Characters in The Dark Tower I: The Gunslinger

… figures moving through the slow, steady waltz steps or the faster, light ripples of the pol-kam, Aileen Ritter on his arm, the one his parents had chosen for him, he supposed, her eyes brighter than the most precious gems, the light of the …

“She was your mother?” “Aye. Gabrielle-of-the-Waters, daughter of Alan, wife of Steven, mother of Roland.”

… saw Kennerly; Kennerly’s younger daughter, perhaps eleven; Soobie; two male barflies; a whore named Amy Feldon. He let them all have it, and the ones behind them. Their bodies thumped like scarecrows. Blood and brains flew in streamers. They halted …

Halfway through, there was a machine-gun rapping at the door. Brown got up and let Zoltan in. The bird flew across the room and hunched moodily in the corner. “Musical fruit,” he muttered.

The pews were gone and the congregation stood (he saw Kennerly and his brood; Castner, owner of the town’s scrawny dry-goods emporium and his slat-sided wife; a few barflies; a few “town” women he had never seen before; and, …

… “You have crossed the white, and I, Charles son of Charles, consign you ever to the black.” The crowd murmured, some in protest.

How long you been screwin’ your sister, Charlie? Weed-eater!” Then the sound of a blow and a cry.

… David was an old hawk now. The boy hoped that he himself was a young one. “Hai,” he said softly and extended his arm to the tethered perch.

… Marten knew it better than any . . . except, perhaps, for Gabrielle Verriss that was.” The boy spoke at last, and with seeming reluctance. “She was your mother?” “Aye. Gabrielle-of-the-Waters, daughter of Alan, wife of Steven, mother of Roland.”

… Lord of Flies and Serpents, will be cast down and crushed . . . will you crush him if you see him, Jonson?” “Yes and praise God!” Jonson wept. “Wit’ bote feet!” “Will you crush him if you see him, brothers and sisters?” “Yess . . .” Sated. “If …

Jubal Kennerly had padlocked the livery, and the few other merchants had shuttered their windows and laid boards across the shutters.

“All right.” Hax nodded to the Guard, and he nodded back. “You boys,” he said. “Go over to Maggie, she’ll give you some pie. Then scat. Don’t get me in trouble.” Later they would both remember he’d said that: Don’t get me in trouble.

… used for the rite of coming of age since time out of mind, long before Cort and his predecessor, Mark, who had died of a stab-wound from an overzealous hand in this place. Many boys had left the corridor from the east end, where the teacher …

… formed by his father, his mother, and by Marten—known in some quarters as Farson, the good man. Or perhaps it was a quadrangle, if one wished to add himself. XI Gallows Hill was on the Taunton Road, which was nicely poetic; Cuthbert might have appreciated this, but Roland did not.

Brown did not look up. “The water’s a gift from God, as I think thee knows. Pappa Doc brings the beans.” The gunslinger grunted a laugh and sat down with his back against one rude wall, folded his arms, and closed his eyes.

Rhea, the witch’s name had been, and Susan was turning black in the flames, her skin cracking open, and— And what was she calling? “The boy!”

… He had fed them and they had gone understairs to eat and then Hax had brought the Guard named Robeson to the wrong corner of the kitchen for their treasonous little tete-a-tete. Ka had worked as ka sometimes did, as suddenly as a big stone …

Not yet. XI He and Allie were in bed when Sheb kicked the door open and came in with the knife. It had been four days, and they had gone by in a blinking haze. He ate. He slept.

… “You get in, Soobie! You get right the hell in!” Soobie began to drag her bucket sullenly toward the shack appended to the barn.

A little rustle ran through the audience. “I feel,” Sylvia Pittston said reflectively, “that I know almost everyone in the Good Book personally.

But on this day there were none but Jamie DeCurry, Cuthbert Allgood, Alain Johns, and Thomas Whitman. They clustered at the boy’s end, gape-mouthed and frankly terrified. “Your weapon, stupid!” Cuthbert hissed, in agony.

In the corner, Zachary had thrown Amy Feldon’s skirts over her head and was painting Reap-charms on her knees. A few other women circulated.