Celina crosses a hallway junction after arming herself from the very fine Xanadu armory. She sees a female page with a purposeful stride and stops them with a question, "When the King is done with the new youngers, I would like the pages to let Lady Delta know I am offering her a place with a team intent on the rescue of other captives. Can you make that happen? My time in the castle is short. I'm in the room with the Rebman Archivists."
If the page nods and heads off at a run....
Delta exits the studio into the hallway. Rather than seek more food, another bath, or leisure, she flags down a nearby page and says, "How do I get to the water?" She shakes her head at her own imprecision and adds, "I smell it, the salt. Where's the nearest shore?"
Before Delta can truly converse with the page she approached, another runs up to her to deliver Celina's message.
Delta's initial response is an eloquent, "...what?" And then, "...I'll ask her the questions, not you. Thanks." 'Lady Delta' certainly earned a grimace, but she can unpack that reaction later. In the meantime, she hurries in the direction the page indicates.
She's armed, sure -- a rapier hangs at her belt. Her only "armor" is a leather jerkin over soft linen tunic and breeches. She pauses at the threshold to the rescue team's staging space and glances around, taking in the sight of archivists and Celina alike.
Celina looks up and smiles warmly, "Cousin Delta. Please come in." Celina introduces the Archivists informally without regard to their rank, as they are arranged closest to the door.
Celina says, "I need air. Would you walk with me to the overlook?"
Celina moves to the hallway and begins once they've made a few strides. "So here's the thing. I never got much consideration in joining the Family and while I'm headed for Paris I wanted to do better for you if I could. So ask? Or joke? Or protest what you will. My Aunt Llewella is managing Rebma in my absence. If you decide to visit, she will show you around my city."
Delta is polite to the scholars and follows Celina without protest. Once they're alone and Celina has made her kind offers, Delta's shoulders visibly settle out of a tense hunch. "You're ...Queen, right? Of Rebma? I've met a king and a queen on the same day." She shakes her head at the wonder of it all. "Last night -- by my reckoning -- I was in a good card game, two puffs into some excellent smoke, and eyeing the new boatswain for an epic tumble. Now I'm ...here. I don't even know what questions to ask."
Celina nods once.
For all that she makes that declaration, seconds later she begins with the questions. "Do you know who sired me? Can people just come and go from Rebma? I can hardly believe it's real, but ...blazes." She glances sidelong at Celina. "What should I call you? What's Paris? Who's getting rescued? How can I help when I haven't walked your maze yet? I'm a fish flopped on the sand, compared to all you sharks."
"Sharks? Call me Celina or Cousin or Aunt when we are like this. Call me Queen if we are in Court." Celina smiles.
Celina brings them through a series of arches that opens out to a view down the immense waterfall the castle sits on. The harbor below is busy. She stands at the rail and takes a deep breath of the ocean wind. In sunlight, her green skin seems to flourish. "I don't have special insight into your family or sires. It can be looked into. Some of the peoples from distant Seaward can only breathe water, but most of the two-leg folk breathe air as well. You could think of Rebma's waters as a life-giving variant. Pressure and composition are full of vitality there. Necessity is favorable. Paris is my father's realm, King Corwin. Some of the monks that took advantage of you have a nest there. Vere's sister Avis may be in danger and there is a whisper of more captives. Who they are is a mystery, but I'm not going to leave anyone in the hands of Those People."
Celina leans on the rail and turns to memorize Delta from toes to hair. "You don't have to assist. I put that offer to you as an indication of inclusion. Sometimes working with people is the best way to get to know them. You seem...about twenty-six years? Twenty-nine? Likely I'm wrong as the shadows you grew up in would have some influence on how you see yourself. I'm twenty-one and you've played more card games than I have weeks of ruling Rebma. I just felt your experience should give you a place helping out if you wanted it. Good questions for a floppy fish." She grins.
Just the proximity of the water brings a soft smile to Delta's face, though it turns wry again as she regards Celina. "Where I come from, kings and queens stopped mattering centuries ago. Too little land, too many heirs to split things between -- now it's all just whatever warlords can grab. Every bit of shore fought for, eh?" Still, she offers the young Queen a hand over her heart in the same salute she showed Random. "The King has spoken for my time tonight. But ...let me walk your maze. When I'm more useful, and when there's need, ask me again. You're dead right -- you know no one better than the people you crew with."
She drops her hand to the railing and taps long fingers on the stone. "And I'll take you up on that tour of Rebma. When you're all back safe. I want to know the place. Why -- " She grimaces then, and falls quiet. "I want to know a great many things."
"Oh, well, what a good place to start a relationship. I want to know a great many things, too," Celina says quietly. She studies the ocean. "Make sure that Random approves of your walk, not just in principle but also specific to you. Ask him for his blessing. He's a lucky fella and his blessing carries weight."
Delta listens to the Queen's words with solemn attention. "I have always tried to be a friend to luck," she says. "Thank you for the advice." With that, she leans her elbows, and weight, against the stone railing. "I know you have to go soon. But -- you've only been Queen a week?" She offers Celina a half-smile. "Curiosity, eh? If we're both plagued with it, I'm going to indulge. How'd you become Queen?"
Celina gestures to encompass the horizon before them. She says, "I made a loose comparison between how you may have had more card games than I've had weeks on the throne. It has been most of a year. It is a story of Justice and Tragedy. Love and terrible Necessity. My grandfather is Oberon. His Dam is the Unicorn who may be a celestial being. My mother is Moire, who sat the throne for some centuries but never mastered the Pattern that built Rebma. Long Ago, before I was conceived, my Aunt Llewella had a daughter named Khela... "
Celina's voice changes register at the name. She pauses. Swallows. Sparks eat her love's face in memory.
"Politics. Khela was banished by Moire for questioning the treatment of an Oath with the service of Tritons. No one spoke of her after that."
Celina looks Delta square in the eyes. "I don't know your customs. It would be a favor to me to finish this tale. I have not talked to anyone about it." Celina pauses and clears her throat.
"My customs?" Delta turns again and leans her back to the rail, so she faces Celina more fully. "To listen to tales, that's my custom. Go on. Ease yourself with the telling." She nods to give weight to her words.
Celina nods once. She thinks for a moment or gathers her balance. "I grew up an orphan in the care of a wealthy family in Seaward. My mother died in a storm. This was a lie. I had been placed in shadow by Queen Moire for reason of her own fears about Rebman politics. I think."
Celina weaves her hands in a dance meaning the passing of time. "I grew up and since I was a very good girl grateful for the kindness of my foster family I prospered. I went to an exclusive academy and learned many things. When I was near to my last year, dreams and nightmares became common. One of my professors was concerned about my faltering attention and got me talking. Khela Khrop. She was of a big trading Shell. She was smart and beautiful and she helped me. Taught me control and of the intangible magics. By the time I graduated I was... terribly in love with her. We started an affair. I was doing post-graduate work with her and thought I'd be a teacher myself. My aunts did not approve of that idea. I thought they did not know about the affair. I don't think Khela knew who I was either, but maybe she did." Celina shrugs.
Celina goes on. "Yes. Same Khela. A shorter version of things, I fast found myself headed to Rebma on a travel grant to study government and politics. I said goodbye to Khela thinking I'd be back soon. No. Things happened. The grant fell short once I was in Rebma. The Court heard of my being stranded, the Queen 'took an interest' and I was a ward of the Court, studying and learning as I thought I would. All of that was Moire's maneuvers too. At court for a couple of years and things changed, I became part of an inner circle of attendant ladies to Moire. Unexpected. One day the Queen asked me to complete a secret task. The task was walking the Pattern of Rebma. I lived."
Celina looks at her hands. "But even then Moire did not tell me what it meant or that I was her child by King Corwin. So I continued to be within her reach, working away at my studies, beholden to Rebma. Until Corwin sent an ambassador to Rebma to strengthen ties. And I was assigned to return to Paris when he went home. I met Family. I met my father. I delivered a note he read where Moire explained who I was to him. He let me read it then while he explained to the other men in the room who I really was." Not her best day.
Celina shakes her head and sighs, "I'm saying too much. Back to the issue of becoming queen."
Celina takes a breath off the ocean breeze. "It was hard. But I wanted to learn. I needed to. Nothing really made sense yet. Too many secrets. So I learned then from Family about shadows. About what kinds of things it would open to me and that I might live forever." She shrugs again. "Out in the shadows, I met Khela again. She had finished research on a power that belonged to Rebma, a sword lost for centuries. She dug it out of a tomb of a Family member. She planned a return to Rebma to fight for the rights of the Tritons."
Celina clears her throat. "Those were good days. Back in her arms."
Celina is quieter, "Family matters became more important. An uncle with a grievance against Oberon was marching an army on Rebma to take hold of the powers there and establish a campaign against the Princes. Khela did not intend to let that happen. She had her own forces gathered for a confrontation with Moire, but she put that off for the sake of defending the city. The uncle threatened to break the entire city. He had a weapon that would certainly do that. Queen Moire fled Rebma into shadow." She stops for a moment to step on the anger at the deliberate murder of her city. Celina says, "We stopped him. Several cousins rallied to Khela. Khela took the city. Uncle Huon was jailed. She took the throne and brandished the Patternblade to show all who was the real queen when the throne was threatened. And...she freed the Tritons of the slavery treatment, restoring the ideals of the service they pledge to Rebma. And when she took the throne she named me her heir. A very satisfying ending to the tale."
Celina shakes her head 'no'. "Well. Khela knew she could not be queen if she did not walk the Pattern. It would be different than Moire but also false to do otherwise. So that was next." Celina clears her throat again. "I ...had made a promise to do everything in my power to protect her. So I did the walk with her. I saw the Pattern kill her. So I...became queen. It was ...a nightmare. And every night I still see her die." Celina weeps silently keeping eye contact with Delta. "Delta. Thank you for listening. It helps me to tell someone how weak I am. I think my story can be valuable to you."
"Weak?" Delta says it with both eyebrows raised. "You're ruling a city, you're running off to another city to free prisoners from bondage, and you've been lied to since the day you were born. Your own mother sent you off to do a task she couldn't do, not knowing if you'd live or not." She sighs and leans forward to pat the other woman's shoulder, unless Celina recoils. "You'd be well within your rights to tell everyone around you to piss off. But you don't, eh? So don't speak nonsense about being weak." She pauses, then continues. "You're ...sad. Gutted. Far as I know, that's not the same thing."
She returns her hand to her side. "Your lady-love deserved better. So did you."
Celina smiles, "That's very kind. I thought so too. My journey isn't done. I think I needed to say out loud how overwhelming it is. Being able to...take a breath and admit this is so much bigger than myself."
Celina adds, "I think you'll do well. We'll talk again when I return. Stay on your toes."
"Winds speed your way," Delta says, with another hand-over-heart salute. "Good luck to you." With the conversation's end, Delta remains on the balcony, looking out over the sea.
Celina nods and retreats to repair her face and find Merlin, Conner, and Vere. Paris is next.
Once he finds a page -- Katherine -- Alex introduces himself cheerfully. "So, my needs are simple: between now and dinner I'd like to, uh, do y'all have showers? Or a bath, either way, as long as the water's hot. I would like that, and then I would like to nap for maybe an hour if there's time, but it's OK if there's not. And is there anything like a gym around here? Um, someplace where I can lift weights and stuff?"
"We have showers, and tubs if you prefer. Let me show your lordship where you'll be staying." Katherine--Cat to her friends--leads him into a guarded (lightly, but still guarded) area that's designated for the royal family. En route she tells him about the salle, which is apparently the closest they have to a proper gym, which has some weights and the like to work with.
Alex has a small suite of three rooms: a bathroom that wouldn't be out of place in a nice hotel, a bedchamber with dressing area, and a small sitting room with a desk and a seating area with a couple of chairs and an ottoman. There's metal in the plumbing and for things like door handles, but there's no plastic at all, and all the fabrics (sheets, towels, etc.) look natural as well. The decor is something like Scandinavian rustic: light woods and simple construction without a lot of flourishes. The lighting appears to be electric, but again, no plastic.
There's not a lot of personality to the place, but it's probably the nicest room Alex has had for a while.
"They'll want to send a tailor up to fit you for clothes, but if you want a bath first," Cat gestures to the bathroom. "I can wait, or take your clothes down to be laundered."
"That's amazing. Nah, you don't need to wait on me... hey, wait, OK. I figure I have like a month before I get all noble and stuck up and forget that I'm not important. So while I'm still being a normal guy, is there anyone around who I shouldn't use as a role model? I know we probably all piss rainbows and stuff, but you know."
While he's talking, he unencumbers himself from his really getting fragrant clothing, hiding in another room long enough to wrap himself in a sheet in case Cat hasn't spent as much time as he has in locker rooms.
Cat pays no attention to his clothing changes or not much. She's still pretty young, but not too young to notice that he's pretty well-built. Back home, she might've had his poster on her wall. Or the poster of a more-popular wrestler. Or a musician. There's no accounting for taste.
Cat picks up his clothes. "I'd get in trouble if I even had opinions, my Lord, much less said anything." She returns to the solid footing of a page's duty. "Is there anything you need me to fetch for you?"
Alex chuckles. "Man, I'm going to wind up in trouble for sure, I can't stop talking most of the time. Fair enough, though. Um, can you let the tailors know that I guess I'm going to need some workout clothing as well as whatever people wear to dinner around here? And maybe like a map of whatever is outside this castle, with a big circle around the most interesting bar."
After Cat departs, he makes his way to the bath, and settles in with a sigh of relief.
Alex settles into the bath and is in the midst of a good long soak when he hears someone in the outer chamber. "Lord Alex?" someone says. "I'm Feldspar, the seamstress." She wanders to the door of the bathroom and looks him over. "I understand you need clothes." She's older than Cat. She might be older than Alex. "Can you tell me what you would like?"
"Lord Alex is my father -- wait, no, that's not right. But just Alex, please. I would like whatever people wear to dinner with the King around here. No. I would like whatever the King wants people to wear to dinner with him. I bet sometimes people get too fancy and he laughs at them on the inside, right? And I would like something I can work out in. And I would like something I can wear to the most interesting bar in town without standing out."
"The King himself wears normal clothes, made by the head of my guild. His son, Prince Martin, wears styles similar to your clothes. Princes and high Lords have a great deal of freedom from protocol, because they are often in or out from foreign places."
"Hey, what's the most interesting bar in town? I'm asking everyone so I can triangulate."
"There are lots of drinking and gambling places in the city below. The sailors have their bars in the docksides, the people from Amber have drinking places near their area. I'd say the biggest private drinking club is Miss Scarlett's Place. Young Lord Maximus, who is your cousin, is the child of Miss Scarlett, so they have royal connections. They say the King likes it, as well. But as a Lord, you can probably find someone to take you on a tour of the drinking establishments and it would happen. Lord Winter might be a good person to start with."
"Also none of this should be tight. Like, I want to be able to do a split in all of it without ruining your work."
Feldspar takes note of his requests, as well as his current attire. "We can either make something gusseted like your trousers or we go with the classic doublet and hose. Do you have colors you prefer? I'll fetch several options. A codpiece will cover all sorts of sins. Fabric-related sins."
"Yeah, gussets will go a long way, and as much baggy as you can get away with before people think it looks weird. I won't do anything that'll actually rip seams, I promise."
Alex spends a little while going into specifics. Feldspar might accurately tag him as an amateur in the field, but one who knows how clothing works and has had to mend his own gear more than once.
"Colors, I don't know.... I like blue a lot. So there are docks? Docks are cool... hey, can you tell me where Delta's suite is? Uh, I guess Lady Delta? Wow."
"Blue it shall be. There are indeed docks, although many ships anchor in the harbor and have their cargo brought in. It depends on the keep depth of the vehicle. And if the captain wants to deal with stevedores or longshore workers." She points out the door. "At the end of this hall is a window that looks out over the waterfall. At the bottom of the falls is the lagoon that acts as our harbor.
"The court is informal, Your Grace, and if you aren't called Lord Alex, you'll get called 'Your Grace'. There are some other Lords, who are mostly friends of the King. All members of your family are given deference due to being related to the King. It was the way it was in Amber as well.
"Other than clothes for dinner and enough clothes to go to a bar later, is there anything else you need? Do you have clothes you're comfortable in on horseback?" She assumes Lord Alex can ride.
"No," says Alex. "I mean, I can't ride."
He blinks. "Yet, I guess. I don't know, I bet ring gear works pretty well for a horse, same athletic principle. Big things full of muscles that don't always do what you want them to do? That's my last feud... sorry, that probably doesn't make sense.
"So sure, horse-ridey clothing, that'd be super. But that's it. I think mostly now I need a bit of time to myself to think about, you know, everything changing all of a sudden."
There's a bit of sarcasm in tha "super," which slipped in there unconsciously. He's still smiling, though. Solid facade.
"You would hardly be the first member of your family who doesn't make sense, Lord Alex." She smiles, slyly. She may actually have a sense of humor, after all.
She lays out clothes for him, gathers her things, and heads off to see what she can possibly manage to put together for him. Possibly some of Gerard's hand-me-downs.
Once Feldspar makes her escape from yet another frantic uninitiated cousin's room, Alex will gird his loins -- figuratively and literally -- and make a break for the hallway with the intention of seeking out Delta's abode.
The pages in the halls point the way to Delta's quarters, which are on a slightly different hall and down a staircase from Alex's. He passes windows on his way and sees the absolutely stunning waterfall that the castle is beside. Beside because the castle is apparently on a ledge between two halves of a giant double waterfall.
Captain Pen makes the acquaintance of Selena, a page that escorts her to her new quarters at Xanadu. Pen keenly notes Selena's age and explains its significance in the culture of Pontus. Amazons begin their rites of passage when they're young and those rites continue and evolve over time. Selena explains how she came to Xanadu, and how much she enjoys her work here. She tells Pen that she's been charged to introduce the Captain to a skilled seamstress that will help to put together clothing that will be comfortable. She adds that this person is her older sister, Makavi.
When they reach the room, Makavi is already waiting patiently and busily working on a needlepoint of colorful Spring flowers. Selena makes formal introductions and Pen thanks her for her kindness. Pen is respectful and does not speak down to Selena in any way. "I would ask one last favor of you, Page Selena. Earlier I was speaking with a page named Gryphon that I promised to teach how to shoot a bow. I would be in your debt if you could find Gryphon and pass along my intent to keep that promise in an hour. They will need to requisition a bow, and some arrows their size, but I'm certain we can find some space for target practice. You are, of course, welcome to join us if you like. If you'd rather learn the knife, the sword or the spear, I can ably teach those weapons as well. Custom dictates that I'm in your debt for your good service. Also, I need all the friends that I can trust."
Selena smiles. "Thank you, I will consider your kind offer, and talk it over with my sister."
As Selena leaves to find Gryphon, Pen is apologetic for the delay and grateful for Makavi's patience. The garments that she wore most often were a himaton and a peplos, and she draws them on a piece of paper to explain. She explains that years ago she had a good friend that used to make her clothing for her. This friend would also help at celebrations to paint her lips with beeswax and jewelers rouge, and darken her eyes with olive oil and charcoal. Pen boasts that she can fight her way through a dozen soldiers, but has no skill at all with fashion or beauty or courtly conversations. The dances she knows are traditional to her people, many are lively, some are solemn, and a few are even easy to teach. She fears that in order to be able to comport herself in this new situation, she'll need to have people that can help her to learn how. Pen is surprisingly candid and vulnerable with Makavi.
Makavi's smile is much like her sister's. "Those of rank are allowed to be eccentric, Lady Penthelisea. The older servants tell us that Princess Dierdre took a battle-ax to the final battle of the war. Sir Robin dresses as a man and calls herself by her knightly title and no one says a word. Not because no one notices, but because she is the King's niece."
Pen nods. "I think I would've very much enjoyed meeting Princess Deirdre. I didn't realize Ranger Robin was Sir Robin. Thank you! I must remember that when next I see her."
"That being said, if you want to be fashionable, I can help. I'd probably prefer to give you a style, as fashion requires attention to changing detail and you have other needs. It will take me a few days to make you something like a peplos. It's not something we just have in the stockrooms."
"Understood. I am not asking an easy thing, and I thank you for your pains on my behalf and I trust your skill and taste. I won't forget your efforts, and if I can reward them in some way, I shall."
Pen proceeds to remove her armor and neatly lay it down in her quarters. There is a strong instinct to clean the armor and weapons right away, more a soldier's habit, but she promises to address it properly first thing in the morning, and at length.
Makavi asks to take her measurements and produces a several pieces of string, which Makavi puts around her and then deftly cuts. She puts those strings in a pouch and offers to draw Pen a bath.
Just the idea of a bath causes Pen to smile and laugh like a child. She quickly and gratefully assents her desire for a bath. She removes her remaining clothing with the immodesty of her native upbringing and quickly slips into the warm bath. She loses the ability to speak for a minute or two as she can't exactly remember the last time she was afforded this luxury.
"What do you think of cuffs or bracelets? Maybe brass or silver? They would need to be large enough to fit my arms, but it would honor my culture and I like how they look."
Makavi nods. "We can come up with something. I think a wide and tight design would be best with the peplos, especially if you aren't used to wearing loose bracelets."
Pen agrees, "We will need a blacksmith." She looks wistful for a moment, "I had a friend in my later childhood, once my bully, but we got past all that. Her name was Aristomache - terrific fighter and strong as a cyclops - and her mother was a brilliant blacksmith. I still remember the scent of her forge - billowing smoke and blazing fire, bronze and iron, the blustery wind of the bellows, and the cleansing smell of burning sweetgrass stoking the fire and the hammer hitting red-hot metal." Pen smiles and sighs, "Risto's mother was very kind to me, especially after my mother left. She made my first spear and breastplate. Saved my life a dozen times."
Makavi will have fresh clothes for Pen by the time the bath is finished.
Pen is grateful beyond measure for Makavi's kindness. She remembers the time after her childhood accident, being frail and having to rely on the healers and her friends for a long time before she recovered. She swore to never take any kindness done for her for granted.
"Do you want clothes you can fight in, My Lady?"
"Oh yes, Friend Makavi, I think you've truly taken the measure of me in a short time. I would like that very much. Something that is elegant, but also doesn't impede full motion in the arms and hips. Maybe a hidden sheath for a knife?"
"It's a matter of listening, Lady Penthelisea."
"I appreciate the respect, Makavi, but if I'm going to continue to ask favors of you (and that seems very likely), I'm going to have to insist that when it's just you and me that you call me Pen. You can actually call me Pen any time you like, but I assume you may be expected to use some form of etiquette around us."
Not having washed her hair in some time, Pen gets frustrated with it quickly. "I think I'm in need of a change," she says. "Makavi, what do you think of shaving the sides? The physician in Arden already had to shave away some when she tending to my wounds. I shaved the sides when I was younger and it was always cooler in the warmer months."
"I will send for a barber if you wish to have it shaved."
"You're already proving indispensable! Yes, I would like that. Thank you! Best if we can address this before dinner if that's possible. I know that's short notice."
Come to think of that - Pen carefully removes her bandages to take a look in a mirror at her left eye and see how the colorful bruising is coming along.
Pen has always healed faster than anyone she knows. The bruising has already come along from blue-purple to a fascinating shade of ugly yellow. It should be hard to see by morning, although it might still be a bit tender to the touch.
"A hundred blessings of Hygeia on Medic Sherrell. She does good work." Even as the words escape her lips, Pen knows that there's more to this than the speedy attention of a good field medic.
Makavi returns while she's looking in the mirror.
"I can cover that with makeup, if you wish," Kavi says. She's not particularly bothered by the sight of the bruising. "I brought several simple dresses and some clothes int he style of Sir Robin and Lady Brita. These are just for a few days while we make your clothes in your style. I may need to do some small adjustments, but that's why I am here, My Lady."
"It's vanity, I suppose, but if you can cover the bruising, I would appreciate that. Normally, I would show off my battle scars, but today is a very different day."
Kavi picks up a brush and a jar of -- something. "I can, somewhat. It won't be gone, but it won't draw attention to itself. She proceeds to cover the bruising up. "You were in a fight, in the forest? They always tell us it's dangerous, and I guess they're right."
There are 4-5 outfits, as described. They are well suited to Pen's coloration, although none of them would be common in Pontus.
Pen picks one outfit in the style of Sir Robin.
Robin and therefore Pen have practical forest clothes made of leather. These may actually be from Sir Robin's wardrobe. It's warmer and more tightly fitting than what Pen normally wears in Pontus, but it almost fits.
Kavi looks critically at the outfit. "We'll pin it up so that it fits. Don't be too athletic in it, or it'll come undone. This should have some slashing to be a proper doublet, and a colorful tunic." She hands Pen the tunic and takes a pair of scissors and makes several strategic cuts in the body of the doublet.
"Now it's not quite so anonymous. And you can always wear a brown shirt with it if you need to blend in with the wood lands."
Having gotten Pen dressed and ready for public appearances, Kavi gathers up her things. "Do you need anything else? I'll send for Selena if you need her."
Pen wishes Kavi a good night and thanks her for all her help. While waiting for the barber to arrive, Pen sends a message by page to the castle's vintner. She had given recipes earlier to a page for a quantity of two requested drinks - posca, a simple sour wine staple of the amazons, mixed with water and herbs (hard to get drunk on), and Aphrodite's Grace, a delicious blend of favorite wines, fruits and specific herbs (more powerful, but not overpowering). The message is to see if they were able to make the Grace, and if so could it be sent to Pen's room?
They've sent to the town below to see what can be acquired, and in the mean time sent local drinks to her. It will take a few hours to procure the supplies.
Pen intends to have the sides of her hair shaved by the barber (too much hair gets in the way and it's been growing long for a while now), find Page Gryphon at an appointed time to teach them proper form for archery (not using her bow) and target practice, and potentially enjoying a libation or two, preferably not by herself. She would welcome the company of her new cousins, Ranger Sir Robin or Goddess Brita.
The stables are freestanding and, while there is adequate room for the horses, they are near the lake. Xanadu Castle's lake is fed by a waterfall from above and departs the plateau in a waterfall dropping into the bay below, although far from the harbor. It's quite a sight, and not particularly quiet. When the sunlight hits it properly it gleams like gold.
Gryphon is out by the stables a the appointed time, along with a bowyer from the guard. She bows. "Lady Pentheleisa, I am told you wish to teach your page to shoot. I have a small selection of bows and, of course, there is a papingo as a target by the lake."
The bows are English longbow style, with varying pulls. The bows available include some that only Pen could manage.
Pen quickly evaluates the bows and selects one that Gryphon can easily manage and grabs a quiver of arrows. She thanks the bowyer for their help, and happily walks with Gryphon to the lake. She talks about when she first learned how to shoot the bow. She had three different teachers, much older, more experienced, and very patient. Pen asks about Gryphon's day and wants to know more about them.
At the lake, Pen begins by demonstrating proper stance: Don't lean forward or back, back straight, legs relaxed, but not bent, knees in line with the feet, and feet about shoulder length apart, weight evenly distributed, and relax. Pen smoothly draws an arrow, notches it, breathes and shoots. It strikes the target.
She hands the bow to Gryphon and ties the quiver to them, then kneels down to help correct their positioning. Pen adds new direction - raise the bow and aim it at the target, grip the string without moving your torso, draw the string back without turning your head, rotate the elbow if it's at an angle other than horizontal otherwise you'll hurt yourself. Keep the elbow straight and the arm horizontal. Breathe and then let loose the arrow.
Pen is an encouraging and patient teacher and enjoys time spent sharing what she knows. She answers questions and happily demonstrates anything archery-related. She encourages Gryphon to practice and promises she will make time for them in the future if she's around and they want company and critique on their form. She says that archery is a skill worth honing because you never know when you might be called upon to defend yourself and your friends, and she says it like she's lived it.
Also, when they head back to the barn she's curious what Gryphon thinks of her new hairstyle and Sir-Robinesque fashion.
Gryphon thinks it is just fine, and sort of suits Pen. Most sailors and soldier of Amber wear their hair shorter, regardless of gender. Lots of places are different, though. And Xanadu is a trading port. There's almost no custom that hasn't come through. Fashion in Xanadu is dizzyingly fast. It reminds her of Amber.
Eventually Gryphon needs to go back to the castle.
She gives Gryphon a big hug, congratulates them on their skill, wishes them a good night, and heads back to her rooms to sample the local libations provided. She acknowledges this was a distraction, but a worthwhile one.
Pen returns to her rooms and there are excellent local libations, including wines, ciders and meads, and something which is probably the local version of beer. Pen thinks some of this has been imported to Pontus for royal feasts, but it's not something she's ever had a lot of.
Pen ponders with her feet up and swirling a wine glass in one hand. If she's going to risk her life attempting this ordeal, she wants to talk to someone that's successfully achieved it.
Pen grabs a sizable bottle of one of the smoother alcohols, her glass, and an extra because that's how you make friends, and leaves her rooms. She begins wandering, trusting in her luck to find someone interesting to talk with.
The place is, appropriately, built like a palace, which is to say that there are opulent public and family spaces and rather less opulent servants halls and quarters.
The public hallways and galleries are lined with art, many of which are full-sized paintings of people who may have been dead for centuries. A surprising number of them have musical instruments, though. Eventually Pen wanders to a corridor with an open door at the end and a large anteroom lined with books and overstuffed chairs. There's an older man in some sort of formal robe walking around straightening. He doesn't look at all like the pages. "Yes? Do you need something from the Library, Miss?" He's definitely looking at her bottle, but not in an "I'd like to drink with you" way.
Pen blushes. "You must excuse me, sir. I haven't been called 'miss' very often. It's a hole in Amazonian culture, I think. Perhaps it's because we're very good at hitting things that we found the term derogatory." There's a pause and an apologetic look. "Sorry, I had some diplomatic education about the manners of other cultures, and that's where I came across it." There is a sudden, brief explosive belch from Pen, which is followed by a look of surprise, a subtle smile of relief, but nothing approaching shame. "Excuse me," she recovers, "I have underestimated the potency of my traveling companion," she says, as she points to the ornate bottle gripped in her right hand.
"You seem a decent sort of fellow and I don't want to trouble you, but I was recently made aware that I'm related to King Random and his family, which is nice, and I understand there's a kind of potentially lethal family ordeal that new relatives get to endure in order to prove their parentage and come into a kind of birthright. I was wondering if you could direct me to a person or maybe even a book by someone who's gone through this thing and could provide some advice?"
Pen is doing her level best to be amiable and charming in a toasted bohemian sort of way. She finds it easy to talk to soldiers, even men, but she has little to no experience with male scholars or librarians.
"I am Nestor, the librarian--" which explains the fierce look at the drink "--and while I am generally in the confidence of your family, the matter you discuss is specific to the Family." He definitely capitalizes that F. "There are no written books about it. You would have to talk to someone who has undergone it and, I am given to understand, there are limits to what the Family can or will say to those who have not tried it yet.
"One of the Princesses--the younger ones--did say the ordeal was different for each person, and that she never intended to do it again after the first time." A wave of emotion passes across his face and his glasses to do not hide it.
"I appreciate your patience and candor, Librarian Nestor." Pen stretches and unwinds her left shoulder in a broad gesture, with the parabola of her elbow in a wide arc, ending in a small pop.
"It's a curious thing, I've been witness to terrible things, traveling by myself, and acting in the name of my Queen, and my people. And in the space of just a few days, my whole life changed when I encountered this Family." Pen surprises herself as emotion wells up in her eyes. "I am, and have been since my childhood, a creature of sorority, and sometimes excess. My sisters and I fought against many invaders in our time and spent long days in practice for battle. We also studied, sang, learned music and art, debated philosophy and observed science; we honored our goddesses, and on occasion drank sweet libations and howled at the moon, dancing naked to the thrum of our own pounding hearts."
Pen's tears turn into an embarrassing sob. "I miss my sisters, Librarian Nestor. I miss them all, dearly." And a little quieter, "I miss my love, Chiroppe."
She lets out a small laugh to deflect, "I apologize, my friend. I underestimated the potency of the drink. This portion of inebriation usually comes later in the evening after feats of strength or wild revels." Pen makes every effort to compose herself and finally succeeds.
"I will take my leave of you, good Nestor. I have one last favor to ask. I expect you may be familiar with the many paintings in these halls..." Pen reaches into a pouch and withdraws a beautiful disc of polished brass that never leaves her possession. As she flips it, a flat smooth stone is visible with a marvelous painting of her mother, Myrina.
"This is unlikely, but perhaps you've seen this woman on canvas or in books?"
"She's not one of the royals that I know, but ask Lady Hannah, Lady Solange, or Sir Robin," Nestor suggests. "Because a tall woman like that, with breadth of shoulders like that, seems like she ought to be related to their mother, Princess Ysabeau. Princess Ysabeau is dead now, but if there are other children, her daughters might know, or her two full brothers, Prince Gerard and Prince Julian."
"That's a good start, and certainly more than I already knew. I've already shown it to Sir Robin and Prince Julian and neither recognized her, but I will seek out Ladies Hannah and Solange and perhaps Prince Gerard." She puts down the bottle carefully, then clasps Nestor's hand. "You've been very helpful, friend Nestor. I won't forget your kindness. Do you know where I might find Lady Solange or Lady Hannah or Prince Gerard?
"Oh, and one last thing, is there a gymnasium nearby?"
Nestor's voice takes on a sort of classroom lecturing tone that Pen guesses might be a habit of his. "The closest thing we have to a proper gymnasium is the salle, where the royal family practices weapons. There's been some talk of setting up an archery range but that hasn't been finalized. And there's a communal bath as well, should you desire to bathe in company.
"As for where any given member of the royal family is--the best thing is to ask a page. Prince Gerard can often be found in his suite outside of meals with the family, unless he's standing in as Regent. Lady Hannah is most likely to be in the infirmary or in her quarters; she is well, but she is trained as a doctor and has a very young infant. And Lady Solange is in and out, mostly out right now, for reasons that you might do better to hear from one of the Princes, or from her very good friend Dr Suon in the infirmary. Is there anything else I can do for you, Lady?"
Pen smiles. "Thank you, no. That's plenty to start with. I think I shall call upon Lady Hannah. Be well, Librarian Nestor." She bows her head. She makes a small mental note, adding the word "salle" into her vocabulary and assuming it's of foreign origin.
Thinking of that, she looks about at any obvious writing (placards under paintings, etc.) to see if she recognizes the language.
Inscriptions are going to be in Thari unless the art is from somewhere abroad. This early in Random's reign, it's not like they have a whole lot of foreign art, so almost everything will have its inscription in Thari.
Pen heads towards the Infirmary, a process which is reinforced by asking a page to direct her when she comes across one.
If the door to the infirmary is closed, when she finds it, she will firmly knock. "I'm looking for Lady Hannah, the Physician."
A page leads Pen to the correct door.
Last modified: 21 July 2021