I was afraid that I could not.
In a fit of passion, compounded of rage, horror, and pain, I had unleashed this thing, and it was reflected somewhere in every earth in existence. Such is the blood curse of a Prince of Amber.
We watched them all that night, the Wardens of the Circle, and in the morning we departed.
The verdict was, attack!
So we rode all the way back and nothing followed us. When we reached the Keep of Ganelon, we fell to planning. Our troops were ready-over-ready, perhaps — and we decided to strike within a fortnight.
As I lay with Lorraine, I told her of these things. For I felt that she should know. I possessed the power to spirit her away into Shadow — that very night, if she would agree. She did not.
“I’ll stay with you,” she said.
“Okay.”
I did not tell her that I felt everything lay within my hands, but I have a feeling she knew and that for some reason she trusted me. I would not have, but that was her affair.
“You know how things might be,” I said.
“I know,” she said, and I knew that she knew and that was it.
We turned our attention to other subjects, and later we slept.
She’d had a dream.
In the morning, she said to me, “I had a dream.”
“What about?” I asked.
“The coming battle,” she told me. “I see you and the horned one locked in combat.”
“Who wins?”
“I don’t know. But as you slept, I did a thing that might help you.”
“I wish you had not,” I said. “I can take care of myself.”
“Then I dreamed of my own death, in this time.”
“Let me take you away to a place I know.”
“No, my place is here,” she told me.
“I don’t pretend to own you,” I said, “but I can save you from whatever you’ve dreamed. That much lies within my power, believe me.”
“I do believe you, but I will not go.”
“You’re a damned fool.”
“Let me stay.”
“As you wish… Listen, I’ll even send you to Cabra…”
“No.”
“You’re a damned fool.”
“I know. I love you.”
“…And a stupid one. The word is ‘like.’ Remember?”
“You’ll do it,” she said.
“Go to hell,” I said.
Then she wept, softly, until I comforted her once again.
That was Lorraine.
Chapter 3
I thought back, one morning, upon all that had gone before. I thought of my brothers and sisters as though they were playing cards, which I knew was wrong. I thought back to the rest home where I had awakened, back to the battle for Amber, back to my walking the Pattern in Rebma, and back to that time with Moire, who just might be Eric’s by now. I thought of Bleys and of Random, Deirdre, Caine, Gerard, and Eric, that morning. It was the morning of the battle, of course, and we were camped in the hills near the Circle. We had been attacked several times along the way, but they had been brief, guerrilla affairs. We had dispatched our assailants and continued. When we reached the area we had decided upon, we made our camp, posted guards, and retired. We slept undisturbed. I awoke wondering whether my brothers and sisters thought of me as I thought of them. It was a very sad thought.
In the privacy of a small grove, my helmet filled with soapy water, I shaved my beard. Then I dressed, slowly, in my private and tattered colors. I was as hard as stone, dark as soil, and mean as hell once more.
Today would be the day. I donned my visor, put on chain mail, buckled my belt, and hung Grayswandir at my side. Then I fastened my cloak at my neck with a silver rose and was discovered by a messenger who had been looking for me to tell me that things were about ready.
I kissed Lorraine, who had insisted on coming along. Then I mounted my horse, a roan named Star, and rode off toward the front.
There I met with Ganelon and with Lance. They said, “We are ready.”
I called for my officers and briefed them. They saluted, turned and rode away. “Soon,” said Lance, lighting his pipe.
“How is your arm?”
“Fine, now,” he replied, “after that workout you gave it yesterday. Perfect.” I opened my visor and lit my own pipe.
“You’ve shaved your beard,” said Lance. “I cannot picture you without it.”
“The helm fits better this way,” I said.
“Good fortune to us all,” said Ganelon. “I know no gods, but if any care to be with us, I welcome them.”
“There is but one God,” said Lance. “I pray that He be with us.”
“Amen,” said Ganelon, lighting his pipe. “For today.”
“It will be ours,” said Lance.
“Yes,” said I, as the sun stirred the east and the birds of morning the air, “it has that feel to it.” We emptied our pipes when we had finished and tucked them away at our belts. Then we secured ourselves with final tightenings and claspings of our armor and Ganelon said, “Let us be about it.”
My officers reported back to me. My sections were ready.
We filed down the hillside, and we assembled outside the Circle. Nothing stirred within it, and no troops were visible.
“I wonder about Corwin,” Ganelon said to me.
“He is with us,” I told him, and he looked at me strangely, seemed to notice the rose for the first time, then nodded brusquely.
“Lance,” he said, when we had assembled. “Give the order.”
And Lance drew his blade. His cried “Charge!” echoed about us.
We were half a mile inside the Circle before anything happened. There were five hundred of us in the lead, all mounted. A dark cavalry appeared, and we met them. After five minutes, they broke and we rode on. Then we heard the thunder.
There was lightning, and the rain began to fall.
The thunderhead had finally broken.
A thin line of foot soldiers, pikemen mainly, barred our way, waiting stoically. Maybe we all smelled the trap, but we bore down upon them. Then the cavalry hit our flanks.
We wheeled, and the fighting began in earnest. It was perhaps twenty minutes later… We held out, waiting for the main body to arrive. Then the two hundred or so of us rode on…
Men. It was men that we slew, that slew us — grayfaced, dour-countenanced men. I wanted more. One more…
Theirs must have been a semi-metaphysical problem in logistics. How much could be diverted through this Gateway? I was not sure. Soon…
We topped a rise, and far ahead and below us lay a dark citadel.
I raised my blade.
As we descended, they attacked.
They hissed and they croaked and they flapped. That meant, to me, that he was running low on people. Grayswandir became a flame in my hand, a thunderbolt, a portable electric chair. I slew them as fast as they approached, and they burned as they died. To my right, I saw Lance draw a similar line of chaos, and he was muttering beneath his breath. Prayers for the dead, no doubt. To my left, Ganelon laid about him, and a wake of fires followed behind his horse’s tail. Through the flashing lightning, the citadel loomed larger.
The hundred or so of us stormed ahead, and the abominations fell by the wayside.
When we reached the gate, we were faced by an infantry of men and beasts. We charged.
They outnumbered us, but we had little choice. Perhaps we had proceeded our own infantry by too much. But I thought not. Time, as I saw it, was all important now.
“I’ve got to get through!” I cried. “He’s inside!”
“He’s mine!” said Lance.
“You’re both welcome to him!” said Ganelon, laying about him. “Cross when you can! I’m with you!”
We slew and we slew and we slew, and then the tide turned in their favor. They pressed us, all the ugly things that were more or less than human, mixed in with human troops. We were drawn up into a tight knot, defending ourselves on all sides, when our bedraggled infantry arrived and began hacking. We pressed for the gate once more and made it this time, all forty or fifty of us.