The note arrives by messenger. A young soldier, the man looks competent but not exemplary. He looks to Lilly as if he has served in combat, but not extensively.
"My Lady, The Protector requires your presence at Castle Avalon tomorrow for the noonday court."
Crossing the channel and reaching the castle across the Isle of Apples will take most of that time. Lilly has time to pack and say her goodbyes, but she needs to land on the Isle before nightfall tonight.
The young man seems to be waiting for her reply.
For several long seconds, the sword maiden simply stares at the man wondering if his disappearance would give her more than a few additional days here at home. Probably not. Chances are the protector would simply find his own way to her doorstep and his mood would certainly be more foul. Better to give in to his request.
Stifling a sigh, Lilly turns from the man and quickly pens a reply. She writes only, "I will be there. - L." It is enough. Neither she nor her father ever wasted words. Why begin now?
Lilly reseals the note before handing it back to the messenger. "Return this to my father," she says brusquely. "I shall settle my affairs here and make way for Castle Avalon as quickly as possible. If there is nothing else, you have my leave." Clearly she wishes to savor a few last moments of calm before rejoining the affairs of her kin.
The lad leaves, taking the note. There is enough traffic to the island that she will not need to travel with him.
Mallet comes walking down the hall. He doesn't speak, but it's clear that he's seen the soldier and has questions.
Lilly meets his eyes and manages a sad smile. As he nears, she reaches out and takes his hands in hers. "I've be summoned," she says quietly. Her grasp tightens slightly as she fights to keep from looking away. "The Protector has need of me, it would seem. As much as I wish to stay here, my family duties call and I..." Her voice falls off as emotion takes hold.
She takes a deep breath and gazes down at their joined hands. "It is time," Lilly mutters as she drops his hand and pulls him into a tentative embrace. It is a rare show of affection and a bit awkward on her part. "I shall miss you both. But I have been gone too long. People might be missing me."
And I might be missing them, she adds silently. The panicked notion that she might not be missed at all flits through her mind but she pushes it away. No more insecurities, she decides. At least not for the time being.
He nods and embraces her just as awkwardly. "We will miss you, but your duty is your own to carry. My guess is that something's happened. I'd heard rumors of a flare-up to the east."
Lilly pulls back opening up a comfortable distance between them. "I've heard nothing," she says. In that moment, she realizes that the sheer lack of rumor and gossip that has reached her ears falls far below the norm. Were they keeping things from her? And if so, why?
"What sort of flare up? What have you heard?"
Mallet smiles. "There hasn't been a smith within fifty miles of The Tecys that hasn't been making more weapons these last two weeks. Ore and refined metal costs are harder to get, and more boys are going off to learn to march in rows. Noblemen are coming to me for armor and weapons to give them an edge.
"War with the East is either happening, or coming. Weeks, daughter. Perhaps Months. Less, if your other father needs you now."
Lilly nods. "So it would seem. I'm glad I have taken the time to heal." She takes a deep breath. "If I am to meet my father on time, I need to leave this evening. Would it be possible for you to inspect my blade before then? If all of the noblemen are ensuring their arms are ready, I should probably do the same." A smile crosses her features as she says the last. For the first time in months, Lilly is looking forward to a fight.
Mallet nods. "Come to the forge. If we need to make any adjustments, I'll want you to work the bellows." Mallet knows that Jade would not approve, but this is not about Jade.
This triggers a wide grin from Lilly. "Of course, father," she says. She might as well take a few minutes to enjoy herself before leaving. Jade might not approve, but in this case, Lilly hopes she will understand. She would not want her daughter to go to war unprotected, after all. "I will go gather me things and meet you down there."
Mallet agrees and heads off, leaving Lilly to gather herself and her belongings alone.
Lilly's arrival had been unplanned at best. She had brought very little with her and quickly decides to leave in much the same fashion. Anything she needs can be acquired on the journey, she reminds herself. All she really requires is her blade. With that in mind, she gathers a minimal amount of things, the few trumps she owns, her weapons and not much more, and heads off to seek out Mallet at the forge.
The forge is hot and crowded with weapons and armor, some clearly recently used and in need of repair. Most of the work can be done by journeymen and apprentices, but some work requires the master's touch.
The only person in the forge when Lilly arrives is Mallet.
Lilly loves this place and can not keep her hands to herself. She reaches out and touches the various items as she passes being careful not to cut herself. As a child, she seldom emerged from the forge unscathed. Back then, she spent hours imagining the great epic battles that caused the damages to the weapons and armor. Next to sparring, it was her favorite activity. Now, she no longer has to imagine. She knows all too well.
"I want to travel light," she says to Mallet as she closes the distance between them. "I think it will just be me and my blade. Unless you have any other suggestions? I figure I should take advantage of Prince Benedict's favorite smith while I have the chance." Lilly smiles brightly as she lays her sword down before Mallet.
"If you get to the island tonight, you can sleep with the fishers of the Isola colony or if you walk on under the moon you might make it to Modest's place before midnight. Otherwise, you might want a blanket in case you need to sleep under the stars. I cannot advise you otherwise because anything might transpire after you meet with the Protector."
He takes her blade. "Stoke the fire, please. I can see better by the red glow."
Lilly nods, glad to have something to do with her hands. "I would like to believe that I know the Protector well enough to anticipate what might happen but I know that would be foolish. I doubt anyone knows him that well. Even in his presence, his face and body language give away very little. Still, I am trying not to be overly anxious. He has yet to give me more then I could handle. If he had, I wouldn't be standing here," she says as she works giving voice to her thoughts.
Mallet nods, looking along the blade for flaws and wear. "The Protector has worked at making you capable of facing anything. So have I. So has your mother. You've worked at it all your life. I have every confidence in you."
He picks up a cloth and a polishing stone. "The blade needs little work, just a bit of polish." He goes to work on it.
Lilly nods. "That is good to know. Thank you."
Mallet continues to work on the stone, giving Lilly the space and the time to decide if she has any other matters to bring up. Lilly thinks the blade needed little work, but that Mallet was using the excuse of the labor to spend a last few moments with her.
He finishes the sword and tells Lilly to try it.
Lilly takes the blade and deftly moves it through the air. Her smile returns. "It feels wonderful. Thank you." She sheathes the sword and continues. "I should go find Mother. If I left without saying goodbye you would never hear the end of it."
Jade is in the house, resting. She has recovered from whatever ailed her so the year before--the illness or poison or whatever was inflicted on her person by the family's enemies--but she has slowed since that time, and some of the weight has left her frame, never to return, Lilly suspects.
She looks over Lilly's clothing, the sword and the gear she's carrying. "Are you leaving already, Lilly?" she asks, her brow furrowing with concern.
Lilly manages a nod as she takes a deep breath. Talking to Mallet always came easier then talking to Jade. "The Protector has sent for me and I need to leave quickly if I am to make it there on time," she says, her voice resigned. "I am told there is war brewing. I can only assume that has something to do with it."
"I had thought the war was over." Jade shakes her head sadly. "Will your father go with you, or has the Protector not summoned him?" She sounds resigned, as if she expects to be deprived of them both.
"As far as I know, he has only requested my presence," Lilly answers honestly. Certainly Mallet would have mentioned if he had been summoned as well. "Perhaps this has nothing to do with war. Perhaps it has to do with my extended family. They are quite an interesting lot and you can never know what is going to happen with them."
Jade brightens a little at that thought. "Perhaps whatever they need you for will be over quickly, and you can come home again soon." She rises from her chair, slowly, and comes over to give Lilly a farewell embrace.
"Perhaps," Lilly agrees as she returns the embrace. She pulls back and smiles, her hands lingering on Jade's arms. "Let's just hope he's not summoning me home for an arranged marriage. I think I'd prefer war." It is obvious she is joking. In truth, both possibilities were equally terrifying to her right now.
There's a moment where Lilly thinks Jade might have swallowed a bug. "I should hope," she says, "that the Protector would summon me if that were the case. But write me if he plans such a thing and I'll come set him straight." Or, possibly, plan the wedding.
Lilly answers with a laugh. Better not to bring up Garrett or any of her other cousins around Jade. Her step-mother might get ideas in her head. If marriage or something even remotely like it is in her future, Lilly prefers to deal with it on her own - at least for now.
She takes her leave of both parents with a quick round of hugs and good-byes knowing she will miss them both but feeling better about going. Now that the initial annoyance of the summons has worn off, Lilly realizes she is actually looking forward to getting back to her duties. It takes all of a few minutes to finish gathering her things and saddle up. Then she is off to see the Protector.
(Lilly's plan is to stop as little as possible. While she might enjoy the solitude, she also doesn't want to waste time. Her plan is to simply rest under the stars when she does need to take the time. She figures this might be the last bit of calm and quiet she will be able to enjoy for the foreseeable future.)
Lilly reaches the coast in short order. She sees the cairn that indicates the shortest crossing, by the beach-side caves. The 200 feet tall cliffs of Avalon face her, a mere 20 or so miles away on the horizon. It's getting dark, and there aren't any boats in sight.
Lilly contemplates an evening swim but decides against it. Chances are that wouldn't end well.
[Actually, it's just a bit closer than the English Channel, and Lilly has a damn fine Fire score, so if you want to, the major negative is wetness. That and having to punch sharks in the nose.]
Instead, she heads down the shoreline and tries to find a nice quiet spot to camp for the night. Surely in the morning she will be able to either find a boat she can acquire hidden away in the brushes or find one to hire.
Lilly finds a spot and beds down. It is her first night without a bed since the fight with Chantico, but she adapts rapidly to the change. She awakens refreshed in the early morning false-dawn light.
Further up the coast, Lilly can see villagers putting out small fishing boats. Not all villages along the coast are friendly to Avalon.
Since this is the closest option, Lilly decides to try it first. She heads towards the village and begins to seek out viable options for crossing. Hopefuly secruing a ship will be as simple as passing a few coins.
Lilly's arrival is greeted as any natural disaster might be. Children run and elders show up. It's a fishing village, which means the fishermen are armed with improvised fishing tools as weapons. They're not fighting men, here, and are in no way interested in making the first move against the woman with the expensive looking sword who seems to know how to use it.
From what Lilly overhears, Thari isn't their native language. Probably some of them know it, at least enough for trade.
Looking at them, Lilly thinks she could probably kill them all and just take their boats, if she wanted to.
She stifles a sigh. Massacring sheep is not exactly how she planned on spending her morning. "I need a boat," she says, her voice clear and confident. Her right hand finds the hilt of her sword. It is more of a gesture then an overt threat but it should be enough, she hopes, to garner a response.
From the side of the crowd, an old woman speaks up, her Thari is perhaps better than the others. "You pay? Pay for boat? Need boat to fish, fish to eat, eat to live!"
Lilly looks at the woman and attempts to soften her voice. "I will pay for the boat," she says. "Not to fish but to live. I must go to the protector. My family is depending upon it." Not a lie but perhaps a trifle better then the truth.
She does not look happy to hear the Protectors name, and crosses her arms on in front of her. "Ten Huo."
The boat might be worth one.
"Three, " Lilly replies without pause. The money is meaningless to her but, as rule, her foster parents always taught her barter.
The bargaining continues until a price is reached. The villagers accept her payment and clear the way for Lilly to take posession of her new boat.
It smells of fish and it looks like it's normally crewed by at least three sailors, but it will take her to the isle.
Folly and Martin have been riding together for some long time, trying to get to Benedict's Avalon, and Martin is getting annoyed. There's a waterway he doesn't remember between here and there, and not a small one that they could ride across, either. So they're riding along a sandy beach, looking for boats or some such that will get them across the water: a task that's becoming increasingly burdensome with a heavily pregnant rider.
"Someone's blocking us," Martin opines. "Could be him, could be someone else."
Folly grunts an acknowledgement. Though it has become difficult for her to concentrate on anything but how uncomfortable it is to ride a horse while pregnant, she makes an effort to pay attention to the feel of their surroundings, to any traces of fhe family power she might be able to sense.
It's difficult for Folly to tell, not because [of her discomfort] so much as because she's working with a new sense and her experience with it isn't so great. It's like trying to sort out meaningful information with her nose; if there's blocking going on, it's subtle enough that she can't experience it directly with her senses. On the other hand, Martin's doing the shifting, which is necessary since he's the one who knows where they're going, and therefore he's also in a position to experience any opposition directly.
As they ride along, they see a village ahead: a fishing village, with a woman with a sword preparing what looks like an ill-maintained fishing boat to cast off. None of the villagers are helping her.
"Hey, is that Lilly?" Martin asks Folly, pointing at the woman.
Folly squints into the twilight. "...Maybe?" she ventures after a long moment. "Er.... Cover your ears a minute."
She brings her hands up to her mouth and whistles a few bars of a trilling folk tune, loudly enough to carry through the night air to the figure at the edge of the water.
Lilly begins to prepare the boat to cast off. It is the work of a few minutes, and she is almost prepared when a shadow appears out of place. She looks up and sees two horses cresting a dune. The riders are coming down the beach rather than from the village. Lilly cannot cast off before they reach her, if that is her intent.
The lead rider, who sits his horse like a fighter, is pointing at her.
The second rider is a heavily pregnant woman.
The woman stares in her direction for a long moment, then brings her hands up to her mouth. But rather than hailing Lilly in a more traditional way, she whistles a few shrill bars of a trilling folk tune.
It is nearly ubiquitous in shadow, but in Amber it's called "The Ballad of the Water-Crossers." Perhaps they're Amberites trying to be clever about identifying themselves and their intentions.
On the other hand, maybe they're from one of the many shadows where that particular tune carries significantly bawdier lyrics, and they're hitting on her.
Lilly straightens her stance and takes a few steps towards the pair. Fighter or not, Lilly has faith in her abilities. Besides, she currently has issues with few outside of her family. Even if they are looking for her, chances are good that it is nothing fight worthy. Or so she hopes.
"Hail the boat," a familiar voice says. "Lilly, is that you?" It sounds like Martin to Lilly.
A genuine smile crosses Lilly's lips. One piece of advice her father gave her, and it appears Martin has all ready disregarded it. She hopes they are happy but quickly decides it is none of her business either way. "Who else?," she hollers back and waits for them to close the distance. Once they are within near she adds, "I am very glad to see you both. Folly, you look well." As she says the last, her voice gives away her surprise.
"...By which I suspect you mean 'well-rounded'," Folly replies with a grin. She nods at the boat and asks, wistfully, "Er, does that thing ride any smoother than a horse?"
"And will it get us to Avalon, more importantly?" Martin asks. "We're on our way to see your father, and he doesn't seem to be in the mood for visitors."
Folly adds, "Do you know if there's some reason he'd be particularly averse to visitors right now -- more than usual, I mean?"
Lilly shakes her head. "I have not been in direct contact with him. He sent a note to me requesting my presence and I responded. So I believe he is expecting me today." She gives a shrug. "I suppose the reason he wants to see me may be the same as the his reason for not wanting visitors. My foster father speculates it may have something to do with impending war but I can not offer much more then that." Leave it to Benedict to simultaneously request her presence and then make it difficult to get there. This might all just be an elaborate test.
"As for the boat," Lilly continues. "I have seen better. But I think it will take us where we need to go. And it will certainly be easier with a second person to help row."
Folly's brow creases with concern when Lilly mentions war; but at that last she grins impishly, turns to Martin, and says in a stage whisper, "I think she means you. Although," she adds in a more conversational tone that includes Lilly as well, "I'll bet the wee nubbin would have a go if we let her." She shifts her weight (awkwardly, like a walrus trying to get comfortable in a tree) in preparation to dismount, but waits for Martin to give her a hand down.
Martin moves to give Folly the help she needs to dismount. "No getting seasick," he tells her as he puts her on the ground.
"Yeah, we'll see," Folly replies with a wry smile -- but she squeezes his hand reassuringly.
He turns back to Lilly. "What's this about impending war? I didn't know there was trouble in this part of the world."
He starts to unload the saddlebags from the horses and move them to the boat.
As Folly steadies the horses, she scans the sky, checking for the moon and its phase here. "Didn't Benedict say something about guarding the back way to Tir?"
"I would have thought Ben would have said something if he was calling up the troops, but maybe he did and we're just out of the loop." Martin frowns, obviously misliking that idea.
"If anyone is out of the loop, it is most certainly yours truly," Lilly replies. "I have been spending most of my time, more or less, recovering from my hip injury and ignoring almost all else."
Lilly turns to Martin. "I think your probably know something of my foster parents since you have spent some time on the Tecys so this should make some sense to you." She smiles then and gives another shrug as she redirects her comments to the pair of them. "My foster mother obviously did not think bringing me word of impending fighting would help things so she kept as much from me as she could. After I was summoned though, Mallet, my foster father," she adds for Folly's sake, "told me what he knew and that was very little. It seems there has been an increase in demand for armor and weapons. Smiths across the land have been very busy. Something is brewing though he really could not identify what that something is. He only seemed certain that a large battle loomed close."
Reflexively, Folly runs a finger along the outline of the trump case stashed securely in her jacket pocket. "I suppose guns don't work here?" she asks. To Lilly in may sound like a casual inquiry; but Martin, who knows her very well, can probably hear the unspoken end of the thought: ...because now would be a good time to find one if we think we might need it.
Martin pauses in transferring their goods to the boat to shrug. "I never tested that theory and even if I had, that was a long time ago. Things might be different now." He has everything moved in another trip. "And if there's military force coming, particularly Moonriders, I'd rather not hang around on this beach. Shall we get a move on?"
Lilly nods. "I have to agree. This is not the most defensible locale. And beyond that, I am fairly certain Martin and I cannot simultaneously fight off Moonriders and deliver a child. I think we need to worry about keeping the little safe right now as well." Folly can clearly see that Lilly is far more comfortable with the idea of being caught off guard by Moonriders then by being caught off guard with an impending birth.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don't think I'm likely to pop right in the boat," Folly says, albeit with less surety than Lilly might perhaps prefer. Folly scratches the horses behind the ears and whispers a few gentle words to them before releasing them, confident that they will find their way to safety. She joins Martin at the boat and good-naturedly mutters something about ballast as he helps her climb in and get situated.
Martin and Lilly both have enough experience with boats--Martin in particular seems to have quite a bit--that they can make it across the channel to the other shore in decent time. It's far enough for anyone so inclined to feel seasick, but not too terribly far. Martin's sailing experience helps because the wind seems to be against them, but the tacking to the left and the right is annoying him and after a couple of turns back and forth, he suggests they take to the oars.
Lilly nods and without questions makes the transition. She's actually looking forward to the workout.
Rowing, they're able to make good time. Martin is clearly used to this sort of exercise and, amazingly, has enough breath left to sing. He spends the distance working on a composition he's been playing around with for a while, a song about becoming a pirate whose lyrics are still coming together.
Folly enthusiastically joins in on harmony, and occasionally suggests a new line or a tweak of word-choice. She's particularly adept at coming up with lyrics that on the surface seem quite innocent, but as soon as you get the pun or think about the tertiary meaning of this or that word, become violet-wiltingly bawdy.
If Folly is feeling seasick, she's doing a good job of hiding it -- perhaps she's using the music to distract herself -- although once or twice she lets out a little grunt of discomfort and rubs a spot on her belly.
After a while, they beach the boat on the far side of the channel. "I think I can find the way from here," Martin offers, looking at Lilly.
Again Lily nods. "You will have a better chance of finding it then I. Though I have been here before, it has been many years. My father isn't the sort that really seems to enjoy visits and such. Usually he would just come see me to evaluate my progress." Lilly seems unaware of the bitterness that touches the edges of her voice.
Martin glances at Folly, who knows him well enough to read some discomfort in his expression. He had more of Benedict's raising than Benedict's own daughter, to all appearances.
"Let me rustle up some horses," he says, and moves away a little to do so. Perhaps half a minute later, he frowns and turns back to Lilly and Folly. "Not happening," he says. "It's not working here." He doesn't sound very surprised, or pleased.
"Well, that does at least save me the indignity of trying to maneuver myself back onto a horse," Folly offers, with more than merely forced cheerfulness. "If we can't shift our way there, I suppose there's nothing for it but to head toward high ground -- carefully -- and see whether either of you recognize anything from there." She pauses, looks up at the sky, and adds, "If it helps, I think the stars are moving... sorta... thataway." She gestures up the coast at a slight angle to the shoreline.
After another, longer pause, Folly says, "Of course, if this really is THAT sort of place, he already knows we're here." She glances at Lilly, gauging her reaction.
"If I know my father at all, then I would suspect that he must know we are nearby. In my case, in particular. I was summoned after all. And he knows I am not one to ignore such a thing," she shrugs.
Lilly then turns her full attention to Folly and looks her over from head to toe. Maybe she should have let Jade explain a bit more of this childbirth stuff to her when she was growing up. It just never seemed particularly important until right now. Hesitantly, so as not to offend, she asks, "Is it safe for you to be doing all of this walking? I mean, I really don't know the first thing about birthing and I will admit the idea of it makes me a bit... well... I think the best word might be... uncomfortable? It just seems so unnatural to me." She smiles weakly, knowing how that sounds but also knowing that for her, it is an absolute truth.
Folly chews the side of her tongue to keep from asking whether Lilly sprang directly from her father's head or something. For all she knows, it could have been rather like that: stranger things happen in this family. This branch in particular.
What she says instead is, "At this stage, walking's actually a lot better for me than riding -- it's good for the circulation, and a lot less jostly." She leaves it to Lilly to infer why 'jostly' might be bad right now. "And it might help me work off some of these -- oof! -- cramps." She makes a face and rubs at her belly again, then gestures to Martin to lead on if he's ready.
After a moment, she adds for Lilly's benefit, "And if it really comes down to it, all I really should need is someone to stand at the other end and catch. While putting up with any invective I might hurl his way for this being all his fault." She grins. "Although that does remind me -- on a scale of 'oh-god-no' to 'oh-god-yes', how enthused do you think your foster family's people would be to put up a heavily-pregnant cousin on their foster-daughter's side for a couple of weeks?"
"I have the catching part covered, but unfortunately the blesser of our fertility isn't here to answer for his part in this," Martin says drily as he offers Folly his hand, more in a gesture of affection than one of formality or support. "The Tecys have taken care of me in the past when I was injured, but that was before Lilly's time, probably. They always wanted me to stay longer than I thought was necessary to heal up. I don't know how they are now, though." He looks to Lilly, ready to defer to her on that question.
"They always want me to stay longer then necessary to heal up," Lilly answers without a pause then smiles. "But, I suppose I can admit that it is because they are good hearted and loving in nature and not just annoying." She gives a shrug, thinks on it a moment then nods. "I would say, they will probably take you in with open arms. My foster mother in particular has a soft spot and fondness for babies...." She pauses. "On second thought if you do go there, it may put some ideas in Jade's head. Ideas I am certainly not ready for her to have!" Lilly laughs, a sound not often heard around family. "But who know? Maybe it will satisfy her for a while and keep her off of the whole when are you going to settle down and find a nice man thing. It might do us both some good."
Folly laughs, too, in wry sympathy: she knows from mothers whose plans for you don't always line up with your own. "We'll play it by ear, then. At the very least it sounds like we'd have at least one ally who'd be happy to have us stay for a little while if we need to. Even if there are rumors of impending war. We can always make a quick exit if it comes to that." She squeezes Martin's hand. "And I promise to make sure," she says to Lilly, "to casually mention how I am MUCH OLDER than you" -- which isn't at all true by Amberite standards, but is true enough otherwise -- "lest your foster mother starts getting any ideas...."
While they're talking, Martin begins to lead them on in the direction where he remembers the city being. They walk for a couple of miles before coming across a mounted patrol, which Lilly recognizes as being of the Protector's colors.
Since Lilly's the one who was actually summoned, Folly lets her take the lead in talking to the patrol. Folly does, however, pay close attention to their body language and general demeanor: does this seem more "routine patrol" or "high alert"?
"Those are my father's colors," Lilly says in a flat tone. "He is expecting. Shall we approach?" She, too, watches the group closely trying to determine if this is a routine patrol or if they have assumed a more defensive posture. If they do not recognize her, she would prefer not to be seen as a threat and thus remains cautious.
Neither Folly nor Lilly think that the patrol is entirely nominal, but they're not so trigger-happy that they seem likely to attack without warning. Martin seems to have absorbed the mood as well and nods once, tersely.
As they approach the patrol, one of the patrol riders calls out "Hello the road. Who goes there, and what is your business?" He does not seem to immediately recognize Lilly, but not all of Benedict's men would.
Folly takes a step forward and in a friendly, nonthreatening but confident tone says, "We are kinsmen of Prince Benedict, seeking an audience." There's a slight hesitation before the title, as she's unsure of his preferred moniker in this place. She glances at Martin and Lilly to see what they have to add.
"The Protector," Martin adds quickly by way of clarification.
"He is expecting us," Lilly adds and quickly decides not to reveal her heritage. Sometimes it is better not to be Benedict's daughter. She closely watches the reaction of the group and mentally prepares to reach for her sword at the first sign of trouble.
The patrol riders nod, as if this isn't particularly unexpected. Folly doesn't feel that the patrol was looking for them or notified they were coming; just that they are not surprised to see people looking for the Protector. "Lionel here will escort you." One of the riders breaks away to join the group.
He looks down at Folly. "Madam, do you need to ride?" he asks. From the sound of his voice, he's the junior on the patrol, and this is probably why he got assigned the job of taking people back to base.
Folly smiles reassuringly up at the rider. "Walking is probably better for me than riding, if it's not too far," she says. But then she wonders how the poor kid would react if she suddenly decided to go into early (well, early-ish) labor halfway up the trail and adds belatedly, "Er, how far is it?"
Lilly relaxes slightly and patiently awaits Lionel's response.
Lionel points down the shore to where the Protector's castle is visible above a cliff. The reason Martin and Lilly landed where they did was so they could walk up the shore to the cliff instead of trying to climb it with a pregnant woman.
"Maybe five miles?" Lionel says, not sounding very certain. Lilly thinks that's a decent estimate.
Folly looks at the trail, and then at the horse, and then at the trail again; the ensuing mental calculus is reflected on her face in a nose-wrinkly expression that is probably a lot more comical than she intends it to be. Finally she says, "I think I can manage on foot," and smiles again at Lionel, not quite as reassuringly this time. Almost immediately she begins patting her pockets until she comes up with a half-eaten packet of trail mix, which seems to cheer her up quite a bit. She motions for the rider to lead on.
Lilly matches her pace to Folly's. "Five miles is a good estimate," she says to her cousins. Gently she places a hand on Folly's shoulder and adds, "And if, at any point, you need to stop, rest or whatever, let us know. Trust me when I say no one will hold it against you. I know how stubborn I can be when it comes to needing assistance or rest or whatever and I am fairly certain that is a strong family trait that needs to be completely overridden."
Martin nods once to Lilly's suggestion, without adding anything further.
Folly smiles at Lilly. "Good advice -- although if I'm inclined to press on, it's less because I don't want to hold everyone up and more because the sooner we get there, the sooner there will be more food." She shakes her almost-empty trail mix packet and adds in a low voice that won't carry to the rider, "Honestly I was hoping to find a sandwich, but Martin's right -- there's not much to work with here."
The rest of the patrol continues on its way and Lionel escorts the group up the cliffside. It takes them perhaps three hours to make their way up at a reasonable pace for Folly, in part because they spend part of the time on a very defensible stairway that Martin is nodding at various choke points and features of. (Longer if Folly needs to rest.) This route is familiar to Lilly as well.
As they arrive at the well-guarded and heavily defended entry to the Protector's castle, they are hailed again by guards. Lionel announces them as visitors to see the Protector and looks to them to give their names.
Lilly looks to her companions and gives a slight shrug, "I am Dame Lilly, daughter of the Protector. As I stated previously, I believe my father is expecting me." She quickly decides not to divulge any information on her companions since she does not know if they are traveling openly or not. Best to let them decide what information is handed out.
Folly looks at Martin and gives a small nod: she'll leave it to him to make their introductions since he knows the proper forms of address here, and perhaps he knows what to say so that Benedict will know it's really him and not some impostor. It certainly has nothing to do with the fact that she's now embarrassingly out-of-breath after all those stairs. No sirree.
Martin is looking at Folly, and since she doesn't seem to have a preference, he shrugs. "I'm Martin of Rebma--" which Folly and Lilly guess might be the name he'd be known under here "--nephew to the Protector, and the Lady Folly is my wife. The Protector's not expecting us just now, but our travels have brought us this way, and I thought to call on him. We met my cousin on the way and decided to travel together."
This seems a satisfactory answer and all are admitted to the castle and given rooms to freshen up before meeting the Protector for the evening meal.
Folly does manage to find another small snack among their bags to tide her over until dinner. Other than that and changing from her horse-grimey clothes to something more presentable, she is as ready as she is going to get for a meal with Benedict.
The snack is one Martin distinctly remembers packing, and he frowns when she finds it.
Martin picks Amber-style formal clothes and suggests Folly choose the same from her travelling wardrobe, not that her pregnancy clothes are going to vary too much from something that would pass, at least for plain clothes, in Amber. Skinny maternity jeans aren't going to work, but any flowy skirt kind of dress should be all right.
Folly digs out a dress that is perhaps more exuberantly patterned than the prevailing local style but is otherwise appropriate. Once she has changed out of her layered traveling clothes and into something with simpler lines, it is apparent that her bump is sitting lower than it was even a day or two ago.
They arrive before either Benedict or Lilly and are announced in the style Martin gave at the gate. A number of Benedict's retainers have already gathered at the table; some of them seem vaguely acquainted with Martin, particularly the older ones. Martin is happy to introduce them to Folly, but his stories seem to consist of things he did in Shadow and not so much about events in Amber or Xanadu.
Following Martin's lead, Folly talks mostly about her background as a musician if anyone asks her about about herself. She pays particular attention to the general character of the people they meet -- whether they overall seem noticeably more inclined to be jovial or reserved, practical or fanciful, warm or shrewd -- figuring there might be some clue to the recent disposition of their host in the company he chooses to keep.
The group is military. Folly is not the only woman but she is one of a very short list of civilians. Their current collective posture might be described as relaxed but watchful. Once it becomes clear Martin is known to enough of them, they thaw to him a little, but nobody seems to be talking about what they're doing. They're interested in Folly and her background in a polite sort of way but mostly as an acceptable topic of conversation.
After a while, the herald announces the arrival of the Protector. Everyone rises, including Martin. Benedict, looking much like himself and definitely with only one arm, sweeps into the room, accompanied by an aide, and takes his place at the head of the table. Everyone seats themselves again once Benedict sits down. He looks not exactly harried, but very busy.
"We have guests," Benedict says in his laconic way.
Martin, who was slow to seat himself, deliberately so, nods, once. "My father sends his greetings. Our road took us this way and I thought to speak with you briefly before we moved on."
Benedict nods, also once, but it's a very different gesture on him. He turns his gaze to Folly.
"We thank you for receiving us, and for your hospitality," Folly adds, falling into the rhythms (if not the precise words) of the older, more formal forms of exchange used in Amber. "We had hoped to seek your advice on an item or two. We didn't realize you were preparing for---"
Her reply is interrupted by another arrival.
Lilly takes her time dressing for dinner. Truth be told, she is in no hurry to see her father. More often then not, the meeting between them as of late have always ended in war or fighting or some other impending form of doom. Hopefully, this day will be different. Yet somehow, Lilly doubts that. She dresses simply, in an Amber style gown in her father's colors. He blade stays at her side unless instructed otherwise. When procrastination is not longer an option, Lilly rushed down to the dining room with the hope that her late arrival will be forgiven if not overlooked.
Benedict nods to Lilly as she enters.
She returns the nod but does not interupt.
"War," says Benedict, finishing Folly's sentence. "It is not uncommon in my realm, in no small part because the place bends itself to my concerns."
The retainers at the dinner all look unsurprised at this comment. It seems the war is not news.
"Nevertheless it seems odd how well my opponents are coordinating their actions. It is ... disturbing." His partial arm, slung across his chest as usual, twitches slightly as he speaks.
He looks at the table. "Shall we dine?" The head table has four places at it.
Lilly nods again. "I am sure that the three of us have worked up quite an appetite during our travel. The way seemed to be a bit more difficult then usual. Is that part of you preparations?" As she speaks, Lilly begins to move towards the head table.
Folly, who very nearly lost all other trains of thought at the word 'dine', nevertheless manages to add, "And who are your opponents, if I may ask?"
She follows Martin's lead on the seating arrangements.
Martin helps Folly seat herself in accordance with some signal he seems to have gotten from Benedict and then seats himself next to her.
Benedict gestures for everyone to sit. The head table is close to the others, but separate enough that the family can speak in some privacy. "Thule and her allies. The Queen of Thule is attempting to push southwards and her normal opponents in the Hirulean isles are currently allied with her by marriage, so we are facing a stronger group of marauders than we've faced in some time. I had hoped my General Arbor would be able to take them, but he died in a surprise attack.
"They have my attention, now. I want to study her tactics, which means my forces will need to fight her while I observe." He glances at Lilly but says nothing.
Lilly meets his eyes momentarily and instantly wonders what else he wishes to observe. But she also says nothing and allows Folly to continue the conversation.
There is the slightest hesitation as Folly works out the capitalization of "general arbor" (and carefully sets aside the mental image of an army done in by a clever arrangement of trees), but then she nods and asks, "What are their weapons of choice, traditionally?" It's clear from her tone that she is genuinely curious -- about precisely what sorts of battles her uncle wishes to study; about whether this is but a shadow of some larger, realer battle looming on the horizon -- but if the answer also gives her a sense of just how far away she needs to be standing when things start blowing up, so much the better.
The question causes Lilly to sit up a little straighter and lean in just slightly. The answer could be very important later on. Any of her own questions, because she suddenly seems to have many, can wait for the moment.
Benedict deftly cuts four slices of bread with his good hand and puts one in front of each of his guests. "It's an interesting question. Gunpowder doesn't work here, so it's a mixture. Thulians are seafarers so they use weapons well-suited to ship-to-ship combat: knives and light swords. The Hiruleans are use mounted warfare techniques: lances, shields, armor, and such. The Hiruleans seem to have been making tremendous progress recently on new techniques. They have a very clever kind of greek fire that they've been using for the past five years or so."
The steward arrives with wine, and Benedict takes the interruption to use his bread as a food source rather than a pointing device.
"So, since before the recent war with our distant relatives, then?" Folly asks -- carefully phrasing the question so that Benedict can answer it nonverbally while eating, if he prefers -- before gratefully taking a big bite of her own bread. Though she does not say the word 'Sundering' (due to the proximity of non-Family), it may be pretty clear that that's really what she is asking about.
Lilly maintains her attentiveness while nibbling on her own slice of bread. "That seems to be quite the extensive history," she adds. In some ways she is relieved to hear of the longevity of the feud.
Benedict nods, although it's unclear if he is responding to Folly or Lilly. "My brothers tell me they think I would not be happy in a peaceful realm. My title here is 'Protector', which implies two other things which must exist: a threat and something to protect. There is always a threat, even if it changes in nature over time." He finishes his bread.
"I have a number of tasks that need to be done in the near term, and so am pleased to have you call upon me at this time. I may have a favor to ask of you." He looks over to Folly, then to Martin. "If this castle is not safe, then no place is, but the island and the lands around it may not be so at all times. You are welcome to stay, given that reality. Also, I am likely to be away in the near future."
"Thank you," Folly says after finishing off her own bread. "I won't be much for heavy physical activity for the next little while, obviously, but my other talents are at your disposal while we're here. I hope I can be of service, and not merely as part of the 'something to protect'."
Under the table, her hand finds Martin's. "We did want to ask your advice on a few matters familial and... metaphysical, perhaps. I hope you'll have a few minutes to spare for that before you have to be away, if you'd rather not discuss such topics over dinner."
Lilly keeps most of her attention thoroughly focused on her meal. Her father sent for her. Therefore, she will dutifully wait until he gets around to addressing such things. She learned a long time ago that there is no point in trying to rush Benedict.That only leads to frustration. Best to enjoy the meal and the company and hopefully garner something of use from the conversation.
Benedict looks directly at Folly, his expression unusually unreadable. "I am no expert on our metaphysical realities, but I can attempt to answer your questions. Perhaps after dinner, over drinks in my study. For now, I wish to continue to talk of the upcoming business, if it is not too distressing in your state."
"Please do," Folly replies graciously, with a little smile to reassure him that the topic does not bother her. "And thank you."
He turns towards his daughter. "Lilly how is your recovery coming? I was reluctant to send for you, in case you could not travel."
Her father's concern brings a genuine smile to Lilly's lips. "I am feeling much stronger," she answers honestly. "I think I probably could have left the Tecys several days, if not a week or two earlier. But Jade was concerned. She wished me to stay and so I did." She pauses momentarily and gives a slight shrug. "Truth be told, I think I was beginning to become a bit restless. In a few more days, I more then likely would have set out for some distant shores on my own. So your timing was actually quite superb."
He nods, "I'm glad for the occasional serendipitous turn of events. Do you think you're up to sparring with Martin tonight or tomorrow? It will help me determine how I can use your assistance. As is often the case in these matters, there is too much for one to do alone."
Martin is leaving that one to Lilly to field. Perhaps he remembers how their last spar ended.
Lilly takes a moment to process the idea then slowly nods. "It might do me some good to stretch a few muscles and hone a few instincts. Most of my work-outs needed to be conducted out of Jade's sight while I was healing so open sparring in the courtyards was completely out of the question. However, I should think both Martin and Folly should get a say in this. Particularly after the ending of our last session," she looks to Martin as she says the last. "I still feel rather bad about that."
"Perhaps you could try sparring with something a little less... pointy," Folly offers with a wry smile, though her fingers tighten gently, protectively around Martin's. She knows he can handle himself, but even the thought of him sustaining a significant injury NOW, when... well, it makes her stomach do a little flip-flop. "A little inked sponge on the end of a blunted weapon would still let you see where you get your touches in."
Martin gives Folly a look that's fond but resigned. "It'll be okay. But if it makes everybody feel better, we'll go with practice blades instead of live steel."
Folly's return look is sheepish but grateful. To Lilly and Benedict, she says by way of apology, "This is my version of nesting, apparently: trying to keep all the wet bits inside my husband, at least for the time being." The words are carefully chosen to avoid direct mention of either limb loss or blood loss. "But...." Now it's her turn to look a bit resigned. "Whatever you all think is best."
"Honestly, Folly, I know I was taught from a very young age not to even think about the difference between practice blades and live steel during sparring sessions. Both types of weapons need to be respected in their own right." Truth told, Lilly knows both she and Martin could easily kill someone with a practice blade if needed. But she leaves that part out. "I am certain that my father will see what he needs to see regardless of the weapons we use. After all, this is more about discerning my current state of readiness then anything else." She looks to Benedict for confirmation of that last statement.
Benedict nods. "I assumed that you would be able to avoid a repetition of that. There is no requirement of first blood, merely an exhibition of skill, condition, and endurance. You may, if you wish, spar unarmed."
"I always like to assume that I can keep from stabbing my cousins but so far that has not really worked out for me." Lilly grins faintly and gives a slight shrug then continues on. "But in all seriousness, I think I'd rather face Martin with some sort of weapon in hand, even if that means using a simple practice blade. I really do prefer having the advantage." The grin broadens and it is clearly she has just issued something of a challenge.
Folly considers suggesting "fashion magazine" as the weapon of choice: accidental stabbings would be less likely (though she has no doubt Martin at least could kill someone with a magazine if he wanted to), and it would be interesting to see if such a weapon would automatically provoke Lilly's flinch reflex -- or gag reflex....
In the end, though, she keeps the thought to herself (except for the tiny smirk she can't quite hold at bay) and leaves the implicit question for Martin to field.
"I'm fine with working unarmed or with a weapon, so if Lilly would rather spar with a practice blade, let's do that," Martin suggests.
Folly catches Lilly's gaze if she can and gives a small nod of acquiescence: she's fine with this plan.
"Practice blades it is then," Lilly declares with a smile. "Now that we have settled that. What else do I need to know about this 'war'? I assume it is safe for Folly to be here right now, yes?"
Benedict nods. "It's my hope that my castle, in the midst of my forces, is reasonably secure, yes. If I thought otherwise, I would have sent them onwards by Trump."
Without interrupting, Folly gives Lilly a wry smile and pats the belt-pouch that holds her trumps: If things get bad, she can still make a quick escape that way if she needs to. Benedict continues:
"The war, then, is the normal generational cycle for the locals. You were born during the last such, actually. These are warlike and fractious peoples, and little wars are the norm, with large conflicts taking place four or five times a century. I protect those here, in Avalon, as I am oath-bound to do.
"There will be time to speak of the specifics and my needs after I evaluate your strengths and recovery. I had presumed that I would be relying on your participation, but Prince Martin's presence gives me more options to consider."
He cuts his meat and eats a hearty portion, using a unique knife-fork that seems built especially for him to use with one hand.
Martin doesn't have anything to add, although he's definitely keeping an eye on Folly's reaction.
Folly has kept her expression studiously neutral, particularly there at the end. What she says now is, "You mentioned the... Hiruleans?... have developed a kind of greek fire. I think I've got an idea what you mean by that, but... how do they deploy it in battle? What kind of range has it got? And is there any good defense against it besides inventing asbestos suits and pumphouse technology?" Martin can probably guess that she's trying to figure out how she can be most useful (where "useful" equates to minimizing the risk of harm). If she has to organize the bucket brigade herself to put out her smouldering cousins, she will -- but she'd rather help them not catch on fire in the first place.
Benedict looks at her like a precocious child who has asked a good question. "It's based on easily harvested oils, not refined petroleum, so it doesn't quite have the sticking power it might, but it floats and it does stick long enough to start a fire or potentially kill a man. The Hiruleans have bows and arrows to fire it, and since they have mangonels on their ships, they may also have the ability to deliver it at a distance."
He cuts some more meat from his steak and looks from Folly to Martin and Lilly. "Intelligence gathering is one of the things I need to have done."
Folly takes a large bite of her own food, perhaps to help keep her own reaction in check until Martin has a chance to respond. Or possibly (likely, even) she's still just really hungry.
Lilly nods, "I will gladly be of service where I can. I've been laid up for far too long and I am rather intrigued by all of this." She pauses and sips at her drink. "What sort of intelligence has been gathered thus far? Is the terrain such that a small scouting expedition can get close enough to garner useful information?" Clearly, she has more questions but she pauses all the same to keep from getting too far ahead of herself.
Benedict smiles. "It's as likely to be naval combat at ground based. We know the terrain well, there are maps that are five centuries old, but where they are gathering, which lords are with them, how solid the alliance is at high levels. What we need on that front is someone to infiltrate and learn how they intend to pursue the war.
"In addition, we need military action, skirmishers against their forces to keep them from moving too quickly. I will be negotiating with my allies to get more troops, and we need to protect this castle. There's much to be done."
He looks at his guests' empty plates. "If you are finished, we can retire to my study to discuss this in more detail."
Martin has mostly been quiet because he's been putting away Amberite quantities of food. He looks like he could polish off another serving of dinner, but he'll go with if everyone else is done.
Folly, too, probably wouldn't complain if presented with more food; but she nods her assent to moving on to the study. She's more anxious to get to the serious discussion than to get a little more food.
Last modified: 8 July 2012