Between Lies and Silence

All right, that's not entirely true. I know what they don't tell me as well. Sometimes, that's more enlightening. Around here, what people don't say is often more important than what they do.

It's a fine, summer's evening out. From my window, I can see the towers of Castle Amber looming over everything else in town. Below, the still bustling streets move with people going to their dinner or their pleasures. Horses, carriages, people -- A continually moving parade of life. I enjoy my vantage, as it brings perspective. The fantasy and the reality. The Castle and the streets.

I only know what they tell me.

Merik found me one night, near a woman. A dead woman. He was off duty, heading towards his favorite tavern and cut through one of the alleys -- and there we were. She had been stabbed, and her purse was missing. I was sitting there, wild-eyed, with a gash on my jaw about a mile long. I was maybe five years old. This is what Merik tells me. I don't remember any of it. I don't remember her. They say she was my mother.

"They" is Merik and Desra. Merik is -- was -- a castle guard, under Prince Gerard. Desra is the owner of the White Rose Inn -- an upscale tavern, really, as there have never been any rooms to rent, for as long as I can remember. The Rose is a short jaunt from the Castle environs so we get a good many customers who like their whiskey neat, and their pleasures very comfortable. We hear a lot in the Rose, but sometimes, like I said, its what we don't hear that is more important.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Life for me really started after Merik found me. He became pretty much all-in-all to me. Not an easy man to grow up with. He never has tolerated children well, which is one of the reasons I always wonder why he bothered to take me in. Merik isn't harsh, but he had little patience for foolishness or lack of focus, and I learned quickly to think before I spoke or resign myself to a cuff to the head. He is generous hearted, though, in his own way, and he taught me to share in his one, great love -- The sword.

The Sword -- Any sword. Bladed weapons of all shapes and sizes, those are Merik's love. That's what he lives for; the purity of the challenge, the joy which comes when fine blade and intelligent fighter together overcome the odds. The exhilaration which comes when theory is finally put to the test.

Merik rents the large space which is the third floor of the Rose. Most of the floor space is taken up by a practice area and racks of weapons. Sleeping areas are down on the second floor, and I've always shared with one of Desra's girls. In his off hours, Merik would train young men, sometimes rich ones, in the art of lunge and parry -- Merik's that good. He didn't need the money then, he just liked to share his knowledge. And that's how I came to learn.

One evening, rather like this one now, I was sitting by the window watching with interest as the fellows in the practice area went through their forms. One of the students, a younger boy, was getting cocky. He told his sparring partner that the other boy was such a klutz that even "the Princess over there" could beat him -- meaning me. Merik looked over and grinned at me. Before I could breathe thrice I was standing in front of the boy with the mouth, practice blade in hand, and was being told to "have at him." So I did.

There was no grace or artistry to my attack. I simply avoided being hit myself until I saw the opportunity to whack him on the sword hand. His "blade" clattered to the ground, and that was that. The boy cursed me, Merik, his original partner, and then sulked on the far side of the room for the rest of the night. Merik just eyed me and commented, "That was lousy form."

That was how it started -- being set up to humiliate someone who needed taking down a peg. I got lucky. Period. The boy grew up to be an accomplished swordsman, and a fairly nice fellow, and I was dubbed "Princess" by everyone who came to Merik's. I suppose it's better than being called something else.

It's been many years since that summer evening. Merik was released from service by Prince Gerard several years ago -- Right before the Princes of Amber started dicing for the throne. Things were tense for everyone then. The Patternfall War was brewing, and anyone who lived in Amber knew that something bad was on the horizon.

Merik came in one night and announced blandly that he had been removed from service, "because someone 'high up' had complained about him." He tossed a small, leather case on the table, along with a large bag of coins -- his severance pay. I looked up, surprised by the news, only to find him regarding me with an odd look on his face -- a mixture of careful consideration, tenderness and a certain amount of speculation. The look was gone in a flash, and I often wondered if I had imagined it. One should stick with hunches, I learned. They're usually right.

That was the first time I came to understand that what wasn't said was much more important that what was. With a flash of certainty, I realized that no one had complained about Merik. The reason for his dismissal had to do with me. He never talked about it again, and I never brought the subject up. The coin supplemented the fees Merik charged his students, and we lived as comfortably as ever. The leather case disappeared and I didn't see it again for several years.

After that, I was put through nothing less than intensive training. Merik drilled me in weaponry, various forms of sword play, and the arts of defense and avoidance. Knowing how to staying out of a fight was as important as knowing how to stay alive during one, he'd say. I couldn't dispute that, so I took my bruises with good grace and tried to learn all that was heaped on me. I grew in strength, agility, and in the ability to strategize. The sword was no longer a piece of metal, it was an extension of myself. The "Princess" was able to stand toe to toe with any who wanted to spar, including, in time, Merik himself.

Meanwhile, our landlady, Desra, took it into her head to make me into a "Lady", and, for some unknown reason, Merik thought that was a fine idea. From Desra I learned the art of smiling insincerely, giving the perfectly required respect owned by curtsy or nod, dressing outlandishly, and arranging my hair so that it was more than a tumble down my back. While I've never felt comfortable in elaborate gowns, Desra did give me an appreciation for what effects appearance can achieve. She's not a Lady herself, but without a doubt, she knows the ropes.

It was yet another summer evening, when Price Eric took the crown of Amber, and proclaimed himself King. I don't know where Merik got the news of it, but he heard of Prince Corwin's imprisonment, and that signaled the storm more fully than anything else had done. It also signaled the last day of my own ignorance.

The rain had been falling steadily all day. Sullen and grey, it wasn't much of day to be out. Business had been slow in the White Rose, so I spent the afternoon in the kitchen with the other girls, seeing to our mending. They've always been a lively lot, and I enjoyed the chatter which sprinkled the dullness of needle and thread with a bit of light-hearted fun.

Desra returned from an outing, her cloak dripping and her face set hard as stone. The chatter died quickly, as she glanced at me and said, "Come, Dalena. You have business to attend to upstairs." As she dragged me along with her, I heard the quiet speculation start among the girls.

Merik didn't seem surprised to see me in tow with an upset Desra. He said mildly, "It came sooner than we expected, Des, but it had to happen sometime." He looked at me with an expression of resignation mixed with excitement and said, "Pack your bags, Dal-girl, you're going to be travelling." I opened my mouth to protest, and he waved me off, saying, "I'll explain what I can when we're on our way."

I didn't have much to pack, a few tunics and breeches, a couple of shirts and my longsword. On top of the bag was tossed the small leather case Merik had been given years before. I glanced over at him, he shrugged. "Those are for you. You're going to need them." He handed me my cloak, while Desra added a pouch of food to my sack. She hugged me tightly, and whispered, "I always wished you were mine, child. Be good to yourself, and be wary." I returned the hug, knowing that this was goodbye for a time, and then let Merik guide me out the door.

Our destination was not far. Through the rain, under a heavy sky, we made our way to Castle Amber. I followed Merik with a mounting sense of wonder and dread through a series of back doors, hidden stairways and obscured doorways. We moved quietly, surreptitiously, until we came to the castle's equivalent of the basement. No challenges were issued, no warning cries were heard. We made our way unhindered until before us stood a set of heavy double doors. Merik raised the latch on one -- it was unlocked.

"Dal-girl, we don't have much time here, and I can't help you with what you need to do inside this room." He put his hands on my shoulders and looked at me earnestly. "I don't know who your parents are, Dalen. I can guess, but I don't know." He sighed and continued, "I know, this is a lot to take in ... and if it were me, my head would be spinning, but think about it later."

Think about it later. I nodded. It sounded like a good idea. Heavens, what an understatement.

"There's someone in the Court who has been watching out for you. I don't know who they are either, I just know that they've got your interests at heart, and they want you to be safe." He handed me my scrip and said, "Inside is what They called the Pattern. I don't really know how it works, but you have to walk it ... travel its path, if you will. Once you do that, then you'll have your power -- and not much beyond the Family itself will be able to harm you." He opened the door and shoved me through. "I'll watch for a time, but I can't help you and once you start, you can't stop. Understand me, Dal-girl, you have to finish." I nodded in understanding. It was pretty clear from the look on Merik's face what would happen if I faltered.

"Once you're done, hide out for a while. I don't care where, just go someplace safe. Contact me when you can."

I glanced back at the man who had been my mentor, my father, my friend for all the years of my life and could only find the ability to say, "I will." He nodded and closed the door -- Closing the door to the past, and leaving me with only the present.

It would be anticlimactic to recount the walking of the Pattern. It was hard. It was brutal. It was freedom. It was life. As I traversed its twists and turns, I gained back my early memories -- The men who killed the woman I was with; the woman who was my nurse, not my mother; the other travelers who had interrupted their job of butchery but were too afraid to take care of a corpse and a child; the eternity of aloneness that was the night ... until Merik came along.

When I finally gained the center, I pictured a quiet village, not far from a large city -- a friendly city -- nothing more specific, and asked the Pattern to send me there. And so I went, starting my life for a second time.

I spent uncounted years away from Amber. I missed the Patternfall War. I was not around when Random was crowned King. I've only recently come back to Amber -- To find clues to my heritage, to figure out what to do with my life, to spend what days I can with my true family, Merik and Desra.

I still don't know who my biological parents are. Some days it matters, some days it doesn't. I guess I'd rather know than not. Surprises usually are nasty, especially when they concern the Family. Merik thinks it's safe enough now for me to be in Amber. From my travels through Shadow, I've learned that safety is always relative and it's better to live than to be safe.

So, I know what they tell me. I know what they don't. Somewhere in there, between the words and silences lay the truth. Someone in the Family knows exactly who I am. And some day, so will I.