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simply stopped what he was doing. He was pruning some trees back in the orchard-he likes to do that
himself-and I was helping him. He was up on a ladder, snipping away, and suddenly he just stopped,
lowered the clippers, and did not move for several minutes. I thought that he was just resting, and I kept
on with my raking. Then I heard him talking-not just muttering-but talking as though he were carrying on
a conversation. At first, I thought he was talking to me, and I asked him what he had said. He ignored
me, though. Now that I know about the Trumps, I realize that he must have been talking to one of them
just then. Probably Julian. Anyway, he climbed down from the ladder quite quickly after that, told me he
had to go away for a day or so, and started back toward the manor. He stopped before he had gone
very far, though, and returned. That was when he told me that if Julian and Gerard were to visit here that
I was to be introduced as his ward, the orphaned daughter of a faithful servant. He rode away a short
while later, leading two spare horses. He was wearing his blade.
"He returned in the middle of the night, bringing both of them with him. Gerard was barely conscious. His
left leg was broken, and the entire left side of his body was badly bruised. Julian was quite battered also,
but-he had no broken bones. They remained with us for the better part of a month, and they healed
quickly. Then they borrowed two horses and departed. I have not seen them since."
"What did they say as to how they had been injured?"
"Only that they had been in an accident They would not discuss it with me."
"Where? Where did it happen?"
"On the black road. I overheard them talking about it several times."
"Where is this black road?"
"I do not know."
"What did they say about it?"
"They cursed it a lot. That was all."
Looking down, I saw that there was some wine left in the bottle. I stooped and poured two final drinks,
passed her one.
"To the reunion," I said, and smiled.
". . . The reunion," she agreed, and we drank.
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She began cleaning the area and I assisted her, my earlier sense of urgency upon me once again.
"How long should I wait before I try to reach you?" she asked.
"Three months. Give me three months."
"Where will you be then?"
"In Amber, I hope."
"How long will you be staying here?"
"Not very. In fact, I have to take a little trip right now. I should be back tomorrow, though. I will
probably only be staying for a few days after that."
"I wish you would stay longer."
"I wish that I could. I would like to, now that I have met you."
She reddened and turned what seemed all of her attention to repacking the basket. I gathered up the
fencing gear.
"Are you going back to the manor now?" she said.
"To the stables. I'll be leaving immediately."
She picked up the basket.
"We will go together then. My horse is this way." I nodded and followed her toward a footpath to our
right.
"I suppose," she said, "that it would be best for me not to mention any of this to anybody. Grandpa in
particular?"
"That would be prudent."
The splash and gurgle of the stream, as it flowed to the river, on its way to the sea, faded, faded, was
gone, and only the creak of the land-locked wheel that cut it as it went, remained for a time in the air.
Chapter 6
Steady movement is more important than speed, much of the time. So long as there is a regular
progression of stimuli to get your mental hooks into, there is room for lateral movement. Once this begins,
its rate is a matter of discretion.
So I moved slowly, but steadily, using my discretion. No sense in tiring Star unnecessarily. Rapid shifts
are hard enough on people. Animals, who are not so good at lying to themselves, have a rougher time of
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it, sometimes going completely berserk.
I crossed the stream at a small wooden bridge and moved parallel to it for a time. My intention was to
skirt the town itself, but to follow the general direction of the watercourse until I reached the vicinity of
the coast. It was mid-afternoon. My way was shaded, cool. Grayswandir hung at my side.
I bore west, coming at length to the hills that rose there. I refrained from beginning the shift until after I
had reached a point that looked down upon the city that represented the largest concentration of
population in this realm that was like my Avalon.
The city bore the same name, and several thousand people lived there, worked there. Several of the
silver towers were missing, and the stream cut the city at a somewhat different angle farther south, having
widened or been widened eightfold by then. There was some smoke from the smithies and the public
houses, stirred lightly by breezes from the south; people, mounted, afoot, driving wagons, driving
coaches, moved through the narrow streets, entered and departed shops, hostels, residences; flocks of
birds wheeled, descended, rose about the places where horses were tethered; a few bright pennons and
banners stirred listlessly; the water sparkled and there was a haze in the air. I was too far away to hear
the sounds of voices, and of clanking, hammering, sawing, rattling, and creaking as anything other than a
generalized hum. While I could distinguish no individual odors, had I still been blind I would have known
by sniffing the air that a city was near.
Seeing it from up there, a certain nostalgia came over me, a wistful rag-tail of a dream accompanied by a
faint longing for the place that was this place's namesake to me in a vanished shadowland of long ago,
where life had been just as simple and I happier than I was at that moment.
But one does not live as long as I have lived without achieving that quality of consciousness which strips
naive feelings as they occur and is generally loathe to participate in the creation of sentimentality.
Those days were passed, that thing done with, and it was Amber now that held me completely. I turned
and continued southward, confirmed in my desire to succeed. Amber, I do not forget . . .
The sun became a dazzling, bright blister above my head and the winds began to scream about me. The
sky grew more and more yellow and glaring as I rode, until it was as if a desert stretched from horizon to
horizon overhead. The hills grew rockier as I descended toward the lowlands, exhibiting wind-sculpted
forms of grotesque shape and somber coloration. A dust storm struck me as I emerged from the foothills,
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