“Ah! He has good taste in liquor, too, your brother.” be said.
I seated myself beside him and filled my pipe.
“After I told her I was sorry and introduced myself, we got to talking for a time,” he said. “As soon as she learned I was with you, she wanted to know all sorts of things about Amber and shadows and you and the rest of your family.”
“Did you tell her anything?” I said, striking a light.
“Couldn‘t have if I wanted to,” he said. “I had none of the answers.”
“Good.”
“It got me to thinking, though. I do not believe Benedict tells her too much, and I can see why. I would be careful what I say around her, Corwin. She seems over-curious.”
I nodded, puffing.
“There is a reason for it,” I said. “A very good reason. I am glad to know, though, that you keep your wits about you even when you have been drinking. Thanks for telling me.”
He shrugged and took a drink.
“A good bashing is a sobering thing. Also, your welfare is my welfare.”
“True. Does this version of Avalon meet with your approval?”
“Version? It is my Avalon,” he said. “A new generation of people is in the land, but it is the same place. I visited the Field of Thorns today, where I put down Jack Hailey‘s bunch in your service. It was the same place.”
“The Field of Thorns . . .” I said, remembering.
“Yes, this is my Avalon,” he continued, “and I‘ll be coming back here for my old age, if we live trough Amber.”
“You still want to come along?”
“All my life I‘ve wanted to see Amber—well, since I first heard of it. That was from you, in happier times.”
“I do not really remember what I said. It must have been a good telling.”
“We were both wonderfully drunk that night, and it seemed but a brief while that you talked—weeping some of the time—telling me of the mighty mountain Kolvir and the green and golden spires of the city, of the promenades, the decks, the terraces, the flowers, the fountains. . . . It seemed but a brief while, but it was most of the night—for before we staggered off to bed, the morning had begun. God! I could almost draw you a map of the place! I must see it before I die.”
“I do not remember that night,” I said slowly. “I must have been very, very drunk.”
He chuckled.
“We had some good times here in the old days,” he said. “And they do remember us here. But as people who lived very long ago—and they have many of the stories wrong. But hell! How many people get their stories right from day to day?”
I said nothing, smoking, thinking back.
“. . . All of which leads me to a question or two,” he said.
“Shoot.”
“Will your attack on Amber put you at great odds with your brother Benedict?”
“I really wish that I knew the answer to that one,” I said. “I think that it will, initially. But my move should be completed before he can reach Amber from here, in response to any distress call that goes out. That is, reach Amber with reinforcements. He could get there in no time at all, personally, if someone on the other end were helping. But that would serve little purpose. No. Rather than tear Amber apart, he will support whoever can hold it together, I am certain. Once I have ousted Eric, he will want the strife to stop right there and he will go along with my holding the throne, just to put an end to it. He will not really approve of the seizure in the first place, of course.”
“That is what I am getting at. Will there be bad blood between you afterward as a result of that?”
“I do not believe so. This is purely a matter of politics, and we have known one another most of our lives, he and I, and have always been on better terms with each other than either of us with Eric.”
“I see. Since you and I are in this together and Avalon seems to be Benedict‘s now, I was wondering what his feelings would be about my returning here one day. Would he hate me for having helped you?”
“I doubt that very much. He has never been that sort of person.”
“Then let me carry things a step further. God knows I am an experienced military man, and if we succeed in taking Amber he will have ample evidence of the fact, with his right arm injured the way that it is and all, do you think he might consider taking me on as a field commander for his militia? I know this area so well. I could take him to the Field of Thorns and describe that battle. Hell! I would serve him well—as well as I served you.”
He laughed then.
“Pardon me. Better than I served you.”
I chuckled, sipped my drink.
“It would be tricky,” I said. “Of course I like the idea. But I am not too certain that you could ever enjoy his trust. It would seem too obvious a ploy on my part.”
“Damn politics! That is not what I meant! Soldiering is all that I know, and I love Avalon!”
“I believe you. But would he?”
“With only one arm he will be needing a good man about. He could—”
I began to laugh and restrained myself quickly, for the sound of laughter seems to carry for a good distance. Also, Ganelon‘s feelings were involved.
“I am sorry,” I said. “Excuse me, please. You do not understand. You do not really understand who it was we talked with in the tent that night. He may have seemed an ordinary man to you—a handicapped one, at that. But this is not so. I fear Benedict. He is unlike any other being in Shadow or reality. He is the Master of Arms for Amber. Can you conceive of a millennium? A thousand years? Several of them? Can you understand a man who, for almost every day of a lifetime like that, has spent some time dwelling with weapons, tactics, strategies? Because you see him in a tiny kingdom, commanding a small militia, with a well-pruned orchard in his back yard, do not be deceived. All that there is of military science thunders in his head. He has often journeyed from shadow to shadow, witnessing variation after variation on the same battle, with but slightly altered circumstances, in order to test his theories of warfare. He has commanded armies so vast that you could watch them march by day after day and see no end to the columns. Although he is inconvenienced by the loss of his arm, I would not wish to fight with him either with weapons or barehanded. It is fortunate that he has no designs upon the throne, or he would be occupying it right now. If he were, I believe that I would give up at this moment and pay him homage. I fear Benedict.”
Ganelon was silent for a long while, and I took another drink, for my throat had become dry.
“I did not realize this, of course,” he said then. “I will be happy if he just lets me come back to Avalon.”
“That much he will do. I know.”
“Dara told me she had a message from him today. He has decided to cut short his stay in the field. He will probably be returning tomorrow.”
“Damn!” I said, standing. “We will have to move soon, then. I hope Doyle has that stuff ready. We must go to him in the morning and expedite matters. I want to be away from here before Benedict gets back!”
“You have the pretties then?”
“Yes.”
“May I see them?”
I undid the sack at my belt and passed it to him. He opened it and withdrew several stones, holding them in the palm of his left hand and turning them slowly with his fingertips.
“They do not look like much,” he said, “from what I can see of them in this light. Wait! There‘s a glimmer! No . . .”
“They are in the rough, of course. You are holding a fortune in your hands.”
“Amazing,” he said, dropping them back in the sack and refastening it. “It was so easy for you.”
“It was not all that easy.”
“Still, to gather a fortune so quickly seems somehow unfair.”
He passed it back.
“I will see that you are provided with a fortune when our labors are done,” I said. “That should prove some compensation, should Benedict not offer you a position.”
&
nbsp; “Now that I know who he is, I am more determined than ever to work for him one day.”
“We will see what can be done.”
“Yes. Thank you, Corwin. How shall we work our departure?”
“I want you to go and get some rest, for I will roust you out of bed early. Star and Firedrake will take unkindly to the notion of draft duty, I fear, but we will then borrow one of Benedict‘s wagons and head into town. Before this, I will try to arrange a good smoke screen here for our orderly withdrawal. We will then hurry Doyle the jeweler about his task, obtain our cargo, and depart into Shadow as quickly as possible. The greater our head start, the more difficult it will be for Benedict to track us. If I can get half a day‘s lead into Shadow, it will be practically impossible for him.”
“Why should he be so eager to come after us in the first place?”
“He does not trust me worth a damn—and justly so. He is waiting for me to make my move. He knows there is something I need here, but he does not know what. He wants to find out, so that he can seal off another threat to Amber. As soon as he realizes we have gone for good, he will know that we have it and he will come looking.”
Ganelon yawned, stretched, finished his drink.
“Yes,” he said then. “We‘d best rest now, to be in condition for the hurrying. Now that you have told me more about Benedict, I am less surprised by the other thing I meant to tell you—though no less discomfited.”
“That being . . . ?”
He rose to his feet, picked up the decanter carefully, then pointed down the path.
“If you continue on in that direction,” he said, “passing the hedge that marks the end of this bower and entering the woods that lie below—and then go on for another two hundred paces or so—you will come to a place where there is a little grove of saplings off to the left, standing in a sudden declivity perhaps four feet lower than the level of the trail itself. Down in it, stamped down and strewn over with leaves and twigs, there is a fresh grave. I found it while taking the air earlier, when I paused to relieve myself down there.”
“How do you know it is a grave?”
He chuckled.
“When holes have bodies in them that is how they are generally called. It was quite shallow, and I poked around a bit with a stick. There are four bodies in there—three men and a woman.”
“How recently dead?”
“Very. A few days. I‘d judge.”
“You left it as you found it?”
“I‘m not a fool, Corwin.”
“Sorry. But this troubles me considerably, because I don‘t understand it at all.”
“Obviously they gave Benedict some trouble and he returned the favor.”
“Perhaps. What were they like? How did they die?”
“Nothing special about them. They were in their middle years, and their throats had been cut—save for one fellow who got it in the guts.”
“Strange. Yes, it is good that we are leaving soon. We have enough problems of our own without getting involved in the local ones.”
“Agreed. So let us be off to bed.”
“You go ahead. I am not quite ready yet.”
“Take your own advice and get some rest,” he said, turning back toward the manor. “Don‘t sit up and worry.”
“I won‘t.”
“Good night, then.”
“See you in the morning.”
I watched him return along the path. He was right, of course, but I was not yet ready to surrender my consciousness. I went over my plans again, to be certain there was nothing I was overlooking, finished my drink and set the glass on the bench. I rose then and strolled, trailing wisps of tobacco smoke about me. There was a bit of moonlight from over my shoulder and dawn was still a few hours‘ distant, as I reckoned it. I was firm in my resolve to spend the rest of the night out of doors, and I thought to find me a good place to sack out.
Of course, I eventually wandered down the path and into the grove of saplings. A little poking around showed me that there had been some recent digging, but I was in no mood to exhume bodies by moonlight and was perfectly willing to take Ganelon‘s word as to what he had found there. I am not even certain why I went there. Morbid streak, I guess. I did decide against sleeping in the vicinity, though.
I made my way into the northwest corner of the garden, finding an area that was out of line of sight from the manor. There were high hedgerows and the grass was long, soft, and sweet-smelling. I spread my cloak, sat down upon it, and pulled off my boots. I put my feet down into the cool grass and sighed.
Not too much longer, I decided. Shadows to diamonds to guns to Amber. I was on my way. A year ago I had been rotting in a cell, crossing and recrossing the line between sanity and madness so many times that I had all but rubbed it out. Now I was free, strong, sighted, and had a plan. Now I was a threat seeking fulfillment once again, a deadlier threat than I had been previously. This time I did not have my fortunes tied up with the plans of another. Now I was responsible for my own success or failure.
The feeling was good, as was the grass, as was the alcohol which had now seeped through my system and warmed me with a pleasant flame. I cleaned my pipe, put it away, stretched, yawned, and was about to recline.
I detected a distant movement, propped myself on my elbows and watched for it again. I did not have long to wait. A figure was passing slowly along the path, pausing frequently, moving quietly. It vanished beneath the tree where Ganelon and I had been sitting, and did not emerge again for a long while. Then it continued on for several dozen paces, stopped and seemed to be staring in my direction. Then it advanced toward me.
Passing about a clump of shrubbery and emerging from the shadows, her face was suddenly touched by the moonlight. Apparently aware of this, she smiled in my direction, slowing as she came near, stopping when she stood before me.
She said, “I take it your quarters are not to your liking, Lord Corwin.”
“Not at all,” I said. “It is such a beautiful night that it appealed to the outdoorsman in me.”
“Something must have appealed to you last night, also,” she said, “despite the rain,” and she seated herself beside me on my cloak. “Did you sleep indoors or out?”
“I spent it out,” I said. “But I did not sleep. In fact, I have not slept since I saw you last.”
“Where have you been?”
“Down by the seaside, sifting sand.”
“Sounds depressing.”
“It was.”
“I have been doing a lot of thinking, since we walked in Shadow.”
“I would imagine.”
“I have not done too much sleeping either. That was why I heard you come in, heard you talking with Ganelon, knew you were out here somewhere when he came back alone.”
“You were right.”
“I must get to Amber, you know. And walk the Pattern.”
“I know. You will.”
“Soon, Corwin. Soon!”
“You are young, Dara. There is plenty of time.”
“Damn it! I have been waiting all my life—without even knowing about it! Is there no way I can go now?”
“No.”
“Why not? You could take me on a quick journey through shadows, take me to Amber, let me walk the Pattern...”
“If we are not slain immediately, we might be fortunate enough to be given adjoining cells for a time—or racks—before we are executed.”
“Whatever for? You are a Prince of the City. You have a right to do as you please.”
I laughed.
“I am an outlaw, dear. If I return to Amber I will be executed, if I am lucky. Or something much worse if I am not. But seeing as how things turned out last time, I should think they would kill me quickly. This courtesy would doubtless also be extended to my companions.”
“Oberon would not do such a thing.”
“Given sufficient provocation, I believe that he would. But the question does not really arise. Oberon is no more, and my brother Eric
sits on the throne and calls himself liege.”
“When did this occur?”
“Several years ago, as time is measured in Amber.”
“Why would he want to kill you?”
“To keep me from killing him, of course.”
“Would you?”
“Yes, and I will. Soon, too, I think.”
She turned to face me then.
“Why?”
“So that I can occupy the throne myself. It is rightly mine, you see. Eric has usurped it. I am just recently escaped from torture and several years‘ imprisonment at his hands. He made the mistake, however, of allowing himself the luxury of keeping me alive so that he could contemplate my wretchedness. He never thought that I would get free and return to challenge him again. Neither did I, for that matter. But since I have been fortunate enough to obtain a second chance, I shall be careful not to make the same mistake he did.”
“But he is your brother.”
“Few are more aware of that fact than he and I, I assure you.”
“How soon do you expect to accomplish—your objectives?”
“As I said the other day, if you can get hold of the Trumps, contact me in about three months. If you cannot, and things come about according to my plans, I will get in touch with you fairly early in my reign. You should have your chance to take the Pattern before another year passes.”
“And if you fail?”
“Then you will have a longer wait ahead of you. Until Eric has assured the permanency of his own reign, and until Benedict has acknowledged him king. You see, Benedict is not willing to do this. He has remained away from Amber for a long while, and for all Eric knows, he is no longer among the living. Should he put in an appearance now, he is going to have to take a position either for or against Eric. Should he come out for him, then the continuance of Eric‘s reign will be assured—and Benedict does not want to be responsible for that. Should he come out against him, there will be strife—and he does not want to be responsible for that either. He has no desire for the crown himself. Only by remaining out of the picture entirely can he assure the measure of tranquility that does prevail. Were he to appear and refuse to take either position, he could possibly get away with it, but it would be tantamount to denying Eric‘s kingship and would still lead to trouble. Were he to appear with you, he would be surrendering his will, for Eric would put pressure on him through you.”
The Chronicles of Amber Page 31