18.   The Invasion.

 

Things are always less threatening in the morning.  Especially when one wakes up in one’s own rooms and in one’s own bed.  Still yawning, Scarlett walked to the window to let in golden rays of sunlight and fresh air.  There was a rather sizeable contingent of troops exercising in the yard – must be training for the next week’s parade in celebration of Random’s birthday.  Although something seemed odd about them – the colors looked unfamiliar and also it appeared… no, there was no doubt that these men had blue hair and beards.  She made a mental note to ask her mother.  When she left her quarters, another thing that she had not noticed in her last night excitement struck her as even odder – halls and stairs were heavily guarded by Julian’s foresters.  The sentries were be positioned every 20 feet or so, each armed not only with a sword but also with a carbine – something she had never seen before, though she knew that a sizeable cache of firearms was maintained since Corwin’s times.  What the hell was going on in the Castle?

 

There was a flurry of activities by the main staircase.  Men carrying furniture, men carrying trunks, men carrying boxes, girls – blue-haired, witchy and disheveled – scurrying in both directions.  Two courtiers, one of whom she recognized as the Castellan, were cautiously navigating the stairs among the ruckus and she overheard some of the conversation.

 

“…And the King?”

 

“The King ordered to give her whatever she asks for.  She asked to be close to the library, so we thought we’d give her former Caine’s suite yanno, right next to it.  But she took the whole wing! For her guards, for her maids.  Ours aren’t good enough apparently, and yet she wouldn’t dismiss them either because hers don’t speak a word of Thari...”

 

“What does she do?”

 

Ohh… she’s all over the place… disrupting scribes, charming guards, studying portraits, poking around, drawing, measuring…”

 

“Measuring?”

 

“Ohh, yeah…everything - rooms, doors, windows, even furniture.  Today she’s measuring the Great Dining Hall, I’m told.”

 

“What for?”

 

“I’ve no idea.  I guess she’s planning either an invasion or a major remodeling.  May Unicorn have mercy on us…”

 

In total bewilderment Scarlett rushed into Fiona’s private office.  Three heads turned in her direction with much disapproval.  Fiona was reclining behind her antique cherry desk, with Bleys occupying one of the chairs on the other side, and Julian standing by the wall.

 

“I got my duties to attend to.  And you better remember what I’ve said, Fi.  There’s gonna be more trouble… much more!”  Julian frowned at Scarlett, crossed the room and slammed the door behind him.

 

“You really should knock, Scarlett.  People might think I didn’t bring you up well.”  Fiona smiled with the corners of her mouth.  She seemed to pay no attention to Julian’s abrupt departure.

 

“But, mother, what’s going on?  Are we under attack?”

 

“Sure seems this way,” Bleys chuckled.

 

“Hmm…  We’re still holding most of the Castle.  So far only lost the western wing of the second floor.”  Fiona sighed theatrically though her eyes were laughing.

 

“What happened?”

 

“You cousin Elektra happened,” Fiona’s smile became broader.  “She’s out of the hospital, so Random invited her to move in... hmm… in such a way that’d be very hard to refuse.  So she didn’t.  Just asked if she could bring her own maids.  Of course, Random agreed.  Then she asked if she could bring her own bodyguards.  That was more unusual as everyone always found the Castle guard quite sufficient.  But Random wanted the little wench to feel comfortabl, so he agreed to that too…”

 

“He really should’ve asked how many…” Bleys’ laughter resonated in the room.  Scarlett gasped recalling the blue-haired regiment in the yard, but seeing her mother joining in with her uncle, started laughing too.

 

“I never knew Brand maintained a Shadow army,” Fiona continued finally.  “But apparently he does and she brought in at least a half of it.  I think she rotates them, but there’re an awful lot of them around at any given time.  Quite disciplined, heavily armed.  We don’t really think there’s a threat, she’s too smart for that.  Obviously she’s trying to annoy Random into asking her to leave.  But with foreign troops quite close in numbers to the Castle guard… it’s better to be on a safe side, so we moved in some of Julian’s forces, those that are supposed to take part in the parade anyway.”

 

“Did she ask about me?”

 

“What do you think?” Fiona chuckled and made a very funny grimace.  “Her Highness has requested both our presence at high tea tomorrow afternoon.  But looks like I wouldn’t make it… so pass her my humble apologies.”

 

“What about Jasra and what she said…?”

 

“Jasra… Jasra,” Fiona sighed.  “I don’t blame you for trusting the snake.  She can be very enchanting and convincing as hell, and you had no idea what she does in that Keep of hers.  Tell her, Bleys.”

 

“Well,” Bleys attempted to lift his feet on the edge of Fiona’s desk, but immediately put them down under her stare.  “I’ve been following Jasra’s activities for years on Benedict’s orders.  She has a whole research facility in her Keep.  Imported a lot of scientists and magicians from Shadow.  Some are charlatans of course, but most are quite on the level.  They figured out how to conduct electric current in the Golden Circle shadows – that’s her main accomplishment, though it still wouldn’t work in Amber proper, so we aren’t concerned that much.  But her real goal is breeding Shadow people genetically predisposed to attain broken Pattern powers.  She hopes to eventually raise a whole army of them under Dalt.  Now, that’d be a true threat, and that’s the reason Benedict wants to keep an eye on it.  This is a very long-term project of course.  But she has time.  She takes folks from Kashfa and Eregnor, makes them walk her Pattern and breeds the survivors…then does the same to their children.  No say how many she killed already – thousands, tens of thousands perhaps.  Poor Rinaldo knows nothing of it.  He just keeps wondering why there’re constant uprisings in Kashfa.”

 

Scarlett blushed bright red, realizing how foolish it had been of her to trust the woman, and how much more her mother and uncle knew about all this.  But her mother’s were radiating approval.  “It’s perfectly fine, Scarlett, your concern’s much appreciated and I’m very proud of you.  Now, let’s assume everything she says is true…”

 

“Ohh, come on, Fi, not you out of all people!  Sentient powers?  What a nonsense!”

 

“I said, let’s assume, Bleys.  Of course I don’t buy that stuff, no one does except for Merlin.  But let’s just suppose… so Ele goes and fixes broken patterns, which are then absorbed by the true one.  How’s that gonna harm Amber?  Isn’t the true Pattern the source of our power and very existence?  Aren’t we to rejoice when it grows stronger?  Mandor gonna attack us for that?  So what?  We’ve beaten them before and shall do it again!  So what’s a big deal?”

 

“It is for Jasra,” Bleys smirked.  “No more broken patterns – no more Jasra.”

 

“Exactly, Bleys!  That’s if she believes in what she says.  If she doesn’t…  Ele’s the only obstacle on her way of reconciling with Brand.  Either way her motivation’s crystal clear.  But Mandor…  He’s usually much more subtle than this.  And yet, essentially, he sends us a message that if we don’t dispose of Ele, we’ll be facing a major war.  Why?  That’s what a real puzzle’s in here.  Perhaps I should pay a visit to Jasra after all…”

 

“Hoping that Mandor’s going to show up…”

 

Fiona blushed slightly.  “Yes, I suppose that’s the idea, Bleys.”  Her eyes drifted back to silent Scarlett. “I think you should stay in Amber though.  If it’s some kind of a trap, no reason to put both our necks in.  Besides you wouldn’t want to miss your tea with Ele.”

 

“And if it’s not a trap, you’d rather handle Mandor on your own, Fi…  Like in the old times…”

 

“Ohh… shuddup, Bleys!” Fiona blushed much deeper.  “I shall depart after lunch…  And I’m sure you’d appreciate some time in the company of your Uncle Bleys, Scarlett.”

 

The day passed quickly in the company of Uncle Bleys.  In the middle of the night Scarlett woke up with a start to the soft whispers of rain outside, raindrops like large tears sliding down the window’s pane.  This was very strange - it almost never rained in Amber this time of year.  Even stranger was to feel tears on her own cheeks, yet she was overwhelmed by most dreadful melancholy, as if something irreversibly sad had just happened in the world.  Why, she did not know.

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