Having left Rein with instructions, at some point Jerod manages to find time to speak to Eleftherios.
This can be done either summary or in detail, based on the GM's requirements:
Jerod discusses the trade situation with Eleftherios and that they are almost ready to depart. Should he have anything he wishes to add before Jerod and company take off, this is the time to do it I should think.
Eleftherios has a few questions and comments, but Jerod is able to deal with them all easily. There is nothing in the conversation that Jerod feels unready to answer after his briefing from Rein.
Jerod will answer the questions with suitable promptness, pausing to delay answers only when he needs to be sure as to the question that was asked and that he has the right information.
Jerod will also put forward to idea of an exchange of ambassadors. Jerod is a general ambassador and will not serve in a specific post, and King Corwin will be certain to arrange to send someone very shortly, depending of course on Lord Eleftherios' feelings on the matter.
Jerod is curious to know if Eleftherios is interested, but does not say that he will transport someone to Paris. He wants to get an idea as to whether Westport's lord is interested and who he might send, and therefore potentially how dangerous they might be, before he decides to agree or not. If Jerod doesn't like the proferred candidate, Jerod can always say that he will be more than pleased to return to the King to submit Eleftherios' recommendations - this gives Jerod his "out" if he should so need it.
Eleftherios does indeed suggest Ctesippus' cousin, one Hipparchos, for the position. He can arrange a luncheon the next day for Jerod to meet Hipparchos.
Jerod indicates that would be quite good.
Once departed from the office, Jerod tracks down Ctesippus to question him thoroughly on his cousin and his credentials (and background). Jerod takes Ctesippus with him on a check of the local shipping while questioning, keeping him moving and a bit busy so he can hit him with questions and not give him too much time to think on his answers and avoid possible inconsistencies.
Jerod is careful to note any inconsistencies but does not press them right away unless they are significantly glaring (ie: his cousin did something clearly impossible or outrageous based on other comments).
Any inconsistencies in Ctesippus' stories of his cousin and any discrepancies between Ctesippus' version of events and stories Jerod has heard from others are easily accounted for by the vagaries of memory or differences in opinion between the storytellers.
Hipparchos is, of course, a magus.
Not surprising. Let's see how he handles himself during the luncheon. Jerod's not automatically opposed to the idea of bringing someone back, but Corwin also didn't mention "wanting" someone either. If Jerod gets any inkling that this guy is questionnable...well, we'll see...:)
Eleftherios arranges a small luncheon for Jerod to meet Hipparchos , as previously discussed. The guests are Jerod, Hipparchos, and Ctesippus.
This is Jerod's first formal occasion since he has arrived in Gateway. As a working trade envoy rather than a permanent ambassador, he was permitted to escape the formalities normally associated with presentation of credentials: court, banquets, and the like. Today's meal seems to be an effort to make up for that.
When he arrives, the couches are arranged in the Rebman style for Eleftherios and his guests to dine. Hipparchos, who is probably a decade or two younger than Jerod, and his cousin Ctesippus, are already present.
Eleftherios makes the introductions, and the four men are ready to set down to dine. Hipparchos and Eleftherios let Jerod choose the topic of conversation.
Upon arriving, Jerod provides a Rebman greeting of thanks to his honoured guests, one that would be suitable for a royal court but with just enough variance in it to take into account Gateway philosophies.
(the advantage of having an exceptional but zero point talent in protocol, the character doesn't usually screw up (unlike the player)...:)
After a short break to allow his host to expound or make necessary statements, Jerod inquires as to the layout of the furniture and whether either of the two wizards have been to his grandmother's kingdom.
"Ah, yes, before the wars," Eleftherios says. "We keep to the country ways out here. Rebma has been a trading partner of Gateway's for many years, before even Amber, and sometimes we follow the Rebman fashions in formality. Lord Rein mentioned in passing that your mother was from Rebma, so I thought you might enjoy dining after the fashion of her country."
Jerod smiles his appreciation. "It is always good to be reminded of home."
This information makes sense of some of Rein's observations.
Hipparchos says, "I never had a chance to visit before the way closed, but I have always heard that it was an excellent place to visit. As, I am sure, is Paris."
"You will find great differences in each." Jerod replies. "Paris is a new and vibrant kingdom and King Corwin has made great strides in reaching outward to other kingdoms. Rebma, however, is as old as Amber and more than mysterious enough should one have the desire to explore her past. Her connections with other kingdoms is equal to that of Amber. Both environment can carry an element of risk when first venturing into them.
"Yet the same basic condition exists - opportunity for those wise enough to recognize when the circumstance presents itself." Jerod says, focussing a bland expression on Hipparchos, the kind his mother would use when testing Jerod in his youth, never showing her real leanings but ready to pounce at the first sign of hesitation, an incorrect answer, a foolish mistake.
"What opportunities do you see presenting themselves in your future?"
Hipparchos considers his answer for a moment before speaking. He doesn't look to either Eleftherios or Ctesippus for cues. "I am told that the position of envoy to Paris may be open, but if you're asking for a comparison, Ambassador, either would have its advantages. Rebma is older and more mysterious, and has a reputation for access to magics that even Gateway would envy, but my sex, like your own, would serve me less well there than in other places. I am also given to understand that position and family rank are matters of high importance there. A posting to Paris, by contrast, represents a different kind of opportunity, as you suggest, particularly for a young man, one whose vigor and enthusiasm surpass his birth, connections, and titles."
His return smile to Jerod is equally bland. "I flatter myself that I would be able seize whatever opportunity came my way and use it to the best advantage of Gateway and Westport on the one hand and of the kingdom to which I was posted on the other."
Blandness in expression on topics that can be sensitive. Recognition of the general environmental parameters in an analytical fashion, without emphasis on a particular focus that might serve to act as a filter, or a blinder. And humor...always a necessity in a social position.
So...what choice does he make? Dithering in commitee or in hope of an absolute answer never works...you never get an absolute answer. Choice is the price that comes with being independent, being in command. It's the price that is paid. If you make a good choice, well, all that better then.
Jerod smiles more openly. "Then I look forward to presenting you to his majesty, my uncle, in Paris upon our arrival."
Hipparchos' smile grows open, too. "I look forward to meeting him, Ambassador, and to a long and fruitful relationship between our nations."
Ctesippus grins hugely and Eleftherios looks somewhat relieved as he calls for the meal to begin.
Always good to keep the mages guessing...:)
The fleet of trading vessels is prepared according to Jerod's instructions, as conveyed through Rein. Agreements are made, factions chosen to balance each other and provide the best advantage to Corwin, and cargoes are loaded. Hipparchos readies himself and his embassy with assistance from Eleftherios.
[If you've got anything else to do before Jerod leaves Gateway, this is the moment. Otherwise, you can take Jerod to sea and start his way to Paris, with emphasis on forging the path.]
There is nothing else to be done at this time that would be do-able without breaking the thread built to this point.
Jerod's emphasis will definitely be on forging the path through shadow, taking care to ensure that it will be as stable as possible. He remembers from the last experience how extremely unpleasant it was to do, but as Corwin had indicated, going from the shadow to the place of reality is the way to go, so we hang on that little detail when adversity strikes.
[*much research in the archives* *math* *card draw*: Inspiration, which is as good as you got last time.]
Jerod still can't push things hard enough to get a straight path laid, but he will be able to do it with only four hops this time. (For those keeping score, it was 16 hops last time.) The path, like the Bellum path, will last a year and need to be shored up--but it's a damn sight stronger than the Bellum path and Jerod is much more confident of the work he's done.
Since the number of hops is so much shorter, the time will be much shorter, too. 8 weeks to sail into the harbor at the mouth of the Seine to transfer goods and men to barges upriver.
[Congratulations! You're now so far ahead that you can be one of the first people Martin and Folly talk to when they get to talking to other people!]
"How do you mourn someone you do not know?" Jerod asked himself as he sat upon the foredeck of the ship, the first rays of dawn approaching. The few morning crew moved about their business a distance behind him, the change of the watch not yet ready to commence. They would not bother him with the forward area roped off to allow him time to prepare for the memorial ritual.
The captain had not asked for his reasons for the area required, but merely nodded when Jerod had informed him of his need for a space to conduct an activity early in the morning. A few words to the bosun and a mate and the preparations were ready.
But Jerod was not.
He studied the contents of the memorial package carefully. He knew the meaning of all the items contained within, having used them a number of times in the past. Yet the very nature of them somehow always seemed to give him pause.
So many things of life that no longer lived lay beneath his fingers as he touched shells and conches, dried fronds and sea-weed petals, shark scales and whale-bone. Each was taken from the sea, from that which gave life and which demanded its due after death. Half a hundred items not counting the precious stones of the chimneys, the deep-water volcanic vents that belched forth their toxic gases and lava to reveal hidden treasures.
He picked up an obsidian pearl, rolled it between his fingers and watched as the light of the morning caused the metallic flecks in the interior to glisten. A deep-diver risked much to collect this by braving the pressure, the gas and lava. All to collect a small globe of glass fused under tremendous pressure with tiny flakes of metal rusted from the surface of the lava pooling up from beneath the fractured earth. Usually there were no more than a few pieces worth using from the black slag collected. Yet those pieces could command a handsome sum.
Jerod wondered for a moment at what could make them so valuable. He knew of course for some it was their scarcity. They were difficult to obtain and anything pretty and rare always has its admirers. But there was more he knew. He could find such stones by the tonne if he so chose and far easier than diving to the ocean's depths. No - it was the struggle that made them special. It was the risk taken to acquire them that made them more valuable than gold even to him. To give this to the dead was to offer a sacrifice equal in value. Not many would put these in the pouch to offer to family.
He placed the pearl to one side next to a small collection of items already chosen. Things of life and beauty though it would take one attuned to nature to see the beauty in some of what he had chosen. All things that are truth are beautiful Jerod remembered. And life is always truth. It's nature does not allow it to be anything else.
How do you pick for someone you do not know? Again Jerod shook his head. You cannot. The universe does not permit it. Only the hypocrites can convince themselves that they truly mourn those they have never known. The demand of a connection is paramount for it is the loss of that connection that is what brings forth pain. And Jerod did not know Daeon. There is no loss. There is no pain.
He picked up the clipped seaweed petal, turned it over gently in his fingers. Dried and pressed, seaweed served so many functions. Food, clothing, medicine, building material...even art. It was forever around you, even when you did not realize it. Like family. He placed it carefully with the other pieces.
What would Julian be doing now? He would show little of his emotions to anyone, even his own children though Jerod was sure they would see something. But his focus first and foremost would be on family, whether protecting or avenging it. Gain or personal benefit would not factor into the equation that was Julian. If it did, Julian would not have stood and spoken for his father when he did. There was nothing to gain by speaking in favor. None of the others spoke, and Jerod remembered.
"So why weren't you there?" Jerod heard himself ask.
"Because I had other duties to attend to." he said in reply.
"Is it not your duty to be there?" the voice asked.
"If greater duties permit. Currently they do not." Jerod said. "I promised a path."
"The others will think you don't care." the voice insinuated
"I care little what the others think of me." Jerod commented. "Most of them know me not. Barely a few have an inkling otherwise."
"He will think you do not care." it says.
"This should rectify that perception." Jerod answered.
"Why should he believe what you offer?" it asked.
"Because I am my father's son." Jerod says flatly. "And my mother's son. I always keep my promises."
"Jerod, you need to be still." Rilsa said. "You know not to fidget."
"Yes, mother." Jerod replied, tried his best to stand still despite his boredom. He looked up at his mother for a moment as she watched the procession pass by, her expression one of grave and solemn respect for the funeral entourage that passed before them.
"Did you remember to bring the packet that Lamell gave you?" she asked.
"Yes, mother. I have it." he answered, looked down at the black wrapped packet. Lamell had opened it briefly to show to him, described the items that were inside and how they would be used to represent his token of respect.
"Good. Be sure to offer it just after I do." she said.
He nodded, looked at the packet. "Mother, why do I need to give to the dead?" he asked. "I never knew Lady Consiliu."
"She has been an honored friend for some time." Rilsa replied. "But she has not been available for some time due to her illness. She was there when you were born though."
Jerod frowned. "I never saw her. How do I know what to do or say if I never saw her?"
"You don't. But it's not expected that you should. You offer respect because she was important to our family." Rilsa replied patiently.
"Grandmother does not offer a packet." Jerod noted.
"Your grandmother is the Queen and cannot do so, both by tradition and common sense. To offer a packet to a specific individual not of her immediate family, she would appear to be providing support to one of the Shells. Instead she will speak her offering of condolences, as is the custom." Rilsa said, watched as Jerod learned another snippet concerning Court life, nodded to himself.
"Did you know her?" Jerod asked.
Rilsa shook her head. "Not directly, but her daughter Lady Constans is a friend. She mourns for her mother and so I mourn with her."
"But you did not know her." Jerod asked again, his tone a touch more insistent.
"One does not need to know someone if they are gone to know of their loss. You will empathize." Rilsa replied.
"But you won't *mourn*." Jerod says, his words focussed now.
She turned slightly to look at him, the intensity of his words piquing her curiousity. "No, I could not mourn for Lady Consiliu." she admitted after a moment. "Why do you ask?"
Jerod looked around, paused to start to speak but then stopped to try to find the right words. "All these people here...it seems so impossible that they could know her." he said as his hand motioned to the mass of people on the rock ledges and outcrops, watched as the entourage moved to the sea cliff edge where the orcas waited with their handlers to ferry the body to the peaks for its final rest. "No one knows that many people."
Rilsa nodded. "You're right, no one does."
"Then why are there so many?" he asked
"Some are here because they did know her. She was a friend or family member and they will miss her dearly. Her daughter is one of those. Others because they are dutifully respectful of those who made a contribution to our people and kingdom, as I hope you would be respectful." she said, a reminder of his duties.
She motioned next to the upper hilltops and slopes of the sea cliff above them. "Others are here because they are curious, wanting to know if those in power die the same way that they do, even if our bodies are disposed of in a more fashionable way. They yearn to see the grief that grips the mighty and powerful, just as it does for the weak and powerless. Perhaps they wish to know we are human like them. Perhaps they wish to see us brought down a few pegs.
"Finally there are those who are here to be seen, to show the appearance of respect while trying to advance themselves. They will be numerous as I'm sure you'll recognize." Rilsa said, motioned barely towards several courtiers, well known for their fawning behaviour to any who choose to pay attention to them.
Jerod nodded. "Which category do you fit into?"
"I'm not sure." Rilsa said after a moment's thought. "Perhaps a little of the first two." and Jerod frowned.
"I did not know her well, but I know her daughter." Rilsa explained. "I could not truly say that she was a friend, yet the influence of her life was and remains upon me. I know her daughter and thus I know her mourning. The loss of her mother will shape her, and my friend will not be as she once was. She must face the burden of mourning herself. I would hope to ease that burden, even if only a little."
She looked down at him for a moment. "One day you will also face this burden for someone who you respect and like. Which category shall you be in?"
With the pouch firmly held in his left hand, Jerod took up the weighted lure of line and fish, the noise maker to attract his messenger and began to twirl it over his head, letting the line slip out to a greater arc. The sound of the lure began to make its distinct whirring sound as the speed of the circling motion increased. He let his body slip into the monotony of the work, using it as a focus as he start to put the probabilities together.
An osprey would the one to come to him, a magnificent animal of white and earth brown feathering, a hunter of the sea but for whom the land was no stranger. Jerod smiled for a moment at the thought. A fitting emissary - a proud, angry hunter. The osprey cared little for those not of its own world but it guarded vigilantly those who are its family. It would come to collect the package that Jerod would proffer and carry it to its destination, to Amber and the Arden, to find the Warden of that place and deliver his message.
Minutes passed as the probabilities slipped together, becoming an hour, then two, as Jerod sifted the journey in his mind, letting it become part of what he foresee happening to the messenger, feeling for wind and waves, cloud patterns and sunlight, the change of green and blue as the land and water warred for possession of his messenger's vision.
So unlike the hellride this was. Now there was no tiny focus upon a single element, a color or shape. Now the demand of the journey was upon him. To layout the journey in the greatest detail. This would allow his messenger the gift of travel to Julian, for Jerod could not go now. Julian would recognize the effort required to undertake such a task, and hopefully he would recognize the message as well.
The crew now watched openly as they went about their duties to the sound of the lure. The wind and spray of occasional waves did not disturb Jerod, nor the sweat of his brow. Time was a tool, a way to allow the focus to take shape.
The cry of the bird as it flew into view brought Jerod out of his semi-trance, his facial expression blank for the moment with the focus of concentration still dominating. He continued to swing the lure to bring the bird closer until he could see it clearly. Quickly he drew the lure in and pulled back from the gunwale, giving the bird room to gracefully land. The sounds of the crew as they muttered behind him made the bird cock its head and the predator hissed defiantly at the Men that dared travel in its realm. That action made Jerod smile now and he collected his small packet, now properly tied with its note of condolence contained within. He affixed it carefully to a leg before looking at the bird, watched it return his gaze solidly before it launched itself into the air.
"Fly well and true, messenger of mine." Jerod whispered. "Fly swiftly with heart's intent. Let nothing impede your path."
"Are there any of the mocha berries left?" Hipparchos asks as he picks through the plate of fruit sitting on the table in Jerod's cabin.
"I'm afraid you polished those off two days ago." Jerod says, carefully making notations in the rutter, describing the water colour, the wind and wave action of the last day, cloud banks and scents. Every detail that came to him, both during the formation of the path's creation and the actual journey. The record of the passage would serve well to help new captains guide their ships on the path, and give Jerod more focus when it became necessary to re- strengthen it.
"A pity." Hipparchos replies. "They were quite good. That coral atoll was quite suitably positioned. Good water, food stocks, even ocean-going natives who traded amongst their own islands and were interested in trade and selling supplies."
"The last part is the important bit. Two weeks per leg of our journey is sufficient to make crews a bit slower for lack of fresh food and water. Especially when most of their cargo space will be laden with goods instead of supplies for exploration." Jerod says, finishing his notation and drying the ink. "Thankfully, though the trip is a bit long, that can be corrected in the future."
"It can?" Hipparchos asks. "How?"
Jerod smiles. "An ancient family secret. Actually, good navigation and some luck."
"Curious that you would say that." his guest muses. "It has been an interesting journey and our ports of call have been...exotic, to say the least."
"The crew does not seem to consider them unusual."
"The crew has experience in travelling to the many trading partners that Amber and Gateway have possessed. I merely mentioned that there seemed to be no pattern to the places we landed for replenishment." Hipparchos says as he selects a guava type fruit, peeling back the bitter outer shell to reveal the fruit within.
"A traditional coastal town in a temperature climate, with fisherman and trappers and wives with children tending fields and led by a woman..." Hipparchos begins.
"Uriel." Jerod says, filling in the name, thinking of her face. Slim, dark haired and strong willed.
"She seemed to take quite a liking to you." Hipparchos says. "You spent quite a bit of time at her home."
"Negotiations can often take a great deal of time but the rewards are usually more than worth it." Jerod offers.
"But we traded for our supplies on the first day, and your negotiations lasted for three." Hipparchos counters.
Jerod smiles, and does not reply. A son of Rebma does not boast.
Hipparchos continues. "Then there was the jungle with monuments rising in the distance and dark-skinned villagers in long paddle boats. That was a treat."
"They were quite friendly once they got used to us." Jerod replied. "Their culture is peaceful and they are intelligent with a written language and stable government. All key points in my book."
"It wasn't the natives that were the treat." Hipparchos says.
Jerod frowns, thinking. "Oh, you mean that crewman...what's his name? Peddle?", watching as Hipparchos nods before he continues with a smile. "Well, he's still new. He'll learn you don't barter for exotic things with tropical natives before actually taking a moment to figure out if what you're buying is dangerous."
"How did you know?" Hipparchos asks.
Jerod shrugs. "It's a tropical environment and he was buying something small and scaly that had sharp teeth and claws. Tropical climates tend to produce very efficient predators. I'm sure he thought it was neat that it wanted to cuddle up to him. Maybe it was just trying to figure out if he was tasty before sinking the poison fangs into him."
Hipparchos finishes the fruit, dropping the ring onto a second plate before picking up another. "Well, let us hope the captain does not let him forget his mistake."
"I suspect his crewmates will be more effective in that department than the captain, though official punishment is never bad for setting guidelines." Jerod says.
Hipparchos nods. "Then that desert inlet. You knew those people."
"No." Jerod says, shaking his head. "People like them though. The ones I knew were called Bedouin. Nomads. The ones inhabiting the village and controlling the well were not like the Bedouin. They remained stationary dwellers, unlike the nomads around them. They control the local water hole and barter access to it for supplies and peace. The other tribes come to trade and replenish at the site. It is natural that it would serve as a meeting place and neutral ground."
"Very useful, until one tribe decides to take control of the site for themselves." Hipparchos says. "The Crystal pool near Gateway is an example. Many fought for control of it before one was finally victorious."
"Did outsiders come to the site to trade during these wars?" Jerod asks.
Hipparchos shakes his head. "No."
"Then it is not good comparison. The site is not a point of power to be contested by all who would approach. Should a conflict arise, they fight it out amongst themselves and leave the outside traders alone." Jerod says. "We bring supplies and trade goods in exchange for water and fresh food. If they are foolish enough to deny the traders who come the food and water they need...then the traders do not return. Who loses? We might in the short term, but they lose more overall. They also know we have no interest in their kingdom."
Jerod puts the quill down. "You met Al'rudan. He's not stupid and neither are his countryman. We will trade just enough of what we carry to get our supplies but carry the rest away to our final destination. This gives him, or whoever controls the site an advantage. We bring just enough to make things interesting but not enough to flood the market. We each get what we want."
"And the coral atoll?"
"Fortuitous that." Jerod replies with a smile. "You would not have found all those mocha fruits that you seem to like."
"Yes, fortuitous. And you did not indicate how you would shave off time for any future journeys."
Jerod smiles again. "No, I didn't." and closes the rutter.
On its fifth stop, Jerod's small fleet arrives at a harbor at the mouth of a river: Le Havre. Jerod recognizes from the feel of the place that he is about as close to Paris as he used to be to Amber at the far end of Garnath. It's not impossible to change things here, but it is difficult.
[OOC: it's about 127 miles to Paris from Le Havre and the length of Garnath is ~100 miles. Sheer coincidence.]
The port is bustling and ships flying the flags of a number of different shadows. The levels of technology vary from sail to steam. The harbormaster comes out to inspect Jerod's vessel, accept his credentials, and convey King Corwin's greetings from Paris. There is a message, sealed with the silver rose, for Jerod.
Nephew,
Welcome to Le Havre. The bargemen will bring the trade goods to Paris on the river, but you should feel free to come ahead.
I assume you've heard about Julian's son. I was in Amber for the funeral and am at your disposal to discuss any family matters you may care to speak of.
Cambina is well and sends her best through me.
Your uncle,
Corwin
The harbormaster also conveys the compliments of Princess Florimel, who arrived yesterday evening. There is also a note from Princess Florimel that appears to have been dashed off at the last moment.
Dear Jerod,
Welcome to Le Havre! I hope your voyage was fruitful and eventful only in the pleasantest ways.
I've spent the morning making sure my cargo will be delivered to Paris without incident and I find myself in need of bit of refreshment. Will you join me for luncheon at the Hotel Paris? I'm sure you and I have news to exchange. Dear Solace and the children are with me, but she'll be taking lunch in her room with the children.
I look forward to seeing you, either here or in Paris.
Yours,
Florimel
Jerod thinks he could sneak in a trump conversation if he wanted to make lunch, or dine with his aunt and then call on Corwin. The harbormaster has assistants that he could use to send messages.
Jerod thanks the harbormaster for the messages and for the efforts of his crews in dealing with this latest bit of cargo. He will explain the origins of the factors and the status of Hipparchos in particular (an emissary from Westport, though not yet officially recognized by the Crown, meaning treat him nice but don't give in to any silly or unreasonable demands).
The harbormaster seems astute enough to pick up on the unspoken instructions, and once Jerod has completed the debriefing and the captain has dealt with the paperwork, he's on his way.
Jerod then sifts both of the messages for a few moments, thinking about his passenger and the desired course of action. While it would certainly be amusing to watch Hipparchos deal with Florimel...or more precisely Florimel chew up Hipparchos, Jerod decides it is more suitable that Westport's representative have a chance to learn a bit more about Paris, and meet Corwin, before setting him loose in the jungle.
To that end, Jerod makes arrangements to have Hipparchos travel with the other trade factors, and the cargo if appropriate, to Paris. He will explain to him that since Paris is a new kingdom, Hipparchos should consider it an opportunity to learn the ways and meet the people unburdened by the needs of court and politics. It also gives Jerod a chance to warn Corwin (assuming he needs it) about the new guest.
Hipparchos is agreeable, although Jerod is pretty sure that he's aware that Jerod will be communicating with Corwin somehow while he's en route.
It's arranged that Hipparchos and the supplies will set off by barge sometime in the next few days, as soon as the stevedores have finished moving the cargo to set off up the Seine. Meanwhile, he'll be at a hotel in Le Havre with the factors who are overseeing the work.
If he stays and Flora doesn't leave, it's inevitable she'll contrive to meet him.
Once Hipparchos has been suitably accomodated, Jerod will find a place to sit down and pen a quick note to Florimel, sealing it and having one of the harbormaster's assistants hurry it off to the Hotel Paris.
Dearest Auntie...
It is gratifying that news of my arrival has so quickly reached you and I look forward to attending upon an excellent luncheon after a time at sea.
We will see you soon.
Jerod.
(The assumption is that this establishment is located in Le Havre, as opposed to Paris itself).
(yes)
He then makes sure that he has a quiet room in which to make a trump call to Corwin. If Rein is available, Jerod will see if he wishes to be there and get back to Paris quicker. While it is only 127 miles, it's still quicker if you take a single step.
Rein would like to go back directly, unless Corwin wants him to stay in Le Havre.
Either way, once all assorted sundries are dealt with and Jerod has his private room, he sifts out Corwin's card and begins to concentrate...
"Uncle...it is Jerod."
Corwin takes a moment to accept the connection. He's standing in a courtyard somewhere, probably on the grounds of Versailles, having tea. There's someone with him, because Jerod can see the tea service for two, but frustratingly, it's not obvious who the other party is.
And once again, the strategically placed gigantic silver tea service continues keeps the plot and her players concealed...that oldest of contrivances huh? *snicker*
[OOC: Ask Rein when you get to Paris. That's the easy way to find out. ;-) ]
"Jerod. Where are you? Have you made your way to Le Havre yet?"
"We arrived this morning, Uncle. I hope I am not interrupting?" Jerod says, allowing Corwin a chance to respond before proceeding. "The path is laid and should last a year. I should make another trip in about six months to re-stabilize it, possibly cut some time off the trip. The cargo and factors have been unloaded and the harbormaster has made arrangements to have them sent up to Paris."
He then picks up the letter from the Chancellor that is on the table before him. "The Chancellor of the Collegia extends her greetings." he says, offering the letter (and under the assumption that Corwin will take it).
Corwin takes the letter and sets it aside on the table.
"I have Rein with me and he would like to come through. We also have a representative from the town of Westport, sent by the Lord Eleftherios. His name is Hipparchos. He is being sent up with the barges as well to give him time to properly..." and Jerod pauses with a smile. "...adjust...to Paris and her environs. That should give you time to prepare for him."
"Good thinking," Corwin replies. "I'll come up with suitable display to impress the locals. Westport--that's not one of the major towns in Gateway, as I recall. How did you come to settle on that?"
"It was the closest one that came up when hellriding." Jerod says. "It's port facilities are adequate and it should allow for a foothold without having to fight with more established traders in Gateway city. This should allow you to gain a more secure foothold should you so desire it. It's a more independent community and as such it should be a bit easier to operate there, though the local lord will no doubt guard his sovereignty as any mage does.
"Rein has also, at my request, gone about acquiring a number of...associates...who may also be developed for future use. He can fill you in on the details about that."
Corwin nods at that remark, a slow smile spreading across his face. He reaches back to the table and makes a motion that Jerod recognizes as stubbing out a cigarette.
"How was the funeral? The timing when I contacted Uncle Random did not allow me to depart from the journey. I sent my condolescences to Uncle Julian through separate means."
"It went as well as could be expected," Corwin replies. "Julian gave him a Ranger's sendoff, complete with cairn on the side of Kolvir. When you get back to Amber, you'll get a chance to add a stone of your own, if you like."
Jerod nods, noting the requirement to at least make a public display.
"The family seems to have grown since we left Amber. I can't tell whether it's just the aftereffects of the war or whether my brothers and sisters are finally letting the rest of their kids come home. Either way, you'll meet more than one new face when you get there."
"Really?" Jerod says, an eyebrow going up slightly. "Things have been slowly settling so I wonder how many others might be out there, biding their time. Are there any names to be had so I can go looking for names? I'll be going to Amber eventually to take care of personal business, after Xanadu. I must speak to Uncle Random on a couple of matters."
"Some of the newcomers seem to have found their way to Amber or Xanadu on their own. 'All roads lead ...'," Corwin quotes, leaving the remainder as an exercise for his nephew.
"There's a charming lady doctor named Hannah who has taken on Gerard's case. She cornered me at the memorial to find out what I could tell her about tissue regeneration in the family." There's a momentary flicker of some emotion, but he suppresses it and continues: "Brennan seems to have negotiated our mysterious redhead from the masquerade into Random's good graces. The boy's name is Ambrose and the plan seems to be to cut him from Dara's leading strings. And Random mentioned two others: a woman named Carper whom Ossian rescued from an invading army, and a man named Edan ibn Bleys, of the Land of Peace."
Jerod is equally neutral in his response to any reference to old histories on medical conditions, and certainly on that particular subject - nothing good comes from reviving it.
"Interesting. Two unknowns and two for the redhead troupe." Jerod muses. "With luck, maybe something good will come of it for Uncle Gerard. I certainly wouldn't disapprove of that.
"None of us would," Corwin replies.
"Is there anything I should know before I hand Rein through to you?" Jerod asks. "Auntie Florimel has requested a luncheon at the Hotel Paris and I decided to accept. No doubt it will suitably fashionable. I will travel up to Paris with her and Solace and we can discuss any details of the Gateway trip then."
"Nothing that won't wait until you arrive in Paris, satiated with good food, fine wine, and the latest gossip from Karime," Corwin says with a smile. He extends his hand for Rein.
[Assuming Jerod passes Rein through]
The assumption proves correct. Jerod makes note that Karime is still around. Another shadow for a path to be made, just from a new direction possibly.
[That was actually what Flora was doing.]
Jerod figured that Corwin was the recipient...that doesn't mean that someone else might not want a path there...:)
Besides...Karime was a rather interesting place last time Jerod was there. It's lots of fun riding around on elephants...:)
"If there's nothing else, give my best to your aunt, and I'll see you in a few days. If there's any urgent news, I'll contact you through her."
"We will see you then Uncle." Jerod says, before turning down the card and ending the contact.
Last modified: 13 December 2005