the Fierce & the LintKing's Amber Bits

"Afternoon and late meetings," Dame Tempest remarked, "have been the
most successful."

"So breakfast means murder and meihem?" Sir Monsun jested, unknowingly close to the truth.

"I suppose that depends on your definition of `successful,'" came the ever semantical referent of Sir License.

They met in Amber City, in a small tavern not far enough (in Dame Tempest's opinion) from the docks. Sir Monsun worked semi-officially as a facilitator between injured sailors and the odd jobs available in the dockyards. This tavern was his usual hangout, and the barkeep was used to the Knight having meetings of various sorts in the back room. That this one consisted of individuals with some prestige was just something for the slow fuel of rumour.

Dame Jennet sat down quickly so that neither Sir Xenial or Sir License would feel obligated to stand for her. "What is the occasion?" she asked, drawing attention to the point.

"Sir Marius has asked us to acquire a valet." License followed this up quickly with, "He must be of suitable temperment and solidly forgiving nature."

"I notice you say, `He,'" Sir Xenial remarked, with an eye towards Dame Tempest.

The lady smirked, sitting next to Dame Jennet.

"And did we not know the young lord's nature, would we be where we are now?" Sir License noted somewhat wryly.

"A lady may come along to be tested by our young lord, and though tried in fire and storm may still find what is precious in him. We have, but it is never less than a challenge," Dame Jennet said with a straight face.

Dame Tempest laughed. "Having tried those tempers, I see any future love having a soul hardened like diamond, and a heart as big as the world. It would be her only defense." Her expression glittered like the diamond to which her words referred.

"However, as you say," Sir Xenial agreed, "she will not be found as his valet."

"Some traits then, to find," Dame Jennet suggested a brainstorm.

"Not taller than Sir Marius," Monsun recommended. "It wouldn't be right."

Sir Xenial scratched his bald head, but nodded, committing it to memory nevertheless.

"Better looking would be an issue, too. He can't be prettier than our lord," Dame Tempest said, hiding her smile. It was hard to tell if this was a suggestion or a statement of fact.

Xenial sighed. "Experience?" he asked, fearing Sir Monsun or Dame Tempest's next suggestions, and trying to refocus the group.

"Not necessary, but not a drawback either," Dame Jennet nodded, looking at License, who nodded back. He would bring his experience with Princess Deirdre to the fore.

"No attachments," Tempest suggested. "That will allow him to focus on Sir Marius exclusively."

"A stranger to this place?" Sir Monsun asked.

"Someone who needs to be able to make connections quickly. A merchant, perhaps?" Sir Xenial prompted.

"Someone for whom haggling and procuring are second nature," Monsun agreed.

A criminal?" Tempest teased.

"Not a bad idea," Sir Xenial considered it. "An honest one."

"Honesty is important," Monsun pondered aloud, "but I don't know if---"

"An honest criminal is a bad one," Tempest opined.

"Not always," Xenial demurred.

"He needs an even temper, maybe even a cheerful man," Dame Jennet spoke up.

"Not too sober," Monsun was quick to add, "but not a drunkard, either. Um, what does a valet do?"

"He is a gentleman," License explains. "He helps arrange travel, maintain a wardrobe, take care of our young lord's needs. Schedule and hire other staff, perform routine maintenance on his equipment, handle his appointments..."

"A nanny?" Dame Tempest laughed.

Jennet was not so easily drawn into the teasing. "He must be mature, yet young enough to be flexible. He may become a confidant, but our lord would not allow him to become a weakness."

License nodded. "You have someone in mind."

"I have someone in mind."

"Let us meet him," Xenial agreed.

...

"Couthrie Hafaza, yes, it's a mouthful," the fellow introduced himself. "I am a...was a merchant." He was invited to sit down, and did so, nodding and bowing along the way. "Dame Jennet, well, I'm sure you heard the story."

"Story?" Monsun asked, perking up.

"He was one of those lost in the first storms," Jennet explained, referring to one of her jobs as navigator.

"Oh." Monsun nodded.

"Anyway, with one thing and another, I made it back to Amber just in time to hear something about Xanadu. I cannot claim to be a good merchant by anticipating the market, but I do hear things," Couthrie smiled. "I like to keep track of my..." he grasped for a word.

"Stock?" Monsun offered.

"No, and I would call them customers, but I think of them as friends."

"What did you sell?" Sir Xenial asked, suspicious.

"Oh, this and that. Nothing illegal, all quite above board, but it's a rare individual who appreciates---"

Sir License hid a smile as Dame Tempest set down her glass rather sharply.

"What?" she snapped.

"Keys."

"I must admit, I do not understand," Sir License said, quietly. "A locksmith?"

"I traded puzzles and riddles, like a troubadour. I bought rumours of treasure and secrets to sell to those who would seek them. It came to me that I was thus a thief, but the sea stole my family in return. I've repented. I have a few skills of my own. I'm a fair tailor, and I've rather unfortunate experience in almost all roles on a ship. I can throw a decent pot, like to feel I have a flair for cooking, and I am no stranger to a fistfight. I also teach."

"He plays a good game," Dame Jennet said, quietly. As the master Hafaza was no Mincart, it still said something.

"I like to think so," Coutherie suggested, almost modestly. "That is where I met the Lady," he referred to Jennet.

"Why would you want this job?" Sir License asked, quietly.

"I need a patron. I need to be able to reach the right people. I have a lot to repay."

"And what would you do if exposed to secrets?" Sir Xenial asked.

"A secret is no longer a secret once it is told. I know that, now."

Tempest nodded. "He'll do. Or our lord will see to it. Sir License, show him the way."