual nature. If you are looking for suggestions, that is." She opens the doors and proceeds.
Celina nods to Orseas, signals by hand motion that if Loreena tries to strike her, that he should not interfere.
"What sort of test, other than displaying your considerably accomplished walking prowess," Celina eyes her niece, "did you have in mind? Hoping that citizens you've treated poorly are lurking behind vases? An assassination test? A bitter looks test?" Celina centers her awareness on Loreena's TaKhi, reading her body narrative like an Uncle watching the disposition of troops on day of battle.
Loreena glides from the cell, carrying herself as if she is stepping into a ballroom. She looks every inch the Royal Princess.
"You've been welcomed, for now. It's easiest for everyone when they're all traitors together. How long do you think gratitude lasts? A year? A month? I'll see the woman whose plaything you are off the throne. How long will Celina last then?"
"Well, let's suppose it matters that gratitude lasts somewhere between a year and a month." Celina moves alongside her niece in a less studied fashion than Loreena affects, leaving her balanced to defend Loreena or herself from surprises. "What are you going to do between now and when it wears out? Ask for your titles and estates? Wouldn't you be swearing to the new queen if you wanted those privileges? Why would you do that? You won't. You will be busy moving Khela off the throne.
"Then you'll be busy with all those traitors, moving them out of the city." Celina looks at Loreena. "Moire betrayed Rebma. She left. She wasn't dragged to safety by tritons or advisors. She left. When Huon would have crushed the city and tainted the waters forever, the City had no queen."
Loreena laughs, bitterly. "And now? How many Queens are there? Khela, her mother, you? Monarchy does not derive from what you want, or what you do. It is not a thing for a place to choose, it is not a thing that can be fickle or changing. Your Khela will be like Eric. I hear the new Queen of Amber is calling his reign a regency."
Loreena reaches the stairs, and pauses. Thinking better of it, she opens a large window and steps onto the ledge.
"Grandmother saw the future, you know. You're not in it. For long, anyway. Swim with me?"
She's setting me up for the big wave. 'You're not in it.' And even knowing it, Celina smothers an internal shiver. The future. She remembers the cards as she and Folly debated the various adverse turns. Loreena's words Slice into her youth and inexperience and the shadow of her early nightmares falls upon her thoughts afresh. The poison bites hard.
"Yes," Celina suddenly realizes Loreena is going to do this whether it makes sense or not. The two of them are not living in the same Rebma. Neither the ideal city nor the vicious one really exist, despite Celina's or Loreena's words. Celina's hope for family and sisterly understanding with Loreena is doomed. Loreena is good at the Slice and always has been. Even overt offers of friendship and protection would be pointless. Just more fuel for the Slice. How best to deal with the poison?
Where is Jerod now? Pearls!! Celina kicks off the window ledge with powerful strokes, easily keeping pace with Loreena but disguising her great strength. She opens her perceptions to the multi-axis realm around her; feels the weight in the water of Orseas moving behind them. His tonnage is hard to hide. She can feel it in her ears and the soles of her feet.
The city lives and gleams below them. "Loreena, I am ready to die for Rebma. If I am not in the future, it is a measure of how much I have yet to give for this place to make it stand forever. I will not go easily." Yes, even in a ditch, if you like, my sister.
Thank Lir they are back beneath the waves. No one knows she is crying now. She can even smile.
"So brave, and so ignorant," replies Loreena, "I admire that. It's usually so short lived. In your case, literally, I expect." She looks behind her, and swims in a broad arc towards the seaward. "Do you even know who Orseas served before you came to court? No? It will be amusing to see which pieces of the puzzle you even realize exist."
That almost sounded...like sympathy. Celina paces along so well with Loreena, that the swim pattern appears something they have practiced.
The arc takes them in a nautilus pattern out from the castle, as if Loreena wishes to be seen with Celina and Orseas following.
Celina mirrors with Loreena, near as like shoulder to shoulder as they arc through thermal layers. It is an easy way to talk, hanging so close. "So enough about my doom." Celina continues with a lesser smile, "Let's talk about you. You have no momentum or gratitude from the populace. You represent the failed policies of the former queen. You are a Loyalist. What is your Duty? Who do you serve with Moire out of contact? How do you stay out of prison? How can I help?"
"Oh, threats of prison already? So far the only person I've spoken to is you, how can that possibly count as treason in this tide?" Loreena swims lower and more slowly, making sure it's quite clear to people who it is who swims above them, and who accompanies the pair.
"My position, as a loyal servant of the throne, is to be an object example of the usurper's benevolence, tolerance, and forgiveness. Assume I am in the position your Aunt was, with respect to the legitimate court."
Celina is hard pressed to know which idea is more intriguing; Loreena thinking she can play Llewella's part, or Llewella spending centuries trying to maneuver Moire off the throne.
Loreena swoops down on a quiet hilltop street of lovely, stately townhomes. She waits for a moment, looking at her aunt.
Celina lands beside Loreena. "Now you are just being mannish. Me, threaten you? Let's be more sincere." Celina shakes her head. "You've explained you will be sweeping Khela off the throne. You've pointed out I'm soon dead and gone, including the colorful notion you have of just how you prefer I die." Celina folds her arms, she's given up on talking to Loreena as someone that might be a friend some day. Loreena is exactly what she's said she is, the current Family Object Example. "So setting aside that speaking such treason to an officer of the Court is no different from doing it under Moire's laws---I offered to help you stay out of prison, if I could. Prison is the probable result of your course, if you get a better streak of luck than you've had so far in your life."
Celina adds, "Your answer suffices: your Duty is to the throne. You serve yourself. You don't want my help. Any other Court business, Lady Loreena?"
"Why, none, Lady Celina. And if any arises, I am sure you will know where you can find me."
Celina pointedly does not tell Loreena where or how to find her. "Welcome to the new Rebma." She leaves headed squid-line for the palace.
Celina has returned to the palace with Orseas and finding Khela busy, of course, informs the guards she awaits the Queen settled in one of the side chambers.
Once there, she grabs a bulb of strong drink. "Orseas," Celina asks, "when royal commands are passed to the Tritons, how is it that every Triton gets the word?" She begins to fix herself something from a cold tray. She's really hungry.
Orseas thinks on this for longer, perhaps than he might otherwise. Just when Celina thinks he may not answer, he does. "Through the temple, Lady Celina."
Celina nods. It will do. "And who carries the word to the temple? Anyone? The Queen? A senior palace triton?" She eats and plots her words to Khela.
"There are... acolytes, Lady. Like unto your pages." He pauses, then remembers again to speak. "They are for urgent matters. Things in the moment. For normal matters, we take our own messages to our temples when we return to our quarter during the evening. If we stay in the palace, we give the message to a brother."
Last modified: 12 June 2011