Lawyers, Swords and Secrets part 9

[tamoline]

Title: Lawyers, Swords and Secrets part 9
Author:Tamoline
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: The Good Wife (Crossover with Chronicles of Amber)
Pairing: Alicia/Kalinda

Notes: This is a completely different continuity to Flames of a Different Hue. Really. Do not carry assumptions about characters over.

Summary:
Alicia Cavanaugh is given a job offer she can't refuse after her divorce, putting her lawyering skills to work in a very different setting. And, if you don't count the somewhat antiquated society, the lack of electricity and the completely different universe she's found herself in, it's all going fairly well.

Up until the point where she encounters Princess Kalinda of Amber, that is.

"No," says Kalinda.

Well, that's slightly more succinct than I had been hoping for.

And it had all been going so well up until now.

After we see the prosecutor and his guard out, I turn towards Ciara.

"I don't suppose that you know where Kalinda is at the moment?"

Ciara shrugs. "She's never been one to give me an itinerary, sadly. But Morrian might be able to tell us. She likes to keep an eye on the situation."

I almost ask if she knows where *Morrian* is - I never see her around except at meals - but she's already off.

I follow behind, not entirely certain about whether I'm invited on this little excursion. She doesn't tell me otherwise, so I guess I am.

We head up the stairs, then up again. After navigating what I thought was the top floor, Ciara opens a door to reveal another, small, staircase I hadn't even known was there.

Up that set of stairs leads to the attic, which is surprisingly well lit, by a series of large windows, despite being filled with a large number of objects covered in white sheets. No dust on anything near me though - which either points to magic or simply that they'd put been put up here when the house was being prepared for Kalinda's use. One of the vertical walls is purely taken up by what look like hunting trophies. A vast array of creature heads (and other, less identifiable, parts) from legend and nightmare. Also what looks like a mounted fender from a large car, with teeth marks puncturing the metal.

There's probably a story there, but I forbear from asking Ciara about it.

She leads me through the maze and opens a door I hadn't noticed. Outside is a small patio in the middle of the roof, the main feature of which should be the mews.

I say should be, because the first thing that strikes me is the birds.

Large, black birds. Perching on almost every available surface.

And they all turn to look at us as we make ourselves visible.

Ciara seems unfazed by this remake of The Birds, and strides over to where Morrian is sitting cross-legged on the patio.

I, on the other hand, am occupied with the pecked carcass lying to one side. As I watch, a raven flaps in from elsewhere, and settles on it, tearing some meat from the bones with its beak.

It's all too vividly easy to imagine that beak being turned on me.

The body is probably just a side of meat from the kitchen.

Probably.

"Morrian!," Ciara calls. As I turn back to look at them, grateful for the distraction, I see her waving a hand in front of  Morrian's face. "*Sweetie*," she continues just as loudly.

Morrian's eyes flick open. She moves her head jerkily, taking in Ciara and me, before turning to look at Ciara inquiringly.

"We need to find the General."

Morrian looks blank for a moment, then nods. She raises a hand imperiously, and Ciara helps her to her feet. She walks to a seemingly random bird, picks it up, whispers to it before kissing it almost gently and releasing it into the air.

"Follow the bird," she says in a raspy voice that's almost a croak, then brushes her lips over Ciara's.

She then turns and advances towards me.

Great.

I glance towards Ciara, who holds up her hand in a steadying manner.

"Follow the bird," she says to me in exactly the same tone. She then goes up on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to my forehead.

I don't know why, but I can't help expecting her breath as it brushes across my face to smell of corruption, of days old meat.

It doesn't.

It doesn't smell of anything at all.

Her lips are cold and almost hard, but that doesn't explain the chill that runs through me at their touch.

Nor the fact that afterwards, I know which bird she means, my eyes easily finding it amongst the dozens on the roof.

I just *know*.

I shiver, and Morrian acquires a slight smile on her face which, more than anything, is enough to put the stiffness back into me.

"This bird will take us to Kalinda?" I ask, and I'm impressed at how calm and collected I sound.

Morrian nods, then says to Ciara, "She's currently at a noble's house."

Ciara visibly tenses. "Do you know whose it is?" she says, her speech far more terse than its usual lackadaisical flow.

"No."

Ciara untenses a little, then looks over at me. She makes a wry, unconvincing expression. "Sounds like we've got a function to attend."

"Because Kalinda's such a big party girl?" I ask. I can't actually imagine the Kalinda I've come to lightly know actually being happy at such a thing, but maybe Ciara will appreciate the image.

Her smile becomes a little more genuine, so maybe I've helped, a little. "That's the General, through and through." She shrugs, "Though it probably helps that noble society is so very fond of doing business at such events."

We're just about to go when Morrian catches Ciara's hand, and holds it tightly. "We can always try my solution," she says in her usual even tone, her grip on Ciara the only sign of emotion.

Looking down at her, the stiffness leaves Ciara completely, and her smile is just fond. "I do appreciate the thought, but the General probably wouldn't." She sighs, a little theatrically. "Maybe next time."

Morrian glances jerkily towards me, and lets Ciara's hand go. Ciara and I give her our farewells, but she's already sunk back down onto the patio and doesn't respond.

Still, we're deep within the house before I ask. "Morrian's solution?"

"She wants to give noble society a new and exciting meaning to the phrase 'a murder of crows'. I've managed to dissuade her, so far." And I'm not entirely certain whether or not the wistful tone in her voice is just part of the joke or not.

Since the place we'll be travelling to is also in the noble district, Ciara allows me to cry off using the hellbeasts otherwise known as horses.

After a little humour at my expense, naturally. Thank you, Ciara.

Walking the streets feels a different now to just a few weeks ago. Not only has the daily weapons practise started making itself known in my level of fitness, but the fact that I'm carrying a weapon and know the basics of how to use it changes things.

It changes everything.

All the people around me, all the people carrying weapons of one kind of another, they're no longer other.

We're the same in one way that we weren't before.

Despite the fact that I'm under no illusions about my capabilities if faced with someone who actually knows what they're doing, I do actually feel safer.

I'm starting to fit in here, a realisation that gives me a distinctly mixed feeling.

If nothing else, I'm going back to Earth after this.

Aren't I?

No matter.

That's a question for after this business is over.

Morrian's bird flies hither and yon, leading, leading, attracting my eye so much that its image almost burns black into my retina.

It seems almost a wonder that everyone in the street isn't looking up, pointing.

But, in the end, I have to remind myself that it's just a crow.

Just being a crow is, in fact, the point.

It takes perch, finally, on the roof of a manor. And then a pressure I wasn't even aware of is suddenly gone. It's just a crow again, no different to any other.

It's something of a relief as the ghost of Morrian's presence dissipates.

"I'm guessing this is the place, then," I say.

I glance towards Ciara, who looks only a little pained.

"It could be worse," she tells me cheerfully enough. "It could always be worse."

We don't get in, of course.

Guards, men all, dressed in mail, move to block us as soon as we approach the gate.

"What's your business here?" one of them says. He looks like he's in his thirties, with a scar puckered to white running down one side of his face.

Ciara takes point. "Message for Princess Kalinda."

The man hesitates for a moment, then nods at another of the guards, who moves off towards the house. A few minutes later, the guard comes out again, accompanied by someone who is distinctly *not* Kalinda.

It's another man, dressed well, if not quite as intricately as some of the nobles I've seen.

When he gets to the gate, there's a glint of recognition as he looks at Ciara, and then his gaze slides straight over her as though she isn't there and fastens on me.

Even then, it's more than a little condescending.

I'm not sure if it's because I'm not a man, not a native, not a noble or any of the other many things I'm not.

"What message can I pass onto the Princess?" he asks, punctilious and sounding *just* as condescending as his look implies.

In the end, it doesn't really matter why he's behaving towards me the way he is.

When he just looked at Ciara as though she wasn't there, she *twitched*.

Just a little, hopefully slight enough that no one else noticed, but there, nonetheless.

It makes me briefly sympathise with Morrian's point of view, and I wish, fiercely, that she was here to back Ciara up.

I can't imagine anyone treating Ciara that way with Morrian's too calm gaze on them.

I draw myself up, and pinion the man with the iciest glare I can muster.

"I sent a message for the Princess. Not... what is your name?"

He shifts a little, uncomfortable, but not yet ready to back down. "None of your business, madam," he says, somehow managing to make the word rhyme with barbarian. "But it *is* my business to know who would like to disturb a guest at this party and why."

"It's private, and for the princess' ears only," I say with something that's not so much a smile as a baring of teeth. He starts to draw himself up, but I cut him off smoothly. "Unless you'd like to debate that with her?" I ask silkily.

He looks like he's caught halfway between bluster and fear, so I decide to nudge the balance in my favour.

"And it's *urgent*," I add. "So, I ask again, what is the name of the person who is wasting the valuable time of a princess of Amber?"

He breaks my gaze, unable to hold it, and instead hisses to the guard. "Keep them here. Politely. Whilst I check out this  story of..."

"Alicia Cavanaugh," I insert.

"The lady," he says. And the threat of what will happen if we don't check out is unspoken but still very much there.

It would probably be more intimidating if he wasn't already scuttling back towards the house.

Ciara offers me an amused look, but I can see the gratitude lurking behind the cheerfulness.

"You really didn't have to," she murmurs.

"I really did," I reply quietly yet crisply.

The man returns a few minutes later, almost running in his haste.

"This way, honoured visitors," he almost pants when he arrives. "The princess is awaiting you in a private room. My apologies for the delay."

"And your apology to Ciara, personally," I say pleasantly, but with more than a hint of steel. "For the way you treated her."

For a moment, I think he's going to protest, but then he ducks his head. "Of course. The way you were treated was regrettable, Lady-"

"Captain," Ciara interjects. "Just Captain Ciara will do fine." She gives him a smile devoid of her usual humour. "That's all I am now, after all."

He nods. "Of course. Captain Ciara. My apologies, once again."

I look at Ciara, and she shakes her head in dismissal. "That's a perfectly adequate apology," I tell him. "Thank you."

He wisely remains silent for the remainder of the time it takes to lead us through the house to an ornately carved wooden door. "The Princess Kalinda," he says, then opens the door and quickly flees.

Kalinda's waiting inside, propping herself up against a desk. Her clothes are fine - far better cut than the others I've seen her wear. They somehow endeavour to be suggestive of the kind of femininity that seems to be high fashion in Amber, whilst still managing to conform, more or less, to the functional lines she generally seems to favour.

"Well?" she asks, arching one eyebrow.

I hesitate for a moment, then look behind me at Ciara. "Would you mind waiting out here?"

Ciara grins at me. "Not a problem, my lady," she says, sweeping a bow. "I promise to guard the door with my life, and keep it free from any snoopers."

"Clown," I tell her, then enter the room and close the door behind me.

"I had a visit from Corwin's prosecutor this morning," I say. "He had an offer for you." I proceed to outline the terms. "Do you think we should accept it?"

Kalinda takes hardly a second to consider the proposal. "No," she says.

Well, that's slightly more succinct than I had been hoping for.

And it had all been going so well up until now.

"Why not?" I ask in an attempt to gain further elucidation.

I mean, I know that Bran had been trying to hustle me. I just don't know *how*.

Maybe, if the stars are right, Kalinda will actually deign to enlighten me.

"If I apologise to Corwin, publically, he wins," she elaborates. Apparently I *am* being lucky today. "Especially if I concede defeat even before the trial."

"*What* does he win?"

"We're both trying to gather support from the same part of Amber society, as I've been reminding him since he had me confined to Amber. On my side I have the fact that I was here during the most recent war, that I fairly directly helped save the city and that I haven't attacked it in the past few decades. On his side he has the fact that he's centuries older than me and that he's a man. At the moment, it's a stalemate. The second I admit in public that he's my superior, explicitly or not, that's over."

"You won't be much of a political contender if you manage to get exiled. Or executed."

She smiles thinly. "As much as it pains me to admit it, my mother won't let me be killed. Doubtless, I'd very abruptly find myself in another part of the universe," she says, and there's an dark edge to her words that I don't feel like probing right now. "As for exile... well, I know people. I doubt there's anything anyone could do to stop me talking to them, relaying things through them. And it wouldn't do Corwin any good to be the person who got a princess exiled for catching a spy."

"It would help the queen," I point out. "To weaken both of you."

She nods. "But I don't think either of them thought I'd have you defending me."

I suppress the urge to blush. "It's not settled yet."

"No. But Corwin hasn't finished bargaining yet, either."

"Well, I'm sorry to have bothered you. I just thought that it was something you should know." I brush myself off. "I guess you've got a party to get back to." Kalinda holds her hand out, and I pause. "Is there anything else?" I ask her.

"Now that you're here... would you do me the honour of being my companion for the afternoon?"

I freeze.

This... really isn't what I signed on for.

And no matter how attractive Kalinda may be, she's still my client.

On the other hand, she's also a princess.

"Why?" I ask cautiously.

"Do I need a reason to ask an attractive woman to accompany me for a party?" she asks, smirking a little.

I give her a flat gaze.

The smirk vanishes. "There are some people here that it might be useful for you to know. For the trial. It will make things easier if you're introduced as my companion."

I gesture down at myself. "I'm not exactly dressed for anything like this."

"You'll be fine. You're dressed in Earth fashion. It's exotic. And given that both the Queen and Corwin spent some centuries there, it's the *right kind* of exotic."

It's for a case. It's for the most bizarre and outrageous case of my life, but still. It's for a case.

I can do this.

I nod. "Okay. But, just to be clear, I'm here purely as your lawyer. Nothing else."

The lines of Amber propriety may be different to the ones that I'm used to, but I'm making my stand here.

"Understood," Kalinda says. "Will you take my hand?"

I accede to her request, and we leave the room together.

Ciara, loitering outside as she had said she would, shoots us a look.

"Alicia has agreed to be my companion for the afternoon," Kalinda says smoothly.

Ciara's expression turns a little troubled, but just says, "I'll be waiting with the other guards, Alicia, for when you want to leave."

"Are you sure?" I ask softly.

Apparently too softly, because her face transforms into its usual mask of cheerfulness. "I'm sure that I can survive a few hours of bad beer and losing some money at card games."

Fair enough. "I'll see you later, then," I say, then Kalinda whisks me away in the direction of the function.

"Is there anything I should know about?" she asks.

If Ciara wanted her to know... "No," I say.

Kalinda doesn't look exactly convinced, but doesn't push further.

And then we're there.

After a quiet word from Kalinda, the herald at the door announces, "Alicia Cavanaugh of Earth, companion to Princess Kalinda."

An immediate ripple of interest runs through the crowd, and I have just enough time to heave an internal sigh before we plunge into the sea of people.

It isn't exactly my first time at this kind of event. The Florricks were, after all, known for entertaining. Especially during voting season.

But familiarity, by itself, isn't exactly a comfort, bringing back all kinds of uncomfortable memories.

In some ways, it's just the same.

The way people treat me, like I'm some brainless fluff, just there adorn someone else's shoulder. The way that, even when they're talking to me, half the time, more, they're actually talking to my partner. The way that, though the alcohol is flowing freely, drinking it won't help one bit, in the long run.

Sometimes, I can feel Peter's ghost haunting me so strongly, I almost expect to see him standing there when I turn around.

In other ways, it's worse.

The way that, unlike before, I honestly don't know much, if anything, about the topics of conversation that keep on coming up. The way that makes me *feel* brainless in a way that being with Peter never actually did. The way that everyone here knows I'm just a temporary adornment, that I'm not worth treating with any more respect than the minimum necessary to avoid angering Kalinda.

I meet the people Kalinda wants me to, of course. I even manage to get what we want out of them.

But I can tell that, in their eyes, I'm not anywhere even close to an equal, and that knowledge *burns*.

And in a few, surprising, ways it's better.

Over the last few weeks, I've started to come to know this odd, enigmatic woman besides me. Not much, of course. But here, amongst the nobles of Amber society, it quickly becomes clear how much more I know her than anyone else here.

The way that the men that can't quite seem to treat her military title with all due seriousness. The way that most of the women ply her with edged compliments. Never quite enough to call anyone on, of course, but the meaning behind the compliments about her 'daring' clothes is quite, quite clear. And the way that her upbringing, not in Amber but in some unknown world, is a constant elephant in the room, often obliquely referred to, but never directly addressed.

It's not much - not even a twitch - but I feel her hand tighten on mine now and again, and I can't help wonder if I've completely misjudged the reasons for her asking me here.

So I smile and parry and cover for her with all the skill acquired from years as a politician's wife.

It's not much, probably not enough, but it's the best I can do.

And, at the end of the afternoon, I'm treated to one of her enigmatic smiles that seems just a touch more genuine than usual, just before I'm handed off to Ciara.

"Things to do, trouble to cause," she says sardonically. "A Princess' job is never done," she adds, and there's more than a hint of bite to her voice as she says the title.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Tomorrow. The trial.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," she says, and then she's off.

Ciara and I watch her leave, then Ciara turns to me. "Back home?" she asks.

I nod, and we set off.

The silence lasts until we're out of the gate and some way down the street. Finally, Ciara breaks it. "Just so you know, the General doesn't do relationships," she says, eyes firmly fixed forwards.

Wait, I think. *What*?

Apparently oblivious to my utter confusion regarding the bombshell she's just dropped, she continues, "I mean, she hardly does spring dalliances, but..."

"Spring dalliances?" I croak, managing to find something - my ignorance - to hang onto.

Anything that isn't...

She does look at me then, just a quick glance, but then she looks forward again. "Marriages are pretty much for life in Amber. Unless you're powerful enough to get a divorce, or just don't care about the social consequences. But pretty much no one gets married before they're a century old. Before then..." she shrugs. "You can have practise relationships. Spring dalliances. Nothing serious," she says, and the last has more than an edge of bitterness to it.

It's one of those times, one of those rare times, that I almost wish that I was more touchy feely. On the other hand I'm not sure how Ciara would react, so it's probably just as well.

"And that was Kalinda?" I ask, as gently as I can.

She jerks a little, then laughs. "*Unicorn*, no. What Kalinda and I had..." she says, then smiles ruefully. "Whatever it was, I certainly wouldn't classify it as a spring dalliance. It was... It was just something that helped to keep her together, during the bad parts of the war, nothing more. I was never under any illusions about *that*."

"And now..?"

"And now, nothing. I've got," she says, and gestures vaguely in the air. "*Things* to occupy myself with. And, anyway, like I said, the General doesn't do relationships."

Which brings me neatly back to where we started the conversation, and I feel like I can start to face it. "And what does this have to do with me?"

It's not that she isn't attractive. It's not even that some traitorous part of my brain hasn't tagged her with the word 'hot'...

It's just not relevant.

"She introduced you as her companion. That... It wouldn't be fair to give you hopes that anything you're having with the General could be more. That's all."

"Anything..." I take a breath, then continue. "There is nothing between Kalinda and I. *Nothing*. She's my client. I'm her lawyer. Nothing else." I'm aware my voice is cold, that Ciara really doesn't deserve this, but...

Is that what everyone in there thought?

That I was in a *relationship* with Kalinda?

"Is that what you thought?" I continue. "That there was *something* between Kalinda and me?"

"I honestly wasn't sure," she says, stopping and turning to look at me levelly. "I respect the both of you enough to trust that you could handle anything that came up."

That's... better. It's something, at any rate, and I feel like I can breathe again.

But still...

"What was she *thinking*?"

"I'm not entirely certain. She's an outlander, much as you are, and sometimes..." She shrugs. "Things just don't have the same meaning for her. If there *is* nothing between you... my best guess is that she was handing you a weapon, and a shield. If people think that you are more than just a lawyer, they'll treat you more seriously," she says. "The royal family are known to be touchy about those close to them, and since you're such a newcomer, that would be the easiest slot for you to fill. Even if it's only by intimation. And the princes and princesses aren't exactly known to choose companions that are lacking in wits."

"I see," I say. When looked at that way, it did make a twisted kind of sense. And she had warned me, technically. Though she certainly hadn't explained the full implications.

"Would you like me to have a word with her?" Ciara asks cautiously.

I smile tightly. "No. You're right. I'm old enough to handle this myself."

"Noted. But if you need any backup..."

"Thanks," I tell her, a little touched.

Ciara, willing to face down her General? For me?

It means something.

"No problem," she says. "Besides, I'm still hoping to recruit you when all this is over."

This is, of course, the first *I've* heard of this. "Oh?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Chaos invaded a few decades back. Religious reasons. The queen seems to be convinced that won't happen again. Some of us... aren't quite so trusting."

"An organised us?"

"The General has a talent for organisation. And for finding people who are willing to devote their lives to such a cause."

"And what has this got to do with me? I'm not exactly eager to dedicate myself to that kind of fight. Besides, it doesn't sound like you need a lawyer."

"You'd be surprised about that. Also, though I might be a minority, I do think that we could do with some cooler heads being involved." She smiles winningly. "No fanaticism required. Also, I'm sure we could offer competitive pay and unique challenges."

Her offer to train me with weapons suddenly makes a certain amount of sense. Though I can't imagine that I'll be in the market for any kind of unique challenge after this case, and almost say so.

But, instead, I find myself temporising. "I'll think about it," I tell her.

"Thanks," she says, somewhat seriously. And then the devil is back in her eyes. "As an added bonus, the General is usually pretty good about not flirting with my personnel. Though I'm sure she'd make an exception if you asked nicely enough."

I cut her dead with my eyes, but that deters her not one jot.

Thankfully, she then moves onto complaining about the city guard, and how they've gone downhill since Corwin took over.

Within the earshot of a couple of them, naturally.

And so life returns to normal, I think.

At least until tomorrow.