House of Cards Contributions Log

Upon a Black River

posted by Blake at 06:15 PM, October 14, 2003 | Filed under : Fiction | Comments and Followups

Shortly after the discovery of the Black Road in Shadow

He crouched down, pulled a handful of the darkened grass from the ground. The smell of fresh earth and plant life was rich as he sniffed it, paused a moment to crush it in his hand before he looked at the young woman who stood beside him.

“Green grass.” she said simply. “Now again.”

Jerod frowned a moment, then sniffed again, looked at her with a startled look. “Rosemary?” he asked.

“It is different each time.” Tia said. “Once more.”

He sniffed again, pulled back and threw the decaying mass of pulp in his hand to the ground as the putrid stench filled his nostrils. He rubbed his hand on his pants and wished for water to clean the slime away.

“It is always the same.” she said. “Fresh, green, growing things. Only to change, to wither as soon as picked, to decay and fester like a sickness.” Her expression was troubled once more as it had been he remembered, from when he first met her two days ago. “The land is not right. There is death coming.”

“How long has it been this way?” Jerod asked as he stepped away from the patch of darkened grass, a vile blotch in an otherwise peaceful meadow.

“Nearly a month.” Tia replied. “Though it was not as bad as this. Before, it was only noticed near the mountains, the foothills where the targan forest begins. The herdsmen noticed the flocks refusing to eat the spring grasses.”

“But since then it’s become stronger, hasn’t it?” Jerod asked, though he seemed to know the answer before she nodded. “And those who go to the mountain foothills now? Are there disappearances? And anyone coming back, comes back strangely?” Another nod.

He stopped to look at the mountain range, the foothills in the distance but a full days ride. The centermost was oddly shape he noted, a caldera most likely he thought. “I’ll want to go to this forest edge, to see for myself.”

“Are you sure? No one has come back from there in nearly a week. All of the herdsmen stay away now, moving their flocks south, even though they know the grazing is poorer. At least they will not suffer the pestilence that holds sway there.” she said. There was a tinge of fear in her expression, he recognized.

“I’ll be okay.” Jerod said. “I can take care of myself.”

****

“Thank you.” Eric said to his brothers, watched as Jerod entered, his son nodding to Julian and Caine as they departed.

“The incursion?” Jerod asked, settled into a chair.

“Third one in as many weeks.” Eric said. “Julian said the intruders were different from the previous two. And Caine said he followed their approach line back through Shadow. He lost them after a time, but he noticed a strange effect rippling in shadow. Some kind of cut or tear in the fabric of some Shadows. It seems to manifest itself as a line, or a road perhaps.”

“And no idea where it’s coming from?” Jerod asked, noted the shake of his father’s head.

“Caine says he had trouble when he approached it. It appears to warp the area around it. Sometimes in very violent ways, other times very subtly.” Eric said as he stroked his beard. “He advised against anyone trying to investigate it for the time being. At least alone. I’m thinking I’m going to send Julian and Gerard out. Caine’s itching to get back to sea duty and I want to see if Julian can pick up something with that tracking skill of his.”

“When will they being going out?” Jerod asked, perking up a little in his chair.

“I’m not sure. I’ll figure that out today, maybe tomorrow.” Eric said, his gaze narrowed. “But you won’t be going.”

“Why not?” Jerod asked, bristled a little at the thought of not accompanying his uncles.

“Because it’s going to be dangerous. This is something we’ve never encountered before.” Eric replied. “And under those circumstances I’d prefer not to put you in harm’s way, not until we’ve got a better idea what we’re facing.”

“You can’t keep me hidden from the dangers in the world, dad.” Jerod said. “I’ve got to go sometime.”

“Maybe. But the advantage of being King, and your father, is that I get to make that decision in my own good time.” Eric said, firmly but not without sympathy. “And right now son, that’s not now. You are not to accompany your uncles. Is that clear?”

****

“Your father did not approve of your coming?” Tia whispered, slid up against him, her arm crossing his chest.

“No.” Jerod said and shook his head slightly. He turned slightly, pulled her a little closer. He enjoyed the warmth of the cabin, the quiet of the village; so different from the constant turmoil of home. “He thought I was not ready. He told me not to accompany my uncles. So I left early.” and he smiled a little.

“He’ll be very displeased with you.” she said. “It sounds like he is not one to have on your bad side.”

“Well, it’s a petty excuse I know. I’m sure Dad will not appreciate me using the justification that I went alone instead of with my uncles.” Jerod said. “But I had to try. It’s gotten so…stifling there of late.”

“You sound like my brother.” Tia said, looked wistful for a moment.

“Travor has not returned?” Jerod asked, felt her shake her head as she breathed deeply. He pulled her closer still, lingered a kiss upon her forehead as the silence grew around them.

“You will still go to the foothills?” she asked, with resignation. And Jerod nodded. “And if I lose you?” she asked. “What then? There have been too many lost already.”

“And if nothing is done, there may be many more lost.” he replied. “Trust me. I can do it.”

****

“He will not be pleased, Lord.” Venesch said, watched as Jerod prepared his horse, tightened the straps.

“Of late my father has much on his mind. He seems to be displeased with a great deal. I suspect this will not add a great deal to that burden.” Jerod said, finished with the buckles and smiled a little at Venesch. “Relax old friend. I just want to take a look, see what’s out there. We’re stretched thin with family right now. I’m not going to get myself killed.”

“Not like when you decided to try that spear training I warned you about?” Venesch said, reminded his favourite student of a foolish injury. Jerod looked over at him, glared just a moment as he remembered, turned to collect the saddlebags.

“You were young and foolish then. You wanted to prove yourself so much to your father.” Venesch continued. “You always have. And it took you two weeks to heal. Thankfully for you, you are your father’s son or you would have been dead. Yet your father was proud of you even before then. You had nothing to prove to him.”

“Maybe I’ve got something to prove to myself?” Jerod said, settled the bags on the horse, worked the tie-down straps.

“Then you have not learned the lesson I have taught you.” Venesch said. “Mind and focus, the body disciplined, the spirit…”

“…the spirit calm, at peace. The Three that become One.” Jerod replied, finishing the maxim. “The three layers of power, against which no force can assail.” and he looked at his mentor. “I still remember.”

“But you do not use it, Lord.” Venesch said.

“I use it. More than you might realize. But there comes a time when you have to go out into the world.” Jerod said. “I can’t stay in the schoolyard forever.”

Venesch took a breath, duty warring with affection. For a moment the guard dropped as he spoke. “Perhaps. But sometimes the teacher would wish for a few more lessons…just to make sure his pupil is ready.”

Jerod looked at Venesch for a moment, adjusted his sword belt a little before he walked over. He put a hand on Venesch’s shoulder, squeezed a bit as he nodded. “The pupil will remember his lessons.” he said quietly. “And he will not fail you.”

****

He squeezed through the fissure in the rock face, looking down at the caldera floor below, the shallow black river moving eerily. The forest of the crater was silent, the wildlife hushed as if in sleep or death. For a moment Jerod paused, assessed his situation and looked down upon life twisted by something beyond imagining. A part of him wondered at what lay ahead, and the risks of continuing. The climb through the foothills had been long, especially without the horse that had refused to proceed past the forestline, terrified of something only it could sense.

There was an oppressiveness to the air, a presence that seemed to surround Jerod, turning and moving as he moved, always watchful, waiting like a tiger for the prey that passes too close. He shook his head, taking a deep breath as he steeled himself for the first step downward. There was fear here, and not only his. Something sought him, for what reason he could not discern. He only knew that it watched and waited - a wildness, insanity waiting in the wings.

As he reached the river, the oppressive aura seemed to fade a little, lessening with proximity to the inky blackness of the water, if that is truly what he would call it. Yet something made Jerod leery, that sense of something…wild, insane, ravaging. Waiting, eager for destruction, for death, even as the voice spoke. “Welcome Lord.”

Jerod turned, watched as Travor emerges from the forest, walking with ease into the small clearing near the river. “Welcome Lord. We have waited for your arrival since we sensed your presence.” he said, walked slowly towards Jerod. There was a fluid grace to his movements that defied a human norm, the moreso as Jerod gazed upon empty eyesockets. Travor looked nearly a week past death, yet still he walked.

“There is no need for that.” Travor said as Jerod drew his sword, stopped several feet outside sword range. “I am unarmed.”

“I will not take that as a sign of advantage on my part.” Jerod replied. “You are not the one I seek.”

“Oh, but we are.” Travor countered. “You came seeking knowledge, the answer to the mystery of this place. We knew you would come. We could feel it, your hunger. You needed to know, to challenge the mystery and best it. We have the answer. We merely needed to wait for you to come to us.”

“Who are you?”

“We are Invited. We follow the path laid before us by invitation, by the one who gave of himself so that we could leave the empty places. We offer you the answer to the mystery.”

“That’s hardly an answer.” Jerod replied.

Travor smiled, a sickening empty expression. “It is so much more than you realize, Lord. Do you not hear? Listen carefully, open yourself to the voices and all will be revealed.”

Jerod paused, caught something, a whisper, a breeze in the trees, low and seductive. He shook it off, tried to focus again on Travor, only to catch another. And another.

“They want to show you, Lord. Life and death, answers to all things that have haunted you, that will come to you in the future. They can give you that. Imagine that! All your questions, put at last to rest. Listen…”

Jerod looked at Travor for a moment, caught himself again as the voices continued. One, then another, then many. Whispering, beckoning, insistent, seductive, demanding. He could sense them - longing, love, hate, anger, fear, sadness, joy. All of them, as they offered, whispered, pulled at him, drained him, drew him in all directions, drew him to insanity, to chaos. He did not feel the sword loosen in his grip.

“Soon Lord.” Travor said as the eyesockets began to glow, sickly green and putrid. “Soon, you will know all that is needed, and we shall know you forever. Let go Lord.”

He struggled to raise his head, caught a glimpse of the glow and winced at the light, sickly and so unlike the light of home and hearth.

“Let go Lord.”

****

“Focus Lord!” Venesch called, motioning to the soldiers who pelted at Jerod with blunted weapons. Three hours into the training, remorseless, insistent. Jerod was tired, his mind uncoordinated as he fought to deflect the many swords. He succeeded mostly, but not in all cases.

“Do not see the blades.” Venesch said, watched as Jerod moved and weaved. “Do not feel your strength. The strength of the body is not enough. The discipline of the mind is not enough. The strength of spirit is inadequate of itself. Focus!” and he watched as Jerod worked, called the mantra of mind and body and spirit, watched as the tiredness took effect as Venesch had planned, stripping away the preconceptions, making his student open to the lessons.

“Remember the Three. The Three that Become One. The Body is nothing. The strongest is but an animal in the jungle. Dangerous and uncontrolled. The Body and the Mind are nothing together. They give cunning to the tiger, but still it falls to the serpent, to the pit, to disease and starvation. The Body, the Mind, the Spirit - the Three that Become One. A single force are they - the spirit drives the body that the mind directs, harnessing spirit and body to the task at hand.” Venesch calls, watched as the blunted blades were deflected more and more, the strides became smoother, the sword work sharper and clearer, the breathing less haggard. “The spirit soothes the mind, defeating the fear that the body feels. The body contains all of these, the shell that is more than a shell.”

“Focus.”

****

“Let go Lord.” Travor called, creeping closer as Jerod looked again, closed his eyes a moment against the green glare.

As he shut his eyes against the image, for a moment the flash of color in his mind caught his attention. Purple and red and blue, colors of home and familiarity, of power and presence, the fire of Pattern and Order.

“Yes, the Pattern.”, he thought. The fire that burned without burning, that gave him power over Shadow. And he watched it seemed for an eternity as the light grew stronger in his mind, the image grew sharper, clearer. The extended curves and lines, always seeming to want to expand beyond his mind’s eye, yet always within his gaze, now so strongly that he could not look away from it.

“Focus.” a voice whispered. “Mind, Body, Spirit. Focus upon the One.”

Jerod turned, or thought he turned, looked for the voice. He knew somehow that still he was in the crater of the mountain, the forest around him, the walking dead still approached. Yet he was here also and raised his hand towards the symbol of his family’s power. The power that made him what he was, the greatest of all men, a Prince of Amber. For an instant, something let go and he felt humbled before this sign, so much greater than anything he could ever be. Yet carried within him at every turn. He turned again, looking always upon the Pattern, but heard nothing now.

“Focus.” the voice whispered, a touch of…something? Pleasure, satisfaction, love? Jerod could hear nothing else now, realized the whispering was gone, the time standing still here as he realized his danger. Yet the fear did not rise, though he knew it was there. The strength returned to his hand, the sword grip tightening. The mind awoke from the slumber imposed upon it, as the One awakened.

“Focus.” the voice whispered one last time, as Jerod reached for the Pattern, touching its fire…and opened his eyes.

Travor had paused, the grace in his steps vanishing as Jerod rose. The forest and river seemed to radiate cold, insanity and darkness. Yet it did not touch Jerod.

“Do not resist Lord. Give yourself to us.” Travor said, the voice gravely now, the smooth sweetness gone now. “We have your answers.”

“I have all that I require.” Jerod said as he took a step forward, then another, his steps searing the blackness from the ground, leaving a swath of living green behind him, stripping the horror from the life that it had held in thrall.

Travor back-pedalled as Jerod approached, too slow to avoid the sword that flicked out. The head tumbled from the shoulders a moment later, the eye sockets empty and lifeless, the body decaying even as Jerod turned, watched as the minions hidden in the river flowed out. He smiled just a little as he watched them, then flipped the sword up and drove downward into the depths of the blackness of the river bed.

And the world exploded.

****

“And the girl?” Eric asked, taking a drink from his mug.

“I helped Tia bury her brother.” Jerod replied. “There wasn’t much left but at least she could do that. With the river gone, there was no threat any longer.”

Eric nodded, put the mug down as he thought of the report that his son had finished giving, the clues and hints of what this black menace might mean. “And your sword?”

“It’s still there.” Jerod said. “Something told me not to take it out of the bedrock of the streambed. It wasn’t that something bad would happen if I did. More that, it should stay there, as a sign. A marker maybe. I’m not sure.”

Eric nodded again, took a deep breath. “I’m wondering what I should do with you.” he said. “You disobeyed my direct orders. You know you weren’t supposed to go out there.”

Jerod nodded. “I know.”

“You could have been killed. You nearly were.” Eric said. “How am I supposed to trust you if you do this sort of thing whenever you feel like it.”

“I suppose you might not be able to.” Jerod said. “All I can say is that it worked out. I’m not justifying it either. It’s just…that’s all I can say.”

Eric motioned with his hand. “Go on…I’ll talk to you in a bit. After I’ve figured out something suitable to see about curbing some of that impetuousness.” He watched as Jerod rose from his chair and moved to the door.

“Jerod.” Eric watched as his son turned to look at him. “Off the record…I’m glad you did good.” he said simply.

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