Long Live the King

A personal prayer to the Unicorn from Constance, daughter of Julian, pt 14

Breakfast, was as ever, with Lord Ariel. He was full of curiosity about the events at Vanguard. I confirmed that the attack had, like the theft from House Pheon, been an inside job. Mindful of Mandor I didn’t give the who but said it wasn’t Jurt and to be mindful of who wasn’t at the next official gathering. I emphasised that we had overwhelmed the attacking force with scarce an injury taken. Something unwholesome had been lurking just beyond the main doors but we’d been unable to track or identify it.

I was able to confirm that Melvyn of Barimen was likely to be Mandor’s preferred candidate and commented that there had been a developing maturity in him since his duel for Sorashi’s honour. Now he had attained his Lordship and had the required streak of Yellow, he was probably an attractive candidate. Adding that of course he was being tutored by Suhuy. Whether he accepted or not would depend on him – and Mandor’s powers of persuasion.

Ariel asked if Melvyn was likely to adopt the Unicorn religion and I could not answer him. We have had few conversations and certainly none on the topic of religion and somehow I suspect the influence of my Horned Lady has not moved beyond the Barimen cadet line. My Father disapproves of my expression of piety. Indeed, he seems to regard it something more befitting the rustics of Amber than his daughter. I will ask Melvyn or perhaps Dworkin about Melvyn’s religious bent, should I have the opportunity.

But Ariel’s question gave me leave to ask him about the Wheel that holds the respect of House Pheon. Ariel explained that although the Serpent was the official religion in the Courts, the worship of other deities was not banned and if I walked around the Duomo I could see for myself the large number of shrines dedicated to those other than the Serpent. This of course would not be tolerated in Amber so perhaps I could create a shrine to my Lady in the Duomo and her worship would spread to the Courts. I would pray on the matter. Ariel went on to say that the Wheel is not so much a deity but an acknowledgement of Fate. House Pheon is subject to the Wheel and as such the fortunes of the House may be up or down but surely, as the Wheel turns, so in turn do the fortunes of the House.

We discussed my plans for the day – sparring with Lord Havelock, I hoped, and I asked for a note to be sent to Lord Torc asking him to attend me. I asked if I could meet privately with Lord Torc. Ariel was concerned that I might mean Torc some harm and I, with surprise, said no. My displeasure had been with Laird Tobias, not Torc. Tobias got his just desserts and Lord Torc and I had come to an understanding – besides which, he was an Ambassador. Ariel pointed out that Unman would be well aware of his visits and would gossip. I cannot prevent that and he has already visited me here. Meeting with him elsewhere would be just as keenly reported and I was decidedly more safe within Stormguard.

I invited Lord Ariel to inspect my first work with Glamours within my chambers. It was the closest I could get to being home, my favourite glade with its nuance of colours and textures – a delight to all of my senses. Ariel was astonished and politely appreciative and then very uncomfortable. His memories of Arden were coloured by his experiences there which, I remembered him telling me, had included a manticore being shot from under him and crash-landing in a glade probably similar to the one he found himself in now. Out of respect I immediately removed all the Glamours from the Chamber.

Equally I was unsure of the effects of Logrus on Glamour and I certainly didn’t want to have to naturally recover the amount of energy I had put into this first work should Ariel be capable of dismissing it with Logrus. I emphasised that what he had seen shouldn’t be discussed with my family – specifically my Lord Warden. I added that other things were possible – and in a few moments Lord Ariel found himself facing Mandor. I smiled inwardly with delight as I explained that I had not thought as to how to imitate Mandor’s voice and manner of speech but Ariel was shocked and begged me not to do such a thing again. I acquiesced and suddenly, I was but Constance again.

As he was leaving I asked him a far more serious question. When the succession was settled and the wedding and funerals had taken place we would be leaving. Was it House Pheon’s intention to let us leave peaceably? Ariel stated that it was likely – and with that, he left my chambers.

Lord Torc attended me quite quickly afterwards. He assured me that his accommodation was still safe but I felt that, like me, he would be pleased when we could be on our way home. I asked him to resume his briefing of Faerie to me and he established the Courts and his place in them – with his reference to the Queen he is of the Seelie Court. I asked again about Garamond but there was not much to be gained about him on this occasion.

I asked him to spar with me so I could see how my style compared. I asked him how things were done in the Courts and I watched his practice blade become a sharpened thing of beauty. Glamours. Deadly Glamours. I asked him to remove it and he did. Our styles compared well and we are well matched. I distracted him with a well timed Word of Power and he found my blade suddenly at his throat. I had cheated! There we go.

I eventually asked him (again) for the name of my mother and he gave me the name Deichtine, mentioning that she had also been known as Verity. I know that Verity has a meaning of truth – a true principle or belief. Deichtine I do not know as a name or person but I will check with Darig and Prince Bleys and perhaps Dworkin. A woman described as a bad mother being named Verity is ironic. But what were my Father’s motives to label her a bad Mother? Frankly why should she solely be lumbered with an unplanned child and maybe, just maybe, she thought she was doing her best for me by removing me from Faerie. She did at least leave me where she knew I would be found. I asked him to describe her to me.

He looked at me, perhaps weighing me up and brought forth a likeness of her created using Glamour. I drank in that image. My head saying Torc could be lying and even as that thought arrived in my head it was followed by, but if she uses Glamour than she could look like anyone. But as I gazed my heart noted the colour and shape of her eyes, the length and style of her hair, albeit lighter than my own. I looked at her physique, her nose, mouth, cheek bones and passingly measured the quality and practicality of her armour. I wondered how she looked when she smiled. Who is this woman? Is she my mother? Torc eventually interrupted my reverie and, after a final attempt to fix her image in my mind’s eye I returned the image to him. I knew my Father’s opinion of her. When and if I finally met her – I would form my own!

In midst of our conversation, and in specific reference to my use of cold iron, Torc commented that I really wasn’t one of them, was I? He is right. Quite right. Faerie can’t trust me because I am an Amber half-breed and my Father – and probably the family – don’t trust me because I am a Faerie half-breed. Frankly, I fear that I don’t altogether trust me – or at least the Fey part of me – once I discover what that actually means. I feel very, very isolated and I noted that Torc surreptitiously sniffed his wine before tasting it. I am left feeling very fragile indeed.

I said that we would have to take considerable care when we left Chaos that he wasn’t uncovered. He inquired if I were planning to renege on my promise and I calmly denied the accusation. I had given Torc my word as the Warden of Arden’s ADC at the time of his indisposition and would hold to it. There might well be consequences on me – and on him. Torc said that he had diplomatic immunity and I said that I hoped that my Lord Warden would respect that and if not that he should appeal to Prince Bleys immediately. I like Torc a great deal, Fey Envoy or not, but that may have to end when we pass through Faerie. I also remembered that Torc had said his role as a courtier in Court was to be courteous. I should enjoy his company and conversation whilst I could. All things would doubtless change.

Torc left me and Ariel collected me for the first meeting of the Order with our new members. Merlin was clearly in the sexual clutches of Nachtherrin, though he had sufficient grace to blush slightly when she made several frankly unnecessary comments about her unclothed state when he’d attempted to paint her Trump. I frowned inwardly, deeply uncomfortable about her overt displays of lust and possession.

Stepping away from them I spoke with Lady Zae. She felt to me inexorably sad and troubled – perhaps distracted by something. She did not look likely to discuss it there and now but I will find an opportunity to speak with her – and perhaps Flora. Raffles was Raffles but without his mask. I really do hope that he isn’t more trouble than he is worth! I asked about his House. He would take me there but I would have to be blindfolded and I would not have my demon with me. I put my curiosity aside swiftly.

The three new members were welcomed and discussion soon turned to how the Order would leave the Courts. Merlin would be with his father and I would be with the Rangers. Contact might be difficult as the Order would shadow us but not be in physical contact. I have neither a trump of myself nor one of Merlin, so I asked Merlin if he could paint me (fully clothed, I found myself thinking) before we left, as well as giving me a copy of his own trump.

I was returning to Stormguard when I received my second ever trump call. Mentally bracing myself for a call from my Lord Warden, I was almost relieved to see Lord Havelock. He required my presence immediately in the Chapel Royal. I explained to my beleaguered demon where I was going and stepped through. Lord William and Cymnea were already there – Cymnea clearly angered. I realised why immediately. Our Grandfather’s sarcophagus was missing and around the plinth were the dismembered bodies of two Palace guardsmen and two demons; Grandfather’s former honour guard.

I set to immediately, using my senses and knowledge to read the scene and following their route of egress. Sorashi joined me and we found a short trail of about 8 bloodied foot, demonic, fish and skeletal tracks. Sorashi changed into a tiger and sniffed the trail ahead, periodically finding a small piece of green fabric. I glamoured armour on as a precaution but for what, I had little idea.

Thus we began the trail of the repeated tomb robbing. A cloth trail was being left for us by our not so dead grandfather. Havelock spoke with him by Trump and we moved with speed to the Whispering Bridge. More corpses had been decapitated here – but as well as blood there was blue ichor in the wounds and some of the organic remains appeared to have been eaten away – as if by an acid. Five of them – Chanicut (well I’d correctly identified that smell), serpent-men and a human with grey skin. Apparently Cymnea took the theft of her husband quite badly and had let out a blood curse.

I heard something whimpering under the bridge. It was a corpse-like creature. William reached down and hauled her up. She claimed to have been a member of the original tomb robbers (quite literally) whose intent was to tip our Grandfather’s body into the Abyss in revenge for his theft of the Serpent’s Eye. But the original group had been betrayed by Amblerash who intended to do something far darker with his body. More pointless vendetta, I found myself musing, as William removed her head from her body and tipped the body into the Abyss.

There had been a smell when we’d arrived at the bridge. I noticed it becoming more fearsome in its strength and sensed as much as saw something hound-like appear from within the smoke. All jaws with blue ichor dripping. I glamoured a broach into a shield and offered William some protective luck as the frankly indescribable thing launched itself directly at him.

Together with Darig’s spear and I suspect a spell from Cymnea they dispatched the thing. Then the full stench hit me and I was reduced to voiding the contents of my stomach. After his own bout of retching, my green-hued cousin Havelock made a trump call and a familiar sword was passed through to him. My cousins helped clean down William but the stench remained. Following my nose I traced it down to Darig and I retreated as he was cleaned down more thoroughly. We followed Cymnea’s directions (and the green trail) to the Duomo.

There we found the remains (well one still lived but sat with her guts in her lap) of more tomb robbers. Two Amblerash women, one Flense, two Alhazreds – and thus the unclean smell. The one still living claimed that they had sought to return the tomb and contents to the Duomo but had been betrayed.

I noted that the bodies had suffered rather more standard deaths than their predecessors – no blue ichor for a start and regular wounds, including a slashed throat. This last was certainly done from behind. She claimed that ixtramurini had stolen the sarcophagus. My eyes narrowed at that last statement. I was certainly aware of ixtramurini who were keen to obtain interesting items.

Grandfather’s trail ended at the Ways and we had no way of tracking him. Havelock again Trumped him and as he was aware that he’d been set down and that there was fighting around him, he and my male cousins judged that it was time for us to go to him.

Cymnea was determined to come through with us but was told to stay by Oberon. Havelock must have passed her his Trump as he came through. I followed Darig through and Grandfather acknowledged me with ‘the Faerie’ as I took his arm, passing through this intimate space into a moonlit alleyway. I stood next to a tall, familiar, male humanoid figure who, with his fellows facing outward from the sarcophagus, was squaring off against horned goat headed monstrosities. They, I was told, were ancient foes of Barimen. I gave Raffles a damn cold stare – hissed ‘idiot’ at him whilst swinging into an immediate attack against the thing facing us.

Neither Raffles nor I were quite good enough to get a decent hit on it. Ultimately, Grandfather came to our assistance. Fast, strong and so very effective, despite the fact he was supposed be dead and even though he was wielding a very light, almost feminine-looking blade.

The enemy either died or left at speed and we found ourselves collectively staring down members of House Kunstkabinett. William was keen on the idea of just slaughtering them out of hand. His plans were put on hold as Cymnea contacted Havelock who brought her through via his Trump. After a brief exchange the former Queen of Amber and her ex husband went off for what was going to be a long and private conversation.

I turned back to William, who still looked keen, to remove a few more heads from their shoulders. I directly intervened, as Raffles was a member of my Order, and turned to him demanding an explanation. This outlandish group included a blonde woman in a powder blue suit and a number of men who looked slightly unsavoury and had names like Penelope, Parker and Jack the Lad.

I again asked for an explanation. They claimed that they had infiltrated an Amblerash plot to use our Grandfather’s body to power a ritual to turn back time to the point where Amber had never existed. Their claimed interest was not in Grandfather’s body but in the potential favours they could gain for its return – a place in the Thelbane. Plausible to my mind. But stupid.

I turned on Raffles. He had seen me but very recently and had not seen fit to mention the Amblerash plot. He claimed he had given me a hint and then made a smirking remark about having been in my private chambers. His contradiction and smirk gained him a hard punch courtesy of William. Jack the Lad – the wielder of the razor – admired the future ‘shiner’.

We demanded a guard for the sarcophagus and with the arrival of Tradescant, their Master, who admonished them for getting into trouble, we were invited into Kabinett and I wasn’t required to be blindfolded!

Their House was crammed with treasures, literally crammed, and, after we were taken to view some of the more exotic treasures, we sat down and consumed the very best of their curated alcohol and spirits. We drank them with great appreciation of their fine quality but more so in petty revenge for their actions or inaction in the case of Raffles.  They were literally being made to pay where it hurt.

Sorashi and I went out to check if our Grandparents were nearly finished with each other and after briefly observing them sat hand in hand quietly talking under the light of the full Kunstkabinett moon we stepped quietly back to our cousins.

On our second investigation their business appeared finished. Cymnea looked wistful and Grandfather announced he was tired and needed to lie down. Reinstalled in his coffin, this was to be the last I ever saw of him. The Kunstkabinett grotesques (deformed creatures who appear to do much of the physical work) carried him back to the Chapel Royal and the new guards were re-set about him.

We were called immediately to the coronation of our Cousin Melvyn. Sorashi’s face had been badly bruised in the fight against the goat creatures and she seemed happy to accept my offer to cover the damage as sadly I could not heal it. Melvyn was surrounded by bodyguards at his request the Lords William, Havelock and Darig and the Princes Benedict, Corwin and Bleys.

Long live the King indeed! May the Unicorn guard him and bless him with strength, wisdom and confidence to rule this place.