I uncovered another rough diamond, the sixteenth or so, and flipped it into the sack at my waist.
As I faced the setting sun, I wondered about Benedict, Julian, and Gerard. What was the connection? Whatever, I did not like any combination of interests which involved Julian. Gerard was all right. I had been able to sleep back at the camp when I had thought that it was he whom Benedict was contacting. If he was now allied with Julian, though, it was cause for increased uneasiness. If anyone hated me even more than Eric, it was Julian. If he knew where I was, then my danger was great. I was not yet ready for a confrontation.
I supposed Benedict could find a moral justification for selling me out at this point. After all, he knew that whatever I did — and he knew that I was going to do something — would result in strife in Amber. I could understand, even sympathize with, his feelings. He was dedicated to the preservation of the realm. Unlike Julian, he was a man of principle, and I regretted having to be at odds with him. My hope was that my coup would be as quick and painless as a tooth extraction under gas, and that we would be back on the same side again soon afterward. Having met Dara now, I also wanted it this way for her sake.
He had told me too little for comfort. I had no way of knowing whether he really intended to remain in the field the entire week, or whether he was even now cooperating with the forces of Amber in the laying of my trap, the walling of my prison, the digging of my grave. I had to hurry, though I longed to linger in Avalon.
I envied Ganelon, in whatever tavern or brothel he drank, whored, or fought, on whatever hillside he hunted. He had come home. Should I leave him to his pleasures, despite his offer to accompany me to Amber? But no, he would be questioned on my departure — used badly, if Julian had anything to do with it — and then become an outcast in what must seem his own land to him, if they let him go at all. Then he would doubtless become an outlaw again, and the third time would probably prove his undoing. No, I would keep my promise. He would come with me, if that was he still wanted. If he had changed his mind, well — I even envied him the prospect of outlawry in Avalon. I would have liked to remain longer, to ride with Dara in the hills, tramp about the countryside, sail upon the rivers…
I thought about the girl. The knowledge of her existence changed things somewhat. I was not certain how. Despite our major hatreds and petty animosities, we Amberites are a very family-conscious bunch, always eager for news of one another, desirous to know everyone’s position in the changing picture. A pause for gossip has doubtless stayed a few death blows among us. I sometimes think of us as a gang of mean little old ladies in a combination rest home and obstacle course.
I could not fit Dara into things yet because she did not know where she fit herself. Oh, she would learn eventually. She would receive superb tutelage once her existence became known. Now that I had brought her awareness of her uniqueness it would only be a matter of time before this occurred and she joined in the games. I had felt somewhat serpent-like at points during our conversation in the grove — but hell, she had a right to know. She was bound to find out sooner or later, and the sooner she did the sooner she could start shoring up her defenses. It was for her own benefit.
Of course, it was possible — even likely — that her mother and grandmother had lived their lives in ignorance of their heritage…
And where had it gotten them? They died violently, she had said.
Was it possible, I wondered, that the long arm of Amber had reached for them out of Shadow? And that it might strike again?
Benedict could be as tough and mean and nasty as any of us when he wanted to be. Tougher, even. He would fight to protect his own, doubtless even kill one of us if he thought it necessary. He must have assumed that keeping her existence a secret and keeping her ignorant would protect her. He would be angry with me when he found out what I had done, which was another reason for clearing out in a hurry. But I had not told her what I had out of sheer perverseness. I wanted her to survive, and I did not feel he was handling things properly. When I returned, she would have had time to think things over. She would have many questions and I would seize the opportunity to caution her at length and to give specifics.
I gnashed my teeth.
None of this should be necessary. When I ruled in Amber, things would be different. They had to be…
Why had no one ever come up with a way to change the basic nature of man? Even the erasure of all my memories and a new life in a new world had resulted in the same old Corwin. If I were not happy with what I was it could be a proposition worthy of despair.
In a quiet part of the river, I washed away the dust, the sweat, wondering the while about the black road which had so injured my brothers. There were many things that I needed to know.
As I bathed, Grayswandir was never far from my hand. One of us is capable of tracking another through Shadow, when the trail is still warm. As it was, my bath was undisturbed, though I used Grayswandir three times on the way back, on less mundane things than brothers.
But this was to be expected, as I had accelerated the pace considerably…
It was still dark, though dawn was not too far away, when I entered the stables at my brother’s manor. I tended Star, who had grown somewhat wild, talking to him and soothing him as I rubbed him down, then putting out a good supply of food and water. Ganelon’s Firedrake greeted me from the opposite stall. I cleaned up at the pump to the rear of the stable, trying to decide where I was going to catch a little sleep.
I needed some rest. A few hours’ worth would hold me for a time, but I refused to take them beneath Benedict’s roof. I would not be taken that easily, and while I had often said that I wanted to die in bed, what I really meant was that in my old age I wanted to be stepped on by an elephant while making love.
I was not averse to drinking his booze, though, and I wanted a belt of something strong. The manor was dark; I entered quietly and I found the sideboard.
I poured a stiff one, tossed it off, poured another, and carried it to the window. I could see for a great distance. The manor stood on a hillside and Benedict had landscaped the place well.
“‘White in the moon the long road lies,’” I recited, surprised at the sound of my own voice. “‘The moon stands blank above…’”
“So it does. So it does, Corwin my lad,” I heard Ganelon say.
“I didn’t see you sitting there,” I said softly, not turning from the window.
“That’s because I’m sitting so still,” he said.
“Oh,” I said. “How drunk are you?”
“Hardly at all,” he said, “now. But if you would care to be a good fellow and fetch me a drink…”
I turned.
“Why can’t you get your own?”
“It hurts to move.”
“All right.”
I went and poured him one, carried it to him. He raised it slowly, nodded his thanks, took a sip.
“Ah, that’s good!” he sighed. “May it numb things a bit.”
“You were in a fight,” I decided.
“Aye,” he said. “Several.”
“Then bear your wounds like a good trooper and let me save my sympathy.”
“But I won!”
“God! Where did you leave the bodies?”
“Oh, they are not that bad off. Twas a girl did this to me.”
“Then I’d say you got your money’s worth.”