The Alhambra

A personal report to Julian from his daughter, Constance, pt 4

Whereupon Constance departs the Duomo, revisits the bordello that is House Unman, suffers disturbing dreams of an airship, has an unsatisfactory meeting with her father, Prince Julian, and accompanies Sorashi in exploring her new unreal estate of the Alhambra, inherited thanks to her coup-de-grace of Zilaph Calipha, the last of House Abal; finally Princess Flora gives her a dress and Constance becomes The Woman in Red.

My dear Warden,

We gather post skirmish. I have taken some knocks but nothing that I will not recover from in a few days. I look for my Lord Warden. Princess Llewella binds my Lord’s arm – an act she has doubtless undertaken for her brothers on other occasions. He is, as always, stoic. She is to return to the Marina where she will be working to Benedict’s orders. Be safe Princess.

I look further about me. Prince Caine limps from injury. The rest of us seem well enough. But a glance at Prince Delwin’s face gives me a less welcome sight. He doe not look like a man long for our World. Princess Sand examines him on his litter and he is carefully carried away. I whispered a prayer to Our Hornéd Lady for his protection.

We depart in the company of our demons. I ask to return to House Unman to give Lord Torc his reply regarding Sorashi’s desire in earrings and as we walk there I decide I will accept Torc’s invitation to Revels for as Prince Benedict said We must make friends. I ask for Lord Torc and am admitted. He is standing in the Gallery and introduces the male figure with him as Laird Tobias of the House Unman and Master of the Revels. He introduces the four figures that are emerging as I wait within the large chamber: Douglas, Shona, Fraser and Morag.

Lord Tobias claps his hands and preparations for Revels begin around me. Non humans emerge bearing unlikely looking instruments. A cacophony is struck up by the band. My ears prick to work their way through the maze. There is little melody here within the cacophony, but it is the driving rhythm underneath all that makes the music sound quite odd to my ears. This is no Courtly Minuet; it may be magic or it is just different in the way that so much here is different? Other denizens emerge bearing trays filled with goblets and sweetmeats.

I dance. Lord Torc does not. I have danced at revel before in Garamond’s gilded cage, but not at revels such as these. After only a few turns I discover that I am a meat carcass being spun around a market where any man is free to thrust his groin against me, pinch my backside and slide his hand around to grope my breast. I look around me. Women act the Happy Harlot and the men are free to roam. This... this revel is not right. Sex is here, overt and in a way that makes it very different than Garamond’s Revels and although I was doubtless off limits from any overt expression of sexual desire this – all of this, just seems like an act.

I look up at Lord Torc and notice between spins that he and the Laird are deep in conversation. I see a similarity between the two of them – almost as though they are of the same ilk. Torc, of the Seelie Court I had presumed and Tobias of Unman? Therefore Unseelie - or at least Chaos’ interpretation of what the Unseelie Court is? Maybe it is – for I have little to judge it by except that my right nipple aches and the map of bruises across my body from the earlier skirmish is swiftly turning into a continent.

I extract myself from the spinning market and find my way back to lords Torc and Tobias. Benedict’s order that we must make friends is still clear in my thoughts. I inform Lord Torc of Sorashi’s decision and thank the Laird politely for the Revels. We briefly discuss the earlier events of the evening and I smile as I broach our desire to return home and raise the question of how we might find a way to win House Unman to our cause. He smiles, perhaps as though he has been waiting for this conversation. Unman would be happy to offer us an alliance and that such an alliance would be bridged by a bed. I freeze as he smiles at me saying that I am their point of contact. I slide into an immediate retreat saying I regret that I am not available but that I would be pleased to take their offer to Prince Benedict.

The atmosphere changes. The music has stopped and the Master of Revels stares at me coldly. I am lost for words. My chastity is sacrosanct and although I have no idea at all how House Unman actually procreate, I feel as though their intentions are to consecrate the marriage here and now. No, by my Hornéd Lady! I find Lord Torc speaking soothing words and with his arm under mine he escorts me towards the door. Out of earshot his demeanour also changes. His voice is low and serious - all pretence of pretty Courtliness gone. He tells me to leave immediately if I am to remain safe. Your invitation, Lord Torc. Podaga awaits me and we set off home immediately. Me in a near state of physical and mental tiredness and wondering on the motive behind Torc’s intervention.

My dreams are filled with sexual imagery. The worst is kept for the end. It is a dream of pursuit. I am riding hard in Arden. I am being trailed by something that makes a rumbling noise above me – it’s shadow creating a dappled effect through the leaves of my forest. I look behind me and trace the source of the Shadow above me and see it gliding above me. It is phallic. It is silvery – an ‘airship’, Darig called it. It is above me. I slow Morningstar and turn to take a shot at it with my bow. But it is well beyond my bow shot and I cannot use Pattern to affect events here. I turn Morningstar tightly and force him to double back at a gallop, seeking shelter under the deeper parts of Arden’s canopy. I look up as the Airship is raining something down from its body. I take cover – just in time as steel darts are raining down upon us, taking leaves from the branches and ripping the very bark from the trees as they fall. When the first steel dart goes straight through my beloved Morningstar’s head, I start to scream. I am still screaming as I awake.

Some time later, I am informed by my hosts that House Karm have agreed to allow me to meet with Prince Julian. The exterior of their house is dark and gothic with an indelible air of ‘enter at your peril’ about it. The interior is spartan and austere. I am informed by the Corporate aired guide that this meeting is a loss leader for the House and that any further request for a private meeting with Prince Julian will require payment. I nod and wait.

You look much as usual, a barely perceptible crease near your right eye indicating slight discomfort from your arm. I talk to you of Torc’s doggerel and my desire to know of the circumstances of my birth. You are angry with me for eavesdropping upon your conversation and adamant in your refusal to give me details of my birth, saying simply that my Mother was a bad Mother and that Faerie are trying to drive a wedge between us. I reply that they are doomed because I regard the man who brought me up as my father and no other. The wedge will not lodge. I also wonder if my mother was doing the best she could for me in getting me out of Faerie?

I ask you about your coldness towards me at the art gallery and you tell me that I had no business being there. I ought to have been about Benedict’s orders and I explain that I was about Benedict’s business simply by being there. Besides which we might have been slower in our uncovering of Prince Brand’s plot and that I had proved useful in both scouting and skirmishing. I sigh helplessly. You give your blessing and I bow and leave you again.

I have Podaga take me to the Hall of Memories. What is pertinent to me? Item One: a picture in a very romantic style, ‘La Belle Damn Sans Merci’; she with red hair and green eyes captivating a male in black and white. My Warden’s entrapment – yet black and white? Why not white or black and silver?

A second painting of my Lord Julian hunting in Arden. The object of his hunt was a person – a man in black and silver. Prince Corwin’s colours certainly. I was minded of the fact that Prince Julian spent a decade looking for Prince Corwin when he went missing. His enmity towards Corwin was well known – he must have been keen to disprove himself as a suspect.

In a display case there was blood-stained silvery black clothing. The clothing had been ripped by Morgenstern sized teeth if I am any judge. More seeming evidence? My Lord had once been known to torment his hounds with an item of Corwin’s clothing. This item of clothing showed all the signs of having been ripped apart by my Lord Warden’s favourite hounds. I shuddered. There was no love between them.

The fourth and final item of memory was a portrait of Prince Brand – not by Dworkin’s hand because I knew his style from Prince Julian’s Trump deck. But there he stood, posed complete with the Jewel of Judgement. There was the worry.

I travel to House Sumi to find Margrath. Prince Delwin is yet living though his injuries are life-threatening. I find myself praying for him again. The wider news is that both Princess Deirdre’s and Prince Brand’s bodies have been recovered from the Abyss. The Princess’ body lives and Prince Brand’s does not – however, as their bodies are already separated from their souls it is the opinion of the esoteric among the group that it may be possible to revive one (albeit in another body) and revive the other and reconnect the soul.

I am both confused and concerned about this news. I do not know how I would have responded had it been Prince Julian who fell. I look for Sorashi. She must be in turmoil at this news. Putting that aside, this seems a much greater step to me than merely using the Shapeshifting ability to help heal Prince Delwin – and that was swiftly stamped on by Prince Caine. It is also a dangerous step – how do the group propose to manage Prince Brand’s ambitions? The group is then informed that Prince Brand’s spirit has been seen in the Thelbane. My, he gets about: Hall of Memories, Art Exhibitions and now the Thelbane.

Something called a Tyíga is referred to as something where a spirit may be housed. Other spirits may also used but they are considered less clean. I consider this and wish harder for the comparative simplicity of Arden.

I next hear Princess Sand say that in her alternate memory of events Deirdre lived which, I gather, makes it real [whatever ‘real’ means in this place!] But what did Havelock say to me recently about the House that can manipulate Dream? A painting can be used to manipulate reality – we have seen this – but the manipulation of Dream is even more worrying. Can another House manipulate memory? What have we all seen in the Hall of Memories? Exhibits of the past or a planted past that can influence the future? My head begins to throb.

I go over and stand with Darig and give him the edited highlights of my dream. I ask him as a tactician, what could we do to defend Arden, or indeed to defend ourselves in Arden against such a thing as this airship with its blades of steel? After some consideration and debate we both came to conclusion that we would be basically in an indefensible position. The memory of Morningstar’s head exploding lives with me still!

Sorashi announces that she has inherited property of some sort from Zilaph Calipha. We are guided with her to this property which is called the Alhambra. The Water Reflection Room took my breath away with a sense of inward meditation, peace and beauty; I breathed deeply of this room.

There was a treasury which contained perhaps some of the most valued objects of the House. The objects on display felt Real – of reality not fashioned of the stuff that permeates Chaos. There was a silver spiky item described as the Coronet of Nasr, it felt powerful in its own right. There was a glove, it had an iridescent sheen and was perhaps the most powerful of any item in the room. It was of a nature quite inimical to Amber.

There were weapons, one consisted of three spiked balls on a chain and the other was a whip of fish hooks. I noticed the poison on these hooks and alerted the others to its presence.

Finally, there were two lamps just like the pictures of the lamps in the stories of Aladdin that Beyla read me when I was a child. One was a bronzed black and was of moderate power. The other looked to be of gold and was powerful. This one was named the lamp of Az-Zaghal. Within it, if I understood correctly was a demon who would now be bound to Sorashi. We were warned of creatures in the House. A Chimera – a beast that assumed a different form every time one met it.

We left the Alhambra to see Hector, now the heir apparent to House Zigo. Hector spoke to us about their desire to sign out alliance with a marriage which would have a short agreed period. One of the two parties would have to move. They intended for the Amber side of the alliance to be of the Royal House of Amber. He named a number of his house members [and some sounded as though they might be female] as suitable parties for the marriage. Hector also announced that there would be a wake for the passing of the members of House Zigo to which we were invited as well as perhaps a wake for Prince Delwin. I immediately prayed quietly again for an intervention from our Lady on his behalf. Let us require no wakes for Prince Delwin and let Our Hornéd Lady guide the wise in the matter of the futures of the family members retrieved from the Abyss and please, please Lady keep Arden and her Warden safe!

I quietly spoke with the more worldly-wise Sorashi to ask her if she had given herself to another as I had found myself in a place where I feared my only value was for my family origins and my body and that, as a concept, was inimical to my upbringing and my very soul. She was surprised by my question but could give me little counsel.

I looked up again to hear Hector speaking enthusiastically of the virtues and beauty of Princess Flora. She was being hosted in his House – and they loved her! I had always argued that she had her place in events. Her skills with a bow and command of a body of soldiers may not have favoured her but here she was, in her element, and she appeared to have won the already favourable house over completely. Princess Flora chose this moment to grace us with her presences! She asked me up to her Chambers so she might repay her debt to me from the Day at the Races.

Flora looked me up and down and chatted happily as she sorted something in her wardrobe that would suit my hair and colouring. There was scant to choose from for our colouring is very different indeed. I had never seen so many different dresses and so many pairs of shoes in all of my life. I own riding boots, walking boots and some heels if required to dress for a formal dinner. She owned all the other pairs of beauty that had ever been produced.

She decided on a red gown for me. I tried it on and she looked me up and down again, smiled and said she will need to make some adjustments. She bought out a tailor’s box of chalk, pins and scissors and marked up the adjustments there and then. I was taken aback by her knowledge and skill and she smiled, saying that she needed something to keep her busy and that the clothes that looked best on her had also been designed and made by her. Clever woman!

I asked her about marriage and asked eventually if I was obliged to be taken in marriage. She laughed and gave the most sage advice I heard all day – no one can be forced into marriage. I relaxed into the current task of a model. Alas her feet were smaller than mine so she was unable to lend me shoes but she assured me that I would suit the barefoot look and my ‘secret in the woods’ persona. I commented that I prefer to be booted before a skirmish! She took such care and was so kind. I felt guilty for the harsh words I had heard from the men about her battlefield capabilities. She whisked me down back to the others and we separated with our demons back to our Host Houses.