To Rule in Amber tdoa-3

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To Rule in Amber tdoa-3 Page 4

by John Gregory Betancourt


  I came in low and from the right, hitting him fast and hard. I hammered at his blind side. He reeled back, turning my sword frantically. Then I deliberately over-extended my reach, letting my sword's point drop. He never saw it coming—the swelling blinded him—and even if he had, I don't think he had the strength left to stop it.

  My sword's point bit deep into his right foot. I jerked it free, and blood spurted.

  Yowling, he slashed wildly. His blade whistled through the air, missing my eyes by inches. When he landed on his bad foot, his leg started to give way. He staggered and almost fell.

  Got you! Leaping forward, I caught his frantically windmilling free hand, whirled, and heaved in one smooth motion. He sailed over my shoulder and landed flat on his back ten feet away. The breath whooshed from his lungs. He lay there stunned.

  I leaped, pinning his sword-hand beneath my boot. He released his weapon, gasping. He couldn't move, could barely breathe. I kicked the sword away, sending it skittering twenty feet across the stony ground to the very edge of the Pattern.

  “This is your last chance,” I said with more calmness than I felt. “Yield, Dad, and we'll have a drink and a laugh about it later.”

  Tired and hurt as he was, he tried to throw me off. I had to give him credit for that—I wouldn't have had the heart to continue the fight. Unarmed, how could he hope to continue?

  Suddenly he rolled to one side and made it to his feet in a convulsive movement. Before I could react, he whipped a knife from his belt.

  “Die!” he roared. He dove forward and tried to stab me in the chest.

  “Dad,” I said in a warning tone, dancing back to safety, “give it up! You don't have a chance!”

  He growled, so I clouted the right side of his head with the hilt of my sword. It made a meaty thunk. He fell to his knees, stunned.

  “Enough!” I kicked the knife away, then booted him in the stomach. He doubled over, gasping hard.

  “Sorry, Dad,” I said, more heartsick than angry. “But you brought this on yourself.”

  I punched the side of his head with the hilt of my sword again. He fell face-down, struggling to rise.

  “Thellops!” he cried.

  Without hesitation, I threw myself onto his back. I got a knee between his shoulder blades and pinned his arms behind his back.

  He couldn't possible attack me now—or get up, for that matter.

  “Tell me what I did to piss you off,” I said in his ear. “What in the seven hells does 'Thellops' mean, anyway?”

  Still growling, he turned his head and bit deep into my left wrist. With a yelp, I jerked free, then punched him twice in the back of his head. He started to whimper again.

  “Dad,” I said in a hard voice, “I'm going to help you. But you've got to stop trying to hurt me. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

  He tried to bite my hand again.

  After that, I lost my temper. I punched him until he passed out. Father or not, I would only put up with so much. I'd given him more than enough chances.

  When I'd caught my breath and regained control of my temper, I tied his wrists with strips of cloth torn from his shirt. I wasn't sure how well they would hold, so I searched him for weapons and removed a second knife, this one with the head of a unicorn worked into the hilt. Very nice. I tucked it into my own belt for safekeeping.

  Finished, I stood. The cuts on my hand and forearm had already stopped bleeding; I had always been a fast healer. The bite marks on my wrist would leave a half-moon shaped bruise, but nothing worse. He had gotten far worse than he'd given.

  I picked up my sword, sheathed it, then sat down cross-legged next to him to think. What should I do with him? I couldn't cart an unconscious—or worse, wide awake—homicidal lunatic around with me.

  He moaned and twitched suddenly. When I glanced over, I found him staring at me through slitted eyes. Great, not a moment's rest. With his face bruised and his nose bloody, he looked more pathetic than dangerous, but I knew better. His jaws slowly worked up and down, but no words came out.

  “What do you have to say for yourself?” I said.

  “Thellops,” he whispered.

  “Don't start that again.” I'd had just about as much of this “Thellops” as I could tolerate.

  Taking a deep, cleansing breath, I stood and stretched the stiffness from my neck and back. Then I retrieved his sword, sheathed it, and slung the second swordbelt across my shoulders. No point leaving it here.

  “Thellops… kill…” he muttered.

  I sighed. First things first… I had to get us out of here. How?

  In Juniper, Dad had somehow projected me into the unicorn's ruby. I had walked the length of the Pattern inside the gem. At the end, when my thoughts turned to Ilerium, the Pattern had sent me there.

  Maybe the same thing would happen after walking this version of the Pattern? If it had the power to somehow read my mind and send me wherever I wanted to go, that would be our surest way out.

  No time like the present to find out. I climbed to my feet.

  “Come on, Dad.”

  I picked my father up and threw him none-too-gently over my shoulder. He weighed less than I'd expected. If this worked, if the Pattern really could send me to another Shadow, I didn't want to leave without him.

  Now—where to go? Ilerium and all the other Shadows I'd known were gone… destroyed when Dad destroyed the first Pattern. I needed someplace safe. A Shadow close to this one, but protected from the worst of Chaos's influence. A warm, comfortable world like Juniper had been… but more easily defended.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  He moaned again, but made no protest. Lucky for him, he didn't try to bite me again. I didn't want to have to pound him back into unconsciousness.

  “Then let's go!”

  I visualized the Shadow in my mind, took a step forward—and the Pattern vanished.

  Chapter 5

  I found myself standing on a grassy mountainside, gazing down at a sparkling blue sea. An inlet with a ribbon of white sandy beach lay directly below, as beautiful as that at any seaside resort I had ever seen before. All it needed was a line of brightly colored canopies and pavilions. A warm, steady breeze carried the smells of salt and brine up to me as the low murmur of surf mingled with the raucous cries of gulls and other sea birds. As sunlight danced and sparkled on the waves, I glimpsed dolphins leaping a hundred yards out from shore. A good omen.

  Setting Dad down on the ground—he moaned and grunted several times, but lay still—I continued to turn, studying the terrain around me. To my right the mountain rose higher, strewn with the occasional boulder and oak tree; to my left lay a dense old forest, ready for logging. Behind me lay miles of open grassland, ideal for a town or perhaps farming—or both.

  “Thellops…” I heard Dad whispering faintly. He struggled to free himself, but I ignored him for now. He couldn't do much while tied up. “Not in time… Thellops…”

  I frowned. What exactly was this Thellops? Not in time for what? It might prove important. I'd have to find out as soon as I knew this Shadow would be safe for us.

  Turning, I picked my way among the boulders, climbing toward the top of the mountain. I remembered how the rocks had moved in Chaos, but thankfully these seemed perfectly normal and completely stationary.

  At the crest, I shaded my eyes and peered into the distance. I could see for miles in each direction. Dense forests lay to either side, then distant snow-capped mountains. The sea below sparkled endlessly.

  All in all, a very pleasant world, full of promise. It had everything I had wished for… except an insane asylum. A castle could easily be built here.

  If this Shadow had a flaw, it had to be the lack of inhabitants. We wouldn't be able to draw on the locals for help. Well, workers could always be brought in from other Shadows; there was very little gold couldn't buy, if you have enough of it. I had seen Aber's tricks with the Logrus often enough that I now knew anything could be found, and fairly fast, if you knew wher
e to look for it in other Shadows.

  I sat down on a large sun-baked rock to consider my options with greater care. Dad came first. I looked down at him with a measure of concern—at least he had stopped struggling to free himself and lay quietly. Clearly he needed real medical care. That meant doctors.

  Where to start? The Courts of Chaos? Doctors there (did they have doctors in Chaos?) might be able to help him. Unfortunately, we would undoubtedly be arrested if not killed on sight.

  I supposed I could carry him to other Shadows looking for help…

  Then I felt a flicker of mental contact. Someone was trying to reach me through a Trump. Aber? Freda? I would take whatever help I could get.

  Opening my thoughts, I found myself gazing at my half-sister Blaise, but uncertainly, as though through a hazy, flickering tunnel. I saw part of a bed over her left shoulder. Her private chambers? I noted a smudge of dirt across her right cheek, and her normally elegantly coiffed hair now hung in disarray. I had never seen her looking this bad before.

  “Oberon!” she gasped.

  “What's wrong?” I gave a bitter smile. That might easily become our family greeting.

  “You are alive!” She smiled in relief.

  “I could say the same thing about you. How are you? What's going on there?”

  She smoothed her low-cut gown. Its shimmering green material, which accentuated her stunning figure, looked as though she'd slept in it for many days in a row.

  “I have been better. Where are you now? Safe?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I'm in a Shadow with Dad.”

  “Good. I had given you both up for dead.” She glanced almost casually over her shoulder. I heard a distant pounding noise and the clash of steel on steel. Swordplay?

  “What's going on there?” I said sharply. “Where are Freda and Aber?”

  “I'm about to be arrested by King Uthor's men,” she said with calmly measured tones. “I don't know what happened to the others. I haven't seen Freda in two weeks, and I haven't seen Aber in a month. Are you going to bring me through or not?”

  A loud banging noise, metal striking on wood, carried to my ears. She glanced over her shoulder again. The door behind her suddenly splintered.

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  “In the Courts,” she said. “Visiting Aunt Tana and Uncle Snoddar.” I had never heard of them. At my puzzled look, she went on: “They are all that's left of my mother's family. Unfortunately, things are not going well. Uncle is dead, and I think Aunt Tana just fled to the Beyond without me. I heard her carriage racing outside. Now, if you don't mind—”

  “Does Uthor have anyone else?” I asked.

  She nodded, eyes growing wide. “He ordered our whole family arrested. They already have Titus and, oh, I don't know how many others!”

  “And I'm your last hope for rescue,” I said with a sigh. It figured I'd be the last one she'd call.

  “Who else but the family champion?” She smiled almost desperately. Behind her, the door snapped in two; the top half sagged off its hinges. “Don't make me beg. Bring me through like a good brother.”

  Why not? I had nothing against her. In fact, my original low estimates of her had proved quite wrong. She had more of steel than lace in her blood, a true daughter of our father.

  “All right,” I said.

  She swallowed visibly. “And, if you wouldn't mind hurrying u—”

  I reached out to her. “Come on!”

  She seized my hand with bone-crushing force, and I pulled her through to join me on the mountaintop. The bedroom scene behind her disappeared just as the first of Uthor's snake-faced troops came through the door.

  Blaise gave a cry and collapsed into my arms. A jolt of alarm went through me. Had she taken a knife or crossbow bolt to the back?

  Gently, I eased her onto the grass, searching for any sign of a wound. I couldn't find so much as a scratch. And yet she lay there gasping.

  “Are you injured?” I asked.

  “No…” she whispered. “I just feel… very strange… it hurts… all over… very sleepy now…”

  Mental alarms went off. The same thing had happened to me the first time I entered the Beyond, the part of Chaos where Dad had his lands and keep. I had not been prepared for it, and I lay unconscious for most of three whole days as a result.

  Her head fell back and her eyes closed. She snored softly.

  “Oh, no you don't!” I cried. I shook her until her eyes opened Wearily. “Stay awake!”

  “Wha—why—?” she murmured blearily.

  “This Shadow is affecting you,” I said. “Fight it. Talk to me, sing to me, curse at me—anything! Just stay awake.”

  Her brow furrowed. “But I've been in a thousand Shadows before—”

  “Not like these,” I said. “Dad redrew the Pattern that's casting them. It's all different now, but subtly. Can't you feel it?”

  “Different?” Her eyes widened. “How? Where is this Pattern?”

  “Uh-uh.” I shook my head, smiling. “It's best if you don't know. Safer for you, too. Uthor would kill to find out.”

  She sighed. “Everyone's already trying to kill me… what can one more secret hurt?”

  “Not everyone.”

  “Need to sleep…” she whispered, head sagging toward her chest.

  “No! No sleeping! On your feet! Now!”

  I lifted her easily, and she slipped one arm around my waist for support. For a second she looked up at my face. Then, seemingly against her will, her eyes closed and her chin slowly lowered again.

  “Blaise!” I shouted.

  “I'm awake!”

  Her eyes blinked fast several times, then closed. She couldn't help it, I knew.

  No more fooling around—this time I slapped her as hard as I could, leaving a scarlet handprint across her left cheek.

  Her eyes flew open. A wolfish snarl came over her usually smooth features, and she twisted away from me.

  “How dare you!” she snapped. She punched my chest hard enough to stagger me back a foot. Like everyone in my family, she had a temper to reckon with. And fists of steel.

  I had the strangest feeling I might have gone too far. I had never seen her so furious. Still, it was too late to back down now, though not too late to apologize.

  “I'm sorry,” I said quickly. I rubbed at my chest. “Keep in mind, though, that I was only trying to keep you awake and alive!”

  “That's not good enough! Never touch me!”

  She caught my hand. Her grip tightened painfully.

  “That hurts!” I said, trying to keep my own temper. “Let go. We shouldn't be fighting among ourselves.”

  “I've killed men for less than that,” she said. Her voice had a dangerous edge.

  “I'm sure you have.” I smiled my most charming smile, which had been known to melt the heart of the iciest widow back in Ilerium. “It was the only thing I could think of to wake you up. I won't do it again if you don't go to sleep, okay? It's important.”

  “Explain it to me.” Yawning, she let go of my hand. At least she managed to keep her eyes open this time.

  “The same thing happened to me in the Beyond—I slept for three whole days. Dad and Aber finally got me up and wouldn't let me go to sleep. Dad was afraid I might never wake if they left me alone. I don't want that to happen to you.”

  “Where is Dad? You said he was here.”

  “Down the mountain.” I jerked my head toward him. “He's sick, too.”

  “Everyone in Chaos is looking for him. He has to go back. Is he asleep?”

  “No, tied up.”

  “What!”

  “It couldn't be helped.” I shrugged. “He isn't well. Not sleepy, really, but… kind of crazy.”

  “Crazy?” She stared at me. “What do you mean? What's wrong with him? If you did something—”

  “No, no, nothing like that.” I hesitated. “Maybe you'd better see for yourself. I think it might have something to do with the Pattern. It's obviously a
ffected you. Maybe it's affecting him, too.”

  “Show me.”

  I escorted her down the slope, one hand on her elbow to keep her steady. When we reached our father, she gave a mew of unhappiness and bent to untie him.

  I held her back. “Don't. It isn't safe to let him go. He tried to kill me.”

  “He's hurt—”

  “He'll live. I was just about to find him a doctor. I don't suppose you know anything about medicine…?”

  “A little.” She knelt beside him, pressing one hand to his forehead. Then, with the hem of her gown, she wiped a line of drool from his chin.

  “He's been badly beaten,” she said. “Who attacked him? King Uthor's men?”

  “I'm afraid it was me.” It came out apologetic. “I didn't have a choice, though. He was trying to kill me.”

  “Why?”

  “I don't know.” Shrugging helplessly, I knelt beside her. “He was acting crazy. He attacked me with a sword when I turned my back, and if he had been a little stronger, he would have killed me. He's a better swordsman than I am.”

  Her eyes narrowed, studying my face intently. “What did you do to him? He never does anything without good reason. Did you say or do something to make him mad? Did you threaten him in some way?”

  “No, I didn't do anything. I found him unconscious and was trying to help.”

  She touched the red handprint on her cheek. “Like you helped me?”

  “No. I shook him, but…” I shrugged.

  “Hmm.” She fumbled with the bindings on his wrists. “Help me get these off. Maybe—”

  “Don't do that!” I pulled her hands back. “I told you, he's dangerous. He fought like a demon. Next time, he might get lucky and kill me—or both of us!”

  “You have to let him loose. He's the only one who can save us.”

  “Save us?” I stared at her, puzzled. “Save us how?”

  “He caused the Shadows,” she said urgently. “Everyone in Chaos is talking about it. If he gets rid of them, maybe the king will let us go home agai—”

  I drew back. “Impossible.”

  “Why? Don't you want to go home?”

  “This is home. I need the Shadows like you need the Logrus.” I thought back to the unicorn and the Pattern, and suddenly the half-formed suspicions in the back of my mind came out: “Besides, the Pattern can't be destroyed. It isn't Dad's creation.”

 

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