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AMBER
Boadice’s diary,
Session 91
Played on the 9th of June, 1999
(Except for the talk with Murlas, played with
just Maurice –Murlas's player– on June the 7 th .)
Written by Jopie Schekkerman, based on a campaign by Astrid Tops.
was on my way to see Murlas. He'd sent me a note saying he wanted to talk to
me and that it was urgent, so of course I went. I packed up the portrait of
Samal that had been cluttering up my studio, asked Taureth to synchronize time
in Ornach ways with the rest of the Courts and set off.
In Ysarnways –Murlas's un-lovely but comfortable home that used to be Tirga's— my cousin greeted me politely. He led me to a sitting room with yellow walls, heavy furniture and no windows; a room obviously designed to shield its occupants from eavesdroppers. Before I was allowed in, I had to open my package. I took great but secret pleasure in seeing Murlas's face when he saw it was a gift. When I paint someone's trump I always make a life-size portrait of them as a fore study. I had gotten sick to death of having Samal's smart-arse face leering at me from the wall, so giving the painting away looked like a stellar idea. Murlas was pleased with the gift, as well he might be. He offered me a drink and we sat down.
“How are you these days?” my cousin asked. “You have been rather hard to contact lately.”
“I was in shadow,” I answered, “Looking for Ornach's children. It took me—“ I touched my damaged face for dramatic effect, “—some effort.”
We chatted a bit but Murlas came quickly to the point.
“I wish you luck,” he said. “I was afraid you got involved in the events in Sherwyn.”
‘Which events in Sherwyn?”
“You mean you haven't heard?”
I said I hadn't. I only heard Adrian 's kingdom was changing somehow.
“I think you can call Adrian 's death a big change, yes.”
I was dumbstruck. Shocked. It couldn't be, Adrian could not be dead! But he was. Murlas had not seen the body, but told me he had heard of Adrian 's demise from a reliable source. He had given his life to repair Corwin's pattern in Sherwyn, a sacrifice that drove away all the evil influences that lay over the land. A long lost twin brother –I did not quite understand this part of Murlas's story— called Justin had stepped up and filled the void Adrian left.
Murlas respected what our cousin Adrian had done, I could tell. It couldn't be true, could it? We don't die, us Amberites. But Adrian 's trump wasn't cold anymore.
I stammered:
“It takes one by surprise… One of us dead…”
First Coral, whom I had never met. Then Merlin. I had carried his corpse through the Fixed Logrus. And now Adrian, my favourite cousin, the one I liked most. My knight in shining armour.
“Not really, no. He will be buried before long.”
“Nobody told me…!“
So I wasn't invited. This Justin, stand-in for Adrian , did not want me there. Apparently Adrian had not been as fond of me as I was of him. Now that was bitter. I asked Murlas if he would take some flowers to the funeral for me. He said he would.
I really did not want to continue the conversation but forced myself to make small talk. My cousin had invited me over for a reason. His note had said it was urgent so there probably was something else on his mind other than Adrian 's death.
“To very inappropriately get back to current events,” I said, “my congratulations on your success in the king finding procedure.”
Murlas snarled over his cup of tea.
“I heard you got through the first round with good results and got nominated for the second.”
“Under these circumstances you must do what is best for your House. Unfortunately. I wish they'd get a move on. I'm stuck here as long as they don't.”
I decided to lighten the mood with some free information. I told him Ornach sped up time in his Ways and described Ornach's lack of interest in the king finding procedure. We discussed if Ornach or Jaill would want to become king themselves or if they wanted to be the power behind the throne.
“…you've got to be the power behind the king,” Murlas argued. “That way you've got the resources without the responsibility. And I know Ornach can't afford to spend the time.“
“What do you mean?” I asked, suddenly suspicious.
“I know the Enemy is here with only one goal… To get at Ornach.”
So Murlas knew too… I wondered whether this was good or bad.
“Damn!” I said. “I thought I was the only one who knew that.”
“I put Brand's stuff to good use,” Murlas said.
Yes, I remembered. He and Dorian had made off with Brand's papers from the Hermit's fortress in Overshadow. Rinaldo and Martin were very angry when they took all the documents without sharing. Time to try to impress my cousin.
“I got my info from Malachie.”
I proceeded to tell him more or less what the old man told me: Ornach as an escaped criminal, the Enemy from Outside who was after him.
Murlas then told his side of the story, which was more or less the same: two people from outside this reality, Ornach and the one who came to get him.
“But who is the other?” I asked.
Murlas got up and started to pace.
“He calls himself Lothair. This is one of the reasons why I asked to see you. This Enemy must be defeated.”
I nodded and said “yes”.
“If he isn't, we can kiss our reality goodbye.”
I nodded again.
Murlas was gesturing broadly for emphasis, his black eyes flashing. I had never seen him like this and it frightened me. I liked the cool and cynical Murlas better than the fiery one.
“The universe is in bad shape. Amber excels in indecisiveness, Sherwyn and Galoria are weak. None of them trusts the other so they stay divided, and the Courts of Chaos are at an impasse. They are too caught up in themselves to notice the threat from outside. Most are, at least.”
“Who else knows what we know?”
“Very few, here,” Murlas said. “Jaill never said so but I am convinced he sees the danger. I also strongly suspect the Enemy already has a foothold in the Courts, probably in one of the other two parties. If I have to hazard a guess, it's the house Sawall.”
“How Sawall, why Sawall?”
“Because the other side is doing poorly.”
I felt I had to defend the candidate the Baccarans put forward.
“The Escallwyns were too busy with their own problems to be a good candidate for the throne. I can't go into details but—“
“That's not the point. These rounds of discussions and votes are a game, Ornach is right about that. But he is tackling the problem the wrong way.”
I agreed that sitting on his butt until everything was settled was a bad idea.
“If he would step up and make a choice it would speed up the process. The King finding procedure could take months, the way it stands now. If there's still a Courts of Chaos left in two or three months, that is. I don't know if you heard about the murders?”
I had.
In fact: I had done more than hear about the murders: I had my own theory about who was behind them: my dark cousin himself. In one of his trump calls, Murlas had asked Samal if he could speed up the king finding procedure but only if he was bored. And I knew what a sadistic bastard like Samal does for entertainment. Murlas's ‘campaign' at the moment revolved around the murders. To the Chaosites, Murlas presented himself as someone in favour of a strong Courts of Chaos. His point was that the Courts were not as strong as they used to be. In the good old days horrible murders like these simply did not happen. He said the Courts should seek out the Enemy and destroy them, but he was vague about whose military resources would be used.
On the other hand, Murlas had ‘set an example' by registering a vendetta against the Enemy, or more specifically: against a woman named Sonia. I vaguely remembered meeting her in Sherwyn; apparently she was the Enemy's liaison there. But to get back to the killings: I thought Samal was the mysterious murderer because he had the means, the motive and the opportunity. Samal had the intelligence and the Power to circumvent even the best security of a Major House, and sneak into their Ways. More importantly: he would enjoy murdering people and tearing them limb from limb. Recently, a member of the house Amblerash was shredded in his very own bedroom. The house was very upset. They always considered themselves the Chosen Ones of the Serpent and the reminder that they too were vulnerable scared them. The whole Courts were in a stage of agitation. Quinta Chanicut had committed soldiers from her own guard to protect public places and strengthen weaker houses, even though she could not really spare the troops. This obliged the other candidates to do the same, so Ysarn's troops patrolled the streets next to Chanicut's, and my friend Sarana had mobilized the former Royal Guard.
There was a rumour that the murderer had special powers because he penetrated the best defended ways with unsettling ease. At the very least he would have to be an experienced Logrus master. Murlas suggested the killer used corrupted Nexus but this was not supported by evidence, it just fitted his own campaign. Wouldn't it be just like Murlas: setting his boyfriend on a killing spree to further his own cause? I should remember to tighten the security of Escallwyn Ways and set it to detect Samal especially.
So, the argument that I should involve Ornach because the courts were in grave danger didn't fly with me. But to Murlas, I pretended it did.
. . . _ . . .
“Can't you encourage Ornach to get a move on?” Murlas asked.
I said I could try.
“Trying isn't good enough. You agree with me that something needs to be done, that our reality is in danger?”
“I do,” I said, “But I can't support Jaill as a candidate. Or one of the conservatives.”
“Like the house Ysarn?” Murlas asked with a grin.
I grinned back at him, wider.
“If you are elected king, I will stand by the wayside and wave the little flags. But be fair, do you really think you have a shot? The Courts of Chaos ruled by a conservative, barring the house Ysarn, would be a very hostile place for me. I am allied to an extremely progressive house, besides being very much an Amberite.”
I think that annoyed Murlas.
“Lady Boadice” – it is always a bad sign when people address you with your title and full name– “Has someone ever pointed out to you that there are more colours in this world than black and white?
“But if Jaill becomes the power behind the throne, that—“
“That would be the best thing that could possibly happen to this reality! Let me explain.”
And explain Murlas did, at length. The courts needed to be united to stand a chance against the Enemy and Jaill Helgram would be the best man to unite them. According to Murlas, Jaill was aware of the danger the Enemy posed. He suspected Jaill had cooperated with the Enemy before and got burned by it.
“I'm not saying we've got to have Jaill for King, but from him at least I know he's on the right side.”
“And Jostin Baccaran...?”
“I have my doubts about him.”
“But still you are courting his daughter. Or niece or whatever.”
“Politics.”
“But not inter-reality politics.”
“No.”
“If only Ornach would speak out for one candidate or the other,” Murlas continued, “if he let it be known that he favoured the side that opposes the Enemy, it would greatly increase the speed of this king finding procedure and it wouldn't commit him to anything.”
“But if we let Ornach know we know what is going, on inter-reality wise,” I said, “it will hamper us and decrease our effectiveness.”
We argued like philosophers at an open bar. Murlas said that Ornach would not protect this reality, and I was mistaken if I thought I could get his children to side with us.
“According to Malachie,” I said. “Ornach is as bad as the Enemy; both will tear this reality apart if it suits them.”
“But Ornach isn't doing so. The Enemy is, at the moment.”
He was right. Better the devil you know than the devil you don't. I told Murlas I agreed, and this was why I was still working for Ornach. That, and the off chance that he still might become king.
Even if Murlas was over-zealous and his arguments were weak, this conversation was very interesting. It told me where he stood and his information on the Enemy from Outside was very useful.
Suddenly Murlas asked:
“Where do your loyalties lie, at this moment?”
I gave the politically correct answer:
“With this reality. I am with Ornach because you've got to keep your friends real close and your enemies closer, and to mobilize his children in favour of our reality.”
“You can't.” Murlas.
“This is the only reality they know!”
“You can't, you can't set them against Ornach.”
“Why not?”
“Don't you know what he did to Samal?”
“He disowned him. Or did he do something else?”
“He murdered him.”
That was nonsense. Was Murlas lying to me or was he speaking figuratively? Samal's trump was still cold and I had eavesdropped on Murlas and him only a few days ago.
“That is not true, Samal is still alive.”
“A shadow of him still lives. But that is all that is left of him, a shadow.”
“I am a trump artist; I know the difference between shadow and substance.”
Murlas said I didn't know what I was talking about.
“Ornach is from Outside. His children have power too. That is what makes them special, and that is why Ornach needs them. And that is what Ornach took from Samal.” He waved his arms. “Poof, gone! It is like taking our Amber blood from us, that's what he did.”
That silenced me for a while. If this was true, I shouldn't be returning Ornach's children to him. If Murlas wasn't lying to protect his own interests, that is. But taking someone's power from them isn't killing them. If I lose my Pattern and my immortality, I am still myself. I asked:
“And he can do this to the other ones too?”
“He can.”
“But he needs them now?”
“He needs their strength, and he can take it from them.”
That sounded right somehow. This could be what Random tried to warn me about. Fuck it. This called for drastic action.
“Damn,” I said. “This changes my short-range plans.”
“It's just as well we're talking.”
I told Murlas part of my ideas for Malketh: I wanted to lure her from Ornach's sphere of influence and encourage her to go her own way. I believed she was safe in Overshadow.
“She isn't.” Murlas said. “And it doesn't work that way. Tirga was doing research on this. That was probably why she was murdered. Much of her work was lost but I have been able to preserve a few loose pieces. The children can't be used against Ornach. The only thing that could work was keeping them prisoner, away from their father. Something we lack the power to do.”
I didn't quite believe him.
“I am not convinced the children can't rise up against their father.”
“Are you prepared to wager our reality on that?”
This was a rhetorical question and I told Murlas so.
“I don't think it is. I think we have only one chance in the war for this reality, and if we bet on the wrong horse we're doomed.”
“And you are betting on Ornach.”
“Not necessarily. If we can give Ornach to his enemies we've solved the problem too. It's just that I can't see that happening. And of the Enemy, I know they are not open to negotiations. We saw in Sherwyn what happens to those who try.”
I nodded. Poor Adrian . We are diminished by his passing and this time it's not a hollow phrase.
“This is the way I see it,” Murlas said. “Ornach is our best hope. I hate it but it's true. He broke Samal. Or what's left of him.”
“And the Enemy killed Adrian , indirectly.”
“That's child's play compared to what's yet to come. That is why we can't afford to be divided. What the Courts of Chaos need is a powerful leader, one who can rally all the houses behind him and make a fist against the Enemy.”
“But Jaill ?” I asked. I would not feel at home in a Courts of Chaos ruled by Jaill.
“Jaill is a leader. Jostin is a politician. Right now we need a leader. You can say what you will of Jaill but he dares to take risks. Random is too afraid of what can go wrong, Sherwyn can't do anything and neither can Galoria. A powerful Courts may shake Amber out of its lethargy. The attack on Galoria was nothing, child's play, and look at the amount of damage it did!”
I had never seen Murlas show so much emotion. It frightened but did not convince me.
“I don't see Jaill the way you do.”
“Then we are doomed.”
Doomed, indeed. What a theatrical choice of words. But he did have a point, somewhere. I said:
“I do, on the other hand, see Ornach like you do.”
“Let me put it differently. What are the qualifications you think a King of the Courts should have?”
That, I could not answer. We spent some time arguing what to do. I suggested involving the Sisters but Murlas didn't agree, said they did not care about this reality. There was something nagging in the back of my mind. Sure, Murlas and I did not agree on who should be King in the Courts. In fact we disagreed about many things. But on one thing he might have been right: Ornach should not get his hands on Tiphane's trump. But how…?
“Imagine,” I said, looking Murlas straight in the eye, “hypothetically speaking, that once I found the trump, that I'd loose it. That would be terrible, wouldn't it?”
“Certainly,” Murlas said, and I think he understood. If he sent a few cronies over to steal the trump from me I could keep the trump with the spider away from Ornach and still say I had no idea who had it. As long as I really did not know enough to guess where the trump was, I would not need to lie to him.
I changed the subject back to who should be king and promised to try to get Ornach moving.
“Something should happen to break the current equilibrium between the parties. Ornach will have to be the one to do that, and the enemy is building up strength.”
“Where?” I asked, hungry for more information.
“In this reality,” Murlas answered, stingy.
“Where?” I asked again.
“In this reality. Their influence is growing. You can see that when you look at the way in which shadows change. But when you find out where their power base is, it will be too late. They won't repeat the mistake they made in Sherwyn.”
I guessed I should tell him I was going up against Flora. Murlas reacted surprised; he thought she was still in Sherwyn. I could not tell my cousin much but promised he would know why and how I was battling Flora just after I reported my win or loss to Random.
“Which is after you take her prisoner,” Murlas said.
“If I can,” I said with a shrug. “No, just before I launch the attack. We're still preparing.”
Murlas wished me luck and as a joke I asked him for troops, which annoyed him.
“You really don't know what's going on, do you!”
“Just kidding,” I said.
Murlas raged on about anarchy and criticism and how Ornach should get involved. Again, I promised I would see what I could do.
“That isn't enough, you must really apply yourself! I myself am not just ‘seeing what I can do'! I'm going to get them whatever it costs. Did you think I registered this vendetta to pass the time? I openly declared war against the Enemy.”
I had no answer to this, was tired and wished I could go home. I had promised I would see what I could do with Ornach and would not openly support Jaill. I did not believe Murlas, thought he was full of bullshit and was tired of keeping up appearances.
Murlas sensed my weariness and poured me another drink.
“But enough about this, you are a sensible woman and you are on the right side. I trust you will do the right thing. And if there is anything I could do to help you, like hiding something away safely, you only have to ask.”
Talk about buttering up… I faked a smile.
Murlas also seemed to almost understand what I wanted him to do with Tiphane's trump. Perhaps just one more hint:
“Something very terrible should have to happen to me before I would give up something had so much trouble to find. Not too terrible, of course. But your sentiments are appreciated.”
Murlas asked what my plans were while I was in the Courts.
“Except supporting this reality,” I said, “there is still the problem with my little sister, and I will have to help the Escallwyns survive.”
“Do you really think they are worth it?” Murlas asked.
“That is my own business,” I said, and refused to elaborate. Even if Gran betrayed me, there was still little Elanor to think of.
Murlas described the dangers the Major Houses faced in a way that I found slightly threatening. Quietly, I told him so.
“O no,” Murlas said. “Far from it. So far, I supported the Escallwyns, because I didn't want to antagonise you needlessly. And the battle has not become that heated yet.”
“Believe me, I have my reasons,” I repeated, and I underlined how a ngry I would be if he harmed the Escallwyns. Murlas asked me to consider my priorities.
“It's up to you,” he said. “As long as you understand they are an easy target. I won't go for them, this I promise you, but I can't speak for the other conservative houses.”
I didn't believe him for a second but smiled and nodded and thanked him.
I suggested Murlas told Jostin Baccaran what he knew, or perhaps sounded him out on where he stood but Murlas declined. He also did not like my idea of forming an unofficial alliance of various second-generation Amberites. We are well versed in many powers, and we have at least one of us deeply involved in each of the four poles of the Multiverse. Murlas had no arguments about why he did not like this idea, only that the Courts should be involved and that fighting the Enemy was like fighting the Gods, or shadow beings fighting Amberites.
“I have seen shadow people defeat an Amberite,” I snapped at him. The Amberite in question was myself but I did not tell him this. “They can be very effective as long as they are united and the Amberite does not know what they are up to. And I don't mean united in a political sense simply among each other. Murlas, I'm sorry, but so far you sound like someone who is defending his own political stance with clever rhetoric very little facts.”
“Are you really that short-sighted?”
“This,” I said, wishing I could slap him in the face, ”is not an argument either.”
“What do you want?” Murlas asked. “The head of Sonia on a platter? Just look
at what the enemy did to me: the assassination attempt on myself, the attack
on my house…”
“Do you mean that recent assassination attempt, the one where you were shot while
you were giving that press conference?”
‘Say ‘yes'', I prayed, ‘say yes. Then I know for sure that you are lying.'
But Murlas meant the one in Galoria. I had heard of that one because Gran was there at the time. Murlas again tried to get me to support Jaill. I couldn't, the man was responsible for fixing the Logrus to facilitate his own bid for power. He bloody well slit Merlin's throat and let him bleed to death cold and naked and alone in the centre of the Logrus. Murlas raged against my short-sightedness and I let him. When he was done, I asked for time to think his words over and he let me. We parted with civil courtesies and even a little warmth, faked from my side.
. . . _ . . .
In Ornach Ways I had time to think. The more I thought of it, the more I doubted Murlas' sincerity. He was right in not wanting Ornach to have all his children at his disposal again, but I he was wrong in using Ornach and the Enemy's strength as an argument for getting Jaill Helgram on the throne. Those beings from Outside are powerful but they are not gods. Besides, I resented Murlas trying to manipulate my feelings with his fake intensity and I was convinced he was the one behind the terrible murders.
While I was with Murlas, a message had come in. Sometime in the recent past there had been a serious and mysterious attack on the house Ysarn, something with an egg or a sphere that enemies came out of. There had been fighting in the halls of Ysarnways. But try as I might, I could not find out exactly what had happened. So for Murlas, the stakes had indeed been upped. Maybe I had been too reluctant in professing my support for Murlas's cause.
Damn you cousin, it looks like you're going to get your way. I have to remember you're probably much smarter than I am. But you said so yourself: you've got to cooperate with your enemy to defeat the Enemy, and that is what I am going to do. I am going to smile and tell you ‘yes' to your face and do exactly as I please.
With that in mind, I trumped Murlas.
“I thought about it…” I said.
“And?”
“You are right, but…”
I came through to Ysarn ways, to the same room we were in before, the one with the yellow walls. While I was away I had made a wreath of white flowers. Murlas accepted it without a word. He would be attending Adrian 's funeral and I had every confidence he would put my flowers with the others.
“I want to help, but Ornach will suspect something when I ask him to throw his weight behind Jaill. What did you have in mind?”
We quibbled a bit. Murlas said he did not want Ornach to support Jaill so much as he wanted Ornach to support any strong candidate for King, and as far as he knew Jaill was the only fit candidate. I had to maintain I did not want to support a Helgram, whatever happened, and to my surprise Murlas suggested that his loyalty to Jaill was more of a hindrance than a help.
“If it were up to me,” I said, trying to prolong the conversation, “Both Ornach and the Enemy would leave this reality alone.”
“I believe the Enemy would like that too. But I think Ornach has deeply entrenched himself in this reality. Idle dreams won't help us.”
I was silent.
“But we've got a deal?”
“I know what I've got to do,” I said.
“Thank you. I see this as an open offer for help.”
We drank some of the wine that stood ready on a sideboard. No tea this time. Was this it? Apparently it wasn't.
“I've got another request,” Murlas said. “It has nothing to do with what we just talked about, it's purely private.”
I told him to ask away.
“You know I've got my Ways here, in the Courts. Then there's Garnaghast, in Amber. And it's a bloody long way between those two.”
That it was: almost as far away as you could get and still stay in the same universe.
“I would like a quick route to get my troops from A to B. I've watched my little castle get trampled into the bedrock once and that was more than enough.”
O yes, that was true! Just before his new home in Garnath was ready, an army of pink golems marched through the valley, levelling what was supposed to become castle Garnaghast. I had a giggle about that when I first heard of it.
“I can't make a trump that can reliably span the distance between the Courts and Amber.” I said.
“A trump like that wouldn't be enough,” Murlas said. “I would probably be the only one who could activate it—“ O the vanity! “—but you are a trump artist, aren't you?”
“I like to think so, yes.”
Murlas described what he wanted, and that was more or les what I had in mind. He wanted a tunnel from Ysarn Ways to Garnaghast. The tunnel should span several shadows, with trump items connecting one piece of the tunnel to another. I had a fascinating idea: I could make doors that themselves were trumps: a sculpture in the shape of a door that was a disguised trump of the next length of tunnel. Some doors would be trumps and had to be concentrated on, other doors would be trump-traps or ordinary doors that led you into danger if you used them as trumps. This was a wonderful idea, and so inspiring! The tunnel could be lined with the more traditional traps; rolling boulders and whirling blades for amusement, perhaps more subtle security measures; something sorcery-based. I think Murlas caught my enthusiasm. It would be a fascinating project. But it would be expensive, o yes it would.
“It would be a good way to get information to Random unnoticed.”
I had already guessed Murlas sent rapports to Random just as I did. I nodded.
“In confidence, of course,” Murlas said, and he meant the tunnel.
Yet, I did not want to make a tunnel that could be used against Amber if it was discovered.
“Of course,” I said. “But a tunnel from the Courts to Amber…?”
“Not to Amber, to the Garnath valley. It doesn't need to transport an army. Just a garrison will be enough. An army would be imprudent.”
Julian would be mad as hell when he found out a garrison could sneak to the Garnath valley without going through Arden .
“You don't intend to inform Random about this?”
“Not right away. What he doesn't know can't hurt him.”
I nodded and kept my thoughts to myself. An army coming from a tunnel you don't know about can hurt quite a lot. But I nodded again and reached for a piece of paper.
We quickly drew a sketch of our plans. A long corridor, spanning from the ways of Ysarn to a small, well guarded door in Murlas' castle Garnaghast. The corridor went through five or more shadows with traps, trump tricks and safeguards on the way. It was the most fascinating project I could imagine.
“I can do it,” I said, “but will take a lot of time and effort.”
“I realise that. So, what will it cost me?”
I did not have to think long about that. Old plans fitted fine with new opportunities.
“The Pardai Hendrakes,” I said. “Not all of them, but some. I want the rumour to do the rounds that they are responsible for Trisha's death. They can brag about it, about continuing the job they started when the Logrus was fixed, right in the middle of Escallwyn Ways . When the Logrus was still broken, they made attempts on the life of Thron Escallwyn and both his heirs.”
I was watching Murlas' face. He did not look happy.
“I have no power over the Pardais. I can spread rumours, but you must realise those rumours will increase the unrest and weaken the unity of the Courts. The Pardais are going to be a Major House.”
Not if I could help it. I disliked the house. A lot. Verging on loathing. No time to mention this, the Pardais were allied to Ysarn at the moment.
“As long as people are looking at them as the murderers of Trisha instead of at me, I'm happy.”
Murlas said that was a different request and that to deflect attention away from me, I did not need to frame the house Pardai. I objected that they were the perfect scapegoat.
“They are not,” Murlas insisted. “The Pardais are effectively a Major House. More powerful than the Escallwyns, more powerful than the Ysarns. They only need a king to confirm this. That, and another house has to make way for them, of course.
Murlas really did not want to sell the Pardais out to me, but I stood fast.
“Wouldn't it be better if the Enemy was behind it?” Murlas suggested.
“I can't offer their heads to the Chartins. And it has to be plausible. Why would the Enemy want Trisha dead? And kill her in such a traditional way?”
“She was murdered in the same way as—“
“As Monias,” I interrupted. “Which does not plead for me, nor for my sister.”
“But it does suggest involvement by the Enemy from Outside.”
“It won't work, I tried it. Give me a concrete way to make the Enemy as murderer acceptable to the Courts.”
Murlas had to admit he could not.
“Then I need the Pardais.”
“But I can tell you the Enemy were behind it!”
This cousin keeps amazing me.
“Pray, do so. How? What dealings did Trisha have with the Enemy?”
“I don't know,” Murlas said.
I was disappointed.
“But I do know there was a third victim. I can't tell you who that was but I am sure the Enemy was behind it.”
I sighed. This was interesting but no help at all.
“That won't help you with your immediate problem,” Murlas said, “but it won't harm you to know it was the Enemy from Outside who murdered Trisha.”
“It's no use at all with my current problems.”
“I realise that. But the information I have cannot be made public. I don't mind blackening the Pardais, in a subtle way of course.”
“I would like that. First the rumour they did it, and, later, if it is convenient for both of us, and if the Escallwyns agree, we spring the trap. Will you agree to this?”
Murlas would rather I asked something that did not jeopardize his position in the Courts.
“That is why I ask for the easy bit first; the Pardais bragging about their success.”
“I can't make the Pardais brag but I can ask if the rumours about their boasts are true,” Murlas said. He smiled a little above his black goatee. What he was talking about was indeed a good way to start a rumour, when it came from a reliable source.
“But the Courts have other things on their mind.”
“Let's keep our options open then,” I admitted. “I will need time to make the tunnel.”
“There's no hurry. You know that in a war, patience is of the essence.”
“And attention to details,” I said.
“O yes, that too,” Murlas said.
Maybe Murlas has not waged many wars in his time.
. . . _ . . .
The first thing I asked Ornach when I saw him again was:
“How much time has passed in the hour when I took my bath, before you turned down the speed of these Ways?”
“I dunno,” Ornach said. “Have we got an Amber clock?”
We did and I went upstairs to check. I have a feeling for the time-speed of places. If I take a moment I can feel how fast they are compared to Amber. But this is difficult to do in Chaos, especially if someone has been messing around with the time flow of a ways. So a while ago I bought me a chaotic contraption of glass tubes and carved wood that told the time with falling balls and drops of mercury.
I stepped up to the clock and opened the shutter. Two and a half days the dials said, with an error margin of twelve standard hours. Damn. Two or three days of Amber time had passed, and time in the keep ran one day or maybe two days to one in Amber, so if I assumed the worst six days had passed for Flora and Jasra while I took a bath. Fuck.
“Language, language,” Bleys said as he walked in. I had asked Ornach if he could stay in the Ways and help with making plans. He knew Flora best, I thought. Together we walked back to Ornach's study.
“What I meant was,” I said, “five or six days may already have passed in the Keep of the Four Worlds, so the Keep might already have fallen. A more realistic guess would be that the fight is still on—“
We sat down at a round table, paper and pens to hand. Ornach came over from his desk, sat down and started stuffing his pipe.
“The Keep has the reputation of being extremely hard to take with an army,” Bleys said. “You need to have a trick up your sleeve or a traitor on the inside to open the doors for you. Powers will also get you far. But if Flora got a move on and has gotten herself entrenched in the Keep, taking it back is going to be difficult.”
I nodded and asked:
“Jasra mentioned Advanced Pattern?”
Bleys didn't think Flora knew that much about the Pattern, but then he also had no idea she could mess around with Nexus either.
“We shouldn't underestimate her,” he said.
About time.
I had an idea:
“The Keep of the Four Worlds, I don't know if that shadow configuration is natural, but if Flora already has the Keep, can we pull the shadows apart and destroy the fount of power? Can Taureth do that?”
Taureth was sent for and asked Bleys a number of questions. Bleys knew the shadows of the Keep best; he said he had been there once.
“It will be difficult,” Taureth said when he was done. “It sounds like a primal plane.”
He explained:
Primal planes look like shadow but are incredibly stable. They have a high resistance against manipulation with Pattern and Logrus and such.
“But Flora put up a trump barrier,” I protested.
“That isn't difficult. You can do that in a number of ways, and it's static too. As long as you don't mess with reality, a trump barrier should not be a problem. You can make one with magic, if you have power enough.”
“Can you teach me something about that, sometimes?” I asked.
Taureth looked puzzled.
“O, ehm,” he stammered, “a pupil. I, ehm, yes, I don't have one at the moment. Of course! In fact it's fine. I've got some good books; I will give you something to read before you start.”
“Trump barriers for beginners,” I suggested.
Taureth got up walked over to the bookshelves that lined Ornach's room. He opened the door to the drinks cabinet, which opened to the library downstairs, mumbling “now where did I put it…”
He fiddled a bit with shadow, showing us more books piled on the ceiling.
“You need this one?” Ornach asked. He reached over and pulled a thick volume from the pile that held up one end of his desk.
Taureth came over and nodded happily.
“That's it. Universe mathematics volume one. You've really got to read this, Boadice, to prepare you for the first lesson.”
The book looked depressingly like the series I saw downstairs: Universe mathematics volume two to seven.
“I assume you-- no, of course you learned all about the usual Pattern mathematics long ago.”
“Since when do you have books on Pattern mathematics?!” I asked, upset. This was Pattern we were talking about, the Family Secret.
“Yes, I've got lots,” Taureth said.
“He knows Fiona,” Bleys explained. I could not tell if he minded that Fiona had shared this with Ornach and his family but it didn't look like it.
“But you know all about that,” Taureth said, and I did not see fit to tell him I didn't. Perhaps later, after I complained to Bleys about this gap in my education.
“This explains the basic theory behind why you can't do what you just said to a primal plane. Take it from me, it's not possible. Or very difficult.”
“But can we arrange something that keeps Flora from trumping away if she loses?”
Bleys, Ornach and Taureth looked at each other.
“You would have to block every shadow that borders on the four shadows of the Keep,” Taureth said. Or put up a local barricade, but it would need to be both physical and Power-based.
“What you need is an army,” Ornach said, slamming his fist on the table. “It's simple: you surround the area, add some power and lock her in, simple as that.”
Very simple.
Carefully, I suggested to Bleys:
“I was thinking of handling the army myself. Perhaps you would like to attend to Flora personally? Wouldn't you like to lead her to Amber in chains?”
“Ho now, wait a minute girl!” leys pulled away from me.
“Lets' not be too hasty here. Look, I would like to oblige but the problem is that Random has not yet decided on what he wants to do with Flora. And until that time, as a loyal subject, I have to abide by the rules. No, at the moment I can't do anything about Flora.”
I argued he should look upon it as helping the wife of his full brother. Maybe he could help under an alias? Bleys would have none of it. He sighed:
“Look, just take the army. I give you the troops and you make it happen. You must learn to do these things for yourself. I taught you plenty of tricks.”
“So you won't get involved.”
“I'm lending you the troops!”
That was true and I let it rest but it still made me angry. Bleys really didn't want to get involved. But on second thought it made sense. If he fought Flora and won he went against Random's wishes and there would not be much glory in it for him. If he fought Flora and lost it would ruin his reputation as the golden boy of Amber. On the other hand: if I lost, everyone would say ‘nice try' and leave it at that. But if I won the glory would be reflected on him because it was his daughter who performed the feat, the one he had trained.
“I will give you some pointers. You'll be fine.”
“But how to prevent Flora from leaving once she sees she's losing?”
“Maybe we can't. Do we want to?”
“I am setting our goals high,” I said. “Afterwards we can always see how many of them we accomplished. You shouldn't be wishy-washy about things like this.”
Bleys did not agree and treated me to a lecture on how this maid of Fiona tried to carry a forty-piece tea-service all in one go and ended up breaking everything. I told him my priorities: first to break the siege of the Keep, then, if possible, capture Flora and if there was time left I would try to get my hands on her trump-barrier device, if she had one.
My uncle-father repeated what he had drilled into me before: how every action should ideally be a combination of three factors: strategical, tactical and operational.
“Strategically:” he said, “what are your goals, what are you trying to achieve? On the second, tactical level: how are you going to accomplish what you want with the resources you have?” He was being unbearably patronizing. “And last but not least: operational: you carry out your actions and make sure things go as planned.”
“What happened to Whatsisname's law: ‘No plan ever survives contact with the enemy'?” I asked.
“That plan was not written by me ,” Bleys said.
“That's why you shouldn't have too many goals,” said Ornach, “so you can make a simple plan.”
Bleys agreed and said I should make a choice between Flora and the trump. He didn't like my idea of informing Sherwyn about our actions either. I had thought they might like to know where Flora was, our aunt only had amnesty in Sherwyn, outside she was an outlaw.
“ Adrian doesn't want to know about Flora,” Bleys said. “He was very clear about it. He left the family council when we discussed her.”
My father did not know that Adrian was dead and I felt a pang of guilt at not telling him. Bleys would show up at the funeral uninvited, or worse: urge me to attend. He would find out soon enough.
“But if we don't involve Sherwyn or Amber, do you have any good ideas on how to deal with this?”
“We walk in,” Ornach said, “throw out anyone who's in our way, take the trump and go home.”
Now there's a man who has his priorities straight.
I asked how we were to implement our resources, so to speak. We did not have many troops to spare. Should we just break the siege, and would Ornach want to keep the place once he had possession of it? He didn't.
“I'm not splitting my resources,” Ornach said and neither Bleys nor I wanted to spend our time defending the Keep from other interested parties.
To take a castle by storm you need at least ten times as many attackers as there are defenders. For a strong, high-walled, magically defended fortress like the keep, an attacker would need maybe two or three times that amount. Flora didn't have that many men and obviously wasn't going for that approach; otherwise she would not have bothered with the trump barrier. For the same reason we thought she had no traitor on the inside. You don't set up a fussy, powerful shield if you can walk in when you want to.
On the other hand: while she was laying siege, she was vulnerable. Maybe she knew Jasra only had food for a couple of months. In that case negotiations would start after a few weeks, which would be half as much time in Amber, and Amber would need to know about it first and then send out an assassin or army. That could be just enough time to take the keep and dig in deeply. Too bad for her that Rinaldo and I just happened to be there, and I had a reason to stop her and the means to do it.
“The problem with a barrier like that,” Taureth was saying, “is not the barrier itself but the power it needs. I wouldn't know where to get the amount needed, but I understand the Keep of the Four Worlds is built on its own power source? I wouldn't be surprised if Flora has found a way to tap into that power, indirectly.”
We all looked at him.
“I thought,” said Bleys, “the power was very well protected.”
I told the men about the face in the flames: Sharu Garrul.
“Yes, the guardian,” Bleys said. “I only heard about it through the grapevine of course, but how could Flora make that link without alarming the spirit of the Fount?”
Maybe Flora dug up some dirt or weak spot from this Sharu's past. Ornach shrugged and said:
“Tapping into the fount's power isn't that difficult. In fact it's quite simple.”
“Pray, enlighten us.“
“Nexus Power of course. It was built to make links between powers in subtle and underhand ways.”
Taureth, who had left to gather more books for me, returned carrying a pile of them. ‘Chaos mathematics', one spine read.
“This is a nice one,” he said enthusiastically. “‘Dworkin Esher Bach', not quite the direction you wanted to go but very interesting; philosophical.”
“Lovely,” I said. “Thank you very much.”
Where on earth would I find the time?
“How about arithmetic for secretaries, volume one?” said Ornach. He was joking of course, I know how to do sums and keep accounts. In fact I can cook the books in twelve different ways. It's just that I never had any advanced education in that direction. In Verdiga, Yaslin and I reserved a special kind of hatred for our maths lessons. We never saw the point. Later, when I found I liked running a business, I learned what I needed. For my art I learned a lot of geometry. But this… I opened a book at random.
There were formulas for the relationship between distance, speed and acceleration, which had something do with the time-speed of shadow. Perhaps this was useful. I took another book. X squared and something is two X and the other way around. Is it? Gosh. And here: unreal numbers. Possibly something particular to Chaos.
Bleys and Ornach had gone on discussing the possibility that Flora had already taken the Keep. They didn't think she had, yet, but perhaps she knew tricks to spoil the food inside? While she was in the field, she was vulnerable. Did we need Nexus to cut her power cable, if she used one? Bleys thought Pattern would do the trick too.
I could use the army to create a distraction she could not ignore and cut her power while she was busy. This would disable her trump barrier and make the Keep impregnable again. Flora would have noticed someone escaped the Keep but she would not know who. But if she already conquered the Keep… If she had, and had gained control over the power of the Fount, there is no way I could get her out. In that case I was going to inform Amber and let them put Benedict on the case. So far, I was very disappointed with the way Amber had handled the Flora problem. I was sure they had their reasons but it made us look very indecisive, almost weak. We were talking about the murderess of Random and Vialle's unborn children, the woman who sold her homeland and her entire family to an unknown enemy. I sighed while Bleys and Ornach discussed tactics.
Who am I to tangle with an elder? Face it, I'm outclassed.
On the other hand…
I don't know that. And if I don't try, I'll never know. If I sit on my sword and don't ever use it I will never improve. And keeping her out of the Keep of the Four Worlds will give me credit in Amber.
“Keeping Flora out of the Keep will make us look good in Amber” I said to my father. Again Bleys declined to get involved.
“Besides, it's up to Random to avenge his unborn child, not me.”
Damn him again, letting me pull the chestnuts out of the fire. If I do this alone, I get more of the glory, but do I want the glory? Talk about being in two minds.
“So,” Ornach slapped the table and all our glasses danced. “You take the army to the Keep and use it as a distraction while you cut Flora's power line. The power stuff you will have to talk through with my son—“
Taureth looked up from ‘Introduction to Temporal Chaos Logic'.
“Maybe the barrier goes boom when you do but we'll deal with that later. Right? I hereby adjourn this meeting until someone's got a better plan. I'm off.”
Ornach got up and walked out. Taureth got up too, handed me the books and left with an amiable nod.
“That leaves you and me,” Bleys said. “I will go and see about that army.”
. . . _ . . .
That left me with a pile of books as high as my chin. I wasn't delighted about all the sums. So far power to me has been a matter of creativity and intuition. But if the mathematical approach yields results, why not give it a try? I hate not knowing something. I hate the condescending voice some people use when they say ‘don't you know that?'
I took the books upstairs to look at the Amber Time Clock. The hands that indicated Amber time stood unmoving and I pressed the button that showed the relative time in numbers. Small ebony cubes with gold numbers clicked into place and I opened the shutter to look at them. One day in Amber to six months here, the clock said, with an error margin of a month. Now that was fast. And yet, in Chaos time can go slower than molasses in the snow. I was glad time was on my side for a change. After my big fight with Gran, I went off to Overshadow. There, two days went by for me while he had to fend off his family for six months. That was when I lost him to Trisha, damn her eyes.
But now I had time; time to set up an army, time to get started on these books, even time to paint. But sweet Unicorn, what I really wanted to do was take two weeks off and visit Elanor. I couldn't, time didn't allow it, not even when I had plenty for a change. My breasts hurt when I thought of my green girl. The milk had stopped coming, shapeshifting having taken care of it without my conscious intervention, but still. How would Elanor like her new home in Li-Tin Three? If one day Amber time had passed between when I left her and when I trumped Rinaldo, and I spent four days in the Keep… Time in Li-tin two was four days to one in Amber, that meant she spent 20 days there… Had she learned to talk yet or does that take longer? I decided I was going to see her as soon as I could. And find a book on child development. I'm pretty sure babies are quite different from foals.
. . . _ . . .
Now I had time I was going to take advantage of it. First I had to prepare a huge barrack, maybe an entire shadow within Ornachways to receive Bleys' troops. They needed food, entertainment and a place to stay. They had to be trained, the additional green troops even more so. I would get involved in this so I could win their respect. I made another trump of Ornach ways, of a room that could be missed if I lost my deck again. That reminded me of another plan of mine: trump copying.
With a pile of magic books from the library, my own little studio cum laboratory and my trump of Rinaldo, I started to research a spell to multiply trumps. I thought the ‘copying' part of the spell would be easy but it wasn't. After much work I succeeded in making pictures that resembled the original trump. Unfortunately, channelling Pattern into them was beyond me. I lost control, ending up with a handful of smoking cardboard and paint all over the room. After days of intensive research, all I had to show for my efforts was a very colourful studio and a headache that wouldn't go away. I was very disappointed in myself. I had really, really wanted to do this, to learn something without being taught, without having to say ‘thank you o master'.
After the trump experiments I started on the first of Taureth's books; Universe mathematics volume one. I got as far as page four, and then I had to wait till dark to sneak back to the library to find something more elementary on mathematics. After that, things went more smoothly. To keep myself interested I tried to apply what I learned to the problems at hand. Gods this was dull! Perhaps when I understood more about Pattern it would be easier to pour it into copied trumps. I also tried to apply my new knowledge to the design for the cross-shadow tunnel Murlas wanted me to make. Building it would be wonderful exiting fascinating and challenging. I was going to put my mark on every inch of the way. The fool would let me into his castle and into his ways with my sketchbook and my crayons! A bout of maniacal laughter would be in place here. O, and Random would know about the construction every step of the way. And there was no way I would ever let him have that black and white trump.
These sweet dreams of duplicity made the numbers palatable.
. . . _ . . .
To be continued…
