After Dinner

The staff at the Naval is efficient and effective, despite the apparent predilection on the part of the hiring manager for hiring the asymmetrically maimed. Caine greets several by name and nods to others. He sweeps into the club as if he owns the place and it's all Lucas can do to follow in his wake. Shortly, Lucas and Caine are in a private room with a nice fire and a snifter of brandy for each of them, just reaching drinkable temperature.

While it's possible that the club had advance notice of Caine's plans (there are, after all, a large number of young naval officers in the castle lately), it may just be that they are always prepared for the arrival of notables.

"So, what did you think of Martin's news, Lucas?"

"Brief and to the point," said Lucas. "Succinct. There are times when my Uncle Benedict's hand in his training shows in more than his swordplay."

He raises the balloon glass, swirls the amber liquid around slowly, the lowers his nose to the glass and inhales. Finding it good, he sips.

"Doubtless we shall learn more when the King returns. The news that he is alive, well and planning to do so is perhaps sufficient unto the day."

He sips again. If he has a burning desire to learn what his uncle has discovered, he is not so vulgar as to display it if Caine wishes to lead to it via social niceties.

"Yes, though I cannot decide if I will sleep better or worse knowing Random is returning tomorrow with whatever news he has. And I'm hopeful that the news won't spread too far outside of the family before the King is visible."

He sips his brandy.

"How is your wife recovering from her spell?"

Lucas glances at him. "You believe it was a spell? You're not inclined to set it at the feet of my gullibility when confronted by 'women's problems'?" He takes a delicate sip of his brandy. "Or are you holding the case 'Not Proven' until something else happens?

Caine nods his head, acknowledging Lucas's point.

"In actual fact," he adds, "she is making a good recovery. Still delicate, of course - she has not been strong since Phillippe was born. Which perhaps does lend some credence to the idea that it was simply a fainting fit.

"But ... you said you had undertaken investigations?"

"We're very weak in the magical defenses department, Lucas, dependant on allies that are not necessarily reliable. However, I can investigate better if I have a handle on one thing I cannot grasp."

He drinks the last of his brandy, and pulls a bell pull.

"Why Solace? If it was to get at you, why you? Who are your enemies?"

"Well," Lucas says, with a faint smile, "I very much doubt that I am universally beloved. But I agree - I wouldn't have thought I had enemies that powerful While as for Solace ... I find it hard to conceive of her as possessing enemies at all."

His face grows more serious, brooding. "I've wondered if it might have been a trial attack on our defences. A prod at the soft underbelly, if you like. It doesn't come much softer than Solace and my children ... "

He reaches into his jacket and abstracts his gold cigarette case marked with the Saint Cyr crest. Flipping it open, he offers the lblack cigarettes with their gold tips to Caine.

"Not a patch on Begman blacks," he says with a shrug. "But ... one tries."

Lucas cannot help but reflect this is appropriate treatment for the cigarette; at some point he will have to get out into a Shadow with decent tobacco and stock up ...

Caine takes one as well, and lights it, although he seems mostly indifferent to it after a few puffs.

He lights one for himself and blows a slow, meditative smoke ring.

"It has occurred to me that this could be connected to the rumours about Solace's origins," he says at last.

"Hmm. What's your take on those rumors, Lucas?"

A servant enters with fresh glasses and a recently opened bottle of brandy.

"The most popular of them place Eric as her father. It does not pass the realms of possibility that it was someone else in the family, of course."

Another smoke ring circles above his head lazily, for just an instant giving Lucas the appearance of a halo.

"I'm impressed by his fortitude, Uncle. Whoever he was - and that does not preclude Lord Vesper ... "

He waits for Caine to pour some brandy for him, and then swirls it around in his glass, watching the way the amber liquid shifts, and clings.

"There's always the possibility that she was attacked by someone who knew the truth. Perhaps it's time that I established it myself. Tell me, how would you recommend we test the proposition - without risking her upon a Pattern - which, co-incidentally, we singularly do not have?"

"That's a nontrivial question, and one I wish I had the answer to, Lucas. I personally favor Eric for the honor of Solace's paternity, if only because it fits with his known predilections. You don't remember Cambina's mother, do you? No, never mind. The only brother I can rule out is, of course, Corwin. And myself, if only because I was never that drunk." Caine shakes his head and takes a sip of the brandy.

Lucas smiles faintly, but then his face grows more serious.

"And you know of no non-lethal way to establish Solace's identity? Eric is in no position to tell us, and Lady Vesper will lie through her teeth if it suits her purposes."

"Of course, although it might be amusing to determine which answer would suit her purposes."

Caine rises from his chair to stand at the window and look out at Amber's denuded harbor, taking his drink with him. He turns back to Lucas and adds: "We might have to use a sorcerer to find out. If there's one we can trust."

"The two terms hardly seems synonymous," sighs Lucas. "I suppose ... Merlin, perhaps. Fiona. To be honest, I think Solace would be unhappy with either."

"Then we may have no way of telling."

He remains in his seat, but he is watching Caine uner his heavy-lidded eyes.

"What do you make of our King's return like this, Uncle?" he asks.

"I think he's staying out of Martin's way, so the Prince can thrash one of Random's knights without the King having to notice it. "

Caine watches the harbor and Lucas notices the faint sound of rain on the window.

"That's what happens when you act on stale intelligence."

Lucas winces. "Indeed.

"And our intelligence on what happened to Aisling? Has that ... freshened at all?"

He rises and moves to join his Uncle at the window.

"A rough night ahead, do you think?"

"It will be interesting to see how this news travels and who acts on it. I don't like having all my brothers out of Amber. It gives the wrong impression to the people about who is in control and to what degree."

Lucas tactfully decides not to remind his uncle that the population of Amber have recently had five years to get used to the reality of all the brothers being out of Amber (apart from the crippled Gerard).

"At first the news will percolate slowly," says Lucas. "Unless given assistance. Martin didn't say whether Random wanted this to be a secret return, did he? From the point of view of public order, an open and public return will be best. It reassures a people inclined to be panicky. I suppose that we are not altogether all that easy to live with at the best of times ...

"And this is not those times."

He casts a sidelong glance at his uncle.

Caine is nodding at the last bit.

"You have heard of the dreams, and the omens?"

"Bits and pieces. There were also dreams preying on the army as we returned. Do you think that Solace was attacked like that, except that she was awake at the time?"

"I don't know," says Lucas. "It's possible. At the moment, I'm discounting nothing ... but I'm beginning to think that I'd like to get her away from here. A voyage in Shadow ... another trade mission, perhaps. The children are old enough to come with us ... and we would travel with all due state. There'd be dangers, of course - but there may be greater dangers here in Amber.

"What do you think?"

"Most of us spend most of our time away from Amber, of course. I can't see us huddling together for security against unknown assailants in any case.

He pauses and then shrugs. "If you think it's safest to go, then by all means you should look out for yourself, but I'd make sure you have an escape route in case you're wrong about the attacker's motives and abilities."

Lucas nods. "It's at times like this that trumps would be useful," he says gloomily. "With Paige away, perhaps I should speak to Ossian."

"It's often useful to have a set. I wish I had a set of the younger generation. Perhaps I should speak to Ossian, myself." Caine returns to his chair and places his glass back in the warmer.

"Perhaps," agrees Lucas easily. "Although I believe the process is held to be somewhat lengthy. The days could be long before you hold a complete set of us all. And, of course, a request from the King would have priority ...

"Do you have any other advice for me, Uncle?"

"None that won't sound avuncular," Caine says blandly. "You will, of course, let me know if further events jog your memory concerning potential or actual attackers?"

Lucas bows over his brandy. "Of course," he says. "And thank you for your advice."

Supper is delicious, as usual. Mum has always been good at making tasty meals out of next to nothing. Garrett, relaxed now that he's home, entertains his sisters with grand descriptions of the palace and the library. He details how the Queen's personal bodyguard helped him pick out books and how Lord Lucas requested him by name to be his daughter's new riding instructor. For his mother's benefit, he carefully omits anything that might be controversial. Behind her back, however, he catches Donovan's eye with raised eyebrows and nods toward the door, making an appointment for an outdoor discussion later.

Donovan nods back.

After clearing his plate and bringing in wood and water for the night, he wraps his arms around his mother's waist from behind as she's doing the dishes and gives her an affectionate squeeze. "I'm going outside for a bit. Just out front, so don't send a search party," he grins.

"All right, but you come in for bed early. No going over to see Sparrow, you hear me?" Anna reaches around to ruffle his hair, but stops before she gets soapy water all over him.

Sparrow is very pretty, but she doesn't have almond eyes.

Garrett ducks the drips. "Heh. She's still mad at me anyway for blowing off a date to work a double shift."

With a playful arch of the eyebrows, Garrett grins as he heads out the door.

When he gets outside, his da is already waiting for him. "I've got a bit o' business at the stable. Walk with me and you can run back when we're done."

"Okay." Garrett falls into step beside Donovan. He speaks softly. "I reckon you know I left a lot out. What a wild ride it was up there." He shakes his head and sighs.

"The biggest thing I had to tell you is...um...Dame Lilly knows..." Garrett adds quickly, "I didn't mean to tell her. It's just...I heard the King was back and I...I panicked," he says, disgusted with himself. "By the time I realized I said too much, there was no way to back up. She's smart. She'd've figured it out." He pauses, looking at the ground. "So I told her."

Garrett looks sideways at his father to gauge his reaction. "She said she'd help me," he adds optimistically.

"The good of it is that she's in a position to do so, if she takes it into her mind to," Donovan says, sounding optimistic. "The bad of it is, she's in service to the Queen, and who knows how the Queen will take it?" He shrugs.

"I got the impression she doesn't want to tell the Queen until she speaks with the King first," Garrett notes.

"Well, there's nothing for it now. Done is done." His tone is resigned. "Wait a minute. What do you mean, you heard the King was back?"

"When I was in with Dame Lilly, a page brought her a note. She got real happy, and when I asked her about it, she said a "friend" had returned to Amber and was with the Queen. Stuff she said later made me think it was the King and when I guessed it, she didn't say I was wrong."

As an afterthought, Garrett adds, "I wonder if he brought Rowan back."

"Why do you think it was the king? Lilly's got other friends. There's that knight that's gone missing, and all of the redheads, and them that went with Prince Corwin. Could be any of them, and the Queen would want her notified, I bet." Donovan frowns.

"I don't think it was really a friend, Dad," says Garrett, convinced that he's right. "I think she just said that to cover up who it really was. See, I had said something like 'This is going to be a short lesson if the King doesn't come back'. I had told her I was giving history lessons to Faith and Maggie and that's why I was in the lib'ry." Garrett explains.

"Then she looks at me real intense, like she's decided to tell me a secret or something, and says 'Your lesson will not be cut short.' I remember that exactly. I put that with what the page said when he brought the note - 'The gentlman', so it had to be a man, 'is with the queen'. Who else is high-level enough to go right to the Queen as soon as he gets here?" Garrett says, very proud of his detective skills.

"And like I said, when I guessed it was the King, Dame Lilly didn't correct me, and I reckon she would've if I was wrong." Donovan's frown makes Garrett a little uncertain. He looks at his father inquiringly, "Wouldn't she?"

Donovan glares at Garrett. "If she's good enough to keep your secrets, she's good enough to keep the Queen's, i'n't she? Besides, it's not our place to speculate about the comings and goings of the likes of them." He bows his head angrily and his pace picks up.

Garrett is caught flat-footed by the change of pace and stung by the sudden anger. Forcing back a number of emotions, he trots to catch up.

After a moment, [Donovan] makes a conscious effort to slow down and looks back over at Garrett, a little less angrily. "Look, you're takin' a big chance here, and it worries me. I know you have to do it, but your ma's not the only one who can see it might come to a bad end. But done is done. If Dame Lilly says she's going to help you, we'll take her at her word."

Garrett matches Donovan's pace again. He says quietly, "I'm not tryin' to cause trouble, Dad, but you know why I have to do it. Much as I'd like to pretend it's not true, it is. I can't just ignore it. Yeah, I screwed up today and let the thought of facing Random throw me, but now I know to expect it, so I won't get thrown again."

"And at least I told someone who's discreet," Garrett continues. "For what it's worth, if you're taking her at her word, she said we should both handle this with caution. She doesn't want a big scandal any more than I do. With her help, perhaps I can talk to the King privately and let him decide what's to be done."

Donovan lets out a long breath and nods.

Garrett walks in silence for a moment, listening to the gravel crunch under his feet, thinking about how to bring up the next subject. He's already pissed Donovan off. He may as well keep going. "There's one other thing you're not going to be happy about. I spoke with Nestor, the librarian, when I was there. He was surprised I could read and impressed that I bothered to go up there." Garrett pauses, glancing at Donovan. "He offered me a job as a lib'ry assistant." Another pause as he stares firmly at the ground. "I don't know if I should take it."

Donovan stops. "You should think about it, probably take it. Either it'll be a better job, or it will all come out and you won't be doing any work at all. Not like that anyway."

Garrett scrunches up his nose. The prospect of permanent leisure doesn't appeal to him.

He looks around to make sure no one will hear the next bit. "And if the king doesn't mean to take you in after you talk with him, a better job than following me in the stables will be a boon to you."

Garrett looks at Donovan with a small, lop-sided smile. "Dad, there's nothing wrong with following you in the stables. It's what I've always wanted to do. Besides," he shrugs, chuckling, "if he doesn't take me in, he may lock me up, then it won't matter, will it?" he grins.

"Anyway, Nestor said he's willing to try me out for a few hours a week first, starting tomorrow after work. He may decide I'm not up to his standard. You know I can't write for shit. That'll make the decision real easy." Garrett says, idly scuffing gravel with his boot.

"I bet Nestor will shape your handwriting right up," says Donovan. "How many times have I told you chicken scratch won't do for the breeding records?" He slaps Garrett's shoulder good-naturedly.

"I know, I know," groans Garrett, rolling his eyes, but smiling.

"Are there any more surprises, or have I had enough near heart attacks for one evening?"

Garrett grins, plainly more relaxed now that he's unloaded everything. "Nothing major. You already heard about the riding lessons for Lady Hope. That was pretty much straight on.

"Oh, I sent a note to Lady Folly," Garrett remembers, speaking softly to keep his voice from carrying. "I want to talk to her about the symptoms of our common condition. I needed an excuse, so I told her Sprite hasn't been acting right and asked if she'd see me at the stable when she gets back. Sprite's fine, really. If she asks you about it, either go along or tell her I've gone mad, whatever you want, but please call me so I can talk to her."

Anticipating a warning, Garrett adds quickly, "Don't worry. I've learned me lesson. I'll be real careful how I ask it and I won't spook again."

Donovan nods. "All right, then, what are you going to do if she runs off and tells Prince Martin?"

Garrett sees this as more of a drill than a challenge. "Tells him what? That I asked about her family?" Garrett answers calmly. "Prince Martin knows Lady Folly and I chat when she comes down here. This time shouldn't be any different. I'll try to make it sound like one rung above small talk. I'll ask polite questions about her journey and her homeland first, then ease into the 'royal blood' stuff. I won't say anything about meself at all."

"And if she compares notes with Dame Lilly?" Donovan asks.

"Dame Lilly already knows I'm gonna talk to Lady Folly when she comes back," Garrett responds. "Given her concern about keeping the Queen out of this until the King knows, I can't imagine she'd reveal it to Lady Folly before it becomes common knowledge." Garrett considers telling Donovan that Dame Lilly was going to ask Lord Ossian some questions too, but decides against giving his father another worry.

Donovan nods. "I suppose it can't hurt too much. You just be careful what you say. Your mouth outran your brain with Dame Lilly. Don't let it happen again, all right?" He slaps Garrett on the back, not too hard. "Now you go back to you your mother so she won't worry, all right?"

"Yeah, I'm prob'ly in trouble already for coming this far," Garrett laughs. "How long you gonna be, in case she asks?"

"Oh, about an hour. Long enough for her to quit fretting after your story at dinner," Donovan says with a bit of a grin.

Garrett elbows Donovan affectionately as he passes to go back to the cottage. "See you at dawn, then. I'm beat." After a step, he turns and says with a warm smile, "Thanks, Dad," then heads off at a trot.