“In case you haven't noticed. I'm here. What did you want to tell me?”
“Patience, brother! Patience! Consider all the years you spent in Shadow, not even remembering-this.” He gestured widely with his cigarette. “Consider all that time you waited, unknowing, until I succeeded in locating you and tried to remedy your plight. Surely a few moments now are not so priceless by contrast.”
“I was told that you had sought me,” I said. “I wondered at that, for we had not exactly parted on the best of terms the last time we were together.”
He nodded.
“I cannot deny it,” he said. “But I always get over such things, eventually.”
I snorted.
“I have been deciding how much to tell you, and what you would believe,” he continued. “I doubted you would accept it if I had simply come out and said that, save for a few small items, my present motives are almost entirely altruistic.”
I snorted again.
“But this is true,” he went on, “and to lay your suspicions, I add that it is because I have small choice in it. Beginnings are always difficult. Wherever I begin, something preceded it. You were gone for so long. If one must name a single thing, however, then let it be the throne. There. I have said it. We had thought of a way to take it, you see. This was just after your disappearance, and in some ways, I suppose, prompted by it. Dad suspected Eric of having slain you. But there was no evidence. We worked on this feeling, though-a word here and there, every now and then. Years passed, with you unreachable by any means, and it seemed more and more likely that you were indeed dead. Dad looked upon Eric with growing disfavor. Then, one night, pursuant to a discussion I had begun on a totally neutral matter-most of us present at the table-he said that no fratricide would ever take the throne, and he was looking at Eric as he said it. You know how his eyes could get. Eric grew bright as a sunset and could not swallow for a long while. But then Dad took things much further than any of us had anticipated or desired. In fairness to you, I do not know whether he spoke solely to vent his feelings, or whether he actually meant what he said. But he told us that he had more than half decided upon you as his successor, so that he took whatever misadventure had befallen you quite personally. He would not have spoken of it, but that he was convinced as to your passing. In the months that followed, we reared you a cenotaph to give some solid form to this conclusion, and we made certain that no one forgot Dad's feelings toward Eric. All along, after yourself, Eric was the one we felt had to be gotten around to reach the throne.”
“We! Who were the others?”
“Patience, Corwin. Sequence and order, time and stress! Accent, emphasis... Listen.”
He took another cigarette, chain-lit it from the butt, stabbed the air with its burning tip.
“The next step required that we get Dad out of Amber. This was the most crucial and dangerous part of it, and it was here that we disagreed. I did not like the idea of an alliance with a power I did not fully understand, especially one that gave them some hold on us. Using shadows is one thing; allowing them to use you is ill-considered, whatever the circumstances. I argued against it, but the majority had it otherwise.” He smiled. “Two to one. Yes, there were three of us. We went ahead then. The trap was set and Dad went after the bait—”
“Is he still living?” I asked.
“I do not know,” Brand said. “Things went wrong afterward, and then I'd troubles of my own to concern me. After Dad's departure though, our next move was to consolidate our position while waiting a respectable period of time for a presumption of death to seem warranted. Ideally, all that we required was the cooperation of one person. Either Caine or Julian-it did not matter which. You see, Bleys had already gone off into Shadow and was in the process of putting together a large military farce—”
“Bleys! He was one of you?”
“Indeed. We intended him for the throne-with sufficient strings on him, of course, so that it would have amounted to a de facto triumvirate. So, he went off to assemble troops, as I was saying. We hoped for a bloodless takeover, but we had to be ready in the event that words proved insufficient to win our case. If Julian gave us the land route in, or Caine the waves, we could have transported the troops with dispatch and held the day by force of arms, should that have proven necessary. Unfortunately, I chose the wrong man. In my estimate. Caine was Julian's superior in matters of corruption. So, with measured delicacy I sounded him on the matter. He seemed willing to go along with things, at first. But he either reconsidered subsequently or deceived me quite skillfully from the beginning. Naturally, I prefer to believe that it was the former. Whatever, at some point he came to the conclusion that he stood to benefit more by supporting a rival claimant. To wit, Eric. Now Eric's hopes had been somewhat dashed by Dad's attitude toward him-but Dad was gone, and our intended move gave Eric the chance to act as defender of the throne. Unfortunately for us, such a position would also put him but a step away from the throne itself. To make matters darker, Julian went along with Caine in pledging the loyalty of his troops to Eric, as defender. Thus was the other trio formed. So Eric took a public oath to defend the throne, and the lines were thereby drawn. I was naturally in a somewhat embarrassing position at this time. I bore the brunt of their animosity, as they did not know who my fellows were. Yet they could not imprison or torture me, for I would immediately be trumped out of their hands. And if they were to kill me, they realized there might well be a reprisal by parties unknown. So it had to stand as a stalemate for a time. They also saw that I could no longer move directly against them. They kept me under heavy surveillance. So a more devious route was charted. Again I disagreed and again I lost, two to one. We were to employ the same forces we had called upon to deal with Dad, this time for purposes of discrediting Eric. If the job of defending Amber, so confidently assumed, were to prove too much for him and Bleys then came onto the scene and handled the situation with dispatch, why Bleys would even have popular support as he moved on to assume the role of defender himself and-after a fit period of time-suffered the thrusting of sovereignty upon him, for the good of Amber.”
“Question,” I interrupted. “What about Benedict? I know he was off being discontent in his Avalon, but if something really threatened Amber...”
“Yes,” he said, nodding, “and for that reason, a part of our deal was to involve Benedict with a number of problems of his own.”
I thought of the harassment of Benedict's Avalon by the hellmaids. I thought of the stump of his right arm. I opened my mouth to speak again, but Brand raised his hand.
“Let me finish in my own fashion, Corwin. I am not unmindful of your thought processes as you speak. I feel the pain in your side, twin to my own. Yes, I know these things and many more.”
His eyes burned strangely as he took another cigarette into his hand and it lit of its own accord. He drew heavily upon it and spoke as he exhaled.
“I broke with the others over this decision. I saw it as involving too great a peril, as placing Amber herself in jeopardy. Broke with them...”
He watched the smoke for several moments before he continued.
“But things were too far advanced that I might simply walk away. I had to oppose them, in order to defend myself as well as Amber. It was too late to swing over to Eric's side. He would not have protected me if he could have-and besides, I was certain he was going to lose. It was then that I decided to employ certain new abilities I had acquired. I had often wondered at the strange relationship between Eric and Flora, off on that shadow Earth she pretended so to enjoy. I had had a slight suspicion that there was something about that place which concerned him, and that she might be his agent there. While I could not get close enough to him to achieve any satisfaction on this count, I felt confident that it would not take too much in the way of investigation, direct and otherwise, to learn what Flora was about. And so I did. Then suddenly the pace accelerated. My own party was concerned as to my whereabouts. Then when I picked you up and shocked back a f
ew memories, Eric learned from Flora that something was suddenly quite amiss. Consequently, both sides were soon looking for me. I had decided that your return would throw everyone's plans out the window and get me out of the pocket I was in long enough to come up with an alternative to the way things were going. Eric's claim would be clouded once again, you would have had supporters of your own, my party would have lost the purpose for its entire maneuver and I had assumed you would not be ungrateful to me for my part in things. Them you went and escaped from Porter, and things really got complicated. All of us were looking for you, as I later learned, for different reasons. But my former associates had something very extra going for them. They learned what was happening, located you, and got there first. Obviously, there was a very simple way to preserve the status quo, where they would continue to hold the edge. Bleys fired the shots that put you and your car into the lake. I arrived just as this was occurring. He departed almost immediately, for it looked as if he had done a thorough job. I dragged you out, though, and there was enough left to start treating. It was frustrating now that I think back on it, not knowing whether the treatment had really been effective, whether you would awaken as Corwin or Corey. It was frustrating afterward, also, still not knowing... I hellrode out when help arrived. My associates caught up with me somewhat later and put me where you found me. Do you know the rest of the story?”
“Not all of it.”
“Then stop me whenever we've caught up on this. I only obtained it later, myself. Eric's crowd learned of the accident, got your location, and had you transferred to a private place. Where you could be better protected, and kept you heavily sedated, so that they could be protected.”
“Why should Eric protect me, especially if my presence was going to wreck his plans?”
“By then, seven of us knew you were still living. That was too many. It was simply too late to do what he would have liked to do. He was still trying to live down Dad's words. If anything had happened to you once you were in his power, it would have blocked his movement to the throne. If Benedict ever got word of it, or Gerard... No, he'd not have made it. Afterward, yes. Befare, no. What happened was that general knowledge of the fact of your existence forced his hand. He scheduled his coronation and resolved to keep you out of the way until it had occurred. An extremely premature bit of business, not that I see he had much of a choice. I guess you know what happened after that, since it happened to you.”
“I fell in with Bleys, just as he was making his move. Not too fortunate.” He shrugged.
“Oh, it might have been-if you had won, and if you had been able to do something about Bleys. You hadn't a chance, though, not really. My grasp of their motivations begins to dissolve at this point, but I believe that that entire assault really constituted some sort of feint.”
“Why?”
“As I said, I do not know. But they already had Eric Just about where they wanted him. It should not have been necessary to call that attack.”
I shook my head. Too much, too fast... Many of the facts sounded true, once I subtracted the narrator's bias. But still...
“I don't know...” I began.
“Of course,” he said. “But if you ask me I will tell you.”
“Who was the third member of your group?”
“The same person who stabbed me, of course. Would you care to venture a guess?”
“Just tell me.”
“Fiona. The whole thing was her idea.”
“Why didn't you tell me that right away?”
“Because you would not have sat still long enough to hear the rest of what I had to say. You would have dashed off to put her under restraint, discovered that she was gone, roused all the others, started an investigation, and wasted a lot of valuable time. You still may, but it at least provided me with your attention for a sufficient time for me to convince you that I know what I am about. Now, when I tell you that time is essential and that you must hear the rest of what I have to say as soon as possible-if Amber is to have any chance at all-you might listen rather than chase a crazy lady.”
I had already half risen from my chair.
“I shouldn't go after her?” I said.
“The hell with her, for now. You've got bigger problems. You had better sit down again.”
So I did.
CHAPTER 10
A raft of moonbeams... the ghostly torchlight, like fires in black-and-white films... stars... a few fine filaments of mist...
I leaned upon the rail, I looked across the world... Utter silence held the night, the dream-drenched city, the entire universe from here. Distant things-the sea, Amber, Arden, Gamath, the Lighthouse of Cabra, the Grove of the Unicorn, my tomb atop Kolvir... Silent, far below, yet clear, distinct... A god's eye view. I'd say, or that of a soul cut loose and drifting high... In the middle of the night...
I had come to the place where the ghosts play at being ghosts, where the omens, portents, signs, and animate desires thread the nightly avenues and palace high halls of Amber in the sky, Tir-na Nog'th...
Turning, my back to the rail and dayworld's vestiges below, I regarded the avenues and dark terraces, the halls of the lords, the quarters of the low... The moonlight is intense in Tir-na Nog'th, silvers over the facing sides of all our imaged places... Stick in hand, I passed forward, and the strangelings moved about me, appeared at windows, on balconies, on benches, at gates... Unseen I passed, for truly put, in this place I was the ghost to whatever their substance...
Silence and silver... Only the tapping of my stick, and that mostly muted... More mists adrift toward the heart of things... The palace a white bonfire of it... Dew, like drops of mercury on the finely sanded petals and stems in the gardens by the walks... The passing moon as painful to the eye as the sun at midday, the stars outshone, dimmed by it... Silver and silence... The shine...
I had not planned on coming, for its omens-if that they truly be-are deceitful, its similarities to the lives and places below unsettling, its spectacle often disconcerting. Still, I had come... A part of my bargain with time...
After I had left Brand to continue his recovery in the keeping of Gerard, I had realized that I required additional rest myself and sought to obtain it without betraying my disability. Fiona was indeed flown, and neither she nor Julian could be reached by means of the Trumps. Had I told Benedict and Gerard what Brand had told me, I was certain that they would have insisted we begin efforts at tracking her down, at tracking both of them. I was equally certain that such efforts would prove useless.
I had sent for Random and Ganelon and retired to my quarters, giving out that I intended to pass the day in rest and quiet thought in anticipation of spending the night in Tir-na Nog'th-reasonable behavior for any Amberite with a serious problem. I did not put much stock in the practice, but most of the others did. As it was the perfect time for me to be about such a thing, I felt that it would make my day's retirement believable. Of course, this obliged me to follow through on it that night. But this, too, was good. It gave me a day, a night, and part of the following day in which to heal sufficiently to carry my wound that much the better. I felt that it would be time well spent.
You've got to tell someone, though. I told Random and I told Ganelon. Propped in my bed, I told them of the plans of Brand, Fiona, and Bleys, and of the Eric-Julian-Caine cabal. I told them what Brand had said concerning my return and his own imprisonment by his fellow conspirators. They saw why the survivors of both factions-Fiona and Julian-had run off: doubtless to marshal their forces, hopefully to expend them on one another, but probably not. Not immediately, anyhow. More likely, one or the other would move to take Amber first.
“They will just have to take numbers and wait their turns, like everyone else,” Random had said.
“Not exactly,” I remembered saying. “Fiona's allies and the things that have been coming in on the black road are the same guys.”
“And the Circle in Lorraine?” Ganelon had asked.
“The same. That was how i
t manifested itself in that shadow. They came a great distance.”
“Ubiquitous bastards,” Random had said.
Nodding, I had tried to explain.
...And so I came to Tir-na Nog'th. When the moon rose and the apparition of Amber came faintly into the heavens, stars showing through it, pale halo about its towers, tiny flecks of movement upon its walls, I waited, waited with Ganelon and Random, waited on the highest crop of Kolvir, there where the three steps are fashioned, roughly, out of the stone...
When the moonlight touched them, the outline of the entire stairway began to take shape, spanning the great gulf to that point above the sea the vision city held. When the moonlight fell full upon it, the stair had taken as much of substance as it would ever possess, and I set my foot on the stone... Random held a full deck of Trumps and I'd mine within my jacket. Grayswandir, forged upon this very stone by moonlight, held power in the city in the sky, and so I bore my blade along. I had rested all day, and I held a staff to lean upon. Illusion of distance and time... The stairs through the Corwin-ignoring sky escalate somehow, for it is not a simple arithmetic progression up them once motion has commenced. I was here, I was there, I was a quarter of the way up before my shoulder had forgotten the clasp of Ganelon's hand... If I looked too hard at any portion of the stair, it lost its shimmering opacity and I saw the ocean far below as through a translucent lens... I lost track of time, though it seems it's never long, afterward... As far beneath the waves as I'd soon be above them, off to my right, glittering and curling, the outline of Rebma appeared within the sea. I thought of Moire, wondered how she fared. What would become of our deepwater double should Amber ever fall? Would the image remain unshattered in its mirror? Or would building blocks and bones be taken and shaken alike, dice in the deepwater casino canyons our fleets fly over? No answer in the man drowning, Corwin-confounding waters, though I felt a twinge in my side.
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