Interlude Over Port and Cigars
Early July, Amber time
I pushed the papers in front of me away, and rubbed my eyes. I really miss electric light when I'm in Amber, and working my way through hand written documentation does my head in after a while. I stood and stretched, then walked into the sitting room to debate whether to pour myself a drink. No doubt the servants would bring me something if I asked, but for all I'm getting used to Amber now, I prefer a good Balvenie or a decent French Brandy to some of the other liquor they keep around the Palace.
I had opened the drinks cabinet and was considering my next move, when there was a knock at the door. I walked over and opened it, to find an unexpected visitor on my doorstep.
"Wolf?"
"Hey Mihai," he said, with a surprisingly wide smile, "I come bearing gifts."
I stepped back and held the door wide for him.
"Enter and be welcome."
As he came in and deposited what looked like a bottle of vintage port on the top of the drinks cabinet, I found myself trying to remember when he had last been in Amber. I wasn't sure I'd seen him in around the Castle since the abortive party after we'd recovered the Jewel, when Random had kidnapped Tone. Of course, a lot had happened since then.
"I assume you have some glasses in here somewhere," he said, rummaging until he found a pair which were to his satisfaction, and then opened the bottle and poured with reverence.
"Let's sit," I suggested, as he handed one of the glasses to me, and I indicated the chairs by the fireplace. Being summer, I'd organised for a colourful arrangement of local flowers in place of an actual fire, and it brightened up the room considerably.
He put the bottle on the table between us, then pulled a pair of fat Monte Cristo cigars out of his pocket, along with a cutter. We snipped, and we lit, and then we sat back in our respective chairs, enjoying the moment. As we did, I looked him over. He seemed a lot better than he had, even at Christmas, and in a way felt younger to me. Maybe it was because he seemed a little less careworn, which was good to see. Perhaps he'd finally worked through most of the problems that had been weighing him down over the last few years.
"You look well," I said, finally.
"I'm having to keep up with a hyperactive five-year old," he answered, with a wry smile.
"Then fatherhood's agreeing with you. How's everything working out?"
"We're splitting our time between Edinburgh and London. One week up, one week down at the moment. I'll admit things are easier when we're up - Adam is incredibly good with Soren, and his family have taken my boy to heart. But I need to make a living, and I'm almost having to build the PI business up from scratch again after the last few months, so I'm slowly working on moving back south on a permanent basis."
"What do you do with him during the weeks you're down?"
"I'm commuting to Kent. I've found a tutor for him - a woman named Sylvia Dane, who used to be headmistress of one of the private girls' schools - so he's getting some schooling on the down weeks. He's a bright lad, and he needs something to keep him stimulated, or I think he might just plot to take over the world."
"How's Ava taking a new human in her life?"
"She's still trying to decide. I see more of her after he's gone to bed, but occasionally she comes out to supervise."
"You do realise that you don't exactly need to make a living, don't you?"
"I know...but it's still hard to break the habit. I'm like Soren. My mind needs something to think about, or I start getting introspective again. I don't want to do that."
Maybe that was the most important thing Adam had taught him. How to understand his limitations and problems, and make sure they didn't reoccur.
"How's Ms Dane taking the fact that Soren's view of history is different?"
"It's not worked out too badly, so far. Dieter has given him a good grounding, but he's still young enough that little niceties like history and geography hadn't really begun to be covered. The oddest thing for both of them, I think, is that his native language is German, so he thinks in German."
"What are you talking to him in?"
"A bit of both. I don't want him to lose his language. Especially not with our family. I just have to be careful not to confuse him. But as I said, he's a bright kid. We're doing okay."
"I'm glad," I answered, really meaning it. Taking on Soren had been a big gamble, and up until now I hadn't really got back to Tenterden to help, "and what about Armand? How's he settling into his new posting."
"Really well," he answered, proudly, "I met up with him for a drink last week. His new CO, Sturmbannführer Lienert, is apparently very pleased with him. She's mainly had him on ceremonial duty up until now, until he got used to how things work..."
"Standing by the door of the Embassy in his smart uniform looking decorative?"
"A good looking Aryan lad like Armand? Always ready with a smile for Embassy visitors? Oh yes. But it sounds like she's realising that it would be a waste to restrict him to that going forward. He said she's considering whether to send him for close protection training."
"Body guarding?"
"It's more than that, I think."
"Does it worry you?"
"That it might put him in harm's way? I still think his chances will be better than if he had stayed in Poland. He's a good observer, he has the Family senses and reflexes, and I think the last time anyone tried to assassinate someone from the German Embassy was back in the 1970s. So while I'm a little anxious, it's not enough to tell him he can't do it. I really am trying to step back from being over-protective, but it is hard at times, despite the fact that I know he's very good at what he does. It's a learning curve."
"I'm glad he's doing well," I said, then fell quiet for a few moments, to give his gifts suitable consideration, before adding, "So, why the port and cigars?"
"Michel's had her baby."
"Gods, has it been two months?"
"Not quite - she was a little early."
"How early?"
"Imbolc. Which might end up being interesting."
"I suppose a lot of children get born on the Quarter Days without them being potential adepts."
"Around our family, though? After all, you, Armand and Dieter between you have the other three sewn up."
"But Michel's human, not Family. That's a big difference."
"And the Group aren't human?"
"Fair point."
"I don't know, maybe it's nothing. There's just something nagging in the back of my mind about it."
"But they're okay? Michel and the baby."
"Oh yes. She was a healthy seven and a half pounds at birth, and mother and baby are doing well."
"What about Tony?"
"Much to both our surprise, he's actually taken a week's paternity leave."
"What's the current date on Tenterden?"
"You really have been immersing yourself in your work here, haven't you?"
"There's a lot to do."
"February 3rd."
"So a little slow."
"Not very."
"Congratulations...Grandpa Wolf," I said, toasting him and then taking a puff from my cigar.
"Uncle Wolf," he corrected, "as far as Tony is concerned, I'm Michel's half-brother, not her step-father. And you're mine - we decided that when we originally created the Hawke brothers."
"That explains some of the things he said when we were talking at Christmas. I couldn't think why he thought you and Michel were both older than me."
"You look what, thirty-seven, thirty-eight? I come over as forty plus change, and he knows how old she is, even though she still just about looks younger than me. And as he's come into her life relatively late, it seems the safest way to explain it. Michel and I share a mother...you and I share a father, ie Ian Cushing. Hence we have the run of the Cushing family pile."
"And how do you explain it to her?" I asked, curious, "she knows you're her step-father. She remembers growing up with both of us, and the last time we talked about it, you said you'd never talked to her about Amber, or the Family, or any of the rest of it."
"After what happened with Armand and the Lynx Cult, I decided to come clean. With her at least. Tony I intend to keep in blissful ignorance, unless I have no choice. He doesn't have Michel's flexible mind."
"I know you didn't want to, but I think that was sensible. What did she say?"
"When she discovered that her father was eighty years old and immortal? She took some persuading, as you can imagine. On the other hand, she knew something odd was going on, because as you say, she remembers us both being there when she grew up. Even as far as you being older, before you walked the Pattern and changed your identity to Ian Hawke. And she remembers me becoming your brother Rudi and heading for Scotland. And Hell, she's watched me not changing, and herself catching me up in age. It was a bit of a surreal conversation."
"I can imagine. And probably you're going to have to have the same conversation with her daughter, down the line."
He paused before answering, and I saw a troubled look come over his face.
"What's wrong?"
"The whole conversation forced me to look at things from a new light," he answered, "I've watched my daughter grow up from taking her very first steps to forty-three years old. Forty years from now, she's going to be an old woman and her daughter will may well be a wife and mother. And unless something takes me out of the picture I'm going to outlive them all. I'll see them from cradle to grave. It's sobering."
"I know," I said, quietly, "sometimes I think about Audrey. She'd be in her late-eighties now, if she'd lived - assuming she was gifted with long life at all..."
"The Group seem to be," he commented, "all things being equal at least, which is partly why they've just accepted us for who we are. Perhaps your beliefs...our beliefs...keep us more in touch with the world around us, so it touches us less."
"Maybe. I don't know. I miss her, though. I wish we'd had more time."
"At least, in your mind, she'll always be a beautiful woman. That won't be true of Michel."
"I know," I said, gently, "and I'm sorry. I wish I had good counsel for you but I don't, beyond treasure her now and always, and never forget her when the time comes."
He gave a weak smile, and sat back in his chair, smoking in silence and thinking. On the mantelpiece I heard the clock ticking and out in the corridor, servants were moving about their business. I waited with him, drinking, and smoking, and enjoying the aroma of both port and cigars.
"The thing I don't understand..." he said, finally, "is why on earth she's calling the poor little thing Madison. Of all the names to inflict on a child at birth."
It's just as well that I'd just put my glass down. As it was, I nearly choked on my cigar.
"Ian..." he said, looking at me curiously, "you know something, don't you...?"
"It may have come up when I was talking to her over Christmas."
"So where the Hell did she get it from? It bowled me a googly."
At which point I burst out laughing.
"Ian," he said, putting down his glass and resting his cigar on the ashtray. He didn't look impressed.
"Oh Wolf," I answered, still chuckling, "after nearly forty years in England, your assimilation is finally complete."
"I don't get the joke."
"Your first cricket reference."
He puzzled for a moment, then smiled weakly.
"I suppose it was...and you're dodging the point. Where the Hell did she get Madison from?"
"She said they were in New York on holiday when she fell pregnant. But she didn't think your or Tony would agree to it."
"I wouldn't have done if I'd been asked for my opinion," he answered, "I think she bribed Tony by suggesting Antonia as her middle name."
"Then to Madison Antonia Collins. May she have a long and happy life, and walk in the Light all the days of it," I said , with a grin, and raised my glass. He matched my expression, and chinked glasses with me, before taking a drink followed by another puff from his own cigar.
"So where were you and Marina..."
"Germania. It was around the time of the Working"
"Bloody Hell, I hope you don't decide to call your offspring Kufürstendamm, or Under den Linden, or worse still Victory Avenue."
"In fairness, Linden isn't bad."
"Okay, I'll give you that one."
"And I don't actually know if it was in Berlin or at the Castle."
"Any idea if it's a boy or girl yet?"
"They."
"They?"
"I went with her to get a scan a couple of weeks ago, the last time I was home."
"I thought she was still living in Munich at the moment."
"She is."
"So what about the whole persona non gratia thing? You hadn't told me that had been revoked."
"Much as you hadn't told me that you've been restored to your old noble rank, Freiherr Ulrich."
"Ah," he answered, then covered the ensuing awkward pause by addressing his port glass, before looking over at me again, "I was trying to figure out how to break that one to you."
"Dieter broke it to me just fine at Christmas, when he introduced you to Soren."
I tried to sound light about it, but he probably noticed that I wasn't impressed.
"It's not restored, exactly," he replied, carefully, "or at least I don't think it is, although given that Armand turned up before Christmas here on Tenterden, with orders to report to me by name and rank, for all I know it may be. But as far as I'm aware, it's an equivalent title from Germania."
"When?"
"About five years ago, Germania time. But for obvious reasons, I didn't want to mention it."
"Mainly because you'd thought I'd be pissed."
"Something like that."
"Well, that confirms at least one of my suspicions."
"About what?"
"You knew about Germania long before I did."
"Ah Mihai. Are we going to have that argument again?"
I looked at him, knowing I didn't want to break our temporary camaraderie, and then shook my head.
"It's just there's so much you've never told me about your relationship with Dieter since what happened to you at the Castle, that I feel I'm always playing catch-up."
"Your improving relations with him are very new to me, too, especially after all the arguments you and I have had over the years. I'm still adjusting to it."
"Believe me, so am I."
"But you feel more confident going to Germany? I guess he isn't as likely to throw you in a cell anymore."
"Unlike the rest of the GGR government. As far as I'm aware, the persona non gratia thing is still in force. But I have very convincing papers saying my name is Ian Hawke nowadays, and the abilities to back that up."
"So what was the result of the scan?"
"Definitely twins, but they couldn't determine either sex or whether they're identical or fraternal."
"The timing of that could get interesting," he commented, and I had a feeling he'd clocked something I hadn't, "I hope you've got plans afoot to seriously defend the nursery at Wittersham House."
"First we have to have a nursery," I answered.
"Been working on that one, Carmichael and I have set aside a small suite on the main floor."
"Good idea," I answered, but then his expression became more serious.
"I know you've got alarms up around Tenterden, but can you Pattern block the place?"
"Why would I want to?"
He looked at me, surprised.
"You're seriously haven't counted dates?"
"Sure. She's due in mid-July. A nice long way from any dates of significance. And we're still no closer to deciding if we're going to actually get married, although she's pretty much agreed to move to Kent after they're born. I think we're going to need a nurse though."
"Twins are usually early, sometimes up to a month."
"Thanks for that cheery thought, Grandpa Wolf," I snorted,
"Do you want me to start calling you Great-Grandpa Mihai?" he threatened, and I couldn't help smiling. But then I got back to his question.
"But what's any of this got to do with Pattern blocking Tenterden?"
"You know, for a bright guy, you can be really dense sometimes," he said, shaking his head.
I looked at him, genuinely puzzled.
"Tenterden time, when was the Germania working?"
"Around 21st October, if I remember rightly."
"And when did you take her to walk the Pattern?"
"Maybe a week later..."
And then it clicked.
"Oh crap."
"In short, they were conceived on or around a major arcane working, the children of a descendent of Bleys and a descendent of Brand, and then she walked the Pattern. Now just think about that for a moment. Every bloody occultist and ritualist from Amber to Chaos is going to be interested them, and not in a good way. And if you're not careful, the moment they're crawling, they could just crawl away."
"You're making an assumption that traversing the Pattern in utero is going to have any effect on them at all? They weren't exactly walking round it on their own.
"No, but the Pattern rebuilds you the first time you walk it...or that's what you've always said to me. And if it can do that to an adult, what could it do to a week-old bundle of cells?"
"I need more of that port," I answered as my mind ran through the possibilities. They all scared the Hell out of me.
He got up and poured for us both, and then took his seat again and sat smoking in silence for a few minutes.
"Maybe it won't be that bad," I said, finally.
"And maybe pigs can fly."
"They probably can somewhere..."
"Mihai. I may be completely wrong, but it's a possibility you and Marina have to at least discuss, and decide what to do about if it turns out they are Pattern capable from day one."
"We will," I said, with a nod, knowing that we would have to. I guess it was my turn to feel introspective, and his turn to observe for a while.
"Are you staying in Amber long?" I asked, finally, as the last remnants of my cigar burned down, and I stubbed it out with regret.
"Probably just overnight."
"Have you paid your respects to your grandfather?"
"Yes. And I gave him the brother to the bottle of port we've just..."
He lifted it up and saw that very little remained.
"...finished, apparently."
"I'm sure he appreciated that."
"He seemed to."
"Did you tell him about Michel's baby?"
"No, but we did talk for a while. He was wondering how I was doing, so I brought him up to date with the basics."
"I'm glad. He's really not that bad a guy."
"I know. But I'm still to be convinced of what sort of King he'll be."
"Only time will tell on that," I answered, then paused, before adding, "I've missed this, Wolf."
"Missed what?" he asked, puzzled
"It's been a long time since you and I have sat and enjoyed port and cigars, and just talked."
"What about Christmas? I remember at least two evenings when we sat around and put the world to rights."
"With Armand, and Artur and the others, sure. Even Tony. But just you and I...?"
"I suppose it has been a while," he conceded.
"You have no idea how glad I am that you're working things through. With Adam, with Soren and with me."
"Well, maybe I listened at Winter Solstice," he said, with a shrug, "before that I was too tied up in my own problems to realise that they were affecting you too."
"We live and learn."
"Aye, that we do."
He stubbed out his own cigar and then stood up.
"It's getting late. And you no doubt have Mayor stuff to do in the morning."
"Infrastructure Committee...again."
"Then I'd best let you get some sleep."
"I'm glad you found it in yourself to come to Amber and tell me about Michel. I was wondering if we'd ever see you here again."
"Well, you'll see a bit of me on and off - and Armand, as well."
That surprised me.
"We're going to be doing some work with Edward."
"The army project?"
"And some personal stuff."
"Well, you have the Key. You can come and go as you like - just don't leave things too fast while you're off Tenterden. I wouldn't want to get home and discover I have two-year olds."
"I wouldn't," he answered, "if nothing else, leaving Carmichael and Ms Dane alone with Soren for more than a couple of days might be considered a cruel and unusual punishment."
"Bit of a handful is he?"
"And some. But I love him nonetheless."
"Reminds me of someone else I know," I said, looking at him with slight smile on my face.
"Touché," he answered, with a grin, "I may see you in the morning."
"Probably. I'll be up early, and then I have a nine AM meeting."
"Still doing your regular workouts with the guards?"
"When I can."
"Then I'll see you down in the courtyard at seven," he said, with a smile and headed for the door.