A Knight at the Opera pt3

A personal prayer to the Unicorn from Constance, daughter of Julian, pt 7

My Lord Warden.

I am certain that that it was not you at the Opera and that in all probability nor did I see you in House Karm. But where ever you are physically held – you dream. I pray to Our Horned Lady that both your body and spirit remain in safety.

My Lord Warden remarks on my lack of ability to control emotion. This is something he has near mastery of. He would say that I am too inclined towards joy and I smile and laugh readily at the beauty and joy of the World around me. There is much in Arden to fuel this joy. I do not cry, although Lucifer would have told you otherwise. I rarely lose my temper. I am more inclined to the clinical disapproval I have, on occasion earned from my Lord Warden.

I was close to fury at the Opera when my reticence dropped and I combined my role of Ranger and daughter with the cold fury of one who knows she is being lied to about someone she loves and respects above all others. But I must control it. To lose it would benefit no one and I must not give the game away.

There has been a game change in Chaos. Havelock’s recent actions have reminded Chaos why they should be fearful of the Pagan and Heretic cadet house of Barimen.

Did I feel Fey when I warned Karm that should the Warden of Arden be found harmed in any way the consequences of their actions would make House Diptera’s fate seem like a walk in the Woods? No. I did not. I will not pay to see my father – but I will make them pay if they have harmed him!

My morning began after a dream of riding through Arden. A full gallop. On Morgenstern! The whole business of ducking, swerving and leaning low across his muscled neck at speed on any horse is never simple. It takes time to learn how to avoid leaving your head on a low branch and experience to calculate the distance between the ears of your steed and the top of your head. Morgenstern can move at such speed that it is awe inspiring to watch. It is a rush to ride him at these speeds. I awoke with a nagging urgency to gallop on that beast. His master and Arden are always in my thoughts but this morning Arden sits veiled in a mist of urgency about her. She is calling me and I must respond.

I am obliged to attend an Opera first and there is the small matter of my Lord Warden to attend to.

I spoke my morning prayer to Our Horned Lady, dressed and joined the ever ready Ariel for breakfast. We discussed political fall out should Prince Julian not attend the Opera and that House Karm may have negotiated a licence to forgo attendance. He agrees to attempt to scry upon my Lord again. This time he is protected against such activities. The oil in the bowl becomes clouded and useless for our purpose.

I asked Ariel about Karm and what he knows about their Internal Security. He replied that they are a martial Rim Lord House and that they are necromancers. He added as an aside that it takes time to summon demons. I take this as a hint that what ever action we take it must be swiftly achieved.

I am visited by Lord Dirk and I ask him for an update. There is a sense of an apology from Prince Caine. Whether I read too much into it, or Dirk has over egged it or just whatever, I am pleased that the air is clear between us. I thanked him and asked him to remind his father that regarding his earlier question to me about technology and Amber that until very recently rifles did not work in Amber and that all indications from my dreams are that things have changed.

I mentioned to him that I may seek his father’s advice on contracts. We discussed actions regarding my Lord Warden and I told him the little I knew. His Trump does indeed ‘not feel right’. Our options appear to be attack House Karm or seek the evidence that my Lord Warden is in receipt of a lack of hospitality and therefore take a diplomatic approach through our hosts to petition the Emperor.

We need Sorcery to attack Karm – and we have little without Princess Fiona. Margrath is a sorcerer and Llewella may be one. We may have assistance from the Orders (for my Lord Warden is being wronged) but there will be no obvious assistance from our host Houses.

I have a little Fey Magic. If I can reach my Lord Warden I should be able to Ward him against Chaos. But have I the power to do this effectively and will I able to actually reach him – and not some other shape-shifted thing?

There are altogether too many ‘mays’ about for my liking – but these are urgent times and require urgent measures.

Ariel returned and invited me to attend a meeting of the Order. We left immediately and the gathering was one of cocktails and nibbles. With, I suspect, all of the Order present and in their natural forms. We are a pseudo martial order. I am to be the 2nd of the Order and this is, I suspect, because I am an Amberite and we are to be feared now more than ever.

Ubermeister: Lord Sorpovin of Jesby – balrog

Zerstorer: Lady Constance of Amber – Barimen form

Vorneweg: Lord Ariel of Pheon – salamander

Nachtherrin: Lady Rhanda of Vaal – vampire interested in news of Merlin

Hartman: Sir Vrachos of Petrus – animated statue

Eisenrache: Sir Raureif of Winter – frost demon

Todmaschine: Sir Tupac of Yupanqui – cyborg

Grossehinrichtung: Sir Jahangir of Moghul – elephant with hand on trunk

Strahlungflieger: Dame Rachael of Seraph – angel interested in William

Dolchstoss: Sir Kageorgis of Spandrel – reptilian

Blitzstrahl: Sir Balarama of Indra – iron bodied with golden hair

Eiferer: Sir Bo of Shang – oriental humanoid – swears to avenge [now deceased]

Wunderschontod: Sir Hunac Ceel of Toltos – obsidian butterfly

There were conversations. Did I intend to challenge the Head of the Order for position? Well no actually – or at least not at this point of time, I added, remembering to play the game.

Bo of Shang seeks revenge for the Moth. He said he would assist if inhospitality is proven against my Lord Warden. I noted this.

Dame Rachel of Seraph asked me of cousin William, wanting to know his intentions and more of his character. I disappointed her as I could tell her little of either. He is a consummate soldier and was gone from Amber many, many years before I arrived in Arden. There is nothing I have seen in his actions that suggest flaws in his character and I am not privy to his judgement. He is a soldier. Straightforward and has seemed always willing to defend us... But this was not the information she sought. In the light of Bo of Shang’s actions and indeed of the assassin’s attempt on William before, that it would seem that he is being held to account for actions in which he merely played the part of pawn. I need to exert influence here. But perhaps I am over-thinking her question and Rachel just wanted my opinion of William as a man and to that all I can say is that I would be happy to fight at his side even though he so thoroughly out classes me.

I was asked how I would like to be addressed – the Order have begun by referring to me as Dame Constance. Titles of address are important here in Chaos. They are an anchor in this so mutable an environment. I enquire as to what this means and I am informed that the higher rank is given to those who have survived the ordeal now being undertaken by Lady Zae. I think briefly on the matter. Titles really do matter here and I have achieved my own similar ordeal therefore I insist on being addressed by the higher title of ‘lady’.

I inquired of Ariel as to the progress with the weapon to face Celadon with. He smiled and the weapon was produced. I will admit that my mind has been widened. The Ranger in me expected a sword. The Archer hoped for an arrow. But Ariel produced a covered crystal goblet. I gave him a questioning look. I lifted the cover and wafted the scent of its contents towards me. They reminded me a little of the liquid we use to make fire arrows – and I thought of the recent dream of my Lord Warden. The goblet was covered. This clear liquid will dissolve Celadon. They are ingenious. I look for the obvious and they have another answer altogether – though I suspect part of the Court’s game is to know how to destroy any other House of the Court.

The event came to a close and Ariel handed me an invitation to the Opera – Agent Provocateur and Interlocuteur avec les Morts. I raised an eyebrow at the first and restrained a shudder at the second, thanked Ariel and prepared myself for the Opera.

Prepared is a strange term in this context. What was I preparing for after all? I was dressed modestly for the few Operas I had accompanied my Lord Warden to. Yet here, in Chaos, the immediate aftermath of an art unveiling was our planned demise and a skirmish. So alongside a dress suit I carried my sword and bow as a matter of course. I could only prepare to be prepared as it were.

Most of my cousins were already with Lord Mandor and it appeared that they had been packing food for a major expedition. We were escorted to the Opera and took our places in Lord Mandor’s box. Havelock updated me on his exhibition of Pattern and physically stood at the very front of the box as a show of strength and, perhaps, a warning to the throngs below. There were very many of them. Amongst my cousins some of us had scripted parts. I was to play Skuld, the 3rd Norn!

The tale was told of treachery, revenge and the undoing of many a Rim Lord House, all leading to the ascent of one Magnus (Augustus Swayvil – he who is easily swayed). The authors are uncredited though the frightening old men, Dworkin and Suhuy, may have had a hand in it. We were escorted down to play our parts and then returned to our box. I watched the opera with interest because it is telling a story that someone wants us to hear.

My gaze switched to House Karm’s box as I sought my Lord Warden. Someone wearing his armour was sitting and moving about there. Interestingly when I checked his Trump he was dreaming. I advised my cousins of this anomaly. His Trump was monitored. At another interval House Karm sent Magdalene over to us for a chat. She was invited in and William blocked her exit and we surrounded her with cold eyes. In a place where there is no magic she must have felt uncomfortably exposed.

I played the game. I inquired as to the matter of my Lord’s indisposition during the ascent of Lady Zae. She reiterated their offer for negotiated access to Prince Julian. I informed her that the news of his indisposition had made me greatly anxious and there would be no negotiated access to my Lord Warden. There would simply be access granted. I required access to him when I needed it and would not be held hostage to any contract. That time was now. I was cold and close to fury. Twice Lord Mandor admonished me and I am sorry for it but I will no longer tolerate Karm’s games.

William of the long blade was our escort to Karm’s box. Darig monitored my Lord Warden’s Trump and Havelock kept a Trump contact open with William (and here I am forced to admit that it would be of strategic benefit for Havelock to paint me – though I am still not keen on allowing a red head access to my mind).

We were admitted and I was given access to my Lord Warden. I looked searchingly in his face. I so longed for it to be my Lord but Prince Caine was correct. Looks may deceive. I tried my small magics and they bounced – magic of this sort may not be used in this place and the Lords of Karm hissed their disapproval at me.

I smiled then, apparently relieved at what I’d found and conversed with whatever it was in white scaled armour. It was not how it spoke but the thought process behind what it said that gave the pretence away. I asked a very specific question to test and the answer was eventually, correct. Somehow they had access to my Father’s knowledge – but it took time for them to verbally fumble about for an answer. Whereas, my Father holds his tongue until he has the precise answer to a question, it fumbled its way through to the eventual pronouncement of Garamond. The answer was right, the voice was right, the skill of the shape shifter undoubtedly brilliant, but they had not the nuance of my Father’s cadence and manner, for he is precise in all things. I smiled in relief, demonstrating to them my satisfaction that I was speaking to Prince Julian but to myself in the knowledge that I was certain that this was not my Father. No further terms were discussed but I assured my Father that I would see him again in the near future.

William and I returned to Lord Mandor’s box via Trump and I made sure that I publicly smiled and looked reassured. In the privacy of the box I said I did not believe that it was Prince Julian. Inwardly I retreated into worry. What have they done to him to access information in such a way?

I pondered on this as the Opera unfolded. There was a great deal of singing – as one might expect – but a lot of dancing. Political dancing in this case. Doves and Hawks circled various Kings after they enabled the death of the sitting Empress. Magnus [Swayvill] that shall slay his Dam – the moth herself. Killed by the actions of William but he was an innocent in the hands of the Houses that sought elevation – namely Sawall and Ascaris and, of course, Magnus himself. Diptera was the price to be paid for their elevation and the destruction of Amber their ultimate prize.

But all of this scarcely makes William the strategist in all of this – and therefore not in my mind, the killer of the Moth. That one sat in his Royal Box snoring gently throughout the performance. He ought surely to be the target of Spandrel assassins and vengeful Shangs. I will bring this declared vengeance against my cousin William to a close and use the Opera to make the Order mindful of the circumstances of the Moth’s demise. If the narrative of the Opera is true Ascaris saved William from the Abyss – whereas Magnus failed to rescue his own mother. I shall persuade the Order to assist with action against the perpetrator – one Augustus Swayvill.

There was more drama in between Acts. Bo of Shang attacked William on his way to the stage in an attempt to kill the Moth’s murderer! William, with a slight arm wound, took his part on stage and played himself caught up in a duel with Tybalt of Diptera. This was the magic in this place and it was then that I first heard mention of the Logrus – a Power of Chaos which I suppose is the opposite, and in opposition to, the Pattern of Amber. Their respective Powers were icons on the uncovered bucklers of Tybalt and William. Tybalt started the action and William comprehensively finished it. Both were gathered up in folds of black cloth which drew them physically and metaphysically into the darkness of the Abyss.

The Opera soon inveigled itself in our reality. I was back on stage as Skuld, as was Darig, playing the Portent Phantom. There was no sign of the fat lady waiting to sing. The Emperor became aware of his surroundings and responded with some excitement to Darig’s three verses – which ended with ‘Die with my dagger in your eye!’ That was the signal for a commotion. Swayvill called loudly that the phantom had not told the truth and demanded Darig’s tongue removed. Darig was a little exposed dangling mid air over centre stage in his harness – and he was rescued by a mis-shapen black figure that promptly ripped Darig from his harness, cried ‘Anctuary’ and flew up and away with him. There was a great feeling that this was not scripted.

Someone had the sense to Trump Darig and he was found to be in a Sanctuary within the Duomo. Unharmed and certainly safer than suspended above a stage about to be invaded by demons. Provisions were passed through to him to better enable him a more comfortable night after a performance that nearly brought the Royal Box down. I wondered again who had written the libretto – and if were Dworkin and Suhuy, exactly where they were at this moment of triumph – for truly the critics will talk for ever more about their work in an Opera that has always been there.