With Tomat and Red Fox Claws in tow, Signy makes her way to Caine's office, and knocks on the door.
"Enter" says a voice from the far side. The door opens, pulled by a young sailor. The office has been meticulously cleaned of water, although several of the pieces of furniture are clearly new.
"Yes?" says Caine, sharply.
Signy shoots a warning glance at Brother Tomat and Red Fox Claws, and hopes that they take the hint and stay on good behavior, before striding through the open door. "I'd like to talk to you about taking Brother Tomat and Red Fox Claws with me when I leave in the morning."
Caine looks up. "Good. Leave sooner if you can." He doesn't seem angry, but it's clear he's not giving Signy his full attention.
Signy nods sharply. "I'm sorry I missed dinner. Did Garrett or Brita fill you in on the Queen?"
Caine nods, briefly. "Yes. I have spoken with the King as well. I know what I need to know, here. I am closing the castle, temporarily. The sooner you leave, the better."
Signy's eyes focus in on Caine with a glittering emerald intensity. "So there is something to what happened in that place after all?"
Caine looks nonplussed. "I've no idea. I'm more worried about what's happening in this place, and I cannot do my job here surrounded by inquisitive nieces and their coteries of hangers-on. When will you be leaving?"
"In the morning." She keeps her gaze focused on Caine. "Is someone going to attack here? It seems like you would want all the strength you could muster to help fight off whatever is coming this way."
"Who would attack here? If anyone did, we'd pour in people via trump. But were someone to do so, I would want to be prepared, and I need fewer non-essential personnel in order to get prepared." He smiles his most insincere smile. "Let me know if there is anything I can do to accelerate your departure."
One of Signy's eyebrows quirks up, and she looks unconvinced. "Then why do you need to close the castle?"
Caine smiles, smoothly, almost avuncularly. He holds up his index finger. "Until you can tell me the answer to that question, you're banned from the castle, Niece, by order of the Regent in the name of the King. You may leave via trump or by the gate. Now. Take your men."
Signy smiles back at Caine, her eyes flat and no other expression on her face.
"As you wish. Is there a Trump for Xanadu that I can use?"
"If there is, I am unaware of it. Both the King and Prince Gerard are in residence. Do you have their trumps?" He reaches for a pouch at his side.
Signy shakes her head. "I have one of the King. If you have nothing further I won't disturb you further."
Caine waves his hand at the door and returns to his papers.
Signy strides out of Caine's office, not looking back as she leaves Red Fox Claws and Tomat to follow (or not) as best they can. After a couple of turns, she pauses at a window, looking out at it with an irate expression while the two catch up to her.
"Well, we're leaving pretty much right now. I want to go and see what's happened with my father's Tower, but before this I need to go back to where the King is to attend a funeral, which will most likely keep us there a few days. Unfortunately you're going to have to come along with me, as my Uncle has decided that we need to leave. Now."
She turns to look at them with a level gaze, though her eyes still glitter with anger. "Any objections or comments before I ask the King to bring us through?"
"No, Lady. If I'm allowed to go, that's both a blessing and a surprise," says Tomat.
"I'll be glad to see the back of this rockpile. It doesn't smell right," adds Red Fox Claws.
Signy nods, her body relaxing slightly. Squaring her shoulders, she pulls the King's Trump from her pouch and tries to concentrate on it the way that Marius and Brennan said to. "Hope this works better then last time," she mutters.
Random's features on the cardboard are clear and sharp and as Signy concentrates, as she mentally defines him as 'here', he becomes so. He's sitting in front of a fire, alone at a large wooden table. He looks up and begins to speak, in her head.
"So, once you make contact, you don't need to concentrate so hard, unless you're fighting with the other person, which you would be really bad at. Just conversational attention and an 'Uncle, I am blessed amongst all beings in being granted the privilege of speaking to you' would be sufficient."
A smile briefly flits across her face, as her forehead uncreases. "Sorry. This is my first time using these things. Can you bring myself and two of my men through? Uncle Caine has decided that we need to leave here. Now."
Random smiles and almost manages not to roll his eyes. "Sure, sure. Yourself and your men are welcome in Xanadu. Hand them through." He pauses. "That works like it sounds."
Signy reaches out to Red Fox Claws and hands him through to Random hesitantly, and a little more surely with Tomat, before calmly grasping Random's hand and coming through herself.
Random smiles as he brings each of them through the contact. Signy sees Brother Tomat clutching a wall closely, looking distractedly beyond the king. A quick glance reveals that the four of them are on a high, narrow balcony or ledge overlooking the side of the castle nearest to the waterfall.
"It's a good thing you didn't want me to bring through a horse," says Random.
Signy gives Random a flat look. "It's a good thing you don't want me to bring through a horse. Caine has thrown me out of Amber for the time being, so I don't think I could go back and get one."
She slips the Trump back into her belt and tugs at the hem of her shirt to straighten it imperceptibly. "I figured with the funeral coming up, it would be easiest to stay here until that's done, and then leave after I've had a chance to talk with Brennan about what happened at my father's Tower."
"Pfft. Caine is regent. If I said 'Signy, fetch me a horse from Amber,' you could return in a moment. Why, do you really want to fetch me a horse? I think your plan of staying here is much better."
He turns to Tomat. "Don't worry, I won't make it rain up here." Tomat does not seem reassured.
Random turns to Red Fox Claws, who doesn't seem to be frightened. "Help him inside. The door is six feet behind him."
Signy nods at Red Fox Claws. "I'll be in in a moment to join you." Not waiting for him to collect Brother Tomat, she turns back to the King. "How is the Queen doing?"
"Better, but that's a low hurdle considering how much unbetter she was."
He sighs, and it sounds like the waterfall. "I'm hoping to avoid having your father make a sword for my kingdom."
Signy looks slighly confused at this. "Surely you have smiths that can make a sword for you here. That was one of the first things he taught me. He also taught me some tricks to make the blades better then normal smiths could make," she notes, touching the hilt of her sword.
She looks at Random appraisingly, sweeping her eyes up and down his frame as she sizes him up. "I could probably make something suitable myself, though I might need to leave here for a couple of days so I can use my Sorcery."
"That would be fascinating, except that assuming you could, I don't want the debt of the binding. We'll take that up with Corwin, he might be more amenable. Hang on a second..."
Random turns and stares at the castle's slate roof. "Xanadu six-five thousand, who may I say is calling?"
Signy draws in a breath to reply, but as the King starts his Trump contact simply exhales and waits for him to finish.
"I remember being on that list. Good times," he smiles, briefly. "On principle, and for the protection of the rights of Princes and sons of Princes, I reserve the right to judge him myself. Rebma may ask me for his head, but they may not take it without my permission."
Tomat and Red Fox Claws are inside the small room, talking quietly. Over the waterfall, it's hard to hear anyone that's not immediately with you. This may be why the King chose to be here.
Signy catches the eyes of Red Fox Claws and Tomat, and shrugs her shoulders slightly, nodding in Random's direction.
Red Fox Claws makes a few simple gestures, which, from horseback, would mean something like "where are the enemies that I can't see?"
The King continues talking to the waterfall.
If Signy wants to, she could get close enough to hear more clearly, or she could stay where she is, or go inside.
Signy's hands make some quick gestures back, noting that she's not entirely sure herself.
Signy glances at the King, and decides to hold where she's at for a moment longer.
A few more words, something about ghosts and death curses and writing a pattern, and he's done. Random turns to Signy.
"Let's go inside. It's going to rain." There aren't any clouds in sight, but it's hard to judge the weather patterns of edge places like this.
Signy glances dubiously at the sky but falls into step beside Random. "What did you mean about a price?"
There are few clouds in the sky, and they don't look like rainclouds. Nevertheless, a fat raindrop hits Signy on the nose.
Random ducks through the door easily. "For a sword, you mean? I said a debt. I don't think it can be as simply balanced as paying a price."
"What would require a debt for the making of a sword," she asks slowly. "Admittedly you wouldn't want just any blade for the King, but even one that's been worked on magically as well as at the forge doesn't seem to be that large of an undertaking."
"No?" asks Random. "Well, then perhaps. You'll have to tell me if you can match the blades that Corwin, Bleys, and Llewella's daughter have. Have you seen any of them?" He heads down the stairs, clearly expecting her to follow.
Signy follows after, motioning for Tomat and Red Fox Claws to follow but not waiting for them as she keeps pace with the King. "I've not met any of them -- would any of them let me take a look at their blades?"
"I suspect all of them would. Bleys is around, but not more often than not. His daughter Paige lives here, more or less. Corwin and Khela are at their castles, so you'd best look for them there, if you're looking.
"I'd say trump someone in Paris, but given that they're busy now, you might find it easier to ride through shadow. Paige might be your best source of information, though. She should be here within a week."
He pauses momentarily for Signy to catch up. "Actually, everyone should be. We'll be burying Cambina. That or Lucas' funeral which should also be soon. Or the wedding. We only ever get together as a family for weddings and funerals."
Signy nods, filing away the information for later use. "How long until the funeral...s?"
"Soon. First Caine has to sort out Amber, and also we need to know what Flora is doing. If I'm lucky, they'll both be buried elsewhere. Cambina belongs in Amber and Lucas in Paris."
Still standing at Daeon's memorial, Brennan uses the last fading light of the embers to see Fiona's Trump well enough to call her. Assuming she answers:
"Fi? It's Brennan. Can you bring me in? It's been a long day, and I still need to brief the King on everything that happened."
He looks exhausted, still smelling of woodsmoke and battered from encounters with Eater and Huon.
Fiona reaches for Brennan and brings him through.
She is in her chambers in Xanadu. "I would ask how you're doing, but from the look of you and my discussion with Bleys, I can imagine." She looks him over with a critical eye. "You don't need the infirmary?"
By the technicality of being the only funny thing Brennan has heard the whole day, that is also the funniest thing Brennan has heard all day. He laughs, but not heartily or particularly healthily, somewhere between a chuckle and snort. "No," he says. "No, I've had worse, and I've already been there. What I need, really, is to report to the King, as requested. Aside from today's misadventures," he scowls, "everyone seemed to have a message for him. I should have gotten them in writing."
He pauses, although by his posture, he expects to leave very shortly, though probably with Fiona accompanying him. "I suppose I should ask first, is there some particular etiquette for affines?" Brennan lets Skiaza peek out from under his shadow, briefly.
"Don't let Caine see him. Or Benedict. Random will probably choose not to notice him if he doesn't do anything to annoy Random." She leaves unspoken the idea that Brennan shouldn't annoy Random either.
Brennan doesn't even bother to ask why, about Caine or Benedict. "So noted. We might want to add Huon to the list of affine averse. This one helped throw him off a mountain, not long ago." Brennan gives a self-satisfied smile, remembering the graceful arc traced out by Huon's center of mass, surrounded at the edges by tumbling, flailing limbs. If Bleys' self-satisfied smile could ever be described as ghostly, as a hint, as small, or any other adjective implying self-restraint, it would look like Brennan's.
To Skiaza, he gives the command to keep out of sight, keep still, and keep silent. Against the unlikely possibility that Random is wearing the Jewel, Brennan has it coil up close to his person, rather than riding loosely in his shadow.
Fiona seems ready to take Brennan to see Random.
As is Brennan. Since the forms and appearances are always important, he offers an arm to escort her to wherever Random might be at the moment.
Random is on the balcony overlooking the waterfall, sitting with the Queen and Soren. Soren rises as the pair approaches.
If they find Random without intervening delay, Brennan is not so wounded that he can't perform the proper gestures of greeting. "Majesty. I can report on the events in Rebma and Amber in some detail, as you require. I bear news from most of the rest of the Family who were in Amber at the time, also." It is, of course, Random's choice as to which he receives first.
"Tell me the bad news first," replies Random, pointing a wine glass in Brennan's general direction.
Brennan nods a greeting to Soren, and for Vialle's benefit says aloud, "I'm glad to see your safe return, Queen Vialle."
Then, the extreme capsule summary of the bad news: "In no pre-meditated order. One: Huon has the knowledge and the will to follow through on threats to destroy places such as Rebma. Two: Huon has escaped and remains at large. Three: Robin believes that recent activities in the Green have roused the Dragon; she expects reprisals. Four: My sister continues to make trouble in the Shadow which Brand claimed, one result of which was serious injury to Dame Lilly."
Vialle's hand reaches out and Random's is there to catch it. He doesn't look at her, but waits for his advisors, when they don't reply, he speaks.
"Right. So, three, warnings to Julian and Paige in their respective forest redoubts. Fi, can you take that?"
"Yes, your Majesty. With your permission?" Random nods and she withdraws.
"Good, something's done. Now two, we'll send flowers of condolence to Khela with a note that says "Sorry, we'll get 'em next time". He turns to Soren. "Figure out what flowers are right for that, OK?" Soren agrees and also departs. He turns back to Brennan. "Four, Brennan, that's yours to deal with, if you want her not to be a target for Benedict or his daughter." He takes a deep breath.
"OK, now one. Can you give me a few more details? Because that sounds pretty bad."
"I can give you what I know, Majesty," Brennan says. Brennan might have balked at giving out the information he's going to disclose, even to someone obviously as high in Random's trust as Soren. He's not really happy about divulging it in front of Vialle since she's eminently kidnappable, but Random made a point of excluding Fiona and Soren both, while including Vialle; he's already made the decision, and Brennan doesn't argue it. "With apologies if there are too many details."
Still, if at any point Random makes to interrupt or divert him away from the actual details, Brennan follows.
"My involvement in the mess starts far off in Shadow, somewhere that felt like it was closer to the Tree than to here, but still on this side of it. The Plain of Towers, where Weyland dwelt. I was there in part to take care of another issue-- the Eater, the composite being which took Daeon's blood." Brennan makes a gesture as if to brush that history to the side, at least for the moment.
"I was fighting it under the Plain, and, I believe, close to killing it." Brennan winces involuntarily, remembering how he and the Eater had beaten each other down. "Or at least, disaggregating it for a long period. But it was summoned, right out from under me. I thought it had merely run away, again, but when I followed it, I realized I was following a Shadow path, one I don't believe was there originally there and one I don't believe the Eater could have created. I'm left with some notion of summoning or other. The path I followed came out on an undersea tunnel overlooking Rebma and the scene of an impending battle. The Eater was nowhere close and I'd lost the trail. I mention this not only because it explains my involvement in a Rebman affair I had not intended to meddle with, and because it points to evidence that Huon either has some significant Sorcerous support or is now, himself, a Sorcerer.
"Knowing what I was stepping into, I contrived to speak with Llewella and bring myself into the Rebman council of war, with Jerod, Conner, Llewella, and Khela. Their order of battle had already been set, so I gave them my information and belief that the Eater would somehow be fighting on Huon's side. And I know from past, direct experience that the Eater would walk through an army of men and be stronger for the effort. Tritons...." Brennan shrugs, stiffly. "Not an experiment I'd want to conduct. Huon gave an offer to parley at the point, which Khela, Conner and I met. My advice to her was, 'Don't let him grab the sword.'"
Brennan shrugs again. "It was not a parley, but an ultimatum. He wanted the Green Blade, which Khela bore. He had secured a weapon-- a blood-bomb, he called it-- under Rebma and would simply sunder the Pattern if we did not give it to him, thus destroying the various protections around Rebma and killing all within and around it. His tactical error was allowing us to withdraw and consult, thus giving Conner and I time to do what we did, which was, first, to Sorcerously view the Pattern chamber with a device of Conner's, and, second, do something about it. What we saw was the Eater, half embedded in the ceiling of the chamber holding... something... that looked like a human body in a cloud of blood. What we did was... not something I'd advise in ordinary circumstances. We Parted the Veil, and I dove through to deal with that situation, while various armies and other agents fought it out on the surface."
Brennan pauses, remembering, reviewing the information in his mind. When he speaks again, his eyes are pointed in Random's direction, but he's not really seeing Random. He's still seeing the fight under Rebma. "I'll skip some details for brevity. The true threat, this blood-bomb of Huon's, is better described as a blood-golem. After my arrival, the Eater chose to leave the scene again, leaving me to fight the blood-golem, which I believe was, literally, made of Huon's blood. Possibly all of Huon's blood, just a hundred odd feet above the Pattern floor. Even the weapons that it had were made out of blood. I couldn't fight it seriously, lest I stab it, and cause catastrophe. It had no such qualms. I couldn't let it stab me, not even to take one for the team, or I'd have the same catastrophe, and I will be cursed ten times over," Brennan says coldly, "before I let my blood cause that.
"But, it was still linked with the real Huon, I believe. When someone stabbed Huon above, this thing bled and acted as though it was in pain." Brennan comes back to the present, a little bit, and says, "Jerod, I think, from the type of wound and the style of it. But this is in some ways even worse-- now I'm fighting a thing made of blood a few hundred feet above the Pattern, and it's leaking. I fought to block it and when it happened again, I took advantage. Bashed it on the head with the butt of my weapon, threw my cloak over it, and hoped I could get a Trump of Amber working fast enough not to get killed and leave my own blood in the chamber. I could, and I did, and a swimming tackle took us both through to Amber's courtyard. Since the thing really was Huon's blood, Huon's flesh and bones came through, too. Since Huon still had Jerod's spear in his side, and Jerod was holding it, Jerod came, too. Khela must have been in contact as well."
Brennan shakes his head, and returns all the way back to the present moment. "I don't understand how he did what he did. I don't know if it was all him with puppet allies, or if he has a major ally out there providing Sorcerous assistance. I have no idea how he linked up with the Eater. Technically, I don't even know if Rebma survived, but I think it did, since I heard Conner kibbitzing long distance a bit later. But I know Huon is dangerous, determined, and committed enough to contrive suicidal back-up plans that destroy entire realms."
That seems like a good stopping point, so Brennan stops, drained. By raw force of will, he's still standing straight and composed.
Random listens intently, all the while stroking Vialle's hand. She seems quite upset at the idea of Rebma's close call with destruction. "Yeah, Rebma is there. I talked to Llewella. Earthquake City, though. On the other hand, buildings fall more slowly and don't burn like Amber did. Huon, though certainly deserving of it, is technically my vassal, as he was Dad's and I inherited all his messes. I want him captured for me to question... and judge."
Brennan can see Vaille start to say something, but Random squeezes her hand. The king continues. "What are your intentions, Brennan, after the funerals? Are you going hunting or letting sleeping dogs lie?"
Brennan was expecting that question, and has a ready answer. He begins to give it, and begins to reach for his Trump case, but stops.
"Funerals?" He asks. The emphasis is on the plural, and his surprise is evident.
The King nods. "Lucas apparently crossed Moire. She was a prisoner of Corwin's in the custody of Celina, which says something very interesting. Lucas tried to make a trump of her and got stabbed in the heart with a mirror for his transgression, or so says his unquiet spirit, called up by Vere to haunt Corwin's palace.
"Flora is livid. Florid? Anyway, demands justice. If Celina arranged this to drive a wedge between her father and her mother for the benefit of her lover, then it was fecking brilliant." Random trails off at that point. If he has more thoughts on who might have wanted or seen to this circumstance, he does not say.
"We'll bury him in Paris. It's more his kind of place."
Brennan takes in the news in silence, but cycles through several expressions in varying strengths as he receives it: Surprise. Sadness. A brief moment of shock, and then something in his mind falling into place so hard, Random can probably see the cloud of dust displaced out of his ears.
"My condolences to Flora and Lucas' family, if I cannot attend," he says.
Random nods. "Don't plan on ever being forgiven by Flora if you don't. I wish I could get away with that, but uneasy lies the head that wears the crown." Random changes the subject, more or less. "It's a good thing old saying like that are mostly crap."
Then, "You asked a question. My answer is that I intend to follow your instructions." He reaches into his Trump case and withdraws the Huon card that Ambrose gave him, and places it face down on a table, letting his thumb trap the corner so that it snaps last onto the surface.
"I believe Jerod stabbed him at least twice. I shot him, threw him off a mountain, and shot him again. Jerod came close to setting him on fire. And there was probably collateral damage in the fight with the dragons. He wasn't simply defeated, he was beaten, almost to a pulp and unless he's found an incredibly fast Shadow, he still is," Brennan says. "There may never be a better time."
"If you tell me to, I'll assemble a team for your consent to go grab his ass and bring him to you alive. If you tell me not to, I will assume you don't want me to hunt him down the hard way, either, and will turn my attention to other concerns." Whether he will be happy about that or not is Brennan's private concern.
"The card comes from Ambrose," he adds. "He offers it as proof of his earnest intentions. It was found among Brand's effects, and is in Brand's hand. Huon may not even know it exists."
Random grins. "So, let me tell you what I want. I want Huon, on his knees in chains before the throne, me sitting on it, asking him why I should spare his life." He drops the grin. "What I don't want to do is to preside over another damn funeral. So, I'm not going to tell you to. And I'm not going to tell you not to.
"Bring me a detailed plan, one that Fiona and Bleys have critiqued, one that Benedict has had input into, one that Caine thinks has adequate precautions, and we'll see."
"Speaking to a nephew, Caine will state the blindingly obvious: Don't leave him unattended by Family, even for a heartbeat." Brennan reflects a moment long, then adds, "Benedict will note that your conditions negate the element of speed and allow him to recover. To be fair, so would assembling a team of interested parties, considering funeral arrangements. Bleys, knowing that, will use it to strengthen his case for waiting, hoping Huon will show his hand in another direct attack." None of those are offered as arguments or complaints. Another moment of reflection, and Brennan says, "I'll give it some serious thought.
"I would be remiss if I didn't point out another option: Use the Trump yourself and negotiate his return, if you think it's negotiable." Considering the knees-and-chains clause, that seems unlikely, so Brennan quickly adds, "But I would be even more remiss if I didn't point out the obvious flaw: Then he'll know we have it and are looking for him." Unpalatable, but, it is Random's decision.
"We are a direct family, or at least my branch is. I'm all for a plan that says "make contact, hold him still, beat him down, drag him back, and weld steel bars around his wrists and ankles." Random acts out each step of his plan as if Huon were before him.
"Your Majesty has captured the essence of my forming plan," Brennan says. "But given his skill at running, welding his wrists to his ankles may have to happen on the field." Or, breaking his kneecaps, Brennan doesn't add.
"But that's why I said talk to Fi and Bleys and the others. They'll have ideas that will make the odds decidedly uneven, which fits my goal of no more funerals. You don't have to pursue this, but I don't forbid it."
Random holds up a single finger. "Oh, and before I forget, in case there was any doubt, I would negotiate with him, if he's got something to buy his life with. I would've dealt with Brand at the Abyss, and Huon is no Brand."
"A spirited beating followed by negotiation from a position of strength," Brennan says. "Understood. I have some details to work on." Brennan allows himself one more moment of reflection on that plan, then turns to other topics.
"So much for the bad news. There is some good news: Before the fighting started, I saw the order of battle. It didn't look good for Huon's forces. He evidently agreed, or he wouldn't have set up his grand murder-suicide plot. Once removed from the field, but with Llewella and Conner still on scene, I expect that Huon's forces have been dispersed entirely. Nor does Huon have what he went to war for-- Belagamon is back in Khela's hands. And Rebma remains, which I hope implies that there has been no damage to its Pattern." Brennan watches Random for a reaction to that last, without being obvious about it. "Also, the thing which was Eater, while still at large, is no longer in possession of a large quantity of Family blood.
"And then there is news which simply news. With Huon defeated and Moire, as you imply, in Paris, it would seem there are none to oppose Khela's consolidation. And I believe her plans include freeing the Tritons." Brennan sounds very skeptical about the good results of that last. "Also, Paige reports that she will need to find a land route by which to lead Lalal's people into Broceliande; as a consequence, Brita may be leading a batch of refugees by sea rather than Paige. Another new cousin showed up; we weren't introduced, but I believe her name is Brij. Looks like she could be Folly's sister."
"Mother. Prince Martin's future Mother-in-law. I have some personal and rather unhappy memories of Tritons, but perhaps when they are not controlled by Moire, it will be an improvement." He reaches out and pets Vialle's ear. It's unclear who is soothing who. "I never met her, in Texorami. She was not a woman to inspire lukewarm reception and is either hated or beloved, depending on who you ask."
Brennan blinks. "She seemed to harbor a grudge against Huon," he says, mildly, which will probably tell Random all he needs to know.
"Speaking of hatred, I was not loved by my Queen's kinswoman, and what kindness she did me was accidental. Jerod is convinced that Rebma will want to judge Huon. I reserve that right for myself, by the ancient and traditional laws of Xanadu, which I will jot down shortly. I will not set the precedent that any may judge us save ourselves."
"Jerod's political calculus is probably correct," Brennan says. "He knows them far better than I do, and I think they'll want to judge Huon, too." There is emphasis on 'want' to make clear that Brennan distinguishes between what Rebma wants, what Rebma needs, and what Rebma is entitled to. "On a purely political basis, Khela can claim that she defended Rebma where Moire fled, a claim about the past. She can claim that unity under her is necessary now to ensure he does not succeed again, a claim about the present. She may try to extend that into a call to bring him to her court for judgement, a claim about the future. I've only spoken to her briefly, but the woman is not a fool and has an excellent advisor in her mother. She surely knows that in some sense, Huon is the best thing that's happened, and may try to ride that as far as she can." Brennan frowns, "I half expect her to try and Knight me on that principle.
"That said, unless Moins' line has a newly discovered talent for walking Shadow, or an old and hidden trick for bringing people and thing from Shadow, the number of agents she has capable of going and getting him is fairly small." Brennan doesn't bother to name them, nor to point out that the absolute best way to prevent Khela from judging him is to go get him and bring him back to Random-- he's already made that point.
But something in that line of thought triggers a memory. "Oh. One more thing. Weyland is no longer in the Plain of Towers. A somewhat reliable report indicates he may be heading here or to Paris seeking you or Corwin. No, I did not disclose any recent history to Weyland when we spoke previously. He either determined that for himself, or has a source of recent history."
Brennan waits to see if Random has questions or instructions.
"Excellent, Xanadu gets its first visit from a travelling salesman. There's an old joke we've heard before. 'Sorry Weyland, there aren't any spare rooms, you'll have to stay in my daughter's rooms.' Of course, Oberon had already had the sword made by then...
"Anyway, I'd like to know what you think we should do about Cambina's service. Any thoughts? You and Jerod are the most affected."
Brennan's face falls.
"I hadn't-- I..." Brennan pauses to regroup before continuing. "Thank you for asking. I... had avoided thinking about it. Something small. Family only, I think, or close to it." He gives a half-hearted attempt to mimic the way she'd wave her hands in frustration at people in general who got too close. "She was a private woman." And Brennan isn't a people person. "I've given more thought to the design of the memorial, to be honest." That's something Brennan understands.
Through much of this, Brennan is glancing in Vialle's direction, knowing she can't see him looking, hoping either she'll say something about the Incident or Random will invite questions... because he's not going to interrogate the Queen, when Random is sitting right next to her.
"Where is she, now?" Brennan asks.
"Resting in state in what would, in most other kingdoms, be the royal chapel. Under guard."
Brennan's brow lowers and his eyes narrow. Random's sense of humor is eccentric, to be charitable, but this doesn't seem to be that.
Vialle turns towards his voice. "You can see her if you'd like. But you don't have to if you don't want to."
"I do. I gather this is you delicately saying I shouldn't, or won't like what I see, but I do. I must. Even if you're right," Brennan says.
"Sir Brennan, you should do what you must, even if I am right. My advice to you is that the best remedy for grief is duty."
Random looks at Vialle, somewhat surprised. "I'd've said 'bourbon', but feel free to try the Queen's method."
That seems not to be what Brennan was expecting, either, but not to a degree that causes him to falter. "Right now, Queen Vialle, my duty lies with Cambina." Turning back to Random, but including Queen Vialle in the response, he finishes, "If there arise any other questions about the events of this day, I believe I was present for most of the important ones, during and after the Battle of Rebma, and I intend to remain in Xanadu until after the funeral. By your Majesty's leave, I depart to see to Cambina. I trust the guards will maintain a respectful distance." Brennan waits long enough to Random to object or to give consent, and if consent is given, he departs.
Signy takes her leave of the King and heads off with Red Fox Claws and Tomat to find an available suite of rooms. After getting there, she bids the two men goodnight and heads into her room, where she sleeps until midmorning of the next day. After a quick trip to the baths, she heads back to the room and collects most of the bread, meat and cheeses that are in the anteroom and knocks on Red Fox Claws' door.
Red Fox Claws opens it immediately. Signy sees a dagger on the bed and a whetstone. Tomat is at the writing table, looking up at her.
Signy gives a quick, warm grin to the two men. "The staff delivered some breakfast, if you haven't already eaten. I thought we might be able to catch up this morning," she says hopefully.
Both men look pleased to see her. "We are at your disposal, Lady Signy", says Tomat.
"Yes. Perhaps we could explore this place. It's amazing! I'd like to explore that cliffside." replies Red Fox Claws.
Brother Tomat frowns. "Or better, that city below. I understand this has all been built in a matter of months..."
Now it is Red Fox Claws turn to look uninterested in Tomat's suggestion.
Signy ruthlessly quashes the impulse to roll her eyes.
She quickly sets up the food on a nearby table, and then leans back against the wall with a piece of pastry. "So, Prince Garrett said that you visited my father's Tower with Brennan," she notes, looking at Red Fox Claws. "What happened?"
As Red Fox Claws speaks, he plays with his long tooth dagger. "I found him, alone on the plains. He seemed hero material, and a bit of a target, so I undertook to teach him. He's good with horses, and stole one belonging to Prince Brennan for himself.
"I considered him a sign, or a vision, and a challenge. We rode to the tower, and it was opened. We entered, ran up a staircase, and I fell upwards and smashed some things. This was how I met Prince Brennan and his warband. He is a sorcerer, but of the rare type who carries also a sword and seems not unfamiliar with it. His chief man at arms, Dignity, is still a boy, but not useless.
[Does this sound like something that Signy is familiar with?]
[OOC: Well, she's absolutely familiar with the Wizard(Tower Lord)/Hero dichotomy of her home shadow. A sorcerer with the Principle of Space could easily create a trap involving reverse gravity and there are other ways to do this as well. She doesn't recall this specific one in her father's tower.]
Signy frowns. "It seems odd that my father would just let people walk in like that -- did you find any signs or traces of him?"
He nods. "Your father has not been seen since you went in. Those who know this assume you annihilated each other."
Signy shrugs. "Sadly, he seemed well when I left him." She takes a bite of food and chews for a second. "Did the rest of the Band fare well after I left?"
He grins. "As you'd expect. We broke and were like normal bands again, with changing alliances and friends across lines as often as not. Coyote's Tail ended up leading his own band, as you'd expect. Forelock and Gull Wing made a small fortune taking out a sleeping Tower Lord, turned it into a very large fortune gambling in the South, and were assassinated by the man they'd ruined. Avenging them was the last time I went South, and I hope never to do so again. Too warm for me."
Red Fox Claws continues and seems likely to detail seven decades of activity for the entire band, if no one interrupts him.
Signy nods and holds up a hand to pause his retelling, a small smile hovering around the corners of her mouth. "This tale is too long, and should be recounted over drinks some night, I think. For you it's been years, and for me, just days," she notes. She casually hooks a chair with her foot and drags it close enough to drop into, glancing over at Tomat.
"So how did my long-lost brother end up at your doorstep?"
"In trouble, which he got into looking for you, Lady," Tomat explains. "He did not know you existed, or so he said. When he found hints of you, he followed them, and that led him to the Abbey. I saved him, or perhaps I saved them from him, and told him I'd help him find you."
Signy frowns. "Why would there be problems with your Order? And why would he have been led to them?"
Tomat sighs. "The Order is no longer my Order. I left them. More precisely, they changed and I would not, so I should say that they left me. The new leaders wish to find out the secrets of your family. They do not care how."
Signy's gaze sharpens and locks down on Tomat. "Could they have been behind my Father's disappearance?"
Tomat thinks on this for a moment. "I don't see how. It's not that they harbor no malice nor evil intent, for surely they do. It's just that they lack the necessary abilities to put themselves into a position to do so.
"Were it so, it would be as part of a contract that he'd agreed to. They are much better at the web and the enticement than the hunt and the kill."
Red Fox Claws laughs once, a short barking "Ha!" Tomat looks over at him, then continues. "They would certainly pay him quite a bit for his knowledge, but there is nothing he wants, from them, anymore.
Signy quiets Red Fox Claws with a quick glance. "What did my father get from them? And what did he do for them in return?"
Tomat shrugs. "I don't know. I was too junior. "
Red Fox Claws looks back at him. "We could raise a band and go find out without asking politely, Lady."
Signy clearly gives serious thought to Red Fox Claws' suggestion. "What do you think, Tomat? Do you think they'll try anything?"
"Only if they think of something they can get away with, Lady. Mostly, they are brokers of information. Although..."
He pauses. "I hesitate to mention it, but there were always hints that someday the order would solve some holy mystery and accomplish ancient prophesy. It used to seem like nothing more than the self-important rantings of my elders. Probably was."
Red Fox Claws cleans his knife on his jacket. "But if they think they need to take knowledge from someone, your new family here are the biggest Tower Lords ever. That's who they'd target."
Tomat nods, unhappily.
Signy takes a moment to digest the information.
"I don't suppose that you know anything about this mystery or prophecy of theirs, is there," she asks almost rhetorically. "Why would my brother have thought to come to see the monks about me? What was there that led him to them?"
"He did not. He came to seek information about a ring. It belonged to your Mother. He came to us to translate the inscription, for we are known for selling information. Depending on what you need to know, we--- they may be second only to the Yahrens in ability to sell esoteric secrets, and the Klybesians are much easier to deal with, if you can pass the tests."
Signy's eyes glint slightly at this. "What are the the tests," she asks. Her question seems to be somewhat more pointed than before. "And what does your Order ask in return?"
Tomat shrugs. "The tests would vary, and were more about determining the nature of the questioner and what could be sold at what price than anything else. Some were killed just to discourage the unwise and the frivolous from asking. They were not selected as randomly as that sounds, of course.
"As to the price, well. There was always a cost, My Lady. For some it was knowledge. For some, such as myself, it was indenture."
Red Fox Claws nods. "I was wondering about that."
Signy looks slightly surprised. "What did you ask of them?"
Tomat flushes. "I'd -- I'd rather not say, My Lady. It's personal."
Red Fox Claws smirks.
Signy waves her hand in dismissal. "Forget I even asked."
"That ring of my mother's -- what was the language it was in? Surely with all the resources that this family has he shouldn't have needed to go to the Order for this....."
Tomat nods. "Mabrahoring. Perhaps he thought a debt to the Order was less burdensome than a debt to the family."
Signy finishes up the rest of the roll in her hand, and takes a couple of short steps towards the door. "I suppose that he kept the ring," she muses. "Do you recall what the inscription on the ring was? What sort of ring was it?"
"What I told you in Caine's office. 'Made in token of a price Deirdre of the Sorrows paid to the Smith' And 'Seek her on the Plain of Towers'. It's hard to forget changing inscriptions on rings that are written in the tongue of demons. It's like they don't want to be forgotten."
Signy shakes her head in irritation at her absentmindedness, and starts to move towards the door.
"Yes. I need to be more attentive. There's too many things going on, and I can ill afford to be absentminded now."
She reaches the door and turns back to the two. "I have to ask you to be patient for a little longer -- I have a couple of things to deal with with this new family, but we can make some plans and shortly be able to be off from here."
The two men agree, and follow Signy.
Last modified: 21 January 2010