Breakfast (Winnow and Fergus)

Gerard sends word he'd like Winnow to come meet him one morning for breakfast. Just meet him at the grand gazebo in the west walled garden.

That location is a beautiful wood structure surrounded by a wide variety of different trees. One cannot see the wall from the center of this garden, the largest of the castle's four. Within the Gazebo one cannot even see the castle! Its roof tilts east, hiding the great structure. But one can see the mountains to the west easily enough.

A breakfast buffet is laid out to one side. Srambled eggs. Different breads with butter and other spreads available. A fresh roast, medium rare. Slices of some kind of fowl. Shredded and lightly fried potatoes. Carafes of water, breakfast wines, fruit juices, some stimulating drinks called "coffee" "tea" "chocolate" and "skass" with goblets. A few servants to the side, ready to make anything you'd like, along with piles of different fruits and cheeses.

Fergus, Gerard comes by your guest quarters in the morning, inviting you to a "good hearty" breakfast. The walk to the gazebo takes less than three minutes. You and Gerard will arrive a minute or two after Winnow.

Fegus follows the big man who called himself Gerard down the coridoor. Though he'd been at the Castle for a few days now, he still found it cold and overbearing. He passes one of the warm fireplaces and back into the cooler air. If only it had automated heating like back at the Nexus Fergus thought.

Although Gerard had told Fergus that he was part of the family that ran the Castle here he still did not think that it added up. Questions still reverberated into his thoughts.

If I am was part of this family then who are my parents and why had they not come to meet me? More still why had they abandoned me?

There were strange things going on here and although they had apparently "rescued" him there were still things that he wanted to be answered.

As he walked along he wondered if he would get these answers today at this mysterious breakfast meeting or whether it would leave him with more questions and less reasons to trust them.

Ahead was a large tent set up aside a wall and Gerard beckoned him to follow him inside.

Word comes to Winnow a bit late, as the page apparently had to hunt for him for some time, inquiring of staff until he found the big man seated lotus-style in a secluded bit of the east walled garden, facing the sunrise. The spot where he rests is within the walls but, by a trick of landscape, actually overlooks the wall with a view out to the ocean horizon. He thanks the page and dismisses him absently, keeping his eyes closed, feeling the newborn sun on his face.

So Hoa Gerah wishes to dine morning with me. Only a handlful of times have we done so, each time for something specific. Normally I would find him at the pells, or shifting wood-trunks.

Winnow finishes up his breathing exercises, moving his consciousness from his belly-mind to his heart-mind, then his head-mind. He leans forward, keeping his soles planted and rotates a half-circle as he rises to his bare feet. He wends his way north around the outside of the castle, passing from the east to the north then the west walled garden. The slanted gazebo roof is easily visible, and by habit his head swivels smoothly left and right.

He breathes in the scent of the food and his smile widens. To fuel the body is good. Winnow ignores the hot drinks and stimulants, taking a pitcher of water as a smaller man might hoist a pint of beer. He picks up a bowl of fruit and begins methodically demolishing it.

When the others arrive they will see him having moved a heavy stone bench to a position where he can rest his back against one of the gazebo columns while he eats. He wears a cloth of blue and silver around his waist in the manner of a skirt; otherwise he is bare except for his intricate tatoos and scars. He puts down the food and drink to clasp both arms with Gerard, crossed and wrist to wrist in the manner of his people.

"Hoa Gerard, I greet you." He releases the clasp to look at the other man, awaiting an introduction.

"Winnow," Gerard smiles and starts piling a plate full of food. He indicates the bearded man beside him. "This is Fergus." Then he looks at that man. "Fergus, here is Winnow. You're cousins, just as I'm your uncle. And he's something of a newcommer to Amber as well. Thought you two might have a lot to talk about. Oh, and please--eat as much as you like! The castle is fairly cold compared to where you came from. The stewards'll make up whatever you like."

Not waiting on cermemony Fergus turns to the table and pours himself a hot coffee. The big man who Gerard named Winnow is clearly strong and the tattooes give him a strangeness about him and the manner of his speech is odd. However there is something engaging about the young man that Fergus finds invites civility. His gold and purple eyes soften slightly from there previously intenseness.

"Well met Cousin. I'm afraid I am new here and I do not know your customs. I warn you now that prior to coming here I have not had a proper conversation in some 3 years and, well my manner may offend you. I have already offended several servants here I'm afraid, since I am quite capable of doing things for myself. Mister Gerard here, who says he is my uncle, rescued me a few days ago and brought me to this place."

Fergus scoops up a slice of seeded bread from the table and turns to face his cousin. He doesn't say any more and leaves a gaping silence waiting for the big man Winnow to respond.

Winnow smiles broadly and genuinely, turning to Fergus and extending his hands to clasp in the same manner as he did with Gerard. If that proves problematic he will leave his right hand out and drop his left, more in the common way of Amber, to clasp palms or wrists or forearms, whatever seems comfortable for Fergus. He cautiously tests the man's raw strength, looking for evidence of pain as he tightens his grip. He has learned not to make assumptions about those of the blood of Amber; size is only one indication of strength...but he would hate to cause unnecessary injury.

"I am difficult to offend, cousin, as is Hoa Gerard. Let there be peace between us." He drops his hands, reaching for a loaf of bread, tearing off a large piece. He gestures toward a seat, then moves his stone bench to easy conversational distance from whatever seat Fergus chooses.

Between bites, he speaks. "I first saw Amber one winter ago, but have traveled much since then, so still see it as a newcomer." Winnow's dark blue eyes are interested and mild as he asks, "Rescued?"

He glances briefly at Gerard.

Fergus had seen the shaking of hands on a number of Holo-Vids as a sign of greeting. Never having done so he cautiously proffers his right hand and shake hands of the giant. Then as the Winnow squeezes his hand he does so back.

This is obviously part of the ritual greeting. I will remember that in future when a hand is proffered thus.

He rubs his hand slightly as he lets go and sits back down.

"I will make no secret of the fact that ever since my earliest memory I was held captive in a house turned prison. I know not my parents nor who put me there but I do know their reasoning, or such reasoning as they would tell me."

Fergus pauses briefly before continuing, scowling as he does so. Gerard had already told him that they had followed the trail to him there so he undoubtedly already knew.

"You see they say that I am to be the doom of all reality."

Gerard sighs. "That's one of the problems with Shadows--by their very nature they distort the realities at the two poles, Amber and the Courts. Fergus here hails from a place called Nexus. Nice enough place in most ways. Caine I think stumbled across it a few decades back. Good food, good drinks, lots of sports to play or watch or bet on. Several different festivals a year that become various kinds of party. A technological level that allows everybody to move around easily but keeps the wars cold instead of hot--lots of espionage and trading secrets, that kind of thing. Anyway, we all started going there for vacations. Most of us, anyway. Then Dad disappeared and the Patternfall War. Several months ago, Benedict went by the place and heard rumors of Fergus here. Seems their myths include a version of Amber--the domain of the dead, always trying to return to the living, that sort of thing. Amberites are supposed to be like incubi and succubi, their halfbreed children inherently evil. Then there's this one really major prophecy, about The Twisted Man, who's supposed to be the ultimate harbinger of doom. Benedict did some checking, then planned a rescue."

Gerard was using too many references that Fergus really didn't understand.

What the hell was the Courts and the Patternfall War?

He decides to tackle the easiest one first.

"The Nexus was not in darkness." He said forthrightly. "Although it was in the shadow during the night cycle, during the day cycle there was often bright sunshine. The plated windows did not allow me to break them but I could at least see what was outside of it."

He must be happy about something to be so talkative. When he isn't, he becomes positively grim.

At Gerard's unusually long explanation, Winnow chuckles. "There are always those who predict doom. Fear is a useful tool to control the weak." It is clear he isn't talking about the physical.

Turning to Fergus, he goes on, "You are in the worlds of the gods now, Poa Fergus. There is much to learn, for both of us. With Hoa Gerard's permission, I could free him from minding you, and I could see Amber anew through your eyes as I explain what I know."

Swallowing the last of the loaf of bread, Winnow picks up a slab of roast beast and rolls it into a rough tube, wrapping it in a pancake. He turns again to Gerard before he takes a bite. "I am closer to his station and state, and I will keep him safe." He then savages his meat roll while waiting for Gerard's judgment.

"I was hoping you might make a good guide," said Gerard. He then turned to Fergus. "Meanwhile, please feel free to ask any questions you like. As far as we're concerned, you are family. One of us would seem to be your parent, although who might take some investigating yet."

"Which we have already begun," said a female voice behind them.

There, entering the gazebo stood a slender woman all in red, with brown hair falling in an elaborate wave around her pretty features. Her face was only pleasant in shape and form, but something about the way she'd used it for many years had elevated her face into a kind of beauty. Extremely pale blue eyes looked nowhere, the pupils unresponsive.

"Fergus, my apologies for greeting you so quickly upon your arrival," said Vialle, blind Queen Consort of Amber's King. "May I please join you?"

He was not sure he approved of KIngs and Queens lording it over people. Random and Vialle however had not treated him as a subject so he decides to treat her like a normal person just ignoring her title and use the young woman's name instead.

"Of course you may Vialle" Fergus said respectfully. There was something about the Queen of this place that commanded respect but he could not put his finger on it.

"I have not had much company for most of my life. I might as well get used to it now, since I am given to understand that this is a rather large family. Will you be accompanying Winnow and I on the guided tour?"

Winnow rises to his feet and bows to Vialle, softly banging the heels of his hands together once, a ritual gesture of respect. "Tling goh, Moa Ma." Winnow had taught Vialle his people's pleasantries, at her request. Referring to her as "Elder Sister Queen" in this way also avoids showing Fergus up for his inappropiate informality. Though Vialle was not the type to hold it against the newcomer, others might, and Winnow hopes there is an opportunity to casually instruct the man in the basics of good manners.

Function follows form. Bad form creates bad function. He remembers the words of his teacher Bokutumbe with great respect.

She smiles while taking her seat. "Alas, I have but twenty minutes or so to enjoy your company. Duties call." Gerard goes and prepares a small plate for her. "Yes, your family is quite large and spread out, Fergus. Several, like yourself, only became known to us recently. Our history has not, I'm sorry to say, always been good or kind or wise. Random and I are trying our best to avoid repeating past mistakes."

When Gerard places a small dish of bread, fruit and some thin slices of meat before her, she thanks him by name.

"I see that in your deeds Lady Vialle and I respect you and your husband for that."

A person's deeds said for more about them then any title that they claimed in Fergus' eyes. Anyone could claim to be a King or Queen but that was no indication of the person.

Fergus takes some more food and arranges it on a plate before he sits opposite Vialle. Vialle seems to lighten his mood and he actually smiles, though it is a rather tepid attempt.

"There are still many things about this place I still do not understand about this place and the family, though I am sure that Mr Winnow will teach me in good time. I hear there is a library here. In my time I spent a good deal of time reading, and I would very much like to look through your collection if that is at all possible."

"Of course! There are many libraries here and you are very welcome to any of them." She eats skillfully and quickly.

Mister? That must be an honorific of Fergus' native language, though in my poor judgment he speaks the Ancient Tongue with a more Amber-like accent than I. And a library? Words and books are all very well, but as he himself implied...it is deeds that ultimately tell. At least he has caught himself and given the Queen something. I must remind myself that customs vary, and how easy it is to judge another without walking in his footsteps.

Winnow continues to do great damage to the buffet, perhaps even surpassing Gerard in this matter. It is likely that he has consumed at least ten pounds of food and drunk a gallon of water, and a bit of fruit juice.

"Again you have my thanks Lady Vialle. I'm afraid I can offer nothing but my thanks for your kindness."

Fergus takes a mouthful of some cold meat from his plate and chews thoughtfully. Upon finishing he decides to ask something of Winnow.

"So cousin tell me why write upon your body rather than on paper. Was paper in short supply from where you are from?"

Winnow swallows convulsively and laughs uproariously, his voice booming out merrily. "I carry my library upon my body, Poa Fergus, in case I forget who I am!" He laughs again.

Pointing to various inks and becoming a bit more composed, he says, "They tell my story, of my birth under the sky-god Pruha," - he points to a rendering of a comet, then to other places - "my manhood rites, my first hunt, my first man-kill...many things."

His expression darkens, becoming serious and angry, and Winnow growls, "and of course we had paper! Do you think us primitives!" After a moment his expression cracks, and Fergus belatedly realized the man was joking with him, as he laughs again.

"Perhaps I am." He turns his head toward Vialle, who seems to sense his gaze, then slides his eyes back toward Fergus sidelong. "But I do not judge that a bad thing."

He blinks, deliberately. "Where is the story of your life written?"

It is difficult for Fergus to tell if Winnow is angry with him or having some jest at his expense, his expressions changing so rapidly. He decides to merely answer the words for he had already told the big man that he may accidently offend him.

"I wrote a diary for a while" he concedes to Winnow "but I gave up after a few years. It was not an interesting document. There are only so many ways of saying remained in my prison and sat around reading. Whereas I sense that your's contains import to you beyond a mere book. That fascinates me. I envy you your experiences." That last bit brings sadness back to Fergus' voice.

Winnow turns back to Fergus, his espression one of great sorrow. "I do not envy you yours." Lest he drift into pity, which no man welcomes, Winnow forces his expression back to placidity.

"But you are here now, and free, and among the gods. And if you care to allow me, someday, I would be honored to read your story."

At what seems to be a socially opportune moment, Winnow will stand, then bow. His manner suddenly changes, and there is only a slight sparkle in his eyes. His speech is strangely accented yet formal, as if he learned Thari far away, but among a high-cultured people. "Your Majesty, Your Highness, I beg leave to begin my cousin's familiarity, and thus, relieve you both of the burden of our insignificant presence." Vialle can detect the wisp of irony, but no one else could.

Did this big man really think of himself as insignificant? Particularly when he kept referring to them as Gods.

Fergus finishes up his plate and carefully puts it down. There is no where for him to wash and clean it and he realises that some servant will be made to do it. Thinking again he picks the plate back up. Winnow can show him to the kitchens first where he can clean it and put it away.

Winnow watches the small theatre of Fergus and plate, not revealing his emotions.

I think I know what is going on in his mind, but no man truly knows another. Perhaps he desires a keepsake? Perhaps where he comes from a man does not let anyone take what he has eaten from, lest he conjure with it? Or someone has lied to him for so long that he believes his station is as a servant?

To have been a prisoner all his life...how could a boy become a man?

Vialle smiled at the huge man. "Dear Winnow, your manners are as ever extravagant. If Fergus will accept your company and guiding, I do think that might be best."

"I will thank you Lady Vialle and it is a pleasure to meet you again. No doubt we will see each other again later."

With that he stands up taking his plate and knife and claps the larger man on the shoulder.

"Perhaps you can show me to the kitchens first Winnow so that I can clear up after myself."