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Taemyr's Diary
Home. Yet it all felt somehow.. flat, almost two dimensional. I lit the fire and sat back in my chair, staring into the flames and considering all that had happened. I had asked the maze to send me home, and it had. Beyond that, there was really very little that I knew with any certainty. I didn't believe that fellow was my half brother any more than I believed my dad was alive, and I hadn't gone with him 'just in case.' I went because I was curious what he was up to, but even now I had no clue. That bothered me. What was more, I knew my way around pretty good, and yet he had taken me, in the space of two days walking, to somewhere I had never even heard of before. That bothered me too. I was between jobs anyway, so I decided to go back and see what I could find out for myself. I set out early the next morning, retracing the way he had taken me. It went more quickly this time, without the delays from stopping to argue about it all. Looking back, I really have to hand it to him and his ability to answer me without ever actually telling me a thing. It was easy enough to tell when I had crossed the final border, nearing that strange maze to which he had taken me. The area had a vitality to everything that drew me, and a sense of energy which I could neither explain nor dismiss. It was this that made home seem so plain, like a watercolor picture on a cardboard backdrop. I stopped, taking in the sheer beauty of the place, marveling at it. Despite the circumstances, I was glad to be there. I had brought my bow for hunting dinner along the way, as well as my cloak which I had threaded through the carry-strap of my quiver. And of course I had my dagger. I felt good. All around me were immense trees, their branches spreading outward like ancient oaks, though botany has never been one of my strengths. The light filtered down through the canopy in greens and shadows, peaceful yet very much alive. I decided then that it might be prudent if I avoided the precise path that my "friend" had taken me along before, in case he was lying in wait for my return. I don't think of myself as paranoid, but events had been rather peculiar, to say the least.
Information is always nice, though it could have been received under better circumstances. Taking in their distance and position, I decided not to test their marksmanship. I've been shot by an arrow before, and it is an experience I'd rather not repeat. So I folded my arms, left over right so that, at the very least, my right hand was in grasping distance of the dagger on my hip. "I am Taemyr," I answered, making a quick guess where others might be hidden as well. "Is there trouble in these parts, or do you always welcome travelers with drawn bows?" It was a serious question - I was a stranger here, but, more importantly, I couldn't help wondering if these men belonged to my former escort. The closest woodsman nodded. "There is," he replied, "while Prince Julian faces charges of murder, sir. I have to check with the castle to see if they will identify you positively." Not what I wanted to hear. The only one in these parts who would know who I am, was the one person I was trying to avoid until I could learn more. Top it off with arrows aimed at me, and a murderer in charge of them. Jolly. I was about to reconsider their distance when the woodsman continued, gesturing past me. "If you will follow the men behind you to one of our guard posts, we'll be happy to provide you with refreshments while we trump the Officer of the Guards." From close behind me on either side came the unmistakeable and hair-prickling sound of sword against sheath. I turned, and it was a small and dubious comfort to see that they were resheathing their weapons rather than drawing them. It's been quite some time indeed since anyone has gotten that close to me without me sensing them long before. The small grins they wore on their faces bespoke their satisfaction with my ignorance. "Welcome to Amber, Mister Taemyr." I returned their smiles with a crooked one of my own, both irritated and impressed. I nodded then and turned to face them fully. "Very well," I replied, giving in to necessity, at least for the moment. I looked over my shoulder once more to see if the odds would remain against me. It seemed very strange indeed that the bowmen would travel to the castle without me, but this wasn't something I meant to question just yet. Had I been less distracted, I might have wondered, too, at the word "trump." Faced with the swordsmen, however, I dismissed it quickly as a local slang for marching.
I allowed a faint smile to escape as I accepted the knife, refraining from glancing to the dagger on my hip, though surely he was aware of it. With my eyes on the knife in my hand, I asked quietly, "And what happens when you are unable to identify someone?" As I finished the question, I looked up at the guard, my expression neutral. The forester merely shook his head, "We don't slit your gizzard, if that's what you're worried about." They all laughed then, and I laughed with them, albeit briefly. "No Sir," he continued, "we just take you into Amber under guard and we'll take you to the King's Master at Arms. He'll decide what to do with you. Of course," he added, "we'd normally just have Prince Julian decide what to do with you, but he's still confining himself to the castle grounds at the moment, at his own request yet!" My smile remained, though I dropped my eyes as I listened to the rest, thinking. The foremost question in my mind was why didn't they take me there right away? Was it some sort of ruse? And if not, the fact that they had to decide what to do with me simply because they didn't know me was of no comfort at all. Nor was I impressed by the Prince's actions - it seemed mere prudence on his part, though I still knew very little of what was going on. "No," I replied, "I was not concerned for my gizzard." I grinned and shook my head once more. My smile faded as I looked from one man to the next, choosing my words as carefully as I could in the short time allowed. My smile was now quite faint, yet nevertheless still present. At times, effect can be everything. "If you'll forgive a stranger's rude honesty," I said quietly to the man who had spoken, "I am more concerned about your Prince Julian. I've yet to see a prince found guilty of anything, and I don't fancy becoming a scapegoat." This was as fully honest as I had been yet, but I wanted to see their reaction; specifically, how loyal to this Julian were they? But forgive me they did, laughing as one, "Don't worry yourself, mister Taemyr. You'll not be turned into a scapegoat for what is happening in Amber. As for finding someone guilty, you obviously haven't been keeping up, have you?" The woodsman that handed me the knife leaned close, "While some say he's a weak king, others are certain that Random is about the best we've ever had. It is said that he will not tolerate any sort of madness from anyone, regardless of who they are. Rumour has it that if Julian is found guilty, he might be imprisoned, or worse!" The word "if" sounded more clearly within my mind than it was intended to, I was sure. Still, here was more information, some of which I hadn't anticipated. It made me pause my thoughts once more, and if I was going to make a break, I needed to put these men at ease. So I laughed with them once more and nodded, grinning. "I'm glad to hear it."
They agreed that it was and so I smiled again and walked over to it, sitting down and busied myself with cutting several bites. As I was cutting the meat I said, "As I mentioned before, I am a stranger in these parts, so I'm afraid I know nothing about the local news. Unless I miss my guess, however, your King Random is new to the throne, yes?" As I asked this, I glanced up from the plate. "It sounds," I continued, looking down to spear a piece of meat, without waiting for an answer, "as if he has yet to prove himself. What do you think he might do, worse than imprisonment?" I looked up once more as I asked the question, then took the bite of meat in my mouth and began chewing. Again, I don't like to think of myself as paranoid, but it is hard to predict your opponents' actions when you know nothing about them. By inviting the men to gossip, I hoped to not only to put them more at ease, but also to learn something of who I was up against. Just how desperate might this Prince of theirs become, and what kind of king did they have in charge? Was my supposed half-brother a part of it all, or had I simply stumbled into this by not keeping to the trail we had followed before? You see, I had not entirely decided to run yet. Being taken to the castle under guard rated pretty low on my list of fun things to do, but so did making myself an enemy of the kingdom. Running would ruin any chance I had of civilized interaction, but the closer I got to the castle, the poorer my chances of escape would become. So once again, it was a matter of needing more information, which I sincerely hoped these gentlemen would provide. The guards looked at each other before my host turned back to me, saying, "Worse than imprisonment? I should reckon maybe execution, or maybe even exile... Perhaps forced servitute to the plaintif for a few decades? The mind boggles at the very idea of a Prince of Amber being a hired lacky of some Chaos nobody, but there's the treaty to consider..." I took a glance at the guards, but they remained silent. As one, they all quickly began eating, filling their mouths, it seemed, to stop themselves from saying any more. So I nodded thoughtfully at the new bits of information, less helpful than I could have hoped for, but information nontheless. "My compliments to the chef," I said then, smiling, tearing off a piece of bread and daubing it in some meat juice. "This is very tasty." I leisurely ate a small bit of cheese. Then, as I tore another piece of bread and daubed it like the first, I asked casually, "You know, as pleasant as this is, I can't help being curious why your archers didn't take me with them when they went to see the Officer of the Guard." I popped the bread in my mouth and looked to my host, my expression mild. Go ahead, I thought with inner challenge. Explain to me why I am not being presented to the guy who is expected to identify me. And yet, half of me wanted him to do exactly that. I didn't want to have to fight them. Judging from how close they got, it seemed more than likely they were good enough that I might be forced to kill somebody to get away. I've not killed anyone yet, and I really didn't want to change that. In answer to my question, the foresters looked at me with identical confused looks on their faces, "Julian gave us orders before he entered Amber to do so. We follow his orders until they are changed by him, or by the King." One of the foresters then murmured, "...if ever..." I paused in my chewing, looking at them for half a moment before looking down at my plate to cut another piece of meat. Had I hit a nerve and they were stalling to think? If so, they'd be getting nervous and sitting was not the best vantage point. When my mouth was empty I said, "Well, of course orders are orders, but that's not quite what I meant."
Maintaining a casual pose, I leaned on the poker and gazed out the window. I wanted to see the way I might take and if I could spot anybody else outside. Seeing nothing, I remarked, "I guess we do things differently back home. It just seems somewhat odd that the archers marched off to see an officer, in the hopes of having me identified. Yet this officer is supposed to do this without benefit of seeing who it is that he is supposed to identify. I don't think I would want his job." The woodman that invited me to eat replied, "There are methods of identifying people other than a simple visual check. Some of them are even beyond me, but our check is simply name-wise. If you are identified as a friendly, then we'll escort you to the city." His tone then turned serious, "If, however, you are identified as a potential or known enemy of Amber..." He left the statement incomplete. This was again no help in deciding me. If he was threatening me, I would be ready, but I didn't want to hurt these men, nor did I want to make a wanted man of myself if I could help it. So I merely chuckled softly and resumed prodding the coals with the poker, rearranging them. The hot tip could be a weapon all by itself. "Yes, well, any stranger is a potential enemy, isn't he now?" I replied, bouncing his oblique threat right back at him. Then, to soften it, I looked over my shoulder and smiled at him. "But perhaps I can be viewed as a potential friend instead, eh?" "Heh... We'll just have to--" But he stopped in midspeech, his attention apparently taken by something that I couldn't see. My smile faded and I rose, turning, not liking his odd behavior. He seemed to nod to no one in particular, then looked back at me once more. His expression seemed thoughful and regarding, as if deciding something. I remained reluctant to open battle, so I merely stood there, ready. Or at least I thought I was. He lifted his hand and there, shimmering into existence in a rainbow pattern of light, was a person, holding the woodsman's hand. My shock was more than even I could conceal as I began to raise the poker, stepping back into a defensive stance. Prudence won out, however, and I lowered it just as quickly, waiting. Turning, he regarded me with quiet reserve, "Good afternoon, Taemyr. Welcome to Amber." Taking him in, I found some small comfort in the fact that the man at least looked human. I nodded in answer, then to prove my voice had not failed me, I added, "Thank you." He smiled then, and I suspect he was amused by my shock. Fair enough, though I didn't care for how common this was becoming. "You've not chosen to visit Amber at a particularly quiet time, Taemyr," he said. "Things are happening that confuse the issue, but we are looking at the potential of a shadow race that can travel between Shadows. If you have any information or advice, I suggest you go quickly to the castle, or maybe you'd just like to tell me, hmm?"
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s much of a relief as it was to be home again, it seemed dull, even drab in comparison. Don't get me wrong - I like my place, with the dark wood of the shelves set off by the various books that filled them, the dark gray stone of the fireplace, and the rich patterning of the chinese rug that almost fills the room. Propped in the corner was my bow that I had shaped and polished myself, and on my admittedly untidy desk sat the brass dragon stand with the spherical glowball, which my dear friend had said would bring me luck.
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