Jerod looks about momentarily as he listens to the sounds of the castle, memories serving to provide reference to everything going on. Even this early in the morning, there was always something happening. It was different from Amber as well, the distant sound and scent of the surf replaced with deeper tones, the depths of the oceans making themselves felt.
But it was not enough to distract him for long as he rested, propped upon on his elbow as he watched Carina sleeping beside him. He smiled for a moment, wondering how many currents would be changing today when the news got out. His smile grew broader as he thought about the shockwaves from the simple comments sure to circulate from the servants, of arrivals to the archivist's quarters but no departures. At least, not before morning.
Lamell would be keeping track of the court for his mother, he reminded himself. Those who even now would be scrambling to line up their eligible daughters. He would need to get caught up again on local affairs, Jerod thought.
With that thought in mind Jerod slipped out of bed, careful not to awaken his companion as he padded over to his belongings. He picked up the pouch and began to walk over to the sitting room before stopping. Best to get dressed, he thought as he collected his clothes, reminding himself that not everyone was as comfortable with nudity as Rebmans were.
And after a few minutes, the doors to the bedroom quietly closed, Jerod sat at the table sifting through the cards. Hopeful as ever, he nonetheless was a bit annoyed to find Random not answering. Probably the kind's perogative, but he wondered briefly if dad hadn't given him a dud on that card. But he did not stop on that thought and picked up the next one in line, the impassive countenance of Uncle Benedict staring out from the card.
"Time for me to get a history lesson I think, uncle." Jerod says quietly, concentrating on the card.
The contact comes, but not the full picture just yet. "Who?" says Benedict's voice.
"Your nephew Jerod." Jerod replies. "In Rebma."
"Ah, yes. You went there from Paris. How stands the city?"
"The same as when I left it." Jerod replies. "Though a few of the more obnoxious courtiers have not been obliging and stepped into a tidal pool like I had hoped.
"I had hoped to ask a question or two of you, uncle. Your name has come up in regards to a matter of ancient history, one that seems to require a re-inspection. Tritons."
"Are you alone, Jerod? And are there any mirrored surfaces of any kind in the room with you?"
Jerod smiles. "I have made sure there are not. I have no desire to have my grandmother eavesdropping. She will not like my digging into this matter but it must be done. As for my companion, she is asleep in the other room."
"I know little of the Tritons, and most of my information is long out of date. Is there some reason to be concerned about them?" Jerod gets a faint whiff of sea air. Benedict may be on a boat.
"There may be." Jerod says, concentrating on the scent. He is curious why Benedict (if that is in fact who he is speaking to) does not reveal himself. "Speak to the ruler of Paris when next you see him...ask him about his new daughter. She had a run-in with them, but on a level that is disturbing. I am concerned that the control that is placed upon them might not be as complete as had been previously thought. While I would approve of their release, the most probable events involving the release of subjugated groups tend to be the more violent ones. I would prefer not to have to deal with that outcome. Enough dead have been buried.
"What I desire is the long past, not the present. Can you give me even the little that you know? And is there anyone else who would know more?"
"There are many who know more, I suspect. Some of whom might even tell you fairly. The triton's distant past is tied to my late brothers, many years ago. I did not involve myself then. Your great- grandmother had a lighter hand with them than your grandmother, but I think that was tied to how she succeeded to the sapphire throne."
"Great grandmother is not spoken of much within the family. She is as elusive as Oberon's past to those of us amongst the youngers." Jerod replies. "Was Moins family? And how did she succeed to the throne? I have wondered recently as to who created the Pattern here."
"Moins was Queen of Rebma as Oberon was King of Amber. I was referring to your grandmother's ascension, which came after an interregnum and a regency. It is my understanding that controlling the Tritons is a gift of her line. Who do you think is interfering in her control?"
Jerod shakes his head. "I do not know. But given the nature of our enemies, grandfather's death is certain to have caused a few to come out of the woodwork. Some are certain to be connected. I remember there being some question as to grandmother's position after Moins' death. She was not immediately available. That alone makes me wonder how connected to the line she is. I wonder if there might be another of her line hiding in the Shadows."
He pauses. "Oberon was King of Amber. Did he actually create it?" he asks. There is an intensity to Jerod's question, awaiting an answer for many other questions.
"I would be disappointed but not surprised. Our family has been more fertile than perhaps is wise. It is only with Corwin's revelation that it has become known that patterns were created things. I'm not even sure your father, who had Dworkin's notes, knew that." Benedict's head is swaying slightly against the wooden shelves in the background.
Jerod nods, the answer not entirely satisfying. But it is enough for him to continue to believe. There are other ways to be sure. He will have to find a way to test his theory.
"I suspect he did not. Dad and Corwin seemed more interested in dealing with each other than with home it seemed. Amber was just the bauble to prove who had won the round.
"You said there were others who might know more. Any of them alive?"
Benedict shakes his head. "Most are not. Reid may know of his father's involvement with them. You may have to dig around locally for good information."
"I have no trump of Reid." Jerod says. "I will have to see if I can track him down after he gets back from the expedition to retrieve Brita. Assuming he comes back to Amber at all."
Benedict nods.
Jerod looks at his uncle for a moment, remembering all the stories from his other uncles, having had no other chance to meet this one until now. He nods to himself, knowing this will probably be the last time he will see him as well...if the stories are all true.
"What will you do now uncle?" he asks. "Now that Amber descends...."
"I? I have my gardens to tend to, places that are special to me. I will continue as I have, I suspect."
"Then I will not disturb you further uncle." Jerod says before smiling. "Though I might hit you up one day for an analysis of the battle in Chaos. Martin promised to take me along when you gave him your evaluation, but we got busy."
"Perhaps I shall write a monograph."
"And how would you deliver it uncle?" Jerod asks. "Water and ink don't mix. But gardens and a good book do."
Benedict says, "I hope that you shall not stay underwater forever, nephew. Rebma is not the only alternative to Amber. If nothing else, there is the prospect of books in gardens above the surface to recommend the drier sort of Kingdom."
"Your daughter has spoken occasionally of that land. Enough to make one curious. I shall consider it uncle. Until then." Jerod says, before closing the link.
Benedict nods and the link closes.
After putting away Benedict's trump, Jerod withdraws the last of the three, staring for a moment at the image of his father's rival. He stares for a moment at the black and silver image, smiling humourlessly at the similarity to his own dress. Dad had always wondered why he chose those colours, though he had never met his uncle before.
"Too much like each other you both were. And far too different to ever reconcile." Jerod says, looking at the image of Eric sitting on the top of the deck by his hand. "More is the pity."
Then he shakes his head, clearing his thoughts to concentrate.
Once he obtains the contact, the conversation is short though polite.
Jerod informs Corwin, without using Corwin's name out loud, that he is home and investigating the matter of mutual interest that they had previously discussed. If there was anything of significance he would forward it. He also asks that Corwin pass his thoughts on to his newly acquired aunt and that he hopes she is well.
Once done, he breaks the contact and shuffles the cards back into the leather pouch before securing it inside his clothes (an interior pocket of his court jacket). Then he pauses, noting the time and figuring, with a smile...just enough time to wake someone special in a nice comfortable way before it's time for breakfast with mom.
Captain Castor sends a message in the morning to be sure Vere is ready for him. He arrives in closer to lunch than breakfast, perhaps because he doesn't know the hours civilians keep and doesn't want to disturb the Queen's guest too early.
After a brief round of pleasantries about the currents and the court, Castor says, "Her Majesty has advised me that you will be recruiting here in Amber, and has asked me to assist you. How may I do that?"
"Thank you, Captain. Let me explain the situation first. As you may know, the problem your people called the Black Tide was a universal phenomenon, affecting many kingdoms. In my mother's realm, it led to us making common cause with a traditional enemy, the Witch Queens of the mainland. They practice dark sorcery, human sacrifice, and give their men almost no rights of any kind. Yet, the things that came from the Black Forest were far worse, and it seemed reasonable to put our differences aside and fight alongside fellow humans against fell creatures that threatened us all.
"However, it appears that some time after my father took me from my mother's land to Amber, to assist in that city's defense, my mother's chancellor came to feel that our realm should also return to the more primitive rites that the Witch Queens follow. She made a treaty of some sort with them, betrayed her sacred oath to my mother, and rose in rebellion.
"I learned of this just recently, and it is my duty to return to give my mother what aid I can. Your queen has graciously granted permission to me to raise a war band from among your people. I feel that of all the realms I have visited, Rebma is the most like unto the Isles, and the men of Rebma most like to be willing to fight for her, and for a chance to settle there as heroes and men of great honour after the rebellion is put down."
"The queen has put restrictions upon this, she may have told you of them already. I may recruit no more than 100 men, all 30 years of age or greater. They must be unmarried and have the permission of their mothers or sisters. Her majesty insisted that husbandprice, fair and equitable by the current standards of Rebma, must be guaranteed for any man who does not wish to return, and I have said that I will also guarantee said husbandprice for any man who gives his life in my service. And they may not be recruited from among debtors or other criminals, not that I wished to seek men from such a source in any case. There are other minor conditions as well, we can go over them in more detail later, but they do not affect the actual recruitment.
"My thought is that we should recruit first a core of ten officers, each of whom will be responsible for nine men. I would be grateful for you assistance in finding these men, men of military skill who long for the chance to prove themselves in battle against a mighty foe. Men who can see the honour in fighting for a rightful queen against a traitorous adviser, who might find themselves hemmed in by tradition and circumstance in Rebma, and look with favour on the chance to gain glory in a new homeland. Although, obviously, the choice of whether to remain in the Isles after the war will be left to each individual man, and I guarantee the return of all who choose not to remain."
Vere settles back in his chair and smiles at Castor. "I am certain you have questions, Captain. Please, feel free to ask. You can give me the greatest assistance by fully understanding the situation."
"I volunteer, your highness. May I serve in your war band?" While his voice seems casual, Vere can tell that he is somewhat nervous.
Vere's smile becomes a wide welcoming grin, and he stands and clasps Castor's hand. "I did not presume to ask," he says, "But I greatly hoped that you would make that request. As I said, you remind me of my good friend Commander Siege, and I look forward to the two of you meeting." He releases the captain's hand and claps him on the shoulder. "Will there be a problem with the head of your family? I cannot take you without her permission, you know." His gaze is friendly and open, and it's perfectly clear that he is absolutely delighted at Castor's offer.
Beneath this, [Vere]'s carefully weighing the nervousness in Castor's voice, the way his eyes move, and trying to determine whether the nervousness he senses is that of a man concerned that he might not be accepted for a task he dearly wants, that of a man who makes an offer he knows his family will object to, or that of a man who is making the offer because he was ordered to do so before the interview.
He relaxes when Vere accepts. It is most likely the first option.
"While I have every faith in my sister's good judgement, I would be pleased to introduce you to her and let her discuss the matter with you personally. Perhaps you could dine at our house sometime this week? In either case, I am you liaison to the forces here whom you wish to recruit, either as appointed by the crown or as a member of your band."
"Excellent, Captain," Vere replies. "I shall be happy to be your guest as soon as your sister wishes. If you would speak to her on this, and get back to me?" He returns to his seat. "Now, let us turn our attention back to the matter of the recruitment. Immediately, we need to seek our other officers. I shall also be speaking to members of the royal family, and seeking their recommendations." With a thin smile he adds, "It may well be that they will seek to foist one or more spies upon us, of course. I shall not seek too strongly to prevent that, anyone they send as a spy will need to be an effective fighter to survive the coming war and report back to their mistress, and that shall be to our benefit. I would like to have your recommendations as well, men who have skill in war and leadership, and might be interested in the offer I make. 'Twould be best if we start with a list of more than we wish, so that we can winnow it down and choose the best from an anxious field. What think you, Captain, are there enough men in Rebma who would be interested in the challenge I offer?"
He looks to the side for a moment, clearly thinking. "It's hard to say. Some of their sisters will be cautious because they do not wish to miss opportunity provided by the road to Paris. A re-opening of the tradewaters would stretch the families. I think... I think that it will be second-tier families where we will find the bulk of our troops. That's reasonable. They're the ones who need to gamble on opportunities."
"I can recommend a few officers, but we'll need to take extra care with senior men."
"Agreed. Let us go over a list of candidates and discuss their merits and failings. I will be speaking with members of the royal family later, and asking for their recommendations as well." Vere tilts his head to one side and regards Castor for a moment, then says, "Rumors will begin circulating almost immediately. Perhaps we can speed them alone. Might you be available for a sparring session later this afternoon or tomorrow morning? It will give us a measure of each other, and should attract attention, which can be used to spark excitement about my efforts."
"That sounds excellent. I know just who to tell to make sure the rumors spread appropriately."
The two men speak for some time, discussing characteristics of various officers and the merits of different leadership and fighting styles. They end up with a list of desirable officers and some prospective men.
Once they are finished Vere stands, and clasps Castor's forearm. "I appreciate you joining me," he says. "To be honest, I hoped you would do so during that first conversation we had on the way to the palace." He releases Castor's arm and steps back. "I must meet Duke Jerod now. Would you prefer to meet to spar soon after the midday meal, or later? When would there be the largest crowd of observers?"
"Evening would be best. You can dine in the officer's mess afterwards and meet some of the officers of the Seaward Garrison HQ."
"Excellent. I will meet you this evening. If they are available, I will attempt to meet with members of the royal family this afternoon after I speak with his grace the duke. Thank you, Castor, I am very pleased to have you with me."
"I will also speak with my sister and arrange a time for you to meet her. Perhaps later this evening? I know we are on an accelerated schedule."
"If that is convenient for her," Vere replies with a smile. "I am anxious to be away as quickly as possible. My cousins managed to destroy the attack fleet that was being put together by Vianis, but I do not know how quickly the Chancellor will be able to recover from that setback. The sooner we arrive the better."
As soon as his meeting with Castor is over Vere leaves his room and locates a castle servant. Explaining that the duke had requested that Vere attend upon him just before Seiche, Vere asks to be directed to wherever his grace might currently be located.
The servant will bow and nod, having been fortunate enough to have seen the Duke during their movement through the castle and bids his lordship to follow.
The servant's path takes Vere through a number of central passageways and large chambers, apparently in a generally outward and upward direction towards a terrace. During the trip, Vere will have an opportunity to see many people, garbed in what he notices is a surprising range of colours and styles. From colors bright and noticeable to all the way to those which are subtle and mysterious - as different as the wearers of those garbs. As he views the varying displays, Vere would be reminded of the impressive displays of sea life from his own home - displays meant to attract prey, to frighten predators, to display dominance, to bluff, and to conceal.
The large majority of them would appear to be courtiers, women to a large extent and there is no lack of curiousity to Queen's new guest. And reflected in the face of each person they see something different in Vere. Threat, promise, contempt, opportunity, envy, even avarice.
Vere follows the servant serenely, with a calm expression and a graceful tread. It is clear that he has already come to understand the differences in how one must move in Rebma to retain one's dignity. He does not acknowledge the various people they pass, unless any of them make a point of acknowledging him, in which case he returns a dignified bow of the head and continues without a pause. He does not appear to be taking any special notice of his surroundings, a watcher might well assume that he passed this way every day.
But the trip through the periphery of Court takes Vere upwards and away. The terrace is large and well laid out, allowing a magnificent vista of the city, the subtle shadings of the currents contrasting with the abundant sea life that abounds, though it certain the best terrace would be reserved for the Queen. The few tables are clearly reserved for those in positions of great prominence and except for one, all are occupied by women.
As Vere climbs the steps Jerod watches from his table, having wasted no time in commandeering the best view on the terrace. There were perks to being royalty and Jerod saw no reason not to use them when it was advantageous. The rumours would abound of this meeting though few could guess what might be said. But those rumours would be of value later and the more people that know Jerod has returned, the better.
Rising from his chair, Jerod bids Vere a morning greeting, his hands moving in circular forward/backward movement that causes his cloak to open and close in the currents, a ritualistic motion it would seem. Vere can see Jerod is armed as he has been previously but bears no other weapons.
Vere duplicates the move precisely. Jerod can see that Vere is not wearing his sword and dagger today.
"Welcome Vere. I trust your room was satisfactory?" Jerod says, nodding to the servant that they may depart before motioning Vere, as the honoured guest, to the best chair at the table with the finest view, before taking his own seat.
"I found it very conducive to thought," Vere replies. "Thank you for your concern." He sits and lets his eyes drift lazily around the room, not appearing to stop on any particular individuals. He tilts his head slightly to one side and then the other, judging the acoustics of the room, and determining just how difficult it would be for anyone in the room to overhear a conversation at this table.
Jerod smiles as Vere looks around the terrace, open as it is to the outside world, and the considerable distances to the other tables. "So long as we keep our voices at a reasonable level, no one will hear...unless you're the fish out there." he says, motioning to the cityscape outside. "Magic might work but we do not have to worry about the mirrors at least. They can be such an annoyance at times. This place is where one goes to make a statement without making a sound."
"That is very good to hear," Vere replies with a friendly smile and a relaxed posture, intended for anyone watching. "Unfortunately, I fear that the questions I have and the names I will mention should not be overheard by anyone. I did promise not to cause uproar in your grandmother's realm without your permission, after all."
"Have no fear of uproars without permission. I'll be certain to cause a few of my own in the next little while. I'll make that you've gotten your troops and be on your way before I really piss off my grandmother." Jerod says. "You wished to see me? I would have thought you'd be eager to start collecting your forces. You have had a singular honour granted to you. Others are certain to try to push for the same once they find out what's up."
Vere nods. "I have already spoken with Captain Castor, who has asked to join me. If you could tell me what you know of him, and ask around to learn more, I would be appreciative. I am minded to make him my second, but I wish to know as well as may be that he is no spy, and that he can handle the position as well as I believe he can, before I do that. However, that can be handled at another time in the near future. More immediately important is something to do with Rebma's past that I wish to inquire upon. Can you tell me if the names Baroness Cornelia, Lady of the Neapward Banks, and Calimatia the Countess of the Western Shallows mean anything to you, especially in connection with the Libertist movement?"
Jerod frowns. "How did you come by those names?" he asks.
Vere is silent for a long moment. Finally he says, "Understand that what I tell you now cannot be proved, at least not by me. My source cannot come forth and testify. Yet I feel the source is reliable. At some point in the past, Baroness Cornelia made a decision to come out in court in favour of the Libertist cause. My understanding is that she had opposed it until this point. The Countess, who strongly opposes freedom for the tritons, had the Baroness illegally arrested." Vere pauses, and studies the lovely view for a few seconds. "I do not know if this was done with or without the queen's knowledge. In any case, Baroness Cornelia was imprisoned for a short period in the palace. Then two men came to her, possibly surface-dwellers recently arrived, from the way they moved. They carried her out of the palace in a sheet, to an underground cavern. There, they broke her neck."
Vere falls silent again. "It is possible that the intention was to have her murder made to look as though it were done by the Libertists, since the Baroness' change of heart was not yet public knowledge. I do not know what occurred after the murder. I know little more, other than the names of a small number of those who support the Libertist cause. Khela, Cassia, Livinia. And Martin." Vere's eyes search Jerod's face. "I cannot tarry here, Jerod, you know that. And I do not wish to bring troubles to your grandmother's throne after she has granted me her favour. Yet, I cannot say that I can easily turn my back upon this knowledge that I have."
"The position of Neapward Banks has remained unfilled since the time of the Libertists." Jerod says. "As for the others, some of them are known to me. Those who claimed to be Libertists reportedly wished to give freedom to the Tritons, though there were many others within their ranks who supported republican reforms, and the inevitable anarchist elements. That alone doomed it to defeat and the Queen had it thoroughly suppressed.
"Martin's name as a supporter is interesting though not unexpected. I would not be surprised if Vialle's name comes up in there somewhere, given what I know of their relationship. As for the Triton's themselves, I once wondered about their position as apparent slaves. I have recently begun to...re-evaluate that idea. Things are not as they appear." Jerod says, before leaning forward. "If this woman was murdered, there is little to prove it unless we have a body. After all this time, proving the linkage of murder to the Countess would be even harder. And even if you could, we are smart enough to know that the interests of the state take precedence over individual rights when it comes down to hard, cold reality. Why would you pursue this?"
"It is an old wrong that has not been set right," Vere responds. "And I may be the only person not involved who knows the truth. Does that not lay a responsibility upon my shoulders? More personally, certain similarities to the events in my own homeland have not escaped me. A trusted adviser to the queen, doing evil in an effort to retain the old traditions that some would modify. I wonder if in some ways the Isles might be a reflection of Rebma, and the evils of my mother's Chancellor a reflection of those the Countess? If that is so, then could not defeating her plans here aid in defeating the Chancellor there?"
Jerod looks over at a servant hovering near the terrace entrance, motions for drinks and watches them depart.
"Possibly, though the vagaries of Shadow do not dictate that there is a direct relationship between Dannan and Rebma. Remember that a reflection changes moment to moment , and subject to our interpretation and our desires. The betrayal of your Chancellor could easily be explained by events in Amber. Remember that the central theme of Amber's fall is betrayal." Jerod says. "It would be incumbent on you to learn more about this situation. You have only side of the story - you would need to have two more before you would understand it all. Only then would you know if justice, such as it is, could be served. Reality may dictate that it cannot be.
"But as venues to pursue into the Triton situation, it could serve to stir up the waters, and see what flows free from the bottom."
Vere nods. "It seemed you should know this information. It is your homeland, and you know the situation. More information cannot hurt, and may aid you in whatever seems best to you to do. And I could not help but think you might be offended were I not to tell you of matters of import that I discovered." He frowns slightly, "Such as the conversation I had with the queen last night. She subtly sounded me out on what I knew of the current situation in Amber. And unless I am very much mistaken it was clear that her knowledge is much more thorough and recent than mine. Whatever system to gather information her majesty had in place before the Sundering, it appears to be functioning one more. She spoke of the fall of Amber, and yet of the fresh centuries to come in the reign of Random. Almost as though those are two separate things. And she spoke of Random's kingdom as a blank slate, and used a word, 'Xanadu,' that I am not familiar with. She said it was a literary reference that appeals to Random. I could not determine if it is a proper name or a descriptive noun."
Jerod nods, smiling at the reference, remembering the word from a series of books that his father had made him read when he had first come to Amber. He had not appreciated the value of surfacer literature at that time, though it soon changed.
"You are safer to question than I, being a stranger. That and having just acceded to your request, it makes you more likely to answer her truthfully. Despite my supposed new favor, she is not likely to trust me anytime soon."
"Xanadu is a fictional place, mentioned in the ballad of a Shadow dweller called Kublai Khan. My father made me read it. Many are the references to it. To the multitudes, it represents immortality and paradise, a perfect place of pleasure and enjoyment free of the constraints of morality, guilt and regret. For some though, it has a darker side - the curse of immortality and the madness that comes with it. That would fit with Random. As for having a clean slate, that will be true. No doubt it will be like Paris in its newness. I wonder if the King intends to move any of the Amberites there." and he makes a mental reference to remember to call Gerard. Jerod will want to see if either of his current servants wishes to come here or be released from service.
Jerod leans back, pausing as the drinks arrive before continuing. "So the good King managed to do it? I'll have to talk to Martin about finagling a walk." he says, smiling. Vere is reasonably certain though that Jerod is not joking about the walking part.
"The Queen's information is certain to be accurate, if the power of the Mirrors is still available to her." Jerod says. "Be cautious in your dealings around anything with a mirror surface. I am not sure as to the extent of their range and powers, but you will notice that I keep none in my quarters in open view and when one is required, it is usually kept well covered and in a drawer somewhere. Now that you have been permission to recruit to help your people, Moire is certain to keep an eye on your progress, both here and at your home."
"It is good for a monarch to see to it that she stays informed," Vere says in a noncommittal voice. He tastes his drink, smiling at the sensation of drinking while underwater. It is still novel enough to be amusing. "Would you prefer that I not follow up on the matter of the Libertists? Or is there some particular way in which you would prefer me to continue investigating this situation while I go about recruiting my war band?"
"Pursuing the Libertists is not an easy task." Jerod says. "People died during the suppressions and not all of them were guilty of anything more than believing in a cause. You pursue it at your own peril and your position as Gerard's son will not protect you if you cross the wrong individual here. I have a few more options in that regard than you do.
"To find out about the Tritons, and Conner's story, and Hargar'el's murder, is to include the Libertists however. I would recommend that if your...source...decides to provide you with any additional information that you bring it to my attention. Unless your source is willing to speak to me, in which case we can keep you free of suspicion."
"I should be able to seek additional information, if there is anything specific you would like me to ask. Please understand that this won't be up-to-date information, my source has access only to information up to the beginning of the suppression of the movement, nothing more recent."
"Given the nature of the incident, I would be quite suspicious of your source were they able to provide current data." Jerod replies drily. "And information of that time is somewhat difficult to obtain, especially in an oral culture."
Vere's lips quirk slightly in amusement. "The obvious person for me to question in that case is the queen's historian," he points out mildly. "Yet somehow I think you might not wish me to put her in the difficult position of deciding whether or not to report such questions to the queen."
"I have somewhat better access to the Archivist than you do." Jerod says, even more drily. "And that particular situation is something that she and I have had to deal with many times in the past. We will deal with it again now. Focus on your recruitment efforts - they will demand enough attention as it is. If your source brings up additional information, so be it. Your efforts to gain the approvals of the various mothers and sisters will give you sufficient access to passively validate anything that can be checked in that fashion. I will do the active digging."
Vere nods his acceptance of this. "Do you believe this is somehow tied in with the assault upon Conner, the damage to Princess Llewella's home, and the murder of Harga'rel? Or am I attempting to weave together threads that belong in different tapestries?"
"I rule nothing out." Jerod says. "But you are correct about the various tapestries. We have too little data to link anything together. The kelp beds we are navigating weave their fronds together, though they are not necessarily from the same plant. The Tritons appear to be at the center, but they are creatures of power and mystery. They attract plots by their nature, just as we do.
"I would find it preferable if Conner was not involved in Hargar'el's murder. It would mean I would not have to come up with a reason to prevent my sister from having those responsible killed."
Vere is silent for a few moments, his face expressionless. Then he asks quietly, "More information on that murder would be useful to you?"
"Of course. Hargar'el was a smuggler - it's practically synonymous with being a merchant prince." Jerod says. "His business contacts would have covered all ranges of society. He may have been killed for greed, envy, jealousy. Things totally unrelated to the current situation. Or maybe he found out something he shouldn't have that is related. Under the best of circumstances, we can prove why he was killed and put it behind us. Random did ask that I take a look into it...enough that he sent an official letter expressing his displeasure with the situation.
"Under the worst, it gives us time to figure out what to do in the event we prove Conner was involved. I would rather not have to do something unpleasant to him."
"Mmmm," Vere replies. He thinks for a moment then adds cautiously, "I know that Reid had certain information regarding the murder, that I hope proved useful to him in the investigation. The murder took place very quickly, it is likely that two or three assailants were involved, it appears to have been an attack of opportunity and unlikely to have been coordinated with the attack by Duchess Borel. Hargar'el was not aware of any particular threat to himself at that time, and had seen no reason to take any special precautions to protect himself. His presence in the champagne room was most likely fortuitous, and the most likely scenario is that his assailants found him alone in the room, due to the sudden commotion caused by Duchess Borel, and took advantage of the situation.
"While Conner is not exonerated by this scenario, since the murder might well have been carried out by hirelings, it does prove that he did not personally commit the murder. Is it likely that he would have trusted such a task to someone rather than carry it out himself, if we were the culprit?"
"Would you?" Jerod counters, then shakes his head. "If you're going to pull this kind of crap, you do it yourself. Fewer loose ends to trip you up later. The rest of your assessment I agree with. It was most probably an attack of opportunity. I would not be surprised if our troubleshooting Rebman pair of Bend and Montage were involved. The Gatwegians are equally suspect as are any one of Hargar'el's Amber business associates, most if not all of whom were in attendance."
"My principal objection to Bend and Montage is purely psychological, it simply seems unlikely that it would occur to Rebmans to drown their victim on the spur of the moment. I may be underestimating them, however." He stares at his glass for a moment, then adds, "I keep thinking of the two glasses of champagne that he was carrying when he was attacked. Could the reflective surfaces of a champagne flute have been used as a mirror?"
"It is possible, though I am unsure as to the application of the magic that the Mirror uses. I think that given sufficient skill, any use of a mirrored surface would be adequate. Whether the mirror can be used simply for scrying, or offensive purposes, I do not know. I have also contemplated the possibility of magical attacks through the fountain. Lucas would no doubt find it humourous if Hargar'el were killed by a champagne elemental." Jerod says, pausing before continuing. "I think it is time I finally broached the mirrors with my mother.
"Also, do not underestimate Bend and Montage for a second. They might consider it a form of fateful irony that Hargar'el managed to escape the watery clutches of Rebma, only to find a watery grave on dry land. I dislike both and for no reason that I can fully explain for they have done me no ill in the past. Call it instinct. Suffice to say that should I consider myself even slightly threatened by either, I would kill them immediately and worry about displeasing her Majesty later."
"I shall keep that in mind," Vere replies seriously. His smile grows slightly larger. "If it does turn out to be a champagne elemental," he says, "Then perhaps we need to begin considering whether Lucas had reason to wish Hargar'el dead. Who in Amber has a greater familiarity with champagne?"
Jerod laughs. "Indeed. Possibly Florimel, but she would see that as a waste of champagne I think. We can also be sure that none of the coffee loving crew were involved, otherwise it would be a coffee elemental. Far too easy to detect."
Having finished his drink, Jerod moves it to one side, noting the shift of currents again, unconsciously recognizing the approach of Seiche even as he ties it to other visual clues. "Have you managed to speak to anyone yet concerning your recruitment?"
"Only Captain Castor. I plan on sending requests to the women of your family immediately after our meeting, requesting individual meetings with them at their earliest convenience to seek suggestions. Before speaking with them I wished to ask your suggestions on how best to approach them.
"Politely." Jerod replies with a smile. "Though I doubt you will have a problem with that. They know some of your background so you should not have to deal with any of the more unfortunate issues that some of the Ladies have regarding males. And mom doesn't appear too ruled by that prejudice...not like some others of the Court. Otherwise dad never would have even looked at her.
"Speak with them as you did with the Queen. Treat them as your equal, which in some ways you are. You serve your mother's interests, your kingdom's and they will understand that. Be honest and straight with them. They'll decide if you're worthy of being treated as a sister, as opposed to a male."
Vere nods. "That was my interpretation of the situation," he says, "I am pleased to find it matches reality." He takes another sip of his drink, as usual he is drinking slowly and it is less than half finished. "I hope you will not think it a liberty if I say that I find that I rather like your family. It saddens me that I cannot think of any suitable way to convey your sisters' father's sentiments to them."
Jerod chuckles. "I appreciate that, though I would caution you to reserve your judgement about how much you like them until after you've seen them in Court on a bad day. They can be very nasty when they want to be. It's where I got my nasty streak from.
"As for their father...they know their father and what he meant to them. As does my mother. They will make their farewells in their own way. If they are feeling generous, they may tell you a little more about him. Listen well if they do. You'll hear a bit more of the man than the scoundrel."
Vere twines the two coloured locks of hair over his right temple between his fingers. "I am capable of appreciating women with such a temperament," he murmurs.
"They are rare indeed. Appreciate them for they come but once." Jerod says, thinking of another.
"Indeed," Vere replies. He falls silent, his mind far away.
"She'll still be there." Jerod says after a moment. "You won't have to wait five years."
"Perhaps," Vere responds. "Though things are not as simple as they might appear." He gives a faint shrug.
"Indeed. Family tends to make things very complicated. Dad was rather annoyed with my choices sometimes. Is there a specific complication that concerns you?" Jerod asks.
Vere takes another small sip and holds the drink in his mouth for a moment, savouring the taste, before swallowing and replying, "You remember how difficult it was to get my father to concentrate on his own problems. Not only during his Regency, when I agreed that we had to focus on the good of Amber, but even during the first days after the king's return. Eventually, I decided that he could only be forced to consider his own good before the good of others by making the one dependent upon the other. I have sworn a mighty oath before him that no concerns of mine shall come before seeing to his healing. The restoration of my mother's throne is permissible, as I am acting in my father's stead when I go to her aid, and as it is a means to heal his legs, as mother and her priestesses may well have the magical power to restore him. But purely personal considerations can not be entertained until he walks once more." Vere smiles in quiet self-mockery. "I assure you that when I bind myself by an oath I leave no room for legalistic trickery. I am well and truly bound."
Jerod nods, listening carefully. "Admirable, though I'll add it seems a bit...rigid." and he smiles.
"Let me play devil's advocate. What if your personal considerations, as you refer to them, helped in your quest? I would ask whether you are stronger with her, or without her. What then?"
"As the oath specifically included the words 'I will not take wife nor lover until you are healed' I fear it will not allow for such an interpretation." He returns Jerod's smile. "I wanted to be certain I had Father's full attention."
"You don't see that you might have backed yourself into a corner?" Jerod asks. "You mentioned about not having your oath not affected by any form of legalistic trickery. How logical is it to deny yourself access to a valuable resource? It sounds like you're using your own form of legalistic trickery to justify your oath.
"Which is more important? Your oath, or the intent of the oath?"
"Yes," Vere replies. He chuckles ruefully. "I know my intent when I placed the oath, and I know the exact wording. By the traditions of my mother's people both are equally important. We have numerous cautionary tales of those who swear badly phrased oaths and find themselves trapped to commit evil acts, or forbidden from defending themselves at the time of their greatest peril. Likewise we have stories of those who carefully follow the exact phrasing of their oaths, but break the spirit of it. Such stories do not end well. In any case, I do not seek to break nor bend my oath. It was sworn in earnest, and that I did not know that love would seek me out so soon after the swearing does not release me from it. If anything, it is fate's way of emphasizing the sacrifice I make, and should be welcomed as a chance to prove my character."
"Based on your current comments, I'd say you have already broken the carefully worded oath you made." Jerod says.
"I debated that point to myself," Vere replies seriously. "But I have concluded that by equating the terms lover and wife as I did, I was clearly referring to a physical relationship, and not to an emotional one. This is verified by the fact that the oath further equates this with a refusal to accept any title or position of honour from the king until my father once more walks. Just as I stated that I would not accept such titles, which would be demonstrations of the king's regard, but said nothing about the fact that I cannot control the opinion the king might have of me, so my refutation of love refers to the physical act, and not to the emotion of love, which after all cannot be so easily controlled."
"No it can't be. And I will agree with your detailed evaluation of the situation so far. So of course my next question must be...if there is no issue of the oath being in jeopardy, why then would there be any problem or complication?" Jerod says, returning to the original starting point of the conversation.
"Unless we recognize that being in love is more of a problem than just the simple component of sex."
Vere nods slowly, carefully considering Jerod's question. When he speaks he chooses his words with great care. "I worry that I am being unfair to Robin," he says. "Offering her the promise of something I may never be able to give her. Is it right to do this? Should I not release her from any commitment." He shakes his head and frowns. "No," he continues, "I made my oath clear to her, and I made it clear that I considered that she had no commitment, and was free to make her decision with full knowledge. Can I now second guess her and claim to know better than she what is best for her? If I trust her with my love, how can I not trust her judgment to know whether she wishes to return that love?"
Jerod succeeds throughout Vere's comments to keep a straight face, but looses it once Vere has finished. It does not last long thankfully, and perhaps a really HIGH water might think that Jerod is somewhat chagrined at his behaviour.
Vere raises a single eyebrow as Jerod laughs, but does not otherwise react.
"You make it sound like you actually have any say in the matter." Jerod says finally. "Or that she does.
"Can you honestly say that you could stop caring for her, even if you wanted to? Even if she were dead?" Jerod asks. "My father has been dead over five years. Even now those of Court are wise enough not to disparage his name in earshot of my mother."
Jerod motions for another drink and allows the glass to arrive before he continues. "Care to wager what Robin's answer would be if you asked if she could stop caring about you? I'm pretty sure I'll win so I'll give you good odds."
"I have no desire to have to defend myself from an assault by the woman I love," Vere replies drily. "So I shall not take you up on the wager." He glances down at his glass, then finishes it with a single drink. "Does Rebma produce anything similar to cider?" he asks Jerod. "I find myself with a longing for it."
"I'm afraid not. It's the same with scotch. Mixes with the surrounding water too quickly. The specific density of the drink either has to be very light or much heavier. I sometimes have something called Krill. It's a heavier drink, not normally served in polite company. Think of it like a strong ale. I don't drink much of it but it's not bad." Jerod says, motioning for a refill for his guest.
"Listen...Robin's not going to get involved with some guy unless she thinks he's worth her time. And that includes anything that he might have to do with his family. She understands duty very well. She wouldn't be a Ranger if she didn't. If you're really afraid that your duty might become too much in between you two...then ask her to join your duty. Your oath doesn't prevent that. And everyone benefits."
"She has her own war to fight right now. And there are.... other reasons. It wouldn't be wise for Robin to be in the Isles at this time." Vere waves the topic away. "That's all I can say about that. But yes, once I return from my mother's realm, and if she has finished with Prince Julian's war in Arden, then I shall ask her if she is free to aid me in the quest to restore Father's health." Vere takes a small sip of his refreshed drink. "Thank you, Jerod. Speaking of these matters was a help."
"What war in Arden?" Jerod asks. "I'm afraid I've not been keeping up on that end. Is this about the problems with the Shadows paths?"
"It has to do with the mother of Prince Julian's elder son. I do not understand the details, but Julian felt the situation was dire enough that he has closed the borders of Arden to everyone save his Rangers. Robin used the word 'war' in referring to it, so I take it the situation is more serious than merely a battle for custody of the son in question."
Jerod does some mentally figuring. "Elder one...that would be Daeon?" Jerod asks. "The one Caine had with him when I passed them through at Ygg. I'm wondering what could be classed as a war in Arden." and he muses for a second. "I'll have to remember to ask Uncle Julian next time I get the hankering."
"If you happen to have that conversation before I have left Rebma I would appreciate being brought up to date," Vere says. "I did not question Robin on the matter when we were together, as we had other matters to occupy us. And I had no chance to speak to Prince Julian at all before leaving Amber." He shakes his head slightly. "I truly meant to speak with him, and such a conversation should have taken place, although I suspect the topic of Arden would have been of relative unimportance, if it were mentioned at all."
"You haven't spoken to Julian about this yet?" Jerod asks curiously. "If it is sufficiently important, then come and see me after this evening's meal if you've the time. My father left me a...gift." he says, pausing on the last word. "His deck."
"Indeed?'" Vere lifts his glass to his lips and takes a long drink, letting his eyes nearly close. Finally he returns the glass to the table and says, "Robin spoke with him, so I know he is informed. And I have no doubt that he is currently very busy with many concerns. I would not wish to disturb him now with a conversation that would be better held in person."
"The offer is there still if you wish it. And quit acting like your father." Jerod says, in a friendly tone.
"Am I?" Vere asks with a slight tilt to his head. "I find I cannot be too upset if that is the case." He thinks for a moment. "I truly do thank you for the offer, it is very kind. I will keep it in mind. But I think that, for now, I will delay that conversation."
"Just be sure not to do any self-sacrificing anytime in the foreseeable future." Jerod says. "It's a habit I hope some family members will break. If anyone is going to get sacrificed, have the enemy be the affected party."
Vere smiles at him. "I will remember that," he promises.
Last modified: 28 July 2004