Pen crouches in the bushes, the Ironwood Bow of Dodana at the ready.
Queen Thalestris has personally sent her to scout the source of the green sickness. Pen has had to kill and burn a dozen warriors, farmers and sailors who had been taken by it, and traced them back to this place.
She'd burned the corpses, of course. They'd learned that the hard way.
The creatures have been getting stronger, too as she nears the source. Below her lies a sprawling wooded valley: the gateway to Arcadia, the fey realm of the Five Goddesses. Pen has been here before, but not often.
The Arcadian goddesses and their peoples have fallen to inter-sororal warfare. Artemis has been a capricious neighbor, as suits a goddess. Sometimes she has offered gifts; sometimes she has punished Pontus for its failures. That was before the war. Since then, refugees have spilled over the border. They're either the best hope of knowledge of the green sickness or the cause of it, at least according to the experts at court.
The arguments were ugly, and Pen had been the Queen's solution. This valley had been an unpopulated land, green with scrubby, twisted trees and no people when she had last been here. It's almost the same now, with a few additions. The first is a vast web of small lights, like candles or torches. The forest isn't burning, but it smells like fire.
Possibly it's magic of some sort.
The second addition is a small group of men, a long bow-shot away, methodically clearing the lights. They don't look like they were from Pontus or Arcadia. They haven't seen her yet.
Pen, sheltered by the bushes, grabs the recurved limbs of the ironwood bow from her back and reaches down for the tightly-woven grey cord in the leather pouch at her belt. As she fastens the loop to the bottom limb of the bow she quietly whispers a prayer to Artemis, as she and others before her have many times before in gratitude for this gift. What follows is a moment of terrible exertion and focus as the palintonos recurved limbs bend back and the looped cord is drawn to the other side. As the loop slips over the groove, the bow tenses for a moment and is suddenly still. The arrows in her quiver are heavier than targets, affixed with sharp, bladed tips, and barbed. The fletching comes from the great cormorants in Lyca Bay and will make each arrow fly true. Pen knows that she can easily kill a man at the right distance. She would rather have answers than bodies. Her movements are careful, quiet, slow and deliberate as if she were stalking a stag or a bird of prey. She moves until she was close enough that it became less a question of 'would I hit them' and more choosing where; even if they ran, they would still be in deadly range. She knocks one arrow and aims it at a tree between the men. She scatters four more in front of her. She pulls back the bowstring, holds her breath and lets it loose, sinking halfway into a tree. She calls out in a booming voice, behind cover, "Identify yourselves now and state your business in this land. Speak true and without hesitation."
The oldest, at the back, is a grizzled verteran. "We're not foes of anyone who isn't infected with the green, even if they're a bit fast with the deadly weapons. We are Rangers out of Arden and we're scouting the source of the fire-lilies for Prince Julian."
The others are all on edge. The leader seems calm, although he's clearly looking for her position. It's what she would do if things were reversed.
"Are the threats sufficient that shooting first and asking questions second is the way of things around here? How about'ed you come out," he says, looking basically at her position, "and we can talk and see if we can help each other and nobody has to bleed?"
Pen steps out and lowers the bow to her side, the arrow still knocked loosely at her hip. She says, "I've seen too many poor souls overrun with the green sickness these recent days, and I'm in no hurry to light another bonfire. I don't know that I've heard of your Prince Julian, but he has a fair name for a fey. Is Arden in Arcadia? My Queen has sent me to find the source of the green sickness so that I might put an end to it. We believe it to be a curse conceived in the Realm of Five Goddesses. You have my assurance that I will make no effort to injure you if you afford me the same courtesy."
"That sounds like the best deal we could hope for, so we'll take it. "He makes a quick hand motion, and the other three all seem to relax. He's still got the look of a long-time veteran in hostile country, but he doesn't seem to be immediately on the verge of attacking.
"They're neighbors, very likely like the place you're from, but on another border. Prince Julian tells us the five goddesses of Arcadia are warring with each other, and it has something to do with their mother, who has become more active and more of a threat recently. Those burning flowers are hers." He looks unpleased at the thought of them, somehow.
"We've got a campsite in the clearing back there, would you like some coffee? I'd like to hear more about the green sickness in your shadow. Name's Vista by the way. Ranger Vista."
Pen looks relieved and slides the nocked arrow out from the bow and over her shoulder, back to the quiver. She slings her bow as well and steps up to Ranger Vista, offering an open hand.
"Captain Penthelisea of the Glorious Cataprhract, but you can call me Pen. I'm grateful for your hospitality. My thanks to you and the good Prince of Arden."
As they walk to the clearing, Pen explains everything she's seen and been told about the green sickness. In particular, she relates how she encountered the infected, how she learned that the bodies must be burned, and how they were getting stronger the closer she came to Arcadia. She had hoped to learn more about the sickness from refugees of the Arcadian War, but met few travelers.
"Ranger Vista, tell me more of these burning flowers."
The flowers range from wine-red to velvety black and are actually on fire. They radiate heat and seem to grow from unexpected places, including on rocks, creeks, and the sides of trees, as if they don't have roots. Pen had never seen any until she came to the Arcadian valley.
The other rangers seem to be trainees, and young. If this was the Glorious, they would be on a training patrol. Perhaps they are.
Vista agrees. "Sure will, Captain, if you'll tell me how far they've gotten into your homeland and what y'all are doing about it." He grins, and it's friendly, but not happy.
One of the other Rangers hands Pen a tin mug of hot coffee, and then gets one for Vista as well. Pen notes that they have set a watch around the camp.
Vista isn't on watch, but he's watchful. "Those firelilies are spies, or so we hear. They grow everywhere in Arcadia, and the Warden -- that's Prince Julian's title, in Arden. Anyway, he says they are the eyes and ears of the Dragon. We're here to blind and deafen her, to the extent that we can, and to learn what we can, of course." He blows on his coffee, and continues. "The Great Dragon of Arcadia, the mother of Goddesses, is waking. He doesn't think she'll be fully awake for a long time, but even stirring, she's caused many deaths.
"The firelilies are involved in the green sickness, too. And it comes for those who are related to the Warden first of all."
"Ranger Vista, the green sickness is a recent blight in Pontus, the place where I'm from. The herbalists were the first to notice its coming, but once the infection struck we learned quickly how the bodies must be burned." She takes a long pull of the coffee and let its warmth wash over her. "Understand, my people are very practical. We study, we debate, and then we act. It was clear that this curse was much larger than my home and so I was tasked to learn more about it and find a way to end it. My Queen and all my sisters are counting on me.
"You say that these firelilies are spies for The Great Dragon of Arcadia, then I will gladly help you weed them from this place."
Pen watches how the rangers remove the lilies and then she follows suit. When Pen gets her mind settled on a task it can be hard to shake her from it, and so she will remove as many of the cursed flowers as she can, and then return to camp and find a nice warm place by the fire to lay her bedroll.
"Glad to have your help, and please, call me Vista. We're not much on heirarchy and titles."
"I'm Nails," says one of the older recruits. He seems somewhat clumsy, as if he's out of his element. Pen gets the feeling he's learned a lot of things the hard way. "We cut 'em at night, when the moon has set. It's easier to find the Unicorn-blighted things. They stop burning if you cut them, but you have to immerse them in water. They'll grow on anything, so if you cut it and drop it, it'll be back."
Vista grins, although Nails doesn't. "And if you cut enough of 'em, the infecteds attack. Here's what to look out for here in Arcadia. Things that should kill them... don't. We lost a lot of good rangers before we realized that. The good news for Pontus is that the farther they get from the Dragon, the less that works. The bad news for us, is we're in Arcadia."
Nails looks to his recruits. "Pair up, rangers. Captain Pen, would you join me, or do you want to go with Vista and Dollop?"
The work goes as described, and after a few hours, the firelillies are less of a presence in the valley, and the valley no longer looks like a field of stars.
Pen thanks Nails for the offer and pairs up with him to help clear away a section of firelilies. She pays close attention to how they're cut and submerged in water. She makes sure their bucket has enough water to subdue them, but not so much that they run out of room. She asks Nails about his time with the Rangers, and what more he can say about the Great Dragon of Arcadia and his experience fighting the infected.
Nails has faught the infected. He tells Pen about the fights, the tactics they use, and the horror of having to fight the bodies of rangers he knew who got infected. And having to burn them afterwards. "If you're really close to the Dragon, or she's paying particular attention to you, then you have to break every bone in their body. Animals, people, whatever. Out here, it's more like mind control and extra strength. What we're doing here is going to attract 'em. But it's already done some good. If those firelilies get into Pontus, you're going to have real problems.
"Luckily, the Prince is fighting them. We've pushed them back in Arden and Broceliande, which may be why they're coming this way." Nails pauses.
"For whatever reason of magic or just bad intent, they focus on his family. I think you people call his children demi-gods. I'm not even sure what that means.
"I'm sorry it's not a better story. We win the fights, but someone will have to deal with the Dragon, and that not something the Rangers can do."
He dunks another flower in the bucket, almost catching his own hair on fire in the process.
When the valley is thinner with firelilies, Pen returns to her campfire, lays out her bedroll and settles into sleep with her ironwood bow right next to her. The quiver is less than a foot away.
She eats some of the rations from her back pouch, lets exhaustion wash over her and it isn't long before she's dreaming. She's running through the woods and the canopy becomes blackout dark. She starts a fire, catches a hare, skins it, cooks it, and starts to fall asleep when there's a poke at her midsection. She looks up to barely see Risto squatting before her. "Trouble is coming, Pen. Best get on your feet and be ready."
"Trouble is coming," repeats Aristomache. "These Rangers aren't an army. Do you even know what their plan is? They're looking to start a fight, and they know how they're going to get out of here if there's too many of the infected. Do you?"
Pen is awakened by a hand on her shoulder. Nails' voice is urgent and quiet. "Captain, we've got trouble."
Pen takes a long breath as she stands and she can feel something has changed. The air is noticeably cooler and there's a sound like distant thunder, but no rain. In the absence of many of the firelilies the only illumination comes from a few campfires. She sees Nails grab a longsword and shield and charges at one of the invaders. She reaches down for her bow and slings her quiver. These infected are not villagers or farmhands. These are soldiers. They each stand one and a half times the size of the rangers, and they're armored in brigandine and equipped with over-sized spears, pikes and axes. Nails is a crafty fighter and agile, and though he may best the beast in front of him, he'll be dead if he's facing more than one at once.
Pen swiftly grabs for an arrow, slides it into place and smoothly pulls the string. She feels the full tension of the Ironwood bow as she aims, holds a breath, and then lets it's loose as the arrow flies, whispering death. The arrow finds its mark and sinks into the throat of the soldier Nails is fighting. A lucky shot as she was aiming for the head, and unsure if the arrow would pierce the brigandine. The infected invader is stunned and drops to its knees. Nails turns and raises his sword in thanks then he brings his sword down with all his might to pierce the armor and put the thing down for good.
Four more armored figures emerge into the fray and two of the rangers fall to their tactics. As Pen feared, they are not all lone wolves, and these four flank the rangers and work together. She takes aim at one of them and the arrow pierces its thigh, causing it to howl in pain, but it's still standing. She quickly draws and fires another shaft at its neighbor, but this soldier is ready and moves quickly enough to evade the arrow. Nails and one of his ranger comrades have killed the fourth one. Suddenly the campfire closest to Pen explodes with a roar from a warm and gentle blaze blooming to a fearful, unnatural towering conflagration. The roar of the fire disguises the heavy hoofbeats of the beast that charges Pen from her left side in the darkness. The creature is twice her size and armored in a similar brigandine as the others. It shoulders an enormous stylized dragon pauldron, which hits her square in the face as the brute collides with the speed of a team of horses at full gallop. She sees it clearly illuminated for a moment as the fire went mad, and is taken by its appearance. It has the head of a ram with tremendous horns, red with gore, and the heavily muscled frame of a man, its legs ending in hooves. More terrifying still, it doesn't appear to be armed. It must not have thought we were threat enough to bring a weapon.
The wind leaves Pen's lungs with quickness as the ram-thing sends her across the camp, spinning onto the ground. She should be unconscious. Hell, she should be dead. She gasps trying to get her breath back, and she's surprised that the coup de grace didn't follow. She half-expected to see ram horns run through her chest, but as she takes in a long, deep breath she hears the beast giving orders to the soldiers. It must have rank in the Dragon's army, and assumed she was dead.
That was a mistake.
Pen had fought carefully before and patiently, quickly but carefully choosing her shots. That time has passed. Rage coursed through her veins as she got to her feet and let her anger wash over her and light up her nerves like fire. There had certainly been pain, and there would be again later, but for the moment all of that was gone. She charged the ram-beast as fast as she could and once she was within three yards of it, she jumped and landed on its back. Her hands grabbed the horns and her legs slipped around its immense neck. The beast spun, confused and desperate to remove the crazed thing squeezing the air out of its trachea. It swung its head wildly in hopes of expelling the threat, but Pen was not so easily thrown. She squeezed her legs even tighter, her boots hooking into an unbreakable lock and the beast began to stagger. It swung its fists, punching behind it and Pen felt those heavy blows through the rush of rage. 'The bruises are going to be colorful', she said to herself as each hammer blow was a little lighter than its predecessor. Finally, the beast fell to the ground, unconscious, and Pen rode it down.
Pen looks up as she drives the beast's head into the dirt. She's breathing heavily, and s pretty sure she's broken at least three ribs.
The three remaining Rangers are running up, all in varying stages of hurt. "Pen, Captain, we've gotta go! Pull back!"
The fire, whatever they did to it, is magically raging. Vista and Nails pull her up and Nails puts a makeshift torch to the still-quivering ram-beast.
The valley looks transformed, and she's not even sure how to find the pass back to Pontus. The stars overhead look different, as if they changed from the ones she saw last night.
"We'll regroup at the river," says Vista.
Pen's head was spinning and the rage had burned itself out. She followed Vista and Nails as quickly as she could, but she fell behind a little as there was an argument going on between her head and her ribs right now as to which hurt more. The ribs had a strong lead. A few dozen paces more and they had reached the horses. Pen hadn't ever been so happy to see Melanippe. She was able to push herself up into the saddle with a stirrup, but swinging her leg across sent a wave of intense pain into her ribs. Pain was something she had learned how to manage, as all amazons do, and she discovered early on that she had a real talent for dealing with it, however, this was as close to a blackout as she'd come in a while. The pain from the gentle gallop was uncomfortable but easier to control. The sky was wrong, but she couldn't tell exactly how. It was as if the forest had moved from where it was to somewhere else. Pen couldn't make sense of it and didn't have the wits to theorize just then. The river came up quickly and she took a deep breath and a sharp inhale before dismounting. She pet Mel thankfully, and promised her a few apples when they were safe.
"Rangers Vista and Nails," she extends her right arm and clasps them each with vigor. "We've fought together against monsters so if we weren't friends before, we are now. This will require at least a few drinks when time permits."
She sees Vista's forced smile, and asked him, "I'm sorry. How many rangers did you lose today?"
"Half the recruits," says Nails. There are two empty horses being led, and the two remaining youngsters, Dollop and Chard, start redistributing the load. "Ranger Vista, you should take a look at the Captain's injuries. I think they're the most severe of us."
Vista nods. "I was going to offer. You did good taking down that monster, Pen. We don't usually have this much of a response. I'm not sure if that means they're getting stronger or more desperate. Thanks, by the way. We might've been another lost patrol if it wasn't for you."
Nails nods. "When we're in Arden, you'll need to adjust your tactics if we fight them again. You want to aim to disable them. They aren't necessarily breathing, so a throat shot won't put one down. Nor a heart shot. Take out the knees is what our archers try for."
If she allows, Vista will clean and bandage her head and put a tight compression bandage around her ribs. "That'll get you to camp and a real medic, " he says. "We should take you back to the main camp. They need to know what's happened here and what happened in Pontus. Also, we can have that drink there."
Pen, who has had her bell rung more than she'd like to admit, sits quietly as Vista methodically cleans and bandages her wounds. Her left eye is swollen shut and bandaged over. She mutters a few complimentary statements about Vista's skill with first aid, and takes a sharp inhalation of breath as the compression bandage around her ribs is wrapped. She smiles. Once it's set in place, it actually does feel better, at least it makes the horse riding more comfortable.
The ride back to the main camp passes quickly for Pen, but this is mostly due to her occasionally dozing in the saddle, sometimes quietly singing a few Pontian campfire songs (which she would apologize for later if she had remembered that she'd done it), and telling a favorite tale of her love, Chiroppe. She vaguely remembers the latter.
When they reach the main camp, there are introductions all around, and she makes the acquaintance of the medic, a lovely woman named Sherrell, who reminds her of a girl she knew in her youth. That same honey-colored hair. She smells nice, too. Sherrell feels Pen's forehead, curses and directs Vista and Nails to set her down on a cot in the medic's tent. Pen lays peacefully until she's given a brew to combat her fever. It tastes dreadful, but she gets it down and tells Sherrell with some insistence that she owes Rangers Vista and Nails some drinks. Pen apologizes for her current state and then falls into a deep sleep, whispering "Chiroppe".
There are no dreams, no prophetic images, no delightful carousing with old friends, only peaceful slumber.
Pen wakes to the smell of tea brewing and Sherrell changing her head bandages. "How long?" Pen asks. Medic Sherrell, who's right above her and still smells nice, responds, "Three days, but the fever broke. You need to go slow." Pen starts to sit up, and Sherrell gently, but firmly pushes her back down. "I said slow. You heal fast, but you need more rest." Pen wants to argue almost as much as she wants to play with Sherrell's hair, but that would be rude so she decides to go back to sleep.
The next day when she awakes, she sits up and the pain in her ribs is still present, but less vibrant. Her head hurts, but less like she'd been hit by a team of horses, and her closed eye is now open. Ranger Vista is at the tent flap. "Good, you're awake. Do you feel up to talking?"
She gets up and this time Medic Sherrell couldn't keep her down. "Lead the way, my friend."
"We'll get out of Sherrell's way, maybe let her have some of that chicory stuff she drinks instead of coffee."
The camp is as Pen remembers it; large and well-organized, if informally so. There's a tent that clearly belongs to the commander, which would be the Prince that Vista was talking about before she fell over.
Vista sees her looking and tells her that Julian went back into Arcadia with enough forces to take down any more of the monsters that knocked her down, but he's keen to speak with her when he comes back.
Vista picks up a warm beverage and offers her one. The two of them walk outside to a site overlooking a training ground. She'd call it a parade ground but none of these soldiers really look like the parade type.
"Welcome to Arden," says Vista. "Or The Warbase or whatever we're calling this part of it this week. Sherrell says you're feeling better?"
Pen nods, "I am indeed. I had a terrible accident as a child and nearly died, but after I recovered from that I swore that I'd never spend a day longer than necessary in a sickbed. I heal much quicker than I used to, and luckily I have a thick skull." She gently raps on the side of head with her knuckles.
Pen takes a sip. "Your Prince Julian must be fearless to charge into Arcadia after that," and then soberly, "I'm so very sorry about your recruits, Vista. They fought well."
Vista nods, "They would've been good rangers, but they were still green and outmaneuvered by trained soldiers. We expected a response, but nothing like what we received."
"Well, we got the Dragon's attention alright," Pen says, and then she takes a few steps, staring into the distance.
"What is it?" Vista asks.
"That grove," she says, pointing. "I know this sounds mad, but I used to play in it when I was a little girl, except it was in Pontus. The space between the trees, the way the sun peeks through the canopy, the flowers, it was exactly the same."
Vista chuckles, "Captain Pen, Arden is a curious place, but if you go looking you'll find some part of every forest you've ever visited here. It's hard to explain."
The sentries greet someone arriving in the camp and there's a shifting as everyone seems to straighten up with the new arrival. He's a thin fellow in white scale armor on the largest horse Pen has ever seen. The horse is looking at Pen as if it's assessing her. Meanwhile the rider dismounts, unaided, and Vista approaches him. "Warden. This here's Captain Pen from Pontus, that I told you about."
The Warden has a narrow face, dark hair, and long fingers, which become evident as he pulls off his leather riding gloves. "Greetings, Captain. I am Julian of Amber, the Warden of this forest under the Crown of Amber. Since all appears to be in order--" he glances around; someone has already taken his horse's reins, which seems to be a bit of a formality as that horse is going only when it wants to "--let us repair to my tent and talk."
Pen follows the Warden to his tent, and along the way extols the virtues of Rangers Vista and Nails as well as the ministrations of Medic Sherrell. "I'd taken a good measure of heavy blows in our battle, and would likely not have survived without their assistance on my behalf. I'm in their debt, and by extension, yours."
Pen proceeds to explain why she was sent by the Queen from Pontus, what little she can offer of her experience with the sickness and how she came upon the Rangers and the firelilies.
She is doing her best to be organized, methodical and polite, and although her head is much better than it was, she's surprised to discover that she's a little light on her feet, which is to say, she probably needs a little more time prone. She endeavors to not slur her words or demonstrate any weakness.
Julian's tent is clearly his war headquarters. There are young Rangers, possibly trainees, outside: Julian sends one of them for a meal for two, and the youth dashes off. Inside, Pen finds it is well appointed for war: camp tables, tubes of what appear to be maps, a stand for his armor, and chairs, which he gestures Pen toward. There is a curtained-off section which is probably his sleeping chamber.
"Vista is one of my senior Rangers; I expect no less of him. I am generally familiar with Pontus through my involvement in Arcadia, though I have not been there in generations as you count time. I do not know your Queen Thalestris; I would have met one of her predecessors. In the late war--" he doesn't clarify; he seems to expect Pen to know which one; "--the Dragon of Arcadia has awakened. She is trying to swallow Arden into her realm, and will, in due time, seek to swallow Pontus too. The firelillies are one of her methods of extending her power, because of how they were created. The green sickness is a different method of the same thing. I hope we can use this meeting toward founding an alliance against the Green."
At this point, the tent flap opens and the two trainees bring in a meal: a stew of fresh roasted meat and root vegetables, lightly spiced, and bread that was clearly made in a travel pan. Nothing fancy, just wholesome and filling.
"Eat up," Julian tells her, "and then tell me of your home and family." He takes to his own bowl with fine manners, but the speed of a man used to eating while working and not letting his dinner interfere with his work.
The presentation of a warm meal reminds Pen how long it's been since she's eaten, and she attempts to slow down, if not for her manners then for her health. She's intrigued by the Warden, who claims to be several generations old and yet his hair is black as a raven's feather.
"I am the only daughter of the lady Myrina, not native to Pontus, but an immigrant. She arrived thirty years ago pregnant with me and on the run from something..." Pen sighs, "She never really explained what." Pen reaches into her pouch and withdraws a disc of polished brass, as she flips it you can see a flat smooth stone with an incredible painting of Myrina, captured by the brilliance that is Chirope. There is a bittersweet moment as Pen dwells upon her lost Mother and the work of her true love, whom she has not seen for many years. "We had a peculiar relationship. I don't think she ever expected to be a Mother, but once she truly accepted the responsibility, she grew to love me. Every great achievement that ever bloomed from me was at least in part seeded by her. I tell you true, I miss her counsel. She was direct, often painfully honest, but brilliant. No wasted words. She disappeared some sixteen years now. We have no idea what happened to her."
Julian does not ask to take the painting of Myrina for a closer look, but Pen notices his interest in it.
Pen collects herself and focuses on the business at hand. She wipes away a tear, embarrassed at having let her emotions escape so readily. "My apologies for my candor."
"No offense taken," Julian says.
"Master Warden, I speak with the authority of my Queen. She charged me to discover the source of the Green sickness and to find a way to combat it and ultimately defeat it. My people train for war and are resolute. When we move towards a cause, we move as one. I can gladly swear myself to this alliance against the Dragon of Arcadia and I expect once I reach Pontus and advocate for this cause to Queen Thalestris then I might provide you with the cavalry of the Glorious Cataphracti. I want to help."
"I think it would be wise to discuss this with my brother, the King of Amber and Xanadu," Julian says. "If you are willing, I will send you to him. This will also give you some time to rest and recover from your injuries. And if you have a token or a message that I can send to Queen Thalaestris, I could select an appropriate Ranger to send in your place. Would this be agreeable to you?"
"Master Warden is most kind," Pen says with palpable excitement. She stands, bows, and then winces just a little at the bend because Pen bows like a boss, and then points towards a quill, inkwell, and some foolscap. "Master Warden, may I?"
Assuming Julian gives her permission, Pen will quickly draft a coded note to Queen Thalestris. The note is written in Pontian in a military cipher she learned when she first joined the glorious cataphracti. It provides a concise recap of what has transpired since Pen left and addresses a potential (and recommended) alliance with the forces of Prince Julian of Amber, Warden of Arden, and Pontus' available armed calvary against our common enemy, the Dragon of Arcadia, source of the Green sickness. Pen adds that she is en route to meet with King Random of Amber and Xanadu. She promises to send another message when she has more information. If possible, she will quickly roll and seal the message.
She proffers the sealed message to Julian. "I am in your debt, sir. If, as you said, this could be delivered to Queen Thalestris of Pontus, I would be most grateful. In regards to the ride to Amber, I should revisit Medic Sherrell and ask her to wrap my bandage tight one last time before I mount up. Can you spare a ranger to guide me? If not, I'm good at finding my bearings and can take direction."
"I have a more direct route in mind for your travels." He rises again and opens the tent flap. "Pack the Captain's belongings and bring them to us as soon as possible, please. And ask Sherrell to attend on us as soon as she can be spared."
Pen can hear a chorus of "Aye, Warden," from the Rangers.
Julian has been moving quickly enough that he hasn't even had time to disarm properly. He takes a moment now to remove his sword belt and place it over the valet stand that's clearly meant for his armor. He opens one of the pouches and draws out a deck of cards, which he shuffles through.
Medic Sherrell arrives and inspects Pen. While Sherrell is examining Pen, another ranger, a young woman, brings in Pen's things: armor, her great bow and arrows, her other weapons, and the rest of her supplies. When Pen takes a moment to check her things, she finds everything intact, and the ranger offers to find anything missing.
"I think she'll need another day of rest at least before she rides, Warden," Sherrell tells Julian at the end. She's clearly not bothered about the idea of telling him so even though he's clearly planning to send her onward.
Julian says, "I'm sending her directly to Gerard," which seems to satisfy Sherrell. He has found the card he's looking for. "If you're ready, Captain," he says, "take your things in hand."
Then it appears as if he's speaking to the card. "Gerard, it's Julian. I have a young woman here, a Captain from Pontus on the far side of Arcadia. She needs to speak to Random. Will you take her?"
A moment later, he holds out his hand to Pen.
Pen, loaded with her gear, quickly eclipses a surprised Medic Sherrell in a very gentle, but appreciative hug. "I will try not to undo your work," says Pen, "Thank you for all your care."
Pen turns and nods to Julian, then takes a step forward and grabs his hand.
Pen is standing with Julian and she can see that he's holding the hand of another man, a very large man, who's sitting in a wheelchair made of metal, sitting in a room with walls painted red at the top, with wood panels painted white up to about half-height on the wall. There's a wooden table next to the wheelchair on one side. As Pen is taking this in, another person, a young woman, takes the hand of the man in the wheelchair.
The man in the wheelchair reaches out to her with his other hand and says, "Lass, take my hand, and step forward."
Robin watches Vere leave with a mixture of fondness and sadness in her eyes. She also notes Brita leaving in Conner's company. With a sigh, Robin promises herself that she won't abandon Brita this time. Then with a fluff and a shake of her head, Robin enters the Castle herself in search of her Father.
When Robin finds a page to ask where Prince Julian is, the page tells her that her father isn't in the castle, and is there anyone else she'd like to speak to, because the page can show Robin the way?
"Yes." Robin nods. "Is King Corwin in the castle?"
The last the page heard, King Corwin and Prince Gerard and the Lady Corvis were in one of the sitting rooms after the King cleared the Throne Room. The page can take Lady Robin?
Robin thanks the page and gestures for them to proceed her. As she walks the hallways of Xanadu, Robin tries to recall all that she just heard. The Ranger is definitely overwhelmed but she thinks she retains the high points: Queen in the hands of the Moonriders, King doing better due to something Folly is embarrassed about, pattern of the Patterns (mostly conjecture), and Klybesians are organized bad (also mostly conjecture.) There was some stuff about a magic circle and zombies too. Robin sighs, she would love to fight zombies but her path is different.
Robin comes back to the here and now, just as the page is knocking on a sitting room door.
The door opens, and the page announces Sir Robin. Corwin comes to his feet from the red sofa he's sitting on. Gerard's wheelchair is pulled up near Corwin and while he, of course, doesn't rise, he does brighten and grin at the sight of her. "Robin," Gerard says, "what can we do for ye?"
"Robin," Corwin acknowledges her, and gestures for her to join them. There are red-cushioned chairs in the little conversational circle in what is clearly the Red Parlor, so she won't have to share the sofa with Corwin.
"Uncle, Your Majesty." Robin smiles as she enters the room, looking around.
Robin hops lightly over to hug Gerard before seating herself in one of the cushioned chairs. "I wanted to get my dibs in on something in the chest we brought in Uncle. I've already discussed it with Brita, who I'm guessing is kind of Reid's heir." A look of sadness crosses her face at Reid's need to have an heir. "Anyway," she perks up, "it's a framed tattoo of a clearing in Arden. Have you seen it?"
Gerard returns her hug with avuncular enthusiasm.
"One of Gilt's people took charge of the box. I'll ask for it to be sent here," Corwin says. "I haven't seen it." He moves to the door to summon a page for it.
Gerard frowns. "I vaguely remember hearing of such a thing. I know Reid, Unicorn protect him, was interested in all sorts of strange Trumps."
The fair is outside the window, looking mournfully at Robin; clearly they expected an open window, and this is not.
Robin nods as she stands and makes her way toward the window. If possible, she'll open it to let the faire in.
The window is a complicated mechanism compared to what Robin is used to in Castle Amber, but it opens easily enough once Robin gets the trick of it. The fair greets her enthusiastically, then looks for tidbits. They're hungry again, of course.
"It is one of Reid's experiments," she says. "I'm also concerned about how something I last saw in Arden got into Klybesian hands." Robin purses her lips in distaste. There's definitely too many leaks through Arden these days.
Looking back to Corwin, Robin clears her throat. "Your Majesty? If you have a moment sometime soon, there's a couple of things I need to discuss with you privately."
"Of course; shall we step out, and leave Gerard to your dragonlings?" Corwin offers. "Or if it's too long, let's plan for a quick supper this evening, so I can be back to Paris. I don't mind leaving Flora in charge, but I don't like to do it for too long."
"It shouldn't be too long." Robin says as she returns the enthusiastic greeting of the firelizards. Unfortunately, she has no tidbits but she knows how to get them. "A walk should be fine."
Meanwhile, behind her, Gerard says, "Who calls?" and then a pause, and "Aye, send her through, but also Robin's here and I'm sure she'll want to speak with you, Julian." And he holds out his hand to Robin to join in what is obviously a Trump connection.
"A moment if you please, Your Majesty. I should take this opportunity to speak to my Father."
"Of course," Corwin says. He also moves toward Gerard, but not too close: not to join in the conversation but to be ready if needed.
Assuming Corwin agrees, Robin and faire walk over to Gerard. She nods her thanks to her favorite Uncle. Remembering what the King said about mental leakage on Trump calls, Robin takes a moment to take a deep breath and clear her mind. Then she takes Gerard's hand. "Father?" she thinks, hopefully not too loudly this time.
As Robin enters the connection, she can see that Julian is holding the hand of another young woman, one who's clearly had the attentions of a medic from the Rangers and looks a bit rough around the edges. Julian is in the commander's tent and one of the medics is standing close by with what looks like the armor belonging to Julian's guest and her bow and arrows. The bow is lovely, one of the best that Robin has ever seen.
Julian's warmth filters through the connection to Robin like the sun.
Robin reflects that warmth back to her father like sunlight reflecting off a rippling lake.
Gerard reaches for the newcomer with his free hand and says, "Lass, take my hand, and step forward."
Pen takes Gerard's hand and steps through. She looks surprised and a little disoriented, but recognizes the importance of making a good first impression.
"Captain Penthelisea of the Glorious Cataphract, daughter of Myrina, and envoy of Queen Thalestris of Pontus. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She assumes the gentleman in the chair may be King Random.
Pen has straw blond hair, just past her shoulders, blue eyes, and a strange look of delight for someone tightly bandaged about the waist and sporting a real bruiser of a black eye. The left eye looks like it was recently swollen shut, but is mostly open now and surrounded by purple and orange. She still has a bandage wrapped around her head like a tiara, but it looks like she loosened it at some point and it may not serve a function at this point other than medical decoration. She's decked in Amazonian armor, a sturdy linothorax cuirass reinforced with strips of curved metal, leather and metal bracers and pteurges, a defensive skirt of heavy leather strips at her waist. Her legs and feet are clad in buskins, covered by sculpted ornate brass greaves. The overall design is elegant in its protection of vital areas without much restriction of movement. The bow is a spartan palintonos bow of ironwood with reflexed limbs, strung very tightly. The arrows are long and heavy and look like they are meant to put someone (or something) down in one shot. She also has an ornate Amazonian spear and a gladius, hanging from her hip. She has a remarkable physique, even for an Amazon, and carries herself with the countenance and confidence of an experienced soldier (who recently had the stuffing knocked out of her).
Robin smiles brightly and nods an acknowledgement to the Amazon but maintains her Trump contact through Gerard to Julian. Though she can't help an appreciative widening of the eyes at the Bow.
Robin is a plush medium height young woman who still has some baby fat accenting her curves. She has the deep tan of someone who spends a lot of times outdoors and green eyes sparkle out of heart-shaped face.
Robin's shoulder length blonde hair is swept back for her face and is decorated with numerous small beads, feathers, shell fragments and one small mouse skull.
She is dressed in sturdy trousers of dark blue cotton, a simple white linen shirt and a navy blue vest of light wool. The clothes fit her well, but they don't suit her. They have the look of something thrown on from a limited selection.
At her belt is a scabbarded sword. The scabbard seems both new and battered, but the sword itself looks like a mastercraft.
But perhaps most striking is the small dragon sitting on Robin's shoulder. Gold and about the size of a housecat, the dragonet has colorful whirling eyes that trace everything in the room, but especially the other two bronze dragonets that hover nearby.
Gerard releases Pen's hand (which brings her out of the contact). "Gerard of Amber," Gerard says, "And this is my brother Corwin, King of Paris." He offers a head tilt in the direction of the other man, who is dressed all in black and silver and wears a sword belt with a sheathed blade at his side. Corwin looks a little surprised at the entire interaction, but friendly.
"Let me help you with that," Corwin says to Pen, moving to take her things from her hand and set them aside on one of the empty chairs.
Pen attempts diplomatic composure, trying to focus on protocol and obviously failing in the face of the effortless charm exuded by the royal figure in black and silver.
"King Corwin, um... Your Majesty? I'm not sure what protocol I should -- uh, I very much appreciate your offer of assistance, but honestly, this feels odd..." as Corwin finishes setting her military burdens aside in the chair.
She smiles, finding it very easy to look at the King of Paris, and laughs, a sweet raucous pure joyous sound that causes her to put a hand to her belly. She imagines how nice it would be to have a drink with this monarch. "I'm so sorry. I've read about Kings before, of course, however, there have only been three that I've ever met before." She can hear herself, and it's like a loud alarm bell ringing in her head that she feels compelled to ignore because she's already started.
"All were would-be invaders of my homeland. One was drowned in front of what was left of his army by my mother. Another was set aflame and catapulted over a cliff, also in front of his broken troops, by my Queen, and I personally shoved a spear through the skull of the third Conquerer-to-be, who succeeded in murdering many of my friends. I was enraged and did some things that I'm not proud of, and I was not myself for some time."
There's a pause as she realizes this is definitely not an appropriate diplomatic topic, beyond oversharing and she should really shut up now. The King of Paris, who has a really beautiful, though thin, sword and seems to take care of himself (probably exercises regularly) and she felt might be the sort of person she could really open up to; he must assume she's a madwoman.
Blame it on the head injury, she said to herself, but that felt silly. Just shut up, Pen.
Corwin seems nonplussed for a moment. Perhaps he decides that she's also suffering from a head injury, but whatever conclusion he comes to, he doesn't seem to take offense. "I have no intention of making war on Pontus, so I don't think it'll be a problem, Captain. I'm sorry your homeland has suffered so in the late wars."
Over the Trump, Robin speaks to her father. "Dad? Brita and I have some errands to run, but we should be able to join the war effort in a few days. Would you have use of us?"
With Pen out of the Trump, Julian clearly feels that he can speak more freely. "You would both be welcome and I would particularly be glad of your experience. I suggest you speak to Captain Penthelisea about her recent encounter first, and I would also strongly suggest that Brita take the Captain's measure as soon as possible.
"You can tell Random that we're negotiating to make an alliance with Pontus on the far side of Arcadia to limit the spread of the Green and now, the firelillies. We need to close all the Shadow routes." Julian is clearly happy to be in contact with Robin, and the promise of her presence in Arden, but he's clearly tired and harried.
"Got it." Robin nods. "Anything you need right away?" Robin is clearly happy to be talking with her Father, but she doesn't want to hold him up if he's needed elsewhere.
"Nothing, alas, but if you could have something small, even just chocolate, to bring with you for the Rangers in camp, it would be a great help," Julian tells Robin.
"I'll help arrange for that," says Gerard. "And whiskey."
Julian laughs. "Of course."
There is a deep, repetitive tolling sound from the bell tower. Robin recognizes it as a call to arms, as do Corwin and Gerard. Pen would suspect it was a military signal even without their reaction.
A page comes to the door of the Red Parlor.
"Pardon the interruption, Your Majesty, Your Highness. Lady Brita calls for a troop of soldiers and her cousins and brothers to join her to rescue Prince Huon. The Klybesians are involved. She's in the butler's office."
In the Trump contact, Gerard says, "It's Huon, asking for help against the Klybesians. When it's over--"
"--call me," Julian says. "Unicorn guard you all."
And Gerard closes the contact.
Pen quickly picks up her gear, "I'd be happy to assist in the interest of diplomatic relations," she tells Gerard, "and he did say 'soldiers'." Pen follows whoever answers the call.
Corwin hands Pen the weapons he just put down.
Turning to the page, Robin says, "Take us to the butler's office as quickly as you can." She gives a little come along gesture to Pen as she and her faire of firelizards follow the page out at speed.
Corwin says, "Gerard, I've got this and I'll call if we need further aid," as he heads off with Pen and Robin and the fair.
"Aye, Corwin," Gerard says.
Last modified: 10 March 2021