Alaric’s Diary part 7: Abdication

In The Doom that Came to Amber

18^th Bull 3658

I attended breakfast with a remarkably full contingent of the family. Uncles Benedict and Bleys sitting on either side of Julian; Bathsheba has been replaced by Bleys as Admiral (shrewd move by Julian there).

A new mood of foreign policy has hit the castle and I’m perhaps a little unhappy about this one. Julian is focussing his efforts on the Sea of Sand, Ardent and relations with Faerie – not surprising given his Mother’s background and his interests in Arden. I enquired as to whether I was to continue to receive petitions on the King’s behalf and Julian confirmed my post.

I reported back on Lyon Abbey and the lack of assistance by the then Warden of the Golden Circle (Bathsheba) and the assistance of Deirdre (black looks from both) and was told that the incident didn’t matter as it took place in just a buffer state. Hmmmm. But they are still people and still worshippers of the Church of the Unicorn. Benedict stiffened when I described and named the creature Khitan and I had faced.

Permission to sketch the King was denied on the grounds that I shouldn’t make psychic contact with mad people – and what could I do that was better than the talents of my Aunts and Uncles?

I also reported on our contact with Uncle Corwin – particularly the conclusion of our deliberations on the nature of the trap that holds him – sorcerous in nature and possibly of the Courts of Chaos. This gained Deirdre’s interest at least.

My Mother loitered over her meal in that motherly way she has and joined me as I left the room. She wished to speak with me privately and I agreed to meet with her later in the morning. I winked at Uncle Bleys but noted that his returned wink was not at me but at Auntie Flora.

I received the said petitions and prepared them for rubber-stamping and trumped through to Paolo. I received my sacrament for the day and we walked back up to the Castle together, stopping at a tailor’s to order Paolo some replacement clothing. After a brief dispute with him over his choice of colours – oh Gods I really do despair of him at times – we set off up to the Castle.

I stopped to trump my Aunt Deirdre to ask her to lunch but she reminded me that we were already engaged to have dinner that night – and I had quite forgotten.

We walked on up to the castle, going first to the armoury for Paolo to chose his sword. On the way to my rooms Paolo berated me for inaction regarding Mira’s interests but in faith it has only been but a few days since we have arrived back in Amber and, frankly my attentions have been diverted elsewhere. I left him for my meeting with Mother – one that would be difficult at best.

Most meetings with my Mother leave me feeling like an idiot son or a chastened schoolboy. This one left me feeling foolish, trapped and churlish in turn. She looked careworn – unusual for someone who always takes great care with her public appearance. She commented on my apparent good health and I felt guilty for that in its own right.

She spoke mostly about the difficulty of her position and maintaining balances and how she and some others wished the removal of the Unicorn from her current position of strength. She also commented on how my frequent, ill-aspected, appearances in her Trump divinations were causing her grave disquiet and asked again about my visit to Mirabeau and to tell her also about my armour. I can only surmise that she had been told of it by Deirdre or Flora or perhaps shown Paolo’s icon of me wearing it.

She wanted to know what I wanted. I replied ‘to paint’. She questioned me further, dissatisfied with my answer and after careful prodding I said ultimately ‘power over art’ – presumably Trump. Mother asked me a question on the nature of Trump. I responded but then asked her if there was space between or around trump. She replied in acid tones and thus my feelings of foolishness.

My Mother laid Mira’s desires on the line and told me chapter and verse of how Dworkin, an amoral creature, had moulded Mira into his creature and she was exactly of the same depraved and amoral nature as Timon and Brand and everyone else moulded by Dworkin. I found myself thinking that all of the red heads had training from Dworkin.

She contrasted Dworkin with his son. In contrast she commented favourably on Oberon’s morality – and his overall consideration of Amber. Oberon, despite his numerous affairs, lived by a high moral code and expected his children to follow his good example.

Finally she asked me if I wanted power in a Real World where Mira herself held all real power. The simple answer to this was no. Art, without freedom of expression is not art at all, but artistic slavery and, in my case, artistic prostitution. If anything I now feel even more uncomfortable about my relationship with Mira.

Fiona dismissed our initial thoughts about Corwin’s whereabouts. My Trump divination gave Corwin’s position as being Amber Reversed and she said that our attempt to triangulate his position was flawed. She asked who had identified the sorcery and I replied that Khitan and Aylwin had initially but that I had also run it past Merlin and that he had, but only from our description, suggested that it may be of Chaos origin.

Fiona changed tact and asked about the last incident at Lyon Abbey. She asked what had happened and what had Deirdre fought on my behalf? I started to sketch it and when she realised what it was I sketched she tore it from my hands and threw it to the floor. She was even more upset when I stated the name of the creature – and it was then that the light in her room became darker and she started to speak in a language unknown to me and gesticulated magically, and urgently. The light returned but I am convinced that I heard my name spoken as if from far, far away.

Fiona looked even more careworn after this and bade me never, never to speak that name again. I nodded stiffly. She asked what else had occurred and I told her of the Hound that sought me and that Khitan seemed to have knowledge of how to dismiss it and that Morwaith was currently seeking more knowledge of them. My reference to Morwaith sent her into a passionate diatribe on his shortcomings as a scion of the House of Amber; traitor no less. Yet to me, admittedly in the scant years I have known him, he’s always been terribly indulgent Uncle-like figure, even referring to me as one of his favourite nephews on one occasion.

She then expressed concern for my facial injuries and moved towards me as if to examine Uncle Gerard’s embroidery on my cheekbone. I stepped back to avoid her touch and the link that may have accompanied it and she forced me to desist which I did with poor grace and much suspicion. She was then obviously upset at the level of suspicion exhibited by her son and when she said that she was concerned for my wellbeing I replied that she was several hundred years too late for such sentiments.

I left her on poor terms having near outright accused her of not caring a jot about me and then accused her of having deserted me as a newborn baby to the whims of the Florentines. She replied by pointing out that she had kept me safe during the Patternfall War. Even more coldly I replied that yes she had, and by doing so she had denied me my place with my family. Aylwin had fought with the Family and I suppose that this has galled me ever since. This really hurt her. I left the room swiftly before I said something worse.

I stopped as I walked away from her door and turned back. She received me at her door and accepted my heartfelt apology and my dutiful kiss.

I returned to my rooms and to lunch with a still sulky Paolo but was summoned almost immediately by Mother to lunch with the family. Miracle of Miracles, the King had recovered his senses – and more so was now cleared from the Unicorn’s influence. The words of the Old Man from Mira’s conversation passed through my head – ‘she has her candidate on the throne’. Hmmm. No longer methinks.

However Random had also decided that he was not fit to rule Amber and he had decided to leave Julian as Protector in his absence. For a year and a day he would seek he who should be King of Amber and by that I surmised he meant Corwin. Should he fail in his task, the family was to elect the new King of Amber. Inwardly I rejoiced and decided to speak privately with him before he left the castle early next morning. It was also made known that his recovery was through the actions of Nathan (I always knew he was worth persevering with). Nathan was also said to be under Gerard’s protection – and was not to be punished.

I returned to Paolo in higher spirits. I talked to him about Trump divination for it had occurred to me earlier that although he could make Trumps he had no or little idea how to use them. In Mirabeau all power belongs to Mira – but not yet so in Amber so I set about to teach him the rudiments of divination. One day I may get through to him the fact that Trump is there and available to anyone with the ability and wit to use it – not just Mira’s chosen.

His divination question related to the success of our mission and it made grim reading. My vacillation was clearly evident and the outcome was the 10 of swords. It might have been worse – but only marginally.

I left him to practise in his misery and I set about examining my armour and I believe have succeeded in attuning it to me. Within it is a small space interspersed by many other spaces and the walls are covered with the designs on the armour. I shall set about its design when I have the leisure of a few hours but the space, by its nature reminded me very much of Mira’s own rooms and my early 4D exploratory drawings in my room in Mirabeau The thought of somewhere nice to retreat to is so very tempting – but the space must be both enlarged and furnished by my fair brush first. Some more research on Trump shadows would enable that I think. If I ever have time!

By the time I had come out of my meditations it was time for me to change for dinner with Deirdre. I sought Paolo’s advice and disdained my wig for this occasion and perhaps for all time.

I met Auntie Flora on my way to Deirdre’s rooms, obviously by her design. She congratulated me on my appearance and gave me the opportunity I needed to apologise to her for my behaviour when last we’d met in Mirabeau. She was very sweet as always and forgave me.

I tried to explain the confusion of my feelings – but Auntie Flora, as anyone who has had first hand experience of her knuckle-dusters can tell, is the Mistress of flirtation and flattery. Even with her nephews. I found myself offering to take her out for the evening and she has said that I shall take her dancing the following evening.

Aunt Deirdre received me in a particularly beautiful dress. She acknowledged that I was suitably dressed and looked much better without my wig. She then gave me a dressing down over my wig and told me how hurt my Mother was over my desire to disguise the colour of my hair – and presumably my heritage. I was taken aback by this accusation, and was wrong-footed for the third time this day by one of my female relatives!

Having complimented her over the beauty of her gown I was then told that I ought to have said something when I first saw her in it – but truly that would only have been flattery and it was only on consideration that I had acknowledged her perfection within it. I had boasted that I would paint her fighting that beast we had met at the Abbey. I think, on reflection that I shall paint a trump of her as I saw her that night, dressed in that gown against the candlelit backdrop of her rooms.

We spoke about Corwin and her desire for me to organise his rescue and his return to Court. We spoke also about the Unicorn herself and specifically the dislike that a number of the family has for it. Deirdre frankly hates the creature as it had seen fit to rescue the Jewel of Judgement but not her from the Abyss. She claimed to have been an innocent victim of it all and she has no memory of the Abyss or any Event between her fall with Brand and her recovery back in the Court of Amber having been rescued by Nathan and myself amongst others.

She repeated that she knew the whereabouts of the former worshippers of the Church of Mira and when asked she said that she had some thoughts on a place within Amber that a School of Art could be established. If I wanted to know more I should report to the Citadel early in the morning. She added that I should wear my new armour.

Having thanked her for the pleasure of her company and what was really a very fine meal I left her for the night. Great – I already intended to stay awake for the night and intercept the King early in the morning. Why did she insist on the armour though? To test it? Or to test me? Or both? And probably to teach me a lesson for publicly acknowledging her assistance at Lyon Abbey.

I returned to my rooms to find Paolo sound asleep in my bed. Poor thing is probably bored stupid. I keep him closeted and the standard of the arts is just so poor in Amber as compared to Mirabeau. In fact many things are pretty poor in Amber – food and music as well as art. I can just imagine the response of a restaurateur in Amber if I ordered a meal of the like I had enjoyed in Mirabeau – and if I offered to pay with a work of art.

With that thought I sat on a chair and sketched until dawn thinking about the space within my armour and how to decorate and build Shadows within it.