The hand of Oberon (12 page)

I smiled and moved toward the door.

“I will, too,” I said, “by doing things my way. I will keep your suggestion on file.”

“Your way is going to get you dead. Sooner than you think.”

“I am standing on your rug again,” I said.

He laughed.

“Very good. But I was not threatening you. You know what I meant. You are responsible for all of Amber now. You have to do the right thing.”

“And you know what I meant. I am not going to kill a couple more of us because of your suspicions. I would need more than that.”

“When you get it, it may be too late.”

I shrugged.

“We’ll see.” I reached toward the door.

“What are you going to do now?”

I shook my head.

“I don’t tell anybody everything that I know, Brand. It is a kind of insurance.”

“I can appreciate that. I only hope that you know enough.”

“Or perhaps you fear that I know too much,” I said.

For a moment a wary look danced on the muscles beneath his eyes. Then he smiled. “I am not afraid of you, brother,” he said.

“It is good to have nothing to fear,” I said. I opened the door.

“Wait,” he said.

“Yes?”

“You neglected to tell me who was with you when you discovered Martin’s Trump, in the place where I had left it.”

“Why, it was Random,” I said.

“Oh. Is he aware of the particulars?”

“If you mean, does he know that you stabbed his son,” I said, “the answer is no, not yet.”

“I see. And of Benedict’s new arm? I understand that you somehow got it for him in Tir-na Nog’th. I would like to know more about this.”

“Not now,” I said. “Let’s save something for our next get-together. It won’t be all that long.”

I went on out and closed the door, my silent regards to the rug.

After visiting the kitchens, compiling an enormous meal and demolishing it, I headed for the stables, where I located a handsome young sorrel which had once belonged to Eric. I made friends with him in spite of this, and a short while later we were moving toward the trail down Kolvir which would take us to the camp of my Shadow forces. As I rode and digested, I tried to sort out the events and revelations of what, to me, had been the past few hours. If Amber had indeed arisen as the result of Dworkin’s act of rebellion within the Courts of Chaos, then it followed that we were all of us related to the very forces which now threatened us. It was, of course, difficult to decide how far anything Dworkin said might now be trusted. Yet, the black road did run to the Courts of Chaos, apparently as a direct result of Brand’s ritual, a thing which he had based on principles learned from Dworkin. Fortunately, for now, the parts of Dworkin’s narrative which required the greatest credulity were those things which were not of any great moment, from an immediate, practical standpoint. Still, I had mixed feelings about being descended from a unicorn-

“Corwin!”

I drew rein. I opened my mind to the sending and the image of Ganelon appeared.

“I am here,” I said. “Where did you get hold of a set of Trumps? And learn how to use them?”

“I picked up a pack from the case in the library a while back. Thought it a good idea to have a way of getting in touch with you in a hurry. As for using them, I just did what you and the others seem to do-study the Trump, think about it, concentrate on getting in touch with the person.”

“I should have gotten you a pack long ago,” I said. “It was an oversight on my part which I am glad you’ve remedied. Are you just testing them now, or did something come up?”

“Something,” he said. “Where are you?”

“As chance would have it, I am on my way down to see you.”

“You are all right?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. Come ahead then. I’d rather not try bringing you through this thing, the way you people do. It is not that urgent. I will see you by and by.”

“Yes.”

He broke the contact and I rustled the reins and continued on. For a moment, I had been irritated that he had not simply asked me for a deck. Then I recalled that I had been away for over a week, by Amber’s time. He had probably been getting worried, didn’t trust any of the others to do it for him. Perhaps rightly so.

The descent went quickly, as did the balance of the journey to the camp. The horse-whose name, by the way, was Drum-seemed happy to be going somewhere and had a tendency to pull away at the least excuse. I gave him his head at one point to tire him a bit, and it was not too long afterward that I sighted the camp. I realized at about that time that I missed Star.

I was the subject of stares and salutes as I rode into camp. A silence followed me and all activity ceased as I passed. I wondered whether they believed I had come to deliver a battle order.

Ganelon emerged from his tent before I had dismounted.

“Fast,” he observed, clasping my hand as I came down. “Pretty horse, that.”

“Yes,” I agreed, turning the reins over to his orderly. “What news have you?”

“Well . . .” he said. “I’ve been talking to Benedict ...”

“Something stirring on the black road?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. He came to see me after he returned from those friends of his-the Tecys-to tell me that Random was all right, that he was following a lead as to Martin’s whereabouts. We got to talking of other matters after that, and finally he asked me to tell him everything I knew about Dara. Random had told him about her walking the Pattern, and he had decided then that too many people other than yourself were aware of her existence.”

“So what did you tell him?”

“Everything.”

“Including the guesswork, the speculation after Tirna Nog’th?”

“Just so.”

“I see. How did he take this?”

“He seemed excited about it. Happy, I’d even say. Come talk with him yourself.”

I nodded and he turned toward his tent. He pushed back the flap and stepped aside. I entered.

Benedict was seated on a low stool beside a foot locker atop which a map had been spread. He was tracing something on the map with the long metal finger of the glinting, skeletal hand attached to the deadly, silver-cabled, firepinned mechanical arm I had brought back from the city in the sky, the entire device now attached to the stump of his right arm a little below the point where the sleeve had been cut away from his brown shirt, a transformation which halted me with a momentary shudder, so much did he resemble the ghost I had encountered. His eyes rose to meet my own and he raised the hand in greeting, a casual, perfectly executed gesture, and he smiled the broadest smile I had ever seen crease his face.

“Corwin!” he said, and then he rose and extended that hand.

I had to force myself to clasp the device which had almost killed me. But Benedict looked more kindly disposed toward me than he had in a long while. I shook the new hand and its pressures were perfect. I tried to disregard its coldness and angularity and almost succeeded, in my amazement at the control he had acquired over it in such a brief time.

“I owe you an apology,” he said. “I have wronged you. I am very sorry.”

“It’s all right,” I said. “I understand.”

He clasped me for a moment, and my belief that things had apparently been set right between us was darkened only by the grip of those precise and deadly fingers on my shoulder.

Ganelon chuckled and brought up another stool, which he set at the other end of the locker. My irritation at his having aired the subject I had not wanted mentioned, whatever the circumstances, was submerged by the sight of its effects. I could not remember having seen Benedict in better spirits; Ganelon was obviously pleased at having effected the resolution of our differences.

I smiled myself and accepted a seat, unbuckling my sword belt and hanging Grayswandir on the tent pole. Ganelon produced three glasses and a bottle of wine. As he set the glasses before us and poured, he remarked, “To return the hospitality of your tent, that night, back in Avalon.”

Benedict took up his glass with but the faintest of clicks.

“There is more ease in this tent,” he said. “Is that not so, Corwin?”

I nodded and raised my glass.

“To that ease. May it always prevail.”

“I have had my first opportunity in a long while,” he said, “to talk with Random at some length. He has changed quite a bit.”

“Yes,” I agreed.

“I am more inclined to trust him now than I was in days gone by. We had the time to talk after we left the Tecys.”

“Where were you headed?”

“Some comments Martin had made to his host seemed to indicate that he was going to a place I knew of further off in Shadow-the block city of Heerat. We journeyed there and found this to be correct. He had passed that way.”

“I am not familiar with Heerat,” I said.

“A place of adobe and stone-a commercial center at the junction of several trade routes. There, Random found news which took him eastward and probably deeper into Shadow. We parted company at Heerat, for I did not want to be away from Amber overlong. Also, there was a personal matter I was anxious to pursue. He told me how he had seen Dara walk the Pattern on the day of the battle.”

“That’s right,” I said. “She did. I was there, too.”

He nodded.

“As I said. Random had impressed me. I was inclined to believe he was telling the truth. If this were so, then it was possible that you were also. Granting this, I had to pursue the matter of the girl’s allegations. You were not available, so I came to Ganelon-this was several days ago-and had him tell me everything he knew about Dara.”

I glanced at Ganelon, who inclined his head slightly.

“So you now believe you have uncovered a new relative,” I said, “a mendacious one, to be sure, and quite possibly an enemy-but a relative, nevertheless. What is your next move?”

He took a sip of wine.

“I would like to believe in the relationship,” he said. “The notion somehow pleases me. So I would like to establish it or negate it to a certainty. If it turns out that we are indeed related, then I would like to understand the motives behind her actions. And I would like to learn why she never made her existence known to me directly.”

He put down his glass, raised his new hand and flexed the fingers.

“So I would like to begin,” he continued, “by learning of those things you experienced in Tir-na Nog’th which apply to me and to Dara. I am also extremely curious about this hand, which behaves as if it were made for me. I have never heard of a physical object being obtained in the city in the sky.”

He made a fist, unclenched it, rotated the wrist, extended the arm, raised it, lowered it gently to his knee.

“Random performed a very effective piece of surgery, don’t you think?” he concluded.

“Very,” I agreed.

“So, will you tell me the story?”

I nodded and took a sip of my wine.

“It was in the palace in the sky that it occurred,” I said. “The place was filled with inky, shifting shadows. I felt impelled to visit the throne room. I did this, and when the shadows moved aside, I saw you standing to the right of the throne, wearing that arm. When things cleared further, I saw Dara seated upon the throne. I advanced and touched her with Grayswandir, which made me visible to her. She declared me dead these several centuries and bade me return to my grave. When I demanded her lineage, she said she was descended of you and of the hellmaid Lintra.”

Benedict drew a deep breath but said nothing. I continued:

“Time, she said, moved at such a different rate in the place of her birth, that several generations had passed there. She was the first of them possessed of regular human attributes. She again bade me depart. During this time, you had been studying Grayswandir. You struck then to remove her from danger, and we fought. My blade could reach you and your hand could reach me. That was all. Otherwise, it was a confrontation of ghosts. As the sun began to rise and the city to fade, you had me in a grip with that hand. I struck it free of the arm with Grayswandir and escaped. It was returned with me because it was still clasping my shoulder.”

“Curious,” Benedict said. “I have known that place to render false prophecies-the fears and hidden desires of the visitor, rather than a true picture of what is to be. But then, it often reveals unknown truths as well. And as in most other things, it is difficult to separate the valid from the spurious. How did you read it?”

“Benedict,” I said, “I am inclined to believe the story of her origin. You have never seen her, but I have. She does resemble you in some ways. As for the rest . . . it is doubtless as you said-that which is left after the truth has been separated out.”

He nodded slowly, and I could tell that he was not convinced but did not want to push the matter. He knew as well as I did what the rest implied. If he were to pursue his claim to the throne and succeed in achieving it, it was possible that he might one day step aside in favor of his only descendant.