A Cure for Melancholy

A personal prayer to the Unicorn from Constance, daughter of Julian, pt 15

I woke from an uneasy dream: a nightmare environment and, although I ran and ran and ran, I wasn’t getting anywhere. I know that our time to leave the Courts is very near and my intuition is warning me just how hard the journey will be. Two things worry me. Am I physically up to it? I have had precious little strenuous exercise whilst I’ve been here and, when we get there, what exactly will we find there? How fares my home of Arden? Or, maybe my intuition is saying stop wasting time and get on with this journey!

I washed and dressed and ate but a small meal. I formally thanked Prospero for his hospitality and left with Ariel and Podaga to a meeting of the no longer banned Order. We all gathered. Merlin looked as though he had sucked lemons and gave me a filthy look. Nachtherrin announced that the Order now legally existed again and that we would soon be leaving Chaos. Privately she handed me Merlin’s now completed Trump of me, which explained his humour. He too had been obliged to show obedience to the Head of the Order.

Nachtherrin told me that they all had the means to travel but it was important that communication channels remained open. I was one of those channels and every single member had a copy of my Trump adding that members of the Order hated me but they remained determined to leave and that I was a part of that even if they all had the means to cross Shadow. Much as Merlin’s portrait of me is remarkable in all ways, I found myself wishing that there weren’t quite so many copies of it about.

I travelled on to observe the magical duel between my cousin Margrath and Aelfric – the idiot who challenged him. I sought William, naturally, and wished him joy of his nuptials later this day. He shared other news with me. The head of House Groan is dead. Amblerash is no longer a Rimlord House and has been replaced by Jensen. The Serpent is no longer recognised as the religion of the Courts and Melvyn has yet to decide with what to replace it. I toy with the idea of suggesting the Unicorn to Melvyn but that would probably be a step too far. Instead I mention the Wheel – that which is acknowledged by House Pheon. It may suit the new King of Chaos.

William also mentioned a number of people had died mysteriously at the fangs of smokey dogs that appeared from nowhere. William gave me a meaningful look and I raised an eyebrow. All the houses named were involved in the theft of Grandfather’s coffin. Grandmother has been very busy indeed! Finally there is news that Melvyn intends to increase the number of Minor Houses in Chaos, which means upward movement for 5 of the Ixtramurini Houses thus, an opportunity to pay my debt to Tubal. I also decide to nominate Kuntskabinett. Their skills and connections might well benefit my cousin. This also explained the letter I had received from House Ophir recommending House Papilio to be raised. They had unsubtly copied it to My Lord Warden but it is difficult to recommend someone or something without knowing what it is I could recommend about them. Later, I discovered that we were all under a similar expectation from our parent.

In the matter of the duel between my cousin Margrath and the over-reaching Chaosian, Chaos was served up an object lesson in why they should not challenge a member of Amber. I am not experienced in magic and particular when it is practiced by my talented cousin Margrath. We met to observe in the Opera House (which cousin Melvyn has re-established). I bade my Lord Warden good morning and then joined cousin Darig. Margrath looked quietly confident to my eyes and from the opening attack ripped his opponent apart. It was over very quickly. I heard mention of a Ty’iga but was no wiser as to his means of victory. Darig mentioned that he’d like a meeting with Lord Torc and I was happy to enable that both Darig and I would know more of our mothers and the circumstances of our births.

We cousins then met with Melvyn at Bru-na-Boine to discuss our recommendations for the new Minor Houses to Melvyn. Both of my nominations were agreed to and I was quietly pleased about this; still they were only nominations but I hope Melvyn considers them. That he even asked for them is a compliment to us and another indicator of his maturity. I observed inwardly that in this I had directly acted in my interests as Constance rather than in those of my Lord Warden and his host House Ophir. I did propose Papilio but in truth did not feel sufficiently impassioned to press their nomination.

Darig and I went to visit Prince Caine. Given that my father refused outright to discuss what had happened in Faerie and the intelligence I had drawn from Flora, Prince Caine was our only other potentially reliable source of information. Prince Caine leaves me flustered and embarrassed with consummate ease even on a fair day. This wasn’t a fair day. He eventually stated that Julian or maybe Corwin was my Father and then said something so minor but so appalling to my sensibilities that I flushed bright red and just fled leaving Darig to it. I waited outside trying to collect myself and find a demon to take me to Podaga when Dirk appeared at my side offering solicitations within the snark. I was pleased to retreat to Pheon and changed for Grandfather’s funeral.

This was an affair of State. Seraph led the ceremony – one of grandeur, circumstance and sadness in mixed measure. For a man I had barely known he had affected me greatly. He had achieved so much as a man and as King and I had done little more than fight beside him on one occasion. But I had grown up with the stories from my Father – which in fairness were not always good stories – and the stories told to me by my nurse – in which Oberon was a thing of legend. He was a creature of legend and he had passed and I felt inexorably sad for it and a loss for not having known him, really at all.

I was told to dress brightly and I did. Still in my customary greens and violets in a dress of beauty that I had glamoured about me in my chambers. I loved Prince Caine’s valediction and the words of our Horned Lady which he spoke so fairly and listened and observed before speaking publically of my personal feelings of loss, just the security of knowing that he fought at my side on the last occasion we met.

After Prince Caine's opening, Cymnea spoke of her late husband – and I think perhaps of her great love – and after her spoke the Princes and Princesses of Amber with the exception of his eldest surviving son, Prince Benedict. William spoke though I cannot remember if any of our cousins did so.

My Lord Father said, “People ask, ‘Did you love your father?’ but most people don’t know the meaning of the word. When I was young I did not love my father. But I obeyed him. Because I was obedient, Dad made me Warden of Arden. That taught me duty. And out of duty grew love.”

At the end, the unexpected: my Lord Father and Prince Benedict lifted the coffin and Her Majesty pushed it into the abyss, whereupon it was swooped upon by dragons who called him father and flew upward with their burden until they were beyond our sight. Oberon was no more.

A change of wardrobe and we again gathered with Melvyn but this time to discuss his future bride. I saw him glance almost longingly towards Sorashi. Could he marry for love as William had just done? Would he even have the option of choosing his wife, or had that decision already been made by the figures behind him? Or would he marry an equal, someone to help him rule these houses and build the Courts into something of his own? I could not recommend any choice and I do not envy his choice in any case. William had taken the opportunity to marry whom he wished to. A clever move and one I doubt I will ever have the opportunity to emulate.

Next on this busy social day was the wedding of William to his Rachel, a thing of wonder and beauty with the bride at her radiant best. The sense of love between them was palpable and a cure for my melancholy after Grandfather’s funeral.

After the ceremony there was much dancing and therefore an opportunity to converse in private. Torc was my first dance partner. I like dancing with him. It is a thing of joy and an opportunity for me to pass him Merlin’s Trump of me and to warn him to be so very careful as he took his glamoured place among the Rangers. He in turn told me that Laird Tobias still kept to his chambers, his screaming indicative of his pain at my hand. I should be wary, Torc told me carefully, as Tobias has declared me his deadly enemy. I recalled the dream of the dead and dying UnSeelie Fae. More and more I am trusting my intuition that the airship’s attack disrupted an UnSeelie ambush and that I had been the target.

I thanked Torc and moved on to other dance partners including Uncle Bleys. To my shame I fibbed to him, claiming I could dance the Charleston. Of course I couldn’t. I’d never even heard of it before. He called me out on it and I turned to be seen to rip the front of my dress to an indecently short length and asked him to show me the steps. I have never been defeated by a dance. We danced the Charleston and I delighted in it. I saw my father glance over and his raised eyebrow at the new height of my hem! Uncle Bleys took the opportunity to warn me that under no circumstances was I to enter Faerie lest I cause another diplomatic incident. I doubt that we can bypass Faerie on the way home – so I will talk to him later when we come across that particular bridge but I do hope there has not been little fall out from House Unman for him to deal with.

I danced with Prince Brand. Again it was a means for direct communication, though my Uncle is a fine dancer indeed. It’s just that there is a general air of nervousness whenever he makes his presence known. During that dance I passed on my Lord Father’s agreement to the proposal in principle, together with his warnings over the limitations of the new Corpus. Prince Brand was at ease and seemed well aware of these limitations. I worry that my Uncle has already discerned a way to work around these limitations – or perhaps it was just his natural ability to disarm.

A rest – my last in House Pheon. Back into my uniform as I revert to my role as ADC to the Lord Warden of Arden, dressed in my standard greens with no Glamours whatsoever. A meal, maybe my last for some time. Goodbyes – especially to Ariel and Podaga and a genuflection at the Wheel before I left House Pheon for the last time. What will be the fallout of the departure of the Order from Chaos? – many young scions among the Houses. A swift trip with Podaga to visit the stables and supervise the activities of our Rangers who had been released from their long stasis. A piece of bridle tack was swiftly returned to one of Darig’s former command together with a swift apology. There was a touching reunion with a certain horse but we were mustering at speed. I mustered the Rangers in good order for their commander to inspect and awaited further command orders. We would move forward, my Lord Father said, with he and I sharing the command of scouting missions.

I am relieved to be going home. Whatever Home has become?