Once out of the room and in the corridor Vere moves rapidly. "Carina," he says as he walks briskly through the halls of the castle. "Is there anything here that you absolutely cannot do without? I worry that time may be of importance here. And do you have a way to contact Jerod? If not, then stay with me, and I will have you in touch with him as soon as it is possible."
Carina shakes her head. "No, I don't. But you have my eternal gratitude for your protection."
Vere nods, but says nothing in response for the moment.
Assuming that the answer is negative, he will head downstairs rapidly, seeking an office of the castle guard who can provide them with the motorcycles that he was promised.
[If Carina insists that there is something of life-threatening importance that she needs to do before they leave Vere will listen to her, and the rest of this may be moot.)
[Carina is anxious enough to get out of here that she's not worrying about anything not on her person.]
Two motorcycles with sidecars will be sufficient. Vere will sit in the sidecar of the lead motorcycle, watching and analysing the way the driver controls it. He gives the driver directions as they proceed, and brings them through the neighboring shadows to his waiting people as quickly as possible.
There's hardly a shadow transition between Paris and Le Havre; more like what Vere imagines from the description it was like in the old days of Amber to ride down off Kolvir away from the city. There's a point where he could shift into Shadow, but he doesn't have to to get where he's going.
He arrives at camp and is greeted at once by a sentry. Once the formalities of passwords and bona fides are dealt with, Vere arrives at his command tent to find his commanders assembled.
Captain Aurelius says, "What news, and what orders, Commander?"
Vere nods to Aurelius, but does not answer him immediately. He settles Carina into a chair at his table, then sits himself, and gestures for his commanders to sit as well. "Many of you know the Archivist," he says. "I will explain her presence momentarily. First, I wish to know if any of you have received any communications from anyone?"
The men seat themselves at Vere's command. They are clearly curious about Carina's presence, bit restrain themselves from asking questions.
Aurelius shakes his head. "Not until you arrived, Lord Vere."
Vere gazes around at his commanders, looking for any subtle signs of guilt that might indicate someone was withholding information from him.
He sees none.
Then he speaks.
"I bear grave news. The throne of Rebma has changed hands, and Moire has fled the city. I do not have all the details, but it appears to be a matter of dynastic struggle within the royal family, not a matter of an external enemy." He pauses to give them a chance to exclaim over this information, again watching carefully for any signs that might indicate this is not a surprise to any of them. Ignoring any questions, he continues after a few moments.
This is shocking to all of them and there are questions and exclamations, which die down as Vere continues.
"Moire fled Rebma for Paris. Some of you might have heard rumors that King Corwin was once her lover. This is true, and it appears that she sought refuge with him." Vere pauses once more, then allows a grimace of distaste to briefly flit across his face. "It may be, as some said, that she wished Corwin to provide her with troops and additional magical support, to enable her to retake the throne. How she would have been regarded, attacking Rebma with foreign troops, I cannot say. As it happened, she had no chance to make such a request. Corwin was temporarily away from Paris, and while she awaited his return Moire allowed her temper to overcome her, and she slew one of Corwin's nephews, Lucas, the son of Princess Florimel. Rather than face Corwin's judgement, she once more fled."
Vere raises a hand to forestall questions. "Until this matter is resolved, I will not involve the Children of Lyr, nor the people of the Isles, in the internal affairs of Rebma. Your orders are to remain here, to prepare defenses in case of attack, and to see to the security of the refugees. I will be immediately returning to Paris, to await Corwin's return. Once he has returned I will consult with him, and my sister, as to the eventual fate of the refugees. It may well be that they will end up settling in Paris, rather than continuing on to Rebma."
He leans forward and says, "I will also seek information on the current situation in Rebma. And I fully expect to be leading the Children of Lyr back to Rebma in the immediate future."
He settles himself back in his chair once more.
"Questions, my captains?"
Octavius, who has gone pale during this speech, speaks up. "Who rules in Rebma now? Or do you know?"
Domitian asks, "What of the other princesses of Rebma?"
Vere smiles slightly. "And we now come to the reason for the presence of the Archivist. While I was given some news of the current situation in Rebma, the sources of that information must be considered involved in these affairs, and their information possibly slanted." He turns to Carina. "Archivist," he says, "You are a source of information we can trust, and you are trained to observe and relate information and events completely and without bias. Can you tell us, to the best of your knowledge, how Moire's flight from Rebma came about, and who now holds the throne? And, as well, if you know what became of the embassy that the Isles sent to Moire by way of Corwin? The ambassador was named E'ensong, and the second in command of the Children of Lyr, Captain Castor of the Coldstream Guards, returned with her and her assistants as guide and guard. But we have heard nothing of them since they left Paris for Rebma, some time before Moire's overthrow."
"I will answer your questions in order," Carina says. "I do not know who rules in Rebma now, of course, but Moire left Princess Llewella in charge. And there were two armies in the field against each other, and against Moire, as I understood things. The first served Huon, formerly of Amber. The second served Khela."
There are audible gasps at the table about that last name.
Vere looks around the table. "We shall discuss this once the Archivist has finished her report," he says calmly. He nods to Carina, "Continue, please," he tells her.
"Moire left Llewella with the Regency when it seemed to her that Khela was likely to join forces with Huon to take the city. She brought Rilsa and myself with her to Corwin, to seek his assistance in regaining her throne," Carina continues.
This news elicits more gasps, but the men do not interrupt.
"As for the embassy, I know it arrived and that Castor and E'ensong had an audience with Moire, but in the rush of the preparations for the army, I cannot say what happened to them. As an ambassador, E'ensong should receive a safe conduct from Khela if she rules; but if Huon conquered, I cannot say." Carina stops at this point to see whether Vere has further questions.
Vere looks around the table at his captains, his gaze perhaps resting a trifle longer on Captains Thresu and Octavius. He observes mildly, "While I have heard her name before it seems that Khela's name inspires some emotion among you. Tell me of her."
Carina remains silent while the men look around to see who will choose to speak.
Finally, Octavius speaks up. "Have you seen the Tritons?"
Vere nods. He waits silently.
"Khela would free them." Octavius says this as though it should have some particular meaning for Vere.
Vere examines the faces of his commanders, without appearing to do so, judging which of them unhesitantly side with Octavius' strong feelings on this matter, which of them, if any, are not quite so sure, and which of them give themselves away as being on the opposite side of the question, or else are struggling to maintain expressions which do not give away their true feelings.
After a moment he says, "Ah, of course. And this would be why the Countess of the Western Shallows had the Baroness Cornelia murdered, and her death made a pretext to discredit and exile Khela. Thank you for clarifying that for me, Captain Octavius. No doubt this murder and the resulting political upheavals are one of the reasons for Khela to have taken arms, rather than attempting further diplomatic efforts in her cause." He nods, as though things are now falling into place.
He pauses then, interested in the reactions to this bit of information.
The table breaks into general hubbub as some of the officers agree with Vere's statement and others are shocked at his misrepresentation of the situation. Vere rapidly sees that he'll have to act to get them to stop arguing.
Vere gives them a few moments to work themselves up, sitting quietly and without expression.
And then, so suddenly that few if any of them even see him move, he is standing, and his hand slaps down on the table with his full might, cupped so that the sound of the strike is even louder than it would be from his Amberite strength alone.
"SILENCE!"
From a commander whom they have never once seen lose his temper or raise his voice, the shout is shocking. Vere gives them no chance to recover from that shock, immediately beginning to speak.
"Are you children? Unable to discuss matters rationally? Reduced to shouting and arguing to carry your viewpoints? I am disappointed, gentlemen, sadly disappointed. These are matters of politics and governance, and you should be wise enough in the way of the world to know that means unsavory acts done for the good of the state. Arguing over the past does nothing to alleviate the crises of the present or the dangers of the future."
His gaze sweeps them, his face stern and unforgiving. "What occurred in the stronghold of the palace of Rebma is now known only to the dead, and to those who ordered and carried out the deed, whomever they may be. What concerns me is that these matters infect my staff, causing them to forget their brotherhood and argue amongst themselves. I will not have the civil war in Rebma replicated amongst the Children of Lyr. Need I remind you of your oaths to me and to each other? Need I remind you that you are bound, by oath to the Throne of Rebma, not to bear arms in Rebma until your are released from the Children? There will be no marching on the city, to aid any faction, and there will be no dissension among us. Am I clear?"
His eyes meet the eyes of each of them in turn. "Am I?"
There's a lot of hemming and hawing, but they do all agree. Vere can sense that the presence of the Archivist is a factor in their agreement: not that they would go against their oaths, but it is more powerful to be reminded of the oath in her presence.
Perhaps surprisingly, it is Thresu who speaks up. "Will you have us renew our oaths, then?"
Vere sits once more, and shakes his head. "Nay. I am not one who believes in the retaking of oath. A man's word is good, or it is not. Ceremonies of reaffirmation of an oath are empty show intended as a political statement, nothing more, and I would not have it among men whom I trust."
He looks to the Archivist. "Is there anything more, or have you told us all?"
"I am the Archivist, Lord Vere. I can never truly say I have told you all. Is there anything else specific you would know?" This, it seems to Vere, is a sincere answer.
The men seem to approve of it, and of Carina.
Vere nods and smiles in response to her statement. "Well said," he approves, "And my apologies for such an open-ended question. No, unless there is some piece of vital information that you think I need, I believe we have enough for a preliminary discussion. Unfortunately, time presses too greatly to take the leisure to fully analyze the personalities and motivations involved in this situation."
He turns back to his men. "I must return to the city of Paris immediately, to discuss these matters more fully with my sister and her fellow rulers, and to await King Corwin's return, when I hope to learn more of the situation. But I wanted you all fully appraised of the situation, and warned that it is possible that some of you may be contacted by one or more of the competing factions in this complicated matter. Keep each other's counsel, and report any such contacts immediately to your fellow commanders, and send messengers to the city to find me and report immediately should you be so contacted. Feel free to inform anyone who contacts you that you will be doing so, I am not asking you to spy upon anyone who contacts you, merely to make it clear to them that the Children of Lyr will not be lured into taking sides in this matter until we have had a chance to truly understand it.
"Now, then, gentlemen. Are there any questions or matters that remain to be discussed?"
"How long do you expect to be gone, Commander?" Octavius asks.
"A matter of days at the very most," Vere answers. "If I must be longer than that, I will send word. In the meantime, keep a watchful eye. As soon as we have finished this meeting I will ask that you send Lord Commanders Siege and Hartwell to me, so that I may inform them of the situation. I wished to speak with you first, gentlemen, in private, due to your ties to Rebma. As soon as I have discussed the situation with them, I will be leaving for Paris once again."
"Very well, Commander. By your leave?" He rises, and the Children take that as a signal to do the same.
Vere nods to them, then rises himself. "Gentlemen," he says. It is a dismissal.
Carina looks to Vere to see whether she should go with them.
Vere gesture's for her to remain.
He waits until they are gone, then turns to Carina. "My sister's Lord Commanders will be here soon, Archivist, and I would have you stay for that meeting as well, in case they have questions of Rebma and her queen that I cannot answer. But before they come, I would ask where you would prefer to go when I return to Paris. I do not have a way to contact Jerod directly. I need to speak to my father, and I will ask if he knows where Jerod is, but it is unlikely that he will have immediate access to him either. I could, however, send you through to Xanadu, if you wish, where there is a greater chance that someone will be able to see you safely to him quickly. It would be swimming into a school of barracuda, however, as you well know. If you remain with me I will do what I can to protect you, but I do not know that my personal guarantees will be of any value should King Corwin or another of my elder relatives take it into their heads that you have important information, or might prove a valuable piece in their games."
He stops then, and regards her calmly.
"It would be best if I could speak with Jerod, since the situation in Rebma is unknown and any action I take may have political consequences. But who of your family is in Xanadu? King Random's disposition toward Rebma is not assumed to be favorable," Carina points out in her most neutral voice.
"I do not know who is there currently," Vere answers, "Other than my father and the King. The Royal Family is ... somewhat unpredictable. As soon as I have spoken with the Lords Commander, and we are private once more, I will contact my father, and I can ask him then who else is resident. After that, I will be returning to Rebma. You have four choices, that I see. You can go to Xanadu. You can return to Rebma with me, remaining under my protection. You can stay here, with the Children of Lyr. Or you can set out on your own."
"I will take my chances in Xanadu," Carina says after a moment.
Vere can tell by her decision that she thinks the situation is dire, both in Rebma and, potentially, within the Children.
Vere nods, and does not comment upon what she is not saying. He walks to the door of the tent and looks out to see if Siege and Hartwell are approaching.
Siege is coming. Hartwell is running a bit behind.
Vere steps out of the tent and nods a greeting to Siege. When he's close enough for Vere to speak so softly that no one can overhear he will ask, "Is there anything you need to tell my privately?"
Siege shakes his head subtly. "All is well enough," he says in a low voice. "Or as well as can be expected."
Vere nods fractionally in response.
If Siege doesn't have anything of import Vere will wait until Hartwell joins them, then gesture them both into the tent. "Lady Archivist, may I present Siege and Hartwell, the Lords Commander of the Brotherhood of the Stag. The Brotherhood is the preeminent military order of my homeland. My friends, this is the Archivist Carina, Royal Historian of Rebma."
Once they have greeted each other he motions for Siege and Hartwell to sit, then does so himself. "Avis and the others are safely in the city of Paris," he tells them. "But there are, of course, complications that require a brief halt to our travels. Before I explain them, tell me the situation here."
It's Hartwell who speaks up. "The local populace is afraid of us. When they saw us arrive, they sent for help. There's been no attack force forthcoming, which I take it has to do with the relative success of your mission."
Hartwell is eyeing Carina in a way that would probably annoy Jerod if he could see it.
Siege adds, "The land's good here. People like it. Some of the women are looking around and wondering if they can't find some places where there are no daughters to inherit and marry in."
"Do not discourage them," Vere says. "It may well be, with the king's permission, than some portion of our people, and I hope a larger portion of the people of the Witch Queens and King Bran, may decide to settle here." He smiles slightly. "They will find the inheritance customs somewhat different to what they are used. But I think an influx of matriarchy will do Corwin's realm no harm." He glances at Carina, the smile still on his lips, then turns back to Siege and Hartwell. "Encourage friendly relations with the locals as much as you can over the coming days. And encourage our people to treat them as potential neighbours."
Siege nods, and Hartwell, whose ambitions have always been a bit unseemly for a man, gives a nod as he considers that.
The smile fades. "Is there anything else I should know before I tell you of what I learned in the city of Paris?"
Siege shakes his head. "We've maintained good order; there's been no quarrelling or drinking to excess."
"Nor," Hartwell adds, "are the ecclesiastical debates of the priestesses too serious, without the Lady to answer them."
"Let us hope it remains so," Vere says. "The situation in Rebma is... somewhat too familiar. A civil war has erupted, spurred on by Huon's arrival with his own army. Queen Moire of Rebma, who granted us leave to recruit the Children of Lyr from among her subjects, fled to Paris. It is believe this was to either use Paris as a base to retake her city, once Huon and her rival for power had weakened one another, or else to seek aid from King Corwin in retaking her throne. Or, perhaps, both. For see you, Corwin and Moire were lovers in time past. Indeed, they had a daughter, Celina.
"Now, Moire's efforts were complicated in that Corwin has appointed that daughter regent, while he was called away on grave matters. And between Princess Celina and her mother there is little love and less trust.
"The Lady and her allies found good welcome in Paris, but the Princess took my sister and myself aside, and told us that our cousin, the Lord Lucas, had been but recently found slain, and his mother, the sister of the king, was most wroth, and blamed Moire. Celina was inclined to agree, but wished to seek justice. My sister and I aided the Princess Regent in her investigations, and proved that, indeed, Queen Moire had killed Lord Lucas in anger, finding that he was spying upon her."
Vere grows grave, and glances at Carina, then looks back at the two men. "I suspect, though we did not discuss this, that Lucas was spying upon the Queen at the request of her daughter. Thus, you can see, the Princess takes this most personally.
"Now, when we came to the quarters that the Queen had been given, we found she had fled from them as well. To where she has gone, none know. Perhaps she waits in Paris, for King Corwin to return, to put her case to him. Or perhaps she has gone on, seeking other resources."
Vere leans forward. "And now, we come to the crux. For here we are, camped with a large force, among which are some of the most puissant warriors of Rebma. Their mothers and sisters are nobles of Rebma, and will fall out among differing factions in the civil war. And the men, well, as you can understand, their loyalties will be with their families. And many of them are, or employ, sorceresses, with a specialty of scrying and communicating via mirrors. Now, I have reminded the men that Moire bound the Children not to bear arms in Rebma, as one of the conditions of her approval that I recruit such a force, so that they could not be turned against Rebma. The men are thus bound by oath, that until I release them from my service, they may not fight in Rebma. One hopes, naturally, that their honour will hold them to this oath, and that they will recall their oaths to one another, and the brotherhood they have shared, and neither depart without leave nor fall out among themselves."
He shrugs. "But in times of civil war, oaths and honour can be slippery things, as we have all too good a cause to know. So while we must not dishonour our good companions and allies by showing any distrust of them, so also must we be aware that fate may force them to act against our best interests."
He shakes his head. "Or not," he says wryly. "For I tell you true, I have no horse in this race, and care not a jot who sits the throne of Rebma, only that our people may find a home, and not be embroiled in yet another war."
He sits back once again. "You will have questions, now," he tells them. "The Archivist and I will answer them, as best we can."
Siege takes all this in and is slowly absorbing it. He's no fool, but he's not always swift to make a decision, nor ask for guidance from the priestesses or other women. First he'll need to chew on it a bit.
Hartwell's not so slow. "What does that mean for the settlement prospects of our people? Because it seems to me that the first thing to happen will be our men being dragged into the wars of the Rebman women. And if a Rebman princess is princess in Paris, too, it might go hard with us if we try to stay out of it by remaining here."
Vere nods at Hartwell's perceptive question. "It means the settlement is in question. I do not wish to bring our people so far, and abandon our own world, only to be drawn into the wars of others. Which is why I am returning to Paris immediately after this conversation. I wish to await the return of my uncle, King Corwin, and discuss these matters with him. He will know more of the situation in Rebma, and I can also put to him the possibility that a larger contingent of our people remain here in Paris." He pauses, then says carefully, "The decision of the Lady will, of course, be of the utmost importance in what we do. Which is another reason for me to hurry back to Paris, I hope to be there when the Lady and King Corwin first meet."
"Where will we serve best?" Siege asks. "It seems to me we'd do best here, ready in case there's trouble among the Children. And what about this lady?" He gestures, not without reverence, at the Archivist.
It is Hartwell who's got a considering look on his face now.
"The Archivist will be leaving upon her own business," Vere answers. "Via the magic of my family."
"As for the two of you, I want you both here." He says this very definitely. "To watch the Children, but also to soothe the relations amongst our various peoples, and between our people and the locals. As well, there is still the possibility of Huon or one of the factions of Rebma making an attack on Paris, and if our people are in the way of such an attack I want men of your skill in charge of defense."
He leans forward once more. "Now, I have told the Children of what has happened in Rebma, as I did not want their first such information to come from their relatives." He grimaces. "That assumes they were all honest with me, and none have yet been so contacted. However, I have not spoken with any of the priestess, sorceresses, or witch-queens, and I do not plan to do so before I leave again. They will be annoyed, but they will also worry over what that lapse on my part my portend. They are also no doubt all currently worried by the fact that their magics are, at best, weak and unreliable, and may very probably not be working at all."
He smiles. "My suspicion is that most of them are keeping that fact secret, and are carefully watching one other to see whether their potential rivals are similarly affected. This may well be the reason for their current appearance of reasonableness. Once they learn I was here, and have left again, they will approach you for information. A bare outline of the facts is enough for them, I think. Give them something to think upon, but not so much that they begin making their own plans. Be ignorant men, who do not know the subtleties of the situation. Play politics."
Siege gives Vere his best "dumb male" look, which is pretty dumb.
Hartwell nods, but he'll have a harder time not showing off his ladylike intelligence. "And if something happens, how do we let you know?"
"We came with two of King Corwin's couriers," Vere answers. "Upon their steeds of metal and fire. With one I shall return, the other I shall leave here with instructions to act as your messenger in the event of an emergency. Once I speak with the king I shall see about setting up a more regular round of messengers."
Hartwell frowns; something about the answer doesn't please him.
He pauses, then says, "I believe we have covered everything of urgent import, and there is insufficient time to cover the many events of lesser significance at this time. Unless either of you has something else...?"
Siege shakes his head in the negative. "Keep an eye on the priestesses and answer--or not--their questions, and send for you if there's an emergency."
"And if there is an emergency, then at least the lines of authority are clear," Hartwell adds. Vere intuits that he expects something to go wrong sooner rather than later.
Carina continues to remain silent, not interfering with Vere's rule over his men.
Vere stands, and waits for Siege and Hartwell to stand as well. Then, rather than dismissing them immediately, he asks, "Did you have a concern, Hartwell?"
Hartwell frowns slightly and shakes his head. "If the command were mine, we'd bring the men closer to Paris. But you're our warleader." He seems resigned to that fact.
Vere nods. "A thought," he says. "But closer to Paris means closer to Rebma, as well. Let us leave that for later."
He walks to them and rests his hands on their shoulders. "The Goddess is with you, my brothers," he says. "She told me before we began the exodus that She would travel with our people." He grips their shoulders tightly for a moment, then releases them and steps back.
"And now," he says, "Magic will be done. You two should leave."
Siege leaves at once. Hartwell, Vere can see, is curious and probably a touch envious of the magic, but he leaves with Siege.
Once they are safely out of the tent, Carina speaks. "I am ready to leave. I think remaining here much longer would be unwise on my part, Prince Vere."
Vere produces his father's trump, but holds it face down for the moment. "I would appreciate you opinions and comments on the situation, Carina. As a friend, not as an official of Rebma."
She takes some time to formulate her words. "As a friend, and as a close observer of Rebma, I would be very wary in your position. You command a resource that the Queen could make great use of. It will be hard for your men to hold the loyalty of Rebmans if the Queen sends an agent here--and she has agents in Paris. As for your men, they will consider their loyalties, which are those of their wives and sisters. There are ancient divides at work here. There were Rebmans who lost a great deal over the Libertists and Khela. Some of their descendants are among the Children of Lir."
Carina pauses there to let Vere speak, if he will.
Vere smiles thinly. "It is even worse than you think. The refugees from my homeland are composed of peoples from several different nations, which were until mere days ago at war one with the other. And my mother's people were in a civil war on both sides of that war, both for and against our ancestral foe. Who, I have only recently discovered, are in actuality from the same stock as our folk, the result of another old civil war."
He shakes his head. "This is all complicated by the fact that I have oaths and duties that make it impossible for me to stay with them longer than it takes to get them settled somewhere." He hesitates, searching her face, and then says, "To be perfectly frank, and to admit to something that I suspect I will never repeat, I think it might be good for them if they do split into multiple factions, so long as they can be prevented from warring on one another. There are too many of them now to be easily assimilated. And I suspect that such assimilation, whether in Rebma, here in Paris, or even in Xanadu, would ultimately be for the best."
"It doesn't upset you that your people will lose something of themselves if they remain in Paris or go to Rebma?" Carina sounds a bit surprised.
Vere smiles once more. "I spent much of my life rebelling against the strictures of the society into which I was born," he answers. "When I came into my inheritance as a child of Amber, I realized that I had the power to totally remake that society. And yet, I wondered, had I the right to do so? I have not resolved that question as of yet. But in my search for a resolution, I have come to understand that a people, a world, must grow and change, just as an individual must. Else they stagnate, in a living death. They will lose something, but they will gain something as well, in their new homes. If they separate, and follow different paths, but yet remain in contact, as I hope, then perhaps the many different ways they grow ill reveal new strengths, new possibilities, for all of them."
Carina nods. "Swim or die. You're wiser than many men, Vere of the Isles. But the heirs of Amber sometimes take a longer view."
Vere nods hid head in acknowledgement of the compliment. "Some day," he says, "When things are more settled, I should greatly enjoy sitting with you and Jerod in a comfortable tavern somewhere, discussing history, society, and the art of the possible. For now, however, before I become totally distracted by your conversation, let me drag myself back to practicality. We need to get you away from here, ere someone comes searching for you."
He turns Gerard's trump to face him, and holds it before him. "Father," he says, "It is Vere."
The contact comes in relatively quickly. "Aye, Vere, what word?" Gerard appears to still be in Xanadu, from the look of things.
"I am just outside Paris, Father," Vere answers. "Where Moire, fled from Rebma due to civil unrest and invasion, has murdered Lucas and gone into hiding. Carina, Archivist of Rebma, is with me, and due to the friendship I bear to Jerod I would see her safely away from here. Might I send her through to you, before we discuss other matters?"
The announcement of Lucas's death doesn't seem like a terrible surprise to Gerard, which suggests to Vere that someone has already spread the news to Xanadu. "Aye, do so. I'll help make sure she gets safely to Jerod."
Vere passes Carina through, telling her, "Fare well, Archivist," as she departs in a sparking rainbow.
Carina steps through the connection, and then Vere feels her withdraw as she releases Gerard's hand on the other side. Once she's free, Gerard says, "I have news for ye also, about yer sister, when we finish speaking o' events in Paris. Tell me what's passed from your view; I trust it better than the third-hand stories I have so far."
Vere nods. "Most of what I have heard is secondhand, Father. Celina, the daughter of Corwin and Moire, reigns as regent in Paris until Corwin returns, and she is at odds with her mother. It is clear that Moire did indeed slay Lucas, who was creating a trump of her at the time, quite clearly without her consent. It might be that Celina had instructed Lucas to create the trump, although I have no evidence one way or the other upon that matter. I have been told that Huon has led an attack on Paris, and that the rebels are either joined with him to conquer Rebma, or else are joined with Rebma to defeat him. I would put no faith in either story without corroboration. That Moire sought out Corwin indicates that she believes he still has an attachment to her, and I would not predict how the King will react when he returns, whether he will side with his daughter or her mother."
Gerard sighs. "Corwin is back in Paris now. He's spoken with Random, so there's to be some joint thinking on how the matter of Moire goes, when and if they lay hands on her. Huon hae been defeated, but he has escaped, and none know where he went. It seems that Khela reigns in Rebma. This is the last I have through Random and Caine."
There's probably a lot more to those stories than that, but Gerard doesn't seem ready at the moment to tell it.
Nor does Vere press for information. He nods, thoughtfully, and says, "I need to return to Paris as quickly as possible, then. I want to be there to mediate between Corwin and Avis. Or at least to observe their meeting..." he allows himself a small smile. Then it passes and he continues, "Father, I hope you will agree with me in this. I think it important to settle the people of the Isles, along with the folk of the Witch Queens and the followers of King Bran, as quickly as possible, and to avoid entangling them in yet another civil war. To that end, I wish to see how my sister and the other leaders get along with Corwin,and whether it might make sense to settle them here, in Paris, rather than take them to Rebma. Or, if it seems best to split them, perhaps even escort some of them to Xanadu?" He ends on a questioning note, waiting for his father's opinion.
Gerard nods. "The folk o'the Isles have enough to divide them. I dinnae think it wise to involve them in the Rebman war more than they already are. They'll have a time adjusting to Paris or Xanadu, but better that than dying. What about the Children of Lir?"
"I have informed them of the situation in Rebma, so that they know of it before they are contacted by their mothers, sisters, or agents of Queen Moire," Vere answers. "And I have reminded them of their oaths, and advised them to avoid entanglements while still under oath to myself and each other. They will be subject to divided loyalties once they are contacted, of course, but I hope to minimize the possibility that they will be used by any faction in the immediate future. Once I have settled the refugees from the Isles I hope to return the Children to Rebma, disband them, and allow them to return to their families, and their assorted roles in whatever may come. This seems the wisest course to me. Have I overlooked any aspect of the situation that you can see?"
"Nae, it's what I'd do: get shed of them as soon as I could, before they drag the women of the Isles into their quarrels." Gerard sounds disquieted at that thought. "Is their aught else you need to tell me before I give you my news?"
"Nae, fither," Vere answers, his eyes narrowing slightly at the way Gerard phrased that question. "What news?"
"Yer sister wants me to come to Amber. She has some idea of making peace between the two of us. Since I'm nae sure how we got where we are, I've no idea how to change it." Gerard shakes his head. "But if she reckons I'll lift the ban on her returning to Xanadu, it's in Random's hands now. And if she's rude to yer mam, or about her, I'll nae have that either."
"Nor should you," Vere agrees. "Mother does not deserve rudeness." He is silent for a moment, then adds, "Solange is jealous, Father. She may not realize that. Having learned that she is not the daughter of your blood, she fears losing the relationship you have. The foundations of her world have been shaken, and she is unsure of her position, and I think at a loss as to what to do about it. Again, if she even realizes exactly why she is at such loose ends. She is not given to deep introspection. She prefers action, and sometimes does not think things through before acting. It is not unknown in our branch of the family."
"If she fears losing my regard, despite toward yer ma is no way to stop it." Gerard's chin is set in a familiar way. "I love yer sister, but she's acting more a child now than she did when she was a girl. If she wants peace in the house, she has to stop throwing tantrums.
"And none of this addresses the banishment, which isna mine to lift now that the king has returned. And then there's Corwin, which might make yer own business in Paris harder."
"Indeed?" Vere asks. "How so?"
"You know about her hard words with Corwin, I reckon?" The question seems to be rhetorical because Gerard continues without leaving a space to answer. "He's likely not to think on it if you don't bring it up, but if he asks you about the floating woman, tell him what you know."
Vere nods in acceptance. "I will, Father. Most like I would have, in any case, as the fact that I saw her on the stairs between Paris and Rebma could be construed to make her a security issue for Corwin's kingdom." He tilts his head, then, and asks, "To move to a different, and more personal, subject, have you any recent news of Robin?"
"Aye, she was in Amber but she's supposed to be on her way here," Gerard replies. "There were too many in Amber after the--wait, d'ye know about Huon's assault on Rebma?"
"I knew that he was besieging it, and that there was a civil uprising at the same time," Vere answers. "But none yet knew the outcome of it, or what alliances may have occurred betwixt the three points of this martial triangle."
"Khela allied with Llewella--not surprising, I reckon--and so Jerod and Conner and Khela led the armies of Rebmans and tritons against Huon. They won, but Huon got away. There's a longer story than that, but that's the gist of it. None of ours died, but the cost in lives, in Rebmans and invaders, was terrible." Gerard's distress is palpable in the trump connection.
"Whether Khela can parlay this into Queenship I cannae say, though."
"Nor shall I allow myself to be involved in that struggle," Vere replies. "Too many in Amber, you said. How do you mean?"
"It's bad for too many of the blood to gather in one place. Amber was always different, but now, after the Sundering, it seems Caine has decided to enforce the old rules, or perhaps Random told him to enforce them." Gerard shrugs.
"Is there a message you'd send to your mother, or your sister?"
"Give them my love, and tell both of them that I hope to see them soon." Vere cocks his head to one side and thinks for a moment, then says, "I considered sending Mother some word on how things go for Avis and the folk of the Isles, but upon reflection I think it best to leave that for now. There is no point in reminding her needlessly of the position she no longer holds. How does she fare?"
Gerard nods his agreement with the idea that they shouldn't disturb Corvis with the news from the transit. "Well enow. With Vialle gone for a time and now resting, she's taken up some of the household duties that Vialle might hae done. Or," and he shakes his head, sorrow coming through the connection very clearly, "Cambina." Moving on from that unpleasant thought, he says, "Her body may be weak, but her mind's as sharp as ever."
"Duty is good for her," Vere nods his agreement, in and echo of his father's gesture. "Duty and purpose." He sighs very slightly. "I had hoped that being with you once more, and being in close proximity to the Pattern, might aid in her recovery. I take it that is not the case?"
Gerard shakes his head in the negative. "We've na seen signs of such yet, but we've been a wee bit busy here. At least I dinna think she's getting worse."
"That is far better than she was doing in the Isles," Vere notes. "Her condition was steadily worsening there." He straightens, and gives a definite nod of his head. "Well enou. Is there anything else we need to discuss, Father? I want to get away from camp and back to Paris before my sister's priestesses learn I have returned and descend upon me to demand to know why I have not reported to them. Best I not be forced to play the God card too frequently."
"Then ye should go on. Call me again if ye have more news, and take care."
"Fare well, Father." Vere passes a hand over the card, then turns it over and slips it back into his clothes.
Then he rises quickly, and slips out a slit in the back of the tent rather than leaving via the main entrance. He moves quickly, but not so quickly as to draw unwanted attention, towards where the two bikes and there riders were left.
Once back to the bikes Vere tells the junior of the two men, "You are to remain here, to act as emergency communication between this camp and the palace. The two Lords Commander, Siege and Hartwell, are the only ones authorized to give you orders. Remain here unless one of them has a message for you to take to the palace, or your relief arrives. Understood?"
Once the man acknowledges the order Vere gestures the other man to take a seat in the side car, and he mounts the motorcycle. He allows himself a small smile as he settles onto the seat, and quickly goes over in his mind everything he observed about how the machine was started and controlled.
And then he fires it up, and heads toward Paris.
It takes him two tries to start the thing properly, and if he didn't have the sidecar, Vere might have to worry about his balance. As things stand, the two wheels of the bike are balanced by the sidecar and so there's no question of leaning the bike too far one way or the other and falling.
Vere enjoys the experience of driving the motorcycle, and makes mental notes about the way it handles, for use when he gets one of his own without a sidecar....
Between the time he's spending on the road and speaking with his men, it will be close to morning when Vere reaches Paris again.
[Which isn't entirely right but serves to put Vere on the same time frame as Celina again.]
Vere roars through the nearly deserted streets of pre-dawn Paris, keeping a wary eye out for hazards or attacks, and drives straight to the main entrance of the palace. He cuts the engine, and pats the machine as he would a horse, before turning to his passenger.
"Report to your commander," he tells the man. "And inform him of the arrangements I made regarding yoor companion. See that relief is sent."
Then he dismounts from the motorcycle and strides towards the palace, expecting to be intercepted by guards, courtiers, or even a family member.
He's intercepted by a guard, who recognizes him as Prince Vere and says he has orders to bring him to King Corwin. If Vere needs a moment to freshen from the road, or would like food or drink to be brought to the meeting, it will be arranged.
Stopping by a fountain or an ewer of water to wash the dust of the road from his face and hands will be sufficient. Vere has no wish to delay in answering a royal summons.
Corwin is in the chambers that seem to serve him as an office and family greeting room, where Celina decked him some long time ago. He seems distracted and it takes a moment for him to open the door to the chamber. He gestures Vere in and, once the door is closed, moves to take his hand.
"Jerod, Vere has just returned. Ask him yourself."
Last modified: 26 December 2009