Dinner and Desert

The ongoing tale of William, Son of Finndo of Amber and Ophelia of Rebma, and of the Line of Barimen in the Courts of Chaos.

24th Serpent / Leviathan in the Rebman calendar, 3658

A dinner in Rebma – the diary of William, son of Ophelia of Rebma and Finndo of Amber, who is probably the oldest person in the room.

We are taken to our quarters and are told how to be safe in Rebma – there are areas where magic keeps the pressure and the cold of the oceans around us away, and that we will not survive, even with our Amberite constitution, more than a few dozen heartbeats, even if we could breathe.

Rachael and I are in a pleasant room close to Fiona (at Constance’s request, I find out from Nerine – when I ask Constance if there is something that has raised her concern she says that her Lord Warden has asked her to be on edge – so a more general, quotidian concern rather than anything specific).

We start to dress for dinner. The bare minimum we must wear for politeness are short close fitting troos that come down no more than mid-thigh. More formal wear is a short light cloak. And jewellery looks essential as a mark of status – Queen Moiré wears rings on each finger, for example. Our clothes are in our colours – blue and yellow for me, white for Rachael. She dons a dress that covers her to her knees, weights sewn into the hem to stop it ebbing and flowing with the tide. I dress in the Rebman fashion, but with a dagger at my belt. So we dress, ready for the battle that we will face around the dinner table.

We are escorted to an antechamber and drinks are provided, though the cups are covered and we suck at them like a baby at a teat. There are a mix of Rebman men and women here. I am sat next to Lorelei, who pays me the complement of her full attention for a while. On my other hand is Oswald, the Queen’s brother. It is notable that there are fewer men around the table than women, and the Amberite pattern of interweaving the sexes reaches about half way up from the foot – Queen Moiré is surrounded by women of both courts.

I speak briefly with Admiral Vaughn Outremer – he is not from Rebma, and controls their surface navy. He is acquainted with the Amber royal family, and is from a shadow adjacent to the Golden Circle. The Rebmans wanted to increase surface trade with the Golden Circle especially and that needs protection. They had 2 dozen ships until 5 months ago when they lost 22 to the major wave. Once his ship, the Leviathan, is repaired, then he intends to sail forth and seek if any of his ships and crews remain. He offers me a place on his ship, should I want it – the skills of an Amber Prince, especially one who can shift shadow, could speed his task significantly.

Opposite me is Leucothea – I wonder what she has done to be in the Queen’s bad books enough to be placed at our end of the table.

I size up Oswald as we sit – he is not dissimilar to me in many ways – strong looking and able to handle himself. He shows great interest in me for similar reasons – he sees me as potentially the other combatant in the room. He sits where the consort would sit, were there one, I think. We chat inconsequentially – he recognizes me as Finndo’s son but doesn’t seem to recognise me as Ophelia’s son? I know she chose not to spend much time in Rebma.

He asks me what brings me to Rebma and I tell him a little of our mission – I assume it is common knowledge amongst the nobility, and the favour that we have to ask of Rebma. I tell him of Rachael, and he asks if we are ‘truly’ married. I tell him we are, and that once our mission is completed, she and I have many worlds to explore.

Oswald is interested in Chaos, and in the succession of the Amber crown – he seems surprised that Random is king and wants to know how it happened – I tell him of the Unicorn giving the Jewel of Judgement to him, and his accession to the throne thereby.

Oswald tells me that Random’s last visit and ‘dalliance’ resulted in the death of the Queen’s daughter – I subtly (for me) mention that I hope those of us with family ties to Rebma are still welcome here, but he doesn’t seem to react to that in any way. Warning me that Lorelei will shortly start playing footsie at the third course, he turns to the other side of the table.

As we move towards the end of the meal, Leucothea, the sister of the Queen, leans in. She remembers me as a hero of the battle of Tir-Na-Nog’th. She also knows that Ophelia was my mother, and tells me that she was ‘put away’ because she went mad at what had happened to Finndo, Benedict and Amber. She eventually allegedly ‘drowned’ but, as Leucothea said, ‘can a fish drown?’

Gradlon is captain of the Queen’s Guard – the palace guard. Oswald is captain of the Order of the Sea Horse – a knightly order that serves as a police function, though it can field a military force when needed. The Rebman army is commanded by Naia, Oswald’s daughter, as Victrix (which he is rightly proud of).

Speaking to Leucothea, the succession is going to be messy, and soon.

Rachael tells me later that Dale was most interested in where she was from, Afanc is affable, life and soul of the party and being a good host. The only oddity was Jasconius, who was looking at her strangely; not leering like he does with many of the other women around her, but with more of a longing. Perhaps, I suggested, the fact that she was of all the women around the table the most dressed (and, of course, the most beautiful, though I didn’t say that aloud). But she, far more perceptive than me, thought it was not that. It was more like the way that Havelock would look at people; studying them to be able to reproduce them later. But Havelock would look at men and women equally. Jasconius only had eyes for the women in the room.

As the meal comes to an end, Queen Moire speaks, stating that she will allow Fiona access to the Rebman Pattern, so long as the Amber Army does not come to Rebma, either as part of the ritual or afterwards. Fiona smiles and nods. At this, the gentlemen are encouraged to withdraw.

Oswald leads us to a gymnasium for some light post meal sparring. He picks up a short sword and offers us the chance to spar. I match his blade and begin, lightly at first. It is clear that we are very closely matched. He is more graceful than I am, but when I counter by moving in for a clinch and moving the battlefield to where I hope to be stronger, he keeps moving away. I believe that I would have a slight advantage close in, but it would not be much of one, and any victory would be long fought. We disengage, and I bow and smile.