Sign of chaos

I suddenly recalled that tough - looking emissary of the Crown I'd met at Bloody Bill's, who had paid his tab in Kashfan currency. I decided I did not really want to know how close in point of time that was to the assassination that had made this recent arrangement possible. What struck me with more immediate force was the picture that now emerged: It looked as if Random had just blocked Jasra and Luke from recovering their usurped thronewhich, to be fair, I guess Jasra had usurped herself, years ago. With all that usurping going on, the equities of the thing were more than a little hazy to me. But if Random's ethics were no better than those which had gone before, they were certainly no worse. It looked now, though, as if any attempt on the part of Luke to regain his mother's throne would be met by a monarch who possessed a defense alliance with Amber. I suddenly felt willing to bet that the terms of the defense provisions of the alliance included Amber's assistance in internal troubles as well as help against outside aggressors.

Fascinating. It sounded as if Random were going to an awful lot of trouble to isolate Luke from his power base and any semblance of legitimacy as a head of state. I supposed the next step could be to get him outlawed as a pretender and a dangerous revolutionary, and to put a price on his head. Was Random overreacting? Luke didn't seem all that dangerous now, especially with his mother in our custody. On the other hand, I didn't really know how far Random intended to go: Was he just foreclosing all of the threatening options, or was he actually out to get Luke? The latter possibility bothered me in that Luke seemed on halfway good behavior at the moment and possibly in the throes of reconsidering his position. I did not want to see him needlessly thrown to the wolves as a result of overkill on Random's part.

So, «I suppose this has a lot to do with Luke,» I said to Vialle.

She was silent for a moment, then replied, «It was Dalt that he seemed concerned about.»

I shrugged mentally. It seemed that it would come down to the same thing in Random's mind, since he would see Dalt as the military force Luke would turn to to recover the throne. So I said, «Oh,» and went on eating.

There were no new facts to be had beyond this, and nothing to clarify Random's thinking any further, so we lapsed into small talk while I considered my position once again. It still came down to a feeling that urgent action was necessary and uncertainty as to what form it should take. My course was determined in an unexpected fashion sometime during dessert.

A courtier named Randel - tall, thin, dark, and generally smiling - came into the room. I knew something was up because he was not smiling and he was moving faster than usual. He swept us with his gaze, fixed upon Vialle, advanced quickly and cleared his throat.

«M'lady Majesty…?» he began.

Vialle turned her head slightly in his direction:

«Yes, Randel?» she said. «What is it?»

«The delegation from Begma has just arrived,» he answered, «and I find myself without instructions as to the nature of their welcome and any special arrangements that would be suitable.»

«Oh dear» Vialle said; laying aside her fork. «They weren't due until the day after tomorrow, when Random will be back. He's the one they'll be wanting to complain to. What have you done with them?»

«I seated them in the Yellow Room,» he replied, «and told them I would go and announce their arrival.»

She nodded.

«How many of them are there?»

«The prime minister, Orkuz,» he said, «his secretary, Nayda - who is also his daughter - and another daughter, Coral. There are also four servants - two men and two women.»

«Go and inform the household staff, and be sure that appropriate quarters are made ready for them,» she directed, «and alert the kitchen. They may not have had lunch.»

«Very good, Your Highness,» he said, beginning to back away.

«…Then report to me in the Yellow Room, to let me know it's been done,» she continued, «and I'll give you additional instruictions at that time.»

«Consider it done,» he replied, and he hurried off.

«Merlin, Llewella,» Vialle said, beginning to rise, «come help me entertain them while arrangements are being made.»

I gulped my last bite of dessert and got to my feet: I did not really feel like talking to a diplomat and his party, but I was handy and it was one of life's little duties.

«Uh… What are they here for, anyway?» I asked.