Home Court Disadvantage

There is a quiet knock beside the door and a slight man looks in. "I'm Constable Hadrianus. You sent for me, your Grace?

Jerod looks behind himself from the sand table in Carina's quarters, having finished the image he was so carefully forming.

"Ah...Hadrianus. Please, come in." Jerod says, turning to face him. "My aunt's townhouse, Princess Llewella's. I understand Montage was conducting the investigation of the break-in. I will be checking the site myself today and I require the key."

"I'm afraid Sir Montage is unavailable, your grace, unless you have means of contacting him. He has not returned from escorting her grace your sister to Paris."

"I'm aware that Sir Montage is not available. He is away on extended tour to Amber with my sister." Jerod replies, shifting his tone to a more formal Court level. "I did not say that I required Sir Montage. I said that I required the key to my aunt's apartment."

"Of course," says the constable, catching sight of the look in Jerod's eye. "I will send for someone with the authority to get the key for you at once, your grace."

This is how the remainder of Jerod's early afternoon goes--moving up the food chain of minor officials to get things done. Moire's court is old and civilized, yes, but it is ponderous, and while each man, and when it comes to that, each woman, is happy enough to do the thing that will win her the favor of Princess Rilsa's child, none of them are afraid enough of him yet to do more than summon the minor official who has immediate and direct power over them.

Worse yet, while Jerod might be able to sway Bend directly, she is not available, nor is Montage.

In Amber, Jerod was the king's son, and after his father's death, the right-hand man of the Regent. When he ordered a thing, it was done, without question. Here, he is a boy--a powerful one, to be sure, but still a young male, and one whose authority has been diminished by his long absence.

It is with this bitter reminder that Jerod realizes the hour of court draws near, and he must make his preparations to attend.

Immediately after [his lunch with Jerod, Vere sends] messages to the women of the royal family, asking them to let him know when it would be convenient to meet with them to discuss possible recruits for his war band. If any of them are available before late afternoon he will meet with them, if not then he will spend the time walking around the palace, learning the layout, and making his way to the training grounds of the Coldstream Guards for his sparring match with Castor.

[None of them will be available before court. Make your court preparations for the day, then we'll run court in one or two posts, then you can spar. You get lunch with Rilsa on the morrow.]

The layout of the castle is that of Castle Amber. Before the tower fell.

Vere amuses himself by checking on things that he expects to be similar, such as the location of the kitchens, and things that he expects to be very different, such as discovering what occupies the area taken up by the library in the castle he is familiar with.

The library is a sculpture gallery, with busts of various notables on shelves. The stables are different, of course. They're apparently quarters for the tritons. Vere notes that they have a not-particularly alert but not-particularly ceremonial guard stationed at the entrance.

Knowing full well what court can be like, Vere eats a hearty meal beforehand. He changes once more into his court attire from the Isles, and braids his hair. He takes special care to braid the coloured locks together into a single strand.

Moire's court is much as Jerod recalls it from his youth, and much as it was yesterday, in fact. There is a place for Jerod with his mother and sister. When Vere arrives, he is also shown to a place with the royal family--a signal honor, and one that to Jerod speaks of both high favor to Vere and high favor to himself.

What effect the news of this will have on surly mid-level officials remains to be seen.

There is little for them to do today other than observe. As Moire deals with various matters, Vere learns, and Jerod recalls, who is important and who is not, which of the Seawards and Shells stand high in royal favor and which stand low. There have been some changes since Jerod was last active, and Rilsa's occasional comments enlighten him about some of the reasons.

Loreena engages Vere in pleasantries and light talk, but not enough to distract him. Certainly not enough that he misses the Archivist's occasional tender glance at his cousin.

Jerod notices that the Shell of Khrop is involved in a minor dispute. Moire rules against Khrop, and Jerod suspects it is not entirely on the merits of the case. Carina, who is among the courtiers closest to the Queen, frowns a little.

Among the announcements made by the Herald is that Prince Vere of the Isles of the Dannan has the Queen's leave to recruit a company of picked men. Many speculative eyes fall on the foreign visitor, and Vere senses that he and Castor will have an easier, if more interesting, time because of it.

As the court breaks up, a young woman presents herself to Jerod. She is Varinia, who works with Carina in the archives, and Carina has asked her to assist Jerod with anything he requires.

"Lady Varinia." Jerod replies with a nod. "I will have some need of the archives in the days to come. I will contact you tomorrow with a first draft of what I will require."

"I will await your pleasure in the archives tomorrow," Varinia replies.

After court Vere returns to his room to retrieve his backsword and dagger, then will keep his appointment with Castor.

Castor is prompt and leads Vere to a compound on a hill on the outskirts of Rebma. Vere is introduced to those who have not met him yet and word of the impending sparring match spreads throughout the camp. Vere gets the feeling that most of the assembled are potentially good soldiers, somewhat spoiled by garrison and HQ duty.

The group doesn't quite carry them towards an impromtu arena, but they're quick to let them take the circle. All other activity has stopped. No one wants to miss seeing this fight.

Captain Castor speaks loudly, for the benefit of his audience. "Some of my brother officers are wagering on me out of pride. Some others, well some have met your father or uncles. What weapons shall you choose for us to fight with, Prince Vere? Rapier, net, trident?"

Vere smiles, and replies in a voice which does not seem overly loud, yet carries clearly to the furthest members of their audience (court training is good for so many things), "Please, Captain, I insist that you make the choice. I suggested the match, and by the customs of my people the choice of the weapon should be yours."

Castor nods, broadly. "In commemoration of our future efforts on the surface together, Prince Vere, let us start with the rapier." He reaches for a pair in a nearby rack, and offers one to Vere. He swings his in a large arc, slicing through the water, and then thrusting forward a few times. "Will these do?"

[assuming Vere comes up with some variant of 'yes'...]

Castor is an excellent duelist, on par with Vere in most respects. Castor can't touch Vere, because Vere dodges his blows, but he's good. Vere thinks that he may not have as good a grasp of underwater fencing as he hoped. He should be better than Castor.

Vere makes note of the things he believes he needs to be more aware of, should he need to fight again before he departs Rebma.

The show is quite good and definitely seems to raise the interests of a number of the soldiers in volunteering. Vere is pressed with many questions at the dinner that follows about the nature of his fight, the opposition, the prospects for fighting witch-queens (if Vere mentions witch-queens) and many other issues. There are a number of visitors from other camps and they suggest that Vere could recruit profitably at those bases, as well.

Vere does mention the witch-queens, and does not minimize the danger they pose. He has no desire to bring along soldiers who don't fully understand the situation.

Vere will obtain details on the other camps, and set up a schedule for visiting them over the next couple of days. He makes it clear that he would much prefer it if the band can be chosen and ready to march within a week.

This news encourages some and discourages others. Vere thinks he will be able to finish his recruiting in that time.

And I believe Castor had arranged for a meeting with his sister that night after the sparring, correct?

Yes. His sister Helena meets the two of you at a nearby outdoor cafe that is lit by the ubiquitous flame globes that light the better parts of town. She is young, perhaps even younger that Castor. Once she is assured that you are legitimate and that your plans are not foolish, she offers her assistance with the other heads of families. She doesn't think she would be a good spokeswoman, but can talk to Castor's aunt who can help.

Vere thanks her, and accepts her offer with sincere gratitude.

She also tells a cautionary tale of an army that marched away to seaward to fight for a noble cause and eventually, through many years of attrition and replacement, became a force of mercenaries bearing nothing but the name of the honorable company that left Rebma. She warns that many of the Seaward folks will think of those tales.

Vere nods seriously as she tells the tale, and asks her advice on what he can do to alleviate such concerns.

"Hmm, not much to do. Tell them you plan to stay in touch with Rebma is about all that can honestly promised," she says, tentatively.

Vere thanks her sincerely for the advice. He'll take this as an opportunity to mention his hopes for a great deal of future contact between Rebma and the Isles.

With her help, recruiting continues apace.

[What, if any, other projects is Vere working on while recruiting moves forward?]

The recruiting will take most of his attention, of course, along with arranging for sufficient arms to be obtained and ready to travel with them when they're ready to leave.

He also wants to make time to speak with the Archivist, to ask her help in understanding Rebma. Among other things, he'll ask her for an explanation of who the important courtiers are, and a brief political history. He's genuinely interested in these topics, of course, but he's also listening for specific names and titles, and will try to gracefully steer the conversation towards getting more information on people mentioned by Cornelia. If the topic of the Libertists does not come up naturally, Vere will casually mention that he heard the term used once while in Amber, and ask for a history of that movement.

In addition, Vere is keeping a watchful eye on the Tritons, with his usual discretion, of course. He's interested in watching the way they interact with each other and with Rebmans, and very interested in any more unusual reactions such as the one he has already noticed.

They don't speak, as far as Vere can tell. They don't mix with the armed forces, even though it's clear that they can fight and have a role in the defense strategy of Rebma. It may well be that the army has, as a secondary mission, to be prepared for problems from the Tritons.

The tritons have two classes, a religious priest caste that serves the queen directly and a commoner class that doesn't serve anyone. They all live in the lowest parts of Rebma, an area known as downtown. They're called "downers" by some, and it doesn't sound kind.

Vere will, quite casually and clearly just out of innocent curiosity, lead occasional conversations with officers towards the topic of the Tritons, getting a sense of how they are regarded by Rebma's military.

Not very much at all. It's 'they also serve..." at best. They're not considered bright, and they keep to themselves. Vere gets the feeling that no officer with an eye to the future wants anything to do with them. Vere also gets the feeling that pressing the subject will not be well taken.

So, naturally, Vere does not press it, but easily moves on to other items of interest to the newcomer to Rebma.

And he continues to set up his meetings with members of the Royal Family. Once he's put together a potential list of officer candidates he'll go over them all with Castor, then meet with them individually to get a feeling for them, and to get their opinions on other candidates as well. He's cross-referencing and comparing what people say about each other, not only to come at a closer approximation to the best candidates but also as a check on any individuals who use the same wording or same try to lead him to similar conclusions, as a test for whether someone is trying to plant individuals in his warband as spies or agents.

He's giving Jerod plenty of space, and will wait for his cousin to contact him rather than seeking him out.

You find about 20% more men than you need, although you're a little shy on officers. You could promote a soldier, go without, or change your standards.

Vere will call a meeting of the officers that he does have, and go over the list of possible men, looking for anything the officers know about any of the candidates that is either in their favor or else argues against accepting them. He'll use that information to narrow the list, then make final decisions based on personal interviews and observations.

As far as finishing off the officer corps, he'll discuss the matter with Castor and the other officers. His instinct is to make a change in the original plan, and go with fewer officers to begin with, with the plan of promoting from the ranks to fill the open slot at a date in the not too distant future. That will demonstrate to the men that promotion is possible within the band, and will give the officers a chance to observe the men and decide who best deserves the promotion.

Vere will also make official Castor's position as his second in command.

Castor thinks that's a good plan, and asks if Vere is going to personally take the company that is without a captain.

Vere taps the tabletop with his fingers, considering. "There is much to be said for that," he replies, "However, there is also the fact that such an arrangement could lean to envy and discontent over who was chosen for my command rather than that of another. I had thought that instead we would begin with one extra man to each of the captains, and once we chose a new captain we shall shuffle the commands as seems best to us at the time. Your thoughts on this?"

"I think that with a band this small, you will be in the thick of fighting and some band will have you with it, with all that that entails. As to eleven man decades, I think that would work. Do you wish to appoint sergeants from the ranks or do you want the captains to take care of that?"

"Let's allow the captains to handle it, and see how it goes. I want them to know and trust the men they command, and not to feel that I am constantly looking over their shoulders."

And he'll raise with the officers the question of a name for the band. "Warriors like to have a name to call themselves," he observes. "The elite band of my mother's land is the Brotherhood of the Stag, for instance, and here in Rebma you have the Coldstream Guards. We should choose a name that will be a bridge between Rebma and the Isles, something that will inspire pride in the men and confidence in the people of the Isles when they hear it. Suggestions?"

There are several suggestions, mostly uninspired [like the GMs]. It is Castor who says "Perhaps we could call ourselves 'The Children of Lir'". This meets with nods from many of the officers.

"The Children of Lir, it is," Vere replies. "An excellent name."

After his brief talk with the Lady, Jerod makes brief farewells with family and cousin and heads back to the bureaucracy, in a lot less of a good mood and not as willing to follow each link. If the stonewalling continues, then he bypasses the chain and goes to the link he thinks will actually do the job.

Bend was generally assigned tasks by your grandmother. It might well take a royal command to interfere in her doings. You could also just go enter the place, or else ask Llewella's retainers at the palace for the key. It's not unreasonable that underlings don't have access to it or know if Bend and Montage took it with them.

But any of the flunkies you talked to can probably physically provide you access to Montage's office, if you lean on them enough.

Jerod being Jerod, he's willing to bypass the chain completely. At this rate, he'll head over to Llewella's apartments and check it himself. If anyone gets in his way, unless there are several Tritons amongst them, he'll beat the hell out of them and worry about explaining it to grandmama later. You may take that as a declaration of intentions...:)

No one gets in Jerod's way and he soon finds himself on a dark street on a hillside, across from a park. There is a row of townhomes here, including the one that Jerod knows is Llewella's. He sees no sign of damage or that the townhome is occupied.

Jerod will head over to Llewella's townhouse to enter. He is not being furtive in anyway - that would draw more suspicion than a straight entry. He is however careful enough to make note of possible surveillance. A park is a good area to hide and keep watch, as well as from the other homes.

Jerod doesn't see any obvious observers, but the park is on a hillside, so there are plenty of vantages which could be used to look up at it. The door faces the park and, while not lit, is not unapproachable.

Then Jerod does it the old fashioned way. He calmly walks up the front door as if he belongs there and checks the door. Given that it was a crime scene, and private property, he's going to figure it's locked. He will try to pop the lock using his strength and see if that works (and then we'll find if its been magically barred).

It's locked, but not by a lock that could stop a triton or a Prince of Amber. Jerod hardly breaks his stride and then he is inside. The entry way is paneled in a dark wood, with a stairway up at one end, receiving parlors at the front, and kitchen-y rooms towards the back of the first floor.

The house looks as if it has been mothballed, with furniture and boxes stacked neatly in the center of the rooms. The place is immaculate. From the entryway, Jerod can see a door at the back that is ajar.

The stairway had a gigantic stained glass mosaic in it, although there's no light source behind it.

Jerod listens for a long moment, letting his senses attune after closing the door, letting memories return of old lessons and old intrigues, even as he loosens his sword.

He remembers Lamell as they wandered the kelp forests, Jerod still young, not understanding the lesson yet even though everything was new and different. But the lessons return and he listens now as he crouches, listens and watches and senses.

He remembers that lighter odours rise and heavier ones descend and to be wary of both.

He remembers that broken glass sends heavier shards following the lines of force, but lighter fragments fly back from the point of impact, or an internal explosion.

He remembers that water currents will filter away fluids at varying speeds, and their densities will cause them to descend or rise accordingly.

He remembers that water flow in houses is always based on the openings, and that dead zones occur in corners to trap evidence. Valuable clues are always where you least expect them.

He remembers that magic is well used here and his senses must remain sharp if he is to even hope to detect it. Magical traps are indiscriminate killers.

He remembers that Tritons are best respected from a distance...as he draws his sword. Just in case.

And with that, he begins a slow, quiet and methodical search, floor by floor, front to back, corner to corner, scanning floor to ceiling, examining everything but touching as little as possible.

The house looks professionally packed, as if someone came in to make it as impersonal as possible. Other than the stained glass, there are no other mirrored, glass, or even reflective surfaces on the ground floor. It would take servants several days to prepare this place for Jerod's aunt to be in residence again.

Jerod searches the top floors methodically, finding nothing in the years-old crime scene. It may have been cleaned by magic, if the reported damage was not exaggerated. There should be glass shards, but he finds none.

The shelves in the study or office are bare, and there are fewer crates here. There is also a bedroom similarly devoid of features. The place has little of the charm it had when Llewella was in residence and this was almost a second Amber Embassy. There is a small safe in the office's furniture pile.

[Jerod can spend as much time as he likes up here...]

Jerod starts down the stairs and turns past the stained glass image of Amber. The magical light behind it still evokes sunset over Kolvir in Jerod's mind. Rumor had it that this was a gift from Ambassador Droit, who wished to court Llewella.

[GMs draw a card for Jerod, "isn't that his *fault*?" "Umm... yes." "eep."]

Jerod feels a current near his ankles and quickly looks down, first nearby and then down the steps. He gets a sickening feeling and looks up, remembering, too late, Lamell's lessons about defending from every direction. "It's easy to beat a surface-dweller. Just get above him." The triton was hiding in the corner of the ceiling and is sprining across the space towards Jerod. It's too late to dodge or duck under the massive bulk of the 20' long creature and while Jerod tries to get his sword on line, the water resistance slows the move enough that it's just not ready when the triton slams into his chest, driving Jerod back into the large glass picture.

Jerod's back and head hit the glass and, shortly thereafter, the wall behind the glass. His sword is gone, he doesn't know where, and the stairwell is lit by crazy reflections off the glittering shards of colored glass and drops of jewel-like red blood.

Through the blood that's floating into his eyes, Jerod can see that the triton wears a mask over his face.

Jerod rolls with the impact...as much as anyone can say that they roll with the impact of a 20' sea monster that has smashed them through glass and into a wall.

Even as the blood and glass form around him, he lets his body roll into the limp ball that a Rebman would come to expect from a surfacer smashed by a Triton, a crumpled heap with arms floating close to the body, beaten so it would seem, even as Jerod keeps a hand close to his body, away from view of the Triton and collects the dagger he always has.

Jerod floats slowly towards the floor in a limp ball, his hand reaching for the dagger. He will not reach it before the Triton reaches him.

And he remembers another lesson, from his father this time, hearing his words clearly now. "Let your enemy see what they wish to see. That is their weakness."

Let the Triton see what Jerod wants him to see...and let him come close to play. Just a little closer...

He comes in, but faster than Jerod expects. As Jerod tries to react, he feels as if his ribcage is on fire. He doesn't think he's punctured a vital organ, but the broken ribs make him slow, slow! The Triton's massive forearm blocks his knife arm as Jerod tries to bring it around and the creature's other arm drives a rock-hard fist into Jerod's protesting midsection.

Jerod folds over the Triton's fist. Things are not going as he wished. However, he has not relinquished his grip on his knife.

With his free hand, Jerod grabs the fist that the Triton punched him with, to ensure that if the Triton tries to use it to block, he'll have to pull all of Jerod with him. He drops his other elbow at the same time to slide the knife, edge down, under the blocking forearm and inside the Triton's guard before thrusting into the face/neck area of the body.

The Triton sees the knife thrust and reacts, pulling his head back away from the incoming thrust. Jerod thrust upwards at him, but is slow and weak from his injuries. Still, even against a superhuman creature, Eric's son is not to be trifled with. The blow catches the Triton's ear and through the ribbon holding on the creature's mask.

It is as Jerod is finishing his cut that the Triton's left fist comes around and hits him in the jaw like a hammer. Jerod is not conscious long enough to register the pain, or to see the tatooed patterns on the creature's face.

Some time passes, which Jerod does not take notice of.

Jerod wakes, unhappily, in a pile of broken wooden palettes. He feels dull pain in his ribs (which are probably broken) and his jaw (which does not seem to be). The Triton held back, not only not killing him, but only hitting him hard enough to put him out. He has neither knife nor sword.

What's around him?

Broken wooden pallets, a sealed rubbish bin, a few boxes, the back side of a commercial building of some sort, the back of another such on the other side of the alley. As far as Jerod can tell, he could be as close as a few blocks from Llewella's townhouse or anywhere across town. In fact, it's pretty likely that he's still somewhat close, since he seems to be at a high-hill location. Night has not fallen, or else the day has broken again.

After trying to sit up and feeling the pain in his side, Jerod pauses to tighten his clothing, compressing the ribs to be able to get into a seated position while getting his bearings, looking up and down the alleyway to see what is at each end and which would be the most suitable for exit without being detected.

It's a dead end alley. Most likely a storefront on one end took over some space that used to be clear in the past. That's not uncommon, especially if this is a high-rent district. There are doors to the buildings on either side and several rubbish bins. As far as Jerod can tell, the pallets were broken before he was dumped on them.

He also makes a physical inspection of his injuries, noting the blood in his hair and working to get it out. He's not interested in showing up at the castle (assuming he decides to go there) with that being noticeable. The same with obvious blood in his clothing. Thankfully being underwater, one can get rid of blood a bit easier - you just have to work at it.

It does take some effort, but Jerod is generally successful at his task.

He also checks to see if his trumps are still there. He's rather displeased that his sword is missing. It was his dad's after all - now it's his and he's not going to lose it like this.

The deck is where he tucked it earlier.

Once finished with his cleanup, he grits his teeth again and slowly climbs to his feet. Jerod reminds himself that he had promised himself to keep an open mind about all this when he began investigating - the pain in his side tells him that in one case, he'll just forgo the idea of tolerance and kill the offender when he finds him. If they're thick enough to think a threat is going to stop him, then someone needs to be reminded otherwise.

Which was seems to be the best to depart? That is the direction that he goes.

Jerod walks, carefully, to the entrance to the alley, glad that he had the foresight to wear clothes that could be re-wrapped for compression. He looks either way and sees that he is a few blocks downhill from the park and Llewella's townhome. He guesses that he has been out for a bit, perhaps an hour or more.

The only person Jerod can see is a maintenance worker raking the shells and stones of a pathway through the park. Other than that, the quiet neighborhood seems quiet.

He grimaces as he looks around from his vantage point, evaluating the conditions. The pain ripples through his chest as he breaths and he pauses, collecting his strength.

What is the function of pain? Venesch's voice asks.

To teach us that life has been generous and given us a second chance. When there is no more pain, life has decided you are not worth the effort of teaching. Jerod hears himself reply, scanning in all directions, including up now, pain reinforcing the lesson. I will not forget.

With that, he heads off...back to Llewella's. He wants his sword back. And he wants to see why that Triton was there, and if only for him.

The front door is closed but not locked, and it give way as easily as before. Jerod enters and looks around. The scene is much as before, although the stained glass has been removed from the landing entirely, leaving bare wall. There is neither any sign of the triton nor, on a first glance, any evidence of the fight that took place here so recently.

"Go ahead." Jerod whispers to himself as he closes the door. "Take my sword. It'll be just that much easier to find you when I go looking for it."

He goes looking for the sword first, but afterwards he is also going to be looking to see how the fight evidence was cleaned up. There will be traces unless some kind of supernatural influence was used to remove it. And assuming he doesn't get assaulted during that investigation, he does another check of the townhouse, looking to see what has been changed, including the stained glass, from his first time here. This will take some time and he will stop as he needs to.

It's obvious where the nail on the wall was to hold the stained glass. It's clear that the wall behind it had a picture-box on it for a long time, otherwise, there's no obvious sign of the fight. The only thing that Jerod notices that's different from the first time he was here (other than the missing picture and that there isn't a triton) is that the door to the basement (where Jerod hasn't been yet) is now closed.

Does he find his sword?

No.

Gonna have to kill someone over that.

The sandskeeper in the park across the way is closest, if you're not picky about whom you kill...

Regrettably he does have standards. It starts with whoever is giving the Triton his orders and then works its way down. (never go for the flunkies - takes too much time).

Jerod pauses again to tighten the clothing a bit more, then heads back up stairs to start again. He remembers the safe that was there and wants to examine it, just in case.

It sits there still, apparently undisturbed since your last visit upstairs.

He looks to see if it can be opened. I'm doubting he can but he'll try anyway.

Anything can be opened if you're determined enough and don't care about damage. How determined are you?

He's determined but he's not going to further bruise himself while he's got busted ribs. If he can pull it off without doing that, great.

Probably not, although you might well be able to take it with you. It occurs to you that it looks like it might be waterproof, btw.

A safe? *funny look* It's going to look a bit funny lugging a safe around. How big it is?

But once that is done, he will head back down, again looking things over, before heading to the basement door.

Jerod comes down the stairs without further incident and heads for the basement door. It is closed but not locked. and opens easily. The way down is wide, although it is not lit. The shadows flicker down the wide stone stairs that seem to be cut from stone. Near the basement door are familiar mundanities: a folded blanket, a half-full bottle, a key rack and small cabinet. The edges of the cabinet are glowing with a flickering light.

Where does the light appear to originate from (within?). And he will check for variations in shadows to determine if someone might be there. Again he doubts it but you never know.

Assuming there is no threat, he examines the items carefully and opens the cabinet. (light source per se?)

Yep, inside is a glass globe with a flickering light in it. Generally a cheap magic, but this one may be higher quality than most, if it's lasted this long. You could easily take it with you to light the way down stairs.

So noted. He proceeds thusly.

Jerod takes a thorough tour of the basement and finds it about as expected. Storage spaces are tidy but well-packed and there is no real dust to disturb in a Rebman basement. Like the rest of the townhouse, it looks like Llewella could move out of here on a moments notice, or her servants could open up the household in about a watch.

Barring removing the wood panelling in the sitting room to look for secret messages concealed behind the woodwork, there's not a lot more Jerod can do here. Also, his broken ribs are really beginning to hurt and he ought to get them looked at.

Following his examination of the basement, Jerod heads back upstairs, putting the glow-light back in its case (wiping it down as well before he does). Again he tightens his clothing as he ponders the situation, wondering at the timing of the attack and why someone has worked so hard to keep things neat and tidy. The desire of an orderly society perhaps, to keep things in their place as they should be? Or perhaps a desire to just keep things quiet.

Jerod smiles mirthlessly. That was about to change. Investigating while things were quiet was no longer possible if they knew he was here. Perhaps a bit of noise would be more appropriate.

With that, he heads upstairs and collects the safe. Despite his suspicions that there was nothing of importance within it, as always he wants to be sure. He brings the safe downstairs and finds a neutral location within the townhouse - some place that when viewed through a trump will not reveal anything specific about it, other than it is a home of some kind. And since all the mirrors are supposed to have been broken, he should not have any problems there (if there are any left still intact, they get dealt with).

There are no unbroken mirrors.

We'll assume there are also no broken ones either...:)

Once done, he pulls out his trump of Corwin and concentrates.

"It's Jerod."

Corwin answers. He's in a chamber of the palace that Jerod doesn't recall seeing during his stay there. "Jerod? What the hell happened to you?" He offers his hand at once, perhaps assuming that Jerod needs sanctuary.

"A lot and most of it at the end of a Triton." Jerod says. He does not accept the proffered hand however. "I need a favor uncle. I need you to keep something for me for a little while. I can't be seen walking around with it." and he pulls the safe into view.

"You shouldn't be walking around with that, not after a run-in with a Triton," Corwin says. "You probably shouldn't be walking around at all."

He peers through the connection at the safe, which he probably can't see very well in the water. "I should ask you what's in that thing, even though I probably don't want to know. Hand it through." Corwin reaches out again, this time with both hands, to take the safe from Jerod.

Jerod offers up the safe. "If you don't ask, you don't have to deny anything." he replies. Once the safe is through, he will nod. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Corwin sets the dripping safe on a rug. He doesn't examine it; he'll probably do that later.

Jerod continues: "If all goes well, I'll call back in a few days, maybe a week tops. I'll need to find an air pocket I think before I can open it. If you don't hear from me in two weeks, open it. The contents should tell you enough to indicate whose it is.

"If before the two weeks is over you get news that I'm dead, then open it. If you can, see about getting the contents get back to Martin."

Corwin starts to say something, probably an objection, then shakes his head. "All right," he says. "Try not to get yourself killed, Jerod. Tritons are dangerous."

"Maybe, but I'm more concerned about whoever's operating with them." Jerod says. "That's the one who's going to occupy my attention for the next little while." and he winces a little, his ribs reminding him they are not happy.

"I'll talk to you soon. Say hi to my new auntie if she's around." he says, before closing off the trump.

Vere sends a message to the Royal Archivist asking to meet with her at her convenience. He makes it clear that it is merely a matter of personal curiosity, nothing urgent, but that he would take it as a favour if she could fit him into her schedule.

She agrees to meet with him at a certain hour of the next day.

Where will the meeting take place?

As she is doing him the courtesy of making time to meet with him, Vere will leave the location up to her. (He's interested in what her choice might tell him about her, in any case...)

She will meet him in the archives.

Wherever the meeting is to occur, Carina meets Vere at the appointed hour.

Vere gives the slight bow with swirling arm moments that he recently learned from Jerod. "Thank you, Archivist, for agreeing to see me," he says. "I hope to take this opportunity to learn more of Rebma and her court."

"The pleasure is mine," Carina says. "I am always glad to help a friend and future ally of Rebma." She offers him a seat, and if he desires, sends for salt tea and the tidbits of tender fish and seaweed that serve in the place of crustless cucumber sandwiches in Rebma.

Once the servants who have brought the tea are dismissed, Carina lets the conversation swim at its own speed, seeing where Vere will lead it.

Vere makes casual small talk for the first little bit, commenting on how much he is enjoying his stay in Rebma, and how helpful everyone has been. Once they have settled in to enjoying their tea he says, "I was raised in court, and I learned early how important it is to know one's way about. I was hoping you could assist me to avoid missteps and mistakes by giving me some information on who the major figures of Moire's court are, and what issues should and should not be discussed. Which courtier should never be praised in the presence of her elder sister, for instance, or who might have had an unfortunate experience with a particular Prince of Amber in the past, and thus should never hear his name, and why squid should never be mentioned to the members of a particular family." He smiles. "Court gossip, in other words. It is the most valuable commodity available when dealing with the insular world of a royal household."

"That's not really my forte, Prince Vere. There are, you might notice, three kinds of positions in the court. Some positions are granted as rewards for services to the crown, and elevate the holder and sometimes the holders heirs to a higher status within the court. Some positions are granted to support continued service, such as the titles often associated with fighting men. And some are working positions, like mine, wherein the queen expects and gets service of a specified nature in exchange for pay. Each type of position has its own circles and its own restrictions. They are not so different that they cannot mix, but there are differences in station that matter here.

"My position as archivist is amongst the most ambiguous of our lot, because I am frequently called upon to be available for the most sensitive discussions between the Queen and nobles or ambassadors, and yet I am a woman of common birth. I maintain my place by being an observer and a recorder without working to influence actions. There are many who would not trust anyone in my position, especially as I seem to have the Queen's ear on far more frequently than the jealous would like.

"As such, I do not always get told the gossip, except when someone wants to filter a piece of maliciousness directly to the Queen. I can tell you something of the more public alliances and poses, but I am seldom privy to the personal."

Vere nods. "Intimate secrets are not what I seek, Archivist. Merely what any intelligent person would have observed, having spent years in this court. I can be forgiven for not knowing hidden details of court politics, but a misstep in some matter that everyone is expected to know about will, at the very least, remind people that I am a foreigner, and change how they deal with me. For instance, I have heard mention of the Seaward Kingdoms, and some of the officers I am considering for my band are from there, yet I do not really know anything about them, not their relation with Rebma."

Carina seems happy to speak about things other than herself. "The Seaward Kingdoms are not unlike your Golden Circle in Amber, but not exactly the same. Rebma's trading partners consist of other undersea kingdoms that trade through the central hub that is the Kingdom of the Sapphire Throne. Add to this our unique access to dryland goods from Amber and her trading partners and you will see the kind of subordinate relationship that exists between Rebma and the Seawards. They can differ in significant ways from Rebma and some are even coastal dryland kingdoms. Those are farther away.

"The kingdoms are a source of wealth for Rebma, and Rebma is a source of knowledge and manufactured goods for them. For the most part, they are considered outliers of the greater Rebman society, though. They are almost like colonies, except they have been a part of our sphere for hundreds of years. Seaward titles are often different than ours, although it is often difficult to know when a title is of Rebma and when it is from the Kingdoms.

"Many of our most noble families have extensive seaward holdings, and many a seaward noble has used wealth as an entry to court. In general, it's considered a label of inexperience to describe someone as being "fresh from the Seawards".

"So a position somewhat combining that of province, colony, and client state," Vere muses. "And the existence of coastal realms explains something I had noticed - that some of the men from the Seaward Kingdoms seemed more familiar with such concepts as the effects of weather on combat and the dangers of massed archery attacks." He tilts his head to one side, then asks, "What are the Shells, exactly? Are they family alliances of some type?"

She nods. "Mercantile alliances, with a strong family component. A way of sharing risk and profit. Their power varies by which Kingdom they are in, but they are more important for large ventures far to Seaward. They are prone to both spectacular successes and spectacular failures. And in many of the Seawards, a Shell is required to act as a front for the merchants' military forces."

"And no doubt politics can run to deep and treacherous waters where such alliances are concerned," Vere says with a smile, "with barely a ripple showing on the surface. For instance, that minor ruling her majesty made regarding the Shell of Khrop. It seemed a little thing and yet I have no doubt there are many currents swirling about that a stranger to this court cannot perceive."

"Shells are vehicles to share risk, and not all that risk is financial. One of the ways in which a monarchy is the ideal form of government is that it allows for the resolution of disputes amongst powerful women without resorting to violence. If the Queen is displeased with the Matron of a Shell, she has other resources at her disposal than placing her head upon a trident beside the Seaward Gates.

"Why the Queen would be displeased with any particular Shell veers towards areas that I think we covered earlier about what my role circumscribed me from discussing, Prince Vere."

"Of course," Vere replies with a slight nod. In an apparent change of topic he asks, "I have been somewhat confused about the exact nature of the roll of Tritons in Rebma's society. I had heard some vague tales of them in Amber, but their dual roll as both trusted guards and yet somewhat despised members of the social order is puzzling. Could you help me to understand this situation?"

She seems relieved to change the subject. "It is said that long ago the Tritons bargained their service the Sapphire Throne. None know the details of the arrangement, or what the Tritons got out of it, but there are three groups of them, generally. The first type are in direct service to the crown. The second are priests of their odd religions. The third do not do anything. They are large, not very smart, not human, secretive, and insular. While they are loyal to the crown, they have no compunction against acting against others of Rebma.

She shrugs. "There are any number of ways in which they deviate from the Rebman ideal of Womanhood. People are not comfortable with them, because they're not."

"I see." Vere muses on this silently for a few moments. "I do not wish to disturb you with questions on the situation regarding Lord Conner, but I am certain you can understand my concern. Am I misstating things if I say that you are implying that I should avoid Tritons where possible?"

She waves her hand, as if grasping at an idea that is hard to capture. "That should be quite easy, Prince Vere. If they are on the Queen's business, they will avoid you. If they are on the Queen's business regarding you, then you will not be able to avoid them. If they are not on the Queen's business, they tend to keep to their own quarter of the city. I know not why Conner killed the two he killed, but he had definitely not taken the advice to avoid the Tritons, or their part of the city. Knowing that he is Jerod's cousin, and yours, as well, makes it easier to believe that he took out two in hand-to-hand combat."

Vere smiles at that, and remarks to the water somewhere behind her head, "It is good to see Jerod happy." With barely a pause to allow her to react to this apparent non sequitur he goes on, "Somewhere among the things I have heard about Rebma someone mentioned a banned political movement that was somehow involved with the Tritons. Libertists, I believe they were called. What should I know about them, if only to know what to avoid saying?"

"Don't say anything about them, Prince Vere. Be wary of anyone who mentioned them. Doing ought else will be likely to jeopardize your mission." She looks out the door of her office. "If you will excuse me Prince Vere, I am afraid I have an appointment that I must keep. I did not mean to take up so much of your time.

"Certainly," Vere replies, standing. "I appreciate the time you have given me, and I will take your advice to heart. Thank you."

"Thank you, Prince Vere. It has been... most interesting."