Research and Recovery


As he puts away the trump, Jerod winces again. The ribs are definitely not happy this day as he breathes slowly, thinking for a moment that it would have been wiser to have accepted the trip to Paris.

Wiser maybe, but not acceptable, Jerod thinks. Running isn't an option, not yet. Especially not after this.

He makes his way out of the townhouse, getting his bearings for a moment before selecting a route back to the castle. He deliberately avoids the main thoroughfare, not wanting the crush of the crowd during the late afternoon hours. There will be enough attention once he hits the palace and he'll need his strength, and his anger, for that. Better if he doesn't run into too many people before then.

And better too if he's not noticed too early, he thinks to himself, pausing at a corner to watch a few locals pass by, leaning carefully against a fragile building corner in the shadow to catch his breath. A reception committee at the gates would not be acceptable. He watches as the street clears a bit, taking a moment to tighten the clothing to its last stitch before heading off.

Too sanitized, Jerod thinks as he makes his way upwards towards the castle, the greens and blues of day shimmering around him. For all the intrigues of Court, things were too sanitized, too quiet, too clean. Even the attack, he thought. Too clean. Dumping him in a building down the street. Cleaning up the glass. Everything neat and clean. Easy to forget about. Almost an invitation.

He smiles mirthlessly, noting the glances as the commoners recognized his clothing. A surfacer for sure, but he walks too smoothly. And the clothes are too high in quality. Something's not right they'll know, and that's even before they figure out the injuries. He smiles again, then winces. Now it begins.

He stops for a moment as he comes to a circular roadway connecting the outward road spokes leading away from the castle, noting its position. The main avenue was ahead and he stopped, thinking.

An invitation, that's what the Triton's master had offered him. Keep things quiet, don't disturb the peace. We could have killed you but we didn't. Think on our generosity and walk away.

Jerod smiles once more, but there is no mirth to his thoughts. Kill me and my curse be upon you, my hidden one. He remembered the screaming rage of his uncle Corwin when his eyes were taken and shivered even with the memory of the words, their power long since used up. That was his legacy as well, his final stroke against his foe. A terrible power but he knew he would use it. Even in his death, they would not profit.

He pulls himself up from a stoop he had developed, favoring the left side a bit. The people had begun to notice. Now was the time, he could not hesitate any more. Now was the time he knew, as he stepped out and forward, onto the main avenue towards the castle. He was committed.

Who was involved, he wondered, keeping his gaze steady and forward as he made his way closer, the first of the courtiers stopping short with recognition as they made their way outwards from the castle with the day ended. The first stone is dropped into the pond and the waves begin to ripple.

The Queen perhaps? Not likely, he thought. Violence was too blunt, too stupid for someone who had ruled as long as she. There were better ways to keep Jerod under control and some were even pleasant. Violence was always the last resort of the failed monarch.

Family then? he thinks, continuing the steady walk, the passage of the pillar flames unconscious but remembered. Mother and sisters would also know how to blunt any investigation on his part. They knew him better than any. They might even encourage his investigations, garnering the information he retrieves to remove it or discredit it. They too were unlikely, though Jerod was careful not to totally discount them, or the Queen.

So who, he thought, watching as a sedan chair paused, noting a face leaning over to view him before ducking back, the look on Jerod's face warning enough to anyone foolish enough to get involved. Another stone, another ripple.

Someone unknown - Family maybe? he thinks. An unknown for sure. Someone hidden away in the time honoured family tradition. If so, that would explain much. They wouldn't know much about him, that was for sure. Certainly not enough to know how stupid it was to send the Triton. Now Jerod's options are limited. Before...before, Jerod could have talked to them. There would have been no animosity, no anger. Now, that was gone. Now someone had to pay for his ribs, and Jerod wouldn't take it out on a Triton. They were tools in this, even if they might be willing. He wanted the hand who wielded it.

Who directed the tool? Someone would have to know about them. Command of the Tritons was limited to a few, or so it was thought. There would be a trail somewhere. He'd just have to find it.

Or maybe not family, he wonders. Someone from the Tritons' deep dark past. No one questions where they come from, how they were bound, or even why. He knew little about them but Jerod knew enough to know they didn't come from Rebma. So where? There probably were others, and maybe the threat comes from there. There would be a trail to that too. He'd just have to find it.

As he reached the castle grounds, he knew he had been successful as he looked around. The guards recognized him but did not approach, not knowing what to do, not even daring perhaps to think of getting involved. A member of the royal family comes back, injured and bleeding, walking in through the front door. Jerod noted their expressions as he made his way inside. Some glancing, some stone-faced and expressionless. But they all had seen and he nodded to himself.

He stopped a short ways inside, noting the mirrors, many and varied, knowing the message that he was sending, and wondering if his opponent would be wise enough to recognize it. Perhaps. Perhaps not. But he looked up now at the mirrors directly, turning full circle slowly.

I decline your invitation, my friend. I decline to go quietly and make your life easy. Jerod thinks. I decline to stay quiet and let things continue as they were. Now I tell you, and Court, and Rebma, I will not stay silent and let your efforts go unnoticed. Today we join the battle, and I hope you are ready. I have made one mistake this day. I will not make another.

As he finished his circle, he knew it had worked. Now the rumors and speculations would run rampant. Word of it would stream like eels through the kelp and much of it would be muck. But the silence would be no more and from the din, the words that his foes needed to stay silent, perhaps those would be spoken at last.

With that, Jerod moved away and to his quarters, to rest and sleep, and heal. He wanted to be sure to get there before the welcoming committee did arrive. This time he knew there would be one.


Jerod awakens as his suite door is pulled to. There is a light in the outer room and he hears his mother dismissing a servant. She opens his door and sees that he isn't asleep. She wants to know what happened to Jerod and she will personally tend to his wounds. She has bandages and food with her.

Once she ascertains the nature of his wounds, (four broken ribs, three left, one right), she treats him and tells him to stay in bed. She seems disinclined to take no for an answer.

Despite mom being "Mom" and a formidable presence when she wants to be, Jerod is still a bit resistant at first. However, "Mom" and four broken ribs tend to impose themselves on anyone's reality.

In between the binding, stretching of bandages and re-binding of the ribs, Jerod provides a general outline to her of what happened - that he went to take a look at Llewella's townhouse to see what had happened concerning Conner's original investigation. He explains to her that he's more interested in figuring out if Conner is guilty of something which he doesn't think so, mostly because its better to find out the truth sooner than later and he's very sure he doesn't want a pissed off Princess Fiona defending her son's interest in Rebma if push comes to shove. Rebma doesn't have enough sorcerers to waste.

Princess Fiona would be a challenge, and a problem, but she may not be as unsurmountable as all that. Rebma is, after all, very different from her home.

Jerod hopes that it is not required that they find that out. It would be unfortunate if that occurred, and Prince Bleys was along for the ride.

He tells her about the encounter with the Triton and where he made his mistake (too soon back from the surface thinking two-dimensional. That will change). He also tells her that he's managed to hurt the Triton a bit but he doubts it's going to be around for anyone to notice. However, if she does notice one with a snipped ear, let him know who it belongs to so he can kill the person it's assigned to. Despite his father's legendary ego, the rage that smoulders inside Jerod comes a good deal in part from her as from Eric. Jerod doubts it's something she likes to see but he doesn't hide it.

He DOES NOT tell her about the safe or the trump call with Corwin, nor does he hint or allude to it in any way.

Finally, he tells her about his walk back and why he did it. He'll be very curious to hear what goes flying around the grapevine.

She'll make sure to let you know the more outlandish ones.

Beyond that, Jerod adds little about his speculations concerning who might be involved, mostly because they are speculations and she can figure out for herself what he's been considering as far as "the usual suspects". His mother will know him well enough that Triton command means everyone of his family will be a suspect in his eyes...even her. She trained him too well to ignore anyone even if they are family.

And if she has anything else she wants to ask, or add, Jerod will be attentive, in between eating. Even then however he is busy, never relaxing. She will recognize it in him, the drive to "do something" that is such a strong part of who he is. She knows that he will be a difficult patient, though when he mentions getting a sandtable and music, she realizes there is an option here that might keep him tolerable until he heals.

And then, it would appear to be "healing time".

It looks like Jerod will be doing his research by proxy, from his sickbed, for about ten days.

A separate message will go out shortly detailing this information and setting up the arrangements for discussions with the junior historian that Carina sent over to him, whom he will have attend after summoning a servant to notify her he wishes to see her.

Oh, and when he says that when he gets a chance, he's going to need another sword. That pissant Triton took his and that's really got him pissed. That was a nice sword (and it was dad's too).

[His mother] nods. Some days later a long, flat box arrives, with a ribbon around it. "Do not open until you're well! Love, Mother."

Jerod will take hold of the box and wait exactly one day before opening it. He suspects that his definition of well is much different from his mother's, so he will take the average of the two, then throw it out and go for one day later...:)

Inside the box, laying on a cushion is a long spear. It is extremely well made, created of some sort of ivory, bone, or horn with a combination of inlays and carvings. There's a note in your mother's handwriting. "This was your grandfather's."

Jerod smiles, wondering when the Rebman influence of weapons was going to exert itself. Nonetheless, he is as capable with this weapon as any other and it serves equally well here. It also looks a bit more elegant when walking around. One can never be too careful where appearance is concerned.

Jerod recalls a moment from his childhood--a company of soldiers marching in formation, spears all at the same height and angle, the spearpoints gleaming in the light from the fireglobes. He does not immediately recall if it was a memorial or a commemoration of a victory. It could have been either or both.

He picks it up to examine it further, getting the weight and balance of it as he makes a number of practice moves, slashes, thrusts and punches.

A spear is the best handheld weapon for underwater combat. This one feels good in Jerod's hands, and brings back memories of combat training before he left Rebma. The huge cost of the slash, for so little gain, but still a back-pocket maneuver useful to someone with the strength of a son of Eric. The forward and back technique that depended on the spear sliding through the water. His classmates were probably not the first to compare spearplay to making love, probably not the first by many generations.

As a side comment, what is the note written on? And how was it written? One normally does not expect written materials underwater...:)

[Yeah, they don't last long. But they're great for notes, and they allow the GMs to pass small parcels of information without a huge amount of investment. "It's an unremarkable note. Further investigation shows that it is remarkably unremarkable."]


On the second day of his enforced convalescence, Jerod sends a message to the historian Varinia saying that he would like to see her shortly after Seiche. He also makes arrangements to have refreshments available when she arrives.

Assuming she arrives on time, she will find Jerod scribbling at the fine stiff sand of a sandtable, an intense look on his face as he plots out a piece of music. When he recognizes her approach, he looks up briefly before wiping clean the table's scribble, the look on his face vanishing as his hand moves to erase the composition.

Following a brief period of social niceties in which Jerod inquires into how she came to be at the archives, and he assesses how much detail of information she might be able to provide, Jerod moves into a more detailed recitation as to the information he requires as well as the level of discretion he expects to be had in conveying this information back to him.

1) Khela, Celina and Khrop. Jerod does not know of Khela's background, but he does know that she was involved with Celina, that Celina was kept in the Seaward with Khrop being involved and that the Queen at the moment does not seem to lean favorably towards them. He wants to know more about all of them.

This information is reported directly to Jerod by Varinia.

Khela was a scholar from a shell that specialized in such. Celina's mother was from the Shell of Narhval. It wasn't until she was at a boarding school that she fell into bad influences. Moire took her under her wing, most thought as a favor to her late mother, who had in the past been a supporter and friend of the Queen. There was some story about a scholarship, but it seemed to be a graceful cover story.

No one knows why Khrop is not favored at court, but that is how the tides ebb. One season a Shell can be favored, the next it is not. Perhaps some with influence in court disliked how Khrop seemed favored by the placement of one of their young students as the Queen's ward. Or perhaps they overreached on the basis of the advantage they considered themselves to have via the girl.

2) A general history of Moins and her reign, with as much detail on her dealings with the Tritons and the intervening period following her death where Moire came to power.

This information is reported to Jerod by a variety of under-archivists who all work for Carina (although the exact position of any woman in the pecking order of archivists at any time is difficult to determine and likely to change).

Moins ruled long and gloriously and the Tritons served her well and she was a friend to Amber and created the first golden age of trade and growth for Rebma. She set the patterns that are used today. After her untimely death there was a decades-long interregnum where Rebma was ruled by a council. After a time, it was determined that Moire should be queen, and she was enthroned. Rebma flourished again, and the second golden age started in her reign.

This matches what Jerod knows from Martin's public discussions of it in the early days of the Regency Council. There are more details, generally about who was on the regency council, but nothing of great import.

What of how the Triton came to serve Moins and where did they come from?

Varinia gives Jerod a brief answer that doesn't require any research on her part.

There are legends and myths. Some say the Tritons were here before Rebma and joined in the glorious efforts. Others say that Moins interceded for them with Lir, who would have destroyed them for some unspeakable act. There was even once a cult worshipped them as the reincarnated souls of dead heroes. But there's nothing that anyone in the archives considers a valid historical record, probably because the Tritons were already in service to Moire when the archives were founded.

Jerod will answer any questions that Varinia has concerning specific parameters about the questions, to help define any searches she has to make though he will be careful not to give anyway any personal information that reveals future intentions. And just before she departs, he will thank her for her time and diligence and mentions that he will be sure to make a note of her considerable efforts to her superiors.


Rumor travels quickly in the palace of Rebma, and while Vere is a stranger and few would speak to him of such things, very few of the servants or courtiers realize what a good sense of hearing he has, and just how attractive he finds furtive whispered conversations in corners. News of Jerod's return to the palace reaches him soon after the Duke is confined to his bed, and he quickly composes a message and requests a servant to see that it is delivered.

Cousin,

I have heard that you are unwell. I trust that it is nothing too serious, and that, as the surface philosopher says, it will make you stronger in the end. Please inform me of the earliest opportunity at which I might visit your sickbed to convey my sympathy in person. It is said that company, in small doses, can be a restorative.

Vere, Prince Royal of the Isles, Lord of Amber

A return messenger arrives to deliver the message, since of course letters don't really work well in Rebma. The messenger appears a bit mystified as to the content of the message they are repeating though no doubt they will be used to receiving cryptic instructions to be repeated verbatim.

Cousin...

In regards to our surface philosopher, I always wondered if Neitzsche was a member of the family. No doubt he would have something to say concerning this.

[Jerod provides a time that is suitable for his schedule, which has been mutually agreed with the GMs to be approximately five days from the time Jerod returns. He advises Vere to focus on his efforts to ensure his troop are ready to go before seeing him.]

Jerod.

Vere nods when he receives the message, and thanks the messenger. At the appointed time five days later he will arrive at Jerod's room.

Carina is in the suite with Jerod and they are playing music. She will depart once Vere arrives.

Vere nods to her as she leaves, and murmurs, "Archivist." After she has left he looks at Jerod. "I hope I did not interrupt?" He lets his eyes travel over the room then, checking to be certain that there are no mirrored surfaces anywhere.

"Not at all." Jerod replies, putting the instrument he was using aside. Vere will note that are no mirrored surfaces anywhere. Jerod doesn't allow them and he'll break them or disrupt them when he finds them.

"How goes the troop search? I trust you have found all that you need?"

Vere nods. "I have the luxury of choice. There were more applicants than I was authorized to accept. We might go over the officers together when you have leisure, to see if you know anything about any of them of which I should be made aware, but I am fairly confidant that I will be ready to leave within the next few days." He tilts his head to one side and observes Jerod carefully. "Do you think you might need my assistance for something? You have clearly drawn unfavourable attention." He smiles slightly. "When I see you lying in bed after a battle I wonder what enemy of yours is missing a dozen warriors."

Jerod smiles. "The enemy is missing a chunk of his ear. I will use that to identify the brains behind the brawn when I begin my search again. As I believe I said previously...Tritons are not to be trifled with.

"I made a classic surfacer mistake of not watching above as much as I should have. That and I believe they were waiting for me. It is a mistake that will not be repeated the next time I face them.

"If you wish, we can go over your officer listing. I'm not sure how much I can help with it but it will be good to pass the time. And it might give me a few more voices to listen to now that the ripples have begun to travel through Court. I will be here for at least a few more days." Jerod says, though he does get up from where he has been sitting to move around a little. He is somewhat stiff from his injuries but he still rails against them, pushing his limits whenever the opportunity presents itself.

"Tritons." Vere says. "Interesting." He pauses a moment, then says, "I could not help but notice a certain agitation among the tritons during court."

"Oh?" Jerod asks. "How so? And at what time?"

"It was during the Queen's judgement upon the matter involving the Shell of Khrop. In particular, those tritons in attendance upon the queen and the women of the royal family. I had already noted that they were paying a certain special, albeit subtle, attention to you," Vere smiles thinly, "And to a lesser extent to myself, although possibly that was due to my association with you. They were distracted somewhat from that attention, and even to a certain slight extent from their attentions on the women to who they were attending, by the discussions involving the Shell." Vere pauses thoughtfully, then concludes, "While it was subtle, I do not think the term 'agitation' is overstating the case."

"Khrop has come up on a couple of occasions recently." Jerod says. "There is someone of interest within that Shell that appears not to be on the Queen's good side. Though I find it interesting that the Tritons were agitated by the Queen's attention. I also find it interesting they were paying attention to me. It would appear my enemy is well prepared. I wonder how much of that is due to any infiltration back home.

"Could you identify the Tritons again? Or the individuals they were attending?"

Vere shakes his head slightly. "I cannot yet identify tritons with any reliability. However, there were only a small number of tritons in attendance at court on that occasion, and they were clustered together beside or behind the queen's throne. All of them shared in their reactions to the ruling on the Shell of Khrop. I do not wish to convey the impression that there was any hostility in their interest in you, I did not detect such a thing. Merely interest. It might have been nothing more than the natural interest of the royal guard in a new member of the family that they felt they would be called upon to protect."

"Or monitor." Jerod replies. "I'll have to see if I can remember who was there and find out what Tritons are in question."

He collects a drink from his collection and prepares one for Vere if he is so interested before returning to the sofa.

"I'm still wondering what's up with all that's happening. Whatever happened in Llewella's townhouse, there have been a few years to clean up the evidence. If someone was interested in keeping things quiet, sending a Triton after someone is the dumbest thing you can do."

"I would have thought that either someone would have wanted to keep things quiet by not doing anything more than immediate surveillance. Again, there's been time to cover tracks. But instead, a Triton goes after a member of the royal family. And Tritons are not dumb. They know who we are, unless this particular Triton was from out of town. Which is always possible.

"I suppose it's possible that it was following old instructions to go after anyone who goes into the building, but that would mean someone was constantly monitoring it. And that's difficult over a long period of time without someone else catching on. Surveillance teams tend to get lazy and make mistakes, get noticed. So if that's the case, then whoever is running the Triton was inexperienced, or just plain stupid.

"What else might there be?"

Vere frowns thoughtfully. "You wish me to spin theories? I can do that far too easily. In fact, I have been told that is a failing of mine, that I can become too enamoured of creating multiple possible explanations for the facts, which makes it difficult to determine what action should be taken in any particular case.

"Here are two possibilities, off the top of my head. Perhaps this was one of the tritons that attacked Conner when he was investigating the break in. It may have been instructed to stop anyone from investigating what had occurred. However, it does not agree with its master's intentions. Perhaps its master is determined to prevent any resurgence of the Libertist cause, but the triton secretly supports it. It cannot oppose its master, but when you enter Llewella's home it sees an opportunity. It can attack you, and argue to itself that it is obeying its master's will to stop anyone from investigating the break in. However, as you are a member of the royal family, it must not kill you. It can argue that it was simply following orders in everything it did, yet now you have been alerted that something is happening involving the tritons, and will investigate further, something that might not have occurred if it did not attack you.

"A second possibility. We are operating under the assumption that these tritons are operating under the control of members of the royal family, in accordance with whatever ancient pacts were made. But suppose that powerful wild tritons have come in, and seek to free their brothers? The tritons in Rebma may support them, and can argue that as long as they do not endanger the lives of the royal family, and no one thinks to ask directly if there are any tritons masquerading as members of the royal guard who are not truly bound to them, they have no need to inform anyone."

He shrugs. "I could go on. The problem is a lack of information. So far Llewella's townhouse seems to be a central point in much of what has happened. If we had any solid information about the reason for the break in we would have a better base for theorizing."

"Actually, I've made no assumption that the Tritons are operating under royal command." Jerod corrects. "While Tritons may be under royal command, Martin and I previously discussed whether that command might be faltering and that an external influence could be involved. Comments Celina made also have made me wonder. I have also speculated on the prior existence of the Tritons that no one can provide an adequate answer to. Even uncle Benedict was not forthcoming though that is not altogether unexpected. They did not originate in Rebma according to all of the oral history. So where? No one can answer. That tells me there are more.

"But I would agree that Llewella is the key. Why her place? I doubt it is the location that is important. More it is something to do with her or her past. I do not recall her being involved with the Libertist movement though I would expect if she was that it would have been discreetly. I think that it will soon be time to speak to her. A visit to Amber's embassy may be in order."

Vere nods. "Is there anything I can do to assist you?" he asks. "I know you do not wish me to become involved in Rebman politics, and I do not wish to endanger my own mission or delay my return to the Isles, but anything I can do within those parameters is yours to ask."

"I would ask whether your lady friend made a repeat appearance." Jerod says, referring to his ghost connections. "Beyond that, there is nothing more outside of having dinner. My mother promised a favorite meal on the day of my return and I have not yet claimed it. You can join us if you wish. Then we need to be seeing you on your way. Your home won't wait for you to arrive. Mine certainly didn't."

"I would enjoy that," Vere replies to the suggestion of a dinner with the princess. "As to the other, I have no new information to report. If you have any questions, or anything you wish me to convey, I am confidant I can do so."

"A pity she can't make herself available to me when you're gone." Jerod says. "However, we will do what we can."

"One thing you might do, assuming you get back to Amber to pick up your air wing. See if Martin AND Random are around. Let them know what's up here, especially Martin."

"I will do so." Vere pauses briefly, then asks delicately, "As to informing Princess Llewella...?'

"Assuming she's available, do so." Jerod says. "She already knows I have an interest in what happened to Conner. I think she knows me well enough that I'd go snooping. I get that from my mother." and he smiles.

Vere returns the smile. "Is there anything else, or should I leave you to your rest? I would not wish to risk your mother's ire by staying longer than she considers appropriate for a visit to a recovering man."

Jerod smirks. "You as the honoured guest would receive none of my mother's famous ire. She'd reserve that for me, mostly because if I hadn't been injured there would have been no reason for me to be recovering."

At this point, Jerod would see no reason to keep Vere further if he has other things to be attending to.


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Last modified: 22 September 2004