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Three visions or more in Tir-na Nog’th

     he Kolvir is beautiful from up close. As I hiked up its slopes I scorned the winding paths a horseman would have taken and walked and sometimes climbed, straight up. In return for my efforts the mountain showed me flowers, quick green lizards, beetles and the occasional breathtaking view. Those glimpses of what made life worthwhile were welcome to me because my mind was on Gran, on what he had done and what I might do. How could he have done that to me? Sleeping with Trisha -of all people- when he knew I hated her!

I had planned this exhausting hike to keep my mind off his betrayal and the fight we had, but the exercise had the opposite effect: it focused my thoughts, and most of the time the climb was easy enough to give me time to think. How could he betray me so? How?! Trisha is his ex-wife, I should not be surprised if he still has feelings for her, even if their marriage was one of convenience. But this broke the trust that was between us. And Gran had always insisted on fidelity as a proof of my love! Idiot. Damn him!

In Chaos, the occasional sexual contact can maintain a mainly political relationship, I understood that. But in Gran's case this time-honoured Chaosian custom was NOT an excuse. If he tried to explain his misbehaviour saying 'it was only politics', I was going to break his nose! Fidelity is not something you set aside when it is inconvenient; that is the whole point of loyalty. How could he! He broke an agreement that had been one of the cornerstones of our relationship from the very first day! Damn him again!

I stopped for a while to take a breather and drink a sip of water from my bottle. So: even though Gran hurt me and I was right to break off the relationship, did I want this break to be permanent? Did I want Gran back? I had to admit that I did. I still loved him, and if he loved me, just one mistake was not enough reason to throw it all away.

'Then why did I make such a scene this morning, when I found out?', I asked myself as I set out again. I had covered quite a lot of ground and estimated I would reach Kolvir's peak well before sunset. Why not just go back and forgive him?
Because he hurt me, he did me wrong and his betrayal is no little matter, a kiss and a cuddle and an 'I'm sorry' won’t do. We broke up because Gran betrayed my confidence in him, not just because he made love to another woman. There. That is what our fight was all about.

What could Gran do to win me back, I wondered, what would be enough to make me forgive him? Trisha's severed head on a silver platter would be nice, I thought with a grim smile. But that would be too much to ask. No, I would just have to wait and see. Even if I was carrying Gran's child, I was more than capable of raising it by myself. And having bastards is a time-honoured tradition in our family.

I arrived on the top of the Kolvir with a smile on my face. I had sorted myself out and made a decision: I would wait and see what Gran's excuse was and what his reasons were for betraying me. If he was suitably repentant, I might take him back.

Then a thought struck me. What if Gran would not apologise? What if he thought he was in the right and was waiting for me to come back to him? He had been trying to trump me several times since our fight, but what if he just wanted to tell me that him fucking Trisha meant nothing and that I should shut up and be reasonable? After a couple of moments of white-hot anger, I took a deep breath and smiled at myself. That would not be like the Gran I know. Yes, my lover had changed since he reclaimed his station as first heir of a Major House, but surely not this much. No, I would let him stew for a while. Only after I had finished my assignment in Overshadow, --I could only get there via Tir-na Nog’th, hence my journey to the top of Kolvir-- I would hear what he had to say. Smiling, I sat down to enjoy the last rays of sunshine.

. . . _ . . .

The beauty of the place, my inability to sit still and a hand full of practical considerations inspired me to draw a trump sketch of Kolvir’s peak. The result was pleasing so I continued to work on the trump until it became to dark to draw. By then the moon was in the sky and the stairs to Tir-na Nog'th were taking shape behind me. Quickly, I put my things away and started the ascend. The soft, slightly spongy feeling of the stairs underfoot startled me and a quick glance at the heavens confirmed what I should have noticed before: There was little more than half a moon in the sky. What moonlight there was could be taken away by the small clouds that were forming on the horizon. I decided not to be frightened. If the ghost city would disappear from under my feet, the fall to the sea would take long enough for me to change into my Chaosform and fly away. Although I was curious what the city of prophesy would show me, I did not intend to stay there long. I had better things to do than getting visions and falling to my death.

. . . _ . . .

Inside the silver city I was struck by a feeling of unease, a sense of anxiety in the streets. If the city had been alive it would have been fidgety, it felt harassed and put upon. The streets and moonlight seemed very different from that other time I had been here.

My thoughts went back almost eighty years, when Yaslin and I had come here to walk the pattern, although we did not know it then. Except for two blundering young girls, the silver city had been quiet and serene. My musings were interrupted by the sight of a familiar figure darting out from behind me and running up the street. It was the ghost of my sister and I quickened my pace to follow her, she was going my way anyway. I would transport myself from the middle of this collection of Black Shadows to Overshadow. Ornach had explained to me how black shadows worked, Tir-na Nog’th was a tame cluster of black shadows, and I gathered that the palace or the grounds around the palace would be the centre of Tir-na Nog'th. My sister seemed to be heading for the palace and I ran to catch up.

Yaslin has always been faster than I me and so was her ghost, so I had considerable difficulty in keeping up with her. My phantom sister was carrying her sword unsheathed in her hand. She took no notice of me and when I turned a corner I saw her engaged in mortal combat with a many-headed dragon. The dragon was blocking her path to the palace grounds. At first I thought the dragon was a representation of those hydras I had read about in Murlas' description of the army that was threatening Galoria, but then I saw something that stopped me in my tracks. The heads of the dragon closely resembled the faces of members of our family...

A bit to the side another ghost was watching Yaslin's fight. It seemed to be her boyfriend Treon, who was calmly contemplating the scene while leaning against a wall. ‘Men!' I thought, Useless little buggers, most of them.
My attention was drawn back to the fight because Yaslin had managed to chop off the dragon's head that looked like Caine. Immediately two other heads sprang up in its place: one head that resembled Murlas and another that I could not make out in the moonlight. The second head disappeared quickly into the mass of writhing necks and snouts. I could not help but notice how well the dragon teeth and flashing tongue suited Murlas' face.

Yaslin continued to fight, parrying and ducking and generally being a danger and a menace while the dragon lunged and snapped its many jaws at her, and repeatedly got too close for comfort. When the head that resembled Random shot out and wounded her, I decided I had had enough; I drew my sword and advanced. The first time my sister and I were in Tir-na Nog'th we had suffered real wounds but our swords had done real damage! Yet when I reached the scene of the fight, none of the ghosts took notice of me. One of Yaslin's sudden lunges took her right trough me and when my sword hit the dragon's forepaw the whole scene; Dragon, Yaslin and Treon, disappeared.

In the sudden quiet (metaphorically speaking of course, at no time had there been any sound except my own breathing), I paused to think. I had recognised most of the dragon’s heads and all of them were members of my Amberite Family. And, thinking back, I recalled seeing my own dragon-head mixed in with the others. That head had not attacked but it had been there. I decided to spend more time with my sister. This uncalled for vision suggested she was in trouble with the Family and probably fighting against them. That 'my' head was not among the attacking heads was little consolation.

Something had to be done, I cared too much for my sister to let this slip by. The first thing I had to do, I decided, was check out this boyfriend of hers; Treon. When I first arrived in Amber, I established a small information-gathering organisation in Amber city and later one in my dukedom the Carth Islands. Up until now I hadn’t needed them. This seemed the right time to put my little organisation into action. Their first assignment would be to check out Treon's background and, if possible, find out what his motivations were. While my people were looking into that, I would visit my little sister and assure her that whatever her problems, I would stand by her side. That sorted out, I set out for the palace again.

. . . _ . . .

Soon another glimpse of movement drew my attention. I turned around and looked down a dark and dirty alley. I knew this place: it was a shortcut to the palace. A tall man in a top hat and a long black coat was walking up the alley, or down it, all I saw was his silhouette and the light was playing tricks with perspective. Every time he set down his walking stick, a part of my mind provided the sharp 'click' that would have been there everywhere but in Tir-na Nog'th. He seemed to be far away so I entered the alley to take the shortcut. After a moment, the narrow street became different from the other alleys of the silver city: while they were a reflection of the city below, this alley seemed wider than it should have been, and darker. The buildings to my left and right were higher, their bricks were more regular and their windows bigger. Despite these signs of wealth the alley was covered in filth and many panes of the windows were broken. A thin film of what looked like soot covered every surface. There was a style to the building and decoration of the houses I had seen before but could not place.

Suddenly the man, who had been either been walking towards me or away from me stopped. The buttons on his sleeve flashed silver when he tipped his hat in greeting but the shadows clung to his face and obscured his features. I pretended that I had not been following him and nodded back. The man was not armed, as far as I could tell, but still I felt uneasy. Then I heard his voice in my head:
"It is nothing personal, my lady, I hope you understand this. I am just doing my duty." The man turned around and vanished.

This was intriguing. In other, quieter times I would enjoy having an adversary like this. The shadow of the man had been totally unfamiliar. I should remember that I was a big fish in a small pond, these interesting enemies that turned up lately could very well be the death of me.

The stranger’s style of dress had given me the hint I needed to recognise the architecture of the alley: I had seen pictures with buildings like this in one of the art books in the castle library. The style was called 'Victorian', although I could see nothing victorious about it. To me it looked like wealth and progress in decay. The pictures in the book had been brighter and more cheerful.

The interesting 'Victorian' alley went on and I followed it until I encountered another vision. In the middle of the alley a large mirror had appeared, floating a few feet above the ground. The mirror’s silver frame was decorated in the same style as the decorations above the windows that flanked my narrow road, but in a subtly different way: the flowers and curves of its frame were executed in an angular, simplified version of this Victorian stile. The mirror itself did not show me myself or the alley behind me but a swirling mass of grey clouds. A face rose up from the clouds and I recognised my aunt Llewella. She seemed to see and recognise me, and she reached out her hands. Her face was drawn and she had dark stains under her eyes. What did this mean? All I knew about Llewella is that she had turned funny (if you can call an attempt on baby Ruby's life funny), and that currently she was in the care of aunt Fiona. When I reached out to touch the mirror, it disappeared. Bugger. Another chance of communication that might be lost forever. I was relieved to see the end of the alley and the stairs to the palace.

A solitary figure was pacing the white marble in front of the stairs. It was the ghost of Gran, and I drew back into the dark shadows. I should have known his vision would come to haunt me, the state I was in! To enter the palace I would have to go past this ghost and I did not think I could face an emotional scene, so I tried to transport myself to the Overshadow then and there and avoid being plagued by any more visions. But however much I concentrated, I stayed where I was. I would have to go past Gran to get to the heart of Tir-na Nog'th.

Suddenly the city lost some of its substance and I felt my feet sink an inch into the cobblestones. A small cloud had passed before the moon, I would have to hurry. I tried to transport myself to the Overshadow once more, concentrating how that mystic realm had felt. Damn it, last time I was in a cluster of Black Shadows this worked, and Tir-na Nog’th was such a cluster too, so why was I still here?
Nothing happened. I would have to face Gran’s ghost. But if an encounter was unavoidable, I would make it as brief as possible. If I ran straight at him, I trusted I would pass through this ghost as I had passed through the others. When Gran saw me coming he smiled and opened his arms. Unicorn, that broke my heart. I did pass through him as if he was no more than mist, and while my face passed through his I made as to kiss him. I am such a fool.

Halfway up the stairs I stopped. The ghost had not disappeared when I touched him. His eyes had not followed mine when I got near, and with apprehension I turned around, dreading what I would see. Gran still stood where I had first seen him. He smiled at a woman who ran to him from the place where I had stood, and welcomed her into his open arms. The woman was Myrthe.

And I had thought my heart was already broken...

In a haze of tears I ran up the halls of the ghostly palace. The ground under my feet lost and regained it's solidity a few times but I paid it no heed. How could he! Do I mean so little to him that he can replace me within a day? And not with an old love, not with his ex-wife, but with a strange girl, someone he hardly knows? Why did I have to look back?

Suddenly all of Tir-na Nog'th disappeared from under my feet and I found myself falling through space. Shift shape, I should shift shape quickly and save myself! While falling and shifting I cursed myself: I should have taken on my Chaosform before I set foot on the stairs to this false city! Shape­shifting while under stress turned out more difficult than I had thought. My clothes were ripped apart when my limbs lengthened and the razorblades along my bones and joints tore the fabric to shreds. When my wings finally appeared, they tore the rest of my shirt from my back. The wings came just in time to save me: with a sickening jolt they caught the air and I managed to turn my fall into an arc and a sharp pull upwards, just before I hit the surface of the dark cold sea.

. . . _ . . .

Panting, I turned a few circles on a small rising thermal. How stupid can you be, Boadice? Fiona would not have been proud of you, letting your feelings get the better of you like this. Slowly I rode the air. When I first started flying, I learned that wings of skin are not by far as effective as wings of feathers. While my wings are better for sharp turns, they are far less aerodynamic than feathered wings. Staying airborne takes more effort so I had practised taking advantage of air currents to save effort.

When my circles brought me to face Amber's docks again I noticed some commotion there. I had counted on the clouds that obscured the moon and Tir-na Nog'th to provide the darkness that would hide me, but it seemed I was wrong. A handful of people who should have been in bed this time of night had gathered on the piers, shouting and pointing. I drew my razorblades tight against my body to reduce their sheen and beat my wings to gain height. Of all the stupid mistakes to make, this was my second a big one of the night. Of course they would not recognise a winged demon as a member of the Family who had the *right* to be in Tir-na Nog'th! As I struggled to gain height and distance, I saw how they fired crossbows at me. The arrows fell short by a league or two, but I was hurt nonetheless.

Another turn brought me to face the castle. There was commotion there too, and I saw Gerard with his foot on the battlements put an arrow in the largest bow I had ever seen. For a moment I was struck by the magnificence of the vision. If I could paint this¼ I had heard stories about this longbow! It was rumoured to be forged by dwarves out of steel that had fallen from the sky, and only my uncle could draw it. It had a name of at least four syllables and it had pierced the armour of a hundred dragons, or so the stories told. And now it had an arrow against its string that was meant for me.

Reflexively I went into a dive, swirling and turning, sacrificing height for speed. This would be an awful end to my life: shot down by my own uncle, with an unmarked grave in the sea. Then I heard a twang and a swishing sound and was relieved because it meant that he had missed me. Before Gerard could draw his bow again I had made good my escape.

. . . _ . . .

Between the other silver and black gargoyles on the battlements of Tir-na Nog'th I sat down and brooded. A fine messenger I was: Murlas and Taureth can just wander in and out of Overshadow at will and I can't even find its front door with a map. I couldn’t even hang on to my man. He sleeps with his ex when I am gone for three days, and when I break up with him it takes him about six hours to find someone else. In the courtyard beneath me laughing, happy ghosts walked hand in hand and made jokes about someone whose name sounded like go-at-ease. A silver and white Frewar plotted the breaking up of a relationship with Trisha, and a cold wind blew over a grave marked 'Here lies what's-her-name, daughter of no-one'. It made me ponder what I had accomplished since I had come to Amber. The power structures between Amber and the Courts of Chaos and those within of the Courts itself had ruined a perfectly good relationship. I had let myself get infected by a corrupted version of the Logrus, was pressed into service to a man who despised my family, I had...

No! Things are not that bleak! Ornach had proven himself to be a reasonable and interesting employer, and I chose to continue the association for the influence and information it brought me. Walking the fixed Logrus was bad, yes, but it gave me my Chaosform, which had wings to fly with. In the Courts of Chaos I helped end the curse that plagued my lover (who betrayed me), I killed a monster to save the life of a friend, (Frewar, who *might* have plotted with Trisha to break Gran and me up,) and I saved Bihaye from an un-life worse than death. And my time in Amber has not been wasted either. So what if I made an ass out of myself while liberating the Carth Islands! They are now back on the road to prosperity. I found my long lost sister, (who might be in trouble at the moment) and although I did not find out who my father is, I managed to narrow the choice down to two. So there, you lying shadows, I would not sit here and let you mock me. I would trump back to my beautiful new palace in Carbona and have a good night sleep. Tomorrow I would try to get into Overshadow in another way, and then I would see what to do about Gran.

. . . _ . . .

I trumped back to my hall in Carbona, changing back to human form and dressing myself in an illusion of clothes before I went looking for a night guard. He went to fetch the head butler, who, roused from his sleep, came to welcome me and told me that just after I had left that afternoon, my young man had been here to see me. I was touched. Gran had come over to see me! I had not been replaced yet, Tir-na Nog'th had lied. I went to my bedroom and while I undressed I pondered what I had seen. Yes, it would be ridiculous, it would be very unlikely that Gran would take up with Myrthe, of all people. They don't even know each other.

Now wait a moment¼
Myrthe is distantly related to Amber, but she is a Chaosian. They might know each other from before Gran's exile. She is the daughter of Felicia, who is the daughter of Osric. And¼ Felicia is King Monias' intended, Felicia and her daughter are in Galoria. And Gran had gone to Galoria… I stopped dressing because I had inadvertently torn my nightgown in two. Had the silver city tried to warn me? Get your man back soon because there are other women after him? Should I trump Gran and make up? Now? No, I couldn't! He had done me wrong, I would not make the first move.
'But Boadice,' a lonely part of me whispered, 'pride like that kills love too'.
'No,' I thought. ‘this is not pride, it is a matter of self-respect’.
I could go back to Gran and apologise, say I understood and he would take me back and marry me. Probably. But then I would have lost my self-respect and that would be the end of love anyway. It would be entirely the wrong fundament to build the marriage I wanted on. Fiona would thoroughly disapprove.

Yes, I would ask Fiona how to get to Overshadow! She would know, and maybe tell me. I almost got out of bed again to trump her but remembered just in time that it was several hours after midnight. I blew out the last candle and was soon fast asleep.

. . . _ . . .

The next morning I slept just a little late, so I could trump Fiona an hour after breakfast was served in Amber. She smiled when she saw me, and when I asked if I could come to her she said: "Of course, of course". When I stepped through I found myself in the gardens of the castle, on the big lawn under one of the chestnut trees.

The sight of my dearest aunt gave me quite a shock. She looked as if she was recovering from a serious illness or wound. Her translucent skin was whiter than ever and a warm plaid blanket was draped over her legs. Several servants hovered in the distance in case she might require something. Fiona was charming and attentive, telling me to take a seat and offering me refreshments. As I sat down on the chair a servant had brought, I asked her what had happened.
"Oh, a... misunderstanding with Adrian." she answered lightly and dismissed the matter with a wave of her hand.
"Shall I kill him for you?" I offered. "Please? How could he--"
"I rather think he is being taken care of, dear. But it was sweet of you to offer."
I felt myself beginning to blush. I don't deserve her being so nice to me.

"And, dear, how are you doing, nowadays?"
"I had a fight with Gran," I blurted out. "It is all my fault and I know I am not worthy of your notice and I should have paid more attention to the goals you had set for--"
"Oh dear, dear child," Fiona said while she patted the back of my hand. "He is not worthy of you!"
"Thank you," I sniffed and rummaged through my pockets for a handkerchief.
"For him ten others."
"But I don't WANT ten others," I sobbed, unable to stop myself.
"Ah, well, you will sort it out, then, won't you? I know you can."

"I have been rather stupid," I said. "Ornach asked me to deliver this letter to his daughter in Overshadow," I showed her the document in question, "And I had heard that I could get there via Tir-na Nog'th, but I can't get through. And this thing you gave me," I fished the pendant she gave me from the depths of my bosom and held it up to the light, "doesn't help either and I feel so stupid!"
"It does not help, you say?" Fiona said. "May I have another look at it?"
I pulled the chain over my head and handed her the crystal. Fiona studied it intently for several seconds. Could I ask her to tutor me in the art of Magic? I would not dare impose, she might find me impudent, or worse: a slow learner.
"Very nice. I can't find anything wrong with it." Fiona handed the pendant back to me. "It should work."
"Yesterday," I said, "I went to Tir-na Nog'th, and I should be able to project myself to the Overshadow from the midst of the Black Shadows."
"You have entered a cluster of Black Shadows?"
"I went to Tir-na Nog'th and..."
I realised that I was babbling. Perhaps our city in the sky was not a cluster of Black Shadows and I had once again demonstrated my ignorance?

"Ehm, yes," Fiona nodded. "I see. No, Boadice, you should understand that Tir-na Nog'th is indeed a cluster of Black Shadows, but it is also very different.”
She went on to explain that our moonlight city of dreams was a kind of tamed version of a Black Shadow cluster, most notably because it had a pattern in it. It also worked by different rules, and if one could transport oneself to Overshadow from a Cluster in a certain way, that might not be the way to use while travelling through Tir-na Nog'th. The city lacked much of the usual flexibility of a cluster of Black Shadows, something that was not altogether undesirable considering how dangerous Black Shadows usually are. If I would enter Overshadow from Tir-na Nog'th, I should first put some distance between myself and the Pattern. The use of Pattern was not the quickest way to enter Overshadow.

"So I enter Tir-na Nog'th and then I leave it again? Up the Tir-na Nog’th version of Kolvir?"
"No, I don't think so. There must be another way. You will find it, I'm sure. Or you must find a different cluster of Black Shadows, one without a Pattern."
I told her about the cluster of Black Shadows in the ways of Helgram and showed her the trump Ornach had given me. Fiona then asked me many questions about my work for Ornach and the social and political situation in the Courts, and I was happy to tell her everything she wanted to know. Fiona also seemed a bit worried about my mental health but I could assure her that she had taken adequate care of that, and that I was as sane as I would ever be.

The conversation returned to my broken relationship. Fiona was of the opinion that Amberites are not to be trifled with and that I should remember this in my relationship with Gran. In this, according to Fiona, my wishes should be of paramount importance and Gran should be aware of this. Yet, all things considered, Fiona said that she knew how difficult it was for us Amberite women to find a good partner.
I agreed with her: shadows are but toys and Family was out of the question.
"Yes," Fiona said, "It is hard to trust someone, it always will be."
I nodded and tried to keep my feelings in check. Just one day as a free woman and I was lonely already.

"It all depends on how involved you want to be, emotionally," Fiona said. She then wished to know why I had wanted to marry Gran, why I felt I had to get married. The answer was that I felt I needed the security, I needed to know that Gran was really mine. And the power I would have had as the wife of the heir of a Major House was not something to sniff at, in my humble opinion.
"A Chaos house," Fiona said, and she looked into my eyes. "That is nice, of course, but not what you’d call..."
"But all places of influence here in Amber have already been taken!" I objected. Fiona nodded.
"That is true, yes. But a Chaos house... It does lack a certain something."
"It is one of the highest positions I can aspire to, given the present situation."

"Yes," Fiona said, staring in the distance and nodding. "Maybe we of the first generation could have left just a tad more room for you young people to develop yourselves in. But on the other hand, look at what some of you have made of yourself; we have kings, first advisors of major Powers, heads of Houses... I think you youngsters are doing rather well."
Adrian was king of Sherwin, his brother Alexander the power behind the throne of Galoria and Murlas had become head of house Ysarn.

"Yet for every king or statesman we have a nobody like Yaslin, someone stuck in shadow like Rinaldo, or a corpse like Merlin. And... and..." I took a deep breath. "And I think I might be pregnant."
Fiona did not bat an eyelash.
"Do you want to be?"
"I'm broody," I mumbled. "Hormones, you know."

Fiona's tinkling laugh made me look up.
"My dear, don't you think there are enough Amberites already?"
I looked down again. "But I would like a baby of my own..."
"The Family has already grown so much in a short time!" Fiona pleaded. Then she got wistful: "A bit of a rest would be nice, some time to get used to the new faces and the changes."
"But a little baby, like Ruby, with ten little toes and..."
"They don't stay little, you know, they grow up so very fast. And children are very vulnerable. Before you know it, you are constantly trying to protect them. It can be quite a strain."
"So you think I should have an abortion?"
"I did not say that. That would be something you should decide for yourself."
"I shall think about it," I said. I reminded myself that all I had done so far was slip up on my birth control, as far as I know I had not even missed a period yet.

We concluded my visit with a little chit-chat before I trumped home. It had been a very pleasant morning. I don’t know why people call Fiona a sharp and unpleasant woman, she is always very nice to me. I decided to put a plan into action that would make her proud of me. When Andreas approached me with the documents he wanted me to review, I stopped him and asked him to stay. Andreas is my new secretary. He would have been a very handsome man, were it not that nature had been so cruel to give him the stature of a dwarf. Because he was his parents’ only child, he initially received the education that befitted the heir of an earl and a countess. Then, a few years ago, his mother, against all expectations, got pregnant again. The resulting son was straight of limb and healthy in all respects so Andreas was promptly disinherited. Andreas was then left with the mind, the education and the inclination to rule and govern and no place to do so. When he heard I was looking for help he braved custom and the palace guards to gain an interview with me. Because officially no-one knows what happened to Mardoc, Andreas' position is that of senior steward.

"You know, Andreas," I asked while he put his pile of documents on my 'in' tray. "That secretary I used to have, Mardoc."
"Yes, what about him?" Andreas said.
"Well, I lost him in the Courts of Chaos, and I was wondering if he had a family. They would be entitled to a widow- or orphan's pension. If you could find out if Mardoc had any family, I would be much obliged."
Andreas just nodded and said he would look into it. It was a good idea to hire one of the high nobility for this function. I gather things went wrong between Mardoc and me because he was low-born and a sailor on a Carbonan ship before he quit to be my servant. Mardoc did not know his place, and when I treated him according to his station he felt abused. The nerve of him, to comment on my relationship with Gran! Andreas' most annoying trait so far is his tendency to stock my cellars with rare and expensive wines, and then be upset if I drink them.

The rest of the day I spent in the Carth Islands. I worked on the documents Andreas brought me until I came to the draft he had made for the revision of marriage law in Amber. I could not bring myself to look at it. Gran had tried to contact me several times that morning but I had not taken his trumpcalls: Fiona had told me I was too good for him, so I guess I shouldn't, should I? The rest of the afternoon I worked on my trump of Tir-na Nog'th by twilight. There is always joy, and sometimes relief in creating a trump I am proud of.

. . . _ . . .

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