"No," Tahirah says, with a small shake of her head.  "I don't know who it is, but I know why, and that is often more important."  She considers for a moment, and then brings out another card - different from the rest, this one clearly depicts a man.  "I am permitted to bring my own assistants, am I not?" she asks Elisabeth.  And she does, in fact, wait for the answer.

But either way, when she has it, she starts concentrating on the card.

"All of the other Ambassadors have their own staff.  Most, in fact, brought their own secretaries." Elisabeth replies, then falls silent.

In Tahirah's hand, the card grows colder.  Ice cold.  The air around the white robed woman seems to cool noticeably, and Elisabeth shivers and folds her arms around herself to ward off the chill.

A face comes into view before Tahirah - skin like old, worn parchment stretched over a deformed skull, with wispy strands of white hair hanging down to the collar of a black robe.  One eye a sightless milky white orb, the other a pale watery blue, blazing with some insane intelligence.

Ferenc... a Lord of Charyk... he looks older than Tahirah recalls.

His voice reaches her, like the sound of dry leaves blown on a cold wind, "What?  Oh, it's you.  Where have you been?  There have been four attempts on my life this week alone, and you were not here to warn me of them."

Tahirah smiles suddenly.  "If you had needed warning, I would most sincerely apologize," she offers.  "But it is so difficult to imagine anyone wanting to harm you that it obscures my powers.  I have been...busy," she says, more seriously.  "If you would, I need your help.  It would require posing as my subordinate," she warns.  "I know that you  have much to deal with already, but I have taken position as Charyk's Ambassador to the Kingdom of Amber, and I find that I lack your political acumen.  It is warm here, however, and the food is good, and it would take some time for your enemies to find you."  As she talks, she makes a small gesture with her hand; speak more in private.

"You are, of course, correct, as usual." Ferenc says, and the chill of his voice seems to lower the temperature in Tahirah's chambers, "You do lack my political talents."

"I do believe that this is the first time since we became acquainted that you have come to me for help with anything.  As long as you do not intend to make a habit of it, then I have no objection to providing you with such aid on this occasion."

The smile that accompanies his words is less than reassuring, resembling, as it does, the grimace of some feral beast rather than any human expression.  "Beside which, since you absented yourself from Charyk, the climate has become unhealthy.  Perhaps a change of scenery would improve my condition."

And an infinitesimal nod.  I agree.  We will speak in private.

Tahirah offers her hand.  "Thank you."  She draws him forward, and then steps aside, presenting him to Elisabeth.  "Elisabeth, it is my honor to present Lord Ferenc, one of the great Lords of Charyk.  Lord Ferenc, this is Elisabeth, assigned as my aide by Princess Florimel of Amber."

Ferenc steps through into the room and Elisabeth recoils slightly at his sudden appearance.  Or it could be the smell.  It's apparent that personal hygiene has not been a priority for him recently.  And underlying the rank odour of stale sweat, there is stench of decay, as if the man's flesh is rotting where he stands.

Nonetheless, she manages to bow her head and give an appropriate greeting, "Welcome to Amber, Lord.  I have heard much of Charyk, and nothing that was bad."

If Ferenc disbelieves her statement, he shows no sign of it.  His single functional eye swivels in its socket as he takes in the room, "My thanks.  I am sure that Charyk is not as splendid as this... this... Amber."

The eye fixes on Tahirah, as Ferenc settles his bony frame into a chair, "Now then, Seer.  Please explain to me what sort of help you require."

"Perceptive," Tahirah replies.  "And deductive.  If I may speak so boldly, I think that Amber could learn much from Charyk; their defenses are... unprepared.  In comparison to what we are used to."  She shrugs a little, giving Elisabeth a faintly apologetic look.  "But that is not my purpose here.  There is one here, highly placed and quite possibly of the Royals themselves, who is aiding their enemies - and I am tasked with finding them."  She bites at her lower lip for a moment.  "But seeking for what would turn someone against their home, hoping that the motive might help me learn who it is, I found instead that they have not turned.  I am seeking a traitor who acts out of loyalty; believing either that what they do is best for Amber, or that the Archon's cause is truly just.  Either way, there is no guilt to watch for, no blackmail to dig up, or secret rewards to uncover."

"Ah... the worst sort of traitor, to be sure."

Ferenc nods his head sagely, "Certainly the hardest to root out.  A man who believes he is doing no wrong is less certain to give himself away with some guilty misstep.  But I can find him for you."

"I shall, of course, need to see the dungeon before I start."  His expression is like that of a master wood carver, considering which tools will best draw out the shape hidden within a piece of timber.  "I have to know what implements are available to me, and how well they are kept.  I've no doubt the flensing hooks are of poor quality.  Sadly they always are."

"And I shall need food, and the best wine the cellar can offer.  No, make that the third best.  Nobody wastes poison on the third best wine."

The silence stretches uncomfortably, until Ferenc finally gives an exasperated sigh and explains, "It was a jest.  A little humour to inspire camaraderie and fellowship.  I wasn't really considering torture as a tool for rooting out your traitor.  There would be no point to that, as I have no inkling where I should start."

"Pain, as a tool, has its uses.  But not until you have found your criminal.  Or, in this case, your traitor."

Tahirah gives a brief wave.  "I know," she says.  "But your jest held a true question, and I was considering.  Our tools are limited.  As an Ambassador, I have considerable freedom of movement; as an associate of the agent Cyan, I have somewhat more.  We have subtlety, and perhaps surprise.  My divinations are useful, but have their limits, of course.  Being entirely new here, we have excuses to ask many questions of many people, but that is inherently fleeting.  We have support from the Princess Florimel," she nods to Elisabeth, "Assuming, of course, that it is not she; and we have support from the King, Random, also, though not his ear at this time."

"Such exalted company you keep these days.  Princesses and kings, no less.  Is it any wonder that you have no time, any more, for those who were so generous to you?" Ferenc says bitterly.  He taps one fingertip on the table three times, before pointing it at Elisabeth and asking, in a much more businesslike tone, "You know your way around this place... where would you suggest that we start?"

His eye fixes on her, and appears to be trying to bore into her head.

"I would suggest, Lord, the servants' quarters.  They say little, see much, and are, themselves, largely unseen as they move about the place.  They are loyal, and might be deceived into believing that what they do is for the good of Amber."

"Thank you." the eye swivels back to look at Tahirah, "Not the servants.  I would assume that, if they would make such ideal spies, they would be among the first suspects.  If a traitor has not been found among them then either such a traitor does not exist, at least not there, or Amber's spy masters are singularly inept."

"My own suggestion would be to start with the lords and ladies of this castle.  They would be above suspicion for many of the guards and servants, and have the most freedom of movement."

And then a change of tack, "This other name you mentioned, this Cyan... I have, I believe, heard it spoken elsewhere of late.

"And the most ability to cause harm," Tahirah notes, with a small sigh.  "But they are the most difficult to investigate, for that is where our freedom of movement ends.  Although not," she notes thoughtfully, "That of the servants.  If they are not the subject of our gaze, they might still be a good place to begin."

She hesitates a moment at his mention of Cyan.  "Where?" she asks.

"Using the servants to obtain information regarding their masters?  That might work, though one would have to take care to avoid their becoming suspicious and reporting such investigations to those masters."

He ponders Tahirah's question, then, "It was at a place called Nura.  I travelled there when Charyk became unbearable.  It's a dismal little port, which smells mostly of damp and decay.  And fish.  It's cold too, with a lazy wind - the sort which cuts through a person's flesh rather than going around."

"Very unpleasant place."  he shakes his head at the memory of Nura, or possibly the town is simply representative of how miserable his life has become recently.

"I was staying at what passes for an inn in that miserable little hole, and there was a woman there - at least she wore the guise of a woman... " and one finger lifts to tap his face, alongside his blind eye, "... but sometimes, when she moved, there were flaws, if one knew what to look for, and had the means to see.  She was asking everybody she met if they had seen another woman, called Cyan."

"Would you know her if you saw her again?" Tahirah asks.  Given who she's talking to, she decides she doesn't need to specify the, `even if she's a table next time' part.

She smiles.  "Here, I think the difficulty of our betrayer's motives is to our advantage.  We do not seek someone who is up to no good, but someone who is extremely loyal; and that, their servants may take pride in."

"Yes, I would likely know her again.  Or perhaps it would be a more accurate pronoun, since I can't be sure of the true form behind the mask.  There were, as I said, flaws which told me the woman was not truly a woman, but which gave no clue to the underlying shape."

Ferenc ponders for a moment, before adding, "If it is important, I might even be prepared to return to Nura, but only should it prove entirely necessary for me to do so."

"As for the servants... would that work?  Do servants take pride in their master's accomplishments and beliefs?  I had always thought most of mine far too dull to actually comprehend my own achievements and qualities."  He ignores the frown from Elisabeth before nodding to Tahirah, "Present company excluded."

Tahirah considers Ferenc's... offer, she supposes.  He wouldn't mention the possibility if he wasn't offering to do it, really.  "No," she decides.  "It's probably not entirely necessary."  His next question, though, is an easy one.

"I did," she says, simply.

"We should begin.  Charyk is new here; focusing our attentions only on the royalty would be a natural mistake.  Elisabeth, I would like to begin with the one named... Gerard.  How long would it be to arrange a meeting with one of his people?"

"That would depend, Excellency... " Ferenc chuckles, and Elisabeth favors him with a frown before continuing, "... in part upon who you would wish to speak to.  Certainly no more than two or three hours for most of them, and probably considerably less.  Though if you need to speak to his seneschal, who would likely know more of his master's activities than the others, it might take most of the day.  Mostly because protocol would require dealing with one or more subordinates first."

"Ah, yes.  Bureaucracy." sighs the former lord of Charyk, "Things are so much simpler when one is at the top of the tower, looking down."

"Simpler," Tahirah agrees, "But details are often lost."  She nods to Elisabeth.  "The Seneschal is too high - start us with someone simpler.  You said he is connected to the Navy, I think?  Perhaps someone involved in that," she suggests.

"I believe I know the very person." Elisabeth confirms, after the briefest of pauses, "There is a man who serves under Gerard's command, as a senior officer in Amber's fleet, who is married to my niece.  Would he do?  Because I also have a nephew, the son of my other sister, who is a deck-hand, should an officer be too highly placed."

"I'm sure either of them would be happy to recall the favours they owe me."

Ferenc laughs, a hideous, hissing titter, "One day, I intend to return to Charyk in triumph.  On that day I will doubtless need a new spy master.  I will be sure to use your own example as a template with which to assess the suitability of others.  Efficiency and connections!"

Tahirah inclines her head, with a soft smile.  "The officer sounds perfect," she agrees.  "Thank you."

Ferenc's praise draws a thoughtful, almost wistful look, and a nod.  "Doubtless."  She pauses a moment, and then looks back to Elisabeth.

"With your permission, Excellency, I shall go to make arrangements for you to meet with Aenoch.  I will leave you to reminisce with your countryman, and to consider your own plans."  Elisabeth stands, and favours Ferenc with a brief nod of her head, followed by a more formal bow for Tahirah.

"His ship is in dock for repair, and I am certain I know just where to find him.  If the unthinkable happens, and he proves not to be there, I can find out his whereabouts from his wife."

"Of course," Tahirah affirms, with a small wave.  She considers adding something, but another `thank you' would be effusive, and `tell me when you're done' seems far too obvious for someone of Elisabeth's professionalism.

Once she's gone, she sits back down.  "There is a beginning, at least," she says.  "And most of them, I think, will be similar; so long as we spread our questions out, it should be safe enough, I hope.  But how does one investigate a King?"

Ferenc smiles a hideous smile.  An expression to make babies cry and dogs cringe.

"Very carefully."

The smile vanishes, like some foul creature withdrawing into its lair, and his face returns to a more usual level of unpleasantness.

"I would never suggest investigating the king.  Investigate, instead, those around him.  Anything you discover about his servants, bodyguards, poison tasters, trap testers and other underlings will make them all too eager to reveal whatever secrets they know about their king, simply to keep their own hidden."

"That is, as you have realised, a sound tactic."

His voice drops a little, and he leans forward to add, in a confidential tone, "Another is to make it seems as if somebody else is responsible for those investigations.  Cause somebody else to take an interest in the king's staff and servants, and then steal their findings from them."

"Then, if the king grows suspicious that somebody seems to be asking questions, his attention will be drawn elsewhere."

Tahirah considers that for several moments, and then shakes her head slightly.  "That is - of course - brilliant, but under our current circumstances, it could backfire.  There is already one traitor to be found, and the King's own resources are presumably - if it is not him - already seeking them as well.  On principal, even if they know less than I do.  If we lead them astray, we could do great harm."

"The sound strategy, though, if a bit less," she smiles, "Convolutedly genius, is sound.  Thank you."

After a moment, she muses, "And I suppose that if our trail is picked up and does lead to us, we were set in place by Florimel.  There's no reason for the tracks to stop here."

Ferenc bows his head slightly, in partial deference to Tahirah's knowledge of the art of espionage.  "Of course, it would be simplicity itself itself to ensure that anybody investigating our part in discovering this plot will move directly on to much more likely targets."

He pauses, tapping one broken nail against a yellowed tooth for several heartbeats.  When he speaks again, his voice is lowered and his manner almost subservient, "Might I suggest that you change your servants, and particularly your secretary, at least once per month.  Weekly would be better.  The less time they have to find out about you, the better off you will be."

The nightmare smile returns, briefly, "This will be especially true if, on the day you change the servants, you also change the  direction of your investigation, and of your daily routine."