The Second Afternoon


Martin and Folly are interrupted a few minutes later by the sound of one of Paige's servants bringing in brunch. The two of them eat without saying much, and afterwards, Martin pulls out his Trumps and contacts his father.

"Dad? I'm ready to come up. Folly's with me; will you bring us through?" After a pause, Martin extends his hand to Folly and hands her through to Random.

She finds herself standing in a room in the castle that she isn't particularly familiar with, with one hand in Random's. He's wearing a white shirt that's open to the waist, a red sash, and what Folly would describe as parachute pants tie-dyed in brown, red, and orange. It's not a look most men could pull off, but it suits Random.

For the barest instant, Folly lets her guard down; and Random, who knows her well, catches a glimpse of her true state: tired and emotionally raw, as if she'd just spent the night talking a good friend down from a bad trip and would now like nothing better than to curl up in the corner and make it all go away. She recovers quickly, though: as she takes in his attire, her eyes sparkle and she opens her mouth to say something appreciative or sarcastic or both. But...

There are three others in the room, all of whom have risen to acknowledge the new arrivals. By the style of their clothing, Folly recognizes them as coming from the Land of Peace. (If she has dealt with them, she will recognize the captains in advance; otherwise not.)

They have all been sitting on large pillows at a low table that contains a partially-consumed lunch consisting of several kinds of flatbread and sauces and meat dips to consume them with (think Lebanese or Ethiopian). There are also platters of fruit: grapes, oranges, and tropical berries.

Folly stands a little straighter and smiles warmly, the very picture of friendly good manners. The comment on Random's attire remains unuttered. For all practical purposes, she just stepped onstage.

Random relinquishes her hand and brings Martin through behind Folly. Martin eyes the spread appreciatively. Random catches the look and says, "I guess you'll be staying for lunch, then. Martin, Folly: these are our guests from the Land of Peace, Captains Hassan, Ramala, and Navneeth."

The three Captains bow to the newcomers.

Random turns back to them. "And this is my son Prince Martin, and our kinswoman, Lady Folly."

Martin returns the bow.

As does Folly. "Captain Ramala, delightful to see you again; Captain Hassan, Captain Navneeth, it is a pleasure to meet you."

Captain Hassan replies, "The pleasure is entirely ours, Lady Folly, your highness." Folly feels that Captain Navneeth may not agree, but he does not speak up. "Your king is a man of great wisdom and audacious vision. Your land cannot fail to prosper under his enlightened rule."

Random smiles, acknowledging the compliment. "Will you two be staying for lunch?" Syd is also on-stage, and his performer's body language is like a banner to Folly. She looks at his right thumb as he moves it up and down: _it's up to you, either way_ it says. He wants to talk to Folly after the show, and he wants to know if she's OK.

Folly inclines her head very slightly; and while the message is more "the show must go on" than "everything totally rocks," it is mostly reassuring. Her own thumb twitches upward in response to his query: she'll stay, and they'll talk later.

Martin gives his father a slight smile. He says "I'd be honored to join your majesty." It's not immediately clear to Folly whether the formality is onstage behavior or a sign of testiness or edginess on Martin's part. The fact that Martin just ate breakfast doesn't seem to have occurred to him either.

Folly hopes her reflexive smile of amusement at Martin's boundless appetite appears to the Captains as a gracious acceptance of the King's offer. "As would I, your majesty -- thank you," she says.

She does at least manage not to make the "your majesty" part sound ironic.

Random calls for additional cushions, which are delivered in a few minutes, and everyone seats themselves again. Martin and Folly are seated near Random, on opposite sides of him.

Folly notices that everyone is eating only with their right hands. Martin waits a moment to begins eating and catches on to the custom, deftly managing the flatbread and sauces without double-dipping. Random is equally deft; the resemblance between the two men has rarely been clearer to Folly.

Random and the captains are wrapping up a discussion of desired return cargos, a discussion in which Martin is discreetly interested. Captain Ramala, who is sitting next to Folly, asks what the appropriate sorts of costumes for a masque are.

Folly describes some of the costumes from the previous masque, from the simple to the fantastical. She admits her own preference for costumes that are whimsical but not so elaborate that they impede her ability to dance.

After a formal wrapup, the captains are escorted out, leaving behind what were obviously gifts to Random and taking what were obviously Random's gifts to them. As the servants enter to clean up the remnants of lunch, Random leads the two of them to a sitting room near the throne room and his makeshift office.

Random sprawls across a comfortable chair, indicating that they should do likewise. "You know, Dad didn't have to dress up funny when he met with foreign dignitaries."

Martin, seating himself in a nearby chair, shrugs, and starts to say something, but thinks better of it and shuts up.

Folly, though, cracks a big grin. "'Funny'?" she says as she settles herself, lotus-style, onto a comfy chair.

After all, if the pants were a little more purple, she'd probably wear them herself....

Random looks at Martin and says, "Do you have any idea why Jerod brought those guys back anyway?"

"Lir alone knows," says Martin. "I'd've thought Solange could have told him we couldn't send enough return cargo back to satisfy them, but Jerod gets a wild hare sometimes and it's hard to deter him."

"Like his sister, Jerod sometimes gazes into a future he alone can see," Folly says. "The difference is that Jerod is peering through the lens of his own overwhelming self-confidence." This last is stated as fact; although it's not high praise by any means, neither is it intended as an insult.

She continues, "I think he really believed that the experiment with laying new Shadowpaths would turn things around for Amber, that we would get back to the way things were, and in reasonably short order. That's the only thing I can figure that makes any sense."

Martin nods. "Jerod has a talent for biting off more than he can chew. When he gets the experience to back up his ambitions, he'll be formidable. I'd rather have him on my side than among the opposition."

Random grins at Martin. "I'll remember that the next time I see him."

"Anyway, our Peaceful friends. What d'you think of them?"

The question seems to be open to both Martin and Folly.

"Well, from Jerod's stories, they don't exactly live up to their name," Folly offers. "They've been on good behavior since they've gotten here, but... well, I wouldn't go rushing to piss 'em off, is all I'm saying." She considers a moment more, then adds, "Good music, though."

Random continues:

"The Navy wants to send 'em on a one-way trip to, well to just about anywhere, really. Complete waste of course."

Random shakes his head at Naval Shortsightedness and begins composing a Naval Gazing joke for later.

"You heard what they're looking for. What can we get them, and how soon?"

Martin rattles off a short list of items that he thinks can be obtained locally in Amber or Garnath, a somewhat longer list of items he thinks can be obtained in some of the trade shadows Amber currently has contact with, by shadow, and a list of items he thinks he'd have to look for a source for.

Folly adds but a few items to the list, mostly fine handcrafts that would only be traded in small quantities but that might be of interest as luxury items.

Random nods. "They'd have been a great contact when we had rich, established trading partners. As is, we're scrambling."

"Most of the local stuff we're already warehousing for them, I think," Martin says. "The rest of it will have to wait until after the coronation."

"That long? Well, it's not like I want anyone leaving to lead them home before The Big Shoe anyway. That almost has to be Jerod, doesn't it? He's the only one who knows where they came from. The Navy wants them just to go away, but I'd rather make use of this fine and unintentional present Jerod has given us."

Martin says, "Bleys knows how to get there. It's where he outfitted his navy for his run against Eric."

"Oh, capital. They'll make a fiiiiiine team. I almost want to be along to watch..." Random is grinning a lopsided grin.

Folly lets out an amused snort.

"So, I have two more secret missions for you. One for before and one for after the coronation.

"Ready? Feel free to take notes.

"First. I need enough money to pay the troops. I don't care where it comes from and I don't care what it does to Amber's economy. However, it needs to be a secret. We don't want people thinking the economy is in trouble, even if it is. We can fix it later, but I need a now solution that involves a couple of wagonsfull of gold coins.

"Ideally, with my picture on them, if you can manage it." Random grins.

Martin manages not to roll his eyes, but Folly suspects there was some effort involved.

Folly grins, as much at Martin's not-quite-reaction as at Random's comments.

"Second. I have a political problem shaping up and the football is the plum position of Royal Bard. Why anyone wants to be my bard is anyone's guess. But I don't want to favor Jerod's candidate over Corwin's, even if they aren't official."

Folly leans forward with obvious interest. Here, finally, is a subject on which she's got all kinds of ideas. She draws a breath to express one or a dozen of them, but Random continues:

"I have a solution, but I need you to bring it together for me. After the coronation, I need you two to go bring Soren back."

Folly's eyes grow wide, and her breath escapes in a joyful high-pitched squeak. She blinks a couple of times and covers her mouth with both hands; but the gesture doesn't mask her radiant smile. (It does, however, keep her from shrieking like a fangirl, which mightn't be very good for the "secret" part of the secret mission.)

Once she's recovered her composure (or part of it, anyway; she still looks as if she might spontaneously start bouncing around the room), she asks, a little breathlessly, "Really?"

Random nods. "If he'll take the gig. That's why I need you to go with Martin on this one. I'll have my own troubles after the coronation or I'd go with you. I'd rather spend the next two weeks at the Brew, but that's not in the cards." The lopsided grin again.

Folly flashes a return grin in agreement, all understanding and sympathy.

He turns to Martin. "And my drums. You can't get a decent high-hat in Amber these days."

Martin is smiling slightly.

"No promises, love --" Folly says, "-- I mean, who knows what's happened there since I've been gone, or how annoyed-at-me Soren's gonna be for my prolonged and silent absence -- but if I can get through the story without him marching me straight into rehab for all the drugs I'm obviously on, I can probably talk him into it."

"Nobody who knows you would think you're a junkie. Christ, it's like starting the band all over again.."

She pauses, and her features cloud slightly. "Hmm. Speaking of rehab...."

She trails off, lost in thought.

Martin stands up and moves over to a sideboard that stands against one side of the room, digging in it and producing some paper and a pen. He puts them in Folly's hand, and says, "You can do a profile for me, right? Otherwise the coins'll look like me, not him."

"Hmm? Oh, yeah," Folly replies. "Piece o' cake." She slouches down in the comfy chair with her knees pulled up, easel-like, in front of her, and props the paper against them.

"Hey, good idea. Make it like that bootleg version of Bloodthunder." Random strikes a ridiculous pose, then quickly drops it.

Folly laughs and puts pen to paper, dashing off two quick sketches in just a couple of minutes. The first seems drawn from her mind's eye, a decade-old memory; it shows Random in full profile with smiling eyes and a laughing mouth and hair a little too long. The second, a partial profile, looks both more formal and more current, but there's still a sparkle in the eye and a slight quirk to the corner of the mouth that reveals the joker behind the king. She considers the image a moment, then adds a small pair of drumsticks in the spot where some might put a national motto.

"How's this?" she asks, holding out the paper for inspection.

"Cool. Why ones and tens?" He turns to Martin. "We need enough to pay the troops for five years service."

Martin blanches. "You weren't kidding when you said you don't care what it does to Amber's economy. In closed-world economics that's a recipe for hyperinflation. I was going to ask about copper and silver but I'm not sure I should bother now."

Random grins. "All will be revealed, my boy, all will be revealed."

"Ooh, I know," Folly says, "-- we could do, like, three-dozen different variations on the big coins, so that everyone will want to collect the whole set. That's, what, thirty-six million coins that immediately disappear from circulation?"

She's only half-joking.

Martin looks skeptical. "What about the precedent you're setting for payment for whichever's longer, time served or time passed in Amber? There's no way you'll ever be able to short the troops on payment for time served in a slow-time shadow. Thank the Unicorn Reid didn't bring any troops back with him, or we'd have to hock the castle."

Random waves airily. "Details, details."

"That's easy for you to say, Dad. You don't have to find the money." Martin changes the subject, obviously disgruntled, but not willing to marshal arguments that obviously won't be listened to. "A job this big will take me most of the time up to the coronation, and that's planning on me bringing the goods home by Trump. I'll be lucky if I have time for a bath before you put that crown on your head. Is there anything else I need to do on this trip, while I'm pulling miracles out of my ass?"

"I did tell you it's a costume party, didn't I?"

"No, you must have mentioned that to your other son."

Random shrugs. "It's a costume party. Not the coronation, of course. Although ... no. No. Vialle would never ..."

Folly nods vigorously; she's got a mischievous "do it anyway" gleam in her eye.

Martin has a distant look that suggests he's doing orbital mechanics, or a shadow-traversing variation thereon, in his head. Either that or he's processing a bunch of comments across his wisdom teeth to keep them from coming out of his mouth.

Random continues, "It's an eastern-themed thing. Dancing girls, exotic birds, stately pleasure domes, the whole nine yards. They've got a turban for me. I'm gonna be the emperor."

Martin finally says, "It doesn't matter. I'll come up with something. It only has to last through the evening." He looks at Folly. "We could go as birds. Maybe a nightingale for you."

"And you could be a purple martin," Folly suggests with a grin. "Don't even worry about it, sweetheart, OK? I'm all over it. How incognito do you want to be?"

There's a certain sympathy in the query.

"There's a limit to how incognito I can be. I'll be carrying," says Martin. "That makes me one of about ten people, and I don't think anybody will mistake me for Corwin." He glances at Random. "Unless Your Majesty is planning on changing family custom on who can go armed in front of the King, too. Which reminds me, what about the Altamareans? I know Bleys was bringing them, and they don't work cheap. But I hate to let Bleys pay them off; it'd be a bad precedent about private armies."

"I see no reason to relax that rule. And as to the Altamareans ... hmm ... they might cost as much as the rest of the army. But Bleys plans to be the hell out of Dodge with them before nightfall. We'll send an embassy later."

Martin starts to speak, thinks better of it, and nods once, abruptly. He turns his attention back to Folly.

"I have an idea for the costumes, so don't worry about that. You'll love it, and I know just where to go. But there are two things you can do for me while I'm gone. First is get someone to whip up a Trump sketch of you: Merle or Paige, maybe. It doesn't have to last; I just need something in case we get separated while we're getting Soren."

Folly nods. "Merlin sketched me this morning. It was just regular sketches, not a Trump sketch, but I think he's already thinking along those lines. Uh, so-to-speak."

He continues: "Second is, if I'm gonna be bouncing in and out of Amber like a rubber ball for the next little while, I'm gonna need someone to handle things for me. Correspondence, you know? Like a secretary. If you've got time, talk to Jerod and Vere--and Cambina--and get some names for me, maybe vett them. Ideally pick out a couple, and I can talk to them right after the coronation so I won't be any further behind than I already am. Someone trustworthy, and someone who'll put up with me. You'll know who I'd like. Oh, and it has to be someone who doesn't mind coming to Red Mill. Can you do that, or is that too much? I can get someone else to work on it if you're too busy."

"No, I can do that. It'll be fun," Folly says, and grins. "Like auditions, only without the music."

"Oh, yeah, since we're all pulling miracles out of our asses: someone who can read enough music that I can get my arrangements sorted. I left them kind of scattered when I blew out last time and I don't think Vent's flunkies filed them in any sort of order before shoving them in boxes." Martin rolls his eyes.

Random watches, fascinated, like a cat with a box full of ferrets.

"Shit, yeah, you should see the tidy little mess they made of all my lyrics," Folly says. "Fathom could've done a better job of it. Which, come to think of it, might not be a bad way to get them re-organized." She laughs at the image.

"I'll see what I can do," she continues. "And if I can't find you someone who can read music, you can always borrow my cat. Or, y'know, me." She grins, mock-ingenuous; but she's watching Random out of the corner of her eye.

"I don't think filing my arrangements is a short-term proposition, though, and I'm pretty sure the job of Prince's Secretary isn't suitable for a Royal Ward," Martin says, a little more seriously.

"Maybe that's another good reason to bring Soren back," Random observes.

Folly quirks an eyebrow as she considers this. It's not clear what her opinion on the matter is.

Martin seems to have suddenly remembered that he's being observed by the father whom he had apparently momentarily forgotten. "Dad, I hate to eat and run, but I have about nine zillion things to do before I blow out of here. If I have your leave?"

"Sure, sure," Random replies. "When are you leaving?"

"First thing in the morning," Martin says. Sounding a bit apologetic: "I promised dinner to Lucas after I kind of blew him off last night on other business. I also promised Lilly I'd get in a round of sparring with her; I'll be lucky if she's up for it late tonight."

"Trump me when you're on the road, then," says Random.

Martin turns his attention back to Folly, then, and slides his arms around her in a warm hug. His body language says about fifteen different things at once, but his mouth, screened from his father's view by Folly's hair, says only one word, barely above her audible threshold: "Always."

Acutely aware that her reactions are visible to his father, Folly merely tightens her arms around him in response.

He relinquishes Folly, a touch reluctantly, and smiles at her, a bit awkwardly.

Folly smiles back, also a little awkwardly, and wills herself not to blush. That only makes it worse, of course.

"Be safe," she says. "See you when you get back."

Random observes this and Folly thinks he's deciding which question to ask. He's on the verge of saying who-knows-what when Martin graces him with what may be the first ever royal father-son hug in the long history of Amber. Random stands there for a moment, not knowing what to do, then belatedly returns the gesture. One might consider it to be the guy-hug of which all others are but less-awkward shadows.

"Later," Martin says, flashing the pair of them a huge grin, and is gone.


It is now post-tea, so its time for the long-ago-planned Ossian/Lucas meeting. Where? In the cafe where Lucas is sitting? Ossian wouldn't mind the cafe as a meeting place...

Whatever the intro, this is Ossian's opening line:

"Hello Lucas. You missed the most wonderful meeting of the ladies this morning."

Lucas bids good day to the person at his table, sets down his cup, and focuses on Ossian. "Is that a hint of sarcasm I hear from you?"

Ossian takes a chair, sits down, looks around, furrows his brow, and takes off his blue jacket. He folds the jacket and puts it underneath tha table.

"Would I dare to do that in the presence of the master?" Ossian shakes his head "No. Actually I found the meeting most interesting. Your mother-in-law was nice enough to bring up the topic of liberation of women."

"Really? I never imagined her to be in favor of women being liberated."

"She isn't. But the discussion became lively enough. Somewhat surprisingly our new cousin Lilly is pro women liberation."

"How... in-fashion of her. I imagine she had harsh words for Lady Vesper?"

"She did. If our cousin handles that sword of hers with the same precision as her words, she is indeed a good choice for a bodyguard for the queen."

Lucas seems dubious, but says nothing.

"Very well. We are supposed to talk about the coronation. Vialle wants a masquerade. Why, she wants it, I don't know. Maybe it's Random's idea."

"Perhaps she wants to hide all her secret lovers?" Lucas suggests with a sly grin.

Ossian laughs. "You think she has more than one?"

Lucas shrugs. "The ocean holds many secrets."

Lucas gets a "Are you serious, or not?" look from Ossian.

Lucas gives no answering look.

"Anyways. We will also have some kind of knighting ceremony for the heros of the war, and something like that for people who served well on this side of the universe." Ossian shrugs. "It's going to be tedious business, I think about fifty people in each ceremony. We need to make it grand enough that people don't fall asleep."

"Are you wanting pomp and ceremony? Or simply a circus to keep the plebians at bay?"

"It should be done with some pomp, I think. But it should definitely not be boring. How to do it?" Ossian furrows his brow and then grins "Of course, putting a traitor among the to-be-knighted, and having Random cut his head off as the guy thinks he's going to be knighted would keep people awake. Sadly I think we are out of traitors?"

"No traitors immediately come to mind, I'm afraid. How solemn is this occasion to be? Could we have side entertainment if no one cares to watch 49 people they don't care about get knighted?"

"Oh, I don't worry so much for the to-be-knighted. But the ceremony will be public, and the spectators.... We can probably not have any official side entertainment, as it would take light from the ceremony. But maybe we could include something as part of the decoration. Dancers?"

"No, I meant the spectators as well. They'll likely at best only give a shit about one knight-to-be, if that. Dancers may be suitable, I imagine. It's a shame, though. Most don't care enough about it to want to sit through it, but they'd be bitter if we made light of it."

"Wouldn't you be bored, Lucas. Without the dancers, I mean?"

"I spent fifty years attending some of my mother's more formal soiree. A four-hour knighting ceremony is a pagan orgy in comparison. The only thing that really manages to bore me is family."

Ossians fingers are busy folding something out of a scrap of paper. He tilts his head slightly to the left. "Do I bore you, Lucas?"

"On occasion," he replies, quite matter-of-factly.

"That's bad." Ossian says "If there's something I don't want to be, it is to be boring. You should tell me when I am, because I really have to do something about it." Ossian does not seem insulted at all.

"Right. I'll keep that in mind. How do you wish to be informed of being boring? Will yelling 'boring' across the room suffice?"

Ossian laughs. "On many occasions that would be fine. There are some cases where falling asleep could be a good way of communications. I rely on your taste to decide on when to use which method."

"Of course."

"Can you get the dancers?" Ossian asks.

"I imagine I can manage something along those lines. And yourself? What task have you chosen for yourself in this Royally Appointed Task?"

"I haven't chosen yet. It's not like alla the details of the coronation are there yet. I'm going to talk with Vialle and find exactly what I should do. And maybe I have to do something about the Trumps too."

"Something about the Trumps needs to be done?"

"Yeah. Our king wants us to talk to each other. And we don't have Trumps enough. Do you have any ideas on how to solve that?" Ossian asks.

"You have the ability to make Trumps, don't you? You could find a shadow where time runs faster relative to Amber, and lock yourself in a room while you slave away at making them."

"That will probably be a part of the solution, yes." Ossian says "the problem is to find the Shadow. And of course, making Trumps is an art, and shall not become a mechanical process, lest they lose their power."

"Do you need to find your muse for each little bit of pasteboard?"

Ossian looks Lucas straight in the eyes: "I try to have my muse with me in everything I do, Lucas. Beauty is the only thing that matters in the end."

"Then of course, Trumps are special. Without inspiration, no Trumps."

Lucas meets Ossian's gaze with a smirk. "I imagine using the privy is a difficult task for you."

Ossian gives Lucas a disgusted look. Lucas seldom manages to upset Ossian this much. "Well, Lucas. _My_ muse tells me there is no need to mention the privy."

"To each their own, then. I, personally, prefer a good book for company. Regardless. I imagine I shall inquire into low-key background entertainment, while you work with your muse."

[GMs: From Lucas' trade missions, can he recommend any faster-flowing shadows?]

Ossian scowls. His to-be-origami is crushed into a ball of paper. "We'll see. I will probably go on a few trips to prepare for the coronation too, cousin."

"Of course. If I can think of any appropriate shadows, I'll let you know."

Ossian rises from his chair and picks up his jacket, saying: "Send me a note."

Then he turns around and walks away. An outside observer would definitely think Ossian is a bit angry.


Lilly graciously takes leave from Vialle and heads back to her room. As she walks her mind is busy making mental notes on her schedule for the next day or so. First she would need to insure the KCoR's met this evening as was planned. In the morning she would arrange a meeting with Paige to discuss the results. She also needed to be ready to meet Venesch. Prince Martin had also wished to spar with her. Some where in there would be her fitting as well. Thought would need to be given to her colors.

For quite some time now she had adopted the browns of her father as her own. She had never actually considered using any other tones. Until now that is. Even as Vialle spoke this morning she knew what the colors should be. Now it was just a matter of accepting them. The dutiful daughter in Lilly felt almost as if she was betraying her father in some way by not staying with his pallet. However the independent woman in her scoffed at the notion. Benedict would have more respect for her if she was not a simple drone. That simple thought sealed the decision. Her colors would be red and silver.

Coming to her rooms, Lilly opened the door and stepped inside. She allowed herself to let out a small sigh. It was good to be alone, good to be away from the pressures of this new existence for a bit. With fluid motion she undid the sword belt and laid it on her bed. Now as the perfect time to pen notes to fellow knights....

As soon as the page leaves with the notes in hand, Lilly's attention returns to her blades. This may be as quiet a moment as she is going to get over the next few day or weeks or possibly longer. Using a Katana would surely be different the her sword. If she was to truly do her job protecting the queen she needed to increase her proficiency with it. A genuine smile lit her face. She knew she honestly just wanted to play with her new toy and now seemed as good a time as any.

While she had not bothered to bring dresses with her, she had managed clothing to spar in. A girl had to have her priorities after all. Quickly changing, she fastened the sword belt around her waist and retrieved the Katana. For the moment she left it wrapped. She would have to see about acquiring a sheath for it.

Heading out of her room once more Lilly headed for the area where the castle guard did their sparring practice.

(OOC: Lilly looses all sense of time when working out. I suspect that this is especially true when she is trying to get a feel for a new piece of equipment. While she is a solitary creature most time, she will happily accept any challengers. Unless she is interrupted, she will stay there until hunger sets in.

Also her take on things this evening during the KCoR meeting could be affected by Venesch. Wether or not she likes/trusts/respects the man could have an impact. If no meeting is arranged between them prior to tonight's meeting though, that's fine.)

Lilly is able to find sparring partners, although none of any caliber that come close to challenging her, and practices until lunchtime. The guards are impressed enough with her that she is invited to join them for lunch in their mess.

It is there that she is approached by an older man, of what Shadow-Earthers would describe as Oriental descent, who politely waits for her to offer her his attention. When she does so, he says, "Dame Lilly? I am Venesch. The Queen sent a message that you wished to speak with me."

Lilly rises and bows her head slightly in his direction. A genuinely pleased look crosses Lilly's features. Though she had briefly caught a glimpse of Venesch last evening, she had not clearly viewed his features. This was the first time in her life she had met someone who in a certain sense looked like her. Unfortunately now was not the time to ask about his heritage. There was business to be done.

"Yes, Commander. That is correct. Is now a suitable time?"

"Hai. How may I assist you?"

"By allowing me to coordinate my protection of the Queen with the castle guard. I feel it would be most inefficient for us to be working at cross purposes. And I would also like to offer my services in preparing your men for the coronation." Blunt and to the point. The captain of the guard deserved no less in Lilly's eyes. It seemed pointless to dance around with words. Surely Venesch had other things to occupy his time this afternoon.

"Your offer is very gracious. Thank you. Let us retire to my office to discuss the matter of the Queen's protection."

Venesch's office is Spartan, with the necessary equipment and files to maintain it, and one spare chair for visitors. He has a rack of weapons on the wall, all of which look used, and Lilly suspects that they have all been used by Venesch. On his file cabinet, behind his desk, are a katana and a wakazashi on their ceremonial stands.

Venesch is as plain-spoken as Lilly, and their discussions on protecting the Queen are quickly fruitful. Lilly has the impression that Venesch likes Vialle and is pleased at her elevation. He outlines some of the protective measures he has been taking for her during the Regency, some things he and his men have learned about her blindness and its implications for protecting her, and how the current arrangements are in flux because of the changed circumstances leading up to the coronation. He is interested in any ideas she has, both for protecting the Queen and for the castle defense at large.

"A new recruit's eyes see much that a veteran commander is blind to," Venesch says.

His plain spoken way earn him definite kudos in Lilly's eyes. The fact that his weapons appear well worn is another plus. All in all Lilly finds herself liking Venesch. Because of that she will be more then happy to speak shop. She offers her ideas freely. If any of her cousins, chaos-siders included, saw her now they would think she was down right chatty.

Most of them would be shocked at how chatty Venesch can be with when talking shop. [Many of them have never heard much more than "Hai" out of him.]

He's also interested in cherry-picking some of the better veterans for positions in the guard, and is interested in Lilly's recommendations on that score.

"You will have to allow me to think of that. There are several who were under my command whom I believe could and would serve you well. However they are also the men I have been thinking of ordaining into knighthood. The Order of the Ruby is still finding it's focus, it purpose if you will. There is part of me that would like to see them as an elite guard working alongside your men for a common purpose. Of course I am sure my cousins will have ideas of their own." Lilly looks thoughtful for a moment. "In your experience, in what area is Amber's millitary most lacking? Perhaps the Order could be used to fill that void."

"The King will set duties for the Order, won't he? I have studied Amber's military history and it appears that she has never had a standing army, merely the Guard, which has been bigger and smaller in its history. The Rangers were militarized for the duration of the crisis, but the King may decide that their duties no longer require them to bear arms.

"For the most part, the King, King Random's father, dealt with military threats by importing foreign hirelings. This was a successful strategy, to the point that Prince Corwin and Prince Bleys used it against King Eric. However, it did fail at least once, when the Moonriders sacked the city. That was before my time.

"You would need to ask the Princes about the war with the Moonriders. The Prince your father ultimately defeated them at the pass into Arden, but to get a full picture of the battles, you would also need to speak to Prince Bleys and Prince Caine. If any of King Eric's reminiscences about the battle have survived, the Princess Cambina, his daughter, will have them."

Lilly looked thoughtful for a moment. "I am certain you have heard your share of rumors. There are those who believe the Moonriders might again be planning a move on the city. That is what I wish to be prepared for. Knowing what they have done in the past will indeed be useful but I doubt it will be enough."

Venesch nods decisively.

"The King has left the purpose of the Order rather vague. My fellow Knights and I are meeting this evening to discuss some of the finer points. I have several ideas of my own. If you wish I will keep you informed. That would certainly ease things if the Order and the Guard need to work together in the future."

"I would certainly wish to hear that business of the Order that will affect the defense of Amber. If the Moonriders come against Amber again, the Guard must be prepared," Venesch says.

Lilly nods. "I agree. Perhaps we can arrange a future meeting so that I may keep you informed? I would also very much like to solicit advice from you on the proper handling of a Katana. I have recently been gifted with mine and I am still learning it's nuances. I'd very much like to be comfortable with it prior to the coronation."

This is a topic on which Venesch can talk animatedly for a long time, with demonstrations. His katana and wakazashi are on a ceremonial stand, as mentioned elsewhere. It's a bit odd to Lilly's eyes, because although they are set for a right-hand draw, the curved part of the blades are upwards, not downwards, and there's a certain trick to drawing them that wouldn't be immediately obvious to someone who didn't know how it was done.

[For details of katana-talk, I refer you to Blake, who knows way more about proper katana usage than I do.]

Lilly pays very close attention to anything and everything he has to offer. She is a very good student.

Venesch is also happy to schedule a regular meeting between himself and Lilly to discuss castle defense and the Knights.

Wonderful. Lilly will keep him well informed. She will also use the meetings to learn as much as she can about the castle and Amber itself. This way if the city does come under attack she will have the information she needs to react properly.

[Is there anything else Lilly wants to discuss with Venesch?]

I think that just about covers it.... Thanks!


Ossian will search Martin out (or if Martin finds him first), to borrow the Ossian Trump that Martin has.

When (if?) Martin tries to give it back to Ossian he will decline. He still wants to borrow it over the night "for an experiment", though. "I gave it to you, so it is not mine anymore." Ossian says.

Martin will not be back in the castle until the afternoon after the dinner and briefing. He will try to return the trump, and will turn it over to Ossian on request.

[Ossian]
The afternoon is ok.

Ossian can tell that Martin is both a bit surprised by the generous gift and a bit nervous about the idea of trump experiments--although less nervous than he would be if it were his trump Ossian wanted.

[Ossian]
"I am only going to try a few things out, to see how we can solve the lack of enough Trumps."

Martin thinks about this, apparently decides he's OK with it, and nods. "Let me know how it turns out, then."

"I will." Ossian looks Martin very straight in the eyes.

Martin meets his gaze, holds it. Ossian has the impression that Martin is appraising him, and that he has some particular thought in mind. Not necessarily relating to the trumps, either.

Ossian pauses.

"You are thinking about something?" he asks.

Martin weighs something in the balance, decides. "You're fond of Folly," he says. It's an invitation for further inquiry, if Ossian wants to make one.

"Yes. How could I not be?" Ossian says, his eyes wide open "and you are fond of her too, I think." He smiles.

"I'm a little worried about her. Folly's the only person around here who doesn't have family, really. I know Bleys; he'll look after you and Brennan. And I've heard enough of the family stories to know that Deirdre's son will never want for attention from his mother's brothers. She, on the other hand, doesn't have anybody to look after her. Just her cousins."

"I'm not that sure about Bleys, but that's beside the point." Ossian says. "You want me to keep an eye on her?"

Martin nods.

"Do you have any specific worries about Folly?"

He hesitates, then says, "I think Vialle doesn't much care for her. When I lived in Rebma, I found that when my grandmother was happy for me, things went well. When I was in trouble, the servants often made my life harder. I don't know if you've heard about the room shuffle, but her things were moved and the new room she has isn't as nice as the one she had before. That sort of thing makes me worry."

And all of it's true, even if it's not all that's on Martin's mind. But a man whose father is King of Amber must have many things on his mind, and not all of them have to do with Folly.

"I heard about the room shuffle. I did not like it. In my mind..." Ossian lowers his voice "it seems like Vialle's personality has changed a lot since Random returned."

_Not at all_, Martin says, but the words sound like "Perhaps."

/Yeah/ Ossian thinks. /He's right. It's the background and illumniation, not Vialle, that changed. My words don't come out right./

"I will be watchful. You, and Folly will have my Trump as soon as I'm finished with tonights' experiment."

"I appreciate it," Martin says.

"I'm grateful that you let me know of your worries for Folly." Ossian smiles. He stretches out his hand. "We have much to do. But don't hesitate to call upon my help. We should stay in contact."

Martin takes Ossian's hand without hesitation. "I'm sure we will. I appreciate it, Ossian." And, regardless of how he may feel about other things, that last rings true.


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Last modified: 17 December 2002