The Chronicles of Amber

by Roger Zelazny

  “This thing with Dalt?” he asked.

  “No. This thing with you.”

  “Oh,” he said. “It’s over. I’ve done with it. No more bombs or ambushes. I’ve already told Merlin that.”

  “You’ve known him for several years?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve become friends?”

  “He’s one of the reasons I’m calling it off.”

  “You must trust him, to come here. I respect that,” she said. “Take this.”

  She removed a ring she wore upon her right forefinger. The band was of gold, the stone a milky green; the prongs of its setting caught it in a fashion to suggest some mantic spider guarding dreamland treasures against the daybreak world.

  “Your Majesty. . . . ”

  “Wear it,” she said.

  “I will,” he replied, slipping it upon the little finger of his left hand. “Thank you.”

  “Rise. I want you to know exactly what has occurred.”

  He got to his feet, and she began telling him what she had told me, concerning Dalt’s arrival, his forces’ disposition, his demands, while I stood stunned at the implications of what she had done. She had just placed Luke under her protection. Everyone in Amber knew that ring. I wondered what Random would think. I realized then that there would not be a hearing. Poor Bill. I believe he was really looking forward to arguing Luke’s case.

  “Yes, I know Dalt,” I heard him saying. “Once we shared . . . certain goals. But he’s changed. He tried to kill me the last time we met. I’m not sure why. At first I thought the wizard of the Keep had taken control of him.”

  “And now?”

  “Now, I just don’t understand. I’ve a feeling he’s on a leash, but I don’t know who holds it.”

  “Why not the wizard?”

  “It makes no sense to go to these lengths to claim me when he had me and let me go just a few days ago. He could simply have left me in my cell.”

  “True,” she replied. “What is this wizard’s name?”

  “Mask,” he answered. “Merlin knows more about him than I do.”

  “Merlin,” she said. “Who is this Mask?”

  “He’s the wizard who took the Keep of the Four Worlds away from Jasra,” I explained, “who, in turn, had taken it away from Shah Garrul, who is now also a coat-rack. Mask wears a blue mask and seems to draw power from a strange fountain in the citadel there. Doesn’t seem to like me much either. That’s about all I can tell you.”

  I’d omitted mentioning my plan to head that way for a showdown soon, because of Jurt’s involvement, for the same reason I hadn’t wanted Random to know about it. I was certain Luke had tossed me the question because he wasn’t sure how far I wanted it taken.

  “That doesn’t really tell us much,” she decided, “as to Dalt’s involvement.”

  “There may not be a connection,” I said. “I gather Dalt is a mercenary, and their relationship could have been a one-time thing. He could either be working for someone else now or pulling something on his own.”

  “I can’t see why anybody wants us badly enough to go to such dramatic lengths,” Luke said. “But I’ve a score to settle with that guy, and I’m going to combine business with pleasure.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “I assume there’s a way to get down there in a hurry,” he said.

  “One could always trump through to Julian,” I said, “but what have you got in mind, Luke?”

  “I want to talk to Dalt.”

  “It’s too dangerous,” she said, “since you’re what he wants.”

  Luke grinned. “It could be a bit dangerous for Dalt, too,” he replied.

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “If you’ve got more in mind than just talking, you could blow this truce. Vialle’s trying to avoid a conflict here.”

  “There won’t be any conflict,” Luke said. “Look, I’ve known Dalt since we were kids, and I think he’s bluffing. He does that sometimes. He hasn’t got the kind of force to risk another attack on Amber. Your guys would slaughter him. If he wants Mom or me, I think he’d be willing to tell me why, and that’s what we want to find out, isn’t it?”

  “Well, yes,” I said. “But—”

  “Let me go,” he said to Vialle, “and I’ll find a way to get him off your back. I promise.”

  “You tempt me,” she told him. “But I don’t like your talk of settling accounts with him at this time. As Merlin said, I want to avoid this conflict—for more than one reason.”

  “I promise not to let it go that far,” he stated. “I can read the dice. I’m good at playing things by ear. I’m willing to postpone gratification.”

  “Merlin . . . ?” she said.

  “He’s right, in that,” I answered. “He’s the deadliest salesman in the southwest.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand the concept.”

  “It’s a highly specialized art, back on that Shadow Earth we both inhabited. In fact, he’s using it on you right now.”

  “Do you think he can do what he says?”

  “I think he’s very good at getting what he wants.”

  “Exactly,” Luke observed. “And since we both want the same thing here, I think the future looks bright for all of us.”

  “I see what you mean,” she said. “How much danger would this put you near, Rinaldo?”

  “I’ll be as safe as I am right here in Amber,” he said.

  She smiled.

  “All right, I’ll speak to Julian,” she agreed, “and you can go to him and see what you can learn from Dalt.”

  “A moment,” I requested, “It’s been snowing on and off, and that’s a pretty nasty wind out there. Luke just came in from a more temperate clime, and it’s a pretty flimsy-looking cloak he has on. Let me get him something warmer. I’ve a nice heavy one he can take, if he finds it suitable.”

  “Go ahead,” she said.

  “We’ll be right back.”

  She pursed her lips, then nodded.

  I passed Luke his weapons belt and he buckled it on. I knew that she knew I just wanted to talk to him alone for a few minutes. And she was certainly aware that I knew it. And we both knew she trusted me, which brightens my existence, as well as complicating it.

  As we passed along the hallway toward my rooms, I’d intended to fill Luke in concerning the upcoming coronation in Kashfa, as well as a few other matters. I waited, however, till we were well away firm the sitting room, because Vialle has inordinately acute hearing. This, though, gave Luke a foot in the door, and he began to speak first.

  “What a strange, development,” he said. Then, “I like her, but I’ve a feeling she knows more than she’s telling.”

  “Probably true,” I answered. “I guess we’re all like that.”

  “You, too?”

  “These days, yes. It’s gotten that way.”

  “You know anything more about this situation that I should be aware of?”

  I shook my head. “This is very new, and she gave you the whole story I know. Would you, perchance, know something about it that we don’t?”

  “Nope,” he said. “It came as a surprise to me, too. But I’ve got to pursue it.”

  “I guess so.”

  We were nearing my stretch of corridor now, and I felt obliged to prepare him.

  “We’ll be to my rooms in a minute,” I said, “and I just wanted you to know your mother’s in there. She’s safe, but you won’t find her too talkative.”

  “I’m familiar with the results of that spell,” he said. “I also recall that you said you know how to lift it. So. That leads into the next topic. I’ve been thinking. This interlude is slowing us down a bit in our plan for going after Mask and your brother.”

  “Not all that much,” I responded.

  “We don’t really know how long this is going to take me, though,” he went on. “Supposing it drags out a bit? Or supposing something happens to really slow me down?”

  I gave him a quick
glance.

  “Like, what have you got in mind?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m just supposing. Okay? I like to plan ahead. Say we get delayed on this attack. . . . ”

  “All right. Say that,” I said, as we neared my door.

  “What I’m getting at,” he continued, “is, what if we get there too late? Supposing we arrive and your brother has already undergone the ritual that turns him into hell on wheels?”

  I unlocked my door, opened it, and held it for him. I did not like entertaining the possibility he had just described, because I recalled my father’s stories of the times he’d encountered Brand and faced that uncanny power.

  Luke stepped inside. I snapped my fingers and a number of oil lamps came to life, their flames dancing for a moment before settling to a glowing steadiness.

  Jasra was there in plain sight before him, holding a number of my garments on outstretched arms. I was concerned for a moment as to what his reaction might be.

  He halted, studying her, then advanced, his speculations concerning Jurt forgotten. He regarded her for perhaps ten seconds, and I found myself growing uncomfortable. Then he chuckled.

  “She always liked being decorative,” he said, “but to combine it with being useful was generally beyond her. You’ve got to hand it to Mask, even though she probably won’t catch the moral of it.”

  He turned away and faced me.

  “No, she’ll probably wake up mean as cat piss and looking for trouble,” he reflected. Then, “She doesn’t seem to be holding that cloak you mentioned.”

  “I’ll get it.”

  I moved to an armoire, opened it, and fetched out a dark fur one. As we traded, he ran his hand over it.

  “Manticore?” he asked.

  “Dire wolf,” I said.

  I hung his within and closed the door while he donned mine.

  “As I was saying when we came in here,” he offered, “supposing I don’t come back?”

  “You weren’t saying that,” I corrected.

  “Not in so many words,” he admitted. “But whether it’s a small delay or the big one, what difference does it make? The point is, what if Jurt goes through with the ritual and succeeds in obtaining the powers he’s after before we can do anything about it? And supposing I’m not around right then to give you a hand?”

  “That’s a lot of supposing.” I said.

  “That’s what separates us from the losers, man. Nice cloak.”

  He moved toward the door, glanced back at me, at Jasra.

  “Okay,” I said. “You go down there, Dalt cuts off your head and uses it for a football, then Jurt shows up ten feet tall and farting fire. I’m supposing. How does that separate us from the losers?”

  He stepped out into the hall. I followed him, snapping my fingers again, leaving Jasra to the darkness.

  “It’s a matter of knowing your options,” he told me, as I secured the door.

  I fell into step beside him as he headed back down the hall.

  “A person who acquires that kind of power also picks up a vulnerability, by way of its source,” he said.

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “Specifically, I don’t know,” he told me. “But the power in the Keep can be used against a person who is empowered by the Keep. I learned that much in Sharu’s notes. But Mom took them away before I read them all, and I never saw them again. Never trust—that’s her motto. I think.”

  “You’re saying . . . ?”

  “I’m saying that if something happens to me and he comes up a winner in this game, I believe she knows some special way of destroying him.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m also pretty sure that she’ll have to be asked very nicely.”

  “Somehow, I think I already knew that.”

  He gave a humorless chuckle.

  “So you tell her that I’ve ended the vendetta, that I’m satisfied, and then offer her the citadel in return for her help.”

  “What if she says that’s not enough?”

  “Hell! Turn her back into a coat-rack then! It’s not as if the guy can’t be killed. My dad still died with an arrow through his throat, despite his fancy powers. A death stroke is still a death stroke. It’s just that delivering it to a guy like that is a lot harder.”

  “You really think that’ll be enough?” I said.

  He halted and looked at me, frowning.

  “She’ll argue, but of course she’ll agree,” he said. “It’ll be a step up in the world. And she’ll want revenge on Mask as much as that piece of her former holdings. But to answer your question, don’t trust her. No matter what she promises, she’ll never be happy with less than she had before. She’ll be scheming. She’ll be a good ally till the job’s done. Then you’ve got to think about protecting yourself against her. Unless . . . ”

  “Unless what?”

  “Unless I come up with something to sweeten the pot.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know yet. But don’t lift that spell until things are definitely settled between Dalt and me. Okay?”

  He resumed walking.

  “Wait a minute,” I said “What are you planning?”

  “Nothing special,” he answered. “Like I told the queen, I’m just going to play things by ear.”

  “I sometimes get the feeling you’re as devious as you make her out to be,” I said.

  “I hope so,” he replied. “But there’s a difference. I’m honest.”

  “I don’t know that I’d buy a used car from you, Luke.”

  “Every deal I make is special,” he said, “and for you it’s always top of the line.”

  I glanced at him, saw that he kept his expression under control.

  “What else can I say?” he added, indicating the sitting room with a quick gesture.

  “Nothing, now,” I answered, and we entered there.

  Vialle turned her head in our direction as we came in, hr expression as unreadable as Luke’s.

  “I take it you are properly attired now?” she asked.

  “I am indeed,” he answered.

  “Then let’s be about this,” she said, raising her left hand, which I saw to contain a Trump. “Come over here, please.”

  Luke approached her and I followed him. I could see then that it was Julian’s Trump that she held.

  “Place your hand upon my shoulder,” she told him.

  “All right.”

  He did, and she reached, found Julian and began speaking to him. Shortly, Luke was party to the conversation, explaining what he intended to do. I overheard Vialle saying that the plan had her approval.

  Moments later I saw Luke raise his free hand and extend it. I also saw the shadowy figure of Julian reaching forward, though I was not part of the Trump nexus. This was because I had summoned my Logrus Sight and had become sensitive to such things. I needed it for the timing, not wanting Luke whisked away before I could move.

  I let my hand fall upon his shoulder and I moved forward as he did.

  “Merlin! What are you doing?” I heard Vialle call.

  “I’d like to see what happens,” I said. “I’ll come right home when things are concluded,” and the rainbow gate closed behind me.

  We stood within the flickering of oil lamps inside a large tent. From outside, I could hear the wind and the sounds of stirring branches. Julian stood facing us. He let Luke’s hand fall and regarded him without expression.

  “So you are Caine’s killer,” he said.

  “I am,” Luke replied.

  And I was remembering that Caine and Julian had always been particularly close. If Julian were to kill Luke and cry vendetta, I was certain that Random would merely nod and agree. Perhaps he’d even smile. Hard to say. If I were Random, I would greet Luke’s removal with a sight of relief. In fact, that was one of the reasons I’d come along. Supposing this whole deal were a setup? I couldn’t picture Vialle as a part of it, but she could easily have been deceived by Julian and Benedict. Su
pposing Dalt wasn’t even out there?

  Or suppose he were—and that what he’d really asked for was Luke’s head? After all, he had tried to kill Luke fairly recently. I had to admit the possibility now, and I also had to admit that Julian was the most likely candidate to be a willing party to such a design. For the good of Amber.

  Julian’s gaze met mine, and I wore as affectless a mask as his own.

  “Good evening, Merlin,” he said. “Do you have a special part in this plan?”

  “I’m an observer,” I answered. “Anything else I may do will be dictated by circumstance.”

  From somewhere outside I heard the growling of a hellhound.

  “So long as you keep out of the way,” Julian said.

  I smiled.

  “Sorcerers have special ways of avoiding notice,” I replied.

  He studied me again, wondering, I am certain, whether that involved some sort of threat—to defend Luke or avenge him.

  Then he shrugged and turned away to where a small table held an unrolled map, weighted in place with a rock and a dagger. He indicated that Luke should join him there, and I followed when he did.

  It was a map of the western fringe of Arden, and he pointed out our position on it. Garnath lay to our south-southwest, Amber to the southeast.

  “Our troops are situated here;” he said, with a movement of his finger. “And Dalt’s are here.” He described another line, roughly paralleling our own.

  “What about Benedict’s force?” I inquired.

  He glanced at me, showing the slightest of frowns.

  “It is good for Luke to know that there is such a force,” he stated, “but not its size, location, or objective. That way, if Dalt were to capture and question him, he’d have a lot to worry about and nothing to act upon.”

  Luke nodded. “Good idea,” he said.

  Julian pointed again, to a spot midway between the lines. “This is the place where I met with him when we spoke earlier,” he explained. “It is a clear, level area, in view of both sides during daylight. I’d suggest we use it again, for your meeting.”

  “All right,” Luke said, and I noticed that as he spoke, Julian’s fingertips caressed the handle of the dagger that lay before him. Then I saw that Luke’s right hand, in casual movement, had come to rest upon his belt, slightly to the left and near to his own dagger.