Roland

[Shutter]

Roland walks around to the rear of the Pattern, the point farthest from the door. There he settles down into a kneeling position usualy reserved for meditation.

Grasping at straws here aren't you? He shrugs, an odd gesture alone in a cavern. Still looking through the pattern lens he reaches to his belt and pulls out all of his Trumps, both decks. He begins to shuffle them up, quietting his mind and reaching his awareness out towards the Pattern. Hey there, ye odd diety. I have some tealeaves that need arranging...I'm a sword with no target, direct me, where am I most needed? And then he lays the cards...

[Wired*Nun]

A moment later, and Roland is not alone. He continues to lay out the cards, straining to hear behind him where his sixth sense tells him someone now stands. It takes all of his self-discipline not to turn around with sword in hand.

I am here in the Chamber, if It wanted me dead, I'd be dead.

A chuckle.

"Sometimes I curse the day I made those damned cards, all the evil they've been used for. At least you're not trying to work any mischief, but you may succeed nonetheless."

[Shutter]

After a moments pause Roland finishes laying down the latest card. He turns his head a fraction to catch the voice better. Dworkin, or someone who wants to make me think it's Dworkin...Oh, why even start that line of logic?

"Understandable...But if you go about regretting the creation of all that has led to evil, you might not get around to appreciating the good that has come with it." Contrast right? Order and Chaos, good and evil, sweet and sour, chocolate and vanilla...Maybe it's best not to spout obvious semi-philosophical platitudes at Dworkin...

Roland rests his hand on the next card, pausing for now with laying his fortune. "As for my own mischief..." Damn good question isn't it? As you play around with Powers you understand as a novice... "I try to avoid it on a grand cosmic scale, and am certainly open to advice in that regard. Is there any particular mischief I'm in imminent danger of committing?

[Wired*Nun]

"I don't know...is there?" He shuffles around to squat in front of Roland like a Chinese mendicant casting i ching for coppers. He strokes his beard, bright, mad eyes burning into Roland's from under furrowed brows.

"Every one of my Family surrenders part of himself to the Pattern, thereby to me, every time they use the Power. To do it in the very presence of the Pattern is to open yourself wide to Its influence, to surrender part of your will. There is more than one reason this thing is so far underground." He chuckles again.

"If it weren't for me, all of you would be its puppets, instead of merely some. Of course," letting loose a throaty low laugh, "if it weren't for me, there wouldn't be any Pattern, and if I died, it would lose a vast piece of itself, probably enough to lose the eternal struggle. Even if She let me..." He looks suddenly melancholy, and shakes his head.

Reaching out a hand suddenly, he places his forefinger on the top of the deck, as if to hold it from the deal.

"Please, don't go any further. I haven't the strength. Even now it beats at the gates of my mind. Everything has its price. If you gain true knowledge in this manner, It will make you pay more than you ever wanted."

Standing suddenly, Dworkin looks down, imperiously. Roland sees for a moment the kingship buried under the old, stooped figure.

"Have you see Corwin lately?" he asks irrelevantly.

[Shutter]

Roland's eyes widen at the implications, probably not as much as they will when he fully proccesses what Dworkin just said. He meets Dworkin's gaze for a moment, then realizes he's still looking through the Pattern Lens, which he quickly dismisses. I may be in the midst of taking uncouth to truly cosmic levels...


"Please, don't go any further. I haven't the strength. Even now it beats at the gates of my mind. Everything has its price. If you gain true knowledge in this manner, It will make you pay more than you ever wanted."

A small pit of fear drops in to Roland's stomach at the warning. Foolish...Damned foolish to play around like this wasn't it? When Dworkin stands he returns the cards to the top of the deck without looking at his aborted fortune.

"Have you see Corwin lately?" he asks irrelevantly.

"A few days ago, by Amber time." I think this is the part where the hero is supposed to get some key piece of information from the wise old man...but for the life of me I don't know what to say...It's bloody Dworkin...I'd have as much luck bluffing the Unicorn... He looks up at Dworkin, then over to his side, at the Pattern. "We small fish should be careful to stay in the shallows shouldn't we?"

[Wired*Nun]

Dworkin seizes Roland with effortless strength, both shoulders, and lifts him to his feet. "No, son of my flesh. You are no small fish. You are important. You are not small. And you are courageous, and true, and that is also no small thing. But so was Corwin, and look where he ended. Can you truly say when you looked in his eyes you saw him still there? Remind yourself of the road to hell, and its paving..." He turns away, dropping his bony hands.

"But I forget, you did not know him in his youth. So like you..." Dworkin shrinks yet again, without ever even moving.

"I ceased being human long ago, melted and poured into my creation. Men are not meant to know gods so closely, and cannot remain human if they do. Do you speak Hebrew? No? It is an obscure Earth language, one of its oldest, and has its roots deep in the even older tongue of the Demons. The word to know is the same as the one for to become one flesh, to couple. You ever couple with a god, Roland? If you ever get a chance...turn her down."

"In the same way, you cannot receive the knowledge of the Universe without knowing it...and my boy, it will give you a royal screwing. But I tell you what...take a walk with me, and ask old Dworkin your question, and I'll try to sub in for the gods." He turns, waiting a moment for Roland to scoop up his cards, and leads them through the cavern wall into a grassy meadow on the east slope of Kolvir, it seems, overlooking the sea.

[Shutter]

After the mind-twisting experience of walking through the cavern wall Roland is struck by the beautiful simplicity of a mountainside at night. For a moment he is just a young man on a mountainside with his great-grandfather. The ocean and stars serve as a soothing contrast to the dire cosmic warnings a moment before. So big and so little.

He breathes deeply. The exhale is slow, he takes his time trying to gather up a cogent thought. He bids me to ask and I still don't know my questions. Joss's death, seems a ruse, feint, plant, whatever you want to call it. My intuition points to Dara, and that's about all I know in the investigational realm. Then we have the chaos demons...the fount, the maze etc.

"I've been off in Shadow on my own for a while, and before that I was essentialy asleep. Now, here, in Amber, this big world with it's big events...Murder, rebellion, magic, madness. Is this just another year's crop of trouble's coming to life, or is this something newer and bigger?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Newer, yes, bigger? Than what? I remade the universe, as did Oberon, then Corwin, then Merlin after him. It's a tradition, I think. But there's another change coming, for certain. The pieces are on the board, the first pawn has been sacrificed. The question is, young man, who is playing the game? It used to have just two sides, but now there are more, and every knight thinks himself a king, every pawn wishes to be promoted."

He sits down upon a low rock, waving for Roland to take a place beside him. "But chesspieces have no volition, while you and I do. What would you do, were you the master? Trade piece for piece in hopes of wearing the enemy down? Preserve what you have and defend, hoping for a stalemate? Think ever more deeply, hoping for insight and clever strategem? How best to play the game? Come on, boy, tell it to me. How would you play it?"

[Shutter]

"Proper action requires knowledge. I lean towards the latter path when I can. Even more important when I don't know the rules of the game, or the players as you say." He says, joining Dworkin on the rock.

"Knowledge is power, and all that classic cliche. When you know something well enough to know whether it needs to be destroyed, there is a better chance that you'll know how." He pauses a beat. "Or to know if you're fully beaten and need to flee."

"I'd seek the players, find out who they are, and why they are playing."

[Wired*Nun]

"Then you've come to the right place, and I'm in a talking mood. Why, I'm sure you wonder? Because I don't like the way Random is playing it. He won't listen to me. The others won't listen to me. They think I lost it after all of everything that happened. Corwin might have understood, but he has changed too. I need a knight, myself. You want to play chess, Roland? You want to be a knight?"

[Shutter]

Roland smiles slightly. "A knight? They always said I was too linear to play the role properly, but a bishop? A rook? I think there I can help you." Father Tibrone's voice swins up from the past A knight? No boy, maybe a rook...Grow up some more and you'll be a fine queen. Hah!

[Wired*Nun]

"Well, let's hope you won't be a mere pawn." He pauses, blowing air out his lips.

"I and the Pattern are One, yet we are also Two. You were opening yourself up to posession by the Pattern itself - I'm a sword with no target, direct me, where am I most needed? - Isn't that what you were thinking, in the very heart of the thing? The Pattern underpins us all, Roland, but it is a capricious and angry god, jealous of everything, but especially of its own interests. If it plays you, it will also sacrifice you by cold calculation. If I do the moving, you have the benefit of both knowing what I am doing, and knowing that I care about my family. She cares, too, but in a different way. As a mother does, without reservation and oftentimes, without sense." Dworkin shakes his head.

"So what's it going to be, Roland? In or out?"

[Shutter]

The words hang there for a time.

Such an offer is not made lightly, nor should I take it lightly. What were the words of the oath I swore to Random and Amber? Upon the holy Unicorn, I will support and defend the realm of Amber, its rightful Sovereign, and its people, against all enemies, from within or without, with no reservation of honor, or risk, or of my life itself. I see no conflict there....He has sought preservation of the universe in the past...preservation of Amber...No apparent ambition for dominion... And off his mind goes, racing through his options.

After a too? hasty weighing of options, of likelihoods and such, Roland nods.

"I'm in." I could ask you why you play this game, what your goal is, but what I know of history speaks clearly enough to me. He looks over at his great grandfather, Now what?

[Wired*Nun]

"Good man. I knew I could count on you."

The night breeze is growing chill, and Dworkin makes a casual waving gesture, and a campfire springs into existence at their feet, complete with split wood and an enameled steel coffee-pot. "Coffee? Or something else, easy enough to obtain?"

After pouring Roland his favorite poison and taking a sip of his own, he goes on. "Ahhh, that's good. Well, I imagine you have questions, but you're not sure which to ask or how. Let me fill you in on a couple of things, then perhaps you will know how to go forward."

"I believe there was once only nothingness in the Universe. Whether this nothingness was a transition between a former Existence or was the Original Nothingness, I have no way of knowing, and, in fact, makes no difference. Academically, it might be an interesting question, but existensially, it doesn't matter."

"At some time that Nothingness, that primal Void, produced two Original Beings - the Serpent and the Unicorn. We don't know how it happened - whether the Nothing became Something which was organized along some form of natural law, or whether the Void itself constituted an intelligence which gave birth to these two. In any case, I have never found any proof either way of a being greater or more Primal than these Originals."

"The recent struggles of these beings are reasonably well-known. My beloved embodies the organizing principle which turned the pure Chaos of the Serpent into something recognizable, useful. The Serpent, of course, is the wellspring of all creation and destruction. The Serpent is like this fire, creating heat and destroying wood, while the Unicorn is rather like the stones and the air, which limit or control or make useful this fire. This is an imperfect analogy, you understand."

"The first race of beings were the so-called Demons. I say race because they are not directly traceable to the two Originals, yet reproduce and perpetuate themselves. Their legends say that the Serpent and Unicorn collaborated to produce them in an act of creation."

"The other race is that of men, specifically, of what we now call Chaos. All others are reflections and distortions of one of these races, and can be traced to them. These are our people, my people. Our legends say that the Serpent created Men and the Unicorn created Demons, and as the Unicorn is subordinate to the Serpent, so are Demons subordinate by nature to Men."

"I do not believe either legend, nor am I certain where the truth lies. I do know that each twists the legends beyond imagining for their own benefit."

"Each of the Originals has sought to manipulate each race to gain advantage. While each will grudgingly admit the necessity of the other, each believes itself to deserve dominance. And of what use is dominance without someone to grovel?"

"At one time I was convinced of the absolute rightness of the Unicorn's cause, and helped her to steal the Left Eye of the Serpent and therefore create the Pattern and Amber...and while she remains my beloved, I have also been made...equal to her, in a way, and thereby gained perspective. I love her no less, nor does she love me and my family less, but we do not necessarily agree on all things any more. Do you follow me so far?"

"As things stand now, we have gone from a clear dichotomy to a multipolar universe of conflicting powers. Patternfall, Corwin's Pattern, and the rise of a fourth Power have all fractured the two empires into new patterns. Now, Chaosites are not merely vying for the throne of Chaos, nor Amberites for Oberon's. Now, we have many factions grasping for ever larger chunks of the universe to dominate. In fact," he sighs wearily, "despite my best efforts we have ended up not so differently from how the Courts were before I rebelled. It has just become a bigger dogpile, with more dogs trying to climb to the top."

Dworkin begins to quietly weep, tears running down his face and into his beard. "I wanted a place of light and beauty, away from the inbred social structures and rigid dominances of Chaos. I wanted a place where no one would be a slave, man or demon. I wanted to shake things up and create opportunity where there was none before. And I did! I created a million million worlds to explore, a vast multiverse where all could live with room enough to spare. But look what happened...look what happened..." He doubles over, sobbing in great gasps now, looking like nothing but a broken old man, rather than the master of half of reality.

[Shutter]

Roland accepts the offer of coffee with quiet thanks. When Dworkin begins to speak he listens, rapt. He nods where appropriate, but is otherwise silent throughout, sipping his coffee and thinking.

...


Without even thinking about it he reaches out to place his hand on Dworkin's heaving shoulder, the classic gesture of comforting.

"But that's the nature of existence isn't it? Beauty comes often from creativity. But creativity calls for effort, for striving, which in turn countenances greed, leads to conflict...That's the price."

"And isn't it worth it? Think of all that you've made! The richness, the variety, the legions of beautiful shadows...Even the chaotic and painful ones have their appreciators. There is beauty in peace and harmony, but also in victory, and in a creative universe, one with conflict, victory may be easier to come by than peace at times."

"In my limited experience it seems that rarely is anything worth doing particularly easy. Who wants a universe that isn't worth fighting for?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Yes," Dworkin says as he calms, patting Roland's hand reverse-fashion with a gnarled one of his own. "All that is true, easy to know, hard to remember sometimes." He shakes his white mane and brushes symbolically at his pantlegs. "Most of the time I'm fine, really. Grief can be steadying, if you know when to quit."

"So does any of that help you to know which questions to ask? There are so many things in my head, I can't always keep track of them. What was it you wanted to know?"

[Shutter]

"So does any of that help you to know which questions to ask?

Not really, though it does give me more to wonder about.

Serpent and Unicorn, man and demon, Chaos and Amber, Pattern and Logrus. Now there's the Maze. With it's Nightmare. And Corwin's Pattern..How far do these parallels go then?

Roland lets the silence drag out for a moment, trying to gather up his thoughts into a cohesive sentance.

"Much as I was wondering when you found me. Is there an overt threat to...well, everything, yet? Or is it time for the grand wait and see? The poke and prod where we find out which of our neighbors are arming to be cautious and which are arming because they desire our blood?"

[Wired*Nun]

Much as I was wondering when you found me. Is there an overt threat to...well, everything, yet? Or is it time for the grand wait and see? The poke and prod where we find out which of our neighbors are arming to be cautious and which are arming because they desire our blood?


"There is no increased threat to everything, not like there was at Patternfall. Though the Serpent would like to see the Pattern wiped out and the status quo ante restored, there is little chance of that, I believe. That is why I have stayed largely absent from these questions of politics, the give and take of two empires in a cold war. However, Corwin's Pattern is extending its influence, gradually. Neither of the original Powers has the resources to confront it without losing more ground to the greater enemy. Now this Maze is born, which aggressively seeks to carve out a new middle."

"They all want more of the Shadowlands between, but that does not make them all our enemies - since the enemy of my enemy is my friend."

[Shutter]

"I wonder how flexible is the geometry of existence. The bipolar Amber and Chaos has been the rule for so very long...Equal shares, two poles, all that. If the Maze wants parity on that scale it needs to cut out one of them, or it needs to think that existence will be happy to reconfigure to a three-fold symmetry...Everyone wants their slice I suppose. Keeping pace with the neighbors on a scale beyond cosmic. How epic and how petty all at once."

You dare babble metaphysics at Dworkin? How quickly you forget the proper place of the ignorant...

[Wired*Nun]

"The rule for the last...I don't know exactly. Call it four millenia, I think. Only a dozen years in Amber have passed since we became three-poled, if that's the proper term. It has been a mighty struggle to keep the damage under control - shadow-storms, tears in reality."

"The Maze made it four, briefly, but has been neutralized for now. All it needs is a power source of sufficent magnitude to be revitalized. I can't let that happen - not because I care one way or the other whether people create constructs and personal power sources - but because the Maze seeks to duplicate the higher initiations, and carve out its own territory. The creators of the Maze don't even really know what they're risking."

Taking another long draught of coffee, Dworkin stares out to sea. "I can't just take off and resolve things personally, either. Any distraction in my efforts right now could cause everything to crack. That's the problem with gaining great power - the taxes on such power are nearly consuming, leaving only a little left over. This magnifies the importance of free agents like you, who can tip the balance one way or the other with your actions."

[Shutter]

"Do you think creators of the Maze can change it to a less invasive construct? A tool instead of...whatever it is now, a rival to Pattern and Logrus. Let them have their power and their dominion without impacting the fabric of existence. Merlin's Ghostwheel didn't go off spawning reflections and sundering reality did it?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Ghostwheel is an entirely different sort of thing. He knows what he is. Maze itself is analagous to a presentient Pattern - but that is not the problem. The existence of Nightmare shows that they have reverse-engineered an independent patron and manifestation - something between the real Unicorn and its Pattern-avatar. It needs no power source, and works to restore the Maze like a hungry young god. As long as it keeps to the shadows well out from Amber and Chaos, avoids the Serpent and Unicorn, it can work much mischief." He snorts. "We are fortunate that Corwin's Pattern has no separate patron as its advocate - this at least is in our favour."

[Shutter]

"Is the fate of the Maze still up in the air? Might it adjust its goals to be be a peaceful co-exister?" Or must we destroy it?

[Wired*Nun]

"I believe it is what it is. It was constructed to mimic the originals, and will probably develop the same way. If Nightmare were done away with, Maze would be just another construct, a tool. With Nightmare, it is a tool with a guiding hand behind it, with a will to power. The royal family of Kashfa is insufficient to moderate its potential abuses, the way I do for the Pattern, Corwin for his. They unwisely did not tie their own fate to its, thinking they could detatch themselves from it without great loss...but the reverse is also true. If the Nightmare/Maze gains enough power, they can dispense with their human associates. Then there will be war."

[Shutter]

"Then the goals seem clear enough even if the path is not." Do the words easier said than done ring a bell, boy? Roland allows the silence to settle for a moment in case Dworkin has anything to add before he moves on to something else.

[Wired*Nun]

"I have a few ideas on the path, but I was never the dictator my son became. The goals...neutering the Maze, or at least containing it, is a means to an end, not the end itself. Stability and justice, of a sort, those are my goals...but I value your viewpoint as well."

[Shutter]

Stability and Justice as goals...music to my ears.

"I would like to know more about how Jasra, Dunstan, Luke, the Kashfa royal family as you say...How they stand with the Maze. Are they concerned? Addicted? Stability and Justice are also concerned I think with an uprising in the works near Chaos. Are you familiar with this already? Earlier...." Roland trails off in mid sentance remembering suddenly that he has a Trump of Nightmare in his satchel, painted by Asmundson a few months back. It should still be in there I think...Why not simply give it to Dworkin for him to reach out and crush her?...Must be more to it than that or he'd have done it himself...

"Ah, lost my train of thought. It just occured to me that I think I have a Trump of Nightmare here in my bag. I'd forgotten it until just now."

[Wired*Nun]

"Concerned? They built the damned thing. I'm sure they won't leave their ambitions just because of a little setback. They will want to marry it to another power source when they can."

Dworkin's eyes and head swivel to meet Roland's burning suddenly brighter.

"You have...what? Is it functional?"

[Shutter]

"I haven't tested it, but it should be. Asmundson, one of the Nightmare's initiates from Shadow made it for me." While he speaks Roland reaches through his satchel, pulling out the portrait and showing it to Dworkin. Assuming I didn't lose the damned thing.

[Wired*Nun]

Dworkin looks at the painting for a moment, then turns it face-down. Patting him on his knee with one gnarled hand, he says, "Roland, you earned your keep today. Not that I ever doubted you. Now, are you up to an assignment? It won't be nice, nor pretty. But I will tell you it is necessary."

[Shutter]

The little boy within Roland gobbles up the praise and begs for more.

"Let's hear it."

[Wired*Nun]

He hands the painting back to Roland. "Take this Trump to Corwin. Tell him that this is his competition, and that he will need to use the Jewel. He will need you, too, and Raevyn, and Josh, so gather them up before you go. Do you have Trumps of Corwin and me? If not, take these." He holds out one of each.

"And keep this quiet. No one need know, except your father and Gerard. Tell them, and also tell them you are doing my will, and to keep it from Random and those around him. Now go, I have been away from It long enough." One more thump upon Roland's shoulder, and he turns a corner into nothingness.

[Shutter]

Roland accepts both cards with a nod of thanks. I have both on loan, but I fail to see how redundancy will hurt.

After Dworkin leaves neat trick Roland sips at his coffee while absorbing the scenery and letting his mind wander and proccess. After a few minutes, when the coffee is down to the last swallow, he shuffles away the new Trumps in his personal deck, pulling out his father's in exchange. After stowing the Nightmare's portrait in his satchel he focuses on his father's Trump, extending for contact.

If he gets through; "Hello father, I'd like to talk face to face if you can spare a few moments?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Of course," says Julian, from apparently over a cup of coffee in the dining room. "Excuse me," he nods to someone outside of view, putting down his cup. Exiting the hall, he enters an antechamber nearby, and closes the door.

"Come through here, or shall I come there?"

[Shutter]

"I'm on Kolvir I think. Better privacy here or there?" Roland stands and extends his hand, to pull through or to be pulled, at his father's discretion. Damned magicians and their scrying leading to paranoia...Is the castle bugged or warded I wonder...

[Wired*Nun]

"There, I think." Julian checks his belt for his Trump case, reflexively, then reaches to be brought through.

Looking around with a woodsman's eye, he sits down where Dworkin was a moment ago. "Been talking with someone?" he asks as he picks up Dworkin's cup and pours a hot black fill. Reaching in to a trouser pocket, he pulls out a small lock-blade and opens it halfway, then all the way, then halfway again, finally setting it down on a rock placed between them. The scrimshaw on the handle is exquisite, and Roland can remember his father doing such work from time to time.

"Blocker," he says at Roland's questioning look. "Should interfere with just about anything. So what's on your mind?"

[Shutter]

Another neat trick...

"Aye, great grandfather in fact...I'll try to sum up." A deep breath.

"By now you've heard of the Maze, this new power trying to asssert itself out there in Shadow. It has it's avatar, Nightmare. I got one of her converts, as blindinly confident a fanatic as could be asked, to paint me a Trump of her. I wasn't ready to test myself against her then, so I let it sit for a while. Dworkin found me, or perhaps I called out to him inadvertantly...we got to talking. He has asked me to bring the painting to Corwin, to aim him it would seem at the Nightmare, probably to end or at least neutralize her."

"That's the clear part. Hazzily, he asks that I keep this private. I'm assuming that for political reasons Amber the political body shouldn't know. He asked that I tell you, and Gerard, but to keep the spread of knowledge stopped there."

"It's been an interesting day."

[Wired*Nun]

"Hmm. And indeed hmmm.... They say uneasy lies the head that wears the Crown. Random is becoming trapped by his own good intentions. Trying to work things out diplomatically, where Dad - Oberon - would have just cut to the chase and dictated terms, or punished them. Gets more complicated, too, with members of the family moving into leadership positions of Chaos, Kashfa, other places...Amberites are the nuclear weapons of reality, I suppose. Everyone wants one, because everyone else has them."

[Shutter]

Nuclear weapon?...Ahh, right, some sort of ultimate weapon, very scorched earth...Seems like it fits. Far be it from me to pass judgement on the ruling of such nations. I defended Regan, never sought to rule it.

"Diplomacy only works when all sides are reasonable negotiators. Zealots, tyrants, and madmen through a wrench into the entire notion." He cracks a small smile. "Or so it seems to me with my vast political experience."

"So, this sits alright with you?" Was there some reason other than patronage that made Dworkin single you out for knowledge here?

[Wired*Nun]

"Diplomacy is merely war by other means, Benedict sometimes says. Or vice versa." He smiles thinly, then his expression gentles.

"Roland...I've tried to keep you out of politics. Tried to let you be your own man, not play on loyalties to me. That's not going to be so easy, now. We are all loyal to Amber, its people, and its Crown. Note the order in that Oath. We don't have a constitution, but Random was right to institute that Oath. It means that we do what we do for the good of Amber - even if it means it's not good for Random." He sighs.

"There are always factions...as it stands right now, there is the Crown faction, consisting of Random, Flora and Fiona of our generation, plus their adhherents, whether they know it or not - Landon with Flora, Heldrik with Fiona, of the family. Martin and Elress should be part of that faction but they have always been rebellious, and so are unreliable."

"Another faction consists of Benedict, Gerard, and me. Call us the military faction. With us, more or less, are Loric, Arrotel, Katarzyna, Raevyn - and you, it seems has been decided. I hope it doesn't discomfit you too much. We are all in agreement that stability and justice - I see you've heard the phrase - comes even sometimes above the narrow interests of Amber - or perhaps, we have decided that Amber's greatest interest is stability and justice, no matter what its leaders or people - or Pattern - want at the time."

"Other factions include the Kashfan family - Rinaldo, Jasra, Dunstan, Dalt; Rebmans, loosely including Moire, Martin, Elress, Llewella; Corwin's, including Coral and, in some measure, Merlin and Ghostwheel, though that's a stretch; Delwin and Sand, who still live and I believe still have agents here; and some independents such as Bleys and possibly his son Baarak, Joshuwan - that's his real name by the way, it might matter some time, the Eric construct and Agraynel in their Amber analogue. And Dworkin, of course...who seems to favor us, right now, which balances the Unicorn's favor on Random, to an extent. I'm not even counting factions outside of Amber that affect us. So, I think that's why he wanted you to come to me - to us. To put you firmly in our camp, and so that we would know, and perhaps offer help and guidance."

"It also sounds like Dworkin is trying to set up his two main problems to mitigate each other."

[Shutter]

Roland nods along at his father's exposition. The factions lining up much as he'd seen them. He tries to show no reaction to Landon being placed with Flora. Then why was he riding around with Corwin I wonder... The Fiona Heldrik connection is interesting, and utterly unnexpected. Loric...still haven't met him. And Baarak, haven't even heard his name or seen his Trump yet... That Elress is grouped with Fiona rather than Bleys is noted as well. Time later for geneology discussions...This one might matter.

"It also sounds like Dworkin is trying to set up his two main problems to mitigate each other."

"I'd rather think of Corwin and his pattern as a collaborator than a tool in this move. And at least we're not in opposition to the Crown, just running at a different angle." I wonder what else they're up to....Gerard, Benedict and my father...Not that I really want to know right now...

"On a side note, something you said. Who is Elress, who's daughter? She's managed to get herself shot already by Raevyn, if there's a chance I'll have to put her to the sword at some point I'd like to know who'd be after my blood for it. She was introduced as Bleys's, but you just grouped her as though she were Fiona's. I mean...I guess there's no inherent contradiction there, but, it begs for clarification."

[Wired*Nun]

"I'd rather think of Corwin and his pattern as a collaborator than a tool in this move. And at least we're not in opposition to the Crown, just running at a different angle."

"Not the Crown, perhaps, but the Pattern considers its offspring as competition, especially since Corwins' is expanding its territory. Only the fact that it seems to be taking roughly the same amount from each end that makes it bearable. I don't think Corwin is doing anything to slow it down. I don't think he wants to. I'm not even sure how much Corwin is left in there, and how much his creation influences him."




Who is Elress, who's daughter?


"Well, that's a point of some contention. My opinion? Both. But they can't say that, not with Oberon's decree prohibiting brother-sister procreation still law. Random has wisely not bothered to countermand it. So they can;t exactly both claim her, and I think they are both still a bit embarrassed by the whole thing at some level. So, officially she's Bleys'. Unfortunately she ended up with Brand's temperment, in spades. So if you had to kill her...be damned sure you have a really good reason, or make sure no one can prove it was you. There's no way to call that one. Right now she's under house arrest anyway pending Random's decision on how to punish her latest transgressions."

[Shutter]

"I can see that being a touchy subject...Fair enough." A shrug.

"Well, that covers the saving the universe end of things I think...you've been well though, otherwise?" How would I feel with my only son running around risking his neck stupidly?...

[Wired*Nun]

...maybe concerned, but proud...and how do I know I'm his only anyway, come to think of it.

"Yes, thanks. We're not much for small talk, you and I." He sits back, stretching his booted feet out by the fire and resting the coffee cup on his chest, putting his hands behind his head to look up at the sky. "Arden is prosperous, and everything I want it to be. My people are content, and I can range my forests as befits my temperment, barring stupidities from the Realm interfering. Sorry, I didn't mean you, or your mission. And you? You seem to be...maturing, not to yield to cliche`. This pleases me."

[Shutter]

A smile spreads on Roland's face. "Thank you...I'm getting along." He opens his mouth to add more, fails to find the words, and goes quiet for a moment.

"I'm glad we're of the same mind on this business." He waves his hands indicating all the noise and intrigue currently spilling about Amber and beyond. "Apples, trees and all that I guess, but I'm relieved nevertheless...Tis good to hear you say that about Arden, encouraging to see that we don't all become melancholy roamers without a home or contentment, or worse." Perhaps we can all coexist in something as small as an infinite universe.

(edited:changed wording just slightly.)

[Wired*Nun]

"As goes Amber, so goes Arden. That's frankly the main reason I am concerned about stability in Amber. Anything that reduces chaos - small 'c' - near us is arguably a good thing. If Dworkin's plan quiets things down in the unstable middle...my blessings upon it."

He slides his hand into his tunic, taking out a case and withdrawing a slim cigarlike smokable, and lights it with a pressurised lighter. After offering it to Roland, he smokes contemplatively, still staring up at the stars.

[Shutter]

Roland accepts one, stiffling a cough on the first couple of drags before he gets the hang of it again. He looks up at the stars and savors the taste. I should probably get going or something...but it's been so long since dad and I got to just sit around. His mind turns, wondering what the next few days bring, Corwin, Nightmare, general risky undertakings. It's nice to have a plan again...If this goes well I can be back in time to talk to Random about Canthus in the morning, as I said I would. I'd like that.

[Wired*Nun]

After a few minutes of companionable silence, Julian sits up, catching his cup in midair and setting it down. "If I stay there too long, I'll fall asleep."

Picking up the knife and closing the blade, he hands it to Roland. "You saw what I did? Good. Use it well. Good luck. Walk back? I think we can be back to the Castle in under an hour, if we push the pace a bit."

[Shutter]

Roland's eyes widen a bit at the gift. He accepts it with a bow of the head. "Thank you, thank you very much." One hell of a useful gift.

"Walking sounds good. You don't mind leading the way?" As they walk Roland takes mental notes of the terrain. I'm sadly ignorant of the geography of Kolvir...

[Wired*Nun]

Julian nods once, sharply, then sets off with a long stride to the south, within ten minutes they can see the lights of the city below and farther south, coming into and out of sight as they crest ridges. Soon, pastureland turns to fields as they close on the lower lands, and they walk easily under the moonlight on the farm roads. Tir'na Nog'th hovers ghostly in the air behind their right shoulders, and dogs bark distantly or nearly as they sense the walking men.

One of Amber's constabulary patrols, four men on horseback, looks them over from across a corner inn's green at a crossroads. They recognize Julian when they get close, the leader saluting. "Quiet night, sir," calls the constable.

"Keep it that way," replies Roland's father with easy grace.

Villages soon blend in to town and suburb, and they cut across the grain of the city, approaching the castle from the north. The guard lets them in the northern needle's eye, ducking through the low doorway. Greeting those on duty there, Julian leads Roland into the guard's simple wardroom, waving the men back to their seats and bunks while he grabs a couple of pottery mugs off the wall. He runs them full of chill water with a quick pump of the handle, handing one to Roland and draining his own, then refilling it. The water runs down his thin, trimmed beard, and the teeth of his smile are white and sharp in his strong-featured face. A pang of nostalgia comes to Roland suddenly, remembering times like these in the past, wandering and living simply.

[Shutter]

Roland recieves the mug with thanks. He drains half the mug following it up with a deep sigh of contentment.

"Been too long since we've wandered Dad...but for now, I should be getting on with things." Funny how we almost communicate better silently.

[Wired*Nun]

"Yes. Good luck." A clap on the shoulder, then he turns to cross the inner sward, going in a side door of the castle.

[Shutter]

After Julian is gone Roland pulls up his Pattern lens, taking a cursory glance at the knife Julian gave him. Once his curiosity has been quieted he puts it away securely in a pocket and shifts out Gerard's Trump. Quieting his mind and its nervousness, he focuses on the Trump.

[Wired*Nun]

Roland sees the anti-trump function as he is versed in Trump. However, there is something else it does that he cannot divine.

Gerard answers promptly, "Who?" He has stands on the deck of a sailing ship, on a slight following sea.

[Shutter]

"Roland sir. Julian's son. If you can spare a minute or two to talk could I come through to you and then be off?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Aye," he says laconically, and pulls Roland through with one massive paw.

He stands aboard a sailing ship, the only sound the wind and the rush of water past the hull. Three-masted, it looks roughly like a 74-gun, 3-masted ship of the line, with some alterations. It has torsion engines on the decks, uncovered now that they are in Golden Circle waters, Roland presumes.

Gerard and Roland are now on the quarterdeck, looking down on the evening watch as they sail.

[Shutter]

The wind and the smell of the open ocean would have refreshed Roland if his night air walk accros Kolvir hadn't done it already. He looks around for a brief moment while gaining what he can in the way of sea legs.

"A fine ship. The ocean is a style of travel I seem to have neglected..." Roland pulls out the scrimshaw pocket knife and opens then half closes it in the prescribed fashion. I figure Gerard will recognize this, or at least the style. He holds it at his side, hopeful that he's using the device correctly.

If it appears no one else is within earshot.

"I'm on an errand for Dworkin, and he bade me tell you and Julian, but to see that the spread of information stopped there. There could be political reprecussions I believe." He pauses to give Gerard a chance to interrupt, should he feel like it. Never know when a King's Messenger will be staying below you behind thin bulkheads.

[Wired*Nun]

Gerard's eyes flick to Roland's hand, then his black-maned head turns like a turret to look into Roland's eyes. "I care little for politics," he rumbles. "and I care little for the reasons behind your confidences. I will keep them."

[Shutter]

Roland is not easily intimidated, but Gerard does the trick without trying it would seem.

"I'm on my way to visit Corwin at Dworkin's bidding, I'm bringing him a Trump I obtained of the Maze's patron, Nightmare. The general goal seems to be neutralizing it and it's grasping threat." He pauses for a heartbeat, cowardice giving him a compelling reason to stop talking. "He asked that I bring Raevyn and Joshua to help. I suspect they'll agree." I hope I read that correctly...that Dworkin wanted me to notify the parents of the youngsters he was sending out against the Maze. Else I might find myself on a boat, in a large ocean, with a very large very angry father. Dad wasn't too worried about it, that's some comfort.

[Wired*Nun]

A phantom pain crosses Gerard's face, and he replies, "If Dworkin says she's needed...I will not coddle her. Good that she will be in the company of that moonstruck Josh, who will do a young man's utmost to keep her from harm, I'd reckon. Fine. You keep her safe. Tell Corwin the same. Tell him I have not forgotten anything, nor will I."

[Shutter]

Roland smiles a bit at the mention of moonstruck Josh. His face is grows serious by the end though. A man's daughter is no small responsibility, even if she could reach in to my mind and snap me in two. "You have my word Uncle." For as much use as I can be.

He puts away Gerard's Trump, taking out the one for Amber in its place.

"I'll be about it then. Thank you for the trust." After any parting words he focuses on the Trump, and steps through to Amber. Closing and putting away the knife upon arrival.

Quite the little Trump socialite today aren't I? He thinks while he walks to his quarters and shuffling out Raevyn's Trump. Once in his room he focuses on sending out the next call.

[Wired*Nun]

Gerard grunts ominously at Roland's thanks.

Stepping through to the Main Hall, Roland notes Flora's door clicking shut as his second foot hits the floor. Coincidence, an oversight, or an invitation? Doubt it's anything like chance.

Soon, he's in his quarters, focusing on Raevyn's Trump.

[Wired*Nun]

Continue in the combined thread.