The path through the cave is long, but straight. The rock changes underfoot and the air is warmer or colder, but the trail is obvious. The Eater is not making an effort to hide his passage.
The cave walls are slick, then around a corner they are wet, then around another they lead under a waterfall. Brennan and his companions continue apace. Time seems to be meaningless, but neither Dignity nor the Aelfs tire.
Around a turn, the air turns to water--breathable water. Dignity starts, but waves the Aelfs in. "Breathe normally, it's the sea-lands." They move in as if this is normal.
They press on. A further turn takes them to a cave with what looks like a giant's throne. It is merely one of many wonders in this cavern. Past that the cave heads sharply down, in flat terraces like stairs. They get more and more narrow and regular and eventually, Brennan decides they are no longer moving through shadow.
The cave ends in a well-lit entrance. It comes out the side of an undersea mountain across the valley is a city that looks exactly like Amber, including a version of Kolvir with a castle two thirds of the way up it.
The city is closed and defended for war, and a besieging army sits outside of it.
There is a deep, curious, creative side to Brennan's mind, darting, questing after new information, changing the rules whenever the rules don't suit, made of broken glass and moving like lightning. That side works Sorcery. And there is another side, practical, pragmatic, precise, made of iron and and flashing like ruby. That side manages logistics on the march, and knows the rules before they're broken. There, crouched in the cave mouth, Brennan lets both sides run according to their natures.
The lightning side is sure that the Eater didn't come here under its own power, and probably not even willingly, and wonders which side called it. Brennan knows he doesn't have enough information to know, but his hunch is that it was Huon. That side of his mind spends an idle moment wondering what concessions he might wring from Llewella in exchange for rolling a column of Triton down on the army below... except he hasn't got a Trump of Llewella, and is unskilled in mirror magic. Back to the Eater, if that was indeed Huon, that's information that Rebma would do well to have. But again, Brennan has no way of communicating that. There is Caine, though, and Bleys. Either one of which might try to set him to a task other than tracking Eater. Fiona, normally a refuge, might be even worse.
Meanwhile, the iron side is focused on questions it can answer, keeping the lightning from running too far ahead. Are the banners of the Silver Horn present, as expected? Is Huon's command tent visible? Are the supply trains exposed? Do they look sufficient to conduct a waiting siege? He counts whatever passes for campfires here. Are patrols running? Are patrols in danger of seeing him? Is the Eater, or whatever it will call itself this time, visible below? Are there signs of its passage? Is it or any other unusual creatures with the besieging army? Is the army even made of men? What can Brennan see here that the defenders might not be able to?
Brennan's best guess is that the army is breaking camp for an immanent move. There are some pickets on a small line of double-ridges between the army and city, but the bulk of the force is rapidly getting ready to move. He doesn't think he's in immediate danger of being spotted.
The Eater is not in sight. The army looks to be made of men, although it's hard to tell at this distance.
When the separate monolectics run themselves to their tentative conclusions, Brennan backs away from the cave entrance and looks at Dignity and the four Aelfs. "Welcome to Rebma," he says, "In a time of war. Our situation has become complex." He sets Dignity and two Aelfs to watching the cave entrance. The other two he asks if they sense their heir, although he expects he knows the answer. When he's heard it, he casts the cards, the better to get both parts of his nature working together:
"What is the fastest route to the death of the remains of the Eater at my hands?"
Bottom Row:
Drowning in Armor, reversed
The Fool
Striking the Dragon's Tail
Middle row:
Bleys, reversed
The Dragon, reversed
Top Row:
The Hermit
Brennan regards the bottom row not without a certain degree of irony, considering that he is underwater while wearing a breastplate. The closest thing to a narrative that he can wring from the bottom layer is that he's been prudent in his past fights against the Eater (thank you very much, cards), and that he's currently free to do as he pleases, but that following his present course of action is much more difficult than it appears. That's consistent with the notion that either Huon or Rebma has pressed the thing into service.
Bleys reversed as the Virtue makes almost no sense to Brennan whatsoever. Paige and Edan he considers and rejects, unless he learns one of them is actually in Rebma. What else could it mean? Huon's hatred for Bleys working in Brennan's favor? The Dragon reversed, though, is fairly clear, because it is also perfectly consistent with the Eater having been summoned to play a role in the war. And since the summoning and Huon's army breaking camp to begin an assault happened at roughly the same time, that points to Huon being the summoner.
And the Hermit, as fate? Brennan smiles to himself. The choice is between getting involved in the war, vs walking away-- fate linked to present situation, which always struck Brennan as the proper relation between those two cards. But if the Eater is as linked into this situation as the cards imply, it's easy to read the Hermit fate as meaning that Brennan's decision is vital to the outcome of the larger situation as to the private one.
"Well, when you put it that way," Brennan murmurs to the cards, "Flattery goes a long way." That may be the clearest Trump reading Brennan has ever seen, let alone performed.
He leaves the cards as they lay, and shuffles out Fiona's.
"Favored Aunt," he says, if she answers, "I am looking out of an undersea cave, watching Huon's army break camp to assault Rebma. My knowledge of current events implies that your son is on the pointy end of that army."
Fiona appears almost at once. "Brennan. I am aware of events in Rebma. I didn't know you were there. You've heard about Cambina?" Her voice is full of concern.
Brennan's jaw starts a response for a half an agonized second, then his face goes colder than the active Trump in his hands. He nods sharply to answer the question, but doesn't want to talk about it unless there is urgent and breaking news so he pulls himself roughly back to his present situation.
"I didn't know I was here until about five minutes ago. Here is a capsule history: You'll have heard about a thing called Hob, or Eater, I think-- in fact, we may have mentioned it when Ambrose extracted us from Weyland's Tower some while ago. It took some of Daeon's blood when he and Lilly encountered it on the way home from the War, calling itself Hob. Lilly, Marius and Signy ran into again outside of Weyland's Tower, and it ate CloudEater and fought them off. I've been hunting it since I ran across it in Weyland's Shadow, because I don't want it running loose and I don't want to lose its trail. I've fought it twice now, and killed or removed parts of it. It was calling itself Robin Goodfellow the last time it gave a name. Probably something else, by now.
"But here's where it gets troubling," Brennan says. "The last time I faced it, I thought it ran away, and I followed it through a Shadow path that led here. Nothing about this is right, as I understand things. The path was fragile, so I don't think it was a natural one-- it wouldn't last. It may already be gone. But I don't think it should have been able to do that, nor do I think such a thing would run willingly from a place near the Tree to a place of its weakness such as Rebma. I'm left to hypothesize that it was," Brennan makes a vague, finger-jointy pulling motion with his free hand, "summoned, for lack of a better word." He's obviously unhappy with that hypothesis. "If summoned to fight, it makes a certain sense, since it could probably still walk through a mortal army unscathed.
"So before I go storming down there making a big mess, I seek advice: Does this thing have a history longer than I know about? Does this... summoning idea seem plausible? Especially given the configuration of force in and about Rebma?"
Fiona lets Brennan spin out his question, and takes a moment to consider it. "Very plausible, if Khela and Llewella have the sort of sorcery the legends accord to Rebmans. Moins didn't tie the Tritons to her by good looks and charm." There's a bit of amusement, and something else, almost pride, that comes through the link to Brennan. It is certain that Fiona wishes him to know whatever he catches, though, because Fiona does not leak.
"There's no reason to think Huon has anything like that level of sorcery, unless he has some ally we don't know of. Particularly one from the Chaotic branch of the family, and they'd be very wary helping anyone who's trying to kill brother dear."
Brennan gives something between a sigh and a low growl. "An ally isn't something I'd considered since I verified that Huon's powder is not active in Amber," he says. "I wouldn't count Dara and Cleph amongst the wariest of our circle of antagonists, but I would have thought they'd still be distracted by the Meg situation. Madoc? I only consider that even slightly because I think this Hob thing has been bound to Weyland's vicinity for some time, and we know Madoc was seeking an alliance there-- it means nothing more than that Madoc would have known of the Hob's general whereabouts. Although for that matter, Huon is following exactly the advice Weyland gave to Lilly when she asked about a Pattern Blade, as though he'd had a similar conversation before we did."
Brennan shakes his head. "That leaves Llewella and Khela, although with the Tritons there, I wouldn't have thought they'd need something like... whatever the thing is calling itself after our latest scrimmage. Nor do I have a clear idea where they'd even have learned of the thing.
"Do you have the means to contact your son, preferably, or your sister?" he asks. "I'd rather not leave this position, as it could be rather useful."
"I do. If you wish to contact them, use the principle of Space to conduct your voice directly to him." Implicit in Fiona's instruction is that she considers Brennan a competent enough sorcerer to parlay that instruction into a proper spell. After a moment, it occurs to her to say, "I can loan you my trump of Llewella if you need it."
Brennan acquires that look as though he's running calculations in his head and begins to respond, but stops himself dead for a quick moment, thinking rapidly.
"Huon," he says. "Llewella. Conner. Khela."
He looks more than a little disatisfied with himself, then asks, "Where is Moire? Do we know?"
"Llewella says she went to Corwin for help, but Celina has gone there too, and Corwin put her in charge in his absence." This apparently amuses Fiona. "Florimel is in Paris as well; she's likely to help Celina if only to follow up on old feuds. She holds grudges."
Brennan's face sets when he hears of Moire's location, and nods when Fiona is finished speaking. He looks back down the passage he's just traveled, saying, "And unless I am very mistaken, this cave in which I find myself is the passage from Rebma to Paris. Yes, Favoured Aunt, I would be very grateful to borrow a Trump of your sister. It's Llewella I think I need to speak with, and given past politics I have no incentive to advertise my skills to her."
Fiona gestures and her deck of cards appears in her hand. She shuffles out a card and passes it to Brennan, face down. "Good luck." Her tone suggests she thinks Brennan may need it.
"Thank you, Favored Aunt," he says, as he takes the card from her. Whatever his private thoughts, he gives Fiona his best grin, suggesting that the rest of the universe will need it more than he does. "I will send your regards to Conner when I see him." Unless Fiona has further business, he closes the contact.
Then he looks again at the Trump cast before him, thinking about it in the context of his new thoughts about Moire. Moire, Moire, Moire. Daughter of Moins, notional Queen of Rebma, in exile. As such, notional mistress of the Tritons, although that couldn't be particularly effective if she were still in exile, but it certainly supported the idea that she would be well versed in summoning and controlling. That, and her locatin in Paris on the other end of this tunnel, made her a serious possibility as the Goodfellow's summoner. It seemed likelier than Huon or Llewella, all things considered.
After all, if Brennan were in Moire's position, he'd ally with Huon and betray him, too.
So, again. The fastest way to the Goodfellow's death by Brennan's hand: True prudence in the past, Freedom now, and underestimating the threat in the future. Whose freedom, though? Brennan's? The Goodfellow's? Or, with Moire in the game, the Tritons'? Brennan scowls, after a moment-- hadn't the last reading that touched on Huon and Rebma had two of those cards in the bottom row as well?
And now Bleys and the Dragon, both reversed, as virtue and fault. Bleys in particular makes no sense to Brennan. He'd almost think it could be a blind bid to represent Conner, but Fiona reversed would have been more straightforward. Discarding Bleys himself, and his children, Brennan lets his mind free-associate: Bleys... Werewindle... Pattern Blade... Belagamon? Brennan doesn't particularly want it, but could Llewella already hold it? And something about the Dragon bothers him-- two Dragon aspected cards in one reading is not a good omen.
And then the hermit, glaring noncommitally at him.
Enough.
Brennan gathers up the cards from the spread around him and goes to join Dignity and the four Aelfs.
"All right," he says. "Our job has just gotten more difficult. The city you see below you," he gestures grandly out the cave, "is Rebma. It has been through a civil war recently, and is besieged by a third party. All of the major players except the former Queen are members of my Family, none more distant than a cousin. I believe, but I do not yet know for certain, that our quarry will be joining the besieging army, so I am about to contact the defenders.
"We may go to join them directly. Be aware of some things, and let me speak bluntly: First, my aunts, uncles and cousins not only do not know about your Heir, they will place no priority on it. They have their own war to worry about. However, not only am I still bound by my promise to try and recover him, I still want that thing dead for my own purposes. So follow my lead.
"Second, between the actual war and the Family politics, the latter is by far the more deadly. Be circumspect in your dealings with my Family, assume you are being watched, and hope you do not capture their interest."
Then he calls Dignity closer to him, a murmurs into his ear, "Mouth closed about everything you saw in the Tower and under the Mountain. Understand?"
He then looks to see if anyone has any questions.
[And I suppose, in the unlikely event that no one does, Brennan uses Llewella's Trump.]
[Turns out there are no questions. The aelfs look itchy, though.]
Jerod [makes] his way out of Huon's tent and away from his uncle to be able to draw a card without being minutely observed, selecting Llewella's card and concentrating upon the image.
"What is it now?" Llewella replies sharply.
"Jerod...I need to come through." he says. His expression is...expressionless. He retains a bland appearance throughout the call for any outsider observers.
"Ah, Jerod. Come to me, then." She reaches out and pulls him through, in a dazzling display of rainbow light.
Llewella is in an audience chamber behind the sapphire throne, with two tritons and one of her generals. The tritons' tails are twitching slightly. "Welcome back to Rebma, nephew. How went your various missions?"
"It's good to be back." Jerod says flatly. "It's fair to say that I'd like to kill Huon now but unfortunately I have to consider the bigger picture." as he considers the situation before him and Llewella's most recent tone.
"You sounded a bit tense just now. A problem?"
"Perhaps. Someone seems to have assaulted Prince Caine, possibly with Remban mirror arts. I can't think of anyone qualified who would care nor anyone who would care who is qualified. If correct, there's some sort of conspiracy."
Jerod smiles just slightly. Anyone foolish enough to take on Caine must either be very good, or have a real death wish. A good thing arrows don't work well underwater.
She shakes her head and her hair continues to move for some time. "What do you see as the bigger picture? Huon's life is forfeit to me, or to Khela, if we choose to take it, for assaulting Rebma."
"Huon is either incredibly stupid or playing a strange game." Jerod says. "He asked me to inform Rebma that he has a price to lifting his siege, though he did not provide any specifics. He made a mention of wanting to be King of Rebma, as a way to better bargain with his brothers but unless he's dumb he knows he can't do it so why continue the siege. And if I thought he was actually dumb enough to believe he could, I'd kill him, curse or no curse, for being that foolish and polluting the gene pool.
"Something's still not right, there's something missing with the big picture and Huon has a piece of it. However, I've delivered my message to him, which allowed me to return here to allow for the next move to be made.
"For me, that's calling Random and Benedict. What might yours be? Caine, or Huon?"
She nods absently, ignoring his question. "He didn't do anything useful, like give you a trump of him that we can call him on, did he? The only thing worrisome is what magical abilities his allies bring to him. You should call your uncles, then I should send you back to Khela, to report."
"I intend to contact Bleys after advising Random and Benedict." Jerod says. "If dear Uncle put Huon into his little prison like was claimed to have been done, then he might have taken the precaution of having a way to monitor his charge, like with a trump. If such were available, it might come in handy should we decide to go after his army. Dad did it with Corwin after all in his disposing of his fleet."
Llewella nods again, and her eyes narrow a bit at the mention of Eric and Corwin.
"Yes, that would be useful. Will you be available and interested in returning to Huon with our answer, assuming it isn't an attack? Or even if it is, perhaps..."
"Assuming that his Majesty or Benedict does not decide to take care of the matter themselves, yes." Jerod says.
Llewella's nostrils flare, briefly. "Yes, there is that. You may use the antechamber to make your trump calls."
"As you wish." Jerod replies with a slight smile, the kind his father might have given another when witnessing the emotional responses from others. Whether Jerod believes her responses to be valid or not, trivial or not, amusing or not, is something he keeps to himself.
With that, he departs for the antechamber, drawing his deck out and finding a suitably quiet spot. He pulls Benedict's card first, figuring that the conversation is likely to be shorter than the expected one with Random and begins to concentrate.
"Uncle, it is Jerod."
"Bide," says Benedict's voice. Jerod gets a brief impression of rock and velocity, and then there's a short wait. "Yes, Jerod?"
"I've met Huon." Jerod says. "He remains in proximity to Rebma in siege mode. He has made comments concerning possible intentions but little more. We may be taking action to eliminate him. Do you have time to hear more?"
"If you wish to eliminate him, please do so as far from Rebma as possible. I am occupied with other matters, but if you or my sister wishes advice on fighting him, please let me know. Tonight perhaps, when I am not in the company of a half dozen of your cousins and uncles."
The contact closes abruptly. Benedict did not seem angry, merely busy.
Jerod looks at the card for a moment, pursing his lips as he does so. Benedict, surrounded by family...an odd situation indeed.
He puts the card away, making a mental notation to try again later, especially since he's already got an invitation as it were. His next card is pulled with a bit of reluctance, but given the possible options for dealing with Huon, an enemy of an enemy comes to mind as he views Bleys' card.
"Uncle, it's Jerod."
Bleys accepts the contact. He's standing in a room that looks like it ought to be in Castle Amber by the look of the window frame, but the room seems to have been scoured to the walls and the windows themselves were blown out. "Yes, Jerod?"
Jerod makes another notation with the mental background being offered, and with the fact that there is a background being offered at all, expecting that Bleys as one of the redheads would have had good control on what was being shown.
"I was wondering if I might be able to garner some insight from Huon's jailer concerning this long lost uncle and his behaviour." Jerod says. "He is outside Rebma, alive and in siege mode and I have little desire for him to remain in that condition."
Jerod's tone does not indicate which of the two conditions he mentioned that he wishes to rectify, if in fact he is even differentiating them.
Bleys nods. There is movement around him, but it is unclear what it is.
"Well, jailing him was really a minor affair from my perspective, but it sounds as if the lad persists in seeing me as the author of his troubles rather than the executor of troubles he wrote largely upon himself.
"The hard, cold, intelligence that he is missing is that were he to become a significant threat, the family would rally against him, as we did our brother Brand. Given that he considers the advantage to come from the pattern-blade, he should consider the case of having to fight myself and Corwin even if he does manage to wrest the third blade from the current holder.
"Sadly, the worst thing for him would be to obtain what he desires, but I doubt that that is in the cards."
"I made him aware of a number of elements of our recent history, including the losses suffered and that we have rallied to fight common causes." Jerod says. "He feels he does not fall into the category of a significant threat so he believes we will not unite against him.
"Cneve's blade is currently in the possession of Llewella's daughter Khela, who looks to style herself the new Queen of Rebma. Whether she might survive a Pattern walk with it on her hip is questionable." Jerod says. "She is surrounded by an army of Tritons, so I'm afraid granting Huon his wish might be a bit too much trouble even for me."
"Don't underestimate yourself, Jerod! No one else does."
"I know it is a long shot, but I was wondering if you might happen to have a sketch of Huon lying around. I thought I might take a page from Dad's book on trump calls to family and keep him busy while we deal with his army, should it come down to that."
Bleys nods once. "Good thought, but I don't. You'd need to speak to my late brother or one of his students for such a thing. Between us, I think that Brand was afraid of Huon. He was never a very good judge of character."
Jerod frowns a moment. "Why would Brand have been afraid of Huon?"
Bleys shrugs, "I've no idea. It certainly doesn't seem reasonable. He was also afraid of Corwin. Perhaps an Oracle told him that his plans would be overdone by a brother no one expected to see again..."
Bleys walks in front of what seems to be the mantel in Caine's office. "Is there anything else? There are some issues here I need to attend to, if you can spare my attention, nephew. King Corwin the Great of Paris is arriving momentarily."
Jerod frowns again, making a mental note not to let it become a permanent facial expression. "Really? That's odd. Since Caine is regent, that normally would be his job. Since it would seem you are dealing with Corwin, so the last question that begs asking is why Caine isn't?"
"No idea," replies Prince Bleys. "The question of the day is 'did he abandon his post voluntarily or was he taken against his will?' If we find him, we can pursue your question, if it's not moot by then. If Robin and I happen to disappear from the Castle in the next few minutes, then the answer to 'why' is likely 'because Corwin made it so'." He smiles, broadly.
Picking up a few more pieces of information in the process, Jerod nods once. "In that case, I will not keep you from your upcoming duties, enjoyable as I am sure they will be. If you could, please advise Corwin about Huon and his apparent unreceptive behaviour towards his offer. I will contact him later to provide more information."
And assuming there is nothing more, the connection will end.
As he puts away Bleys' card, he thinks for a moment, sifting what he has learned. Benedict surrounded by family in a distant place, Corwin in Amber. Caine missing from Amber and Bleys, with Robin no less, in Amber, so no Random, otherwise Bleys wouldn't be playing up the host role. Something happening in Rebma that Llewella is investigating, with Huon outside the walls. Vialle missing and Cambina...
He stops as the line of thought hits a wall, before he shakes his head a moment, forcing the train of thought to continue. Vialle missing and Cambina dead. Too many things on the go, too many events happening. It's not right.
He shakes his head again, muttering to himself as he pulls out Random's card. "Too many players, too many pieces are in motion. This doesn't happen, not normally."
If the family is as scattered as it seems, then the three principals of his plan need to know what is happening with Huon, before Jerod can go forward with his own, and he begins to focus on Random's card.
"Uncle...it's Jerod."
Random smiles back. He's sitting on a rock, overlooking the sea. The sky and water are wrong for Xanadu. "Prince Jerod, of course it is. Is there something I can rescue you from or are you content to stay where you are?"
"The theme of rescues of late has made me think that it is I who should be offering the service." Jerod replies. "You're the latest in a long line of people who have been busy or disappear in the last 10 minutes. Benedict, Bleys, Caine and Llewella, with Corwin running around in there somewhere. I'm wondering if anyone is still where one would expect them to be.
"I called to advise that Huon thinks he'd get a better deal from his peers by being king of Rebma. I disagree with that. Benedict has asked I call him later about pointers on how to deal with him. Once done, I'm going to inquire to Llewella about delivering a smackdown."
"Benedict, Caine, and Corwin are here, or were a moment ago. Bleys is always busy and Llewella has her war to run. Tell her that Brita and Ossian have come to Avalon, if you would. She shouldn't worry about them being lost beneath her castle."
"I will do that uncle, thank you." is Jerod's short reply.
[Random] takes a deep breath. "Huon would get a better deal from us by being King of Rebma, but Moins' spirit would probably not allow that, unless his mother was of the Rebman royal line, which I bet she wasn't.
"Best if you bring him to me, in chains. We can resolve this fully if you manage that.
"Anything else? We're about to leave here."
"For Huon, that will be more sufficient." Jerod says, making a mental note that Random said in chains, but did not specific living or dead. Differentiation is important as one knows.
"Given your urgent state, I would inquire quickly after the queen."
Random nods. "The queen is not in Xanadu, this I know. The most likely places will be searched by Corwin and Hannah and by myself with Brita and others to help. She'll turn up."
The King stands. "Call me if you need anything. Rescues are half-off for the rest of the day, should you need one." The trump contact closes.
Jerod puts away the card silently. "I will remember that uncle." he says quietly. "Assuming I need a body bag."
With that, he heads off to find Llewella. He has another message for her about Brita and Ossian, plus that he's looking for a message for Huon, one that might involve sharp pointy bits.
Llewella is in the throne room, discussing things with Jerod's former aide-de-camp, Drusus. He acknowledges Jerod's presence with a bow and Llewella turns. "Thank you, you may go," she says to him.
"What news from the surface?", she asks.
"You don't have to worry about Ossian and Brita running around down below anymore." Jerod says, nodding a response. "His majesty has them in hand. Though I am sure that whatever they may have been doing will no doubt still warrant investigation."
Llewella nods.
"Everyone else is busy with various things. Something is going on in Amber but as always people are cryptic. There is enough however to know it does not seem imminently critical, otherwise they would have been more forthcoming. Threats to survival are good for that. A dreadful pity we don't have more of them."
Llewella nods again, absently.
"His majesty has authorized me to bring Huon in, by force as needed, should the opportunity present itself. I had an idea to keep Huon busy with trumps, though Bleys had nothing of help as his jailer. Uncle Benedict has advised that I contact him later should combat become necessary." as he looks at his departing former aide."
[Llewella] nods a third time.
"Subject, of course, to the wishes of those in charge here. Should the current leadership seek a negotiation with Huon, no one is going to interfere with that, nor would I accept it from a surfacer. You indicated you had a message you might want delivered."
"He can't get what he needs. He can't get what he wants. What's his game, Jerod? Why is he still here?"
"I do not know." Jerod replies. "I would speculate he is waiting for something to happen that he has set in motion, or is waiting for someone to do something that he can respond to. He is another of the many things occuring all at once around us, forces in motion which have no apparent reason for their actions. But without further information, speculation is meaningless."
Llewella looks nonplussed. "What are our military options? Include the possibility of coordination with your cousin."
"His current position does not allow fortification, so a prolonged siege, despite the terror factor, is not in his favor." Jerod says. "He is deep in enemy territory, without access to Shadow resources that would provide him the ability to live from forage and acquire new troops to replace his losses. He is close to Rebma's Pattern so his sorcery, while it may continue to be of use, will be blunted. He is isolated from family and without the resources that we can call upon, subject of course to how much some are willing to bend their egos. He may have external allies we are unaware of, but again speculation is useless and we must act on the information we have. He must obtain his goal, whatever that is, by fast action, by keeping the initiative and keeping us off balance.
"Therefore, we must seize the initiative. I propose an assault of combined forces, sufficient to hold his flanks in position to repel our assault but also enough to prevent him from manuevering. Enough to keep them busy and unable to block our main attack, a small but precise and powerful force sufficient to breach his line and go directly after him. He is the key to their army. Call his bluff, deal with him and the threat is over."
She nods and looks down at the map on the table. "Yes. The feint needs to come from here, because we also need reserves to protect the City and the field army has no such need. Will you lead the sally or will you be joining Conner with the field army?"
"Which ever route gets me to Huon." Jerod replies. "We've wasted enough time with him. And I have a funeral to arrange that will not wait."
Llewella pulls a cloth off of a mirror on a stand and look at it. Shortly a vision of Khela and Conner appears. After a moment, Khela looks into the mirror and reaches into a pouch for a trump of Llewella. In the mirror, Jerod can watch both sides of the conversation.
[Feel free to join in, it's clear that Llewella expects you to.]
"I know," says Llewella, "we need to hit him quickly."
Jerod moves into touching range and enters the contact.
A human soldier comes up to Conner. "Sir, the Queen requires your presence. The enemy is moving."
Conner puts away Merlin's trump and sighs. Scrying for Vialle would have to wait for a quieter time. Conner had forgotten how annoying the hurry-up and wait routine of the soldier was. Diplomats get to wait in much better quarters for a start. "Take me to Her." Conner orders simply and swims off after the messenger.
Conner arrives at a the table that is the Queen's unofficial command center. On it is a bowl with a heavy, shiny liquid in it. The Queen and one of her sorcerous advisors are staring at it. There's a map next to it.
"Ah, Conner. What do you make of this?"
The map has a marking for the army and another for a watcher. In the mirror, the army of Prince Huon is on the move. It looks like they are coming towards Khela's position.
It's not what you expected, but it's not the worst choice he could make.
"Offhand, I would say that Jerod's negotiations have not gone well." Conner murmurs as he gazes into the mercurial scrying liquid. "Either Huon has determined that we are the primary threat between him and his goals or this is a feint designed to draw off forces from Rebma while he strikes at his true goal within the city." Conner looks the mirror images over carefully. "What intelligence do we have regarding the disposition of his forces? Is the entire army on the move? Are Huon and his major officers accounted for among his troops?"
"Sorcerously blocked, which gives rise to the suspicion that he has something to hide. On the other hand, anything he can do to drain our resources is a good idea. It might even be an action covering a retreat on his part, since he can always recruit another army.
"We need to answer him, and we need to fight. Ideally within sight of the city. It will simplify acceptance of my ascension."
It's not the best tactical idea Conner has ever heard, but it can be done, especially if the City troops can take advantage of his motion.
Conner smiles thinly. Go achieve the best outcome with a suboptimal plan. Ambassador Droit often asked such things of him too. The trick in these situations is to make it look easy while making sure those in charge understand how hard the task is. Moreover, the concerns had to voiced in such a way as to not undermine your superior and project absolute confidence in the success of the project.
"As a diplomat and propagandist, I concur with your plan. Majesty." Conner nods. "Seeing our victory with their own eyes would maximize the effect. However, you have employed me as your general and as such, I must point out that fighting in sight of the city is not the strongest tactical position available to us." Conner admits. "Positioning along these ridges would have been my first choice." Conner indicates the terrain on the maps. "It allows for cover and some misdirection regarding our numbers and disposition."
Conner lets his finger drift back to Khela's desired battleground. "To fight on the plains here would require committing more of our reserve troops and spreading the line thinly at the flanks for containment." Translation, I can do it but more people will die. Conner felt certain the military advisers would understand and he hoped Khela would as well. "However, with proper coordination with the troops in the city, achieving our military and political objectives is possible." Conner turns his eyes to the Queen for her reaction.
Khela nods. "A reserve force at the ridgeline, both to provide the semblance of fresh troops and the reality of it. A vanguard to slow them and a strike force to chew them up. The downside is that it will be hard to bottle them up. Still, our goal is to keep him from threatening Rebma. We don't have to destroy the army to do that.
"I--", she starts, glancing into the scrying bowl. There is an image of Jerod and Llewella in it. "Let's coordinate with the troops in the city, then, General Conner."
She pulls out a card and gestures to Conner. She stares at it for a period and then begins speaking.
[Conner is invited to the conference, join at will.]
"Mother, we were just discussing calling you, Huon's troops are moving."
Jerod enters into the contact moments later.
Conner joins the contact as well and nods to his aunt and cousin. "They appear to be taking a direct vector to our positions." Conner elaborates. "Whatever you said to Huon, cousin, it broke his inertia." Conner approves. "Now we intend to break his army and him with it. How stands the city?" Conner inquires.
Jerod will be waiting on Llewella for this, since she has been directing the troops since his departure.
In the interim, Jerod makes note of the nod and makes the barest of replies. His expression, never having been the friendliest of the family, seems different somehow. There is a hardness to his countenance now, not rigidity so much as focus perhaps.
Llewella smiles, but does not look happy. "Better if Huon is moving. The city does not like doing nothing. We should coordinate our actions."
Khela nods. "Yes, we should. General Conner, tell them our plans."
Conner nods in reply and moves toward the map table so that it should be visible through the card or the mirror work. "We intend to fight them on the clear seas here outside the the city proper." Conner removes a collapsable pointer from his pocket, extends it and traces out his plans in the sand of the map table. "A reserve force will be deployed along this ridge to give the appearance of it being fully manned with the intention of convincing Huon that meeting us on the plains would be more desirable. With Huon's forces in this position a force from the city should be able strike at his flanks here." Conner draws a line from Rebma and smacks the sand with his pointer where Huon's army should be. "With his forces split along the two fronts, we should have little difficulty in breaking through their lines and seeking out Huon." Conner turns back to the contact for their reaction.
Jerod remains silent, sifting the information, remembering old battles on Kolvir and in Shadow. He runs the scenarios, shifting forces in his head as he plays out overall strategy, and discovers that as the cost in lives of men and Triton are put into their respective columns of debit and credit, they do not mean as much to him as they once might have. Something has changed he realizes, making a note of it even as he declines to pursue the implications. Something that once mitigated his choices is missing it would seem. Once, perhaps even as recently as a few days ago, the lives of these men might have made him consider other options.
No longer.
"Given the ridge's strategic and tactical value, if we had possessed the troops to occupy it we would have already done so." Jerod says. "I do not believe he will be misled, nor will he grant it significant attention. The force should be instructed to act as an observation post only and prepared to withdraw under pressure as needed. Use second tier troops only."
Jerod does not bother mentioning that if Huon does attack from that direction, the troops will have little chance of effective action. They are a throw-away force, an asset to be discarded if no longer useful.
"The attacking forces need two elements. One to tie down his flanks and force him to engage, and the second manueverable, able to attack and raid at will to find the openings that are needed. Leave the Tritons for the latter. Use the massed formations only on the former."
"Assuming he is prepared, the Tritons will be the main focus against which he will defend. He has seen them in action once already. They are faster and more manueverable, and in an open area have a clear advantage. The troops that make first contact must be prepared to report back on any counter-measures Huon possesses, and equally importantly, any lack of measures. If he intends to take us on here, he'll be ready. If he is using his troops as a diversion to keep us occupied from his objective, that may become noticeable as well. Instead of being effective, they'll just be cannon-fodder, to be chewed up during the assault and wear down our front ranks. In that case, we must know immediately since we do not know his objective and must cover our bases."
"I would recommend two strike forces to breach through each engaged flank. He may have reserves behind his line to counter a penetration of his lines, but I doubt he would expect an attempt on two sides."
"Where is your green trinket going to be during all this?" Jerod asks Khela.
"I like your idea of two strike forces. I envision General Conner leading one and you leading the other, Duke Jerod. Mother anchors our defenses in Rebma and I have our reserves here. Do not discount the advantage of wizards on the heights. They are ineffective in close combat, but most valuable at a distance. Primarily they would be able to slow the enemy who, if he is attacking up the slope, will already at a disadvantage.
Llewella looks at the map. "If the force is small enough, we have magical means to extract them if they are in danger of being overrun. Huon won't try the ridge if it's even lightly defended. If he tried and got bogged down by magical means, he'd be ground up by two forces from behind and have no retreat."
Khela's eyebrows go up. "Can we entice him to do so? What if he sees me, with my 'green trinket' there?"
"Only if you can be portrayed through a glamour." Jerod replies flatly. "I had the opportunity to spar with him at his camp. Letting him get close to it is an unacceptable risk, and not just to Rebma."
"I concur." Conner nods. "Though it would be impossible to simulate the aura of the blade itself. We would be counting on a lack of magical or Pattern enhanced senses for the stratagem to work." Conner points out. "What did you learn about his style of fighting and thinking, Jerod? Anything we could turn to our advantage?"
"No." Jerod says. "He's a surfacer so his actions are rooted in air, but he's also one of us so he'll adapt quickly. We sparred enough to prove that he was of the blood, but the contest ended before I could test whether I was better than him. I sensed that he may have ended the session to prevent that from being revealed, but I could not be sure. In any event, he is confident in his mannerism. We will see if his confidence is warranted."
"On the topic of advantages, uncle Benedict has requested I speak to him prior to taking on Huon. He says he has a few pointers for me on how to finish this quickly. To further that end, I will be providing him with our tactical dispositions and general intentions. Any additional information would be useful."
"Of course." Conner agrees. If ever there was a time for free flow of information, this is it. Conner gives a detailed summary of the first clash of their forces with Huon's. Conner emphasizes two points. First is his opinion that the troops that could not adapt to underwater combat are likely dead from the initial Triton charge so that advantage is lessened. The second point is the sudden appearance of the giant sharks used to counter the Tritons. "According to the Tritons, they did not smell or act like normal sharks but we were unable to determine if they were magical constructs, summoned shadow beings, or shape shifted beings." Conner grimaces slightly at the last thought. In fact, Conner has not been smiling during most of his presentations.
Jerod's attention shifts, becoming even more focused, if that is possible, upon hearing something that Conner has said, though he does not interrupt.
Conner then dives into the details of his battle plan which largely relies on three dimensional tactics that Huon's forces should be slow to counter. "From our reports, we have Huon outnumbered and this close to Rebma it should prove difficult to bring any power to bear to shift that basic truth. My main concern is what his escape plan might be and how to counter it. We can outswim him if he flees and we can counter his magicks but if anyone is taking his Trump calls, there is not much to be done."
Remaining silent while he filters the pieces before him, Jerod thinks back to Paris and magick, a lifetime ago.
"If time permits, an experiment is needed." Jerod says. "We'll need Merlin for this. During a trip in Paris, during a conversation, I had the opportunity to get a sense of some sorcery he was working. It had a vague feeling, a taint to it that felt wrong. I would like to know if he could reproduce something similar. It might tell us if those sharks were magical constructs, or worse, if they were shadow forged, the way the Lords produce creatures for their needs. That would be an indication of external allies of which we are unaware."
"Oh, and tell Merlin I want my spear back. I'm going to need it shortly."
"When I was on the battlefield, I sensed nothing magical about their nature but as I was not specifically looking for such things I cannot be sure." Conner explained. "I showed Merlin a recreation of the battle but he was not able to offer any further insight. As for Merlin, he is currently unavailable for such experimentation. Corwin requested that he return to Paris and Merlin has done so. I do have his Trump however. When time permits, I will contact him and inquire about the spear." Conner pauses. "It may be possible that I could recreate this sorcerous taint you speak of." Conner offers. "We can speak of that later if you wish."
"Unless one of your parents was a Lord of Chaos, I'm not sure you will be able to re-create what I'm looking for. It is that taint of Chaos that I'm wondering about. It would explain a few things." Jerod says, more displeased that a family heirloom is not available than that the experiment cannot be conducted. A petty behaviour on his part, he thinks privately, but he's not really concerned whether that may be discerned by anyone.
"I would prefer to be wrong though. However, in the event that time permits, I would recommend trying whatever you think may be appropriate. I think you'll understand where my concerns might lie."
Khela raises a hand. "Thank you, my lords, but if Huon's forces are moving, we are pressed for time. Duke Jerod's plan is well-conceived, but Huon will have thought of it. He will not walk into such an uneven fight without a way to win or to extract himself. Either he has magic that he intends to use to counter us or he has a way to escape or move his army to a place more advantageous to himself and his goals.
"Our main advantage is communication and four family members. We've shown him some magic and he's shown some in response, but we have reserves in that area that I have kept under wraps. We not only have access to Triton might, but Triton magic as well." She smiles.
"I will defend the heights, using them as a platform for magery, but be prepared to leave with as many of my men as I can via trump if we are overwhelmed. Conner will lead the main body from my army here and either hit them head on or roll up their flank as he has described. Jerod will hit them from the flank or the rear with the second force from Rebma and tie them down and stretch them out. Mother will have the final force at the city, prepared to defend it against unexpected thrusts and to coordinate our actions.
"This will not be easy, for he is a Prince of Amber, and will acquit himself as one. We also have the lesson of the Vale of Garnath. I wish no death-curses upon Rebma."
"One would hope." Jerod says, remembering a comment made about Caine, and Brand. "If there is nothing further, Benedict awaits."
Conner nods his his head. "Nothing further from me."
The conversation continues with further tactical and resource discussion until everyone feels that they have all they need to act.
Once the trump call fades, Jerod removes his hand from Llewella's arm and nods to indicate his departure, remaining silent as he does so. His thoughts remain his own as he exits to find a private room, sufficient to allow him some reasonable sense of privacy.
Once there, he pulls out his deck, sifting out Benedict's card. As he does, he looks at the other cards, those used for the divinations and his expression darkens. He had thought once to read the cards to divine some intent about Huon, but now he realizes they are naught but useless. They did nothing for his sister, or his father. He will not follow that path.
Having picked out Benedict's card, he composes his thoughts. "Uncle. It is Jerod. We proceed against Huon shortly."
Benedict appears, and speaks tersely. "What is your situation, and what are your plans?"
If Jerod were in a mood conducive to philosophical musing, he might ponder the varying degrees of terseness that Benedict could acquire and the probability that he alone is the originator of this behaviour in Shadow.
But not today.
In response, Jerod is precise, laying out the details of the forces available, the location of Huon's troops and their approximate capabilities from intelligence reports plus what Jerod saw during his trip. He provides a technical summary of his meeting, including the sparring match, with Huon, though he does not go into details concerning the content of the conversations. He then includes details on Rebma's forces, the leaders commanding each force, and the city defenses. At the last, he includes a description of the overall attack strategy that has been proposed.
Benedict seems interested in the details of the plan and provides insightful comments, mostly about using the advantages of communication and Rebman familiarity with the seascape. He is also concerned about the disadvantage of bringing the fight down from the heights, but sees the advantage of the trade off. It's more of a risk, but more of a reward.
Jerod makes note of where Benedict brings up comments, storing them for future reference, in case an opportunity presents itself during the fight.
"Huon's movement is triggering our defensive response." Jerod says, finishing his comments. "He is setting the initiative by his movement and must have an end goal in mind, though that is not ascertained. He must believe himself to be ready and that means other forces may be at work we are unaware of.
"The goals of the others are not clear. Mine are. I want Huon removed from Rebma and his plan broken, preferably without a death curse. I will use whatever opportunities present themselves, or that can be forced, to achieve this."
"It's an interesting strategic exercise. For princes of the blood, armies are cheap; he can get another one in six months. So can you. The key here is to capture him or drive him off in a way that will keep him driven off. How do you intend to do that?"
"Slaughter works against lesser men, but he does not qualify in that category." Jerod says. "So destruction of his army is not the key goal, despite what Khela may have mentioned or intimated during our planning.
"It is my intention to bring the Guard forward and use it to penetrate his flank while Khela and her forces do their work. I will bring the entire Guard with me through the flank, using it to secure my own flanks while we are within Huon's formations and I seek him out. Rebma's defenders on the wall will be sufficient to handle any forays that Huon's outlying flankers might attempt while I am inside his perimeter. If the entire Guard is defeated because of this manuever, then Huon's forces are far stronger than anything we have anticipated and our attack would fail regardless. I am aware it is not part of the plan that was discussed with Khela, but as with all things no plan survives first contact with the enemy. Or family.
"Once I have brought Huon to battle, I will defeat him and transport him out by trump. Random has indicated he will take him, in chains. If his majesty is unavailable and I have to dump him on someone, will you take him, at least temporarily? Corwin is in Amber and will probably be travelling by the time the battle commences so he is not reliable. Huon cannot remain here. The family dynamics are not stable, and that's if he's not here."
"Khela wants to destroy the army because she has the immediate goal of proving to Rebma that she can and will defend the city and destroy armies that threaten it. Her ends are met even if Huon escapes. As long as she can enter in triumph, she'll meet her need. It might even serve her purpose if Huon escaped, because a continuing external threat is a powerful unifier."
Benedict nods, then reaches up and rubs the stump of his missing arm.
"Assume I did take your captive. What would you expect me to do if the Queen of Rebma requested that I give him to her? It is clearly Rebma against whom he has trespassed."
"There is an assumption that she would know you had him." Jerod replies. "No doubt if she turned her mind to it, she would eventually figure it out. By that time Huon would be dealt with.
"Even if she knew immediately, what the Queen wants and what the Queen gets are two very different things. Khela might have an army and a league of Tritons, she may have their magic and she may have a pattern sword. But getting the throne and keeping the throne are separate matters as we both know from recent history. Moire is still out there and she held the throne for a long time. I have my suspicions concerning Moire and would not discount her simply because of Khela's inconvenient appearance. In some respects, Khela may be to Moire, as Huon is to Khela. An irritant, to be dealt with.
"With regards to the Queen's requests, I would assume you would do with Huon as you see fit. I would expect nothing less and so long as he is out of the picture, it matters not. I have no doubt Khela will be displeased with me. She might even try to exact some price for my actions. She will find it a futile endeavour. The last lever that could have been used against me is now dead." Jerod says flatly.
Benedict nods. "I will take your prisoner, and do with him as I see fit. One of the questions we are frequently asked, when people find out that we are not of shadow, but different and more real is 'are you human?'. It's not as simple as you might think. Am I? I have lived a score of days for every one allotted to a human. I control the very nature of the universe and I control what they do. I have, over the course of years, answered that question many different ways.
"Today, I think my answer is 'yes', because I have people who care for me and for whom I care. I don't want to know if you are human, I've formed my own opinion of that. What I want is for you to decide if you are, and if you wish to be."
Jerod is silent, for what seems to be a long time within the trump contact. One watching from a distance might wonder if perhaps he had not heard the question, or perhaps he had not wanted to hear it. There seems no change in his expression, the flatness uncommon even for someone as precise in his dealing with Court as he was raised to be, the only movement the blinking of his eyes.
"One might wonder..." Jerod says finally, "...why you would be interested in asking such a question. My father would have had me analyze the question from a leadership position, to define how I might use it to motivate those around me. My mother would have me determine how it could best suit my position and advance my fortunes.
"My sister would have had me enamored to the fates and the helplessness of the future foretold and unchangeable. My uncles and aunts..." he offers, stopping for a moment. "Each would have me decide something, be something, choose something, but always it was from what they were looking for, what they wanted.", and he shakes his head. "To have the question asked from my perspective has not been recently done."
"So it is fortunate that I have already chosen to ignore the dictates of fathers and mothers, uncles, aunts and siblings in the choice of my future. I would answer that I am human, for it means that I am weak and vulnerable. To hatred and bitterness, to loss and mourning, regret and recrimination. And I accept those things that make me weak, for their counterparts make me strong and they last far longer than my weaknesses. Love and loyalty, pride and duty and even friendship, rare though it may be for one who is nearly immortal. By my choice I accept them and make them my own, for to do otherwise to set oneself upon the path of being a god, untouched by human frailties. And upon that path lies a doom."
Jerod straightens a little. "It is why I send Huon to you uncle. Because mercy makes me stronger, not weaker."
Benedict nods. "No path is free of dooms, save that of the blade of grass, and it has its own doom as well. The freedom you have chosen is a luxury you have, to avoid your responsibility to your liege lords. It is one I myself have taken more than once, with mixed results. It is evidence of the Chaos in our blood. The ways of the Courts are thus; it is assumed that if one does the will of another, one has no choice. It is why Lintra's line does not fit well in her own home.
"Have a care to only choose to ignore the dictates of Kings and Queens when it is worthwhile to do so. You cannot expect the protection and grace of society if you refuse its rules. You are strong enough to be outside the law most of the time, but not all."
Jerod does not answer, but he does not bother to respond with a qualification, for the dictates of Kings and Queens are only so, when they truly are Kings and Queens.
Benedict shifts. "You wonder why I asked that. It was a test of my understanding of you and where you stood and what you stood for. All such questions ultimately are."
"And what do you stand for uncle, and where do you stand?" Jerod asks.
"An interesting question, Jerod. Since you answered mine, I will answer yours. I stand for the continued existence of ordered reality and thus necessarily I stand with and for the Kings and Queens of the poles of Order we call patterns. Mine enemies are those who threaten them."
"And if the continued existence of ordered reality meant the death of those you loved?" Jerod asks, posing his last question. He asks knowing he is unlikely to receive an answer, but plainly it is also not a rhetorical question that he poses. He would know the answer if Benedict answered it, but he realizes instantly that he knows his own answer and to a greater degree than he would have suspected, he is satisfied by it.
A suitable pause will no doubt ensue, at which time Jerod continues.
Just before Jerod is about to reply, Benedict breaks his silence. "What makes you think it hasn't?"
Jerod does not reply, though Benedict's response does in fact confirm his original opinion of his uncle, with a faint hint of regret with regards to the answer. That Benedict replied is a surprise, though the question was perhaps more for Benedict's understanding of Jerod's perspective than the reverse.
"The war beckons uncle, and I have wayward family to bring home. Until later?"
Benedict nods and closes the contact.
Last modified: 11 April 2009