Following the announcement that Queen Celina has opened court, Corwin has arranged for an escort for Fletcher and Silhouette, to lead them down the stair to Rebma. There are a number of armed guards from the Royal Guard of Paris, and a few single individuals accompanying them. Most notable to Fletcher is a young man, Dignity, squire to Sir Brennan of the Order of the Ruby.
In the early morning, the group assembles in one of the courtyards of the Louvre with all their goods. Everyone has been warned to waterproof everything that they'll need to keep dry in Rebma. Corwin has provided oilskins for Trumps and the like.
Sir Dignity seems familiar with Rebma, enough that he has dressed appropriately.
Corwin is present to see them off, but Florimel is, of course, not.
In anticipation for the trip, Silhouette has shed most of her heavy, Victorian outfits for a more bohemian wardrobe. She currently wears a tight-fitting bodice and gathered skirt of rich olives and dark purples, her sleek, dark hair tied back so it will not get in her face. An Antiquity wax-tablet is tucked under her arm; the extent of her work-related gear. Beyond that, what minimal necessities she normally carries have been water-proofed or discarded.
She greets Corwin cordially and is unsurprised by her mother's absence.
Fletcher is prepared for the trip with a change of dry clothes packed tightly in a sealed bag. His concession to the Rebman ecology is that he wears a suit without a vest and travels hatless. His sword and scabbard are slung over his shoulder as usual. He waves a salute to Corwin.
Corwin comes to offer them his farewells and a sealed diplomatic bag, which Fletcher is to deliver to Celina on his behalf. Then they're on their way.
They take a boat on the Seine to a cave, where they enter into tunnels under the city. Fletcher, of course, notes the cairn; both note the sentry posts. Soon they reach the waterline and leave the lantern behind. Fletcher knows what to do and so do some of the escort; the rest seem to have heard about it, at least. Some of them are dubious until they walk into the water. The stair descends at about the rate Fletcher recalls the old stair to Rebma outside Amber doing; there are benches and flat resting points at regular intervals. Gossip among the men says that the stairs have grown more regular, more familiar, as travel has increased between the two cities.
They rest for the night in a huge cave, filled with rock formations, that Dignity tells them is the halfway point between Paris and Rebma. Gossip has it that those who sleep in the chamber frequently have strange and portentous dreams, but none disturb the sleep of either Fletcher or Silhouette.
The second day is much the same as the first, except that at the end of it the party walks out into a flame-globe lined boulevard. Fletcher knows this isn't the one he walked on in the old days, but it has the same sense of age to it. It is guarded by Rebman troops.
Dignity has tokens to demonstrate the status of the group, and they are escorted to the palace and told the Queen has been advised of their arrival.
When Celina gets the message from an excited page that a Paris delegation is arrived with Family, she is talking to the Archivists about assigning two young women full time to the Queen's personal records. Celina thanks the Archivists and asks them to send her a list of candidates. After asking the page the name of the sentry who ran the alert to the palace, she sends this page to share the arrival of Paris with Llewella, Brennan and Lord Conner.
She elects not to change to formal wear, but heads to the Court, where she speaks to the Captain of the Watch about clearing all side chambers for two levels out and posting two guards on every route into the audience chamber until Celina is done talking to Paris. She wants the main Palace Gallery (where young nobles wander or gossip in order to see who is coming and going at the palace) cleared as well. She instructs that Llewella, Brennan, and Lord Conner are all to be passed through sentries if they seek her.
She has the Bionin sentry runner brought to her, where she asks him to describe which members of her Family approach and who heads the Paris delegation. When she finishes with him, he's answered several other questions for her of less pressing interest about the passage from Paris, as far as he's seen it on duty.
She knows Fletcher by his description but does not recognize Dignity. She orders food to be set up in her own rooms in case things go well. She changes her mind about her casual attire. Paris politicians are probably briefed for Rebma clothing, but she isn't wearing a halter and she wants to keep this all simple. So she steps off to a robing room and selects a beaded net shawl of emeralds as long as she is tall and drapes it over her shoulders as a mantle. She slowly braids her hair up off her neck, remembering some of the fashions of Paris. Once back in the audience chamber, she finds a soldier waiting to confirm that all the adjacent chambers are clear.
[If Tritons, like Orseas, get word and show up, she'll ask him to wait in her own chambers. Without undue fuss, she's making this first official visit from Paris as elegantly simple as possible.]
If Celina cares enough to find out, she will know that Brennan knew of the delegation's arrival almost as soon as she did: It is inevitable that the cousin in charge of the new survey effort, whose scouting bands are swarming about the waterscape, and who has been spending a considerable amount of time along the road from the Paris Veil to Rebma, would know about movements along that road. Incompetence is the only other alternative.
However, intercepting them himself has the chance to upset whatever diplomatic overtures Celina has set up, so Brennan doesn't do that.
Celina indeed seems interested in who exactly is with Fletcher. She'll be very surprised that Silhouette is coming to Rebma. Does Brennan have any idea why Silhouette would be in a Paris delegation?
If there is a chance to separate Dignity from the rest of the delegation and greet him separately without creating a major incident, Brennan will do that and get a quick briefing on recent events and politics. If there is not, that will happen later.
But in any event, Brennan is of course present at court. His garb makes concessions to Rebman sensibilities, without conceding anything of who he is. It may be conservative by Rebman standards, but liberal by Amber's, and exquisitely practical for the environment. Whatever else it is, it is at least not the ceremonial garb of Uxmal-- feather would do poorly underwater, anyway.
Conner also arrives in the audience chamber. He is still dressed in Amber court fashion with slight adjustments in tailoring to allow for easier movement in water. Perhaps in time he will make concessions to Rebman style but for the nonce it is how he is comfortable. He would not miss this meeting for the world.
Celina welcomes them both. She gestures at the closed doors of court. "If this is all an official party from Father, then I expect Fletcher is in charge by his seniority. I thought Silhouette was in Xanadu. Having delivered her messages to King Random, why would she come here?"
"I suspect she is here in her position as Huon's Envoy." Conner replies. "The direct road to Rebma leads through Paris. No doubt Fletcher and Silhouette trumped to Rebma and His Majesty provided them with an escort as befitting their rank. They each come for their own reasons as perhaps an emissary from your father comes for His."
Celina nods, with an expression that clears the shadows from her eyes.
Brennan nods-- as far he knows, the road from Paris is the most accessible for large groups. Otherwise, either Fletcher would have to lead a large contingent through Shadow from Xanadu, which can be time-consuming, or they'd have to bring a large delegation through a Trump connection. The geographically scenic route was probably the fastest and easiest all around. As far as he knows, Fletcher would have to lead that, because the last he knew, Silhouette had not been allowed the Pattern.
Doubtless, Celina and Conner and Brennan have discussed this day before, but Brennan (being Brennan) takes a quick moment to re-summarize his opinions on the matter, those being:
The only thing saving Huon from being hunted and killed is Random's command. There's a limit to what Random will countenance, and therefore some room for Huon's emissary to maneuver... but perhaps not all that much. Brennan will recall Random's exact desire out loud: Huon, in chains and on his knees before Random, asking why he should spare his life.
Brennan is not merely convinced, Brennan knows that Huon understood the consequences of his actions. Celina wasn't present for it, but Brennan and Conner both were. No one conjures the phrase "sunder the Pattern" by accident, and no one idly dreams up a way to destroy a Pattern, and no one just stumbles on a convenient creature of Chaos to deliver a blood golem to a Pattern chamber. A minimal-- very minimal-- show of good faith would involve the source of that knowledge. To Brennan's way of thinking, apologies to all concerned would be better. The list of people to whom Huon owes apologies is too long even to summarize, but Huon in chains on his knees in Xanadu apologizing would make a lovely gift to King Random. Not to mention, some surety that he's not going to continue his little temper tantrum across Shadow and Substance is the real goal.
But as always, there is a complicating factor, and that is his envoy, Silhouette. In private, Brennan lets the effort that fairness requires to show on his face: Silhouette did supply Huon with weapons, and has been involved in his efforts for quite some time. However, as convenient as it would be for Brennan to portray it otherwise, he doesn't think that she understood that the destruction of Rebma was part of the plan, or how that was to be accomplished-- Marius' near murder. She surely didn't learn it from Brennan or Conner, either, and Brennan surely doesn't trust her with that knowledge even now. The list of things that Silhouette didn't-- and probably doesn't-- understand is also too long to summarize, but it includes almost everything about the Pattern, and the relationship of Order to Chaos. Anyone who considers a Dragon (or draig) to be a religious manifestation of Order isn't merely confused, but dangerously confused.
Peeling Silhouette away from Huon would be a public service. So might educating her. Unfortunately, educating her might only make her more of a danger... to herself and others. She seems to treat Family members in the way that the worst of the old stories show our Elders treating Shadows. This won't end well for her, because Brennan doesn't think she understands, yet, how many Family members she's put herself crosswise with, or what it really means to oppose other Family members.
It is in short, an ugly mess.
Silhouette slides through watery realm, as sleek and quiet as a ribbon moray. Shimmering, the navy blue striations of her sheer dress reinforce the image. She follows her guide to the palace, rarely speaking, even to Fletcher when he is present. Indeed, since descending into Rebma, she has become silent, pensive. Hiding her misery with stony resolve.
What sort of madness must have possessed the architects of this aquatic city? For all its beauty, she finds it impossible to ignore the pressing weight of so much water above her. How can she? It invades her very being. Perhaps Huon had been right, after all. Such a place should have been erased from existence.
She rubs her bare arms and shivers, unable to get warm. No matter. Duty before Self.
At the gates Fletcher (via Dignity) asks to meet with his cousin Celina at her earliest convenience and is delighted to be conducted to the palace. He inquires if his party's escort has a runner to spare to summon Ambassador Droit, explaining that he carries instructions from King Random for Droit and that his cousin would no doubt want the instructions delivered with all due haste. He explains that if possible he would like to meet with Droit as soon as possible after making his formal arrival at Court.
A runner is dispatched. She swims away.
Celina nods and a soldier arrives with the news the full delegation is arrived and ready.
Celina signals for them to be admitted.
[Celina sits the throne of Sapphire with her dark emerald hair in an updo and a mantle of emerald stones netted about her shoulders and spilling into her lap. She wears no crown. Her feet are bare. A long sheer kilt of blue is nearly the color of the water.]
Fletcher comes forward and half-bows/half-salutes Celina. "Greetings and sympathies cousin. I wish that we might have met under other circumstances. For more than a week I have been on the path to Rebma, sent by our Uncle Random to visit my cousins in Rebma on his behalf. I am sorry for your loss. I have also been asked to bring formal greetings from my uncle your father." He gestures to a diplomatic pouch he carries. "I have also had the privilege to escort to your presence our cousin Silhouette, who has her own business to conduct with the people of Rebma." For all the Fletcher seems sincere in his sympathies and good wishes, he has not uttered the words 'Queen' or 'Majesty'.
"Be welcome, Cousin. We will be delighted to read greetings from my Father and hope that your journey on behalf of my favored Uncle Random proves fruitful." Celina continues Fletcher's use of Family in lieu of Formality. "You shall have time with the Ambassador as soon as you like. But I hope you have time to tour our city while you are here."
As the others talk, Silhouette provides Conner with a gentle smile, while Brennan receives the polite deference one might reserve for their proctologist. Otherwise, her forest-shadow gaze rarely leaves the queen, silent and watchful.
Celina shifts her attention to the beautiful cousin in blue sheer dress.
Silhouette curtsies, her hand resting across her heart. "Eukhomai se hugiainein, Vasilissa Oceanus. My deepest thanks for receiving me today. Prince Huon sends his greetings and regrets. I come to you today as his Voice. With your permission, I would discuss the terms of his immediate surrender to you, my Queen."
It has been many years since Celina has spoken the language of the mercenaries of the Isle of Dragons. She was never fluent and it would be too easy to make some small error of translation. She responds instead with the old cadences of Rebma Thari. "Rebma may honor the Voice of our Foe and thy Regrets after due consideration. Rebma tells thee that Voice and Mind should be one. Does our Foe share full Mind with thee as well as send thou as Voice and Ears? Art thou messenger, Cousin, or ally? Tell Rebma if thou art Mind and Voice."
Silhouette straightens, so she can gaze Celina in the eye. As she speaks, her hands dance through the water like exotic fish. "I am your Socius, Cousin, and your Obsidaticum ['hostage'], if you so choose. In this matter, I am Huon's Voice, and he is of my Mind. I believe Rebma and its Queen would be best served by espousal of the Second Law. Repentance rather than Retribution. Huon will fall upon your mercy and shall remain your prisoner for a time befitting of his crimes. In return for your clemency, he offers compensation. His skills are many. That which he attempted to destroy, he shall help rebuild. King Random concurs with my assessment. Furthermore, considering recent developments, this Path may offer even greater benefits."
Fletcher shifts uneasily, but doesn't quite wince.
Celina stands up from the throne and moves forward. She keeps the direct eye contact with Silhouette and stops within arm's length of her. "Compensation for the planned execution our children in the thousands and the erasure of our living history is not easy to measure, Cousin. Consorting with Chaos is counted even worse in some quarters. But I have given it some thought. Rebma would be merciful and restrained for reasons we shall not share with you." Celina pauses. "And you shall agree to share in Huon's compensation, Silhouette. I shall have the names of everyone involved in this attack on Rebma. And all named shall share in the compensation."
Conner floats forward as Celina does but to keep the faces of both Silhouette and Celina in his vision. Though he longs to step in and begin negotiations, Conner holds his tongue. Her Majesty must make pronouncements and strong demands. His time is after to craft the details and soften the harder edges.
Silhouette remains impassive as Celina approaches, no expression beyond a raised eyebrow. "Agree to share in Prince Huon's compensation, my Queen?" She briefly glances over at Brennan and sighs, as if this answers her question. "I suspect I know the reason behind this odd request, but I would hear it from you, if I may. As for the names you seek, these I cannot provide. For they are not mine to give."
"You have named the reason yourself," Celina responds, "Huon and you are allies in this matter. Voice and Mind. If you cannot name all his Allies that provided Might against Rebma, then he will present the Names through you before I accept his Surrender. When Huon kneels before this throne in formal Surrender, the Names will not be spoken." Celina nods at Silhouette and her expression shows that the request is not 'odd' by her lights. Not. At. All.
Silhouette tilts her head; another mechanical blink. "In both matters, Huon has been my patron, my Queen. Nothing more, nothing less. But from your words, I wonder if this distinction is understood. As such, I require a clarification of your request. Will you solely require the Names of those who shared Huon's Intent? Or do you also wish him to Name those that served his Need, such as myself? If the latter, I suspect the list will be quite long. Raising and maintaining an army requires many tradesmen, from artificer to stable boy."
"I would suggest," Conner interjects, "that while Rebma would appreciate your opinion on who shared Huon's Intent as opposed to those that Huon used for his own purposes unwillingly or unknowingly, it is Rebma's prerogative to decide the level of culpability of each actor in this drama and pass sentence on a case by case basis. So we will need the longer list, though not the longest. Each and every private and gunsmith need not be accounted for but the Shadows conscripted and conspired with and the beings of Power and Reality that flocked to Huon's banner, those names we must have. Then we will decide for ourselves if they are worthy of mercy, like the Ponca and Abfordians, or if they shall learn harsher lessons, like the factions of Gateway."
Fletcher intercedes apologetically. "Indeed cousins there are many people involved directly and many more involved indirectly. Several crowned heads bear a responsibility to seek justice for those who were harmed." He pauses as if a thought has just occurred to him, and then continues. "Some of those crowned heads belong to our uncles. As it happens I met with both Uncle Random and Uncle Corwin shortly before embarking on this ill-timed family visit to Rebma. I would of course be willing to offer cousin Celina whatever advice and insights I might having so recently discussed some of these matters with our esteemed uncle and my uncle her father. Perhaps I might discuss the idea with Celina while Silhouette considers the level of information which she is able to provide on Huon's behalf?"
It is up to Celina, of course, to take Fletcher up on his offer, and if so who to include.
Brennan does take the opportunity to add, "If I might agree with Conner, though: I suggest that erring on the side of inclusion might be taken as a sign of good faith, and that it is also Rebma's prerogative to look favorably on those who cooperate most fully." Of course, the reverse is also true.
Celina studies Silhouette a long moment. Her silence underlines what Brennan and Conner have said. She shifts her emerald gaze to Fletcher, and tucks her hands behind at the small of her back taking a relaxed stance. "This meeting is informal. I would be glad to step away for a few minutes and listen to what my Uncles may have shared with you, Fletcher." She nods at a door some 20 meters away. "Conner and Brennan will remain here with their own questions for Cousin Silhouette. We shall return soon."
Fletcher indicates that he is ready with a bow.
Silhouette curtsies, "My queen." Despite the proclamation of this being an 'informal meeting,' she respectfully keeps her head down as Celina leaves.
When they are alone, she sighs. "The Queen takes after her father, I see." A dispassionate shrug.
To no one in particular, she says, "You have questions? I shall provide what answers I can."
"Well that went well," Brennan says to Conner, "Don't you think?"
Brennan affects to notice that Silhouette is present. "Questions," he says. "Yes, I have questions. First you were Huon's Voice. Then you were just a pawn, not his Voice at all. Which is it?"
Silouette blinks again, as if she's baffled by the question's utterance. "Truly, Brennan? Of all people, you do not understand the distinction? Very well. The answer to your first question is 'yes,' I am Huon's Voice in this matter; specifically, the negotiation of his surrender. At no point did I say I was not. Whatever services I provided prior to this current matter are irrelevant, and wholly separate contracts.
"Also, the term 'pawn' used in the past tense would define me as a willing - or unwilling - participant in his little game against Rebma. As I was not, the designation would be incorrect. I was no more a pawn than his tailor. Who, I might add, was exceptional." She smiles thinly, "Shall I place his name on your list?"
"Having seen the results of both his clothing and your rifle designs on the battlefield, I would have to disagree as to the relative value and importance of their creators to the war effort." Conner smiles. "But let us put that aside for the moment as you are quite right to separate matters. The matter of Huon must be decided first. Other matters can be picked up later if there is need." Conner smiles wider. "Now, my question. Will Huon agree to a complete accounting of all those who aided him in the assault on Rebma as a condition of his surrender?"
Brennan disagrees with at least part of that, but waits patiently for the answer to the Conner's question.
Silhouette returns Conner's smile, relieved that she is finally dealing with someone possessing a modicum of sensibility. She gives a faint laugh at his question, "Oh, I suspect Prince Huon will provide you with more than names, if granted the terms he deems desirable. From our discussions, he appears more eager to find refuge amongst his enemies rather than his allies. I doubt his honor will stay his tongue, in this regard." A wry snort.
She glances toward the door the other's exited, "The Queen is young. Will she be able to protect the Prince against his brother?"
"There is a difference in the persistence of vengeance between getting a stain on someone's favorite carpet, say, and murdering friends and family and destroying homes and refuges. Just exactly how many Family members," Brennan does not limit this to brothers, or even siblings, "has Huon given reason to try to kill him, and for what reasons?"
Silhouette shrugs, "Outside of the current feud? That, I do not know. However, Prince Huon's paranoia - a word I do not use lightly - regarding his brother, Bleys, will not easily be dispelled. One does not threaten to destroy a Pattern to 'defend' one's self and then simply choose to be at peace. I suspect part of his motivation is to end this conflict. To hide behind a cage. If he does not feel protected, I cannot be certain he will adhere to the agreement."
She looks into Brennan's eyes, "Huon may be my patron for the time being, but my true loyalties are to Order. Will the Queen understand what he represents and protect him?"
"We understand Huon as a threat to order." Conner replies from the side. "You have already stated his crime and mental instability quite succinctly. However, I do not think that is what you want Her Majesty to understand. What is it you wish him to represent? A source of knowledge present and long past perhaps or do you appeal to the bonds of family?"
She nods to Conner, "Initially, yes, Huon represented a source of Enlightenment better preserved than discarded. There also appears to be an unspoken agreement that familial bonds do provide some exemption from harsher punishments. King Random agrees with both of these. Also, throughout history, the Second Law demonstrates that a former enemy can become far more loyal than any friend.
"But, now, perhaps more importantly, adherence to the Second Law benefits her in the current political situation. With the recent death of Rebma's queen, Celina will need a symbol of her right to lead. What better way to demonstrate her power than bringing Rebma's greatest enemy to heel? It will also display than she is willing to be merciful to her enemies, inviting hidden rivals into revealing themselves. A decisive advantage when one faces the possibility of civil war."
Conner nods his head politely as Silhouette makes her points. "So Huon offers knowledge. That is well and good and we can quibble over the details of what precisely he must reveal and when he must reveal it in due time. I am just as interested in what you think Huon can do for Rebma? As Huon was stricken from Amber's history, I have only a caricatured view of the man as fratricidal followed by more recent forays into attempted genocide. Aside from his martial skills, what else is he good at?"
"The Pattern and Shadow Manipulation," Silhouette replies. "I've observed him utilizing it on a few occasions. If Rebma's Pattern remains damaged, I suspect he may offer insight into repairing it. His logistics skills are impressive; a benefit to a city pulling itself from the rubble. Also, he possesses an impressive knowledge base, including the Moon-riders and their Queen. The latter alone is worth bringing him back into the fold, and not only for Rebma's sake. The Dooms have yet to arrive, I suspect. Better to have a living library at hand, to prepare before they do.
"And, finally, he appears to possess a very intriguing skill set of an arcane nature. One he utilized here, if I'm not mistaken," she says with a faint smile, watching their reactions very carefully.
Brennan doesn't even look terribly impressed by Huon's martial prowess, considering how his last campaign ended up. Considering its place in his overall strategy, even.
"And bear in mind," Brennan says, "That for this to work as you are suggesting, there needs to be substance behind the symbolism. It is not enough simply to say that Huon has been brought low. It must be demonstrated, and he must understand that." 'Must' in this case seems as much a logical requirement as a diplomatic imperative. But beyond that, Brennan seems inclined to let the quibbling occur later.
"Oh, he understands this well enough," Silhouette nods. "Bear in mind, he will not accept personal injury, of that I am sure. Incarceration, humiliation, certainly. But he will not agree to a repeat of Corwin's punishment."
Silhouette lost Brennan the moment she suggested any prominent role for Huon in any upcoming reconstruction work, and it shows quite clearly by the hard ice in his expression. "And in return, we offer Bleys' medical expertise for the tender loving care of Huon's wounds," he says, acidly. "One does not typically punish a vanquished enemy by informing him of the reconstruction efforts, much less consulting him. It's a transparently bad idea for more reasons than I have fingers. And forward discussions-- much less involvement with-- the Pattern, were never even on the table to start with. I'll pretend I didn't hear that suggestion."
Brennan looks as though he could go, but doesn't bother. Perhaps Conner found something in there worth working with.
Celina leads Fletcher through an over-height door that takes considerable body weight and balance to move smoothly open. The door might be sized to move a rider and horse through. Or a triton. Once the door closes again, she gestures to the soft seating and the sideboard loaded with food and drink. "I am glad to see you here. Please make yourself comfortable, but I don't want to get diverted from my other guest overlong. Did you two discuss how she'll get messages back to Huon?"
Fletcher declines food and drink for the moment. "I did not discuss the specifics with her. I understand she had her own discussions with Random. It truly was an accident that she and I happened to be traveling here at the same time. She seems to be very direct in pursuing her assignment here as quickly as possible. I would have preferred a more considered approach to negotiations. I know that now is not the happiest time for you or Rebma and did not expect to jump into things right away. Nonetheless, there are things of which I must appraise you lest you be at a disadvantage in dealing with Silhouette. I have a diplomatic pouch from your father." He sets the package down on a table. "But mostly I am here at Random's request. As the head of the family he considers Huon, and I suppose Silhouette, his responsibility. He wants to do right by the people of Rebma and see to it that Huon makes reparations. However, sitting in judgement on the blood of Oberon is still his exclusive right. I believe he had discussed this matter with our late cousin. I can see ways in which such an agreement can be of benefit to Rebma, Xanadu, and you personally."
He pauses to gauge Celina's initial reaction.
Celina remains standing as well. She smooths over a frown and counts her heartbeat for a bit at Fletcher's news. "Well, that makes my position here much harder so you better tell me how it can benefit me. I understand not killing them, but it would seem Rebma would want a thimble of blood for its pain." Her tone is rather low and grim but very civil. She's listening.
"It's not an easy situation I admit. But if you agree Random is prepared to help. I'm sure he would agree that Huon should provide restitution, perhaps even service to make amends. And eventually you're going to need support from outside Rebma. Formal recognition at the very least, possibly trade agreements, and an alliance against Gateway and the other enemies Silhouette might give up. Those are all things on Random's mind in this. And it buys you time."
"All right," Celina says, "if that's the extent of my uncle's advice, I won't turn a deaf ear. But I will be telling my people and incidentally anyone who decides to TRY to obliterate my city, that if they fail, I'll slap them with community service and a strong demand for apology. How do you think that will sit here? Yes, just about as you imagine.
"I thought Random might offer some insight into this man, Huon. Or at least the girl, Silhouette. You've given me little to work with." Celina reaches out and lays a hand on Fletcher's shoulder. "Not that I'm blaming the messenger. The situation was always going to be bad."
She gives him one more chance to add anything before looking at the door back to Court.
"Sorry I can't offer more specifics. Random isn't big on details. I've spent the last couple of days with Silhouette. For all that she's worked for Huon, I don't think she's really committed to him. Her own goals seem more about existential knowledge and power than about politics or secular power. Still, she's in it deep and Flora still won't talk to her." Fletcher gestures to the package on the table. "Maybe Corwin has better advice. Oh, and by the way, Random also asked me to recall Droit. I gather that he considers that a kindness. We can talk more details later. I just didn't want you get to pinned into anything by Silhouette right away."
Celina nods. "If you would like to exit to deal promptly with Droit, that's fine." She moves to the Paris pouch and opens it to see how much is in there and if her father scribbled a note on a personal send. If so.... she'll open that one now and read it shielded from Fletcher.
Fletcher excuses himself at this point, stating his intent to duck out, send Droit packing, and re-join Celina in the throne room.
The door that Celina and Fletcher went through opens slowly again. Fletcher exits first and with a half-wave exits the Court through the main doors.
The door remains ajar for a minute.
Then Celina glides back into the room slipping through the narrow opening, stopping a moment to push the door closed behind her with one backward thrust of a foot. She comes directly back to her guest. "Conner, have I missed any points you would like to summarize?" She nods a smile to Silhouette.
"We have established three important points as to what Huon would consider acceptable terms." Conner replies smoothly. "The first is that he will comply with the requirement of detailing his allies in the assault on Rebma. The second is that Huon wishes assurance that Rebma will protect him from those that would strike at him while humbled. Specifically, he wants assurance that Prince Bleys will not seek to continue their vendetta. Lastly, Huon is willing to endure any incarceration, humiliation or hard labor that Rebma sees fit but he will not submit to physical punishment on the order suffered by your father under Prince Eric."
"Ah, and here I thought my Father's case was the standard of family justice," Celina half smiles. "These are good points. Let me propose formula to them all. Rebma accepts the detailing of all his allies and their contributions. Rebma does not need to protect a Prince of Amber that has grievances forgiven, so his surrender to us includes an apology to Prince Bleys and that ends the vendetta. I am more than willing to talk to Prince Bleys to get that understanding." She nods to her three cousins. "Then we can accept what Huon is willing to endure for his complete surrender. Huon should suggest to us what scale of incarceration, humiliation and hard labor he feels fits the magnitude of his attempt to destroy us. I'd not like to offend him with a sentence." She looks at Silhouette. "Unless, Cousin, you can share that he has already given you such a guide? I would as soon send you back with a working compromise."
Brennan's been stoic through all this, game face on as soon as Celina stepped back in the room. When she mentions Bleys, Brennan catches her eye-- not in warning, but to remind her that he's got a Trump of Bleys and is willing to join that conversation when it comes.
It also seems that Brennan would be willing to suggest a scale of incarceration, if Silhouette isn't.
Silhouette smiles politely to the Queen. "He wishes to bring this to a close, forthwith. His most recent words to me were simply, 'Remind them that I will be expecting terms befitting a Prince of Amber.' I believe he will abide by whatever I believe will fulfill that humble request. Perhaps, something that will Illuminate him to the cost of his obsession, such as rebuilding destroyed structures or burial duty. Convincing him to come to terms with Bleys should not be difficult for me, as we have spoken on the subject at length. Once we are in agreement, I can contact him at any time. However, his reply may take a day or more and I can remain here during that period, if you desire."
She taps her chin lightly, "His only 'guidance' regarding your enemies is this: 'Gateway overreaches. I am loyal to the King as well, and do not want him to have too much trouble with the Gatwegians.'" She bookends this with a faint shrug.
Celina invests her tone trying to get something intrinsic across to Silhouette, whether she shares it with her Patron or no. "The women of Rebma consider creation a very personal matter. We may accept Huon's surrender but we cannot invite him to touch upon our burial arts or rebuild what has been destroyed. His hands are not clean even if we accept his penance. It would be befitting if Huon agreed to track the Loathsome Weapon to the ends of the Universe and destroy it in every part. That would Illuminate his hands and I think that promise a worthy pledge. The Gateway matter is modest by comparison and Random can decide that." Celina knows that Conner and Brennan have more and pauses.
Silhouette raises a brow at the mention of the "Loathsome Weapon." She's not entirely certain that the Queen is mocking her or that such a thing exists. Instead, she gives an acquiescing nod. "Of course, my Queen."
"I did have a thought on Huon's service to Rebma." Conner offers. "While it is true that many in the city and surrounding shells would not want Huon to touch what they hold dear, there is a population that may not be so prejudice. Have Huon rebuild Downside and the Triton quarters." He suggests. "Those of high rank would see Huon as a servant to the Tritons as fit humiliation while I think the Tritions would take it as an honor that the Queen would put such a resource to aid with their rebuilding. Plus it keeps him away from the center of court and surrounded by those equipped to protect or restrain Huon should the need arise."
Silhouette nods with a smile, "I trust Connor's judgment. This solution would also be in concordance with the Second Law. And the Prince could do with a touch of humility." She punctuates the last with a wry laugh.
"Shall I approach him with this arrangement, then? Or are there other stipulations you wish to include, my Queen?"
Celina nods to Silhouette. "Rest on it, Cousin. If you recall any other mentions of Huon's scale of regret, please send them to me. Tomorrow I will give you something more organized of these options to share with Huon. I like the progress we have made. Thank you for your contributions. If you have not made arrangements for a stay, please be our guest in the gallery of diplomacy suites. We shall speak again on morrow, Seiche (just after noon in Rebma)."
"I am your servant, my Queen. Náste kalá," Silhouette says, bowing her head.
Celina will ask Conner to escort Silhouette from Court if he would be so kind.
Conner offers Silhouette one of his brightest smiles and his arm. "Shall we, cousin?"
"Of course, Conner," Silhouette says, lightly placing her hand on his arm.
Corwin brings Garrett and Sir Firumbras, on the back of his horse, through the connection into Paris. They're in a cobbled courtyard, and several people are running up to Corwin--members of his royal guard, Garrett guesses. Not that Corwin seems concerned, although he steps back at his guards' suggestion and they remove Sir Firumbras from his horse.
"Garrett, would you like to explain who this is and what's going on?" Corwin asks, as the guards send for a medic and someone puts a folded coat under Sir Firumbras' head.
"Yes, sir," Garrett replies, unconsciously straightening his posture in the presence of the King of Paris. "Signy, Brita, Uncle Bleys, Ambrose and I were in Shadow to test the chain that we brought back from the Queen's rescue. We had to go quite far afield to do a proper test. Someplace beyond Ygg where the rocks moved on their own. Brita tried some kind of spell on the chain and it brought forth him." Garrett jerks his thumb back at the fallen knight.
"His name is Sir Firumbras. He says he's from Tirna Nog'th, but that he spent time in Paris in his youth. Sounds like he's been held captive for some unknown time, but we don't know by who. We couldn't rightly reckon how long he was there, but his memories and manner of speaking and style of dress seem to indicate he's quite old. We thought to try bringing him here first because he knew Paris and we wondered if perhaps you knew him."
Corwin shakes his head. "I don't know him." He looks at Sir Firumbras, who's trying to get up and not being permitted to by the guards. Kneeling beside the man, he says, "Easy. You're in Paris, and I'm Corwin. Prince Garrett here is my nephew; he brought you here."
"Where is the man Bleys, and the warmaid Brita?"
Corwin looks to Garrett for some extra clarification on that point. He doesn't seem to be moving for his Trump deck yet, so it's not an obvious emergency.
Garrett squats down next to Corwin. "Bleys was keeping the rocks under control for a while. We left because they started to get the better of him. I thought Brita and Signy were coming with me, but at the last minute, they went someplace else with Ambrose. Back to Aunt Fiona's lab, I reckon. That's where we started from."
"Do you have a Trump of any of them? Other than Bleys or Fiona?" Corwin asks Garrett. He sounds vaguely annoyed, but only vaguely so. Presumably for Firumbras' benefit, he adds, "Bleys is my brother." After a moment he adds, "but not Garrett's father. I have a number of brothers."
Garrett shakes his head at the question. "No, sir. It's an old deck," he answers.
Over his shoulder, he adds, for the benefit of the guards, "Get a stretcher and we'll get him inside." Turning back to Sir Firumbras and Garrett, he says, apparently continuing the train of thought he was on before the aside, "You're both welcome to remain in Paris for the time being. I think it'll take a while to sort this out."
"Indeed it will, Your Highness, because I have many questions." Sir Firumbras looks like he's dying to ask them but doesn't just yet.
"Thank you, Uncle. I'll try to hook back up with the others later on," Garrett says with a wry smile.
He turns to Firumbras. "Your questions, Sir?"
"This is not the Paris I remember, and saving your presences, good sirs, you are not the King I know. How can this be Paris?" Firumbras sounds more bewildered than suspicious, but then again, it must be bewildering to be dumped into a Paris he doesn't remember or recognize.
One of the guards is conferring with Corwin, so Garrett gets first crack at this.
Garrett frowns. "It's as I feared then," he says, sighing wearily. "Sir, this may be difficult to explain. I suspect that you have been held captive in some fixed point in time while time went on by without you. I had hoped that this Paris would spark some memory for you, or that the King here might recognize you from here or the other... er, I mean, his previous travels, but that doesn't appear to be the case.
"I fear, Sir, that the Paris you remember may be nothing but a distant memory," Garrett concludes as gently as he can, making ready to catch the knight if he should faint again.
The guard steps away from Corwin. "It's all right that you don't remember me; I don't know you either. Whatever old Paris there was is gone. Even Amber may fall in enough time." Something about that makes Corwin's mouth twitch. "But you're welcome to stay in the Paris that is for the moment. How did you get stuck inside that chain again?"
"I was betrayed," Sir Firumbras says, "by a woman and a magician, neither of whom I should have trusted."
They're bringing around a stretcher now, and Sir Firumbras looks like he'll protest. "Have you squired your brother or any of your cousins?" Corwin asks Garrett. "Can you help him get out of that?"
"Not formally yet, sir, but I reckon I can manage it," Garrett replies confidently, stepping forward to accomplish the task.
The horse is snorting and one of the guards has taken its reins, a bit warily.
Garrett takes a step out of his way to assist the guard. "Don't let him play you," he advises. "You're the boss. Hold him tight. Like this." The young prince grips the reins tightly under the stallion's chin and gives a slight tug, not roughly, but with authority. He hands the reins off to the guard, steps over to Firumbras and begins working through the buckles.
"This woman and magician," Garrett begins, not looking up from his work. "You say you shouldn't have trusted them. How did you meet them? Had you ever seen them before?"
"Armida I believed to be my friend, but her kinsman Idraote was unknown to me," Firumbras says, moving slowly but carefully as Garrett unbuckles him and removes the pieces of his armor. "I have battled the Eye in the Pyramid on behalf of King Carol, though, and I believe Idraote was of that order."
Between arranging and sitting for his portrait for Nadar and various business at court (some of which he might also be able to use to put Nadar in the way of commissions with the many beauties of Paris, like la Princesse Florimel and Corwin's maitresse-en-titre Aunt Felicity, or perhaps Solace's children, when she comes out of mourning), it seems as though time flies away from Ossian. Soon enough he is meeting with Silhouette and she and Fletcher are departing for Rebma.
Once he has reviewed the material he obtained from Nadar and the information Silhouette gave him, it is clear that the photographs Reid was altering were images of the same church in the 4eme arrondissement that Silhouette visited. It will be easy for him to get there on the Metro. If Ossian likes, Adreano will accompany him.
Ossian will definitely bring Adreano. What is the 4th arrondissement like? Ossian will approach the church carefully, he wants to take in the place before questioning the monks. What kind of God are they worshipping?
It's on the right bank of the Seine, as opposed to the left bank where most of the artists live. The City Hall, where the mayor works--Adreano tells Ossian that rumor suggests Corwin wants to make Bill Roth the Mayor as an honor--is in the 4th, as is the prefecture of police. There are a lot of "older" buildings in the area, whatever that means in Paris.
Adreano also tells Ossian another rumor: that there are many handsome men who would enjoy Ossian's company in the 4th. *wink*
The church is described as being at the Crossroad of the Elm. It's named as the church "of St. Ninian of Clervaux" which doesn't say what deity said saint was attached to.
Great. Ossian will first stop outside the church to admire the architecture (and study any religious symbols, etc on the outside) then he will try to enter the church.
(Adreano has been having a lot of fun at court, and equally as much fun in the cafes. If he's not careful, he'll make too many revolutionary friends and Corwin might be annoyed. Ossian may want to keep an eye on him. Either that or he's going to try to seduce Florimel, which might be worse.)
Ooh. Ossian would like both things, but he will soon snatch Adreano away anyway.
Adreano will pout if he doesn't get his shot at Flora.
Ossian will not stop him, but he will try to tell Adreano about the dangers involved. (like getting in a duel with Corwin, becoming Flora's plaything etc)
"Gladly I'd die for Flora's charms
If only I could die in Flora's arms."
Adreano frowns. "That's hackneyed. I'll come up with something better before I speak to her again. And what's the problem with being her plaything? I rather think that's the whole point of the exercise!" They're circling the church, examining the architecture.
Ossian laughs. "She can be very controlling. And she does not like me."
"Why not?" Adreano asks, apparently ready to leap to Ossian's defense.
"I cost her a child. She thought Reid's child was Lucas'. And I was a friend of Lucas. And I am liberal."
"If the child isn't Lucas', would she have wanted it?" Adreano shrugs. "Hasn't she got enough to do with the children he had in his marriage without gathering up all his bastards? How does his poor widow feel about that?" A crafty look comes over him. "I remember Solace Vesper as a pretty girl. How does she look in black?"
Ossian imagines Adreano is working on a rhyme for her now.
"Not bad. Although she likes me less than Flora does. I almost killed her once. By accident."
Adreano chides him, "You should be more careful with beautiful things, Ossian."
"Oh, the eternal search for the permanent. I hate it." Ossian says "The loss of beauty is very bittersweet, and in many cases more beautiful."
"I prefer to see the pretty girls lose their beauty the old-fashioned way, with the turning of the leaves," Adreano opines. "At least when I'm involved in them losing it."
Image of the church: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Facade_St-Gervais_St-Protais.jpg
Ossian notes that it appears to have been built in stages, for all that Paris itself can't be any older than when Corwin made it. Something about it reminds him vaguely of the church in Abford even though the architectural styles are different.
When Ossian and Adreano enter, they are met by a tall, sallow fellow in a robe that somehow reminds Ossian of the Paresh. (The robe moreso than the fellow in it.) "I am Brother Vigil," he says. "How may I help you?"
"I am Ossian, and this is Adreano. We are here out of curiosity. We know this is a place of worship. Just not what is worshipped here."
"The deity we serve here has many secret names and many secret faces. If you were to say he had a particular divine portfolio, it would be knowledge. Our sister order, who serve at the Priory of St. Plectrudis, worship the Goddess who is his consort," Brother Vigil explains. At the name of St. Plectrudis, he makes a little circling gesture of his hand, which Ossian might guess is a blessing of some sort.
Ossian smiles, and tries to make an appropriate return gesture "Is there a non-secret name for your God?"
The gesture is easy enough to master.
"Not a public name, other than 'the God'," Brother Vigil explains. "He has many sobriquets, however. 'The Maker' is chief among them. But he is generally referred to as 'the God'. His aspects are generally embodied in his saints, who are his children, as all beings with the divine spark are. His saints moreso for discerning his rede and developing the Orders in accordance with His will."
Ossian smiles "I guess St Ninian is one of them then? What is his story?"
Brother Vigil nods his agreement with the first question. "St. Ninian is the blessed abbot after whom our abbey in Paris is named. He was born in Clervaux, the last of our abbots to have come from that place. He left the holy library before it was destroyed, and went to Beveland, where he lived the rest of his life, establishing a strict rule there for the brothers at St. Wilibrord's. Our brothers from St. Wilibrord's lost their way on the road from Beveland and found themselves in Paris, the ancestral home of our faith, and here we are." He gestures around them to the church.
"That is fascinating." Ossian says "I believe you might have met my cousin Reid, who has ties to Clervaux?"
"You are another kinsman of Reid's?" Brother Vigil smiles broadly. "We are honored that the Castle takes such an interest in our humble church. We have met him, and hope to meet him again. Do you bring word of him?
Adreano is far more interested in the building, the glass, the organ in one of the chapels, and anything else instead of boring business about the names of gods. Either that or he's composing heroic couplets designed to get the attention of either Florimel or Solace.
Ossian looks around, trying to get all hints he can get.
There's a lot of stained glass, but the thing that seems to interest Adreano most at the moment is the organ in one of the chapels. He's heading in that direction, intending to slip by Brother Vigil, or at least get Brother Vigil to lead him over there.
And with the distraction of Brother Vigil, Adreano accomplishes this.
Last modified: 5 January 2011
