Alexander's Chronicle: Chapter 3

As soon as I passed through the thicket Marcel had fled into, I forgot all thoughts of shapeshifting. There were three unfamiliar creatures about twenty yards away from me. Two were gangly long-limbed creatures with brown and grey mottled skin, bigger versions of the little crossbowmen who had harrassed us earlier. They were holding dull metal shortswords but were otherwise naked. As I watched they shifted in form, their legs and arms becoming shorter and more muscled, their torsos gaining a grey, armoured carapace. Shapeshifters, like me. But these had to be from the Courts of Chaos. The third creature stood just over six-and-a-half feet tall. It was humanoid but its skin was black and unreflective, seeming to suck light into it. Its limbs and torso appeared to be armoured but very smooth, almost slippery. Weapon strikes might simply slide off it.

The creatures were looking at the shrubbery to my left; I couldn't tell what was in there. The shiny black creature was smirking and saying "My, my, is that really half an Amberite I can see? Come out, little fox...come out..." The two two grey creatures finally noticed me and started, then hefted their swords menacingly. I was less than impressed.

That had to be Marcel they were tormenting. I called out to him, "Use the cards Fiona made to escape! Tell Father that Chaos has come to Arden!" Before I could lure the grey guys away to ambush them...

I heard trampling noises behind me as two rangers came galloping up through the brush. My helpers were every bit as subtle as Shiny's. The rangers started to dismount as one told me, "The attackers have been dealt with, sir. The Princess refuses to be taken to safety."

Marcel decided to be heroic too. He shouted from his shrub, "I'm not leaving you behind, little brother! Either we both run or we both stay and fight!" I was not amused by the whole thing.

The two grey creatures advanced towards me, trying to cut me off from Shiny and Marcel. Shiny skulked towards Marcel's hiding place, jeering "Come out and fight, little one".

Without turning back towards the rangers, I said "Dealt with? I have to take your word for it. Please keep these two," I indicated the grey humanoids, "out of my way and leave the shiny one to me." Not waiting for the rangers engage the grey creatures, I charged past them, intending to grapple the shiny being. The rangers must have done their job, because the grey guys failed to take me from behind.

As I closed on Shiny, a big red fox leaped out from the undergrowth at Shiny. Marcel-as-fox seemed almost a blur of movement to me, and moved notably faster than I could, twisting his body to take him under the Shiny's upraised sword. Shiny, however, was just as fast. It stepped backwards and brought its heavy sword down in a strike that the leaping fox just could not avoid. One of the fox's forepaws fell, twitching and bleeding, to the ground. The rest of the fox crashed into Shiny, knocking it off-balance. Shiny tripped over a tree root and crashed onto its back. The fox also fell to the ground, rolled and pulled itself upright on his three remaining legs. The stump began to stop bleeding. I didn't look around. I knew all too well that the fox would survive. He'd done his part, getting us into this mess.

So my big brother was a shapeshifter, too. And after that little display of hysteria at Father's lodge three years ago. I was a little more angry than surprised.

I was madder at Shiny than I was at Marcel though, and it still had a sword. It started to roll backwards onto its feet as I jumped on it. Behind me, I heard a croaking exhalation as a ranger took down one of the grey creatures. I began to feel a bit better about my troops.

Shiny had almost gotten back to its feet when I crashed into it. It managed to ram its sword into my shoulder before I could knock it away. I almost went berserk when the sword went out the other side. We crashed to the ground and I proceeded to beat the living daylights out of Shiny. I wanted to take this one alive, but if I were to break one or two of Shiny's limbs in the process, I wasn't be heartbroken over it. I tried to shapeshift some armor but couldn't concentrate. Shiny was good and slippery and managed to roll out from under me and leap to its feet. I had cracked its armor in several places and blood, or something, was oozing out of it in those places. Once it was on its feet, Shiny took a careful strike at the hilt of its sword, causing it to shift in my shoulder and open the wound further. I could shapeshift well enough to close it again, but the pain was really distracting. I staggered back up tore Shiny's sword out of my shoulder and charged Shiny again, holding its sword in my hand, feeling a little sick from loss of blood. There was no way Shiny could run off in its condition and I could track him in the underbrush pretty easily. It could speak Thari and so should know how to surrender.

But Marcel had to play hero again. The big fox hobbled in front of Shiny, trapping Shiny between us. He snarled, "You don't look so tough now without that sword. Maybe you'd like to try to fight both of us now, friend!" My heart sank. Shiny outweighed Marcel by a large margin and was capable of shapeshifting claws and teeth as impressive as Marcel's. If Shiny charged Marcel, I'd have to kill it.

Shiny did that thing. It ran towards Marcel, and then twisted to one side, and tried to dive towards me. Before it sidestepped however, I slammed its sword into its side, not realizing that the lunge towards Marcel was only a feint. Shiny fell and rolled onto its side, then groaned as the sword knocked against a fallen log and slid further into it. Now it knew how I'd felt. It spit dark red blood from its mouth and snarled, "You Amberites will never suborn the Courts! Never!" Then its body started to twist and writhe as its chitinous armour, first on its neck, then its chest and then all over started to bubble outwards and glow red. Shiny's face seemed strangely calm, almost smiling, as smoke rose from its bubbling, red hot armor. I realized then that it really was dying.

I could hear noises of approaching riders from behind me and Morgan's bark of command. I looked back that way and saw the two rangers dispatching the last of the grey creatures. One appeared hurt, but not badly. Marcel made a noise and I turned back to him. He was still a big fox with three paws. At the moment, he was a rather frightened-looking fox. He looked up at me and said, "Please, do not tell anyone of what you saw of me. They might not understand and react badly. Especially do not tell Morgan. I will see you again, soon!" He turn and scuttled off into the forest and disappeared into the brush and trees.

I cursed him for an idiot and pulled the sword out of Shiny, caring little whether that finally killed it, and I think it did. Shiny's body at last burst into flame as the sword was withdrawn and it cried out one last time. I dropped the sword and stared at Shiny's bubbling body while the riders approached.

Morgan, Nimue, four rangers and Nimue's servant Reia came galloping up to me. Shiny's body was now a bonfire beside me. Nimue pulled her horse to a stop sharply beside me, almost falling in the process. She murmured something quietly to Morgan. I squatted down to examine Shiny's broadsword. "Don't touch it!" she says sharply to me, climbing off Primrose's back. I didn't laugh. It wouldn't have been fair.

The rangers started searching the for some signs of the attackers. One of them almost jumped out of his skin when Alistair stepped out from the trees. I felt faintly angry, the idiot must have abandoned Nimue and the others and snuck back to see what was going on. He was fortunate to be alive.

Speaking of which, Marcel was the next to come creeping out of the undegrowth, his right forearm wrapped in a bandage improvised from his shirt. Nimue gasped and ran over to tend him, saying, "Morgan, he needs a surgeon and Alex could probably use some help too. Can you get him away from here fast, or shall I?" I felt a some irritation over this treatment but could not stir myself to protest.

Like an idiot, Marcel pulled his arm away from Nimue, "Oh, there's no need for that my dear. My arm is quite fine." Nimue noted that there seemed to be no hand at the end of it and persisted until he unwrapped his arm, revealing a partially bloody stump. The cut appear to have been clean, but the bleeding has already stopped and the wound appears to have already started healing. A shapeshifter myself, I knew how that worked. Marcel went on, "See my dear, it really isn't all that bad. It also appears to be healing quite nicely, also." And here I thought he didn't want Morgan to know he was a shapeshifter! But what do I know...

Nimue certainly didn't seem to be fooled. "So it does. How very... fortunate" she said in a chilly voice.

Probably hoping to deflect attention, I think, Marcel looked around and said worriedly, "I do think that Alex does need some tending to though. He took a rather vicious blow from that creature."

Morgan demanded a medic for me, so the sergeant responded, "Corporal Barnes is a good medic, your highness, and has tended to Prince Alexander before" he comments.

I tried to rise to my feet and realized that the adrenaline had started to wear off and that shock was setting in. I was shaking and frightened by what had just happened. Father was going to be furious when he learned how badly this event had gone, but someone had to tell him, as soon a possible. I pulled Father's Trump out of my belt pouch and focussed on it.

Surprisingly, contact with Father came quickly. He was somewhere near the edge of Arden, armored and holding a bloodied sword in his hand. There was no sign of fighting, however. He looked at me and asked: "Where are you? What's the situation?"

In the background, I could hear Marcel's sarcastic tone, "Well, I must say, this is the most fun I have ever had while on a hunt. We really must do this again sometime." Next time, I swore silently, he would not be invited. Marcel added "Oh my, I certainly hope that the cooks have not overcooked the lamb. There is nothing quite as dreadful as overcooked lamb. Tough as a tree bark, you know."

I tuned Marcel out with effort. I had to speak aloud; I couldn't focus my thoughts otherwise and that turned out to be a problem. "We-we're alright, Father. Sort of. We're in Arden, about to head back to the lodge. We were ambushed by Chaos things. One c-cut off Marcel's hand, h-he's bandaged now. I-I think we've killed them all, but all that's left is the sword that...was used on Marcel. I'll bring it to the Lodge. D-do you need help?" Not exactly a proper report and barely intelligible, but it was the best I could do.

Father didn't react either to the horror story I'd just told him, or the problem I'd had telling it, but merely said "All finished here - bring me through" and held out a gauntleted hand. An instant later, he stood before me. He released my hand and turned slowly round, scanning the clearing and taking us all in. His gaze passed quickly over Morgan who was also holding a Trump, slower over Marcel, and stopped at Nimue, Alistair and Reia.

"Princess Nimue. Prince Alistair," he bowed slightly, "I were not informed you were in Arden, nor that you knew my sons. I trust you have not been inconvenienced." We all stared at him, bewildered. How could he have forgotten about the hunt, especially given what a mess it had been when he delegated it to me? He then drove his sword into the ground and went down on one knee to examine Shiny's smouldering remains.

I heard Morgan's voice in my head, "Act calm". I had a weird double vision of Morgan standing immediately in front of me and also several steps away. He nodded and broke Trump contact and my vision returned to normal.

Nimue returned Father's bow. "Your Royal Highness" she replied, with only a slightly shaky voice "Thank you for your concern. Neither of us is harmed. I regret very much that Marcel and Alex have been hurt, I fear very much on my account."

The corporal came over to me with his first aid kit, now that I had no excuse to drive him off with, but Nimue intercepted him and took his first aid kit away as she spoke to Father. She came over, unwrapped a bandage and glared, although not very fiercely. "Let me see that shoulder, Alex. Now." No point struggling anymore. I unbuckled my armor with my good hand, shapeshifting the wound open again. It hurt like hell. The adrenaline wore off at that point and I started shaking. Why the hell did she have to see me like this? Softly, Nimue added "I'm sorry Alex. I shouldn't have come." I went from feeling dazed and confused to feeling miserable and guilty.

I tried to smile at her, although I doubt I did a very good job, "I'm awfully glad you came, Princess. Sorry I d-didn't organize a more p-pleasant hunt..." Oh, damn...

She put her arm around me, actually remembering only to touch my good shoulder and pushed me to sit down. She started mopping up the blood, getting a fair bit of it on her beautiful, diplomatic-embassy clothes, and bandaged the wound.

As Nimue tended to me, Marcel looked at me, brow furrowed, and asked, "Alex, might you clear up a little matter that is confusing me? Julian says that he had no knowledge that Princess Nimue and Lord Alistair were here in Forest Arden, yet you mentioned previously that Julian arranged this hunt. Could you possibly explain this to me?" He turned to Father and said, in a hostile tone, "Or perhaps you would like to explain, Julian." Morgan groaned and put his head in his hands.

Beside me, Nimue frowned at Marcel. "Leave him alone, Marcel. Alex doesn't have your... advantages in healing himself. We were attacked by shapeshifters - surely you of all people can work out how Alex, not to mention our own security, was deceived?" She held me rather protectively. I felt very guilty, I did have Marcel's "advantages", I just didn't want to draw attention to them and I'd lost plenty of blood when Shiny's sword had kept the wound open.

Marcel made me feel even guiltier then by rushing up and kneeling in front of me, "I am sorry, Alex. I did not mean to take out my frustrations on you. I have acted the fool once again. Can you ever forgive me?" Father continued to inspect Shiny's body and to ignore us.

I stammered some kind of reply to Marcel; I know longer recall what it was. He seemed content enough. He stood and replied: "Rest, brother. Once you are well, perhaps we can talk." He turned to Father and said sharply, "For now, I will settle for Julian's explanation. What do have to say for yourself, Julian?"

Father had been riffling through his Trumps. "Explanations can wait," he said, handing Morgan a card. "Use this. The message is 'Julian requests assistance', repeat 'Julian requests assistance'. Go now."

Morgan looked puzzled, but replied, "Yes, Father." He took the Trump and dismounted, holding his horse's reins. He looked down at the Trump for a moment, then stepped forward and disappeared into a rainbow pattern of colors. Oddly enough, he did not seem to be taking anyone's hand (as one usually does when "stepping through" a Trump).

But Father was now ready for his explanations. "Marcel, Alex. What happened here?"

I staggered to my feet with Nimue's help. Marcel opened his mouth, so before he could dig himself any deeper, I jumped in. "P-please, sir, I-i can explain. I-i had invited Princess Nimue and whatever guests she wished to bring t-to a hunt and a banquet, a-as per your orders. The princess arrived with the retinue you see here and I had asked Marcel, Morgan and several rangers to accompany us. Although I had scouted the area...yesterday, we saw no sign of deer or other suitable prey for an hour or so. Then a huge stage broke out of the woods and we...we gave chase. Morgan wounded it with his bow, but it d-didn't slow down. It was running straight ahead, the dogs couldn't keep up and seemed...distracted like something else was around. M-marcel galloped up next to the beast and b-blinded it it with his cloak, b-but it wouldn't stop. I c-called a halt and we began to retreat but little...monsters from the trees began firing arrows at us." How to explain Marcel's folly in rushing off ahead? I couldn't and I wasn't going to try. I could barely speak as it was.

I took a deep breath, trying, unsuccessfully to quell my stammer. "We killed them, but Marcel was up ahead. M-morgan agreed to stay and guard the Princess. I went ahead to help Marcel rejoin us and these creatures had him cornered. He tried to escape but the one that had the-this sword." I pointed at the black broadsword on the ground, "C-cut his hand right off. I jumped the bastard...He just ran his sword through my shoulder and then I pounded the sh-the living daylights out of him. He squirmed off and tried to run for it, b-but Marcel cut him off before he could g-get to the woods. He ran for it and I...just ran him through. He-he said that Amber would never never suborn the Courts. And then...he died and everyone g-got back here and I called you. That's all." After a moment, I added, "Morgan killed the stag, sir. Shot it just before we were ambushed." I was shaking pretty badly at this point, Nimue helped me sit down again. I sat there and waited for Father to tear my head off.

Marcel then pipes up, "There appear to be some holes in the events leading up to this moment, however. You have said that you had no knowledge of Princess Nimue and Lord Alistair's presence in Arden, nor did you even know that we," he gestured at Morgan, himself, and me, "Knew them. Yet, Alex had made mention at least twice, that you had given him orders, or at least permission, to hold a hunt here in Arden for our guests. I would say that there is something truly peculiar going on amidst the activities of this hunt...wouldn't you agree Julian?"

Before he answered Marcel, Father turned towards myself and Nimue "The corporal can finish working on Alex now, your royal highness. Thank you for your aid. I suggest however that you, Prince Alistair and your bodyguard return to the saftey of Rebma. Now." There was no room for argument in his tone.

Nimue helped me to my feet again, "I'm sorry, Princess," I muttered to her, surprised at how weak my voice had gotten.

Nimue looked at Alistair, then back at Father, looking pale and determined. "Lord Lirset is free to leave if he wishes. My cousins have been hurt because of me, and I will stay until I know the truth of what happened." Reia and Alistair moved to stand between her and Father.

"It seems you have failed to inherit your father's good sense," Father replied calmly. "I cannot guarantee your safety here at present and I am responsible to the King. And to your father's memory. When we have found the truth of what has happened I shall send one of my sons to Rebma to inform you. In the meantime, you and your childish, egotistical behaviour are unwelcome here and bring possible danger. After all, we have not yet eliminated the possibility of Rebman involvement in this plot. So, for the final time, leave now."

I cringed at his words. How could he say this to Nimue? But I've never known Father to do anything without good reason. He stood looking down at her, hands on his hips. I had no doubt he'd pick her up and carry her right back to Faiella-bionen if she refused to go.

I thought I saw tears in Nimue's eyes when Father mentioned Eric. Very quietly, she said, "I have never heard that my father's good sense included turning his back on members of his family when they were in danger. If it had, he might still be alive. It was his memory tempted me to stay. Since you make it clear I am unwelcome and untrusted, I am happy to leave. Forgive my intrusion. It will not occur again." She drew a Trump from her pocket right there and then and stared into it. Reia glares at Father and moved to her side. Alistair gave Father a mocking bow and smirked as he walked back to Nimue's side. I saw her reach out her hand to someone through the Trump contact. Alistair and Reia took her arms and they vanished as Morgan had a few minutes before. I waved to her as she disappeared.

Much to my chagrin, Father seemed relieved to see the Rebmans gone. He turned to me and asked quietly, "So, son, how did all this start?"

I swallowed and looked back, "You just walked up to me a several days ago, the last time I s-saw you in fact, and told me that you were supposed to plan a hunt for the princess of Rebma. You had delegated it to a steward and he had messed it up, so you wanted me to take care of it and I could ask Morgan and Marcel to help. Y-you said that you couldn't do it because you were handling something for the King."

Marcel backed me up on this, "Yes, that is what Alex told me a few days ago when he called me and asked me to help him prepare for this hunt. I had assumed that that was precisely what had happened because you have been known, pardon for the comment...but you have been known to drop things when you have other matters on your mind." He looked back at me, "I'm sorry Alex...please continue." I just wish he wouldn't provoke Father when we were in trouble, even if Father does pride himself on his (generally) even temper...

Before I could say anything more, Father put up a hand and said "Wait." After a moment, he reached forwards with the same hand and someone appeared through a trump contact before him. It was another new relative, Benedict, Father's eldest half-brother, who I'd seen on one of Father's trumps. He was a military man by profession and obsession, Father had explained.

"Situation?" he asked Father, scanning us and the surroundings.

"I was impersonated by a *shapeshifter*, who ordered Alexander to arrange a hunt with my sons and the children of Moire and Llewella. A decoy led the group into an ineffective ambush. Marcel is about to explain why he was ahead of the group facing what this thing once was. And exactly what happened afterwards." I winced at Father's venemous use of the term "shapeshifter" and sighed when I realized I'd failed to hide Marcel's culpability from him.

While Father spoke, Benedict leaned down to pick up and examine Shiny's black sword. He nodded once and then handed it to a ranger with a quiet instruction. Then he turned to face Marcel. They stood for a couple of seconds before Marcel realized that Benedict wasn't going to say anything. I was very grateful not to be in his situation at that moment, not that I'd ever have been crazy enough to get there. Of course, Father probably had another bone to pick with me after he'd sorted out the facts...

Marcel cleared his throat and said, "Ah...well...yes, let me continue. As I was saying, Alex asked Morgan and myself to accompany him on this hunt. I had assumed at first that my role was merely to act as co-host and to arrange the dinner. However, during the hunt, it appeared that I might be needed for much more." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Ah yes, now where was I? Oh yes, approximately 15 to 20 minutes ago, our hunting party was on the lookout for some game, when we came across a stag that appeared to be running from something. At first, we all gave chase, with Alex and myself taking the lead. Of course, astride Josephine, I was able to outstrip the rest of the party and close on the stag.

"By this time, I concluded that there might be more to the stag, and decided to try to capture it alive. When my attempt with my cloak failed, someone attempted to bring it down with an arrow. When this failed, I reined in Josephine as the stag ran deeper into the woods.

"To my surprise, when I dismounted and began to tie Josephine, I saw the (in a strained tone while looking at Julian) *shapeshifters* in question. Seizing the moment, I ran into the woods to vanquish them, but sadly was overpowered and suffered a grevious wound.

"Alex then came to my rescue, and with the help of a few of the rangers, was able to slay the one who appeared to be the leader." Then, looking at Benedict and Julian, "And that is where we are at the moment, more or less." I bit my lip. There really was nothing I wanted to say about this.

"How many did you see?" Benedict asked without looking at Marcel, stalking around the clearing and peering at tracks and so forth. As Marcel answered, Benedict set off in the direction from which Morgan and his group had come. Two rangers remained in the clearing, wrapping Shiny's burnt body in blankets.

Father kept pace with Benedict and beckoned for us to follow, then suddenly stopped and said "Trump call." Benedict moves carefully to stand in front of Father, as if to ambush anyone dangerous Father brought through. I was a little appalled that he thought Father that stupid. Our uncle was probably one of the truly paranoid members of the family. Father just held out his hand and there was Morgan, still leading his horse.

As he came through, Morgan said, "Thank you, Father, but I am not sure what it is that I have, as you say, 'well done.'"

Father nods at Benedict and said, "You asked him to come and help us."

Morgan turned and saw Benedict behind him and bowed slightly, "Uncle, and honor and a pleasure, until recently unexpected." Benedict turned and continued walking back towards the ambush site. I suspected that he really was a few bricks shy a load.

As we followed, "Where have our friends, the Princess Nimue, and Alistair, gotten themselves off to?"

I answered, "Father sent Nimue and the others home. They used a Trump."

Benedict searched the ambush site as carefully as he had the clearing where we'd faced Shiny. He examined the bodies and weapons of the attackers. "Kasu-kerai" he commented eventually.

"I did wonder," agreed Father, who had been looking round himself, careful to keep out of Benedict's way. "Morgan was - I understand - present throughout the attack here and can tell us what happened." He and Benedict turned to face Morgan.

"Yes." Morgan says, "we were pursuing a large stag toward this place, when Alexander and I noticed that it was behaving, well, strangely. Specifically, it was running in a straight line, rather than running evasively, while being shot at and chased by around a ton of dogs. Perhaps Marcel, Nimue, Alistair, or some of the others noticed the strange behavior also, but only Alexander voiced anything on the subject. At this point, I elected, to attempt to incapacitate the creature - thinking that it might be a shapechanger - such things have invaded the Shadow where I was raised. While this was happening, Marcel was pacing the creature, trying to bring it down by blinding it with his cloak. It managed to avoid this, however.

"Well, at this point, both Alexander and Nimue were convinced that something was dreadfully wrong, and I was beginning to agree. Looking around, I noticed that we were rapidly approaching the tree line, and that the whole place looked like the perfect setting for an ambush. I then added my voice to those of Alexander and Nimue, telling Marcel to abandon his chace. Whereas he did get clear of the thing so that I could finish it off, he then dismounted and disappeared into the forest."

Benedict stood there impassively. Father looked at Marcel and said quietly, "We may talk about this later, son." I said nothing.

"I was closest to the woods by then, feeling both very exposed, torn between the desire to pursue Marcel, and the absolute certainty that it was a trap. That's when a creature, transfixed by one of Alistair's arrows, dropped from a tree, most sincerely dead. We spent the next several minutes dealing with these ambushers, who indeed turned out to be shapeshifters. They were armed with crossbows in addition to their natural armaments. In the melee, several rangers were hit. I incapacitated one of them, intending to question it later, but had to kill it after both Alexander and then Alistair tore off into the woods after Marcel. I was beginning to feel that one or more of them might have been under a spell, and I didn't want to leave living something that, for all I knew, was responsible for it."

Father looked at the ground frowning a bit and his face coloring slightly. This meant that we'd really embarrassed him, although Benedict said nothing. I felt rather angry at Morgan's description. I had not "run off"; he'd consented to take care of the retreat and then blown it. Was this just his way of covering his own backside?

Morgan continued, "Then, finally, after consulting with the Princess, thinking that my brothers and cousin were having their senility early, just to get it over with, and making sure sufficient rangers were left behind to care for the wounded and fend off another possible attack, we followed. By 'we' in this case I mean the sergeant and corporal here, two of their men, and the Princess and me. By the time we found our quarry, they were already in the state in which you found them, and the fight seemed to be over. I used my Trumps then, to assure myself that the Alexander and Marcel that I saw were, in fact the real ones, but the Princess, unfortunately, had no trump for Alistair to do the same."

"That's about it, Father, Uncle. I may well have left out some details, but I'm sure your questions will jog my memory. Also, Alexander and Marcel can probably fill in some of the earlier details. By the way, who is this "Kasu-kerai" person, anyway?"

Benedict looked briefly down at the bodies of the grey-brown, ambushing creatures. "*They* are Kasu-kerai".

"Oh." said Morgan.

"It is a species relatively common in the Courts," added Father, "Bred over generations to perform as servants and be absolutely loyal to individual Houses. They are not soldiers and are never used as such. Until now." I tried to recall any such creatures in my childhood home, but could not.

"Young bucks after a name" commented Benedict, not, I presumed, referring to the Kasu-kerai.

"Yes," Father agreed further, "they wouldn't have access to soldiers but could expect to round up a dozen or so Kasu-kerai without anyone else noticing. Now, Morgan, as you were saying?"

Marcel interrupted at this point, waving his stump in the air, "Excuse me, I do not mean to be rude, Uncle, but you seem to know quite a bit about this subject. Do you have any guess as to who might have done such a thing? Also, who precisely do you think was their target?"

Morgan ignored Marcel and said to Father and Benedict, "Well, I thought I was finished. Unless you have questions." he began, then, hesitantly, "Of course, I have some questions of my own."

"First, these 'young bucks after a name' as Uncle Benedict describes them... they must already have someone with a 'name' giving them information. After all, they ambushed *us*, relatively unimportant and relatively *unknown* people in and around Amber... And yet they knew where to find us. That would take some doing. Or, and I don't like to think it, an insider. What did they hope to gain? And if they knew anything at all about us, why did they not know that these 'Kasu-kerai' would be totally insufficient (assuming their aim was to kill or capture us) in the numbers they used? If their aim was some other, more obscure goal, then they may have actually achieved it. But what was it? Finally, who was their leader? The one whom Marcel and Alexander dispatched? One of these 'young bucks', or someone of substance? And, of course, father, when Alexander brought you through, your blade was bloodied... what has been happening with you? Well, those are my questions, for what they're worth. How are Alex and Marcel? What are we to do now? And do any of you have more questions for me?"

He then proceeded to speculate on the answers to his own questions before either of the elders could speak up, which I thought a little rude. "Just as an educated guess, I would say that the "why" could have been to disrupt whatever Father and Uncle Benedict were about. If suddenly three of Julian's sons were hostage, well, we could be used as bargaining chips. Likewise the son of Llewella. Or, and I think this more likely, we, meaning the three sons of Julian, and the son of Llewella, were expendable, and their goal was to capture the Princess of Rebma. This would be both a major embarrasment to Amber, and a convenient means of strongarming King Random and the rest of the royal family."

Marcel, of course, could not keep silent either. "Ah yes, but where does that leave Alistair? He seemed to be quite unharmed and appeared at a rather opportune time after our (Alex and Marcel's) encounter with the shapeshifters. Also, what of this 'suborning of Chaos' mess. Their leader seemed quite adamant that we as a whole would never bend Chaos to the will of Amber. Not that I would ever wish to anyhow. "

Morgan said, "Well, like I said, I used Trumps on both you and Alex, to make sure you were the genuine articles. I told Princess Nimue about it, and she said that it was a good idea, but that she had no Trump for Alistair. I may just have inherited a healthier-than-normal dose of the family paranoia, but there is no way to know that the Alistair that we saw entering the clearing where you and Alex had your fight is the same Alistair that we met simultaneously with the Princess. And, of course, we just sent the Princess off with this maybe not quite Alistair person. Wouldn't that be a kick in the codpiece. To beat them in a fight, and then just hand them the prize afterwards..."

"Her only trump is of Moire" remarked Benedict.

Wincing, Marcel finally changed the subject, "Perhaps we could move to more comfortable surroundings, Julian? As I remember, there is a warm lodge not far away with a warm meal waiting for someone to partake of it." He looked at Morgan and at me, "What do you say, fellows?"

I nodded and Morgan replied, "I'm for that, if we have some reason to believe that Princess Nimue is in no immediate danger, or that there's nothing that we can do about it if she is."

I finally realized what Morgan was saying. I turned to Father and pleaded, "C-can't you call Llewella w-with a Trump and warn her?"

Marcel cried, "Yes, Julian, we must get to Rebma immediately! Nimue may be in grave danger! "

"I shall, communicate your concern to Llewella" said Father. "I'm sure Moire, and possibly Nimue herself, will be able to detect a more than fleeting impersonation."

"First, as Marcel suggests, perhaps we could repair to somewhere more comfortable?" Father looked across at Benedict as he asked this. Benedict nodded.

We rode to the lodge. It seemed like forever. I was too tired to even listen to my brothers. I ate like a starved animal once we reached the lodge and Marcel's lamb (what had he expected us to do with the deer we were going to catch?), as did Marcel. I didn't touch the wine, realizing that in my weakened state, it would knock me right over. Marcel did likewise, but Morgan didn't notice anything. Benedict seemed to relax once he had something to eat, but Father refused a plate and stayed standing, occasionally pacing the length of the chamber.

"Now," said Father, "you have asked some valid questions to which we must try to find answers.

"Firstly, the identity of the attackers. Clearly they were from the Courts and were a group apparently not acting on any kind of official mission. Their choice of troops makes that plain enough. As Benedict surmised, it seems likely that the attack was planned and led by one or more of the younger Chaosians. More precisely who they were, I cannot say. Do you have any further ideas, Benedict?"

"House Chanicut. The weapons bore its seal and the black sword was a named one of the kind owned by young, high-ranked lords."

Father nodded. "Second, the reason for the attack. I should mention here that I was with a patrol on the far side of Kolvir. I had received reports that unusual creatures were terrorizing the farmers of the foothills. We went to the site of the most recent attack and tracked the attacker. It proved to be a creature I have seen before, something that Morgan has christened a 'seeker'. Assuming the attacks were connected, it seems likely that the seeker was sent to occupy me during the ambush, rather than vice versa. Since the footsoldiers used were so unsuitable I do not think the ambush was a serious attempt to kill or kidnap anyone. I surmise that whoever was behind it merely wanted to be able to boast in the Courts that he had led an ambush in Arden against Amberites. And," his face darkened, "Had successfully imitated me in front of one of my sons. However briefly. Indeed, if the attack had led to one or more of your deaths or abduction then the consequences would have been very serious. I doubt those responsible would have been leniently treated by their superiors when they were discovered.

"So, to conclude, I surmise the attack was to be the basis of a piece of braggadio in the Courts. Now if the why of the attack was as I have surmised, the target of it was effectively any and all of you. With the possible exception of Prince Alistair." Father looked rather uncomfortable as he said this. "Perhaps the only reason for inviting him and Princess Nimue was to have more targets to boast of. Perhaps it was to ensure that you invited Morgan and Marcel along, Alexander. And, of course, a formal arrangement meant that the time and place of the start of the hunt was set. But perhaps the reason for involving Rebma was to get Alistair along. Either as part of some Courts rivalry involving him, or because he was an accomplice. I would not put it past his father setting everything up as a test of your reactions and efficiency, with Alistair there to observe and report on it all. What do you think of it all, Benedict?"

"Too early to draw a final conclusion" Benedict responded digging into his mutton. After he'd finished chewing, he added, "But the death of one of the ringleaders will cause us problems. I should report it."

"He deserved it," I muttered.

Benedict stood up and nodded to Father, who replied "Of course". Benedict then picked a trump out of his deck and stared at it.

"Pardon me for sounding ignorant," Marcel demanded, "But you have just mentioned that Alistair and his father might have something to do with this. Perhaps someone might explain why and how they might be involved in this? Is there something about Alistair's heritage that I ought to know?"

Benedict stopped concentrating on the Trump and looked up. "Yes" he replied.

Father went on, "Alistair's father is Duke Victor Layton, head of House Layton in the Courts. House Layton is a small house but has a strong reputation for extortion, blackmail, torture, kidnapping and murder. If you like, Alistair is the son of the Court's chief assassin."

I thought of bumbling, amiable Alistair and found this hard to believe.

Benedict Trumped away to God-knows-where and I did not miss him in the least. We finished our supper.

Marcel leaned over and puts his remaining hand on my good shoulder and said quietly enough that the others would not overhear, "Come, brother, although the creature meant us no good will, I am sure that you do not hold all creatures with Chaos blood in the same regard. Do you?" He thought me a superstitious bigot like Morgan! Marcel picked up a pitcher of milk and fills up my mug and smiled broadly at me. "Here is to your continued health, brother. Drink up!"

"C-course not," I replied, more than a little upset, "But that son-of-a-bitch tried to *murder* you, Marcel, and you were just trying to get away, no weapon in hand. I wasn't even trying to kill him, until it looked like he was going to charge you the second time. Then I had no choice. Served him right. Lunatic." I gulps down some milk and glared hard at the remains of my meal.

Marcel squeezed my shoulder and heartfully, "Alex, I am glad that I have a brother such as you. You thought about my welfare more than I did my own. I am in your debt." I felt myself going red. I was quite certain he'd have done the same for me.

Marcel grinned like a lunatic, "But let us try to forget about such things. I am an Amberite and we know that such a thing as losing a limb is not forever. Also, now I can say such things as 'Look ma, no hands!'" I groaned and took another serving of lamb.

Morgan had let Father's briefing sink in and had plenty to say, "Let me see if I comprehend now. Am I to understand that it was a fake Julian who set this up, and that from instant one it was some kind of Chaosian practical joke? Somebody's got a lot of nerve. Or perhaps thank to Alex and Marcel, *had* a lot of nerve. Father, you mentioned a Seeker? Was there just one? And what implications might this have with respect to recent doings in Finndelaine?"

"Perhaps youthful folly would be a better description than practical joke." Father replied. "But that's near enough. There was just the one seeker. The fact that they are now appearing elsewhere is of some concern to me. We shall have to watch out for them in several areas now."

Father ordered me to go home with the rangers while he led Morgan and Marcel to their homes in Shadow. Although I was dead tired, I planned to wait up for his return and ask a few more questions. My resolve was not as strong as my exhaustion though, and I fell asleep in a chair in the hall outside Father's quarters.

He woke me up and was, as I had expected, irritated with me, "I know you were worried for Marcel's safety, but you were the host of the trip. On what grounds did you abandon the guests? What would you have done if they had been injured or even killed afterwards?"

I had been somewhat prepared for this, but I was groggy and still felt tired. The hard part was to set my jaw and swallowed and met his eyes, "I left on the condition Morgan take the guests back to the lodge and left the rangers with him. He's fought with monsters before. Th-that was why I invited him on the trip, I told him he could do security. B-but he c-couldn't track Marcel or hide or flee in the forest alone. I wasn't going to let Marcel die. Even if he is k-kind of dumb sometimes." I let the rest of my breath out in a rush. What else could I have done? And it worked, more or less.

Father stood there for a moment and then replied. "You seem to have done the right thing. Well done, Alex. Now, if there's nothing you want to ask, I'm going to get some sleep." I swallowed again, "If you d-don't mind sir, why the hell did you never say anything about Marcel being a shapeshifter? H-he's scared to death I'll say something about it, and Morgan would j-just denounce him as a witch, or something... and I don't dare say about it..."

He sighed. "I didn't tell you of Marcel's abilities for the same reasons I didn't tell Marcel, or Morgan, of *your* abilities. It is for you to tell them if you wish to. *Have* you told them that you are a shapeshifter?"

"N-not when Morgan started having hysterics about being related to a sorceress at dinner three years ago. And when Marcel's around, I can't get a word in edgewise anyway. And since we got jumped by Chaos shapeshifters today, I don't really think I'm going to bring it up in front of Morgan anytime soon. There's something else going on, isn't there? You sent Morgan to talk to someone with your trump and that person didn't come back. W-will you tell me what's going on?" Father assured me that Morgan had Trumped into some sort of arrangement designed to collect messages for Benedict and to relay the most urgent ones to him at once. He looked as weary as I felt, so we both let it go at that.

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