Gerard does not call [Solange] back. Behind her, she hears Kyril make his excuses--normally enough, to someone who didn't know him well--but he sounds a bit flustered and annoyed to Solange. Kyril hustles down the hall after Solange. When he's pretty sure he's out of earshot, he asks, "Are you okay?"
Solange stops striding and turns to face him. Her color is high. "Angry and frustrated and about to explode, but other than that, sure. Never in better health.
"Their reluctance doesn't make any sense to me, Kyril," she continues, waving Vere's trump sketch around rather wildly. "Information is information and at this early point it's all valuable, even if it's from the mouth of ghost. I have to wonder if instead I had been one of my male cousins they'd have let me do it."
Solange slumps back against the wall and grimaces. "Damn...I shouldn't have said that last bit to Father." She starts gesturing wildly again. "But I was so angry and I felt underestimated and the whole thing is a double standard--can't bring some of the Isles to Xanadu but we can bring other bits!--and I'm expected to be the good girl and just follow whatever all my elders say no matter how shortsighted and closeminded they are.
"Screw 'em. I think after this funeral is over we should go enjoy a long trip in shadow. A very long trip."
"It's amazing how a place this big can be so small, isn't it? I'm thinking this Corwin is mostly a creature of bad habit." He reaches out and brushes a strand of hair off her forehead. "But you're right, you don't have to put up with it, so don't."
Solange smiles at Kyril gratefully. "You're right, I don't. I love you. Now take this and see if you can activate it." She hands him the trump sketch of herself.
He takes the card. "Sure, where's the on switch?"
"Do you remember how you activated the Amber trump?"
He stares at the card. "OK, you all just sort of look..."
Solange feels the stirrings of a trump contact.
"Oh," says Kyril, aloud and in her head.
"Oh, indeed!" Solange replies enthusiastically.
She continues her conversation with Kyril mentally as she backs up from him.
/I'm going to contact Vere by trump and take Cambina to him. He'll raise Cambina and we'll ask her questions about what happened to her and about Queen Vialle. Meanwhile, you're going to wait for a certain amount of time to pass here in Xanadu and then contact me by my trump sketch and bring us back./
Kyril feels a wave of anticipation and excitement from her as she considers her plan.
Kyril gasps, surprised but not upset. "That's a neat trick, talking and not talking." he says. "How do you do it?" His voice echoes oddly inside and outside her head at the same time.
/Try thinking your response to me instead of talking./ Her amused mental laughter bubbles up over the connection.
/I damn well hope we get good answers from Cambina, because when it gets out that I did this I am going to be in apocalyptic amounts of trouble. Now reach for me and pull me through to you./
At the end of the hall, Solange holds out her hand to Kyril.
Kyril reaches out, looks up at her, and breaks the connection. "Damn! That didn't go right. Sorry, I thought I was going to drop the card." He smiles. "Again, teacher? I'm usually pretty good with my hands."
"Only usually, good doctor? Perhaps you need more practical experience," she teases, a twinkle in her eye. "I could have bolstered the contact more from my end, too. Let's try again."
"It's not as easy as it looks, which is good, because we don't want just anyone doing it."
Solange nods. "You'll let me know if you start experiencing negative reactions to this process, like heachaches, hallucinations, or whatever." She takes into account Kyril's inquisitive, research-based personality and does not phrase it as a question.
He stares at the card, and makes contact.
[OOC: Brain trump talking is an Amberite-only skill, and rare and hard. He will not get it. I'm not 100% sure it shows up in 5-book canon (canon-nazis, prove me wrong...).]
[OOC: Didn't know that about how this campaign handles trumps. Thanks.]
"Ok, let me try to think something at you."
There is a mass of fleeting images, but there's just no communication. Solange could, if she wished it, go in and read his thoughts directly, because he's just not an Amberite.
She decides not to push it that far--she doesn't know if something that blatant would harm him or not. More research is indicated.
Solange makes a mental note to corner one of her trump artist friends for a trump of herself to give to Kyril. Perhaps Lucas could be persuaded.
"I think it was hard because you were right there."
She reaches out to Kyril again.
He takes her hand. "Now what? Do I pull you or do you pull me?"
"Pull me through, please." She concentrates on keeping the contact solid in case Kyril's attention flutters again.
Kyril says "How do you do---" and pulls on Solange's hand, hard. He is off-balance and, as Solange reaches him, falls backwards, holding on to her hand.
"Ooof," he says, as she lands on top of him.
Solange laughs and lowers her face against his chest to muffle the sound.
"Oh, it's funny?", he says, his voice sounding amused. He reaches out and tickles her, on both sides of her ribs.
She grabs both his hands and pins them over his head. After an opportunistic kiss, she raises her head. "Just like that," she replies, smiling. "You've successfully completed the course material for Trump 101. Ready for the final?"
"Would it get us arrested for public indecency in Lauderville?"
"No, but It'll bring me out of shadow back to Xanadu."
Solange hears footsteps nearby. Not booted, probably a servant.
She quickly rolls off Kyril and to her feet and holds out a hand to help him up. "Hide the trump," she mouths to him.
"Olive Juice" he mouths back, or something like that. He removes a riding glove from a pouch at his belt, inserts the card, and puts it back.
She gives Kyril a quizzical look. "Wh--?"
Soren Daniels steps around the corner. "Ah, Lady Solange. Pardon me if I'm interrupting. Has there been any word from the King?"
Solange whirls to face Soren. "Oh. Um...no. You're not interrupting anything." She smiles at him and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've not heard anything from the King myself. Have you tried asking the regent?"
Soren nods. "I was on my way there, my Lady. With your permission?"
She nods. "Certainly."
Kyril watches him leave. "When I wandered into this place, I thought it was a deserted island. I was wrong about that, too."
Solange gives him another quizzical look. "Since when do you talk about things in vague terms, O Mr. Scientist? That's a tactic usually reserved for discussions about relationships." She pauses and smiles wryly. "C'mon. You can explain to me what the heck you're talking about as we walk back to the infirmary."
She locks her arm through his and starts off down the hall.
"Nonsense. For relationship talk I change the subject to something else, like the fact that this place is neither an island nor deserted. I'm just not used to living with so many people underfoot."
"Not even when you lived in the dorm at University?" Solange asks.
When they arrive at the infirmary, Solange hears her father engaged in a one-sided conversation. She pulls Kyril away from the door.
"Sounds like he's in a trump contact with someone," she whispers to him. "Why don't you go on in? He may not leave otherwise, not wanting to leave the body unattended."
Kyril nods, then reaches for the door handle. "You know it wasn't more than a century or two ago that most surgeons had a side-line in body snatching."
Solange raises an eyebrow.
He opens the door and goes in.
A few minutes later, his head pops out a side door, and he waves her towards him.
She walks over to him. "Coast clear?"
Putting his finger over his lips, Kyril opens the door. Cambina's body is on a wheeled litter.
He whispers urgently to her. "He's still talking in there. You should be quick."
She nods grimly. "Thank you," she whispers to him. "Contact me in an hour."
Solange reaches over and touches Kyril's cheek, then holds up Vere's trump sketch and concentrates on it.
/Vere, it's Solange./ she says mentally.
"Sister," he answers aloud. He is seated at a table in a tent, a jug and a goblet in front of him, casually shuffling a deck of cards.
/I need to bring Cambina to you. Can you pull me through?/ A sense of urgency leaks through Solange's contact.
"Certainly," Vere replies. He stands and steps away from the table, then holds out a hand to her.
Solange takes Vere's hand and pulls Cambina after her. She disappears from Xanadu in a flash of prismatic light and appears in front of her foster brother with Cambina shrouded and in tow on a wheeled litter.
She envelops Vere in a tight hug which she holds a bit longer than normal, then releases him and steps back. "Thank you for doing this," she says. "I believe strongly this is a valid path of investigation, especially since Vialle is still missing and the information Cambina can give may be timely."
Vere returns the hug, then raises an eyebrow at her words. "Your words imply that there might be a reason for supposing this is not a valid path," he notes calmly. "And bringing Cambina here was not our original plan." He does not ask a question, but he is looking at her expectantly.
"I know." Solange passes a hand over her face, the line of her shoulders tense. "Father and Uncle Corwin do not approve--that is part of why I brought Cambina here instead. The other part is on the recommendation of Hannah, who was concerned that raising Cambina in Xanadu where there's a working Pattern would bind her there permanently.
"Vere...if you do this you'll be going against Father's wishes. I'll understand if you decide not to continue. But I still think this is a valid path."
Vere is silent for a moment, then says quietly, "Would you mind if I contact Father? I would like to speak with him before I make a decision."
Solange exhales forcefully. "You know he doesn't know I'm here. He'll yell when he finds out. And then he'll give you that disappointed look if you decide to do it anyway despite his wishes--you know the look I'm talking about."
Vere smiles slightly. "Indeed," he murmurs.
She gestures expansively. "But do what you feel you have to do--I'll wait. Please don't drag me into the conversation, though. I do not want to talk to Father right now."
Vere nods at her words, and walks away from her and Cambina's body, then turns to face them, with his back to the walls of the tent.
"Is there anything else I should know before I call him?" he asks as he reaches into his pouch for Gerard's trump.
"Not that I can think of," Solange replies fretfully, resigning herself to the situation.
"Very well, then," Vere answers. And he looks at the card in his hand, reaching out mentally for his father.
There is no answer on Gerard's end.
Vere stares at the card for a while, then raises his gaze to Solange. "He does not answer," he tells her. "We must make this decision on our own. Tell me, what occured between you and Father?"
Solange spreads her hands. "King Random named him regent while he left to look for the queen. As regent, I thought he should be present when you attempted to raise Cambina, so I asked him to come down to the infirmary and witness it. He was adamantly against the whole idea. When I asked why, he said stuff about not bringing the customs of the Isles to Xanadu, and stuff about no good coming from it and not being able to trust the word of a ghost."
She gestures expansively while she talks.
"So we argued, I said a few things I regret now, and we parted ways angry. I decided to go ahead and contact you to do this, for as I said, I still believe this to be a valid path of investigation, especially since the queen is still missing.
"I don't understand why everyone is so against this idea. Sure, there may be some risk, but I think it's worth the risk, don't you?"
Vere frowns. "Everone?" he asks. "You mentioned Hannah. Who else is against the idea?"
"Hannah mostly, Father yes, Corwin yes. No one else has had the opportunity to weigh in." Solange rubs the bridge of her nose.
Vere nods. "Now," he says, "Could you tell me in greater detail than 'he said stuff' what each of the three said? I would like to analyze for myself whether they have legitimate concerns."
Solange frowns and runs a hand through her hair. "Corwin didn't say anything, actually. When Father told him that we wanted to raise Cambina, he folded his arms and gave me a look. That was it. Father interpreted this as Corwin forbidding us to raise her. I argued against this--because he didn't say anything, he didn't tell us not to do this!--and Father accused me of twisting the situation to get my way. 'Smooth talk of a redhead' were his words."
She looks skyward and exhales. It's a moment before she continues speaking.
"Father said the customs of the Isles belong in the Isles, not in Xanadu. He doesn't hold with bringing them there and he said neither do others in the family. He didn't list names."
Tension has crept back into her shoulders as she talks about Gerard. She starts pacing.
"He didn't like that I wanted to do this without consulting Jerod, and he didn't want Cambina's body removed from Xanadu. He accused me of looking for loopholes when I should instead be pulling together with the rest of the family. I interpreted this as 'be a good girl and do what your elders say and I'm not interested in your opinions.'"
Solange's mouth works momentarily as she struggles to bring her emotions back down to a reasonable level. She take a few deep breaths, avoiding Vere's gaze, and continues.
"Hannah seemed mostly concerned that we were planning to raise Cambina in Xanadu where there's a functioning Pattern and hence a binding power. She thought it might not let her go. Which, as I told you earlier, is part of why I brought her to you.
"Vere, yes, there are some rebellious overtones with what I'm doing here. However, the bigger picture is that Vialle is missing and Cambina is dead and there's a good chance Cambina's ghost can tell us what happened.
"Corwin and Hannah are planning to go to Tir tonight to investigate. Corwin went on about the Moonriders and he thinks they might be returning. What if they had something to do with Cambina's death? Corwin and Hannah could be walking into an ambush. If we know what happened to Cambina, then we can relay that information to them before they go, so they're prepared.
"This isn't Ysabeau--this is Cambina. We all served together and picked up the pieces after the Sundering. She's our cousin. What do we have to fear from her?"
"Jerod," Vere says thoughtfully. "That is an excellent point. Jerod does have the right to have a say in this." He looks at Cambina's body, then back at his sister. "Jerod is wary of trumps, I know. Was one ever made for the so called 'trump booth'?"
"Yes. I contacted Jerod by trump to tell him Cambina was dead. However, it's in the trump booth in Xanadu and I don't have a convenient way of getting back there unless I contact Father, which you just tried.
"Kyril has my trump sketch and will contact me after an hour passes in Xanadu. I imagine by then Cambina's disappearance will be noted and the chances of me contacting Jerod for his approval and then getting back to you to be about nil. I think we're going to have to make this decision on our own.
"I will take full responsibility for this, Vere. I'm already going to have Father and Corwin and possibly even the king ready to rip me a new one, so what's one more person compared to them?" she says fatalistically.
Vere waves a hand dismissively. "I will or will not be the one to do this thing," he says. "The responsibility is mine, not yours." He is silent a moment, then adds, "While I consider this matter, a side note. Why is King Corwin in Xanadu rather than Paris?"
Solange bristles. "And it was my idea and I brought her to you. You're right, I can't claim full responsibility, but I certainly share it. Don't dismiss me like Father does.
"Corwin is involved because King Random asked him to be."
Vere smiles. "You are determined to be angry, are you not? Very well, I have decided. We shall do this thing."
"It's been a very long day so far, Vere, and it's not even noon."
Solange steps over to Cambina's body and waits, keeping her current thoughts to herself.
Vere pulls a stool from the table and sets it near Cambina. He takes the cards from his pouch and begins idly shuffling them. "Normally," he says, "I would engage in a ritual of some kind. Sing a song composed especially for the person in question. Call upon what they hold dear and sacred. Remind them of our connection, and explain the reason for our need to speak with them."
He looks into the distance as he speaks, looking neither at the cards in his hand nor at Cambina or Solange. "Cambina, however," he says, "Was a woman of pragmatic nature. She is much like her brother in that. Despite her own gift, she had little patience with mystic ritual, nor with the trappings of the occult. She prefers things straightforward. How did you come to die, cousin?"
The effort is immense, and just when Vere thinks he is about to fail, he succeeds. He senses the spirit of his cousin. Vere feels her drawing on his energy to gain the power to speak. Disturbingly, he is not sure if he could cut that source of energy off from the spirit.
"Die, die, die, die die? I have seen myself self self self self die die die a million deaths deaths deaths. Where am I?"
The words are faint as a wheeze and labored, but it seems to Vere as if her lips moved.
Vere raises an eyebrow and pauses a moment before answering. "You are in Shadow, Cambina. Far from Amber or Xanadu. Do you remember what happened?"
"I cannot see or hear her," Solange says to Vere, frustrated. "Can you please relay what she's saying?"
The voice is no louder. "My memory is not here. Take me there."
Vere frowns. "It was difficult to reach her," he tells Solange. "Her voice is weak. But she is drawing strength from me to achieve contact. She said previously that she has seen herself die a million deaths, and she asks where she is. Now she says that her memory is not here, and she asks to be taken to where it is. Presumably either Xanadu or Tir Na Nog'th. I am not certain either is a good idea. I am also uncertain if I can banish her now, if she chooses not to be banished."
Solange frowns as well and shifts her weight.
"Would you ask her where her memory is?
"I still have your trump and I think contacting you will work for bringing me into the loop so I can help you break the connection, if need be."
Vere nods and asks, "Where is your memory?"
"In a fog on a clear night, I climbed to where it is..."
The effort on her part seems intense.
Vere nods. "Tir Na Nog'th," he says to Solange. "She wants to be taken back there. That is definitely something that must not happen without consultation with the King, and with Jerod." He frowns then. "She says she climbed in a fog on a clear night. I do not know what she means by that."
Solange shrugs. "Maybe 'fog' refers to what was going on inside her head. Maybe the stairs and Tir were foggy. I don't know."
She slams her hand down in frustration on Vere's table.
"Would you ask her about Vialle? Maybe she can tell us _something_."
"Cambina," Vere says. He reaches out and touches her shoulder with the tips of his fingers. "What happened to Vialle?"
This time Solange hears the voice from her late cousin, faintly. "She died."
The spirit slips away, leaving Vere exhausted.
Solange inhales sharply. "But...how? Who?" She looks at Vere, wide-eyed.
Vere slumps back slightly on his stool, and raises a hand to his forehead. "She is gone," he tells Solange. He reaches for his mug and takes a deep swallow of ale, then looks at her. "You heard that?" he asks. "Interesting. It would seem to be the answer to my question regarding Vialle. However, I would caution that I am not certain how firmly rooted to our current time Cambina's spirit may have been, and I would not regard it as a definite statement of fact."
Solange swings around and looks for another stool. If she doesn't see one, she instead kneels in front of Vere. Her eyes cast back and forth as thoughts and questions run through her head, but she settles on the most important one to her right now.
"Are you all right?" she asks her foster-brother.
"Only tired," Vere assures her. "Raising Cambina took more energy than most." A slight smile flickers across his face, "I could spend the next watch boring you with theories on the possible reasons for that, but I suspect we have other, more important things to discuss before it is time for you to return."
Solange nods. She's silent for a brief space, then says, "All of this effort and nothing to show for it that we didn't already know or suspect. And it looks like it ends here--the King will not give permission to take Cambina to Tir and you cannot leave shadow to come call her up there."
Vere closes his eyes and leans back on the stool. He is silent for a few moments, then says, "I fear you are correct. But it could have gone far worse."
"How so? I thought your ghostly encounters have always been benign?"
Vere smiles without opening his eyes. "Each case is different," he answers. "And when it is Family, the unknowns outweigh the knowns. She might have been strong enough to animate her body, and without her memories she would not have been the Cambina we knew. Or the Goddess herself might have decided a body was useful, and possessed it. Imagine trying to explain that to Jerod? The possibilities are endless, but there is no point in rehearsing might have beens." He opens his eyes, then yawns. "Your pardon, my sister. It has been a tiring few weeks."
Solange stands. "Kyril should trump me soon and then I'll be out of your way. How is this exodus going for you? Father...um...seems to be enjoying your mother's company."
"How is Mother?" Vere leans forward. "I have hopes that getting her away from the Isles, near Father, will be enough to stop her decline. And then, with her force of will added to yours, the two of you can convince Father to take a more active role in seeking healing." His face goes still. "And if not..." he pauses, then continues, "If leaving the Isles is not enough, then it is best her last days are spent with him."
Solange's gaze drops to Vere's table and she repositions his cup. "I haven't really had time to talk to her, but she seems fine," she says, forcing a smile.
She casts about the tent, looking for another topic of conversation, and her eyes fall on Cambina's shrouded body. "What do you want to do about the funeral? Will you attend?"
"Do not let her worship you," Vere says. "I count on you to be the one with the solid grounding to teach her that we are not truly gods."
Solange snorts. "I'll choose to view what you just said in a positive light."
Vere smiles slightly at that.
He shakes his head. "No, I do not dare leave my people while they are still in Shadow, and once we reach Paris things will quickly become busy. Take my condolences to the funeral, and explain to everyone why I cannot be there, if you would."
She nods and lapses into a preoccupied silence.
When Kyril still fails to contact her in the next few minutes, Solange drums her fingers on the table impatiently. "I didn't think the time difference was all that great," she mumbles.
"You took much longer to contact me again than I had expected," Vere answers. "I had assumed that was due to a time differential. However, you say you were held up by discussions with Father and Corwin?"
She nods.
"If that took a while, then I would estimate the time difference is not very large. How long did you ask Kyril to wait?" He tilts his head to one side. "Kyril?" he asks. "I do not believe I have met him. You trust him to aid you in subterfuge against Father, so I assume he is someonw whom you have know for a while?"
"I asked him to trump me in an hour. Um...yeah, I've known him for awhile. We met back at university, before the Sundering. I came back to Amber and I thought I'd never see him again, but then he just appeared in Xanadu one day and decided to stay. I trust him with my life. Well, have trusted him with my life--he's a doctor, like Father."
She pauses. "I assume Father has discovered Cambina's disappearance by now. He'll know I was responsible and go looking for Kyril. Could be that he's not allowing Kyril to contact me so I'm forced to instead go through him."
Her expression sobers at the thought.
"Possible," Vere allows with a nod. "A bit subtle for Father. I would expect him to simply take the card from Kyril and contact you immediately himself. But it is possible. Would you like me to contact Father? I think I can determine whether that is the case, without asking directly, if you would prefer. If it is not the case, then there may be a more serious problem. If Father has not prevented him from contacting you, then someone or something else may have done so."
Solange nods again. "Without asking directly, please. Thank you." She frowns and her fingers fall to drumming again, this time more anxiously than impatiently.
Vere stands and moves away from Cambina, "I will not lie directly to him, of course. If he asks me point blank if you are here shall I answer him, or attempt to divert him?"
"I don't like lying either, so I agree with you on that. Go ahead and answer him if he asks point blank--diverting will just make him more angry in the end. And if he asks point blank, could you try to calm him down? He hasn't been listening to me lately." She looks away.
"I make a point of standing just out of lunging range when I annoy him," Vere replies with a bland expression.
He takes his father's card out and looks down into it.
Solange takes out her trump deck--adding Vere's trump sketch to the deck--and shuffles the cards. She concentrates on the question "Is Vialle alive right now?" and draws a card.
The card she draws is Deirdre, reversed.
"That doesn't bode well," she mutters, staring at the card.
"Father," [Vere] says.
Gerard's face takes a moment to coalesce. "Aye. Who is it?"
"It is Vere, Father." Vere tilts his head to one side, gauging his expression.
Gerard looks harried and a bit disturbed, and that sense is furthered by the feel of the trump contact. "What d'ye need? I've got trouble here that needs dealing with."
"Trouble?" Vere tilts his head to one side. "What is happening, Father?" he asks.
Solange looks over at Vere's question of "trouble" to Gerard, suddenly intent on his trump conversation.
"Cambina's body's gone missing and her lout of a lad is in the dungeon because he won't tell me where he sent her, or where Solange went." Vere can feel the suspicion rising in Gerard as his father's gaze fixes on him through the trump connection. "I don't suppose you'd know ought about that."
"Considering how much like you Solange is," Vere answers calmly, "Surely you cannot believe that any man she would choose could be convinced to reveal anything she had asked him to keep to himself. You had him thrown into the dungeon in a fit of pique, I suspect, not because you think it will change his mind."
Solange passes a hand over her face. Careful to keep herself out of sight of the trump, she walks over to Vere. She extends her hand and raises her eyebrows, mutely asking permission to join the contact.
Without changing expression or taking his eyes from his father Vere raises the hand not holding his father's card to Solange.
"Nae," Gerard says to Vere. "Because he crossed the command of the Regent, and any man who does that must take the punishment. Or any woman."
"'Crossed the command'"? Vere repeats. "Does this mean direct disobedience, or merely doing something the Regent had advised against? The two would seem different."
Solange takes Vere's hand, touches Gerard's trump as well, and joins the contact. "Father."
Gerard barely acknowledges Solange; he's building up a head of steam in Vere's direction for the moment. "Dinna argue wi' me like one o' Dad's lawyers, Vere. When the Regent says nae, it is not optional nor advised against. By what right did Solange thieve away Cambina's body in the night? If that had been your sister's body, what would you do to Jerod for so stealing it?"
The sister referred to mentally flinches at the onslaught and keeps her mouth shut for the moment.
"I do not expect Jerod and I would react in exactly the same manner, Father," Vere replies calmly. "But in answer to your question, I would inquire as to why he had done so. Jerod is a wise man, and he does not do things without reason. I would certainly want to be informed as to those reasons, but I would assume that he had them." He nods thoughtfully. "Now, as to whether I would agree or not with those reasons once I knew them, that is a question. But surely your sole objection to this was not that Jerod and I would argue over whether or not my reasons are valid?"
"What I would have done then doesna matter now." Gerard "The Regent carries the King's authority. Did ye take oath or no?"
Vere raises an eyebrow. "Is my loyalty in question, Father? I should think by now you would have no doubts about the seriousness with which I regard each and every oath I have taken."
"Nae." Gerard says flatly. "It's not your oath that's truly in doubt. Once ye hae given oath, I know ye follow through, which is why I canna understand yer lawyerin' here. I told yer sister nay and she went behind my back knowin' full well my intention. Now I must stand before the King and tell him she defied the will o' the Regent, after taking that oath, and the matter of a spoilt child throwing a tantrum because she didna get her way becomes a matter o' treason! How many o' yer Stag brothers lie dead because the Spider knew better than yer ma? And on top o' that I must answer to Jerod for the outrage to his sister's corpse, for it happened on me watch."
Vere begins to answer, then remains silent as his father steamrolls onward.
His attention focuses on Solange. "And what have ye to say for yourself? Or are you a child again to hide behind yer brother's cloak?"
Vere tilts his head slightly towards Solange, waiting to see if she wishes to respond or would prefer him to do so.
It's clear that she prefers to do so. Fire sparks in Solange's countenance.
"Is that how you view me? A spoiled child who's oath is in question? I gave everything when I served on the Regency Council after the Sundering. I gave everything because you couldn't. I am at cross-purposes with you today because I am loyal to the Crown and I believe your decision to not explore every venue of possible information when time is of the essence is not only putting Vialle's life in jeopardy, but also risking Hannah and Corwin's when they visit Tir.
"I explained this to you and you did not listen. When I stand before the King and explain my actions, I will tell him that I did what I felt in my gut was the best course of action for the realm. If you truly believe that my sole reason for doing this was simply to get my way, then you really do not know me at all. Father."
Vere's expression is calm and emotionless, and he makes no effort to speak after Solange's answer to their father.
Which is wise, because for a moment it seems likely that Gerard will reach through the contact and pull Solange through. His face is dark with anger, and he takes a moment to right himself. "I know ye well enow. Ye sound like yer ma, and not to yer credit."
"And nothing changes," she whispers.
He turns his attention back to Vere. "As Regent to King Random, I command ye, Vere: return the body of your kinswoman Cambina, or fall under the punishment about to be meted to Solange."
Solange flushes. She presses her lips together into a thin line and looks down at the ground.
Vere moves the card in his hand so that Cambina's cloth draped body is clearly visible behind him. "She is here, Sir, ready to be returned at your command."
His sister drops from the contact. She walks over to Cambina's body, slaps her hand down angrily on the handle of the litter, and decidedly pulls it over to Vere, ready to be passed through.
Gerard reaches out for the litter and Solange comes into the contact again as they pass the body through. Gerard sets it down on an examining table behind him. Then Solange moves to take Gerard's hand, but he withdraws it.
Instead, he speaks to his son. "Vere, since ye hae cooperated when reminded o'yer oath, and since ye seem to be under some misunderstandin' o' what hae happened, I may forgo any punishment for ye mysel', though when the King hears of it, ye may be called to answer to him for yer oath.
"Sir," Vere answers, with a nod of his head.
Then Gerard turns his attention to his daughter: "Solange, ye hae willfully and knowingly defied the Regent's command, showin' no remorse, in a time o' crisis and perhaps war. For this, I, Gerard, Regent o' Xanadu, do hereby banish ye from this realm until such time as it is the King's pleasure for ye to return. And if ye do return without the King's leave, ye shall be imprisoned until it do please the King to release you."
Solange makes an effort to reign in her raging emotions, her shoulders and hands shaking with the effort. Her color is still high. "And Kyril?" she asks huskily, raising her head to look at her father's face. "I know I have no right to ask... But will you have mercy and send him to me? I...need him, Father. Please."
Gerard's face remains impassive. "Kyril awaits the King's pleasure in Xanadu." There is no appeal from his tone. His attention falls once more on Vere. "Unless ye hae more for me at this time, I needs must return to me duties."
Solange removes herself from the contact without another word.
Hands still shaking, she turns to Vere's table and spreads out her trumps.
"My regards and respect to Mother," Vere replies. He nods his head to his father, then breaks the contact.
He turns to face Solange as he puts Gerard's trump away. He regards her silently, with one eyebrow slightly raised.
"Dàirich," she mutters. "Dàirich, dàirich, dàirich." She finds what she's looking for -- Vere's trump sketch -- and holds it out to him.
"Indeed," Vere murmurs as he takes the sketch. He looks at it, then back up at Solange, tilting his head. He waits for her to speak.
"I don't know what you want me to say. I took a risk. It didn't pay off. End of story." She roughly gathers her trumps back up. Usually Gerard is placed on top, but this time she doesn't attend to the order they're in. "I'm leaving. You have some responsibilities you need to attend to and I have some self-destructive behavior I need to engage in. Give my regards to Rebma."
She pockets the trumps and turns to leave.
"Do what you must, sister, but there is a possibility that the answer to all this awaits in Rebma. Are you ready to give up, or would you prefer to press ahead with our investigations?" Vere slips the sketch into the same internal pocket as Gerard's trump. "Results count with our family more than method. Find the Queen, or learn what became of her, and Uncle Random will not care that Father is annoyed with you."
Solange pauses and speaks over her shoulder. "Why do you think the answer to this lies in Rebma?"
"It is one possibility of several," Vere answers. "If Cambina's death was the result of an attack, not a mere accident, which seems likely, and the true target was the Queen, not Cambina, then the source of that attack may lie in the Queen's past. And that means Rebma. King Corwin told me that Llewella's daughter is contesting with Moire for the throne, and I believe Huon is marching on the city as well. In such fraught circumstances, does it not seem likely that someone might seek to gain an advantage by kidnapping the Queen of Amber and Xanadu? Or by slaying her and laying the blame upon another?"
Solange turns around fully as Vere speaks.
"If kidnapped, then why has the responsible party not communicated terms?" she muses. "If the purpose was to slay her and blame another, then why do we not have a body and misleading clues? There weren't even any such clues on Cambina." She pauses. "On the other hand, just keeping the queen hidden without any leads has kept the king out of Xanadu on a search for her.
"Maybe Rebma is a distraction. Someone with a grudge against Amber knew Huon was approaching it--I can't imagine an approaching army would be subtle--and is using the timing to their advantage. We have our eyes focused on Rebma, the king is out searching for the queen, and that leaves Xanadu more-or-less undefended. Now that Corwin and Hannah have left, there's no Family there aside from Father."
"The King's distraction is most definitely a point to consider," Vere agrees. "Julian is distracted by the dragon and the affairs of Arden. Corwin by Paris, and the proximity of Paris to Rebma means the Rebman situation distracts him as well. So many of the Family drawn away from the center at this dangerous time. It almost seems that it would require a spy in our midst to have arranged all these matters, if arranged they were." He tilts his head to one side and taps a finger on the table. "As well, I am minded of what may be an unrelated matter. There were indications in my research that the Paresh were the inheritors of an ancient order of almost human priests, who had a relationship of some kind with Princess Pastoral, the mother of Reid. I casually mentioned the description of these near humans to Reid, who claimed not to know of them. That seems unlikely, given his mother's involvement with them."
He pauses for a moment, regarding Solange, then continues. "Reid. The cousin most like an uncle. Has he been seen of recent?"
"Not that I know of." She narrows her eyes. "May be an unrelated matter? So how do you think Reid and the Paresh are connected to this?"
Vere shakes his head. "It could be unrelated," he says. "I am merely assembling facts in a variety of possible patterns. I am suspicious of Cousin Reid, and I still believe the mysteries of the Paresh are of more import that they have been given. We still have insufficient facts. I hope to assemble more, and I trust eventually I will begin to see how they all fit together. I hope that understanding will not come too late."
"Speaking of coming too late, if Rebma is a distraction then the time to strike is now, for in a day or two most of the Family will be back in Xanadu for Cambina's funeral," Solange says. "Corwin has been making noises about Moonriders and Tir will be up for the last time tonight. Do you know anything about them?"
"Almost nothing," Vere answers. "When I did ask, I was told that I should speak with Benedict about them, as he was the expert. I never had opportunity to do so. It is perhaps telling that riders who match their description appeared in the visions of Germaine of the Paresh, is it not?"
Solange raises her eyebrows. "I wasn't aware of the descriptions. Interesting. And somewhat alarming. But weren't Germaine's visions about Amber?"
Vere smiles and pours some ale into his mug. He gestures to an empty cup on the table, "Care for some?" he asks.
"Sure, why the hell not? Not like I have anywhere else to be." She sits down at the table and slouches in the chair.
Vere fills the cup.
"Germaine described his visions of the end of the world as involving Amber. But from my meetings with the man, I would not be surprised if his interpretations of his visions tended to differ from what he actually saw. Certainly, his interpretations of mere conversation were oddly skewed to fit his own preconceptions."
Solange makes a conceding gesture as she rolls her eyes, remembering her own past conversations with Germaine. "So what do we do about our wild speculations?" she asks. "Tell someone?"
"With no more than what we have surmised so far?" Vere shakes his head. "As you say, 'wild speculations.'"
Solange takes a gulp of the ale, decides she likes it, and finishes off the mug as Vere talks.
"Remember how few wished to pay any heed to my suspicions of the Paresh during the Regency? This will be more of the same. No, there is nothing to do other than keep an eye out for supporting data. I am leading the People of the Isles to Paris, and from there to Rebma. Perhaps I will learn something more."
"You're leading them into a war. Why?"
"I am leading the to a new home. I want them near a Pattern, so that they will become more important, and never face the unravelling of their world again due to petty squabbles among the Family. Of the possibilities, I believe that the social structure they will find in Rebma will be less of a shock than those of Xanadu or Paris, and I have a responsibility to return the warriors of Rebma in any case. As for war, my people are warriors. Giving them all a common cause will help in resolving their recent animosities."
He cocks his head and regards her. "What of you, my sister? You are welcome to join us. I could definitely use your aid in this undertaking, I do not have your skill in travelling through shadow. And you can work out your ill humor by doing your best to force stubborn priestesses to cease treating you as a goddess."
Solange fiddles with her empty mug, scowling. It's a moment before she answers.
"It's good to have purpose--keeps me from going out and binge drinking for a week or so, something Kyril would not approve of. I'll come, though I don't understand about the whole goddess thing. Are you trying to phase it out?"
Vere is silent for a moment, considering this. "I do not believe so," he answers. "Although I do not know myself what I think of it. I have spoken with the Goddess on this matter, and She is travelling with Her people, although She Herself says She does not know what She will become when we arrive. My people are used to having a Goddess, and I would prefer they retain the one they have rather than seeking a new one when they arrive, and being subverted by a lord of Chaos or a member of our family."
Vere can tell by the expression on her face that Solange still doesn't know what to make of this whole Goddess thing.
"Do you have an idea how far from Paris and Rebma you are?" she asks, changing the subject.
Vere fills her mug once more. "Closer than we were," he answers. "I have been seeking speed over safety in our trip. However, I am leading an entire world's worth of people, including the elderly and the sick. They are all under strict orders to remain in groups, and those groups to never be out of sight of other groups. So far no one has been lost that I regret losing."
Solange nods pensively.
He takes a sip from his own mug, then continues, "That there has been no sign that Huon's army has passed this way I take as evidence that he was on a direct route for Rebma, and our side trip to Paris will prevent us from running into a rear guard or stragglers of his forces. Once we reach Paris I trust King Corwin can give us current information on the situation in Rebma."
"How long before you resume your journey?"
"First thing in the morning," he answers her. "Or as soon as everyone can be roused. We are camped merely for the night. I can have a tent raised for you, or you may sleep here for the night, and avoid the confusion to the camp that your presence would cause." He gestures to one of the internal walls of the tent. "I have spare blankets. Not luxurious, but comfortable enough."
Solange finishes the second mug of ale as easily as the first. "It was only late morning for me when I came to you. And then after all that's happened..." She shakes her head. "Vere, I can't possibly sleep right now.
"I can do some reconnaissance instead. I can scout ahead through shadow a bit, make sure we indeed are not going to happen upon army types, and smooth the way, as it were."
"An excellent idea," Vere says approvingly. He produces the trump of himself she had just given. "I think perhaps you should retain this, in case you come across something you think I should know of immediately."
She smiles wryly and takes the trump back. "I'll be back in a watch or so."
"And I shall get some sleep," Vere declares. "Wake me when you return." He stands, and set his mug down on the table. "Random is a reasonable man, Solange," he tells her. "Once he returns to Xanadu we can appeal to him for Kyril's release, and a consideration of your banishment." He smiles. "If you even feel like considering the latter as of yet. Taking Kyril on a grand tour of the glories to be found in Shadow may be just the thing."
Solange pushes back her chair and comes to her feet. "The grand tour idea has merit," she says. "We'd been considering something along those lines even before Cambina died and that whole situation escalated."
She pauses as emotions sweep over her again--Kyril and Father and Cambina--but she pushes them away rather than examining them. Now is not the time. "Vere, thank you for...well...for everything. You've been a good big brother." She plants a very sisterly kiss on his cheek and turns to leave. "Sleep well."
Solange slips out of the tent and into the night.
"Fare well, sister," Vere says quietly to the empty tent. He stands quietly for a while, then walks to the table and blows out the oil lantern.
Last modified: 11 April 2009