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 Post by Tanda on 04/30/2004 at 12:09:28
His name and position in the palace were unknown to me. After recuperating in the rooms my father had assigned to me when we'd arrived in Amber three days previous, I was restless and had wanted to stretch out stiff muscles. Disregarding my fathers order to wait for him to show me around, I had ventured out, and walked the castle corridors until I had came upon the training room. Overwhelmed by my surroundings, it was a relief to tire myself out with mindless physical exertion. Though my shoulder was too badly injured for me to work out heavily, I was able to do some stretches and runs. Nearly an hour had passed when I heard someone enter. He picked up a sword, saluted and challenged me to a duel, whatever that was supposed to be. He had a warm and friendly smile; I was curious and wanted a varied workout, so agreed. But at one point I'd gotten too close to him. Let him get a hold of my arm and he had twisted my injured shoulder, which under normal circumstances would not have affected me, but the flare of pain and sudden weakness in my arm had given him an opening that he took full advantage of, slapping his right hand across my face. I think he meant to hit my cheek, but I bent back and got it across the nose instead. "You are faster than that," he said and beckoned to the strangely shaped dagger laying several paces away to my left, I'd dropped it when he had hurt me. "Come on, we try that move again." I stared at it. Where the hilt should have been there were two cross pieces connecting two parallel bars, and the blade was wide where it joined the handle, tapering to a lethal point. I'd never seen anything like it - almost all the equipment, on the benches lining the walls of the room, were foreign to me. "Have you ever used one before?" he asked. I shook my head. "Then I would ask you, why choose a Katar," his hand swept across the array of weapons, "when you have all of these available." I looked at him and shrugged. "It was the closest thing to hand and small enough to use in close range." He didn't laugh, just stood there waiting for me to resume our duel. Stepping over to the katar, I bent to pick it up, but paused before touching it to wipe my nose on my sleeve, it had stopped bleeding, but I didn't think he'd noticed. He moved towards me. Ignoring my weapon, I dived; hit the floor on my bad shoulder. The pain was intense. It made me feel sick and light headed, but I continued the roll into his legs. He went to jump over me. I caught his ankle and pulled. He landed heavily on his other leg and it collapsed under him, leaving him on his knees. Rising to my feet, swaying a little, I turned sideways, so I could keep my eyes upon him, and see who had entered the training room. Another man stood leaning against the door frame, wearing black and silver and a quirky smile; his arms crossed over his chest. My opponent raised his hand and said, "I yield." When I looked at him in confusion, he seemed surprised. After appraising me for a moment, he bowed his head, turned to the stranger and did the same. I remained ready for any sudden moves on his part, trying to figure out what sort of deception, if any, he were using on me. "My lady," he said, facing me once more. "You are fast and obviously skilled at survival. With training you will not be matched by many. Before I leave to attend my duties, I would have your name." The silence stretched as he waited patiently for me to answer, I hesitated, still unsure of my self in the awe-inspiring castle my father had brought me into. That, and I were far more interested in who he was. "What's yours," I asked after a moment. He seemed taken aback. Rapidly coming to the conclusion that I was not following whatever procedures were expected of me in such situations, what ever this situation was, I flushed. He laughed, and it was infectious, bringing a tentative curve to the corners of my mouth. He dipped his head to me once more and moved towards the door; my eyes followed him. Sweat from our fight had made his white shirt stick to his back, and on his left shoulder I saw a design of a flower I did not recognise. I wondered what it represented. The man leaning against the door frame pushed away from it - his face seemed so familiar - and stepped into the room to let my opponent pass. Then it hit me; he looked like my father, only not nearly as broad. I couldn't move. My breath came in short gasps; I had to focus on it, slow it down. This man wasn't my father. He was one of my uncles. Father had reeled off their names and descriptions over a breakfast he'd insisted I have, and said he would show me pictures when I was better, but this man I recognised anyway. I knew nothing else about him. I would not make rash assumptions of his character! I forced my legs to move, crossed the room and stood before him, he was taller than me by several inches, and I looked up into green eyes. Those eyes narrowed slightly, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking; I could not read his expression. Did he know me? He seemed to. His head tilted to the side and he smiled as he spoke. "My brother has been hiding you away," he held out his left hand and I took it. Turning mine over, he bent and brushed his lips over the back, releasing my hand as he straightened. I let my arm drop to my side, unsure of what to do next. He saved me from indecision by stepping to the side, and gesturing me out the door ahead of him. "Walk with me, Tanda, it's a fine day outside and so much you will like to see." I swallowed before replying, "Thank you uncle Corwin... I'd like that." Post by Tanda on 08/09/2004 at 15:11:43
He led me into a cavernous kitchen that could easily contain my entire home, and as I followed my uncle through it, I stared up at the high walls and the huge pots and pans – far more than I could ever envisage using in a lifetime – hanging from thick rods of steel. All the metal shimmered in the morning sunlight pouring through the open windows. Cooks and servants milled around, the sense of relaxed activity fascinated me and I let my eyes wander over everything from deft hands kneading slabs of dough, to boys lugging logs to the fire, simmering pots whose aroma made my mouth water, and a girl wiping down a board by one of the sinks. She smiled. I looked away quickly, unsure of how to respond. I saw my uncle watching me with a quirky grin on his face, but the table he stood next to drew my attention. It was so familiar that I almost missed the apple he tossed to me as cold visions of the rock giant loomed. I caught it clumsily in my good hand and roughly pushed aside the raw memory of my mother's death, wiping the apple on my shirt before taking a small bite. It was sweet and crunchy, much nicer than the hard, dry fruit found in my homeland. Corwin tilted his head to the side, considering me, then gestured to a door in the far wall. We walked through it and out into a yard. Warm air, fragranced with a strong smell or manure, washed over me. People walked past with sacks, baskets filled with cloths, tools and objects I did not recognise. So many people. All with a purpose. My heart rate increased and my breathing sounded ragged to my ears. Never had I seen so many people in one place. They blurred past in a cacophony of voices. I stumbled into my uncle's side and started, but his voice smoothed over the clatter. "The castle can be overwhelming on a first visit," he said gently, "But there is somewhere I think you might find more appealing, if you are up for a walk that is," his eyes drifted to my shoulder, and I dropped my hand from it, realising I had been holding the still painful joint. I imagine he thought I should be in the infirmary, and he was probably right, but I felt oppressed in the castle. I tried to dispel the unreasonable anxiety I felt and swallowed before replying. "I will be fine, uncle. Please, I would like to see this place you speak of." Corwin nodded and held out his arm. At my incomprehension, he pointed to my hand, then patted his arm. Slowly, I placed my hand where he indicated, but felt suddenly uncomfortable at our close proximity and was about to withdraw, but then he smiled, placed his other hand over mine and drew me into the surging stream of humanity. After several paces, I was clutching his arm, my eyes darting back and forth over the people streaming around us, the press of their bodies entirely overwhelming after the hermetic lifestyle of my homeland. Perhaps I would have copped better with this first experience of castle life had it been under different circumstances, but the death of my mother, my father's appearance after so many years neglect – too late to save her – and my injury all took its toll, smothering my curiosity, leaving me weakened and frightened of this strange new world. Finally, we were across the yard and walking along a gravel path. Strangely shaped trees lined our way, their branches cut so they looked like animals. The heady smell of flowers made me slightly dizzy. There were fewer people around and I started to relax my death like grip on Corwin's arm. "It's not much further," he said after a while. "My brother Benedict tends the gardens we are about to enter. They must be savoured and appreciated in ones own way, and I think perhaps you will find some comfort here." Several yards ahead our path passed under a bamboo archway and through it, I could just make out a shadowy pool of water. As we approached, the emerging vista within the garden drew me and I squeezed Corwin's arm to hurry him forward. I heard him chuckle softly and I looked up, meeting his gaze. My father never smiled as Corwin did then. I could not imagine walking with my father through gardens on a summer's morning and I know he is incapable of kindness. Perhaps he had chosen my homeland so there would be no leisure time, only hard grind I had to endure to keep us alive in the desolate mountains. I stared into eyes so like my fathers and wondered how two brothers could be so dissimilar. Then I looked away. Wariness crept into my confused mind as I recalled how others of the family considered my father a good man, fun to be with and reliable. If my judgement is off about my father, could it be my uncle has fooled me into thinking he is a kind man? No. I know the true face of Prince Gerard. As we passed beneath the bamboo arch, the path split, curving to the right and left around an intricately laid pebble beach. Slightly off centre in the water was a group of varying sized stones, which threw dark shadows across the glassy surface, their black fingers touching the far side of the oval pool. Irregular paths led from the shore, winding through low trees and shrubs that framed the scene. I tried to see what lay beyond, but could not make out much of the miniature landscapes enticingly hidden from view. The garden was still. I breathed deeply of unfamiliar incense that burned somewhere nearby, and a sense of tranquillity settled over me. For the first time since my arrival in Amber, a smile touched my lips. I stepped forward. Behind me, I heard Corwin turned to leave and I looked over my shoulder to see him disappear through the archway, the sound of his steps muffled, then gone entirely. I walked slowly out onto the beach and to the waters edge, letting the harmony of the place suffuse my troubled being. I sat down. Wrapped my arms about my knees, hugged my legs to my chest and did not fight the memories that eased forth. The shadows from the rocks caressed the still waters. I watched until they touched the tips of my boots. Tears fell freely down my cheeks and I wept into the deepening darkness. |
