Chapter 039: Nisse

"And this place our forefathers made for man!

This is the process of our love and wisdom,

To each poor brother who offends against us -

Most innocent perhaps - and what if guilty?

Is this the only cure?..."

The Dungeon - Samuel Taylor Coleridge

     Although it is not as long ago as it seems, I can remember a younger, more innocent Dorian, who when he first learned about his Amber heritage was full of visions of what his life would be like from that moment on. These visions probably stemmed from overly developed feelings of romanticism, and they have already turned out wrong on several counts, but I am sure that even without his romantic notions this younger Dorian could never have envisioned himself handling a common shovel for the purpose of digging an irrigation ditch. That was precisely what I was doing at the moment, though, and I wasn't even much good at it, if I was to believe the alternately muttered and grumbled comments from my as yet nameless companion.

     My host was an old man, still quite healthy and strong for his age, with a short crop of white hair (what remained of it, that is). Apparently he lived alone there in a rustic old cottage surrounded by the fields that I had found myself in when I had tried to make some kind of connection with whatever remained of Nisse's mind. I didn't have the foggiest idea whether this place was simply a construct of that mind, or whether I had completely been transported to some other Shadow, or some combination of the two, but I didn't see that it would matter too much. The only enigma I was interested in right now was the grumpy old man beside me. 

    As soon as he had caught sight of me, he had started ordering me around, instructing me to fetch the second shovel under the lean-to, and while I was at it I could bring him some bread from the kitchen as well. Not knowing whether this stranger was in fact Nisse or not, I complied and in this way I got my first practical lessons in digging ditches, a really useful skill for an Amberite, I must say. When I had more or less got the hang of it, I felt it was time to get some information from the old man.

     "Have you been living here for a long time?" I began by way of introduction.

     "Yes, yes," he replied impatiently.

     "Where are we anyway?" I asked.

     "What's it to you?" he snapped.

     "Well, it might be useful to know when I may want to return to where I came from."

     "Hmph," he snorted. "You found your way here, I'm sure you'll find your way back as well." Not very informative, was he? Better try the direct approach.

     "I'm looking for a man who goes by the name of Nisse," I said.

     "That old geezer? What do you want him for?"

     "I wanted to ask him a few things about something that he made."

     "Ha!" The old man laughed derisively. "Since when did that nitwit ever make anything useful?"

     "From what I've heard he used to be rather famous in his days." I said.

     "Hmph, fiddlesticks!"

     "But you do know him, then?" I insisted.

     "I might," he replied cageyly.

     "What kind of answer is that?" I burst out. "Either you know the man or you don't."

     "Well, I don't have all these high-placed connections, do I?" He shot me a sly and calculating look. "Since you're looking for Nisse, though, I suggest you'd better look elsewhere. Nisse doesn't live here anymore."

     "Where can I find him, then?" I asked.

     "How should I know?"

     "You said that he doesn't live here anymore, so you might have some idea where he went off to, might you not?"

     "No," he said turning back to his work, "I'm sure that Nisse never lived anywhere else than in luxurious palaces." Unicorn! What a truly exasperating man! I really had to tell myself to remain patient and try to find out something. It was clear that the old man knew more than he was telling, but what would it take to get him talking?

     Meanwhile dark clouds had started to appear on the horizon, and slowly but surely they drifted closer and closer. The wind also sprang up and turned into a cold and powerful gale. The old man looked up and frowned.

     "It doesn't look good," I remarked.

     "No," he said, "I guess we're in for an early winter. I don't like it, though." He scrambled out of the ditch and started walking towards a field of corn. He looked at it for only a moment, glanced up at the dark clouds that were drawing nearer, and then went to fetch a scythe and started reaping the corn. I asked him whether I could be of any help and he told me to bind the stalks together. Of course he had to show me how to do it properly before I really could get started, but after that things went rather smoothly, and in no time we had finished reaping and were storing the bundles in a shed behind the cottage. In the meantime it had started to rain, big cold droplets that nearly froze my skin where they landed. I quickly gathered up the two shovels and placed them under the lean-to, before following my host into the safety of the house. By this time I had just about made my mind up about him: for all his evasions and jerking me around he just had to be Nisse. Why he didn't want to talk to me was still a mystery, though.

     In the soft glow of some candles he had lighted I saw that his expression was one of worry. He glanced outside for a moment, muttering something about bad omens, then he sat down at the table and stared off into the distance. I took the chair in front of him and took out the black and white Trump that had brought me here. Nisse took it from my hands, looked at it and sighed.

     "It's no use," he mused, "wherever you may hide, wherever you may hide, it's no use. It will find you in the end." He looked up at me. "Say what you have to say. I am Nisse, that's what you wanted to hear, isn't it? Or rather, I used to be Nisse."

     "Pleased to meet you," I replied, "I'm Dorian, son of Deirdre of Amber."

     "Oh, one of Dworkin's lot. Why didn't you ask him about this? No, never mind, he wasn't there when it happened, he had already left."

     "I got your name from a lady called Tiziane," I said. "She owed me for some service I had done for her, but she said that she herself couldn't give me the info I needed."

     "Why not?"

     "She said something about an oath...," I began.

     "Of course," Nisse interjected, "the Oath. We all took it."

     "She told me as much," I said, "but she also said that you might be willing to help me where she couldn't." I looked at him expectantly.

     "Did she really say that, now?" Nisse laughed. "Do you have any idea what this Oath means, what it represents?"

     "Ehm... no," I stammered.

     "I thought as much." He sighed. "But perhaps she was right; Tiziane cannot break the Oath even if she wanted to, and Suhuy would simply never do it. That only leaves me... And now here you are, actually throwing this card, of all the possible cards, into my face." He groaned and turned away.

     "Look," I said, "about the card: that wasn't my idea. As far as I can tell it was all Tiziane's doing. There is, however, a second problem with the card. There is someone stuck inside it." This got his attention.

     "Let me have a look," he said, and only touching it with one finger he very lightly concentrated on the card. "Hmm," he said after a while, "the place has turned into a real mess. And she certainly has a big mouth! Who is she anyway?"

     "My Aunt Fiona," I replied. "She used to be one of Dworkin's more accomplished students."

     "She should have known better," Nisse muttered. "What is it you want from me?"

     "Well, for starters, a way to get Aunt Fi out of there."

     "There is no easy way," he said. "You'll have to go in yourself, that's the only solution. Once it wouldn't have been possible, but it is all starting to unravel. On the one hand that makes it all pretty dangerous, but on the other hand it makes things easier too."

     "What are you talking about?" I asked, completely at a loss. "What is it that's unravelling?"

     "The card of course. Don't you know what it is?" I shook my head. "That figures. Do you know who it is?" Again I shook my head. "Doesn't this symbol mean anything to you? You must have at least have studied some things! What the hell kind of education are they giving you kids there in Amber?"

     "Nothing to do with this kind of stuff," I said. Nisse grumpily muttered something under his breath about modern ideas and such stuff. He regarded me closely and shrugged.

     "Why not?" he said. "After all, it's blowing a gale outside. Look, you're from Amber. Do you love it? Would you protect it from threats?" I nodded. "To what lengths would you go? No, don't try to answer it. You'll only find out when you're really faced with the problem." He sighed. "I was faced with it. I sacrificed seven lives to save the thing I loved, not all of them blameless, but some were. They were to be executed, but I wouldn't let it happen, and what happens in such cases is you come up with some kind of a compromise. What you hold there in you hand," he said, indicating the Trump, "is a compromise. A prison. His name is Taureth. He was a good friend, one of my pupils. We locked all of them away. We had to, it was the only way to avoid another civil war. Things had already escalated beyond the point of no return.

     "Does the name Ornach mean anything to you?" I shook my head once again. "You should know about him, really," Nisse said, "it's a part of your history too. When Dworkin stole the Jewel of Judgement he was not alone. He had a partner called Ornach. Dworkin managed to get away, but not without leaving his partner behind. He sacrificed Ornach and made him pay for the crime they both had committed. Of course there was a huge outcry in the Courts: it was an act of treason of the worst possible kind. Ornach was punished severely; he wasn't allowed to die, though, that would be too easy. He was chained to a rock, and as a symbol of our collective anger he was continually reminded of our loss and pain, period after period. Ornach was strong, he could live on indefinitely, and every period he recovered once again from the wounds inflicted on him. Was his punishment a just one? I don't know. He was a criminal, though, and he had to pay for what he had done, if only to serve as an example.

     "However, there was one problem: Ornach's children. They were none to happy that their father had to suffer for Dworkin's thievery, and they were a power to be reckoned with. All of Ornach's children were highly gifted. They managed to deliver Ornach from his ordeal and in that way started the War of the Eye, as it is commonly known. It was one of our major civil wars. After years of violent battles they were finally defeated. Ornach was chained to his rock again, but what about his children? In a way their cause was an honourable one, but we just couldn't simply let them go. As long as they were around the war would not be ended. It took twelve of us to construct these prisons for them: seven cards for seven children. At first we kept them together, but that turned out to be too dangerous. Under the influence of the children's powers the cards began to change, each prison shaping itself to suit its prisoner.

     "We distributed the cards among some of the major Houses with the charge of keeping them safe, a task which they didn't manage to carry out completely to satisfaction by the looks of it. I'm not aware of the circumstances that are currently bringing all of this together again, but I think that the time may be right. All of the children are very, very powerful; they might be able to accomplish feats that most others cannot. During the war they showed signs of having acquired more power than had until then been thought possible, where from no one knows."

     Nisse sighed once more and fell silent. I had a lot of questions I wanted to put to him, but for the moment I refrained from talking. I needed some time to collect my thoughts and to come to terms with the implications of his story. Had Dworkin been aware of his companion's plight, I wondered, and if so why had he not helped him? And if help had at that moment been impossible, why had he not tried to free Ornach by now, seeing as how a lot of people seemed to have forgotten all about him? Were there or had there ever been any Amberites who were aware of Ornach's existence? Why had they not acted? And what about me? Should I try to deliver this Taureth from his age-old prison? I figured that Tiziane must have believed that he might be able to help me get rid of my Curse, but was it really worth upsetting the whole power-structure for? For that was exactly what would happen of course: once one of Ornach's children was free, the others would soon follow, and their first objective would be once again to try and deliver their father.

    Still, on the other hand I couldn't help but feel something of a collective guilt at hearing Ornach's fate. If he had really been Dworkin's companion and partner, the one who helped him steal the Jewel and thus helped lay the foundations of what now was Amber, then we owed him big time. I realised that Ornach and his relatives might not feel too friendly towards us Amberites, but that was just the chance I had to take. Our relations certainly wouldn't take aturn for the better if no one from our side so much as tried to help them out. I sighed softly. It seemed my mind was made up, and I was ready to ask my questions now.

     "When I go into the card to retrieve Fiona," I said, "will it automatically mean that I will at the same time be releasing Taureth as well, or won't it?"

     "There's no way to tell," Nisse replied, regarding me wearily. "It may be necessary to get to him first, before you will be able to get her out."

     "From what I gathered from your story I'd say that Ornach's children might not be inclined to be very friendly towards Amber. Am I right in this?" Nisse shrugged.

     "I can't predict how they will react to you," he said. "You have to realise that they're all individuals. In my story I may have been generalising them too much. Truth is that there was only one thing that all of them agreed on and that was that their father should be free. I have no way of knowing what kind of arguments might have taken place between the lot of them after that feat had been accomplished."

     "You said that they possessed some strange powers," I said.

     "Or so people thought at the time. They displayed a uncanny... control over Shadow. It was different. I know the Logrus, and what they were using wasn't standard Logrus." I felt a shiver running down my spine at these words. They reminded me too much of what Aunt Fiona had told me about Azrain.

     "Do you think they might be able to help me?" I asked.

     "Well, I don't know what your problem is, but if Tiziane wasn't able to help you herself, it must be a very hard one. It might be possible, however, that one or more of Ornach's children would be able to accomplish what she can't, and of course, if you managed to free them, they would also have a reason for helping you. I cannot speak for all of them, but I'm certain that Taureth would indeed be grateful enough to help. He was never an aggressive character, more of a builder than a breaker. He's the oldest of the lot."

     "This card," I said, "was given into the custody of House Grendyn. Apparently it has had a rather large influence on that House, for they have met with a lot of bad luck and misery, which has made them from a Major and powerful House into one that has nigh dwindled into oblivion. Hence me being able to get hold of this card. My question is whether you think this is something that might have been happening with all the cards."

     "Again, I don't know anything for sure, but I have this feeling that things are coming to a head, and that the cards are to play a big part in it. They're all on the move."

     "Hmm. I've read some things about people trying to use the powers of this card to their own ends. Can you tell me anything about that?"

     "Like I already told you, the cards started changing after they had been made. The children's power tied itself into the power of their prisons, and without them really being aware of it they developed some limited control over their environment. This combination of power turned out to be highly volatile, making the cards into objects of great power that could eventually be used for other purposes. So much power is of course a cause for temptation, even for the most noble of minds when in times of trouble, but it was somehow tainted power. The decline and near fall of House Grendyn doesn't really come as a surprise to me. Of course the children's curse on the ones who constructed their prisons might also have affected the ones who were their guardians, but I can't be certain about that."

     "Since these cards are getting to be really important," I said," and since I hadn't heard anything about Ornach and his family up till now, I guess you'd better tell me something about all of the seven children and what their cards look like."

     "Well," Nisse said, "you already know about Taureth. The oldest of the lot, a builder. Second in line is Tiphane. Her card features a black spider on a white globe, which in a way already tells you something about her personality as well: a spider in her web, with a tremendous hunger for information and knowledge of any kind.

     "Next is Bihaye, whose card shows a black mask against the background of a white curtain. She was always the politician and the diplomat of the family, with some smackings of a demagogue as well. I can still remember some of her speeches after her father had been imprisoned. Rousing stuff.

     "I can't tell you too much about Geron, the next child, because I simply never really got to know him. He's a very cold and distant person. His card depicts a black and a white glove lying on a black and white checkered tile floor.

     "Malketh was always a bit of a rebel, the obstructive one. Her card shows a white orchid with black leaves, indicating her evident bond with lower life-forms like plants and such. Of all her siblings she is by far the most unorthodox in her methods and ideas.

     "Seren was the family's general during the War of the Eye. A man who only lives for the arts of war, which is why his card features a sword, half white and half black, stuck inside a black slab of stone.

     "Then finally there's Samal. A detestable figure, a degenerated pervert with no scruples about anything whatsoever. Quite unpredictable sometimes and blessed with an overwhelmingly strong charisma which he always ruthlessly uses to his own advantage. His card shows a black chain draped around a white column."

     "They're certainly a diverse lot," I remarked. "Do you happen to remember what became of all of their cards?"

     "No," he replied, "I only know that Malketh's card was given to House Allash and that for a long time Suhuy kept Samal's card in his own custody, but whether the cards are still in the same place after all these years is anybody's guess." Of course, by now Suhuy's name was quite familiar to me, and after some time I could also place House Allash: Mandor, Merlin's older stepbrother, was related to that House on his mother's side.

     "Can you give me any advice on what to do once I'm inside Taureth's card?" I asked.

     "It might be a good idea not to go alone," he said. "You probably won't have any powers at your disposal in there."

     "Well, Fiona is already inside."

     "Yes, and it seems that she already has quite some knowledge of the place. Stay in touch with her at all times. I can't really tell what things will look like in there. Taureth's builder nature always had him making new worlds and playing with them." He sighed. "Yes, it is time that the children were free again. Sadly I won't be there when it finally happens."

     "How come?" I asked, a bit alarmed at his statement.

     "Because of the Oath, of course." I look at him clearly failing to grasp his meaning and he shook his head. "It's not important," he said, "but perhaps it is time for you to go now." I glanced outside where the storm was still gathering in strength. The little cottage had started to creak alarmingly under the relentless force of the powerful gales.

     "How do I go back then?" I asked.

     "You know where you came from, don't you? You click your heels together three times and go home." Was he serious or just jerking me around? Before I could ask him anything else, though, Nisse walked to the bed in the corner and lay down. "I think I'll sleep now," he said and closed his eyes.

     Okay, that was that, class dismissed. Feeling very silly I did what he had told me and sure enough, the room started fading and within moments I was back in the asylum, Alexa's worried face hovering over me.

     "Are you alright?" she asked as I sat upright in my chair. I nodded, then my eye fell on the slumped form of Nisse. I got up to him and checked: no signs of life whatsoever.

     "Ehm, perhaps you'd better call a nurse," I said to Alexa, "this doesn't look good."

     "Whatever happened to him?" she asked. "You didn't..., did you?"

     "No, no, I didn't harm him in any way." Alexa hurried out of the room while I kept watch with Nisse. Poor bugger. He had apparently known what would happen if he broke his Oath and still he had told me everything irregardless of the consequences. Had it been bravery, a sense of justice, or had he just been tired of life? Perhaps a combination of these.

     Some moments later Alexa returned with two nurses, who could only confirm what I had already established for myself: Nisse was dead. The ladies were a bit sad about it, for he had been a long-time resident here with never many problems.

     While some of her colleagues were busy with the body of the deceased, one of the nurses came up to me, carrying a big and colourful book in her hands.

     "Excuse me, sir," she said, "but I couldn't help but notice that you are Lord Dorian, aren't you? Would you mind please signing your picture in my Adrian book?" Her Adrian book?? Despite my wish to remain incognito I was intrigued, so I took the book from her and started leafing through it. It was some kind of a fanclub publication, featuring an elaborately drawn portrait of Adrian on the first page, accompanied by lots of trivia information. This was followed by portraits of and info on Corwin and Alexander, with subsequent smaller sections for most of the other Amberites. I came across my own portrait with enough space reserved for my autograph. I glanced up at the eager face of the nurse, who as I saw now was sporting a pin in the shape of a flying deer with a stylised A rune. As she offered me a pen and urged me to sign the picture, I recalled that this flying deer looked a lot like what Adrian had told me of his Chaos form. Oh, what the hell, I signed the picture and even managed a smile for the girl, who simply beamed with pleasure.

     "It seems to be quite the rage nowadays," Alexa remarked as the young Adrian fan left the room. "My cook has also joined his fanclub."

     "Well, my cousin has been rather successful of late," I remarked off-handly. I wondered whether he knew anything about this fanclub business. Must mention it next time I saw him.

     "I managed to have a conversation with Nisse before he passed away," I said to Alexa on our way back to her estate, "and he told me a few things about the Trump. From what I've heard I don't think it would be wise for you to serve as its guardian any longer."

     "If you say so," she said demurely. "I guess I could hand it over to you."

     "That would seem best," I said. "I'd like to thank you, though, for everything you've done." She smiled and blushed a bit. "What are you going to do now?" I continued a bit worriedly. "I mean, things seem to be getting quite rough over here. How are you going to get through all that?"

     "Oh, I don't know. I have become rather used to wheedling my House through all kinds of troubles, so I think I'll be alright. Please, do be careful with the Trump. I hope you'll be spared all the bad luck that befell my family."

     We reached the mansion, where Alexa sent the carriage back to the rental agency. After courteously having kissed her hand to say goodbye, I asked whether she would mind if I kept her Trump a while longer. She said she didn't and was glad when I expressed my hopes of having a chance of talking to her again sometime. Watching her retreat into the old and somewhat neglected mansion, I felt a pang of remorse at not being able to be more open with her. Still, it couldn't be helped and perhaps there would come a day when I could tell her more about the hows and whys of the whole affair.

     From the Grendyn estate I hopped straight over to my children's pocket Shadow. After checking in on them and seeing they were fine, I warned Anna that I would be conducting some kind of serious experiment in the room where Aunt Fi's body lay and that I was not to be disturbed. Fiona was still everso peaceful in her impersonation of the sleeping beauty. I settled in a comfortable chair beside her bed, and with a slight feeling of anxiety I started concentrating on Taureth's Trump prison. As with my mental contact with Nisse, the room around me seemed to fade away, and shortly I found myself in an octangular room with alternating black and white walls. The whole room was absolutely filled with black spheres that floated around, but there was no sight of either Fiona or Taureth, of who I realised I didn't even know what he looked like.

     "Hello," I called, "Aunt Fiona?" My voice echoed strangely in this space, but there was no answer. I put my mind to work again, hoping that in this way I would be able to contact somebody, and I immediately noticed that one of my Trumps appeared to be active. Of course it was Fiona's card, but while I was shuffling through my deck I sensed that hers was the only card still working. So much for calling on outside assistance in case of trouble. We would have to find the way out all on our own.

     "Finally," Fi sighed as I touched her card, "it took you a long time. Okay, now take hold of my Trump on two sides and pull." I did as she told me and to my surprise the Trump started changing its shape until it had become some kind of bracelet.

     "Put it on," Fi said, "it will make it easier for us to keep in touch. I just put you directly in the root-directory, that will be easiest I guess."

     "I guess so," I replied, not really knowing what she was talking about. "So where do we go from here?"

     "Well, you have to get into one of these files. Which one it is I don't know yet, so we have to start looking for clues." She had barely said this when the sound of breaking glass resounded throughout te room, as almost each and every one of the spheres collapsed on the ground, leaving nothing but a lot of shards.

     "Is this what you had in mind?" I asked Fi.

     "No," she said, "there's something wrong with the whole system. Some kind of power failure."

      I looked around and saw that there was only one sphere remaining, but while I was looking at it, it started dividing itself in two.

     "Do you think it's safe for me to touch it?" I asked.

     "All of these globes are separate worlds," Fi explained. "Something must have happened to the Logrus just now, because all the worlds with Logrus elements have crashed. The only remaining one doesn't have any Logrus in its design." The one sphere had become two, and these two again started dividing, until there were four spheres grouped together like a little pyramid in the air.

     "I'm trying to find some information on these worlds," Fi said. "Can you describe to me what they look like?" I moved forward and regarded them closely. They were remarkably similar to the presse-papier I used as a link to my children's pocket Shadow, only much more detailed.

     "The top one shows a scene of a violent storm," I told Fiona, "the second one a weird terrain of alternating lightened and black areas, the third a dark and grey region, an the fourth, finally, a desert terrain."

     "Hmm, it looks like they're elemental worlds," she said. "They will have to serve as your way inside. Since they're all that's left of the original setup, a lot must have been centered within them. But first, tell me what you learned about this Trump."

     "Well, it was made by someone called Nisse, who was Suhuy's predecessor. It is a prison for a certain Taureth, son of Ornach, who has some control over an unknown power. Apparently his powers and those of the prison itself have mingled over the years and changed the appearance of the whole prison to fit its occupant." I deliberately refrained from telling her anything else about Ornach and Taureth. If she already knew about them it didn't really matter, but if she didn't she might object to us also helping him out of his prison. She showed no signs of recognizing either name, but with someone like Aunt Fiona one never can tell.

     "It could be that this Taureth subconsciously wants to assist us," she said. "The whole shape of these worlds still isn't all that familiar, but it must all be part of the setup. I don't know what the rules of the different worlds will be, but it looks like a classic quest scenario. Perhaps you will come across Taureth first on your way towards me, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

     "Alright, where shall I start then?"

     "Better take the world of air," she said, "the one with the storm." Well, from one storm into another. I didn't complain, however, but went straight in. I felt that I would need all my breath for this coming ordeal.

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