Rebma
or Bust
The ongoing tale of
In
the aftermath of the battle, we explore the temple. The mirror has an obvious
strategic use – it should be of sufficient size for Llewella to use to send a
small party through to Rebma. It looked like it was
to be used to focus and transmit energies from here to strike the Amber armies.
Sorashi
establishes a perimeter while I report back to Benedict briefly, “One god dead,
a few killed or wounded on our side. Wounded are with Fiona. We hold the city.”
He nods and says he will send Caine through with some marines to hold our
position and we are to return to the camp.
Caine
is here quickly and his marines take over from Sorashi’s
deployment. I mention to him that we must secure the mirror and he agrees,
drawing Llewella’s trump card to discuss with her.
Sorashi contacts Deirdre but she is still out with the army, so I suggest
Flora, who will be in the main camp. She brings Sorashi through with Margrath
and the serpent man priest. Once they have secured the prisoner on the other
side, then Sorashi and I bring Alitta, the Order of
the Lugubrious Vendetta and the others of our party in the strike force back
into the camp.
As
soon as I am through I head to the medical encampment. It is quieter than
Rachael has described in her conversations with me, which is good. Fiona is
there, removing thin, blue gloves from her hands. She greets me as the ‘hero of
the Tir-na-Nog’th war’ and admits to having had a
crush on me when she (and I) were younger.
Somewhat
embarrassed, I address her as ‘Auntie’ and ask as to DeLambre’s
health. She looks concerned, with the face that all doctors make when they are
preparing you for the worst. His arm is blue-black with the poison and, as she
says, she cannot use Pattern to fix this. The Chaot
way is to shapeshift away from such damage, and given DeLambre’s
puissance, the fact that he has survived the initial infection is a very
positive sign.
Fiona
says that she will trump me if his condition changes, but I pull up a chair,
reverse it and say “I will be here”. As she nods, I begin to talk to DeLambre,
recounting stories that he has heard a thousand times before and was in
originally. My hope, as the night progresses, is that he will hear my voice and
rally, as he has done so many times before. My left hand rests on DeLambre’s arm. My right holds on to the
pouch that holds a candle that is a conduit to my grandmother. Sorashi
pops in briefly to offer any help that she can give, which I appreciate, so I
ask her to inform Benedict as to my whereabouts.
Benedict
enters sometime later; I am not sure how long. He asks for a battle report, and
I recount it as simply and strategically as possible. He asks a few questions
and then asks after DeLambre’s health. And by that,
he suggests that in his place he would be thinking of amputation. I remind him
that DeLambre is a Chaos Lord in his own right, and that Fiona had counselled
patience and he nodded, taking his leave.
My
next visitor was far more welcome, both for who she is and what she bore.
Rachael came in with wine and glasses and sat with me a little while as I spoke
to DeLambre. She asked after his health and then asked me what my intentions
were regarding my father. I mentioned that he was alive, and in Hell, and that
once everyone had been returned to Amber I would seek to find and free him. She
nodded, and then looking me straight in the eye, said “but you will not do this
alone”, and it was half a statement from an angel and half a question from a
wife. I smiled and promised that I would not – that when I went to Hell she
would be at my side and that DeLambre would be with us, at the very least. The
relief on her face was obvious, and she nodded. “When you are ready to hear
them, there are words in our scripture about Hell that may be of use to you.
But remember one thing. Hell is old. Very old. It far
predates Heaven.” And with that, she took her leave.
Just
about dawn, Fiona comes in and ushers me out as she examines him. I’m allowed
back in shortly afterwards and there are clean signs of improvement. Where the
blue-black flesh was reaching across his chest the night before, it is now all
clear down below his shoulder joint, with a clear band of normal flesh at the
top of his arm. Below that the situation is worse – the colour has darkened to
a purple black, his fingers like rotten bananas and the nails looking as if
they could be pulled away with a touch. It is almost as if his body is pushing
the poison down into his limb. I joke that at least the arm will be easier to
amputate now, and she frowns; “Benedict made the same point”, she said, “but I
do not amputate unless there is no other choice. Now go, get breakfast and
sleep.”
As
I leave, she says “Staying up with him all night. You’re nicer than you pretend
to be, William”. I nod but reply, “He has done similar for me many times”.
At
breakfast, the family are mostly all there. Benedict, Fiona and Llewella talk
through the plan; a small strike force with Llewella and Fiona going through to
Rebma where Fiona will walk the Rebma
pattern, then use its power to open a Trump Gate for the army. This could take
up to a week, so Benedict will continue to lead the Army back over the shadow
roads while it’s arranged. I ask who will go with them – no more than 6 in
number – but Benedict says that is yet to be decided.
Rickard
meets me outside of the tent and asks after DeLambre – I ask his advice,
knowing that he has mastered the Logrus. He looks at DeLambre and says that the
matter is one where the Logrus would not help – the interaction between the
poison and the corruption is not one that he would recommend. DeLambre is
unconsciously using his shapeshifting to pull all the healthy tissue up into
his body and that at some point, he will shed the poison
filled remains of his arm.
I
thank him for his counsel, and he then raises the matter of the funeral of Ieyasu. He feels it would land well if I were
to officiate, and I agree. I ask as to the traditions of Ieyasu’s
House regarding funerals, and Rickard says that a funeral bier is needed, and
that the Order are out collecting wood already. I nod,
and we agree that the funeral will be at dusk.
Benedict
summons me to a council. He asks me what my opinion of Rebma
is and I prevaricate, saying only that it is a long while since I was there. He
warns me of the sorceries they use that can befuddle the mind – calling Pattern
to the forefront of one’s mind is the best and strongest defence, something I
have not done for many hundreds of years given the danger to Chaos had I done
so. I promised to practice. He also reminded me that as a matriarchy, Rebma was not always the easiest place to be an Amber male,
but I laughed slightly and said “You have met my grandmother, haven’t you?” and
left.
I
slept, and then made my way to the bier where Ieyasu’s
body lay. As the Order gathered, I spoke. “Ieyasu
lies here, in his House’s tradition. But he was not only a member of his House,
but of our Order. And he is the first of us to die, though he will not be the
last. So, we create our new tradition. We have come together and learned to
fight together. We will watch the body of our fallen brother, and remember
him.”
At
that, Rickard thrust a burning torch into the bier, and the flames took. We
posted an honour guard, and I took a turn with them, so that his body was
watched throughout the night.
At
breakfast the next morning, Llewella tells us of the things she must do before
taking us to Rebma; it looks like it will be a day or
so. We agree that Llewella, Fiona, me, Rachael, Constance, Margrath, Sorashi
and her ward, Tajal, will make up the group. I know
my place; I am the group thug.
I
discuss troop dispositions with Darig – he wishes to leave a permanent garrison
here, as a midpoint between Chaos and Amber, given the probability of increased
diplomatic missions to and fro. While we are talking, Fiona Trumps me – DeLambre
is making a remarkable recovery and I promise to come to the hospital shortly.
Darig finishes by suggesting we look for a company of volunteers who will stay
and look after the wounded who cannot be moved in the first instance. I counter
that the wounded will need to be our priority to take through to Amber when
Fiona is successful, then head to see DeLambre.
He
is awake and asking for me. His arm stops midway between shoulder and elbow,
with the flesh above looking slightly wasted. He is obviously exhausted, his
energies going into reshaping the poison and decayed flesh away from him. We
exchange some words, nothing to emotional – I make a few jokes and he is his
usual reserved self. But I am overjoyed to see him well and tell him to do what
Fiona tells him to, as he, Rachael and I have a mission to undertake. Fiona
confirms that the decayed flesh that was sloughed is burned and gone – Pattern
can be such a useful tool.
The
rest of the day and night pass without incident, Llewella ‘shriving’ the mirror
away from its connection to Ygg and towards her. As she sleeps, the rest of us
breakfast. I check in on DeLambre and he is alive and recovering but still not
able to travel. “Maybe tomorrow,” says Fiona.
Rachael
and I pack the little that we will need. Later that day, Llewella calls us to
her tent to let us learn more of Rebma. It is,
surprisingly, even more stratified than Amber. Men do heavy lifting and opening
jars. Women are in command, including making up much of the officer core in the
armies. She warns Margrath and me not to express
opinions unasked as we, as men, will be expected to be quiet until spoken to.
As
we digest that, Llewella goes on to mention clothing – Rebmans
wear very little compared to Amberites, for practicality.
The temperatures are more constant than on the surface, and there is less
exposure. Llewella wishes to make this a formal, diplomatic approach, so we
will need to have an audience with the Queen, where we will be formally
announced.
Constance
asks the question about breathing which means I don’t have to.
A
little while later, Constance asks me to come through a trump into a
conversation with Benedict. She had been trying to contact Gerard but could
barely touch his mind. Given my likeness to him (or, given our respective ages,
his to mine), Benedict summons Corwin and Margrath also and, between us, we
reach out.
As
soon as we make contact, Gerard begs us to drag him through, from the inn in
shadow he is in. From his demeanour, the family have been lost to him for a
very long time. Benedict asks him ‘what of Amber?’ and a dishevelled Gerard
demands food and the rest of the family, so he only has to tell the story once.
As
we eat, he tells us a story of Dworkin and the death of Oberon, of the Pattern
being rewritten and the Unicorn and the Jewel of Judgement. [See here for the
full version in Gerard’s own words.]
Over
the next years, Gerard ruled as Regent, waiting for contact for three years or
more. Eventually Random came through, wearing the Jewel, as we would be
attending Oberon’s funeral in Chaos. Random claimed to be king, but Gerard
refused to accept it without the acclaim of the rest of the family, naming
Random as Heir Presumptive.
Then
Random took Gerard to the Pattern and the Unicorn knelt at his feet so Gerard
swore fealty to him.
The
day after, there was an earthquake, destroying much of Kolvir
and the city. Rebma was gone, he thought – the stairs
down were destroyed by the tsunami that the earthquake caused. To bring the
rest of the family back, Gerard rode out, along the route of the fading Black
Road, to find us. But he met a woman with holes where her eyes should be who
said that Amber had defeated Chaos, but had fallen, and Gerard could no longer
find his way back. It has perhaps been months since Random’s
return – a matter of some weeks for us.
We
regroup, and Constance trumps Caine, who is protecting the mirror that can get
us to Rebma. We move through to him and tell him of
Gerard’s return. We then move to the mirror and Llewella begins to make mystic
gestures that connect us, a small mirror in her hand. She carries out a
conversation with someone she addresses as daughter, and then a portal opens,
which looks like the frame of a large mirror, seen from behind. A young Rebman
woman stands in front of it.
We
are passed through, women first, and I take a deep breath of water as I step
back into Rebma for the first time in over 3000
years. To play the lummock, I deliberately breathe
out as I step into the water, blowing a large cloud of bubbles out, holding
Rachael’s hand as she takes her first breath. Pages
are summoned and we wait to be taken to see the Queen.
As
we wait, Llewella introduces us to her daughter, Nerine. Introductions are
made, and we size each other up. Of the cousins, Sorashi is introduced first,
as Deirdre is eldest, then Constance. Rachael is introduced before me and then
introduces me as her husband. Finally, Margrath, Son of Sand is introduced, and
then we are taken to see the Queen.
In
the throne room, the Queen waits for us, dressed in a fish leather kilt and
jewels, with a sceptre by her side. Queen Moiré surveys us, flanked by two of
her advisors. We are introduced again, in much the same order. Llewella skirts
over my parentage, introducing me only as William of Amber, and when Moiré
presses, then as William, son of Finndo.
Llewella
tells our story, then asks what she has missed. Moiré
tells us of the earthquake from Rebma’s perspective.
Apparently in the tumult Rebma or the world has been
twisted through 90 degrees. They have searched for Amber, but cannot find it.
Fiona
asks if she can walk the Rebman pattern, and Moiré says she will consider it.
We are taken to rooms, where we can prepare for a formal evening meal.