Chapter 12: Dinner with the Family

My short-of-breath butler and I passed through a number of spectacular corridors, thronged with courtiers, before we got to Alan's residence. His door was answered by a tall, thin man in his mid-thirties, who bowed and introduced himself as Stokes, the man who'd sent the note. Having memorized the route here, I sent my butler home. Stokes brought me to a reception room where Alan was seated. There was no sign of Nimue. "Prince Alexander, Your Highness," announced Stokes. I wondered at this, because I hadn't told him my name.

"Alex, come in. Have a seat. Nimue isn't here at the moment. She's seeing to her apartments and should be back soon." Alan's tone was as cold and formal as when I'd first met him.

I wondered miserably if Nimue were angry with me and if Alan was upset on her account, but there was nothing I could do about it. I'd had a truly rotten day at that point and the adrenaline was wearing off. I slumped into a chair, looking at the floor.

I heard Alan's voice, "Stokes, get Prince Alexander something to drink, please." To me, he said "I hear that the trip from Arden didn't go according to plan. What happened?"

I looked up at him. He undoubtedly knew, but I'd already told the story three times, so why not a fourth time? "One of my brothers decided to be a complete pratt and mess Nimue around, so he met us at the beach and was very unpleasant. When he left, Nimue Trumped him and tried to go talk to him, without bringing any weapons or any of my Trumps for protection. All she took was my Trump of Morgan so I couldn't contact them. I got to Marcel, and he couldn't reach Morgan by Trump anyway... She's really all right, isn't she?"

Alan nodded. "Nimue tried to talk some sense into him, but Morgan insisted that he was never going to have anything to do with Amber, but might swear allegiance to another power. Nimue suggested that it may be possible for him to walk the Pattern in Rebma instead, but Morgan seemed to suggest that Moire was merely one of Random's vassals. Nimue's still extremely angry about that. Fortunately at this point, Moire Trumped Nimue through to Rebma. She had received warning from Julian that Nimue might be in danger. Your doing, I assume? Anyway, she escaped from your brother unharmed. But then..."

He paused. "I don't know if you've heard the bad news, but Crown Prince Martin, Nimue's nephew, has been killed. Nimue has mostly recovered from the shock, but is still not quite back to her normal self. So she is mostly all right." He was watching me even more intently than he usually does, but I was a little too worn out to respond.

He waited a couple of moments, then asked, "What exactly was the reason that you and Morgan almost came to blows, and why has Morgan suddenly developed such a hatred for all of Amber?"

I drew a deep breath. "I think... that Morgan's going crazy. His Shadow has been under attack from Chaos for years and they're losing. If he's dumb enough to join up with the Courts to protect Finndelaine... Father will kill him."

Alan looked at me sharply, but did not continue staring at me as he did before. "I agree. Finndelaine can not be permitted to fall to the Courts given its shadow paths straight into Arden. What can you tell me about this war? I had no idea that there were active hostilities between the Courts and Amber." No sympathy for Morgan there.

I told him, "Father will erase those paths, maybe already has, even if it's only to keep Morgan from wandering away before Father has time to tan his butt for his behavior to Nimue. There aren't hostilities between the Courts and Amber, Father says, but Finndelaine's independent. Really nasty, barbaric people who assume that anyone who is different is a demon or a sorceror. Living with them and keeping his true nature hidden probably hasn't helped Morgan's mental stability at all."

Alan thought about this for a bit then changed the subject. "I hear that you have a new brother. I hope that he is less headstrong than Morgan."

"Ummm, no, he's just a different flavor of headstrong." I sighed, "If you don't mind, I'll introduce you, Sabel and Josef to Josiah sometime this evening. He's planning to interrogate your father and I think he needs a clue that he had best calm down a little first. He won't listen to me and Marcel is just urging him on."

Alan tensed noticably when I said this. "What exactly is he planning to interrogate Caine about? I would strongly advise against annoying him, or in fact having anything to do with him at all."

I sighed again, "I'm not sure I'm supposed to tell you. It is however, something your father will probably be sensitive about, a defeat that happened in his past. Josiah suspects Caine of having sold out Amber a long time ago, but he's not going to say so. He thinks he can worm information about that old enemy from your father, somehow."

Alan's eyes got even wider with alarm and he tensed up even more, looking like a treed cat. "I think that you should tell me everything you know about this defeat. Also, there is no way that Josiah will worm anything out of Caine that will do anything but put him into even more danger, and Caine is the worst enemy you can possibly have."

I ignored the stab of guilt I felt about involving him in this mess. "Marcel and Josiah won't want me to tell you, but you may be able to keep Josiah from getting himself killed. Apparently, Caine was the first Amberite to make contact with the Moonriders of Ghanesh. They killed the entire patrol he led and he alone survived to tell the tale. Josiah wants information about the Moonriders and ostensibly he only wants basic military intelligence out of Caine. But, he suspects that Caine actually sold... something to the Moonriders and that the patrol died because they would have been witnesses. In this case, he'd have all kinds of inside information on the Moonriders and I think that Josiah is crazy enough to try and dig for that. I don't know how he plans to do it. If he's wrong, and Uncle Caine simply escaped the Moonriders by the skin of his teeth, Josiah will be opening old wounds and if he's right... he'll go the way of that patrol."

Alan, still visibly upset, said, "I suspect that we will all be told basic military information about the Moonriders now that they are active again. I am almost positive that Josiah won't be cunning enough to trick Caine into giving stuff away, and, as you say, will only be committing suicide, especially as Caine is supervising walking the Pattern. I'll try and convince him that this would be a very bad idea. It would help if you could tell me some more though: what do you know about this 'something' that Caine is supposed to have sold to the Moonriders? How did Josiah find out about Caine's patrol? Why does Josiah see it as his business to go prying into this matter?"

I replied, "Caine selling out to the Moonriders is pure speculation on Josiah's part. He thinks that Caine could have sold information or even his loyalty. Josiah asked Father about the history of Amber's war with the Moonriders and that's how he found out about the Caine's patrol. As for why he's interested, Josiah can tell you better than I. It's starting to look like an obsession to me. I think he'll be very excited to know what you mentioned about them being active again. I really appreciate you're talking to Josiah about this."

Alan said, "By active again I mean that they killed Martin. What else can you tell me about Josiah? All I know is that he used to be a policeman of sorts."

"Josiah has been convinced that the Moonriders are behind everything that has happened, from the Chanicut ambush, years ago, to Morgan insulting Nimue." I told him.

Alan looked disgusted. "Unlikely. I think that was just stupidity."

I nodded. "I have to agree with you there, but Josiah is convinced that the Moonriders are behind *everything* including Nimue's ill-fated visit to Morgan, the loss of Cook's teapot..." I went on, "Josiah was an undercover detective in a high-tech Shadow until Father went and collected him. He was a bit out of place there, as everyone there has some sort of technological implants and his body rejected these. Now, he wants to find out all he can about these Moonriders, which he is convinced are as major a force as Chaos."

Thoughtfully, Alan said, "He could be right about that. Benedict considers tham a significant enemy."

I added, "I was afraid that the Chaosites had killed Martin in retribution for the death of Prince Chanicut. I don't think I can be dragged into the Moonrider feud though."

"Perhaps. I'll have a word with Josiah if you introduce us. I don't know if it'll do any good though; he sounds very... focused," Alan said.

I grimaced at this. "That's one way to put it. I just think he should leave your father alone, for a large number of reasons." I looked back at Alan anxiously, "Just what has been going on here? The first I heard was when Father said that Martin was dead."

Alan told me, "I believe that the story is this: Martin was sent off into Shadow to retrieve our cousin Jashaan. They were attacked and Martin was killed, buying time for Jashaan to trump to Benedict. He passed Jashaan through to your father who brought him to Amber. I met Jashaan briefly a short while ago, and he should be coming here soon."

"Poor devils, the pair of them. I suspect I'll be able to recognize Jashaan at dinner: he'll be the one who cringes whenever Father looks in his direction." I got to my feet. "Thanks very much for your hospitality and for everything you've told me. You seem pretty busy right now, so I'll bring Josiah to see you at dinner."

"Until dinner then." Alan walked with me to the outer door and shook my hand. "Nice to see you again." This was not anything anyone had ever said to me, except Nimue, a creature as lonely as myself. I nodded and felt my face heat up as I took Alan's hand. As I stepped towards the door, Alan asked, "Something wrong, Alex?"

I shook my head, "N-no" and sighed. I left before I had to explain my own confusion.

I found and stopped by the "Filigree Apartments in the Central West Wing" to see Nimue on the way back, but her maid told me she was not in. I declined to leave a message; I'd be seeing her at dinner shortly.

I made it to Josiah's residence with half an hour to spare before dinner, and he was at home. I told Josiah without preamble, "You should be happy to hear this: the Moonriders killed Martin."

Josiah raised one eyebrow at me. "Never met the man, so I can't say what my opinion is of him getting killed. On the other hand, this is news... or is it? Is this a new development, or a bon mot you were saving for some reason?"

I felt renewed aggravation with him, but gritted my teeth and justified myself: "This has in fact come from Alan, who got it from Uncle Benedict. I thought you'd like a little hearsay to back up your speculation. Alan can also arrange for you to talk with an eyewitness, I think, before tomorrow."

Josiah remarked, "I would be very interested in meeting both Alan and your witness. Not to mention Benedict, although Julian warned me about him... I'd love to know what his source is, though. Don't knock hearsay and speculation, Alex. They aren't admissible in court, and won't even get you a warrant, but if you know how to use them they can help you find the more solid evidence."

I wondered what warning he'd received about Benedict, but declined to ask. "This is what Alan told me: Martin was sent to bring back our cousin, Jashaan, from Shadow. They were attacked by Moonriders, but Martin's death bought Jashaan time to Trump to Uncle Benedict. Uncle Benedict passed him to Father in Amber. Alan has befriended Jashaan, who is really going to need friends, from the sound of it. Given that Father probably gave him the third degree and given who we are, you should probably wait for Alan to introduce him to you. Shouldn't take long."

Josiah grinned at this, "I heard something about Jashaan. Apparently, he claims amnesia. I'd love to know what caused it...and whether it was voluntary."

"You'll have to ask him. I'm not sure I'd blame him if it was voluntary," I said. I got back to the subject of Alan. "I asked him about having you talk to his dad, Uncle Caine, about a possibly sensitive matter, and he recommended that you not upset Uncle Caine this evening or tomorrow, because Uncle Caine's supervising us while we walk the Pattern. A few may not make it and will die if he doesn't do his job properly, so you can understand that he's very stressed right now." I hoped desperately that Josiah would understand what I was trying to tell him.

Josiah scowled. "Caine? That sounds a bit like appointing the wolf to be the sheepdog. The question, of course, is how did he get the job...did he angle for it, or was he actually picked for it? Either way, it could be somebody's way of making sure we start the habit of trusting Caine..."

"I doubt that matters right now," I told him, "But we will all have to be on good terms with him until the whole business is done with. Again, Alan knows a lot more about this stuff, than I or possibly any of the rest of us do. I prefer simply not to draw attention to myself. And you will have plenty to do in the meantime. It might not hurt to keep Marcel far away from him as well. I'm sure there will be plenty of time to 'chat' once the Patternwalk is taken care of."

"Centuries, from what Papa Julian told me," Josiah said cheerfully. "Of course, keeping Marcel away from where Marcel wants to be may require trickier timing. Are we going to outflank him or just drag him off bodily?"

I was faintly surprised that he realized what a social disaster Marcel is. "I suggested sitting on him and Father didn't say not to. The most dangerous people among the Elders can't call him out or Father will be angry with them. But they could be really ugly in an underhanded way. Staying away from them seems like a really good idea. Anyway, you'll get a chance to talk to Alan at dinner. He's a nice guy and knows a lot about what's gone on here recently."

"Looking forward to it. Thanks." Josiah then remarked that it was time for dinner, so we grabbed one of his valets and started down towards the Pearl Rooms.

We all arrived about the same time. I hadn't been warned what a large group it would be, more than twenty people, all sitting down to the same table. And I had to meet all of them at the same time and hed no idea if I'd like any of them... Based on my brothers, it could be pretty bad...

I stepped and found myself pushed forward into the dining room by the others. I had only a faint impression of my surroundings, almost a garish imitation of Moire's palace in Rebma, all pale purple and green. I looked around for any familiar faces and almost ran right into Marcel and the lady on his arm, a pretty, blond woman in a plain green dress, whom I recognized from a painting in Father's study: Carmel, Father's wife, who'd left him before I'd been born. Marcel had invited her to supper to torment Father. I staggered back in shock.

I looked down at the place markers on the table, not to learn where I was to sit, but to take my mind off the swarm of people chattering around me. I realized that if I just memorized the names and watched who sat where, I'd not have to try and introduce myself before I knew who each one was. The elders I could just recognize from my memory of Father's Trumps, but there were so many new cousins...

                 Random
     Elena                    Nimue
     Julian                   Esteban
     Jashaan                  Flora
     Sabel                    Geraint
     Benedict                 Llewella
     Alan                     Bodey
     Gerard                   Josef
     Josiah                   Corwin
     Caine                    Brendan
     Marcel                   Alexander
                 Vialle

I realized, to my dismay, that I was at the far end of the table from Father and Nimue and even well away from the other cousins I did know: Alan, Josef and Sabel. I was the only one around to try and make Marcel and Josiah behave tactfully towards conveniently-positioned Uncle Caine... What about Aunt Fiona? Her brother, Bleys, wasn't here either. But Father was; I could see him talking to the King, who looks vastly older than he did when his Trump was painted. Uncle Benedict wore a black armband; I recalled that Martin had been his fosterling, though he'd been happy enough to return to Amber once the King decided to remember he existed. Llewella and the queen, Vialle, wore flowing white robes and silver veils: traditional Rebman mourning garb.

Josiah was scurrying around behind me, greeting everyone enthusiastically and shaking hands. "Something to be said for meeting new people...especially when they are new family," I heard him say. I couldn't agree with him less, but I could hardly breathe, let alone speak.

Finally, I caught sight of Nimue, with Alan and a big, solemn black man with a shaved head, who, I realized when he sat, was our cousin Jashaan. Right next to Father. I wished for all the world that I could trade places with him. I suspected that after being grilled by Father about Martin's death, he'd have been more than happy to make that trade.

Nimue also wore a mourning robe. She smiled at me and at Josef, but seemed very subdued, and, I realized, her eyes were reddened. She did have a dagger on her, I was relieved to see, even in a place where she shouldn't need one. I also noticed that she had a large, worn golden signet ring on her right hand. Was it King Eric's? She also managed smiles at the King and at Father. I almost called to her, but the room felt so crowded.... I promised myself I'd seek her out after dinner. She smiled at me as I sat back down, then turned to Jashaan.

My eye was caught by a bright orange tattoo on Jashaan's head behind his left ear. It was made up of several characters (PF91KL) and a pattern of stripes I had seen somewhere before. I'd been shown stripes like those on a label, that could be read by a machine as a number, called a bar code. Why would anyone write information on himself where he couldn't see it? I realized, feeling sicker than ever, that Jashaan was not meant to see that tattoo, had not chosen to put it there. It was an identifying label, a brand, like the numbers we tattoo inside the ears of Father's horses and dogs so that they cannot be stolen. Jashaan had been a slave.

Alan also wore a black armband and a highly ornate blue-hilted sword and dagger, which, I was sure, were perfectly functional weapons. Alan quickly scanned the room, smiling briefly at his brother and sister. He nodded to me, then glanced at Josiah and looked back at me. He raised an eyebrow and I nodded. Josiah, seeing this exchange, raised an eyebrow himself, and his drink glass, at Alan.

A small blond person came up and introduced herself to me as Elena. She was dressed in a brown tunic and trousers, with gold jewelry, including a bird-shaped pin. Knowing I could not get anything coherent out, I simply nodded to her, and she moved on to speak with Josef. She had been staying near Corwin when she entered, so I assumed her to be his child or fosterling.

Josef, I was amused to see, was dressed as foppishly as Marcel, but there was a dab of paint on his sleeve and he'd forgotten to comb his hair. He smirked obnoxiously at everyone around him, and seemed to be teasing Elena unkindly.

I got a look at the other cousins before I sat. Geraint, who looked lost and a bit nervous, was talking to our Aunt Llewella, his odd accent carrying across the room. He's a short, stocky man with a round face and curly brown hair. His clothes were as odd as Josiah's "suit and tie": a tan shirt and trousers, with a green high-collared vest and scaly green boots and belt with matching gloves tucked into it, reminding me a bit of Father's scaled white armor, and a spiral pin of copper and jade.

A slender brown-haired man, tanned like Elena, wearing blue and black, introduced himself to Nimue: "I'm Esteban, son of Corwin..." He too had strange jewelry, a silvery moebius-triangle pendant. He wore a scimitar that looked as if it were made of stone, with golden and silver runes engraved on the exposed side of the blade.

As Esteban kissed Nimue's hand, Marcel looked sharply over at him and frowned, his cheeks reddening. When she looked over at him, he nodded at her then turned to scowl at the servants scuttling to set a place for his mother, next to the queen. I did not look forward to eating with Carmel. Nimue smiled and nodded at Carmel, and she smiled nervously back. Nimue looked over thoughtfully at Father. He smiled back slightly and nodded, but neither of them said anything.

Marcel said to Caine, who'd finally taken his place, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Uncle Caine. I have heard many stories about you from Julian and now I finally have the chance to meet you in person."

Caine smiled and said "Hello."

Marcel turned to Vialle, "And it is most certainly a pleasure to meet you, my Queen. May I introduce you to my mother, Carmel?" The queen was blind, I recalled.

"Hello" she replied and held out her hand to Marcel. She added, "Carmel and I have met on many occasions before now." She greeted Carmel and the two of them started chatting quietly.

I looked up as another cousin entered, a big, solid fellow with brown hair, in a white linen shirt and brown trousers. He looked around the Pearl Rooms, awed. He beamed at all of us and a servant helped him to his seat. He nodded at Gerard, who smiled and nodded back, then sat and downed his wine in one gulp. I hoped that this was not what passed for manners in the City. A herald called, "My Lords and Ladies, Brendan Geraldson."

Elena said something to him as the last cousin came in, a lithe, handsome fellow with a wide smile and curly dark-blond hair, looking curiously about him. He wore the oddest clothing I had seen yet, an orange shirt and bright-green pants, garish and tight-fitting. His smile became a leer when he saw Carmel, and all the liking I could have felt for him evaporated. He paused, stared into space briefly and finally shrugged. He noticed all of us again and waved, grinning. "Hello all. Hope I am not too late...". He took the last empty chair, the one reserved for "Bodey".

Aunt Flora came sweeping up to us in a purple gown that actually matched the room. She embraced Carmel and kissed her on the cheek. "Carmel!" she exclaimed, "It is a delight to see you. Why, the last I heard, you were exiled into a dreary Shadow and forced to manual labour for your living." She looked archly at Father, who looked back impassively. I felt even more irritated with Flora than with Marcel and wished that she would go back to her seat. And several of the cousins seemed downright boorish so far... A fine start to dinner.

"I am in Brynn through choice," Carmel said softly to Flora, "and sometimes help on _my_ vinyard because I enjoy doing so. And Brynn is a lovely place, as I'm sure Marcel will agree." At least I had to give Father credit for good taste...

Before Flora could say anything more, the king cut in: "You are very welcome, Carmel. Now if you all wouldn't mind taking your places, Gerard can give the grace and we can all sit down." The babble died down and people moved back to their seats.

Behind the king, I got a look through a huge picture window looking onto a big lake with fountains and waterfalls, a sight which almost distracted me from the mass of people around me.

Uncle Gerard cleared his throat and intoned gravely, "May the unicorn bless us and our endeavours and keep us united." I heard Uncle Benedict and Father say "Amen" firmly and others muttering. Then we all sat down.

Further up the table, Alan greeted the elders in his usual formal manner, then said to coldly to Bodey: "Pleased to meet you sir. I'm Alan." He held out his hand towards him.

Bodey shook hands and patted Alan's shoulder, grinning. "Nice to see you, Alan. I'm Bodey. Guess you're family..." An odd, rude response, but he hadn't been normal from the start...

Uncle Benedict actually greeted Marcel and myself, though somewhat grimly. Marcel told him gleefully: "I have something for you. I shall give it to you after dinner." Benedict nodded. Uncle Gerard and Aunt Llewella smiled and said "Hello" to everybody. I just nodded back, unable to speak.

Josiah lost no time meeting Caine, warnings or no warnings. "Uncle Caine, glad to finally meet you. I've got an outstanding case that you might be interested in."

"Connected to current events?" Caine asked.

"Tempting to think it is," grinned Josiah. "Very tempting."

Much to my relief, Alan spoke up. "Josiah, Alex has told me a little about your interesting theories, and I might have some information and advice for you. I suggest, however, that we let the subject drop for the moment, since it is not really fit for the dinner table."

"Don't worry, " Josiah said calmly, "Just making conversation...and laying the grounds for a later one." I actually dared hope that he really meant it and would not ruin dinner or his own prospects by trying to interrogate Caine here. Josiah grinned at me, then turned back to Caine. "I assume after-dinner drinks are part of the custom? Best time to chew it over, I think...this is just the time for appetizers."

Caine smiled and nodded back, but Uncle Corwin frowned and Uncle Gerard "hmm"'ed quietly. They didn't seem to think this was a good idea and they ought to know...

The King stood once more and announced: "We seem to have something of a problem. Fiona and her children, Sebastian and Alexis, have all disappeared. There was no warning and no witnesses, so we think they must have left by Trump. The disappearance probably happened around lunchtime, and the only real clue as it were is some evidence of a struggle in Sebastian's private chamber, as well as a fair quantity of blood. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough noise to alert his staff. Fiona is not responding to Trump calls."

None of the Elders seemed perturbed, as the King had probably warned them as soon as he found out, but the rest seemed as shocked as I was. Carmel gasped and raised a hand to her mouth. Marcel takes her other hand and pats it reassuringly. Aunt Fiona, I recalled in a daze, had done us some kindness in the past, drawing Trumps for us. It would have been nice to have her here among all these strange faces. And now something terrible had happened to her...

Sternly, the King told us: "Now, our first priority is your, and our own, safety. I want you all to be very careful tonight and make sure your rooms are secure. You may want to post guards very close by and we'll make some available to anyone who requests it. I also want you to get plenty of rest and stay in the castle. We're going to go ahead with the Pattern-walking and you must all be fully rested for tommorrow. Otherwise, investigations are proceeding. If anyone has any suggestions, ideas, suspicions or information then I'd like to hear them."

It occurred to me to ask if Father had tried to use dogs to obtain the scent of the attacker, but I realized that he would have though of it already.

"What's your forensics?" Josiah asked immediately. "You set up to tell if the blood belonged to Sebastian? If you had more than one bleeder?"

"You'll find that things don't quite work here the way they do in Chicago, Josiah," Caine told him, grinning even though his kin were missing, perhaps hurt. "Here in Amber, blood tends to fall into only three categories; Amber, Chaos and the Rest."

The King nodded. Uncle Benedict added, "From siting, I estimate the attacker was wounded lightly and the defender, probably Sebastian, bled from a severe wound, probably in his chest."

Josiah speculated: "So one possible scenario is that someone scurried a wounded Sebastian to a safe house, and doesn't want to let anything slip while Sebastian's still a sitting target. So then why is the attacker missing? Did they take him to question, did his people take him so he couldn't be?"

"Why do you assume the attacker was male?" Caine asked.

Josiah grinned and nodded to Caine. "I don't...but 'he or she' and 's/he' are damn clunky. I knew a she back in Chicago who could have done it, but we can discuss her over drinks..."

"I'm looking forward to it." Caine almost whispered, just loudly enough for everyone around the table to hear, suddenly incredibly menacing. Then he sat back, grinning broadly, as if he'd just made a joke. But Alan became quite pale...

I stared back at him and bared my teeth involuntarily, waiting for him to make a move, but he just sat back and grinned cheerfuly at me as if nothing had happened. I looked over at Josiah. He was grinning back at Caine more gleefully than ever, and I felt sick as I realized just how how much gall and how little sense he had.

Brendan leaned forward and looked between us. "Gentlemen, perhaps we might resume this conversation elsewhere; I would prefer not to trouble the Queen," he nodded towards Vialle, who was unable to even see any of the subtle threats wandering around her end of the table. He folded his steel dagger around his finger. I was disgusted; it was a parlor trick any of us were strong enough to perform. "With your leave, of course," he smiled, dropping the curliqued knife on the table, "I would be happy to mediate." He folded his hands together and looked at us.

I looked at him puzzled as to just what he wanted, but then let my fury at being bullied and my disgust at his stupidity take over. "I have spoken to no-one this evening, and I fail to see how anything I said to her could have upset the queen. Leave me alone!" Civil enough, more so than he deserved. I glared at him, waiting for him to give in and either go back to his meal or to go bother the people on the other side of him. He'd have a hell of a time pointing to any of Caine's or Josiah's actual words as upsetting either.

Instead a grin spread across his face. "Now, now, Alexander, peace! The cause and the effect are not always so closely aligned. I am sure that our Queen in her grace will not admit to taking offence, nor will I. Let us eat, and forget this! Should you and our uncle care to continue your discussion later, I'm sure you would find yourself more free to express yourself, perhaps even as clearly as you did just now." With this, he nodded at us, and waved to a passing servant for another portion.

"Perhaps it _would_ be best to let it lie, Alex." Nimue said pleasantly, smiling at us, then returning to her conversation with Elena, though she'd been glaring at Brendan for most of the display.

It didn't help. I couldn't eat a damned thing, or do anything except wish that dinner would be over.

Marcel seemed to realize the source of most of the trouble. He turned to Josiah at this point and scowled at him. "Your dinner manners could use some polishing, Josiah. Just drop the subject for now and take it up with Uncle Caine when the two of you are away from the table," he hissed. He said softly to Vialle, "Forgive my brother Josiah, Your Majesty, he is not used to dining in such formal surroundings." I was quite surprised to hear such good sense coming from Marcel.

"...and I'm sure Josiah is far too wise to try to offend people whose abilities and character are beyond his ken at present," said the queen, as pleasantly as if she were discussing the weather.

Josiah held up a placating hand. "I promise, no shop talk during dinner. But this isn't dinner yet, and I'm just talking about the current case."

He asked the King, "Where was Sebastian last seen? Alexis? Fiona?"

"Alexis and Fiona returned from Tir-na Nog'th around dawn and both returned to their residences," the King answered. "Sebastian was last seen by his staff this morning when they took him breakfast."

"Hang on... Tir is some sort of prediction system, right? Warns of significant events? If it wouldn't peep about the attempted murder of immediate family, you might want to consider Tarot cards more reliable. Any way to get Tir to _replay_ omens?" asked Josiah.

Corwin snorted. "It isn't some giant VCR in the sky, Josiah. The visions that appear cannot be controlled and tend to be directly related to you and those close to you." I wondered what a VCR was, but decided I didn't want to know.

"Like I said...I'd expect even a halfway-reliable system to squawk if a son or brother was about to be violently attacked in less than a day's time. Of course, I'd also expect that Tir would make investigations pretty easy..just get the detective in charge to take a stroll and see if any case-related omens come his way." Josiah grinned at us.

Marcel snickered and remarked, "It's a shame that Morgan had to miss this."

"His own damned fault," I growled, looking down at the table and thinking that 'missing this' would not be such a bad thing after all.

"The visions are generally not to be relied upon," Father comment, "and neither is the Tarot."

"That depends on how you use it," said Caine, grinning. I remembered Father once mentioning that Uncle Caine could spy through Trumps...

Elena frowned. "While it might be nice to see some visions a second time, and perhaps gain more information, others are certainly nothing I would care to ever see again."

"Where is Morgan?" Flora asked.

"In his home shadow at present," Father replied smoothly.

"Is it possible for any of us to take a look at Alexis's or Sebastian's rooms?" Elena asked the King.

"There's little to see now," he replied, "but yes."

"What might you be looking for?" Llewella asked.

"Something added you don't expect, or something missing that you would..." muttered Josiah.

I looked away from him, shuddering. Marcel smiled politely at me and motioned for me to talk to Carmel. This was something I did not want to do, but I would have to at some point and it was rude for me to ignore her when she sat just across the table. She actually smiled at me, looking as nervous as I felt (and her situation was at least as awkward as mine).

So I swallowed hard and began, "I'm... pleased to meet you. D-did you just get to Amber?"

"I did," she replied gallantly. "Marcel trumped me through and, er," she patted Marcel gently on his arm, "insisted I come to dinner. I will stay with him for a few days and then perhaps with my parents."

Marcel suggested: "Perhaps you and Josiah can join Mother and I for lunch tomorrow? From what I hear, there are some excellent restaurants in the city."

I nodded, then remembered, "but don't we walk the Pattern tomorrow?"

"I suspect the walk isn't going to take up a whole day," Josiah chuckled. "Ought to be time to check out a local restaurant. Mind you, I'm not sure my debit card would work here, even if I _had_ it...!"

"The walk should be fairly quick," the King said flatly from the other end, "but you'll take a few days to recover. So you'll have to wait before going out anywhere."

Marcel said, "I am not exactly sure what a 'debit card' is, but if it has to do with your world, I doubt very much that it would work in Amber. Besides, lunch will be my treat. It will be a chance for all of us to get to know each other better."

"Thanks, bro'!" grinned Josiah.

The king asked "What's the latest position in Arden, Julian?"

Father looked up from his plate. "The diversionary force was met and halted. They claim to have become lost on manoeuvres and will be escorted back into Shadow Farrell tommorrow." This was a relief to hear. He went on, "Thanks to Marcel, we were ready for the main insurgent team. All members of this were apprehended just after making landfall, in a manner that should strike them as an unlucky fluke. They're being taken to my castle for interrogation."

Nimue smiled at him, looking relieved herself, and nodded slightly. So she had known too. Marcel looked up, apparently startled, but began to grin widely. He winked at Nimue. She gave him a reproving look, but gave in and smiled back at him. Subtle spies those two were.

Josiah looked at Father, rather disgruntled, perhaps upset that everything was taken care of without his having a chance to screw around with it. "Well, I guess that's congratulations to you and Marcel."

Father just smiled. "Thank you."

Marcel, grinning, murmered "Why, thank you, Josiah. By the way, I shall make sure to have the servants wrap some of that up for you to take home."

Josiah looked at his hands. As he often did, he'd just been stroking his napkin, as if they didn't have fine cloth where he came from (and they probably don't, based on the dreadful stuff I've seen him wearing). Corwin coughed to control a laugh. Father stopped smiling, embarrassed for Josiah. Caine smiled happily between Marcel and Josiah, looking as much an idiot as they are, though I suspected it was an act in his case.

Josiah grinned back at Marcel. "What, planning to be rid of me so soon? Besides, I thought you were planning to come my way for a spell... or a sword, whichever."

Alan turned to Father. "Excuse me, but who has invaded?"

"Nobody," Father explained. "Two small groups of infiltrators were sent in to Arden. One to be a diversion. The other probably to investigate and map the Garnath defences."

"Who do you suspect of being ultimately behind this?" Alan asked.

Marcel replied without looking directly at Alan, "A group of spies from Shadow Farrell. They were unfortunately unable to get by Arden's defenses."

Josef looked up sharply at Marcel: "Unfortunately?" He cocked his head slightly.

"Unfortunately. Yes, I did say 'unfortunately'. I suppose it might have been more sporting if they had made it a little further into Arden, but then Julian might have missed dinner." Marcel added, "Unfortunate for them, but I suppose not all that unfortunate for us." I frowned. His tone was ironic, as if he weren't entirely pleased to have Father at dinner. I wondered how Carmel felt about all this, but she was talking to the queen again.

Nimue raises one eyebrow and asked, lightly: "So, you mean _fortunately_, Marcel?

Marcel grinned some more, "Well, it might be considered 'fortunate' for all concerned that there was not an imbroglio in Arden right before dinner. Who knows, Alex, Josiah and myself might be enjoying battle rations with Julian right now instead of this sumptuous meal." Marcel raised his glass to Father in a mock toast.

Alan fixed his gaze on Marcel and said, "It sounds as if you are being too modest, Marcel. Please, do tell us about your involvement."

Marcel took a sip of wine and patted his lips with his napkin. "I am not sure that that sort of conversation is suitable for the dinner table. However, since the topics of murder and treason have been already mentioned, I suppose that it cannot hurt. As for my involvement, there is not much to tell. I was able to acquire some information about a team of agents from Shadow Farrell that might be attempting an invasion of Arden. Since it concerned Julian and Uncle Benedict, I thought that it might be wise to bring it too their attention. Simple enough." With that, he went back to his wine and his supper.

Corwin said to Geraint, "I believe you were going to tell us about your visions in Tir-na nog'th. Is now a good time?"

"Fine with me -- and it would give Josiah an example of how the sky city differs from an air raid siren." He looked around nervously. "But there seems to be some question about suitable topics for a dinner conversation. Would a vision of possible disaster be out of place?"

"Disappearances and invasions haven't been so far," observes Josiah. "You can tell me what an air raid siren is after drinks."

"Go ahead." Random nodded, "I understand you felt everybody should be informed of your vision."

"I believe all of us who went up to Tir might have something to say," Elena cut in. "And I, for one, feel that now, with all present, is likely the best time for us to speak."

(to be continued)

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