Once Jerod is suitably ready to travel again, decides to take a small trip out of the palace and down to the Amber Embassy. A nice walk will be pleasant no doubt, and he'll get a chance to check out the behaviour of those around him as he makes his trip. He is curious to see what people are doing and how they are behaving.
As per his normal routine, he goes armed but with the spear this time instead of a sword. He does not carry it at the ready as one would see with uniformed troops but walks with it as a staff, the end cap making the occasional click-tick sound on the ground as he proceeds.
Once he arrives at the embassy, he makes his presence known to the staff, that he has been sent by King Random as his personal representative to the Court of Moire and that the Ambassador, while being duly notified of his presence no doubt, is not the reason that Jerod is here. He then advises them that he requires an air pocket and that it be in a shielded room - why is none of their business - the Ambassador may ask, but no one else is even remotely likely to get an answer. And unlike the Court of Moire where he is only a Duke, Jerod is not prepared to tolerate the snivelling or stalling behaviour of any subordinate to any of his "requests". The first one that does get verbally reamed...after that, well, this is a PG list...we won't go into the details...:)
They'll arrange it. Meanwhile, they summon Droit.
Droit is glad to see Jerod again and very happy to cooperate with Jerod's request. He takes time to ask news of the royal family and convey various tidbits of court information to Jerod. He's very concerned about Jerod's injuries, of which he was informed (since Jerod is, of course, a member of Amber's royal family), and wants to know whether he should protest formally to the Queen.
Jerod is studiously polite, advising Droit of the ascension of Random to the throne and assuring him that instructions will no doubt be soon to follow once the King gets around to settling the returning army and dealing with any matters of state held in abeyance during the Regency for the return of the monarch.
As for a formal protest, Droit is advised that Jerod will be undertaking the protest himself, and that those responsible would be dealt with. Droit will get the impression that Rebman officials will not be the ones involved in dishing out the "dealt with" part.
Finally, he advises Droit that he is charged by order of the King with undertaking an investigation of Demond Hargar'el death and could Droit please arrange to have any of his staff who have information on Hargar'el and his activities in Rebma, both private and public, to be available in one hour. Jerod will then tell him that he has something to attend to and head off to the shielded room for the trump call. Droit is not invited to accompany him - it is not done in a nasty way, Jerod just expects him to arrange the staff information.
Droit goes off to arrange a briefing.
Now, whether there actually IS any information is not necessarily important. If there is, great...:). But in any event, it gets the staff busy and active and out of Jerod's hair, and it also means he can get them digging later for more information...and stirring the pot a bit more as Jerod wants.
Once in the secure room, Jerod pulls out his trump deck and riffles through to find Corwin's card and then puts the rest of the deck away before concentrating on the image.
Assuming contact is made, he offers "Uncle? It's Jerod."
Corwin is seated at a desk when Jerod makes contact. "Jerod? How are you?" He peers at his nephew, as if he's trying to figure out where Jerod is.
"The Embassy." Jerod replies in answer to the unasked question. "They've got an air pocket and at least a reasonable chance of having a shielded room, though I doubt it would stop anyone really determined."
"I've finished healing up as much as I'm prepared to while sitting in a room. I decided it was also time to contact you and collect that bit of detritus." he says.
Jerod will wait for any reply from Corwin before adding. "I understand Uncle Random has finished his bug zapper. Any word from him concerning Amber?"
"Where'd you hear that?" asks Corwin.
"She who must be obeyed but whom you know through your youngest offspring whom you recently met." Jerod says, disliking the use of names where surveillance might exist. "I have not yet had an audience with her privately. She spoke to Vere about it when we first arrived. He spoke to me. I put one plus one plus kaput together and that's what came out. I'm sure Uncle Random probably knows this but if you talk to him soon, you might want to warn him that she's probably monitoring him. I already tried but got nada."
"Your sums are wrong."
"How so?" Jerod asks.
"Random hasn't completed his task yet. Perhaps Moire thought it was inevitable. That's more confidence in him than I'd've expected from her. Are you sure your cousin wasn't confused about when this was? That does run in the family..."
"He made reference to a name that Moire gave him. Xanadu. It fits too well with Uncle Random to be anything other than his perfect place, minus the curse part of course." Jerod says. "Perhaps the mirrors gave her a foreshadowing. Either way, it is there and if it is true than she's keeping an eye out. I thought you might like to know that."
Corwin nods. "It's somewhat disturbing to think that your grandmother is having problems with time. It's a worrisome thing for my daughter."
Jerod makes note of the area that Corwin appears to be sitting in. "I don't see it anywhere, uncle?"
"It? Oh, yes, your swag. Bide a moment and I'll go get it."
"Aptly named. I'll wait." Jerod says with a smile.
Jerod waits, briefly. Corwin returns his attention to his brother's son shortly. "It's drier than when you passed it to me, but it's still closed. Where did you get it?" Corwin lifts the safe up and prepares to hand it to Jerod.
"The scene of two crimes." Jerod replies, reaching out for the safe. "Llewella's apartment."
Corwin raises an eyebrow. "Was it left there by safe-depositing miscreants or do I need to come up with an explanation for my sister about all this?"
The King of Paris neither hands the safe through nor moves to return it to the floor in his room.
"Perhaps I should come through to you."
"And do what uncle?" Jerod replies. "I've laid down my challenge, uncle. In public. I walked back into the castle bleeding and bruised and did not run and hide. The whole bloody kingdom knows something's up. And so does the enemy. I will not back down, not now. I don't have the option of bringing in help...not yet at least.
"Llewella's not going to know you had the safe, because I'm never going to tell her you were involved. As for this whole boondoggle, it's time for me to sink or swim. Either you believe that I can survive this on my own judgement and call for help when I think I need it, or I should just crawl back to my room." Jerod says, putting his hand out simply, neither reaching for the safe nor pulling back.
It is clear that it is Corwin's decision and Jerod will not try to manipulate or cajole him into coming around to Jerod's viewpoint. Put simply - Jerod is going to trust Corwin to believe him.
Corwin shrugs. "Taking the ball off the field is one thing, taking it off and cutting it open is another. One can be explained more easily to your aunt than the other. Depending on what you find, you might have bitten off more than you can chew, or you may just have crossed Llewella unwittingly. I'm not going to protect you from the consequences of your choices, but I won't join you in them, either." He hands the safe through. "I hope you have a good explanation for your aunt."
Jerod takes the safe, setting it on the ground beside him. "If I can't think of something, then I'll be sure to remain silent while I get kicked. Unless there's something seriously damaging inside this safe, I doubt it's going to get me killed. And if there is something that dangerous then I'd bet it's why Tritons are in her townhouse. Either way, it should prove interesting.
"I would thank you for your help uncle. I assure you Llewella will not know about it. Say hello to Celina the next time you see her, if I do not first."
And with that unless Corwin has more to say, he ends the trump call.
Whatever Corwin is thinking, he does not say. He nods farewell.
Then he sets about examining the safe. After inspecting it carefully to determine its stress and fracture points, he will head over to the door and open it. He's reasonably certain that Droit has put a minder out there to spy on Jerod, mainly because that's standard consular procedure for visitors. Once he locates the minder, Jerod informs them that he wants a set of tools brought to him - they will be common enough that he's certain they can find them (hammer, chisel, pry bar, etc).
There's an aide there, to insure your privacy and to run any errands you may need, your highness. They are brought promptly. Jerod is convinced that it will take some effort to open the safe, but he should have no problems doing so.
Then he bends his efforts to cracking it open and seeing what's inside. He will be reasonably careful to check the safe at periodic intervals...just in case someone booby-trapped it.
The safe is not Jerod-proof, and eventually he forces it open. Inside are only two items. A small hand gong with a striker and a mirror in an elaborately carved silver frame.
The mirror is immediately wrapped in Jerod's court coat, which has been put to one side for the moment.
After that, he examines the hand gong and striker carefully, looking for markings and such.
The gong's surface has curved traceries on it in geometric patterns. The center is beaten copper. The striker is mahogany or a similar wood.
The same will be done with the mirror, though he will be careful not to look too long at the mirror surface and will re-wrap it as soon as the visual examination is concluded.
It is of the highest quality and makes the even the dim light in this room warmer and more inviting. The frame is elaborately carved with decorative scrollwork with a dolphin and shell motif.
Next, he will relax and focus his concentration for several moments, calling into play some of the old meditation behaviours that he would have learned from his swordmaster to still his thoughts. He is looking to see if there are any magical traces that might be detectable, similar to what he first detected when he was with Merlin back in Paris.
Jerod detects nothing out of the ordinary.
And finally, once that is done, he will place each device in front of him, albeit with the mirror still covered. He then summons the Pattern to his mind as he has done in the past and touches each item in turn.
There are no traces of the kind of anti-pattern-ness that Jerod has previously detected using this method.
Jerod has a few questions but they are mostly to be put to an historian or two, mostly concerning the image designs. He wraps the items separately and stows them into separate small pouches that he keeps with him (from the description they appear to be fairly small and could be carried on the person without difficulty - please correct if that is not so).
["fairly small" is accurate]
At this point, he will collect the safe and have it stowed in a sack (he'll have the minder obtain one if necessary). Then he informs the minder to dispose of the sack the way that the embassy deals with anything of a sensitive nature that they do not want the Rebman authorities sifting through.
He nods, decides not to ask the question he obviously has on the tip of his tongue, and takes it away.
Once that's done, he heads off to find Droit and get that briefing.
Droit sees Jerod right away and, after offering him a beverage (a new delicacy from one of the Seaward shadows, it's a kind of curdled squid ink), gets to the point. "You've certainly piqued my curiosity, your grace. Or is it your excellence or your highness? It depends on why you're here, of course."
Jerod takes a sip of the drink, making a point to spit out a tiny bit. "Not bad. Needs more filtering." he says, seemingly half to himself.
"I'm here to find out about Demond and his activities." Jerod says, not immediately replying to Droit's question concerning his title. "He had the regrettable misfortune of getting himself murdered during King Random's coronation. His Majesty was rather displeased with that. Can't say I blame him. Random has sent me to...inquire further. My sister has remained in Amber to undertake her own investigation along with a member of the family. There is some question as to Demond's state of affairs prior to his making a run for it."
Wherever the most comfortable chair is, Jerod is sure to acquire it, barring Droit's of course. He's polite enough not to actually do that. "I want to know what Demond Hargar'el was up to prior to him vanishing, including his little dry goods smuggling activities. I also want to know his association with Thalia and the Gatwegians, and as well his involvement with Conner."
Droit shrugs. "Demond was up to his ears in Amber politics. Hargar'el is rich and wanted friends on all sides of your father's conflict with his brothers. Demond smuggled more to tie himself to others than for his family's benefit, although they took the profit from it. He was tight with the Gatwegans, who are supposed to be friends of Bleys. Then he was close to Random while he was here. He saw himself as keeping options open. Your father saw him as public enough to be easy to watch and looked the other way. Your father also did not wish to upset your mother and grandmother.
"I thought at the time that Conner was a fool to be involved with them, but I've since learned that he had fooled us. He was being set up to send a message to Demond and Thalia, but that seems to have backfired on the crown.
Droit steeples his hands in his lap. "He needs to stay out of Rebma. He'll be pushed off the stairs to keep him from unravelling loose threads."
[Note: that's a method of execution in Rebma, used more and less formally.]
"Somehow I don't see either of those two situations arising anytime soon where Conner is concerned." Jerod replies. "Though should he return on the QT, be sure to let me know. Circumstances have changed sufficiently that should something happen to Conner, life could get unpleasant.
"I'm not surprised about Demond being everyone's fix-it man. He was too much the scoundrel to be anything else. Same with Thalia. The Gatwegians are mercenary enough to have joined the redheads in the power struggle. No doubt the magic connection helped. So the next question to be asked is why set up Conner? What message could be sent to Demond and Thalia that would be important enough for them?"
He pauses for a moment before adding. "And how were Bend and Montage involved in this?"
Droit shrugs. "Do you assume that Rebma knew of Conner's parentage? I'm not even sure if your father did. If they didn't, then he was a perfect person to make an example of.
"Bend has a position at court because she is useful to the Queen. If they were involved, it was because it was useful to the Queen that they be so."
"I'm assuming for the moment that whoever pulled the Triton job didn't know about Conner's background. If they did, they took a big risk and for questionnable gains. Even something as simple as beating someone to inflict injuries is dangerous. You never know if you might mess it up and kill them. And pissing off Fiona is never a good idea, no matter how much power you might think you have." Jerod says.
Droit nods in agreement.
"So...after Conner's little introduction to blunt Triton diplomacy, anything happen? The story I've been fed says that Conner did some investigating but got little. Conner's girlfriend got grabbed, Demond helped him retrieve her and they all took off to parts unknown. I'm sure lots of stuff was left out."
"What I think or what the record shows?" Droit asks. "The story around court was that Conner got into a fight with his smuggling partners during which they killed several tritons and citizens. Then Conner killed his partners and escaped to Amber. Conner's motive is supposed to be jealousy, since he was not aware that Demond and Thalia were seeing each other.
"I think that sounds very plausible and thus is a great cover to whatever really happened."
"Do you think Conner knew about them?" Jerod asks. "And what do you think is the real story?"
"Conner might have, but even if he did, I don't think he's a cold-blooded murder. You don't have someone on your staff for as long as Conner worked for me and not know something about their character. He might have killed Hargar'el in a duel or a moment of passion. He wouldn't have killed the girl.
"I think whoever it was wanted Conner to stop investigating the townhouse, and I think it was advantageous to also cow Thalia and Demond, and I think it was also a message to Bend, and I think it was meant to roil the court. If it had worked it would have been brilliant. As it was it was merely very good."
"Why a message to Bend?" Jerod asks. "This sounds more like a message thru Bend to her superiors."
"It's a web, not a ladder. Not only isn't Bend the only actor in the court, she isn't the best choice for certain moves. Anytime you say 'the Rebmans do this' or 'the Rebmans think that', you're automatically wrong. You've got to think of them as Amber's court without Princes to concentrate and funnel the ambition."
Jerod listens to Droit's response before continuing.
"Now for the sixty-four thousand dollar question. Why break into Llewella's townhouse at all? Other than a really nice stained glass mural, there's nothing there." Jerod says, stopping. "You gave that to her, didn't you?"
"I had it custom made." He seems proud of that.
"You might want to contact the artisan to see about getting another one done up." Jerod says.
His face falls.
[Jerod adds,] "So...who around here has the ambition?"
"The court brims with petty ambitions and those who would take risks for small gains. If you can't find out the who or the what independently, you'll never get there by trying to determine who might have thought they had something to gain by breaking in to your Aunt's home. Are you sure they didn't get what they wanted, whatever it was?"
"One would assume that after so many years they'd have found a way in to find what they wanted." Jerod says. "But in that case, why did I find a Triton in the building five minutes after I walked in."
"Well, " says Droit. "Either it was there when you came in, it came by at the same time by accident, or it was summoned by something you did. The second seems unlikely. Perhaps something they wanted wasn't movable. Oh, and this is probably a good place not to assume that the triton who attacked you is part of the same 'they' who ransacked the place. Perhaps it was there to prevent whoever looted the place from coming back and finishing the job."
"I've considered that." Jerod says. "I wonder sometimes how well informed they are of members of the royal house. I always figured they would mind getting a lick in or two.
"Oh, keep an eye out for a Triton who has a clipped ear." Jerod says. "If you spot one, let me know." Jerod will make sure he tells Droit which side of the Triton's head to watch for, even though the player cannot remember and doesn't want to sift his archives to find out...:)
[If Jerod is right handed, it's the Triton's left ear. If he's left handed, it's his right.]
"I shall do so, if I do spot one like that. It should be reasonably uncommon." Droit shifts in his chair. "How long do you expect your business to keep you in Rebma, Prince Jerod?"
"That depends on how long it takes to get answers to my inquiries." Jerod says. "Why do you ask?"
Droit shrugs. "My staff are anxious. They prefer to know if they should be inviting you to official functions or not."
"Assume for the moment that I here for the duration. Whatever the duration might be." Jerod says. "One must keep up appearances."
Droit nods.
And beyond that, I'm assuming there would be sufficient idle chit- chat until as such time as Jerod determines there's nothing further to be gained by remaining at which time he departs.
After departing from the embassy, Jerod returns to the palace and heads up to the Queen's secretary to drop off the documentation for Moire.
(This is one of those administrative things on Jerod's to-do list. Unless there is some pressing need, and verbal sparring with a secretary to drop off documents is not high on the priority list, I'm assuming there will be no RP for this).
The queen is unavailable, but the documents will be passed to her when she is free.
Given that Jerod was not looking for an audience, that suits him perfectly. He drops off the docs and ticks off an entry from his list of things to do before returning to his quarters.
Jerod takes his time returning to his quarters, making a slow walk through the palace corridors to become used to the bustle once more of Court. He stops intermittently as he is recognized by some to the courtiers, the more adventurous (or devious perhaps) coming forward to get re-acquainted with Rebma's wayward son and he does not disappoint them by refusing to talk to them, though beyond a polite discourse of the day's events, little else happens.
Once he has returned to his suite in the early evening, Jerod changes into a new outfit, still in his colours though more suited to travel inside the palace. As he is folding his clothes, he removes the small package he has acquired from Llewella's apartment, turning the pouch over in his hand as he pondered its power. Beyond even the magical potential the mirror possessed, Jerod knew that just the presence of the mirror had power. One had only to look about his quarters and find the lack of them to know that it had an influence on him, and he never liked outside influences - even passive ones. The presence of mirrors enforced controlled and created the necessities of secrecy amongst those who were around them.
With that thought in mind, he collects the pouch and his spear, carrying it in the cradle fashion that is the expected practice in court of those allowed to be armed in public. Then he makes his way to his mother's apartments and office to see if she is available, or if there is someone to advise him as to where she can be found.
Rilsa rises when Jerod is escorted in. She smiles when she sees him. "Hello, Jerod. It's so good to see you doing so well. How are your ribs?"
"Mostly healed, thank you mother." Jerod says, giving her a peck on the cheek. "I'm just hoping that Triton's ear doesn't heal as quickly. It would be disappointing to lose an evidence trail.
"I was wondering if I could ask you a question." he says, waiting until she takes her seat again before continuing. "Why did you never teach me to use the mirrors?"
"It's not an art normally taught to young men, and in any case your father didn't want you taught. He wanted you to be a prince of Amber." A cloud passes across Rilsa's countenance at that thought. "Why do you ask?"
"It occurs to me that I would remain at a distinct disadvantage each time I return here." Jerod says. "I wonder sometimes if this might not have been done deliberately. You were never averse to defying dad when it suited your needs or the situation in general. So the argument of being a Prince seems a bit thin. Would it not make for a stronger Prince to be well versed in different arts? Or is that something to be feared?"
"You think it was that simple? Your instincts used to be better, Jerod." Rilsa softens the rebuke with a smile.
"I could have defied your father, true, but his was not the only opinion that held sway over my decision. You carried messages to your grandmother from Random, who holds the seat your father fought and bled for. What did they say? Think on that for a moment, and then consider why that argument might not have been worth it."
"The throne that Random now sits upon will soon have little to do with Amber or the one dad tried to hold." Jerod replies. "In fifty years what remains of Amber will be like dad's tomb - a place of failed ambitions and foolishness, forgotten in a wilderness that very possibly only his son will ever return to. Random knew this when he gave me that letter. His new kingdom will have little use for those who remind of him unpleasant memories.
"As for why the argument is not worth it, that is not relevant. I was more interested in your answer, concerning who else might have had an influence which you've provided. Which brings me to my next point." Jerod says, taking the pouch from his belt and placing it on a table beside him. He does not open it.
"Rebma is now my only home. I'm trying to come to some kind of accomodation with Corwin and he's been generous in his victory, but the best that will come of that is to be another of those unpleasant reminders of old memories. You taught me never to live on the sufferance of others and playing to someone's guilt only go so far. While I might have once had influence as the son of a king and a Prince of Amber, that influence if it is still exists will soon be no more. Amber is dead. The corpse just hasn't begun rotting yet. Now I must carve out my own place...somewhere. Doing so means I will step on people's toes. Whether I do so for the best of intentions will not matter - the toes will still be stepped on. I must learn what ways lie here now and what will cause issues to arise." and he motions to the pouch. "That is likely to be an issue."
"Will you then pledge to Mother to stay in Rebma?" Rilsa asks. "She will certainly require it of you if you are to remain and become a power in the court here. She brooks no rivals nor even any truly independent powers.
"And if you do remain, what of your oath to Random? Mother will certainly ask you why she should believe your oath to her when you're forsaking another oath you made to take it."
"Because I will tell her the same thing I told Corwin when he asked me to swear an oath to him." Jerod says. "That oaths have long since lost their power to enthrall me because over the last years I have seen too much of their betrayal to know they are just words. And I will offer her the same thing I offered to Corwin. She can have an oath...or she can have trust. I prefer the latter. I'm hoping Corwin does as well for he did not pursue the topic of oath afterwards. If that is insufficient, then she may say so as is the right of any monarch. Either way, I get what I need.
"As for forsaking Random's oath, he will get the same thing that Corwin got. And given that his son is my best friend, I suspect he will believe it a bit more than others might, even given the rampant paranoia that exists within our family."
"You don't understand your grandmother very well." Rilsa shakes her head, letting her short hair move in the water a little. "Your father and I sheltered you because we'd agreed you should live in Amber. She's terribly disappointed that you weren't a daughter, you know. It took years for her to forgive me, if she ever truly did.
"But that's a subject for another time. You speak of my mother as if you're dealing from a position of strength. I don't see that you are, especially not with Llewella returning as we expect her to. Mother has foreseen it, and she is rarely wrong. You're still a man, and a young one. Your words simply won't carry as much weight as you might imagine or hope, Jerod."
"Then it is fortunate I have other places to go, is it not mother?" Jerod replies.
"Jerod," Rilsa replies sternly, "I understand that you don't like the situation, but I'm still your mother and I'd prefer it if you didn't take your boyish moods out on me."
Jerod smiles at the sterness, wondering when she would use that tone with him. "Thankfully I'm not providing you with one, mother. It would be a bit of letdown on all that training you and dad gave me.
"I merely wished to bring into perspective an apparent paradox, that I could somehow return to the kingdom to apparent high favour, yet I could not shake the feeling that it was somehow a contrivance but for what reason was not immediately clear. Your comments concerning grandmother's disappointment in my birth confirm that little has changed in that respect and that it is wisest to remain out of her view as much as possible while I seek answers to my questions. An escape route is always advisable when seeking answers that others may not like for some questions."
Jerod reaches to tap the spear at his side. "Such as this one. The one who bore this is unknown. There is not even a name to go with it. Too much is hidden, re-written for the powerful and the stupid who adjust history because the facts misplease them. Who was this that could be in the Queen's presence, yet make not the slightest ripple upon the kingdom's history, not even a name?"
"Men don't make history, Jerod; it's why I know you aren't temperamentally suited to life in Rebma."
Rilsa smiles, but it seems forced, as if she's putting a brave face on for her son.
"We both know that. It's why I'm not a threat to the Queen and she knows it too. You didn't answer my question." Jerod says. "Who did this belong too? And why give it to me?"
She smiles again, and this time it feels less forced. "That was my father's. I want you to have it because I think you'll be on your own on the surface without either your father or myself to protect you and because I'd like you to remember some of the good things about where you came from.
"You don't know much about him, do you? That's not completely unintentional. Your father and I had an arrangement and the fairest thing I could do for him and for you was to keep family history out of it. I wanted you to be able to decide what you wanted to know and come looking for it when you needed it.
"My father died when I was very young. I knew he was a war hero and had been a friend and supporter of my mother after her mother the queen died. I recall that he was very tall, and that he was fiercely protective of me."
"What was his name?" Jerod asks.
Rilsa does not let his interruption keep her from finishing what she's saying.
"There's always been quite a bit you've been shielded from, Jerod. Intentionally. But I hope you remember that there are good discoveries in the depths as well as unpleasant ones."
"It is for those reasons that I would continue to try to help." Jerod says. "If I did not have good memories of Rebma, I would not waste the effort of helping a people who I would otherwise have no connection to.
"We were shielded from Oberon's past for a long time and now it has come back to haunt us in his death. We had a visit by one from Oberon's homeland during Random's coronation. An enemy that would make even Tritons fearful. She's also a relative." Jerod says with a slight smile. "Go figure.
"Oberon was a rebel from his homeland and they plotted his kingdom's downfall from afar. One wonders how much they have succeeded. Amber was a symbol of everything that is the antithesis of what they represent. Rebma is the same as Amber to those of Chaos, though many here would probably try to disagree. Oberon's past will see Rebma the same way as they viewed Amber. A power to be subjugated, or an abomination to be dealt with. That is what we got for hiding in the kelp beds.
"How long can we afford to hide in the kelp beds mother, before Rebma's own past comes back to haunt it?"
"Why tell me how to run Rebma? Even if I agreed with you, which I don't, it's all in Mother's hands. Wounds heal better when not picked at, son.
"If you want to talk to your grandmother about my father, his name was Lucius Paulus, and he was of the Aemilii. He died when I was young."
"I'll do that." Jerod says.
She nods. "You can leave the spear with me, if you'd like."
"Is there a reason I'd want to?" Jerod asks.
"That would depend on the message you want to send," Rilsa, practical as always, says.
Last modified: 1 January 2005