A short time after Prime, Brita sits in a small alcove off the main kitchens - a Break Fast Nook, she's been told - waiting for Ambrose to arrive. She is hunched over a sketch pad, positioned in such a way as to catch the limited amount of light coming from the small window high up on the curved wall. She ignores the small plate of food that the under cook left on the table despite her protestations that she would wait for Ambrose. She is intent on the sketch. Although her pencils are scattered across the small table, she seems unerringly to reach for and find the correct color without looking up. Brennan might be proud of her as she is attempting to do two things at once - practice her Skills by using them to find the colors she wants without looking and Sketching. Her practice is a simple thing, but - with her focus on the Sketch Trump - it does take more concentration.
[Assuming that Brita is manipulating probability to make the right color be under her hand when she reaches out, this is a variation of the pattern trick to get the right money in your pocket, and it will work. If Brita had something else in mind, email us off-line.]
Brita finds this more difficult than expected. She keeps failing to find the color she's seeking for, and it takes her a long time to get back into the proper frame of mind to make a Trump when she does get the right one.
She won't allow the practice to affect the Sketch and will stop the sorcerous attempts when she discovers it does affect her ability to perform her Pattern Arts.
Brita works for a short period of time, working on her sketch and smelling the cooks and the cooking. The food smells quite good. After a short while, Ambrose comes in. She notices him at the door and he waves and walks over. He stands beside the table and says "Hello, Cousin. May I look at your work?" He seems happy to see her.
"Certainly, Cousin Ambrose," Brita says with a warm smile. She turns the page so he can see - it is a picture of Conner focused close in on his face. As he examines it, she waves to one of the cooks to bring over their Break Fast.
"A good resemblance," Ambrose says as he seats himself.
"Sit. Food will be Forthcoming. I met a New Cousin Meg yesterday. She is having Difficulties in her Home Shadow with Our Uncle Huon, it seems, and Needs Assistance to Regain what is Hers. I have Offered my Services and Thought to Ask You." [Brita gets right to the point.] She pauses and quickly gathers up her pencils as the food is brought over by several of the under cooks. "A fine repast," she notes to the main cook as the others leave the now heavily burdened table.
Ambrose begins to serve himself from the platters. "I'll need to return to Uxmal at least briefly to check in, and I'll want to see what our uncle the King has to say, but yes, I'll help. None of the wards I've set against trouble in Uxmal have gone off, so I think things must be fine there, but I'm still very worried about my mother, and what Chantico is up to.
"What kind of trouble is she having? And what does she need to regain? I can't spare any warriors right now; they're all needed to keep Chantico out of the Magician's Pyramid. But I may have other useful resources in Uxmal that I could bring to bear on Meg's problem."
"It sounds as if Uncle Huon is Attacking her Home Shadow. I do not have all the Details. We are to Meet with her, My Cousin Ossian, and Cousin Marius this morn to Learn More. I would be Interested in Seeing the Priestess again. Perhaps we can Travel to Shadow Uxmal first and then on to Shadow Abford."
"Huon?" Ambrose looks vaguely alarmed. "Brennan and I were discussing him recently when he visited me in Uxmal, just before I came to Amber. Brennan said he was banished from Amber for fratricide according to the family rumors. His reappearance disturbs me."
After a moment, he adds, "I have Huon's card. My father left it to me along with the ones I showed you."
"You have a Trump of Huon?" Brita seems a little surprised. "I wonder if Brand was in Contact with Him. Did he Expect you to Contact Uncle Huon? Truly, that Revelation does not Bode Well for Uncle Huon's Intentions."
"I doubt it." Brennan follows his own voice around the corner into the breakfast nook. "First, because I doubt that Brand truly foresaw a day when he would no longer exist. Second, because I think those Trumps that Ambrose found were of people who would not be missed, if you understand me. Trumps are weapons.
"Brita," he greets her, and, "Brother," with a smile, and an outstretched hand. "Congratulations. I knew you'd make it. May I join you?"
Brita has jumped up to greet Brennan, "Cousin Brennan! Welcome!" She waves at one of the nearby cooks and requests more food. She also tries to push a little bend into space to turn the slight pointing she is doing to direct the cook into a light touch on Brennan's left shoulder. [She's got to practice somehow, right?]
Brennan both senses the sorcery and feels the light touch on his shoulder.
Ambrose starts slightly, looks at Brita and shakes his head slightly. "Careful," he murmurs to Brita.
Brennan stares at his shoulder, then at Ambrose and Brita. After a scowl, he pointedly ignores the whole thing.
Then he, too rises, and accepts Brennan's clasp, returning it warmly. "Thank you. I spent most of yesterday recovering. When did you get back from Xanadu?"
Once he and Brennan have disengaged, Ambrose moves back to his own seat. He waits for Brita and, presumably, Brennan to be seated before taking his chair again.
Brita does indeed indicate the empty chair for Brennan. "So, are you just Checking up on your Brother or do you have Other...Purposes?" the twinkle in Brita's eye and the surpressed grin might indicate that she purposefully dropped the word 'nefarious'.
"Checking in with Ambrose is one reason, yes. No one should have to walk a Pattern without anyone to congratulate him at the end of it," Brennan says, then he shifts his glance to Ambrose. "Another is to release a promise he made-- I've told Ossian he is my son, and neither of us are inclined to try and keep it a secret. Thank you, brother."
Ambrose nods in a way that Brennan parses as an Uxmali neck-bow. "I need to return to Uxmal soon; I have a number of tasks to complete and even those I must perform elsewhere will benefit from a visit to Uxmal beforehand. Brita--" and a look her way draws her into the conversation, "--and I were discussing the possibility that she would accompany me. Will you do so also, and tell our mother that she is a grandmother?"
Brennan swallows a mouthful of grapefruit juice like he'd drank from unsweetened lemon juice. "I... hadn't planned on it, no. There are responsibilities here, and a trip to make. The conditions the King placed on me before we do anything overt about Brand's perfidious cousin is to sound out Corwin and Benedict about it, which means I have a trip to Paris in addition to everything else going on around here."
Brita listens attentively as she continues to eat. "Perfidious Cousin?" she asks around an impromptu ham sandwich. "Why Perfidious?"
Ambrose lets Brennan field that one.
Brennan shoots him a cynically amused look, then turns to Brita. "Because I expect Dara meant to puncture your cousin," he gestures to Ambrose, "on the night she declared war and tried to kidnap her son. In her position, with her stated goals, it's something I would have considered strongly."
He shoots Ambrose an almost apologetic look, and spreads his hands, but there it is. He turns back to Brita. "And you, dear cousin, are perhaps the most qualified member of our generation to draw a Trump of her. Barring Merlin, of course. And perhaps of Cleph. Had you realized that?"
Ambrose still looks unimpressed to both Brita's and Brennan's eyes.
"My... Association with Dara and Cleph was limited, although I did get a good Scent of the latter. I could Try, however. It is a Thought. I am Working on a Trump of my Brother right now. I can work on a Sketch or two. Do you have a Scheduled Need?"
"Yeah," Brennan says. "Before she gets frisky and tries something. The King has already told me not to go hunting, and I do not intend to disobey him in the slightest. And if she stays where she is, it probably won't be useful. But if she comes back, or I'm given a letter of marque...." his voice trails off into a smile positively incandescent with planned malice. "Well then, a weapon will come in handy.
"Perhaps," he says, "It's something that a talented young Sorcerer could help you with, somehow."
Ambrose smiles and nods slightly at the implied compliment.
"I will start on One Right Away," Brita states and she actually flips open her sketch pad to begin.
Brennan actually blinks in mild but pleasant surprise that Brita is not only cooperating, but cooperating right now. Can't ask for more than that.
"I'm glad we've clarified where the King stands on the matter, brother," Ambrose says.
Brennan nods decisively, pleased that the message has been received at all quarters.
"Do you have any messages for our mother? I'll tell her about Ossian, of course, but if there's anything else--you know she will ask me for news of you." There's only the slightest touch of pleasant fraternal malice, or perhaps fraternal oneupsmanship, in it.
Brennan smiles a smile of long and patient memory and battles on grounds of his choosing. "Tell her I look forward to seeing her safe in Xanadu."
Ambrose's little smile fades and his brow wrinkles slightly. "I'll tell her you said so."
"Have you any further thoughts on what to do with our sister? I'm still concerned that there may have been contact between her and Dara during the existence of the Black Road, or that there may be in the future.
"And shall we stay in touch by the same fashion?" He glances over at Brita, adding, "We still have no Trumps of each other."
"I am told there is a sketch of me for the 'Trump Booth'," Ambrose says, and smiles at Brita. "If you come with me to Uxmal, the trump I have of you will be of no use. As it is, unless my brother stays close by you, it will be of little use to contact him." He turns his attention back to Brennan. "If you plan to stay in Amber, the letter drop will suffice to keep us in touch."
Brennan nods to the latter, but adds, "The Trump in the booth must be a new addition. Wish I'd known that last night. We'll need some Xanadu's, too, but I suspect everyone will be drawing those soon."
Brita glances at Ambrose and then backs at Brennan, "Actually, I can give you one of These." She flips to the back of the Sketchpad where a small pocket holds a couple of cards. She passes Brennan a Trump Sketch of herself. [She had three - one went to Ossian.] "I gave Cousin Ambrose's Trump Sketch to Cousin Ossian for the Trump Booth."
For the second time in one morning, Brennan blinks back a pleasant surprise. "Thank you, Cousin," he says. "I'll use it wisely, I hope."
Then he turns back to Ambrose. "You haven't answered the question about our Sister," he says quietly. "We'll talk it through when I'm back from Paris? I think we really need to know if and how the Black Road manifested in Uxmal."
"Indeed we do. Perhaps our father's influence kept it at bay somehow." Ambrose doesn't sound reassured by that answer. "My next move is to see whether the influence of the Pattern can counteract her sign of fire. The road beyond depends on the answer to that question." His last sentence is anchored on the word "answer".
When Ambrose mentions keeping the Black Road at bay, Brennan looks highly skeptical. "I don't think that's mathematically possible," he says. It seems that he might say more, struck by a thought, but it's evidently a troubling one. He frowns.
"And at some point, I need to know what you mean when you talk about her 'sign of fire.' Sorcery? Or something else?"
Brita asks: "Is it something like the Green Power of Forest Arden?"
"I don't know the green power of Arden," Ambrose replies, "so I can't answer that with any accuracy." He turns his attention back to his brother and says, "No, I don't think so. I think I'd be able to tell if she were violating an ordered principle to produce fire. It's not Entropy, which is the obvious principle; I'd certainly recognize that. As far as I can tell, it's just ... fire. But potent. Real."
"It may not be the Green of Arden," Brennan says, "but the characteristic of Real, but not Order or Chaos, is very similar to how Fiona described the Dragon of Arcadia. And this is not the only mention I've heard of Fire, lately. I don't like that at all."
Ambrose looks neither entirely surprised nor entirely happy about that news.
"Learn what you can, Brother," it's a command, but in Uxmali would be rendered in as close to a friendly tone as existed, "for when we next speak. I need to ask Fi a number of pointed questions, now. And tell Tayanna... I wish to learn more of our history. The deep histories, and the ancient ones that few other than Brand's High Priestess would know. She should bring as many books and records as she is able. Including," he finishes with a mutter, "the ones with pictures.
"Stay safe, you two, and come back soon."
Brita says "Good Day and Successful Hunting. Tell my Mother I will be Travelling soon and that there is a new Sketch of me in the Trump Booth."
"Good luck, brother. I'll contact you when I have news."
Unless they have more, Brennan bids them good morning, and strides off in search of Fiona.
Once Brennan has gone, Ambrose slumps slightly. "I thought he understood, but I think he must not have internalized what I think our father did to our mother," he says glumly. After a moment, he adds, "If he were a sorcerer, I could show him. How unfortunate that our father seems to have neglected that aspect of his training."
He looks up at Brita. "Maybe the Pattern will help me extract her."
Brita thinks for a minute. "Your Brother may Understand more than you think." She looks directly at Ambrose, "You should just Explain Directly, although I Gather that Uxmali does not lend itself to the Direct Route."
Ambrose quirks a smile and nods at Brita's words, but she doesn't feel he's taking them to heart.
Brita shakes her head slightly as she makes note of his lack of attention to the point.
[If the point was that Brennan is a sorcerer, he is indeed clueless.]
She continues, "You Mentioned before that the Priestess is Tied to the Story of Shadow Uxmal. Can we Devise something to Change the Story? or Change the Priestess? Our Pattern Heritage can Shape Reality. Can we Extend a Pocket of Shadow Uxmal to Contain the Priestess Wherever she is? Knit the Fabric of Uxmal to Allow for her to Reside Elsewhere, Somewhere more Protected?"
"She's also shored up with another power I don't understand, or didn't. I assumed it was Pattern. That violates everything I've ever been told about metaphysical theory, but if anyone could make it work, it would have been my father." Ambrose frowns thoughtfully. "I'll have a better idea after I've had a chance to look at her in person."
Brita nods in understanding. "I would like to See her as well and have Your Input on the Differences between Pattern and Sorcerous Views."
At that point, a young page comes in carrying a note. Brita thanks the page for his service and turns back to Ambrose after reading the note.
"Cousin Meg has given us Details for the Planning Meeting," she says as she passes the note to Ambrose. "We have maybe half a Watch and I need to Work more on These Sketches." She passes the ones she started of Dara to Ambrose for his review. "Perhaps we can Meet up again in the Middle Gallery before hand?"
"I'd like that." He has a couple of suggestions about the Dara sketch, observations based on his own memories of her, that Brita finds marginally useful.
Assuming consent from Ambrose and after his input on the Sketches, Brita returns to her room to spend the next couple of hours sketching.
(under the door to Folly's room; Freeday, 21 Coins)
Folly, this is Celina.
I'm very sorry you missed the funeral, I wanted to ask for your guidance on a few things that offend my heart. We had so little time together, but it seemed as if we might be sisters. That would make me the younger, bumbling sister, of course. You would be the wise sister that protects me from my naive ways.
I have not a Trump as yet, but Merlin is staying with me in my plans to travel. Please send your best wishes and tell Martin he is with me. I fear that this Dara business will get worse before it gets better.
Is you mother explainable? We might talk along those lines some day.
Everything you did for me meant a great deal.
It helps. I'm deciding things for myself now.
My best love to you.C
tell Martin: Khela is under my protection now.
His reaction should be priceless.
After writing to Caine, Meg sends pages with messages to Ossian and Brita, with a time and place to meet, and a suggestion of some urgency.
The appointed time is mid-morning, and when it arrives Meg is waiting in a sitting room of the castle. The room still catches some of the morning sun, and it appears that Meg has a better grasp of the castle bureaucracy, for the side table is laid with refreshments.
She paces and turns at any sound of someone approaching the door.
About five minutes before the appointed time, the door opens and Brita walks in with a red haired man. "Cousin Meg," Brita gives a slight bow and then gestures to the man, "this is Cousin Ambrose. Cousin Ambrose, Cousin Meg." Brita completes the introduction.
"Of course," Meg smiles, "We have met before. Or rather Ambrose has seen me meet King Random and lose my patience, and I have seen him take his oath to the king." She holds out her hand to Ambrose in greeting. "But I'm glad to be properly introduced."
Ambrose is wearing a light-colored linen shirt and trousers of a tougher fabric in a light khaki color. The fabrics look like they were designed for a climate more tropical than that of Amber. His high black boots are the same that he was wearing last night for the service.
He bows slightly as he takes her hand. "The pleasure is mine, cousin."
Meg steps back and gestures to the table and the seats around the room. "Please, help yourselves, and thank-you for coming. I've asked Ossian too, so he should be along any moment."
Meg stays standing for a minute, her weight on her toes as though she might start pacing agin. Then she sits and clasps her hands in her lap.
She looks at Ambrose. "I'm please to see you back from your trip. I gather you are only slightly more new to Amber than I am."
"I knew of Amber from my childhood, though it is only recently that I was able to come here for myself," Ambrose explains. "My father was--estranged from Amber."
Meg smiles again, with sympathy. "Yes, it's a bit of a pickle for you, isn't it? I hope you don't mind me mentioning it, but I only just had a run down on recent history yesterday from Prince Garrett."
Meg continues on blithely, "And who knows, I may find myself in the same boat. Ossian and I were left in the same orphanage in the same Shadow just a few years apart. I don't understand it all, but I gather that the odds of us having different Amber parents are quite long." She raises an eyebrow. "Unless there's some other great big attractive force for you people in Abford."
"There are always attractive forces where Amber blood is concerned," Ambrose answers her. "It's possible that the presence of one child would draw another. My education in such matters is less complete than others, so I probably can't do all the higher math involved to prove it in this case, but that is what I was taught and it's likely to be the case here."
As Ambrose and Meg converse, Brita arranges a small plate of fruit, finds a comfy chair [there have to be many with this family] with a nearby table for the fruit, and pulls out her sketchpad again. She begins sketching while they wait for Ossian.
Ossian comes in a few minutes later. He's carrying his big sketch book as usual, and does look a bit tired. He bows before takig a chair for himself "Cousins. Uncle."
Ambrose looks mildly startled, but smiles at Ossian. "Nephew," he says in reply.
"Where's Marius?" he asks, looking around.
The door opens and a young man, smartly dressed (in the garb of the Amber Navy) walks in and looks around. "Mistress Carper? Admiral Caine's compliments, He asked me to inform you that Captain Marius is, as you have surmised, not in the castle. Also, he seems to be unreachable by other means. The Admiral advises you to go on without the Captain."
"Ahhh," sighs Meg. She stands and addresses the new arrival. "Thank-you for the message, and please convey my thanks to Admiral Caine." She nods to the door indicating that he may go.
The young officer nods smartly at Meg in response to her dismissal and departs. He closes the door behind him on his way out of the room.
She turns to the others. "That's the bad news I have. Marius appears to have disappeared, off looking for his mother's jewellery or something like that." Meg sits again.
"I know he only lost her recently, but I could wish for better timing." Meg spreads her hands again, and looks at Brita and Ambrose. "Marius was planning the rescue of my family. With him gone, we have lost two days planning."
"The ****ing Bastard." Ossian swears, in a rather uncharacteristic manner "I hope he has a really good reason reason for this."
Meg's mouth goes thin and tight.
Ossian quickly gains control of himself, though "Well, we'll have to do without him then. Did you and he plan anything together?"
Ambrose seems slightly surprised at, and perhaps wary of, Ossian's intemperate reaction, then relieved as his nephew regains control.
Brita comments, "If you did Not form a Plan with Marius, Cousin Ambrose may Have a Suggested Method of Approach that would be Helpful."
Ambrose turns his attention to Meg. "I've been told your home Shadow--Abford--is under threat by a kinsman of ours named Huon. Is that correct, so far as you understand things?"
"I believe so," Meg answers. "I don't know what Marius planned. I told him as many details as I could remember, and he was to do the planning. I'm better at running a dinner party than facing an army."
Meg rises and gathers food as she talks. "Perhaps it's best I explain from the beginning. I heard through the news networks of merchants that there was a strange ship visiting the kingdom to the north. The ship didn't come from anywhere anyone knew of, were asking suspicious questions, and the crew was spending coins no one had seen before either."
Meg sits with her plate. "They have a design of a horn, which I'm told is Huon's design. I can show you one if it would help, but it's not the important bit."
Meg breaks off a bit of cake but doesn't eat it. "Apparently coincidentally, Ossian, Marius, Reid and Cloudius arrived in Abford as well. Then, while I was talking with Ossian on clues to his past, there was a sound like thunder and the town was being attacked by," Meg catches Ossian's eye for an instant, "artillery." She eats the fragment of cake. "Though Marius worked out that it was Huon from something else, didn't he?" she asks Ossian.
"I am not sure what Marius worked out." Ossian says with a sad smile. "Maybe Caine helped him. I haven't had time to talk with Marius since we came back here.
"They used artillery, yes. I thought it was best to leave, so with Marius' help I brought Meg here.
"Do we know anything more about those spying ships?"
It is Ambrose who answers the question. "I can help with that. There are sorceries that might be useful. But I can also help more directly if it is, in fact, Huon of the Horn we face. My father left me his trump."
A smile flashes across Meg's face, full of malicious delight. Ossian may recognise it as the same smile she made when she threatened to cuts his hands.
"Having a Trump and Using it Against an Elder may be two very Different things," Brita notes. "My Question," Brita turns to Meg, "would be what Suspicious Questions were They asking?"
Meg turns to Brita, "There is always the straightforward approach of asking him why he's in my town and could he please leave, though I would prefer to have my family safe before we try it."
Meg eats a crumb of cake. "I wonder what he does want. All I've been told so far suggests he's creating trouble because he just likes destruction and chaos, and his people were asking questions in Renady, the sorts of questions an invader asks, rather than one looking for trade links."
"We will need to ask him. But let's get your family out first, as you say. I would prefer him not having that leverage on us when we talk to him." Ossian says.
"Anyway, I have finished the sketch of the orphanage, so we can get there quickly."
"I'll need to make a trip home to Uxmal to get the Trump, but I can return here quickly." Ambrose says.
"I would not be able to Leave before Tomorrow Morning. We can Go In with Cousin Ossian's Place Trump and get your family Out, but there must be Others you Wish to Protect. How do we get Uncle Huon Away from Those?"
Ossian scowls angrily at Brita for a short moment.
Brita raises an eyebrow back at him.
Meg vigorously nods her agreement with the importance of the question and misses Ossian's reaction.
"I would think," Ambrose interjects, "that it will depend on what people and how many our kinswoman means to protect. Smuggling out a few people through a trump is one thing. Dislodging Huon from a town may mean sending him packing from the shadow he's in. The first is a much simpler operation than the second."
He glances at Ossian. "Artillery, but no sorcery, you say? That'll be a help."
"Let's make it clear. I heard sounds that I identified as artillery. That's what we've got." Ossian answers.
Ambrose nods.
[Ossian]
"Do we have sorcery?"
"Limited from Me," Brita notes. "I do Know of Artillery from my Time of Study with Master Ngyen. His Shadow had Such, but His Teachings were focused on How to Avoid Conflict more than How to Utilize such Implements."
"This sorcery is different from the card magic, yes?" Meg asks. "But we can use it to spy on them like the cards let people talk? How easy is that? If we knew more of what was happening, we could see what's the best approach."
Ambrose takes on a bit of a pedantic tone, like one of the orphanage's teachers. "Sorcery is the use of will to paradoxically circumvent principles of order. It's different from trumps, yes. There are also sorcerous methods of scrying. I can use them. If nothing else, the trump will make it easy for me to focus on Huon. If he has a sign of fire, though, someone may get burned." He frowns at the last bit. "That's unlikely, though. If Huon were a sorcerer, he'd have gotten back to Amber by now."
Meg raises an eyebrow as he talks, but pays close attention. "Right, so he's unlikely to be a sorcerer, and unlikely to have a sign of fire, we don't know if he has the magic of card trumps, and I gather he has this magic of walking to different worlds. He probably has this artillery, wants us to think so, or something else. And he has an army and a ship. Have I missed anything?" Meg asks.
"And we'd like to know where all my family are, what's happening in Abford, and what Huon wants?" Meg adds.
"With what we know we can't make much of a plan." Ossian says with a sad smile and turns to Meg "But we can prepare some. I take it your family is important enough that some will be put under arrest if the town is invaded? Where is the most likely place to hold them?"
"I'd need to know that to scry them out successfully," Ambrose adds.
"The Council Hall has the guard cells," Meg offers. "I suspect," she starts again and makes eye contact with Brita and Ambrose, "I've dreamt that my eldest, Peter, is a prisoner there. One of those dreams that feels like it's later going to turn out to have been true."
"You dream true?" Ambrose asks, and waits for her to elaborate, and the others to offer opinions.
Brita is mainly listening, but Ambrose's wording has her brow furrowing. "Few in Shadow Asgard have The Sight, but It often Manifests in Dreams. Please, do Elaborate, Cousin Meg."
Ossian nods and looks at Meg. He has flipped up his sketch book, and started on something.
Meg frowns impatiently and waves her hand. "I dream. Some are just dreams, sometimes I dream things that turn out to have been true, but it's rarely useful. Don't you all dream? Benedict told me that you'd all been having strange dreams lately, like I dreamt of the tower falling on Gerard. I'm not sure it helps much. Peter's a guild leader, it's likely he'd be held prisoner, and the Hall is the obvious place, so my dream is just what I already knew."
"I haven't spoken with Prince Benedict on the matter," Ambrose replies, but from his expression, he probably will soon. "Dreaming true isn't a common talent in Uxmal. Can we get a sketch of the Council Hall? It doesn't have to be trump-active, but it will help me scry. If it could be prepared while I'm travelling to Uxmal and back, that would be helpful."
"I have had no Strange Dreams as the Sister Fates have not Granted me Insight into their Weaving," Brita notes to Meg. To Ambrose she asks, "How long do you Envision the Trip to Shadow Uxmal taking? I Want to have the Sketch for Cousin Brennan Before we Leave for Shadow Abford."
"We really want to go to Abford as soon as possible" Ossian says, frowning.
Meg nods.
Then he turns to Meg "Is the Council Hall the big building west of the town square? With the clock?"
"Yes, that's the Hall."
"If they're held inside, interior views would be best--if you can get them. Otherwise I'll make do." Ambrose turns his attention back to Brita. "Travel time is minimal--since this is urgent I can Part the Veil to go and return--but I'll need about a day to gather my tools and deal with other things."
"I haven't been inside", Ossian says. "But I can easily make a quick sketch of the outside." Ossian flips up fresh page in his sketch book, and starts to draw something "Maybe Meg and I could make something together of the inside."
"So not until tomorrow at the earliest?" Meg gives Ossian a quick worried look. "I can see there are still preparations to make but we have the ability to move forward," Meg's tone is up beat and control, "and I will also try to find out more about Huon." Meg smiles and puts her plate to one side before looking at Brita and then Ambrose.
"I don't mean any offence and I do not know your customs but, I should ask, what would you like in return for your help?" Meg asks.
There is a spark in Ossian's eyes. He looks at Ambrose and Brita.
"The things I want most are not in your power to provide, I'm afraid," Ambrose says. "But lest I be accused of goodness without an ulterior motive, I should add that rendering you aid will help my standing with the family, not least the King and my nephew here." He gestures at Ossian.
Meg smirks.
Ossian smiles wryly.
"And I'm always glad to help my cousin Brita." And [Ambrose] smiles at her.
Brita returns the smile and then says to Meg, "As I said before, Cousin Meg, I do Not Require any Payment for my Aid. The Glory of a Battle is in the Fighting of it - Honorably and Well. The Rewards come whether one Wins or Loses if the Battle is Well Fought."
"Good," Meg smiles. "I have not met a warrior like you before, but I am glad to have done so."
[Ossian]
"As for me, I guess...I owe you some. And you could possibly help me find
out more about Brand, if there is anything more to be found in Abford.
Meg gives Ossian a long look.
"Besides I like the thought of trying to break your family out of that place."
"I, too, find that the idea of breaking relatives out of a trap shadow has some appeal," Ambrose says to Ossian. There's a wry bitterness to his smile.
He turns his attention back to Meg. "Cousin, do we have our plans established? Our kinswoman Brita and my nephew Ossian will handle the artistic end of the endeavor; I will fetch the needed sorcerous implements from Uxmal and return to scry on Huon, and then we'll attempt to find out what they're doing. Further plans will take shape from the results of our scrying, I assume."
Meg nods. "And anything else I can find out about him and what he might be up to. If only to keep me from going spare in the mean time."
Ossan nods, with a smile.
Brita quirks a brow at the odd phrasing from Meg /going spare?/, but she only says, "Cousin Meg, we will All make Every Effort to Return you to your Family as Quickly as Possible."
Ambrose nods. "Indeed we will. Let's adjourn for now and meet tomorrow. If I'm late to return for some unforeseen reason, Brita can contact me directly." He rises to make his farewells, and if everyone is agreeable, is on his way out of the room and back to Uxmal.
[Brita's done. She's going to be sketching the Dara Trump Sketch for Brennan and working on her Conner Trump.]
Brita quickly realizes that she doesn't know Dara well enough to sketch her, and that she's not going to be able to make a trump of her at the present time.
So Brita can't do a Sketch of Dara even with Ambrose's input?
Brita simply doesn't know her well enough to get anywhere close even with Ambrose's help. It would take a master of Reid's caliber to do it, she thinks, and even he might find it difficult.
It seems like it's harder than it should be. It's like she isn't who she is. It works for a moment, and then *pfff*, wrong.
Brita tears out the last attempt that went wrong and stares at it for a bit. She then takes another piece of paper and writes a short note to her mother:
Artist Mother,
Cousin Brennan suggested making a Trump of Dara as a Possible Means of Monitoring or Attack. I have enclosed my Last Attempt. There is Something Wrong - perhaps Beyond my Lack of Knowledge and Skill. If you have Time, Examine this and Help me Understand.Brita
In the morning, she receives a reply.
My dearest daughter,
The problem is not in your Art. Dara is a shapeshifter and it is difficult to fix her form and depict it for any magical purpose. It would take an Artist of considerable experience and expertise to depict her.
I was not aware that you had spent so much time in her presence that you knew her well enough to make a trump of her. Beware of attacking through a trump unless it is direly necessary, for the King will take an attempted murder by such means badly because of what happened to his son.
Your mother,
Fiona
She'll work on several sketches of Brennan (working to a Sketch) and work more heavily on the Trump of Conner.
Neither of these items will be complete by the time the next day rolls around.
She will do all she can and then carefully pack her art supplies in a pack and the Sketch and Trump in a small leather tube. In the morning, she heads off to the meeting with her cousins.
Ossian will spend his "free time" making a Trump sketch of his room, and attempt to make a Trump sketch of the Abford Guild Hall. He will also (with Meg's help) try to make a few non-Trumpy sketches (shouldn't take too much time) of the Guild Hall interior.
[Card draw: Inspiration (reversed), or Lack of Imagination. Dude, the deck hates you. I am generously not making the other draw right this minute.]
[Hehe. I appreciate that you told me which card you drew.]
Ossian starts work on the trump of the Guild Hall. He rapidly realizes he's having trouble and will either need to extend the time he works on the sketch or accept a much shorter duration, probably in the vicinity of a couple of weeks.
If he accepts the shorter duration, he'll have time to try for the sketches of the interior and the trump sketch of his room.
He goes with the shorter duration then.
[Card draw for the room sketch: The Satyr, or Indulgence. For some reason that seems likely to me to shorten the duration, but not the way the other did.]
This sketch will last a month. Plus, Ossian can complete the other sketches, with or without Meg's help.
Meg has a go at drawing the interior. She's untrained, and doesn't seem to have a handle on perspective, but does her best to give an impression of the interior of the hall, paying most attention to layout.
Last modified: 3 March 2006