Martin and Edan come to join Gerard, who is alone at the moment.
"This needs to be done in the presence of the Regent, or at least the eldest uncle present in Dad's absence," Martin says.
Gerard remains silent and waits for what Martin and Edan have to say.
Which is, on Martin's side, "I thought about what you said, about me not resigning as KC. I also talked to Brennan, and he doesn't want me to either. So I'm withdrawing anything official. I am going to be away for a while, for reasons you understand," which Gerard clearly doesn't, because his brow furrows, "and I'm leaving Folly in charge, if nothing else because she needs an official position in court. But I wanted to tell you first, since it's my fault we're in this fix, and you who were put in the worst position because of my error."
"I agreed to all this. It had to be done," Edan says. "The King trumps all the other factors, and I will continue to place my faith in this. It will see me through. What are people saying, though? What is my position right now?"
Gerard speaks up in answer to one of the questions. "Nobody's saying anything, lad. Except maybe that Martin is nice with his honor." The word 'nice' sounds like a criticism, especially since Gerard gives Martin a look when he says it.
Martin shrugs at Gerard. "Nobody's going to remember this incident in a couple of months anyway, and not just because we're all immortals and forget everything. There'll be enough other business for the gossips to worry about." He turns his attention back to Edan. "Your position is exactly what it was: head of one of Dad's orders of knights. I expect to be absent from court for a time, in part on royal business and in part because it's always been my intention to raise Lark away from any court, so she could grow up without the burdens I lived with as the marriageable grandchild of the monarch. I will always be the King's son here; my position is what it is. If you and I are clear, then I am content."
Edan nods in response. "I understand. We are clear, yes. My major concern going forward is the Order of the Lamp and my new son."
"Then we're in agreement, and if you're willing, we can clasp hands and part as friends." Martin waits until Edan has responded to offer his hand, as if he is being careful not to put Edan on the spot again.
"Of course we can, Edan says, and takes Martin's hand when it is offered. "The best way to see if you made the right decision is to ask, 'would I do it again?' I would. Many things went wrong, but the main goal was accomplished. If you need of me in the future, I am here. Paige and Merlin have my Trump." His head tilts a little. "Maybe, jink a little more to the left next time."
Gerard still looks a little boggled, like he doesn't entirely understand what the underlying fuss is about and thinks it's all overblown. Mostly he realizes he's here as a witness, so he's paying close attention to what has been said.
Once Martin and Edan have completed their handclasp, Gerard says, "I'm glad you two have settled whatever differences you had over this. I know you both did your best. Now sit down for a moment and have a bite and tell me what's going on."
"I wish I could, Uncle Gerard, but I've accepted an urgent errand for Jerod and I told him I'd go at once. I'm rescuing his Weir from Gateway and taking them home," Martin explains apologetically. "And I'm taking Lark with me."
This clearly doesn't sit well with Gerard.
Martin continues, "Edan, if you need to reach me, Folly has my Trump. Or Merlin or Dad. I'm not great at answering but I do sometimes."
Edan touches his forehead in an adab. "If you need me, I will be here. Please, keep in touch. And be careful."
Martin nods once, but he's smiling. "I will. Now, if you'll please excuse me; I must fetch my daughter. Uncle Gerard, I'll contact you once we're settled safely; I'm hellriding so it'll be a couple of days, probably."
Gerard is still confused. "Stay safe, lad. You and the little one both."
If Martin leaves quickly, he will politely wait with Gerard to explain afterwards.
Gerard is looking at Martin's wake like Martin has grown a couple of heads. Then he turns to Edan. "I'll remember that, even if I don't know what I'm meant to be remembering. Who watered his grog?"
Edan is still watching Martin cross the room. "Well played, actually. He's leaving for a while, because of how we were involved with Vialle- you heard what we did- and because he wants to protect Lark and because Folly needs a chance to settle into... well, however it settles. He insists on saying he made me take sides against the Queen to protect the King, even though I was already acting on that, and is trying to take all the responsibility of that on himself as he leaves- an exile without being exiled. Since he theoretically made offense against the Lamp by ordering me around, he and I have publicly mended fences between ourselves and our Orders in front of witnesses. Knowing I have to stay here, he's erasing much of the damage to my reputation. I disagree that hiding in Shadow is the best course for Lark, I think she's safer here, but that not my decision. I should have asked who will represent the Card in Xanadu, though, I'm not completely clear on how he's organized it."
"Ask Folly," Gerard suggest. "She'll know. And I agree, Lark would do better here, but I know enough about his raising in Rebma from things he's said than to try to change his mind."
"It is a thing we would always disagree about, he and I, and I am actually stronger away from the center," Edan says. "Assuming Hannah agrees, I would keep my son here in Xanadu. I need also to consolidate my knights. And I have one that will need to be found."
"Hannah seems sensible enough but I wouldn't want to argue with her if she sets her mind a different way." Gerard says that in a tone that suggests some experience butting heads with Hannah.
"What's happened that one of your knights will need finding?"
Edan looks down. "Kyauta, my affine, and more importantly a Knight of the Lamp. When the Marshal caught up to me in the camp, it attacked him. The Marshal threw it... somewhere. I think into Time. I have to find out for sure Where or When before I can make a plan to rescue it."
Gerard frowns in concern. "I've no idea how to do that, lad, or I'd offer my help. Do you think our guest would know how to find out where it went? Or is that a bad idea?" he adds hurriedly, perhaps remembering better.
Edan nods. "It is exactly as you say. The Princess has been perfectly straightforward- surrendering herself and an unknown Pattern blade to Conner, presenting an independent path to peace, likely through marriage. Yet, she hasn't been told what has occurred, and is not an ally until Random says so. Can she help me? Probably. But I have neither the skill nor the stomach to be deceptive. If I tell her part of it, I'll be telling her all of it. I want the king's agreement before I do so."
"You need to talk to Random, then. Let's go back up to my chambers and I'll lend you my Trump of him so you can let him settle what you're allowed to say," Gerard suggests.
Edan feels some of the tension he didn't even know he was carrying begin to ebb. "Yes, please. That will solve a lot of problems." He's ready to follow Gerard by whatever path they've engineered for him to get upstairs.
While Folly is still pondering how to answer Brij's question about Huon, Martin and Edan exchange clasps, in what is clearly to Folly's eyes a staged gesture that everyone in the room can see. Then Martin excuses himself and moves toward Folly and Brij and Lark.
Lark wriggles to get loose and run to her father. "Daddy!"
Martin's face lights up at the sight of Lark. "Hello, sweetheart. Ready to go on an adventure?" He turns to Folly and Brij and his demeanor cools significantly. "Brij, hello. Folly, do we have anything we need to iron out before I head out on that job Jerod left me with?"
Folly's own expression is still bright with affection from watching Martin's interaction with Lark, but her eyes tighten just slightly at the corners. "Let's see... I have Card, and your card, and you have mine.... I'll try not to break anything here, and you take good care of our girl and call me when you're able." Her tone is fairly light, but Martin, who knows her well, can sense all the layers she means in that 'able'. "The rest we can work out as we go."
Brij smiles up at him. "Martin, I hear that you were one of the people who helped rescue your father. The people of the kingdom are in your debt, even if they don't know it. Give me a moment, though."
She bends on one knee. "Hey Poppet," she says to Lark. "Have a good adventure, take care of your Dad, and don't forget to write to your grandparents. Your Dad can have the letters delivered here."
Over their heads, Folly flashes Martin a brief, comical look that is easy to interpret as 'I guess that means I'm stuck here with my mother....' But she makes a gesture that seems to suggest passing notes through a trump as a way to honor that request.
Lark nods. It's a toss-up if she'll remember the instructions beyond this room or forever. Brij hugs the girl and stands back up, looking Martin in the eye.
Folly hesitates just a moment, as if to make sure her mother isn't about to cause Martin any grief, and then kneels down herself to hug her daughter one more time. "I love you both so much," she says. "Be safe, have fun, and I'll talk to you soon, okay?" She kisses Lark's head and smoothes her hair before standing again.
"Be safe," she repeats to Martin, and reaches out to squeeze his arm gently; he may be able to tell she is holding back from hugging him out of respect for his need for a bit of distance. "I'll see you soon."
Martin squeezes the hand that's around his arm, which seems to be about what he can manage. "Yeah, and I'll make sure Lark remembers to write. Not that there's going to be anything much to write about. This is a milk run.
"Take care of things here," Martin says, not specifying what things he thinks Folly will need to take care of, "and you take care too, Brij." He lets go of Folly and leans down to scoop up Lark. "Come on, kiddo, we've got a ride ahead of us."
Brij nods, but doesn't interrupt.
"What're we riding?"
"You'll see."
The two of them turn to go. Lark waves goodbye to her mother and grandmother. Martin does not look back.
Folly smiles and blows a kiss to her daughter; only Brij, who is standing near her, can see the continued tightness around her eyes that suggests she's sitting pretty hard on an emotion or two. She watches fondly until they have left the room, then lets out a soft sigh. "They'll be fine," she says, mostly to herself -- although it's possible what she really means, or hopes, is 'We'll be fine'.
Garrett is distracted as he watches Martin and Lark leave the room, but he appears to have heard Delta's question. Turning back to Delta, he replies, "I'm sorry about your grandmother. As for Rebma, I don't know. I found it a little disconcerting." He sounds almost apologetic as he explains, "I thought I knew what to expect, and I reckon the place itself WAS what I expected. But what I didn't expect was how the whole experience of being in a female-dominated realm would make me feel completely upside-down. Talking with some men from Amber helped, but I need to go back there and learn how to work through it."
"Female dominated?" Delta asks, with a tilt of her head. "I've met the Queen, but was that so strange? Back home, power is what you can take, instead of what fills your breech--" She pauses there as Gerard clears his throat.
Gerard clears his throat loudly and says, "Attention," in a way that gets everyone's, well, attention. "I've got royal business to attend to. Finish your meal as you please; there's no rush to leave. If any of you need me, you can find me in my chambers. I bid you all good evening and thank you for coming." Which sounds like a royal dismissal, or at least a regent's release from Mandatory Fun.
"Ah, balls. I need to get permission to watch Fletcher walk the Pattern. Hold this for another day? Over drink?" She smiles at them both, but there's a coiled energy in how she adjusts her position in the chair; she's about to go running after the regent.
"Of course. Go." Garrett smiles with a nod of his head.
Fletched waves at the departing Delta. He turns to Garrett. "It's been one heck of a long day, hasn't it?"
"It has," Garrett agrees, then lowers his voice, getting back to business. "So. Our guest. Did you get a chance to talk with any of the elders about what he told us?"
Fletcher grins at the young prince's question. Fletcher's tempted to say that he did confer with two of the three family members who are old older than he himself, but it's getting late. "I did talk Dad and Corwin, and also your Dad and Caine. I guess they have faith that all of us are all plotting valuable courses for ourselves."
First stops talking a moment before Gerard starts and turns towards him just before he clears his throat. First looks around the room and notes who has and hasn't departed. "It'll be interesting to see who gets assigned to make sure I get to wherever I'm going. This castle isn't used to honored guest/prisoners."
She turns back to Alex and shrugs, possibly at her own question, possibly at his. "It could, or it could be Test Tube and Knife, but it's more likely to be magic than science. And The Chaosians, the people who we really did just fight another war against, they only nominally have parents. I'm told it's more like budding, when they have offspring.
"But on this side of The Tree, it's usually male-female parentage. It's not the only pattern, sometimes even in the same shadow, but it's sort of how things went. It's dominant.
"Who turned into a unicorn? That's the default heraldic beast of Amber and now Xanadu, so your new cousins will care a lot about that."
"Oh -- I didn't see it. That Dworkin guy told me about it, so I imagine they all already know."
Alex looks speculative. "Do you know where you're staying? Want to try an experiment? What if we get up in a few minutes and act like I'm the family member who's supposed to be escorting you?"
She smiles, an oddly liquid gesture. "Dworkin is many things, few of them clearly defined. I would confirm any stories about people who are unicorns. And I've no idea what my accommodations are to be. Last night was at a lighthouse. I think that was 'take her to a remote lighthouse while we figure out about the King'. If you've got a better offer than a lighthouse, I have no other plans."
She pauses. "But I was captured in combat. I have no intention of escaping, voluntarily."
Alex nods cheerfully. "Good enough for me." He looks around, until he catches sight of a page, and waves them over enthusiastically. Assuming he gets one:
"Hiya! I'm Alex, I'm family, and me and First to the Fray here were wondering where the King would like her to sleep tonight."
The page bows to one or both of them. She looks to be on the younger end of the pages Alex has seen, but not too young to serve. "Shall I escort you to the Steward, My Lady? Or I can take a message to him if you wish to wait here."
Alex notices another page at the door, who watches the start of their interaction and then leaves the dining room. If this were an Old World drama about the Family in the Great House, the servants' telegraph would already be sending word to the Butler about the Inquisitive Guest.
Alex beams at the page. "Your call, First, but now I really want to see how this turns out." He glances around the room, perhaps looking for any remaining escape buddies -- Misao or Delta, most likely.
Neither Delta nor Misao are in the room. "We should indulge that impulse," she says, "I'm in no hurry to go off to my chambers." She looks around when he does. "I wonder if there will be after dinner entertainment."
Alex snorts, indelicately. "I find you usually have to make your own entertainment, wherever you are. Hey, um, what's your name?" That last to the page.
"Shrike, m'lord."
"Sure, take us to the Steward."
Brij waves Gerard goodbye as he leaves with Edan. "Now, I think you were trying to distract me by talking about my rocky but decades-old soap opera. How'd it go with Huey? You didn't chase him into a cave again, did you?" Brij pauses. "Or do we need more wine to talk about my disastrous-but-decades-old love life?"
Folly watches Gerard go with a slight frown, then glances around to see who is left in the room. She seems to make particular note of First talking with Alex before returning her full attention to her mother. "If you need more wine, feel free. Honestly it didn't go too terribly, considering that like half the family wants him dead. Assuming he was being sincere, anyway. How good of a liar is he, in your experience?"
Brij laughs. "Well, he thinks he's better at it than he is, but that's pretty much all of them, isn't it?" It's unclear if she means 'all Princes' or 'all men'. "He usually doesn't bother, unless he's trying something in particular. And he's a plotter. He doesn't improvise. So unless he'd planned his encounter with you for weeks, I'd expect it to be genuine. It's easier to not get your stories crossed if you tell the truth, or say nothing and let other people mislead themselves."
She pauses. "It'd be a pity if someone killed him. He's not bad, even if he's stupidly stubborn and can't let go of an idea once it bites him. What do you think he might've lied about?"
"Possibly, his motives and expected outcome of rampaging across creation and threatening to wipe out Rebma. You know, the reason half the family wants to kill him. I didn't get the impression he was lying, but I figured it was worth a reality check from someone who knew him better than I do. 'Stupidly stubborn and can't let go of an idea once it bites him'... pretty much explains that whole story, without any lying." Folly smiles wryly at that. "So, why did the three of you break up?"
Brij laughs. "I could tell you that these things just run their course, and it would be true, but I only really found out afterwards. He said something to your father, though. Because men are like that." She shakes her head. "All those years not smoking, and now I find out that it doesn't really hurt immortals. I should have a cigarette for this conversation. Anyway, his father got captured by his awfullest brother and he went to try to rescue him. Bleys laughed when I asked him about it, so I assume it was sorta true."
"It is at least in the vicinity of true," Folly says. "Not that I know all the details. But it was a whole thing, and he wasn't the only one trying to resolve it with fratricide."
"I assumed the rampaging across creation was because he thought you'd succeeded at killing his father." She pauses. "He has issues."
"That seems to be a common theme. I never met his father, but from the stories I've heard, I can kind of understand why." Folly shakes her head and mutters, "Men," echoing her mother's sentiment. "Anyway, just so you know, I think he will be here for the next day or two while the Rebman archivists heal up from their ordeal. You know, in case you wanted to talk to him." She pauses, and then smirks. "I could find you some cigarettes, if you needed."
Brij waves a vague negative. "If I started now, it'd be an affectation. And I don't think it would mean the same thing or have the same effect here that it would in Texorami.
"I'm not really sure what more we have to say to each other. 'Sorry you left before you met your daughter, please try not to kill so many people, it makes me uncomfortable' would be pretty much the opposite of an apology," she says. "In the movies, this is where I'd take a long drag on that cigarette. But I'm not hot-mad at him anymore. I'm just not excited to spend much time with him these days."
She looks at the door where her granddaughter left. "Do you plan on him having a role in your or Lark's lives?"
"I haven't really gotten to the 'plan' stage yet," Folly replies. "He'll never be my Papa, and I'm certainly not looking for that kind of relationship, but I am interested in getting to know him a little better. And, honestly, in helping him re-integrate into the family and find a useful outlet for his skills, but that will be a conversation with Celina, too." She opens her mouth to say something else, closes it as she seems to reconsider, and then continues, "'Plotter' could certainly be a benefit."
Because perhaps bringing up his apparent talent for vendetta is not the best segue to the next bit.
"I'm certainly open to him having a relationship with Lark, and I think Martin is, too. It's comforting knowing she'll have someone else on her side when she's in Rebma, since I think he's meant to be there for some time to come." Folly smiles wryly and adds, "I know better than to say 'to keep her out of trouble', but perhaps 'get her out of trouble', if it comes to that."
"More likely she'll keep him from getting killed because no one will want to kill her grandfather."
"Now that is an excellent point," Folly says, and then notices First and Alex departing with a page. "And on that note, I've got a matter or two to attend to this evening, so I'd better excuse myself. Looks like this party is breaking up, anyway. It was good chatting with you" -- she sounds like she actually means it -- "and I'm sure we'll have more chances soon.... You'll let me know about any of that interesting gossip that might or might not be true that you think I need to know about, right?" she adds with a wry smile.
"Do you remember that band from Nahasha, The Harry Poms Orchestra? You told me that Harry's mother ran his fan club." Brij pauses to let Folly recall that particular conversation. "I'm still not doing that, but I want you to succeed, whatever that means, so yes. But you only get gossip over drinks, generally out somewhere."
There is, in addition to the stairways, a side ramp that goes up and down the entirety of the castle. This is what Gerard takes up to his chambers. When they arrive, one of the pages lets them in. Gerard takes out his deck and offers the Random card to Edan.
Edan takes it, face down of course, and bows slightly since he already offered thanks. He concentrates on the card, adding, "It's Edan," if the contact goes through.
Random seems pleased if not surprised to hear from Edan. "Hey, just in time. Wanna give me a hand back to Xanadu? Assuming you're in beautiful uptown Xanadu, and not in extreme peril, or worse, Westchester."
Edan blinks, then holds out a hand. "Of course, and I am. Come ahead, if you would."
Random takes Edan's hand and, in a rainbow flash of light, steps into Gerard's suite. "Thank you. Again," he says, quietly.
In the silence that follows, a neat pair of raps sound on the outer door of Gerard's rooms.A voice calls, "Prince -- balls, is that right? Prince Gerard, it's Delta. One of the...ah, new ones. Hoping for a word?"
Inside the suite, Gerard rolls to the door of his study and gestures to someone to get the outer door to the suite. A page runs to do his bidding.
A page answers the door. "Lady Delta," the boy says, "come in." He gestures to what is obviously Gerard's study, where Gerard is halfway in the entry.
Delta heads down the hallway, but doesn't attempt to walk into Gerard's study. Instead she offers a hand-over-her heart salute before saying, "Hallo again. I won't keep you long. Fletcher offered to let me watch him walk the pattern tomorrow." The lowercase-p is almost audible, from someone who isn't quite sure what the Pattern walk entails. "Course, he said I had to ask you or the King about it for permission." She tilts her head and adds, "What do you think?"
The bedroom door on the left opens and Hannah steps out, swaddled babe in arms, raven on shoulder. Her long black hair is mussed on the left side of her head, and her blue top wrinkled next to it. She has clearly not entirely awoken from sleep. She seems to have heard the question, but she's looking at Delta like she's puzzling her out. The baby has the pouty look of content that comes after a feeding, but his eyes are open and he seems to be looking around.
Gerard rolls out of his study/office and into the main room. "Oh, Hannah, yer awake. Hannah, meet Delta, who is a cousin. Delta, meet Hannah and her son. And Heckle." He gestures at the Raven.
This seems to perk Hannah up, and some sort of recognition alights. "Our pleasure," Hannah says, on behalf of everyone.
"What can we do for you, lass?" Gerard continues.
Edan inclines his head as Gerard wheels out, listening. "Sounds like family is gathering already. How do you do that?" He gestures, inviting them to walk out if Random wants.
He does ask as they move, "This is fortunate. I called you about my affine, who is also my knight. The Marshal threw it somewhere... else. I think into Time. I have an obligation to find out what happened, and I think First-to-the-Fray will know something that will help. But that also means filling her in on what fully happened here. Do you want that information to be given to her?"
Random only pauses for a second before replying. "I don't see how it could hurt us, and I'm not against 'giving her enough rope' in this case. I'll want to know how that goes, of course. I don't have a good read on her yet."
Delta, who has already blurted the reason for her entry, looks only the slightest bit abashed as Gerard makes introductions. "Evening," she says to Hannah, child, and Heckle. "Sorry, I was on a tear." She offers the other woman a wry half-smile. "I'm one of the new ones, if you haven't been told already." She lifts her hand and waggles fingers at the baby. "And this is a handsome little milk-drinker."
She straightens when the others -- Edan and Random -- enter the room.
Hannah smiles Delta. "I think so." Hannah moves to hand the baby off to Edan when he enters. "Are you the one with the abdomen wound? Or the other lady? I met Pen already."
Gerard is about to say something, but Random settles him down with a hand wave.
Edan nods his thanks to Random, smiles at Hannah, takes the baby and happily starts a conversation in baby talk. Or possibly Mabrahoring, it's hard to tell.
Delta nods at Edan and offers one of her hand-over-heart salutes to the King before answering Hannah. "I am the one who was ...shot, yes? The right word for it? I would know with an arrow, but with guns I do not know."
She smooths her hand down her side, over the hidden bandage. "It aches, but only that. I hear tell I am lucky."
Random acknowledges her salute with a jaunty wave. "Nothing wrong with being lucky. Or getting Lucky," says Random. "Did I hear you needed something from me?"
Delta gives Gerard an apologetic look before saying to the King, "Fletcher offered to let me watch him walk the Pattern tomorrow. But with permission only, since neither him or me want to step in a whole load of dung over it. May I?"
"There's a rule about that, which is if you can't walk the pattern, you can't watch anyone walk the pattern. But you can, so that's not the rule in question. The next rule about that is if you haven't walked the pattern, you can't watch anyone walk the pattern.
"Aside from it being a very boring 45 minutes unless you're a mind-reader, it's got two downsides. 'One', you might watch and get overconfident because someone you know walked it. I know I spent a good deal of time thinking 'Flora did this, you can do this.' And 'B', you might watch and lose your confidence altogether. So, three things can happen when you watch a pattern walk, and two of them are bad. At those odds, we just say 'no, walk it yourself.'
"You can walk it once he's done, though. If you're fully healed, you can walk after he goes. The instructions are pretty simple and I've shepherded a number of people through it." Random looks distracted for a moment, and then returns to the moment.
"Don't overthink this. Flora did it."
Hannah looks relieved at this answer. She nods. "It's also an initiation rite. One of the few things everyone in the family has in common and yet each individual's experience is uniquely their own. And Random is very good at shepherding, like he's an old uncle and not a King." She winks at Random. "That's a compliment."
She looks back to Delta. "I'd be happy to advise on healing progression." Her eyes slip to Gerard, since she's his patient, Hannah thinks.
"Well, damn," says Delta, looking at each of the adults in turn. That seems to be her only outward protest to the rule. "You'd know your own magics best.
"And...aye, thank you for the patching-up," she adds, with a bow of her head toward Gerard. "If you're both sawbones, I'll take whatever mending you want to offer. Whatever gets me ready more quickly." She smiles slightly. "But that's not for tonight, eh? You've got that little one to fawn over, and it's late."
Hannah laughs. "You can bow out, but I just took a nap and I like 'saw-boning'. I've got salves that might be good if you're going to sleep soon. Some people are better at letting wounds be when they're asleep."
Random smiles. "Let Dr. Hannah tell you if you're ready, physically. The rest will be up to you."
Edan isn't as good as his cousins at hiding emotions. There is definitely a pensive look when the talk turned to the Pattern, something like, "I wonder if I need to walk it here in Xanadu, considering," and then a second look of, "That's a really bad idea."
Random turns to Edan. "Can you make sure your new, shiny, knights are on the streets below for the next few days? I don't expect anything exciting, but I'd like people to see that the symbol of Royal Authority that we celebrated a few days ago is present and visible."
Delta keeps her voice low so she doesn't interrupt Random and Edan. "I'll take whatever salves you offer," she says to Hannah. "Seems like your tadpole is in good hands, eh? Got a place to step away to?"
Hannah nods. "Let me just pass off the uzhó baiázazá." She slips back into the room to retrieve the cradleboard. She doesn't seem too worried about interrupting Random and Edan.
She pokes Edan's free arm and slides one of the straps over it. She doesn't say anything, but heads back over to Delta.
"Ok then. My rooms, if you're comfortable with that. I had some stored in the infirmary but it has been a bit busy down there," she says. She gestures back toward the door to the hall.
"Of course I will do that. A presence on the streets, sentries at the gates. They have already done this," Edan hesitates only a second, accepting the backboard with a nod, "duty while you were incapacitated. I will keep them in the city; the army camp in Broceliande, it was in reasonably good order and I will keep them there. I will stay with the knights in the city for now. I think I owe you a more detailed recounting of events."
"Yeah, I'm fuzzy on 'events', but I got the impression that my friends, family, and loved ones went above and beyond to help me return to myself, so I'm feeling kinda sanguine about the results." Random drums his fingers briefly on the wall.
"But I'd definitely like the recounting as fodder for the ballad. What rhymes with 'Edan'? Other than 'flan', which doesn't make much sense in context, I hope."
"Maiden." Edan makes a face. "Don't use that." He makes a worse face. "You're going to use that anyway. I am happy that you are not angry. If I am reading things right, the Lamp will carry on as we planned. Is there anything else you need done?"
Random smiles at Edan's faces. Edan thinks his son reacts to them as well, but perhaps he's still too young for that.
"There's a list, and thanks for asking. I'll think of things we need done in the morning. If I don't have anything, what would you be doing instead? I learned a long time ago that the easiest thing to ask people was 'do what you're going to do anyway'."
Hannah and Delta vanish into the other room.
Edan raises his eyebrows, seems to think a moment, hefts the baby slightly as an answer. "I'm going to stay in Xanadu for a bit and work with my knights. If I can find out what happened to my affine in the interim, I will deal with that next."
"Right, Baby duty," Random nods. "He's your first, right? I've been around 'em, it's hard not to be if you're one of us, but I haven't actually known one of my own before. Take notes for me, will you? I'm going to be about 9 months behind you on that front.
"Oh, and when your knights are on missions directly from me, they should wear official red cloaks in Xanadu Royal Red. It's the new best color. Coats or waistcoats will do if they're not down with cloaks." He pauses. "I already gave the ones who came with us back to the palace cloaks."
Random looks at the baby. Anything you need royal assistance on with the affine issue? The other affine, I mean."
Edan shakes his head. "Not at the moment. The big thing was finding out if I could talk to First. If anyone could help me with a problem the Marshal created, it would be her."
"Yeah? How'd that go? I haven't decided what we're going to do about her. Or maybe she hasn't decided what we're going to do about her."
Random looks around Gerard's chamber at the newcomers. "This a good chance to learn how they think, or would be if she were a typical Moonrider. Legends aside, First seems more amenable to discussion than I'd've expected. Clearly she wasn't worried when she let herself get captured to get inside our walls. Pretty much exactly how Huon did with the Klybesians."
"She's like a... warrior princess, maybe. Or those, what were they called... valkyrie. I think honor is big with her, so much so that she doesn't mind being straightforward, and prefers to stay away from all the intrigue. I have spoken with her before, she hated the idea of being 'married off', I think it was going to be with Borel at the time.
"The Marshal, he reminds me of Benedict. Certainly fights like him. As much as I know, as much as I have fought and trained and practiced, all it did was make him happy he was sparring with someone with some skill. I haven't felt so overmatched since my father trained me."
Random nods. "Having fought your father and Benedict when I was younger, I can affirmatively tell you that they definitely take advantage of their reputations, and that smile is part of that." Random looks up at Edan. "Do you play poker?"
"Not really, there was that one time you made me stick a card to my forehead." Edan's expression changes. "You're saying some of that was a bluff. Like a feint, but of the psyche. I might have even bluffed myself, since I went in assuming he would be better."
Random nods. "Exactly. It's the same as your demonstration in town, which I hear was quite the thing. I'm sorry I missed it, even though I was there." Random thinks for a second. "It's part of being really good, is making sure others know you're good enough to not be worth testing. You may have seen a relative or two do this.
"You should come to one of my friendly games. See how it works with the stakes are only money and pride."
Edan smiles at that. He hasn't smiled much until the end of the dinner, and it felt good. "I'd like that. It reminds me I should actually pay myself a salary or something through the Lamp." He clicks his fingers. "Oh. The gold under the waterfall. My engineers have a plan with divers and hacksaws, but they say the nugget is soft enough to work. I'll make sure they keep the noise down and clean up after themselves. I'm excited to see the filigreed lamp statue after it is made."
Random nods, and Edan isn't sure if he remembers or is just nodding. "Me, too. I'm sure the story of how they ingeniously retrieved it will be part of the legend.
"But be careful how you tell that story. We don't want a goldrush of people deciding to explore the caves under the waterfall to see if they can find your secret goldmine."
"Ah, yes, well the gold won't come from here, but a close shadow. Sure." He bows slightly, holding the baby. "Dinner was fun. By your leave, I'll take a little walk with this one, maybe chat up a trickster god. If Hannah asks, I'll be in the gardens. I find it a very agreeable place."
"Some day I'll understand why people want to be somewhere that isn't a sweltering underground music club, but today isn't going to be that day. Enjoy the outdoors, Sir Edan and son. Hannah's dad is calling him 'a white buffalo calf', if you're looking for an inappropriate animal name for your kid."
Edan nods understanding. It turns into a head shake, because he doesn't understand that at all. "Of all the animals... I suppose we should talk about the magic circle in your bedchamber, but I think Fiona will want to talk to you about that first. I think it's like the firelillies, you know, not in what their source is but that it's a foreign object stuck in your realm, something that can be tracked or maybe built upon. Oh, sorry about having a total sorcery battle with Fiona in there. I kind of promised not to." He brightens. "You missed quite a lot."
Heckle speaks up. "A White Buffalo Calf is a very good thing! Or bad!, depending. Caw!" He's loud enough for Hannah and Delta to hear, if they want to.
Random ignores the bird. "We're trying to decide if we can yeet the circle into the sun without breaking the castle. The weird thing? I think that was a side-effect."
With a quick, perhaps unseen hand-over-heart salute, Delta follows Hannah's gesture by heading into the hallway outside Gerard's chambers. "It doesn't hurt much," Delta says as soon as the two women are alone. "Did when it happened, but it's like any other battle-wound -- you don't notice it until everything's quiet. And Gerard patched it up fine. Just aches now." She shrugs at that, as if shrugging off wounds is a regular thing.
She glances Hannah's way. "Been a saw-bones for a while?"
Hannah glances back with a grin. "I started practicing non-traditional medicine at age eight. I graduated with a doctorate in medicine eighteen years ago. I did my residency, which is like an apprenticeship, in an urban center, but then I practiced in an under-served, poor rural area - quite a wide one - for about fifteen years before I found this side of my family. Or the family found me, as it were. I've been around to many places since then, and I'm not sure how long to call it, so I call it a year. A lot happens, that first year in the family. It can be intense. I meant to go to the dinner but the baby fell asleep, and it is a rule to sleep when the baby sleeps, at least at first... at least sometimes... so I took my own medicine and slept more than I expected to. Were there many people at dinner?"
Delta's brow furrows. "Non-traditional...no. Other things I should get to know first." She shoots the other woman a wry smile. "Dinner was full of many people whose faces I sort of knew. From our rescue, from my cards, from...some kinship feeling, odd as it was?" She considers as they walk. "I feel no homecoming, eh? But I'm not fleeing or fighting, and I haven't stepped through a card yet into mystery. Tempting, though. Where did you come from? A place of guns and klaxons?"
Hannah makes a side to side gesture with her head. "Guns, certainly. My people call our earth the Blue Earth, Mahkato. There were klaxons on automobiles, but not many of those around. Some folks had electricity, but not the sort of people I worked with, not even in the city.
"There is electricity here. Have you seen the refrigerator? It's an electric ice box. Do you have those back home?"
From Delta's blank expression, that's a no. She shakes her head slowly. "I've seen ice...before yesterday, I mean. Once, a chunk of it floated past where the ship I served on was anchored. It was grey and dirty and the underside was pale blue. I was the only one who took the dare to climb on it and get a chunk for the captain." She laughs. "I'd never known cold before. Not before that."
"Oh. You're from a very warm place. With no electricity - there will be so many wondrous things just here in Xanadu alone then. I'm not sure the electricity here isn't just magic. I don't know how they're generating it. Usually you need moving-energy, like wind - a windmill, or a river - water wheels, to turn something... and then... well, I don't know. The motion gets turned into other energy that is sent along wires to power things that interact with it." Hannah makes a face as she realizes how little she really understands about how electricity works. "It must be friction... but... anyway, it can be dangerous too. People can be burned if they're exposed to 'naked' electricity. Or more like cooked. I need some additional learning in the concept, it appears." She shrugs as she comes to a halt and opens a door. It hadn't been locked. She's not all that far from Gerard's suite.
Hannah's entry room is a typical sitting room, except that the walls are all covered with various forms of storage. Closest to the hall are the nooks, shelves and cubbies filled with various herbs, powders, liquids, oils, immersions, salves, scales and measures. These are all made from a light wood sealed with a clear finish. The top sections have glass-paned doors and the bottom drawers and cabinets, capable of locking - except the set by the door, which is full of clearly labeled bottles and jars. The
The back wall has rows and rows of colorful jars of seed beads and thread spools to the right of the door leading further into the suite. It's a work of art of storage, a rainbow wall. To the left of the door is a giant tapestry of green rolling hills with meadow flowers, and a monument on the highest hilltop, under a big sky.
The wall behind the seating area is clearly meant to hold books, but there are only a few shelves worth currently. It would be bare but small art pieces and the various baby-related items and gifts, many still unopened. The bigger of these sit on the floor in front of the shelves, behind the two oversized fainting couches. "It's a bit of a mess, well, but for me this is clean. Having servants to help keep things organized is still new to me - took me awhile to get used to asking. Most of this is new, brought back from my pregnancy adventures. I suspect as the baby becomes a walker this will all get quite bumped up." She smiles at the idea. "I made sure everything is built in just in case I have a climber."
The space does lightly smell of the sealant, but an earthy tone from all the dried plants takes the edge off. The rugs are green, the furniture is velvet-soft blue and the side tables match the other woodwork, nearly disappearing. The rest of the walls have closed cabinets of the same build. Despite all the things, it is not yet a lived-in space. Hannah moves a smaller chair, which is on wheels, and gestures for Delta to sit. She pivots a cleverly designed table out from the cabinets, then opens one to pull down a carafe of water and a few glasses. She pulls the cork top and pours, then moves another chair to sit herself. Delta can see now there are many places in the room where there are counters to pull out, maybe other tables. It isn't unlike the tricks used to make convertible spaces on ships.
Delta wanders through the crowded room as Hannah fiddles with furniture and water service. She touches nothing, though more than once her hand lifts and drops as temptation is considered and then mastered. "Gods below, this must have taken you a good long time to assemble."
"I did have help. Like... all the assembly. I think maybe the servants were keen to hide out in here for a bit. I didn't do the bead wall, for example. I would have stored them by the likelihood I would use them most. But that looks better. I don't even know which poor servant did that for me." That clearly bothers her. "I gave birth up a floor. I didn't want to have to deal with all those people in my space, not to mention the fluids. So I think this got done while I was out at the festival and then in labor... and then... and then..."
There's an easy looseness to Delta's speech and movements now, and as explanation, she says, "By the way, it's a fine pleasure during this very long day to hear someone say they don't know something. I think I'm understanding every fifth word I hear."
"It will be like that for a while. I think I was lucky I had a belief system that helped me put things into a context I could think through. So, is the wound fully dry? Can I check it?" Hannah asks.
Delta plonks down in the chair Hannah indicates and starts pulling off her tunic. "Have at it," Delta says cheerfully once the bandage is exposed. Gerard last tended it, and she hasn't looked at it since.
"And no other broken parts have shown themselves since this was bandaged? Sometimes the excitement is distracting." Hannah kneels, pushes her hair back over her shoulders to get it out of her way, and with expert gentleness removes the bandage.
"No broken parts," Delta says. She doesn't twist to look at the wound or Hannah's tending. "Though I'd rather not run into one of those gun things again anytime soon. Too impersonal, eh?"
"Too impersonal, too unpredictable, too deadly. The higher the technology seems to get in a place with them, the worse they become too. Shoot more projectiles, faster. Projectiles that flatten or expand on impact to do more damage, that penetrate armor, or that shrapnel on impact. Yeah, avoid if you can. If you can't, try to find armor that works against it. Otherwise, do what you're told until you find a way to take control of the situation. That's how I was taught. Horrible things happen. Survive them, even if that means a temporary surrender. So, this did penetrate... you must have good luck. Do you want to see it? I can get a mirror. You're going to need one if you're planning on rebandaging this yourself, which you could do."
Delta nods, then adds aloud, "The mirror, yes. I want to be able to take care of it myself. And I want it healed so I can walk the maze."
Hannah nods at this. It is what she expected. She opens a drawer and brings it over. It has a whole selection of different mirrors of various sizes and curvatures. They're simple, none wider than a head, all trimmed with a soft wood. "It's a tricky spot, you'll have to find the right one."
As Hannah fetches, Delta says idly, "As for luck -- perhaps. I'm careful in my ways. The gods below hunger for foolish sailors. Who trained you, then? In surviving such things?"
Hannah gathers little white bags of bandages, a couple rolls of beige tape, a note card, and a two jars of salve. "My mothers, my papa, my tribe... I actually never worried about guns until I was in medical school. Most of the people I grew up with knew the right way to use one, we were at peace with the locals and other tribes. In the city, though, when you're the doctor and things go wrong and your skin's just a touch too dark and your nose just a little bit curved... and you're an interferin' woman, well. I had a few guns pulled on me. I learned real quick that the best thing is to move as quick as possible to 'side-step, grip and rip'. My professor, I rented a room from him during my residency, he taught me that. I got good enough at it that it actually worked once, and I got my hands on the gun, ripped it away, spun around and was able to point it at the man. At the time, I was so proud. He was a real piece of work. But all the others, I hadn't built up the instinct yet to move that fast, so hands up, stay calm and try to massage the situation.
"No armor in the hospital," she says dryly. Hannah steps up to a basin and pours in water. "Do you know what germs are?"
Hannah may receive the answer she seeks in Delta's completely blank look. Still, she adds, "Never heard of such a thing. Our saw-bones -- they're the bonesetters, aye? The ones who stitch you up and bind your broken parts. And then the alchemists give you salves and potions. If any of that is 'germs,' then yes? But I think no."
She's found a suitable mirror; she holds it at an angle to watch what Hannah does, closely.
"OK. You can set that mirror down. I'm about to tell you some things that are going to sound... probably crazy, but I can prove them. Another question. Can you read this language?" Hannah holds up one of the jars and points to the small instructions hand written on the back. "It's what they use here."
Delta sets the mirror down and peers at the instructions on the jar. She squints hard, then shakes her head. "Too small. I can read -- some -- but there's little call for it, where I'm from. And after today -- let's see. I have the chance to become living without end, and my unknown sire's grandmother was perhaps a unicorn? You'd have to work fairly hard to invent something to surpass those." She gives Hannah a friendly smile. "Try me."
"Okay," Hannah grins. "You probably haven't been sick much. Our family have bodies that are more efficient than average in multiple ways. What makes people sick, often, are things called germs. They're smaller than a grain of sand; you need vision enhancement tools to be able to see them. Germs that like wounds are bacteria. They cause infection. Luckily, there are things we can do to remove them. One is hand washing. The soap sticks to them and they fall off into the rinse water."
Hannah raises an eyebrow to see if Delta finds this crazy yet. "And then things kill them, like medical alcohol. Really high alcohol content liquid works too in an emergency. When Gerard cleaned your wound, it probably stung? That's the alcohol. It hurts, but it's very effective. Wouldn't use it on wounds that didn't penetrate, but yours did.
"So, this is the order of operations, sailor. We get our salve and open it." She does this, setting aside the lid and putting the jar next to it.
"We set out our tools." She lays one of the bandage bags next to the salve, the tape, the mirror, another jar she gets out with what appear to be more bandages soaking in clear liquid, and a small square block of soap. "Oh, right," she adds, and steps over by the door to get into yet another container. She comes back with more white bandage bags, but they look empty. These have red symbols, one in each corner; the Rod of Alclepius, a physician's cross, a star of life and a skull. Across the bottom and top it says "ILLNESS - GERMS - DANGER - MEDICAL WASTE" and in the center are symbols representing germs, a plague mask & biohazard. "One of these. Pull it open and set it so your waste can go in there without touching the outside. Gerard had a system in place in Amber, but we are getting so many new people all the time, I brought these back. Lets the staff know, as my cousin Paige said, 'Not to lick'" She grins again.
"We take off the old bandage." She picks that up and puts it in the many-symboled bag.
"We wipe what we're going to touch." She opens the jar with the bandages and indeed, it smells strongly of alcohol. She pulls a small square out and wipes down the top of the table, around the wood of the mirror, on either side of the bandage bag top, around the top of the basin, on the handle of the pitcher of water. "You'll want to wipe down the whole inside of the basin. In an ideal world we'd do the tape too, but we weren't sure which materials would work here, so what we have now is all locally made and the alcohol would make it not stick." The wipe goes into the waste bag.
"We wash our hands, taking special care to clean under the fingernails." Hannah demonstrates. She rinses the last bit of soap off using the pitcher. She picks up and opens the bandage bag where she wiped it. She takes out the bandage roll and sets it on the table. "This outer pink bandage has soap soaked into it. If you've just bathed and washed the wound with soap, which can be unpleasant but do it anyway, you can skip this." She dips it in the pitcher just halfway. "Sorry, this will be cold. Grab your mirror, touching it on the side away from your body, and let me know when you've got the wound in sight."
Delta sits up and looks around at the "empty" air around her, as if "germs" might be attacking from all sides. "Unseen small attackers?" she mutters to herself, then hushes as Hannah goes into the ways to vanquish the invisible bacteria beasts. She listens avidly.
"Hold on that," Delta says to Hannah's last command. "I'm coming from dinner, eh? The germ-things, they might have gathered on me in the meantime." And Hannah will get to see a very thorough replication of her hand-washing demonstration. Very thorough.
Hannah giggles. "At least you aren't telling me I'm mad."
Delta with squeaky-clean hands then takes up the mirror again. "Go on. I am ready."
Hannah is smiling. "Some bacteria are good. We can't live without them, some of them. Well... maybe we can, haven't tested it. They're always around. They don't attack so much as exist. It's like dust. It's there, you clean it up and for a short time it's clean. The whole point of all the cleaning and bandaging is to get that very clean surface, and cover it in a clean barrier to keep it clean. That's why the bandages are in the bags. The get sterilized, meaning all the germs on them are killed, and then they get wrapped on a clean surface with clean hands and put away, only to be pulled out again by clean hands. This is also why you need to tear the tape with your fingers and not your teeth. So many people want to use their teeth," Hannah sighs.
"So, two ways to do this. The alcohol method kills better than the washing method if you keep the area wet with alcohol for 2 minutes. But, alcohol dries out your skin, stings worse than soap, and if it hasn't dried, can make the salve slip down. So, you know how to wipe down with alcohol - we're going to do the wash and rinse method. Pink cloth, a little water, and wash carefully around the wound. You don't need to try to clean any open wound, but once you have a scab you'll want to very gently clean it. Scabs are good, their own protective covering. That's why we get them." She lets Delta clean and rinse.
"Salve. Dip a finger or two and use just enough to surround the wound. When you have scabs, it just goes over the scabs. If you were not family, I'd do something more complicated but this will be plenty for you. Then you fold up the bandage - these are the smaller ones, so just 3 or 4 folds, then tape the top edge first - makes the rest easy. If you're going to exercise, tape an 'x'," she motions, "over the top and wear something that won't put pressure on the bandage or that puts even pressure over the entire bandage and tape. Don't share bathwater. Do not engage in physical activity that will create contact with the wound. Drink lots of water and juice. If it were me, I would not attempt to walk the pattern until your scab has healed off. Smooth skin, not bleeding. If I got to decide, you'd be able to take a punch to that wound without additional pain before you tried it. But that's going to be between you and Random, in the end.
"This," she gestures to all the things, and Delta, "is a lot for most people - if you get sick of dealing with it, go to the infirmary instead of doing it halfway. We do this all the time, we're quick."
It's a lot of instructions with lots of unknown words, but Delta follows along gamely enough. She bites back a truly filthy joke about 'physical activity that will create contact,' but only barely -- Hannah can probably see the nascent smirk.
Hannah shoots her a motherly look. It's almost like she does this all the time and is used to smirking.
It dies, however, when Hannah explains about not being able to walk the Pattern just yet. "It's that hard, your maze? Damnation. I'm eager to get on with all of it. What's coming, the road ahead." It's said in a rueful tone. "Were you eager, when the time came?"
"It is different for everyone, but it tests you not just physically. It tests your will and... your spirit. I personally would not want to try it if I thought I might have to divert my attention or willpower from what is happening on a spiritual level to deal with physical pain." She begins packing up the many jars and bags into one larger bag.
"I was conflicted. I thought about it carefully. What it meant. How it aligned with what I'd be taught about the nature of things. Among my people I held...um, it was my job to understand how everything fit together so that I could take it apart if I needed to, or figure out a way to bend the rules. Just because I'd followed a unicorn off into another world didn't mean I could stop doing that. I worried, a lot, about a great many things. And this family..." she sighs, "like all families, it has its problems, but multiplied by the kind of power we can all manage.
"Also, I didn't know who my parent was on this side of things. And my papa... he was... is the kind of man who wouldn't hesitate to take someone else's child as his own if he saw a need there. I didn't have a way to talk to him and ask. For some time I wasn't sure I wanted to do it until I'd talked to him, but then one day, I woke up well rested and I just knew; it was time for me to do it. I found the king being a musician, which I thought was a good omen. But that's my nature, to ruminate and consider, to think about what it means for our family's far descendants, for the world. At some point all the thinking comes together and I know. I feel like you are a do-er, and you would do it tomorrow if you could. You're not going to overthink it. I lay my caution over that eagerness because no, it is not easy. It is so uniquely difficult for everyone people can have trouble describing it - and it is deeply personal. Intimate. To me it was a ritual I had waited all my life to do - and I related it to something my papa had held me back from, discouraged me from doing. For you, it is a bridge to the rest of your life. Uncomplicated. That's good, I'm a little jealous." Hannah smiles, "But you should be healed and rested, if you can be."
She hands over the bag. "Patience. How old are you, can I ask?"
"Patience! Ha!" Delta pronounces the 'ha' in a loud bark of laughter. "We're newly known to each other, but that and 'consider and ruminate?' Not me, as you say. Forward." She points ahead of her, toward a hypothetical horizon. "Always forward, eh?" She straightens and adjusts her clothing to once again hide the freshly salved and bandaged skin. "As for age -- old enough to know that a person ignores a healer's advice at their own peril. I'll do so." She laughs again, more softly. "Grudgingly."
With that, and the age question hopefully deflected, she twists to face Hannah again. "Thank you for this. I'll be ready all the more quickly, thanks to you. Have time for another question? This one unrelated to either Pattern or wound?"
"Sure. You must have so many." Hannah pulls over the other chair and sits.
Delta swivels so she's facing Hannah. "What do you know of Rebma?" She shakes her head almost immediately, adding, "Too vague. I mean, do you know it well? Its history, its people?"
"I've been there." Hannah gives a little shrug. "Not very long, but long enough to get comfortable eating, drinking, breathing and moving underwater. They don't wear much clothing because... water. There are very large people with tails called Tritons. They seem to mostly be guards there, but there is something else... I don't know. Maybe they are a conquered people, the Tritons. I'm guessing. It feels very old to me, and I say that because the architecture and layout have that layered, timeless feel to them. But again, that's a guess. The current rulers seem pragmatic and kind when they are able. They just got attacked by our Uncle Huon, who happened to have a lot of my tribesmen in his army, and they let me bring them out, to come here and become part of what Random has built. His sentence is to rebuild what was destroyed. I don't know how that's going, but he was here earlier - ah, he was where you were, because the Rebman Archivists... are they still here? I mean, they would know everything there is to know about Rebma."
"True. It was more...mm." She falls silent for a few seconds, then says, "Every story has so many sides, eh? I've heard a few now, about Rebma. Yours fit the rest. But -- more, I mean as a healer. My mother's mother travels there on occasion. The last time she came back, she'd changed from a bright, glittering fish to ...gods, something dour and subdued. I don't know why. Does the place make other people ill? I've no idea if it's an illness of body or heart, but I worry about her."
"It could be either. I hadn't heard of it making people ill, but certainly they must have illnesses like everywhere. The water dynamic, with the currents, the fact that you are somehow breathing the water, and so on, would make things spread differently than air. So her change was in mood only, or were there physical symptoms? Like, was her skin tone different, did her eyes seem yellowish in the whites? Did you notice a change in gait or if she shook more?" Hannah inquires.
"More in mood, I suppose." Her lips twist into a grimace. "You see it, eh? When a person who's old -- but still bright, strong -- suddenly one day becomes aged." There's emphasis on the 'becomes.' "Gloom, dourness, quiet. She's not one to answer my questions except in tales and riddles, but these days, she's more silent than anything. It's like she lost two inches of height and gained twenty years in one Rebma trip." She gives Hannah a helpless look. "I hear it, eh? That I don't have the knowledge for you to make a judgment about the illness. But I worry for her."
"Of course you do." Hannah thinks for a moment. "There has been political upheaval in Rebma lately. There was one Queen for a long time, but... I don't know exactly what happened, but then there was another, not of her direct line, and then another, which is our cousin Celina. So if your grandmother had any connection to any of the participants, I can see that worry or grief could easily cause that reaction. But that's on the level of losing someone or something you treasure deeply. There was a war - maybe two - one of which shook the foundations of Rebma literally. Have you spoken to Celina yet?"
"Aye," Delta says. "Briefly, before she had to depart for another realm. And I believe all she said, though every tale has more than the one side, yes? I suppose I talk to Huon next, if he grants it." She lifts her left hand, palm-up, in front of her, then draws a spiral on it with the index finger of her other hand. "You have to circle into truth carefully. Approach it straight-on and it hides, or so I have heard it said." She gives Hannah a crooked grin. "And since I have some time before the Pattern is open to me... I suppose I can pursue Truth for a while. While this heals."
She bows her head in respect. "You and Gerard have helped me greatly with this small wound -- for this, I owe you both. What is proper repayment for such treatment?"
"My services have been paid for by the king, who houses me and feeds me and mine and gave me access to our power that makes payment... not something I need. I think you'll find among the cousins there is more an expectation now that we will contribute to the kingdom in some way. Or if not to this Kingdom to whichever "dom" you end up primarily staying in. Our cousins rescue you, some of us do some doctoring; if you ever see me or one of our cousins in need of help then you help them. I've just realized this is the actual currency system here for cousins. We educate each other too. I randomly met Brennan in the library when I first got to Amber and he sat with me and explained to me the entire family tree. I met Connor in the kitchen one time and we discussed our suppositions about the structure of the universe and what we knew and what we guessed and what we believed. It's not like keeping tokens... I don't think any other cousins keep track. It's just the culture of our cousindom. Now that I realize this it makes me really happy." Hannah is so happy she looks as if she might cry tears of joy but she bites her lip and continues. "It's been hard to put into words, why I decided I wanted to stay here to raise my child when historically the royal family has not been good to each other. It's the cousins. I believe that we can take this culture we already have and use it to change the world... the universe for the better. And someone has to be the first person to be brave enough to risk raising their child in the family, with the family. In our generation, I mean. A few of our cousins were raised in one of the courts. Very few though."
Hannah shrugs. "The best thanks would be to follow my instructions so I am less likely to have to deal with an infected wound."
Delta listens carefully, and no doubt Hannah's words add another score of questions to the running list in her head. "That is a wise way, what you describe between your -- our -- cousins."
She continues. "It's not about tokens where I come from, but it's all about fair exchange. If you do something and get nothing in return, what respect is there? Who will believe later that your service is worthy?" This isn't something she's spoken about often, it seems; her brow furrows as she works slowly through her explanation. "Even small graces deserve to be seen, eh? You bound my wound, listened to my words, gave counsel. I will speak your name with praise, tend the wound with care, and the next time I need your healing, I will bring a gift." The last part is said firmly. "What gifts do you value?"
Hannah has to think about this. "Things people make themselves, rather than buy. I don't drink alcohol, so not that." Hannah grins. Obviously that has been 'gifted' many times. "Food, though, is always good. Stories, I like to hear stories. Books are fine, but I prefer hearing people tell them. But if you want it to be easy, I do like pretty beads. How do your people usually gift each other?"
"Stories!" Delta sounds pleased. "That, I can do. Probably for longer than you'd care to tolerate. And -- eh, depends, yes? I'm paid for work, for a warlord or a captain. But it's mostly goods, not markers or coin. A share of whatever a fishing vessel takes on, or a portion of the sugarcane you cut, or the beasts you tend. Who needs a stack of coin? Can't eat it, sleep on it, or sleep with it." She laughs. "Stories are good tender. I will bring you as many as you like."
She lets out a loud yawn and stretches her arms overhead -- though she quickly ceases that motion, given the tug of the bandage on her skin. "Have anything to help me sleep? Gods below, you'd think I'd be ready to collapse after this very long day. But I'm wound tighter than a whole spool of thread."
"With your constitution, you'd have to take so much to sleep, it wouldn't be worth it - and it still might not work. We of the blood are very hard to dose. That's why I tend to work on so many external salves to protect wounds from infection but let our bodies do the rest. Sounds like what you need is a masseuse. There are a few, down in the city. A masseuse rubs the tension out of your muscles, not in a sexual way - there are other people in the city for that, if that's what you're looking for - but as if it is a healing specialty. It is still intimate though, in the sense you must trust them to touch you. Some people don't like it." Hannah shrugs. "I do it sometimes for Gerard's arm muscles, because they have to do so much work. I'm not a professional though. I can give you a name and address."
"Aye, I'll take it," Delta says. "I know what you speak of. The bath-houses back home have such attendants. I'll go figure it out tomorrow, given the name you'll give me. For now, good to know about the potions." She yawns loudly, giving lie to her words about being unable to sleep. "Glad I met you, though I'm not glad for the gun wound. I like you." There's no self-consciousness in the plain words.
Hannah writes onto the back of one of her calling cards a name and location - it's not an address, but more like '1 street south of Main/Dockside, blue door'. "I like you too. Try to get some rest when you can."
"Will do," says Delta, and heads out after a hand-over-heart salute. "Until next time, Cousin." And out the door she goes.
Last modified: 2 April 2022