"Of course you do." He actually smirked.
"May I remind you, Uthor, that you are a guest in my home?"
He sighed. "We are not here to challenge titles, no matter how trivial." I bristled at that. Uthor leaned back in his seat. "Your father has told us something of your making, after all."
"Oh?" I glanced at Dad. My "making"? That struck me as a curious turn of phrase, but I did not comment on it. Perhaps it was some sort of Chaos formality when talking about new kings; I had little schooling in court etiquette. I'd ask questions about it later, in private.
"Uthor," I said, deliberately leaving off his title, "I am a man of plain words. All that has happened
- here and in Chaos - has given me little cause to like or trust you. Either get to the point or leave."
"Your honesty is most refreshing," Uthor said. He toyed with the stem of his goblet. "An excellent wine, by the way. Worthy of a king."
"I am not here to discuss the merits of table wines."
My father cleared his throat. "Patience, my boy. King Uthor is visiting under a flag of truce, after all. Hear him out."
"Very well." Easily I slid into the seat next to my father. Conner continued to stand behind us. To Uthor, I said, "I'm listening."
"We have much in common…" Uthor murmured, giving a vague wave of his hand.
"Indeed. Several common acquaintances." Slowly I reached into the pouch at my belt, found the Trump his assassin had been carrying, and placed it on the table before me. Uthor's eyes flickered down to it, but if he recognized it, he showed no reaction.
Uthor continued, "I am here… to discuss… an alliance." The words seemed almost painful to him.
I raised my eyebrows. "An alliance? Between Amber and Chaos?"
"Between brother kings." His lips twisted back almost involuntarily as he spoke; he tried to hide it by taking a sip of his wine. I could tell he did not like calling me a brother of any sort; he clearly considered me his inferior.
I leaned back, studying him. An alliance… this was an unexpected development. He had to be desperate to make such an offer.
"We may have some common interests," I said. I had to find out more before agreeing to anything. It sounded too good, too easy, to be true.
"A few, at least." Uthor refused to meet my gaze. "And certainly one common enemy."
Leaning back, I studied him. A common enemy? I thought him responsible for all the murders and assassination attempts on family members.
"Who might this enemy be?" I asked at last.
"Zon Swayvil, of course."
Zon… Lord Zon. But hadn't Uthor set Lord Zon against us? Why would those two be at odds now, when they both seemed to want Amber destroyed and my whole family dead?
Dad said, "Zon Swayvil has seized the throne and proclaimed himself King of Chaos. Assisted by the Logrus, of course."
"And he will die for it!" Uthor snarled, leaping to his feet.
Twenty-Six
"Ah." I leaned back in my chair, mind racing.
Suddenly it all made sense. Lord Zon had been using the fight between Chaos and my family to weaken King Uthor's position. We had all been nothing more than pawns in his game of thrones…
moved, then forgotten when he made his play for a larger prize… all of Chaos!
I realized how desperate Uthor must be to come to us here.
"Why should I help you?" I asked calmly.
I picked up the assassin's Trump and turned it over in my hands pointedly. "Clearly you have no great affection for my family, the Pattern, or its Shadows."
Uthor looked me in the eye. "I will not pretend otherwise. I do not like you. I do not like your father or your family. I gladly would have seen you all dead, your bloodline destroyed, and the Shadows erased forever."
"But…" I prompted.
He swallowed. "I am prepared to live with them, if necessary."
"Perhaps we should wait to see what Zon offers us," I countered. "He holds Chaos. His position is better than yours."
Uthor leaned forward. His face grew hard, and I could tell it pained him to speak these words. "I have never shirked from my duties," he said slowly. "This is a time of hard choices. You and your family are enemies of Chaos. You turned your backs on the Logrus and its power. I had no choice but to set myself against you."
"Much as Lord Zon has," I said.
"Swayvil wants power," Uthor said sharply. "He used you to distract me. Instead, I should have been watching him - and now I have been betrayed by the Logrus." He waved me to silence when I opened my mouth to ask what he meant. How could the Logrus betray him? "Listen well, son of Dworkin. You will only get one chance to join me."
"When must I decide?"
"Now."
"Wait here. We must confer."
He nodded.
"Dad?" I said.
He rose, and together with Conner, the three of us went into the hall. I shut the door behind us.
"Zon," I said, "seems to be the more dangerous enemy. But if we join with Uthor, can we trust him to keep his word?"
"I trust him," Dad said simply. "He has not been a great king as kings of Chaos go. But he has always acted out of a sense of duty. And I have never known him to break his word."
"Conner?" I asked.
"I agree. And if it means peace… if it means we can return home to Chaos…"
I nodded. I had pretty much decided the same way. Their opinions confirmed it.
I opened the doors and went back inside. Uthor rose. "Very well," I said. "I accept your offer.
Let there be peace between us. Together - together, we will defeat Zon and reclaim Chaos for you!"
Twenty-Seven
There were papers to be drawn and signed, sacred vows to be made, and oaths of mutual defense to be sworn. The three of us - Dad, Uthor, and I - worked throughout the night on the details, haggling, negotiating, compromising.
Finally, just before dawn, we had our agreement.
Simply put, in exchange for military and tactical support of King Uthor, our whole family would receive an official pardon from the king. Our family's confiscated lands in the Beyond and all former titles would be restored. Any family members still alive in the king's dungeons would be freed.
And, most important of all, Amber - and all its Shadows - would continue to exist under my sole rule - provided no more Shadow-storms struck Chaos.
Chaos and Amber would be separate… and equal.
It seemed too good to be true. And as I regarded King Uthor across the table, preparing to sign the last of the documents, I stroked my spikard ring and wondered that it did not pulse in warning.
Perhaps, as Dad said, Uthor really was a man of his word. I certainly hoped so.
He finished signing the paper with a flourish, then passed the pen to me. It still had sufficient ink in the nib, so I signed next to him. Then I used a signet Dad had provided, showing a unicorn, and Uthor did the same with his, which showed a griffin.
We both rose. He did not offer to shake hands. Neither did I.
"I will bring my army to your camp at noon," I told him. "And together we will march on Chaos."
"Until then." He nodded to me. "Iart! Snell!" he called to his men. Turning, the three of them strode from the room.
I leaned back in my seat, feeling exhausted but triumphant. We had done it. Amber would be safe.
Dad leaned forward. "Do not rest easily," he said. "Zon Swayvil holds the throne now. It will be difficult to dislodge him."
"One enemy at a time," I said, grinning. Nothing could dampen my enthusiasm today. "With Uthor on our side… and our combined forces… of course we will restore the rightful King of Chaos! How can we fail?"
"I hope not…" His eyes grew distant.
It took most of the next morning for King Aslom's forces to break camp. Fortunately they were seasoned veterans and well organized. They broke their camp quickly, loading their pack-animals and wagons, then with Aslom and his sons in their battle chariots, the cavalry mou
nted, and the footmen in ranks, we marched.
Conner and I took the lead again, and he moved us through Shadow. This time, though, we would come around to the other side of Uthor's valley, making camp in whatever fields we could find.
It was a long, hot, dusty trip, broken twice for meals and rest. But as evening approached, the Shadows grew true, and I knew we were close.
Three of Uthor's scouts rode out on black warhorses to meet us. All three were hell-creatures…
the lai she'one … with glowing red eyes beneath their steel helms. Their armor jingled faintly as they moved.
"King Oberon," said the one in the lead, who wore a lieutenant's insignia at his collar. "I am Nox.
I will be your liaison to the king's staff." His words were polite, though his tone showed scorn. "Your warriors are to camp north of here. My men will show them the way. I am to escort you to the king immediately."
"Very well." Again, I wished I had thought to bring a crown of my own. Too many details to remember… I would have to find a secretary at some point to manage such things.
"I'll take the men and get them settled in," Conner quickly offered.
"Thanks. Aslom! Haetor!" I called. A king could not enter another's camp unescorted. "You will come with me."
"Yes, Oberon!" they both cried. They steered their chariots forward, bumping across the rough ground.
"Lead on," I said to Nox.
Without a word, he wheeled his black stallion and headed for the valley where Uthor's forces were camped. As we followed, I heard Conner shouting orders to our men.
As we entered the long rows of tents, which seethed with movement as Uthor's men hurried through their duties, I heard a familiar voice calling my name from somewhere behind us. I craned around in the saddle and spotted Aber riding quickly toward me. He wore no armor and carried no sword; clearly duty hadn't called him here.
"My brother," I said to Nox.
He grunted and shrugged. Clearly he didn't care one way or another if Aber joined us.
My brother was out of breath when he finally caught up, bent over and gasping for air.
"What is it?" I asked him.
"I have a message from Freda," he said in a low voice. "A prophecy. King Uthor's life is in grave danger."
I shook my head in bewilderment. "We're about to ride into battle against Lord Zon - of course his life is in danger. So is mine!"
"No! You don't understand!" He shook his head. "Uthor won't live to see the battle. You must let me talk to him. I have something for him - a ring. It will help protect him."
A ring? A spikard, maybe? I remembered how mine had warned me against the assassin in Amber. It couldn't hurt, and it might further cement our alliance.
"All right," I said. "I'll present you to him when we get there."
"Good. Freda said you'd help," Aber went on. "She saw it in the cards."
"Not that again." I rolled my eyes. "I'm half minded to say no, just to prove to you once and for all that nothing is shown in her cards but what we make of it."
"She knew you'd say that. And she knew you'd let me through anyway, because you're playing
with the King of Chaos's life. Uthor won't be happy if he finds you're keeping things back from him.
Especially information that might save his life."
I sighed. He had a point.
"I already said I'd present you."
We were almost at the center of the camp. Here the press of Uthor's forces kept our pace slow and deliberate; several times we had to wait while wagons full of supplies trundled past.
Finally, though, we reached a series of huge pavilions. Aber and I dismounted and gave our horses' reins to waiting attendants. Flanked by Aslom and Haetor, we followed Nox past lines of guards standing rigidly at attention and into the central area, which had a throne and lines of supplicants waiting to consult with Uthor.
As soon as he spotted us, though, he motioned us forward. He looked old and tired suddenly.
Clearly the strain of his struggle against Lord Zon had begun to tell on him.
"Your arrival is most timely," he said. "Good. The dispatches from home are not promising. We must move swiftly."
"How soon?" I asked.
"Tomorrow."
I nodded slowly. "Very well. We are ready and will await your command."
Aber cleared his throat.
"Ah… my brother has a warning for you from my sister," I said. "She has some talent in future-telling."
"The Lady Freda?" He leaned forward, looking at Aber with interest. "Speak. She has a true gift, I know. Any warning she sends will be given proper weight."
Aber stepped forward and dropped to one knee before King Uthor. "Highness."
"Rise," said Uthor. He looked faintly pleased at Aber's obeisance.
"This is for you."
He pulled something from a pouch at his belt and held it out. I craned to see. It looked like an ancient gold ring, inscribed with characters I could not make out.
"What is this?"
"The Sign of Chaos."
It seemed to mean something to Uthor and the others around us. Uthor gasped. Everyone else shifted and muttered to themselves. Clearly they had heard of it. And clearly it meant something good.
"What is it?" I asked Nox in a quiet voice.
"An ancient signet," he said in a hushed, almost reverential voice. "It was lost centuries ago -
stolen by the Feynim. To have it back, most especially at this troubled time… it is a great omen!"
Grinning, Uthor stood and held the ring aloft for all to see. Then he turned the ring slowly, studying the characters engraved on side.
With a triumphant grin, he slipped it onto the index finger of his right hand. As he did, his face took on first a puzzled expression, then one of horror.
Suddenly his ring-finger turned black. The blackness spread rapidly up his arm and to his shoulder. When he opened his mouth to scream, no sound came out. His face, frozen in a horrible grimace, turned black as well.
I rushed forward to see if I could help, along with Nox and all the others. But nothing remained to be done. Uthor's whole body had turned to stone.
Off balance, like a statue shoved from its pedestal, King Uthor toppled forward. When he hit the hard-packed ground, his arms and head snapped off. The head rolled over and stopped at my feet, eyes staring blindly up at my face, as if accusing me of treason.
I swallowed hard and took a step back. The soldiers around me began to moan and cry out.
"He did it!" someone shouted, pointed at Aber.
"Me?" My brother folded his arms stubbornly. "You're crazy! The ring did it!"
"That's right," another soldier shouted. "He brought the ring!"
I stepped forward. "There's no proof my brother knew anything about it!" I said. "The ring might
have been poisoned long ago, or magics laid on it -"
"Murderer!" shouted Nox. He drew his sword, face livid.
I dropped my hand to the hilt of my own sword and gave a warning growl. "We are all friends here. We are bound by a treaty."
"Traitor!" another called. More swords left their sheaths. A shiver ran through me.
"You're wrong!" I said desperately. My brother might be a lot of things, but I couldn't believe he would kill King Uthor and me.
Aber stepped forward. "Let me speak!" he shouted. "Please, let me speak!"
The muttering around us died. I took a deep breath. This situation could still be saved. I just hoped Aber could convince Uthor's men of our innocense.
Already my thoughts turned through the possibilities. If they could be rallied under my flag… if I could lead them all against Lord Zon…
"I didn't know the ring would kill him," Aber said in a loud voice. "I'm just a messenger!"
"You have a message?" I asked, puzzled.
"That's right." He swallowed hard then looked me in the eye. "Lord Zon sends his greetings. Ta, brother."
With an apologetic shrug, he steppe
d back and disappeared in a sudden flash of light.
Twenty-Eight
I could only stand there, mouth open, stunned at what he'd just said and done. He had betrayed us. Betrayed me . I couldn't believe it - and yet everything started to fall into place.
How long had he been working for Lord Zon?
A long time, a little voice inside me said.
He must have been the one who let the assassin into my room in Juniper. And he must have been the one who betrayed the location of the first Pattern to King Uthor… All along, he had been working with both sets of our enemies.
A low upswell of voices began around me.
"Quiet!" I shouted. "We must -"
The muttering grew louder. Steel glinted and flashed as Uthor's men drew their weapons. I realized with a certainty I'd never felt before that they intended to have my head - along with my brother's. Only he'd had the sense to flee.
Trumpets sounded… not low, mournful notes as befitted a king's passing, but the sharp tat-tat, tat-tat of an alarm. Men began to shout and run for weapons. Uthor's men paused, looking around with mounting concern.
"Attack! Attack!" came the cries of sentries. " To arms!"
Someone screamed, "Watch for arrows!" as missiles started to rain down in our midst.
I seized the nearest shield from beside King Uthor's throne and raised it against the attack. A heartbeat later, two arrows pierced its thick hide with sounds like the savage thump-thump of a war-drum, their cruelly barbed tips coming to a halt less than an finger's width from my nose and right eye. Two of Uthor's lieutenants weren't so lucky - one caught an arrow in the eye, the other to his neck and chest. Both died instantly.
A distant voice shouted, " It's Swayvil! He's attacking! Swayvil is!" and a brief scream followed.
Forgetting me for the moment, Uthor's lieutenants ran to mount their defenses. They called orders, trying to rally their camp's defense. More arrows fell.
I glanced at Haetor and Aslom, who watched the skies warily and stayed as close to me as possible. They had their swords drawn and looked ready to defend themselves.
We had to get out of here fast. No matter who won the coming battle, I knew my men and I would not be welcome here.
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