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Brita would love to attend the children's concert. She sends a late RSVP saying:
"Proud Parents Lucas and Solace and Talents Hope and Phillip, I am sorry for the late response, but I would love to attend your concert if I am still welcome.
Sincerely,
Brita"
It is Starday, shortly before None.
The doors of the Lower Music Room stand open to receive the invited guests. To the one side stands the lugubrious Gaston, readuy to act as usher and guide people to their seats.
Within, the room has been transformed. Two thirds of the way down, a pair of deep blue velvet curtains have been hung, decorated with occasional golden stars and a rather wobbly unicorn - Hope's taste in the positioning is impeccable, but her motor skills in cutting out need a little further development. Great banks of flowers have been arranged at the front of the stage area, and in the window alcoves - Solace's delicate hand is notable in this.
Behind the curtain, all is chaos and confusion. Hope sits meekly in the chair where she has been told to wait, with Philip, Leif and Brooke seated on a rug beside her, under the firm gaze of Nanny Starch. But she has no jurisdiction over the young hooligans of pages that Pert has rounded up who seemed to be everywhere at once in a state of suppressed excitement while Crotchet, the much harassed music master, attempts to keep order.
Not far behind Nanny Starch stands Nurse Winter whose gaze seems to be watching the other performers and chaos as much as she does the twins.
There are a group of shy and somewhat over-awed orphans from Garnath who will be singing several folksongs, the youngest of whom has attached herself to Hope and watches her almost worshipfully. Hope, in response, is solemnly friendly.
The rest of the orphans sit quietly, whispering among themselves, while the pages dash silently about and, much to the dismay of Crotchet, endeavour to peep between the curtain and ascertain the size of the audience.
The other side of the curtain, all is calm and tranquil. In the front row, three comfortable armchairs have been arranged - the first two slightly forward of the third - one and two being intended for Vialle and Flora, while the third is for Harmony Vesper. Beside these is a chaise longue and here reposes Solace, dressed in a soft pale blue silk gown, with a brilliantly coloured shawl draped over her legs. At the head of this is a small pouffe, decorated in damask. Before the guests arrive, Lucas is sitting here, talking to Solace quietly. He is wearing a costume that might have been favoured by a denizen of late fifteenth century Florence, severe enough in its tailoring to have gladdened the heart of Savanarola, but sumptuous enough in its decoration and jewelled adornments to have drawn the praise (and perhaps the envy) of the Medici.
Of course, this entails wearing hose. But then, Lucas has legs that look good in hose.
Behind the front row for distinguished guests, several rows of comfortable armchairs and sofas have been arranged in a loose semi-circle, cunningly arranged so that everyone has an excellent view of the stage. At the back of the room there is a small bar serving light refreshments and some alcohol in the form of some rather fine wine. This is manned by Lucas's chef and foodtaster, Gouter, his slightly jaundiced complexion speaking volumes as to an unfortunate episode in Shadow long ago.
Paige emerges from behind the side curtain, flanked by a servant of obvious duties. Since her return from Altamar, when about in the City, she was regularly seen with a bodyguard, whether the Ranger or today's escort, Mace. In the space of ten steps to Paige's seat in the second row, nearest Solace, he had pulled at the uncharacteristic starched collar of his shirt, twice already.
Paige greets both her cousin and his wife with gentle kisses on both cheeks. "I suppose one can't be as fashionably late when they're forced to deliver the performers," she jokes.
Solace returns the kisses - Lucas rises and bows formally as he kisses Paige's hand with something of a flourish. After all, he's dressed for it.
"If one is early," he says complacently, "then, within a week, it will be all the rage throughout Amber to be early at social gatherings ... and will cause all sorts of headaches for poor hostesses, for half her guests will insist on arriving when she's taking her hair out of curlers and pulling her second stocking on."
As Paige and Lucas speak, the other guests begin to arrive: various notables from the city and Garnath whom Lucas has invited.
Merlin is among the first, with a warm greeting for Paige and a pleasant one for Lucas and Solace. He is particularly solicitous of Solace, and draws Lucas aside to offer to examine her again, if such is advisable--or to examine Lucas' quarters for any sorcerous agency of which Solace's collapse might be a side effect.
"Thank you," says Lucas, with real gratitude. "I'm not sure whether - at the moment - I want to subject Solace to the rigours of a second examination. But an examination of my rooms at this time will certainly not come amiss."
Also arriving early is Lady Vesper, who stays at the side of her dear chick, and tells everyone who approaches about her concern for her dear daughter's health. And indeed, she has been around altogether too much to suit Lucas, not to mention the rest of the family, of late.
Lucas greets her with unfailing politeness.
"I have a treat for you, belle mere," he tells her. "I am in hopes that your special friend Lord Vere is coming. And you'll be able to have a lovely chat after the concert is over. I'm sure there'll be so much for the two of you to catch up on."
Vialle and Gerard arrive together, and make pleasant social chatter with everyone before she is escorted to her seat. Gerard will be at one side in his wheelchair, which will give him a less desirable view but will keep him from blocking anyone else.
Lucas, the perfect host, has made sure that this is close to Solace - and also that Gerard is supplied with a beaker of his favourite grog, mixed just the way he likes it. He also spends a few minutes talking quietly with Vialle, making sure she is comfortable, and give him brief (and amusing) comments on the feast of entertainment that lies before her.
Florimel is fashionably on-time. She is dressed in green, as always, and somehow strikes the perfect note of formality for the occasion, regardless of the fashions the others are wearing. A quick greeting and kiss for Solace (and a polite but much less warm greeting to Lady Vesper) later, and she is beside the Queen, cheering her a little by whatever news she has.
Their arrivals are mingled among the crowd of other invitees, each of whom also offers a respectful greeting to Lucas and Solace and a purse for the orphans.
Lucas has a word and a smile for them all - often a little joke. This is Lucas being the charming family man; any more caustic remarks are reserved to be shared with certain members of the family.
Hannah comes in only about five minutes early. She has braided her hair and looped it into a low bun. Instead of the blacks and browns she has been wearing, today she's in a blue blouse that brings out the color in her eyes, with a long black skirt.
Hannah greets those she knows and is happy to be introduced to those she doesn't. Hannah even has an approving smile for Lucas, and high praise for Solace and her work on this project.
Paige greets her new cousin warmly, with a kiss on the cheek if Hannah doesn't seem to mind. If she does, Paige will demur.
Hannah will allow, and kiss back.
Hannah does ask Lucas, "Will we get a chance to meet all the children later? I'd like to, anyway."
"Certainly," says Lucas. "The royals, the pages and the orphans, if you wish. I'm sure they will all appreciate compliments. It's a common failing."
"I'm sure you'll have a chance to see the twins if you're staying about the castle, in fact..." Paige considers for a moment. "Perhaps you might find some time this weekend to look over the children for me. Midwifery is one thing, but where my children are concerned, I'd love a second opinion.
"Sorry, too cliche, isn't it? Being asked by people you've just met at an event to diagnose people and maladies you've never seen," she chuckles.
Hannah laughs. "Not at all, makes me feel right at home. Twins, eh? Lucky momma."
A few minutes after Hannah arrives Vere walks in, followed by four Rebmans. Vere's eyes flick over the room, identifying everyone and analyzing social currents instinctively, before leading his me to the Queen and Solace. He bows. "Your Majesty, Lady St. Just, may I be allowed to present my tanist, Castor, and three of my captains, Aurelius, Numitor, and Octavius?"
Brennan sweeps in a few minutes before the appointed play time, and if he's at all discomfitted attending a children's musical, it shows only when he catches Lucas' glance and waggles an eyebrow. He scans the room thoroughly and efficiently, settling on Vere and his aquatic entourage. Even if he hadn't already had reason to speak with Vere, the entourage would evoke enough of his curiosity to bring Brennan along.
After making his greetings to the Queen and Solace as well, Brennan greets Vere with an offered handshake, and a quiet, "Vere, I understand congratulations are in order!"
Vere accepts the handshake and smiles in answer to the the congratulations. "Your Majesty, Lady St. Just," he says. "By your leave."
He leaves the Rebmans to continue speaking with the Queen, if she so desires, or to mingle, if she dismisses them, and walks a short ways off with Brennan, finding a wall where the two of them can converse while maintaining a good view of the rest of the room.
Whatever had been the expectation about the Concert, it was, in the event, surprisingly painless, and those cousins who had turned up were treated to an event which was not only mercifully brief, but also surprisingly well performed.
There were several ensemble pieces with Hope solemnly playing her bugle, while Leif and Brooke played maracas and tamboutrine, and Philippe solemnly banged his drums. But Hope also recited some short poems while one of the pages played a beautful melody on a flute - a combination that was charming. The Pages' chorus was also successful - Pert had rounded up those of his cronies who could sing really well; they had a sea shanty for Gerard and a Rebman lullaby among their medley - and some old French songs that clearly held a special meaning for Flora.
The orphans of Garnath sang some of their own folksongs, but they also had a small band that played accompaniments and - after a final ensemble piece which brought everyone on stage, Hope walked forward and said solemnly:
"We shall now have dancing, until it grows dark, when there will be a special treat for us all on the Castle roof." She considered this for a moment, and then added, "At least, Papa says we must go onto the roof terrace for our special treat. After the dancing."
Lucas, who had been sitting on the stool beside Solace throughout the performance, now spoke to her quietly, and then wheeled the seat to one side, so that she could continue to recline there and watch the dancing. While Nanny Starch took care of Philippe, Hope advanced on Gerard, curtseyed and said, "Please may we dance together? If I swing your hands very gently?"
Gerard says, "I'm afraid I'm not much of a dancer these days, lass. But if you'll come sit on my lap, I'll consider myself luckier than any young swain on the floor." He leans forward and reaches down. Hope obediently lets him settle her across the blanket on his legs.
Once she's secure, Gerard wheels himself over to Solace's side.
Lucas watched this with a faint smile, and then moved towards his mother. It was not the conga line he had threatened to make her lead in conversation with Paige, but a light waltz tune played by the Garnathians.
"Maman," he said, "will you do me the honour of opening the ball?"
"Of course," Flora replies, and lets him lead her onto the floor.
"You know, Maman," Lucas said presently, "I shall miss the opportunity to dance with you once you are resident in Paris. You do dance divinely - almost as well as I do myself. You have the skill of making the most elaborate of steps look as easy and entirely natural as a step through to the garden on a summer's day ..."
"Why, thank you, Lucas," she says, smiling, aware of the supreme compliment Lucas is paying by comparing her to his august self.
"The children will miss you too. I'm aware you'll be escaping some of their most tiresome phases, but their affection for you is very deep. Hope particularly - but then she has attained more sensible years."
"Well, of course all of you must come and visit me. Perhaps the airs of Paris will do dear Solace some good. And I do adore the children. Hope is quite the little lady ... she takes after her parents. And fortunately, Solace doesn't take after hers." Flora's smile turns a bit wicked.
Lucas laughs. "I am hoping to prove my old friend Oscar wrong - do you remember him? You might have been resident in New York that decade, I seem to recall. He once said ... well, actually he said it several times - and in print too: 'All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That's his.' "
Flora nods. Of course she remembers dear Oscar.
As the dance permits, he bows slightly to kiss his mother's hand - his dark eyes sparkling. "If Solace can avoid becoming like her mother, while I continue to emulate mine in the ways that truly matter, we shall do very well, I think."
He allows a few more turns of the dance to pass before he speaks again.
"And of course we'll be delighted to visit you. I suspect the King might use the fact that we will wish to do so as a conduit - perhaps both kings. And you know how I adore travelling. It's a taste I wish the children to acquire as well.
"I'm also considering whether to establish my main residence in the new palace at Xanadu. It might be an idea to keep a small suite of rooms there, and make our main residence elsewhere." He shrugs. "It is surprising the amount of room two small children and the necessary servants can occupy. People have already been muttering about my final territorial demands upon the castle here ...
"I thought perhaps a small chateau on the outskirts of town, where there will be open spaces for the children. What do you think?"
"Random has never had any idea of the arrangements it takes to live in a civilized fashion. Dear Vialle has had quite the task in making the castle work around him, and I'm sure he doesn't appreciate her for all she does," Flora opines. "An independent establishment would make your life significantly easier."
Another turn. "And you, in Paris. Do you intend to go alone? I was hoping you might take someone with you ... someone who could be a companion to you, who knows you from Amber."
Perhaps he sees her expression, for he laughs again. "Oh, not my belle mere! I'm fully aware she's an imposition I inherit - unless I can persuade her that her interests are best served by remaining in Amber."
"I will wish you good luck with that. Perhaps you can convince her her best interests lie in Rebma, and we can speed her on her way." If Flora means by this 'we could dump her off a boat with lead weights attached to her ankles for a more direct trip', she does not say this.
Lucas' lizard smile shows his appreciation.
"All those deferential males would be to her taste, don't you think?" he says musingly. "Of course ... her presence might precipitate a revolt ..."
"But perhaps you have another candidate in mind, my darling boy."
"I do, actually," says Lucas. "An old friend of yours, I believe, who is in some difficulty - although it is not generally bruited about. Aunt Felicity ... you heard there have been problems with the Hardwind estate? I've been looking into it ... Opal Hardwind has been kicking about the books and so forth."
Flora's eyebrows come slightly together, and her perfect lips turn slightly downward, which is all the expression she needs to make of her opinion of that parvenue.
"Things are in a muddle - to put it mildly. What I have been able to establish is that Lord Hardwind became involved in some rather murky doings. Aunt Felicity, of course, has little or probably no notion of this. But it means that her means will be very much straitened. And I'm not sure that a bruisingly entrepreneurial centre of reality is going to be the best place for her to recover. Whereas Paris ... "
He is silent for a moment and then says softly, "I miss it still, Mama. Waking in the morning to hear the first trams clanking over the cobbles, the light on the river at night, the boulevards ... the waiters whistling as the last bar closes, the songs that Piaf sings ... silk stockings thrown aside on sin-vitations ... "
He smiles again, a little twisted this time, and then says, "I am serious in wishing you a companion from Amber. Someone who will be loyal to you, and who is not in Paris because she is Corwin's follower. If things go wrong - and yes, I know that is a very remote possibility - but we both know that it can, even in Paris. Especially in Paris." He turns his hand slightly so that the St Cyr signet he wears brushes against her fingers. "If things go wrong, I want someone with you that you and I can trust to put your interests first. And I believe Lady Hardwind will do that."
"Because Lady Hardwind is in straits," Flora says, as if she's considering the matter. "And because I need protection, or at least an insurance policy." She smiles. "And for what other reason, Lucas?"
The expression is mirrored on her son's face. "Because I love to tease," he says. "Just like you do, Maman. And sending you away to Paris with a conundrum in your purse is the best parting gift I could provide."
He bows his head and kisses her fingers.
"Ever your dutiful son, Maman," he tells her.
"Of course you are," she says with a fond smile.
Brita slipped into the room after the first number, timing her entrance during the polite clapping of the audience so as not to disturb the performer. She carries two small bags, one of which she will leave with Nanny Starch for Hope and Philippe. The other she will give to Cousin Paige at some break in the action. "For the children," she says. "As a thank you for such a wonderful new tradition."
The bag for Hope and Philippe contains a hand carved pony painted a midnight black with a white blaze star on the forehead. There is also a small carved wooden figure - female with blond tresses and a helm with wings - posed to sit astride the horse. There is also a cloth pony sewn together in a mottled patchwork of reddish browns. It has a black mane and tail.
For the twins, there is a small, soft hammer sewn out of cloth with intricate scroll work that looks like lightning bolts and a stuffed dog in the colors of the rainbow.
Brita will approach Lucas at some point later after the dancing has been going on a while. "Lord Lucas, I am sorry for my late entrance. I have no good excuse." She will also tender the same apology to Hope.
Hope receives the apology with careful attentuion, a slight, considering frown. And then she asks, "But did you hear us? Did you like it?"
"I loved it," Brita says sincerely. "It reminded me of the Great Parties my Grand Father used to host at the Grand Palace of Valhalla. The music and singing was wonderful and I loved your poetry."
If assured that Brita did, her face will lit up in a smile that is more reminescent of her mother than her father.
Lucas, however, receives the apologies with a wave of his hand and his own rather more world weary smile.
"No apologies are necessary, I assure you," he says. "I'm simply delighted you were able to find the time to attend so soon after your return. And, of course, to see your in such ... ah ... radiant condition."
His eyes alight on her hair, and the smile deepens a little. "I presume congratulations are in order ..."
A smile spreads across Brita's features in response. "Yes, thank you."
"Perhaps you would care for a dance?" he asks - and then in a lower voice he adds, "Not only will I enjoy the privilege of escorting you onto the floor, but you will also save me from having to dance with my delightful belle mere for the next fifiteen minutes ... "
Lucas more than likely remembers that Brita does not dance well. Dancing in Asgard tended to be on tables and rather rauctious. However, her face turns serious after the request and she says, "I would be honored to take up some of your time, Cousin." and she follows him to the floor. Her movements on the dance floor are a little stiff, but she does seem to enjoy the music and will participate in light banter with Lucas.
Lucas has selected one of the less formal dances - these are, after all, based on Garnathian folk tunes. It is a dance that involves skipping and swinging, clapping and merry boot stamping rather than intricate figures elaborately performed. No tossing, though - Lucas feels up to swinging Brita round, but not to tossing the beserker in the air - and he has a great aversion to being tossed himself.
[Brita skipping?? ] Brita follows along and clearly has fun although several looks she sends Lucas through the course of the dance seem to indicate a certain rueful laughter at the 6ft2in boehmoth in the midst of the swirl of dancers.
Lucas, of course, carries it off with aplomb. Tall ladies are going to be much in request at dances in the coming weeks, while small and dainty girls will be sulking by the walls.
After the dance is done, he leads her - if she wishes to go - to the refreshment table. "I must get some lemonade for Solace," he says. "You know that she has been ill?"
Brita follows Lucas to the table but demurs when offered refreshments. "Ill? How so? Is it serious? What can I do?" she asks, clearly concerned.
"Not serious, we hope," says Lucas. "She recovered from her first fainting spell with reasonable promptitude. This second ... I am insisting she rests thoroughly, but I anticipate that she will regain her usual strength within a week or so."
He pours a glass of lemonade carefully, and then offers to pour another for Brita - unless she wishes to quaff something stronger.
Brita shakes her head at the offer of any drink. "Second fainting spell? this has happened before?"
"Merlin checked her out for sorcery," he goes on, "and that yielded nothing. But the attacks were sudden, and accompanied with rather horrid migraine attacks.
"I hope to prevent a third," he adds grimly.
"Attacks? and she gets a Migraine with it? It sounds like what happened with my Da when I tried to contact him via a Trump Sketch. He was apparently incapacitated as with too much mead, but he recovered. Master Reid feels it is because he is too far removed from the Trunk of the Amber tree. He decends from Oberon through Prince Finndo - his great-grandfather, I believe, so four or five generations separated depending on how one counts it. Could someone have tried to contact Cousin Solace and do you know how far removed she is from Oberon?"
Lucas' dark eyebrows.
"The degree has never been determined," he says slowly. "Indeed, it is only recently that I have become convinced ...
"You think she might be remotely related? Rumour has suggested that her father might have been Eric ... I must admit that I would not have thought my belle mere, even in her youth ... "
An expression of something close to alarm crosses Lucas' aristocratic features. "Brita - do you believe Lady Vesper to be a descendant of Oberon?"
"Lady Vesper? No, she has no Scent of Amber, but Cousin Solace - yes, she is related. You didn't Know?"
"Brita," says Lucas, "you stand in grave danger of being kissed. In fact, if it were not for your prodigious abilities with the battle axe and the fact that it might give rise to unseemly comments, I might pick you up and swing you around with whoops of joy.
"I had come to suspect Solace's antecedents. My dread was that they came from her mother's side, and I would have Lady Vesper on my back for all eternity."
Brita gives Lucas a wry smile. "I am glad I could assist, Cousin Lucas. I can understand how certain family can make even the smallest time seem eternal."
As Lucas and Flora take to the dance floor, Solange slips in to pause behind Gerard's wheelchair, put both hands on his broad shoulders and lean over to give him a kiss on the cheek, then move around to the front of the chair.
"Sorry I'm late," she says to him in a low voice, contrite.
She formally greets Solace and the Queen, then turns her attention to Hope on Gerard's lap and smiles at the little girl. "You did a fine performance. It was quite a brave thing to do, to stand up in front of all of those people. Were you scared?"
Hope regards her seriously. "Not really," she says. "Papa 'splained that public adu - adulation is a toxicating drug, and I should get used to it early."
Solange smothers a laugh by pretending to scratch her nose. "He did, did he? Your papa is a very discerning man. How old are you now?"
"I'm four and a quarter," says Hope. "And you sent me a birthday gift. And I wrote you a thank you note. It had a picture of my birthday cake."
There is a definite touch of Flora here in the notion of strict adherence to social etiquette.
"Of course, now I remember," Solange replies, smiling gently. "You'll have to forgive me, I've been off in shadow and have been very busy and I lose track of how much time has passed back here while I've been gone. Are you going to go up and dance?"
"I am dancing," says Hope with dignity. "I'm dancing with mon oncle Gerard."
And then she beams at Solange, no longer the little lady, but a happy little girl.
Solange grins back. "Good for you. Don't let your Uncle Gerard say 'no'!" she exclaims, winking at her father.
"I, however, will be delighted to offer you a dance, cos," says a voice from behind her. Lucas.
Solange turns around. The corner of her mouth quirks up as she meets Lucas's eye and she curtsies deeply, her gold skirts brushing the floor. "Why, thank you, kind sir. I would be delighted." She holds a gloved hand out to him.
Her manner and words, although formal, do not come across stiff and staid. She seems to be enjoying the pomp and circumstance of the occasion, like a special role she's donned for the evening for the fun of it rather than one she must wear because it's expected of her.
Lucas gives her a grave, unsmiling bow, with all formality and elan of the Ancien Regime. But as he rises, his eyes are amused.
"So, cos, a formal waltz? Or shall we trip the light fantastic? And as we dance, you can tell me about your travels." He raises a hand towards his left ear, where it is covered by the cut of his hair, in a half involuntary gesture. "As doubtless you know, I have been rather tied to Amber for a while."
"A waltz would be lovely, thank you." She smiles and nods a farewell at Hope and Gerard, then accompanies Lucas. "I think Hope has grown an inch or two since I saw her last. Have things been quiet while I was away?"
"As ever in Amber," he replies with a shrug. "Of particular interest to me has been my own recovery and Solace's decline ... although I hope that may be arrested."
She raises an eyebrow, inviting more of an explanation. Apparently she hasn't heard.
"Solace," explains Lucas, "has recently had a couple of fainting spells that have left her with bad headaches. We've drawn a blank on the possibbilities of sorceries - but Brita has come up with an intriguing suggestion - that someone might have tried to contact her by trump. Apparently the symptoms are similar to those experienced by Brita's father when she tried to contact him.
"You've doubtless heard the court gossip - the arrival of new cousins. The Rebman is shy and gauche but has possibilities."
She doesn't know who "The Rebman" is either, but she'll find out. She doesn't let it show on her face.
"The doctor has all the virtues and faults of her position - skill in healing and overwheening arrogance. And yes, you might smile at that, cos. I daresay one might be looking at me for a long time before one was reminded of a violet by a mossy stone, half-hidden from the eye. However, I devoutly trust that no-one could describe me as vulgarly pushy."
Solange laughs. "Dear Lucas, I don't believe you were ever the unprepossessing violet. I imagine you came from your mother's womb ordering the driest champagne and finest cigars," she quips lightly.
"As I recall," says Lucas, "I was in paroxysms of rage at the appalling hat the midwife had chosen to wear. One did feel that she should have made more of an effort for such an auspicious occasion.
"On the other hand, our new cousin seems sincere in her desire to help your father - and that, I believe, must bring her into your favour.
A nod. "I have yet to meet her, but later. Right now I'm enjoying dancing, which I have not done for what seems such a long time."
"One would never have guessed," says Lucas with faint, ironical politeness.
"As for our other new cousin ... " He shoots her a glance alive with amused malicious humour. "I daresay Martin is knocking his young brother into shape in Xanadu."
Solange pauses mid-step to stare at Lucas for the space of a heartbeat or two, then regains her composure and continues the dance. "You got me," she admits with a slight smile while looking at him askance, "wicked cousin that you are. How is the Queen taking that news?"
"Not well, I fear," says Lucas, glancing to where Vialle sits (or dances). "She seems ... unwell. I trust that the air of Xanadu will revive here, if her road lies there."
It is well known that during the Interregnum Lucas had become close to the Queen.
"But that," says Lucas, "brings me to another matter. Have you spoken with your foster aunt since your return?"
Solange turns to look back at Lucas and narrows her eyes fractionally. "No, I haven't had the opportunity. Why?"
"She's here tonight," he says. "Had you heard about the problems with Lord Hardwind's estate?"
She thinks briefly. "Oh, yes, there were some problems with Aunt Felicity's account books, if I remember right. Is that what you're referring to?"
"I'm afraid so," says Lucas. "Not her own accounts per se, but the late Lord Hardwind's. He have become embroiled in some rather dubious affairs. This is probably not the time or place to speak of it, though. Perhaps we could meet later? Or rather," he adds, mindful of his engagement with Vere, "perhaps tomorrow? After breakfast?"
"That will be fine. I was going to help look over the books before I became distracted with Father's legs. I'm happy to help now while I'm back." Solange pauses. "And I'm rather curious to find out what you mean by 'dubious affairs.' "
Lucas smiles. "Yes," he agrees, "my reputation does suggest that affairs I find dubious must involve murky waters indeed. Well, cos, you will just have to contain your impatience until tomorrow ... "
"Indeed. 'Tis not a conducive environment, anyway."
The music ends and Solange nods to Lucas. "Thank you for the waltz. I quite enjoyed it," she smiles, "and now, as much as I loathe stopping to dance, I'll give you back over to your hosting duties. Where would you like to meet tomorrow morning?"
"Come to my rooms," says Lucas. "Solace gets up late at the moment, but the children will be delighted to see you. And you will probably be sparing me a blow by blow reminesence of this evening's entertainment delivered by my belle mere."
"Very good. I'll see you then."
As the dancing begin Vere smiles, and makes certain that he reaches Lady Vesper before anyone else. "I hope your Ladyship will do me the honour," he says, taking her hand and leading her into the dance, without giving her a chance to refuse. During the dance he engages in a running monologue on the wildlife he saw on his journey, and the various kinds of fish he observed in Rebma, and an interesting theory he has been developing regarding the importance of local wildlife to the form that a developing civilization takes.
When the dance ends he expresses his pleasure, telling her that this was almost as splendid a dance as the waltz they shared at the coronation, and then he gestures for Castor to come and dance with Lady Vesper.
Passing by his captains on his way to Lucas, he mutters, "See to it that that woman dances with each of you in turn. Be charming, and do not allow her to return to her seat until the dancing has ended." He smiles and bows slightly in Solace's direction.
Hew then hovers near Lucas, not intruding but making it clear by his body language that he would like a chance to talk.
Lucas has watched Vere's manoeuvres with deep appreciation - he enjoys watching a master craftsman at work. When Vere joins him, he has just completed half a dance with Hope, and has returned her to Solace, so he turns to his cousin almost immediately, and draws him aside a little, smiling.
"You have briefed all your officers?" he says, amused. "Do you think that feeding her a well-nigh inexhaustible supply of deferential Rebman males will render her less impossible over the breakfast cups?"
"They are heading to war," Vere replies, deadpan. "I want to be certain they have the courage to face the horrors that lie ahead of them."
Lucas laughs. "You are with Brennan, then, in holding that the horrors of a Children's Concert attended by my belle mere are unparalleled in the annals of Amber? There are some whose nerve has broken entirely at the prospect, I believe."
He gestures to the display of refreshments. "Would you care for anything? I've avoided champagne fountains, as you can see. I wanted this to be a pleasant memory for Maman."
"Thank you," Vere replies, looking over the choices. "I did not bring anything for the orphans, I fear, but your actions in bringing their situation to our attention have started me thinking about their future. And whether it will be here, or in Xanadu."
"With the war in Arden, Xanadu might be a better option," says Lucas soberly. "I shall be going over there myself, soon. The King has spoken to me about the need to bring in people with the right sort of entrepreneurial spirit - if properly organised, young people for a young land might be a solution. It would need to be carefully organised, of course, to ensure that the children have a chance to develop innate talents and skills, and not merely ones that are convenient unto the day. I've never seen the point in 'mute, inglorious Miltons' myself. I have rather gone for the 'If you've got it, flaunt it' school of philosophy, as I am sure you will be unsurprised to learn."
He slides out his gold cigarette case, with the St Cyr crest, and flips it open, revealing the gold-tipped black cigarettes. He offers one to Vere before taking his own.
"Do you have another suggestion?" he asks.
"I was thinking of the importance of a good education to young people without family connections, and that led me to think of the importance of an organized system of higher education to a realm. I began to toy with the idea of establishing a comprehensive educational system, not tied to any particular noble or merchant house, nor to any particular faction. Orphans, it seems to me, might be an excellent core for the beginnings of this system, developing a loyalty to the institution, which hopefully can carry over to the children of the wealthy, who will in future days be clamoring to be admitted." Vere accepts a glass of wine from Gouter with a small nod of thanks. "I am imagining an institution that will serve the family and crown by producing experts in a thousand fields, and that will grow and develop over the centuries. We can make a beginning now. Either as a way to help shape what Xanadu will become, or as a way to retain a place for Amber." His eyes look out past the walls of the room. "Amber, the University of All Reality...."
Lucas nods thoughtfully.
"I would suggest that agriculture should be one of the first faculties," he says. "And perhaps advanced woodworking offered as an extra." He pauses, considering. "Architecture," he says. "Textiles. A thorough grounding in practical skills. The potential to undertake more academic courses for the gifted. Performing arts too - although I daresay the King will insist on it." He shoots a pensive look at Vere. "How soon are you planning on coming to Xanadu yourself?"
"Alas, I have no idea. I do not know how long the problem in my mother's land will take. After that, I must see to it that any of the Rebmans who wish are returned to their home." Vere's eyes seek out Gerard in his wheeled chair. "And then, my focus must be on Father's legs. If he is still in Amber, I will be returning there. If he has moved to Xanadu, then that is where I will go. At least at first."
Lucas nods slowly. "It does seem rather a waste of talent - the sort of waste you yourself have deplored - to send off to war one of the few family members who actually has the wits to play a significant role in the development of our new centre of reality," he says with some acerbity. "We are, after all, well supplied with the sort of boneheads who think living and dying by the sword is a glorious thing - and who am I to deny them that privilege?
"On the other hand, I do understand the power of loyalty to one's family - to one's home Shadow. And the bitterness of having failed to help."
Something in Lucas' last words suggests that bitterness can be deep indeed.
Vere delicately refrains from probing at the obviously still open wound implied by Lucas' words, and instead returns to the subject of the university, "While I cannot be of any assistance in the initial stages of establishing the university, whether the final decision is to move the orphans to Xanadu to help encourage a quicker migration or to found the institution here in Amber to help the original city survive against the attractions of Paris and Xanadu, I thought we might be able to discuss some issues briefly. For instance, I do now know if Random is planning on retaining the services of Nestor as his librarian. If not, he would make an excellent head of the institution. And, I might point out, engaging the services of experts in a variety of fields is a way to ensure their continued availability to the family, and the crown, whenever their expertise might be needed."
"I agree," says Lucas, "and I shall do what I can to further your idea. With the King's permission to transfer those I see as useful to the future of Xanadu, of course, the task becomes very much easier. And Nestor ... yes, he would make an excellent head of the institution. In fact, he will doubtless do all the work, and I shall not have to sacrifice my hard-won reputation for habitual indolence."
"It would be a great shame to risk ruining such a well-established reputation," Vere agrees. "Is there anything I can do to aid this effort, keeping in mind that I am leaving early tomorrow and will be spending most of this night making final preparations?"
"Apart from drawing up the full prospectus?" counters Lucas. "No, I don't think so."
He smiles suddenly. "In fact, I think it is for me to offer you what aid I can this night, to see that all goes smoothly. Once this concert is completed, is there anything I can do to help you prepare?"
Vere laughs. "The main problem I worry about is making certain all the men are back from whatever pleasures they have found in the city. I've left that to the sergeants, and the men had strict orders to remain in groups and not become separated, but soldiers are soldiers. After the concert the captains I have brought with me and I are going on a sweep through the city to locate any missing men, while the captains back at camp continue preparations for departure. I terrorized a variety of suppliers in the city into 'finding' materials on short notice, by the way, and there might be minor repercussions of that working there way up the mountain. Nothing serious, I shouldn't think, just more complaints about how unreasonable royals can be. I did take your advice regarding an emblem, by the way. We are supposed to have a standard, a swan done in the Rebman artistic style, ready by this evening. If you could send someone to be certain that it is ready and delivered to us this night that will save me one task. There should be a smaller banner as well, a personal emblem."
He pauses, as though considering, and then says, "I had thought to ask my sister to handle this next task, but I confess to feeling somewhat odd about entrusting this particular mission to a female relative. I have a small token I wished to have passed on to Lady Robin if she returns to Amber. I wonder if I might ask you to hold onto it, in case she should come here before I return?"
"I would be honoured by your trust," says Lucas. "I shall keep it safe. And Gaston will take charge of the arrangements for your standard - have no worries."
He pauses and thoughtfully considerable his immaculately manicured nails. "It does occur that if you are looking to ... ah ... roust your men out of the dives of Amber, it might be worth my accompanying you. One is, of course, always reluctant to boast, but I suspect my acquaintance with the such establishments is pretty well unparalled among our generation, although I am aware I have had formidable competition."
"I would be honoured," Vere says in return. "I was counting upon the expertise of my own native guide, a sailor named Shrike, but I would not turn down the assistance of a Lord of Amber." He reaches into his pouch and pulls out a leather arm band. "I found this in the city," he says. "Actually, to be honest, I told several merchants that I absolutely must have something similar to this, and would think favourably of whoever could provide me with one, and it was found for me. I suspect that Robin would be amused at the chicanery and villainy that must have followed it on its way back to me."
The armband is of simple dark brown leather, with an engraving of two flying hawks.
Lucas nods in approval - of the device and - being Lucas - of the design.
"Excellent work," he says appreciatively. "I shall guard it well."
"Thank you," Vere replies with a nod.
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XXXII: Tea and Talk of Thrift | Index | XXXIV: Fireworks in Amber
