Corwin leads [Conner, Fletcher, and Marius] into an old-fashioned infirmary. There are several rooms with low tables/beds and a variety of medical instruments, most of which Conner and Fletcher should be familiar with. Along the way, Corwin had sent word that he was coming with an injured kinsman, so there's a nurse standing by to assist and some pages to run errands as Fletcher and Conner require.
With some help, Marius gets up on the table and strips to the waist. Conner and Fletcher can see the marks of abuse on him: he's recovering from some beatings. And, as his story suggests, he's clearly been bled from veins in both arms.
Corwin stands aside to let Fletcher and Conner examine Marius.
[Technology here is early 1900s. Any medical technology up to about 1910 is easily available, including blood transfusion, and some more modern stuff may be around. Remember you're in a Pattern place so Sorcery is very limited and Pattern manipulation is out. If you guys want to consult with each other on OOC or ask GM questions, feel free.]
Conner begins with a thorough cataloging of Marius's physical wounds. "Has your Paris developed the fluoroscope, Uncle?" Conner asks him idly. "I suspect that these physical wounds will take care of themselves with enough time but I would feel better with an X-ray to confirm it. Nurse, please prepare an IV drip of D5NS. 5% Dextrose in normal saline. I prefer to get your fluid levels up and let your bone marrow take care of the rest." Conner explains to his cousin.
A nurse moves off to follow Conner's orders.
"I don't keep a flouroscope because they're not safe. We'd recover from the damage, but there's no point in injuring Marius further to see how badly off he is," Corwin comments.
"A fair point, Majesty." Conner nods. "Still it is good to know X-rays can be generated here. When next I have a spare moment, I must speak with your scientific community about the importance of lead shielding."
"Now, let's see how you are doing metaphysically." Conner murmurs. "I am not going to do anything active, Marius. I'm just going to look and see there are any traces of sorcery or shadow magic left on you." With his disclaimer issued, Conner opens his Third Eye and proceeds to examine Marius as thoroughly as he can.
While Conner conducts a supernatural examination, Fletcher checks around the wounds and check for head trauma. "Well, you've certainly taken a beating. Has anything specifically been feeling off? On top of the fluids, I suppose you already know that food and rest are in order, especially protein. Though your metabolism could probably drink up a bit more than five percent dextrose. Do need anything for pain?" Turning to Conner, Fletcher matter-of-factly asks, "Can your hoodoo tell if they put in any implants or parasites?"
Conner does not reply right away. Concentrating on the Third Eye is difficult in Paris and he waits until he completes a portion of his analysis. "Unless they were very clever, yes." Conner murmurs.
To Conner, Pattern initiates like himself and Fletcher and particularly Corwin appear as sources of power, as if they were bright with it. This is, of course, more difficult to distinguish in a Pattern place like Paris, but still, he can distinguish an initiate from the background.
Marius' magical form has dark striations in it. They look as if they ought to be linked outwards somehow, but there are no connections that Conner can see. The closest analogy he can think of is that if the sorcerous links were hair, someone or something jerked them out down to the roots.
While Conner is looking him over, Marius answers, "It all feels off, but it has since my mother died."
Corwin winces slightly and steps out to find some painkiller.
Fletcher feels obligated to fill the awkward void with something other than a prescription for antidepressants. "I'm sorry for you loss. I never really got to know her. I got to hold her once, as a baby. Hers was not the first flame of Order to be diminished, but it is always a great loss when one of our ilk is lost."
Conner turns with a slightly incredulous look at Fletcher's comments but that is swiftly replaced by a thoughtful frown as he returns to examining Marius. "We all feel her loss, Marius." Conner murmurs. A few moments later Conner speaks up again. "Well whatever they did marks you still, Marius. No sign of anything added. Quite the reverse actually. As near as I can tell, you were sorcerously linked to something and those links were later forcibly removed. What do remember of the ritual, Marius? Any detail might help me interpret what I see."
Marius frowns with the effort of remembering. "Not much. The bleeding, of course; I don't know how much they took out of me, but it was several pints. I think I was sedated for something, some ceremonial magic. I remember waking up and thinking I must be sleeping on stone. And afterwards, I had been cut along a vein." He holds up his arm to indicate a faded line: a crosscut, meant to make Marius bleed rather than to kill him.
According to what Conner knows of the Gatwegian magical tradition, that would make sense for a ritual magic. But his magical training also tells him that many Shadow wizards might have used such a ritual space with an altar. But either sort of wizard would have to have been working with a Sorcerer--a true Sorcerer like himself--to have performed a ritual that left the kind of marks on Marius that Conner has just seen.
Turning to Fletcher again, Marius says, "Did you really hold my mother during her infancy? I think I always secretly believed she sprang from our grandfather's head full-fledged, like Athena from Zeus in the shadow legend."
Fletcher pauses, and says, "I did. It was a very... emotional time. It might have been better if she had sprung from Granddad's head. The world would be a very different place. I don't think many people would care to talk about those days. It was a time of change in Amber." Fletcher is clearly thinking about what he should say. "If you have questions I can try to answer some of them later. I haven't lived in Amber since she was a few weeks old. For now though, let's hear Conner's diagnosis."
While Fletcher is speaking, the nurse comes back in with the IV and waits for Conner's permission to insert it.
[Which the GM will not be writing in detail because she's phobic and would like to be able to continue to write this thread kthx.]
"I would like to hear about my mother later. And I think my sister might as well," Marius says, before turning back to Conner to hear his guess about what was done to him.
Fletcher ponders the possibility of enhanced healing due to proximity to the... ahem... a Pattern. He thinks that perhaps, by opening himself as a passive conduit he might amplify such effects. But the attempt would undoubtedly interfere with Conners efforts, so he waits for the sorcerer's diagnosis before suggesting anything further.
"Well it was definitely Sorcery and not some shadow magic worked upon you, Marius." Conner begins. "Those that have walked the Pattern practically glow with light to my enhanced vision. Your aura is banded almost as though part of your Pattern nature was taken along with the blood." Conner sighs and rises up from Marius. "The ritual you describe is certainly consistent with Gatewegian magical traditions but not exclusively so. Blood magic is fairly ubiquitous in shadow." Conner shrugs. "Brennan has already spoken of the construct of blood that was linked to Huon and bore his wounds for him. The marks upon you would fit the hypothesis that this construct was made from your blood but I cannot say for certain that is what they did. I did not witness the blood being directly." Conner pauses for a moment. "But I did study the links radiating from the battlefield to the Pattern Chamber." Conner focuses on Marius one more time to scrutinize where the links once were to see if he can match them to what he remembered on the battlefield.
Conner can't be positive, but this could be part of the same Sorcerous nexus that linked Huon and the blood creature. It would explain why Marius has some injuries that don't make sense if he'd just been used as a blood bank, too.
"Yes. In the absence of any other big blood sorceries turning up, I would guess that it was your blood used for that purpose." Conner concludes. "Huon adds to his list of atrocities to answer for and proves that he had help. Huon is no sorcerer."
It is at about this point that Corwin comes back with the requested painkillers. "I was checking on the morphine supply," he tells Conner. "I didn't think that we'd need it, but most of it is at Gerard's disposal." He offers the tray to Conner; he has several options ranging from aspirin on up.
Conner nods to his Uncle and takes the offered tray. He motions for the nurse to insert the IV into Marius and after a little questioning selects a dose of painkiller at correct intersection of relief and oblivion that Marius desires right now. Once Marius is comfortably settled, he gives the nurse instructions to keep the fluid drip going until his blood volume is restored and then be sure to have a huge meal send up once Marius wakes.
As he walks out with Fletcher and Corwin, Conner comments. "Not much to be done really. His body just needs time to recover. His spirit too I think."
[Fletcher]
"We know blood was taken. Was anything less tangible missing too, or
was he just torn up? We'll want to make sure that whatever intangible
damage there was heals properly. I may be able to help with that."
Corwin leads them down a different set of hallways from the ones that would take them back to the room where the family was assembled. Although the Louvre seems like a maze of twisty little hallways all alike to Conner and Fletcher, Corwin clearly knows where he's going.
"Yes, what did you see, Conner? And what do you have in mind, Fletcher?"
"It is easy to tell what I saw though the interpretation is not as straightforward." Conner begins. "When I look at a Pattern Initiate, they appear as bright and shining. Those with stronger ties to Patterns, such as you Majesty, are blinding. Marius has dark striations running through the brightness. They are not additions but an absence, an afterimage of the socreries used on him."
Conner pauses a moment. "This is conjecture but it best fits what I've seen. All of these striations are aligned as though they were connected to something outside Marius as if he was a battery to power something. On the battlefield outside Rebma, I witnessed such sorcerous connections linking Huon to something in the Pattern Chamber of Rebma. There in the Pattern Chamber, Brennan faced off against a construct of blood. By the accounts of battle, this blood being took the wounds that Huon should have taken. I think that construct was made from the blood taken from Marius.
"I cannot say how Marius has been affected by the ritual though." Conner admits. "These dark marks might fade over time and heal with the replenishing of his blood or it could represent some sort of persistent damage to his Pattern nature. I don't really have a precedent to compare to."
[Fletcher]
"I was thinking of a couple different explanations. One: That some of
his essential inner Pattern has been siphoned off, and used, perhaps
as energy for something. Or two: That some of his inner Pattern has
been stolen and is being kept somewhere. In the first case, it might
be possible to heal him, or 'refill' him as it were. In the second,
healing might be possible too, but we'd also want to recover what was
taken. In either case, there is the possibility that more direct
exposure to the Pattern could help, or at least speed up the healing
process. Obviously he's not in any condition to walk the Pattern.
However, if one of us were to open ourselves to then Pattern,
we might as you might say, 'brighten' our own glow enough that he
could soak up some of the Pattern more directly. Of course, if there's
room we might just have him lie down next to the Pattern itself. I'm
slightly less keen on that idea as a start, as much as I would
like to see Corwin's handiwork."
"We'll visit the Pattern chamber some other time, Fletcher, but if you want to see it before you leave, we'll arrange it. But putting Marius next to the Pattern won't help him," Corwin says, sounding confident of that, "and I'm not sure based on the description whether summoning the image of the Pattern and trying to channel it into Marius will help him either, if Conner's suspicions are correct." He purses his lips. "But it's a thought. There might be something Random or I could do, if he were willing. I can't think of any cases like this either."
The standard answer would be to refer this to the redheads, but Corwin doesn't suggest this to Conner, or to Fletcher who might not know that consulting Bleys and Fiona is the standard operating procedure these days.
Conner takes it as a given that this problem will be referred back to Mother and so does not mention it either. "I would concur, Majesty. I think it best to wait and see if Marius recovers on his own before we would employ any such methods." Conner shifts to look at Fletcher more directly. "Your point two does remind me of a disturbing possibility though. Brennan met in the Pattern Chamber is a being of Chaos termed the Eater. Most of what I've heard is second hand but it seems to have a taste for Amberite blood. It is possible that some of Marius lives on in this being. Not much to be done about that unless we can track it down again. I believe that is on Brennan's to do list when circumstances permit."
"Yeah, that's the kind of thing we should probably discourage." Fletcher says, adding, "Well, at any rate are you sure he's free of any leftover magicks? If proximity to the Pattern isn't a factor then you might want to take him into shadow where there are some better tissue regeneration techniques available. I'm afraid my commitments to Random preclude me going with, but I'll offer whatever advice I can."
"There is no active sorcery on Marius." Conner confirms. "Even if there had been been any when he left Gateway, being in a Pattern realm would have swiftly unraveled them. I'll leave it to Marius to decide if he wishes to seek swifter healing elsewhere." Conner replies. "As he was able to shift shadow from Gateway to Amber, I suspect he won't need too long to recover physically."
"My experience jibes with Conner's," Corwin says, stopping at a door and opening it to usher his nephews through.
The room appears to be some kind of parlor that Corwin uses as an office, with a secretary for his papers and some seating for informal chats. Also, perhaps most importantly, there's a sideboard with decanters of whiskey and, presumably, crystal behind the closed doors underneath for them all to enjoy.
"What he probably needs is rest and good food. The sorts of injuries you could best use tech for--like Gerard's--are the ones we worry most about it doing the worst for. Soft tissue injury grows back on its own." Corwin moves to the sideboard and looks inquiringly at Conner and Fletcher.
[Fletcher]
"Indeed. It's more a question of whether or not one
can afford the time. I'm not familiar with Gerard's case, of course,
but I can say that there are techniques for tissue re-assembly and
stimulated regeneration out there that seem to have few of the risks
involved in tissue grafts and transplants. I think today is a martini
day if you're offering."
Conner nods in agreement with that. "Straight up with olives, thank you Majesty."
"Whatever we do for Gerard has to last through him walking the Pattern," Corwin explains. "And he's got a lot of reconstruction to do before he can walk at all."
Even if it may be a little early, historically, for a proper martini, Corwin seems up to the task. But he always was.
Conner sighs. "His injuries are extensive. Hannah had taken charge of his medical care so I'm not up on any recent developments. I seem to recall she was trying to break him of his morphine dependence and switch him to something less taxing on his body. We've considered nanotechnology, shapeshfiting, sorcery and all points in between and it all comes back to not knowing if the Pattern would undo the healing and not wanting Gerard to be the first test subject." Conner throws up his hands.
"I think that is why I am trying to keep Rebma from flying apart and seeking to battle Dragons." Conner admits. "These problems are at least more approachable if no less complicated. Speaking of which, Majesty, has my Mother spoken to you about a small hole in the fabric of reality that sits on the battlefield outside of Rebma?"
"I think I'd recall that," Corwin says. "Why don't you tell me about it?" He's still working on the martinis.
"Certainly. But you'll need a little background first." Conner takes a moment to decide how best to approach this and decides that direct is the best way to proceed with Corwin. "Before the battle with Huon's forces began, Huon advanced from his troops with an attendant, both of them astride giant sharks, and called for parley. Khela, Brennan and myself swam out to meet them and that is when he threatened to detonate a blood bomb over Rebma's Pattern if we did not give him the Pattern Sword of Rebma. Not trusting Huon to keep his word even if we were willing to turn over the sword, we pooled our talents and managed to send Brennan to the Pattern Chamber to deal with the threat there."
Conner pauses a moment in remembrance. "Brennan disappearing alerted Huon that the parley was over and he dove in to attack. He went straight for Khela and he sent his shark at me. Now, I have been calling these constructs sharks but in fact they were magical constructs designed to both damage an opponent and hold fast any weapon used against them. Which is exactly what happened when stabbed my spear into the thing." Conner smiles wryly. "So there I was clinging to a spear stuck in shark being carried swiftly away from the battle between Huon and Khela over the Pattern Blade and from what I could see, Khela was outmatched. So I did what seemed best at the time. I used a sorcerous technique called Parting the Veil. Essentially I link two points in space and then pass through covering great distances with a single step. So I disappeared from where I was and reappeared directly behind Huon. I still had my momentum so I slammed into him and we both hit the ground. That bought us enough time for Jerod to arrive and you've heard at least the short version of their fight and the subsequent chase in near Arden I'm sure." Conner summarizes.
"Now to the hole I mentioned." Conner goes on. "Usually when I Part the Veil, the two points that I have linked spring apart immediately after I cease concentrating on it. The physics of reality reassert and all is like it was before I did anything. This time, the sorcery has persisted. There still exists two points hanging in the waters around Rebma where touching one sends you through to the other one. When I spoke to Mother of this, she opined that only someone that had familiarity with Rebma's Pattern and the Jewel would be able to remedy this situation. I realize this is likely very low on your to do list, Majesty, but I do hope this is something you could look into when time permits." Conner finishes.
Fletcher is full of questions like 'why would Gerard need to walk the pattern a second time?', 'how did you teleport near a pattern?', 'why wouldn't Gerard's own tissue having been healed hold up on the pattern?', and a bunch of others including whether or not Khela is supposed to create her own Pattern now. However, he suspects that his family members have started to tire of his endless questions and chooses to simply ask, "Did she speculate as to the cause of the situation?"
"Sorcery can often have unpredictable effects in the presence of a Pattern." Conner answers simply. "Usually the presence of a Pattern simply causes the sorcery to fail but if the will behind the sorcery is strong enough then something will happen but a twisted version as the Pattern fights the will of the sorcerer. Had it not been such an extreme situation, I would never have Parted the Veil that close to a Pattern." Conner admits.
The questions about Gerard seem to answer themselves as Fletcher thinks about the man he saw in the wheelchair during the family meeting. As a physician, he can recognize that Gerard's injuries include shattered legs and a crushed pelvis; it's probably only because Gerard's an Amber royal that he's alive at all. If these injuries are old, they probably won't heal on their own. They should have already regenerated. And if Gerard uses mechanical or magical healing to walk again, he could potentially find himself in a shadow where whatever was done to him didn't work. Anything that could survive Gerard walking the Pattern would survive anywhere Gerard might go in Shadow.
Sometime during Conner's recitation, Corwin finishes the martinis and hands them to Fletcher and Conner. Taking his own, the King finds a seat and settles into it. "Fiona's right. Someone needs to take the Jewel down there and examine the spot. Also whatever Brand's son did to get into the Pattern chamber. And Random probably still needs to avoid Rebma for the time being." He doesn't look pleased at the answer that leaves him with.
"So what did Fiona say? And what's your assessment--and hers--of the situation in the Pattern chamber?"
"She told me to speak to you." Conner smiles back at his Uncle as he settles into a chair and the drink. "Mother has yet to personally examine either situation though of course she has offered an opinion based on my descriptions." Conner takes a long sip of his martini. "All available evidence points to a functioning Pattern in Rebma. People can still breathe, probability follows the normal laws, and sorcery and shadow shifting are inhibited. Yet, we cannot shake the feeling that something is not right there metaphysically speaking and this persistent Parted Veil is a symptom of it. It is why getting into Rebma's Pattern chamber is a high priority on several levels."
"And Moire took the key," Corwin says, still flat and displeased. "I walked the Rebman Pattern, and gained entrance into Amber. I teleported from the center in Rebma to the center in Amber, and from there to--" his expression darkens "--a place that's probably gone now. I can do the same from Notre Dame."
Fletcher ponders Corwin's statement. "If there's damage suspected, it would behoove us to know for sure. It would probably be worth something to Khela to gain access to 'her' Pattern room too. On the other hand, teleporting to the center of a possibly-damaged Pattern could be dangerous, even if it didn't involve walking the... a Pattern as a prerequisite.
"But someone already did that," Corwin points out. "Walking the Pattern won't amplify any sorcerous disturbance. And you don't have to land in the center--although it would be the easiest way to be sure you could get out again."
"Yes, I suspect the door is no easier to open from the inside." Conner agrees. "I have a few contingencies that I wish to try, mostly variations on picking the lock or creating a new key, before anyone risks walking the Pattern for this purpose." Conner replies. "However, I am prepared for that eventuality if all else fails. Should it come to that, Majesty, have I your permission to use the Pattern of Paris for this purpose?"
"You do." Corwin doesn't sound particularly pleased about that, although his displeasure doesn't seem to be aimed at Conner, who has, after all, just received permission to walk his Pattern.
Celina senses the dark room flip twice and she strikes the buffet table sending the drained wine bottles and food platters crashing to the floor. Wood cracks and the table legs give under her impact. She rolls across her left hip and rights herself. Pearls! I should have cross-blocked. Her legs are every bit as long as mine. And very fast.
Celina's chest throbs. There would be a heel bruise tomorrow from that kick. "Nice hit." Celina scowls, how to say 'I didn't mean to hit you so hard? It just happened.' Her temper runs like fire in her bones.
Celina steps away from the broken furniture and glassware and checks Khela with a glance. Khela breathes roughly in a TaKhi low-stance waiting for Celina to close again. The mark on Khela's face was yet a deep reddish-green blur, fading slowly and matched to the sting in Celina's palm.
OK. Maybe we need this. I need to know why I'm like this. Celina lets the breath realign her. Say something---work back to the rational. "Do you think we might master something besides the sex?" She darts forward, leaps the divan between them and lands early so she can shoulder roll and launch a jabbing kick to her lover's upper thigh.
Khela folds around the jab, collapsing and rolling backwards into third stance. "We? Are you sticking around, then? Because I asked you to see if you could stop your mother from doing something crazy, and you didn't come back and I had to come up here to find out if you were dead!" By the end, she's shouting and the rest of her face matches the red-green where she'd been slapped.
"Arrrrgh!" she shouts, and throws a nearby wine bottle at Celina. ... Past Celina. It bursts on the wall behind Moire's daughter.
Celina jump tumbles away from the passing bottle before she realizes it will miss. She flips back to her feet from her handstop against a couch. "Don't!" She grabs the nearest thing to hand, which is a small silver dessert plate. It sails spinning for Khela's rump. "Try!" She grabs blindly again, coming up with a handful of fisheggs off a platter. She heaves the wet sludge, rocketing it for Khela's eyes. "To!" A pillow on the floor gets kicked up in the air and then hard kicked for Khela's midsection. "Out worry me!" Her face is heated. "You had resources. I was here in Pattern land without magic. Was I going to mirror you? No. Do you have a trump? No." Her voice gets deeper as the emotion overflows. "Do I have a trump? No. And she's still out there. She's still doing something crazy. She'll lock us both up now!! Or lock me up and feed you to the dragon, which is much worse for me than You!!!"
Khela lets both the plate and the pillow hit her, but dodges the fish sludge. The pillow comes rocketing back and disintegrates in a blinding cloud of feathers.
Celina spins in place, letting her loose tresses sweep feathers aside.
"You didn't answer the question! And if you're so worried about her, why are you throwing things at me!"
Celina shouts, "Am I sticking around? What did we just do three times not two seconds after the door was closed? Why am I..."
The ice-bucket from the wine follows, full of cold water and hard feelings.
Feathers, ice bits, water all choke off her words as Celina gets a mouthful. She stops and rocks back into a low balance, spitting and coughing. She pushes her soaked hair back over one ear and wipes feathers off her face. The temper sparks about in her thighs and upper arm muscles ready for a heavier object to throw. Celina slows down her voice, lowering to a conversational tone again. "I am throwing things at you because I love you. That scares me. Fear makes me hit things."
Khela looks up, as she's about to say something, then stops, then bursts out laughing.
Celina hisses low frustration... and shakes her hands out a bit wringing the temper down through her breath and out of her. "Yes, it is very funny what I've become." She steps closer to Khela with slow easy paces. "There are so many things that can go wrong. I do plan to stick around. But I want to know the plan so I can stand behind it or say, 'this doesn't work for me'."
Khela tries to control her laughter and soon manages. "It's very funny what you look like now. I'm sure I'm no better. You've become a princess of Paris and of Rebma, and there's not much funny about that.
"You want to know what the plan is? It's 'I can't stand this any more.' I don't have a plan to rule, yet. I had a plan to win the right to rule. One: make army. Two: take control of Rebma. Three: Free the Tritons. That's it. Working on three, now."
"Very well, then," Celina can smile at the feathers holding to the water on her and the contrast of white fluff, green wet skin. She closes to Khela and takes her hand, kissing the back of it. "I should not have hit you. The impulse came from my shadows and not my center. I love you and the time apart worked mightily to the detriment of my balance."
Celina does not so much pause as allow the apology part to be distinct from the next. "Your planning is horrible. I preempt it. We cannot free the Tritons until we know more of the fate we thrust upon them. They are part of our hearts, neither of us could stand them being eaten once freed. Let us together find out what the Dragon of Nedra may do if they are released from oath. I think the Tritons will tell us, o queen of Rebma." She tries to smile. "And you better tell me before you consider walking the Family Torture in the depths or I shall not support you as I plan to."
Khela's face gets serious, as if she were teaching lessons again. "We have to. I promised, and they followed me knowing of my promise. We do what's right and then deal with the consequences. If I waited to do the right thing until the time was perfect, Rebma would be in Huon's hands today." Her face blossoms into a smile of her own. "And the tables turn and you are mistress of the pattern and I am not. Tell me what it is like, teacher."
Celina nods. "You are right. We have to. I'm not saying any different. We can however lever furiously with the Tritons themselves into what they think happens next. I'd rather be poised a bit since we know there is nothing perfect about the plan. Between us all, there will be consequences and we may have help with that."
Celina traces Khela's face where the stinging slap still shows. "The Pattern is not so much glorious as silent wonder. It is the hardest thing ever. Worse than starving for your touch. More terrible than my temper or the knowing smile of my mother as she holds me down." Celina takes Khela's hand and kisses it again. "The Pattern seems to connect all of my center to everything I regard. Such that my regard becomes a stress upon the waking world. The world becomes a bit more dream-like, since it changes when I think it must."
Khela nods. "The tritons who came to me have been free since they did so, the rest were freed as my first act. Rather than guess or ask how they might act when freed, we can observe. It will be a generation before there is any real change, is my guess."
Celina frowns.
She pauses. "I will need to take the pattern in order to hold my throne securely."
"And while that might be true, most certainly is true," Celina's voice is a bit dark, "there are indications you cannot do it. The sword might help you overcome those limits. Or warn you not to try."
She smiles, the crazy-mad smile. "Only one way to find out, isn't there?"
Celina smiles a reflected crazy mad smile. "No. Three ways."
"Left foot first, right foot first, and hop on? Really, it's down to doing or not doing. But if we don't get into the pattern chamber, it doesn't much matter. Any idea on how we do that?" Khela moves in closer, and strokes the back of Celina's ear.
"Oh yes, I do," Celina says, "but you won't like how I would do it." She runs the tip of her finger over Khela's full lips. "You and I should talk to Random before we leave here. One of the three ways is to have a blessing from the King of Xanadu to try the Rebma Pattern. I want you to ask him."
Khela's tongue flicks out, almost reflexively, touching Celina's finger. She smiles, sadly this time. "You know I can't do that and maintain my position as Queen. I can't start my reign beholden to another monarch, or bound by one. I owe enough of my position to Amber already."
"I do not think he wants that either," Celina responds. "As an uncle, however, he doesn't want you dead. So we talk to Uncle Random and get his opinion of your chances on the Pattern. That's the best blessing we could have."
[Khela] shrugs. "We'll see. Prince Martin has made Xanadu's position very clear to me, and familial concern was not on his list."
"That's his privilege." Celina nods cheered by Khela's willingness to bend on this point. "We are not asking for Random to extend Xanadu. We'll appeal to an uncle that has an interest in us continuing to work for Order and add strength to the Family as a whole." Celina grins. "Have you any thoughts to share about your heir, queen of Rebma. You'll want to tell me before your Pattern walk."
Khela looks serious. She reaches out with her index finger and runs it down Celina's nose.
Celina's heart pounds as the tingle in her nose echoes a spiral up her spine. Her eyes spark. "Yes? You are going to tell me something very pleasant like you already have a son or daughter?"
She smiles. "Much better. I have a lover who once was my student."
Celina finds a smile and spends it. "Well. Then I'll have to make sure you don't need an heir for a long time. Let me approach Random for an informal family session?" She pulls Khela closer takes a wet feather from her own shoulder and puts it on Khela's nose. "When do you return to Rebma? Are you taking Conner with you? I don't want to be here longer than saying my farewells to a few family."
She nods. "I return to Rebma as soon as I can make my farewells to Corwin. I've taken care of my business here. No matter what happens with your father, the embassy is ours."
Celina gives her a long look. "What do you mean, 'no matter what happens with my father'? What's about to happen?"
Khela smiles. "Just politics. If he shelters your mother, then Rebma cannot very well have unstrained relations with him. This may be my last visit to his palace until the matter is resolved."
"Fine," Celina offers. "He's an opaque man with no sense of conversation, but I'd be wroth if something happened to him that put a breach between Merlin and I. Rebma should be making friends with Paris. Real friends, not just politics." Celina drapes her arm around Khela's shoulder. "We might have more influences here than ever Rebma had in Amber."
She nods. "My Rebma will have a new Golden Age where the Queen won't issue death sentences over her courtiers and relatives sleeping with Princes of Amber."
"Good. Did Rilsa get a death sentence for sleeping with Eric? Or just you? Or were death sentences passe after yours? How many death sentences has she ...nevermind. Tell me something else, please. What keeps your mother from taking the throne now that Moire has fled?"
"Good sense, I believe. She doesn't want it, or says she doesn't. She thinks it ruined her half-sister." Khela smiles. "I, however, am young and foolish and believe it can be used to do some good."
"Pearls," Celina mutters with a lopsided grin. "They'll call this the Young Foolish Years in the oral histories. So frankly....how much support will we get with the politics that may ruin us? It would help if Aunt Llewella was more than a sounding board for the Foolish Policies. For instance, you will need to replace a lot of the functionaries, yes?"
[barring more surprises...I think Celina is about out of agenda...but then...Khela seems to have yards of surprises. We could do court yammer in summary?]
[We yammer on, summarily.]
And before closing that...Celina will mention she's planning on getting some sorcerous artificer to join the ranks of Rebma resources. No details the Queen would have to object to or deny later.
After Fletcher and Conner and Corwin have had a chance to decompress and discuss various things, Fletcher eventually makes his way on to other business, leaving Corwin and Conner alone.
Conner watches Fletcher leave and then turns back to Corwin. "Well now we can talk a little business, Majesty." Conner smiles but it isn't his usual diplomat's grin. Its the sudden smile that comes from just getting a joke. "You know, it just occurred to me that on some level this is all Paige and Daeon's fault. I should explain. You see, I was at Heather Vale when Artemis came for Daeon and I was powerless against the Green. I was there again when the Dragon of Arcadia came for Paige's children in Amber's castle and again I could do little but watch as things unfolded. So for the unforgivable crime of humbling me and to protect Paige's children, I began studying ways to fight Dragons. This path ultimately led me to where I am now which is here, to ask what is like to bear a Pattern blade and what is like to contest against dragons. Will you advise me, Majesty?"
"I can offer some advice, but they're all different." Corwin touches Grayswandir, which he wears belted as if he were an old-fashioned gentleman, as if it were a lover instead of a blade. "What did Bleys say when you asked him this question?"
"When last I spoke to my Uncle about Pattern Blades it devolved into a mathematical seminar." Conner admits with a smirk. "Which left me with as many questions as it did answers. Aside from that, he told me that the blades never really let go and that it binds you into the reality that is the Pattern it is attuned to." Conner takes a long drink from his martini. "Does that agree with your experience?"
"Yes, somewhat, but obviously Tir is different to Amber, or at least what Amber was." Corwin says this as if it's an understatement. "I trust the omens of Tir more than some of the others in part because I can get better omens from it." He leaves the corollary, that Bleys' experience will have changed since the Sundering, unspoken.
"One wonders if Rebma's Pattern has such an advantage to it." Conner shrugs. "It is something I shall investigate to be sure." Conner pauses a moment. "I know from the tales that you have walked Rebma's Pattern. Did it feel any different from walking Amber's?" Conner asks.
Corwin frowns and doesn't respond immediately, as if he's sorting through his memories. "There were some differences, yes. But I don't know if they were to do with Rebma so much as to do with me: who I was, and why I was walking the Pattern. I got most of my memories back, the ones I'd lost. But I had all my memories when I walked the Pattern in Amber the first time." He frowns again, his lips pressing together thoughtfully. "And it was a long time ago."
Conner nods. "I understand, Majesty. Thank you. Perhaps we should move to more concrete matters, such as the Dragon of Arcadia." Conner suggests. "I have witnessed its power only once and the insidious nature of its influence is impressive to say the least. How did you strive to contain it?"
"Does Macy's tell Gimbel's?" Corwin asks rhetorically. "Well, maybe this time it does. Not the way Julian and Finndo did, for a start. It was a long and ugly process, and involved a lot of fighting. Not so much with the Dragon herself, but with her minions. I had to convince them that I meant business and when I said to get out of Arden, I had the power to enforce it.
"Legend has it that that's what Cneve did, too."
"That is the story I have heard as well." Conner nods. "Though I am told it was more Finndo and Osric inflicting the casualties in vengeance after Cneve fell. You can understand my desire not to follow Cneve's example in this modern context." Conner smiles slightly. "Nor does the prospect of breeding subsequent generations of smaller issues to contain a larger appeal. Just as with the sword, it seems I must find the way that best works for me." Conner runs a hand through his auburn hair. "Thank you for your time, Majesty. I appreciate it."
Conner stands for a moment for permission to go then decides to say one thing more. "Incidentally, Majesty, I've spent the recent past traveling and working with Celina and Merlin and I've found them both to be skilled people that comported themselves well in the face of danger. Whenever circumstances permit, I will look out for them."
"That's very kind of you. I know both of them can use friends, especially right now." Corwin doesn't elaborate on the context of that statement. "As for the sword--" he pauses "--there's no teaching it. It's like walking the Pattern. I could tell you about it, but until you've wielded the blade and made it yours, what I could tell you won't make sense. You'll grow into it, if it's your destiny. Remember, even Bleys was young and inexperienced at one point in his life, even if he'd never admit it now."
Conner chuckles at that last bit. "Thank you for that Majesty. Times being as they are, I doubt I'll have the luxury of growing slowly but that is no matter." Conner puts up one finger. "I just remembered something. I wanted to ask your permission to speak with Bend. I have a few questions about my previous life in Rebma that I would have answered."
"You have it." Corwin rises and moves to the secretary, clearly meaning to write a note for Conner to give to the jailers when the time comes. "She's gotten crossways with a number of people. What did she do to you?"
"Possibly nothing. Possibly everything. That is what I want to try and find out." Conner explains. "You see Bend and Lord Montage were a team of Royal Troubleshooters and it was with Lord Montage that I investigated a break in at Llewella's townhouse. Shortly afterward, I was being framed for murder and smuggling and had to flee Rebma for my life. So either Bend arranged it or knows who did. It is a loose end I would like tied up."
"If you take the blade, your status in Rebma will be secure, either way. But I understand wanting to know who had it in for you." Corwin finishes scribbling a note and folds it up to hand to Conner. "Don't break Bend. We're not finished with her just yet."
"If she lives up to her name, then she will not break." Conner grins. "Thank you again, Majesty. I appreciate your time and aid in these matters." Unless Corwin has more to say, Conner heads to where Bend is being held to begin his questioning.
The prisoners of King Corwin are housed during his pleasure at the Bastille, and so it is there he is sent to speak with Bend. When he arrives with his note from Corwin, sealed with the sign of the rose on the special royal silver wax, the guards hasten to fulfill his every wish. They can take him to Bend's cell or bring her out to speak with him, whichever he prefers.
The idea of having Bend brought before him is a pleasing one, but there is no point in giving her even a slim chance to escape these walls. Conner asks to see Bend in her cell.
The guards lead him into the depths of the Bastille, where Bend is housed in a small, solitary cell. Its walls are stone, and Conner can see the loops where a prisoner could be chained to the wall. The stone floor is lined with straw, and there's a pot for the necessary, but no other furniture.
Bend is sitting on the floor in a ragged shift. There are no obvious signs of torture to Conner's trained physician's eye, although she has some bruises, perhaps from being pushed around a bit. He suspects poor food, mild dehydration, and lack of exercise instead of physical abuse.
The guards gesture him into the cell. "Knock when you're ready to leave," one of them says to Conner. Bend fixes them, and then Conner, with a baleful eye.
"And so we come full circle," she says as the heavy wooden door slams shut behind them.
"Not quite. You never managed to get me into a cell." Conner smiles slightly. "Assuming you were ever trying to of course. That primarily is why I have come. At the present time, I am not concerned about your recent escapades and intrigues. Let the Queen plot and scheme in the wilderness." Conner shrugs unconcerned. "I am more interested in illuminating the past. Share a little history and I'll see if we can improve your living conditions."
"You'll stand up to the--princess?" From the hesitation, Conner can guess that's not the first word that had come to Bend's mind about his aunt. "Am I supposed to believe you have that in you? What guarantees do you offer?"
"I guarantee that I am the only person in Paris, Amber and Xanadu that will try to treat with you by being nice." Conner treats Bend to one of his brightest grins. "Once upon a time, the ruler of this realm knew the little comforts that came from a loyal partisan while in jail and recognized the blind eye turned toward such small mercies." Conner pauses a moment and crosses his arms. "I'll advocate for you as a service for a Rebman citizen." Conner just manages to hold back a chuckle. "Its a better offer than anyone else is going to give you. So will you talk to me now or shall I just add a few questions to the interrogator's list and check back periodically to see when you've broken?"
"Ask your questions," Bend says. A smile not unrelated to a sneer curls her lips. "We'll see whether I have any answers for you."
"Why was I being framed for smuggling?" Conner asks bluntly. A smile is currently absent from Conner's face.
Bend stares at him for a moment through narrowed eyes, as if trying to remember something that happened so very long ago. "You had unfortunate friends. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Thalia and Hargarel were the true targets then?" Conner inquires. "What were they up to that finally had to be dealt with?"
"After Huon's assault on the city, and the level of magical support he had, you still ask that? Gateway fancies itself the equal of Rebma, and has always tried to advance itself at her expense. Thalia was at the center of Gateway's plots and Harga'rel was her agent."
Bend is watching Conner's expression closely.
Conner's reaction is one of slight annoyance. "I do not need you to tell me that Gatewegian's scheme and plot, Bend. I'm sure Gateway ambassadors have been doing that since Moins first invited them to send one. I want to know what Thalia was in the middle of that caused someone to send Tritons to kidnap her in the middle of the night. That is a step not often taken, after all."
"I tell you what you ask, and you do not understand." Bend laughs. "We did not know 'Huon', but we knew Thalia was trifling with Rebma's enemy. And the Triton business was also flaring up, with Khela rising in the Seawards. Thalia was a loose end my Queen could no longer afford. So we moved to deal with her and Harga'rel.
"But I didn't send the Tritons. I don't have the authority, or the power. Neither did my brother." She pokes a bony finger in Conner's direction. "Moire had reason to get rid of her, but she wasn't the only one to command Tritons, nor did she have Llewella's house ransacked. Otherwise she'd never have sent Montage."
Conner takes a moment to think this through. That Gateway would treat with anyone that promised advantage over Rebma is a given and Huon would be able to find Gateway in a shadow walk for allies. The sea lanes were disrupted back then but Gateway's shadow magic could have provided communications between Thalia and Gateway proper. Still, something about the timetable does not sit right with him. If Huon had credible intelligence about the state of Rebma and Amber from Thalia, why he did wait years before launching his assault? It could have taken that long for all the pieces of his plan to come together, perhaps.
Conner ceases his musing and comes back to Bend. "Ah yes, the break in. Now that was a curious thing. I, of course, came to those same conclusions. It had to be a member of the Rebman Royal family and it either wasn't on Moire's orders or she wished to make it seem that way. So what conclusions did you and Montage come to regarding the break-in?"
"Khela, of course," Bend says impatiently.
"To what purpose?" Conner presses.
Bend shrugs. "Her mother had locked away the mirror they were using to communicate as a result of some quarrel between them. I believe Khela wanted to retrieve it, to communicate with someone else. Either that, or there really is someone else who can command the Tritons."
"Well there is the obvious option of the rest of the Royal Family of Rebma." Conner observes. "Were they not suspected pro forma or was there evidence to exclude them?"
"The evidence of the mask from the witnesses, and a tie to a later attack on the Duke Jerod along the same lines. While I have never doubted that Loreena or Valeria would hesitate to deal with their brother according to their need," and an unkind smile appears on Bend's face, "there was no need at the time."
"They always were a pair of cold blooded fish." Conner concurs. "Thank you, Bend. I think I have gotten all I am going to get from you. Though I must confess to surprise that Moire had inklings of both Huon and Khela years in advance and her sole preparation for war appears to be a decent escape route. Its not what one would expect, is it?"
"We didn't know Huon was who and what he proved out to be." Bend shrugs again. "As for Khela, well." There's a pause while she sorts her words again. "My Queen said long ago she would destroy herself without anyone else's help. So I wait."
Conner smiles. "Well, I doubt Princess Florimel will keep you or Moire waiting long, Bend. I shall try to intercede but I think that neither of you shall have that opportunity to gloat." Conner raises his voice. "Guard! I am finished here."
An hour or so later, Conner pens the following note and sends it via page to Corwin:
To His Majesty King Corwin of Paris:
As you know, I have met with your prisoner Bend and in exchange for some information about my past in Rebma, I have agreed to advocate for her as a Rebman citizen. So, to discharge my obligation, please consider this a pro forma request that Bend be released into Rebman custody or failing that that Bend should be afforded a more comfortable confinement as befits her position. Naturally I have already accepted your rejection of the first petition and am mollified by your assurances that all prisoners are treated well and courteously in the Kingdom of Paris. You will hear no more from me on this matter.
Thank you again for all of your help and advice.
Conner.
A little after that, a second note is sent to Princess Florimel
To her Highness, Madame la Princesse Florimel:
First off, let me again offer my condolences, my Aunt. Lucas will be missed. If I may be of any service to you in the matter of seeing justice done, please do contact me.
Earlier today, I was given permission by His Majesty Corwin to visit Bend and indeed I have done so. I wished you to hear this from me lest you fear my actions would impact your own investigations. We spoke mainly of issues from my past time in Rebma and alas I could cozen no useful information about the present or recent past from her. Bend is under the impression that I am advocating on her behalf with the King and I hope that you might take advantage of that belief in your dealings with her.
Sincerely,
Conner
Last modified: 16 October 2010