A Cure for Melancholy
The ongoing tale of
Last days in Chaos
I wake from
unsettling and half remembered dreams to news that Melvyn or his advisors have
been busy overnight.
Amblerash is disavowed from the Rim; the Serpent is
not the chief god of Chaos and several senior Chaots
are dead, killed by smoky dogs. Grandmother smiles as I realise that most had
some connection to Oberon’s kidnapping or theft. House Jensen is to replace Amblerash and Melvyn seeks to widen the number of minor
houses and thus strengthen his support.
I wonder if this
new found competence is a function of assaying the Logrus, his natural talent
or Mandor’s influence? Perhaps a mixture of all three?
A letter from
Benedict asks me to suggest House McCaber should the
matter arise in conversation with the new High King. He gives no reason. I give
it a similar amount of thought.
As I dress I
riffle though the Trump deck that Havelock gifted to me – I can see all of my
cousins plus all of the Elders save Random, Gerard, Brand, Flora and Sand. I
must remember to gift him something in return.
DeLambre coughs quietly and passes me a note. Mandor wishes to speak with me. We meet in my quarters and
I send DeLambre for refreshments. Mandor
compliments me on my forthcoming wedding and asks to speak with DeLambre. I reiterate that the conversation will end when DeLambre wishes and he agrees. DeLambre
returns and we begin.
Mandor begins by posing a question. How did the
Ways of Diptera survive for so long following the
death of all of their House? Could it be that DeLambre was actually not a demon, but a scion of Diptera?
DeLambre’s pose shifts; a move readying him for
combat. I do not believe that Mandor saw, but I have
fought alongside my friend in a thousand, thousand battles and I knew. At that
point, I knew for sure. And if he struck Mandor, I
knew I would be by his side, and damn the consequences.
He speaks…
“I am DeLambre – I was… Lucanus of Diptera. When Ascaris gifted William to Diptera
as hostage, I took an oath to protect and educate the boy. I was there when
Tybalt and William had their spat, though I learned but recently that it was
all a plot by the late High King. At the time I thought it a chance fracas
between two young hotheads.
“I was moving to
intervene when William turned the fires of Amber’s Eidolon upon his foe, in
fear of Tybalt’s wielding of the Logrus. I could, perhaps, have saved some
others of my house but I was bound by my oath and in any case I did not realise
the utterness of the destruction. I left my house to
save themselves and made it my task to succour
William.
“William’s
demon, which I had bound to his service myself, died trying to save him. With
William unconscious, I reached out with the Logrus and plucked him from the
Abyss as all came apart around me. We were both hurt, but I remained conscious.
“I set myself
the task of nursing him back to health. I told myself that once that was done I
would seek revenge upon him for the destruction of my estate, my kaiserin, for my family.”
His eyes lock
with Mandor.
“But while I
bathed his fevered brow I saw that the destruction of my house was at mine own
door for failing to fulfil my oath to protect him. I realised that with Diptera smashed, other forces, Swayvil,
who would be king, and not least our kinsfolk in Ascaris,
would move to finish what had been begun, I then thought, by chance. So I took
the semblance of the dead demon I had bound to William, that
I might watch his back, invisible to the Thelbane,
but fulfilling my oath to protect and educate.
“And the Lords
of Chaos ignored me because I was but a demon. And William never treated me as
such. And I felt myself still bound by my oath.”
Mandor looks to me and asks, “Did you know of
this?”
With my eyes on DeLambre, I reply, “With my heart, if not with my head,
yes.”
He nods, and I
honestly believe he understands.
“He is safe, and
educated. And there is a new High King. Diptera could
rise again as a minor House, but with the support of House Sawall,
should you wish?”
DeLambre shakes his head. “I think not! Grateful
though I am for your attention, I have seen the Thelbane
from the underside and I have no wish to remain. If my lord is willing, I would
rather remain in his service. He has been overlong in this place. It is time we
both left?”
He looks at me
then, and I smile. “We have a universe to explore.”
He nods, and
turns to leave. “I will go and prepare your clothing for the duel, the funeral
and the wedding. You will wash in between the two?”
I grin and nod.
“I will. Thank you DeLambre.”
Mandor rises, and extends his hand to me. A
first, I think. I clasp his hand in mine.
“I assure you of
my discretion, Lord William. I will speak to no one of this until you allow
it.”
“There is only
one other person who we will speak to on this.”
He nods and asks,
“You will speak to her yourself?”
I agree. But I
am not sure he meant the same ‘her’ as me.
I wash and we
leave for the duel. It is held at the Opera, recently reinstated by Melvyn. The
supporters of Margrath far outnumber those of Aelfric – another sign of Amber’s
ascendance here? Are we ‘fashionable’?
This form of
duel requires people to stand in small circles, wave their hands and not touch
each other, so I find it difficult to assess who has the advantage – I am sure
this form of combat is as deadly as any other but I have no grounds for
comparison. Seeing Fiona and Llewella discussing the
combat I move to join them. Fiona expresses surprise that any man of Amber
would show an interest in sorcery but answers my questions.
Margrath has
summoned something powerful. “He has been trafficking,” notes Llewella. Fiona agrees, “A set up,” she says, “Aelfric is
toast. Margrath has a Ty’iga under his control”.
The shadow
crosses to Aelfric and covers him. It vanishes and Aelfric is left kneeling. A
thunderclap sounds and something jumps in his vicinity. Alefric
shudders and then keels over. Victory for Margrath is declared and they try to
save Aelfric’s life. Llewella and Fiona thought that
the power of the Ty’iga meant that Aelfric’s spell
was interrupted and struck back at him, poisoning him painfully, it seems.
Fiona offers that Margrath outclassed Aelfric as much as I would outclass Flora
– “On a battlefield of my choosing”, I reply.
Melvyn summons
the cousins to Brứ-na-Bóinne so off we go.
Is the summoning of a King more powerful than the request of a friend?
The place looks
bigger and more powerful, befitting his change in status. Loeg
welcomes us in and we head to the central chamber then off to one side where food
is laid out. Melvyn joins us, avoiding the high seat and sitting next to me.
“I need the
advice of friends,” he says. “I need to boost our numbers. Which amongst the Ixtramurini should I advance to be minor houses?”
Each of us
offers at least one name – all at the behest of someone and, surprisingly,
stating that to Melvyn in most cases. It seems we all respond as friends first
and as children of Amber second. Melvyn has earned our trust and we seek to
repay that. Even Dirk, under pressure, admits that we all have those who are
jerking our chains.
8 names have
been raised. Melvyn says he must promote 5. We discuss what we know, which is
little. I scrawl Tubal, Kunstkabinett and McCaber quickly. The rest I see no value in. He takes our
lists and thanks us, noting that the next thing he will ask of us is advice on
is a suitable bride for him. I catch him as we leave. “I owe you a debt.” I say,
and he replies, “And I you.”
I dig out the
card that was painted of me and pass it to him. “This will make it easier to
call on me.”
“I can call on
you to be my champion, once, unless it is against Amber, yes?”
I nod. “Yes. But
that does not have to be the only reason for its use.”
“I will miss my
friends. It is a shame that I cannot assign myself to be our ambassador to
Amber. Another role for me to fill. I think that the
gift I will give you will be similar to this, if that suits.”
I return to Ascaris and dress for the funeral, then make my way to the
Chapel. There is a new flag of Amber above the coffin. The room has grown in
size to accommodate the guests; family and representatives from Chaos and
ambassadors from the Far Realms.
Seraph
lead the ceremony; their ascendency apparent to all. Dworkin and Cymnea
speak next, with Cymnea speaking of her life-long love
for him. Constance speaks of his impact on us all and for a moment there is
silence. Others speak then, though Benedict refuses. Cymnea
asks if I have anything to say, so I stand. “Oberon sought to sow Chaos and
discord amongst his children, to strengthen them. He would be very proud of you
all.”
I wonder how
many of them realise that my words are not praise?
Conversations go
on around me but I ignore them until I am called to bear the coffin. Havelock
takes and draws the sword on top of the coffin; holding it firmly but obviously
not comfortable with it as a style. The sword pulses with reality. We progress,
surrounded by an honour guard, and wind our way through the Courts until we
reach the Whispering Bridge. Ludmilla’s head has been
recovered from the Abyss and placed in a niche and watches as we approach. We
stand as overhead three dragons – green, gold and black – fly in formation.
Caine stands at
the lectern and begins the ceremony. His words are clear and strong as he reads
from the old scriptures and delivers a sermon on Oberon’s service and duty to
Amber.
Benedict and
Julian lift the bier and Cymnea pushes the coffin
into the Abyss. As it tumbles away, the dragons swoop and catch it up. They
call him their father, and then fly upwards.
We visit the
huge statue to Swayvel’s ego and Havelock stabs it
with the sword that he carried at the funeral. It burns like iron filings and
the statue disappears, leaving us all covered in soot and cinder. Just as I set
out to return to Ascaris to bathe and prepare for my
wedding we are summoned to Melvyn again.
He faces the
same pressure I did – to marry and more, to marry to advantage. We discuss the
choices that have been put in front of him and Havelock lays the cards for him.
Melvyn should trust his instincts, but the choices he makes will lead him to
either a stable and loving relationship or to someone who will drive him to be
a manipulator. Either of those might serve him well for his position.
I finally return
to Ascaris and wash and dress. I pass Claideb to DeLambre and head to
the Duomo.
The building has
shifted again; the stained glass windows are covered in Angel motifs. As
Rickard and I approach the steps a flight of angels descend, forming an honour
guard to the door. They hold large feathers in their hands and ready them as
weapons as we approach. Rickard pales. “I had heard of this. They will expect
us to run the gauntlet as a haze.”
He moves towards
them at speed and in a crouch, taking a few buffets. But as he looks back and sees
that I have not sped up or ducked, he winces and then stands, waiting for me to
catch up. The feathers strike hard, but not to wound, and we walk through to
the nave.
We are greeted
by Seraphiel and Cymnea and
she passes our rings to Rickard. We wait no more than a few minutes before
Rachael descends from the ceiling, white wings beating slowly and joined by an
angel with grey wings and one with black and white, Oromiel.
She alights and
my heart rises. We smile at each other and music starts to play. Cymnea takes my hand and Oromiel takes
Rachael’s and places them in each other’s. My pulse quickens as our hands touch,
and I hope that hers do too.
Seraphiel begins speaking but, in truth, I am
focussed too much on Rachael to listen. We are asked to make our vows and
Rachael speaks first.
“I offer you my
wings. Will you be my shield?”
I reply. “With
your wings we will explore the universe. And you will find peace behind my
shield.”
The rings my
grandmother gave us are proffered – milk white jewels on a silver band. We
place them on each other’s hands, maintaining skin to skin contact throughout.
Oromiel pours us a goblet of wine, similar to that
which Rachael gave to me on the first time we spent together.
Rachael is the
first to speak. She says, “Oh, my beloved, fill the cup that clears Today of
past regret and future fears” and I reply “A loaf of bread, a cup of wine and
thou, and the universe is Paradise enough.”
I take a sip of
the wine and let its sweet and slightly bitter taste roll around my mouth. The
wine feels similar to other wines I have tasted in my heart’s presence, but
stronger, older. I hold the goblet gently and sip again. This is not a wine to
approach without caution.
Rachael and I
lock eyes, and toast each other, sipping for a third time. At that, Oromiel tips the rest of the ewer over us both and we gasp,
and then laugh for the joy of it. We are escorted through an honour guard of
the Order, led by Rickard, and the music as we leave plays colours and sounds.
To a great hall
for the party, and the hubbub becomes an overwhelming roar. Gifts are pressed
on us both with congratulations and advice showered from all directions. Cymnea’s rings, she tells us, will mean we will always know
where the other is. She also gives us Oberon’s gift; the deeds to a property in
Amber that will be our home, Willow House.
From Rachael’s
House the marriage contract: calligraphed
beautifully, and only annullable by God. I catch Cymnea’s
eye and wonder if that is Seraph’s clause, or hers?
Mandor presents us with two white horses for the
journey home; “They cannot fly, but they will allow you perhaps to keep
pace with your wife,” he grinned.
Benedict stomps
up. “I expect you to take up your position as ADC as soon as we prepare to
leave. Probationary, of course. And you’ll need to
improve your Pattern work. I’ll show you.” Rachael looks surprised but I
squeeze her hand and whisper, “This is his gift to me, expressed in his way.”
Caine is next,
and he addresses himself to Rachael, giving her a broach made of Unicorn Horn.
“Joining this family? You’ll need this at some point.” He looks over to me
then, and I nod my thanks.
Flora approaches
then, and says to Rachael – “At last someone in the family who knows how to
dress! You and I will have such fun! And William.” She
looks me up and down. “See how good you look with a little effort?”
She addresses
Rachael again. “My gift to you will be clothes that accentuate your beauty, and
to William, an outfit that doesn’t make him look fresh from the battlefield
after sleeping in a hedge for a week.”
Finally, of the
Elders, Melvyn approaches, with a jar in his hand. He smiles to me and says “I
don’t need these any more. But if you wish to keep in touch…”
The cousins come
next and Sorashi presents us with matched jewellery
in the style of the Alhambra and her home realm; delicate netting that covers
our hands, interwoven with yellow and blue gems; a truly thoughtful gift.
Darig has obviously conspired with Mandor as his gift is gold chased saddles for our horses;
mine adjusted for Der Rukenschild. Margrath gives us
matched spider broaches; a marriage tradition from his realm, he explains. And
Havelock gifts us a reading of our future.
And then we
dance. Dance cards are metaphorically filled but I only have desire for one
partner and selfishly make sure that she and I are together as much as we can
be. Politics will be part of our lives going forward. Tonight, as much as we
can, is for us.
While Rachael is
chatting and dancing with some others, I approach Grandmother and offer her my
hand. She smiles, and we chat as we dance; a conversation a million miles and
hours away from those first breakfast summonings so
long, and yet so recently ago. Then she was Queen Cymnea,
Dame of Ascaris; now she is grandmother, and friend.
The party
continues on but Rachael and I withdraw – Sorashi
kindly offers us the Alhambra for our lodgings that night and I gratefully
agree.
The next morning
(Disappointed, oh voyeuristic one? Some things are not for diaries!) we convene at Brứ-na-Bóinne once more to sort the Ambassador for
Amber; Hector of Zigo, to no-one’s surprise, is
appointed and will travel back with us.
DeLambre has packed for us both, and meets us at
the Gate to the Courts where Cymnea stands. She and
Rachael exchange words; both have been in the position of being young Chaots in Amber, and Cymnea’s
support for my wife is very much appreciated. I commend Rachael to DeLambre’s care and head to find Benedict. My new life,
wife and role await!