Winds That Will Be — Aedan's Journal
"How Exactly is The King Chosen in Chaos?"
Aedan's Journal. Session 9-16-00.
© 2000 Todd Worrell
The coronation. What coronation? Did Mandor mean Martin's impending ascension? Maybe his knowledge of Amber was greater than we thought. But there weren't any plans for Martin's coronation, so that must mean there was going to be a new King in Chaos.
How long ago had Swayvill died? A week? Caine had always said that time ran in a crooked line in the Courts. How much time had passed at this end of the universe?
Time. Time. Time to get moving, I guess.
"How long before the ceremony?" I smiled at Mandor.
"Four hours."
"Enough time for me to become presentable."
"Oh?" he raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, I have been designated as an envoy to your kingdom."
"I'll have someone show you to a place of safety." Mandor gestured and a furry demon-creature about the size and shape of a monkey ambled over. It was dressed in black pantaloons and a white and black vest with a white flower of some sort embroidered on it.
"How exactly is the King chosen in Chaos?" I asked.
"There have only been two Kings in the long history of the Courts," he said, and shooed me away. "There isn't exactly a tradition about it."
I followed the monkey demon. He led me out the door and down a stone hallway. We passed a couple arched windows that displayed a riotous fog of colors. When I was near them my brain buzzed, and I felt a few of my memorized spells slip away to be replaced by a dull, insistent headache.
After a half-dozen turnings, the stones started to look different, new. We walked another thirty paces, then the monkey stopped in front of a blank section of wall. He looked at me and made a face. Gibberish sprung from his lips and I felt a mind-touch. I shrugged it off.
"That's rather impolite," I told him. He scowled at me and walked through the wall.
Caine had told me about that sort of thing, so I wasn't too surprised. I took a step forward and through the wall.
I was in a large, sumptuous living room with dark wooden floors and several comfy chairs facing a huge fireplace. Ordinary-looking light slanted in from a couple tall windows. There were seven doors that I could see. The air smelled faintly of cigars and sage, and magical energy was sparse.
My headache was gone.
The Monkey Demon was staring at me with its arms crossed in front of its chest, unhappy at something. It wiggled its fingers at its face, then pointed at me, then moved its mouth.
"I'm not hungry, thank you." I said.
The monkey demon threw his arms down and squawked angrily. He stomped off through a door and I was alone.
I looked around and saw nothing of particular note. I picked a door and went through into a hallway. Eventually I found my way to the main entrance, a foyer with a truly majestic chandelier. I went out the front door and, after checking to see that it didn't automatically lock.
Then I knocked on the door.
I waited.
I waited.
I kept waiting but nothing else happened. The house was large, with a high portico and tall columns. It sat at the end of a broad whitestone path that bisected an immense lawn. It was sunny and almost cold, the kind of day they usually describe as brisk.
I got cold. I went inside.
To the right of the foyer was a broad staircase. I walked slowly up it, my finger trailing along the banister: no dust. At the first landing was a portrait of something. I think it was a demon, but it was unlike any I had ever seen or heard of. It looked like a painting of a tree being struck by lightning during a heavy rainstorm, except it wasn't a tree, and it wasn't rain or lightning either. I stared at it for a moment or three. Inspiration failed to strike, so I continued up the stairs.
They opened onto a broad hallway. I took the most likely route and found a formal sitting room of sorts. It had a few shelves of books. I opened a dozen, but none of them were written in Thari.
And just in case you're wondering, none of them had pictures either.
However, along the far wall there was a huge oil portrait of Mandor, looking rather stodgy and boring in a black velvet suit jacket and white frilly shirt. Next to it was a portrait of an elderly man with fierce eyes. The frame was draped in black, so I assumed it was the late King Swayvill. On the other side of Mandor was a portrait of a mischievous-looking lady with short blondish hair dressed in blue and silver. She had the hint of a smile and I thought that this must be Dara, Corwin's acquaintance and the mother of his son.
Besides the usual assortment of chairs, there were several small tables and one large one. Glancing at the walls, I saw no bell-ropes, bells, or other means to summon servants. So I sat at the big table and wondered.
When all else fails, use your brain. Caine had never run out of maxims. After ten years, he had never repeated one, nor failed to have something witty to say when I faltered. It had been incredibly annoying, irritating, frustrating, and even infuriating at the time, but looking back now, I was actually somewhat impressed.
I could snoop around Mandor's mansion. I probably wouldn't find anything useful, but maybe Mandor wasn't as careful as everyone thought he was. I knew he was a risk-taker; to have impersonated the Dagda for all those centuries wasn't the act of a complacent man. Maybe I would open a door and find a hot tub full of gorgeous, lonely women waiting to share all of Mandor's deepest secrets with me. Or perhaps I would find Bleys locked in a secret vault. From the looks of things, the only thing I could be sure I wouldn't find was a servant. In any event, I was more likely to get caught in Mandor's boudoir without learning anything useful. I figured the best thing to do was to have someone find me. So I did.
I felt a spell reaching for me, trying to find me. I let it. Then, a trump call.
"Hello?" I said.
"Hello, Aedan…?" A contralto feminine voice said.
"Yes, and whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?" Her image formed in my mind, superimposed over the portrait, and I knew who it was an instant before she told me.
"I'm Dara of Sawall." She extended her hand. I took it and kissed her fingertips.
"A pleasure, my lady. I am Aedan, son of Deirdre of Amber."
"Would you come to me?" She raised her eyebrows at me. I acquiesced and stepped through the contact and into a conservatory. A deep mahogany grand piano dominated the room. The carpet was plush and squished under my feet. The walls were dark blue stone flecked with gold that looked to be solid lapis lazuli. A fireplace containing what appeared to be an electric shimmering flame sat beneath a ring of glowing white light. Interesting.
Dara herself was shorter than I expected. She was dressed in a sleeveless dark blue calf-length dress of some sort, with silver trim. She resembled her portrait, but her hair was an inch or so longer and the tips were silver. Her belt was made of woven silver, with a serpent-headed buckle with one red and one black eye. She wore three heavy rings, one of which was made of plain, dull steel.
"Welcome to my Ways," she smiled. She was very pretty, and I could see right away how Corwin might have been taken in by her. She was graceful and charming, and somehow sincere behind her polite façade. Plus, she had freckles. I love freckles.
Dara took my arm and walked me out a door and down a few hallways. We made how-do-you-do talk. She seemed genuinely excited and I guessed she was involved with the impending Coronation.
"How fortunate that I will be able to attend the Coronation." I said.
"You'll find many eager escorts, I'm sure."
"Thank you, my lady. As you may know, I only recently arrived. I'm not familiar with the particular processes of the Coronation ceremony."
"Well," she waved blithely. "There are a number of candidates right now, and I'm sure you wouldn't want me to bore you with the details when you'll see the results very soon." She smiled shyly and batted her eyelashes at me. "In any case, I am most curious about you. Were you forced to come here?"
That was an interesting question. It reminded me of Corwin's warnings and I told myself to be more on my guard and less, well, less infatuated.
"No," I said, and offered her my letter of introduction. She unrolled it, scanned it quickly. Her eyes flickered as she read, the pupils narrowing until they looked like cats' eyes. Dara re-rolled the letter and handed it back.
"House Hendrake have asked repeatedly about Amber's status vis-à-vis the new King of the Courts." She said this like it was an explanation.
"I am not enabled to negotiate on Amber's behalf, but I see no reason why the treaties currently in place would not continue to be honored."
"There are new parties interested in… an exchange between our realms," She guided me down a long tunnel of smooth stone.
"My reports will certainly mention that," I said.
"Your situation here is… interesting." She stopped in front of a flickering portal of pale yellow set in the stone wall.
"What would you advise that I do?" I asked.
"You'll need to find a place to stay. I have had these quarters," she gestured to the portal, "made up for you. If they aren't to your liking, please let one of my staff know and I'll see what we can do to accommodate you. That is, if my brother hasn't already offered you his hospitality."
"I don't think so. His servant was rather uncommunicative."
"His servants' qualities are not readily apparent to the rest of us," Dara shrugged. She walked forward into the portal. I followed.
We were in a twenty-foot diameter room with organic walls that glowed pale yellow. Heat rose from a floor covered by a mauve and green carpet that moved as if in a slight breeze. There was no breeze. Three six-foot blobs of leather were positioned around a couple low tables. There was an archway in the wall that led to a smaller room with a washbasin and toilet of sorts.
"This will do quite nicely, thank you." I nodded, expecting Dara to hurry off. Instead, she sat down on one of the leather blobs. It made a plastic noise. I sat on another blob. It seemed to be filled with thousands of small somethings that conformed to my position. After a moment of shifting, it was surprisingly comfortable.
Dara poured a teal liquid from a decanter into two glasses. She offered me one. I took it and drank. It was cool and minty, with an aftertaste of spices. It cleared my palate and settled my stomach.
"Did you have a long journey?" She asked.
"No," I set the glass down on the low table to my right. "I came through on Mandor's trump actually."
"Oh," She shifted her weight slightly, relaxing. I felt comfortable in her presence, more comfortable than I should. I clenched my teeth and told myself to sit up straight. I tried, but it was impossible on the blob-chair. "Corwin said that you would be riding here."
"I set out on horseback, but I was significantly delayed in Osric's realm. I thought it prudent to hurry."
"Of course," she turned her head. Her eyes were a piercing blue. "Osric is welcoming visitors, then?"
"He wasn't exactly welcoming," I shrugged. "He seems to be involving himself in the Fey Court's upheavals. I think he is trying to become a player in the Game." I didn't know what that meant, but it sounded cool.
"Interesting." Dara sipped her drink and looked away like she was thinking. The way Caine had taught me this game, it was her turn to tell me something. So far, she had told me nothing. Oh well, it was fun just to be in this odd place talking with her. After my encounter with Osric, I didn't feel much like fencing verbally. If Dara wanted to tell me something, she would. Until then, I would be the perfect houseguest.
"I should check in with the Amber delegates," I said.
"I'll have someone notify them of your presence here," Dara set her glass down on a low table. "But you won't have time before the ceremony. In fact, I have some things I need to take care of. The coronation will take place in an hour, so you may freshen up. Clap once when you are ready." She stood and smoothed her skirt. "Please excuse me."
I stood and thanked her as she exited by the portal.
I undressed and bathed. The water was warm and oily and it smelled vaguely of lemon. It worked just fine, however, and I felt truly clean for the first time in a couple days. I shaved, tried to cajole my hair into a respectable appearance, and changed into the Formal Wear I had brought: purple crushed velvet leggings, low leather boots, a high-collared white lace shirt topped by a black velvet jacket with tails. I pinned the Unicorn brooch to the jacket lapel and studied my reflection in the mirror. I still had half an hour, so I scrubbed my brain using an old meditation exercise Variga had taught me. It helped me focus and fine-tune the spells that had been distorted earlier.
It had been about an hour, so I walked to the pale yellow portal and clapped my hands together once. Almost immediately, Dara stepped through the portal. She had changed her gown into a dark blue affair highlighted with silver embroidery and studded with sparkly gems of some sort. Around her wrist was a glowing circle of white light. I was beginning to detect a blue and silver theme.
"Are you ready to go?"
I was, so we did.
* * *
We walked through her Ways until we came to an outdoor place where an elegant carriage was waiting for us. The footman assisted Dara in and I followed her. When we were seated, she thumped the wall and the carriage began moving.
"Things are turning out well," Dara smiled broadly at me. She hummed a little melody. Whatever her errands had been, they must have gone well.
We made more small talk, saying nothing much and smiling at each other regularly. The carriage was small enough that our knees and ankles brushed against each other at every twist and turn. It seemed to me that her ankle lingered on mine for a moment longer than necessary, but Dara acted so innocent and girlish that I passed it off as an exuberance of energy. She certainly was pleased about something, and it made her absolutely lovely. Happiness can be very attractive at times.
Soon enough we passed under a ninety-foot tall marble arch inscribed with all sorts of runic designs. The air under it shimmered in that way that means some sort of Shadow veil. Once on the other side, I saw the great vast dark chasm that could only be the fabled Abyss. My heart skipped and I felt the cold weight of the necklace around my ankle. Dara said nothing, for once, and I felt alone with my thoughts.
I barely remembered her, but my mother had shaped my life more than anyone else. It was because of her that I would live for centuries and have the ability to pass from one world to the next, a light among the shadows. Caine had taken me as his ward. He had hauled me all over land and sea for over ten years, teaching me how to survive, but it was Deirdre that sang in my blood. Her portrait had haunted my childhood. I had stared at it hour after hour, hoping that she would return, that she would stay with me and make our house her home.
But she fell into the Abyss and was lost.
* * *
The coronation ceremony was to be held in a massive whitestone amphitheater. The crowd must have been at least a hundred thousand beings, some human, some not. I saw banners for all of the major Houses of Chaos as well as at least a hundred symbols I didn't recognize. One end of the amphitheater opened directly on to the Abyss. I wondered how the people sitting near the edge felt; my blood ran cold and Dara was leading me up the steps across the entire structure, some thousand feet away. In the center was a hovering square field of some sort. Insectoid forms were laying golden cords around it. The entire field was visible in some projection directly above it, magnified tenfold. I supposed that this was where the ceremony was to take place.
Dara led me toward a box sporting the green and silver banners of Sawall, but stopped perhaps thirty rows back. She nodded and a youngish man rose politely. He looked somehow familiar.
"Lord Aedan," Dara introduced us, "My son, Despil Sawall." I offered my hand. He took it gently, in a limp-wristed sort of way. I thought he was about to kiss my fingers, but he only bowed slightly.
"I understand that you're from Amber," he lisped.
"Yes, and only recently arrived. I don't know exactly who is to be King yet."
"Neither do we." Despil didn't elaborate.
"I see," I lied.
Looking around, I could see that the amphitheater was roughly divided into sections by household. There were numerous boxes for what I assumed were the most important members of the major households. In the Sawall box, Lord Mandor was speaking with Dara. He was wearing the robe I had seen him being fitted for earlier, with a white and red rose pinned to it. There was also a younger man with short dark hair clothed in purple and silver. His outfit was rather utilitarian, being a short silver shirt over dark purple tights, and I thought his choice of colors was commendable. I had seen his face before, and after seeing the way Dara fussed over him I knew he was Merlin, Corwin's son. Beside him was a humanoid form with gray shaggy hair, enormous fangs, and yellow eyes. I knew from Caine's description that this was Suhuy, the Keeper of the Logrus and the Mysteries of Chaos. He seemed to turn and look right at me. I shuddered and looked away quickly.
My brain tickled. It was Gregory.
"Gregory," I mumbled, "This isn't a good time."
"Oh," he sounded surprised. "I reached you. Trumps haven't been very reliable and—"
"Is this important?" I cut him off. "I'm at the coronation of the new King of Chaos." I stole a glance at Despil, but he was speaking with the green, lobster-headed thing seated on his other side.
"Who's the lucky guy?" Gregory asked.
"I don't think that's been decided yet."
"Oh. A thought has occurred to me and I wanted your opinion."
"Please hurry," I grimaced. Some of the beings around me were sure to notice a trump connection and might take offense.
"Given what has happened to Finnvarra's court, with the mortal figures turned to stone, might the spirits be accessible elsewhere—like say, Tir Na Nog'th?"
It was common knowledge that I had seen a vision in Tir. The fact that it seemed to be duplicated in the Fey realms wasn't well known yet, but every now and again people asked me about the City in the Sky like I was an expert. Seven Hells, I had only been in Amber for six months.
"It's certainly worth a try," I answered. "However, Tir won't appear for at least a week. Has anyone tried contacting the stone figures psychically?"
"Theoretically, we would need Trumps of them, which we don't have…."
"Now you're sounding like Gabriel."
We both laughed, then I remembered where I was. "Tell Martin that there will be a new King here soon, and ask Corwin to call me."
"I haven't seen Corwin in quite some time," Gregory rubbed his chin. "But I'll pass the word along."
He waved and disappeared. Suddenly, I felt another mind reaching out. It was Giselle.
"The funerals are tomorrow," she said. She could only mean the services for Random, Fiona, and Julian.
"Call me then," I smiled and severed the link. She looked like she was about to curse at me before her elfin face vanished.
I took a breath and looked about me. People and demons were talking loudly, each trying to be heard over the thousands of other voices. There was a harsh fanfare of horns and an enormous rumble as if the entire Shadow were being shaken. The insectoid beings on the field bowed in all directions. This was apparently the signal for the important types to descend. Dara led Merlin down from the Sawall box toward the field. Mandor followed. Their images were projected above them. The vision changed rapidly, showing all manner of people in fine silks and velvets striding proudly toward the center.
When the people all got to the middle, they stopped near each other. The whole place was quiet. From the projection overhead, I could tell that they were speaking to each other, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. Perhaps a dozen figures in gray robes with embroidered red snake designs shuffled up, their cowled heads bowed and hidden.
"The Council is presenting candidates," Despil whispered too close to my ear. "Those are Priests of the Serpent."
There was some measure of debating as candidates were presented, argued over, and largely rejected. After perhaps ten minutes, the Council members withdrew and returned to their boxes. Only Merlin and a hefty scruffy fellow in red remained inside the ring of golden cords.
"Who is the other guy?" I asked Despil. Around me I could hear the same question being asked by several voices.
"I don't recognize the fellow. Chanicut, certainly." I knew that by the red and white banner, three flower petals inside a circle, that was staked behind him. Merlin's banner of House Sawall shimmered in green and silver on his side, a geometric design counterchanged and slippery to the eye.
"It's odd," Despil continued. "If he were a viable candidate you would think he'd be well known." He frowned. In our section, people muttered as if this were some sort of trick. I squinted at Dara, now returned to her seat in the box. She was holding the smile on her face by sheer force of will, but she didn't look afraid: nervous, yes; tense, yes; awaiting Merlin's certain death, no.
At this point the two men turned and faced the crowds. Merlin raised his arms toward the Sawall section and every throat around me cheered loudly. The other guy did something similar toward Chanicut. Then both men bowed low toward the Abyss. It seemed to me to shimmer, but that might have been my adrenaline playing tricks with me. In the seats around me creatures were pounding on things and screaming in languages I didn't know. Even Despil was grinning like a madman, his eyes wide and feral.
There was an overwhelming sizzle that hurt, like a million invisible hornets had just flown through me. The priests of the Serpent retreated to the edge of the field, just outside the cord barrier. They lowered their cowls. The faces they revealed were noticeably serpentine, with fangs, slit eyes and split tongues. That figured. For a moment I had the ludicrous vision of our priests with silly pointy white horns growing out of their heads. Then Merlin and the Chanicut guy were moving.
A bright flash erupted from the Chanicut guy, whom I thought of as "Bear." The flash turned to a black cloud that floated toward Merlin, but a violet cloudburst from Merlin's hand banished the blackness. This sorcerous duel waged for several minutes, with lightning, sparks, funnel clouds, and swampy gas all making an appearance.
I wouldn't have thought it was possible, but the crowd cheered louder and louder. Shape-shifted vocal chords could really make noise, and I no longer wondered why the projection in the sky had no accompanying sound.
However, the insect buzzing had never gone away, and it grew as well. It made my teeth ache, but nobody else seemed to notice it.
Now the combatants were no longer human. Bear was a large brown mass, like an Earth elemental. Merlin was a large avian with silver claws. Bear became aqueous and Merlin shot lightning at him. An electric discharge shattered Bear's waveform momentarily. He reformed as his human self and Merlin did too.
Then a silver wire shot out of Merlin's sleeve. It split into a dozen wires a few feet from Bear who was trying frantically to dodge them. One wire cut into Bear's thigh and a chunk of flesh went flying away. Then another wire hit, and more flesh flew. Almost immediately, Bear was sliced into a hundred pieces that flew away in every direction. The whole arena roared.
Merlin stood, breathing heavily, as the priests entered the circle.
"Trisp," Despil shouted at me over the tumult. "Well-done." I nodded as if I knew what he meant and ignored him.
In the Sawall box, everyone was standing. Dara had stepped out and looked like she wanted to run down to the field. The two most serpent-like priests shuffled up to Merlin. He seemed unsure of himself, watching them. Then they reached toward him and he let them. The priests ripped his clothing off his body and tore a metal brace from his forearm. The crowd gasped. Dara started running down toward the field.
But the two priests were quicker. They lifted Merlin's naked body over their heads and rapidly whisked him toward the edge of the field and the nearest part of the Abyss. When they were about fifty feet away from the nothingness, they stopped and flung Merlin toward it. It didn't look like they flung him hard enough to reach it.
Dara screamed and sprinted down the steps to the field. A crowd of priests tried to restrain her.
Then my mind began playing tricks on me. Time slowed almost to a stop. I could hear my heart beating, and the shouts of the crowd blurred into complete unintelligibility. The smell of sweat and hot animals filled the air.
The horizon of the Abyss rose. It bent. Merlin hung in space, arms thrown back. The horizon bent and twisted. A shape rose and all of my hair stood on end. Scales, a snout the size of the entire amphitheater, a long, black rope of a tongue, forked: The Great Serpent. The world curved in on itself as if I were looking through a fisheye lens. The Serpent-head split, and a mouth wide enough to swallow the universe gaped open. Dark, cold wind rushed past, making my eyes water. Saliva flowed off the tongue onto the field. Where it fell the ground burned. A shimmering line of gray power shot out of the monster's throat and impaled Merlin in mid-air. A blinding bolt of white-hot energy blasted away from him.
Dara screamed. Time began again. The insect buzz threatened to make my head explode. I gritted my teeth and forced my eyes to stay open. The priests all abased themselves. Then the line of power retracted and Merlin was pulled into the Serpent's maw.
Dara had reached the field. She began to run across it toward the great creature. A priest rose to his knees and hissed at her. She gestured angrily at him and he burst into flame, then crumbled into black ash.
The Serpent Head lowered to the edge of the field. It shimmered and disappeared and the world became more normal. Straight lines were once again straight. My heartbeat rapidly, but within normal limits. Merlin was standing at the edge of the Abyss wearily, staggering a bit. A heavy gold chain with an enormous red gem hung around his neck. Dara reached him and held him up.
The throngs of people roared. Mandor shoved his way down to the field. Dara was helping Merlin walk back toward the center. Two priests approached but Dara glared them away. One of the Council members presented Merlin with a Heavy black robe with a gray fur mantle. He shrugged into it, then stopped and raised his chin. He stared out at the audience, his eyes burning proudly.
I began pushing my way through the crowd, down to the field to meet the new king.
* * *
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