Chasing Prey

The night is not quiet, not in the valley of the Seine within sight of Paris, but it is at least quiet-er than the city.

The moon is bright enough to see by, although anyone racing into the darkness might find the way to be difficult.

The horses will probably not do something too dangerous, unless forced to. For obvious reasons, the main road out of the quarry runs back towards Paris, but a road runs northwest towards the port area and south into the fertile Loire valley. South is where the riders supposedly went. They shouldn't be hard to catch up to.

Jerod pauses at the fork. "Charles mentioned that they were likely heading someplace coastal, or at least sunny. That one..." pointing to the northwest. "...will take them towards the port of Paris. They could south into the valley to hit the same destination but it would be a longer ride. Only one was supposed to be a good rider.

"We can pick a direction, or pair off and take one each."

Ossian frowns "We should probably not split up more. There could still be a trap. I suggest we go south."

Cordelia agrees. "I know Paris was to the North of the regions I was in before. It was a week or more away, for a fast rider. They have some intermediate goal, most likely."

Regenlief looks down from her perch atop the largest horse. "Did not your cousin Lord Conner take ship from the river port? Perhaps he can arrange for an intercept if they do head for the port."

Jerod considers the time frame for a moment. "Conner wouldn't be in port after this much time," he says. "Not sure where he'd be by now in fact.

"South it is," and with that it's off to the South, see if the lead pans out.

Jerod is a good rider...he had Uncles for teachers...but he rides at a speed sufficient to make sure Cordelia is up front, mostly to see if she has her mother's night vision. That, and because he wants to keep an eye on her. He knows she's an adult and doesn't need supervision, but the logic of that situation doesn't seem to have as much importance to him as it should, and he knows it too.

Ossian smiles at his mothers comment. "Don't think we have a way of reaching Conner right now anyway. It would take me some time to make a card. Unless Jerod has one."

Ossian is watching the ground as they ride for any tracks or other trace of the monks.

It's hard to tell their hoof prints from the regular road traffic. It's clear there has been traffic along this road, but it's not so uncommon as to be easy to follow.

Since their group is logically faster, they can push to make better time, but Jerod will look for options along the way to see if they can obtain additional information. Watching for the road "may" give them something, but if there are other travellers around...especially those coming towards their group, they can inquire as to whether or not riders matching their quarry's description have been noted.

Also, should any individuals of some law enforcement be stumbled across, then Jerod definitely questions them, as well as using them if possible to send messages to spread the word in looking for them.

Ossian tries to find out if they are moving through shadow - is this a prepared route or not? Ossian thinks they are not. The Louvre is in Paris, more-or-less, and where they are is similar to the edge of Arden, in terms of distance from the pattern.

The natural shadow paths begin deeper in the forest, or at least they do in Amber and Xanadu. The lands around Paris are much more given to agriculture than the lands around Xanadu, but the forests are dense where they haven't been chopped down. The Rangers of Arden would not think much of how the Parisians handle encroaching human activity, were they here.

Few people travel at night, but they do eventually cross ways with a carriage, carrying mail from the south. While there is a tense stand-off at first, they are happy to report to the King's nephews that they did pass a party of riders some miles back on the road to Tours, which would open the up to the entire Loire valley, not to mention the south of France and points beyond. The postal riders look oddly at Regenlief and Cordelia, but not to the point of actual rudeness.

Jerod is suitably gracious as a Prince (and an expert in protocol) and thanks them for their information, obtaining an approximate time for when they passed them. That will tell him how far behind the riders that the group is and how hard they need to ride to try to catch up.

Once that is done, barring changes in circumstance by the others, that is the pace that is set.

Ossian asks if there is anywhere down the road where they could change horses. (So they can ride harder)

They are a few hours behind the riders, who the coachmen describe as "hurrying". They should be on Orleans by dawn, and then they might either go west to Tours or drive south to the Languedoc.

There's a Royal Mail carriage house several hours south of here where they can change horses. The criminals they are chasing would have to use public houses or steal horses. Somehow the coachmen assume the other party is made up of criminals...

While the new horses are being prepared, Jerod reviews the details with the others. The advantage that they have is that unless the monks have a shadow-shifter with them, then in order to escape into Shadow they must follow the preset routes.

The disadvantage is that if the group does not get effective intelligence upon reaching Orleans, they will have to guess where to go.

If they have to guess, Jerod says his choice would be split the group. They have two Pattern initiates for travel and both Cordelia and Regenlief are more than capable for close engagement assuming the monks can be run down...unless the monks are quite skilled, the odds in a melee do not favor them with the current group, even split up.

He recommends a hard push to Orleans, new horses there and a review of any information, such as public houses supplying new horses to "hurrying individuals", or reports of horse theft, either along the way as options present themselves or at Orleans once they arrive.

Ossian agrees, wanting to press on rather than discuss things.

Regenlief agrees as well.

Cordelia looks at the two of them. "Since you two have the most local knowledge and are closest to the King, and I don't actually have a dissenting opinion, it seems like we're following your plan. Lead on, father and... cousin. How exactly are we related, Ossian? I haven't gotten the whole family tree yet. It's bigger than Mother told me about."

Jerod smiles slightly at that comment, thinking back when he was with Marissa and what he told her about Amber and his relatives...it was a lot bigger than he realized too.

Ossian smiles. "I didn't know for the longest time. But we were certain I was a famuly member. My grandfather was Jerod's father's younger brother. And Regenlief here is my mother.

"We are related on my mother's side also, I believe."

"More distantly," Regenlief clarifies. "Through Odin, King of Asgard."

Cordelia looks up. "He's legendary in my home shadow."

Regenlief smirks. "He's legendary anywhere he can be, but most especially in his own self-regard. He is the perfect example of wisdom attained at great cost, and perhaps too at too great a price."

Cordelia leans over her horse. "That agrees with the legends. My mother's people were creatures of myth and legend in many places, so it doesn't seem to odd to be related to gods."

The four riders remount the fresh horses, or as fresh as they can be at this hour, and press onwards. It's just getting light when they reach the gates of Orleans. The guards don't immediately recognize them, but when told of their relationship with the King, begin opening up. There is already a line of merchants and farmers who, were it not for the class system, might resent that a Prince was being let ahead of them when they arrived first.

A messenger has already gone to the barracks to tell the commander of the watch of their arrival.

Jerod will be asking after their quarry, providing the approximate time frame that they would have arrived had they made for Orleans. He hopes that the local guard posts maintain general entry records to assist with this line on inquiry. If necessary, it will be indicated that the trio being sought are wanted for crimes against the Crown, though Jerod does not bother to explain the nature of the crimes....a Prince doesn't explain his actions and this Prince moves and acts in a manner that shows he is more than willing to enforce his demands where the Crown is concerned.

He will also be ordering fresh mounts for their party to continue their pursuit in whatever direction they may be taking. His behaviour is succinct and precise, drawing on years of command and brooking little argument from subordinates.

Ossian lets Jerod do most of the talking, but is very observant on their surroundings, especially looking for people spying on them.

There are probably four classes of people watching them. People who are gawking at the highborns lords and ladies arriving at first light, people sizing them up to see how they can take legal advantage of them, people sizing them up to see how the they can take illegal advantage of them, and people sizing them up to see if they are trouble.

If there are any monks, they are in the fourth group. The last three groups seem to come to the conclusion that the group is best avoided.

The gates are just opening now, so the guards from the evening watch would've recorded it in the logbook. They have logged a party of monks going to the Madeline Priory, who were let in earlier. During the day, the gates are open, so they could be leaving the city now by one of them, but only just now.

The guards would recommend that they check at the Priory.

With Ossian scanning for the trouble-makers around them, Jerod focuses on the monks. He considers it unlikely they would have been open in their identity since they could reasonably have suspected they were being pursued by members of the Royal Family...self-identifying would paint a target on them.

However, it's also possible they might not have. Criminals can be surprisingly stupid when they want to be. Jerod will ensure that the information of the monks that were heading to the Priory match (3 individuals, on horseback, saddlebags for luggage, general skillset of the riders, based on Charles' description).

Once that is verified, Jerod orders the guards to send messengers with descriptions of the monk party to the other gates. The guards of those gates are to determine if anyone meeting those descriptions has departed through the gates. If so, they are to report back immediately with information on the time and gate from which they departed, plus any additional information. If not, then anyone matching that description is to be stopped and held for questioning. As part of this process, he also learns the locations and numbers of the other gates in the city.

"We can risk a gate, or check the Priory." Jerod says to the others as the messengers are being sent, making sure their conversation is not being eavesdropped. "Given the timing, I'm thinking we roust the Priory and see what we learn. If they are in the city and just leaving, they won't be able to outrun us."

Cordelia looks at the gates and silently ponders if the monks would tunnel underneath them. "There are a lot of places to go to ground here, and if they have friends, the message that they are betrayed might be leaving by a different messenger right now. Unfortunately, we don't know where they are going, so we can't press on."

Regenlief agrees. "I'd wager that they have a priest-hole in this town. Normal people who've been riding all night after being chased through tunnels and underground rivers are likely exhausted."

Jerod nods silently to both their observations, knowing the speed of their arrival by necessity would also undermine attempts at discretion to avoid detection by the monks should they have eyes available to them.

Regenlief's comment about the riders being exhausted makes him think about their horses as well, and how the riders would have stabled them or otherwise removed them from view. Not every building would have the capacity to do so, and horses are valuable...someone would notice if they disappeared or were not returned.

There are both commercial hostlers and stables belonging to estates and institutions near the gates and near some of the buildings. It’s not clear where those horses came from. The group's horses, should they choose to do so, can be left with the guards, as they have been rented by the crown...

The horses get left, along with secondary orders to follow up with the organizations mentioned to determine if the three individuals identified by the guards left their horses with any of the groups. Jerod wants a trail, even if it is later, to be able to have authorities follow up, track down means by which the monks work, who they garner services from and how those services may have been used. That can be useful for the future.

Regenlief turns to her son. "Ossian, what do you think?"

Ossian frowns. "The priory is the most likely place of information, I guess, so let's start with that. They do seem to like to establish religious orders.

"And they love tunnels. I suspect their most holy rite involves digging... Where would be the logical place to go underground here?"

Orleans probably doesn't have catacombs as extensive as those in Paris, but it is the gateway to the Loire valley and thus to the trading ports of the south. It starts with Roman Ossuaries and only has more modern underground features from there.

The tallest building in town is a church, and next to it is a group of mausoleums, likely a cemetery. It's bordered by what may be religious houses on either side. It looks to be far enough away from the river to allow for tunneling. The priory is one of those buildings.

It even looks somewhat like the one where they found Reid.

The sight of the building brings a momentary dark look to Jerod's expression. For the majority of the pursuit, he has simply been focused on catching up to the monks, but the remembrance of collecting Reid's body puts him into a foul mood for a moment before he shakes it off.

He looks over at Ossian, who would also recognize the building's appearance. "Pity we can't bomb it from orbit." Jerod says. "Let's go find our priory and stir up the hornet's nest, shall we?"

Ossian grins grimly. "You know, we shouldn't just wipe out everyone associated with the monks. There are some really good people on the outskirts of the organisation.

"But yeah. Let's stir things up. " Ossian just marches up to the door of the priory, and opens it, if it is unlocked.

Regenleif looks approvingly. "Can we have this place's Thor blast it open with lightning? It would make for a suitably operatic entrance." It's unclear if she has a personal grudge against these monks, or just likes the idea of violence. But Ossian may remember that she was wanted by the monks for unspecified crimes in and around Clervaux.

The door is unlocked, and a young acolyte is near the door. "May I help you, strangers?", he says.

Ossian smiles his most winning smile. "Oh indeed you can help us, sir. Three men came here earlier this morning. I have an urgent message for one of them, would you be so kind to help us find them?"

He nods, placidly. "Many come here seeking our help, and when we can provide it, we do. I was at prayers this morning, and the night doorman is asleep at this hour, but I can ask if we have had any arrivals. Who are you seeking? And who may I say is seeking them?"

While Ossian is working the hired help, Jerod takes a look around at the environs and makes a mental comparison to what the building looked like from the outside to get a general gist of the layout (number of stories, window locations indicating room interiors, possible additional exit points).

It's a complex of buildings, most likely built in stages. The building they've entered has 3 stories, and a front entrance you can see through that goes to an enclosed courtyard, with another, perhaps older, building behind it. They can't see the sides, but it's likely similar. There's a stables as well, but it isn't attached to the main quadrangle. The center of the courtyard has a number of statues in it, but it's hard to see through the open door what they're statues of.

Jerod in his continuing "look-see" around, turning here and there to see various things, because who wouldn't be curious about such an august structure, catches the attention of Cordelia. As Ossian continues speaking to the acolyte, Jerod whispers very quietly to her, trusting enough of her talents to hear what others will miss. "Be ready to move."

"This looks flammable," she replies, also quietly. Her lips don't move and she barely breathes. Perhaps she only does so out of habit, or to vocalize.

Jerod smiles momentarily, so like her mother. But the time and place for memories is not now and he suppresses the desire to head down that path. There is work to be done, especially if the prey is close.

Ossian makes a quick hand gesture (supposed to look lika a secret sign). "We work for Chew. Disguised." He gestures at his own clothing.

"Those monks are suspected infiltrators. Now, help us find them quickly and discreetly before they do any damage."

The door keeper squints, and seems confused. "I, I, I can take you to the Sub-prior," he stutters.

He stands straighter and opens the door fully.

Jerod follows Ossian's lead.

Ossian smiles "Be so kind. Speed is of necessity."

The confused doorkeeper gestures them in, closing the large door behind them. He may be fooled by Ossian, but he knows his job as doorkeeper depends on the door being manned or shut.

"This way!," he says, leading them hurriedly through the door into the courtyard. He makes straight across it to the old facade, which was probably once a standalone building. The garden between is well-tended and mainly contains crops on one side and what look like research plantings on the other side. In the middle are sculptures, slightly larger than life, depicting famous monks, if there are such things. He waits at the stairs to the inner building for them to catch up, and opens the door for them.

As the acolyte guides the group, Jerod stays slightly back, letting Ossian keep the young man's attention fixed on him. This gives Jerod the option to review their surroundings, mindful of anyone else in the area and possible concerns to their own safety.

It's a courtyard square; the buildings ring the garden, and in the middle are a collection of statues. The statues seem stylized, as if they don't represent people so much as ideal versions of people with certain virtues.

Ossian follows hurriedly right behind the doorman. (To deprive him of the opportunity to think). "They'll catch up," he says.

Once Ossian steps in, the doorkeeper takes the lead and comes to chapter room. It's large, and has dozens of monks in it. If the Parisian monks are amongst them, Ossian doesn't see any way to tell.

The man at the front stops speaking. "Yes, Brother?" He says to the doorkeeper. The doorkeeper just looks at Ossian.

Jerod sweeps the room as Ossian deals with the monks, looking to see if anyone suddenly gets very nervous and appears to be looking for an escape route.

No one seems to be looking for an exit, but several look concerned.

Ossian looks around "We were sent here by Chew. Three monks arrived here early this morning. We need to find them now, before they do any damage."

Several monks stand, unsure what to do.

The Friar at the front looks confused. "Doctor Chew sent no word to me. Do you have credentials?"

Jerod waits on Ossian's next response. Either his bluff continues or it will be time to show the cards. Regardless of the outcome, he adjusts his breathing, working to slow his perspective of time flow to let him focus for the moment on the room.

"For you eyes only" Ossian says as he pulls something out of a pocket and steps close to the monk. He grips the monk's shoulder with his free hand. Showing an ordinary coin to the friar but out of sight for the other monks he whispers "The three monks, now. Or this will be extremely painful." Ossian's grip tightens, threatening to crush bone.

The abbot reaches out and grabs the pedestal for support, and grimaces in pain. He is frail and not young and it's probably already painful. "Bring forth our recent arrivals," he says.

Two monks leave the room. It’s possible, Ossian thinks, that the others haven’t noticed that something is wrong, but they could’ve, so this may all fall apart shortly. There are more than two dozen monks here, probably two score, but there are 4 of you.

Jerod casually turns to watch the two monks depart the room, gauging their body language to see if they are merely following orders (whether or not they are mystified by those orders or not), or if there is a fearful tension that might not have been there before.

Jerod thinks they're clearly on a mission, but they don't seem to be doing anything but following the abbot's orders.

After that his attention turns back to the Ossian and the abbot, his gaze lazily moving across the remaining monks, calculating potential opposition.

Ossian releases the monk but stays very close. He surveys the room - are there any visible weapons around for the monks to use? Things to throw (other than the prior) if anyone bring guns?

There are two score monks, maybe as many as fifty, counting the younger boys. They don't seem to be a fighting force, but some of the monks are young men and many of the rest look like they've spent a long time working outdoors.

There's a lectern and a stand for a book, and a lovely lit candelabra. Some wall-hangings that might come down. There are rows of long, uncomfortable benches, and a book case at the back.

Plenty of things to throw.

The abbot seems to be trying to catch someone's eye.

Ossian, looking straight at the abbot says in a neutral voice (not so loud that everyone in the room will hear, bit probably more than the abbot) "I will remind you all that, as always, cooperation will be rewarded, while obstruction will be punished.

"When did they get here?"

Jerod remains in "wait and watch" mode.

"Our brothers? This morning, from Paris. I haven’t interviewed them yet. But they had the right watchwords."

The abbot leans on the pedestal again. "We have protocols to execute if we are infiltrated. Would you like us to invoke them?"

Jerod leans in to Ossian, making it look to the abbot that he is offering advice to the group leader quietly, though he makes sure the abbot can hear what he says, making it look as if he is concerned that impacting the monks here in Orleans is something he wishes to avoid.

"There are only three." he says. "I would not recommend activation. We can keep things under control. Activation may have unforeseen, and highly detrimental consequences."

Ossian just nods "I agree. It would be highly unwise."

The Abbot relaxes a bit, his posture indicating defeat. "I wish to personally avoid detrimental consequences, but I also know nothing and have little to offer intruders pretending to be our brothers who arrive here and begin making demands. Even if they know a thing of two of our ways. It just goes to show how duplicitous our adversaries are and how ruthless."

It takes a few moments, and the monks who left return. "They’ve departed, your grace," they tell the abbot.

"You shall need to pursue them elsewhere, your emissaries," the Abbot says to Ossian.

Ossian turns to Jerod. "Do we pursue, or shall we proceed with the usual routine at places like this?" There is an edge to Ossian's voice.

Jerod looks at the Abbot for a moment, then turns to Regenlief. "Summon the guard. Secure the compound and everyone in it for questioning. Maximum haste."

Regenlief moves as if she has wings, and pushes people aside as if she had a shield. She's gone quickly, if not quietly. Vaguely nordic oaths are audible until she gets a certain distance from the meeting room.

Once she is off, he looks at Ossian. "If we get lucky, the perimeter we set up catches them. Otherwise they're out and on their way to Chew to report events. We'll have to see if the others were luckier."

He glances at the Abbot scowling. "You may claim to know little but I would recommend offering up everything you know. You aided three individuals who are confirmed to have engaged in the kidnapping of members of the royal family for medical experimentation. I wouldn't expect any leniency, even if your aid was only indirect."

He leans in closer so that only the Abbot and Ossian can hear, looking the Abbot straight in the eye. "Especially when one of those kidnapped was my daughter."

If the Abbot thought his day couldn't get any worse, Jerod is making sure he realizes he is gravely mistaken.

"The Royal family? You said you were from Doctor Chew. I don't understand. We didn't kidnap anyone, we're monks, servitors of knowledge."

"Chew has been engaged in acts against the Royal family for some time." Jerod says. "Our subterfuge concerning Chew was to ensure we could get close enough to the three we were pursuing in order to apprehend them. You may not have engaged in nefarious acts against the Crown, but your actions granted aid and comfort to those who have."

He looks the Abbot over, gauging his honesty and/or sincerity. "That being said, I am prepared to consider the possibility that you had been deceived as to Chew's ultimate objectives. That will depend entirely upon your level of cooperation, which will figure prominently in my report to my uncle, the King, when we report to him."

The abbot looks like someone who is considering his options and not liking any of the available choices.

"Your... uncle? Your Grace, I did not know! You should have been direct with us, we are loyal subjects."

He straightens, and valiantly pretends that he hasn't just been strong-armed.

"How can we assist?"

Jerod looks at him for a moment, being oddly reminded of strong-arming another individual in Amber after the Sundering...and like then he feels not the slightest sense of guilt or shame.

After that, he turns to Ossian, speaking quietly. "I'm thinking we need this place taken apart once the guard is here. We need someone on-site to review anything we find and another to see if our quarry has escaped or they're in custody. I'm thinking you would be best for the review...you've seen enough of the rutter notes, plus you're familiar with monks in general. I'll do that chase down, plus I want Cordelia out of here if possible. The less they see her, the better."

Ossian nods and gives Jerod the Trump sketch he made at the last get-together in Xanadu.

"To keep in contact." he says

Assuming Ossian is in agreement, he looks back at the abbot. "Lord Ossian here will assume control of this investigation. Everyone in this establishment will offer their complete and unequivocal cooperation. Should he want something, I would recommend acceding to his requests...immediately. Doing otherwise will show you he is even less forgiving than I am."

At this Ossian smiles, eyes twinkling, turning to the abbot.

"While we wait for the guards to arrive, what do you know about the destination of those monks?"

"What do I know of the criminals? Very little. I was told some brothers from Paris had arrived after riding very hard, and we were providing them a place to rest and likely fresh horses when they arose. Honestly, it was most irregular. Usually couriers are planned and arrive on a schedule. If they’ve taken… If they’ve stolen our spare horses, they will disrupt our regular communication with our sponsoring chapter."

The Abbot's natural peevishness seems to be reasserting itself.

Ossian smiles. "Where would your sponsoring chapter be?"

"Valmagne was founded from lost Rievaulx, which was founded from Bonnevaux, which was from Clervaux; we are a daughter house of Valmagne."

Ossian nods. "How do you communicate with Chew?"

"Doctor Chew sends agents, who carry the means to converse with him via the blessing of the Holy Icons." He looks at his brothers. "We are not a major abbey, and have no daughter chapters of our own, sandwiched as we are between Nice and Paris." He pauses. "But we do good work."

"I hope so." Ossian says with a smile. "I have never seen one of your holy icons. Could you tell me about them?"

There seem to be noises without. The abbot looks to the gatekeeper, who gets up to go investigate.

Ossian is alert.

Jerod and Cordelia depart and quickly find Regenlief dragging a minor city official with her back to the abbey. He is protesting, but a troop of guards who aren't quite up to "rescuing" him from Regenlief are following in her wake. This is apparently her plan.

Jerod chuckles at the sight of Regenlief manhandling the official but lets it fade before they get into range, letting the Prince mantle fall back into place.

"Good. Should be enough to start." he says to Regenlief once they get into range. "You..." he says pointedly to the official. "What's your name?"

The man shrugs out of Regenlief’s grip. She lets him. He dips his head, not quite bowing to Jerod. "I am Frotarius Trencavel, my Lord. I am bailiff of the shire."

Once he gets it, Jerod continues speaking, not letting the official get a word in edge-wise, literally speaking over him if needed. "I am Prince Jerod of Amber, nephew of King Corwin and here on his behalf," he says, then pointing behind him at the compound. "You will accompany Regenlief here into that compound where you will find Lord Ossian who is conducting an investigation on the King's behalf. Secure the compound and all individuals within. Obtain additional reinforcements as needed to do so. You will perform any task that Lord Ossian requires, without question. Is that clear?"

His tone suggests that anything other than an affirmative would be a really "bad" idea.

"I ...". The bailiff starts. "Yes my Lord, perfectly clear."

Once he gets a yes, a nod, or other such action from the official, Jerod sends him and his troop along with a "Move it."

Trencavel turns to a soldier. "I need Captain Arles and his entire troop, here immediately." The soldiers follow Trencavel, who is following Regenlief.

Assuming the troop starts moving, he will catch Regenlief's gaze and for a brief moment smile before saying to her. "Have fun, don't burn it all to the ground just yet."

She shrugs. "If you insist."

Once the troop has headed off and they are alone, Jerod takes a breath, letting the Prince mantle drop as he looks at Cordelia.

"Sorry about that. Wanted to get you out of there before someone starts putting stuff together. They may have figured you're Family, but that's probably it for the moment. And the less they know the better for you. At least until we can get you inducted into the Family proper."

At that point he stops, still looking at her, and for a moment seems at a loss for words. His thoughts race at all the questions he wants to ask, needs to ask, but not in the middle of the street. And still with a few things left to look after.

"Uh...we need to check with the main headquarters for the guard, see if they've caught our quarry or they've gotten away. Once that's done, we get that behind us..." and he pauses again.

"I've got a lot of questions to ask...and I'm not sure how to go about asking all of them. And I hope for whatever questions you might have that I can give you answers you can use. I promise once we get that next bit taken care of, we'll head back to Palace."

He stops again, shaking his head slightly. "Gods...we've been racing around so much I haven't even stopped to ask how you're doing."

As part of the conversation, Jerod would probably walk and talk with her as they head to the guard headquarters. He is eager to conclude the business of the monks for the moment...there are more important things than that to consider now.

Walking away involves the use of her parasol. The morning sun on her sensitive skin is best interrupted by lacework.

She shrugs. "I'm not sorry to be busy. It's a lot easier to process my mental state when I'm chasing villains across the countryside. At some point, I will lock myself in a room and have an absolute melt-down, but the longer I let that wait, the more controlled and positively directed it can be.

"Also, I feel as if some great weight has been lifted. I think they were doing something to my will.

"I'm pleased to be able to feel very, very angry at them."

Jerod frowns a little, forcing it to not become a scowl as he listens to Cordelia's comments, the possibility of experimentation of any type driving into him like a needle.

"Your mother would have..." he says before stopping, a few strides passing before he continues. "Let's just say that had I wanted to speak to the monks here, I would have had to do so quickly if I wanted answers. She and I suffered fools equally poorly."

A few more strides pass and he knows the questions he had hoped to not ask here are coming to fore anyway...answers the need to be pursued.

"You said you had died. And that mother was gone. That you came to the crypt where Celina and Merlin found you before bringing you to me." he says. "I didn't recognize it...so I know I didn't build it.

"What can you tell me about that, about you and your death. Or your mother's? Trying to understand how it all works and it's a bit...confusing." he says, signing slightly. "I didn't see any sign of changes when I came back. Every year, I came back...and she was always there where I had placed her to rest. I know the time flow is different in Twilight, faster...a lot faster. A day here, would be like five there."

"The last time I was there was a few months before the Sundering. But it was still the same."

"I'm not like my mother, in lots of ways. She saw lots of ways in which I was like you, if you're wondering. But not in everything. I am also more than the sum of my parents. I want to be clear that I am my own person, and I hope that's OK with you, but if it's not, you'll still be my father and she still will have been my mother."

She turns her parasol slightly to keep the sun off her delicate skin.

"Death is a transition for anyone. For some it may be the end of a life, for others merely the end of a phase. Death is like puberty, in that understanding. Mother's people pass to a place that's connected to Twilight, but not of it. Some view the first stage of life, the living stage, as if they were caterpillars and after death, they ascend to the sky as butterflies. The caterpillars don't understand the sky, but they know the cocoon is still left behind.

"That's mostly horsecrap. It's more like 'I can visit the spirit world and come back to the living world, but if I move to my spirit home full-time, I can't go back to my body and it dies.' Which isn't very poetic, but neither am I."

"I'm... unique, like I said, since I inherit my personal traits from each of you. Most of her people are horrified by your potential eternal life. Will I reach a stage where I decide to find a way to ascend, leave childhood behind, and spend my next phase in the spirit world?

"I've no freaking clue."

Her last comment brings a chuckle. "Few of us have a clue...until after we need them." he says.

"And yes...you're your own person. I would hope for nothing less. I did not have the opportunity to be there when you were born, and for that I'm sorry. But one advantage of possible eternal life, is you can always try to do better...if one so chooses. I would choose that path, if you'd have me on it. If you choose not, then as you've said...I'm still your father, and I'll always be there to help if it is needed."

They continue their walk to the guard house for a few more moments before he speaks again. "I definitely have questions about your mother, and this transition you speak of. She did not speak of it much and I was not there long enough to gather much beyond legends and myth. But those questions will wait for a little as I wish to ask you about your comment...that you believe the monks were affecting your will.

"Why do you believe that? I've noticed you haven't disappeared back to the crypt yet so I would guess that is part of the weight that is gone?"

She matches him stride for stride, effortlessly.

"When you are a child, you don't realize just how unusual your life is, to other people, it's just how things are and you have no perspective or yardstick to measure against. Growing up requires gaining that insight. It's true of everyone, even if not everyone reaches that milestone. I'm going to have to learn how to be your daughter, but I've got a lot of processing to do."

Jerod nods at this, pleased in some ways at the level of wisdom she displays. He smiles slightly, thinking she probably gets that from her mother.

"Some of which I'll do while dismantling the people who imprisoned me. I can't say how they did it, by the way, but I wanted to leave and didn't, and I don't know who else could've affected me thusly. I need to do more research, but that's more about learning to counter it than evidentiary proceedings."

"There are ways to influence the minds of others, though typically sorcery and things like mirror magicks would be the most common. True sorcery is limited by our power over Pattern however, though I do not know about the others. There are some powers that are tied to Family that also might work, though if they were used that would mean a member of the Family was involved. That is something we may wish to ask about of my aunt Fiona....her knowledge of sorcery is quite considerable.

"Regardless, we will need to make sure you have defenses against such threats. Introducing you to King Random, my uncle, will give you options, if you choose to accept them, to gain the power we wield as Family.

"That is for the not too distant future however. I suggest we get to the guard headquarters, see if our quarry has eluded us, or if they're available for...dismantling." he says, with a hint of wolfish grin.

Barring issues, they can make their way at whatever pace is deemed appropriate. Jerod also makes it clear that should Cordelia have any questions, he is more than prepared to entertain them.

She's focused on the practical, while there is a crisis going on. "I'm sure Ossian will find them or flush them out. Did I hear right that that giant woman is his mother? She's impressive."

Jerod smiles. "Oh, that's one way to describe Regenlief. She is definitely a force to be reckoned with, enough that I find I like her the more time I spend around her. You'll find most of my cousins equally impressive in some fashion. I must be sure to introduce you to Brita. She is a Nordic Water Goddess....emphasis on the Goddess part."

She nods. "What's a Goddess?"

Jerod doesn't recall any mention of divine beings in Midnight.

Jerod makes note of this, fitting it into the comments that Cordelia has made concerning vampyr transitions and such as he builds a model in his mind, letting questions fit themselves into place to be asked later.

"That is a long term discussion as it applies to us and our power." Jerod says. "I promise to explain when we have time."

She nods.

The guards don't have a headquarters, per se, but there is a beer hall by their stables that they are generally found at.

They are, indeed, holding a makeshift court at it. It's significantly empty, because of the guards that are off with Ossian.

As they enter, Jerod sweeps the room to see who still remains, whether any hold any rank of worth as well as sizing up those wearing said rank. He is looking for their state of affairs as well as what they appear to be up to, especially people with rank as he is going to be looking for answers, and the last thing he wants is someone promoted past their position due to politics who does little more than supernumerary activities.

Once he's got a target, meaning the person with the highest rank, or looking to be "in charge" and telling people what to do, he swoops in.

"I am Prince Jerod." he says simply. "What is your name?"

The woman stands, as do two men she is sitting with. She looks as if she's done some fighting. Possibly a lot of fighting. "Your highness, we'd heard you were in town. I am Honor, Garde Champêtre Principal of Orleans. May the Garde assist you?"

Jerod nods, some satisfaction settling over him to be dealing with individuals who have both training and have exercised it in the past. "Honor, we are in pursuit of three individuals who entered Orleans early by horse. They made their way to the local priory and rested there. When we entered the city I ordered that the city gates be ordered to keep an eye out for three individuals travelling together, with appropriate descriptions, to be detained."

Jerod's expression will indicates he knows it is likely a long shot this might have come up with something, but he covers his bases.

"My cousin Lord Ossian is currently at the priory with more of your compatriots taking care of that situation. But our quarry left before we arrived. We need to check with the gates and those covering them to determine if they have escaped."

"We recently got off duty at the Nantes Gate. If they left, they left before your order, My Lord. We've heard no differently from the other gates. We do not usually man them during the day, so we should 'ave heard of any activity such as that. I can send runners to inquire, if you need me to do so."

Cordelia nods, "Do so. Father, we may find they lied to us when they told us our quarry had left the priory."

"Indeed, which is why I left Ossian and his mother with the guards. The troop will cover more ground quicker than just the four of us would have. And they might have told the truth, even if it's unlikely so we covered this base. We will wait for the report from the runners and then head back to see what Ossian's found."

The constable sends two runner to query at the gates.

Since it is an inn and the runners are likely to take a few minutes, Jerod grabs a drink and settles in to be patient.

Jerod and Cordelia sit. She has a glass of water. It doesn't look particularly clean, but that doesn't seem to bother her at all.

The guards for the most part seem unused to seeing a royal personage in their drinking establishment. They give the pair a wide berth. The tavern seems quieter now than it did from the outside.

After a bit the runners return. "No one has caught any such men attempting the gates, my Lord," reports the runner.

The second runner reports to the guard, Honor. She sends him off, probably to let someone know where the Prince is...

Cordelia finishes her water and is ready to depart.

Jerod's glass is likely to have been equally unclean, but he's had much worse in his travels. He does not drink as he normally does, otherwise the amount of alcohol consumed would be considerable. Once he gets the final reports, he nods, standing up.

He informs Honor that they will be heading back to the priory. Should any additional details become known, that is where he will be.

"Very Good, My Lord. We'll make sure you are informed if anything comes up."

And at that, they're off.

Cordelia is with him.

"Do you think the local monks are like the others, or are they just camouflage for what the order really does? I didn't get a feel for it, although I didn't like the Abbot."

"I suspect most of the monks are innocent of malice." Jerod says. "Not of action mind you, just malice. They would undertake orders they receive but probably do not know the full extent of the impact of those orders. As for the Abbot, I would agree. While Paris does have a judiciary and courts, the power of the Crown is paramount. As a Prince of Amber, and my uncle's nephew, if I felt it appropriate, I could have killed everyone in the building and then explained it to Corwin later.

"I wouldn't have of course, but the option is there... and the Abbot knew it. But his behaviour when he found out my identity was not of legitimate outrage... of being accused of something falsely... it was fear... and I think fear of discovery.

"It also fits with the behaviour of the monks, operating in isolated outposts, keeping communications to strict lines and cells to prevent significant breaches. To destroy the monks we need to either roll up each outpost individually, or find the head of the snake and cut it off. Last time I ran into Chew we almost did I think, but he's good at escaping and leaving others to die."

He turns slightly to look at her while they are walking. "I'm curious... when the monks were coming after you, what impression did you get of how they approached confronting you? Did they seem to have a set objective to meet, and when you stymied it they would retreat to get new orders? Or did they think on their feet, adapt to your actions, which generally one does if they have a view of the big picture."

She shrugs, her long incisors gleaming. "I don’t know. Half the time I think they found me to be a surprise, spoiling their hidden Parisian base. Sort of a ’they delved too deep’ thing. Was I put there to keep them in check? Did they put me there for their own purposes and lose control? I wasn’t really involved in that. It felt as if I was not something they had a plan to deal with, just countermeasures.

"But I do not believe it was unplanned, so the question I have is if they tried to use me or someone else did." She pauses. "Do I have one enemy or two?"

"Or an ally of which you are unaware." Jerod says. "You may have been put there to be found. Celina and Merlin were not delving in the depths idly. We had word that a daughter of Rebma was held by the monks, acquired from an...I suppose the word enemy and rival can be used equally with her...enemy to Celina in her role as Queen of Rebma. Everyone initially thought we were dealing with a child of some long lost princess...no one knew for sure, but it was exactly the kind of thing to instantly spur us to take action. If someone wanted us down there, it was the kind of bait to use in a trap.

"I think when we are finished here, we shall have a talk to the enemy I mentioned. Her name is Bend, she is in my uncle's dungeons...or least, I'm hoping she is. She made the mistake of working for someone who killed my Aunt Florimel's son so I'm hoping dearest Auntie has not yet decided to deal with her in any number of horrific manners."

She looks skeptical of the possibility of a hidden ally. "Your aunt sounds charming. We'll have to compare notes."

Jerod and Cordelia arrive at the Monastery, and find the doors are suitably guarded by the constables, or whatever they're calling themselves here. They smartly stand aside for the Prince and his daughter.

The building looks quiet enough. Nothing is on fire, and there is neither lava nor smoke and ash anywhere.

She looks back at them as they're crossing the inner courtyard. "Does everyone always just do what you say?"

Jerod looks around, oddly disappointed at the lack of volcanic activity though he knows Ossian is not as impetuous as he is. "Usually, though it is conditional on the circumstances." he says. "I never tell those of higher ranking what to do, like my aunts and uncles for instance." and he smiles. "That wouldn't be smart of me.

"For others, mostly yes. I was raised as a Prince from the moment I could walk....to command, to be the son of a King, and then one day be a King. It's ingrained to lead, and to be a leader...which given our Family and how many leaders we have can be quite a challenge. I won't say that people like to be led...but in situations of uncertainty, they will rally to someone who they think has a plan. If you appear to be that leader, that's good. If you've actually got a plan, that's even better.

"So even though my father is dead and I'm not in any line of succession, I still claim the title of Prince...but one I claim now as a choice, as a..." and he pauses, looking for the right word.

"As a way of living maybe. No one could have foreseen my father's death, or the Sundering...how it turned everything upside down....made so many things I had been born with irrelevant. In a lot of ways, I had to start living from scratch. Learn the difference between the power that rank gives, and the power that choices give.

"That's something I learned from your mother as well." he says, looking at Cordelia. "I just didn't have much chance to work on before she died...after which, it was back to the old life.

"I preferred her ways."

"Hmm. I want to hear more about my grandfather before I decide how I feel. It's easy to see the attraction of a life different from the only one you've ever known."

"Grass is greener." Jerod muses. "I'm sure I can come up with some stories about Dad...there are so many to choose from."

Jerod will find a guard and determine where Ossian and the rest of his party disappeared to.

Lord Ossian, the Abbot, and the Giant Blonde Woman went into the side building, where the fugitives were last seen.

Jerod nods at the information, verifying the search activity of the remaining guards on premises, their orders and ensuring they maintain a perimeter while the search is underway (no one in or out, regardless of emergency, without approval from Jerod or Ossian, or the Giant Blonde Woman), securing of evidence and any recalcitrant monks.

There is nothing particularly untoward. The guards haven't found any contraband or secrets, and they haven't found any fugitives. The monks do not like this, but they are being nominally cooperative.