The Trump call pulled him away from his work. "Here," he said, finishing up what he was writing before looking up to spy Deirdre through the contact. She was holding the card funny, as if she were holding both his shoulders...or maybe his ears. Before he could ask what was wrong, she shook the card.
"Big Brother, WHAT'S GOING ON?!?" she damn near shouted.
Benedict blinked, then frowned. "What," he said patiently, "exactly are you talking about?"
It was her turn to blink. She considered for a moment, then took a big breath. "there'sabigholeinthefloorthatgoeasallthewaythroughtheceilingandtwoofmybrothersaredeadnottomentionwe'vegotsomereallyspookylookingpeoplewhojustcameherewhowanttowalkthePatternandbeeviltoeveryone!" She stopped for a breath. "And the rumblings! Why are there rumblings?"
Ben took a few moments to absorb all that information. He played it back a bit more slowly in his head, then held up a hand to her. He gave some instructions to his lieutenants standing by, then turned back to her--the explanation was going to take longer than he'd like to take. "It's a long story, Dee. First, we don't know what happened to Gerard. He just...fell. Random and Flora apparantly committed suicide, later definitely found out to be false. A... 'twin', of sorts, killed her. We're assuming the same thing happened to Random. When I know more, the family will be informed.
"Odin's retinue...well, for that, you'd have to ask Llewella for details, as I'm still sketchy on it. However, I suggest holding off asking her til this evening, probably late in the evening, as she'll be extremely busy for the rest of the day. But, they are here to help find Dad and Dworkin." He smiled a touch, "Please show them some courtesy, at least. If they get too obnoxious, well..." He shrugged his thin shoulders, before adding, "Just remember, they are guests. Important ones.
"I don't know about the rumblings. The area's supposed to be tectonically stable. While safety protocols for the castle are in my area, the cause of them are not. You'd be better off asking Llewella, or perhaps Lord Gamellon. I'm sure he'll be in the know."
He smiled, "It's just good to see you, Deirdre. Now, what in the hell have you been doing while we've been trying to keep things sane around here?"
"Oh, y'know," she said in that tone of voice she used when she's trying to hide something, "just been around the castle, tryin' to get stuff done. Trying to get things accomplished." Ben found he was somewhat doubtful of what she was trying to get done exactly.
She stopped then, and thought hard on something. She stood up, hooking her arm through a loop on a lantern, then picked up a large jug with that same hand. She walked over to the other side of the dark place she was inand sat down on the other side. She turned the flame down low and sat back in the shadows there. To Benedict's mind, she was arranging herself more efficiently and strategically, should anyone come in the room. There was more here than he first thought--not just a random update encounter. What's she got herself into? he thought, then turned his attention back to her as she resumed talking.
"Yeah," she said, "Stuff." She paused, "Oh, do you know a captain by the name of Westley? He has a ship called the Retribution."
He thought briefly on it. The Retribution was somewhat legendary. It is a privateer ship, attached to the Navy in a semi-official capacity, and had a somewhat shady but impressive reputation for taking on the dirtier types of assignments, invariably coming out of it smelling like a rose. The name Westley didn't ring a bell, however; the captain whose name is associated with the Retribution was Roberts. He's renowned as a swordsman of great skill and a highly intelligent, fearless man. He was also known as a somewhat tragic figure, though the details of why were somewhat confused and contradictory. Some said he came to Amber to escape the wrath of a king whose country he saved, at the cost of the king's own dignity; others said he lost his true love and came to Amber seeking to forget. Whatever the truth was, he's been a dependable servant to the Crown for as long as Ben could remember.
In the end, he just nodded, figuring she'd ask if she needed more information than he gave her, "Heard of the ship, yes, though I thought it was captained by a man named Roberts."
She looked thoughtful. "Well, that might be his other name. The Q-- er, she said that he was known by another name. I wonder if Roberts is it...?" She then suddenly jumped subjects before Ben could comment on that, "What about the Odin-people? Where are they? What are they doing right now?"
He frowned slightly, "I have no idea. I'd imagine getting settled into their rooms, or touring the castle." He thought he should add a few more warnings of 'leave them the hell alone', but declined to. After all, she was sensible enough when she put her mind to it, and she was his sister. All the daughters of Oberon, it seemed, were just as if not more competent than the sons. She could take care of herself.
Her eyes did widen a bit at the 'touring the castle' part. "Well, um," she said, "you seem busy. I'll talk to you later, then." She moved to cut the contact, but Ben interrupted.
"Check back with me tonight and I'll have more for you." He shrugged then, and let her cut the contact. After that, he bent back to his work, not sparing any thoughts for the rather strange conversation.
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