Chapter 081: Random Encounters

"A word in your ear from father to son

Funny, you don't hear a single word I say"

Father to Son - Queen

            "Dorian!" Random exclaimed happily, his face flushed and a few drops of  sweat standing out on his forehead. Apparently, I had caught him during his favourite work-out. He was more than willing to make time for me, though. "You're back."

            "Yes. I'm actually in your study at the moment. If you'd care to join me...?"

            "Sure." The King put aside his drumsticks, got up from behind his kit, dragged a towel across his face, and clasped my outstretched hand to appear before us in a haze of rainbow shimmers. His smile swiftly changed to an expression of bemused curiosity when he turned and took in the scene before him: Melusine gently restraining Martin in one corner, Galoran and the little boy slumped in a couple of chairs, both still naked and covered in alien slime, and finally Fabian, looking confused and decidedly ill at ease. It was a good thing we had not arrived in Random's study right in the middle of some kind of meeting, I felt, or at least several kinds of hell might have broken loose. Of course, the sight of Fabian really came as the biggest shock to him, and after simply staring at him for a second or two the King speechlessly turned to me for some answers.

            "As you can see," I began, "there's quite a story to tell. However, perhaps it would be wise to make some arrangements for Galoran and the child first. The circumstances we found them in may warrant some further medical care."

            "Yes, of course," he mumbled. "Do you reckon they need to be guarded?"

            "We'd better have someone keep an eye on them, especially on the boy. We need to question him later."

            "Okay," Random said. He pulled a cord to summon a few servants, and then walked over to the window and tore down some curtains which he wrapped around both Galoran and the boy. "Meant to have these replaced one of these days anyway," he muttered. When the servants arrived we made sure that they did not catch sight of Fabian, for we couldn't have any rumours start circulating through the castle at such an early stage. At my suggestion Random ordered up some bread, cheese and fruit, as well as a few bottles of wine for us to partake of while we talked, until finally he could tell the servants that he was not to be disturbed by anyone for the next few hours or so. At last we were all seated and ready to begin.

            "And who is this?" Fabian whispered to me before I'd had time really to start my story.

            "King Random of Amber," I replied. Fabian nodded cheerfully.

            "Ah," he said, sticking out his hand, "I'm Fabian. Pleased to meet you." Random looked from Fabian to me and back, but he made no move to take his outstretched hand. Fabian glanced a bit sheepishly in my direction and I tried to give him a reassuring nod. He really didn't know any better.

            "I think I'd better start with Fabian here," I said to Random. "He is who you think him to be."

            "You're sure?" Random asked, studying Fabian very closely.

            "I am. Only, he believes himself to be this person called Fabian. I've met him in another Reality, where I was held prisoner for some time. In fact, how long have I actually been gone?"

            "What's the last more or less public event you've been involved in?" Random asked in return. I guess it was just too damn hard for him to keep track of each and every relative all of the time.

            "How about the battle for Cardane? How long ago is that?"

            "Just over a month," he replied. Hmm, that more or less agreed with the amount of time that seemed to have passed for me. Could have been much worse.

            "Alright," I continued, "Fabian was a prisoner in that other place as well, and it seemed better to bring him along and check out his true identity than to leave him there and risk not finding him again. I guess you're curious to know who our jailer was, aren't you?"

            "Oh no, I already know that." He smiled when he saw my look of mild surprise. "Flora, right? Caine has already told me a few things about her. For that matter, it might be better for me to inform you of some of the things that have happened around here in your absence, since it may make it easier for you to tell your part. Caine was at a certain point alerted by Murlas, who apparently had some suspicions concerning Flora and who decided to pass these on. Subsequently, Caine went out alone to investigate, for he felt he needed some further confirmation before uttering any kind of public accusations against Flora. So, he managed to witness her having contact with the enemy in Sherwyn; with some assistance from Adrian this matter was dealt with. Next, Caine reported back to me, and I believe that Adrian will corroborate his story. In any case, he had at that point information from several sources, which led him to believe that Flora might have done away with you as well, in a more or less permanent way."

            Okay, so Murlas had not entirely been idle while I had been tied up. Actually, calling on Caine might have been one of the best things he could have done, and in the prison I had been in I could hardly have hoped for anyone to come and rescue me. As it was, I had been lucky that Melusine had been there and that she had been open to some persuasion.

            "Alright," I said, "you seem to know most of the what, but I've still got some answers to the why for you, courtesy of Melusine here." She didn't look very happy when I mentioned her name, but as much as I felt for her, there was no way I could spare her this. For the kind of information I was trading in I really needed a source, and she was the only one available. "I take it you're not yet aware of the fact that she's Flora's daughter, are you?" I said to Random.

            "No," he replied thoughtfully, "although it does clarify certain matters. Go on."

            "Well, there's no easy way to say it. Flora's quarrel is not so much with Amber as with you in person."

            "And what have I ever done to her?" he asked, quite surprised. "Okay, I may have ruined some of her rugs, but that was a long time ago..."

            "That's not the main thing," I sighed. "Those were the little things that may have contributed to her dislike of you. Apparently, she never voiced those feelings, but let them grow stronger and stronger in silence..."

            "There was that little affair with her maid," Random mused pensively, "but that lasted only a short while..."

            "She mainly blames you for what has happened to Algo," I cut in, sharply. Random gave me a mildly confused look.

            "Algo?" he exclaimed. "I personally introduced that boy to the world!"

            "Exactly. And because of that she believes you've ruined him for her purposes."

            Random couldn't help himself: he threw his head back and literally roared with laughter. "You're kidding me, right? Take it from me, there was very little in Algo for me left to ruin." I could understand his amusement, in a way, but sadly enough the matter called for much more seriousness.

            "There's an additional fact you need to know in relation to this," I said, and I took a pen and a piece of paper from his desk to write down who Algo's Amberite parent really was. No need to share such information with either Fabian or Martin (if the latter did not already know). Unfortunately, this only increased Random's merriment, and for a few moments he couldn't do anything but laugh. When he had calmed down a bit, I said in a soft voice: "It would all be very amusing, if it were not for the fact that these facts made her commit certain nasty acts, one of which being her inducing those miscarriages in Vialle." That helped to bring him down to earth very quickly indeed.

            "Is there any proof of this?" he demanded in an icy voice. I glanced over at Melusine.

            "Don't look at me," she muttered, looking very uncomfortable. Random was doing just that, however, and he would not relent. Martin, sitting beside her, shook his head, once.

            "Probably not," he said, his voice only just betraying a nervous waver. Still Random would not look away, until finally Melusine simply cracked.

            "Alright," she cried, "she did it! I know she did it! There isn't any proof, but I know. Okay?" She gave Random a half defiant, half pleading look. He regarded her sternly for a few more seconds, then he gave a hint of a nod and let her off the hook, for a few moments at least.

            "That is your side of the story," he said to me. "Now I want to know how much you knew of all of this." He fixed his eyes firmly on Martin, who squirmed a bit uneasily in his seat.

            "Not all that much," he replied slowly. "I had a suspicion that Flora might be Melusine's mother, that was all."

            "That was all...," Random echoed hollowly. "A suspicion? How strong a suspicion?"

            "A rather strong suspicion, yes." Martin looked decisively unhappy under his father's relentless glare.

            "We'll discuss this later," Random said, his voice dripping with anger and disappointment. He appeared to be very upset with Martin for having withheld this information, more so than with me, even though I had not immediately volunteered my findings to him either. Of course, Martin was his own son, but all the same I felt he was perhaps being a bit too harsh on him.

            "I don't think it matters very much at this point," I ventured. "If Martin had any suspicions at all, it must have been too late to prevent Flora from committing these crimes. Anyway, it seems she had some ties with Galoran and those others in Galoria, for she apparently has some control over the Nexus. And she has been in contact with `the Enemy'."

            "She's not in Amber at the moment," Random said. It figured.

            "And as I said, Fabian was her other prisoner. That was actually the main reason why I caught on to her."

            "Yes, Fabian...," he mused. "How long?"

            "You mean how long has he been her prisoner? Well, I can't be sure, but I'd say a little over a year in local time, so perhaps a bit more in Amber reckoning. I don't know the precise how or why of it, but I do know that she was doing her utmost to suppress and/or steal certain of Brand's private notes."

            "What kind of notes were these?" he asked with a frown. This was part of the story that he was entirely unfamiliar with. I hesitated for a moment, but I had to come clean now, if ever. He had a right to know what might be at stake here, for it also might affect any decisions he was going to make concerning Fabian.

            "It seems that Brand spend quite some time studying a number of prophecies dealing with something or some people commonly referred to as the Wolves," I explained. "He felt that these were going to present a great danger to Amber and perhaps to our entire Reality."

            "Hmm." His frown turned more pensive. I could not be sure, but I didn't think he had heard the Wolves mentioned before. "Do you think these prophecies might have anything to do with our current situation?" he asked. "With `the Enemy', so to speak?"

            The possibility had crossed my mind a few times, actually, but I could only give him my own honest answer. "I don't know. Could be. If not, though, then it might refer to something else that is still to come."

            "What do you know of these prophecies?" Random asked Fabian, but as was to be expected his only response was one of surprise and confusion.

            "Sorry," he said, "but this is the first I hear of this."

            "Just to be clear about this," I cut in again, "Fabian believes himself to be a Lord of Chaos from the Reality where we found him. He has had several dreams with recurring shreds of our Brand's memories. And yes, upon our arrival back in our Reality I established that he is indeed our Brand."

            "Which is proof enough for me," Martin muttered darkly.

            "Which led Martin here to conclude immediately that he'd better die there and then," I added. That was enough to let his temper flare again.

            "I did not draw any conclusions!" he snapped. "Brand signed his own death warrant a long time ago, all by himself."

            "You know how I feel about this," I said calmly.

            "Yes, I do. But it wasn't your blood running over the Pattern, was it?" He stiffly turned to Random and said: "I would like to know when you plan to hold the execution."

            "Hold on there a minute!" Fabian exclaimed, looking more than a little anxious. "Listen, I have no idea why this guy here dislikes me all this much, but I haven't done anything and I don't like this sudden talk of executions. It doesn't sound like something I'd enjoy."

            "And it might just set an awkward precedent," I added, glancing at Random. He shook his head, though.

            "It's not that easy," he said. "If Brand had survived the War, he would almost certainly have been executed."

            "Then, yes, quite probably. But I do believe that we may not have the luxury of doing without him."

            "Look," Fabian said, "it was never my intention to make everybody quite so nervous, so perhaps I should just go back where I came from, perhaps that's the best for everyone involved..."

            "I'm afraid not," I said softly. As much as I'd come to like him as Fabian, once we had established his true identity there was no turning back. He looked at me with both fright and anger in his eyes.

            "Did you know this was going to happen?" he demanded. "You told me we were going to find out who I really was, okay, I could go along with that, but you didn't mention anything about executions, did you?"

            "I'd rather hoped it wouldn't come to that," I said, realising that I should have known better. In his absence my relatives' hate and distrust of Brand could only have grown, until they had made him into an icon of everything that was wrong with the Family. Of course Martin would not be the only one to argue for, no demand, his execution.

            "There'll be no executions till I've consulted with the entire Family," Random said sternly, in what I recognised as his `Kingly' tone of voice. Martin glared at him, but if Random minded he didn't show it. "Until such time," he said to Fabian, "you will remain our guest. But let there be no misunderstandings between us: for your own health and safety I suggest you had better stay in Amber."

            "Oh, perfect!" Fabian griped. "I'm just supposed to sit and wait till you decide to execute me anyway, is that it?" I sighed. He should be happy Random did not kill him on the spot, but then I knew he did not remember any of the things he'd done as Brand, so his reactions should not have come as such a surprise.

            "As I said before," I muttered, "I still hope it won't come to that."

            "You hope," he snorted. I sighed once more. There wasn't much else I could do.

            We waited in silence for the guards Random had summoned to take Fabian away. There would be no attempts at keeping his presence a secret any longer; since the rest of the Family would be informed of his reappearance soon enough, there was little reason to go to the trouble to suppress the inevitable rumours. As soon as Fabian had been escorted out, I poured myself another glass of wine and proceeded to tell Random about our adventures in the Nexus during the final lap of our journey home, including its changed colour, its new inhabitants, and our rescue of Galoran.

            "And then Martin showed up in that interesting vehicle of his to pick us up," I concluded, taking another sip of wine.

            "Yeah," Martin said, a little eager for a chance to redeem himself a bit in his father's eyes, "it's quite a thing, a sort of spaceship for travelling between the Realities. Quite convenient, really."

            "And you've parked it here in Amber, I hope?" Random asked.

            "Well, I'd only borrowed it from..." Martin hesitated, then repeated a bit more firmly: "I'd only borrowed it."

            "You did, did you?" Random's stare again made his son squirm uneasily in his seat.

            "Well, grandma didn't mind me taking it for a spin," he finally confessed.

            "Hmm," Random said, "she told you so, did she? So that thing is in Rebma. And is it Rebma's property too?"

            "It is now."

            "And how exactly did you know where you would be able to find these good people?"

            "I had a hunch, you might say," Martin replied levelly. Although he seemed perfectly aware that his father wasn't exactly pleased with him, he also seemed determined not to say or do anything that might look like a compromise or an acknowledgement of Random's authority. Call it anger at Random's reluctance to sentence Brand to an immediate death, call it just general youthful rebellion against his father, either way he was slowly getting himself deeper into trouble, and everyone present knew it.

             He and Random continued to stare at each other darkly across the desk.

            "Just before he totally lost consciousness Galoran mentioned something about having ordered us a cab," I said, breaking the tense silence. "I thought he was either joking or simply delirious, but personally I would not hazard to guess at the limits of what that man can or cannot do with the Nexus." The tension between the King and his son lingered a moment or so longer, but then Martin turned away and started to pour himself another glass of wine. Random let out an inaudible sigh and looked at me.

            "Why can't things ever be quiet and peaceful around here?" he asked.

            I smirked. "You want quiet and peaceful? You should try a fortnight or so in a prison cell. It's all the peace and quiet you'll ever need."

            He was far from amused. "You're not the only one to have spent time in prison," he said sharply. "In fact, you should count yourself lucky with it only having been a fortnight for you. Try four years with your eyes seared out if you're so keen."

            He was right of course, so I gave a tiny nod to show myself sufficiently scolded. "But you're right," I said, "it's another one of those fine messes again. So what are you going to do about it?"

            "I'm not sure yet," he replied, staring at his desk, on which various reports and files demanded his attention. They would have to wait, though. "I need to ascertain just how important this information is." He looked at me sharply.

            "Would you try to restore his memory?" he asked.

            "Not right away, no."

            "And you don't think this amnesia might be an act, do you?"

            "We would have noticed by now. I don't rightly know what has happened to him, but..." I shrugged.

            "He's not at all like the Brand I know," Random said. "He's so... timid. Brand was always quite arrogant. And violent too, at times. He could be really aggressive. Then at other times he would be quite friendly and charming. Well, in a similar way as Bleys really, you know. But like this? Do you reckon someone might have been messing with his head?"

            "Could be, but I've no way to be sure. During the time when we were both imprisoned Melusine was our only visitor."

            "I must say, if this is Flora's handiwork, I have really underestimated her all of these years."

            "As may all of us have, I think." I emptied my glass and gave him a helpful and determined smile. "Maybe it helps to do something first that can easily be done. We could, for instance, go and see whether Galoran's awake and ask him how he ended up a prisoner in his own Nexus."

            "Maybe we should," Random nodded. He glanced at the other two. Martin was still scowling and Melusine did not look very happy either, but both indicated that they were at least curious enough to tag along. Together we made our way to the chambers where both Galoran and the boy had been taken to be cleaned and otherwise cared for, but to our surprise we found only the child lying there on one of the beds, still unconscious. On the other one lay a small, neatly folded card, which read: "Thanks for everything, Galoran." Of course, none of the servants had noticed him slipping away; they had just left him and the child alone after they had washed and dressed them, thinking that they would return later to check whether the guests were awake yet.

            "Dworkin's brother, isn't he?" I mumbled to Random. He nodded and sighed. Ah well, I guess I should just be grateful for the way he had helped us help himself. Perhaps I would be able to get some answers the next time I ran into him. Perhaps... At least he had left a thank-you note.

            As I stood there musing about Galoran's mysterious ways, I suddenly noticed Random tensing slightly and concentrating on some point off in space. Apparently he was receiving a Trump contact, but he kept his conversation purely on a mental level, giving us no hint about the caller's identity. He stood there transfixed for one, maybe two minutes, before a man stepped  through from the other side. He looked a bit unkempt, with straggly black hair, a dark complexion, and a jaw that had not seen a razor for at least several days. To top it off he was wearing some kind of metalic overalls, complete with a pair of vaguely silvery but very dirty boots. His expression of confusion told me that he was not at all familiar with the mechanics of Trump contacts. He looked around in bewilderment, until his eyes met the steady gaze of our King.

            "Ehm… Good day," he began. "Ehm… You are…?" He seemed to stop and collect himself, and he stood a little straighter as he addressed Random again, apparently knowing at least a little about whom he was talking to. "You are… the sponsor?" he ventured, extending a cautious hand in greeting. I cast a sideways glance at Random, who smirked in return.

            "Someone Boadice has managed to dig up," he said. The man followed his gaze and gave me an uncertain smile.

            "Estevan," he said. "How do you do?"

            "Look," Random said to the stranger, "if you don't mind I'll have someone make an appointment for you for some later time in order for us to sit down and discuss the various possibilities that spring from your being present here. At the moment there are one or two very urgent affairs of state that require my attention."

            "Oh…, well…, of course," Estevan mumbled, slightly taken aback. As he was led away by one of the servants he looked over his shoulder, rather disappointedly. It would seem that cousin Boa had led him to expect something more than just a mere "how-do-you-do-we'll-talk-later", but then she could not have known about the latest local crises.

            Random was about to dismiss the lot of us, probably with the aim of some serious private deliberations in mind, and indeed Martin and Melusine were more than happy to get out of his sight and pick up on their own personal quarrels. I, on the other hand, rather favoured the thought of ten or fifteen minutes alone with Random, if only to put some more personal perspectives on the current affairs. Fortunately, Random was interested enough in what I wanted to say to him without the other two being about, so we temporarily sequestered ourselves in one of the castle's many sitting rooms.

            "About Martin and Melusine…," I began a bit uneasily. "I don't exactly know how to say this, but please don't judge them too hard."

            "I think the judging is entirely up to me, Dorian," he replied, though not unkindly.

            "I know, I know, but…"

            "Look," he said, "as for Melusine, I can kind of understand her case. If Flora is indeed her mother, she would demand the loyalty that is her due. But Martin is my own son. He should have known better."

            "He's also very much in love."

            "The fool…" He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Still, it's no excuse."

            "I know that, but I'm also fairly sure that he had no idea how serious this whole matter was, and he did try to handle the matter by himself."

            "For all the good it did him…"

            "What I'm trying to say is, I know that it wasn't very bright of me either to try and confront Flora on my own, but if at that particular time I'd come to you instead, I would have had little else than rumour and vague suspicions."

            "Okay, you wouldn't have had any proof, that would have been a problem. Yet I still would have wanted to hear it, even if it were only suspicions. Couldn't you just have warned somebody about what you were going to do?"

            I permitted myself a brief smile. "I did." He caught my drift right away.

            "Murlas. Hmm." He shrugged, dismissing the subject of my shady brother/cousin. "You mentioned something about a prophecy, didn't you?"

            "Yes," I repied. "A while back, a few of us encountered what might be called a projection of Brand on the Overshadow, a message meant for his son Rinaldo, sort of a last will and testament. In this message he mentioned the Wolves and vaguely referred to the threat that they may represent. He further claimed that all of his actions leading up to and during the course of Patternfall ought to be seen in light of this particular threat; he even said that his efforts had all been geared towards making the Pattern and the Logrus more compatible to one another."

            "And you didn't, by any chance, stop and say to yourself: "Gee, it might be a good idea if the King of Amber hears about this", did you?" Beneath the surface of Random's light, sarcastic tone there lurked a deeper sense of disappointment, both official and personal. I didn't shirk from giving him my reasons, though, for I felt they were as valid now as they had been before.

            "I did do so, actually," I said, meeting his stare calmly. "But then I considered what the King might do with such knowledge. Perhaps he would do nothing at all, and perhaps he would even order me not to do anything either. And then I thought that it might be interesting to dig a little deeper first, so as perhaps to have some concrete evidence supporting or denying the story, so that is what I did. Besides, and that might have been one of the more serious arguments against disclosure, as soon as the name Brand is mentioned, all the old prejudices tend to resurface, making it very difficult to gather some truthful information."

            Random snorted a little when I mentioned the usual reactions to Brand. "You don't have any firsthand experience of that era," he said, "but you have to realise that Brand was very destructive."

            "Tell me something I don't know! I had to do without my mother as a child because of him." I was rather surprised by my own vehement reaction, especially considering all my recent attempts to keep Brand alive. Still, I had my prejudices too, it seemed.

            "And yet you have no qualms arguing his case?" Random asked, cocking one eyebrow. I sighed. I knew I had to give him something more, something that would show that this prophecy thing went way beyond any personal feelings I might have towards Brand.

            "Back in the Courts of Chaos," I began, "when we were on our way to the centre of the Logrus to try and repair it, we had to pass through a zone that was akin to our experiences of Tir-na Nog'th. The Chaosians refer to this phenomenon as the Black Shadows. It's a very unstable region, and if you're passing through it you get similar kinds of visions. Now you have to keep in mind that this was before we learned of Brand's will. One of the visions I had featured the threat from something called the Wolves, which at that time did not mean anything to me at all. Nevertheless, the vision made quite a strong impression on me, and later, after our adventure on the Overshadow, I came to read a lot of significance into it."

            Random studied me for a moment, then nodded once, slowly. His expression was serious and pensive, yet he did not make any remark about Tir-na Nog'th's notorious unreliability. Instead, he suddenly jumped up from his chair and started pacing the room, finally stopping after a minute or so to gaze out of the window.

            "You know what's really bothering me?" he said, without turning away from the window. "That it's so very hard to unite the whole of Amber. I've certainly tried, repeatedly, but I'm afraid that you've just managed to put at least one major difficulty into words: prejudice. It's so very hard to approach any situation without any kind of bias. And I have to weigh all of the interests and consequences." He turned and regarded me, and I suddenly thought he looked a bit sad. "I had hoped that it would be easier for the younger generation to be a bit more trusting."

            "We were never encouraged to be so," I said, thinking back to the times that I had felt betrayed, as well as to those times when I had lied to or withheld the truth from one of my relatives myself. Somehow I was sure that the others of my generation had not fared much better.

            "I guess so," Random sighed. "Perhaps we of the older generation are not very good at lending encouragement." I shrugged. It was a moot point anyway. Trust, once broken, can never completely be mended. You just tried to go on without cutting your feet on the shards. Still, his idealism touched a certain chord in me, and he was the King after all, so…

            "Prejudices are hard to overcome," I said, "but I've found that once you make the effort, it can be very rewarding." Random looked up sharply, his gaze suddenly full of some kind of desperate intensity.

            "You have to trust me!" he said. "Trust that I want what's best for Amber, what's best for all of us." I nodded slowly. Yes, I would trust him as far as that. After all, he was our ordained King, he was the Unicorn's chosen. Yet, I realised that Amber's best interests might not always coincide with my own. Some kind of balance would be required, but I'd rather strike it on my own. Random looked away and sighed once more. His was not an easy job, or so he made it seem. "I know you came to me as soon as you could," he said, "and that's something that I can at least appreciate."

            "Well, we had some difficulties to overcome in that other Reality, like no Pattern to start with. Also, that place was almost identical to ours, but somehow lagging behind a bit. We got caught right in the middle of Corwin and Bleys's march against Eric."

            "But what would have happened if you had not managed to come back? Fortunately, in this case I got the gist of your story from other sources, but I might never have heard about Brand and everything from anyone else."

            "But then, if I had not returned, Brand would not have either, so the whole problem would not have existed in the first place, would it?"

            "Still, I would have liked to have had that information anyway," he said sternly.

"I know. And I understand. But there would have been other people who could have told you, about those prophecies at least. Murlas knew about them, and so did Rinaldo. And so did Martin." Oops! Random frowned deeply when I mentioned his son's involvement. And here I had started this conversation wanting to argue Martin's case a bit, wanting to protect him a little from his father's ire. "That was rather a problem at the time, though," I hurried on. "When the four of us heard Brand's projection deliver his message, Martin and Rinaldo got immediately into an argument about what course of action we ought to take. And, well, ultimately that resulted in a colaboration between me and Murlas."

            "So if I understand you correctly, you kept this whole thing undercover right from the very start, didn't you?"

            "If anything, their reaction showed how hard it would be to conduct any kind of public investigation," I said with a weak smile.

            "I can see your reasoning," Random said, "but I do hope that in future you'll be able to confide in me a bit more. Well, I guess I'll have to get things organised over here. Was there anything else in specific that you wanted to talk to me about?"

            "Yes, there's one thing: that little boy we brought back with us. It might be a good idea to question him, once he's up to it of course. If we know where's he's from and what has happened to him, we might get some idea of what has been happening to the Nexus. Apart from that, I don't know if you need me around for anything; if not, there are some other matters that I need to attend to, people I need to see, and all that."

            "I think I'm going to have to call a Family meeting," Random said, rubbing his eyes wearily, "for this news about Brand is not something that I will be able to keep from the others. And we'll also have to discuss this matter of Flora, since most people will have heard one or two things about it by now. I'll just let you know when this meeting will take place. I trust I'll be able to contact you?"

            "Sure." As we got up and were about to leave the room, I suddenly said: "One last favour. Let me tell Deirdre that Brand is back. She deserves to hear it from me."

            "Alright. If you're able to keep her from doing anything rash, all the better." I smirked.

            "I hope so. She's got quite a temper, though." That got a laugh from him, at least, and chuckling he went on to take care of other kingly business. As for me, I trudged upstairs to my chambers. I would call my mother and tell her the thrilling news as soon as possible, but there were some more important matters to take care of first. A long, hot shower, for instance. And then some nice fresh clothes. And perhaps even an appointment with the Court barber...

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