Chapter 13: More Dinner with the Family

Geraint began his story, looking around the table. "The important vision was one of a possible future. As will become clear, this is not a future I want to see happen; I was drawn away from the others in Tir-na Nog'th shortly after you left us, Lord Corwin, by the image of a horse which seemed made of moonlight, ghostly even for that place. It brought me to a reflection of the throne room before it faded.

"The room was filled with enemies, mailed bowmen with silver arrows ready to fire. They had herded most of those still alive into one corner of the room. The only one I could recognize among them was our queen, Vialle, who was holding what appeared to be an infant to her chest as she wept."

The queen gasped. Nimue looked over immediately, concerned. She turned to the King, and murmured something to him, occasionally glaring at Geraint as he continued.

"Somewhat closer to the throne, and therefore clearer, was a pile of bodies, perhaps a dozen in all. Among those before the throne I recognized my parents ... and you, Lord Random, ... and you, Uncle Benedict."

The queen choked back a sob.

Geraint looked over at her before going on. "On the dais next to the throne was the leader of the men, his blade still dripping blood. He was speaking to the living when I appeared at the door. He challenged me by name, though I'll swear I'd never seen him before; apparently, he was surprised to see me in that place. I said nothing useful to him, he ordered his archers to destroy me, and the vision left me in a hail of silver arrows... I have no idea who the leader of the enemy forces might be. I'd never seen him before." He took a folded piece of paper from a pocket inside his vest. "I thought someone of broader experience than I might know the man, so I prepared this sketch." He unfolded the paper and passed it to Flora. Eventually, it got passed around the table, a sketch of a man in armor from about the waist up, with long blond hair swept back from his forehead, blue eyes, and a fierce expression. His shield had a pale white horse on it.

Everyone was actually quiet for a moment. I waited as long as I could, but no-one else said anything. Finally I looked up at Father and asked, "I h-hate to be the one to say this, but d-doesn't a ghostly white horse sound like a Moonrider emblem?" Father didn't look back. I swallowed and looked back down.

Josiah whistled, grinned and winked at Marcel for no obvious reason.

Josef looked back and forth between me and Father and demanded: "A what?"

Marcel answered for me: "A Moonrider of Ghenesh. An ancient enemy of Amber that was defeated by an army led by Benedict. I believe they surprised your squadron, Uncle Caine?" He smirked, as if he'd said something clever.

"Do you?" Caine replied at once.

"Well, that is what I had been told. However, I am sure that there is more to the story than what I was told. Perhaps after dinner, you would care to regale Josiah and I of your exploits during that battle. I think that might be rather interesting. What do you think, Josiah?" Dammit, after he'd managed to shut Josiah up earlier, here he was, starting trouble all over again.

Josiah smirked back at Marcel, then at Caine. "I think Marcel is angling to be part of our chat over drinks...." At least he had mastered the obvious, though not completely... As long as they planned to keep it to after dinner.

"Corwin is your man for regaling, not I" Caine grinned across the table at Uncle Corwin, who glared at him. "If we're lucky he might even sing us some of his old songs about his exploits."

Uncle Corwin replied: "My songs tended to favour the common soldier rather than the general and usually ended with the death of comrades and family."

Josiah joked, "Too realistic. You'll never break into the top 40 that way." Whatever the "top 40" were...

Uncle Corwin looked back at Geraint. "The man in your vision is called Blessen of Clan Eagle," he said calmly, "and he is indeed a Moonrider who once inhabited Ghenesh. He has arrogantly taken the flag of all the Moonriders as his own personal symbol. He hopes to rule them all one day, rather than just leading a warlike, breakaway faction. The attack you saw, Geraint, from what I hear, sounds just like him. Fast, audacious, deadly and effective. He's supposed to be a formidable opponent." I wondered how Caine had known to prod him, but realized I'd probably never dare ask.

"I think that at some point, someone should brief us all about these Moonriders, their tactics, their allies, their powers and their history," Alan announced, looking between Uncle Corwin, the King and Uncle Benedict.

"I was just thinking the same thing," Geraint agreed, staring at Uncle Corwin.

Marcel decided to make his move. "I believe that you have forgotten someone very important, Geraint." He looked innocently over at Caine, "I believe that Uncle Caine might have some knowledge that would also prove useful. Do you not agree, Josiah?" The damned fool just wouldn't give up!

Josiah smiled, watching Caine. "Basic cop rules...you're investigating, check the last known persons to have significant dealings with the subject, friend or foe. Marcel tells me you had quite a scrap with the Moonriders... the lady I'm chasing may be one or two generations down from that bunch. One item of particular interest is that this perp knows a lot about sniping, demolitions and miscellaneous assassinations. I don't know whether or not that's normal Moonrider tactics, but if it is then some other things... like Fiona and her kids dropping out of sight... fall into an interesting context. So, of course, does a vision of an ambush and assassination."

Josef raised a finger to his temple, and glanced pointedly at Alan. "I apologise, brother. It would appear that your description was quite accurate." I tensed, wondering what he was up to.

Alan smiled back at Josef. "That's quite alright, Josef. It is hard to believe. I was concerned that I may have judged too hastily, but this evening's display has cleared away my last doubts." I started to get irritated. Why the hell did these two need to pick a fight with Marcel now, when they'd just met him?

Marcel, eager to make things worse, demanded: "And what description might that be, Josef. Is it the one describing me as rude...selfish...arrogant...snide...obnoxious, or a combination of those traits? Come now, I really do not mind having others talk about me behind my back, I have lived with it for my entire life. Besides, why should I mind now?"

Alan replied calmly, "No, Marcel, those are opinions of you that I could not possibly have formed until I'd actually met you. The description that Josef is referring to is based upon Alex' account of your 'adventures' in Arden. I concluded from this episode that you are a dangerous idiot and that it would be prudent to stay well away from you to avoid being hurt in the crossfire when you finally managed to destroy yourself. It looks like we will not have to wait very long for this, since it seems that you and your brother," Alan looked briefly at Josiah, "have decided that tonight would be a pleasant evening for committing suicide."

Nimue looked on miserably. The rest simply watched.

Alan looked over at me. "Alex, I am sorry that I have failed you, but if your brothers carry on like this, then I'm afraid that they are beyond saving. You have my condolences." I gritted my teeth, unable to reply. His warning was just a little late...

"A dangerous idiot? Merely due to some bad luck and overzealousness? I would suppose then that you have never made a mistake in your young life then, Alan? Do not worry, there is still quite a bit of time for that." Marcel sneered.

"I've already made plenty" Alan told him.

Marcel snapped: "Well then, it would seem that perhaps I am not as flawed as you might think, nor are you as perfect."

"I have rarely claimed to be perfect. I know that I am very far from being so," Alan retorted.

"That is quite correct." Caine chimed in. "For example, I consider your description of Marcel as a 'dangerous idiot' as no more than half right." He looked like he was enjoying this enormously.

Marcel looked sideways at him. "Hmmm...I am not sure whether to take your words in my defense or not, Uncle. It would depend greatly on which part of the description you consider to be half right." to Alan, "As for 'committing suicide', I would suppose that you are suggesting that my life is in danger from the things that I have said to Uncle Caine? If that is the case, then I suppose that I should apologize." Marcel turned back to Caine and said, "Forgive my rude behaviour, Uncle Caine. I have forgotten my manners and my upbringing. One should respect one's elders, not annoy them." Turning back to Alan he said, "I hope that has put your mind at ease, Alan."

Alan gave him the slightest of nods.

Marcel turned on me next. "As for the description of a 'dangerous idiot', I would suppose that I have you to thank for that, Alex. Thank you very much. I shall remember that." He gulped the rest of his wine and then refilled it, looking sullen.

I refused to stand for that, even in public. I forced the words out as best I could: "A-as Alan pointed out, he drew his own c-conclusions from the events I described to him. Since he's been raised a w-warrior, he-he d-doesn't expect his kin to behave like... civilians when attacked." I looked back at the impassive faces of my kindred and took a deep breath before going on, trying, and failing to bring my voice back under control. "A-admittedly the truth about what happened during Chanicut's ambush isn't flattering to either of us, b-but it's b-better than the lies _they've_ spread about us. I t-told Josef and Alan about it and hoped that they were real gossips so that there would be something, anything, out there to counteract the lies, a-and the truth seemed to me m-more durable than anything I could d-dream up. S-since we survived, we can improve our reputations later. I-I just didn't think it would be that easy to live down rumors of treachery and m-murder." As much as I hated to say such things about Alan and Josef, they hadn't been a great deal of help this evening.

"Well said," Gerard said softly, though I don't know why.

Alan tried to repair the situation somewhat. "In fact, Marcel, while recounting his story Alex 'glossed over' certain events and to some extent warped the truth, in a loyal attempt to portray you in a better light. And I can assure you that all the conclusions are purely my own. You have no reason to blame your brother."

"You wouldn't be the first guys to fudge a field report that way, don't sweat it. You sound like a rookie," sneered Josiah, more worthless than usual.

"Well, I suppose then that I should be thanking you for saving my reputation then, Alex. However, it would appear that the character assassination started by House Chanicut is continuing from amongst family members." Marcel tried to make matters light again, "Gossip. A title fit for an old woman yet given to a warrior. I suppose that being a 'dangerous idiot' might be better than being called a gossip. Do you agree, Alan?"

"No, not really." Alan said calmly, watching Marcel.

Josiah looked back at Corwin. "The Moonriders have factions?" he asked. "What are the main Moonriders up to? And what do they think of this faction?"

"_Everybody_ has factions, Josiah" said Flora, sighing. "Currently, you and young Marcel appear to be making up the Irritate-Caine-Until-He- Kills-You faction." I felt a chill at that point. That Flora would say such a thing in front of the family, and that Caine would just sit there, smiling... She had to be serious...

Marcel made a face, before returning to his meal and his glass of wine.

"Moi?" asked Josiah, with an expression of mock dismay. "I simply asked him about the possibility of discussing a case of mine during after-dinner drinks. Then everyone else began jumping in...and one set of mysterious disappearances and one ominous vision later, I'd say there's more irritating things than me and Marcel about."

"Just not necessarily here at dinner" replied Flora.

Caine tasted his wine studiously. "An excellent choice, my dear," he told Flora, "the bouquet is superb."

She smiled sweetly back at him.

"I like it too," said Josiah. "A nice during-dinner drink." To Caine, he remarked: "Back where I came from, this barely qualified as locker room chatter. If anything I said actually got translated as an attack, then I apologize and I'll revise my opinion of the thickness of Amberite skins."

Caine smiled broadly and spread his arms expansively towards Marcel and Josiah, looking back and forth between them. "Nephews! Do not be concerned. It takes more than a few words to offend or annoy me, although I accept both your apologies. And because I do not consider either of you to be dangerous," he turned to Josiah, "if only because of your present ignorance of us, Josiah," he sat back again, "I am perfectly happy to answer your questions at a later date. Unlike some present", he added, stares into depths of his glass of wine, "I am not prone to temper tantrums and emotional outbursts." I didn't even stop to wonder which of his siblings he was attempting to provoke with this remark. If they weren't dangerous, then he must still think them idiots, and I had to agree with him on that. At least they seemed to be amusing them, which might remove any incentive he had to kill them...

"I'll be perfectly happy to take you up on that," replied Josiah, grinning unrepentantly. "You've got me very interested in learning more about the family." To the others, he explained "I'm not trying to upset anyone, I just go ahead and do it. That's how I find out their abilities and character. But this was just shop talk with Uncle Caine...although Gerry here implies it may be more relevant."

Uncle Gerard looked up. "What?"

Josiah shook his head. "I meant Geraint. Sorry, Uncle."

"Oh, no problem then" replied Uncle Gerard with a forgiving wave of his arm.

The King looked down the table cheerfully and announced "Well now we know what you saw we can make sure it never happens. That should be pretty easy, shouldn't it, Benedict?"

Uncle Benedict looked up from his food and stared directly at the King for a couple of seconds. Then he looked back down at his food and continued to eat methodically. I guessed that meant, "No." Random's confident smile weakened, and he reached for his glass.

Aunt Llewella assured him, "Of course, a number of visions, maybe most, seem to merely be creations of our own subconscious fears and desires rather than predictive events. Perhaps this vision weaved true elements with terrors from Geraint's unconscious, such as a terror of the death of his parents and family."

"Or an inherited wish to see the King of Amber dead" added Father grimly. I cursed inwardly, wishing he'd warned us about whatever history Geraint had dragged back into Amber.

Geraint glared at Father, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by the King's next remark. The King told Father, "I think there's no need to make comments like that."

Geraint looked guiltily back at the queen, who was looking very shaky. It wasn't his fault, I thought, if she were unable to handle hard news that wasn't even real. Geraint remarked: "The vision obviously incorporated elements of reality that I was not previously aware of. It is entirely possible that other parts of it reflect only the mind of the beholder. In any case, the vision can hardly be an _exact_ portrayal of the future, once some of the people whose images were in it have heard the story."

"Where I come from," Josiah commented, "they teach that the trick to any security system is to make sure it offers enough hassle so that anyone who looks at you and asks whether breaking in is worth it is going to get the answer 'no.' Of course, you get a nut, or a number of nuts, with guns, and they may figure they've nothing to lose..." Helpful as ever...

Elena glanced around the table, then said tothe King, "Uncle, I saw a vision as well, and while mine was much quieter, it was no less disturbing. I saw a child in Tir-na Nog'th, being cared for in a private courtyard. The guards were concerned that I had managed to gain entrance, and were surprised to see me looking so young. I asked who the child was, and how old they expected me to be...

"They told me I arrived in Amber 50 years past, back when Random _was_ king." She paused briefly. "And that the child was the crown princess Magda, daughter to the queen."

"The Queen?" asked Flora, looking surprised.

Elena nodded. "Yes. The nursemaid said exactly that."

Flora sat back and smiled. "Well, well, well" she says softly, "then we had better start trying to find dear Fiona." If Magda wasn't even born yet, I wondered how they knew she would be Fiona's, or if she would...

The queen had gone quite pale.Carmel whispered to Marcel, "I'm going to take Vialle out of here, she doesn't seem at all well. Don't mind me, just stay here, and let me know later what was said."

Marcel looked worriedly at them and said, "I am sorry the evening did not go better for you, Your Majesty. I hope that you feel better. Do take care, Mother. I shall inform you of anything important that was said."

Before they could get up to go, the King had more announcements. "Without Fiona to help us tommorrow, we're going to be quite stretched and most of the burden will fall on Caine. So those of you who want to interrogate him afterwards, go gently please, and don't detain him too long." Caine smiled happily left and right at Josiah and Marcel. I resolved to miss after-dinner drinks; there was no longer anything I could do.

"We're going to set up a staging post in the trophy room," the King continued, "and Trump you down to outside the Pattern chamber from there. There's a strict order set up for the walk, so make sure you turn up around a half-hour before your slot. If you want to watch someone else making the walk before your turn comes and neither they nor Caine object, then you can do so; we'll trump you down with them. The slots we've set up are: Brendan will go first at nine am, followed by Alan at nine-thirty then Sabel and Josef at ten and ten-thirty respectively."

"I would like to watch, if you don't mind," said Josef, glancing from Alan to Sabel and then finally to Caine. Sabel agreed and Caine smiled and nodded.

"Fine by me," replied Alan. "I would appreciate you being there."

Nimue smiled at Alan. "I'll be there too" she said softly.

Alan actually smiled back at her. "Thanks."

For some reason,this exchange, made Marcel choke a bit on the wine he was swallowing. I frowned. What was his problem with Nimue's friends? Marcel turned a little more red in the face than is usual for someone choking. He immediately turned toward Josiah and Caine and started whispering to them. Caine looked bewildered but amused, then started talking quietly to them, sitting back from the table.

The King went on: "Next are Marcel, Alex and Josiah at eleven, eleven-thirty and twelve."

"That shoots the lunch date," quipped Josiah.

Marcel suggested, "Well, I suppose that we might have to make it dinner instead. Or perhaps breakfast? "

Josiah snickered. "Breakfast of the day of the walk? The condemned men ate a hearty meal..."

Marcel chuckled at that. "Well, considering that breakfast is the most important meal of the day, I should assume that it would prelude the most important activities of the day. I suppose that you were thinking of a blindfold and cigarette perhaps?"

The King seen unamused and kept on: "Geraint, you're first after lunch at two, with Esteban, Bodey and Elena at two-thirty, three and three-thirty. Jashaan, you're on at four. Nimue, you were originally due to make the attempt the day after tommorrow of course. But, we've been wondering if bringing it forwards to tommorow evening might be better, provided your mother approves. Caine says he'll be OK with that. Right, Caine?"

Caine smiled at Nimue and asked her: "Would seven o'clock suit?"

That would be fine, thank you." She smiled back nervously.

At this point, Carmel got unsteadily to her feet. Nervously, she looked down the table at the King and said: "I'm afraid I'm feeling rather unwell, Your Majesty. The passage through a Trump and this rich food seem to have proved too much for me. If you'll excuse me I shall go and rest somewhere until I feel better. Perhaps...?" She looked down at the queen, who looked considerably less well than Carmel actually did.

"Of course you are excused, Carmel." the King said. "Vialle, would you care to help her out? And I think Nimue might want to go with you." Did he know that his wife was the one in distress, or was this show for his benefit?

Nimue got up and hurried over to the queen and Carmel eagerly. The three of them headed for the door with the queen, supported, in the middle. Uncle Benedict looked at the King, then stood up, saying "Excuse me also," and then left.

Once the doors closed again, Caine asked "What made you want to bring your _mother_ Marcel? She is quite lovely, although I am not one of those who has succumbed to her charms, but don't you think she was out of place here?" I was shocked. What had brought that on?

Father got up and turned to the King. "If you will grant me leave, I had best return to the forest." The King nodded and Father turned and strode for the door. It closed with a bang behind him. I watched him go, wishing I could get out of here as well. None of the elders said anything to Caine about what he'd just done. Were they all afraid of him?

Marcel looked up the table at Jashaan, who had, understandably, relaxed after Father had left, and said, "Jashaan, you look a little nervous. Does Julian put you on edge as much as he does Alex?" He grinned at me. This, right after his mother had been slandered? I just glared at him.

Jashaan turned and looked Marcel in the eye. "I ... wouldn't know," he said coldly.

Marcel leans over and whispered apologetically to me, "Relax, Alex. I am merely joking. You should relax a little more though. I am sure that everyone saw how you reacted to Julian when he left. I was just trying to make light of it, instead of allowing the others to form their own opinions." I could hardly believe this, after he'd made such a fool of himself already.

I looked down at my still-full plate. "I've no secrets to keep with regards to Father. They may think w-what they want, assuming they even c-care." I shouldn't even bother to argue...

Marcel whispered, "If you wish, we can try to contact Julian after dinner."

I nodded, "He m-must know something about Morgan by now."

Marcel smiled frustratedly and shrugged. He looked back at Jashaan and tried again, "My, that's an interesting tattoo you have. What exactly is it supposed to be?" Worse and worse...

I looked from Jashaan to Marcel and whispered, horrified, "M-marcel, that might be a b-brand, a-an identifier. It looks like some kind of a number, that someone else might have put on him."

Jashaan glared at Marcel this time. "That," he said frostily, "is none of your business." He looked away again.

Marcel looks back, as if surprised, and whispered to me, "_Well_, I had no idea. How was I to know? Mind you, I do not think he needs to be so rude about it!" He sat back in his chair and looked back at Jashaan. He said apologetically, "I am truly sorry, Jashaan. I did not mean to offend you. I was merely interested in the nature of the tattoo." He then picked up his glass and looked at it, "It has been brought to my attention that you might be rather touchy about that subject, so I will not mention it again tonight." He smiled at Josiah. I wondered for a moment if Uncle Caine had just put him up to this.

"Let me know when it's officially time to talk business," said Josiah impatiently, "because there's a few things that need chewing over... Just an after-drinks chat...although if asked, I might be able to force myself to make it a topic for dinner conversation... Y'see, back home I'm chasing a Moonrider."

I looked up at the King, "C-can't we just get that over with?"

"Alex is right. I think now is as good a time as any," the King sighed. "Just don't spoil my dessert." And, on cue, dessert and coffee were brought round. I knew better than to accept any.

Josiah looked around the table, and seized the opportunity to make a general address. "The basic facts are that attacks have been made, with varying degrees of success, on members of the family within a damn small timespan. There was an ambush repelled by Papa Julian, attacks on Jashaan and Nimue, the disappearance of Fiona and her kids, and, with my condolences, King Random, the death of Martin."

Jashaan glared at Josiah this time. The King left his dessert untouched. Flora stirred her coffee absently, then looked up and asks quietly, "Does Julian know you call him that?" Caine waved dessert away but spooned cream and sugar into his coffee.

Josiah grinned at her. "Call it a filing system, Aunt Flora. I had a father. Nice guy, stockbroker, did okay by his weird son as best he could. I both like and respect Julian, and Lord knows I'm convinced of the parentage by the resemblances, but calling him 'Dad' sounds funny just yet, kind of thuds off the tongue."

He went on, "Similar things happen to the same group of people in that sort a span of time, it's a fair guess they have a common cause. Around the same period, back in Chicago, where I'm a cop, I was chasing a very competent assassin who identified herself to me as a Moonrider, and told me she was working with others. Back then, I didn't know what one of those was. Julian filled me in on it, and also Geraint's vision brought some more information out.

"I don't know if Tir visions are admissible evidence, but supports my working theory, that some Moonriders have decided to begin picking off the family. Now, I don't know what your plans to investigate or pursue the matter are, but back in Chicago the woman is still active and I don't like outstanding cases. I'm planning to go after her myself..."

"A few minor questions present themselves," Caine commented. "For example: What was this assassin up to? Exactly how competetent was she? And how and why did she identify herself to you as a Moonrider?"

"By my standards, she was pretty fantastic. Barehanded, damn near bare-everything, she wiped out several trained and armed corp security types, part of her little vendetta against an outfit named DataGem. She identified herself to me by bits and pieces... she spotted me as an Amberite, and broke into my apartment. Told me some things about how we were enemies by history, but tried to recruit me. Julian helped me identify her as a Moonrider later, when I told him the tale. She told me it was so many days ride between where I was and where she was.

"DataGem, which I suspect has an Amberite link, as somebody may have made a cute pun on Jewel of Judgement, was up to the ultimate advertising gimmick, working subliminal mind control. They tested it out on some isolated natives, who they then slaughtered as part of closing up the experiment.

Alan asked, "Do you actually have any evidence to back up this theory?" presumably about the Amberite link.

Josiah grinned "Not yet... She told me I could find her anytime, which didn't make sense before I heard of the Pattern. Now, I intend to. Pointers from Papa Julian and Marcel are a heckuva lot better than what you pick up at the police academy and scrapping on the streets, so I think I've got a fair chance in a fight. She and her bunch framed a transient as the assassin, so officially the case is closed. Unofficially, DataGem knows it's still in hot water and was trying to bring me aboard...when I didn't bite, they tried to get rid of me..which was where Julian showed up.

"This Amberite stuff got me ambitous. I was planning to get back and wipe out DataGem _and_ bring in Katja, as far as I'm concerned, the case is still open. Then we've had all these other incidents, all of which sound like Katja's sort of game. Now I don't know what sort of investigation you were planning, Random, but I'd say there's a sweet lead back where I called home, and I'll find my badge there on the way back..."

Uncle Gerard, looking worried, asked "Do you know how she knew you were one of the family?"

"Assuming she didn't work off resemblance or a DNA scan... maybe as an uninitiated Amberite she picked up on my background 'reality'?"

"It doesn't work that way, Josiah," Flora told him, "and even a DNA scan would just reveal you to be unusual rather than one of the family." Uncle Gerard and Uncle Corwin nodded in agreement.

Josiah suggested: "Otherwise, we have the really cute possibility that whoever left me in Chicago was somebody Katja knew about. Julian implied Amberites like to plan a ways back..."

Uncle Corwin asked: "Are you sure these DataGem people were trying to kill you? None of us would be interested in mere mind control over shadow dwellers as we can get what we want from them anyway. But something with applications here in Amber or against us personally might be thought worth looking into by some."

Josiah spectulated some more: "You can boss about Shadow folk on an individual basis, or find a population that are basically inclined to agree with you. Large-scale precision programming would be something new, yes? Also... is the difference between Amberite will one of quantity or quality? If you had a toy like theirs, and were up to something, some sort of reality shaping, that involved a lot of willpower, couldn't you, theoretically, use large-scale mind control to get the local population to back you up?"

"No," replied Caine with what I was now coming to recognize as his usual semi-smile, "and no."

Aunt Llewella looked at Caine, then explained, "You'll understand why your first point is wrong with more experience of shadow shifting. as for your second, the difference is qualitative, not quantitative."

"Hm," Uncle Gerard pondered, "so when you refused to join them maybe they tried to kidnap you for use as a test subject."

"Before they tried to kill me, they tried to recruit me...but an anonymous tip was that they were going to do me in anyway. Based on how Katja talked, my inclination is to suspect they didn't know I was abandoned and just figured I was an Amberite up to no good, at least as far as they were concerned."

"Which means you had better be damn careful when you go back," decided the King, "and take a few of us with you when you go."

"And try to find out if they've found themselves other, er, test subjects since Julian rescued you from them," added Flora.

Josiah grinned at them. "Definitely on my 'to do' list. I was talking with Marcel about going in with him, and Alex laying back in case we needed a cavalry or a Trump out. But if anyone else can cope with high-tech..."

I refused to feel honored, especially since I'd already turned this offer down. "You've forgotten," I growled at him, "What I said t-to you the last time you decided I'd serve you that way. No. Scheming with Marcel behind my back won't help, he has no power over me either. You can offer me a place by your sides as an equal, or you can go to hell, and I d-don't even care if you manage to b-bring any Moonriders with you." I looked away from them, disgusted.

"Alex, if I didn't trust your reflexes, your eye, your stamina and your gut instincts, I wouldn't be asking you to guard our exit...but last I heard, Marcel knew his way around high-tech areas and you didn't, and I'm even leery of bringing him which tells you something..."

"I've more learning of that than you'd think, and I learn fast, but no matter. I am now free of any obligation to you until Father sends me in after you. You had also better ask Marcel _exactly_ what he means by "high tech'." Marcel's Shadow was hardly more advanced than Amber... His idea of "high tech" was a steam engine...

The King said quietly, "Tell us all about the Moonriders, Corwin."

Uncle Corwin pushed his empty bowl to one side, took a gulp of wine and cleared his throat before beginning. "I'll assume you all know the basics story. If not, find out later from someone who does. The Moonriders are a race nearly as old as we of Amber. They have a limited ability to traverse Shadow, albeit only under certain circumstances, and came originally from an area of Shadows around the once-great city of Ghenesh."

"Could you be a bit more specific about that, please?" asked Alan. Uncle Corwin gave Alan an annoyed glare (which Alan didn't seem to notice) and continued.

"For long years, well before we knew of either of them, they were enemies of the Courts, fighting a long, losing battle against them. Ghenesh is close to the Courts and so, as both expanded, they ended up competing for territory. The Moonriders are a long-lived and slow-breeding race. Slower even than us, so I am told. So eventually, the sheer weight of numbers of the Courts made them decide to seek new territories in a new direction. And moving away from the Courts led them towards us.

"We were at war from the first, confused encounter," his gaze flickered past Caine, "and Oberon commanded us to show no mercy. They were fierce, desperate and ever-surprising opponents. One small force group managed to penetrate to Kolvir itself and was only stopped from reaching the city and castle by Benedict alone. After we had destroyed their armies and driven them a certain distance away from Amber, a distance which Oberon forbade us from travelling beyond, we heard no more of them.

"But, starting about a year ago, I was contacted by a group of them. The contacts were first hesitant and one-sided but I am now able to contact them on a roughly monthly basis and we trust each other reasonably well. The group I speak to claim to represent the bulk of the surviving Moonriders. Their purpose for contacting me was to ask for my aid against Chaos. In exchange they offered information, including something about the death of my son, Merlin. The aim of this group is to recover, rebuild and repopulate Ghenesh, their once capital."

"Both when and how did Merlin die?" asked Josiah.

Uncle Corwin ignored the question and continued straight on. Caine whispered something to Josiah.

"I could not agree to aid them, but did agree to tell of my dialogue with them to most of the family. While I now have no connections to the Courts, there are a number in the family who have."

Josiah's eyes widened. "I may be one of them. Julian didn't know who Momma was, but Katja said that there were blood animosities on both sides of my family. I assume Moonriders don't have any case against stockbrokers..." Silently, I cursed Josiah for a fool. What a confession to make! And he disgraced Father as well... Thank God Carmel wasn't here...

Uncle Corwin turned to Alan and said, "My understanding is that the Moonriders can in general only traverse shadow under moonlight, although they may have artefacts that for small groups can get round this requirement." Alan nodded.

Uncle Gerard asked, "Ghenesh is now Princess Allyara's hideaway, isn't it? They must be stopped. If the council were to find out we had allowed an attack on Swayvill's sister without warning them, we might end up at war again!"

The King explained to us, "Princess Allyara is King Swayvill of Chaos' younger, spinster sister. Although she is a rcluse and reportedly as infirm as he is, she is technically his heir, although none in Chaos would likely support her and I doubt she has any interest in succeeding him."

Caine interjected "Bleys once told me that she was reported to be one of Oberon's lovers for a time years ago." Flora and Uncle Corwin immediately gave him very hard stares but, his cheerful tone and half-smile unchanged, he continued smoothly "Or someone told me that tale, at any rate." Crass git.

"Caine, you may be in grave danger of being my favorite Uncle!" laughed Josiah. That, I felt, said nothing good about either of them.

Caine asked, "Has anyone else had any contacts with the Moonriders?" No one responded.

The King called for port and brandy. He told us: "I don't want anyone to worry about either these visions or the Moonriders overmuch. In my experience, visions seldom come true and never mean what they're interpreted to mean. Also, I strongly doubt that all, or even many, of our recent setbacks are directly connected. Those of you who don't know about it should consider asking Marcel or Alex about the ambush in Arden, or talking to Jashaan sometime about the creatures he fought."

Josiah persisted: "Maybe it's an indirect connection, but there's enough coincidences I'm betting on a connection somewhere..."

Random stood up "Anyway, lets move somewhere more comfortable, those of us who want to continue to talk. Anyone who wants to go and _rest_ prior to walking the Pattern tommorrow, feel free." He opened the door to another room.

Alan rose from his seat, said "Goodnight!" to the assembly in general, and walked out of the dining room.

Recognizing my cue, I also headed for the door. Marcel stood and reached out to draw me back to the table, but I knew perfectly damned well it wasn't worth it. I shook my head and got the hell out of there.

The next chapter hasn't been written yet.