I write to you of happier times on this occasion - of one of a few lights I have passed along this corridor of dark fire that has led to my current state. I will speak again, at long last - of dearest Daller.
I write of a bright afternoon, late in the year of our foul betrayer 84. I was Mikel, Master Guildsman, living in Eregnor. I was an active supplier of the resistance against both Begma and Amber's attempts to suppress Eregnor's independence movement. I fought for Eregnor, it is true - but I also fought for the Golden Circle, and for all Shadow. If Dara is not stopped here, her engines of conquest and destruction will mill away at reality after reality, until all that is left is her great visage staring into the Abyss.
Wait - that is not why I write this missive. I will continue.
My role in the Resistance was to 'supply' it with Guild equipment - and especially with Guild weapons. I would arrange for a shipment's location and route to be intercepted, and for the goods stolen. This way, the fact that I was also directly supplying the Resistance with arms could be explained away as the thievery of terrorists. The Resistance was highly cellularized, with each member knowing only three or four others. Because of the sensitive nature of my involvement, I had been even more rigidly contained. Tillwind was really my only contact - an organizer who knew how to contact a few militiamen and could create a raid when needed. I met with Tillwind once a week, at a street cafe near to the Guildhouse in Eregnor. There had been a brief lull of peace, lasting for most of that year, in which Eregnor was 'recognized' by Amber and Begma as an independent nation. Eregnor had even raised something of an army to defend itself. But the peace had not lasted. Benedict had smashed the green and new army, and was now picking off individual pockets of resistance - in reality, towns that still possessed freedom and loved it - and crushing them. His army was a town or two away, and had not been seen moving in this direction. We thought we were safe - but did not risk exposure in any event. It would be a hard life indeed if we had to move to a city already taken by Amber - we were already hearing of grindingly harsh and harrowed lives of those resistance fighters who chose to return to towns Benedict had left behind.
As always, I simply selected a meal and sat down. After a minute or so, Tillwind would arrive and select his meal, and would quietly join me. We would eat our meal in relative silence, save for our comments on 'passersby' - which usually were code phrases for routes, targets and cargo. So, the phrase "See the woman in the red gown? Aye, she's quite the tasty treat." would essentially translate to "There is a weapons shipment being delivered by wagon." (This was selected specifically because of the frequent taste of Eregnorian women for red dresses, and the frequency by which weapons were moved over land instead of by sea.) We had exchanged our information for the day, and were really just enjoying the soft breeze, the flavor of our meals, and the quiet pride of working for the freedom of many.
Our rather lazy post-briefing rest was interrupted, however, as we heard the name of Mikel being used near the counter where food was brought from the inn to the servers who delivered it to table. I coughed briefly and plunged back into my soup, and Tillwind swiveled his chair around to partially face away from me and towards the street. I knew he was seeing what other activity was taking place, for we both had heard the voice of a young female ask for me. Hardly a threat, we believed - but she might merely be the point of the arrow.
And oh, yes - dearly she was. The arrow of love had never struck me so sure or so quick as it did as she advanced quickly through the spaces between tables towards us. She had flowing golden-blond hair that fluttered gently in the breeze, and her face was earnest, yet tender and afraid. Her clothes were those of a city runner, one who carried messages across town at the will of the local government. It was a simple uniform - brown breeches, a white shirt with a red vest, and black gloves - but on her, it was smart, practical and charming all at once. I barely heard her as she came to the table.
"Master Mikel, your attention is desired by City Assistant Quartermaster Valir at your first convenience. If I may escort you there?"
My soup caught in my throat as she spoke - such a lovely voice, sultry and lyrical. The words took a second to grip me - but Tillwind was already standing up. "Oh, my goodness, how I've tarried!" I looked up in wide-eyed amazement at his words, barely capable of speech at all now. He never even looked back as he moved with fervor towards the street. Meanwhile, I was being 'helped' out of my chair in some urgency. Had I been more resistant, it would have been easy to maintain my bearing, as my Avernian build was quite much more robust than that of Eregnor - and especially the females of the land. But I stumbled up and moved backwards a full yard before I managed to turn around.
"What are you doing, madam? The City Hall is that way!" I pointed back towards the street, but still moved towards where she was dragging me - a side alley leading alongside the restaurant and back into the crevices and nooks of the city.
"Please, Master. He is on-site at a construction project, away from the Hall. Please - attend quickly!" Her voice spoke of earnest business, but her eyes looked over my shoulder and down the street - with a note of ominous anticipation. I abandoned my skepticism until we were off the main venues, which took but a moment.
"Excuse me, young lady." I was whispering, but in strong and harsh form. "What are you doing? Who are you? Why are we headed towards dockside?"
She looked at me with an exasperation I hadn't seen in years. When you are either a Prince of the realm or a Master Guildsman, somewhere along the line people stop thinking that they can call you an idiot.
"Idiot!" She breathed it quietly. "Do you not know a rescue when you see one? Benedict's sent an advance unit here - to intercept weapons supplies! And guess which local eatery his men are moving to right now to question people?"
I stopped short. "Tillwind--"
She waved my concern away. "Tillwind would not be doing what he does if that was a concern. He has doubtlessly already turned a corner, changed a jacket and a shirt and a hat, returned to the cafe, and is doubtlessly speaking right now to a stunned stranger." She tugged at my sleeve. "We, on the other hand, have to be going!" She pointed down the row between buildings. "There is a safe house some distance from here, but we can still reach it before the Amber forces arrive!"
I soaked up the details she offered as fast as I could. "Very well. One more question and we can depart." She sighed briefly, and her shoulders sagged - oh, but so adorably. "Will you tell me your name? I would very much like to know it."
Her eyebrow raised slightly, and the crook of a slight smile shimmered across her face and was gone. "Yes, I will - it will be my first words inside the safe house. And now we go." Now that I had a command of the situation, I matched her speed and focus as we started darting between buildings, moving slowly southwards. Indeed, after a moment, I had to slow my pace a little. My long and flexible Avernian limbs would have eventually outpaced her - if I had known where we were going.
But we both suddenly jerked to a silent halt as we turned down another alleyway - and saw a group of six soldiers in the colors of Amber down at the mouth of the alley. They had not seen us, and were talking amongst themselves. But two of them were facing down the alley, and would have seen any attempt to approach. My newfound companion pulled me behind a trashbin.
"Damn. If we have to avoid them, it will take us well out of our way - and the longer we're on the street, the more likely it is that we'll be seen." She began to search her pockets, but her face was not hopeful. I, on the other hand, started examining the rooflines. As soon as I found what I sought, I reached into my vest pocket.
"I am not without resources, milady. Please, allow me." It was a prototype of what would become the Alley Sling, but it was functional enough. I held the manual release switch and let the line play out a little, and then sharply swung it over the roof next to me, where it hitched into a sandstone crenellation. "After you, milady." Her eyes looked at the line, the hook - and then mine. Something flickered there - the first embers of a fire that would burn long and hot.
"It's Daller, please. My name is Daller." She smiled and winked even as she moved forward and started to climb. The cord has a rough surface and is reasonably thick, so the climb was not difficult for her. After allowing her a respectable lead, I followed - but my limbs were far more suited to this kind of exertion, and I partially supported her leg as she slipped onto the rooftop. I nimbly slipped over the roof edge and started twirling the nose of the sling, which was the manual line retract.
"That's all well and good, sir - but we are surrounded on three sides by taller buildings, and the main street puts us many yards away from the one building we might jump to. Now what?" She was a little exasperated, her sense of relief at leaving the alley frosted over with disappointment. But I did not falter. I beckoned with my left hand as I moved towards the street - at the corner of the buiilding furthest from the troops. "Ready for a little derring-to-do?" I smirked as I finished rewinding the line. She looked at me curiously, but said nothing.
I seated the plunger on a tile on the front of the building and aimed patiently. Fifteen feet was possible, but would be unforgiving of poor planning. After a tense moment or two, I twisted the midsection of the Sling to fire the line. A barely-audible 'pop' accompanied the line zipping out over the late afternoon crowd - and squarely struck the polished stone face of the merchant house across the street. I turned my face to Daller's in a playful challenge. "Are you ready to walk the straight and narrow, my dear?" Her eyes had been wide with wonder at my device, but thinned and focused in an expression of eager competition.
"I do believe you challenge me, sir. I believe both of us will do well - but if you have fear..." And with that, she immediately jumped up on the crenellated wall edge and planted a foot on the line. It held, and she briefly looked at me. My face was rather prideful, I must say. She took it as assurance and dashed across the line very quickly. She smiled from the other side, and teasingly beckoned me over. If I wasn't afraid, her face conveyed. I smiled back, and stepped onto the line. But I had only gone two steps when my knees both cracked - rather loudly. The guards at the end of the alleyway became somewhat agitated and looked around. I was trapped and frozen - hoping they would not think to look up. Daller, however, was more energetic and quick-thinking. She reached into her pocket and pulled something out. She looked down the alley, behind the soldiers, and her arm flashed in a throw. I heard the resounding clang of metal on metal, and all the guards turned and moved into the alleyway. I managed to unfreeze and continue my trip. When I got to the side with Daller, I flipped back and quickly detached the dart plunger. In a moment, the entire sling had retracted back into its crevices. I turned to Daller and smirked.
"I'm working on a model that can be used more than once without recharging. I think it might be somewhat useful to some of our friends...don't you?"
"Perhaps." She looked at the device - and at the sureness and confidence in my expression. "I'll confine myself to a 'perhaps' for now, Master Mikel." Her words had a strange emphasis, and her expression had softened a slight amount. Little did I know that she was becoming more impressed by my ingenuity and dexterity, and was becoming more enamored of my rather unusual build - quite distinct from those of Eregnor. I was rather naive, and only saw a look of interest.
"I suggest we don't dawdle here, my dear. Where are we bound?"
Her eyes moved quickly as she returned to the present moment. She darted to the far edge of the roof, then looked over it. She rolled over the edge before I could say more - but a close-sounding click confirmed that she'd found a ledge to stand on. I sighed with relief and moved to join her.
I rolled off the side of the building onto what I found to be a heart-jarringly narrow ledge - but I maintained my grip on the roof as well, and so did not come to grief in the alleyway below. Daller was already shinning down the gutter pipe, and I waited patiently for her to move down far enough to admit my safe entry. Besides - given her uniform, I did enjoy a wonderful view. (Only later would I realize this was not an accidental display, either.) I quickly slid down, only catching myself on the mounting fixtures that held the pipe to the wall to slow my descent.
"We're almost there, Master Mikel. Just-"
I upraised my hands. "Please, that is getting tiresomely disingenuous from someone who has had the gall to save my life." I smiled through the sly jibe. "My name is Mikel - it would please me if you did not use my title every time you address me."
Her eyebrows raised, and her expression became a mixture of interest and aggravation. "Hmph. Very well, Mikel - it will be two more blocks until we reach our destination."
We skirted through the alley, remaining as quiet as possible, until we reached the next street. A brief peek around the corners confirmed to Daller that it was safe - but there was still a question. "Our emergence from the alleyway will look odd to passersby - and odd is memorable, and memorable is bad." She looked me up and down a moment - and then tore my fine-woven (and expensive) off-white shirt open at the collar. I flinched back a little, but managed to avoid crying out. Instead, a tense whisper escaped me.
"Miss, what are you doing? If you need cloth, surely we can find something without sacrificing-"
But my thought left my brain as she did roughly the same thing to her own attire - revealing the high end of curves not normally seen on an Eregnor street. She then untucked her shirt, leaving the tails out - and then pulled my own shirt up before I could protest.
"You may be a fine head inside the laboratory, and have your own tricks up your sleeve, but you've not been on the run much, have you?" Her tone was both chiding and a little regretful. "It's a little early for us to be sauced up and romancing each other away, but it's as good an explanation as I can make for why we're emerging from a side alley."
I looked at her with surprise, then I settled into understanding. "Hmm. I see. While I haven't been drunk much, I have sampled the odd spirit and other comestibles of a psychotropic-"
She used her weight as a pivot as she held my shirt-front, and spun me into the street; and as I moved into view, she artfully kicked my feet together with a soft tap from her own. The result was immediate - and painful - as I tumbled onto my side and rolled forward. She immediately followed me out of the alley, with an artfully contrived stagger and a high-pitched laugh. "My dear Joran, you are far too forward for this time of day!" It was loud, slightly obnoxious - and exactly what a drunken lady staggering out of an alley might be expected to say. She moved forward, almost stumbling but never falling, and started to help me up. "That's not to say I minded at all - just that it's too early for it." I managed to feign a little uncoordinatedness as I rose - but I was much more a method actor than an improvisational performer, and so I limited myself to a slurred low cry. She giggled and pulled me towards the other side of the street. "That's the last time you order a bottle of Bayle all for yourself, I tell you!" We staggered and lunged and swerved towards one of the alleys on the far side. "Now then, where exactly do you live again?" And then we left the public's presence again, and were ensconced in the relative quiet of the next alley. Her eyes were a little fierce as she pulled me towards her. "I'd have slapped you before we started - get a little color in your cheeks. I'd slap you now, for that awful performance. But in both cases, it would be heard. And so, you escape punishment." I stammered the start of an objection, but her raised finger to her lips stopped me. "Almost there, and then we can talk." I sighed, and followed her again.
We moved quickly down the last alley, cutting left a little as we moved to shift two or three buildings down. I could hear wisps of the soft puff of the sea as it rolled against the docks - we were close to the port district, and the smell of salt water was starting to become noticeable. But it was a soothing smell and a soothing sound in this moment of confusion - it centered me again, and I kept up to Daller as she moved down the side of a building she apparently knew well. She paused at a door set partially into the wall - a firm oak door with steel bands, a little too sturdy-looking for an alleyway door - and turned to me again.
"The lock's a fake - I've watched cutpurses try to pick it for twenty minutes." She giggled as she reached over the sill of the door and I heard two separate scraping sounds, and a click. She turned the handle and we entered in haste. "This is a safe house, one prepared for such times. I believe we will have to wait here for dark before we can move further away from the trouble."
I sighed - the day had been holding such promise for my work. I knew so little of anything that was to come, good and bad.
I looked around what would be our quarters for the next few hours. It was a dusty and seldom-used common room of some kind, with an assortment of tables and chairs. A long-dead fireplace was on the wall to my left, and the walls to my right and front had boarded-up windows and doors. I took in the drab surroundings with a mild air of disappointment.
"I know it's not much," Daller said as she flipped over two chairs, "but it is safe." I drew up to the seat she offered and, after waiting for her to sit, joined her.
"It serves its function adequately. I just wish it weren't necessary at all." I sighed, somewhat wistfully.
"I hear. It is a dark time for Eregnor, and for freedom of all the Golden Circle. You are a noble Guildsman, Mikel, for doing what you do for this cause." Her eyes kept on mine and held them. "But we should not speak of our business so much - it is bad for one of us to know too much of another." She paused. "So, Master Mikel," she said with a hint of mischievous sarcasm, "is it the workshops in the day, and the drafting board at night? Or do you have that rarest of qualities in the Guild - the ability to relax?" Her tone and her eyes said that she already had something of the answer. If she didn't, there were some Guildsmen who took offense at that kind of thing. Nevertheless, I played her game.
"I have been known to toss back the odd ale now and again. It gets the creative juices flowing, I've come to find." I smiled easily back at her. "And you? You move with the grace and speed of a seasoned athlete - is running around town all that consumes your hours?"
Her eyes looked askance at me as she considered her reply for a moment. "I think not. There is dancing to be had and fine spirits to share - and many a gentleman has parted with their coin to spin a while on the floor with me in their arms."
I comedically winced. "No wonder I disappoint you. All the arts I have mastered are of the mind - the hammer and tongs, the paintbrush, the pipe and the lute, the pen. I must be the awful lummox you chastised on the street, truly."
She laughed a little, then her eyes focused a little and her voice dropped softer. "It is a safe house, but we must care not to grow too animated in our conversation. I'm sure Benedict has many allies, with many eyes, in this city. But you say you are a musician, too?"
I nodded. "Indeed. I have played for many years, learning different styles and quite a repertoire of songs. I do not play professionally, of course - the Guild frowns on such idle pursuits, as you may know."
Her smile dropped a hair. "It is a shame that we meet in so quiet a moment. For I have a sense that you play very well. I believe that you might know a song or two that are very well to dance along with." Her eyes fluttered a hair, and she folded her hands together to keep them occupied.
"Another time, yes. It would be a pleasure to share them with you - as I have had no audiences to speak of. I think you might be surprised at how difficult it is for the socially prominent to make friends - as opposed to the surfeit of sycophants who merely wish to use your rung to climb their ladder to fame. If it were not for my meetings with Tillwind, I might not leave my laboratory in a fortnight." I quickly met her not-yet-begun response with a hand. "The fact that I have a drink on occasion does not imply that I need go to a tavern for it. I have a well-selected wine collection in my house that meets my rarefied needs."
She looked at me askance for a moment. "So - are there so few people who know you? So few you can call friend?"
If only you knew exactly how little people know me. "The work of a Guildsman is long and demanding. Few are willing to settle for the time that remains when sleep and work are deducted from the day. It is a price of the field - a sacrifice for the body of knowledge." I must have sagged a little, as she leaned forward and put a hand on my knee.
"Now then, Mikel - speak not of such. I have seen many who have committed their all to some cause - and yet still their hearts have the time to find a release, and perhaps a bond or two to sustain them." She scooted forward slightly in her seat. "In fact, sir - I would..."
But her voice trailed off as she turned her face to the street behind the boarded windows. She moved quietly to the wall and peered through a gap. I could see from her tension that the news would not be good.
"It is unhappy coincidence. There is a unit of Amber's men patrolling the docks, and they are searching the warehouses for stores of weapons and supplies." Her face turned back, and there was more than a note of fear in it. "They will be here in a matter of minutes - and the mere fact that entrance is so difficult will excite their curiosity. We must soon away - but now I know not where! I must consider a moment."
My mind, however, had already been at work. I knew where we were, and what the situation was. I knew that there might be a chance that the house would be uncovered - Benedict is very thorough in his work. However, there would be one place he would not think to look for rebels...
I stood up quietly but quickly. "I will safeguard us now. I have a place to take us that none will search." Her eyes looked with fearful curiosity. "No - I will not say yet. If we are taken en route, it is best that you do not know. But we will need some degree of anonymity. Are there cloaks in the house? Nothing too fancy or recognizable - even two bedcovers would suffice, if none else is available."
Her questions were many, I could tell - but she also knew when to put them aside. "I think there are some upstairs - it will take a minute to retrieve them." She dashed upstairs, and I moved towards the door we had entered. It would be only ten minutes or so on the street, and if procedure had not changed, it would be a simple thing that would not arouse suspicion. It would not go well for anyone if things were not as I remembered them...
Daller returned, wearing a dark grey cloak and carrying another one. "It will be a little strange to see such cloaked figures on the dockside - I hope your trip does not take us far."
I smiled grimly as I took my cloak and swung it around my shoulders. "Not far. But I warn you now - you will not easily believe your eyes as your mind finds my route and our destination. Once we are safe, I will tell you all you wish to and need to know about it. But for now, do not act in any way except that we are taking an old and familiar journey, tired and in need of rest." I smiled.
It was time to see if my heart perceived better than my head.
"Trust me, Daller, and we will come to no harm." I took her hand, and she took mine gently, and even as the first sound of soldiers was audible from the front wall of the room - we left again from the back alley.
It wasn't far. We were already dockside.
I had seen more than one of Benedict's raids on the cities of Eregnor. When possible, he carried with him what amounted to a diplomatic bag that he used to carry both sensitive prisoners and important bystanders that needed special handling. On a seaport town like this, it would be a diplomatic courier vessel. The dockmaster would be under strict orders not to let the vessel leave - but he was also instructed to studiously ignore the comings and goings thereto - none of his business. There would be two guards, and I had a way to handle them. One I was reluctant to produce, but my bag of tricks had but one tool left.
We moved quickly past the commercial docks, and towards the government end. Daller's gentle following became a little more strained as she realized we were moving towards the military docks. "Trust me, please. For I have as much to risk as you - more, you will see." I briefly turned my gaze to her, my eyes imploring. Her eyes melted, and she resumed pace. It lasted for as long as it took to approach the dock explicitly assigned to the crafts Benedict had brought his troops in. I felt the beginnings of a jerk back, but the guards would already have seen us. I had no option left.
I tripped her, quietly. She staggered and fell knees-first on the docks, briefly crying out in pain. I moved down and shouted. "Now, now, milady. We're almost to bed. Don't be so eager to fall to your knees!" I spoke with the robust and arrogant tone of the worse of the Army Guards I had seen in my time. I gripped her hand softly, squeezed with polite firmness. "Laugh drunkenly. You must be a whore now." My mind flinched at my brutality of words, but this was the moment of truth.
Her eyes met mine for an instant, and she laughed a high-pitched squeal, nervous and giggly. I helped her up and we moved towards the guard station. I withdrew from my pocket a medallion - one my father had given me. It was something I carried always, but bore with shame - not only was it the thread that bound me to Benedict and his odious mistress, but it also had the mark of cowardice as well. For why would I bear it if not to 'excuse' myself should my role in Eregnor's defiance be uncovered?
Firm and direct now, assured. "I require one of the passenger berths for the evening. I'll take the soundproofed one. Royal business." I let the Seal of the Royal Family of Amber fall from my sleeve on its chain and dangle briefly in front of their eyes. The reflex of a trained soldier kicked in.
"Yessir." He withdrew a key from his pocket. "Cabin four. Not to be disturbed." It was a code-phrase to confirm that the prisoner was going to be tortured for information.
"Not to be disturbed." I let the medallion fall back into my cloak, snatched the key from his grip, and led Daller behind me within the ship. We went down into the hallway under the main deck, to the second room on the right. The key fit, and we quickly entered, locking the door behind us.
The room had the faint yet unmistakable scent of blood, sweat and fear. The walls were thick and padded - the room was designed to hold within every last scream and strained plea for mercy. There was a chair in the center of the room, wooden with thick leather straps. A pair of far more comfortable chairs faced it, and I deposited Daller into the closer. In order to reassure her of the situation, I placed myself into the chair reserved for the victim. I exhaled for almost five seconds, and then gathered myself.
"Benedict will never search this room, because there is nobody in the city who will require its services - at least, I hope. We can stay here for the night, and the search will fan out into the surrounding countryside. I may leave the next morning, but I'm afraid that you will have to swim to shore from the body disposal chute in the floor. Undignified, but better than remaining here." I take another breath. Luck was with me - now to find if Daller had followed.
"Ask me questions that you must have answered, and no more."
Her face had grown hard and cold - she correctly mistrusted me after my display of my allegiance. However, the fact that I had chosen the seat reserved for the one not loyal to Amber's cause was sufficient to warrant at least reasonable doubt, it seemed.
"Why are you in the Resistance? What do you hope to gain?" Her voice was sharp and her breath drawn.
I leaned back. "I have had an opportunity to see, from far closer than you will ever be, the crazed naked ambition that grips the Court of Amber, and the cold despair that haunts it. Her Majesty has, to my eyes, crossed the line from forceful monarch to power-crazed conqueror." I didn't often voice this belief as one of Amber's royalty - it jarred me a little to do so in this light. "She must be pushed back from these ventures of conquest and domination, or they will continue without end - until all that can be surveyed is little more than the backyard of the Castle she sits in. The organization to which I belong now - the one in which you and I both serve - is indeed quite capable and formidable. However, the might of Amber's army is terrible; it is wielded without caution, hesitation, compassion or scruple. In such times, it falls to those with ability to serve where they are most needed - in the cause of justice. I am in the Resistance because it is right to be here. I hope to gain freedom for many who do not have it now, and many more for whom freedom is at dire peril." I spoke firm and without a second's reconsideration. Upon Daller's trust now swung all I had worked for, and it would not be lost for my lack of directness and euphemism. Her eyes raised as I spoke, and her expression softened - slightly. She considered my response, and made another question.
"What is your relationship to the Crown? Why do you carry that seal, and what does it signify to those guards?"
I nodded. Her question carefully dodges an important one, and I respect her wishes for the moment. And while I had asked for one question only, I was bound to deliver all she wanted to know, by our secret enterprise. "I am a member of the Royal Family. The Queen is my aunt by virtue of her marriage to King Corwin. That seal was given to me by my father, and it identifies me as on the business of the Royal Family. The guards know that such business is not to be discussed, even to other family members." I snort, somewhat derisively. "Such is the trust of the Family today, that guards know that we do not wish our business reported to brother or nephew. Unless Lord Benedict or the Queen herself questions those guards specifically about tonight's traffic, our movements will remain anonymous."
She breathed a slow sigh, and her eyes were focused and thoughtful. "I would have to surmise that, if such a seal were stolen from a rightful possessor, Queen Dara and her forces would stop at nothing to get it back. Therefore, I am forced to believe that you are a legitimate possessor of the Seal, and that it confirms your account." She widened her eyes a little, and they became more openly admiring. "One of the Royal Family serves with us? I would not thought it so. I know that Prince Martin serves the Crown, but with little interest towards the subjugation of the Eregnor people." Her expression turned a little malevolent, briefly. "Nothing of the kind can be said for Brennus - he revels in the slaughter and the humiliation of our spirit." Her eyes turned back to me. "I have heard some stories of the Royal Family, and the name of Mikel is not among those I know. I would like to know your true name, if you would tell me." Her voice took on a strange tone, one I did not recognize immediately. But I pressed onward.
"My name is Andreas." I breathed outward long - I had not uttered the name in many long years outside my father's chambers. "I have not been an active participant in the Court life of Amber, so that will not be of much help in connecting me to the stories you have heard." I shifted in the chair - not entirely designed for comfortable seating, true - and nodded. "And, since that name alone will identify me if you are captured, I will also answer the question you have not asked yet. I am the son of Lord Bleys - and knew King Corwin for a few years before he was crowned." I sigh slowly and pensively - I do not like my mind to dwell here, but it must for a moment. "It may also be that I serve with you because I am convinced beyond doubt that King Corwin, a man I respected and called friend - proud to call 'uncle' - was slain in fell secrecy by the new monarch of my land. He was a man of hale fiber and hearty being - no mere illness could have claimed him." My words have a sharp and bitter ring to them. For a good and kind man he was, too - it would have been a good land if he had been alive to rule it.
Daller's eyes clung to mine, penetrating and...inviting. She had softened considerably since entering this terrible room, and was displaying a tremendous respect for me and my words. Or so I thought - but it was far more...
"I have one last question, Mikel." My eyebrows raised. "I will not fall to the habit of naming your true name - it is dangerous beyond measure, and I will never think it again. But it was enough that you said it to me. But now, Master Mikel, I do have one last question." She leaned forward. "Do you have a musical instrument in that satchel of yours?" Her eyes were alight, and her lips had a soft smile to them.
Mine widened in sheer astonishment - this was not how I expected to conclude this interview. "Um...perhaps." I rustled in my bag. "Or I might improvise one, at least." But fate was with me this one time - I had a small flute, similar to the kind used by the woodsmen of Eregnor to signal their hawks and communicate over distances. "I do indeed have a flute with me. I am pleased to answer in the affirmative." I was still reeling a little, but I was enjoying the surprise as well.
"Then play something for me, Master Mikel. This room is soundproofed, so the guards say. They will not pry here either, so it is ours for the night. I would learn more of your musical skills - and I would dance for you as well, if you would like." Her face was open and had undisguised hope and an appeal beyond my power to resist. For I finally recognized what had fallen between Daller and myself.
It was the tightly-woven, ever-dangerous, ever-addictive lines of love.
I played a light lilting tune - one from my days in Avernus, a song of hope and light and fair and beauty. And she danced for me, in that chamber of terror now held in check. Her limbs were subtle and lithe, her moves graceful and sleek. I still have to this day yet to see her equal.
Though perhaps my eyes are clouded now.
I played and she danced, she played and I danced, and we talked and talked and laughed and cried. We mourned our friends who had died in the Resistance, and planned a future together - fighting Queen Dara and restoring liberty to Eregnor. What fools we were - but this is common to those in love, I am told.
The evening ended as I anticipated. We were never disturbed. The morning came, and Daller left me by way of the chute, swimming to the merchant docks far away. She posed as a drunken trollop finding her sailor man and made her way safely home. I simply left the ship by the rear gangplank, waved away the lone guard, and took a circuitous route home. It was the first of many times we would rendezvous - for althought I saw Tillwind again, Daller became my contact - and my lover.
I will leave the tale here for now, my father. For the remainder is deliriously happy and possibly too painful now for me to recall in detail. The end - which I will not speak of now - is certainly something I will need time to approach once more, and on paper.
I am alone now, locked in this prison of smooth and cold metal. But at times I am glad - for at times, I can forget the reality of the outside world entirely. Living here, in my tower of the mind, life can be safer.
If only the tower weren't haunted.
Good night, my father. May we meet once more under the stars of forgetfulness and forgiveness.
-- Your Son, Laughing Boy