Riversend Naval Base
All Hallows Eve/Samhain, SY153
I'm never at my best when I'm woken up at three in the morning, and the experience of being disturbed by a Trump call can be somewhat surreal, especially if you're dreaming at the time, as I was. Which meant that my first reaction when I realised I'd been dragged kicking and screaming to consciousness was a more than grumpy "What?".
I recognised my caller as one of my many grandchildren, John's son Alexander, which added to my puzzlement. As far as I was aware, he was currently posted to Murray, trying to work through a few... personal issues...which had been building between us over the course of the preceding few months.
"There's going to be an attack on Riversend," he stated, apparently undaunted by my initial reaction, "does 'firestorm' mean anything to you?"
The word took a moment or two to sink in, but when it did, visions of Coventry and Dresden sprung to mind. The idea of something similar happening in Sable shocked me to wakefulness in a way few other things could have.
"Five minutes," I answered, "give me five minutes."
He nodded, then broke off the contact.
I climbed out of bed, trying not to wake Claire, and went to the bathroom, where I splashed water on my face to try to make myself feel human. Then I returned to the dressing room and pulled on some clothes, and once I was presentable, I brought Alex's Trump to mind and stepped through when he answered.
As I looked around me, I could see that we were in the street in one of the barracks areas of the Riversend Military City. Around me I could see three of the other agents who often undertook missions with Alex – Julian Bond, Felix Ronson and Gideon Gable, complete with his small draconic ally, with whom he seems to have a strong mental link. I also saw Francesco standing there, waiting and looking concerned. It was the second time in a month that Bond had been involved in a key mission, and I idly wondered whether Gray had decided to keep him busy so that the casinos of Sable wouldn't go bankrupt.
"Firestorm?" I asked, returning my attention to Alex.
"We think there's a group somewhere nearby who want to make a ritual magical attack on Riversend," he answered, "the paperwork we found indicated a firestorm."
"Does General Graham know?"
"Yes. But he also something about the Lord Protector being due to visit today, then broke the Trump link, telling us to contact you and then to try stop them."
"Any idea when?"
"They could have already started the ritual," he replied, "we don't know how long it would take."
"Something as big as that...several hours at least," I answered, "Francesco?"
"I'd estimate twelve hours," my friend answered, "and given that William is due here at eight – and it's gone three now – they're probably well into it by now. Moreover, if we disturb it, there's no saying whether the energy that's already been built up will hit the site where they're working, or the target...ie here. It depends on how the ritual was structured."
"I'm willing to see if I can find them," Bond offered, "even though there's that risk. Anyone else?"
There seemed to be no dissenters, so in the end I nodded to Francesco and the others.
"Then go. Find them. We'll deal with protecting Riversend," I replied. I just had to hope they'd be in time, although if the aim was to hit Will, then the ritual probably wouldn't be unleashed for a few hours yet, so there was a chance.
I watched them for a moment or two, and then brought one of my lesser-used mental Trumps to mind and initiated the contact.
"Robert," came James Blake's voice, as he answered. My old friend and one-time comrade in arms, didn't look half as groggy as I had a few minutes before...fresh even...and I noticed he was already dressed. Of course, he isn't a great one for sleep nowadays.
"I need your help," I answered.
"At three in the morning?"
"Beggars can't be choosers," I replied, "remember the Blitz?"
"Boy do I."
"It looks like we might be about to get a rerun at Riversend, and I need your help."
"Now?"
"Now."
I extended my hand and he stepped through without further argument. As he did, I saw Francesco, Alex and the rest heading off to see what they could find.
"So...here I am. Do you want to fill me in?" James said, and I returned my attention to him.
"Apparently someone is preparing to drop a firestorm on us," I answered, as I started heading for the centre of town, "needless to say, that would be undesirable."
"No shit," came his answer, "so you've called me in because of the old days. I'm flattered, and I'm certainly game to try. But don't forget, there were more than just the two of us in those days."
"True, but we've both learned a lot since then," I replied.
"I suppose so."
"Listen. Let's argue about it later. Right now, I want to get in position. Francesco and the others are going to try to disturb things, and there's no saying what could happen."
"Best place is the centre, if I recall," he replied, then suddenly broke into a broad grin, "last one to the Parade Square buys the drinks afterwards."
"Oh, you have to be kidding..." I answered, but he ignored me, instead breaking into a sprint and setting off like the proverbial bat out of Hell.
Sighing as he quickly gained distance on me, helped by the fact that he knew the city better than I did, I headed after him. God knows what anyone who saw us thought, though: the King and the erstwhile Duke of Richmond engaged in a footrace through the darkened streets of Riversend. And yes, he beat me, and was hardly out of breath when I arrived.
"Getting old, Robert?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye, and for a moment he was the young man I had known in London during the Second World War, when he worked as my 2iC and saved my life one warm July night.
"I still have the disadvantage of needing to breathe properly," I answered.
"More likely, you need more exercise," he retorted, chuckling.
Before I could reply, I felt the stirrings of a Trump call and identified Gray as my caller. I opened the link an he distinctly raised an eyebrow when he saw me bent over, regaining my breath.
"Don't even think about starting," I growled as I straightened up and offered him my hand.
With possibly a trace of disapproval, which was quickly masked, he stepped through the link, but when he saw James, he gave a knowing nod.. He was accompanied by Rear-Admiral Jansen Caldwell and Brigadier Marion Collins, respectively the commander of the Naval Base and the commander of the Army Garrison at Riversend, as well as Auguste de Lyon, head of my security detail, who looked rather less than happy, and one of the other Knights, Links von Hanover.
"How bad is it, Your Majesty?" Marion asked. Both James and I had known her for years, as her father was another of our wartime allies.
"How much has Gray told you?"
"Very little, Sire," Caldwell replied, "a potentially devastating attack on the base within the next twelve hours. Now normally I'd take a claim like that with a pinch of salt – we've had threats like that from the Reich for years. But General Graham doesn't usually partake in scaremongering to that degree. Are we talking about a Reich attack?"
"I'd like to hope they wouldn't be that stupid," Gray replied, "a direct attack on Sable soil would be upping the ante far beyond anything they've done before."
"Agreed," I answered, "by mutual agreement, we keep the fighting out of our own back yard."
Gray glanced at me, obviously knowing who the mutual agreement was with, and disapproving, as always, of my relationship with brother Rupert.
"They were pretty pissed about Danzig," Marion commented, "and this sounds comparable."
"Danzig was thirty years ago," Gray answered, "and it was nothing more than it seemed. A tragic accident. If they thought otherwise, they would have retaliated before now."
"Should we be evacuating?," Caldwell asked, "or at least getting people to the shelters?"
"Shelters, definitely," I said, "but I'm not sure there's time to fully evacuate. Either things are going to get nasty really quite soon, or this is all a storm in a teacup."
"Let's be honest," James commented, "when were we ever that lucky?"
"Quite," I answered, quietly.
"Can you protect Riversend if the attack does come?" Marion said.
"I have to, one way or the other," I replied, and I saw her nod.
"Any idea how soon the balloon's going to go up?" asked Caldwell.
"A group of spotters is in the process of finding the location, which may take a little while...maybe an hour, if they get lucky, possibly two if they don't," James answered, "I believe they have aerial reconnaissance with them, which should speed things up."
The admiral looked at Gray and Marion, and nodded.
"We best get to it," he said, and they headed for the headquarters building to start putting the air raid plans into effect.
"Your Majesty, I would be failing in my duty if I didn't advise you against putting yourself at risk like this," de Lyon said, crossing over to me once they'd gone.
"At my last count, there are only two mages here in Sable who have a cat's chance in Hell of making a difference in this case," I answered, "and we're both here. Large-scale defensive magic just isn't something which is ever really studied in Sable itself any more."
"There are others out in the theatres of combat," he answered, firmly, "might they not be able to help?"
"Yes, but I don't happen to have their Trumps on me," I replied, "and without them, I've no way of recalling them in time. I'm sorry, Auguste, but much as I'd rather be somewhere else right now, and would love to take your advice on this one, right now I really don't have a choice. There are over a million people here at Riversend and if we fail them..."
He looked at me for a moment and I thought he was going to argue further, but instead he nodded, and the he and Links moved into position where they could watch our backs. Grateful that I wasn't going to have to have a stand up argument when I knew he was right, I thanked him, and then James and I set about preparing the area where we were going to work. We had maps of Riversend brought out to us, plus a table to work on, and as we settled in for the long haul, I noticed that a group of Royal Guard were also now surrounding the area we were working, to provide added security.
Once we had what we needed, James and I to figure out where the best places to set the wards would be, so that they overlapped tortoise-like across the centre of the city, which seemed likely to be the focus of the attack, as well as reaching to the outlying areas. Then, having devised our plan of campaign, we set up a working link so we could better co-ordinate our efforts, and then began to build. It was a daunting task and I think it was about three-quarters of the way through, with the wards ready to be activated at a moment's notice, that I realised it was going to be too much for just the two of us. James came to the same conclusion at roughly the same time as I did.
"If you've got any bright, useful or otherwise off the wall ideas, Robert, now would be a good time," he commented, "because either it's me, or it's getting warmer."
I paused a moment, felt the pressure in the air increasing, and realised he was right. I could feel the energy building above us, and when I looked up, what looked like clouds were streaking in. If I'd thought about it before, I could probably have grabbed the Sable Jewel, although whether it would have been ideal to use it on Magica Superior itself was another question again. However, I hadn't, and we were out of time.
And then the most beautiful irony occurred to me.
"Bright, no. Useful, possibly. Off the wall, definitely," I answered, and brought to mind a Trump I wouldn't normally have even considered in a situation like this: Jorge von Raeder, Graf von Klieburg and one of Andrew's descendants from the time he was Rupert's prisoner in the Reich. Still, he was also my granddaughter Elanor's husband, and as Reich nobles went, he was reasonably well house trained. Moreover, he had a unique qualification which was just what I needed right now.
"Robert," came the answer, "this is a surprise."
"I could use the help of a Priest of Protection, Jorge...and I wondered if you'd oblige."
"Why on earth do you, of all people, need to call in the Church of Protection?"
"Too long a story to go into now," I replied, "but I'd be very grateful if you'd be willing to help. Hell, I may even make a donation next time I'm in the Empire."
I offered him my hand, and after a brief hesitation, during which I suspect he was trying to decide if it was some kind of trap, he took it and stepped through. When he saw where he was, and the fact that he was surrounded by Royal Guard, he tensed. At least until he realised that most of them were facing outwards.
"Riversend?" he said, looking beyond the cordon to the buildings around the Parade Square. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that a supposedly retired SS covert ops specialist would recognise the place. Then he looked up and I knew he could detect the same energies that James and I were feeling.
"You want me to help protect Riversend?" he asked, meeting my gaze and I could hear the incredulity in his voice, and saw him indicate skywards, "from that?".
"That's the sum of it," I answered, "you can probably feel what we're up against, and I can't contact anyone else in time. You're a defensive mage...your speciality is warding...and you can call on the Great Protector to assist."
"And he'll probably help. But once we're done, he'll put on his other hat and have me shot," came the answer, "we're at war, remember? Denying Sable Riversend Naval Base would be a heck of a propaganda coup, and you're asking me to prevent it."
"I'm well aware of that, Jorge. And currently more than half this base probably think that the energy that's about to destroy us originated from your side anyway. Help us out, here, and you could do a great PR job – much as you have been for Rupert in New Yorvik."
"Robert. Hate to break up what seems to be a fascinating conversation, but we're fast running out of time..." James said, indicating towards the sky, and I could see that the clouds were roiling more and more, and tongues of flame were beginning to lick between them.
I glanced at Jorge who shrugged.
"Screw it," he said, finally, "I guess he can only shoot me once."
"Thank you," I replied, "are you willing to be brought into a mental link with us to help co-ordinate better."
"In for a pfennig..." he answered, and I did as I had suggested. Then I looked at James.
"Ready?" I asked..
"Ready," came his answer, and we activated the wards as the first hail of fire came down to meet them.
We were just in time, and we were still staggered by the sheer force of the energy raining down on us. Through the link I could feel James working to strengthen areas of the wards where he felt they were taking a pounding, and I was doing the same. Jorge, meanwhile, seemed to be trying to pull in defensive strength from somewhere – presumably through his link to the Great Protector – and while his grasp of large-scale defensive didn't seem as good as ours, he was using his instincts as a very competent defensive mage, and supplied energy to us so we could put it where we needed.
As I repaired and fortified a particularly weak area to the west of us, I felt the stirrings of a Trump call, and ended up having to divert some of my energy to block it. James saw me falter briefly, and took up where I had left off, while Jorge tried to back him up. After a few moments, it went away, and I breathed a slight sigh of relief, but before I could re-engage with the defences, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned, to find myself staring into the face of the last person I wanted to see just then.
"Get the Hell out of here, Rupert," I said trying not to lose too much concentration.
"And yet you seem so in need of help, Mein Bruder," he answered, and from his tone, he wasn't pleased. Positively cranky, in fact. "Dragooning my Priest for your cause. Did you really think I wouldn't notice him drawing that much energy in the name of the Great Protector?"
"Little busy here, Rupert."
"So I can see," he answered, and I realised that there was something unusual about his tone and his general demeanour. As if he wasn't entirely free in his actions. And then, he did the last thing I had expected.
He began to help.
I was so startled, that I let my concentration lapse on one of the sections I was responsible, and felt him smoothly insert himself into the link - I guessed he had used Jorge as the bridge – and he took up the slack.
"What on Earth?"
"Shut up, Robert," he answered, and I could tell he hated himself for what he was doing, "don't say another bloody word. We can talk about this later."
And then there were four of us, working as a polished team, and I knew that we were going to be able to hold off the fires. I even noticed that as we worked, Jorge seemed to be becoming more confident and instead of just supplying energy, he was managing to actually form and hold large-scale warding as we worked.
I have no idea how long the attack lasted, but finally it diminished and was gone, and the four of us were left standing, exhausted, but victorious. I did notice, though, that somewhere along the way it had got light and Samhain had dawned as a beautiful autumn day. And then Auguste saw our fourth participant, and almost faster than I could blink, he was between me and my brother, with his blade at the latter's throat.
"A little late, Colonel de Lyon," Rupert said quietly, his voice thick with exhaustion, "if I'd wanted to kill your principal, he'd have been dead hours ago. However, as it happened, I did not."
I indicated to Auguste that he could lower his blade and step back. He wasn't pleased, but he complied, although I was pretty sure that he would interpose himself again at a moment's notice. If he got a moment's notice. Then I glanced over at James and Jorge, both of whom looked stunned...presumably for different reasons. James' "Delatz!" and Jorge's "Great Protector?" escaped their mouths at almost the same time.
"Call me when you're done here, Mein Bruder," Rupert said, curtly, and moments later he disappeared into a nimbus of rainbow light.
"What the Hell?" was James's comment.
"No clue," I answered, "Jorge...?"
"You asked for help in his name Robert," the younger man replied, "what did you expect?"
He paused, then gave a weak smile.
"Still, I find myself more hopeful that I won't be going home to a firing squad. Do you need me any further, or can I go and collapse gracefully?"
"I think we can take it from here. Thank you."
He shrugged and then I saw him draw a Trump out of his pocket – Elanor's, I think - and concentrate on it. Moments later he, too, was gone, leaving James and myself in the Parade Square.
"Robert, may I thank you for introducing me to a whole new experience...working with the biggest bastard from the other side of this war."
"I didn't know he was going to show up like that," I answered, "and I certainly didn't expect him to help."
"Do you know the bit I found most disconcerting," he said, looking at me, his expression hard to read, "how similar his working style is to yours. I didn't realise he'd joined us until quite a while later, once things were calming down"
"That is a long story."
"One day, I'd like to hear it."
"We'll see."
I think he was going to say something more, but at that moment, Gray, Marion and Caldwell made their way through the RG cordon.
"You did it!" Caldwell said, his expression relieved beyond measure.
"We had a little help," I answered, and I could see Gray's mind working feverishly.
"How much damage was there?" James asked.
"We're still waiting to get in all the reports, but it looks good," Marion offered, "no mention of damage or casualties within the warded area, although the ground outside the city is pretty much burned to a crisp. Thankfully, there isn't much out there – it acts as a kind of no-man's land around the city."
"I doubt anyone's going to be creeping in over it any time soon, that's for sure," Caldwell commented.
Gray remained silent, watching me with something approaching suspicion, and I knew he was going to find out. My only hope was that Jorge's and Rupert's visits were sufficiently short – and their minds were sufficiently occupied while they were here – that the security of Riversend hadn't been fatally compromised by their presence. Then his attention seemed to wander, and I realised he was getting a Trump call.
"That was Bond. They have prisoners – I'm needed back at the Maze."
"Understood," I answered, "thanks Gray."
And I watched as he, too, disappeared, silently thankful that I would have time to come up with a good story. Not that I could off-hand think of a good story to explain the presence of an SS Brigadeführer and the RFSS himself.
"Rear-Admiral Caldwell...Brigadier Collins. Do you still need us?" James asked.
"No sir," Caldwell answered, "we can take it from here. Your Majesty, General Blake. I don't know how to thank you."
"What was done, needed to be done," I answered, "now, if you'll excuse us?"
"Of course," Marion answered, and I rested a hand on James's shoulder, and teleported us back to the courtyard of Sable Palace.
"You're welcome to stay," I said to him, "I can have the servants find you a room?"
"There's no need, my friend," he replied, "but thank you... the presence of the RFSS aside it was like the old days, and daft as it sounds, I enjoyed it. Even an old soldier like me needs to feel wanted occasionally."
"You're always wanted, James, never forget it."
"Thanks. I'll talk to you in a couple of days."
We shook hands in a gesture of friendship, and then he triggered a teleport and was gone.
"Robert," Claire said, as she came out to join me, "what just happened? Was that James Blake I just saw disappearing?"
"We dodged a bullet," I answered, quietly, "and yes, James was helping me."
"Are you going to actually explain?"
"We stopped an attack on Riversend," I replied, "but it was a close run thing."
"Anyone hurt?"
"Hopefully, only the bad guys," I said, weakly, "Gray's debriefing the team which dealt with that, so I imagine I'll know later."
"Love, you're exhausted...you need to sleep."
"Still one thing I've got to do first. I think I'll grab a shower before I do, though."
I kissed her, and then headed up to my quarters, where I stripped off the filthy, sweaty clothes I'd been wearing and stepped into the shower. I stood under the warm water for a good fifteen minutes, before the tiredness and aching faded somewhat from my bones. However, by then I realised I couldn't put this off much longer.
I dried myself and dressed, and then brought my brother's Trump to mind. He answered in an instant and offered me his hand, indicating that I should pull him through to me, which surprised me slightly. Normally when he's feeling imperious he demands that I go to him. I asked him to hold on for a second, then walked through into the study attached to my quarters, and brought him through.
He'd also spent the intervening time since I'd last seen him making himself look a little more human, but I could still see exhaustion in his features, and if anything, he looked more tired than I was.
"Is there somewhere neutral we can go?" he asked.
"Any particular reason?"
"I don't want either of our security services hearing this conversation," he replied.
"Millbank?"
He paused a moment, then shrugged.
"It's very much your territory, but it will do."
I rested my hand on his shoulder and transferred us both to the family home, arriving in the library. I called for a servant and ordered breakfast and coffee, and then indicated for him to sit.
"Well that was certainly a different way to spend the first of the month," he commented, as he sunk into one of the armchairs by the fire, "although all in all, I have to say that I prefer tea."
"Why the paranoia?"
"Because you had me commit treason last night..." he answered, suddenly tensing, "and I need a little time to work out how to spin that."
"You can spin treason?" I asked, incredulous.
"Within reason. I am the Reichsführer-SS, in case you hadn't noticed."
"Rupert, I didn't ask you to come...and I certainly didn't ask you to help."
"But you did, brother," he said, quietly, "but you did. By asking Jorge to help you in his capacity as my Priest, I had no choice but to give my assistance. I assume that was your intention."
"After a fashion...although I thought you'd support him, not come yourself."
"But there's the rub," he replied, "you see, because of the way Roland has set up his bloody Logrus, and this whole taking aspects thing, I had no choice."
"Aurellian gods don't usually make personal appearances when they're called on."
"Unless the person doing the asking is sufficiently desperate that their god has to help them or let them die."
"Jorge didn't seem desperate, and he certainly didn't seem as if he felt his life was in danger...beyond the obvious."
"That's because he didn't want you to see it," he retorted, "he's proud and he doesn't like letting people down. But I could feel it, through his link as my Priest. He wasn't on the same playing field as you and Blake, but his honour wouldn't let him break away, and moreover he felt he owed it to Elanor to stick with it. It was a dirty trick, Robert."
"I genuinely hadn't realised," I replied, meaning it, "I like the lad. I thought he'd be able to cope."
"You thought wrong. He's good at what he does, but that wasn't his area of expertise."
I was trying to decide how to answer when the servants came in with trays laden down with bacon, eggs, sausages and other assorted goodies, plus a huge pot of coffee, and placed them on the library table. I thanked them, and they departed, leaving Rupert and I to tuck in with gusto. About fifteen minutes later, we'd pretty much demolished the spread, so we took our coffee back to the chairs by the fire.
"I think this is the first time I have really realised what Roland was trying to achieve when he set the gods and the Empire up the way he did," he said, quietly.
"He always wanted his kin to take responsibility when they took his Power," I answered.
I managed to resist the temptation to tell him he shouldn't have played keeping up with the de Lacys if he had objections to doing some actual work as an Aurellian god, instead settling for "Presumably you knew that when you walked it. I certainly did."
"I hadn't seen it in quite so stark relief before," he replied, "and for the first time, I almost regret my decision to follow your example in that regard. However, it's too late to change it now."
"I thought you enjoyed being the Great Protector."
"Normally, I do. The irony amuses me, as does your expression every time you have to call me that. But I had not realised that doing so would affect things so close to home. The Empire is a long way away...I thought my Great Protector persona would stay there"
"You use what resources are open to you to get the job done. So do I."
"Except that the resource you used was my Priest."
"He's also married to my granddaughter, which makes him family."
"Do you enjoy using your family, Robert? Endangering them for the good of Sable?"
"No. I only do it when I have no choice," I replied, "and last night, I had no choice."
I paused, then met his gaze directly, "Tell me honestly, Rupert, were your people behind the attack on Riversend?"
"They were not," he answered, his tone matter of fact.
"No secret black op? No ambitious corner of the SS trying to get your attention by doing something spectacularly destructive?"
"My people know that if they pulled something like that on Magica Superior, I would personally execute them for it. I have no time for fools who let ambition upset the civilised relationship I try to maintain with you, Mein Bruder."
The coldness, and the certainty with which he said that left me in absolutely no doubt that he meant every word. I suppose he didn't cultivate the persona of the most feared man in the Reich for nothing.
"What of the wider Reich?"
"They wouldn't have had the skill to come up with a ritual like that...presumably it was a ritual...it didn't' feel like conventional magic."
"I'd concur. I believe we even have some of the participants in custody, although I haven't had time to check in to see if they're talking yet."
"I would be interested to know what they say," he said.
"I'll consider it," I replied, then smiled as something occurred to me, "Of course, that's one way you can...spin...what happened last night. You were protecting the greater peace of Magica Superior...keeping the war away from home... proving to Sable that the Reich are not such butchers that they would initiate such a potentially devastating attack on the home world."
He paused a moment, obviously considering the possibility I had suggested, even though I hated myself for saying it. After all, I doubted that they would stop short of undertaking something similar off Magica Superior, Black Friday being a case in point.
"It might work. It might indeed. I'll need to tell the Kaiser what happened though."
"You don't normally care about keeping the Wilhelm in the loop."
"It's called covering my own ass, Robert...although I'm not sure if you've ever learned that particular skill, given how often you seem to end up being punched out by your trusted advisers. If Wilhelm knows, and declares that I acted for the good of the Reich, then no-one else will dare argue the point. The Kaiser will have spoken."
"I suppose I can't fault the logic of that," I answered, then paused before adding, ""Is Jorge going to be alright?"
"I think so. I managed to support his efforts as well as my own, so I believe I cushioned the effects somewhat. He's going to take a while to recover though, even with the tender loving care of the delightful Elanor, and I doubt that your granddaughter is going to be very pleased with you when he tells her what happened."
"We'll see."
"A word to the wise, brother. Don't you EVER use one of my people like that again. Or I will be displeased."
"I can't promise that, Rupert."
"Then remember my warning, and realise that there will be consequences."
With that he finished his coffee and got to his feet.
"I should be getting back...I have a meeting to arrange."
"Of course," I replied, also standing, "however, there is one last thing I need to say."
"Which is?"
"Thank you for your help. Both through Jorge and directly."
We looked at each other and our eyes met. We held each other's gaze for a few seconds, and then he gave a nod of acknowledgement.
"I'm not sure if 'you're welcome' is appropriate, but so noted," he said, finally, "and by the way, I'm happy to count this as our November meeting, it being the first of the month and all. It would seem silly to have tea later. Especially as I have work to do later and I need to rest beforehand."
"You're probably right," I answered, not really wanting to know what he had planned for the evening. After all, according to Andrew, the quarter days were when the Black Lodge met at the Wewelsburg.
"Then the greetings of Samhain to you, Robert, and I will speak to you anon."
"Until next month, Rupert," I answered, my tone neutral, and he nodded. Then I felt him bring up the Pattern, and moments later he had jumped away.