The unicorn is fast and the forest is thick. Paige only sees glimpses of the beast, but she doesn't lose it. It seems only seconds later that she enters a large clearing. The unicorn cannot have had time to cross it, but she isn't visible in the clearing at all. There is a figure here, though. A woman, in a plain but well-cut white robe. Her hair curls around her face and she is bathed in the warm sunshine.
"Hello, Paige," she says.
"Great-grandmother?" she asks, stopping at the clearing's edge, almost afraid to step closer.
"I doubted I could catch you, legends in Shadow suggest that a pure heart is neccessary," Paige mumbles self-depreciatingly. "But Hannah needs you, well... Gerard does."
"Merely your cousin, cousin." The woman steps into the sunbeam (or is it a moonbeam? It's hard to tell here) and she looks like and unlike Artemis. "I am Lalal. Your children told me of you. I am their grandmother's sister."
Paige's mood shifts immediately, as does her posture, her right foot sliding backward, the foot pivoting on her heel until it's perpendicular to her left, knees bent slightly. The smile on her lips doesn't reach her eyes. It's pleasant and fell suited for court, while seemingly unconcerned for her lack of formal... or any... dress.
"I am surprised that they haven't mentioned you to me, cousin," she replies, cursing herself inwardly for her lack of caution, lack of clothes, even her lack of hair to cover herself at the moment, but she would be damned if one of the Dragon's get would get the satisfaction of seeing it.
The woman neither advances nor retreats. "I am their father's aunt, and knew them when they were being raised by their grandmother in Arcadia, when my mother brought it to your castle. Ask them of Lalal and they will remember me. I mean you and them no harm."
"As their grandmother asserts, also," Paige answers, not pausing to let herself question the passages of time. "But your mother? I am unusure of her intentions and find myself at odds with her.
"Artemis's once husband seems to believe that only extremes will deal with your mother," this seems to concern the redhead. She rubs a hand across the bare nape of her neck. "I plan to take up a role as guardian to the reality of this reflection to protect the children."
Lalal moves and the moonbeams follow her. "I, too, have people who look to me for protection, people who will be hurt in this war and who will be unmade if the Prince of Amber destroys our home. I have heard him threaten the same to my sister Calliste and I do not doubt his ability. The children of the moon are few in number, and have no role in this war. Where can I make them safe?"
"It does seem to be the question of late, doesn't it?" Paige says with much less sarcasm than she intended. "Your sister Artemis posed the same question of late."
"My apologies if I'm not familiar with your charges, you speak of the children of the moon, but they're not also known as the Moonriders, who's Marshal attended the funeral of King Oberon, and were once men and women of Altemar?"
Lalal shakes her head. "I was not at our grandfather's funeral, so I did not see them there, but none of my wards went to such a place. To them, I am a goddess, the queen of the moon, dragonborn, who marks the stations of the year and who taught them when to plant and how to build calendars. They are men and women of Arcadia--simple folk and seekers of wisdom, both. Archers and farmers and those who love the great woods at night all alike are my children. But not warriors. They do not stand well before the children of my more martial sisters."
"Are you asking a boon of me cousin?" Paige asks dispassionately. "I have agreed to speak to Xanadu's liege on behalf of your sister already, I might offer the same for yours.
"As His appointed guardian of the great wood Broceliande that lies ajoined to his kingdom, some of your charges might find a place in my service, if not as warriors to protect the people beyond, as guides and guardians of the wood itself."
Lalal looks to the sky. "As we competed for resources within the great wood, we now compete to leave it. In many ways, ours has been a long adolescence, but the moon must be new before it can again be full. I would take a boon, but am willing to bargain if I have aught you wish."
"I cannot speak with my leige's voice from this place," Paige admits. "How might I contact you once I have returned to his realm?"
She looks at Paige and smiles slightly. "Step into moonlight in the forest and speak my name and I will come to you. In truth, I will likely know when you enter the forest, as I have little else to pin my hopes on."
"Then, cousin, until we speak again," Paige offers, perhaps not as warmly as she might intend. "I should rejoin my cousin, as she is my guide here."
"My people will be less of a burden to him than some others would be. Have him consider that." With that, she nods.
Paige nods and turns to leave, wondering what the spiritual implications of chasing another woman, naked, through the woods are. Freud would've had a field day with that.
As she heads back, trying to reorient herself and find her way back to her cousin, she calls out, "Hannah!"
Hannah dunks under once more before leaving the water and wringing out her hair. Confident she can track Paige's trail, she tries to call a drying wind before putting her clothes back on.
Paige slips lightly away, into the forest. For a second, Hannah hears her, then the forest quiet returns. Hannah feels as if she is being watched, but not by a hostile spirit.
Hannah quietly dresses and smiles secretly. "It's been a long time since anyone spied on my bathing," she calls. "You can come talk to me." She turns to slowly scan the area.
A blonde girl wearing leathers and carrying a spear slides out of the bushes. She walks towards Hannah, but does not say anything.
"Hello," Hannah says politely. "I'm Ohanzee. Who are you?"
The girl doesn't speak, but she does smile. She has pointed canines, clearly suited to tearing and rending raw meat. Hannah doesn't sense her as hostile. It's possible she's mute.
There's something vaguely familiar about the girl, but Hannah can't place her.
She comes a bit closer to Hannah by the expedient of crossing the clearing partway, but does not approach Hannah directly.
Hannah smiles back, and keeps her eyes on the girl. Hannah pulls out her pipe and stuffs it with tobacco. She lights it and takes a drag, making a happy noise. This she offers by way of gesture to the girl, and adds trader sign language in the hope that might work. "Share," she signs.
The girl doesn't appear to recognize the trade sign, but she approaches a little closer, clearly curious about the smoke. She stops and sniffs after advancing a couple of steps.
Hannah draws from the pipe again, the holds it out and nods, and clear enough offer. "You can try it."
Slowly, the girl comes forward, and eventually she's close enough to snatch the pipe from Hannah's fingers. She puts the pipe to her mouth and tries to take a drag the way Hannah did, but doesn't seem to understand how to smoke, and ends up coughing.
There's a rustle, and a boy of about the same age leaps down from a tree nearby where he'd been hidden and runs to the girl's aid. Hannah had no idea the boy was there; he could easily have injured or killed her if he'd been inclined and armed.
Hannah's eyes widen at the sight of this new young one. But then she can't hide her smile at the situation. "Everything is different and on it's ear. What's a girl to do?" she asks, and shrugs at the two of them.
Hannah holds her hand back out for her pipe, motioning. "Here, here. I'll blow you smoke pictures. Maybe we can talk through pictures. You don't talk either, do you?" she asks the boy.
The boy gives her a feral smile. He's a predator from the teeth. He takes the pipe from the girl and offers it to Hannah at arm's length. Unlike the girl, he doesn't seem afraid of Hannah. Perhaps he thinks Hannah should be afraid of him.
The boy and girl have a very strong resemblance to each other.
Hannah smiles right back at him the same way, and calmly takes back her pipe. "Twins?" Hannah takes a drag off her pipe and tries for a smoking picture of a woman, splitting as it dissolves into two matching smaller children.
The smoke figure is amazingly accurate to Hannah's vision of it; perhaps that's a function of Hannah's abilities in the spirit realm. It fascinates the twins. The girl grasps the boy's arm and points at the pictures. He shrugs her off and looks expectantly at Hannah.
"Do you want the pipe so you can try it, or do you want a show?" she laughs. She shakes her head, and draws again. This time, she blows a boy and a girl moving through the woods.
The girl has come much closer at this point, and Hannah can see that she's basically fit, although she's led a rough life. Her hands and feet are well calloused.
She starts to reach out, when she's interrupted by a call from the nearby forest. "Hannah!", cries Paige.
The girl snatches her hand back. The boy grabs her hand and pulls her away. As he runs past Hannah, he reaches out and grabs the smoke figures. The two are soon at the edge of the clearing, laughing as they run.
Hannah laughs and shakes her head at them. "Another time," Hannah calls after them, and then turns to look for Paige. She draws happily off her pipe, just for the sheer enjoyment of the smoke filling her lungs.
Paige comes from the other side of the clearing, her hand rubbing at the nape of her neck in thought. She smiles when she sees Hannah and then the pipe's bluish smoke rising to the sky.
"Sorry, false alarm," she explains. "Might spawn some idle speculation on our heritage eventually, but for now just another Arcadian asking shelter in Xanadu's kingswood."
"It was a unicorn then? Just not the one you thought?" Hannah asks, and offers Paige the pipe with a shrug. "I met some younger ones myself. Twins, I think. They didn't talk, though."
Paige looks curious, but doesn't dig. "Oh, mine did. Seems she's one of my twins' great-aunts. Her people, the children of the moon, are also looking to escape the devistation that Julian seems determined to rain down upon Arcadia."
Hannah just shakes her head. "Your in-laws make my in-laws seem like a piece of cake. I want to hear this story about Arcadia and Julian, but I think we should head back. I'm nervous about how long we've been here. May be five minutes back home, may be five days - hopefully not..."
Paige nods in agreement, gathering her clothes and satchel. "I hope to find Random's Trump in my hand or perhaps at the cliff's edge, y'know."
"Because I wouldn't enjoy explaining that one, no. But perhaps we could distract him with stories of..." Hannah waves her hand toward Paige's nakedness.
"Either he's not interested in his son's castoffs or he's a wonderful poker face," she chuckles.
"Oh, that doesn't mean he's not distractable. And y'know what - I don't consider myself my ex-husband's castoffs. I don't understand why you persist in this thinking. Sometimes things just don't work out," Hannah insists, cleaning out her pipe. "Being bitter about it won't help you any." There is some air of experience to that last.
Paige is about to argue the bitter characterization and then realises her tone would only strengthen Hannah's arguement. She nods with an abashed smile.
"We'll have to do it again sometime, Paige, when the Arcadians are all settled," Hannah suggests.
"Agreed, and once I've understood what bargains I've made here today, or yesterday, or however long we've been gone."
"Well, yeah, that too." Hannah waits for Paige to finish dressing, and takes her hands. "We should be able to emerge from here."
"I know time and space are different here, but the correspondences seem important. We entered from the clearing, but..." She stops herself before dragging them both down into a casual metaphysical discussion. "Forget it. Another time. I miss the children, and it's likely to get worse with my trip to Amber, so... Yes, let's head home."
Hannah takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes. "Think of your body, and what it feels like to be inside it. The blood moving... cells breathing... the weight of your hands..."
Hannah focuses on moving her mind back into her body.
Paige takes a deep breath and focuses, imagining herself a whisp of smoke, gaining weight with each breath, settling deeper into her skin. The same sort of centering she uses when casting the Fortunes.
Each woman thinks of her body, and how it is to be in it. Paige, lies down, followed by Hannah. A cool breeze across the basin blows across the cousins. Above the clearing, it looks like rain may be coming in from the north.
Paige doesn't mind the rain and welcomes it and the calm it offers, content to be here, now in this moment.
Hannah reaches to find the difference between the breeze here and the calm of the shelter her body is in, and then experience it.
The subtle differences that tell Hannah she is no longer spirit walking are there, although muted by the nature of the great forest. Each woman lies in at the threshold between waking and sleeping, ready to return to the world.
Hannah sits slowly, still listening to what her body has to say. Moving too quickly if it has been days would be dangerous. She reaches a hand out to Paige, laying it on her arm. "Slowly, Paige," she tries to speak.
Paige doesn't move save to touch her fingers to each other, starting at the extremities. If she doesn't feel a Trump about her, she'll open her eyes and and try to take in her surroundings, figuring her way to Tir's stairs so she might find Father's Trump of the King, all without moving. "Sure is going to shock Van that we're not in the lodge."
"We're not?" Hannah says, surprised. She blinks and looks around.
[OOC: the images that you were elsewhere were part of the late-stage lucid dreaming, and are fading...]
The image of the basin and the openness and the feel of the breeze give way to the reality of the lean-to Hannah and Paige built: branches and blankets.
Hannah notices that this reality is more like the spirit world than the land she grew up in. The line is less distinct here. The difference is a clear as that between the Omaha lands and the Eastern Cities.
"Oh, I suppose we are," Paige chuckles, her voice seeming hoarse from lack of use, making her wonder how long she had been here, or if it were just the dry fire and lack of water. She rolls to her side instead of trying to sit up, looking for the Trump.
"This place is so different," Hannah whispers, with quite a bit of awe in her voice. "I think it's good." She runs her hand over the fern next to her, half broken from her presence. She bends and quietly says to it in her native tongue, "Life to death to life, forgive my intrusion."
Hannah closes her eyes and stretches before she attempts standing.
"Van," Paige calls. "Water please?"
Van steps in a moment later, holding a waterskin. He looks none the worse for wear and unconcerned about the time that's passed. He hands the skin to Paige. "Lady Hannah, shall I get one for you as well?"
Paige takes small sips and sits up, blinking at the light.
"Yes, please. Van, how much time has passed?" [Hannah] asks anxiously.
Van hands Hannah a second waterskin. "Most of the day, Lady Hannah."
Paige searches about herself and the lodge for a loose Trump of the King and if she fails to find it lying about, looks to her satchel and her own wrapped cards.
She doesn't find the card on the ground, nor is it in her satchel.
Hannah looks at the remains of the fire, and dismantles anything left of it with a clean stick. She reaches up and tugs on the blankets covering the structure until they come loose and let in more light.
"Then I have little time to waste if I'm still to have light to see if the card Troublemaker passed is lying near the steps," she says, getting her feet under herself carefully.
"Would you like us to go with you? I'd feel better if you stood up and made sure you weren't dizzy before you answer that," Doctor Hannah adds.
Paige smiles. "Dizzy or not, I'd appreciate you two accompanying me, but leaving that card lying about someplace where others have been, well... Somehow it'll be my fault that they're trying to do to the father what they failed to do to the son, or something like that." She stands slowly and hands the waterskin back to Van.
Hannah nods. "Alrighty, then." She stands slowly herself, hops in place a few times, stretches again, and then takes the blanket, folds it over, and rolls it.
Hannah ties the blanket back to her pack and gets ready to go.
Van takes the skins back and attaches them to his belt.
The path to the three stones is clear, and they are where they should be. As Paige and Hannah and Van approach, Van points to the sky, where a white blob appears in the moonlight. Frustratingly, the stairs are not moonlit: a cloud shadow occludes them.
The card is not visible on or near the steps.
Hannah looks for tracks and tries to determine if anyone was here today.
Animals, of the four-legged variety. No people that you can detect, until you all came. Van seems quite good at not leaving tracks.
"This is where we were, when we called him, wasn't it?" Paige asks Hannah, concerned for the loss of the card.
"I think so," Hannah says, "but again, where we were there might not have anything to do with where we are here. We should probably go tell Random we lost him in the woods."
"Not true," Paige argues lightly. "He evaporated into the ether between his Realm and the Spirit."
She looks back in the direction of the Castle. "We best start back before we have no light at all, especially since I'm likely going to have to spend the next day replacing that card for my Father, somehow around trying to carry those petitions to the King. I suppose maybe he'll sit for me and we could talk then."
"Sounds sensible," Hannah smiles. She heads back toward the castle. "Van, you're a woodsman? Do you track?" she asks.
Van nods. "I'm an Altamarean Knight. We pride ourselves on our hunting, Lady. " He looks to the sky. "Sunset and clouds soon, though. A fast animal or one that hasn't been here recently will likely not be tracked this e'en."
Paige looks to her cousin. "Your call," she says. "If I can't survive a night in the wood, then I've made some poor career choices recently."
Van looks to Hannah. "Not survival, my Lady. It's more difficult to track magical creatures by moonlight." He looks back at the clouds. "Or by no-moonlight."
Hannah smiles at Van. "How many magical creatures have you tracked?"
Van smiles back. "Altamar has many such. They're more of a challenge. Any creature is, when you don't know the limits of it."
Hannah nods and bites her lip on a smile that has turned knowing.
While she waits, a thought strikes her and she reaches into her own satchel, withdraws the silk wrapped deck and thumbs through it looking for the card. If intent informs action in the spirit world, perhaps...
The Random card is not present.
Hannah watches Paige, and says, "We should head back, I think. We can split the pain, if you'd like. I can tell your father and you tell Random, or vice-versa."
Paige shrugs. "Troublemaker knew it was an experiment as much as anything. It'll just be a matter of finding the time to replace it. Since Random put down roots it seems... easier. Like there's something solid beneath the paper again."
"I'm glad to hear that. Well, I'll let you deal with the men, if you like. I should check in on my patients." Hannah resettles the pack on her shoulder for the walk back.
The trip back is uneventful, and the city and castle are as gorgeous under the moonlight as they are during the day.
Paige knocks before cracking the door to her uncle's office. "I've requests from both the Queen of Arcadia and one of her sisters to lay at your feet if you've the time for it," she began.
She approaches his desk (drumset/bar/wherever) and finds an appropriate seat. "Beyond that, I fear I need to impose on more of your time for a Trump sitting, as my father recently lost his copy of your card, but I doubt it's anywhere it can cause problems, well, anymore than Dworkin's subconscious already does. Still, I'm sure he's going to want one returned."
Random stands up, whatever fiddly adjustment he was doing to the drum finished for now. A few hits with the drumstick sound no different to Paige, yet Random smiles a satisfied smile. "Damned careless of your father, I must say. Can you lay requests and paint at the same time?"
The recently bobbed redhead withdraws her sketchbook and charcoals, finding a new page for her studies of the King. The first lines are similar to ones she's sketched a thousand times before. Too similar to be of any use she begins again, biting her bottom lip for a long moment until she's centered on the drawing.
Random is seated on a drum throne. Directly behind him a cymbal rises on a stand, appearing as a brass halo behind his head.
"In a spirit walk in Broceliande, Hannah and I encountered Artemis in her guise as a bear. As I'm convinced that Julian plans to kill the Dragon, she's convinced that her mother is Arcadia and few tied to it will survive her. Those that do, such as the twins, will accomplish it by not being there when it happens. Most of her people have nowhere to go and hostile forces of her sisters' and Julian's between them and safety. She claims they would they swear loyalty to you if I can offer a path to safety.
"Her sister Lalal, stands as the queen of the moon to her own simple folk and seekers of wisdom, archers, farmers, and those who love the great woods at night all alike are my children. I suggested that their familiarity with the Great Wood might be of use to me, and that I might forward her cause as well." She smudges the line of Random's brow, softening it before looking up again.
"Are there any advantages to bringing the--- hang on." Random's eyes focus on an unknown distance, and he speaks into space. "What about my majuncle?" he asks.
Paige doesn't interrupt, but a small study of Random's thousand yard stare appears in the margin before she returns to sketching the set of his shoulders. She quirks her lips at the odd word, but keeps her peace.
Random speaks, moving as little as possible. He's a very easy to paint model, as if he knows which part of the painting Paige is working on and focuses on that.
"I'm with your sister and she's painting, so I've got free time, as long as I don't need to come though. So, tell me the bad news first. Unless the punch-line requires telling me the good news first."
"Unicorn forbid someone might spoil the joke," Paige chuckles, none the less taking advantage of the Random's posing skills, still determined that there won't be any cymbalic or symbolic halos in the final composition.
"At your convenience, you may tell my brother that I miss him dreadfully and would be thankful of his company when he has time, perhaps the one resource we're all lacking," she offers.
Random's face doesn't move as he poses for the trump. "Holy Ancient Etruscan snoods, that is bad news! Remind me why that's bad news, again. Oh, and Paige says 'you never write, you never call...'"
Remarkably happy with the preliminary sketches already, Paige produces a pasteboard and jar of fixative, prepping it and letting it sit while she goes back to trying to find the right composition to support the king. "Etruscan snoods?" she chuckles.
Random nods. "I always forget that your sister used to live in Flora's shadow. It it was a kind of headgear from an ancient culture there. Priceless, or so they say."
"I got the reference," she says to no one in particular, smudging another line, this representing the corner of the King's mouth. He didn't seem regal, not yet, but more respectable than her Father's stories had ever painted him.
Random pauses for a moment, then continues.
"Right, I'll tell her that she has your trump, so she's tagged to call you, not the other way around."
Paige chuckles, checking how tacky the pasteboard still is. "Of course, it's always the woman's fault."
Random swallows. "Ok. Strike at what, how, when, and why do you think so? I'd like a less nebulous warning. You're not Brand, you know..."
For the first time, she seems to take actual notice of the conversation, but doesn't interrupt.
Random nods a number of times. "OK, so can you find out more? More 'they are' less 'expectin' and 'thinkin' would be better."
There's a pause during which Edan presumably says something to Random.
Random cracks his neck. "You certainly set yourself an ambitious schedule, don't you? OK, go forth and scout for us, we'll take care of the 'Reeling, Writhing, and Fainting in Coils Department, Moonrider Attack Division.
"How long should I wait before I start wondering you need looking in on?"
Paige shows a little concern, but is already focusing on the new sketch on the pasteboard.
"Wish it? Yes. Require it? No. Tell me, Edan, what you think the advantages, disadvantages and practical results of the exchange of oaths is. I am curious as to how it looks to one of your generation."
Random clears his throat. "Paige, this may take a while. Why don't you join us and offer your opinions as well?"
"This will take a while," indicating the Trump, but sets her supplies aside for the moment and approaches her uncle, setting a hand gently atop his. She opens herself to the connection, almost feeling the energy flow between their skin, trusting Random as she had... does... his son and almost naively she already does her brother.
Once he has the Trump for the King of Xanadu, Edan moves a little off so that his conversation won't interrupt the others. He stares curiously at the flame of the brazier next to him, then turns his attention to the card.
Think... concentrate... visualize... the picture is of Random in courtly Renaissance garb, and Edan finds it hard to reconcile the image with the man he spoke to on the sloped roof of the castle... "Your Maj... Uncle? It is Edan."
Random stands very still, his back to a large cymbal. "What about my majuncle?" he asks.
"A thousand apologies, my uncle," Edan says. "I am still unused to the, ah, informality... I have good news and bad news to give you."
"I'm with your sister and she's painting, so I've got free time, as long as I don't need to come though. So, tell me the bad news first. Unless the punch-line requires telling me the good news first."
Edan smiles and shakes his head. "Am I so obvious? I was going to say that your pose, there, it is very good. Very regal. I appreciate the cymbalism."
He shifts, a little. "The bad news... I am just on your side of the tree Ygg, where I rode in a Race to Madness. During the race, I met the daughter of the High Marshall of Ghenesh..."
Random's face doesn't move as he poses for the trump. "Holy Ancient Etruscan snoods, that is bad news! Remind me why that's bad news, again. Oh, and Paige says 'you never write, you never call...'"
Edan is busy thinking; he has a confused look on his face, but it clears up after a few seconds. "Etrus... ah, it is like being royally pissed, yes?"
Random nods. "I always forget that your sister used to live in Flora's shadow. It it was a kind of headgear from an ancient culture there. Priceless, or so they say."
[Edan] smiles, suddenly on a different subject, and says, "I do not have a Trump of Paige, but she may have a Sketch or a Trump of me by now. I will return to Xanadu as soon as I can, but she is always welcome to contact me. Sooner better than later, I think; I do not know the effects of Clarissa on Trump, and I have learned the hard way that a Sending is not the perfect method of contact." He shakes his head.
"Right, I'll tell her that she has your trump, so she's tagged to call you, not the other way around."
"As for the other, it is bad news. The girl, Chases-in-Madness, she was running a similar race from the other side of the Tree, to gain a prize for her people..." Edan sums up the previous conversation, adding at the end, "I think the Moonriders will strike sooner rather than later.... there have been many guesses here, but I will have the chance to search for fire-lillies if they exist on the Chaos side. The warning needed to be given."
Random swallows. "Ok. Strike at what, how, when, and why do you think so? I'd like a less nebulous warning. You're not Brand, you know..."
Edan spreads his hands until he realizes how useless that is with Trump. "If I had conclusive proof of armies on the march, I would feel more confident in the warning," he says. "I think the Gheneshi will ride for Tir, until they realize it cannot be reached from Amber. Then, they will continue to try and reach Tir, or they will expend their wrath wherever they are thwarted. Perhaps that would be Amber. Tir-na Nog'th is their ancestral home, Father said. And there is the matter of wounded pride, that the Marshall was stopped there before." Edan pauses to take a breath. "If the girl is any indication, I expect swordsmen on horseback. I do not know what they employed before. And when? If these suppositions are true, once they have what they want, why wait to strike? We would be less prepared if it were sooner."
Random nods throughout. "OK, so can you find out more? More 'they are' less 'expectin' and 'thinkin' would be better."
Edan nods, smiles, says, "I can indeed, your Majuncle. It coincides nicely with trips to Chaos and experiments with firelilly trails."
Random cracks his neck. "You certainly set yourself an ambitious schedule, don't you? OK, go forth and scout for us, we'll take care of the 'Reeling, Writhing, and Fainting in Coils Department, Moonrider Attack Division.
"How long should I wait before I start wondering you need looking in on?"
Edan looks startled; then, he looks nonplussed, as if he's had entirely too many shocks in the last few hours. "I am not... I am not used to having others look after my well-being," he says. "Ah... time is subjective, especially where I am going... on this side, of course, one can estimate time differential based on the Integrals of Similarity between... er, never mind. How about checking once a week, or so? I miss my newfound sister, and that will give us some time together."
He pauses a moment. "I have vows to my father... I have ties to the Seven Tribes of the Dar-es-Salaam. I have already asked my father that I intend to fight alongside him, should he need to defend Amber. And now, you all are looking after me. Do you wish my oath to the Crown?"
"Wish it? Yes. Require it? No. Tell me, Edan, what you think the advantages, disadvantages and practical results of the exchange of oaths is. I am curious as to how it looks to one of your generation."
Random clears his throat and holds out a hand to the painter. "Paige, this may take a while. Why don't you join us and offer your opinions as well?"
Paige feels a sensation that she can only liken to being hooked up to a firehose. There's lots of energy flowing.
Edan smiles when he sees his sister; his easy grin is a flash of white teeth in a face somewhat darker than she remembers. He looks different; his hair is longer, he's wearing silk clothes in his colors of white and crimson, and his golden eyes fairly glow in the nearby firelight. All in all, he looks a lot more like the picture she wanted when she did the sketch... other than the look of exhaustion, of course. "My sister," he says, with a bow of his head.
Paige returns the smile brightly, but doesn't interrupt.
Turning his attention back to Random, he says, "Well, the advantages are obvious. Things are much different with us than I expected. I do not see unending struggles between powerful, immortal beings within the family. I see new, unknown threats emerging from without. The younger generation, especially, does not have the experience... or the jaded views... of our parents. There is strength in numbers, in our bonding together. We will unite, or we will fall." The smile fades a bit, and he inclines his head. "We all have different, unique skills to offer. I know that I do. I know that you would find more advantage with my direct allegiance than for me to be separate. And I could do far worse than to ally myself with the Power of Order."
Random nods. "I think I'm lucky that my reign is starting out with so much threatening us, because it keeps us from threatening each other, much. That's what the oath is about, too. I wonder if that's what it was like when Corwin and Eric were young?"
"From what Father told me, I gather they would not let something so trivial as a universal threat interfere with their rivalry..." Edan says.
Random smiles. "Anyway, you're technically bound by your father's oath, as his vassal, but in practical terms it would be better for you to have me as your direct ally. Do you wish to accept my bargain? Paige can tell you that it's not that burdensome so far."
She chuckles. "So far... so far as I've just talked myself in a role as warden to a forest brimming with Arcadians and need to replace missing Trumps before I can return to Amber to recruit men to help me defend the borders from all the local aforementioned threats.
"But if I'm following the gist of the conversation, brother, such a bridle as the King might fit for you is comfortable enough, and he's yet to give me the bit."
Edan blinks in suprise. "Only Warden... only Warden to the forest outside Xanadu, yes? And you say Arcadians are there, somehow from Arden? If the firelillies form trails, then other things might not stop just at Amber, either. I really must hurry in my purpose to find the answer to these flowers. Be... careful... for me... my sister. "
Her smile promises that she will.
He glances back to Random. "The indirect oath, yes, that was my thinking. I would wish a more direct one. Which brings us to to the disadvantages and the practicalities... those here from the Land of Peace do not see me in a good light, not at all. They will think you have taken Shaitan into your midst. I also do not wish to be foresworn from my other oaths and alliances, though a wise cousin reminded me that if such a thing came up, I could look to the common man as a guide for my conscience. I imagine that from a practical standpoint, a following would develop within Amber and Xanadu to curry my favor- Paige and I are once-removed, and somewhat filtered, from the actions and old alliances of our father."
Edan's head inclines a bit. "You may not see any of that as a problem. I certainly see an exchange of oaths as a great advantage."
Random nods. "I am no fool, no matter what anyone says. If you ask me to choose Edan or all of the Land of Peace, I know what I value." Random taps the side of his nose.
"So, now? Paige can witness. Do you need me to tell you the form?"
"Don't change the words though," Paige suggests. "He may not say it, but it gets under his skin." Her tone is light and humorous.
Random shrugs. "I'm an easy going monarch, really. Dad would've dealt much more harshly with a child who publicly defied him like that."
"Ahh... perhaps I should hear the form, then, please," Edan says, with a slight smile.
Random smiles. "It's a thing of beauty, really. I think Dad used it because he could remember it. It's got a you part and a me part." Random clears his throat. "'I, State-Your-Name, do swear that I will be faithful to you and bear you true allegiance, obeying your commands from this hour forward until my death or until the world ends.' Got it?" He waits for some acknowledgement from Edan.
Edan looks for a moment like he's digesting each word, but he nods. "It is good," he declares.
"Then I say 'I, Random the King, hear your oath, and shall remember. And I do swear that I will defend you and yours from every creature, with all my power, until your death or the world ends. ' Then we have ice cream and punch, and I think there are pony rides. I'm a bit hazy on the end of the ceremony."
"I'd say so, or else someone owes me pony rides," Paige laughs. She looks at her brother expectantly. "No time like the present," she suggests.
Random opens his mouth to speak, and apparently thinks better of it. He looks remarkably like Martin when he does so.
Edan nods again, and pitches his voice so that the others behind him can hear his words, if they wish.
"I, Edan ibn Bleys ibn Oberon al-Kehribar al-Salaam al-Djinn-al-Ghanii... Sultan of the Seven Tribes," he hesitates, "daughter's son and Chosen of al-Asaj, Padishah of the City of Brass and Sorrow... heir to Ofallion... man of the desert... do swear that I will be faithful to you and bear you true allegiance, obeying your commands from this hour forward, until my death or until the world ends."
"I, Random the King, hear your oath and shall remember. And I do swear that I will defend you and yours from every creature, with all my power, until your death or the world ends.
"There we go," says Random. "Nothing has changed, and yet things are different. When you're here and not dealing with Flowers, Moonriders, or your grandmother, you can ask Gilt for mundane stuff, like ships, sealing wax, or cabbages. Kings you'll still have to talk to me about. Welcome to the band."
"It is good," Edan repeats, and bows his head as he touches fingertips to his lips, then forehead, then outward. "I shall no doubt squander my newfound amity on free guitar and voice lessons. And a decent guitar, too. Yes." He frowns, then, slightly. "I am afraid that I do not enjoy cabbage..."
"If I ever finish this work on the King's Trump, I'll see what I might do about working up one of you for his use," Paige offers Edan.
"Fair enough," says Random. "No cabbage. " Random cocks his head to the side and smiles, although it's not clear exactly why. "Anything else, my new vassal?" He seems suddenly in a hurry.
In a rare moment of clarity, Edan catches the hint. He smiles again to Paige, says, "No... nothing at the moment. I will see you both soon as I can. Peace be with you, my uncle, my sister. I will speak to you as soon as I can."
Paige winks, but doesn't release her uncle's hand until Edan's image fades.
He passes his hand over the card, and turns to give it back to Martin.
Last modified: 22 March 2008