Editing Red Sword Calls-FB Posts (section)

=== 5270-Jurt Ponders ===

Thin Whip hadn't always been this nervous. He let his thoughts think aloud in his head.

Something about her scared him deeply and that had made the sex wild. It made waking up each morning an adventure. Would there be coffee on the table? Wine in a jug? A Puma Cultist nailed to the cieling? a knife at his throat? It could be anything!

But there was too much of the wild wicked crazy about her, even for him, and she was Random's problem now. Sitting in a cell in the dungeons of Castle Amber was probably not grounds for divorce. Of course he had married her in the tomb of Brand with a drunk Unicorn Priest and a collection of party goers and tourists. Friggin' Truman sat there playing the wedding march on that 16 string guitar. How was he to know that the shit would not only be legal, binding, and magically dangerous but sticky as hell?

Hell was something he knew about. It took a lot to make someone who had assayed the Logrus think that people from the Abyss were quaint by comparison. Turns out the Azcalan crowd was freakier then the friggin' Rim Lords and the Calrabon Butcher Wizards. He needed a divorce and quick. He'd would have liked an annulment but they had consummated like bunnies, bunnies on Old Mink, and people had watched. Maybe there was something on the books about not being in one's right mind. That he could get witnesses for.

He would have to hunt that human lawyer down and ask him a few questions. Maybe call in that favor and have him handle the legal case. Roth. Merlin brought him to Amber a frail aging widower staring decrepitude in the face. After a year he was sporting a short blade and brown hair, squiring Flora to the theater, hunting with Gerard and Julian, Fishing with Caine. Taking meetings with the King and the ambassador from the Courts.

After a decade here he had an estate, a mithril circlet, a Grant of Arms, offices in the castle, a son in the military, a daughter in law serving under Flora, a granddaughter in the Page program, and one of the Urien Pack on his arm. Of course the Urien Pack had a well covered tab at Thin Whip's Place. So that's where Roth had come with his Urian girl and after 56 hours owed him a favor.

Writing favors-owed on the back of business cards was entertaining as hell. And Thin Whip had a pocket full of the peckers after running his roving rave in Amber for all these years.

Turning over his wife to the King had given him castle privileges again.

Maybe Arlo first. That twitchy bastard knew all the angles. He might see a way out of this for me. Well, there are advantages to being the brother of the Ambassador to Amber from the Courts of Chaos. His own Amber lineage kept getting him invited to family dinners too.

Withdrawing a Trump of a frazzled looking man leaning over a parchment, a smoking candle before him. Concentrating the contact opens.

Looking up, the man asks, “Yes, Jurt? To what do I owe the pleasure?”