Archer and Orinda's conversation their first night in Elcrooked Flatchet
(After being assigned a room, Archer locks his door and Trumps Orinda...)"I'm worried. I don't like the idea of sitting here for a week." Archer says. "It only ties us down while our enemies have time to maneuver." Archer seems agitated.
"Not at all. You and I are tied down, but so are the Regent and the Queen and Alfred with his airship, all of whom are required to make frequent public appearances throughout the Progress. And so are the others, although maybe not so much so. Remember, the King was managing things, if not in the way we might have wished, for some years before we came along. He understands what we're doing, but at the same time he's free to act if need be."
Archer's grunt of acceptance doesn't voice the thought, "Your're right. He'll do what he likes without telling any of us."
Orinda sticks out her tongue at Archer, then smiles at him encouragingly.
Orinda smiles encouragingly. "Plus, the King has Merlin and Arrow and Lute to help him. Don't forget, you don't have to do *everything* yourself, Archer." Teasing: "Give the others a chance to shine."
Archer laughs. "Shine is that what I did? Seems to me I confirmed some numbers and got thrown out of Elscrooked. Beyond that my mission seems to have been a bust. Hopefully yours will not suffer from my association."
"The Duke seems to have forgiven you your trespasses, and you're not really here for his benefit. You're a witness for the others. And you don't have to do anything but tell the truth to fulfill your role there."
He sits on the cot that's been provided and pulls out his carving knife and Katherine. "Suppose I'll catch up on my carving, eh?"
"You planning on contacting His Highness?" Archer asks.
"I've already talked to your brother and updated them on our plans. They know it will be a week. And I've established a reporting schedule, morning and evening, so we can't just disappear without anyone knowing. Not that I suspect Yarken of that, of course, but we could still be discovered. Do you think we need an additional meeting place besides where we left Diana in case we're taken? We can always trump back to camp unless we're captured, but then we won't be able to plan at all ..." "Good idea. I spoke with Orion and it seems Diana's still there. Beyond that there's a tavern, The Boar's Head, off Threadneedle Way. The owner's name is Lial. He's no friend, but his rooms are cheap and private enough. Of course Yarken knows I've stayed there, but we have to assume he's our ally, right?" Archer says.
"Of course," Orinda replies. "I don't know Elcrooked Flatchett, but I'll find the tavern if need be. I can bribe the owner if we go that route."
"By the way, I know now's not the time, but I missed your company. It's not the same without your scathing wit blistering someone's hide regularly. Amazing what one can get used to."
It takes a moment for Orinda to offer Archer a little smile in response. "Sort of like Riley the bursting pustule?"
Archer smiles.
Quietly, "I understand."
"Your brother doesn't get my jokes."
Soft warm laughter. "But you're right, now's not the time for that. Vialle's a sensitive of the first water; she ferrets such things out and uses them against people. Should you find yourself alone with her at any point in this business, be careful. She'll look behind your eyes and take your thoughts and feelings and turn them against you."
"I'll remember that." Archer's eyes never leave her, but he seems resolved to not let that be an issue.
She frowns, thinking. "You should know about the others. Skafloc claims to have been trained by my Master, and he has the skills, but he has no drive, no energy. William -- I guess you'd already know him, since you served in the army for so long; he's not ambitious, but he's got a real sense of duty. This must be tearing him up."
"I can understand that." Archer says. "It's hard."
Orinda continues: "Magnus, Gerard's son, is -- bland, I guess that's the best word for him. He never struck me as having any real depth. His brother Alfred is the frightening one. He's superficially likable enough, but he's ... I don't even know how to explain. Martin might call him a sociopath. It's like the rest of us aren't quite human to him, or maybe he doesn't have any care for people over anything else; they're just objects that walk and talk, maybe? Gerard wouldn't let him walk the Pattern for the longest time for fear of what he might do with the power."
"Of course," Orinda adds after a moment, "that was all before Random's death."
"No interaction with any of them since that changes your estimations?" Archer asks.
"I had to run for my life before all of them were even back in Amber after Random's death. I never even saw Alfred afterwards. If I know *him*, he congratulated his father. He'd advocated seizing the crown some time before that. William -- I quarreled with him, but that was mostly because he didn't want to hear that lopping the arms off teenage boys was no way to resolve things, especially not when he was uneasy doing it himself. I can't tell whether Skafloc or Magnus heeded my warnings or not. Magnus may even have run with the tale to his father. It's what Vialle did."
Orinda shrugs. "I'll know more when I see them again. The King has changed and so may they have done. They wouldn't respond well to the carrot. Let's see how they like a stick. Nicely presented, but a stick nonetheless."
"This waiting will be the end of me. I never really enjoyed it in the service and, well, I don't now."
"Here's a tip," Orinda says wryly. "Don't join the diplomatic service."
"Sometimes I think this is all foolishness anyway." Archer is now pacing in his room. "That even if we hand our parents a conveient solution before they return, they'll still look on our actions as that of children and run things their way."
He shakes his head. "Of course, this has proven that, all things considered, they're not gods. They're just as mortal as you or I."
"Actually," says Orinda conspiratorially, "my experience suggests that collectively they're a little, um..." She trails off, leaving whatever uncomplimentary word she was thinking unspoken. "Our grandfather sheltered them a lot, you know, and only the redheads ever really paid much attention to any of the useful things they might have learned from Master Dworkin. And look what *they* did with it."
"I remember telling Alfred once that we had to fix things in Amber so well that when our uncles came back that they couldn't break it all over again. Apparently somebody took that message to heart, because that's the core of the Regent's strategy -- claiming that removing him will destabilize Amber. Well, here's the thing: we lost most of the fleet and maybe 10% of the people and *all* the trade, Archer, and it took us a decade to build back with only half a dozen of us. We could have gone on from there and rebuilt Amber bigger and better than she was, if our uncle Gerard had been able to keep it in his pants. But in the end it came down to what it always comes down to with them -- what *I* want, what *I* can have. Not what's good for anyone else, much less for Amber."
Angry, and warming to her subject: "And I'll tell you something else, Archer -- the people don't care, they never have, which one of us is in charge. As long as the trade routes are open and the money is coming in, we could all fall off a cliff and most of Amber's people wouldn't give a damn. Each of us has a few friends -- Julian has Yarken, for one -- but the people's affection for the royal family is skin deep. In many ways we need them a lot more than they need us. And the reason Martin is going to win is because he and I know that and Gerard has forgotten it if he ever did."
"It may well be that we're writing in the wind, you and I," Orinda says, not without some bitterness, "but we're here, and we're the ones with the responsibility to fix things our elders have screwed up royally. And I'm going to do it, too, even if it all falls apart the minute I stop looking at it the way it always seems to do. Because part of the reason our uncle has been able to do what he's done and get away with it is that *I* helped him stabilize things the way they are now. If I'd known what he was going to do, I'd never have back at all. Because I would rather have died in the storm than been a party to ratifying the reign of the man who slew the Unicorn's anointed."
"I understand, I think. There's days I wished that the Wyverns would've been kept as part of the Home Guard, that I could've done something. But we're both strong enough people Orinda that we pick ourselves up and move forward. I wish I had been given the chance to know him as a King. He always came off a bit cocky and carefree, but, well maybe, if Martin's any reflection, he could've been a good King." Archer looks to her compassion in his eyes. "You cared for him, didn't you?"
"He was a good man who deserved better than what he got. He would have been a good King."
Orinda's jaw sets. "But all that's irrelevant now; we can't bring back the dead, or we could start with our grandfather and let *him* sort things out. As you say, we have to pick up and carry on from where we are. That means stopping the Regent and it means undoing a lot of the things I did to make it possible for him to maintain his rule. And there's no more promise that things will turn out right than there was the last time. But I'm going to do it, because I don't believe in leaving that kind of business unfinished."
Archer reaches through the Trump, to caress her cheek, a smile on his lips. "I know. You've got drive enough for both of us I suppose." He chuckles as he draws his hand back. "If I haven't said it, thanks."
"For what? Being Oberon's grandchild and partaking of his willfulness in full measure? If you were in the King's shoes, you'd find little enough to thank there." Orinda smiles wryly.
"If *I* were King? Hah!" Archer's eyes smile back. "Not a job I'd push on anyone, especially if you're part of the opposing team."
"Well, to bed then... I suppose."
A pause.
"Goodnight, Orinda."
"Goodnight, Archer."
He leans forward and kisses her softly on the cheek, and then draws back quickly to end the contact.
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