Library Lull


After Brennan returns from Shadow, there's the inevitable flurry of meetings and conversation, formal and informal, with cousins and uncles, Knights and Kings. He doesn't show any signs of coming back just for the whirlwind tour and then dashing off again for parts unknown.

On the contrary, it looks like he intends to spend some time in Amber, shoring the place up while everyone else seems to have other errands. Which is only reasonable, since he'd spent his time away. Although he's of course at Random's disposal, Brennan falls into the pattern of his own interests while he's in town:

Obviously, he spends time with Cambina, both in the Castle and in Town. He's also easy to find in the Castle in the Library, tending to read histories and mathematics; or keeping tabs on the Knights, since it seems that for a time he'll be the only Knight Commander in Amber. In the City, he continues to favor the King's Gambit, making a steady but unhurried drive to bring himself up in the chess and go rankings.

Lord Peal, who is an excellent go player, becomes a regular opponent of his.

He confines his continuing studies of Brand's papers to his own chambers, and occasionally makes sure that Dignity hasn't forgotten his task of checking the Banquet Hall every day.

And finally, he hasn't forgotten the nascent King's Army

[For the benefit of the new characters in town-- which I think might be limited to Hannah, when Brennan is there-- I'll give Brennan's description again, too.]

Brennan is a tall man, perhaps just a smidge over six foot tall, and obviously fit. At first glance, it's easy to mistake him for Bleys, since the hair and the eyes are the same color, and the body language is strikingly similar-- Brennan moves with a lazy, natural grace that most men would have to work hard to affect. But Brennan wears his hair longer, typically bound back in a long tail, and he dresses in the quieter colors of black, dark grey, and dark red. And although there's a physical presence about Brennan that marks him as one of the Family, he's much more soft-spoken than Bleys... or any number of his relatives, for that matter.


Hannah spends the quiet part of most afternoons sifting through books and papers in the library trying to find something useful to her profession. She doesn't seem too frustrated when she can't, because she's learning other things by virtue of reading. But perhaps she's just a little frustrated, from the way she's holding the left side of her long black hair, loose today, out of her face. Her blouse today is blue, bringing out the blue in her eyes even more.

She's got three books on the left and three on the right, and piles of paper about - some of which contain her own notes. She glances up whenever someone comes in, as if she's waiting for someone.

And so it is that Brennan and Hannah get their first look at each other, Brennan striding into the library like a man on a mission-- that mission being to speak to one of the librarians and check on his various research requests, before passing an evening engaged in reading.

Seeing Hannah, he stops, looks her over quickly but thoroughly, and then changes course. "You must be Hannah," he says. Brennan's a softspoken man by nature, able to compell many people to lean forward just by lowering his voice, if he chose. Right now, he pitches his voice to carry easily to her ears, but not much farther. "Brennan," he says, by way of introduction, and if her hands are free, he extends on of his own.

Hannah rises, pushing her chair aside and smiling up at him. She reaches for his hand, hesitating only slightly before deciding on a handshake posture.

If she permits it, Brennan transforms the handshake into a handkiss, and an "I'm charmed."

Hannah blushes, but says with a smile, "Then you're easily charmed."

Hannah tilts her head just a little to the right as she looks Brennan up and down. "I don't think there was a Brennan on the list of princes I got, so you must be a cousin. You could join me, if you'd like?" she offers, pushing papers into the middle of the table.

"Since no one's told me I'm a prince, I must be," he says smoothly, and takes her invitation to sit down in his characteristic sprawl. "My father, on the other hand, was a prince, by the name of Brand." He watches her reaction to see how much she's been told, or knows, about family history.

From Hannah's little nod, she seems to know something, but certainly doesn't seem horrified. "And I'm a mystery," she says, with a little secret smile, "at least on this side of the family. So... what brings you to the library?"

"Books," Brennan says, with a perfect deadpan. But, having been reminded of that, he waves the first librarian-- probably not Nestor himself-- over to their table. When that worthy arrives, he hands over a short list, heavily informed by Cambina's background knowledge, still filling in whatever gaps there may be in his knowledge of Amber's history. If Cambina was able to give suggestions on books that would delve into some of the lesser known princes and princesses, they are on that list.

Turning back to Hannah, he explains further, "History, as it happens. Military history, and political history... both of which follow the Family Tree closely. I expect you'll be pestered about your place in it very shortly, if you haven't already."

Hannah snorts. "Oh, I've been pestered already. Princess Fiona offered to cast a spell for me, and I must admit I'm sorely tempted for it's not every day one gets to see one's own birth, but... it seems a little too invasive. Disrespectful, you know. There may be a very good reason I was where I was - why my father hasn't told me things." She shrugs, and the smile creeps up on her again. "Are you just curious? You don't have a family tree here, do you?"

Brennan's eyebrows rise. "Are you asking me if I've got a tree of my own, here? Or hasn't anyone thought to give you the thumbnail sketch of the Family, yet? And yes, I'm curious. So will everyone else be. So should you be. Most people, including me, would take either Dworkin's word or Fi's word," clearly Brennan's heard a little bit of her story, "as authoritative, but the details will interest people. Lineage is important, here."

Hannah nods, taking him seriously. "I have noticed that. I know about what anyone working in the stables would know. So enlighten me, and as soon as I know something to enlighten you with, I will. Dworkin... it's not a surname, is it? He thought my father might be one of his descendants too. I wouldn't be shocked by that." Hannah shuffles papers until she finds a blank one and gets ready to take notes.

"Bigger paper," Brennan says, "Or very small handwriting." He gives her a chance to find bigger paper or a finer quill, if she desires, then begins.

"Let's leave any questions of Oberon's descent for another time," he says, "And start with him. Oberon was the King of Amber since time out of mind, at least for most of us. And let's work from the youngest, both to give you an idea of the scale, and because his youngest child is also the King. Timekeeping is awkward, but if Random's as young as five centuries, I'd be surprised. Random's mother was Paulette, deceased. Random also has at least one son, Martin. Random had a sister, as I recall, also deceased."

He gives her a chance to write that down, giving a pointer as to the scale on the paper, if she needs it. "Next up from that are Julian, and his younger brother Gerard, by Rilga, deceased. Julian: Four children: Daeon and Dione, and Jovian, and Robin. Dione is deceased. Gerard: Two children: Vere and Solange."

"Sorry you asked, yet?" Brennan asks. He gives her enough time to write all that down, and then ask questions.

"Not at all," Hannah says, while still looking down and underlining Gerard and Jovian. Then she glances at Brennan. "I have whole tribes of cousins, back home. But I do appreciate you walking me through this."

"There will be a quiz later," Brennan replies, airily.

Hannah laughs. "Why do you think I'm taking notes?"

"Next up in age, although I wouldn't put it to her this way, is Flora, daughter of Dybele, deceased. Skipping one, for good reason, is Llewella, daughter of Moins. Flora has a son, Lucas."

Hannah scribbles, and underlines Lucas. "Why are we skipping?"

"Because Clarissa's brood, collectively known as 'The Redheads' straddles Llewella. Brand, therefore, is younger than Llewella. Brand is very very dead," Brennan says this, not only with no remorse, but even a touch of satisfaction, "after fathering myself, my younger sister Chantico, and my younger brother Ambrose."

Hannah stops what she's doing and looks at him.

A much younger Brennan would return her look with a challenge. Brennan just looks at her and says, "It was a group effort, and necessary."

Hannah nods, but her eyes are sympathetic.

"Bleys, on the other hand, is older, and Fiona, whom you've met, older still. Bleys' daughter is Paige; Fiona's children are Brita and Conner. I should note, here, that full siblings among my generation is a rarity. We live much longer than most people."

Hannah nods, still scribbling. "Heard that from the 'world's oldest teenage punk.'" She gets everyone down and goes back to add Solace, Hope and Phillipe. She underlines them, Brennan, Fiona and Brita. "I'm going to be horribly rude and ask how old you are. How old are you?" she whispers.

"By my reckoning... somewhere north of five centuries, but not by much. Like I said, I'd be surprised if Random were younger than I am. But that only leaves me leeway to return the question. And to ask why some names are getting underlined."

"I'm thirtytwo. Apparently, no longer an old maid," she chuckles, but she does seem relieved.

"Young, but not the youngest," Brennan says.

"Well, thanks for that. I'm used to being the *oldest*! And I'm underlining the people I've met. Let us see if there is a pattern to it. Who is next?"

"The Faiellenes," Brennan says. "Deirdre was Faiella's youngest, now dead. Brand took her with him." There is no satisfaction in Brennan's voice at that. "Her son is Marius. Then Caine. Then Corwin, whose children are Merlin and Celina. Then Eric, dead, as a result of Brand's machinations, survived by Jerod and Cambina. Eric was King in Amber, briefly, as was Corwin, even moreso."

"Corwin isn't dead?" she asks.

"Nope. And the last ones are the Cymneans. Benedict is the only surviving one, and his daughter, Lilly, is even younger than you are." Brennan pauses, then doesn't even try to explain the details of the rest of Benedict's descendants, except, "He has other descendants, too, but most of them are distant.

"Benedict's older brothers were Finndo and Osric. Finndo.... well, Finndo's descendants are also distant. And numerous. You can just draw two blobs under Finndo and label them 'Moonrider Charlie Foxtrot' Groups One and Two. You can probably put Group Three under Benedict, in fairness. Osric apparently only had one son, though, Reid, who still lives."

Brennan surveys the diargam Hannah produces from all this.

"Wow," Hannah says, amused, and finishing off what she's got. Caine gets an underline, and Cambina. She turns it and shifts her chair a little closer to Brennan so they can both look at it from a better angle. "So Folly's Gerard's ward, she gets to go in the 'mysterious' category with me? What about Ossian?"

"Ah, yes," Brennan says, with a thin smile. "Ossian. Yes, he deserves a category, and 'mystery' is as good as any.

"And now you know all about us, but I know so little about you." Thus Brennan begins the quiz.

Hannah turns to him and grins. "Well, I'm a doctor," she begins. "What do you want to know?"

"That tells me what you do, not who you are, or where you came from, or how you came to be in the company of Fiona and Dworkin," Brennan says.

"Well, doctoring is a *big* part of who I *am* - I'm a healer. I come from the land of the Omaha, where our people still live, so far. My father is a tribal chieftan. I sit on the elder's council, sort of. I have three mothers, none of whom gave birth to me," she grins. "On our family tree, we wouldn't separate out children by virtue of their mother's blood. It's not our way. And I am able to walk in the realms... a week ago I would have said the spirit realm and the animal realm but I've gotten a third education since then. I've been talking to the spirits since I became a woman."

"That's how I meet our great-grandmother - or so Brita calls her. The Unicorn, who I thought a Spirit, and she wanted me to follow her. I did that, of course, because who wouldn't?" She laughs. "She brought me to the Gryffon. You know him?"

Brennan raises an eyebrow, and without looking around, decides that it is highly improbable that anyone in the library happened to be standing close enough to overhear them. "A word to the wise, Hannah: From what I can gather, much of what you likely saw or heard in that place is not spoken of outside the Family. That the Unicorn took you where she did speaks very highly of you," he says quietly, "But there are reasons to keep some things close to the vest. Just so you know." He lets that sink in for a moment, but obviously doesn't want to belabour the point.

She nods. "The more things change, the more they stay the same," she sighs, but she looks like she feels a little foolish. "Thanks."

"You walk in the realms?" He asks.

"Spiritwalking. The mind has to leave the body," she says, more quietly. "Not like... shadow shifting." Something about that phrase amuses her a lot. Her eyes just sparkle with repressed mirth. She is definitely controling her volume so only Brennan can hear her.

"Interesting," Brennan says. "Is that a common skill in Omaha?"

"Usually there is one or two in each generation who can do it. Well, I shouldn't say it that way. Part of..." she looks off, thinking of words, "...we have a coming of age ritual as part of that we go on a spirit walk. This is lead, usually, by the wicasa wakan, um... holy man of the tribe. Sometimes the wicasa wakan is also the pejuta wacasa, the doctor, and sometimes not."

"My teacher was both. I'm both. But my point is, we believe anyone who applies themselves and prepares properly can go on a spirit walk. The wicasa wakan, though, usually picks those who have... for who the connection to the spirit world is stronger, and they learn the ways of, well," she breaks out into another smile, "negotitating with the Spirits. Dealing with the animals."

"Interesting," Brennan says, again. "It's all very egalitarian to believe that everyone has that ability, and I'll not dispute it-- Omaha is your home and I don't believe I've been there. But there are very sound reasons to believe that descent plays a very large role in the abilities of the Family. So, while I won't dispute it, I will question it, for a while: do you know that everyone can perform those skills? Or is it a cultural belief that serves a social purpose?"

Hannah doesn't seem to have a problem being questioned, at least, not about this. "I know everyone I've tried to take has been able to go with enough help. Sometimes that help is teaching them how to let go of possessions, or even ideas. Almost always a person would need to fast. Sometimes people need physical help to disconnect - there are certain herbs that help with that. But I have an assistant who can do it on her own almost as easily as I can, ten years younger, and as far as I know she is not a cousin. My teacher, as far as I know, is not a cousin. My father was born into a neighboring tribe - the chief of the Omaha adopted him and named him his eldest son, so most of my blood cousins there are actually Ponca.

"It may just be - I've been thinking about this." Hannah tucks her hair back behind her right ear. "I think we, my people, I mean, and the people like us who do this sort of thing, that we are only traveling to realms that are part of ours, but that are inaccessible to most people. We believe they are connected, part of Makato - this is what we call our earth, our world. The Blue Earth. So, it is not the same as going everywhere, or anywhere."

He thinks for a moment. "Have you been able to do that here, as well?"

Hannah sighs. "I tried it the other morning with Ossian. I think it's possible, but I didn't prepare him at all, and we were inside and..." she shrugs. "I do think it's possible."

"You use a lot of unfamiliar words," Brennan observes. But he does not bog the conversation down in definitions, just yet. He does seem interested in the mention of helping other people, particularly Ossian's evident failure. "What's involved in helping people? How do you know it's not something inherent to you, and not them? And... what's it like?"

Hannah grins and shrugs. Her manner is very gentle, and open. "You like to ask complicated questions. There is one thing I know, and that's that there are a lot of things I don't know. If anything, the last week has reminded me thoroughly that I am still a student... of the universe. I don't know that I'm not sharing a skill inherent in me, except that still means at least some of them can learn it. But yes, a great deal of my knowledge about this is belief, and I do believe the Omaha have been taking spirit walks since we've been on the earth." Hannah's inner scientist smiles dryly at a belief wrapped in a belief.

Brennan shrugs. "It just seems to me, looking in from the outside, that it would be easy to a false induction. It's an easy trap to fall into."

Hannah shrugs back at him with a grin. She really doesn't have a better answer for that.

"As for helping, and what it's like, it's different for everyone. A spirit walk is so much a personal, inner journey. For me, sometimes it's an escape. Sometimes it's a danger - sometimes there are things to be overcome there. It's always beautiful there, even when it is dark and dangerous. Sometimes it is just work. But it would be different for anyone else. Just like all the many reasons someone might have a hard time going are different - the common thread is that someone is attached to their body, or even the earth, for whatever reason. Sometimes it's as simple as having eaten. Some people are," she hesitates to use the word, but then does, "cursed."

"That's a term freighted with particular meaning, here, Hannah," Brennan says. "Is that a word with a precise definition, for you?"

She looks concerned. "I don't know about precise, but it means... I've never tried to say this like this before." She has to stop and think about it. "It's not bad luck. A piece of land can be cursed - there are places that are dangerous to go to for certain people. A curse happens when someone uses all their... magic, for lack of a better word, to force something, usually negative, on someone else who can't resist it without using all of their magic, and sometimes not even then. So if someone had been cursed to walk the earth all their days, they probably wouldn't be able to take a spirit walk without breaking the curse."

Brennan asks, "Is that something else that everyone in your home can do? It's an interesting place you come from."

Hannah sighs. "It is an interesting place, and no, I wouldn't say everyone can do it. I've never seen it done. But because of who I am I have to learn about it. It's... theory. Well, I've felt a curse on a piece of land before - but I don't know who did it. What does it mean here?" she wants to know.

"In general outline," Brennan answers, "it seems similar for us, except... larger. And by us, I mean the Royal Family, again. It's believed that Corwin's Curse was enough to change the course of the war. It was believed that you had to die to make a Blood Curse stick... one reason the number of fratricides and sororicides has been so low," he muses. Then he notices that pesky word, 'belief' creeping into his descriptions, and he flashes an almost Bleysian smile. "A lot of things are believed," he continues, "but even though they're not the deterrant they used to be, I don't think anyone wants to get close enough for a proper study."

"Belief is a powerful thing," Hannah notes, smiling at his smile. "Another specialized family ability. Would it hurt your beliefs if you found out the family wasn't so special? I mean, I believe," she laughs, "that it must be, but... I'm just curious. Would it bother you if all the Omaha could really spirit walk without help, for example?"

"If I found the Omaha could spiritwalk, specifically? No, I don't think so. I've been enough places to see all sorts of people with different abilities that the Family doesn't have, especially when they're confined to their own Shadows, all the way up to angry gods and demons. But I haven't met anyone who can move between Shadows as we do, going where we will, when we will," Brennan says. "That's a pretty high bar to jump, really."

"You've seen demons?" she whispers, completely enthralled with this conversation.

Brennan lets that hang in the air for a beat, then answers, "I've killed demons." He gives a facial shrug, knowing there was no way truthful out of that without sounding like he was boasting. "Depending on who you ask, anyway. The troops I was leading at the time were about to wet their fur-- to them, they were demons. Demons of one sort or another are a frequent theme in Shadow. Sometimes, they happen to be real."

She nods slowly. "I'm glad there is someone around who can kill demons. This was... in the war?"

Brennan shrugs again, evidently a little less impressed with his own exploits than Hannah is, in this regard. But only a little. "Yeah, that was during the war. It probably shouldn't surprise me that the contingent I led saw figures out of their own religious background-- they served us from start to finish because their eschatonic myths were reflections of our current events. Right now, it's filed under Spooky Shadow Coincidences, of which there are a great many. At the time, it was very unpleasant to turn around and see your brave, battle-hanrdened warriors ready to drop the standard and bolt."

"I imagine it was," she smiles gently.

"This would have been about the same time as-- and as far aay as I know to get from where-- Gerard's legs were crushed."

Hannah's eyebrows go up. "You mean precisely, or in that week - that month?"

"Impossible to tell, given the differences in time flow, but stranger coincidences have happened." Brennan waits patiently for Hannah to realize that the subject has been changed to that of Gerard's health.

[Hope Brennan is very patient, because he just introduced a new and troubling concept.]

"Differences in time flow?" she asks, looking worried.

"One of the properties of Shadows is time," Brennan says. "As such, it can vary from Shadow to Shadow. Or beyond."

"A lot? How can you tell?" Hannah wonders, sitting back a little and biting on her bottom lip.

"By going back and asking questions, usually," Brennan says. "Gerard?"

"Gerard?" she echoes. "I think he's amazing. I really like him. He was the regent while you were all off fighting; I have that right? He's certainly practical, and you've got to like that in a leader."

"Everybody likes Gerard," Brennan says, "Which is why I had tried so delicately to shift the conversation to the state of his health."

Hannah's smile gentles a little as she nods. "And that's not something I talk about without permission, so I was avoiding. If you went to him, I'm certain he'd talk to you." She watches Brennan's reaction to this very carefully.

Brennan's reaction to this is utter bafflement. "Why?"

Hannah looks suprised, and then she grins. "It just makes good sense. Would you want me telling something... intimate - if you'll admit a lot of medicine is - about you to someone you hadn't specifically told me I could?"

Brennan's clearly not on the same wavelength, here, still baffled. "Do they have infectious plagues, where you're from? Pretty hard to enforce a quarantine without public information. In fact, it's pretty difficult without specialists to make sure the public information is accurate."

Hannah's face loses a little color. "Of course they have infectious plagues where I'm from. Doctors talk with one another about what they're seeing and a threat to the community is just that. I'd take it to the council and all the appropriate measures would be taken, presuming I could convince them they needed taking. I can only reassure you that I haven't treated anyone with anything I considered infectious here, and if I did run into such a thing I would make sure it was brought to the Kings attention. Does that set your mind at ease, any?" she asks, not grinning anymore.

"It was a serious question, but not because I was worried-- some places don't. Or at the very least, some places have no history of pandemics, or their controls are so effective that luxuries like privacy and personal reputation can take the center stage. Uxmal, where I come from, is carved out of hot, steamy jungle and ruled over by cruel godlings. Plagues are part of life, and they don't leave much room for privacy in the medical outlook," Brennan says. "It's those little cultural differences that'll get you, every time."

Hannah seems to relax a bit again. "Every time," she agrees, getting her little grin back, and shakes her head. "We've... well, we're learning a lot right now, where I'm from. There are new discoveries all the time. Some doctors are trying very experimental surgeries. I try not to experiment when it comes to cutting people open, but I suppose someone has to figure out how everything works. I'm usually too busy trying to keep everything working to do that though. I'm fine for reading about it later, most of the time.

"Of course, here... well, maybe not here, but there is a lot out in shadow..." she shrugs at herself for not being able to put it into words. "I've got a lot to learn."

"Ah," Brennan muses, "You're from one of the dangerous Shadows, then. All sorts of rapid change, everyone running in a hundred directions, no one really knowing where they're going to be when the whole thing ends." He manages to make that sound like a caution and an enticement at the same time.

Hannah laughs quietly. "In the East, yes, it's very much like that. That's where I went to school. At home, it's more sedate, as long as everyone isn't taking ill or breaking themselves somehow. I'm busy, everyone works hard, but it isn't as chaotic as life in the city. And you grew up with 'cruel godlings'. What was that like?"

"Unpleasant," Brennan understates, "but probably differently so for me than for most. With Brand on the scene running the the local pantheon like a high-strung crime family, not many of the godlings would step out line to threaten me directly. Brand had plans for me, and none of the godlings' importance could compare to that-- he'd have slain them outright.

"The people had it rough-- they could either run the risk of being sacrificed, or they could run the risk of weather disasters, plagues, both locust and infectious, and whatnot. Sometimes both, but usually not to the same exact people. They didn't really have an alternative, so they got used to it. On the other hand, I had to deal with Brand directly. I didn't have to get used to it, so I didn't."

Hannah nods slowly. "That's a hard way to grow up, but some of the strongest people come out of the most difficult circumstances. Are your two younger siblings here too, then?"

"No," Brennan says sourly, "And one of them probably never will."

Hannah hesitates just a moment, and then just asks, "Why not?"

"Badly socialized," Brennan says. "Does not work and play well with others." It's clearly not a topic he's willing to talk about.

She nods slowly. "I don't know if my siblings even belong here, although I suspect I'll find that out sooner or later. My little sister and brother are very well socialized, one might say my sister is a bit too good at it. I don't know if she'd give up her burgeoning celebrity to become just one of the wagon load of cousins."

"Full siblings?" Brennan asks.

Hannah opens her mouth, and shuts it. She grins again. "Not the way you mean, no. We share a father. But..." she glances around and continues more quietly, "Mister... ah, Dworkin said he wouldn't be surprised if my father was one of his descendants."

"Really," Brennan says. "A brother and a sister, both descended of Dworkin? Fascinating. Tell me about them?"

"Well, they're a pain," Hannah laughs. Her smile betrays her love of them, although she's sincere that they're a pain. "Susette is our middle child who should have been born first. She was always trying to give me a run for my money, and doesn't like losing, but then, neither do I, and I was born first. We got sent to finishing school, out East, and she was in her glory. It wasn't like I'd been allowed to run wild, but Susette had done a lot of imitating of me, so it was easier for her to imitate manners and speech and... grace. Took me longer, but I got it, eventually. Though by then I was just faking and she was actually a little lady.

"We both taught in our school, at home, for a year before my non-traditional teaching methods started raising eyebrows, and then I went back off to school for a long time. When I came back she wasn't teaching anymore either. She was translating at trials - do you have trials here? And then she was traveling around with this reporter she'd met giving speeches and generally trying to get people to understand the plight affecting our cousin tribe. They just got engaged, and somehow she's managed to get herself invited overseas to talk to some rich people..." Hannah shrugs again, clearly not real sure what to make of that.

"Then there's Frank. Francis. But he prefers Frank, although being Francis taught him to fight. He's the baby, and he knows it. But he's the Chief's only son, and he knows that too. He's good, he's just," she looks off into space, "he's good with people, when he wants to be. Went and got two law degrees, but lately he's just been around home, working with Alice. Alice came to record... everything. Father's not too happy about this, because Frank wants it all recorded 'just in case' and father isn't interested in 'just in case'. Frank also plays the drums, like the King, and gets that same sparkle in his eye when he's teasing, just like that's his natural state, or something. But then, everyone back home, pretty much, can at least beat on a drum.

"Frank's a good kid. He's offered to break bones on every man who has ever hurt me, and that's real sweet of him, but I'd rather he didn't because I'm going to end up having to set them then, and that's not pretty. He's just got a mean streak that's gotten him beaten within an inch of his life more than once. Luckily, I think he's grown up enough that he takes his mean streak out in court, now.

"Now, Brennan, this is hardly fair. Tell me about some cousins, or something," Hannah insists, crossing her arms. She's obviously not going to push him on the sibling issue.

Brennan glances down at the Family tree that Hannah's sketched out with his help, and says lightly, "After you stonewalled me on Gerard's health and well-being?" He's kidding, except for the part where he's not. "Very well, pick a Prince or a Princess. If I can't or won't tell you about the descendants, you can pick another. The farther back you go, the less I'll know about their descendants. But let me see if I understand this so far: you have one biological father, who raised you; one biological mother, whom you haven't mentioned; three social mothers; and two siblings on the father's side. The father was himself adopted, and is suspected as a descendant of Dworkin, although the details are unknown, at least to you. Does that about sum it up, so far?"

Hannah grins. "Pretty much. If I knew anything worthwhile to tell you about my biological mother, I'd tell you. It's all heresay, father doesn't discuss her. My grandmother lived with us awhile, and I think she very well knew who my father's father was, but she died when I was little, and I sure never asked. The Chief before my father was his mother's cousin, and he took them in and educated my father. Part of how the Chief names an heir in our tribe is to adopt the person that he thinks is most fit as his 'Eldest Son.' Hope that makes more sense."

Brennan nods, tucking a question away for later.

Hannah narrows her eyes at the chart, uncrossing her arms and leaning back in to study it. "I'd like to hear more about the King."

"The youngest of the pack of Princes, as I said before. Also, the most easy-going, from what I've seen, although I only first met him a few months ago, my perspective. I was one of his officers on the field, before he was made King. Don't let him fool you, though-- even as the baby of the Family, it's hard to live that long, in this Family, without being pretty crafty," Brennan says.

"His son is Martin, who I think is not too much younger than I am. I don't know him terribly well, but he's got some sharp edges, too." Brennan doesn't say that like it's a bad thing. "I didn't meet him until after the War. He's got Rebman ancestry in him, too."

['m assuming this is before the news about Garrett is definite.]

[Are we in time after Vialle or before my Vialle thread? I was thinking after, which means, Hannah's not going to mention it anyway. And if before, well, she's still not going to mention it.]

"Think back carefully, now: You've probably noticed by now that you're stronger, smarter, faster than most of the people you knew back home. You've probably been told that half a dozen times, now. Is that true of your father and your brother and sister, too?"

"I've never seen them do any of the acts of strength I know I can do, but then, I've never seen them in situations where they'd need to. My father is the Chief. We're already supposed to be stronger, smarter and faster," Hannah announces and grins.

"I don't remember not being expected to be better than everyone else. There were repercussions to not getting good marks, to lagging behind in a hunt, to not achiving something. So we all did. People in the tribe don't find this remarkable at all - it's just the way it is. No one in my tribe was surprised when I became a doctor, or when Susette went on her rampage for rights, or when Frank came home with twice as many degrees as he left for. The surprise would have been if any of us failed, and it wouldn't have been a pleasant surprise. My father... has expectations and wants them met."

That doesn't seem to bother her too much, and she moves right back to her topic, but somewhat more quietly. "So... what about the Queen? The only person who mentioned her to me in connection with the King was... a servant. Does that mean she's not regarded as being relevant? I see the string of 'wives' here..."

"I don't know Queen Vialle very well, except that she's a Rebman as well, but not related to Martin. At least, not that I know of. Her relevance will be, quite honestly, whatever she and Random make it to be. On the rare occasions that I need to speak with the King directly, it's typically on matters of Family, or matters in which she's displayed little interest. I doubt that she'll be ir-relevant," Brennan emphasizes, "since she was his Regent when he and Martin were both out of Amber recenty."

Hannah smiles. This seems to please her.

He returns to the subject of her siblings, and says, "The matters of your siblings and your parentage could turn out to be important, though. I know it might be difficult to separate some of those factors out if you weren't very special in a very special family, but think about it for a while, if you would. Unknown, untrained Family members can be a danger to themselves and others." He holds up a hand to stem the obvious question: "Not immediately, like walking time bombs. More in the sense of strategic or security concerns. It's an unpleasant universe out there, and some groups aren't discriminating in their grudges against the Family."

Hannah stares at him a minute, putting things together. Then she nods. "I'll meditate on it. I have to go back, when I can, but things have already gotten complicated," she sighs. She looks distant and worried now.

"Be a little worried, Hannah," Brennan says, "but not too worried. Here's how I'd break it down: On the one hand, you and yours have stayed out of the Family's collective eyes for quite some time. It's possible that your father is older than you think, unless exhaustive birth records is part of your culture. That's a pretty big hand-- a few people knew about me, but for the most part, I stayed out of attention for hundreds of years. On the other hand, apparently well-hidden branches of the Family have been sniffed out before, and more importantly, you're known now. Anyone looking for more Family members might start by looking for yours. I'd make that a pretty small hand, for the moment.

"In other words," he says, "I'm not trying to panic you or send you running back home. But there are things you need to be aware of, and some of the nicer, friendlier members of the Family might be inclined to pussyfoot around the issues, where I have a personal interest in making sure these things don't ever happen again. Go ahead and ask about another branch."

"Let me ask about something else. Since you don't pussyfoot around," Hannah begins, with a little quirk at the corner of her lips. She gets quiet, yet again. "Who was cut open in the center of the labyrinth?"

"Sometimes not pussyfooting is just refusing to answer," he drawls. "So, no. It wasn't me, but no. That's his story, if he wants to tell it. And that's definitely on the list of topics not to be discussed outside of the Family. You understand why it was done?"

Hannah nods. "Dworkin said Fiona's favorite little brother was trying to solve one of the problems with the metaphysical... Oh." She glances down at the map of lives before her, and back up at Brennan with apologetic eyes, as things fall into place, one right after the other. "That was dumb of me. I see why you're so angry, and protective."

"'Solve one of the problems,'" Brennan repeats. "An interesting way to put it. One of the natural consequences of that solution-- and quite intended, I assure you-- was death and destruction on a grand scale. It also led directly to Grandfather's death, Eric's death, and Deirdre's death. It's why we killed him. Don't worry about it, though-- most people never have to think along those lines to begin with."

"Dworkin told me his son died, about the stabbing, and then someone just happened to mention Corwin managed to get his eyes burned out and grew them back. I can't check on my people back home, and I have responsibilities there, and there is a chance my blood's in danger. I can't go into the woods to try to make some of what I'm not finding here, because there is a war on, I have to re-educate myself because things are different and things exist I haven't even contemplated yet and I'm living off the charity of the King. I'm walking blind here, but I'll try not to worry, Brennan," she says very calmly and quietly. She rests her elbow on the table and her chin on her fist and gazes up at him.

"Good," Brennan says. It's up to Hannah to decide if he's joking when he says, "It won't be long before things get serious. Welcome to the Family."

"You could fix it all for me, and then I'd be all set," she teases with a lopsided grin.

"Yes," he agrees, "Because an outlander running around your home Shadow interviewing your father and siblings is exactly what you want to have happen right now."

She sits back and gives his hair a long look, and laughs before she can stop herself. "Oh, they'd find you interesting. But no, even the great warrior who battles demons can't fix all my woes. Or even if you could, that'd be a lot more than I'd be willing to owe any one person."

Brennan gives a cynical smile. She's learning.

Hannah glances at the chart they've made, and bites on her lip a minute before she asks, "Do you have time to tell me the war story? That's probably asking too much, but it'd help me understand some of the things I see around me, in people, I bet."

"*The* war story?" Brennan says. "That's a bit long in the telling, since like most wars, it's not like people just up and decided that it was time to hold a war. It's a thread that had been snaking through Amber's history since before I was born and only wrapped itself up into a knot of obvious, armed conflict in the last decade, or so. Besides, I doubt I know it all. Can you narrow it down a little?"

She wrinkles up her nose, thinking. She sighs. "Probably not. I don't know enough to narrow it down. I'm just used to a storytelling culture. No one has begun documenting all that yet, have they?"

"Boxer was with us at the last scrum," he says, "And I've given him free rein to work on the Patternfall Book of the Fallen. And I'd be surprised if someone isn't working on a broader volume. The condensed version is that Brand got various notions into his head, worked with the enemies of Amber to achieve them, and could not be dissuaded even at the final reckoning. It is why he had to die, and why some of us are still waiting for a Blood Curse to manifest."

Hannah nods and presses her lips together in thought. "When it does, I'd be happy to help counter it. I always love to find out how things work, and don't, in application. So, and just change the subject on me if I'm causing you pain or prying too much, but you seem to have just suggested that if Brand had... come back over at the end he would have been allowed to live. That suggestion surprises me."

"It surprises me, too," he says, "but I wasn't in on the decision-making process. For all the violence of the past ten years or so, the Family has been small and stable for the last few thousand years prior. Even aside from the blood curses, peers must have been very hard to find, and I get the impression that fratricide was never a serious option no matter how much you hated your brother.

"This generation is different, at least some of us. There are dozens of us, now, plus our parents. Peers aren't hard to find. And Brand took the Family across a line that can't easily be uncrossed."

"So we're more likely to just kill each other?" she asks, but she's got a little smile. "Well, maybe you would be, if someone were to start doing things that made you feel they were a threat. I can see that. So which ones in this generation are the different ones?"

"Different in which way? Different from our Elders and more likely to kill? Or different from me, and less likely to?" Brennan asks.

"Let's start with the ones more likely to kill," Hannah suggests, in her own best interest.

Brennan packs more meaning into a snort than most men in paragraphs. "Well I'm not going to give you a list of names of Cousins I think are murderers and thugs. Decorum, and all. But if you want a guiding principle, those who have lost the most, irreplaceably, those who were threatened the most, and those who saw the results of his ambition up close just might have a little darker outlook on life."

Hannah does not pout, but she gives Brennan a very disappointed look. "That's helpful. If I had the war story, I could even guess some of that for myself. Let's see," she looks to her chart, "is Marius bitter? Are Jerod and Cambina? Are there feuds between different factions going on quietly even now that I'm not seeing? I know the growing pains of having a new King in a new era, but my experience didn't involve physical warfare."

Them's the breaks, Brennan doesn't say. "You have Kings where you're from?"

Hannah resists her urge to answer him with a question, and takes a little breath instead. "In some places, or the equivalent. My father would be the equivalent - we have a council, but our cousin tribe calls them 'Joe's Council,' meaning they advise him more than what a traditional council would do - which is help decide. When he decided we should build framed-houses, the area they got built on became 'Joe's Village.' So, I've seen plenty of change, in the middle of what might be called a struggle for peace - or perhaps more appropriately, a struggle to avoid a war we can not win." Her color has risen a little, and she seems slightly angry, but she takes a deep breath and makes it go away.

Brennan listens attentively.

"I'm getting frustrated, and it's not your fault. I should probably get back to studying," Hannah sighs.

"All right, then," he says amiably. "Perhaps next time, I can tell you some war stories."

"Yeah. Thanks," she tilts her head toward the 'tree', "for this, and everything."


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Last modified: 30 January 2005