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Shortly after Vere's return to Amber, Lucas' lugubrious manservant Gaston delivers an invitation to a Children's Concert, to be held very shortly in one of the larger music rooms.
On the reverse is a note written in Lucas' decisve had (in his usual thick black ink):
"You may be interested (as per. in your note left upon your departure), that G - who I believe is a mutual point of contact - has indicated to me the values of thrift. I may be at your charge in this.
Perhaps we might meet to discuss this further? At your convenience.
L."
Vere reads the invitation and smiles, then reads the note on the reverse and tilts his head to one side. He looks at Gaston. "Lord Lucas is quite recovered from his injuries?" he inquires, waiting for a reply before continuing.
"Quite recovered as to spirits, Sir," replies Gaston judiciously. "And in physical terms, with the exception of the Unfortunate Aberrarion regarding his scaphoid fossa and helix, I have never known M'signeur to be in better form.
"It is Madame's health that has given rise for some concern recently."
If asked, he informs Vere about Solace's fainting attacks.
"I would be pleased to meet with him. At my convenience would be..." he pauses, considering, then continues, "In one half watch from now. If his lordship is available, of course. I will not be leaving the castle between then and now. If I do not hear differently I will be at his quarters at that time, if he is unavailable at that time or prefers another location please so inform me. Thank you." And he nods his head to Gaston, waiting to see if he has anything else to say before dismissing him.
Gaston bows gravely and withdraws.
Vere receives no contradictory message, so he can assume the time is acceptable to Lucas.
As he approaches Lucas' quarters, he will be able to hear them well before he sees them. Hope had nearly mastered the opening of Mozart's Horn Concerto, and is taking the opportunity to practice. Phillippe is attempting to mark time with a mornful drum beat. It appears that he is obeying the traditional invocation to beat the drum slowly, even if Hope is not playing the fife (or rather the bugle) lowly.
Fortunately, Lucas' rooms appear remarkably well sound-proofed on the inside.
Vere smiles at the sounds of eager students studying their art, and knocks upon the door, loudly enough to be heard over bugle and drum. Once the door is open he nods and requests that Lord Lucas be told he is present.
Gaston answers the door, and shows him through to Lucas' study, announcing "Lord Vere, M'signeur" with all the gloom that one might apply to the arrival of a plague victim. Lucas, however, is all affability as he rises from his desk. He is wearing the trousers and waistcoat of a light tweed suit in a rather attractive pale coffee-coloured weave over a wing collared shirt; the jacket has been carefully placed aside. The slightly full sleeves of his shirt have been drawn up by arm bands [I hope some of the costume experts know the proper name for them] to alleviate the danger of getting ink on his cuffs.
"Welcome home, cos!" he says warmly. "Although I can scarcely be the first to wish that. Will you take tea? Coffee? Some wine?"
"Tea would be very welcome," Vere replies with a smile. "A small amount of honey, no cream."
Whatever Vere expresses a desire for, Lucas will nod to Gaston to fetch (with slightly raised eyebrows if Vere decides on something along the lines of the first pressing of the Gallian sea cucumber, blended with the milk of a virgin hippogriff).
"Your mission to Rebma proved successful, I trust?" Lucas asks, when Gaston leaves them. "The physical proof of it, of course, is encamped at our doors, I believe. Will you be arranging an inspection of the troops to delight the ladies, and to give the rabble a chance to wave enthusiastic flags?"
He speaks lightly, but then adds, "People's memories of armies at the fringes of Amber are not exactly happy ones, cos. Some sort of jamboree, even a small one, with military brass bands - or whatever instruments the Rebmans play - or I suppose we could drum up one of our own Army bands - well, that would soothe the more nervous spirits within the city. And a ceremony like that might hearten your own men before they depart.
"Especially if they do depart at the end of it."
Vere nods. "An excellent point. I do not think the lads will cause any problems in Amber, certainly far fewer than those caused by the returning men of Amber. I was also hoping that we can arrange for the officers, all men of excellent families, to dine at the castle. I shall be hosting them at the Naval, as well."
If Lucas has reasons of his own for not welcoming a large army of Rebmans on the edge of the city at this particular juncture, it does not show in his demeanour. Perhaps he derives a certain amount of perverse enjoyment at the irony of the situation.
"I fear," he says with regret, "that the delicacy of my wife's health will preclude our hosting any formal dinner parties in the near future. Otherwise, I would be delighted to offer my one small moiety to the general gaiety. Perhaps a compromise might be to have the children learn a Rebman folksong for their concert. It should please the Queen too.
"And should you wish, I am sure we can arrange an evening at the Red Mill for those among your officers who might appreciate its more ... ah ... arcane delights.
"Do you have a standard, by the way? It occurs to me that it is something the common people might enjoy displaying as a sign of support ... fraternity, and all that. And we could ensure that the street urchins were supplied with those little flags to flap vigorously when your soldiers passed by. Always a delightful sight - especially if you encouraged the judicious scattering of sweetmeats."
"I have been thinking on this," Vere answers. "The men have shown an interest in birds since they have arrived on the surface. The entire idea of flight fascinates them, so like and yet unlike swimming. It had crossed my mind that a swan might make a fitting image for our band."
He smiles, as if at a private jest.
Once Gaston has returned and served whatever Vere wishes (Lucas has gone for a pot of Assam tea, incidentally), Lucas says, "As you have presumably guessed, I have a particular reason for wishing to see you.
"In the missive you left before you departed, you asked me to undertake three tasks. Dame Aisling and Martin - well, events rather overtook me there, as no doubt you have heard."
Vere allows a small frown to cross his face, and nods his understanding.
"Harga'rel ... the investigation has moved forward a little - but I have been reluctant to tread on other, doubtless more able toes."
Vere sips his tea and does not allow any expression to show on his face.
"But the estate of the late Lord Hardwind ... I have busied myself there a little. I believe I have an answer ... and a solution. And they are not the same thing at all."
"A pity, but that is too often the case. I would be grateful to hear both."
Lucas smiles. "Mais certainment, cos. I must tell you, however, that I am by no means certain I have arrived at the full elucidation of the mysteries I have been presented with. Indeed, I am hoping that you yourself might be able to throw some light on these.
"Between us, perhaps, we shall reach a fuller understanding. More tea?"
"Thank you." Vere allows his teacup to be filled once more, and silently breathes in the fragrance of the tea with obvious pleasure. He waits for Lucas to speak.
"My investigations of the Hardwind accounts - oh, not surreptious, I assure you! Aunt Felicity solicited my aid herself. At all events, they led me to a most unexpected area ... the Temple Quarter." Lucas sips delicately. "I believe you preceded me there, by several years. Perhaps on a similar errand?"
Vere raises an eyebrow. "Certainly not on anything connected with the Hardwinds. At least not in any way that I was aware of. My only ventures into the temple district involved the Paresh, their prophecy concerning the end of the world and the destruction of Amber, and a later mission with Princess Fiona to consider whether the site should be sold by the crown to the embassy of Gateway, who offered a high price for it."
"Do you know what led her to decide against it?" Lucas asked, interested.
"Only so far as I know the arguments that I presented against it. While I have little knowledge and less skill in such matters, it appears to me to still be at least potentially mystically active. And, of course, the tunnels underneath it appear to connect with those underneath Kolvir. Both of these might be reasons why Gateway would wish to have it, and both seem to me to be reasons not to allow it to leave royal control."
Lucas nods, thoughtfully. He makes no comment on Vere's level or lack of skill at this time.
"Then at the time of your investigations, you were unaware of any connection between the House of Hardwind and the Paresh?" he asks.
Vere blinks and remains silent for a moment, considering this statement. "I remain unaware of any such connection," he says finally. "I came across no information at the time to lead me to believe that the Paresh had any connection with any of the noble or mercantile families. I confess that I was not looking for such a link. Looking back at everything I learned, I remain unaware of anything that would indicate any connection."
"I wondered if it was that which had caused you to investigate the Paresh in the first place," says Lucas. "I believe I was out of Amber at the time of their exodus ... From what you say, they took no-one of good family with them? Nor was there any suspicion that nobles were involved?
"You see ... my investigations have led me to suspect that there may have been forces moving behind the scenes here."
"Indeed? No, I saw none of this in my brief investigation, and there was nothing to indicate that any current members were of families of such import." Vere pauses, considering. "When Fiona and I went there we saw the footprint of a woman's boot in the basement, near the mound of ash. It had not been there when Jerod and I were there earlier, the day the Paresh left the city. I thought it might have been one of the women from Gateway who left it, but that was merely a guess. But it does show that someone else took an interest in the building." He pauses again, and lets his eyes drift to somewhere past Lucas' left shoulder.
"Would it add to the confusion to say that there are indications that, in the very distant past, this building, or rather whatever building was upon the same spot at that time, was the temple of priests who served Pastoral, wife of Prince Osric?"
"It would add," says Lucas. "More tea?
"But that's not to say that it isn't interesting in itself. Reid's mother, wasn't she? Do you think that the cult organised by Pastoral had any bearing on the later manifestation of the Paresh - or did your investigations not lead you so far?"
"I suspect there might be a relationship, but that is based more on supposition than anything else. There is a vague statement that these priests, not _exactly_human I might add, although close, came from a city whose name begins with the syllable 'Par.' Suggestive. Of many things."
"Well, yes," says the erstwhile denizen of Paris, and son of the new chatelaine of the new Paris. "Quite."
He sighs. "As you can see, this entanglement offers an understanding of the Hardwind situation - but no solution. Although I hope I might contrive ..."
Vere raises an inquisitive eyebrow, but allows the ellipse to stand without question for the moment.
"I'm impressed you discovered those tunnels in the course of a brief investigation. When I was there myself, it seemed to me that they must have been rather well concealed. Or did you have prior knowledge of their existence?"
"I has evidence from my earlier visit with the Paresh, when I was a dinner guest and apparently a potential recruit, that there was a secret passageway behind the wall on the first floor. Once we had found that and gone down into the underground chamber it seemed reasonable to search for other such secret doorways." Vere takes another sip of tea. "Did you enter the tunnels? Jerod and I heard things moving around in some of the passageways while we were investigating them, and we know that many years ago one of the Paresh died fighting a monster in those tunnels."
"I didn't," says Lucas. "I must admit I missed the passageway on the first floor - such a shame. But the attics proved intriguing, didn't you find?"
Only the faintest sibilant stresses the plural.
Vere laughs. "I missed something, I take it?" he asks with a rueful grin. "Was there anything of interest in the other attic? Or were there more than two in total?"
"A trunk of old religious tracts," said Lucas, gloomily. They did go in for a rather apocalyptic belief system, didn't they? One wonders what attracted apparently upright members of the nobility to them.
"Unless, of course, they were being blackmailed."
"Is there any evidence of such blackmail? Their leader was a very charismatic man, and had the added benefit of deeply believing everything that he said. I am of the opinion that he did have true visions, but he interpreted them through the lens of his own belief. From my discussion with him I would say that he interpreted everything through that same lens, if it did not fit with what he believed he simply perceived it in a way that made it fit. And they were right about the destruction of Amber, after all." Vere gestures around him with his right hand. "This is not the same place that it was before the Sundering. And it appears that it never again will be."
Lucas nods thoughtfully. "When did you aspire ... no, when did you appear to aspire to become a cultist?" he asks with interest. ""What led you to the idea?"
He looks at Vere with a rare touch of earnestness. "You see ... if it wasn't blackmail, there must be another reason why Lord Hardwind would give so large a proportion of his wealth to the Paresh."
"A secret member of the sect, or at least a sympathizer," Vere muses. "Or else he has a relative or close associate who is or was a member. There is also the fact that they were able to come up with sufficient funds to purchase a ship and provisions, and to pay their pilgrimage tax. That latter was a not inconsiderable sum, a sack of gold coins. We did not look into the source of the money at the time."
Lucas looks thoughtful "Do you know where those accounts might be? It could be interesting to marry them with the Hardwind books and see how far the two tally."
"I handed the gold and the list of names of all members of the Paresh who were leaving over to Paige." Vere frowns and tilts his head to one side. "I recall thinking at the time that they had obviously consulted with a legal expert, their actions were within the Episcopacy Laws, but only just. And considering the complexity of those laws it would take an expert to skirt them so closely."
"Paige takes her legalistic duties seriously enough to have preserved all written documents," says Lucas. "I think I'll have a word."
"As for my potential membership, that is an interesting story. The way I originally thought it had happened was that when I came to interview the Paresh I made a few statements which led Elder Germaine to believe that I was not merely perceptive, but actually had visions of the spirits similar to his. This led him to think that I might be a fledgling prophet, and he asked me to stay to dinner with them so that they might answer my questions. I was interested in their beliefs, of course, and happy to do so. It all seemed very straightforward at the time. And yet, later, I came across information leading me to believe that when he was quite young Germaine had a vision in which he saw my likeness. Surely this would have made such an impression on him that he would have recognized me when he saw me these many years later." Vere shrugs slightly. "Or, of course, it may be that a Lord of Amber in the flesh, so long after the vision of his childhood, would not be immediately associated with what he thought to be a spirit visitation."
"Indeed," agrees Lucas. "Although it is interesting that one so seemingly perceptive as this Elder should have come to such a conclusion, don't you think? After all, he must have been used to seeing Lords of Amber even if they do, by and large, stay out of the Temple Quarter.
"Might I ask what was the information that led you to this belief? I think, you see, that I might be able to confirm it."
"If you were in the attic you may have seen a drawing made by young Germaine." Vere smiles. "Perhaps I should have removed it, to spare later visitors from unpleasant worries. But I dislike disturbing things when I am unsure of the situation. In addition to the evidence of that portrait, Jerod and I experienced an odd phenomenon in the caverns beneath their temple. During this, I saw Germaine as a child, and he spoke to me. I believe that after this he drew my portrait, thinking I was a spirit giving him advice."
Lucas gets up and walks to his desk. With a long key from his pocket, he unlocks a drawer and takes out a slim but rather elderly volume. He locks the drawer again and walks back to hand the book to Vere.
"This one?" he asks.
The book is called The Witnessing of Thrift - and seems to have been printed outside of Amber. It has a date in the front cover (and a name, as well). It looks to be over 50 years old.
Lucas opens it to the inside back cover, where there appears to be a drawing of Vere, or perhaps someone who just looks very like him, wearing a stone around his neck.
"What was the stone?" Lucas asks coversationally.
Vere slips his hand into his pouch and pulls out a smooth polished stone on a leather cord. "Elder Germaine gave me this on the dock the day the Paresh sailed away," he says. "Fiona says there are no enchantments upon it, at least none she could detect with a casual investigation."
"I didn't know Fiona did casual," says Lucas. "I'd have thought that would be on a par with telling my mother to wear her scruffiest old things and come to a pot luck dinner.
"May I?"
If Vere permits, he'll take the stone to assess its aesthetic qualities.
Vere hands it to him, then lifts his teacup to take another slow sip.
"And so you were wearing it when you visited the Paresh," muses Lucas. "So the child Germaine saw it around your neck, and so gave it to you as an old man so that you would be wearing it when he saw you earlier ... don't you just love time paradoxes? Fortunate it goes with anything in the tones - it could have ripped apart the whole space time continuum if you'd decided it really didn't go with your jacket that particular day."
Vere smiles pleasantly.
Then he says, "Vere ... do you believe that ship was sunk? I think it unlikely ... although I'd like to know what really happened to the Amber vessel which followed."
"As would I," says Vere. "I mislike sending men to their deaths with no knowledge of what became of them. The captain was told to follow at a distance, not letting them know they were being followed if at all possible. He could have faced no military danger from them. Magic? Possible, though I had seen little to make me think they were following such a path. Still, their temple was built upon foundations where magic had been practiced... what was it Fiona said? Ah, yes, 'The place reeks of magic, inexpertly performed layer upon layer for centuries.' So it cannot be said to be impossible that they destroyed the ship. Still, death and disaster can overtake one in so many ways upon the seas."
"Ah," says Lucas. "This rough magic ... but perhaps they didn't abjure it. Perhaps they used it ... "
He is silent for a moment, considering. "Do you know what route they took? Have any followed it up since?"
"They went northwards, following the coast. While they were not incompetent sailors, my impression was that they were not preparing to travel far out to sea. When the naval vessel did not return after seven weeks I sent a small, fast craft to scout along the coast, looking for any signs of a settlement or wreckage. They found nothing save signs of a wreck far to the north, almost six weeks travel. It was an old wreck, though, and either they sailed back through time, Amber skipped forward in time far faster than they, or else it was an unrelated wreck." Vere's voice gives no indication of which theory he prefers.
"It was around this time that it became obvious that the trade mission led by Jerod and my sister was overdue in returning, and other concerns took precedence. I allowed the matter to drop, and never had a chance to undertake any further investigations."
"Perhaps now is the time," says Lucas. "Oh ... that's not a suggestion to you, my dear cos! I am fully aware that you have pressing matters of your own. But it's a while since I've stretched my wings ... Or commissioned others to stretch them for me.
"If I undertook this, what would you suggest I looked out for?"
"First, try to discover the identity of the lawyer who advised them. I have a suspicion there may be a link there back to Lord Hardwind. For some reason the name Octave occurs to me, but that may well be simple wishful thinking. You might also look into the splinter group of the Paresh that Oberon had suppressed." Vere taps the book. "As I recall, their head priest was named Thrift, and Oberon had him hanged. There is clearly more of a story there. If you can find any information on the founder of the Paresh, a man named Elder Scale, that might also be useful. As I recall Scale lived until shortly after Eric's coronation. Or, more precisely, I was told that the news of his death reached Amber shortly after Eric's coronation. It is possible he died considerably before, or, of course, that the report of his death is a fiction. There was some information that possibly linked him with a sailor named Solvent, who lived somewhat over 500 years ago."
Vere thinks for a few seconds before continuing. "Before the Sundering the Paresh were accustomed to travel to their sacred island, the same island where Scale supposedly had his visions after having been washed overboard from one of Amber's naval vessels. They travelled to this island via a land called Asir. Finding information on this land, speaking to anyone who might have travelled there, might be useful. Supposedly other members of their order dwelt in Asir. Their sacred island appears to have had a time differential of several months to a week in Amber, which they of course considered miraculous."
"Those are the threads I would suggest tugging upon to begin with. If any of them lead anywhere, then I suspect other avenues will open up. Check with Paige, of course, regarding the money and paperwork turned in by the Paresh."
Vere turns a palm up and give a small shrug. "Nothing else suggests itself at this time."
Lucas smiles.
"You've been as thorough as ever," he says, "for which I thank you.
"The people I can check out. The land ... I suspect both the island and Asir will have changed since the Sundering. But it may be that the Paresh found a way through - a way through that drew the Amberite ship.
"And it may be that the age old peasant's response to directions might apply - 'To get there, I wouldn't start from here.' Now that we have Xanau as a starting point, it might be more fruitful to start exploring from there, rather than from here. And you are right - anyone who might once have travelled to the isalnd would be extremely valuable. Although I don't see them as being particularly willing to claim their former association." He pauses, considering, and then smiles. "But your information has, as ever, been extremely helpful. Thank you, cos.
"Now ... shall we have another cup of tea?
"And tell me, how go your plans for your mother's lands?"
"They go well, and speedily. If I have my way, we shall be leaving by Starday morn." Vere settles back in the chair, content to let the conversation turn to generalities concerning his men and their provisioning.
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XXXI: The Best Laid Plans | Index | XXXIII: The Children's Concert
