With the Children of Lir selected and plans for their departure nearing completion, Vere calls a meeting of his captains. "We are prepared to leave," he tells them. "Spears, swords and armour have all been purchased, and I have engaged porters to carry them in chests to the top of the Faiella-Bionin. Once there, they will be distributed to the men. While I have no doubt many will wish to engage in merrymaking on their last night in Rebma, I plan on leaving early in the morning, and I want everyone to at least appear to be sober and in good health tomorrow morning. We shall assemble in the great courtyard of the palace at first light. Once last minute problems have been resolved I shall make a brief address, and we will then process directly to the stairway. Family and friends may attend the assemblage, of course, and I wish everyone's last glimpse of their departing son, nephew, or sweetheart to be a noble and inspiring sight. Let us give the people something of spectacle, for such will warm their hearts in days to come when they think of their absent ones and wonder where they are. Are their any questions or issues that have not yet been addressed?"
One of the men asks how they will recognize friend from foe above the waves. Another mentions that one of his men wanted to know if they will have any support personnel (laundrymen, cooks, etc.) once they arrive. Other than that, the men seem ready to go.
"Identifying sides in a civil war is always difficult. Our first task when we reach the Isles will be to contact my mother and those loyal to her. We will leave the matter of identifying the enemy until we have better intelligence regarding the exact situation. Until then we avoid contact with unidentified forces as far as possible.
"Hopefully we will be able to arrange support for the band once we have arrived, but again that will have to wait for events. I want the men to get used to taking care of themselves on the trip there, it is possible we will have to operate for an extended period without support. Better to be expecting that and be pleasantly surprised."
They nod. Clearly the officers are more inclined to your view than that of the more practical soldiers.
Once any questions have been answered, and all the captains have had a chance to make some comment of their own to feel that they have contributed something worthwhile and been listened to, Vere will dismiss everyone but Castor. "I have taken official leave of the Queen," he tells his tanist. "I rather suspect she will be there tomorrow morning to watch our departure, let us be certain we do nothing to bring dishonour on the name of the Children. I do not expect it, but sometimes high spirits can lead men to make a bad decision, and do something they think amusing, where sober reflection would have shown them it was merely bad taste. I shall leave it to you to watch for such and stop it before it begins." He smiles and explains, "I want to leave the people of Rebma with the strong sense that the Children of Lir are a band of their noblest sons, off to fight for a glorious cause, not a mob of rowdy hooligans that they're better off without. In a situation such as this, even small acts can take on great significance in the minds of those watching." He'll give Castor a chance to comment or ask questions, then move on to a different topic.
"We tried not to recruit fools, of course. But my brother tells me that some things can only be learned under attack. They'll do well enough at parade drill. And the captains have them well under control, I think. But I shall keep an eye out, and Sergeant Valerius will be my second in this."
Vere's lips crook in a small choice. "An excellent choice, from what I have seen of the man."
"Once we are at the top of the stairway we will camp, and spend one to two days getting the men accustomed to moving about and using their weapons on the surface. Then we will start a fast march towards Amber. I will want scouts out ahead of us and to the sides on the march, as well as a rear guard. I'm not expecting to pass through hostile territory, but anything is possible, and in any case it is best to have the men become accustomed to do so from the very beginning. Speak with the captains and determine which men have the skills best suited to act as such scouts."
"If five of us have been above the waves, I should be surprised. It may be better to find the most trainable of the men."
He laughs quietly. "And while you're doing all this, be certain to get a good night's sleep." Assuming Castor has no other business to raise, Vere will clasp his arm, tell him, "I am grateful that you are with me on this, Castor," and dismiss him.
"Thank you, I look forward to restoring your Mother to her rightful place."
Then Vere returns to his chamber and prepares for bed. He pauses then, and stands silently, closing his eyes and drawing the water of the chamber deep into his lungs. He concentrates on the image of Baroness Cornelia, the way she looked and sounded, the 'feel' of her, and lets the power of his mother's blood rise in him. As he breathes out the water he has been holding in his lungs he releases the power, and says, "I must leave now, my lady, but the crime against you, and the cause you embraced, have not been forgot. Deep currents move already, seeking to uncover the hidden truth, and I shall see to it that others are informed of what occurred. Rest easy, lady, know that others have taken up your burden. Rest."
There is no sign that his message is received, but Vere feels that it has been.
And then Vere follows the advice he gave to Castor, and gets a good night's sleep before rising early for the next morning's departure from Rebma.
All is in order and Vere can proceed to the assembly point or whatever other errands he chooses to undertake before departing.
Vere rises early and gathers up all his possessions. Before leaving the chamber he uses the trump to contact Gerard, to let him know that they are preparing to depart from Rebma. Then he walks through the palace, taking a last opportunity to admire it, and amusing himself by working on ways to convince Robin that she would enjoy the experience of being underwater for an extended period of time.
Gerard thanks him for the update, tells him to be careful, and asks for another update when the forces are within a day or so of Amber. He also recommends not going through Arden, as it is officially closed by order of Prince Julian.
Vere thanks his father for the advice, and makes a mental note to travel exclusively along coastline on the trip to Amber, if it proves at all practical to do so.
The art in the palace is spectacular, tending to sculpture and frescos rather than paintings. There are a few tritons around and a few courtiers. If Vere does not approach anyone, no one will approach him.
Vere will nod a greeting to anyone he passes, but he does not pause in his walk.
When he arrives at the assembly point he takes a few moments to watch quietly, mentally sorting the apparent chaos and looking for the underlying order that indicates everyone actually does know what they are doing, and that all the important tasks are being seen to. Then he travels about, speaking briefly with the troops and their families, greeting any onlookers that he knows, and making certain that the chests and travel bags actually contain what they are supposed to. He doesn't expect any thefts to have occurred, but it is always wise to foresee any possible difficulties and ensure against them, however unlikely. For a similar reason he is unobtrusively checking to make certain that the porters are all the people that he hired for this task, and no one has insinuated themselves into the group for reasons of their own.
"I have won a wager with Captain Numitor, Prince Vere," says Castor. "He was convinced that we'd have at least three men not show up due to hangover or last minute remorse. We have only one. Captain Trajan's man Pylas reports that his brother Calvus has accepted a proposal of matrimony. He had, it were, a better offer that arrived when it looked like he was going to go off to war. Oh, and Sgt. Thassos reports that Pylas wishes to transfer to another Captain's company. Sgt. Thassos suggested that the two are not unrelated.
"Other than that, we're ready to form up and march out on your orders."
Vere frowns thoughtfully. "Is there a problem with Trajan, Castor? Calvus' departure leaves him a man short to begin with, to lose Pylas as well will leave him with only eight men in his command. You say that Sgt Thassos has informed you of this, does that mean that the sergeant came to you rather than to his captain with this request? I am inclined to say that I will only be willing to grant this request if Pylas can find two men from the companies of Thresu, Clodius, or Aurelius who are willing to move to Trajan's command, and that this switch is agreeable to all the officers concerned. If not, then Pylas stays under Trajan's command, and I shall seriously consider having Thresu, Clodius and Aurelius dice for which of them must give up a man to Trajan. What say you?"
"I think we should let it pass. I pressed Thassos for Calvus's reaction, and he told me. Calvus is afraid of retaliation. I think we should watch for it, but it would speak ill of our trust in Captain Trajan to act on rumored concerned for his temper."
Castor thinks for a moment.
"Unless you have other moves in mind that might make it a part of a normal reshuffling. Assuming we take losses in combat, we're likely to have to make some periodic adjustments anyway. It's not like we've got new recruits coming in to fill our holes.
"In any case, I'd rather not do anything like that while we're about to march out. Shall we line them up and send them out?"
Vere nods. "We'll leave this matter for later consideration. Assemble the men into their squads and prepare them to move out." He moves aside and watches the men make their final goodbyes to their friends and family and arrange themselves into their subgroups. He watches the eager faces and listens to their whispered conversations, and he wonders how many will return to Rebma, how many will find homes in the Isles, and how many will nourish the scavengers of his homeland with their fallen flesh.
Then everything is ready, and the captains turn towards him. Vere nods, looking over them from the commanding spot he had previously chosen. Briefly, it crosses his mind to wonder how many Rebman leaders had spoken to their assembled troops from this same spot, and how many of them spoke with the knowledge that many of their loyal followers would never return from the coming battle.
"Men," he says to them, his voice strong and proud.
"Comrades. Brothers. We set out today on a noble mission. What bond is more sacred than that between a Queen and her people? What oaths more binding than those of sworn loyalty? And what crime more heinous than treachery and rebellion?
"We go not merely to restore the throne of my mother, not merely to put paid to a traitor who has allowed invaders into the very land she was sworn to protect, not merely to sweep away those who would put the worship of dark gods and the practice of foul magic in the place of rightful devotion to their true queen!
"We march in the very name of Justice! We go forth that it may be seen by all the worlds that wherever evil shall dare to raise its head there shall be men of honour who shall bravely oppose it. With every drop of our blood we shall oppose it! With every particle of our strength we shall oppose it! With every last atom of our very souls, we shall oppose it!
"March forth with me now, my men, my comrades, my brothers! March forth with me, Children of Lir! To the Isles! To Justice! To Victory!"
And he strides forward, leading his men through the streets of Rebma, towards the stairway, towards Amber, and towards home.
The men and the onlookers cheer and the men step out smartly behind Vere and march towards the stairs, Paris, Amber, and the Isles. Each company has at least one man beating cadence with an ivory block and children run along beside the troops for some way.
As the Children of Lir reach the gate that now leads towards the stairs, a shadow crosses their path. High above some sort of fish or shark swam over them. Most of the men do not seem to notice.
Nor does Vere give any appearance that he noticed it. He does, of course, and he also makes a mental note of the men who did notice it, and their reactions to it.
Vere is not the only one to notice the shape that swims over the departing troops. From his vantage point, Jerod makes note of the shadow, his mind sifting through Vere's speech.
"We march in the very name of Justice." Eric's voice repeats. "A rather impassioned speech for such a quiet one. Do you think it will help him? Do you think he surprised anyone?"
"Only the ones who fail to recognize the drive." Jerod replies to his father's ghost. "The quiet ones are always the most passionate. They bury it so much."
"Like you?" Lamell asks, the lessons of Court politics and polite discourse filtering in the background. "Suppressing the words that come to mind, wearing the face that is demanded for the moment."
"That's different." Jerod says. "Court is politics and intrigue, planning and calculation. Cold remote logic is its strength. Or a weakness rather."
"Weakness?" Valeria asks. "Do you think that we put you into the middle of that to teach you weakness? Mother wouldn't agree with that assessment I think."
"I was put there to teach me what I needed to recognize in order to survive without a sword or spear. To learn my wits and not just my strength." Jerod counters. "You know my strengths. Court politics is not one of them."
"But you learned it." Loreena says.
Jerod shrugs mentally. "But I did not enjoy it. It is devoid of the passion that justice demands."
Venesch glowers. "And what is justice? Another word for vengeance maybe. Something that distract you from your commitment, your duty to your Lord and the Realm."
"Is it? What is duty old friend when it is cold and emotionless? When the dictates of duty become more important than its spirit?" Jerod asks. "When there is no passion to drive it, duty becomes a prison and a curse."
He watches the men begin their march through the streets towards the entrance, the people cheering and children playing. The ephemeral rewards of eagerness to those with ambition, the adulation of the crowds. Will the eagerness remain when their fellows lay dead in a foreign land, he wonders.
"You didn't answer the question." Cambina says, poking at his focus. "Do you think it will help him?"
"Passion?" Jerod asks. "If he truly believes in it, perhaps. It will depend on what happens when he gets home. When he can see first hand the effect that treachery has and how close it strikes to one's heart. It's different when you're miles away and hear about it, instead of seeing it up close. Will the passion of justice remain, or will it sour into vengeance when he confronts his enemy and looks them in the eye."
"Has it soured for you?" Rilsa asks. "Do you seek justice when you hear his words, or does vengeance now fester?"
Jerod smiles, at last recognizing the question that has remained buried these last few days. "What do you think?"
"We cannot answer that question." the voices say. "Only you can. Do you know what is within?"
Jerod is silent as he watches the last of the troops move out of range, then slowly unclenches his fist from around the spear that he had been cradling in a rest position.
"I'll know...when I see the face of the enemy." Jerod says to himself. "Then I'll know..."
The entrance to the stairs is an easy morning's march from the city, and the troops reach it in good spirits. After stopping for a meal, the men take their weapons from the porters and file in ranks of two up the stairs into the mountain and away from Rebma.
It is not more than a watch or two before they troops reach the cavern with the great throne in it. The troops, who have been in good spirits for the first day's march and climb, are notably muted upon seeing the throne-room.
Vere calls a temporary halt here, and summons the captains. "This is a good place for a camp," he tells them, "And it is a solid day's journey from here to the top of the stairs. We can either continue, with no other place to camp before we reach the end of the stairs, or we can camp now, let the men get some sleep, and make the rest of the march in a single go. Opinions?"
"Between those two choices?" Captain Numitor asks. "Speak up, brother officers, does anyone wish to take the position before our noble commander that we should force the troops to march on overnight instead of halting, eating, and making a solid day's journey on a solid evening's sleep? Anyone? No?"
Numitor looks solemn. "Commander, I think I speak for all of us when I say that in our best judgement and after the fullest deliberation necessary, we all believe that halting for the day is the best course for us to swim at this juncture. We hope you concur with this evaluation."
None of the other officer speaks, although a few smile.
Vere nods. "Very well, see to it. Set up a rotation of watches, as well. I doubt we are in danger here on the stair to Rebma, but it never pays to be careless, and it is a good thing to get the men used to always setting a watch, wherever we may be. Castor, a word with you."
The officers depart to do Vere's bidding. They are relaxed and not overly concerned, but they do not neglect the required tasks.
After the captains leave to settle their men Vere asks Castor, "What do you think the men made of the shadow that passed over us as we left Rebma? Will they take that as an omen? And if so, of what sort?"
"Hmm? Oh, yes, I saw that, too. I thought it was a triton swimming overhead. It was either on its own business, or it was there from the Queen, to watch us be off. If it had been an Orca, it might have been some sort of omen."
Vere smiles slightly and nods, then turns to look at the massive stone throne. "What of this chamber? Some of the men seemed..." Vere pauses for a moment to choose the proper word, and finally settles upon "...disturbed when we arrived here. That was my real reason for asking the officers their opinions of camping here. I wondered if they might have reservations about this place."
"I asked one of the sergeants about that. He says that there's a place that is described thusly in some Seaward myths, a chamber deep under a mountain dedicated to 'The Queen of Air and Darkness' with a throne and an altar for blood sacrifices. From a certain angle, the stones over there do look like a throne, don't they? But I think the reality is that the men aren't used to being this closed in, not while marching. We couldn't fight off anything that came on us on the stairs, or not very well.
"I think the men are also a bit jittery about the tasks ahead. For all their bravado, most of them haven't ever been above water before. It's an alien experience they're not all looking forward to."
"A little concern is to be expected. But let us see what we can do to help calm them a bit." Vere and Castor will make the rounds, asking after the men, assisting in setting up camp, commenting on their weapons and laughing at their jokes. Vere is keeping an eye out for anyone who seems more worried than called for in the current situation, and if there are any such people he will subtly sound them out about the nature of their concerns.
The biggest concerns that are voiced are by men who are not sure how they will fare in the exotic dry land fighting ahead.
Once camp is set up and the watch established Vere will tell them more tales of the surface, with an emphasis on the ways that clever and resourceful men can always triumph over the dangers of nature. He'll encourage them to compare and contrast the dangers of the ocean and those of the surface, the differences in hunting behavior between sharks and wolves, the dangers of poisonous serpents and their similarities and differences to sea snakes, the proper safety procedures for a camp fire, and so on and so forth.
The men seem to eat this up, getting over their initial subdued reaction.
As time progresses and the majority of the men drift off to sleep, Vere will rise and walk over to the throne. He examines it closely, looking for any changes since the last time he was here.
It's not quantifiable, but Vere feels as if there is some difference.
And then, with a short decisive nod, he closes his eyes, extends his arms towards the throne, and says quietly, "Lady. Are you here? Can you hear me?"
There is no reply.
Vere makes certain that everyone has had a chance to get enough sleep before they continue to climb the staircase. Once they do set off, he takes the lead, paying attention to any small changes that might have occurred since he came down the staircase. He remembers the Rebmans who had accompanied him saying that some things had changed between when they went up the staircase and when they returned, and he is interested to see if that process is continuing, or if the stairway seems to have settled into a final form.
They walk upwards for hours, the tunnel passage around the stairway most often narrow, occasionally widening out into wider passages. Light is provided throughout the long day's worth of walking by a series of twin torches set into the walls of the stairway.
Finally they come through an archway into a wide cave. A single torch lights this chamber, and a narrower, somehow rougher stairway leads upwards out of the other end. Vere tells the men, "We are nearly there. Everyone take a brief rest here. This passage is very steep, and curves. It is around 200 feet long, the final part of it is going to be in complete darkness. While we rest here I want those of you who have been above to the surface to remind everyone else of what you have been told about breathing air. Do not panic when you feel the water fall away from you, and remember that you can injure yourself if you fall. The air does not hold you up in the same way that water does. Are there any last minute questions?"
Then Vere will lead the way up the final stretch, moving slowly and carefully once he enters the area of darkness, remembering the exact distance and the curve of the walls. When he is about 30 feet below the surface he stops and tells the men to wait where they are.
He walks upwards alone, emptying the water from his lungs just before his head breaks the surface, and breathing in deeply. Then he walks unerringly in the darkness to the stone bench, and feels for the lantern that was left there. He reaches into his pouch and takes out his flint and steel, and lights the lantern.
As the light of the lantern illuminates the darkness of the cavern Vere looks around, searching for any signs that anyone has been in this place since Jerod and he were here. Then he lifts the lantern and wades back to the head of the stairs, and waves for Castor to lead the men up into the air.
Vere had expected it to be a harder climb for the men, it being uphill, but it was an easy walk. He finds no sign of passage, but the artifacts are--different. The benches seem more regular and less rough-hewn, as does the arch leading to the pool that leads downwards.
Vere gives the men enough time to become accustomed to breathing above the surface, and the strangeness of sounds in air and the rapid way things fall when they are released. Before they become too enraptured at the game of tossing things back and forth he tells them it is time to go, and leads them outwards and upwards. They wade through the water running through the series of caves, and Vere never pauses for a second when faced with a choice of directions.
Finally they come to the final cavern, and Vere leads them through the vegetation hanging over and covering the opening, and they stand outside, under an open sky. Vere looks around, judging the time of day, and his gaze goes to the cairn by the riverside marking the location of the cave, and then to the twin guard towers on either side of the river.
The towers are unmanned, although Vere thinks there has been recent activity here. The men scramble to the bank, squinting in the moonlight. The lights of Paris are visible in the distance.
Two men are detailed to head to Paris and report to King Corwin. "It is not quite proper etiquette to march through a monarch's lands without bothering to inform him," Vere notes dryly. "Give the king my greetings, and tell him that we shall, by his leave, be remaining in his kingdom for one or two days before marching on to Amber. Answer whatever questions the king may have for you. We shall continue down the river away from the city until we find a good place for a camp, it should be simple for you to locate us once you have been dismissed by the king."
The messengers, two of the men with some surface experience who've been designated as scouts [ooc: did we make one squad a scout squad or are they distributed throughout the ranks?], head upriver towards the city.
[Currently they are distributed throughout the ranks. That may change in the future, depending on how we end up using scouts, but for the time being it is more valuable to have men with surface knowledge spreading their knowledge to as many of their fellows as possible.]
Once the messengers have been sent on their way Vere and Castor lead the band downriver, searching for a good campsite. Vere observes their reactions to the surface world as they march, looking for signs of how well they are adapting.
There are a few falls, and the men seem somewhat clumsy, but Vere expects that will pass. Castor suggests some weapons drill would be useful, but not until the men are confident of their footing.
That's the reason for the plan to spend two to three days in camp before moving out.
Before much time has passed, the troop is marching slowly by moonlight. Soon thereafter, the troop crests a hill and sees a large clearing, well suited to camping. So well suited that it has a campground in it. Tied up on the bank of the river is a barge; a dog barks from the prow.
"Captain Creon, you're in charge of establishing the camp. Without intruding upon the area already being occupied, however. Castor, come with me. We shall pay a visit on our hosts." Vere heads for the campground, shouting out, "Halloo the camp!"
The dog barks more loudly, and Vere sees people stirring near a small fire.
"Halo, Halo," says a man by the fire. He's got shaggy brown hair and is dressed in a patched sweater. Near him is a woman and three young men. They are all smiling. "You come to trade, yes?"
His Thari is heavily accented.
Vere nods in a friendly fashion as he and Castor approach the fire. "We should be happy to speak of trade," he says, his eyes going over them quickly, looking for any signs that they are anything other than the traders they appear to be. "My men and I prepare to march to a distant land. I trust you will not mind sharing this fine campground with a small band of warriors. I assure you they are disciplined and well behaved." He smiles and nods once more, this time to the woman.
"Not at all! We would be happy to share the spot; it will be better protected in that way. You can join us for a meal and we can discuss if we have any small items or news of the course of the river that would be useful to you. Come, join us."
The man seems genuinely pleased to see you.
"You came from the city ahead, did you not? How does she fare?"
"She is a jewel among cities. Have you visited her before, or shall this be your first time?"
They like Vere's answer. "We are not from here. We come far upriver, from the low countries. This is our first trip this far. We are told Paris is a great trading city. We expect much from her. And yet, we would be willing to go the last miles with our pouches full and our boat empty, if it turned out that trade came our way before we reached Paris..."
"I shall be most happy to look over your wares. Do you carry clothing for travel? My men are used to a placid climate, and I am leading them to a place where heavy rain is not unknown. I had planned to equip them at a stop we will make before our final destination, but it will do them no harm to become accustomed to heavier clothing more quickly."
His grin is wide and his smile is great. "We have cloth, yes! Good Beveland wool!" He laughs. "It keeps the sheep dry, now you, eh?" He asks a fair price for his goods. He also has some meat and tobacco, but yards of wool is the bulk of his cargo. It would make good blankets, cloaks, and in some cases, tents.
Vere bargains with him to buy in bulk, and once the camp is set up calls the captains over to examine the material as well. He ends up purchasing enough to make each man a blanket and cloak, and a variety of tents.
And Vere will ask his name and the names of his associates, and ask about the places they have travelled, while they discuss the material and haggle over prices.
The man, Clovis and his wife Hilde are river traders. They usually trade in the low countries to the north, but they just decided to see how trade was upriver. On the way they heard much of a city of light that was full of great riches. Bertran, Clovis's son by first wife, is aboard with his children.
The haggling is good natured, especially since the quantity is a significant portion of Clovis' stores. He throws in some foodstuffs, mostly wine and some kind of sausage, as well.
Assuming you make the bargain, the men take their goods and set up camp. In the morning, Clovis and his barge depart. The early morning rain is at first alarming and later amusing to the Rebmans.
[How long do you stay and what do you do? Some of the men are getting used to their cloaks.]
The Children will be spending two full days camped here, during which time they will be engaged in weapons practice and drill, will run obstacle courses to work on their breathing and endurance in a gaseous environment, and will get intensive lessons on such practicalities as the uses and dangers of fire and reminders about the impossibility of leaping off high places and expecting to swim through the air. Scouts and pickets will be set out every night.
The drill goes well. At Castor's suggestion, competitions are set up for the units to provide motivation to excel.
On the morning of the third day they will set off downriver. Vere explains to the captains that they will be following the river to the shore of the ocean, and then turning to follow the coast to Amber. He gives strict instructions that during this march, scouts will only be sent out when the band pauses. He repeats this for emphasis - NO scouts are to leave the main body during the march to Amber.
The two scouts sent to Corwin return in the pre-dawn of the third day. They have a message to Vere from Corwin. It contains a request from him to carry a package to Random, and goes on to say that the package contains his card and that Vere should use it if he finds himself in need of it.
And then they set off. Vere mentally runs through everything he has been told about shadow shifting as they walk through the morning, and in the late morning, judging that they are by now far enough away from Paris for it to be possible, he leads the men around a bend in the river to see an osprey sitting in a tree near the riverbank, just where he knew it would be. And he thinks to himself, "That is one step closer to Amber."
The osprey launches itself out from the branch, crossing over the children and diving into the river. It comes up with a fish in its talons.
Vere allows no emotion to show on his face as he watches the osprey fly, but he treasures the feeling of triumph in his heart. Knowing he could shift shadow was one thing, but to actually do it is something else entirely. After a second he turns and says quietly to Castor, "That bird is an emblem, chosen for me by my lady love. I am thinking of changing my badge to match it."
Castor nods. "I've heard about flight. I find the very concept fascinating. The air is such thin stuff to hold aloft a living being."
[Head 'em up and move 'em out. What does Vere do while marching through shadow? Where does Vere want to arrive on the Real Earth?]
While Vere is in a hurry, he is greatly enjoying the experience of walking through Shadow, and will keep the changes small and subtle. A new type of flower here, a change in cloud formation there, and so on along the river to the coast, and then north along the coast. He has walked with Corwin through Shadow from Amber to Paris, and it never occurs to him to doubt that he can find his way back from Paris to Amber. The concept of being lost is just too alien to him for it to enter his head as a possibility.
He reinforces the order that during this march no scouts are to leave the main body of the band, he has no desire to lose men as the shadows shift. Scouts will be sent out to examine the surrounding countryside each night when they camp, and Vere will listen to their reports with interest.
Assuming that nothing of such interest as to justify a delay in the march occurs...
The march goes uneventfully. Your men learn about summer colds, how to roll when you trip, what happens when you drop glassware. Some of the better ones are starting to put the lessons together into a real understanding of the combat consequences of the difference between mass and displacement in different mediums.
Last modified: 11 November 2004