A Clandestine Meeting of the Interminably Lachrymal Order of the Deniable Moth

Pt 2: Ubermeister

The frost demon answers, “You were just saying that Eiferer had your permission and was not alone…” He sounds, amazed, shocked even, and intrigued.

“Please do go on, Ubermeister. I have only partial knowledge of this event,” Constance requests.

Similar sentiments echo around the room; the balrog smiles broadly.

“This Order is dedicated to the memory of the Deniable Moth. In theory I shouldn’t have to say that but it seems to me some of us may have forgotten our origins and reason for being.

“As you all should know, we have set ourselves the noble cause of championing and avenging those subdued or slain by treachery, to seek justice where justice turns her blind eyes away. But this lesser goal, while noble and virtuous, is just a sublimation of our fundamental purpose.

“The circumstances of the demise of our matron are, as we have just heard, shrouded in mystery. Propaganda aside, our Order has always held two individuals culpable, for quite separate, but I suspect ultimately connected, reasons.

Constance watches for reactions. Who is neutral, surprised or smug at this information and the revelations to come?

For the moment most of the Order seem merely curious, though once again Constance finds Hartmann and Grossehinrichtung hard to read.

“Those persons are; Lord William of Amber, who has made no secret that it was his wielding of Amber’s Eidolon that destroyed the Kaiserin’s house so completely and utterly…”

Constance notices the angel’s jaw sets in determination. She also thinks the gazes of the vampiress and the frost demon meet briefly before returning to the balrog. She maintains a neutral composure, listening and watching.

“The second name has already been bandied about at this meeting, but our reason for including his name is quite different to that given by some of our more gullible brethren… I speak, of course, of our illustrious sovereign.”

Rachael still seems very determined and Constance catches a glimpse of a smile before she suppresses whatever emotion caused it. Most of the rest simply frown in puzzlement.

Blitzstrahl asks the question on everyone’s lips, “So, if there is no evidence to suggest the High King was involved in the Moth’s death – aside from the opera’s ridiculous propaganda – how can we hold him culpable?”

Constance senses that actually not quite everyone thinks the same question: the vampiress already knows the answer, as does Ariel and the butterfly.

She waits for Ubermeister’s answer and observes the responses from the rest of the Order.

“It is not widely known, for I believe the Royal Coalition has suppressed the knowledge, that the Deniable Moth was, in fact, our monarch’s mother, by a previous marriage.” Ubermeister grins. “In this, the recent opera was entirely correct – I have had it confirmed by contacts in House Mansa, who have made much study of ichor-lines, ancestry and patterns of descent.”

The frost demon nods, as if this explains something that had puzzled him. But Hartmann seems nonplussed and some others seem to think this raises more questions than it answers.

It’s Dolchstoss who raises his voice first, “But Ubermeister, your words make no sense… I mean,” he continues, flustered, “that if this is true, surely His Majesty would have exacted revenge under the rules of the ichor-feud?”

“Yes, you would think so, wouldn’t you?” Ubermeister grins, wickedly. “I would; I know you would; I imagine we all would – even those from far away…” he glances at Constance, “it seemed unlikely to me too.”

“How came you by this knowledge?” asks Hartmann.

“It is the deepest mystery of our Order, handed down to each Ubermeister in turn by writ.”

Elephant-head can’t resist asking the obvious, “Why has this never been shared with the rest of the Order?”

“Because it has never been politic – do you think we could have won our Royal charter from a monarch against whom we pledge vengeance?”

Suddenly the penny drops for several around the room.

“So, now that he has rescinded…?”

“Exactly!” beams Ubermeister.

Constance raises a considered eyebrow. “Could someone please explain to me what the ichor-feud is please? And, Ubermeister what thoughts can you share around methods and timings when we act against His Majesty?”

The vampiress turns to Constance and grins, showing her fangs, “You would say ‘blood’, but we of the Courts have a wider range of fluids in our veins”.

“You wouldn’t want to sup from mine, I assure you,” grins the balrog, “But Zerstörer you are ahead of yourself.”

“Your pardon, Ubermeister,” Constance replies but Ubermeister waves the apology off, it’s of no consequence.

“You still haven’t told us about Eiferer?” observes Eisigenrache.

“Indeed!” agrees Ubermeister. “Eiferer joined the Order along with several of you, replacing knights lost in recent actions. His intensity had struck me from the first so I was not entirely surprised when he came to me, speaking of ‘visions’. He claimed to have been personally contacted by a spirit whom he believed to be the ghost of our matron, the Deniable Moth herself. He claimed it was she who had urged him to join our Order and that she was driving him to avenge her against those responsible for her plight.

“Now of course I was doubtful, but it so happens that the parchment describing our innermost mysteries, for the eyes of the Ubermeister alone, describes a spirit exactly matching the description Eiferer gave – furthermore he was able to make her manifest in our sanctum-sanctorum for the briefest of moments, long enough to assure me that she, stronger now for some unknown reason than she’s been in… aeons, would personally aid Eiferer in his endeavour.

“Of course Eiferer had no knowledge of our second object of vengeance, but it seemed to me that, with careful handling, the situation could be made to play into our hands, and even test the secret knowledge in the parchment.”

“So she assisted the Chosen one, Eiferer, in some way during the Opera, and yet Lord William survived his attack?” Constance comments quietly, “That seems remarkable, Ubermeister.”

Ubermeister shrugs. “These things cannot be known until put to the test. That it cost us Eiferer is neither here nor there; he was a trouble-maker and we’re well rid of him. But that’s by-the-by; the important thing is that it proves our matron is, as she claims, stronger than she’s ever been and capable of affirmative action.”

“Have you been graced by a visitation by the Moth, Ubermeister?” Constance inquires. Ubermeister smiles – he seems a very happy individual. Constance raises an inquiring eyebrow but he doesn’t seem inclined to elaborate. “Are you able to tell us more about the Moth, or your strategies to achieve our aims Ubermeister?” Constance asks politely.

“Next time we will act in concert. We have failed twice now, but three times is a charm.”

“By next time, you are referring to Lord William of Amber. What moves are planned against His Majesty, Ubermeister?”

Ubermeister looks round the Order, most of whom seem as astonished as he at the question. “Act against His Majesty? Are you mad?” He looks back to Constance. “He’s in his dotage, and protected by our oaths of fealty; why should we do anything when Amber will do it for us?”

“Goodness! Will we?” Constance contrives to look surprised at this revelation. “You must tell me when we are due to undertake it so I can be sure to be there!”

The vampiress grins, “Why else are you here, darling?”

“I’m sure we’re happy to leave the time and place to you,” remarks the frost demon.

“Yes,” interjects Dolchstoss, who aught to know, “the assassin chooses.”

“I am sure they do Dolchstoss,” she says with a slight smile. “But assassins also have knowledge of their victim’s movements, protections and environment. Or so I am told. What can my fellows tell me?”

“Do you think any of us have commerce with the King in Yellow?” Ubermeister sounds quite disgusted at the mere thought.

Eisigenrache agrees, “The High King has never liked us…”

“Why should he?” the vampiress asks rhetorically.

“The King in Yellow?” Constance shakes her head sorrowfully. “I am from a very long way away. Could I beg your collective indulgence for a history, or perhaps an explanation of the title ‘King in Yellow’?”

Ubermeister looks nonplussed, searches around the Order for enlightenment and finally shrugs. “…Because the first was called the King in Yellow and so all his successors since?”

“Where would we be,” asks elephant-head, “if we had to have a reason for everything?”

A very genuine laugh comes from Constance in response. “You are quite right. It would sometimes be quite nice to give that answer to my men.” She pauses thoughtfully. “Tell me though. What will happen when His Majesty dies? Who in Chaos stands to profit. And who will fall with him in influence if naught else?”

“What will happen?” repeats Ubermeister, and a beatific smile lights up his eyes, “Why… Chaos!” Someone giggles.

“During which there will be a new King, or Queen, maybe?” she asks, ignoring the giggler.

“Mmm?” Ubermeister pulls himself back from viewing some inner vista of the imagination, thinks for a moment and shrugs as the beatific smile dies. “How should I know?”

Eisigenrache, who suddenly sounds a lot more worldly than Ubermeister, decides to clarify things just a little, “In the past, a new monarch has tended to impose some…”, he struggles to find an appropriate term, eventually settling with some distaste on…, “…order on things – those few that don’t tend not to last long.”

“They get replaced by those that do,” comments the statue. Ubermeister nods mournfully in agreement.

“There will be considerable fallout then, Eisigenrache. How have the Houses managed to avoid the worst of it?”

Eisigenrache looks around at his fellow knights and shrugs, “Who knows? It was a long time ago; few now remember.”

Constance considers further. “In Amber, such an act would result in a Blood Curse on the assassin or assassins. Would something of a similar nature be inflicted on those of Amber here? You must have some sense of repercussions beyond half the Demons of Chaos descending upon us.”

“What do we know or care what happens in Amber?” Todmaschine’s robotic voice nonetheless sounds dismissive.

“You have sworn no oaths to His Majesty,” assures Eisigenrache, “and all the demons of the Royal House will become unbound upon his demise.”

She considers. “This is a weighty matter indeed. I will discuss this concept with Prince Caine. If Amber accepts we will want assurance of something in return. I can think of two possible favours immediately. I will report back to you all when I have some terms to put forward. Is this acceptable Ubermeister?”

Ubermeister shrugs, “What is it to do with us? Who you speak to or what you say, it’s of no moment to the Order.”

“I thought we were here to discuss the killing of Lord William?” Wunderschontod sounds frustrated.

Constance turns to the balrog. “Ubermeister, what has given the Moth the... power, or perhaps desire, to return now and speak direct to those who seek her revenge?”

He shrugs, “Who cares?” He frowns at Constance as if she’s an irksome gnat. “Why do you need reasons for everything?” Without waiting for a reply, Ubermeister shakes his head and looks round the rest of the Order. “Your reminder is welcome, Wunderschontod – we must prepare ourselves for our task. Our most fearsome warriors shall wield the blades: Eisigenrache, Grossehinrichtung, Dolchstoss and Blitzstrahl. The rest of us will take support roles.”

Constance can tell that Rachael, as you might expect, finds all this horrifying. The vampiress, the frost-demon and Blitzstrahl all stir uncomfortably. The cyborg and butterfly are practically vibrating with excitement. The rest seem more neutral – with the usual hard to read exceptions.

Constance remains in her seat. Her face is composed but there is a slight frown. She watches the neutrals for their response.

“Where?” asks Todmaschine.

“When?” asks Wunderschontod.

Ubermeister smiles. “There’s to be a ball, in honour of our guests. Everyone must be there. And we will be expected to mix. With a little artful choreography, we can ensure that at least one of our blades is within reach of him at all times. The support personnel will need to keep him in view, deflect attention and separate others who may intervene.”

“And the Moth?” asks the vampiress. Constance notices Rachael stiffens slightly at the question. Everyone else seems to be waiting.

“Ah! She will manifest at the appropriate moment, causing Lord William to be distracted…”

Someone clears their throat; to Constance it sounds rather theatrical, intended to draw attention to the owner of the throat, but she’s not sure how many others realise this. She’s sure Ubermeister doesn’t but she sees the vampiress smile fleetingly and Ariel’s eyes narrow as they gaze out of the mini-lightning storms. The owner of the throat is Rachael…

“Are we to understand then, that it will be the Deniable Moth who initiates the action? Just as it did with Eiferer?

“Yes!” beams Ubermeister, expansively. “But ‘deniable’ no longer.”

Rachael laughs. It’s a laugh of gay innocence, utterly in keeping with Rachael’s angelic form. It’s the sort of laugh a small girl might make having just pulled the wings off a fly…

“Then I must warn you that I have already encountered this ghost and driven it from his presence.” Constance feels a shift in tension within the room with Ariel, the vampiress and the frost demon visibly relaxing. Blitzstrahl is suddenly smiling quite broadly. “You know what I am; I do not think it will dare cross him again and I shall be dancing with Lord William all night.”

The balrog’s face falls in dismay. “What?” Constance thinks he’s trying to bellow but it comes out as a plaintive bleat. Todmaschine and Wunderschontod aren’t so overwhelmed.

“Traitoress!”

“Turncoat!”

Constance looks at Rachael and inclines her head very slightly in approval.

Ubermeister’s fury is gathering visibly. “You allow your liaison with the enemy to come before your bond to the Order…?”

“I joined the Order out of a fascination for the myths and legends of the Deniable Moth. I was, and am, prepared to weep tears for her and champion the downtrodden in her name but I will stand against the Order in this misbegotten crusade.”

“She’s not the only one,” smiles the vampiress, slyly.

“Nachtherrin,” Wunderschontod’s voice is bitter, “your… attachment to Sir Merlin of Sawall is a matter of salacious rumour, but do you also turn against your Ubermeister, the Order and Chaos itself?”

“Believe, butterfly!”

Constance glances at Ariel and raises an eyebrow.

Ariel nods infinitesimally back. “Aahm! I do not think the stances of Nachtherrin and Strahlendflieger are necessarily anti-Chaos. After all, Hartmann made a good point earlier – with his recent decision, the High King has made it clear that sanctions against Lord William are a breach of the truce.”

“What are you saying, Vorneweg?” asks Hartmann.

“He’s saying,” interjects Eisigenrache, “that it’s a question of where we place our loyalty: to Chaos, to our sovereign, to the Order… or to our Ubermeister…”

Constance nods her head slightly in agreement. It resonates with her.

Hartmann nods appreciatively, “Well I think everyone here understands that I am broadly in favour of sanctions, provided they are at the appropriate moment.”

“If our High King had any wits or guts he’d have killed Lord William aeons ago – it is from his recalcitrance that his culpability arises. Yet you would allow the pronouncement of the High King to come between us and our apotheosis?”

“This is not abnegation, Ubermeister,” explains Eisigenrache, “merely the delaying of the ultimate sanction to a more appropriate moment – until after the funeral – this would offer many advantages, not least in how our Order would appear in the Thelbane.”

Constance becomes steadily aware that the phrase ‘ultimate sanction’ has a significant meaning for some of the Order, including Ariel, Rachael, the vampiress, the lizard-man and perhaps the butterfly, who suddenly flutters his wings. That it didn’t strike her immediately suggests that those in the know were pre-warned and have deliberately restrained their reactions.

This meaning others seem to miss, among them Ubermeister, who licks his fiery lips. “I want to know how many of the Order are behind me. I want a show of hands…”

“Very well,” comes in Ariel smoothly, “we are to vote on the issue of the ultimate sanction…”

“We can leave issues regarding timing for later discussion,” Eisigenrache nods to Hartmann. Ariel uses this distraction to catch Constance’s eye and nod infinitesimally – Constance may be wrong, but Ariel seems to want her to vote for the motion.

Constance returns his nod just as quietly and watches.

Ariel raises his hand and Constance’s eyes follow around the circle. Hartmann and Todmaschine raise their hands. Rachael does not but exclaims with dignity, “You all know where I stand on this issue”.

Beyond her, Blitzstrahl raises his golden hand, followed by Wunderschontod, who raises his only very reluctantly. Skipping over Eiferer’s vacant stall and the door, Dolchstoss snaps a hand to the vertical, followed by Grossehinrichtung and Nachtherrin.

Only Constance left, and Ubermeister, of course…

Constance turns her gaze on Ubermeister, looking for his response to the turn in events before she follows Ariel’s lead.

Ariel doesn’t wait for Ubermeister to vote (perhaps Ubermeister only votes to break a tie) before declaring, “Yes, well that is unanimous then.” Ubermeister seems to have recovered some of his bonhomie and strangely no one seems to notice that the vote is not quite unanimous.

“It’s been a difficult session,” observes Eisigenrache, “but I think we’ve resolved some pertinent issues. I move that we adjourn. The more senior members can discuss issues of when, where and how informally and we’ll meet again to formally decide affirmative action.”

Ubermeister nods decisively, “So be it!” and rises from his chair. Others also stir from their seats. Rachael looks grim but determined; aside from her Constance gets the strange feeling that many of the Order are trying to ‘act normal’.

Constance retains her seat, watching for smaller groups forming in the chamber. She will try and catch Rachael’s eye to give her a quizzical look mouthing ‘later’ if she believes she is not being observed.

By remaining in her seat Constance guarantees losing sight of everyone on the other side of the room as almost everyone else has invaded the open space in the centre. She hears Ariel, who has also remained in his seat, ask Ubermeister if the senior members might not discuss a few salient points now and the balrog’s bulk blocks her view of Hartmann and Todmaschine as he swivels to face Ariel, “Hmph! Why not?”

The vampiress also hears this and crosses in front of Constance to fit her petite form between Ubermeister and Ariel, further blocking Constance’s vision to the left. By now the frost demon is on the other side of Ubermeister, more or less in front of Constance.

Then Constance spies Rachael on the far side of the room talking to Blitzstrahl and elephant-head. Todmaschine and the butterfly are in another corner on the far right, by the door. The lizard-man stands before his stall, seemingly undecided which group to join.

Something tells Constance that she should probably be regarded as a ‘senior member’ since she outranks Eisigenrache, who is in the ‘senior’ group, but no one seems to expect her to join them. Absolutely no one so much as glances at her. It’s as if she’s ceased to exist.

Constance doesn’t take offence, appreciating the fact that she is decorative in the Order. She stands and moves over towards the undecided reptile.

“Ah, Zerstorer!” Dolchstoss greets Constance, seemingly delighted to be approached by her. “We were interrupted earlier, but please understand that I and House Spandrell would be delighted to take a commission from you or His Royal Highness.”

Constance notices that Dolchstoss is one of these people who can’t help flicking their gaze around and behind you while talking to you, constantly breaking eye contact. That habit and his reptilian visage give him a very shifty feel – but then his profession is assassin so perhaps that’s to be expected.

Constance smiles in response to his greeting. “Dolchstoss. Thank you for your offer. I will be sure to mention it to the Family when next we gather. I wanted to express my sorrow that your House is to face exile for following orders.”

“Oh please do not worry about that. Our House has been exiled oft before but our qualities are too widely appreciated for such punishment to last long.

“And please do not believe for an instant that I, or any of my House, bear any ill-will toward Amber or Lord William for the death of Dimitas – such stuff is the matter of our profession.”

Constance responds with a slight smile and a nod. “Amber will pleased to learn of this. I fear I have heard quite enough about vendettas and revenge for deeds done in the far distant past to last me a...” she pauses, “...considerable time!”

“Really? How fascinating! Here no noble education is considered complete without a good working knowledge of poisons and the means of delivering them.”

“Ahhh, I can see Strahlungflieger. Dolchstoss, would you care to continue our conversation nearer to my cousin to be? Please say yes!” She smiles an enchanting smile to the reptile.

“If it would delight you to hear me say ‘yes’ I can do so, but I think I would be doing you, and Strahlungflieger, a disservice if I encouraged you to attempt social intercourse. If perhaps you find the subject of venoms tedious we can discuss something else… do you like music?”

“Oh no disservice! Knowledge is seldom tedious and usually very necessary in my experience but that was in Arden and not in Amber. My Lord Warden would insist on my complete education including common poisons and their treatment. But I do love music. Perhaps too much – unless I am wary it might almost lead me dancing astray.” She smiles. “What music do you like?”

Dolchstoss beams delightedly, “There are more musical forms here than there are houses and I dislike none of them. Did you know that, among our many other attributes, House Spandrell is famed for our dancing?”

As he talks, he produces five or six pieces of metal tubing and assembles them to make something that looks like a flute but it’s played straight, like a penny-whistle or a reed instrument, though Constance can see no reed. It has intricate levers operating stops down the instrument and a strange bulge under the mouthpiece, about the size and shape of a man’s finger with its own thumb-operated lever.

“This is a kaval; allow me to demonstrate…”

“Please do,” Constance replies.

Holding the instrument low in the limited space available, Dolchstoss plays a short, playful melody and then a series of quick ascending notes that to Constance’s ear sounds like a practice. Then there’s a short break as he jiggles it slightly and works the intricate stops, perhaps to remove moisture.

Then he moves into something quick and inventive, a Chaos melody that changes its beat every few bars. In all but the most highly accomplished musician it could easily descend into a mess but Dolchstoss is very accomplished indeed and takes the tune through several variations. Constance hears a sort of drone underneath everything and realises the instrument must have a bleed off the main air-channel. The thing it resembles most closely might be jazz, if Constance has travelled far enough to hear such.

Past Dolchstoss, Constance sees the cyborg, butterfly, elephant-head, Blitzstrahl and Rachael look over briefly from their respective groups at the source of the music; Rachael smiles absently and begins tapping a hand against her thigh in time as she returns to her conversation. The music drowns out all noise of talk but Constance can feel the heat of Ubermeister’s bulk right behind her.

After a couple of minutes, Dolchstoss has lost himself in the music and he’s swaying his head from side to side and moving the instrument up and down. Then, leaning back to give himself room, Dolchstoss brings the instrument up as he brings the melody to a climax before the end.

By now the kaval is pointing at her nose and Constance is looking down the length of the instrument. Dolchstoss’ thumb is on the lever by that strange bulge. Then the lizard-man winks. Suddenly Constance thinks it’s an excellent moment to duck…

Constance pivots away gracefully but at speed in response to Dolchstoss’ wink. As she turns away, the tune reaches its climax but the melody is interrupted by the faintest of clicks as Dolchstoss activates the thumb-key, followed by a soft ‘phht’ noise as something whistles past her ear. Strangely these sounds seem to fit in with the tune.

“Argh!” exclaims Ubermeister, raising a hand to the back of his fiery neck as he turns to see his assailant, “it burns!”

“To return to our earlier subject…,” comments Dolchstoss calmly, as he begins to disassemble the kaval.

“Damn you, Spandr…” begins Ubermeister, but gets no further as the dark fires of his head suddenly brighten and erupt into fierce flames.

“…the use of poisons is a subtle art,” continues Dolchstoss as Ubermeister turns into an eight-foot roman candle and everyone takes two steps back to avoid the heat. “Those without subtlety resort to protease or one of the other venoms with a broad application.”

By now Ubermeister has burned down to the chest. Bright sparks fly up to the ceiling, leaving scorch marks on the stone, but there’s hardly any smoke at all.

“But when the subject is in a crowded room, where there’s a danger of hitting the wrong person, even the assassin himself, it is better to select a more specific agent – one with effects peculiar only to the subject.”

The flames burn down the legs, which do not buckle…

“In this instance,” continues Dolchstoss, as if lecturing to a class, “the obvious toxin is pyroxin, which has the virtue of untaming the inner fires of a being of elemental nature.”

The fires burn down to Ubermeister’s feet and with twin phuts a couple of bright flares end the fireworks.

“As you can see, it is effective, but had the dart hit any of the rest of us, a mild burning rash would have been the lone symptom, vanishing in but a short while.”

Utter silence reigns as the entire Order admires the scorch marks on the floor and ceiling. Hartmann stamps out a few errant sparks with his stony feet.

Constance studies the scene for a long number of seconds, her expression schooled to absolute stillness. She seeks some sense of whom in the Order didn’t know of these actions in advance.

As ever, Hartmann and elephant-head are too hard to read but Hartmann is certainly taking things in his stride. Todmaschine is also hard to read but Constance gets the feeling he didn’t know it was coming and is now, obviously, wondering where he stands with the Order.

Constance is also sure that Wunderschontod was not party to what must have been a pre-planned action, obviously triggered by the code phrase ‘ultimate sanction’, but he apparently twigged during the vote.

Whether the others knew this was going to happen this session or not, it is quite clear that they understood what would happen when Eisigenrache uttered the phrase.

“What a horrible person!” comments the vampiress.