Meeting Roland
Krysta sat back and regarded her audience. Slowly she sipped her
water, and gathered her thoughts. A slight smile crossed her face, and the
listener remarked to himself that it was the first honest smile he had seen
from her. Normally Krysta was a sober faced young woman. He halted that
thought and reconsidered. Young was not accurate by anyone's standards, but
still, it seemed to fit her. The long years in shadow had taken their toll
in lines etched upon her face, but her eyes still looked on the world with
the wonder of youth.
A soft cough recalled the listener. "You ask what I know of Roland, and
how long I have known him. The latter is easier to answer than the first
most days." She paused again, and directed a keen glance towards the
listener. Her eyes taking in the man in front of her. He knew who had
trained her, and that she was not one to trifle with. Yet it seemed Roland
had, and with some impunity. From what he knew of Roland, that did not
surprise him. For Krysta's part, whatever it was she sought in the man
seated across the table from her, she seemed to be contented with what she saw.
"As you seem somewhat aware, I left Amber at an early age, and have
wandered in Shadow since then. What you may not know is that my leaving was
not entirely voluntary." Again a smile, perhaps of affection, lightly
caressed her lips. "Benedict sent me out to find myself. It took a while,
but eventually I understood. He is one of the people that I look forward to
seeing when I make my presence known. Almost in a daze I traveled the first
few years. Sometimes it was heady, to find whatever I needed around the
next bend, or in a small hollow. But my own company began to bore me, so I
sought companionship. I found it in a young man who wanted to leave his
home so badly he managed to follow me. I made him my lackey, full of the
certainty of my position as a Lord of Creation. He washed my clothes,
hunted and cooked, and generally took care of camp. I figured that he would
want to return home in a few days. Almost 5 years passed before I realized
that he wasn't going home. Our relationship changed at that point, and I
began training him in the same manner that I had been."
Another sip of water, another pause for thoughts to be ordered, and the
tale began anew. "I can't say how much time had passed for me or for Amber
at that point. I never bothered to learn how to tell, or if you even can.
It wasn't important to me at the time. I was looking for something.
Benedict had said to find myself in shadow, and I was searching for my
father, not understanding at first what he meant. So my companion, no
longer a youth, but a man named Sloane, and I traveled together." Krysta's
eyes turned inward, and her voice lowered slightly, as if this memory still
pained her slightly. The man listened intently as she spoke. "It had been
a long winter, and we were both weary when we came upon a small town.
Mayhap 1,000 people dwelled there, including those that farmed close by.
There were several inns, and needing some time apart, we each took a
separate one. Sloane and I were friends, first and foremost. Sometimes our
companionship went further, other times not. This was one of the times it
was not. When two people travel through so many strange lands, when they
near some close to home, it is natural that they want to find other's to
spend time with. We had been in town for a week when the first of the
storms hit. A blizzard so late in the season was not unheard of, but still
was unusual. Several children had been lost in the blizzard, as well as the
school teacher they had been with. Search parties were organized, and we
found ourselves in the same party. It was awkward at first. Not having
seen Sloane in a week, it was as if we were new-met. But in the way of true
friends, it only took moments before we were lying to each other extensively
as to our activities."
She stopped to look at the man, catching his eye, as if to make sure that
she had his undivided attention. "There was not a trace of the children, or
the teacher." She seemed to find this important, and repeated it quietly.
"Nothing anywhere to indicate where they may have gone. The teacher was
taking them on a study trip. They had lunch pails, cloaks, slates, pencils.
Nothing was found. Now what are the odds, that during a storm, trying to
stay together, nothing would have been dropped. Not one little girl would
have let her lunch pail drop as being to heavy. Not one boy would gladly
have set down his slate to wrap a cloak around himself. Or even what
teacher would not have had them seek shelter under a tree or dead fall, and
huddle together, leaving some sign. Perhaps not that unusual, to not fins
these things in the remnants of a blizzard that lasted eight hours. But that
was not the oddest thing about this storm. For by morning, the entire thing
had melted away. Four feet of snow, gone as the sun rose. Quickly, not a
slow melting, but a rapid disappearance. Still we searched, blanketing the
area, but nothing was found."
"Sloane and I had our first disagreement then. He insisted that something
was odd. I, in turn, confident of the way things work, told him that he
didn't have the ability to know what was normal in this shadow. We were
only visitors here, and our ways were not theirs." Krysta shook her head,
and a look of regret crossed her face. "One should always listen to those
we take as long term companions. To this day, I can still hear Sloane's
voice as he would argue with me. It mattered not to him whether I was a
true Princess of Amber, or the bastard daughter of a chambermaid. I was his
friend, teacher, sometimes more, but always friends. He knew me in a way
that I thought no one would. Roland proved that wrong." For the first time
bitterness colored Krysta's voice.
"Sloane and I were happy to part ways again when the search ended. We were
still in need of time away from each other before we could be together
again, and I wasn't going to leave him stranded in the shadow. So we
returned to our individual persuits. Occasionally I would see him at what
passed for practice grounds for the town guard." The obvious disdain in her
voice brought a smile to the listener. Somethings you don't lose
apparently. Always a military family, this one was a pupil of one who stood
out amongst the world as supreme, and her evaluation of those who didn't
revere the training necessary was clear. "About ten days after the first,
another storm ripped through the village. This time it was a family going
home from devotions that disappeared. Again a search and again no trace.
No horses, no wagons, not even a hair ribbon form the little girl. It was
as if the storm had swallowed them whole. And once more, by morning the
snow was gone." Wryly she grinned, "I am not a fool, despite what Sloane
may have thought. The repeat stated quite plainly that something was up.
It shook the entire village. The gates were closed, and nobody traveled.
Tempers started to shorten, and Sloane and myself were not the only people
who experienced a parting of ways. We tried to avoid each other, but the
town lacked much to do for entertainment. In desperation, I began training
a group of youngsters. After a few days, Sloane began helping, and while
still fragile, we began to talk again. First about the training, then after
many attempts, we once again broached the storms. As if summoned by us, the
third one began. We took shelter in the guard house that was at the
training grounds. Because of the fear, no one had been out, and no ne was
lost. It was almost three weeks, before we found out that an entire farm
had disappeared." Krysta looked up at some sound form the listener. "Yes,
I mean the entire farm. Family, animals, house, and outbuildings. It was as
if nothing had ever been there. but by then we were becoming used to it.
Two more storms had been through in the meantime, and each time people went
missing. Magic didn't seem to even enter their minds. A few legends and
superstitions seemed to be the extant of their magical knowledge. At first
I thought shadow storms, but as they kept coming, I eliminated that
possibility. Even though they may take, shadow storms will eventually drop
something, and nothing unusual was found. I would have left, but Sloane had
become close to some of the villagers, and persuaded me to stay until the
answer was found. How I wish that I had insisted. You see, the next storm
was the worst. We had begun to predict them, and for the day before and
beyond, everyone had come to town, and found lodging. It was not as crowded
as it may have bene, enough people had gone missing, and we were all willing
to put up with cramped quarters for a few days. It did no good." Krysta
paused and pain showed clearly in her clear gray eyes. "Almost as if it
knew that we were trying to thwart it, that storm was the worst. It raged
for two days, and at times, I thought that the sturdy stone walls were going
to yield to the fury. But then it seemed satisfied, and left us. but it had
taken a weighty toll this time. The storm took the inn where Sloane was
staying. We had no idea until it stopped. The entire inn was gone, as were
the stables and mounts. Perhaps 200 people disappeared that night. I don't
know what I did when I saw it. The next thing I remember was waking in a
bed that was unfamiliar. My hands were bandaged, and the woman who tended
me said that it was better that I forget my grief. I was up the next day.
She was amazed at the healing that had taken place, and considering what
they looked like, I can only shudder at the damage they had originally
sustained. I fervently hope that the graves that were dug that spring
contained none that I had put there. There were several small buildings
that were damaged, and I was not alone in the healer's quarters. Looking
back, I can only assume that there was some remnant of emotion at the sight
of the inn that had invaded us, and we released it on the town. I was
furious, and with all the arrogance of my training, and power, I vowed that
I would kill the one who had done this, should Sloane be harmed in any way."
She looked up again. "We set ought soon after, and this time I used what I
could. Through ways that are not public I was able to track Sloane. He had
enough of me about him, and I was familiar enough with him to follow. I can
only guess at the fear of the villagers that traveled with me, for in
moments we left their sleepy little shadow. It was only small changes, but
when you are intimately familiar with every tree in the surrounding area,
you notice when they change color, and season." She shared a smile with the
man. It was something that only those who could travel shadows would be
amused with.
"It was only a short time, and a few shadows away before we started to find
things. A broken slate, a bent shovel, things that had nothing human about
them. But they were all recognizable as coming from the village. Then came
the hair ribbons ... sashes ... belts ... shoes. All of them bloodstained.
We wept as we gathered the remnants of a small child's dress. Blood, and
even a few small gobbets of flesh stained the dainty little pattern.
Someone had hand-woven the pattern, for over and over the name Amara had
been woven into the material. The lace had been hand tied. I vaguely
remember Amara. She had disappeared in the storm before the last one. A
delicate child, she had entered the training grounds the day of the third
storm, and had sheltered with us. Her parents were near hysterical when she
went home the next day. An older couple she was the child of their twilight
years, and they had been certain she was gone. It had only been a taste of
the pain they would bear for the few years they had left. For Amara of the
golden hair, and handmade dress had been torn limb form limb, and all that
remained were the scraps of her clothing. We put them carefully in a small
sack. They would go back to the village, and one set of parents would at
least know that they had no reason to hope. Several of the hair ribbons
were recognized, but Amara's was the only substantial find. Miles later we
found the animals. They had been cruelly tormented before being
slaughtered. Scavengers blackened the area, and one can only wonder what
kept them away until the corpses had putrefied. The bodies had to have been
a week old at least. The cruelty done to the animals seemed so pointless.
Several of the men were so sickened by grief and shock that we were forced
to camp. We marched far enough to avoid the smell, but we could still see
the air, dark with birds as they swooped to dine. Two days later we entered
what had looked like a forest from afar." A quick glance to catch her
listener's answer. "Some cultures practice impaling for those captured in
battle. Can you imagine how many people were there, that we mistook it for
a forest from a slight hill a few miles away? Even worse was when we were
close enough to see what it was. They were not all dead. I think it broke
the spirit of most of the men. Some of them went mad, and others became as
cold as I have seen any in the heat of battle. A few grimly walked around
ending the suffering. Their eyes were dead as they slew the members of
their village, and who knew how many others. They were beyond help." The
man was surprised at the note of pleading in the otherwise dead tone. Even
now, Krysta seemed to be asking someone to absolve her, but she stoically
continued. "Animals had learned that there was nothing to fear from these
humans, and came to dine freely. Gritting my teeth, I examined some curious
markings on the poles. There seemed to be some sort of runic writing on
them. We searched the 'forest' for the villagers. We found almost all of
them. Sloane was not among them."
She ran a hand through her short hair. "Even the children, down to the
smallest, shared that fate. We passed through, and found a small keep.
There was no one at the walls, and no one answered our calls. Only a few of
the men were in control of themselves. The rest ran deeper into the keep.
I did not see them again. There were perhaps 12 of us that stayed together.
Slowly we followed the first group past the gate and into the courtyard.
There was no one about. The doors to the keep were open, and we followed it
into the main hall. On a dais at the end sat a man. The chair he sat on
rose several feet above his head. It seemed to be made of some sort of
ivory or bone. I didn' t check that closely at first. To his left was a
large stand that held a crucible. It smoked slightly, and seemed to be the
source of a slightly bitter aroma. The other side had a weapon rack with
several high quality swords. The man himself, as you may have assumed was
indeed the person that I have taken to calling Roland. Why Roland? That is
for another time. It has no bearing here." She didn't seem upset at the
interruption, instead taking the time to sip at her water.
"We stood there, eyeing each other for some time. I have no idea how long
it was, but forever passed in those moments. It was as if he was talking to
my soul, and I didn't understand the language they were using, but knew that
they were talking." Krysta met the eyes of the man in front of her. "I
have often wondered what it was they talked about that afternoon. For
Roland had been a part of my life for much longer than I was without him. I
feel tied to him in some fashion, and I wonder how much of that he did at
that time." As if realizing that she had shared more than she should,
Krysta quickly returned to her tale.
"'So, you have finally come looking for me, Bastard Childe of Amber. I
wondered how long it would take. I was beginning to fear that you would
offer me no challenge.' I am not even sure if he spoke aloud. He gestured,
and Sloane was drug in. 'I believe this is the one you are looking for.' I
have always hated that arrogant tone of his, and I hated it at first
hearing. Sloane had been severely abused, and I am not sure that he would
have made it with the highest medical care. But there was still a light of
adventure in his eyes, and he tried to smile at me." Krysta's eyes were
bright, but her voice steady as she continued. "I asked him what he wanted,
and he said that he would trade Sloane for myself. Without hesitation, I
agreed. He frowned at me. 'He is a not a real person. You trade
foolishly. What matters it if he dies.' Then Roland snapped his fingers,
and a second servant entered the room, carrying a small knife. Roland spoke
to him. 'If you kill him, I will give you your life' The servant walked to
where Sloane was and slit his throat. Something was holding me immobile, as
I tried to get to him. 'I give you your life as promised.' Roland ran the
servant through with a sword. 'Do with it what you will.' The look of
betrayal on that servant's face still haunts me. I tried to reach Roland,
intending on killing him bare-handed if needed. Something was holding me
firm, and Roland turned his gaze to me. 'You are not quite ready yet.
Despite appearances, I take no delight in killing children, and for all your
year's that is what you are still. A child of the universe, totally unaware
of what you may become.' He gestured around the keep. 'This is not my
place. I only taught the Master her what to do. I never told him whether he
should or not. That was his decision.' Roland's smile is all the more
frightening for being so charming. 'The young man's life was forfeit before
you got here. Rest easy, you could do nothing to help him. But I would
advise leaving soon. The Master of this keep is about to find out what the
price is for what he has done.' Roland stood and walked towards me. 'Now
you must leave. I want you to learn more before we meet for the final time.
I think that I will need to check on your progress, so we will meet again.
Go out and find out who you are.' His words were an eerie echo of my
mentor's and Roland's final words echoed in my ears as the keep seemed to
fade from around me. 'Until next time Bastard Childe of Amber.' When I
came to my senses, I found myself and the remnants of those who had stayed
with me just inside a forest. The sight of a forest composed of trees,
soothed us all, and we rested for some time, taking in the natural world
around us. Slowly I became aware of a sense of presence, and a sense of
horror grew in me. The forest occupied the same place that recently had
held the multitudes of those impaled. 'Peace, my innocent young adversary.
This is my work. They were lost to this world, now they know ease from
pain, and can take comfort in each other.' The voice spoke only to me, and
I doubt that the others knew where we were, or what had happened to the
previous forest. I walked away from the group, and sought out the keep.
The remains were easy to find, and as I rested there, I became aware of a
feeling of joy in the air around me. One tree in particular seemed to draw
me, and I approached it cautiously, fearing a trap, but fearing more what I
already knew. What I spoke with Sloane about is our business. But if you
wish to understand the comfort, go into a forest, and listen for a while.
Eventually a tree will show itself to you, wrap your arms around it, and
relax into it. You will feel connected to the universe in a way unlike any
other. There is something terribly solid about a tree. They endure, and so
does Sloane."
"I took them back to the village. We held a mass ceremony, and I stayed
for only a few hours. Returning to my rooms, I found Sloane's things there,
and took a few things that were of sentimental value. A ring, and a cloak
that I wore for a long time. I imagine that I could find that tree should I
wish. but I have no need to. My only guess is that Roland returned them to
me. I don't know why, and I still don't know what Roland wants from me. He
held to his word, and I have seen him many a time since then. But that was
the first time that I met Roland."