You can feel him raising the Pattern...clearly looking at the both of you. And then Lorius glares.
"You...you haven't yet" he says to Hadrian, disregarding him again.. "but YOU have. When and where did you dare walk the Pattern of Amber, Princess Bhangbadea?" he says, flying up to within a meter of you.
"I wasn't aware that one of your powers was the recognition and awarding of noble titles, Prince Lorius." I moved my hand in negation, "I'm afraid that I must decline your offer. I am not prepared to execute the duties attendant to the title of Princess of Amber." It was a wonderful omen that Lord Julian was giving me the recognition that I had preferred, rather than playing another game. I wanted the same kind of respect from Lorius, but didn't know how the matter might be pursued. I had heard he was sharp, but not that he was also fond of sharpening his tongue on lesser men and women. His treatment of Hadrian was purely ill-mannered. That seemed to place him more in the crowd of mundane practitioners like myself. People who let their power sometimes speak over their judgement. The kind of people I was used to dealing with.
I didn't think pointing it out would ease this meeting. What came out of my mouth next was therefore a surprise.
"As to when and where I dared to walk the Pattern of Amber, I think it fair to parlay these things in the way of Wizards. Since my respect for your abilities is such that I expect you understand these matters quite well. If you want private information from me, then I will answer you question for question. If you agree to these terms, we will each find out quite a lot. Since you have asked the first question, as is traditional, I will name the last one."ª
I measured glance for glance with the red haired sorceror. Until Lorius accepted or withdrew his question, Julian, Hadrian and everyone else in the world had ceased to exist.
I swallowed, only now wondering at my instincts.
ªscholar's note: while not a current practice, and never very common, the Wizard's Question Duel tradition is as old as any written record. The challenger will put forward a question that can be answered by the personal experience of the challenged. If this is accepted by the challenged, then a tit-for-tat of questions pepper back and forth, often with nary a breath to gather the wits. Each question must be answered with quickness, wit and veracity, lest the Gods who watch over Magick , Truth and Honor be drawn to interfere with the outcome (apparently Wizards abhor outside interference in their affairs). Questions may be answered by admitting no particular knowledge in relation to a specific question. This does count as an answer, although most Wizard's agree it reflects badly on both the questioner and the one answering.
This challenge is not lightly made, for the only person in control of its ending is the challenged, who will announce when they are asking the Final question. A Question Duel may last for minutes, hours, days, or weeks. A pair of questions is the minimum. The longest known Question Duel is the one between the Wizard Daedalus and the Thane of the North Wind. This Duel involved one hundred and twenty-one pairs of questions and lasted for almost a year, with pauses for rest.
The red haired, green eyed sorcerer, does not move, does not flinch, does not react as you state your response to his question.
Your proposal to turn this into an official Wizard's Question Duel. It seems only a moment, but perhaps it is far longer in the real world, when Lorius gives his response.
"So that is the way you want it? All right, then I accept your terms. A Question Duel it is then. Let us not neglect our friends and relatives here, shall we?"
A quick magic, perhaps a spell of conjuration, and two tables appear. The first, which appeared right next to you is a circular affair, with two chairs of the same red wood as the table placed opposite one another. A large pitcher, filled with apparently water, and two glasses compliment the set.
The second table is square and has a pair of chairs and glasses and water as well. In addition, there is a small cot.
"If you want to stay Uncle, you can put good cousin Brieanne on the bed. We might be here a while."
In response, the lord of Arden shakes his head, and instead pulls out a Trump. With a nod to you and to Hadrian, he and his daughter disappear from the scene.
Lorius shrugs and sits down, taking a glass, and with it a long draught. "Come on, Sorceress. We don't have all the time in the world."
Your friend Hadrian almost gingerly sits down at the second table, upon which Dora settles to watch the affair with her ice blue eyes. Hadrian reluctantly takes a glass and sips some water.
Bishop jumped up on the table and sat at Hadrian's elbow. The clearing was so quiet that I had no trouble catching his small voice, "Hadrian . . . would you believe she calls me a rash troublemaker?" I felt the edges of my ears flush.
I took a chair and sat down across from Prince Lorius.
"It happened that I learned from a drunk priest of the Wizard King of Hyminikos that great healing powers were to be had from the Pattern of Amber. At the time, I was in Cochis and had never heard of Amber. But I had a Great Need of healing powers, and I plied this priest with wine and patronage until I was certain that he had told me all that he knew of the Pattern."
"I then verified his tale with a half-dozen fairly worldly types of my acquaintance." I paused, "All of whom told me to stay far away from Amber. I was twenty-three. It was two years before the Year of the Summer Storms, as it is called in Kashfa. Cochis has a different calendar. I have no idea what year it was in Amber."
"I made preparations. I traveled in search of Amber. It took fourteen months to reach port Amber. You can imagine I had an interesting time finding a series of ships to bring me here. It had taken so long, I wasn't sure that the Need that I had for this power still existed, but I had to try."
I watched Lorius' face. I was certain that no one knew of what I was saying. I had never told anyone. Never. Even Bishop was hearing this for the first time.
"The taverns of Amber are rife with small talk about the Royale Family. Most of it I didn't believe-- I learned better much later. The one thing I did believe was the talk of the Pattern-- held separate, in a room guarded by a dozen men, with a locked door three times the height of a man and twice as wide."
"I learned that these men were trained by the best captains of the best warrior of the best army in the world. And later, when I studied and drank with Amber Castle guard, I saw that some of this must be true. These men were not like most."
"I knew despair."
"By chance, I was scouting the castle itself at night, for even with what I had learned of its defenses, I knew I must try to get in, even if I spent the rest of my life in the gaol beneath it, when I saw the ghost city. I knew not what it was, only that no one had spoken of it, and that my plans might change if I knew more. I went back to town to learn more."
"Another month passed. It took me so long to gather the knowledge that I missed the cycle of the moon. The next month was storming. So was the next. Finally, although clouded, in the seventh month of that year I was standing on the mountain when the stairway appeared. Somehow I knew I could not expect to make my way to the Pattern beneath the castle and such was my need, that I walked up into the stormclouds to find the Pattern I hoped would also be in the sky. That is where and when I walked the Pattern of Amber."
I stopped. He had not asked why. I didn't begrudge him asking the two issues of where and when as a single question. That would be petty. I thought about Madam Aprechea who had given me all the values that I knew at age 25. I knew I would never have walked the stair of the ghost city, let alone the Pattern if I had known she was already dead in Cochis.
I did not wait to see if he was satisfied with my answer, for there was nothing more I could have said. I had no intention of naming my question the Last yet.
"Prince Lorius, what auric spirit enlivens the Golden Orrey, spits arrogance and thunders magick as if the scions of Amber are pawns?"
"Have to somehow close off Tir someday. Too many..." Lorius mutters, at the conclusion of your answer to his question. He takes a sip of the water and then responds.
"You misunderstand, I think, the role of the Orrery in the drama we just witnessed." he begins. With a sidelong glance, you can see that Hadrian has taken even more interest in this question. Probably that golden bolt.
"The Orrery, I believe, was being used as a contact and focusing device for the power of the being who so unceremoniously disconnected you and Hadrian from the conflict over Triton. I have seen this power focused directly through Jayson before, and I will admit it seems to be an evolutionary step forward for the Being to manifest itself in other ways. It bears watching."
"This Being, I believe, originates in one of the upper echelons of reality. . . analogous or in actuality the so called Dreamlands."
"I have some theories as to the identity of the Being, but since I do not have proof or substantiation, I will not submit any part of them in my answer."
Lorius crosses his arms a moment, as if daring you to challenge his statement.
"And now my question."
"You have been present, it seems, for two of the three manifestations of the Omphalos Portals in this end of our Multiverse. What have you learned concerning their, and the Invaders, nature that is of use to combat and limit their incursions?"
I nodded to his question without thinking what he might gather from that. A damn good point. Prince Lorius was wedded to the health of his realm, regardless of what other personality traits he might have -- or lack.
"I have learned both the negative and the positive as relates to them and their nature." I thought rapidly, caught in the drama of our exchange. "Much information has been given to the Princes Benedict, Gerard, and Julian -- but I think your question is more specific, and I have deeper impressions now."
"They are quite merciless. Driven by their own strength. In that sense, they may see themselves as natural conquerors, with a noble regard for maximizing their effect on their opponents, since they think they will win regardless of time or resistance. I don't know it for certain, but I have impressions, partly from interrogation."
"They respect by a commitment as fierce as their own. Brieanne drew their deadly response when she was willing to attack as one against three score. They hold no natural resource as valuable enough to stay their hand. They would have destroyed any portion of Arden to eliminate Brieanne's resistance. The Doors themselves are laced with counter-magicks that will kill meddlers, magicks that have psychic components."
"They believe themselves strong on both the physical front of war, and the magical one. They have demonstrated acute awareness of conducting both fronts in coordination. Many of their spell effects seem to drive straight to a mental plane, yet they do not neglect the resistive arcane forces that protect them physically."
"They are old in their way of life. Their success has bred a small degree of complacency. A definite superiority of air has permeated their culture. It also affects the line troops -- who are excellent, I might add."
"So finally, to summarize what would oppose and limit their incursion I would make these comments."
"First, their strength of arms and magick is a key element of their strategy. They will withdraw if the fight cannot be won. Render the entire environment hostile to magick, and you may raise the threshold of their anchoring a Door to a level they cannot match or manipulate from their end."
"Second, despite appearances, I believe that their culture can be exploited against them. I can think of two ways to do this, and I would hope that you and your more experienced fellows could come up with more." I realized that most of what I was saying was not founded in fact, but the implication of his question was that I might speculate-- "I would make effort to demonstrate that this incursion strategy is not solely at their choice. Attack them. Perhaps even demonstrate that Amber can move to them in a more stealthy form, less obvious than the Doors. Something that they must hold a reserve to deal with. Something that the safe leaders and commanders need to consider in their waking hours. Retribution on their own soil, not just halting their advances."
"In addition, as another approach, Amber must be flexible in the face of a more static culture. The benefit is immediate and telling beyond their ability to counter. Drop old conventions, induce new ideas, radical alliances, bring together strange new combinations of talent and unused potentials. Amber should be willing to bend until it hurts, for if they do not, they cede to the Omphalos, that they will play by the same cultural rules of a successful ruling party at the prime of their abilities."
"It is the arrogance and pride of your foe that you can use if you do not have too much of your own." Without realizing, I had levered myself up out of my chair, hands flat on the table, leaning towards Lorius' position. I found myself with my nose less than a span of three hands from his.
Not the best show of decorum. I sat down and let my juices simmer back down.
"As to my next question . . . . . "
"Prince Lorius, what of the order of the Universe? I do not hear many wizards referring to the Dreamlands as an 'upper echelon' of reality. What are these echelons, as you have seen them? Please lay out their order and natures."
I started breathing a chi to relax.
Lorius matches your gaze and level of determined intensity, even as you had levered yourself out of the chair and closer to his countenance.
He is not showing any sense of surprise, though, when you ask your question in turn. Although seemingly slightly unhappy at giving up his secrets, he takes a sip of water.
"Well, then, You want to know about the structure of reality, eh, Sorceress?" Lorius smiles. "Decades of research, leached away in a question duel. Well, maybe it will correct some of the flawed and stupid thinking amongst our brethren."
"First though, we need a prop...and I notice I didn't serve any food. Let me kill two birds with one stone."
Lorius gestures again, and suddenly, four plates appear. One each in front of you, Lorius, Hadrian and Bishop. On each plate is a gleaming silver spoon, and a three color ice cream confection, vertically arranged. Strawberry at the bottom, chocolate in the center and vanilla on top.
The name of the dish comes to you...a Neapolitan, it's called. While your friends look at theirs dubiously, Lorius takes his spoon and takes a little bit out of the chocolate.
"Reality, Ice cream style, Princess Bhangbadea." Lorius says, with a smile.
"Every sorceress, in every world, knows of the existence of worlds beyond the one she lives in. In fact, you might even say that the definition of a Sorceress is someone who has Awakened to the existence and possibilities of alternate existences."
"Many practitioners are aware of the nature of the multiverse, and have some knowledge, however distorted, of Amber and Chaos. You would be surprised how distorted that knowledge can become. One shadow, for instance, refers to this pole of reality as Anchor, and Chaos as Flux."
"Fewer magicians, Bhangbadea, are aware of the existence of multiverses beyond our own. Even if one does not know about the details, such as the world of the Invaders, I have been long aware of other island universes, almost unimaginably further away than anything in experience."
"Now, imagine all of that...our multiverse, the Invaders, the destroyed world of Valerian, all of them...suspended in a void. We call the link to that void the Abyss...the crack in the multiverse at the gates of Chaos."
He takes another spoonful of the chocolate ice cream.
"All that, Bhangbadea, is this. The chocolate layer of this ice cream treat." He takes the bite and savors it.
"But, there is more to reality than that, as expansive as it seems."
"Down here" He takes a spoonful of the Strawberry, "is what I call the Echelons of Entropic Reality. Realms of Death, mainly. If there is truly afterlifes, or such, it is here that they can be found."
"There are practitioners, true practitioners, mind you, not charlatans, which have traffic with these realms. Euthantos, Blood Magicians, Necromancers. Foul magicians who sully the name and our art."
"I know little more, and have no interest in exploring these shadowlands. However one last thing...it is possible that this level of reality acts as a skeleton upon which the rest sits. Much like the cells of a body have tiny little skeletons to support their own structure. It might be that powers can tap into this realm to move things...or perhaps damage reality itself in a gross and unpredictable way."
"Now here." He takes a spoonful of vanilla. "Are the upper echelons of reality which I mentioned in my previous question. A good name for them might be the Echelons of Ideas."
"The Dreamplane or planes are up here. Both the way which the Dream Stranger contacted us, and more mythic and theoretical realms. Where, I am convinced, is the ultimate origin of your antagonist. Somehow Jayson tapped into a facet of these realms, or perhaps the being tapped into Jayson from its side."
"Other things of Idea and platonic ideals are here, Bhangbadea. You." He points toward Hadrian who does not, fortunately, flinch. "I am no practitioner of your art, but the correspondence and bridging of minds across distance by means of Trump sounds like that it is through one of these echelons that Trumps work."
"While the Entropic realms act as a skeleton upon reality, the Idea realms seem to be a consequence of the effect of sentient beings upon Reality. If there was nothing more than germs and algal scum in the cosmos, the Idea realms would not be. I think, therefore they exist."
"And that, Bhangbadea, is really what Reality is like."
He pauses and takes a drink of water. And returns to speaking with his own question.
"Another personal then, Lady Bhangbadea, for you answered my questions on the Omphalos with verbose completeness."
"What are now truly your plans and intentions, now that you have come to Amber?"
Had the wind stopped? I would not move my eyes from Lorius' -- but were the clouds still moving in the sky? Did the whole realm revolve around us at this moment?
Truly. My plans. My intentions.
He had no shortness of nerve. I had tangled him in this duel for his sudden unseemly quest for personal observation and inquiry. Now the slipper was on the other foot. Why hadn't I seen that he could dig even deeper-- instead of backing off? Now I was tangled.
More than seconds passed.
In another place, almost as if another phase of reality, Bishop looked meaningfully at Dora. His fur was prickly, as if something had unsettled him, he whispered, "Get ready to run if this gets ugly, Dora. I've never see any good come of pressing BhangBadea on personal matters."
I cleared my throat. "I came here at the special and sincere request of Prince Hadrian. Later, Valerian added his plea to that motivation. I promised both only that I would guide and see for myself. Now that is accomplished."
"It has been my intention from the beginning to leave for home as soon as possible."
Truly. He had used the word truly. Mother's Blood.
"I. . . .," my fingers knit together, then whitened a bit as I gripped, "I do not have plans for Amber. Other than certain esoteric interests, I do not have any feelings for Amber. I have studied it from afar. I do not pretend to understand it."
I wanted to stop. Should have. Right then.
"Amber is in deep manure. These Invaders will grind you to powder. They have studied all of you, you can count on that. They know your strengths in detail. You are doomed."
Stop. Shut up.
"You'll be better off if you can take some radical steps. Do something you are not known for."
Stop.
"You'll be better off without me around. I will find some way to stop the Omphalos. The people that I declare enemies do not prosper. The people that I care about die."
Stupidassinineblowhardshootingoffyourheartmouthlikesomedamnschoolgirl.
I didn't want to imagine what he might think had driven the blood from my face. I felt exposed to the bone.
"I intend therefore to see Prince Hadrian settled here. Including an introduction to King Random. To find as much information on the Omphalos as possible before carrying some of their medicine back to them. Finally, I will return to my own haunts, where I might wage war on them."
Done. Now shut up, woman.
A short distance away....Bishop nodded to Hadrian and leaned closer to Dora, "Oooooh, this is really interesting. Now that I know what she's planning-- don't you think we could get together and figure some way to extend her visit? It's obvious these people need her right here!"
Now. Keep your voice steady.
I smiled. Damn, that smarted. I thought of myself as honest, but that was a little too honest. "Well, Prince Lorius, I won't bother to quiz a man of your caliber on the politics of whether this Jayson is ruled by this Spirit from the Idea Echelons. The messages sent to me by It seemed to indicate that this Spirit may have 'ideas' and 'vision' even more petty and biased than the reputation of Amber's royal family." I hope that put him back some distance. I had no feel for how many layers of armor this man wanted to peel off me. I was learning a hard lesson here. I might have changed the rules, but Lorius was adaptable to my game. "So my question is this -----"
"What would you consider a telling strategy for dominating and rebuffing the unwanted attentions of this Thing from the Idea Echelons? It threatened me and Hadrian. It must have some vulnerabilities. You have made a point of this study."
Hadrian hesitantly, at first, but with a little less reluctance tries the ice cream as you give the answer to Lorius' probing, personal question, keeping your composure. Despite Bishops' comment, the duel continues and without incident.
Lorius listens to your question and puts his index fingers together, formulating an answer for a moment and a half before speaking. He begins, to buy a little more time, with the classic gambit of restating your own question, differently.
"A telling strategy to rebuff this being, is your question, then? I would have personally preferred to have some more direct experience with it in order to assess it's capabilities in greater detail, but I can tell you some things to employ in your next encounter with Jayson and his friend."
"First, it's clear that Jayson has some sort of power connected with the being. Taking on the being almost certainly necessitates taking on Jayson, and vice versa. Therefore, you should not attempt to encounter Jayson and the being unassisted and unaided."
Lorius shows just how serious he is in his next statement.
"Even I would not presume to directly conflict against that being and Jayson, as it stands, alone."
"The being's bailiwick is psyche. In a sense, as it currently manifests here in this reality, it really is not much beyond a creature OF psyche. Although it would be taking on its very strength, any attacks you were to make must necessarily be in that nature."
"Psychoactive spells to baffle it, imprison it, banish it, confuse it, attack it from many perspectives and angles. That would seem, in the absence of more information, the way to be going about an encounter with it."
Lorius pauses, to eat some more of the ice cream, and then speaks.
"And now my question back to you, Bhangbadea."
"Although it is clear from your demeanor, manner, and general attitude that you certainly do not consider yourself a part of Amber, it is none the less clear that you are OF Amber."
"It is without doubt that a significant question, then arises, with the matter of your parentage. You surely have had speculation on the subject since and possibly before your successful walk of the Tir Na Nogth Pattern."
"I would hear your thoughts and information on the subject."
Irritating, that he persisted in strictly personal questions, this was like no classic Wizard's Duel. Yet, two could play at this permutation of the game as well. And with this question, at least, I had ample warning. I did have to wonder, why a minor female added to the family had any part of his interest.
"I will give you what information I have."
"I never suspected in my first approach of Amber, that I might be of your family's blood. The tales of the family seemed like to make them gods, and I knew my origins were anything but god-like. So, you are wrong about that idea. The story that only the offspring of Oberon could live through the Patternwalk were obviously scare tactics to my young mind."
"My mother's family disowned her-- for being made with child from a stranger with no promise of marriage. The stranger was variously named by those people old enough to recall him. Stefan. Griff. Fox. Looking back, I would say they were somewhat affected by having met him. They had confused recollections. For what reason my father had of covering his tracks this way, I do not know."
"But when my mother got a blood fever, he was not there, he did not return, or he was not near enough to be informed."
"So when she died, I was 3. I don't remember her well. I have no recollect of my father at all. Even though, he was said to visit her at irregular times. It is hard to know what to believe. He has never spoken to me."
"Since then, or more properly, since the Pattern and I marked each other, I have learned the meaning of immortality. I have learned that healing is not a gift of the Pattern, but tenacity is. I have learned that my flesh is cut from a different cloth than that of my fellows in the world. I do not know what it is to be a goddess, but I do know what it is to be thought to be a devil. I still do not know for certain that I am of this family-- though all things suggest that somehow I am. No information that I have connects me to the blood of Amber."
"So this time, Prince Lorius, my answer is spare. I have outgrown the urge to ask it of myself. Perhaps it is better thus, for if it is of concern yet to you and your family, then I might have some unique quality in not knowing it."
"Perhaps not."
"So Prince Lorius, unexpectedly, I find myself wondering if I should not ask you the same question that you have asked me. What more interesting way to penetrate the subject than to divulge your own study of it? Perhaps we are half-brother and sister? Or might you be my father?"
I let those words settle for a few moments, and studied the clouds above the treetops. Then I let my voice hold certainty. "But as I said, I've lost the urge to ask myself these things."
"So please answer this instead, Prince Lorius, what demeanor, manner, and general attitude might a woman approach you with, that you would find so entrancing, so stimulating of your true personal desires, that you might find yourself falling under the will and passion of this woman, more quickly than you could force yourself to deny her."
I held myself ready. Would he be able to take his own medicine? True personal revelation?
You hear movement in the background as you finish your answer to Lorius' question...you can tell it is the "guards" who came along with Triton. After wandering off following the disappearance of Triton so suddenly, they apparently have returned, while you continue the Question Duel.
And then comes your question. To his credit, Lorius does not rage, rant or spit in the wind. Even if giving him some of his own medicine definitely got him to prick his ears.
"You pose a question that some of our family has no doubt wondered. It actually is a matter of a joke to my sister, who seems determined that I should begin a relationship with Noys."
"She has a point, though. Few women, Bhangbadea, could possibly hold my interest. Intelligence, immortality, inventiveness, insight."
"A woman such as that, if she existed, would just...peak my interest. But lose myself...fall head over heels in love? Hardly. Love, Bhangbadea is a unstable emotion with a half life of about 6 months."
"I don't believe I could find a woman who could make me lose control of my intelligence, my emotions, my mind in the manner which you suggest and is featured in popular romance novels in many shadows."
"It simply is not possible for me."
"I admire, though, your audacity, as bracing as it was, and so it is my turn to ask you a question. Your point is taken, so personal questions I shall refrain from for the nonce. So let me ask you this..."
"In what variations on the magic arts do you consider yourself underprepared, but interested in shoring up your knowledge in?"
I held up a hand, "One moment, Prince Lorius. The environ has changed. I do not have a mind to share our knowledge with these two guards. They left before I took up your challenge. And perhaps, Prince Hadrian would like to adjourn as well. I will allow a pause, while we find a more suitable location--- or you tell me that the guards are your people and we should continue."
Somehow, I doubted they were Lorius' faithfuls. And likewise that Hadrian would want to be anywhere else but this free show.
I thought about the Lorius' frank answers to the last question. At least I still had some room to manuever. He had gotten my point.
Still, there was no doubt that he was going to strip me as clean as a scavenger. Even within the rules he was dangerous. This last question would open up yet another front.
"A point, Bhangbadea. A good point." Lorius' last three words seem almost petulant, hating to concede it to you. Yet, he does.
The red haired man turns toward the two guards.
"Time to go home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home."
And suddenly, the pair of guards are enveloped in a reddish-gold light...and are gone.
"Now, you and the Miniature Bronx Zoo." Lorius says, looking at Hadrian, Dora, and Bishop. "You three really should give us a little...privacy."
And a second spell comes forth, an encapsulating light purple field surrounds the trio's table to the space of about one meter. They seem happy and healthy inside, unharmed.
"Privacy pill." Lorius says, by way of explanation, turning back to you. "They are completely unharmed, but cannot hear or see us..instead they are getting to watch episodes of 'Three's Company'.
"And so we can now return to matters at hand."