The Chronicles of Amber

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The Chronicles of Amber Page 7

by Roger Zelazny


  I began to drive, I could see the dogs milling around. Morgenstern began cantering along after the car.

  “I’m afraid I won’t be worth much to you as a prisoner,” Julian observed. ”Although you will torture me, I can only tell you what I know, and that isn’t much.”

  “Start with that then,” I said.

  “Eric looks to have the strongest position,” he told us, “having been right there in Amber when the whole thing broke loose. At least this is the way I saw it, so I offered him my support. Had it been one of you, I’d probably have done the same thing. Eric charged me with keeping guard in Arden, since it’s one of the main routes. Gerard controls the southern seaways, and Caine is off in the northern waters.”

  “What of Benedict?” Random asked.

  ”I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything. He might be with Bleys. He might be off somewhere else in Shadow and not even have heard of this thing yet. He might even be dead. It’s been years since we’ve heard from him.”

  “How many men have you got in Arden,” asked Random.

  “Over a thousand,” he said. “Some are probably watching you right now.”

  “And if they want you to go on living, that’s all they’ll do,” said Random.

  “You are doubtless correct,” he replied. “I have to admit, Corwin did a shrewd thing in taking me prisoner rather than killing me. You just might make it through the forest this way.”

  “You’re just saying that because you want to live,” said Random.

  “Of course I want to live. May I?”

  “Why?”

  “In payment for the information I’ve given you.”

  Random laughed.

  “You’ve given us very little, and I’m sure more can be torn from you. We’ll see, as soon as we get a chance to stop. Eh, Corwin?”

  “We’ll see,” I said. “Where’s Fiona?”

  “Somewhere to the south, I think,” Julian replied.

  “How about Deirdre?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Llewella?”

  “In Rebma.”

  “Okay,” I said, “I think you’ve told me everything you know.”

  “I have.”

  We drove on in silence, and finally the forest began to thin. I’d lost sight of Morgenstern long ago, though I sometimes saw Julian’s falcon pacing us. The road took a turn upward, and we were heading toward a pass between two purple mountains. The gas tank was a little better than a quarter full. Within an hour, we were passing between high shoulders of stone.

  “This would be a good place to set up a road block,” said Random.

  “That sounds likely,” I said. “What about it, Julian?”

  He sighed.

  “Yes.” he agreed, “you should be coming upon one very soon. You know how to get by it.”

  We did. When we came to the gate, and the guard in green and brown leather, sword unsheathed, advanced upon us, I jerked my thumb toward the back seat and said, “Get the picture?”

  He did, and he recognized us, also.

  He hastened to raise the gate, and he saluted us as we passed by.

  There were two more gates before we made it through the pass, and somewhere along the way it appeared we had lost the hawk. We had gained several thousand feet in elevation now, and I braked the car on a road that crawled along the face of a cliff. To our right hand, there was nothing other than a long way down.

  “Get out,” I said. “You’re going to take a walk.”

  Julian paled.

  “I won’t grovel,” he said. “I won’t beg you for my life.” And he got out.

  “Hell,” I said. “I haven’t had a good grovel in weeks! Well . . . go stand by the edge there. A little closer please.” And Random kept his pistol aimed at his head. “A while back.” I told him, “you said that you would probably have supported anyone who occupied Eric’s position.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Look down.”

  He did. It was along way.

  “Okay.” I said, “remember that, should things undergo a sudden change. And remember who it was who gave you your life where another would have taken it.

  “Come on, Random. Let’s get moving.”

  We left him standing there, breathing heavily, his brows woven together.

  We reached the top and were almost out of gas. I put it in neutral, killed the engine, and began the long roll down.

  “I’ve been thinking,” said Random; “you’ve lost none of your old guile. I’d probably have killed him, myself, for what he tried. But I think you did the right thing. I think he will throw us his support, if we can get an edge on Eric. In the meantime, of course, he’ll report what happened to Eric.”

  “Of course,” I said.

  “And you have more reason to want him dead than any of us.”

  I smiled.

  “Personal feelings don’t make for good politics, legal decisions, or business deals.”

  Random lit two cigarettes and handed me one.

  Staring downward through the smoke, I caught my first glimpse of that sea. Beneath the deep blue, almost night-time sky, with that golden sun hanging up there in it, the sea was so rich—thick as paint, textured like a piece of cloth, of royal blue, almost purple—that it troubled me to look upon it. I found myself speaking in a language that I hadn’t realized I knew. I was reciting “The Ballad of the Water-Crossers,” and Random listened until I had finished and asked me, ”It has often been said that you composed that. Is it true?”

  “It’s been so long,” I told him, “that I don’t really remember any more.”

  And as the cliff curved further and further to the left, and as we swung downward across its face, heading toward a wooded valley, more and more of the sea came within our range of vision.

  “The Lighthouse of Cabra,” said Random, gesturing toward an enormous gray tower that rose from the waters, miles out to sea. “I had all but forgotten it.”

  “And I,” I replied. “It is a very strange feeling, coming back,” and I realized then that we were no longer speaking English, but the language called Thari.

  After almost half an hour, we reached the bottom. I kept coasting for as far as I could, then turned on the engine. At its sound, a flock of dark birds heat its way into the air from the shrubbery off to the left. Something gray and wolfish-looking broke from cover and dashed toward a nearby thicket; the deer it had been stalking, invisible till then, bounded away. We were in a lush valley, though not so thickly or massively wooded as the

  Forest of Arden, which sloped gently but steadily toward the distant sea.

  High, and climbing higher on the left, the mountains reared. The further we advanced into the valley, the better came our view of the nature and full extent of that massive height of rock down one of whose lesser slopes we had coasted. The mountains continued their march to the sea, growing larger as they did so, and taking upon their shoulders a shifting mantle tinged with green, mauve, purple, gold, and indigo. The face they turned to the sea was invisible to us from the valley, but about the back of that final, highest peak swirled the faintest veil of ghost clouds, and occasionally the golden sun touched it with fire. I judged we were about thirty-five miles from the place of light, and the fuel gauge read near empty. I knew that the final peak was our destination. and an eagerness began to grow up within me. Random was staring in the same direction.

  “It’s still there,” I remarked.

  “I’d almost forgotten,” he said.

  And as I shifted gears, I noticed that my trousers had taken on a certain sheen which they had not possessed before. Also, they were tapered considerably as they reached toward my ankles, and I noted that my cuffs had vanished. Then I noticed my shirt.

  It was more like a jacket. and it was black and trimmed with silver; and my belt had widened considerably.

  On closer inspection, I saw that there was a silver line down the outer seams of my pants legs.

  “I find myself
garbed effectively,” I observed, to see what that wrought.

  Random chuckled, and I saw then that he had some where acquired brown trousers streaked with red and a shirt of orange and brown. A brown cap with a yellow border rested on the Seat beside him.

  “I was wondering when you’d notice,” he said. “How do you feel?”

  “Quite good,” I told him, “and by the way, we’re almost out of gas.”

  “Too late to do much about that,” he said. “We are now in the real world, and it would be a horrible effort to play with Shadows. Also, it would not go unnoticed. I’m afraid we’ll have to hoof it when this gives out.”

  It gave out two and a half miles later. I coasted off to the side of the road and stopped. The sun by now was westering farewell, and the shadows had grown long Indeed.

  I reached into the back seat, where my shoe’s had become black boots, and something rattled as my hand groped after them. I drew forth a moderately heavy silver sword and scabbard. The scabbard fit my belt perfectly. There was also a black cloak, with a clasp like a silver rose.

  “Had you thought them lost forever?” asked Random.

  “Damn near.” said I.

  We climbed out of the car and began walking. The evening was cool and briskly fragrant. There were stars in the east already, and the sun was diving toward its bed.

  We trudged along the road, and Random said:

  “I don’t feel right about this.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Things have gone too easily, thus far,” he told me. “I don’t like it. We made it all the way through to the Forest of Arden with barely a hitch. True, Julian tried to take care of us there—but I don’t know. . . We’ve made it so very far so readily that I’d almost suspect we were permitted to do it.”

  “This thought has also crossed my mind,” I lied. “What do you think it portends?”

  “I fear,” said he, “that we are walking into a trap.”

  We walked on for several minutes in silence.

  Then “Ambush?” said I. “These woods seem strangely still.”

  “I don’t know.”

  We made maybe two miles, and then the sun was gone. The night was black and studded with brilliant stars.

  “This is no way for two such as we to move,” Random said.

  “True.”

  “Yet I fear to fetch us steeds.”

  “And I, also.”

  “What is your assessment of the situation?” Random asked.

  “Death and dreck,” said I. “I feel they may be upon us soon.”

  “Do you think we should abandon the roadway?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it,” I lied again, “and I don’t see that it would hurt any for us to walk off to the side a bit.”

  So we did.

  We passed among trees, we moved past the dark shapes of rocks and bushes. And the moon slowly rose, big, of silver, and lighting up the night.

  “I am taken by this feeling that we cannot do it,” Random told me.

  “And what reliance can we give this feeling?” I asked.

  “Much.”

  “Why?”

  “Too far and too fast,” he responded. “I don’t like it at all. Now we’re in the real world, it is too late to turn back. We cannot play with Shadows, but must rely on our blades.” (He wore a short, burnished one himself.) “I feel, therefore. that it is perhaps Eric’s will that we have advanced to this point. There is nothing much to do about it now, but now we’re here, I wish we’d had to battle for every inch of the way.

  We continued for another mile and paused for cigarettes, which we held cupped in our hands.

  “It’s a lovely night,” I said, to Random and the cool breeze. “I suppose.... What was that?”

  There was a soft rustling of shrubbery a bit of a way behind us.

  “Some animal, maybe.”

  His blade was in his band.

  We waited, several minutes, but nothing more was heard.

  So he sheathed it and we started walking again.

  There were no more sounds from behind us, but after a time I heard something from up ahead.

  He nodded when I glanced at him, and we began to move more cautiously.

  There was a soft glow, as from a campfire, away, far, in the distance.

  We heard no more sounds, but his shrug showed acquiescence to my gesture as I headed toward it, into the woods, to the right.

  It was the better part of an hour before we struck the camp. There were four men seated about the fire and two sleeping off in the shadows. The girl who was bound to a stake had her head turned away from us, but I felt my heart quicken as I looked upon her form.

  “Could that be ...?” I whispered.

  “Yes.” he replied. “I think it may.”

  Then she turned her head and I knew it was.

  “Deirdre!”

  “I wonder what the bitch has been up to?” Random said. “From those guys’ colors, I’d venture they’re taking her back to Amber.”

  I saw that they wore black, red, and silver, which I remembered from the Trumps and from somewhere else to be the colors of Eric.

  “Since Eric wants her, he can’t have her,” I said.

  “I never much cared for Deirdre,” Random said, “but I know you do, so..” and he unsheathed his blade.

  I did the same. “Get ready,” I told him, rising into a crouch. And we rushed them. Maybe two minutes, that’s about what it took,

  She was watching us by then, the firelight making her face into a twisted mask. She cried and laughed and said our names, in a loud and frightened voice, and I slashed her bonds and helped her to her feet.

  “Greetings, sister. Will you join us on the Road to Amber?”

  “No,” she said. “Thanks for my life, but I want to keep it. Why do you walk to Amber, as if I didn’t know.”

  “There is a throne to be won,” said Random, which was news to me. “and we are interested parties.”

  “If you’re smart, you’ll stay away and live longer,” she said. and God! she was lovely, though a bit tired-looking and dirty.

  I took her into my arms because I wanted to, and squeezed her. Random found a skin of wine and we all had a drink.

  “Eric is the only Prince in Amber,” she said, “and the troops are loyal to him.”

  “I’m not afraid of Eric,” I replied, and I knew I wasn’t certain about that statement.

  “He’ll never let you into Amber,” she said. “I was a prisoner myself, till I made it out one of the secret ways two days ago. I thought I could walk in Shadows till all things were done, but it is not easy to begin this close to the real place. So his troops found me this morning. They were taking me back. I think he might have killed me, had I been returned—though I’m not sure. At any rate, I’d have remained a puppet in the city. I think Eric may be mad, but again, I’m not sure.”

  “What of Bleys?” Random inquired.

  “He sends things out of the Shadows, and Eric is greatly disturbed. But he has never attacked with his real force, and so Eric is troubled, and the disposition of the Crown and Scepter remains uncertain, though Eric holds the one in his right hand.”

  “I see. Has he ever spoken of us?”

  “Not of you, Random. But of Corwin, yes. He still fears the return of Corwin to Amber. There is relative safety for perhaps five more miles—but beyond that, every step of the way is studded with peril. Every tree and rock is a booby trap and an ambush. Because of Bleys and because of Corwin. He wanted you to get at least this far, so that you could not work with Shadows nor easily escape his power. It is absolutely impossible for either of you to enter into Amber without falling into one of his traps.”

  “Yet you escaped....”

  “That was different. I was trying to get out, not in. Perhaps he did not guard me so carefully as he would one of you, because of my sex and my lack of ambition. And nevertheless, as you can see, I did not succeed.”

  “You have now, s
ister,” I said, “so long as my blade is free to swing on your behalf,” and she kissed my brow and squeezed my hand. I was always a sucker for that.

  “I’m sure we’re being followed,” said Random, and with a gesture the three of us faded into the darkness.

  We lay still beneath a bush, keeping watch on our trail.

  After a time, our whispers indicated that there was a decision for me to make. The question was really quite simple: What next?

  The question was too basic, and I couldn’t stall any more. I knew I couldn’t trust them, even dear Deirdre, but if I had to level with anybody, Random was at least in this thing with me, up to his neck, and Deirdre was my favorite.

  “Beloved relatives,” I told them, “I’ve a confession to make,” and Random’s hand was already on the hilt of his blade. That’s how far we could trust one another. I could already hear his mind clicking: Corwin brought me here to betray me, he was saying to himself.

  “If you brought me here to betray me,” be said, “you won’t take me back alive.”

  “Are you kidding?” I asked. “I want your help, not your head. What I have to say is just this: I don’t know what the hell’s going on. I’ve made some guesses, but I don’t really know where the devil we are, what Amber is, or why we’re crouched here in the bushes hiding from his troops,” I told him, “or for that matter, who I am, really.”

  There was an awfully long silence, and then Random whispered, “What do you mean?”

  “Yes,” said Deirdre.

  “I mean,” I said, “that I managed to fool you, Random. Didn’t you think it strange that all I did on this trip was drive the car?”

  “You were the boss,” he told me, “and I figured you were planning. You did some pretty shrewd things along the way. I know that you’re Corwin.”

  “Which is a thing I only found out a couple of days ago, myself,” I said. “I know that I am the one you call Corwin, but I was in an accident a while back. I had head injuries—I’ll show you the scars when we’ve got more light—and I am suffering from amnesia. I don’t dig all this talk about Shadows. I don’t even remember much about Amber. All I remember is my relatives, and the fact that I can’t trust them much. That’s my story. What’s to be done about it?”

  “Christ!” said Random. “Yes, I can see it now! I understand all the little things that puzzled me along the way. How did you take Flora in so completely?”

 

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