Winds That Will Be — Aedan's Journal
"Nobody came to tell me to stop. Nobody came to listen."
Aedan's Journal. Session 8-5-00.
© 2000 Todd Worrell
Darkness.
I smelled the familiar blend of Carabian tobacco and old leather that usually surrounded my uncle, along with the distinct, unwashed stench he occasionally cultivated at sea. The image shifted from black, to blurred, to Caine. He looked haggard, unshaven, with ruddy cheeks.
"Aedan?" he drawled.
"Yes, hello."
"May I come through?" he smirked and extended a hand. The skin on his knuckles was scraped raw, and his thumb was bloody and purple.
I reached, felt the contact, and gripped. He stepped toward me and into Gabriel's rooms. His odor came with him.
I heard the clatter of pencils and sketchbook hitting the carpet.
"Uhh…" Gabriel sputtered.
"Welcome to Amber," I released Caine's hand.
He looked around him and stood up straight. His unwashed hair hung around his gaunt face. What I had taken for color in his cheeks was actually scrapes and bruises. His clothes were torn.
And he was bound. Manacles connected his ankles. A second manacle hung from one hand. Caine cast a disdainful glance and the cuffs whipped open and fell to the floor. I felt the brief flicker of a sea breeze that accompanied my uncle's magic. I picked one set of shackles up and raised an eyebrow at him. He ignored me, his green eyes boring holes in Gabriel.
"Uh… that was really fast," Gabriel referred to the spell Caine had just cast to free himself.
"Are you hungry?" I asked. Food first, talk later had been one of Caine's maxims when involved in the sorts of exciting underhanded goings-on he and I had regularly engaged in.
"I could always murder another sandwich," he stated, and walked to the table to do just that. He swallowed three before gulping down the entire pitcher of cranberry juice and two glasses of water.
"It's been awhile," I gave Caine the code phrase indicating that he was in a place without immediate danger.
"I had better report to his soon-to-be-Royal Highness." Caine began sauntering toward the door.
"How did you hear?" Gabriel obviously didn't know Caine as well as I did. The man heard everything.
"I was in Texorami recently."
"Well, any leaks in security were yours, then, and not ours."
"Leaks?" Caine smiled threateningly.
"Amber still has some enemies," Gabriel tried.
"I'm aware of that," Caine put his hand on the doorknob and paused. "Have you spoken with your father recently?"
"Last evening," Gabriel replied, apparently missing the obvious, again.
"Excellent," Caine nodded. "He was out of view for a while there."
"He's been busy," Gabriel said, but Caine had already left. I looked at my cousin. I had thought he would have been warned about Caine. Perhaps he had. It had made no difference.
Then again, Caine hadn't even said thank you to me. In fact, he hadn't said a word to me. I hurried to catch up with him in the hallway, carrying the manacle he had discarded.
Since he wasn't really talking with me, it was easy to give him an update. I told him about the family meeting that Julian had stormed out of, Random and Fiona's disastrous experiment, the creature on the Pattern, and the subsequent sighting of the Unicorn. That got his attention.
"Are you certain?" Caine actually stopped mid-stride and turned to face me.
"Yes," I said. "Brand, Gerard, Corwin, Flora, and Benedict were there. Julian arrived with the Unicorn."
He rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. I waited for the first of what could be several questions about how I knew what I knew, whom I had spoken with, evidence that remained. Instead, we both heard the shriek and the clatter of a dropped tray.
The Unicorn capered around the corner of the hallway.
I stood silently, rooted to the floor as she slowed and walked to us. She was smaller than I had expected. Her shoulder was only about as high as my waist. A soft, white glow surrounded her. Her hooves made no sound on the carpet. In fact, she made no noise at all. I turned to see how Caine was taking this and he wasn't there.
He was on his knees, his forehead pressed to the ground. Our family's immortal symbol approached him. She lowered her horn and it passed into Caine's head like a ghost through a wall. I took a step backwards and knelt in the little sitting alcove just off the hall.
"Can it not be someone else?" Caine whispered.
"I've always served you… I won't accept this burden." The Unicorn shifted and raised her horn. It was still within Caine somehow. He bent even lower. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
"I see it," he said. A long pause. "Yes."
The Unicorn raised her head proudly and faded away.
Caine struggled to rise. I moved forward and helped him to the little alcove's window seat. He was still crying.
"Are you alright?" I asked.
He blinked, and his eyes focused on me. He took a deep breath.
"Aedan, fetch Corwin to me."
* * *
Corwin and I hurried. He slowed as he saw Caine's tattered pant legs sticking into the hall. As we got closer, I could see that Caine was sitting up straighter now. When he saw us, he nodded at Corwin.
"It has been a long time since you've been here," Corwin said.
"Do you even remember the last time I was in Amber?"
"Yes."
"Good. Perhaps I should get to the point." Caine squared his shoulders. "Grayswandir. I need it."
Corwin took a quick breath. "That's… interesting," he said.
"Interesting it may be," Caine said as he stood and faced his brother. "But I need it immediately."
Corwin narrowed his eyes at Caine. "Where are you going?" he asked.
"To perform an errand that requires the use of your blade, brother."
"That isn't very much information, Caine." Corwin placed one hand on his blade, almost protectively.
Caine grimaced. I knew he wouldn't beg, and I wondered if he was thinking the same thing.
"Is it something to do with what the Unicorn told you?" I suggested.
"Oh," Corwin huffed. "The Unicorn told you to take Grayswandir. And I am supposed to believe that?"
"The Unicorn did not say that I required your sword," Caine admitted. "However, it would be most useful for the task I must perform."
For a moment, Corwin looked as if he were about to spit. Then he exhaled and looked away. He stared out the alcove window for the space of a dozen heartbeats.
Corwin unbuckled the belt that held Grayswandir, wrapped the belt around the scabbard, and held it in front of him. He held it for a half minute, then extended it, hilt-first, to Caine.
Caine quickly hid his look of surprise, then took the sword. He buckled it around his shoulder so the end wouldn't brush the ground.
"How soon are you leaving? Is there anything I should tell Martin?" I played the squire to my uncle, adjusting the straps on his back so that the sword's hilt was within easy reach.
"I'll be passing that way on my way out," Caine answered, and strode off toward the Royal Chambers. Corwin and I watched him go.
"Aedan," he clapped one hand heavily on my shoulder. "What transpired here?"
I told him as we walked. We followed Caine's path, albeit more slowly. As we went by my chambers, I dropped off the manacle. Something about it struck me as odd. If it were real enough to hold Caine, it might prove useful in the future. A couple servants were busy scrubbing the wall and floor where someone had apparently spilled something. We strolled past the guards, past the various Golden Circle luminaries hovering about the outer chamber of Martin's offices. The guards to the room Martin was using as his private office crossed their spears to block our way. Corwin and I just waited. They exchanged a nervous glance, then drew back their spears. One even opened the double doors for us.
Martin and Caine were hugging. Corwin's sword stuck up incongruously over Caine's back. I conspicuously studied the room. Piles of papers covered every available surface. Sketches and photos of men and women I didn't recognize were pinned to the walls.
The two men had released each other.
"I'm sorry you won't be able to remain home," Martin told Caine.
"I'll be back." Caine turned and saw me. "You be careful," he told me, then he chuckled and shook his head. A wash of rainbow colors enveloped him and he disappeared. Corwin went into the outer chamber to talk with the other kingdoms' ambassadors.
Now it was my turn to tell Martin what I had seen. He was especially interested in how the Unicorn seemed to communicate by putting her horn into Caine's head.
"Spooky," he said. "I wish the Unicorn would tell me what to do."
I told him of my intention to visit the Courts of Chaos. He said he would have a report drawn up summarizing what we knew about the Courts' politics. Corwin spoke up, telling me how dangerous it was.
Lastly, he told me he had arranged for funerals for my dead aunts and uncles, including the King. Someone would contact me via Trump if I weren't around.
Unless I were dead. So I expected to be there, one way or another.
* * *
Amber Castle's library is a big place, full to the rafters of books, charts, maps, and curios—and drums.
Random's drum kit didn't have any dust on it. I had heard the king play it a couple times the six months I'd been here. Random had been an excellent drummer, moving from restrained power to a wall of noise and back again at will. His set was a full jazz kit, with two snares, seven toms, two rides, and a splash cymbal that just begged to be struck.
I picked up a drumstick and struck it. The tinny crash bounced around the room. I had often wondered why Random hadn't moved his kit to someplace else. Now I knew; the acoustics in this place were fantastic.
I sat behind his kit on a small table and played my flute as loudly as I could. I ran through Green Dolphin street, Four in One, A Night in Tunisia, Autumn Leaves, and finished with a rousing One O'clock Jump. Nobody came to tell me to stop. Nobody came to listen. I had the echoes and the reverberations all to myself. It was good.
Random, I thought, I never took you to the Bone Orchard, so I brought part of it to you. I hardly knew him, but he had treated me like a friend right since the beginning, and I missed him.
Then I had to get to work. Old Lynn helped me find everything worth looking at about the Houses of the Courts of Chaos with nary a comment on my music. He even brought a platter heaped with pitas, hummus, tahini sauce, and tsatsiki. I decided that I liked him.Gramble was the head of House Sawall.
Mandor was a well-known sorcerer and shrewd manipulator with a weakness for fine wine.
Dara was Gramble's second wife and mother of Corwin's son Merlin. She was also reputed to be descended of Benedict and had walked the Pattern to prove it. Her sorcerous skills were of a combative nature and she wasn't exactly beloved by all.
Merlin had mastered the Logrus. He had survived many duels with both blade and spells. There was less about him than I expected, given his Amber heritage.
Of the other houses, Helgram also had a valid claim to the throne, but Sawall's was generally thought to be more sound. The other major houses included Hendrake, Jesby, Chanicut, and Amblerash. The Priests of the Serpent could also be considered a valid political force. They were an independent, non-noble association of chaos demons bound to the Serpent's cause.
The geography of Chaos was chaotic, to say the least. Places move, as Caine once told me. Much of their realm consisted of overlapping shadows, called ways. If you went clockwise around a tree, you were in one place; go around the tree widdershins and you ended up someplace else.
There were very few landmarks that remained relatively constant throughout the Courts. Caine had made me memorize their names, although I had only seen two from a great distance. The Fire Gate marked the entrance to the Courts proper. The Great Vortex at Baramac touched the Abyss, where the seas of a million oceans swirled into a gigantic downspout of black nothingness. When I had seen that spectacle from the deck of the Valiant, I thought my heart would burst. It was thunderously loud and I knew, I just knew we were going to sink and be smashed into tiny, bloody bits.I shook my head to clear it of the terrifying memory of that place. A break was what I needed. I collected my notes and told Lynn to keep digging. He said if he found anything worthy of note he would send word to me.
I bumped into Gabriel in the hall. According to him the group of Golden Circle dignitaries were gathering at four o'clock in the Oak Room. Flora was unavailable and Martin and Corwin were probably going to be busy. He and I decided to shoulder some of the family schmoozing responsibility. I said I would meet him at ten till the hour at his rooms.
That gave me an hour to freshen up. I showered, cleaned up, tried to comb my hair down. Since it had been shot through with silver it was even less cooperative; after twenty minutes of trying I gave up and it resumed its usual, twelve-points-of-the-compass look within moments. A white shirt with a high lace collar, short black suede jacket, and purple velvet leggings tucked loosely into my calf-high black leather boots. I had shaved this morning and wouldn't need to for at least three days. I smiled mischievously at my reflection. I looked pretty damn good.
Gabriel, on the other hand, was wearing the same green and brown outfit he had been wearing since the explosion. I coerced him into a clean-looking forest green doublet, but his hair was hopeless: moss-green with hints of his old red. It looked like a bird's nest on acid.
"Do you have any hats suitable for indoor wear?" I suggested.
He didn't. Oh well. The Golden Circle crowd would probably just attribute it to our family's well-known history of eccentricity.
The event was a festive thing, with plenty of liquor flowing. The Comtessa Del Invirria was charming in an intelligent sort of way. Tall, dark, and slim, she didn't laugh at everything I said, unlike the rest of the vacuous young women. Sometimes being a Lord of Amber can try one's patience.
But I smiled. I shook the men's hands and kissed the ladies'. I made witty remarks about the nature of Shadow, commented on the wines, and listened to the political chatter with a sincere look on my face. In short, I talked a lot and said nothing.
It was a typical party in Amber's palace.
* * *
Dinner for the family was served buffet style since most of the kitchen staff were busy with the visiting dignitaries' formal meal. We were informed that Corwin would be dining with them, and Martin said he was expected to put in an appearance as well.
The acting regent looked exhausted and ridiculous. Someone had convinced him that he should be wearing medieval clothing. Martin was dressed garishly in an ensemble composed of bright orange, crimson, and brilliant emerald green that in no way complemented the dark circles under his eyes.
I was across the table where I could keep an eye on the door. Sitting to Martin's left were Gabriel and Gregory. They had heard about the appearance of the Unicorn and wanted the full story. I told it, as well as the details of Caine's request for Grayswandir from Corwin. Everyone was amazed at how easily Corwin handed his sword over to his brother.
"If I thought that I could borrow some of Corwin's stuff," Gabriel said. "I would change my colors to black and silver."
"Can you do that?" Martin asked, eyeing his own attire with disgust.
"Martin," I told him. "You could wear the colors of Amber: green and white." I resolved to have the royal seamstress work on a nice outfit or three for him. I would send word after dinner.
So we talked. Gregory informed us that Benedict's top man in Arden, General Fulke, had actually requested the assistance of Julian's rangers. This was apparently a big deal, as Benedict had refused all of Julian's offers of help. Martin thought so too, since it was the first admission from Benedict's crowd that all was not going smoothly in Arden.
"There are still Faerie in Arden," Gregory continued. "Several of the Unseelie are continuing some project of my father's. It would appear that Julian was part and parcel of what was happening to Benedict's troops in the great forest."
"There is evidence that Julian had private troops who were not sworn to serve Amber," Martin said.
"Yes," Gregory agreed. "Elves who had no allegiance to the throne, but only owed favors to Julian."
"What do we want to do with Arden?" Gabriel asked. "Re-establish old treaties with the fey lords?"
"I would suggest limiting access to Amber from the fey realms if possible, or at least watching the gates," I suggested.
"That would be extremely difficult," Gregory said. "There are at least a dozen known Ways in Arden, and undoubtedly many more."
"I myself traveled one of them, once. The Mushroom Marker trail." Martin wiped his face with his napkin and sat back.
"That particular trail was dangerous then, but it is rather more so now. My guess is that Julian had treaties with each of the Waykeepers as well as with the lords of the fey."
"So you're saying that you think it would be too difficult to negotiate all those individual treaties?" I asked.
"It would be a very long and complicated task," Gregory admitted.
"Who is the ruler of the Sidhe?" Martin asked.
"Finnvarra," Gregory said.
"Is there any point in talking to him?"
"Good luck," I told him. "He's currently a statue."
Martin looked like he wanted to ask, then shook his head.
"Is he being replaced?" Martin asked.
"I don't know," Gregory stated. "Giselle might know."
"I need to talk to her," Martin said.
Gregory produced a sheet of parchment from his belt pouch. He unfolded it and placed it on the table where we all could see it. It was a list he had obtained of the fey nobles involved in our troubles. I copied the names. One of them seemed familiar.
Nuirre was a name known in my homeland of Gealorea. I remembered a story about him where he had schemed to be secretly crowned king of the land in the fairy tale, only to be thwarted by a noble heroine who strongly resembled my mother.
"Julian's hunting lodge has been a base for the fey to prey upon Benedict's troops in Arden," Gregory revealed. I wondered how long he had known that. If he had been Julian's confidant it would explain his reticence to reveal to me the locations of the fey spawning grounds/gates, back before the veil had been destroyed and Amber had been completely overrun by imps.
"We can't give over Arden," Martin weakly slammed a fist on the table. He sat up and pointed at Gregory. "I want you to continue to be liaison between Fulke and the castle. Keep him appeased. In the meantime, what needs to be done in Arden?"
"One, restore the Arden guard troop quotient. We need those rangers." Gregory produced another piece of parchment with his recommendations already written down. He continued reading from the paper. "Two, I think you should talk to Giselle. We need to find out what the fey want. Three, examine Julian's personal belongings here in the castle. I've been through his notes at the lodge, but I didn't find anything out we don't already know. And four, we need to negotiate with the Sidhe. Elven troops like the ones Julian had would really help our position in Arden. They know it better than we ever could."
Martin said he would do all he can.
"You know," he revealed, "Oberon was not personally popular in Faerie. I've found some things in dad's notes that state Grandfather knew all about the goings-on there, and that he treated them a little differently than he treated other nearby shadows."
"What do you mean by 'differently'?" I asked.
"I don't know," Martin admitted. "But they didn't have normal ambassadors like the Golden Circle shadows."
That was interesting. Of course, it made sense that Oberon had dealings with the fey, if they were as old as Giselle claimed. Then again, why was their existence such a secret? Flora's mother was supposedly fey. Corwin told me that, so he obviously knew about it. When I had mentioned to Random about the castle infestation, he was already aware of it. It was looking like Deirdre was familiar with the lords of Faerie; Finnvarra might even be my own father. Giselle had certainly believed that was true. Aside from the appalling fact that this would make me related to Flora's daughter on both sides of the family, I wondered how that might affect me.
Did it, for example, explain the strange abilities I had acquired after my initial visit to Tir Na Nog'th? Better yet, did it mean I had any rights in the fey realms themselves? Could I call on those rights to assist Amber in negotiations?
And could I get some cool stuff, like my horse, just for the luck of having strange ancestors? I put this issue down on my mental list of things I would check into when I got the time.
My musings were interrupted by Martin's hand slamming into the table again, this time with some force behind it. The plates and silverware rattled.
"Dammit!" he grimaced.
"Did Benedict mention something critical?" Gabriel asked him. Apparently Martin had spoken with our missing uncle via Trump.
"I would gather," Gregory interrupted, "that he's not interested in helping us?"
"He said something to the effect that when I was in real trouble I would know it." Martin said.
"That's discouraging," I said.
"What a sanctimonious jerk," Gregory gulped the rest of his wine.
Just then the door opened and Corwin's head popped in. He said that it was time for Martin to visit the formal dinner. Martin smoothed his hair down. He stood and left with Corwin. We all made our promises to keep each other apprised and left the room.
I let my feet lead me wherever they wished. After directing a servant to have suitable attire sewn for Martin, I found myself strolling in the Western Gardens. The sun was setting behind Kolvir somewhere, leaving the land in darkness and the sky fading to beautiful violet and ruby tones. The cries of seagulls as they flew south toward their roosting grounds on Cabra mixed with the faint rhythm of the waves.
I tried to organize what I knew about the past couple of days.
First, Random had summoned his brothers and sisters to ask them to refrain from using any of their powers while he and Fiona attempted some major feat involving the Pattern. That they failed was a safe assumption, given the destruction of the tower and the veil, the sudden influx of fey creatures, and the existence of the monster on the Pattern. The Universe began acting strangely, with the profusion of plant-life in and around the castle, and the odd diminishing of Shadow. Random and Fiona died.
Second, the Unicorn's appearance did more than just destroy the monster. She seemed to have given each of my aunts and uncles a task to perform. Gerard returned his famous sword to his brother Osric. Corwin shed thirty pounds and sobered up enough to become Martin's right-hand man. Flora saved Corwin's life and lost her legendary beauty in the process. She was apparently off on some task with Giselle right now. Brand was healed and renewing his might again in the Fount of Power. Benedict refused the Unicorn's request and removed himself from Amber. Llewella allegedly killed herself. Julian died to save Gerard.
The King of Chaos died, and one of the major power players in the Courts turned out to be that Dagda guy. According to Giselle, he had intended to manipulate Amber through Fiona in the same way he had controlled events in the fey realms. He's a cold, calculating man and someone to be wary of. His name was Mandor.
When I see him, I thought, I'll try to remember that.
* * *
Corwin wasn't too happy to see me. I suppose he was hoping for some rest. Spending all day with political bigwigs would make me want some peace and quiet too. I decided to cut to the chase.
"I'm going to the Courts of Chaos. Is there anything you can tell me about the place?"
"You'll get no help from us," he shrugged. "This has got to be an extremely informal visit. I assume you've got… something… to keep you from getting killed there. It would be very bad for Amber for you to die while visiting there right now."
"Is there anything helpful you can tell me about the place?" I slapped my hands against my thighs, exasperated. I didn't need a lecture; I needed some idea of which way was up.
Caine had told me of the shifting sky, the flimsy barriers between shadows, of the great dark canyon that swallowed Brand and my mother. I had read of the various political forces. It all seemed like a gigantic game of chess, but with pieces too numerous to count. I knew all kinds of facts about the place, but I wanted some feelings. Corwin's son lived there, and I had hoped that would have meant that he knew something more than just names and numbers. He was reputedly a man of instinct, as I was. I wanted to know what his gut told him.
"Helpful," he nodded angrily. "Okay. If you shift shadow incorrectly there, you die. You don't roll again. There's no 'Go to Jail' space. Historically, they hate members of our bloodline. They will hate you."
I studied my feet, the floor. Maybe I shouldn't have pushed him.
"Do you still have those Trumps of the Chaosians?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Let me see them." He held out his hand. I handed them to him.
He tucked them into an inside pocket of his doublet.
"Hey, what do you—?" I reached for my cards. Corwin pushed my hand away.
"Don't go rushing off. Let me set something up," he put his arm around my shoulders and we walked.
"Kid, I know this means a great deal to you, so I won't try to stop you. I think it's crazy to go rushing off to that place right now, but it's your choice. Look, I'll find you a place to stay in the Courts. I'll talk to someone I know there. In the meantime," he stopped. We were outside the door to my chambers. "Don't do anything stupid."
My uncle knocked on my door. My servant Morren answered.
"Good night," Corwin said, and gave me a gentle shove. He stood there until I went inside.
Was it really such a bad time to go? Caine had shown me the Fire Gate once. He said it was the beginning of the end, or something like that. What I remember is that it writhed and burned with green fire like an evil seductress. I had never forgotten that vision. What I didn't know about the Courts was enough to fill volumes. Still, my mother was there, stuck in that endless nothing they called the Abyss. Tomorrow, it was my turn.
But tonight I wasn't tired yet. So I went to work.
I started with the river pebble that Lord Tufty—what was his name? Eredwiff?—had given me. It was ensorcelled with a simple finding spell, with some strange fey twist. Apparently it didn't just tug in Tufty's direction, so I should take it out of my pocket before activating it.
After I had warmed up on that, I took out my mother's necklace. The chain and setting were platinum, white-hot silver with a hint of blue highlights, holding the gem in a reverse double-crescent design. The stone was a gorgeous cabochon-cut sapphire, sparkling with an inner fire reminiscent of my mother.
It had a vague Pattern-like quality to it, with some hints of the feelings I had when I used my Tir-granted powers. It was too complex for me to pin down exactly what it did, but it seemed like some sort of cross-shadow sorcerous device. Where the battery to power it should have been was something else. There was no way to activate it, so it either worked all the time or conditionally, like when the wearer was threatened.
It didn't seem to have Brand's taint, and it was real. It was all I had left of her. I clutched it in my hand as I slept.
* * *
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