"It's not that you are not good with the long sword, Roland," continued Bleys as the made their way slowly from the Great Pit and the madness that surrounds it, "I believe that a heavier weapon would be more suitable for someone of your mass and frame. Something like an ax or a great broad sword."
Roland shrugged indifferently as they rode. Mother was doing the shifting so he and Bleys were free to simply keep up. Unfortunately, it seemed that Bleys likes the sound of his own voice. Roland had not said a single word in over an hour and yet the conversation continued. Roland spent most of his time observing his mother and the terrain. They had Trumped to the edge of the Abyss using one of Bleys cards but Mother insisted on walking back. Since the going was odd and more than a little difficult, they took turns. Even though he was only partially listening to his uncle, the idea of an ax intrigued him.
Suddenly, although they were still moving, they stopped Moving.
"What is it?" asked Roland, interrupting Bleys monologue.
"We are being followed through shadow."
Bleys stood in his stirrups and looked behind him,
"The old boy is making good time, I'd say. He will be upon us shortly."
Roland squinted at the mounted figure crossing the blue-gray hills towards them. He was concerned. Following people through shadow was difficult and indicated a fair amount of skill and power.
"Should we try to loose him?"
"Of course not," replied his mother tartly, "As much as I would like to annoy him, he would be put out with us when he caught up with us and then he might not tell us what he is doing way out here.
"Whatever it is, it is probably unsettling. Damn, I hope he is not in one of his moods. He is impossible to deal with then. Sorry, Roland, it looks as if you get to meet another uncle. Best not talk too much. He'll have your soul if you do."
Roland managed to look neither surprised nor confused, which was exactly how he was feeling.
At first glance, the man who road up to them reminded Roland of a thinner version of Corwin. The obvious difference being a shock of red hair like his mothers. In addition, there was something about his eyes. As if he was haunted. It was unsettling and Roland decided to study the clasp of his but rather than look at his uncle further.
"Greetings fair family," he said with obvious sarcasm, "What brings you out so far from the bosom of Amber?"
"I was about to ask you the same, Brand," replied Roland's mother.
"Aha, dear sister, but I asked first. Therefore, your answer should proceed my own. We should always keep in mind the order of which these things are done. It keeps the chaos at bay. Besides, we should always set a good example for the young ones," he finished looking pointedly at Roland.
Roland decided that he didn't like Brand.
"We are taking him on a tour of the realms," answered his mother sharply.
"The two of you? Is he really so difficult that it takes two of you to assist him through shadow. Dear sister, I thought better of you. I am disappointed."
"This time you are wrong, Brand," interrupted Bleys, "I just recently joined them," his eyes narrowed, "But you would know that since I left Amber AFTER you."
Brand smiled and Roland got the impression that he just won some point in some obscure game.
"You are so right," replied Brand with a shallow grin, "Now what about the boy? Does he have a name? Or is he some kind of pet? He looks feral."
In addition to not liking him, Roland decided that he would very much like to do Brand some bodily damage.
"He obviously is not," started Roland's mother, "But we have yet to discuss your appearance out here."
"Not that it is any of your business," he said haughtily, mostly at Roland, "But Corwin and Random... Ugh... I just could not stand to be around them any more. So I headed this way, I was actually going to head back when I sensed your presence. I was hoping for some stimulating conversation but I was wrong."
Roland actually saw Bleys glower at Brand and force his hand away from his sword. Roland decided that the bodily damage would consist of an evisceration... with a spoon.
Brand waved his hand in dismissal at Bleys.
"Do not get your dander up at me. I was referring to the boy. We have been conversing all around him now and he has not even the courage to speak for himself. Not even to greet me. His elder," he looked pointedly at Roland, "And I do not believe he thinks fondly of me."
"Hello," Roland grunted.
"My, that sounded as if it hurt. The ability to speak guides our thoughts and mind. Therefore, how we speak and what we say is important..."
"As important as what we don't say," Roland interrupted in a challenging tone.
Brand smiled.
"Correct, Roland. In addition to words governing the form of our thoughts there is also action and, of course, inaction. Our perceptions as well but merely in the form as data interpretation," he frowned slightly, "I was correct with my initial assumption. This conversation bores me. Since I am heading directly home and you, obviously, are not, I will take my leave."
Without another word he wheeled his horse around and left. The moment his back was turned Roland brought forth his bow and, with-in a heartbeat, had it strung with an arrow knocked and aimed it at Brand's back. He would have hit him to but Bleys had literally flown from his saddle, knocking Roland from his horse and pinning him to the ground.
"Are you daft!" yelled Bleys at his struggling nephew, "What is wrong with you!?!"
Roland struggled and managed to lift Bleys but could not dislodge him. Roland saw Brand disappear in the distance then turned his angry gaze towards Bleys. He growled,
"We never said my name..."