Roland shrugged off the white jacket of his suit as he left the seedy casino as he walked down the alley he stripped off his bow tie, kicked of the loafers he was wearing, and took off his dress shirt. He left the pants on for modesty as he dumped the rest of the clothes into a nearby bin.
His mother was waiting for him at the end of the alley holding a cloak, tunic, and some boots. He rubbed his chin and ran his hand over his baldhead. After all, she did tell him to shave.
"Well," she asked without preamble while handing him a tunic.
"They're up to something," he responded, accepting the tunic, "And ties are uncomfortable."
"Care to elaborate," she asked.
"Well, they're constricting and limit your head movement. If you tug to hard it gets difficult to breathe..."
"I meant about your uncles," she said icily while pointedly not looking at Roland's baldhead.
"I served them drinks for over an hour while they played various card games. They're good. They won more than they lost, anyway. Even with all the innuendo, death threats, and sarcasm, I think they were just there for fun and any schemes were for entertainment purposes."
"What are your impressions of them?"
"Well, Caine is a very sly manipulator. He had everyone in the room split into factions about who was going to bet what on whom and who was going to bed whom. All while playing cards with a half dozen other people," he stopped for a moment while he laced his boots, "I won't play cards with him and I trust him about as far as I can throw him... Check that. I trust him about as far as YOU can throw him."
"You trust him too much then," she said with a smile, "What about Random?"
He returned her smile. Roland was getting more comfortable with their relationship... kinda.
"He's a mischievous SOB, that's for sure. He was keeping up with Caine no problem but he was defiantly there for fun. He was breaking hearts and taking names. I don't trust him any more than Caine, but I think I could actually like him. At least a little."
"Did they notice you?"
"Please, Mother, I can blend in at midday, in broad daylight, naked, with a jester hat on my head, while singing 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.' You actually prepared me for this one. 'A waiter is just a waiter,' is what you said."
"Thou art pert," she angrily rebuked. Roland knew she was pissed because she slipped into a very archaic and formal form of Thari. He also knew that apologizing would make it worse. Her eyes narrowed and she suddenly turned away from him.
"Follow me," was all she said and she began shifting shadow. Which was odd because for the last year she had been making him do all the work. Even though she was leading him, he found it difficult to keep up.
When they suddenly stopped he was confused. He could smell the sea air with the undertone of humanity. The sites were all familiar. He had some childlike memories of this place and a few more with Julian but it still did not fall into place because they arrived too fast. It wasn't until he looked up at the evening sky...
"The City of Amber! That's not... How...?" he looked questioningly at his mother but the words stuck in his throat when he looked at her. She was still mad, which was bad enough by itself, but she also appeared fiercely determined.
"I have taught you the use of your blood and the workings of power," she said icily, "You are quick, smart, observant, and strong in more than one sense. In spite of these attributes, or maybe, because of them, there are some things you do not learn!"
She grabbed him by the edge of his cloak and half dragged him over to a tavern that had the name 'Bloody Johns' etched above the door. When they got to the front of the building she removed a flask from her pouch and took a slug from it. Roland could smell the whisky and his mother's behavior disturbed him more than a little. Without even glancing at him she splashed the remainder of the flask onto his tunic. Before he could protest, she ran her hand across the wall, picking up a lot of dirt, and reached up and grabbed his face.
"Now you are a drunken docks man," she mumbled than continued in a clearer voice, "Since you have difficulty learning some aspects of our existence, a demonstration and lesson are in order. The demonstration was our arrival. The lesson follows shortly."
She pointed in the window towards the back of the bar. Roland was growing concerned, and if he was to be honest with himself, more than a little frightened about the sudden turn of events. The feeling of doom increased as he followed his mother's finger to the back of the room where a mountain of a man was sitting and drinking and laughing.
"Gerard," he rasped through his suddenly dry throat.
"Yes," she said evenly, "Now go in there and kill him."
It wasn't much of a fight. Not that Roland remembered much of it. He remembered that no one lifted a finger to help the, apparently, drunken sod who was stupid enough to attack Gerard. Then again, no one helped Gerard either, not that he needed it. Roland remembered the blow that broke his jaw. He remembered actually landing several blows and managing to avoid more than one from his massive uncle. He remembered the feeling of weightlessness as he flew through the air and then through the wall. He remembered his mother looking down at him with actual concern on her face. Roland will remember that image forever.
To be fair, Roland held off his giant uncle for longer than anyone else that decade. He found out later that when Gerard rushed into the street to make sure he was not dead, Roland was already whisked away. No one knew who he was or where he went. Which is how his mother wanted it.
Consciousness was rare for Roland over the next several weeks. When he was awake he was far from lucid and was in considerable pain. His mother was always there taking care of him. More than once did he awaken to find his head in her lap while she stroked his hair and sang soft songs.
As he healed and was awake more frequently, they talked. Actually, she talked, as his jaw was broken in several places. She told him that they were in a 'fast shadow' so very little time would pass in Amber. She also expanded his knowledge of the Universe, explaining how it worked, the Pattern, their relationship with it, etc... She also exposed him to the workings of True Magic especially healing spells, many of which he experienced first hand. She avoided the topic of Gerard.
After several more months he could talk and walk again, although the latter was hesitant, she asked him a very important question.
"What did you learn?"
"Well," he started hesitantly, "Never pick a fight with Gerard and that he is not very accurate when he throws things. He missed putting me through the window by two whole feet..."
"DAMMIT, ROLAND!" she cursed. Either he was weaker than he thought or she was stronger than he imagined because she tossed the table aside and pushed him across the room into his bed. The slap that she followed it up with hurt as well.
"This is serious! If you do not learn what I am trying to teach you then you will die! You cannot afford to miss anything or you will be swallowed up! I can not loose you..."
Each word was punctuated with a slap to his chest. She appeared frustrated more than angry and Roland believed it was out of concern for him that she flew into this rage because her eyes were wet. With a sudden burst of speed Roland grabbed her wrists and pulled her on top of him and stared into her eyes. He was emitting a low growl. When he finally spoke it was with a quiet, even voice.
"You should be proud of me, mother. I learned two things on that day. The first, and what I believe you were trying to get me to understand, was that no matter how powerful I become there will always be someone who is even more powerful."
He stared at her a moment before continuing.
"The second is that my mother cares for me SO much that she is willing to risk everything, including my life, to make sure I an able to survive as a Lord of Amber."
When he released her she fell onto his chest and lay there for a moment, breathing heavily.
"You are becoming a wise man," she whispered softly.