I Have a Theory

Signy leaves the room, and heads down the hallway in the direction of her next task.

Heavy feet drag inexorably down the hallway as she plays over her first reunion with Tomat after the melee in front of her father's Tower, and the discussions with Marius, puzzling over how they fit with her earlier memories of him when he was her tutor.

Too soon, she finds herself in front of the door to his quarters. She stares at the door for a long moment, before reaching up and briskly knocking on the door, uncertain if she wants him in or not.

It takes a moment for him to answer, but open the door he does. "Lady Signy," he says. "Welcome. You may come in if you wish, but these guest quarters are not well fit for entertaining company." He moves to allow her entrance, if she wishes.

Signy allows a brief, warm smile at his words before shaking her head. "No need to worry, there are plenty of rooms available where we can talk."

She turns and waits for him to catch up before heading down the hallway at a steady pace, wrapped in an introspective silence. She heads down the hallways before stopping at an unoccupied room where they can have a conversation with some degree of privacy. As they enter, she offers him a chair, hooking one of her own.

She settles into her chair and focuses her eyes on Tomat's. "I wanted to ask you some more questions about the Order," she says quietly.

Tomat waits for Signy to seat herself before sitting down in the chair she indicated. "Of course. What questions do you have? I'll answer them to the best of my ability."

Signy exhales. Lacking more delicate openings, she just goes straight to the point. "It sounds like your Order is one of the groups that were responsible for abducting Marius, and involved with the person that just tried to attack Rebma."

She leans forward slightly, gauging his reaction.

"Did you know anything of this?"

Tomat looks disturbed. "I didn't know. I wish I were surprised. The reach of the Order is long, and extends even into Amber itself. The Order has always considered Rebma a threat. Many of the powerful shadow kingdoms like Gateway could be subverted, but Rebma has power and sorceries even beyond what the Order can teach. That the Cardinals of the Order would act against it surprises me not at all.

"And your brother--forgive me, Lady, but I am to blame for that. I fled with him, and that made him an enemy of the Order, forever after." Tomat bows his head, as if the knowledge of his responsibility has placed a heavy weight on his shoulders.

Signy nods her head slowly. Some of the tension drains from her body, but her face remains serious, her gaze still focused on Tomat.

She hesitates for a second before another question slips out.

"What is their link in Amber? Does it extend to Paris or Xanadu?"

"I don't know about Xanadu, but there are brothers in Paris. In Amber, our faith is forbidden," Tomat explains, "or was, by the command of King Oberon. But there are secret brothers who share our beliefs, and always have been. I would know some of the secret signs, and if you command me to, I will seek them out. But if I am seen, and named apostate, they will kill me." It is a fate to which Tomat seems resigned.

Signy relents briefly, and a good-natured smile slips out, just for a moment. "No, I don't think that things are quite at that stage yet."

As suddenly as it appeared, the smile slips away.

"Were you at the Tower when my mother was there? I can't believe that your Order didn't know of my father's connections to her family."

"I wasn't present at the Tower then, no." He shakes his head in the negative. "But of course the Order knew. It was one of the reasons they sought to have you in their teaching. My teaching, that is." He flushes slightly at the last few words. "And I do not know what they obtained from your father with the price of my time as a teacher. I was never told."

Signy blinks slowly, mulling over Tomat's slip of the tongue.

"Did they give you any specific orders about me?"

Tomat shakes his head again. "They did not ask me to teach anything specific, or to withhold information, if that's what you mean. I think they hoped to cultivate you as a resource for the Order, a friend to it, over the years. Had you taken your father's place, and had I been there as your old tutor, I expect that they would have asked much of me then."

Signy's face twists into a brief, unhappy look. "Things were so much simpler when it was just him and I on the Plain," she says with just a hint of a plaintive tone in her voice. "None of these hidden depths to things to worry about."

She quickly puts it aside, focusing back on the present. "It seems a bit short-sighted of the Order, though, to have thrown in on this sort of plan. They have to figure that there would be some sort of retaliation for an act like this, no?"

It takes Tomat a moment to parse her meaning, as confusion crosses his face, and then understanding. "You mean with your brother? For them to take such a risk, they must have assumed a very great reward. I can think of some that might induce them, not least of which is your brother's own person, if he survived. The Order desires to know what it is that makes the scions of your line so different to the rest of the universe. They would see--" and here Tomat's face twists a little in revulsion at the idea "--having one in their power an opportunity not to be forgone."

Signy frowns. "Not just that, but also the attack on Rebma. That seems the sort of act that will invite retaliation against all parties...."

"I don't understand," Tomat says. And he wouldn't, necessarily; he's not of the royal blood, so how the weapon ties to the threat against Rebma may not be clear to him.

(Signy has certainly noticed by now that some details of the Pattern are unknown to those outside the royal family.)

Signy shakes her head, a rueful look on her face. "Armies were led against Rebma, attempting to take it by force. Even if the attempt had succeeded, I don't see how they would have been allowed to keep it, and take it or no you'd expect retaliation to be taken against all those that had a hand in the endeavor."

She gives Tomat a brief grin. "I forget, you haven't been able to keep up on the news and goings on lately."

For now, she leaves some of the finer details of the attack unsaid. It seems safer right now, both for the Family and also for Tomat.

Tomat shakes his head, as if in denial of what Signy has said. "That makes no sense to me. The brethren prefer to act from the shadows, to advise rulers and generals, not to lead the charge themselves. Whatever plan they had to escape, or to remain unknown, must have failed them. At least all this makes sense of why the Regent seems to suspect me of complicity in some crime."

Signy pauses, and locks Tomat's eyes. "Is there anything else that was going on that I need to be aware of?"

Tomat blinks. "I'm sure there was, but I don't know of anything relevant to the matter of your brother, or Rebma, specifically. I wasn't involved in whatever the Order was planning there."

Signy keeps his eyes locked with hers. "You started to mention a problem with the Abbot when you returned from my Father's Tower," she prompts him.

There is some effort on Tomat's part not to break gaze; he flushes slightly. "The Abbot removed me from my service to your father because he feared my loyalty to the Order might not be absolute. It seems he was right, even if his decision to treat me as if I were untrustworthy was a factor in my choice to leave the Order."

Signy blinks in surprise. "Why would he question your loyalty?"

"I don't know," Tomat confesses. "But I would not have stood by if he meant to treat you as your brother was treated. Perhaps that was his concern."

Signy's gaze continues to keep Tomat's eyes locked, and a hint of something more...firm creeps into her voice. "Were there plans to have me brought to them?" She pauses briefly, before pressing further. "What else aren't you telling me?" The last is asked not unkindly.

If pressing her old tutor this way is causing her any qualms, she does not show it.

Tomat pales and shakes his head in the negative. "I do not know of any specific plans against you, I swear it. But you are of the Amber blood, and the Abbott is jealous of all who have that power. He says that the powers you bear can be had by other men, and the scions of Amber will not share them. I do not think he meant you specific harm, but he wished a watchful eye set on you, and on any of your mother's kin that passed through. This is all I know of his plans; I swear it."

Something in her gaze changes, breaking the grip on Tomat's eyes. Some of the stiffness goes out of her posture, and she eases back in the chair in a more relaxed, informal posture.

Her eyes glance away from Tomat briefly. "I think I may want to pay a visit to this Abbott of yours, and discuss certain matter with him," she mutters irritably.

Looking back at Tomat, she shifts again in an attempt to become more comfortable. "What are your thoughts on this whole mess? Do you think that your Order is the driving force behind this, or are they just being opportunistic and signing on to someone else's plan?"

"They're not the driving force behind Huon; he's just a tool." Tomat shakes his head again, reinforcing the point. "But they would take the opportunity to shape his plans the way they want them to go. And that is to obtain all the power of Amber of old. To the extent that such power still exists there, and not here in Xanadu." He glances around him at this new place, so different from the shabby chamber where he'd been kept in Amber.

Signy gives an unhappy sigh. "And yet, I don't see how Rebma falling allows them to accomplish that, unless there's some hidden advantage that they would get...?" Her voice trails off, too much unknown and unknowable to let her carry that line of thought any further.

She looks back at Tomat, a somber expression on her face. "It sounds like you don't think there's much that will be able to be accomplished through talking with them, but we need to get to the bottom of what they're up to. What do you think is the best way to go about that?"

This Tomat can answer without thought or hesitation: "Capture a senior member of the Order and get the information out of him. But that won't be simple. Many of us are sorcerers; it is required for the higher ranks. And most of those who go into the realms of shadow on assignment, as I did, are not so senior. But it is that or go to war and destroy the abbeys and salt the ground to be sure they never harm you again--if you can do so."

Signy thinks this over for a second. "Do the senior members venture out at all? Would any of them be in some place like Paris or Amber?" She pauses, and another thought occurs to her. "What was their history with King Oberon?"

"Many of the details are only known to the historians of the Order, but he banned the Order from Amber many years ago. What agents there are in Amber--and probably in Xanadu--are secret members of the Order. Or perhaps they operate under the name of one of the Order's Saints." Tomat shrugs; he seems to be at the limit of his knowledge of that piece of history.

Tomat considers Signy's other question. "You might be able to find one or two of the senior members outside of one of the Abbeys, or lure them out, and take them in a raid; but then the rest would be on guard."

Signy nods, and rises from the chair. "Thank you. Marius is well on the mend, and people are starting to ask questions. I don't think that anyone views you as being responsible, but I'll see if I can talk to the King to help vouch for you." Little reassurance, but it's the best she can offer.

"Hopefully, we can be out of here shortly." She gives a brief grimace of frustration. "All this sitting around is starting to get on my nerves."

Once Raven has settled into her assigned room as best as she figures she'll be able to - an activity that mostly consisted of dropping her trunk at the foot of the bed and making sure nothing was lurking in the sheets - she carefully writes out what she's learned for the people she's supposed to report in to. Reports, she can deal with.

The first is for Random; there are several instances of what look like the beginning of a word that was immediately scribbled out in favor of something else.

Your Majesty,
I spoke with my mother. She says my da was a Navy man, officer material, calling himself Corby. Seemed to think it was a fake name, and that he was a noble of some sort. I ain't sure her idea of what he looked like is much help, on account of it being 'tall, dark, and clean'. That's all I was able to get, sir.
-Raven

The second is for Martin:

Your Highness,
No luck. All she'd tell me about the boy's father is that she ain't going to tell me, on account of his having friends she's scared of. Seems she wants protekshun from them before she'll talk. Don't know the street names or nothing round here real well yet, so I drew a map for you if you need to send somebody to talk to her. Tell 'em to ware the lads on the door - I've ate smarter meals.
-Raven

There's a carefully drawn map on the bottom half of the page, starting from her ship and recreating as best as she can the route she took to get to where she found Scarlett.

Once those are complete, she locates a page to deliver them and then sets off in search of Gerard. Someone sane and not annoying to talk to sounds like a good counter to the day right now, and there was that mention of a drink, which doesn't sound half bad either...

The page is happy to direct her back toward Gerard's chambers before heading off on his errands. When she arrives there, the door is opened by a woman, unfamiliar to Raven, who is dressed in simple robes that might have been more appropriate in Amber than in the laid-back and casual realm of Xanadu. She is elegant and grey-haired, but there is something frail about her. Raven doesn't know her, but odds are from her bearing that she's no servant.

"May I help you?" she asks, and there's a trace of the same accent that Gerard has, the one that's so prominent when he's drunk as a skunk or really angry at the fool he's dressing down.

"Beg pardon, ma'am," Raven answers politely. "I was here earlier with Ranger Brita, and Prince Gerard said I was welcome to come back and visit when my tasks was done. I was going to take him up on that, if he's free?"

"Please, come in." The woman gestures Raven into the room with a polite hand, but Raven can see she's holding on to the door as much for support as to keep it open for Raven. "I am Corvis, wife to Gerard, and I welcome you to our home." It might be some sort of ritual saying, from the slight sing-song tone she gives it.

Over her shoulder, Corvis calls, "Gerard, one of your men is here to see you. The one that came earlier with Ranger Brita."

In a moment, Gerard's voice booms back from one of the inner chambers. "Aye, tell him I'll be there in a moment, and make him welcome."

"Thank you, milady," Raven says politely, as she moves into the room. "Beg pardon for the informality; I weren't aware Prince Gerard had a wife." It's not quite a question.

"My husband's father did not recognize the marriage, and I had duties in my homeland, from which I am now free. King Random has consented to welcome me to Xanadu, so I have joined my husband here. Were you one of his captains before, in the war?" Corvis closes the door behind Raven, gesturing toward the seating area with the open spot clearly left for Gerard's wheeled chair.

Raven shakes her head as she heads in the direction indicated. "No, milady. We was part of his fleet, but we was out on patrol and got lost instead of fightin' a war, and with one thing and another, I made captain while we was gone. I was just the bosun when we left."

"I would congratulate you on your promotion, but I know that in the field, they are often gained at a terrible cost." Corvis moves slowly, moreso than Raven would have expected given her age. "Please, sit down."

In another moment, Gerard rolls out in his wheelchair, moving toward a low sideboard that looks like it was custom-designed to be used by someone seated. "Captain Raven. Glad you could join us. I'll pour ye a swig and then we can talk." He adds, for Corvis' benefit, "This young man turns out to be one of my brothers' by-blows, according to his cousin Brita, and, I reckon, Random. I've not known Brita to be wrong before."

"Yessir," Raven answers. "Though I can't say as how I'm sure I get how either one of them knew, sir."

"Brita's got some trick of smelling it. She comes from giantish stock on her father's side. As for Random, he's the King, and he has all the magic of the Jewel of Judgement at his command if he needs it. Dad's bauble is good for more than just making sure of the weather." Gerard grins genially at Raven and Corvis as he wheels over to them, three glasses in hand. He passes the first to his wife, who accepts with a smile and thanks, and the second to Raven.

"And here's to family, may we all survive ours!" He takes a long swig from his glass.

Raven is clearly amused by this and lifts her glass in response.

"Anyroad, you're not the first to come here and won't be the last. I've seen a dozen and more of your cousins show up, not all of them knowing their sires and dams. Some of them still don't. It's been a hard adjustment for some and less hard for others. Ha ye met Prince Garrett, the King's younger boy? He was a stable hand in Castle Amber before he found out who his father was."

"No, sir," Raven admits. "I ain't met but a few of the Royal family, but I can't say as how I've spent a lot of time up here yet. I weren't quite aware that the King had more than one son," she adds, sounding faintly exasperated. "Every time I turn around, I got more and more things to catch up to."

"Too bad you just missed a gathering in the library. That's about the only time you get to see all the family in one place, and even then there were a few missing: Hannah and Robin and Reid. Anyway, ye should talk to him sooner rather than later. You'll na be a prince but he can tell you a bit o' what it's like to come up from the commons to the high table.

"And I know you'll na remember a damned thing, but let me go through the list for ye." Corvis, Raven can imagine, has heard this reckoning before, but sits patiently through a full recitation of the marital data of Oberon and his children, grandchildren, and, in some cases, great-grandchildren, at least.

[Assume Raven now has at least heard the public genealogy of the family with a few omissions, specifically the Clarissa curlicue and Folly's paternity.]

Raven clears her throat after a moment and says, "Er... Sir? It was only a few years we was gone, right? Because I could swear there weren't near as many of you lot when we left."

"When ye've been at court a year or three, you'll understand why no one brought their sons and daughters home when Dad--yer granda--" Gerard reminds her "--was king."

Corvis, who has been following along, suppresses something that might have been a smile.

Raven shakes her head slightly at the idea of her, in court, and moves on. "I had a word or two with my mother, sir, but I ain't sure how useful what she had to say is. She said my da was a Navy man, so I was wondering if maybe you might be after pointing me in a direction."

Gerard frowns, eyeing Raven thoughtfully. "My brothers have all served a turn in the Navy, but I reckon you're not so old that you could be Corwin's son from his days in the service, if you see what I mean. Of those who've served more recently--if you're not Random's getting, and I reckon yer ma would've remembered him--of my brothers that would be Caine."

There's a slight cough from Corvis' chair, and Gerard looks at her. "But surely your nephews might also stand as sire to a young man, Gerard?"

He seems about to object, but a long hard think about that changes his mind. "I guess it could be. Which would give ye Conner, Fiona's son. And Marius."

Raven looks faintly put-upon at the mention of Marius. She can't help but think that it would just figure. "She said he was tall, dark, and clean," she says drily. "Not that that's much use, sir. She did say he called hisself Corby, though."

Gerard shrugs. "'Clean' could be either of them under a use-name. Tall and dark, I'd say Marius over Conner. Did she say aught about his smile? Everyone who knows Conner talks about the smile."

"Not so's I can recall, sir." Raven shakes her head and adds wryly, "But we might have got a bit off topic after that. Would it be worth asking them if they recall her?"

"Couldn't hurt," Gerard allows. "Conner's a redhead and that makes him a tricksy wight, but I think he's good at heart. Brita's his sister, in the half blood: they share the same mother. As for Marius, you've met him. Did anyone tell you about his mother?"

Corvis is listening attentively to the conversation but she has nothing to add at the moment.

Raven shakes her head. "I weren't even aware he was a Royal until Lady Thalia pointed it out to me, sir. After that - well, it ain't the business of a new captain to go digging into who's related to who and whatnot when it comes to Royals, is it?"

"Oh, aye, I see what you mean, but I didn't know how much ye'd been told on the way in, or what Random might've said. Marius' mother was Deirdre, full sister to Corwin and Eric, and a mighty fighter in her own right. She was killed in the war. Marius tried to save her and he was struck down by magic. He's not been quite right since he came home," Gerard explains.

Raven arrives at and promptly discards several answers to that. Several. Probably for the best if she doesn't tell her present company that that was a more charitable explanation than the one she'd arrived at for Marius. "He was certainly... interesting to travel with, sir," she settles on, in an attempt to be diplomatic. "Lady Folly and I talked a bit about what went on while we was gone, and I got bits and pieces from other folks before we left Amber, but I ain't going to claim I've got the best idea of what all happened, sir. It seems to be a lot to wrap my head around, and now there's all this," she kind of gestures around, "to add on top of it."

Corvis speaks up. "It is a great deal to take in, as I learned on my arrival in Xanadu. But you will find most of your kindred anxious to help. Many of them know less of the old Amber that was than you, and certainly less of the people of Amber, as opposed to those who lived in the castle. You have valuable knowledge to offer them, just as they have much to offer you."

There's a nod from Gerard. "Aye, most of your cousins have known Amber mostly since the Sundering. And everyone's new in Xanadu, so you're not far behind the rest in learning about this place. But if you have questions and ye canna get a straight answer, I'll be yer man. I've served the rest of your cousins so. One more won't kill me." He grins to show he means no harm by the phrasing.

"Thank you, sir," Raven answers, relieved. She wouldn't have asked, but she had been hoping for something of the kind. "Milady. I guess the hardest part right now is that I ain't sure what I'm supposed to do now. The King just said I was to get a room and that I was going to have to learn how to be a Royal, and I ain't got the first clue what that means..."

"A lot o'work and a lot o' duty, same as the Navy. Except once ye come into the royal gifts, instead of just captaining one ship, ye might lead a fleet. Or do other things." Gerard looks a bit uncertain. "I can't explain exactly until ye've done it. When ye have, it'll make more sense. Talk to Prince Garret; he's the one who might explain best. If ye need me to speak wi' the lad, or if ye'd like a letter o' introduction, I can manage that."

"I ain't really sure what's proper, sir." Raven shrugs slightly. "If just sending him a note my own self is what's proper, I can do that. If it's a letter I need, I'd be happy to have you do it. But I ain't got the first clue what's going to be right here."

It is Corvis who responds to Raven's implicit question. "This is your family now. It is not solely a question of right and wrong, but also of how you wish to present yourself among them. Which is more important to you, to respect the rank of the King's son or to present yourself to your young cousin, a lad from all accounts raised in the stable, as one kinsman to another?"

"Aye, Corvis ha' the right of it," Gerard agrees, nodding vigorously. "Ye have come aboard a new ship, or more like joined a new fleet as Captain. Some will accept ye, some needs must test ye, some will stand on ceremony. I reckon Garrett isn't much for formality. If ye send to him on yer own, it'll say one thing; if ye ask me to send a note, it'll say another. So the question hangs more on yer choices than on which is right and wrong."

Raven considers all of this in silence.

At last, carefully, she says, "Rank is... important, milady. But begging your pardon, sir, of the ones I've met - yourself and Admiral Caine seem to be the only ones with any regard for that sort of thing. Maybe Prince Martin and Lady Folly as well, though I don't know as how it really came up. So if I was to send a note to Prince Garrett, who ain't much for formality, it ain't going to hurt me much, whereas if I was to ask you to do it, it might come across as a bit stuck-up." She sighs. "I'm going to miss being lost at sea, at least for a while, ain't I? This ain't going to be simple."

Gerard shakes his head sympathetically. "Nae, it's not simple. But you'll muddle through like the rest of them do."

During his all-too-brief return to Xanadu, Fletcher schedules an appointment with Her Majesty Queen Vialle to inquire if she has any requests for his trip to Rebma.

A note, signed by her secretary Ember, is returned, inviting him to tea with the Queen.

Fletcher presents himself at the appointed time and awaits the pleasure of the Queen.

Ember is present to greet Fletcher and escorts him in to see the Queen. If he had not known it before, he can tell, by the way she moves her head and the lack of focus in her eyes, that the queen is quite blind. Other than her blindness, Vialle is not a striking woman, and would not have been much out of place in the Amber and Rebma he remembers. Her hair is brown and has been pulled back and styled by hands most likely not her own, and her skin is paler rather than the green or blue he might have expected. She prefers loose dresses, unsurprisingly, but not so bare as the Rebman fashion.

"Please, come in, Sir Fletcher, and join me." The ease with which she gestures to a chair suggests she knows this room well. "I have salt tea, and the surface variety as well."

"Thank you your majesty." Fletcher crosses to the chair. "I would welcome your recommendation for a salt tea. I will leaving for a visit to Rebma tomorrow and I wouldn't know good tea from bad. In fact, on my trip if I have time for shopping I'd be happy to pick up any blends you would like."

"You're very kind to offer. Ember will pour for us and you can try the salt tea; that way you'll at least have a recent memory of whether you like it to work from." Ember sets to work with the salt tea, which looks and smells nothing like any tea Fletcher has ever had.

She waits until Ember has poured a cup each for her and Fletcher and departed with a polite bow to address any other important subject. The soft sound of the closing of the door signals a change of topic. "Your offer to bring back Rebman delicacies is gentlemanly, and I will certainly take advantage of your kindness. But I imagine you must also hope to learn something of the Rebman court from me, since you know none of the current players. Ask me what you will, then, and I will do my poor best to prepare you."

"I suspect that one of the reasons I was selected to make this trip is because my ignorance of the current players allows me to affect impartiality. However, I cannot refuse such a generous offer. Although the accounts I've heard have carefully detailed the current disposition of cousins in and toward Rebma, I imagine there are also a fair number of actual Rebmans still in residence as well." Fletcher grins. "I'd appreciate any knowledge your have of the courtiers that may remain in Rebma. If they are playing a part in (or near) the new regime I might run into them."

"I assume the court was large and formal in your day, as I remember it being. I left Rebma when Random was imprisoned in Amber under Eric, which was about ten years ago, and have not returned since," Vialle explains. "You know the prime players? Khela, who is queen, her mother Llewella, her cousin Celina, who is also her lover, and then Rilsa, Celina's sister through Moire, and Rilsa's daughters, Loreena and Valeria, who is still here in Xanadu to the best of my knowledge. And for men," whom she does not quite dismiss as an afterthought, "Jerod, Rilsa's son by Eric, and my stepson Martin, who is Moire's grandson by Morganthe, who is dead."

One of the differences Fletcher recalls from his youth between Rebma and Amber has not changed: all these relationships are defined through the maternal lines.

"I was introduced to many of my cousins at the funerals. Jerod was kind enough to give me his impression of the current situation. He seems to be on reasonable terms with Khela. Do you think his sisters and mother are? His Majesty indicated that he would enjoy seeing Khela secure her throne. Naturally I wonder who or what she should be securing it against."

"Moire, of course," Vialle says, blinking in Fletcher's general direction. "She isn't dead, and she's certainly not finished. Rilsa vanished with her mother, and I'm given to understand that Loreena, Jerod's younger sister, is captive in Rebma. Valeria is here in Xanadu, and what passes for the Rebman embassy is a hotbed of, well, a shadow of government in exile. All of them would lose the high positions they had under the new regime." And Fletcher can certainly recall that position, title, and precedence are very important things to a Rebman.

"I don't doubt that Moire is the ultimate threat to Khela's throne. I wonder. When you talk about the high positions in Rebman society, how many are there? I don't know how many noble families rise to the level of significant factional influence these days, but I'd imagine a number of them are hedging their bets. Which of them do you think could do the most damage?"

"Well--" and Vialle off, with her impressions of court, which were formed under Moire's rule. Khela, it seems, was involved in some unsavory business with some republican-leaning nobles, one of whom was executed for murder. Martin was involved as well, having been dragged by his cousin into bad company. Moire had to squelch the group and the resentments involved seem to have lasted to the present day. All this comes out in her sorting of the numerous noble families of Rebma into loyalists to Khela and loyalists to Moire. The majority of the noble houses and the Shells of the Seaward, Vialle assumes, will be playing both sides, in hopes of improving their positions no matter how the civil war comes out.

Another outside factor will be the returned veterans of Vere's rescue of his people from the wreck of his home shadow, but Vialle can't really tell Fletcher much about them since she hasn't dealt with them herself.

Fletcher listens attentively, committing names and relationships to memory. Scratching in his notebook will come later. He asks questions, especially about the interests of the Shells. He expects an understanding of Rebma's trade pressures will be important for his visit. He expresses appropriate dismay at the plight of Vere's people and inquires about the fate of their home.

The Shells, who are the major forces in the Rebman equivalent of the old Golden Circle, have changed a great deal from what Fletcher remembers. He's able to commit many names and details to memory, including what Vialle knows about Khrop, the Shell that concealed Khela during her exile from Rebma. Their interests will surely stand high in the new reign.

Something terrible happened in Vere's home shadow, Vialle isn't quite certain what, that strained the structure of the place. It had to do with the bonded dragon-creature his cousin Jovian had, and its death at the hands of Huon's troops. Vere has brought in some Rebman troops as part of an effort to help his mother's side in the civil war there, and against Huon as well, and they ended up aiding an evacuation of the place instead.

It's clear from the explanation that Vialle understands the basic concepts of the Pattern but of course has never used it. Fletcher can guess how an advanced Pattern wielder, or simply an unskilled but very powerful one, might accidentally destroy a shadow, or at least render it completely unstable, but Vialle doesn't seem to have a meaningful idea of how that would work.