"It was one of the very first I made, when I was ten or so. I used to use it to sneak in here and visit Mattus late at night. I dug it out when I wanted to check on you—it's the only one I had for this room." He shrugged. "For all the thanks I got…"
I snorted, then tossed the Trump onto my bed. "Yes, I'm ungrateful. I'll keep it, if you don't mind."
"I do mind. Dad won't be happy," he said, folding his arms stubbornly. "I'm supposed to be watching you."
"You're not doing a very good job of it, and a Trump of my bedroom isn't going to help. Besides, I value my privacy. You can have it back when I'm not sleeping here any more."
"But how can I watch you if you lock the door?"
"I have to have some way to keep the monsters out."
"Or in!"
I chuckled. "That, too."
"You're the most conceited brother I've got. And that's saying a lot."
"Port!" I called.
The face appeared in the middle of the door. "Yes, Lord Oberon?"
"My brother is not to be admitted inside my rooms unannounced," I said. "If you see him appear inside through magical means, give a warning shout, will you?"
"Very good, sir."
"And open up for him, will you? He's just leaving."
Aber sighed and shook his head in frustration.
"It's all right," I told him. Stepping forward, I clasped his shoulder and gently turned him toward the door. "Neither Rèalla nor I meant any insult to you. I know you're trying to look out for me. Go downstairs. I'll join you for breakfast in five minutes. Wait for me."
As my door unlocked itself and swung open, he stomped out into the hallway, muttering about insanity running in our family.
He was probably right. Every member of our family seemed to have more than his fair share of problems. Our father was a compulsive liar. Aber felt a constant need to prove himself. My sisters Blaise and Freda were obsessed with spying on each other—and on everyone else. Even Locke, supposedly such a great and noble warrior, the best of us all, had been a petty, paranoid, jealous, and thoroughly obnoxious prig, unwilling to accept anyone who might threaten his favored status as firstborn son. That's why he had hated me. That's why he had prevented our father from bringing me to Juniper to join the rest of our family until it was almost too late.
Feeling tired and old, I retrieved Aber's Trump from the bed and put it on the desk, next to my sword. I'd take it with me when I went out, in case I needed to find my way back here quickly. Then I began to get dressed.
Rèalla returned just as I finishing pulling on my boots. She looked splendid again, in a pale, shimmering green gown. I smiled and pulled her to me, feeling nothing but regret. Why did the beautiful ones always mean trouble?
"You are angry?" she asked.
"At you? No." To my surprise, I found I honestly wasn't angry at her. I wished she had told me the truth at once, but she could not help her nature.
"Good." She buried her head in my shoulder. "I thought I had lost you."
"No." I hugged her tight, but I could feel a new tension between us. Our perfect moment had passed.
The door to the hall still stood open. My valet poked his head in, saw us, smirked, and had the good sense to withdraw—closing the door in the process. At least someone here had manners.
As I held Rèalla, I could feel the flutter of her heart. A dangerous game indeed, I knew, leaning forward and breathing her musky scent. She had to think nothing had changed between us, at least for now.
There was an old saying… hold your friends close, and your enemies closer. I thought of that as I cupped her chin in my hand, and kissed her long and passionately. So beautiful… and she had come to betray me. To suck my blood, my strength, my life.
When we came apart for air, she took both my hands and gazed into my eyes.
"I trust you, Oberon," she said, searching my face. "I do not trust many men. Do not let me down."
"I won't," I said.
And yet I felt my love for her slipping away. I had been a fool, a childish, impulsive fool. I never should have trusted anyone in this place. I should have let Aber kill her. I should have done anything other than what I had done… and what I knew I would continue to do.
Women had always been my one great weakness. Years ago, in Ilerium, when I was sixteen and a raw recruit in King Elnar's army, I spent a night whoring with my friends after a particularly bloody campaign against the Nazarians. That night a much-scarred old captain named Mezeer pulled me aside.
"You have real promise," Captain Mazeer had said to me, and I saw then that he was very, very drunk. "Don't… don't throw it all away."
"What do you mean?" I asked him.
"I've seen the way you look at women… I've seen the way they look at you… You're too handsome… too trusting." He hiccupped. "It's a bad combination. So… my young friend… watch your step. A woman… a woman will get you killed if you don't."
It had been good advice. And I had never taken it.
Instead of running for my life, I kissed Rèalla again. She leaned into my arms, body lightly thrust against mine, lips warm and soft, the smell of her filling my nostrils.
Kissing her this way, my anger disappeared. I had nothing to fear from her, I thought, as I felt her body responding to mine. True, she had been using me. And yet, in my own way, I had been using her as well. She had been an anchor to normality for me, a way to hold onto my old life.
I no longer needed such a support. Instead, I would turn her to my own purposes.
"Tell me why you really came here," I said.
"Because…" She hesitated, searching my face, and I saw the shame of betrayal in her eyes. I nodded slightly, encouraging her; I could use that emotion—bend it, reshape it to my needs, and make it serve me.
I said, "Because you love me."
She nodded.
"For us to continue," I said, "I must know everything. We cannot have secrets. Tell me, who sent you here?"
"Lord, I must not! None of us will be safe!"
"No one will harm you. I promise."
She bowed her head. "It was Lord Ulyanash," she whispered.
Ulyanash… the name meant nothing to me. Could he be the serpent I had seen in my visions, torturing my brothers and spying on me?
"Describe him," I said.
"He is tall and dark, with long black hair, two small white horns, and red eyes, like coals." She hesitated. "He was born of a minor house, I know, but his ambitions are well known. He has many friends and supporters in King Uthor's court these days…"
"Is that where you met him?"
"Yes. I was in the employ of Lady Elan. He… persuaded her to place me into his service."
I nodded; the stealing of servants was a much-practiced tradition in Ilerium among the nobility. It seemed little different here.
"What else can you tell me about him?" I asked.
"I think he does not care about you. He did not know who you were before he sent me here—all he had was your name. He could not even tell me what you looked like."
"That's why you asked who I was in the hallway, the first time we met?"
"Yes. But this plan was not of Lord Ulyanash's design. He does not have the imagination."
"You were to kill me, weren't you?"
She could not meet my gaze. Head down, she nodded.
"Why didn't you?" I asked.
"I could not! You were so kind to me… you treated me like an equal, not a servant." She hesitated. "And… I liked you. Even though it will cost me my life when he finds out, I could not obey. I could not kill you."
"Thank you for that." I hugged her close. Her heart fluttered in her chest; I could feel it as our skins touched. Then, as I nuzzled her neck, wondering how much more she knew, I felt her shiver.
"Why does he want me dead?" I asked. That was the one thing I did not understand. "Why not my father, or my brother Aber? I have no power here. They are the ones who matter, not me."
"I do not know, Oberon."
She pulled away and perched on the edge of the bed, sighing deeply. "For some reason, Ulyanash fears you, and that makes him dangerous. You must be careful in all things. Your enemies here are powerful."
I sat beside her, and a plan began to take form in my imagination. I put my arm around her shoulder, comforting.
"You must go back to Ulyanash," I said.
"No!"
"You must," I said firmly. "Tell him you've done your job and I'm dead. Then see what else you can find out. I need to know whose plan this was, and why they want me out of the way. Otherwise their next attempt to kill me may well succeed." I gave her another quick kiss. "Talk to no one else about me. And… come back as soon as you can?"
She smiled wistfully. "Yes, Oberon. I will come back. But…" She glanced pointedly at the door, and I read her expression.
"Aber won't hurt you. I won't let him—or anyone else here. You are under my protection now, for whatever good that does."
She brightened noticeably. "Thank you, Oberon."
"I'll talk to my brother after you're gone. All right?"
She smiled, squeezed my hand, and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
Then, without a backward glance, she let herself out into the hallway.
Somehow, I had a feeling I would never see her again. Too much could go wrong with my plans. If Ulyanash had other spies in our household, or had other ways of spying on us, he would soon discover Rèalla's deception. And if that happened . . .
Sighing, I headed downstairs to find Aber.
EIGHTEEN
Throughout breakfast, Aber pretended to pout and hold a grudge. Course after course arrived, was served, and then carted away by attentive servants. At last, depositing vast trays of fruit and cheese on the table, they left us alone.
Aber sighed. "Sometimes," he said, addressing no one in particular though I knew he meant it for me, "I think I'm the only one left in this family with any sense."
"Sense, but no vision."
He turned his head in my direction. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Had we done the sensible thing in Juniper, we would all be dead now. We have to do the unexpected, the courageous, the daring. It's the only way we can hope to win. You need to see the proper path. It's not always the safe one."
He snorted. "You sound like Dad now."
"That's a good thing."
I leaned forward, looking him in the eye, and bluntly told him of my plans for Rèalla… how she would claim to have killed me, then spy on her master and report back whatever she learned. A little to my surprise, Aber seemed pleased.
"Who is her master?" he asked. "Who sent her here?"
"Some minor Lord of Chaos. His name is Ulyanash."
He paled. "Ulyanash?"
"Do you know him?" I demanded.
"Lord Ulyanash is… not a friend. To any of us." His expression hardened.
"Could he be behind it all? The murders? The attack on Juniper?"
"What did your succubus say?"
"She didn't think it was him."
He shook his head slowly. "I don't think so, either. He's an idiot. If he weren't such a good fighter, no one would pay any attention to him. There must be someone else, someone more powerful who's working quietly to control and direct him."
"That's exactly what Rèalla said."
He gave me an odd look. "You found out quite a lot from her, didn't you?"
I shrugged. "You get more from women with kisses than threats. Take a lesson from that."
"Maybe I was wrong about her," he admitted. I knew how hard that must have been for him to say. "Just don't promise her too much, okay, Brother? I don't want a succubus for a sister-in-law."
I smiled, letting my eyes go distant. "She is beautiful…"
"She came to kill you!"
I chuckled. "You're too easy to tease. Don't worry, I know what she is and why she came to me. I won't forget. Once her work is done…" I shrugged. "Our family and our safety, in that order, is what matters."
He nodded, studying me. I could almost read his thoughts: Perhaps I wasn't quite the naive and trusting young soldier I appeared. I had the impression he had unexpectedly raised his estimation of me.
"You'll kill her after all?" he asked. "For feeding on you?"
"I never said that."
"No, but…"
I went on, "You're too bloodthirsty for your own good. Let me worry about Rèalla. I'll take care of her in my own way, and in my own time."
He gave a half groan. "You're going to end up marrying her, I know it!"
"Forget about her. She doesn't matter. We have important things to talk about."
"All right. Where do we start?"
"With Lord Ulyanash. Tell me everything you know about him."
My brother took a deep breath. "If I recall correctly, his full name is Demaro il Dara von Sartre Ulyanash, Baron of the House of Tanatar and Lord of the Far Reaches. I'm sure there ought to be a couple dozen more titles in that list, too, but I can't remember them."
"Sounds impressive," I said. "Lord of the Far Reaches…" I imagined a sprawling castle with vast estates stretching farther than the eye could see.
Aber half sneered. "The Far Reaches are a distant swamp-land, and the House of Tanatar is about as far as you can get from King Uthor and still qualify as a blood relation. Like I said, it's a minor house."
"Then… why attack us?" I asked. "What have we done to him?"
"Nothing, that I know of."
"From what you and Locke told me, we're no threat to him… or to anyone else here. So why bother with us? We were all off in Shadow, minding our own business. How can killing us possibly advance Ulyanash's standing—or anyone's?"
"He has always had ambitions beyond his station," Aber said. "His rise in court has been—for lack of a better word—surprising."
"How so?"
"The first time I saw him, he reminded me of a bear strolling through a crystal shop. He didn't know how to act, or who to flatter. He made mistake after mistake, and everyone laughed at him. Finally Lord Dyor decided to make an example of him for other distant relatives to learn from. Dyor arranged a duel by custom methods, and they fought."
"Did you see it?"
"Yes. The whole court did."
"What happened?"
He swallowed hard. "Ulyanash killed him—slowly and brutally. He would not accept satisfaction after first or second blood. If anything, he turned the fight into a brutal, bloody circus. Women were crying. Men begged them to stop. But Ulyanash would not yield his right, and he made an example of Lord Dyor that no one who saw it will ever forget."
"Was Dyor a good fighter?" I asked.
"One of the best in the Courts."
"What happened next?"
"Everyone said Ulyanash was finished. Rumor said King Uthor planned to strip him of his titles and throw him into the Pit of Ghomar for what he'd done. And yet, despite that, nothing happened. Instead of being punished for his effrontery, Ulyanash began attending the best parties and social gatherings, from the Blood Festival to the Feast of the Seven Dials. You couldn't escape him. He moved into the center of everything, and the best men and women stood cheerfully beside him as equals." He shook his head. "They shouldn't have paid any attention to him, considering his family and what he did to Lord Dyor, and yet… there he was. Still is, I suppose."
Slowly I nodded. It made sense to me now. Someone powerful had seen what Ulyanash could do and decided to use him. And part of that use had been against our family.
I asked, "Who is his patron?"
"I don't know. He must have one, or he wouldn't have gotten as far as he has. But I never heard anyone speak of it."
"Perhaps they were frightened."
"That's possible. I know he frightens me!"
"Can you guess who might be supporting Ulyanash?"
"No." He shook his head. "I never heard before, and I've been away too long now to make discreet inquiries. My few friends in court have all drifted away and aligned the
mselves elsewhere. I haven't heard any gossip in years. None of us has, not Freda nor Blaise nor even Locke, though he would have been the best bet. He probably could have found out through his mother's side of the family… they have strong connections."
"Death is never convenient," I said. "Forget about Locke. Any other ideas?"
Shaking his head, he said, "Our family has never been very popular. Once Dad inherited his titles, that pretty much finished off our influence in the court. Dad never cared enough to bother making any friends or allies who could help us… he was too busy experimenting and building his little toys."
Somehow, considering our family, I wasn't terribly surprised. I sighed. I must have gotten it from my mother's side of the family, but I had never had trouble making friends. I would have to work on building up our list of allies in the Courts of Chaos… assuming I lived long enough.
Despite Aber's lack of immediately useful information, I had a feeling I could still learn a few things from him. I decided to try a different approach.
"Let's work backwards," I said. "How many people here have enough power and influence that they could raise Ulyanash to his present favored position?"
"That's hard." He frowned, thinking. "King Uthor, of course. Perhaps a few of his ministers. Maybe a dozen Lords of Chaos who are central to the throne and its power."
"Then we have a fairly short list. We'll need to work through it one at a time, trying to eliminate them. I don't suppose any of them look like giant serpents?"
"Afraid not. At least, not the last time I saw them. But that was years ago.
I nodded. "What's Ulyanash like in person? Charming?"
"Boorish and obvious. He never has a good thing to say about anyone but himself. How great a swordsman he is, how many duels he's fought, how many kills he's made."
"He must have some useful traits."
"He's a good fighter. Other than that…"
That was pretty much what Rèalla had said.
"What else can you tell me about him? Is he vain? Conceited?"
"Both, I'd say. Ulyanash thinks he's better than everyone else, and he's quick to take offense at any slight—real or imagined. He likes to force duels. The one with Taine—"
New Amber Trilogy 2 - Chaos and Amber Page 13