Two Gentlemen of the Isles


"Julian! We'd begun to wonder whether you'd make it back for the coronation. I was worried when you didn't come back with your boy Adonis. Where have ye been all this time? I tried your Trump but you didn't answer."

"I have been a number of places, Gerard. Arcadia, for one. The Isles, for another." <pause> "I see that you have nothing to say to that. Gerard, when did you plan to tell me?"

"Tell ye which?"

"There's so much to tell that I'm not sure where to start. Corvis, for one; your son for another; your 'daughter' for a third; Ysabeau--need I continue the catalog, or have you found your tongue yet?"

"Oh. That. Yes, it's time we had a talk about Ysabeau, and past time, I daresay, if that little blonde lass who calls herself your daughter is who I think she is. I've kept my share of secrets and such, but you've not come full clean with me either, Julian. And ye needn't take out yer peevishness about yer boy on me, either. Ye know full well why I never spoke of Corvis or Vere or Solange while Dad was alive, the same reasons why this ranger Robin was never seen nor heard until now. And I've had no chance to tell ye since the war started." <pause> "Although I suppose I prefer yer snorting and stamping to the goggling I've had from our brothers and the crying from the girls. Horn and hoof, ye'd think I'd lost my head, not my legs."

"Gerard--"

"Ah, Julian, it's not the way I'd've had you find out. Any of it. But there it is. So tell me what took you back home and we'll sort out what to do about all of it."

"Let me start, then, at the beginning. I followed the path my son had taken into the near Arcadian realms, not into his mother's haunts as he planned, but to those of his mother's sister Calliste. I suspect he was weakened by some unnatural influence as he ran his course, because he was quite ill by the time I found him. Calliste had cornered him and so I bargained for his life. You know what price she demanded, of course. Had I not had so many other concerns, I might have fought her rather than surrender what she desired, but I thought it might be her enchantment. Now I think otherwise. But in any case, I agreed to her demand and provided the necessary service."

"Oh, Jules. Ye didn't. Not again."

"Unfortunate, but necessary. This time I will not make the mistake I made before--but we will discuss that later. As it happened, some time later, someone attempted to contact me via my Trump. I accepted the contact and found it was Robin, who was herself in the Isles, along with my son Jovian and his flight of riders. Apparently their paths crossed there."

"I can only imagine."

"I wish it were that simple. Vianis has led a rebellion against Corvis in your absence. Jovian and Robin rescued Avis and a young Knight of the Stag whom I gather is her paramour from the dungeons of Ladytown. In so doing, one of the two of them had to break a great magic of one of the priestesses, and thereby seem to have ripped a hole into a storm-shadow over the city. I suspect the island will drown, and told Corvis as much. Further, Vianis has opened Ysabeau's tomb. You will know as well as I what that means."

"Aye. I thought my presence there would have put all that down after a decade or three, but the influence lingers. Perhaps it's better if the temple does drown. Ye said ye spoke to Corvis? How does she fare?"

"As well as can be expected under the circumstances. She and her loyal supporters have retreated to Fair Isle, which they still hold. Corvis misses you dreadfully, and she asked for word of you. I did not tell her anything that I had not seen with my own eyes. She and Avis also asked for word of Vere, which Robin was able to give."

"Well enough. Ye have duties in Arden such that ye cannot go back to the Isles. I'd send Vere, but he's had no chance to take the Pattern, and he has oaths that lie elsewhere as well. I'll have to put the choice to him meself. And speaking of sons and choices, have ye heard how your lad Adonis fared?"

"Indeed. We stopped at Ruby Falls on our way here and Pistil advised me of the retreat from Heather Vale. I plan to ask Random to close Arden."

"Close Arden? Julian, are you sure?"

"Arden will soon become too dangerous for anyone other than the Rangers. Worse, my son has dallied with a number of the Rangers of late. And, as you may have heard, with one of his cousins. There will be war in Arcadia between Artemis and Calliste unless I can prevent it, and if one of her grandchildren can be invested with power to defend her, Artemis will not hesitate to steal the child. There is too much at stake here. And perhaps it is time for me to redress my old errors."

"Perhaps you're right. But still--Jules, you can't shut out a problem by agreeing not to talk about it. It failed with the Isles and it's like to fail again here."

"I do not propose to 'not talk about it'. Closing Arden buys us time to take other steps. But enough of that. Tell me how you went back to the Isles, and how you came to foster Ysabeau's daughter."

"About the same as you on that last question, I imagine. Ysabeau was ill unto death and about to give birth to her child. She fostered the child to me and I gave her to my friend Worth, who had wanted a child but was afraid his wife was barren. I let Worth think she was mine lest someone come looking for her, and I've treated her as mine, and always will. As it seems ye have done with her sister.

"This was all out of the Isles, of course, by the terms of our agreement. But when Ysabeau knew that the childbirth fever was like to take her, she begged me and threatened me, as was her wont, to take her body back to the Isles. Perhaps it was the fear of her dying curse, or perhaps something other--it hardly matters now--but I did as she asked. Corvis was high in the ranks of the priestesses then, and married to Avis' sire. She became High Priestess and her fool husband got himself killed--on his own, I might add, while I was safe in Amber--and, well, ye know."

"Yes, of course. That was the cruelest part of our bargain."

"'Twas what was needed. And with Ysabeau gone, it seemed that Corvis and I could undo some of the harm that had been done. So I stayed there for a time, and Corvis and I were wedded, and she gave me Vere. And sometimes she told me of the efforts they'd made to stamp out the old worship. I never told Solange about Vere, and I never told Vere about Solange. I suppose Corvis knew something, but it was never a thing we discussed. I never meant to take her back there."

"Nor did I mean to take Robin there. But she has gone there now, and so may Solange."

"I suppose I must tell Solange all the truth now and let her take her chances. But Solange is a good girl. There's not a drop of malice in her."

"Robin is her mother's daughter."

"Aye. That's what I'm afraid of."


After the meal with Jovian, Robin and half a dozen other cousins, Ossian and Brennan finds some comfy chairs...

Brennan sprawls aggressively when he sits, usually with at least a leg thrown over an arm of the chair.

"The general plan is to get Trumps or sketches of everyone as fast as possible, and then store them in a room in the main gate Tower. That way everyone of us will have access to the Trumps." Ossian says when they sit down.

Brennan considers this for a moment, then asks three questions, ticking them off on his fingers:

"How big are these sketches going to be? Are you planning on putting Trumps of locations in the same place? Are you planning on making Trumps of that location itself?"

"The sketches won't be large. About this size, I guess." Ossian shows with his hands.

"Hmm. One each? Both generations? Roughly how many are we talking about?"

"One of each family memeber, hopefully both generations. Should be around twenty-five", Ossian says with a shrug.

"As for location Trumps, I think I won't place any there. We don't have many of them anyway. Random wanted Trumps of the Trump room, but we shall see. I don't think I will do more than one copy of that Trump. For everyone else a copy of the ordinary Gate Trump will have to do."

"I wouldn't suggest making any Trumps of that room, unless Random demanded it, and then as few as possible. Likewise, I would argue strongly against putting any location Trumps there. And frankly, the bigger and bulkier you can make the Trumps in that room, the better. This may not be possible in the time you've got, but putting them on iron is the simplest theft deterrent-- that size, an inch thick, the collection would weigh," he thinks for a moment, "almost four hundred pounds. And even one would be awkward to carry off."

Brennan doesn't sound hopeful on that point.

"Failing that, I'd at least suggest making them big enough that they're not easily missed, if someone carries them out."

Of course, none of that helps if two people collaborate to steal them, and Brennan knows that.

Ossian nods. "I might be able to glue the sketches on to something heavy and big. It's an excellent suggestion. Hm. We might want to move the Trumps quickly at some point, though. Making the actual drawings larger is sadly not an option."

Brennan shrugs. "There's a natural tension between the ideas of 'easily moveable' and 'secure.' Either one is easy enough, but both at the same time starts costing. Also, I don't think the size of the image itself is what's important, only the size of the object that has to be carried off in order to get a working Trump.

"So you can make them all five foot by five foot, but if someone can carve the image part out with a knife, all you did was charge the Crown for nice paper. Likewise glueing them to bricks, unless you glue them on in such a way that they're destroyed when they come off."

"I don't think we can make them totally safe from being stolen. Glue is my best guess right now, as it will make them more difficult to steal, and stealing them will take more time, at least."

Brennan shrugs. "Let me know when you want to make it more bullet proof than glue."

[Ossian]
"Of course, anyone of the Trump artists can paint a sketch of the Trump chamber, given enough time."

"Of course. But then, Trump artists would be the least likely to steal Trumps anyway, wouldn't they?"

"I wouldn't count on it. Making Trumps takes time, and I also suspect that a Trump of me made by my own hand could be more useful than one made by anyone else. The Trump artists are the most likely to know of naughty tricks with the Trumps."

Brennan is trying to keep the conversation light, civil, and business-like. None of his initial responses meet these criteria, so he lets it pass.

Heh. Ossian is quite satisfied with this.

[Brennan]
This will be a long, drawn out series of fencing matches, I expect.


Not long after the group meeting Jovian has broken up, Vere receives a summons from his father, asking him to attend on Gerard in his office.

Vere goes directly to Gerard's office, pauses outside and listens to see if anyone is speaking inside. Assuming he doesn't hear anything worth overhearing, he knocks once on Gerard's door, then opens it and enters.

Gerard is alone. He looks rather tired, and his handkerchief is missing.

"I have some news for you, some of which you may have heard already. Julian and his children returned to Amber by way of the Isles. They have spoken with your mother and sister, who are well. That's the good news.

"The Spider, curse her black heart, has taken up the old ways and brought them back into the Isles, a thing I hoped I'd nae see in your mother's lifetime. And it sounds as if someone's damaged the whole bloody shadow so that Ladystown has flooded."

Gerard sighs. "I'm not sure what's to be done about that. I'm not brother Julian, to know how to start to repair that kind of damage. It may take Random and the bloody Jewel to fix it, for all I know. And I can't help yer mother fight the Spider from this chair, either. If one of us is to go and lead the brotherhood, it must be you, Vere."

Vere nods slightly, "I expected you to say this, Father," he responds. "Sir Jovian told me some of this, enough to guess at more." He pauses and regards his father steadily. "However." The word comes out as a statement.

He holds up four fingers, and ticks off points.

"Primus: I have not walked the Pattern, and even if we do manage to find it and I can successfully walk it I will not have the experience to use that power successfully. And we will need that power to defeat Chancellor Vianis. If she has truly turned to the old ways, she may well have made common cause with the Witch Queens.

"Secundus: I am the mere son of the Lady, you are her Consort. It is your place to lead the Brotherhood, not mine. I do not have the skill, and while I will gladly give my life leading them in Mother's cause, it would be a shame for me to lead them to defeat.

"Tertius: If you do not go, there will be whispers and rumors of why you are not there. Such may well act to weaken the morale of the populace and aid the Chancellor's plans. You know how excellent she is at manipulating the beliefs of the common folk. It is a talent she used well in The Lady's service, will she use it any less well against her?

"Terminus: My oath. While it could be argued that turning from your health to the defense of the Isles does not truly violate the oath, the opposite can also be argued. Oaths are tricky things. The Powers of the Isles and the Goddess herself may well turn against me as oathbreaker. This would not aid Mother's cause."

Vere lowers his last finger and tilts his head slightly to one side as he awaits Gerard's response.

"I hold you not as oathbreaker when you go in my place, son, and no man nor power in its right mind will do so, either. If I return to the Isles and your mother does not give me over to the Goddess, she may be forsworn in her own oaths. There's nowt in your oath that releases you if I die, you know. As for the Spider, better her whispers than a proven truth. If we had some hope of me being healed anon and being able to lead the Brotherhood, 'twould be different. But if hopes were horses, beggars would ride, and they dinna."

Gerard pauses, then. "As for the other thing, ye must not speak of it to yer cousins yet, but there is a way. Ye will walk the Pattern after the coronation."

Vere nods, "It was clear that His Majesty expects something to occur at, or just after, the coronation," he says. "I am not the only one to have observed that." He pauses and observes his father silently for a few moments. "I will do as duty bids," he says finally.

"Vere, I'm sorry. I know ye hae been happy here, what with the library and nobody nagging at ye to put on yer plaidie and fight like a man instead of burying yer nose in a dusty tome. But it's not so simple as all that. There's a lot of things ye don't know yet.

"I suppose ye hae wondered these last few years how I came to the Isles when I've had all the worlds to choose from. I hae known it all my life, for it was my own mother's homeland, as much as Corvis' and yours. My mother is buried at Fair Isle, with the others of the Goddess' line. I visited as a lad and a young man, and I fell in love with yer mother, and when I could come back, I did. It tears me up, what's happening with the Spider, and it tears me up worse that I can't go back and fix it. If I could, I would, and I'd spare you."

Gerard's face falls. "But I canna do it. And I daren't send Solange alone, even if she'll go now."

Vere remains silent for a few moments before observing, "You have always known exactly what to say to lead me to conclude that you are correct and I am wrong, Father. Before meeting other members of our family it had never occurred to me to wonder if that is deliberate." He nods his head slightly, "Put that way, I can of course not obey. I will return to the Isles."

Gerard looks slightly heartened by this, which is to say he only looks moderately depressed now. "But that's not all. I haven't even told you about my sister." And his face falls again.

"Well, then," Vere says, "I suppose you should do so now. Before I hear about it from other relatives."

"Perhaps they will speak of her again. Dad's order to never speak of her again is now null and void on his death, I imagine," Gerard says.

"I know you've learned the basics of Dad's marriages, so I know you know about my mother died young and early. Julian and I have a theory about that, now, but it took us some hard years to learn it.

"Everybody thought when Dad put Mother aside that he, well, put her aside. It turned out that wasn't so, and she bore him a third child. It was in the bearing that she died, and the child was Ysabeau.

"Dad had no experience of little girls, despite the number he'd sired before. I think Caine and Eric had the raising of Deirdre, and Fiona may well have raised herself. Flora was raised by nannies and governesses, which, bless her heart, explains more about her than she'd like you to know. Dad thought he could do the same by Ysabeau.

"She wasn't like Flora, though. Not our Ysabeau. She wanted to run in the wild woods of Arden. This was when Corwin still had the Rangers, and he had no more truck with girls among their number than Dad did. And Dad wanted his princesses to be ornaments at court, not come trekking in from Arden with leaves in their hair and mud on their faces. So Ysabeau fought with him.

"It happened that in time, Ysabeau walked the Pattern, and she vanished from within its center and was not seen again. She'd quarreled with Dad again right before, and he said she was in exile, and not welcome to return. Julian misliked this, but he was training under Corwin, and I was at sea with Caine. It was years before we were able to break free long enough and at the same time to give the matter its due.

"We thought nothing of that. Ysabeau was a warmaid, like your cousin Brita. Deirdre had the teaching of her, and she learned from Benedict. And how much trouble can ye get into when yer immortal? Nothing in a few years that ye can't break free of with Pattern."

Gerard sighs. "We were wrong. Jules and I went back to the Isles because we thought her trail might lie that way. And it did. She misliked the Isles, our lass did. She'd gone to the mainland."

"Ah," says Vere. Nothing more.

Gerard stops and looks Vere in the eye. "We're gods to the folk of the Isles, with the things we can do. I wish I could excuse what Ysabeau did as the misdeeds of a thoughtless girl, but I canna do it. Whatever it is that grew straight and strong in Julian grew a little bent in her. They made Ysabeau a goddess, the Witch-Queens did, and she liked it.

"We made war on her, Jules and I. We fought her people, we drove them out of the Isles, and led raids on the shores of the mainland. When she sent storms against us, we broke them. What she made, we bettered. She had more men, but we had braver and better, and there were two of us.

"We fought her to a standstill in the end, and there came a day when we three faced each other on the field of battle. And we three called a truce, lest we be kinslayers, and parleyed on the field. In the end, we came to an agreement: all three of us would leave the Isles, and she would not return there unless Julian or I did. And though I loved your mother, I knew she would live longer and better without me than she would with the war. So we swore on the horn of the Unicorn, and we left." Gerard stops then for a moment, and looks down.

"Dad found out somehow, and he was furious. Now she was not only not welcome in Amber, she was not even to be spoken of. So Julian and I put her aside from our minds.

"Ysabeau was a lusty lass, and many years later she Trumped me to tell me she was near the time of childbed. She asked me in the name of the mother we shared and the oaths we'd sworn to come to her and take her child. She would not rise from childbed, she said; the malady that had taken our mother was soon to take her. I came, then, and waited while she bore her child. When it was done, and she was dying, she charged me to bear her body home and to foster her child as my own. I did both these things; it's how I came to meet your mother again.

"The babe I gave to a captain among my men who feared his wife was barren. They thought she was my daughter, and I never gainsaid anyone who thought so until today, when I had to tell yer sister all this. And it turns out, Ysabeau did the same to Julian years before. I thought Robin looked like her when first we met." Gerard shakes his head.

"Julian says there's something broken in the Isles. I'm not Random, to draw lightning from the Jewel, and I'm not Fiona, to sorcer fixed anything that's wrong. The only way I know to mend a place's hurts is to go there myself and heal it over time."

Gerard smacks his desk, hard, and a crack appears in the wood. "Dammit! I should go myself and make the time I need. There's no right way about this thing: Jules can't leave Arden now, not with the damned Arcadians gone wild again, and his son has to take his people home. And Solange, she needs me too and she needs me here now. There's not a soul but you who can be spared.

"I know you've been happy here, son. I'm so sorry."

Vere shakes his head in negation. "Needs must, Father. I understand more now, and I see my duty." He considers the far wall for a few moments before continuing, "I do not know how much aid I will be to Mother, but I will do whatever I can. If I understand correctly, once I walk the Pattern I can immediately bid it take me wherever I choose. Is it your thought that I should bid it take me to Mother's side?"

"Ye canna do such a thing. Bid it take you to a place, yes. To a person, no. If you bethought some safe place in the Isles, away from the city, perhaps."

Gerard pauses, and says, "But have ye considered raising men to take to yer mother? There will be sailors at loose ends in the city--those who have fought, and those who have seen no employment these last five years for want of ships to sail. Amber's fleet will be smaller than she was before the war and even with many dead there will be fine men with no berth. Some of them might sign on for gold. That, at least, we can get."

"Raise an army? No, I had not considered that, but it is the logical thing to do. I should have thought of it immediately." Vere pauses for a moment. "A pity His Majesty is unlikely to allow me to take any of his ships, as well...."

"Ye can buy one in shadow, after ye hae taken the Pattern. Or perhaps ye can buy one from those pirates in the harbor. That'll set tongues to wagging at the Naval, but I can deal with that meself," says Gerard firmly.

"But if ye take men and ships, the Isles will be different when ye are done. Everything we do to a place has a price of some sort. I think it's worth the risk to take them, but I'm not the man who's going."

A slight smile touches Vere's lips. "A slight modification to the social structure of the Isles might not be all together a bad thing," he says mildly. He cocks his head to one side and considers for a moment. "The matter of ships depends upon how many men I can raise. Most of the returning forces will be eager to settle down to spend their pay, of course. But some might have gotten a taste for adventure, especially those who have returned to find unacceptable changes at home. And many of those who were too young to accompany the army when it left years ago are now eager to prove themselves. In any case, I would be more comfortable arriving at the Isles by ship than by land, it seems more natural."

Gerard is willing to discuss possible strategies for getting men, ships, and money to the Isles for some time.

Vere will make mental notes of all of his father's suggestions.

Once they have exhausted the topic of raising a force and gathering funds Vere will take his leave of his father for the night.


Two days before the coronation Jerod will get a note:

Jerod,
It seems my talents are failing a bit with your Trump portrait; obviously you are more difficult to capture than I realized. I guess I will need you to stand model for almost a whole day to get the details right. Shall we appoint a new time after the coronation.

Sorry about the delay
Ossian

Jerod's return reply...

Cousin...

Get ahold of me after the coronation when we have received our assignments from Random. An entire day may not be feasible.

Jerod.


Ah, and I sincerely hope you guys won't think too poorly of me for suggesting we do this (or at least start it) in scan-mode, but I was thinking that whenever the "whatever shall I wear" portion of the program, Aisling would've taken Jovian and Robin and Folly off in tow to the seamstresses, and shown them the options the Knights had thought of for Jovian and Kourin. Robin, she'd say apologetically, they hadn't considered.

Robin would be fine with the oversight. Really fine. She states that she thinks it's wonderful that Aisling has considered this and thought of the difficulties that recent arrivals in Amber might face -- really very sweet of it. And she must admit that Aisling's designs are absolutely fabulous. But Robin isn't really prepared at ths time... Thank you again, but she'll just be going now. :)

((OOC - Flee! Flee as though your life depended on it!! Seamtresses!!! Aieeee!))

Folly suggests with a grin that perhaps Robin should go as herself -- which would almost certainly eliminate the worry that someone else might choose the same costume.... For all that it's made in a joking tone, it's a serious suggestion.

Folly also mentions that, although it might be too whimsical for Robin or Kourin (and, she adds with a wink, is almost certainly too small for Jovian), she does have an extra costume available if any of them would like to borrow it: a gauzy sundress the colors of a sunrise sky with silk-and-wire fairy wings on the back.

Aisling looks interested.

Robin looks over at Folly, a quick appraising glance, followed by a somewhat weak smile. After clearing her throat, the Ranger mentions that thoughts along those lines had occurred to herself as well. But, while it's a sweet suggestion, it's also kinda... lame, she finishes awkwardly.

Robin will explain to the ladies that she's very flattered that they've taken her situation under their wing. But really, she'll come up with something. Really. Bye!

Aisling bows, not holding her by look or expectation.

[Madeline/Aisling]
I so want some of the other Knights to toss in suggestions, too, here... I'd think we'd want a couple more options for them, and I'm having a devil of a time already.

In fact, if one of the other Knights wants to lead this expedition, I'm down with that. I just think Aisling got the costume project since the others were doing other stuff when this was started.

Oh, and I think she brought this up at the (mostly glossed) meeting on Day 5, so you might want to consider if you'd had suggestions for Daeon, too.

So anyway, I'll just set out Aisling's most interesting idea. Aisling caused to be made a cloak of a light velvet in a rich brown, with gold and red-gold and copper embroidered feathers around the edges and at various places on the back, and a hood that can fall down over the upper face, pointed and with eye holes, similarly embroidered to look like the beak and face of a hawk. There's a matching tunic with very deep dagged sleeves, winglike, similarly embroidered, and hose and a belt and such. The smaller cloak is of a pair with the other, of clear blue with silver and gold embroidery, coming with a matching dress covered with all the stuff modern Amber gowns are covered with, in addition to embroidered feathers.

[Mark/Jovian]
Simple, elegant...well-conceived. I only wish you'd thought to do it in the starker colors and markings of a falcon rather than earthier hawk colors. (note the e-mail address ;-D)

[Madeline/Aisling]
[I really don't know medieval costume terminology. I'm thinking belted tailored pullover-jacket thing that comes down to mid-upper-leg. Those are "in" in Amber now, right? Because they're really pretty! Um. "Mid-upper leg"? There's got to be a better word for that. Ok, I don't know all sorts of terminology.]

[Mark/Jovian]
Tunic is as good a term as any for that. And the word you're looking for is thigh... :-P

((OOC - Dung! Do these guys think they're going to get Lilly into one of those contraptions? Something that so sweetly tangles the hands, hinders the draw, traps the feet and blocks line of sight?! Yikes!! When Benedict and Dad wear something like that to a family gathering, Robin will. ;) ))

[Jovian]
You gonna tell Big Brother about your objections?

Not in front of the giiirrrllss! Eeewww! ;) Besides, that'd be rude. Which is what Robin's desperately trying to avoid here.

[Jovian]
I think Robin would look pretty darn nifty in a Catwoman suit, and that would sidestep almost all of her problems with costuming. Especially if she can rig nasty pointy bits for claws, eliminating the need to wear a sidearm. ;-)

The claws would be fun. But range - you need that range when you're dealing with family. Course that 18 foot bull-whip... ;)

Jovian, while he's charmed by the hawk suit, will be interested in hearing Folly's ideas as well, as he's still getting a grip on the range of what's appropriate.

Ok. Barring other Knightly ideas, Aisling would offer some simpler, more human sort of costume, of which absolutely no ideas worth mentioning have appeared in my mind for days (cheesecloth. Nothing but cheesecloth.); and a few spiffy masks (like Mardi Gras types) which can be appropriately accessorized with whatever clothes the mask-ee would like. Keep in mind she offers all of these options as from the Knights as a whole.

Jovian considers each in turn, asking questions here and there, including the odd "what if we did this" - it becomes clear that he's not at all afraid of flashy, and that he is interested in knowing how fanciful as well as how simple ought to be considered. After each, though, he looks back at the hawk's attire and smiles.

Then she leaves Jovian in Folly's capable hands and bows out. This with the same kind of "you will like her" vibe he gave Robin about her. :)

"Will you be around in a bit, Aisling? Make sure I catch you later...." The entreaty is back in his eyes, and he nods slightly in what a good sense of direction would say was a gesture toward Arden.

"I will do so," Aisling promises, masking her faint bafflement at his nod, along with a bunch of other emotions.

After Aisling exits, Jovian talks with Folly for a minute or three.

Folly, Jovian quickly learns, is all about imagery and symbolism. She offers, "You ride great fire-breathing beasts through the sky, so perhaps something that evokes fire and sky would appeal to you? Like maybe one of you could be a flame, and the other a phoenix -- or a moth...." She grins as she considers the implications, wondering which would appeal more to Jovian, and waits for his feedback.

"Phoenix," he considers aloud. "Crested, long-tailed bird, brightly colored, prone to bursting into flame? So it could be built very much like the hawk costume, but in brighter colors, different shape for the cloak and hood...it's a pity I don't know how to do mage-light to simulate flame. Or would it be tacky to use magic in a costume?"

Then he stops abruptly, his head snapping up and around. The spot embodying the middle distance, Folly might well reflect, is exactly where she'd hang a clock on the wall, if clocks that worked in Amber came small enough.

"Folly, I hope you'll forgive me. I'm going to have to cut this short. There's a thing I remembered that I must make time for, and if I'm lucky there will be just enough."

Folly is completely understanding.

"I love the phoenix idea - the hawk is terrific too, but I always wear brown." A weak, fleeting smile to Kourin at this. And indeed, the well-worn flight leathers that he hasn't yet managed to change out of are a rich honey-brown. "Let's run with that one," he tells the seamstress attending them.

"Thank you for your help. It's very kind of you to help keep me from looking like an idiot through all this." And he turns to leave, his focus already intently elsewhere.

//Canareth. In a few minutes we'll need to go and see the others. Please come as close to the castle gate as you can safely without scaring the fewmets out of anyone, and wait for me. Ask Hoshith to accompany you. Tell her it's about Antrith's rider, and to tell Kourin as well.//

And with thanks and apologies, he is off.


When Robin returns to her [new] chamber after the business with everybody meeting Jovian is settled, she finds a note from her father asking that she attend on him in the library.

Well, thank the Green! The Ranger snorts. And here she was counting on him and the Regent to pull her, Jove and Vere out of that hairy-eyeball off. Verde! Her father's timing! A grim chuckle ripples through Robin, seems hereditary though. Ooops! Okay, maybe it's a trained response. :)

Robin takes the note with her as she sets off into... Dammit! She stops a page and gets directions.

"Sir?" The Ranger pokes her head through the library door cautiously.

"Robin. Come in." Julian is alone. His right hand is bandaged. Robin doesn't recall it having been bandaged, or even wounded, before their arrival in Amber.

Stepping inside, Robin closes the door softly behind herself.

"I have spoken with Gerard, and with Random. I have decided to close Arden, and Random has agreed to my request," he says, without preamble.

The spark of happiness that shoots through the girl's eyes cannot be hid, even by the quietness she's holding herself under. Then a horrible thought occurs to her, and the Ranger's eyes dart to the bandage on her father's hand. One eyebrow flickers in a concerned question.

"Random's crystal is quite sharp when it shatters," Julian answers her. "My brother advises me that I am about to become a grandfather. Again. Your brother Daeon has dallied with your cousin Paige. In the due turning of the seasons, she will bear twins."

Julian's gaze on Robin is mildly expectant. It's the sort of look Robin associates with expecting her to know the name of the hawk flying overhead by its shadow in the trees, or the name of the hound by the shape of its pawprint in the muddy stream.

"Hunh." Robin breathes out as she considers. "Artemis and Calliste. Perhaps the others. They'll be looking for pawns. And Paige will be weak or dying from the labor.

"Clarissa's line is stronger. Paige might survive the childbirth. But she'll be in no condition to fight them off..."

"The childbirth weakness seems to run only in my mother's line. But, yes, Paige will be in no condition to fight off any goddesses that should decide to steal her newborns. If Fiona is her midwife, I almost pity the goddess who tries to steal the infants. In general, in fact, I feel that the wrath of the redheads will fall on someone who tries to break the bond of the Clarissi."

Julian continues: "If, as I suspect she will, she bears a son and a daughter, it will not matter. In due time, they will be called to Arcadia. They will war with Calliste's children, and the winners will slay Daeon and take his place and Dione's. It is the way of Arcadia.

"In the long term, I propose to interfere by stealing back my children by Calliste. I let Artemis raise Daeon and Dione by the terms of our bargain, but I only promised Calliste that I would sire her offspring. I said nothing of their raising," Julian adds with a smile.

"As for Paige, her children must be guarded even before they are born. I was thinking of Couth. His wounds will not keep him from fighting, but they would limit his ability to travel. And if Paige requires a male companion, I suspect Couth is more than adequate to the task."

Julian looks at Robin to gauge her response to the plan.

"Hmmmm." Wheels are turning behind the Ranger's eyes. "When you assign Couth," a quick quirk at the corner of her mouth indicates Robin's appreciation of the choice, "how much of the reasoning are you planning on telling Paige? Hinting to Fiona would guarantee that she mid-wives, but... do we want her interference? Annnnd," a feral grin sneaks past Robin's mask for a moment, "when and where does the baby snatch go down?"

"Fiona's interference would be welcome, yes." Julian actually quirks one corner of his mouth upwards. "I have not yet decided how much to tell Paige, however. I am not certain how sound her judgement is. The 'baby snatch' will have to wait at least until the babes are born, of course, but as soon as possible thereafter. The longer we wait, the older the children will be and the less amenable to learning our ways."

A snort from Robin shows that she feels that 'sound' and 'judgment' shouldn't be used in the same sentence as 'Paige.' But the Ranger nods her agreement to her father's assessment of the timing for baby snatching.

Julian frowns then. "We will also have to kidnap Daeon again. I must find a Pattern and put him on it. He is done with his godhead, although he does not know it yet. If he continues the way he has done, he will certainly perish."

"Do you think the Pattern at Tir-na N'ogth would be too... " Robin searches for the word but finds nothing better than, "esoteric for him? Course I'm not really sure if it's there or not. The Pattern, I mean. Not Tir-na N'ogth."

"He has rejected the opportunity to walk the Pattern when I have presented him with it," says Julian. "I would try the Tir if I thought he would walk it, but I am not sanguine that it will attract him either. But he must transcend his godhead, or die. For what else happens to the Year God when the year is done?"

"Weeellll, 'transcendence' is a good word. But 'rebirth' might work better if I understand what you're saying about Daeon." Robin rubs her chin as she thinks about it, "I wouldn't say anything about 'ending' or 'leaving' his godhead. If Daeon's fully integrated that into his concept of his own identity, you might have trouble.

"Instead, you could try emphasizing the strengthening-refining-focusing angles of Pattern initiation. You know, the 'it will make you more you' stuff. Or maaaybbbee," the Ranger gets a gleam in her eye, "the 'it will break you down and then you will rise from the fires' angle. That could play well to the rebirth, cyclical nature crowd." She looks to her father with a raised eyebrow.

Julian looks Robin in the eye.

"I am not interested in temporizing or obfuscating what will happen to your brother. You know as well as I what the consequences of a failed Patternwalk are. If Daeon will not walk the Pattern when told honestly what will happen ..." Julian trails off, not wanting to complete the thought.

Robin tiptoes to plant a sympathetic kiss on Julian's forehead. "Daaaddd," she murmurs gently, "I don't want Daeon to die - on the Pattern or in the wickerman - anymore than you do."

Then she sighs, steps back and meet Julian's eye. "Okay. I'm being flippant. I'll stop now. But I'm not temporizing or obfuscating, sir. You already said that he wouldn't walk the Pattern when you presented it to him before. What did you honestly tell him would happen? What happened to you? What happened to Gerard? What happened to me? Somehow, I'm not sure those were the same things, sir.

"And if Daeon attempts to walk the Pattern as anyone other than himself, he'll surely fail. Daeon's got to need to live through it for his own reasons. No one else can give him the strength one needs to survive the Pattern, sir. It comes from inside or not at all.

"Therefore, if you want Daeon - not your son, but Daeon on the Pattern, you have to find what brings to him the need to succeed, the will to fight, and the sheer bravado it takes to spit in the eye of yourself, your fate, the universe and everything.

"That doesn't mean lying. That doesn't mean not telling the whole truth. It means seeing the world through Daeon's eyes. If only for just long enough to know what he loves. And then letting him know that you value that."

Robin stops for a moment, listens to the echoes of her voice in the room. And wrinkles her nose. Ick! What a speech!

"Robin," says Julian gently, "I know you mean well, but you do not comprehend the matter. Walking the Pattern is not a thing gods do. It is a thing Princes of Amber do. What Daeon loves is being what he is. If he does not stop being what he is, its consequence is death. If he cannot find the desire to live as a Prince of Amber--which is what a being who can walk the Pattern is--he will not survive an attempt to walk the Pattern.

"What he loves is at odds with that. That is the part of the problem I cannot cure and will not lie to him about."

"Okay." Robin says with quiet acceptance. She has absolute faith in her father -- if he says she isn't getting it, then she isn't getting it. "What can I do to help?"

Those green eyes turn to him with warm support glowing in them.

Julian smiles. He looks a little less tired.

"This evening, nothing. At some point you will need to speak to Vere, and perhaps later to Solange. I do not know her at all and cannot predict how she will react to learning what has long been hidden about the Isles. I know the next few days will be difficult, but after they have sorted themselves out, we will return to Arden. From there, we can do what is needful."

The Ranger's blonde head bobs in agreement. "I...was planning on talking to Vere as soon as I reasonably could, sir. He... well, he should know." The girl blushes ruefully, a kiss of rose underneath her golden tan. Then quickly changes the subject.

Julian nods. [Not once, and not abruptly.]

"Solange?" Robin shrugs and her brows furrow. Solange wasn't someone she really spent a lot of time with. Gerard's daughter liked girl things. And nobles. Neither of which Robin had much time for. And then there was that business with the badges. Yep, Solange was going to be tricky. But despite that, maybe she shouldn't be alone. Even if her company in this was someone as rough and volatile as Robin. "I'll see if she wants to talk."

"She may not, and if she does not, we must let her be for the next while. But she will come to us in the end, and we must be ready when she does," Julian says.

"I won't push it." Robin says. Something in her voice shares how she feels about people imposing themselves. "And yeah, when she's ready, I can be too." She smiles gently to Julian.

The Ranger nods thoughtfully. Yep, the next few days would indeed be difficult. But her father was only asking her for a few days. Days in Hell, sure, but only a few days. The Ranger takes a deep breath and smiles at her father. She has to do it, therefore she can.

"Hey. Wanna to play Stones? I'm dying for a game." The girl beams a chipper smile at her father.

"I would enjoy that very much," Julian says, and calls for a servant to bring the stones.


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Last modified: 13 March 2003