Vere Returns

The next morning everyone rises early, and Vere smiles at the air of anticipation that permeates the camp. They move off with a minimum of fuss, continuing along the coast past the great estates of Garnath, past Cabra, across the Oisen, and onward, past the marking stones for the old location of the Faiella-Bionin. He points out the castle once it becomes visible, and shortly thereafter the city sitting at the foot of Kolvir.

The Children circle well around the city, and unless someone is waiting to greet them with other instructiuons from King Random they will go about making camp.

The coastal plains of Garnath are well tended and perhaps more populated than the few Children who've been here before recall. If fivescore armed men marching on their capitol do not seem to alarm them, it is becuase the city is very large. The road to Amber is clear and pleasant. Not more than a mile from the city, three men on horseback wait at a crossroads. The obvious leader is Prince Bleys and he has two men from the Castle Guard with him--A stout officer named Commander Barrell and a guardsman named Rividaas.

Bleys calls out to Vere. "Greetings, Nephew! His sublime majesty asked me to meet you and review your troops and plans. I assume then, that on your journeys all went swimmingly?"

"I did not drown, your highness," Vere answers lightly. "May I present my tanist, Castor?" Assuming Bleys signals assent, and Vere is assuming that he will, he continues, "Prince Bleys, Castor of Rebma. Castor, his highness Bleys, my uncle. Castor, have the captains prepare the men for review."

He nods to Barrell and Rividaas then, and says, "A pleasure to see you again, gentlemen. We have come far since that first night after the Sundering, have we not?"

Rividas nods. Barrell smiles. "Nothing is burning today, my Lord."

And then turning his attentions fully back to Bleys, "Shall we review the troops first, uncle, and then speak of plans once they have been settled?"

Bleys agrees. "Commander?," he says in Barrell's direction. The two of them dismount. "The Commander is your liaison with Amber for the duration of your stay. We will review from the clever vantage point of 'beneath that shady tree'. Commander, fetch us a bottle of wine, so that we may better review things."

Vere follows Bleys towards the tree, a small smile on his face. He is interested in his uncle's opinions and advice, but feels no compulsion to somehow prove himself, and will happily allow Bleys to do most of the talking.

There is some grumbling, but nothing more than normal soldierly noise as the men line up, and march in stiff but good form past the reviewing tree. Bleys asks questions about training and organization, and asks Castor for every officer and sergeant's name as they pass. While Bleys drinks freely of the wine, he also makes excellent small-talk. He seems to have a good but outdated grasp of the makeup of the Rebma court and knows the sisters and mothers of a number of the Children of Lir. After the troops pass in review, Bleys turns to Vere. "An excellent troop, they look quite capable. Let us discuss your plans while they make camp."

"Castor, have the captains begin setting up camp, then return here for the discussion." As Castor leaves, Vere says in a lower voice, "I trust him as much as any of them, we may speak freely in front of him."

Bleys nods, absently.

When Castor returns Vere makes certain that he has wine, then turns to face Bleys. "The plan, currently, is to wait for Jovian to return, then find out how long it will be until his dragons are ready to fly." He pauses, then asks, "Do you know whether anyone has been able to do anything about M'Corli's eyes?"

"Who? Oh, yes, the knight. I hadn't heard of anything."

He waits for the answer to that question, then continues, "As soon as possible, I wish to be on our way, before I am drawn into any of the other vitally important issues that are no doubt occurring at this moment." He smiles briefly, then continues. "Admiral Worth captains a ship for us, as I am sure you know. We shall sail to the Isles, with Jovian's dragons providing air cover." Another quick smile, "And I am hoping that by doing this I can allow Jovian to do the actual work of leading us to the Isles, while I observe. I have no doubt of my ability to do it, but I suspect he might be quicker."

Bleys frowns. "He's got to pull all those dragons along with him. I wonder how well he can extend the way while he's in the air." His frown turns to a grin. "Of course, the dragons could swim in the wake of the flagship. It could be quite the parade of ducklings." He pauses. "Giant, firebreathing ducklings with saddles." He shakes his head as if trying to dislodge the image, then he sips his wine.

Vere takes a sip of the wine, then concludes. "Once we're in the Isles, we head for Methrin's Isle, which was my mother's base the last I heard. We endeavour to avoid confrontations until we have contacted her, and can determine the current situation." He shrugs. "What happens once we're actually in the Isles, of course, is subject to rapid change, should our foes prove so lacking in good will as to not go along with my plans."

[Bleys] nods. "You shall have to let me know if your foes are obliging."

"In the brief time we are here in Amber, I will complete the equipage of the men, and I hope to enlist Venesch and his men to put the men through some more training, against highly skilled warriors who have lived all their days above the waves."

He tilts his head to one side and regards Bleys. "Comments and suggestions are welcome, uncle."

Bleys nods. "Two questions. First, how will you protect against magical attack? And second, how will you protect your men from an enemy attack on your ship while you have, as it were, all your eggs in one basket?"

"Magical attacks have always been a concern in the Isles. Fortunately, forest combat, which is most of what we fight both on the Isles and on the mainland, is a lot of close-range combat and ambush work. Neither we nor the Easterners are usually much for set-piece battles. And a Witch-Queen dies just as fast with a sword in her as anyone else. Because of this, Witch-Queens, Priestesses and Sorceresses all prefer to send men to do their fighting for them in most cases, unless they believe they can obtain an unobstructed view of the battlefield from a place of relative safety." Vere shrugs. "This is simply the typical way of things, of course, and individual battles can proceed very differently, and one occasionally finds women of power who enjoy being in the thick of things. There is, alas, little I can do to protect against such attacks, other than order my men to act quickly to instantly slay any suspicious women they encounter. Hopefully they will react more quickly than any Witch-Queen we come up against. I regret the necessity, and I see the potential for regrettable errors in the field, but I feel this is the wisest course."

Bleys nods again. "I'd start mentioning that immediately, and reinforce it as much as you can. Rebman men may not be so ready to stab witches. The ways in which men and women can be homicidal there are more constrained than in many less-refined places."

Vere nods and glances at Castor. "The men will be so instructed," he says. It is as much an instruction as an answer.

Castor nods politely and says "Yes, Commander."

"As for the ship, this is the reason for travelling with a dragon escort. My hope is that we'll be able to use the dragons to spot enemy ships at a distance, and avoid contact with them. The dragons destroyed most of the Chancellor's fleet, and I am hoping that the rebels have very few ships to spare trying to blockade my mother's base, if they even know where it is."

He shakes his head. "I do not know if you have heard, uncle, of the possible problems that Jovian and Robin might have caused in the Isles by..." he pauses, then carefully continues, "..._interfering_ with the natural order. That being the case, I am reluctant to try the same thing. Which removes what might otherwise have been an advantage, I fear."

"No, but it sounds fascinating. I wouldn't have expected it of them, either." [Bleys] drinks some wine. "In what way did they interfere with this natural order? It's more than just 'having a man in charge,' I take it?"

Vere smiles grimly. "The Chancellor irritated Lady Robin, I fear. Not a wise thing to do." He takes another sip of wine, then says, "Castor, please introduce Commander Barrell and Guardsman Rividaas to the captains. The commander can fill them in on what regulations the men will be operating under while in Amber, and as he will also be serving as liaison now is a good time to begin speaking on times when the men may spar against the king's guardsman."

Castor nods and departs to complete his tasks.

He waits until he and Bleys are alone before continuing. "Lady Robin and her brother did some weatherworking while in the Isles, and I believe they pulled upon a few more threads of probability as well. Things appear to have gotten somewhat away from them. I do not know how serious the problem may be, and I do not have the mastery of the Pattern necessary to repair whatever..." he pauses, choosing the precise phrase he wants, "...rips in reality may have occurred. But I fear that attempts by myself to utilize the powers of the Pattern while in the Isles might only make the situation worse. I will not destroy the Isles while attempting to save my mother's throne."

"Reality is self-repairing, under almost all circumstances," Bleys says, not elaborating on the other case. "The problem is that in some cases the correction has a positive first order differential and in some cases, it's negative. The practical upshot is that sometimes reality corrects itself by fixing a shadow and in others by eliminating it. A real genius, like Father, could cause damage in a nearby shadow to perturb the interference patterns and invert the equations near both of them into a single positive formula.

"From a practical point of view. You can usually figure out by how the shadow is trending what the first order differential is, but it can be difficult to determine the rate of change of the rate of change, because the second order differential can act as a chaotic system. Even if things are getting better, you see, it's not clear that they won't take a sudden turn for the worse.

"This, by the way, is very important to know if you ever want to create a pocket shadow all of your own." He taps his finger aside his nose.

Vere listens with interest, his head tilted slightly to one side. Once his uncle has finished speaking he says, "You realize, of course, that I have only the vaguest idea of what you have said? The few things that Father has ever said to me on this topic have dealt more with intuition and simply 'feeling' the correct thing to do. You are speaking of them in a far more intellectual fashion, using terms that I recognize but in ways that I do not."

[Bleys] nods. "Doubtless your father has the right of it, and it was how many of my siblings were taught. Some hold that a theorist is of no use without a solid history of praxis to compare the theories to. Others think that there is no finesse, no understanding, and no strength if you learn solely by rote. I am opposed to the distinction, and favor all knowledge.

"For the most part, students who have walked the pattern within a month seldom know that they have more to learn. You should consider yourself lucky, in that respect."

Vere smiles and nods, "Fortunate to have so much to look forward to learning, and fortunate to know it," he agrees.

On Tirsday morning, 13th Coins, at a time which would not be considered early by those who practice Amber's state religion of hawser and holystone, Jovian is walking the halls of the castle with a mug of mixed chocolate and coffee in one hand, a penny loaf of rye bread in the other. By the time his feet carry him unhurriedly to the Phantom Trumpbooth, he holds the bread internally along with half the coffee, and despite a rather rough night feels a bit more ready to face the worlds.

What he faces instead is a portrait - almost a miniature - of a petite redhead, on display in a locked room. He sets his mug down and reaches out to touch.

Fiona, canny sorceress, keeper of mysteries and light of my father's dour heart...I stand in our gallery and touch your sigil. Will you speak with me...?

Jovian feels the slightest touch back on his mind, perhaps a feminine laugh, but then nothing. The trump connection does not open. It could have been his imagination.

He reaches for it as it fades - not pressing exactly, not harsh enough to be rude (it does not do to be rude in mental contact to someone who can fry your brain), but certainly with determination enough to demonstrate an earnest need. He is prepared to keep trying until he is certain there is no getting through.

There is no further response.

[Bleys and Vere go to the castle by means too prosaic to actually discuss, leaving the tanist and the guards to liaise. Bleys goes off on some personal business, leaving Vere to choose his own destination inside the recently partially remodeled ancient ancestral rockpile.]

[Where to next, oh my prince?]

Vere's first act will be to locate Random and request an audience.

Random is available and will see you.

[Do you have a list of errands to accomplish or do you intend to play it by ear? We'd like to summarize enough of this to get you moving and into that far-flung war without sacrificing scenes you should or want to run...]

Vere's plans for his discussion with Random are:

1) Hand over the package from Corwin.

["Ohh. Cookies!]"

"Thank you, Vere." He palms the card.

2) Inform Random of what is going on in Rebma, including Queen Moire's mention of the word "Xanadu," the story of the murder of Lady of the Neapward Banks, and the attack on Jerod. He'll explain that it's his belief that Moire intended her mention of the name to be a message of some sort to Random, since she has to have known he would report it to the King once he heard that his new realm has that name. Perhaps a reminder of the efficiency of her spy network, and an implied threat? He won't explain where he received the information on the murder, unless backed into a corner, merely report that it comes from a source he trusts, who cannot be called upon to testify.

He doesn't seem pleased about the former, and asks Vere what he plans to do about the latter.

"I have given all this information to Jerod, now I have given it to you. I assume you will pass it on to Martin, and to the queen if you think it wise. What more can I do? I cannot take the time from my duty to my mother's realm to take a hand in this now, even if there was something I could do in Rebma." Vere shrugs. "If the situation has not resolved by the time I return my men to Rebma, I will reconsider the matter."

"Martin? He left Rebma ages ago. How does this involve Martin?" If Random was unpleased before, he's definitely surprised by this take.

Vere raises an eyebrow, but shows no other signs of being surprised by the king's response. "Rebma was his home for some years, your majesty, and even if he is not planning on returning I am certain he will wish to know what is occurring there before hearing it from someone idly talking on the streets of Amber or Xandadu. Especially since, as I understand it, he had friends in the Libertist movement. Since the public excuse for the suppression of that movement appears to have been manufactured through this murder, perhaps with royal sanction..." Vere shrugs. "Martin is not an easy person to know, but I cannot help but think he would become at least mildly perturbed if he thought such information had been kept from him."

Random nods. "I'll bring it up when we next speak. He's en route to Xanadu now."

Vere nods, accepting this without comment.

3) Ask briefly, without in any way offering to assist, if there has been any progress on the investigation of the murder of Harga'rel or the disappearance of Aisling.

["King Random, Vere's trumping to know is everything ok with the alien space chick from Planet Madoc or should we just go ahead and destroy Rebma?"
"Tell him yes on one and no on two."
"Which one was yes, go ahead and destroy Rebma... or number 2?"]

Aisling was killed when a Lord of Chaos attempted to pull her bodily from a secure location where she was being held. Hargarel's murderer is still at large.

Vere's gaze slides to a point above and behind Random's left shoulder as he hears this. He does not pursue either matter any further.

4) Request official permission to depart Amber as soon as everyone can be supplied and made ready.

"Ok. For the record, I want you to check in (or be checked in upon) on a frequent basis. Will your father be handling that?"

"I fear he will have to do so, as I do not have a trump for anyone else..." And Vere lets that statement hang there. You never know....

["Don't look at me, you've got friends who are trump artists, and you haven't ponied up the point for one of Dworkin's specials..."]

I'm happy to play it or summarize, or whatever combination the GMs prefer. Considering the way Vere tends to circle around things, if we ran the whole thing I could easily imagine this conversation with the king taking us until sometime in early 2005 to finish....

I'm just as happy to shake things up and send you off to your d-- the wars ASAP.

Go, ye heroes, go to glory...

Immediately after leaving the king's presence Vere seeks out Gerard. He knocks on the door and calls out, "Father? It is Vere."

"Vere!" Gerard calls out. "Come in!" By the time Vere has opened the door and gotten into Gerard's office, Gerard has already rolled halfway to the door to meet him. The older man takes his son's midsection in a ferocious, breath-expelling bear hug.

Vere chuckles and returns the hug.

When he releases Vere, he says, "They told me you'd gone to see Random. I've been waiting for you to shake free."

"Indeed, Father," Vere begins, "I would have come to you first but..."

Then a strange look comes over Gerard's face and he holds up a hand and says, "Bide," to Vere, and "Who is it?"

There is a pause, and then Gerard says, "Yes," and reaches out. Then there is a hand in his and Solange is stepping through to stand by Gerard. He catches her up in a bear hug as ferocious as the one he just gave Vere.

She makes an exaggerated exhale as Gerard squeezes, then laughs and kisses him on the cheek. "Thanks for bringing me through."

"I'm glad you and your brother are both home at the same time. We have a lot to talk about."

Solange looks over her shoulder and sees Vere for the first time. Her face lights up. "Vere! Hey, what good timing on my part!" (OOC: Or not, from Vere's point-of-view. :-) She gives him a hug and kiss on the cheek, too.

She steps back so she can see both of them, the smile still on her face. "So, how are both of you?"

Vere is grinning, perhaps the first time Solange can remember such unguarded emotion on his face. He's wearing dark grey breeches tucked into knee-high leather boots, with a deep blue tunic over a light grey shirt, held in by a thick black leather belt. His hair is worn long, and the only immediately obvious change from the last time Solange has seen him are the two locks of coloured hair over his right temple, one red and one grey. She might recall that at their breakfast with Robin he wore two feathers in his hair, in exactly the same place.

"Well, look at you," she grins back at Vere, taking in his appearance, her eyes lingering on the colored locks. Solange makes a mental note to ask him about them and Robin later. "You look more like Father every time I see you," she continues, looking at his clothes. "Those colors do suit you."

She's wearing a dark gold shirt under a black fitted jacket. The shirt tucks into high-waisted dark grey pants. Her shoes are black and comfortable. While Vere is wearing his hair long, Solange has had hers cut. It looks somewhat like Robin's now.

"It is good to see you again, Sister," he says. "I am well, although here for a brief time only. Within the next few days I shall be leading my men to war in the Isles. I feared I would have no chance to speak with you before that."

The grin drops from her face. "Leading men to war in the Isles? Is this still in regard to reinstating your mother?"

Gerard nods, and says, "Aye. It's one of the many things we needs must speak of. But there are two others neither of ye know. One concerns the realm, and the other is specific to our family. For the latter, the Unicorn has sent us a healer, and she's agreed to look into my case. For the former, though ... Vere, did the King speak to ye of Xanadu?"

Vere tilted his head to one side at the news of the healer, but he follows Gerard's lead and speaks of matters concerning the realm first. "Indeed, I have heard of the new kingdom. Although I had heard the name first from the Queen of Rebma. And what message she intended to send to King Random through revealing her knowledge to me, I do not know."

Solange's eyes go involuntarily to her father's legs at the mention of a healer, then up to Vere as he answers Gerard's question. "Xanadu? I think there was a night club by that name in Lauderville..." she muses, then shakes her head to clear it. "So, Uncle Random was successful in creating a new pattern, I take it?"

Gerard nods. "He says there was no way to repair the Pattern here, so he took Corwin's chance. There's to be tour sometime soon, with an eye to moving the lot of us to this new place. Martin and Folly have been there, and they're riding back to bring people in by Trump."

He adds to Vere, "Moire has uncanny ways of knowing things. I'm not surprised she divined this in advance."

[Vere will gather that Solange and Gerard must have had some discussions about what Random might be up to, either after his departure or by Trump.]

"Is there anything about Xanadu that we need to know now, Father, other than its existence? Or may we turn to the matter of this Unicorn-sent healer?"

Solange looks back at Gerard.

"The Unicorn helped her find the Pattern and the family. I hardly think that means she was 'sent' in the way ye mean, Vere," Gerard says, with the mildest hint of reproof in his voice. "Her name is Hannah, she's of the royal blood, and she seems to be competent enough at her craft. She's helped me with Solace's fainting spells and with the Queen. She's also looking into my case, and she's been asking about my next of kin. I know she'll want to speak with you both.

"My apologies, Father," Vere replies with only a very, very faint trace of humour in his voice. I misinterpreted your statement that, 'the Unicorn has sent us a healer, and she's agreed to look into my case.' I do occasionally leap to conclusions, a fault I must guard against."

"Father, has she come to any conclusions?" Solange asks.

"None concerning permanent cures," Gerard replies. "But she thinks I need to change my pain medication. We're both going to want to go to Xanadu, to see what the technology level will be, and whether refined medications will last longer there, or if we're really lucky, whether they can be manufactured locally."

Solange will recall the difficulties they've had with medical technology during the Sundering, and the efforts she had to go to the keep the wheelchair she imported for her father in good working order. The degradation of tech has been an issue all along, but Xanadu may have different physical laws, as Gerard suggests.

"That sounds promising. At least Xanadu can't be any more hostile to technology than Amber is," Solange says wryly, patting the wheelchair. Then she frowns and looks up at her foster father. "What's this about your pain medication? Changing it how?"

Vere nods slowly as his father speaks. Healing that can occur according to the laws of the actual site of the Pattern, perhaps that's the trick they've been looking for.

"I've been limited in what medications I can take reliably because of conditions here, and because higher-technology imports haven't been available consistently. Hannah's worried that I'm addicted to what I've been taking. She's right to worry, but there's been nothing we could do until now," Gerard replies, with emphasis on the last bit.

[OOC: both Vere and Solange should be aware he's been taking morphine.]

"Father, if either technology or magic that can heal your legs will operate in Xanadu, a place that has its own Pattern, then surely the healing done under such laws will last upon the Pattern?" Vere asks.

"_Are_ you addicted?" [Solange] asks Gerard pointedly, not having kept up with where Vere is steering the conversation. Concern is evident on her face.

"I won't know for certain whether I'm addicted until I try to stop taking the medicine," Gerard replies to Solange. "But I'd be surprised if I weren't." He adds to Vere, "That's what I hope--and that the natural laws are different."

Vere nods, still focusing on the matter of natural laws and their implications. To him, the problem of addiction is minor, it simply does not occur to him that Gerard's will is not sufficiently strong to break free. Gerard, to him, has always been the man who can do anything.

Solange chews on her bottom lip for a moment, gazing at her father, then forces a smile. "There's good reason to suspect they'll be better, so, yes, let's focus on that for now. Look, I don't know about either of you, but I'm starving. Either of you interested in getting something to eat?" she asks, in a gallant attempt to change the subject. "Father, was there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

"Oh, whatever pleases you, Solange. Vere and I have military matters to discuss, but we can save that until after dinner. That kind of talk is better for the digestion than the appetite. Shall I send down to the kitchen?" Gerard asks, quite willing to let Solange direct the conversation for now.

Vere will be seeking Jovian [very soon] after his meeting with Random. How much of this do we want to gloss over, and how much do we want to play it out? I'm fine either way.

I'm agnostic on the point. Feel like giving me a list of your agenda items and we'll decide whether to play or summarize on each?

1) Finding out how long it will be until the wing is ready to move.

There's some last minute provisioning and other things to double-check, but the wings could lift in a matter of hours. Except that....

2) Inquiring about M'Corli, and suggesting that, if no one here has been able to do anything, the sorceresses of the Isles are the logical place to turn next.

Jovian notes that while Fiona said she'd have a look at him, interrupting her while Brita was missing seemed...unwise. And now she's not answering - so, yes, if the Lady's priestesses are familiar with the witch-queens' methods, that would be the next step.

Vere will inquire, delicately, whether it is currently safe for M'Corli to be flying. If not, then having him travel with the Children of Lir while Antrith flies with the dragons will provide a means of constant communication between the two forces.

Jovian considers it safe for M'corli to fly - the dragon's eyes matter more than the rider's except in combat and other extraordinary situations, and there is no question of hellriding in any case. Still, he allows, there is merit to having a rider as liaison aboard the ship. He agrees to discuss it with M'corli.

3) Asking, oh so casually, how everyone in Jovian's family is doing....

Dad's fine, Daeon's still an idiot, Paige has had the kids...am I forgetting anyone? ;-D

Vere smiles and nods, acknowledging the touch, and then comes out and asks directly how Robin is, what she was doing the last time Jovian saw her, and whether there is any word on how the Arcadian war progresses.

"She was very well when I saw her yesterday," Jovian smiles, but he cannot quite hide the shadow of concern in his eyes. "Eager for news of you and positively soaring when she had it." He pauses a moment, considering how to proceed.

"I won't lie to you and say that things are going easily or smoothly down there, Vere," he admits. "You'd see through it instantly. But my sister is quick, strong and shrewd, and determined to return to you when her job is done. And she has my Trump, so there's even a chance we'll hear from her before we return from the Isles."

"Robin is astoundingly competent," Vere says calmly. "And while she often acts without pausing for a careful consideration of her actions, her instincts are good, and I suspect that in her current situation too much consideration would be a hindrance, not an aid. I have no doubt that she will prove equal to whatever she encounters."

He unconsciously reaches up and stroked the braided locks of red and grey in his otherwise dark hair. And he smiles.

Jovian smiles with him, and as his attention is drawn to the streaks of color, his gaze lingers. A tilt of his head asks the unspoken question.

"A memento of my walk," he says, the smile remaining. Not an explanation, certainly, but Vere does not seem inclined to elaborate.

Jovian nods, not so much dismissing as filing that for later, more casual conversation.

4) Making plans to introduce the Rebmans and the Calusans.

A very good idea indeed. Jove mentions the location of the atoll, but acknowledges that it's easier for the riders to come in than the infantry to go out. This can be coordinated at will.

The sooner the better, in Vere's opinion.

Jovian notes that tomorrow is Freeday, as good a time for visiting as any.

5) Coordinating the dragonriders, the Rebmans, and Lord Worth, so that everyone knows what everyone else is doing.

Following above, Jove proposes a working dinner to allow the wingleaders and officers to get used to each other a bit, brief and strategize.

What about using the Naval? It has excellent facilities, and Vere is a member. If Jovian is agreeable Vere will send messengers to tell the Naval to expect a large party (the Grand Dining Hall is called for), to inform Castor and the Captains that they should be there, and inquiring if Lord Worth can be ready for a meeting with everyone at such short notice.

Jovian's only hesitation is that his wingleaders will be coming in by dragon, bound to cause a stir in town. He resolves to discuss the public safety angle with Sir Archer - the dragons are accustomed to gawkers, but not scared ones. If there is an open square or public green convenient to the Naval, perhaps the city watch would be good enough to clear it briefly. Again, he suggests that tomorrow evening would be more suitable than tonight.

Vere nods. "I am letting me eagerness to be away get the best of me. Very well, tomorrow for the meeting and coordination of the troops, tomorrow night for dinner for the captains and wingleaders. We can arrange a suitable landing field for the dragons with Sir Archer." He smiles again. "If a public announcement is made beforehand much of the city will turn out to watch the dragons land, we can turn it from a potential fright for the citizens into an occasion for a holiday. No doubt there will be street sellers eager to use this as an occasion to sell small carved dragons to eager children."

"Good thought!" Jovian laughs freely. "Just as long as the dragons don't Search any of the eager children...." His voice trails off under a bit of a cloud.

Vere raises an eyebrow, but does not inquire regarding Jovian's change in mood unless the dragonrider seems inclined to speak upon it.

He shakes it off, again filing under 'Later.'

6) Discussing the Aisling affair. This will need to wait until I find out what Vere was told by Random.

Errr.

Best played out.

And at some point during the discussion Vere pauses and cocks his head to one side, regarding Jovian silently for a moment. Then he says, "I have been told that Dame Aisling's fate is now known, and given the vaguest outline of what occurred. I am very saddened to hear of it."

A cascade of emotions fly across the dragonman's face - grief, anger and deep regret the dominant notes, but leavened with dearer sentiments - in the span of half a second before the tumult is silenced with a very Julianic sort of closure. "I had expected the news or something like it for weeks, but I only heard yesterday. She will be missed."

"Are there arrangements for a memorial service? And..." Vere pauses, then continues, "I wondered if she might have left any personal possessions behind. Do you know if she did?"

Jovian's brows draw together, confusion and something darker taking over from pain. "You will forgive me, brother, if I ask why you want to know," he says, low and level.

"I do not feel I truly understood her," Vere explains. "I cannot help but wonder if there was something I could have said, something I could have done differently, to assist her in settling in, that would have made things go more smoothly. I took her to myself as a friend, but I had to leave when she most needed guidance. I hope that, if there is anything that was important to her, that would have some sort of tie to her, I might come to understand her more fully."

His brow smooths somewhat and his eyes close. "We could all stand to do that, Vere," Jovian says softly, the wound there obviously still tender.

"I don't know if anything formal is planned," he continues, eyes opening and clear. "I presume any personal effects of hers have been packed up, subject to careful sorcerous examination whenever a senior redhead in residence has time. I...have not inquired," he finishes, with an undercurrent of expectation that his inquiries would be rebuffed.

"I do not wish to reopen wounds," Vere says quietly. "And there is little time, and the living have a greater claim upon us than the dead. But if the Knights of the Ruby do not hold such a service, I doubt anyone else shall."

"I know. You and Folly have similar thoughts on the matter, though I'm not sure my brethren all share them," Jovian reflects aloud, fussing a little with his ruby signet. "I have conveyed my wishes in the way of a memorial to Folly, in case I am unable to return and carry them out myself...but I expect such things will have to wait until the family has reassembled. Probably in Xanadu."

"Xanadu might be best in any case," Vere replies. "A memorial in a place of new beginnings, rather than in a place that might one day be no more than a memory itself." His eyes go to Jovian's hand, and he muses quietly, "I wonder what became of her ring?"

"As do I," Jovian admits. "If she was wearing it when she...died," he considers with something more than the usual discomfort at the word, "then her father would have it now."

"Indeed? Was her father, then, the one who attempted to free her from her prison? The King was somewhat vague on this point."

"I understand Clarissa was involved," Jovian notes, seeming disinclined to take it further.

"Ah," says Vere. He does not pursue the matter.

On Thirstday evening, all those relatives currently in resience in Amber recive thick vellum envelopes, sealed with the St Vire signet. This is also delivered to selected courtiers too, and several of the nobility who reside in the city, including Lady Vesper and Lady Hardwind.

When opened, each are found to contain a thick sheet of card, edged with gold, and illustrated at the bottom right corner by a child's drawing, each one individual (and quite simple - sun, moon, rainbow), with the word Hope laboriously printed underneath.

The wording of the card says (in a beautiul copperplate hand), "The Marquis and Marquise de St Vire take great pleasure in inviting you to attend a Children's Concert aid of the Orphans of Garnath.

Starday, between None and Vespers.

Dress: Appropriately

RSVP

Each card has a personal message on the back, from Lucas or Solace - or sometimes both. Solace's notes tend to be polite expressions of her hopes to see people and that the concert will give pleasure, written in a careful schoolgirl hand. Lucas' comments to be terser, and written in black ink.

For example, the one to Brennan says simply, "I place myself further in your debt, don't I?"

Brennan's response is equally terse: "Very much so."

The King sends his regrets, but the Queen her acceptance, in Ember's hand.

Both the doting grandmothers will be there, as will Lady Hardwind. It is one of the first social occasions, if not the first, she has attended since her husband's death.

Cambina sends back polite regrets, but her comment to Brennan is "I'd rather chew my own arm off. Or, preferably, Lucas'."

"Now, is that any way to repay the man who threw his ear between you and Dara's deck?" Brennan asks, with a glimmer in his eye.

"Have you heard the rumors that it is becoming fashionable in some quarters to self-mutilate to match him?" She shakes her head. "People are stupid."

"Remarkably polite, though, to make it so clear," Brennan says. "Now all you have to do is ask someone to take off his hat if you want to know how stupid he is."

"Heh. That's not enough signal to get above the background noise. People are amazingly creative in their flavors of stupidity. They don't stick to simple indicators."

Merlin will attend.

Gerard will attend. Lucas suspects this is family spirit and showing the flag rather than actual interest in the proceedings.

Caine and Bleys plead the King's business in their regrets. Bleys' regrets are accompanied by a generous draft on the royal treasury.

Lucas reads the responses to Solace, who is resting on a comfortable chaise longe, wearing a dress of soft blue, and a wonderfully embroidered shawl spread elegantly across her legs. Philippe and Hope are not present; they are practising for the concert - and can be heard all too clearly from the distant part of the suite.

"One can only hope that the old theatrical saw about disastrous dress rehersals betokening glittering opening nights is true," says Lucas with a slight wince as some particularly discordant note resounds.

"Now, my sweet, we just need to hear from the other cousins ... "

Hannah's reply comes on plain paper. The writing is excruiatingly neat - the doctor must focus to not scribble.

All the StVire's ~

Thank you for inviting me. I would be happy to attend, and for such a worthy cause at that. Please tell Hope her drawing is adorable.

Hannah Le Corbeau

And then via a page to King Random,

Your Majesty,

You did say anything I needed...

I need a donation for the orphans.

You know where to find me, (or, well, a page does.)

Hannah.

[Random replies]:

One: I did.

Three: I do.

Two: What do they need?

--R

[Hannah replies]:

R--

Two: Money. Love. You provide the money and I'll provide the love. Probably shoes, too, but that's a bulky thing to take to a party, a bunch of shoes, when you don't know what sizes to get. You could go down there and teach them how to play the drums, I bet they'd like that. But what I need from you for me to give to them is money.

Thanks, I know you'll come through for me!

Hannah.

H--

No one needs money. It's only intrinsically good for beating into jewelry and it's not the best source of gold for that. People want money to do things with, and Kings often have ways that don't involve money to achieve those aims.

--R
PS As a niece of mine, you can draw against the treasury for small amounts without even mentioning it to me. Talk to Cambina if you need guidelines about what money is worth what here.

R--

Thank You! (I will find out what it really is they need. Besides love.)

Hannah

[Random replies]:

Don't mention it. Actually, do mention it, because I still don't know what I need to do. Don't mention it afterwards.
--R

Thirstday, 6th Coins

To the Marquis and Marquise St Vire from Sir Jovian Juliani, KCOR, warmest greetings.

Gentle cousin:

I receive your invitation with gratitude and a measure of uncertain regret. As you are surely aware, our cousin Vere has returned in force. I fear that my leisure is limited by my oath and his haste. If his timetable and the preparations of the King's First Air Corps permit, it will be my pleasure and privilege to join you Starday evening. In any case, know by the token you wil find herewith that I hold your family and your cause in the highest regard.

With the highest esteem for your and yours, I remain

Yr obdt svt

Jovian

Folded into the note is a draught against Jovian's military officer's pay on account with the Royal Exchequer, in an amount neither unduly modest nor ostentatious.