As Related by Sloane Lord Redmond
« I don’t get it, » says Mickey. « I’ve read the chapter about Viking warfare about ten times, and it’s interesting, but I still don’t see the relevance to our situation. They were renowned lancers – so what? “It is for this reason that the Germans called them the Ascomanni or ashmen, after their strong wood spears,” » he reads.
« Every Ashman I’ve ever met has a formidable spear, » says Axel.
“Axel del N’stl’d, Margrave von und zu Nightside. 39th to emanate, 70 in the color scale, resonates to 349. 1.774 meters tall, cock size 16.51 cm when erect, apparent age 35. Project coordinator, Nightside Outpost. Totem is Thuja plicata, the western redcedar or giant arborvitae, fixed star is Polaris, the pole. Esoteric symbol is the Minchiate trump La Ruota della Fortuna, the spinette wheel. Dessert is nau’gsh strudel. Function is establishing resistance, proto-conscious tendency is stability, designated Axel. Blazon is Venetian red, a chief embattled or, in base a wheel or.”
« Axel got #34, “Learn something significant by studying the Vikings,” » says Wynne incredulously. « There goes the whole pool. »
« I can’t believe you did that, » Mickey growls.
« I’m sorry, I’m sorry, » says Axel.
« It was staring you right in the face, » Valentin chides. « It was an obvious connection. »
« I still don’t get why it’s important, » says Mickey.
« Because we’re Ascomanni, » says Tannon.
« It sounds like a kind of pasta, » says Mickey.
« You have no romance in your soul, » says Valentin, slapping him on the back. « But now you can put down the book and go on an exciting adventure. »
« Like milking a cow, » says Tannon.
« Let’s leave the gyros to Team West, » says Valentin. « Team East will do some real exploring. »
« As soon as we get out of the State of Decay, » says Mickey. « Why does a place like this even exist within the pleroma? »
« Dermot says it’s the alchemical nigredo phase, » Tannon relates. « Putrefaction necessary before growth. Composting. »
« But I like the car, » says Mickey.
« It’s a pimp car, » says Aran.
« Your point? » Mickey shoots back. « Tannon is going to get some major pollination action in this baby. »
As usual, I’ve been more of a silent observer than a participant. It’s always worked well for me. For example, they’re so busy taking the piss out of each other that they fail to notice we’re driving straight for an impenetrable wall of fog. Pink fog.
« Look, » says Axel, pointing to a road sign which says, “Welcome to the State of Grace.” « There wasn’t a sign when we entered the State of Decay. »
« That’s because we weren’t welcome, » says Aran.
The pink fog hits the car.
The car rises into the air.
« We’re flying! » cries Mickey. « Woot! »
« It’s like the bliss clouds, » says Aran. « But it’s all bliss clouds. »
« This is a great vacation spot, » says Tannon, « except that you have to go through the State of Decay to get there. »
« You could go the long way through the State of Confusion and the State of Enlightenment, » suggests Valentin.
« It’s a rather heavy-handed allegory, » says Constantine.
« I just realized something, » says Tannon. « The only safe way out of the State of Grace is through the mountains into the State of Enlightenment. If we hit the border anywhere else, and the car stops flying, we could have a bad fall from Grace. »
« A thrice-heavy-steel-toed boot allegory, » says Constantine.
« We don’t have to worry about that now, » says Axel. « Look at the map. The State of Grace is quite large, bordering on at least three other states. It has three points where the sea can be accessed, and a series of enormous lakes. It will be days before we’re in any danger, unless we go back the way we came. »
« But can you see anything? » asks Mickey. « All I can see is pink fog. »
« I can see, » says Tannon. « There are geographical features below us. Mostly meadows of flowers. »
« Do we have to fly? » asks Valentin. « Can we go down and explore? »
« Let’s see what happens if I put the car in park, » says Tannon.
The Cadillac drifts gently to the ground like a leaf in autumn, settling in a poof of flower petals.
« It’s dawn, » says Valentin. « You can see the sun’s rays just starting to penetrate the pink mists. The whole area has a rosy glow. »
« Look at this, » says Tannon, plucking a flower. « On the stem, » he says, holding it out for us to inspect.
« Is that a koala bear? » asks Axel. « Look at the fur and the face. »
« But it has six legs, » says Valentin. « And antennae. »
The creature uses its legs to propel itself up the stem, taking an occasional bite out of the foliage.
« It’s a koala bug, » says Aran.
« You’re fooling, » says Valentin. « I’ve never heard of such a thing. If Skarsian geneticists made something like this, every kid would have a terrarium full of them. »
« It’s more like something Davy would make, » says Axel.
« I found a picnic table, » says Tannon. « And there’s a basket full of good things to eat. Fried chik-henn and gatorpies and grilled rambat shashlik. »
« Any Lemonzaid? » asks Valentin.
« No, just wine, » says Tannon. « Nau’gsh wine. »
I’ve never actually had nau’gsh wine. As far as I know, only Daniel, Whirljack and Ailann have tried it. It’s the galaxy’s most notorious aphrodisiac, and it has very pronounced effects on Cu’endhari emanations or any human with Cu’endhari sap in their bloodline.
It looks like trouble to me.
« We might be in danger of getting distracted from our purpose, » Aran warns.
« I am thirsty, » says Axel. « Gatorpies are salty. »
« It’s made from the fruit of the common nau’gsh, » says Constantine. « It can’t be such a big deal. »
« Um, have you ever replayed that Whirljack at the Nau’gsh Festival memory? » asks Mickey. « It’s number five in Tommy’s list of our most epic sexual encounters. »
« What were the other four? » asks Axel, opening the bottle.
« Let’s see if I can remember, » says Mickey. « Um, Ellery loses his virginity, Patrick discovers the pollination kink…hey, you can just go check out Tommy’s media push channel. »
« Tannon, » says Axel, « my little piece of strudel. »
« Um, no, » says Tannon, « you’re the strudel. I’ve got nau’gsholi. »
Somehow, Constantine is naked and throwing himself back into the flowers. « DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT HAS BEEN SINCE I HAVE BEEN FUCKED? » he screams.
Tara used to make me read lots of poetry I didn’t understand. Over the years, I’ve come to realize that humans hide their wisdom in this way, and the verse can reveal it to you at the most surprising times.
Lo! in the middle of the wood,
The folded leaf is woo’d from out the bud
With winds upon the branch, and there
Grows green and broad, and takes no care,
Sun-steep’d at noon, and in the moon
Nightly dew-fed; and turning yellow
Falls, and floats adown the air.
Lo! sweeten’d with the summer light,
The full-juiced apple, waxing over-mellow,
Drops in a silent autumn night.
It’s not Yeats. Ah, my memory isn’t what it used to be. It’s Tennyson. If I recall, that poem didn’t turn out well.
I decide it’s time to say something. « Aran is probably right. We should keep moving. »
No one pays attention. I’m not generally a loud speaker, and it is probably difficult to hear my voice over all the noise that Constantine is making.
« It will wear off, » rasps Aran. « A glass of nau’gsh wine generally lasts about four hours. »
Aran is staring at me, his eyes sunken and hollow. « Tie me to the mast, » he says.
« If you drank the wine, why don’t you go have fun? I don’t think we’re going anywhere in the immediate future. The important thing is to make sure that nobody drinks any more of it. »
« Axel and Tannon have something going, » Aran replies. « Mickey and Valentine were quick to take up Constantine on his offer. I’m the odd man out. I don’t mind. I’ve never been deeply involved in the pre-pollination scene. »
The way he’s staring at me, it doesn’t seem like he doesn’t mind. Also, what does he mean by the pre-pollination scene? I decide to ask.
He looks surprised. « You’re – what’s the term Driscoll uses – a scenester. One of the most prominent ones. »
« I’m a scenester? »
« You’re always holding art salons at your flat which turn into notorious orgies. »
« That’s more Lorcan than me. He just invites everyone to my place. »
« So you’re not getting laid during pollination? »
« I…I didn’t exactly say that. »
He leans closer to me. « By whom? By Lorcan? »
« Sometimes, although Lorcan usually is preoccupied with either Driscoll or Jamey. I don’t really have a steady partner; sometimes it’s a threesome with Harsh and Beat, or if Lorcan is with Driscoll, I end up making out with Hurley. I guess I do Seth a lot. On rare occasions, Jamey. And BJ once. And Constantine, of course. Oh, and Tarlach, but who hasn’t? »
« I haven’t, » says Aran, looking at me with widened eyes. « You seem so quiet, Sloane, so innocent and romantic. But you’re really quite the sophisticate, aren’t you? »
« That’s what happens when you get drawn into Lorcan’s orbit, » I murmur.
« Don’t blame Lorcan. You not only participate…you relish it, don’t you? »
I feel suddenly accused. I check my irritation, trying to formulate an adequate reply. But Aran begins again, roaring, « So why are you too good for this? » He waves an open bottle at me.
« I’m not. I’m just trying to keep a clear head. I’m not the one who’s too good for everything. I’m not the one who’s uncompromising. »
Holy compost. He’s furious now, and a furious Aran is a terrifying sight. But he’s all the more furious because I’m right. He never gets branch action, never. He sits alone in his room during pollination. He’s half Ailann and half Patrick, and he could have his choice of the younger twigs, but instead, he’s aloof. And now it’s making me angry, too.
He looks like he’s going to hit me, but before he has a chance, I dive in and kiss him.
“Sloane Lord Redmond. 2nd to emanate, 73 in the color scale, resonates to 367. 1.755 meters tall, cock size 17.09 cm when erect, apparent age 33. Master of Horse of Tara del D’myn, Empress of Skarsia. Totem is Acacia (Vachellia) tortilis, the umbrella thorn acacia, fixed star is Kurhah, the blaze upon the horse’s brow. Esoteric symbol is the Minchiate trump L’impiccato, the Hanged or Suspended Man. Dessert is a heart-shaped assortment: truffles with surprise fillings, chocolate-covered candied nau’gsh, and various hard sweets. Function is facilitative initiation, proto-conscious tendency is romance, designated Devoted. Blazon is tan, within a bordure potenté argent, a winged spur, argent.”
« Sloane, #37: “Steal a dangerous kiss,” » says Wynne.
« I almost missed it, » says Ace. « I was too busy paying attention to Axel and Tannon. »
« Sloane, I am fucking impressed, » says Lorcan, « but I am going to kick your ass if you don’t do him. »
« It isn’t nice to be a cock-tease, » Tommy adds.
Aran is frozen, stunned. His eyes are enormous; his lower lip trembles.
“His Most Sublime and Excellent Radiance Aran del Eden’d, 4th Archon of Skarsia. 28th to emanate, 65 in the color scale, resonates to 313. 1.819 meters tall, cock size 17.02 cm when erect, apparent age 42. Archon of Goliath. Totem is Parrotia persica, Persian ironwood, fixed star is Sirius, scorching. Esoteric symbol is the Minchiate trump Imperatrice, the Empress, Eastern Duke or Eastern Archon. Dessert is nau’gsh bombe glacée. Function is administrative gravity, proto-conscious tendency is rigidity, designated Uncompromising. Blazon is sable, a bordure embattled magenta.”
« Aran found his virginity, » Wynne reports.
« Totem is giant ironwood, proto-conscious tendency is rigidity, » says Lorcan. « This all sounds very promising, Sloane. »
But it isn’t because everyone is crowding into Aran’s branch, and he’s mortified. It’s like I’m facing some wild creature – a lion, a shark, a dobergator – at its most vulnerable, and it could become all claws and gashes at any moment.
All right, so I’m a scenester, and we need to get rid of this wine anyways. I grab the bottle from his hand and take an enormous swig. « We made the achievements, » I say, handing the bottle back. « So we’re not being distracted. We’re celebrating. »
I lean close to him. « We’d better drink it before Mickey or Valentin or Constantine gets their hands on it again. »
Aran nods and takes the bottle. « Let him save face, » Lorcan whispers to me privately. « You’re slicker than I thought. »
Now I’m slick. What the hell?
« Remember, » shouts Axel drunkenly, « the pride of the Ascomanni is in their spears!
Further Curious Tales of the Chevalier’s Arbor: Set Up