Chapter 074: Confrontation

"Even now you need to be reminded

That La Belle Dame is without mercy"

When She Comes - Van Der Graaf Generator

    Contrary to what I had come to expect from her, Miss Fabre remained rather subdued after I had ended my tale. She seemed to refrain from making any immediate observations concerning my suspicions or indeed the entire situation as I had just sketched for her. Perhaps it was all a bit too much for her to take in all at once; I had been familiar with the bigger scheme in our Reality for most of my adult years, and she had mentioned during our first encounter that only a few people in Quendor were even aware about the existence and relevance of Amber and Chaos, so even her knowledge might have been severely limited. Well, it would take some getting used to, no doubt.

    The thing she did comment on was the list of names that had first led me to her doorstep. These were the people she had met when Malachie had organized his little get-togethers, and she would certainly be able to take me to a few of them. We might not be in time, though: if there were indeed some competitors about, as our failure last night seemed to suggest, they might have already visited some of the others too, probably having dealt with them in much the same way as they had done with poor Solkon. There was, however, one person on the list who wasn't at all that easy to get to and who Miss Fabre herself might have a bit more easily access to. This was Flauron of Grahl, who as she explained to me was a member of an Altra House in the Courts of Chaos. In the course of her work for Brand she had spent some time doing research with the Altra, and although this was quite a while ago, she might still have some contacts there that would facilitate a meeting with this Flauron. The Altra were a rather private people, though, and even with an introduction it wouldn't be easy to get to the right person.

    To my question whether there were any other Chaosians on the list she replied that Melkoth of Sandwick was one too; Sandwick was apparently one of the numerous Minor Houses in the Courts, and a quite unremarkable one at that, since I had never heard of it before. She had to think a little about the other names, saying that it had been quite a few years since she had seen them and then only a couple of times. The enigmatically named H7520 she remembered as a person that they had only conversed with over a computer link. She had never actually met him or her in person, and she could neither say what they looked like nor where they might live. Nostradamus had been a friendly fellow, she said, which nearly had me at the point of making a remark, but at the last moment I hesitated. The Nostradamus of Earth that I had heard of had been long dead, but Rinaldo had also wondered about this fact at the time we had first found the list. I decided to postpone any queries about him until we would go and pay him a visit. Who knows, he might still be alive and well.

    Miss Fabre had even met Nisse during her brief spell with the team, but he had been very old even then, and it hadn't surprised her to hear that he had passed away. Devoli of Chianit was someone she recalled with a deep sense of loathing. She described him as a dreadful young fellow, whose brains had seemed to reside somewhere between his legs instead of any higher physical regions. Miss Fabre said that she had not understood what he had been doing at those sessions, and true enough most of the time he had been flirting with the other member she had had her doubts about, namely Guadela of Jidrash, a right tart if her judgement was anything to go by. She had to think hard to recall any Mormu of Kessanar, but ultimately she concluded that he must have been that quiet unassuming little man that had been present too, which was just about all she could tell me about him. She added that even though this was quite an important case that we were working on, she was happy to be involved again. It had always remained a bit of unfinished business to her. I nodded and smiled. Perhaps I would manage to see her as an equal partner in this after all.

    Now that Miss Fabre was completely informed of what was at stake in this project of ours, it as time to bring my other associate up to date. I explained to her about Trumping cousin Murlas (never brother, not in public), and said that I might have to go through to him for a bit. Of course, I would be back as soon as possible. She remarked a bit scornfully that this had also been my intention the last time around, but she was happy that this time I at least had the courtesy of telling her where I was going. I was probably never going to live it down.

    Reaching Murlas took a bit of concentration, but when contact was made it soon gained in strength. Yes, he had some time to talk to me, but as I had expected he'd rather do it at his end. So, I stepped through to a dark and rather Spartan chamber in what couldn't be anything other than Ysarn Ways. As Murlas led me to a more private room, I noticed that his Ways favoured a more Amber-like style and that there was hardly any sign of truly weird Chaosian furnishing or decorations. The place was far from cheerful, though, and I would be happy to be elsewhere soon.

    "Let's see," I began when we were seated. "There's quite a bit I have got to tell you."

    "I am all ears."

    "Okay, well, I've been to Quendor and have talked to the Janice from the list. She used to study under Brand when he was a professor at the university there, working on prophecies and that kind of thing. She did some research for him as well. It turned out that his study at the university had been left warded, and we just recently managed to get past these wards, only to find that someone had outsmarted us, by means of a simple yet effective hole in the wall." I reached inside my jacket and showed him the photograph of Flora in her secretary disguise, complete with bowling trophy.

    "Yes," he mused with just a hint of scorn as he studied the picture, "there is always an easy way of doing things, is there not?"

    "I guess so," I replied neutrally. I would liked to have seen him come up with a plan like that. However, it was better not to go against him too much, not while there were certain things I wanted him to go along with. "Anyway," I continued, "this has some further implications. Between the moment of my first arrival in Quendor and our actual attempt at getting into Brand's room there was quite a bit of time, largely because of the war between Sherwyn and Galoria. I don't know how much you've heard about all that."

    "Oh, all kinds of interesting things."

    "I'm sure. I got personally involved in it because they decided on marching right through Cardane, which I couldn't allow of course."

    "And you managed to stop them quite effectively, did you not?" Ah, so he had heard. Well, of course my actions had caused quite some ripples in our little pond, so undoubtedly most of the higher folk in the Courts were in the know about what had transpired in Cardane.

    "Yes, I did," I said. "However, I strongly suspect that our dear auntie had been aware of my presence in Quendor, and somehow I find it a bit too coincidental that they just had to plot the army's course right through Cardane while they could have gone around it without too much real trouble." I caught his doubtful glance and quickly plunged on before he could voice his objections: "Let's just say that the margin that Flora beat us by could be numbered in days rather than weeks or months. It might just have been those few days that I was busy defending Cardane." Murlas nodded once; this was indeed too coincidental.

    "Of course, there had to be some Amberites involved," he pondered, "as always. Tell me, what is the relation between Flora on the one hand and Rinaldo and Martin on the other? I never figured there to be one, but perhaps you can enlighten me on this point." He was of course working from the assumption that aside from the two of us only Rinaldo and Martin had seen the entire list.

    "I have a suspicion about that," I admitted, "but it's nothing I can substantiate with any proof, just a hunch that I have."

    "That does not matter. I am also interested in hunches."

    "You are also interested in hunches." Of course he was. Anything to keep me talking, eh bro? "Okay, when I was on the Overshadow, I had a fortunately brief encounter with a certain lady, who I learned to be the mother of Melusine. She had some nasty plans in mind involving Martin, aparently in order to keep her daughter a bit more in line. I can't shake the feeling that this lady may in fact be no one else but Flora, but as I said there is no firm evidence for this."

    "This would make an alliance between them seem less likely, however," he mused. "It would appear that we have two groups of opponents."

    "That is the question. At the moment Martin and Rinaldo are our opponents..."

    "They have kept remarkably quiet, have they not?"

    "I haven't heard from them in quite a while, but that doesn't mean all that much. They might have been busy visiting some other people on the list. I have only been to Quendor, and while we know that Solkon was murdered in Rebma, we don't now anything about what has happened to the others."

    "That is true," Murlas conceded. "And then there is the question: who is supporting what cause? It may be that Flora is engaged in an investigation of her own, or she may actually be suppressing the evidence."

    "I think I want to put that to the test," I ventured hesitantly. "By confronting her directly, I mean." He was quiet for a while, assessing the pros and cons.

    "It is a method that often proves successful," he said at long last. As long as I was going to do the confronting, it was all fine by him. But the more I thought about it, the more it felt as something I had to do. I simply had to know.

    "If she allows me to peruse the material, I'll peruse it," I said lightly. "If not, I'll draw my own conclusions. And if anything should happen to me, you know where to look for me."

    "It would seem wise, indeed, to notify some people of one's plans if one is about to head into possible danger," Murlas said with a slight smile. Oh, that formal way of talking of his...

    "There is something else I had been thinking of too. It might be useful to reconsider our attitude towards Rinaldo and Martin. Perhaps we could try and find out what they've been up to; try and see what side they would seem to be on. I know Martin was much in favour of putting all of Brand's research to the torch, but perhaps he can be reasoned with. And Rinaldo seemed more pragmatic to begin with." He frowned.

    "There is another slight problem if we are to approach the two of them. If we are to re-establish communications, they will undoubtedly want to see those notes the two of us appropriated on the Overshadow, and I gave my half to Samal for safe-keeping."

    "I don't see the problem there...," I began.

    "Samal is missing," he interjected curtly. "He has been gone for quite a while, and frankly I do not know where he hid those papers. It seemed safer at the time."

    "Okay... That makes sense I guess."

    "He has probably been imprisoned somewhere in Galoria," Murlas added.

    "In Galoria?" I recalled Alexander telling me something about Murlas having been attacked by some unknown party while staying there as an observer to the war, but there had been no mention of Samal. Also, Alex had said that Murlas' shape shifting had gone haywire and that he had been taking back to the Courts by his fellow diplomat Grendel Escallwyn, who had possibly been the one to attack him in the first place. The fact that Murlas had been back in Ysarn Ways when I had called him, and ostensibly in good health too, would suggest that he had completely recovered from his ordeal. Either that, or Alex's story had not entirely been true. I realised that while it was easy to sit back and let Alexander just pour his information over me, it didn't mean that I shouldn't remain critical of the things he said. I would pay better attention in future.

    "Have you spoken to Samal's family?" I asked. "To Ornach perhaps?"

    "Ornach is quite inscrutable," he replied with just the hint of a sigh.

    "And the circumstances in Galoria were such that...?" I continued, but he cut me short again.

    "He disappeared during an attempt on my life," he said darkly. Knowing the way Samal and he felt about each other, it wasn't hard to understand him being rather bad-tempered over this matter.

    "Well, even without your half of the notes we should be able to work out something," I said soothingly, going back to our original topic. "We have both read the lot of them, so we should be able to reproduce the general drift of it."

    "That is rather a matter of trust," he said, meaning Martin and Rinaldo of course.

    "It cuts both ways. If we are going to reunite over this, it means that we shall also have to trust them to a certain extent."

    "True. Still: `you may collaborate, you just cannot read the notes'?"

    "They can have a look at my half if they want to," I said, knowing that this would be next to useless. We had, after all, taken the trouble to divide the papers between us in such a way that you would need both halves to make any sense of it.

    "I guess it is fine by me, but if I were you I would first talk to Flora." Hmm, that hadn't been my original plan, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense to me. This whole business was comprised of so much vagueness and so many unknowns, and I felt that Flora could at least give us some certainties, one way or the other. "Perhaps she would not mind working with us," Murlas continued, "in which we hardly need to contact Martin and Rinaldo, do we? I would say that in that case they would be more of a liability than an asset." He had a point, yet I figured that he might just be very reluctant to go back to them because it would imply us having been wrong in taking the papers from them in the first place. Personally, I had very little qualms about owning up a mistake like that, especially since the matter was potentially so very important, but then I didn't stand at the head of a Major House in the Courts of Chaos.

    "I must say, though," I mused, "that if we are going to trust anyone else in this, I'd much rather trust someone of my own generation than one of our elders."

    "One should think that the chances of our elders being..." He hesitated. "On the other hand..."

    "You never know," I sighed. I may have had certain insights in the personalities of the likes of Caine and Deirdre, but most of their generation were closed books to me. The way that Benedict had behaved during the assault on Cardane, for instance, made me feel that I hardly knew him at all.

    "Yes, even they would..." He trailed off again, then continued: "I was contemplating who would willingly choose to turn themselves against Amber. I can understand anyone wanting to seize power there, but to want to destroy Amber itself, which all of this hints at, with outside help...?"

    "I'm not sure. It may sound crazy, but it might be something as simple as pure boredom. Don't forget how very old they all are. While in Cardane, I had a chance to witness Benedict in action, and I thought I sensed a certain delight in him when it came to confrontations and danger and such."

    "It is possible," he grudgingly admitted. "However, why can't they all be bored in some other Reality than this one?" Meaning that he was far from bored himself as it was, and that like me he would perhaps prefer things to be a little quieter.

    "It would be nicer, certainly. It's only one way of looking at it, though. I just mentioned it to show that I try to keep an open mind."

    "Alright, but our conclusion would seem to be that we have reached a dead end in our investigation and that we do not really know how to continue, am I right?"

    "Oh no, it's not as bad as all that. Sure, the Quendor archive has eluded us, which is rather awkward, but Janice has met most of the others on the list herself and knows where to locate at least some of them. This would give us a certain lead, I think. You have to remember that Quendor is rather a central Shadow, and that as such it is known to a lot of people. It is also a place where Brand, Bleys, and Fiona spent a good deal of time, and where other relatives came to visit them, so we can assume that its whereabouts were general knowledge. Some of the other Shadows where the people on the list reside may not be so well-known."

    "So, some of the other names on the list belong to people who might still be alive?"

    "Could very well be. However, I suggest that we make some haste. In fact, there is something that you might look into. According to Janice there are two people on the list who should be living here in the Courts. One of them, Flauron of Grahl, will be hard to come in contact with, since his House belongs to the Altra. Janice herself has some ties with them from having done some research among the Altra when she was studying with Brand, so she might be able to get in touch with them. The other Chaosian, however, is one Melkoth of Sandwick, Sandwick being one of the many Minor Houses here. Janice was pretty sure that we would be able to reach Flauron before anyone else would have a chance, but this Melkoth is another matter. Perhaps you could try and find out whether he is still alive or not."

    "I shall have some people look into it," he said calmly. "Does this Janice require some further assistance? I assume that she will not be able to travel beyond Quendor that easily, will she?"

    "No, but I'll pick her up myself. On the other hand, if I don't show up for some time, you might want to go and talk to her yourself. Her full name is Janice Fabre and she runs a private bureau dealing in magical consultancy, which you will be able to find in any of the local directories. But if I don't show up, you'll know I'm at Flora's." I regarded him a bit appraisingly, before I added: "There's one other name I'd better mention as well, although I'm not exactly sure about the how and why of this person's involvement. It concerns a certain Lothair."

    "Never heard of him before," he said with a frown. Pity. I'd rather hoped that he would have.

    "I ran into him twice recently," I continued. "First time was in Quendor, at the mansion of the Lablanche family, which is Fiona and Bleys's alias over there. I had expected to see at least one of them when I came calling, but instead Lothair was there. He is definitely not of the Amber Family, but he does have some other powers, quite like the ones that Azrain had." This really made him sit up and pay attention, as I had guessed it would. Yes, he was interested, but unfortunately I felt that he knew less about this matter than I did.

    "The same powers as Azrain?" he asked. "What is this exactly?"

    "I only know what Fiona told me about Azrain, that he could somehow tap into all kinds of powers and use their raw energies at a very basic level. A pretty effective approach, though."

    "And this Lothair could do the same thing?"

    "Yes, at first I sensed he could, and later I actually saw him do it. Our second encounter was in Cardane, where he was on the side of the army that had come from Sherwyn. His entire role in that confrontation was rather odd, I think."

    "Does he actually hail from this Reality?"

    "I have no idea, but if that whole army really came from a different one, as it is rumoured, then he may just as well be an alien too."

    "Yet he was not part of the actual army, was he?"

    "Not as such, but he was one of its commanders. When Benedict had him at sword point, he was able to call off the whole thing with one Trump contact, so he must have been pretty high up in the hierarchy. Someone to be wary of at the very least. Should you meet him by any chance, you now have some idea of whom you'd be dealing with."

    "An interesting man," Murlas mused, seemingly already planning this future encounter. The fact that he had not known about Lothair, however, had assuaged some of the doubts that Alexander had stirred in me concerning Murlas possible traiterous alliance with the aliens. Either he was nowhere near as much in league with them as Alex had claimed, or he was much too good an actor for me to see through his act. Just on this off-chance I decided to pass him my last bit of advice before I left, about the one matter that I was sure he truly cared about.

    "If you're really worried about Samal," I said, rising from my chair, "you might want to consider taking the matter up with his brother Taureth. Ornach may be as inscrutable as ever, but I've found his oldest son is easier to deal with, and the family ties in that House are very, very strong."

    "It is a good idea," he said softly, genuinely taken aback by my free advice. "And yes, I had already noticed those strong ties." Alright, I guess he had been sincere with me, or at least as sincere as he ever was going to be. Find your lover then, brother, and be happy, but also remember piece of advice, although it was unasked for. Perhaps I was merely trying to smoothe the way between us for that moment when he would find out the truth, I pondered as I Trumped out to Ygg and from there teleported myself back to Miss Fabre's apartment. Well, never mind, the advice had not cost me anything, and a happy Murlas was altogether more agreeable than an unhappy one.

    While I had surprised Miss Fabre the previous time by staying away much too long, this time she was taken aback by my impossibly swift return, for it seemed that only a minute or so had passed since I had Trumped out. Apparently, time in the Courts was once again streaming by much more rapidly than anywhere else, as it periodically would. It was rather convenient this time, but if you were not careful it could lead to some very unpleasant surprises. Chaosians had a way of sensing these things, I believed, and it was yet another of these special senses that had not fully developed in us Amberites, much like the shape shifting ability. With time I also might learn this trick, perhaps.

    After having informed Miss Fabre of the outcome of my conversation with Murlas and having shown his Trump on the off-chance that he would come to meet her, I wasted no time but immediately proceeded to the next step of our investigation. I first tried Amber, but the early morning servants (it was about seven a.m. around there) told me that Princess Flora had been absent from the Castle for some while now with no known further address, so I had to resort to her own Trump. I was surprised when she answered the call dressed in only the tiniest of bikinis, lying in a deckchair at the side of a glittering pool. The sunglasses, sun-shade, and exotic drink completed the holiday picture.

    "My dear aunt," I began, "I believe we have something to discuss."

    "Oh, really?" she asked innocently, her eyes conveniently hidden behind her shades.

    "Yes. It had better be done face to face, though, so if you permit me?"

    "By all means." She gracefully extended her hand and helped me through into a heat several degrees above what I had either been used to or was dressed for. The pool was located in the large and luxurious garden of the sort of mansion that all of my aunts and uncles seem to prefer in Shadow, and this one apparently happened to be in a tropical zone too. Already sweating, I removed my jacket of the Quendor suit that I was still wearing and sat down while Flora ordered another tropical concoction from the servants in a rapid language that I was quite unfamiliar with. The drink seemed less than appealing to me: a bizarre ruddy-pinkish mixture of several ingredients, one of which was akin to pineapple, or so I thought. Somehow I wasn't at all fond of cocktails, whether they had little colourful umbrellas sticking out of them or not. Flora caught my doubtful look and inquired whether I wouldn't like anything else. A cup of coffee perhaps? Yes, that suited me better, so a few moments later I was sipping a hot black cup of special brew.

    "Better?" she asked.

    "Much." I didn't answer her smile, though. "I'll get right to the point," I said firmly. "I believe you have certain papers in your possession that I would like to take a look at."

    "I have?" She seemed genuinely surprised, but I gave her a look that told her I was not to be taken in that easily. "What makes you think that I have these papers of yours?" she asked innocently.

    "They're not my papers, as you well know, but I still want to see them. As for my knowledge, there is evidence that you have them. Witnesses to you having been there."

    "What are you talking about?" she sighed dramatically. "Been where?" The sigh made her chest heave, and the pronounced movement of her all too revealing bikini top drew my gaze from her face to her fine figure. I took another sip of coffee to hide my sudden discomfort. I had probably never seen her more naked than this, and she didn't have this reputation of being the most beautiful woman in Amber for nothing. Of course she was my aunt and all that, but  once the imagination has been stirred it's very hard to turn it from its course.

    "Quendor." I managed to sound firm despite my discomfort, forcing my eyes back towards the unyielding pair of shades.

    "Quendor? Well, I have been there of course, but that was quite some time ago. I'll never forget that horrendous party that Bleys threw. Really, those friends of his. Sometimes he can be so vulgar." With a consciously neutral expression I reached into my pocket and handed her the picture we'd found at the university. "Is that supposed to be me?" she cried aghast. "It's simply disgusting. Who is responsible for this slanderous filth, this indignity? Quendor, eh? It must be one of those horrid pranks of Bleys's! Will he simply never grow up? This is really beyond all good sense!"

    She went on in this vein for several minutes, but somehow I wasn't very impressed with her performance. It was quite impossible to gauge her true feelings beyond what she was projecting, but it all seemed a bit too artificial, too Flora. The more she said, the more I had the feeling that she had indeed taken Brand's notes from his study and was indeed in league with the enemy, whoever they were. I realised that I had wanted her not to be. The thought saddened me.

    Suddenly she halted her tirade and regarded me over the rim of her shades. "Dorian," she said reprovingly, "you look as if you don't believe me."

    "I do? I wonder how that could be?" Too easily the hurt turned to sarcasm.

    "I know such distrust is common practise in our Family, and it's a healthy attitude too, but you know me, don't you? Do you really think I would ever wear such a tasteless outfit?" she asked, holding the photo up beside her for comparison. I looked at her bikini and shrugged; for all the forbidden passions it stirred in me, the thing was too tiny really to aspire to something like good taste.

    "I'm not sure what to think anymore," I said quietly.

    "Oh, everyone always assumes the worst. What kind of papers are you on about?" she asked, frustration creeping into her voice. "What is this all about?" I shook my head.

    "If you really don't know, it's better that I don't tell you."

    "That's hardly very polite, is it? You come here and accuse me of all kinds of things," (another dramatic glance at the photo) "and then you won't even tell me what it is that I'm accused of." I was silent for a moment, then I sighed.

    "No, it's not very polite at all. I'm sorry."

    "I'm sorry too," she said, more softly than before, and something in her tone of voice made me look up. As I did, the blazing sun overhead infringed upon the edge of my vision, making all things become hazier and hazier, until they faded into blackness. The last thing that I saw before I sank down into a dark and troubled state of unconsciousness was Flora's seemingly genuine expression of regret. I should never have accepted that cup of coffee.

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