Roger Zelazny - Amber 05 - The Courts of Chaos

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The Courts Of Chaos

Chapter 1

Amber: high and bright atop Kolvir in the middle of the day. A black road:

low and sinister through Garnath from Chaos to the south. Me: cursing, pacing

and occasionally reading in the library of the palace in Amber. The door to

that library: closed and barred.

The mad prince of Amber seated himself at the desk, returned his attention

to the opened volume. There was a knock on the door. "Go away!" I said.

"Corwin. It's me - Random. Open up, huh? I even brought lunch."

"Just a minute."

I got to my feet again, rounded the desk, crossed the room. Random nodded

when I opened the door. He carried a tray, which he took to a small table near

the desk.

"Plenty of food there," I said.

"I'm hungry, too."

"So do something about it."

He did. He carved. He passed me some meat on a slab of bread. He poured

wine. We seated ourselves and ate.

"I know you are still mad..." he said, after a time. "Aren't you?"

"Well, maybe I am more used to it. I don't know. Still... Yes. It was

sort of abrupt, wasn't it?"

"Abrupt?"

I took a large swallow of wine.

"It is just like the old days. Worse even. I had actually come to like him

when he was playing at being Ganelon. Now that he is back in control he is

just as peremptory as ever, he has given us a set of orders he has not

bothered to explain and he has disappeared again."

"He said he would be in touch soon."

"I imagine he intended that last time, too."

"I'm not so sure."

"And he explained nothing about his other absence. In fact, he has not

really explained anything."

"He must have his reasons."

"I am beginning to wonder, Random. Do you think his mind might finally be

going?"

"He was still sharp enough to fool you."

"That was a combination of low animal cunning and shapeshifting ability."

"It worked, didn't it?"

"Yes. It worked."

"Corwin, could it be that you do not want him to have a plan that might be

effective, that you do not want him to be right?"

"That is ridiculous. I want this mess cleared up as much as any of us."

"Yes, but wouldn't you rather the answer came from another quarter?"

"What are you getting at?"

"You do not want to trust him."

"I will admit that. I have not seen him - as himself - in a hell of a long

time, and..."

He shook his head.

"That is not what I mean. You are angry that he is back, aren't you? You

hoped that we had seen the last of him."

I looked away.

"There is that," I finally said. "But not for a vacant throne, or not just

for it. It is him, Random. Him. That's all."

"I know," he said. "But you have to admit he suckered Brand, which is not

an easy thing to do. He pulled a stunt I still do not understand, getting you

to bring that arm back from Tir-na Nog'th, somehow getting me to pass it along

to Benedict, seeing to it that Benedict was in the right place at the proper

moment, so that everything worked and he got the Jewel back. He is also still

better than we are at Shadow play. He managed it right on Kolvir when he took

us to the primal Pattern. I cannot do that. Neither can you. And he was able

to whip Gerard. I do not believe that he is slowing down. I think he knows

exactly what he is doing, and whether we like it or not, I think he is the

only one who can deal with the present situation."

"You are trying to say that I should trust him?"

"I am trying to say that you have no choice."

I sighed.

"I guess you've put your finger on it," I said. "No sense in my being

bitter. Still..."

"The attack order bothers you, doesn't it?"

"Yes, among other things. If we could wait longer, Benedict could field a

greater force. Three days is not much time to get ready for something like

this. Not when we are so uncertain about the enemy."

"But we may not be. He spoke in private with Benedict for a long while."

"And that is the other thing. These separate orders. This secrecy... He is

not trusting us any more than he has to."

Random chuckled. So did I.

"All right," I said. "Maybe I would not either. But three days to launch a

war." I shook my head. "He had better know something we don't."

"I get the impression that it is more a peremptory strike than a war."

"Only he did not bother to tell us what we are preempting."

Random shrugged, poured more wine.

"Perhaps he will say when he gets back. You did not get any special

orders, did you?"

"Just to stand and wait. What about you?"

He shook his head.

"He said that when the time comes, I will know. At least with Julian, he

told him to have his troops ready to move on a moment's notice."

"Oh? Aren't they staying in Arden?"

He nodded.

"When did he say this?"

"After you left. He trumped Julian up here to give him the message, and

they rode off together. I heard Dad say that he would ride partway back with

him."

"Did they take the eastern trail over Kolvir?"

"Yes. I saw them off."

"Interesting. What else did I miss?"

He shifted in his seat.

"The part that bothers me," he said. "After Dad had mounted and waved a

good-by, he looked back at me and said, 'And keep an eye on Martin.' "

"That is all?"

"That is all. But he was laughing as he said it."

"Just natural suspicion at a newcomer, I guess."

"Then why the laugh?"

"I give up."

I cut a piece of cheese and ate it.

"Might not be a bad idea, though. It might not be suspicion. Maybe he

feels Martin needs to be protected from something. Or both. Or neither. You

know how he sometimes is."

Random stood.

"I had not thought through to the alternative. Come with me now, huh?" he

said. "You have been up here all morning."

"All right."

I got to my feet, buckled on Grayswandir.

"Where is Martin, anyway?"

"I left him down on the first floor. He was talking with Gerard."

"He is in good hands, then. Is Gerard going to be staying here, or will he

be returning to the fleet?"

"I do not know. He would not discuss his orders."

We left the room. We headed for the stairway.

On the way down, I heard some small commotion from below and I quickened

my pace.

I looked over the railing and saw a throng of guards at the entrance to

the throne room, along with the massive figure of Gerard. All of them had

their backs to us. I leaped down the final stairs. Random was not far behind

me.

I pushed my way through.

"Gerard, what is happening?" I asked.

"Damned if I know," he said. "Look for yourself. But there is no getting

in."

He moved aside and I took a step forward. Then another. And that was it.

It was as if I were pushing against a slightly resilient, totally invisible

wall. Beyond was a sight that tied my memory and feelings into a knot. I

stiffened, as fear took hold of me by the neck, clasped my hands. No mean

trick, that.

Martin, smiling, still held a Trump in his left hand, and Benedict -

apparently recently summoned - stood before him. A girl was nearby, on the

dais, beside the throne, facing away. Both men appeared to be speaking, but I

could not hear the words.

Finally, Benedict turned and seemed to address the girl. After a time, she

appeared to be answering him. Martin moved off to her left. Benedict mounted

the dais as she spoke. I could see her face then. The exchange continued.

"That girl looks somewhat familiar," said Gerard, who had moved forward

and now stood at my side.

"You might have gotten a glimpse of her as she rode past us," I told him,

"the day Eric died. It's Dara."

I heard his sudden intake of breath.

"Dara!" he said. "Then you..." His voice faded.

"I was not lying," I said. "She is real."

"Martin!" cried Random, who had moved up on my right. "Martin! What's

going on!"

There was no response.

"I don't think he can hear you," Gerard said. "This barrier seems to have

cut us off completely."

Random strained forward, his hands pushing against something unseen.

"Let's all of us give it a shove," he said.

So I tried again. Gerard also threw his weight against the invisible wall.

After half a minute without success, I eased back.

"No good," I said. "We can't move it."

"What is the damned thing?" Random asked. "What is holding - "

I'd had a hunch - only that, though - as to what might be going on. And

only because of the deja-vu character of the entire piece. Now, though... Now

I clasped my hand to my scabbard, to assure myself that Grayswandir still hung

at my side. It did.

Then how could I explain the presence of my distinctive blade, its

elaborate tracery gleaming for all to see, hanging where it had suddenly

appeared, without support, in the air before the throne, its point barely

touching Dara's throat? I could not.

But it was too similar to what had happened that night in the dream city

in the sky, Tir-na Nog'th, to be a coincidence. Here were none of the

trappings - the darkness, the confusion, the heavy shadows, the tumultuous

emotions I had known - and yet the piece was set much as it had been that

night. It was very similar. But not precisely so. Benedict's stance seemed

somewhat off - farther back, his body angled differently. While I could not

read her lips, I wondered whether Dara was asking the same strange questions,

I doubted it. The tableau - like, yet unlike, that which I had experienced -

had probably been colored at the other end - that is, if there were any

connection at all - by the effects of Tir-na Nog'th's powers upon my mind at

that time.

"Corwin," Random said, "that looks like Grayswandir hanging in front of

her."

"It does, doesn't it?" I said. "But as you can see, I am wearing my

blade."

"There can't be another just like it... can there? Do you know what is

happening?"

"I am beginning to feel as if I may," I said. "Whatever, I am powerless to

stop it."

Benedict's blade suddenly came free and engaged the other, so like my own.

In a moment, he was fighting an invisible opponent.

"Give him hell, Benedict!" Random shouted.

"It is no use," I said. "He is about to be disarmed."

"How can you know?" Gerard asked.

"Somehow, that is me in there, fighting with him," I said. "This is the

other end of my dream in Tir-na Nog'th. I do not know how he managed it, but

this is the price for Dad's recovering the Jewel."

"I do not follow you," he said.

I shook my head.

"I do not pretend to understand how it is being done," I told him. "But we

will not be able to enter until two things have vanished from that room."

"What two things?"

"Just watch."

Benedict's blade had changed hands, and his gleaming prosthesis shot

forward and fixed itself upon some unseen target. The two blades parried one

another, locked, pressed, their points moving toward the ceiling. Benedict's

right hand continued to tighten.

Suddenly, the Grayswandir blade was free, and moving past the other. It

struck a terrific blow to Benedict's right arm at the place where the metal

portion joined it. Then Benedict turned and the action was blocked to our view

for several moments.

Then the sight was clear again, as Benedict dropped to one knee, turning.

He clutched at the stump of his arm. The mechanical hand/arm hung in the air

near Grayswandir. It was moving away from Benedict and descending, as was the

blade. When both reached the floor, they did not strike it but passed on

through, vanishing from sight.

I lurched forward, recovered my balance, moved ahead. The barrier was

gone.

Martin and Dara reached Benedict before we did. Dara had already torn a

strip from her cloak and was binding Benedict's stump when Gerard, Random and

I got there. Random seized Martin by the shoulder and turned him.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Dara... Dara told me she wanted to see Amber," he said. "Since I live

here now, I agreed to bring her through and show her around. Then - "

"Bring her through? You mean on a Trump?"

"Well, yes."

"Yours or hers?"

Martin raked his lower lip with his teeth.

"Well, you see..."

"Give me those cards," said Random, and he snatched the case from Martin's

belt. He opened it and began going through them.

"Then I thought to tell Benedict, since he was interested in her," Martin

went on. "Then Benedict wanted to come and see - "

"What the hell!" Random said. "There is one of you, one of her, and one of

a guy I've never even seen before! Where did you get these?"

"Let me see them," I said.

He passed me the three cards.

"Well?" he said. "Was it Brand? He is the only one I know who can make

Trumps now."

"I would not have anything to do with Brand," Martin replied, "except to

kill him."

But I already knew they were not from Brand. They were simply not in his

style. Nor were they in the style of anyone whose work I knew. Style was not

foremost in my mind at that moment, however. Rather, it was the features of

the third person, the one whom Random had said he had never seen before. I

had. I was looking at the face of the youth who had confronted me with a

crossbow before the Courts of Chaos, recognized me and then declined to shoot.

I extended the card.

"Martin, who is this?" I asked.

"The man who made these extra Trumps," he said.

"He drew one of himself while he was about it. I do not know his name. He

is a friend of Dara's."

"You are lying," Random said.

"Then let Dara tell us," I said, and I turned to her.

She still knelt beside Benedict, though she had finished bandaging him and

he was now sitting up.

"How about it?" I said, waving the card at her. "Who is this man?"

She glanced at the card, then up at me.

She smiled.

"You really do not know?" she said.

"Would I be asking if I did?"

"Then look at it again and go look in a mirror. He is your son as much as

mine. His name is Merlin."

I am not easily shocked, but this had nothing of ease about it. I felt

dizzy. But my mind moved quickly. With the proper time differential the thing

was possible.

"Dara," I said, "what is it that you want?"

"I told you when I walked the Pattern," she said, "that Amber must be

destroyed. What I want is to have my rightful part in it."

"You will have my old cell," I said. "No, the one next to it. Guards!"

"Corwin, it is all right," Benedict said, getting to his feet. "It is not

as bad as it sounds. She can explain everything."

"Then let her start now."

"No. In private, just family."

I motioned back the guards who had come at my call.

"Very well. Let us adjourn to one of the rooms up the hall."

He nodded, and Dara took hold of his left arm. Random, Gerard, Martin and

I followed them out. I looked back once to the empty place where my dream had

come true. Such is the stuff.

The Courts Of Chaos

Chapter 2

I rode up over the crest of Kolvir and dismounted when I came to my tomb.

I went inside and opened the casket. It was empty. Good. I was beginning to

wonder. I had half expected to see myself laid out before me, evidence that

despite signs and intuitions I had somehow wandered into the wrong Shadow.

I went back outside and rubbed Star's nose. The sun was shining and the

breeze was chill. I had a sudden desire to go to sea. I seated myself on the

bench instead and fumbled with my pipe.

We had talked. Seated with her legs beneath her on the brown sofa, Dara

had smiled and repeated the story of her descent from Benedict and Lintra, the

hellmaid, growing up in and about the Courts of Chaos, a grossly non Euclidean

realm where time itself presented strange distribution problems.

"The things you told me when we met were lies," I said. "Why should I

believe you now?"

She had smiled and regarded her fingernails.

"I had to lie to you then," she explained, "to get what I wanted from

you."

"That being...?"

"Knowledge, of the family, the Pattern, the Trumps, of Amber. To gain your

trust. To have your child."

"The truth would not have served as well?"

"Hardly. I come from the enemy. My reasons for wanting these things were

not the sort of which you would approve."

"Your swordplay...? You told me then that Benedict had trained you."

She smiled again and her eyes glowed dark fires.

"I learned from the great Duke Borel himself, a High Lord of Chaos."

"...and your appearance," I said. "It was altered on a number of occasions

when I saw you walk the Pattern. How? Also, why?"

"All whose origins involve Chaos are shapeshifters," she replied.

I thought of Dworkin's performance the night he had impersonated me.

Benedict nodded.

"Dad fooled us with his Ganelon disguise."

"Oberon is a son of Chaos," Dara said, "a rebel son of a rebel father. But

the power is still there."

"Then why is it we cannot do it?" Random asked.

She shrugged.

"Have you ever tried? Perhaps you can. On the other hand, it may have died

out with your generation. I do not know. As to myself, however, I have certain

favored shapes to which I revert in times of stress. I grew up where this was

the rule, where the other shape was actually sometimes dominant. It is still a

reflex with me. This is what you witnessed - that day."

"Dara," I said, "Why did you want the things that you said you wanted -

knowledge of the family, the Pattern, the Trumps, Amber? And a son?"

"All right." She sighed. "All right. You are by now aware of Brand's

plans - the destruction and rebuilding of Amber...?"

"Yes."

"This involved our consent and co-operation."

"Including the murder of Martin?" Random asked.

"No," she said. "We did not know who he intended to use as the - agent."

"Would it have stopped you had you known?"

"You are asking a hypothetical question," she said. "Answer it yourself. I

am glad that Martin is still alive. That is all that I can say about it."

"All right," Random said. "What about Brand?"

"He was able to contact our leaders by methods he had learned from

Dworkin. He had ambitions. He needed knowledge, power. He offered a deal."

"What sort of knowledge?"

"For one thing, he did not know how to destroy the Pattern - "

"Then you were responsible for what he did," Random said.

"If you choose to look at it that way."

"I do."

She shrugged, looked at me.

"Do you want to hear this story?"

"Go ahead."

I glanced at Random and he nodded.

"Brand was given what he wanted," she said, "but he was not trusted. It

was feared that once he possessed the power to shape the world as he would, he

would not stop with ruling over a revised Amber. He would attempt to extend

his dominion over Chaos as well. A weakened Amber was what was desired, so

that Chaos would be stronger than it now is - the striking of a new balance,

giving to us more of the shadowlands that lie between our realms. It was

realized long ago that the two kingdoms can never be merged, or one destroyed,

without also disrupting all the processes that lie in flux between us. Total

stasis or complete chaos would be the result. Yet, though it was seen what

Brand had in mind, our leaders came to terms with him. It was the best

opportunity to present itself in ages. It had to be seized. It was felt that

Brand could be dealt with, and finally replaced, when the time came."

"So you were also planning a double-cross," Random said.

"Not if he kept his word. But then, we knew that he would not. So we

provided for the move against him."

"How?"

"He would be allowed to accomplish his end and then be destroyed. He would

be succeeded by a member of the royal family of Amber who was also of the

first family of the Courts, one who had been raised among us and trained for

the position. Merlin even traces his connection with Amber on both sides,

through my forebear Benedict and directly from yourself - the two most favored

claimants to your throne."

"You are of the royal house of Chaos?"

She smiled.

I rose. Strode away. Stared at the ashes on the grate.

"I find it somewhat distressing to have been involved in a calculated

breeding project," I said, at length. "But be that as it may, and accepting

everything you have said as true - for the moment - why are you telling us all

of these things now?"

"Because," she said, "I fear that the lords of my realm would go as far

for their vision as Brand would for his. Farther, perhaps. That balance I

spoke of. Few seem to appreciate what a delicate thing it is. I have traveled

in the shadowlands near to Amber, and I have walked in Amber herself. I also

have known the shadows that lie by Chaos side. I have met many people and seen

many things. Then, when I encountered Martin and spoke with him, I began to

feel that the changes I had been told would be for the better would not simply

result in a revision of Amber more along the lines of my elders' liking. They

would, instead, turn Amber into a mere extension of the Courts, most of the

shadows would boil away to join with Chaos. Amber would become an island. Some

of my seniors who still smart at Dworkin's having created Amber in the first

place are really seeking a return to the days before this happened. Total

Chaos, from which all things arose. I see the present condition as superior

and I wish to preserve it. My desire is that neither side emerge victorious in

any conflict."

I turned in time to see Benedict shaking his head.

"Then you are on neither side," he stated.

"I like to think that I am on both."

"Martin," I said, "are you in this with her?"

He nodded.

Random laughed.

"The two of you? Against both Amber and the Courts of Chaos? What do you

hope to achieve? How do you plan to further this notion of balance?"

"We are not alone," she said, "and the plan is not ours."

Her fingers dipped into her pocket. Something glittered when she withdrew

them. She turned it in the light. It was our father's signet ring that she

held.

"Where did you get that?" Random asked.

"Where else?"

Benedict stepped toward her and held out his hand. She gave it to him. He

scrutinized it.

"It is his," he said. "It has the little markings on the back that I've

seen before. Why do you have it?"

"First, to convince you that I am acting properly when I convey his

orders," she said.

"How is it that you even know him?" I asked.

"I met him during his - difficulties - some time back," she told us. "In

fact, you might say that I helped to deliver him from them. This was after I

had met Martin, and I was inclined to be more sympathetic toward Amber. But

then, your father is also a charming and persuasive man. I decided that I

could not simply stand by and see him remain prisoner to my kin."

"Do you know how he was captured in the first place?"

She shook her head.

"I only know that Brand effected his presence in a shadow far enough from

Amber that he could be taken there. I believe it involved a fake quest for a

nonexistent magical tool which might heal the Pattern. He realizes now that

only the Jewel can do it."

"Your helping him to get away... How did this affect your relations with

your own people?"

"Not too damned well," she said. "I am temporarily without a home."

"And you want one here?"

She smiled again.

"It depends on how things turn out. If my people have their way, I would

as soon go back - or stay with what shadows remain."

I withdrew a Trump, glanced at it.

"What of Merlin? Where is he now?"

"They have him," she said. "I fear he may be their man now. He knows his

parentage, but they have had charge of his education for a long while. I do

not know whether he could be gotten away."

I raised the Trump, stared at it.

"No good," she said. "It will not function between here and there."

I recalled how difficult Trump communication had been when I had been to

the fringes of that place. I tried anyway. The card grew cold in my hand and

I reached out. There was the faintest flicker of a responding presence. I

tried harder.

"Merlin, this is Corwin," I said. "Do you hear me?"

I seemed to hear a reply. It seemed to be, "I cannot - " And then there

was nothing. The card lost its coldness.

"Did you reach him?" she asked.

"I am not sure," I said. "But I think so. Just for a moment."

"Better than I thought," she said. "Either conditions are good or your

minds are very similar."

"When you began waving Dad's signet around you spoke of orders," Random

said. "What orders? And why is he sending them through you?"

"It is a matter of timing."

"Timing? Hell! He just left here this morning!"

"He had to finish one thing before he was ready for another. He had no

idea how long it would take. But I was just in touch with him before I came

here - though I was hardly prepared for the reception I walked into - and he

is now ready to begin the next phase."

"Where did you speak with him?" I asked. "Where is he?"

"I have no idea where he is. He contacted me."

"And...?"

"He wants Benedict to attack immediately."

Gerard finally stirred from the huge armchair in which he had sat

listening. He rose to his feet, hooked his thumbs in his belt and looked down

at her.

"An order like that would have to come directly from Dad."

"It did," she said.

He shook his head.

"It makes no sense. Why contact you - someone we have small reason to

trust - rather than one of us?"

"I do not believe that he can reach you at the moment. On the other hand,

he was able to reach me."

"Why?"

"He did not use a Trump. He does not have one for me. He used a

reverberation effect of the black road, similar to the means by which Brand

once escaped Corwin."

"You know a lot of what has been going on."

"I do. I still have sources in the Courts, and Brand transported himself

there after your struggle. I hear things."

"Do you know where our father is right now?" Random asked.

"No, I do not know. But I believe that he has journeyed to the real Amber,

to take counsel with Dworkin and to re - examine the damage to the primal

Pattern."

"To what end?"

"I do not know. Probably to decide on the course of action he will take.

The fact that he reached me and ordered the attack most likely means that he

has decided."

"How long ago was this communication?"

"just a few hours - my time. But I was far from here in Shadow. I do not

know what the time differential is. I am too new at this."

"So it could be something extremely recent. Possibly only moments ago,"

Gerard mused. "Why did he talk with you rather than one of us? I do not

believe that he could not reach us if he wished to."

"Perhaps to show that he looks upon me with favor," she said.

"All of this may be entirely true," Benedict stated. "But I am not moving

without a confirmation of that order."

"Is Fiona still at the primal Pattern?" Random asked.

"Last I heard," I told him, "she had set up camp there. I see what you

mean..."

I shuffled out Fi's card.

"It took more than one of us to get through from there," he observed.

"True. So give me a hand."

He rose, came to my side. Benedict and Gerard also approached.

"This is not really necessary," Dara protested.

I ignored her and concentrated on the delicate features of my red-haired

sister. Moments later, we had contact.

"Fiona," I asked, seeing from the background that she was still in

residence at the heart of things, "is Dad there?"

"Yes," she said, smiling tightly. "He is inside with Dworkin."

"Listen, urgency prevails. I do not know whether or not you know Dara, but

she is here - "

"I know who she is, but I have never met her."

"Well, she claims she has an attack order for Benedict, from Dad. She has

his signet to back it up, but he did not speak of this earlier. Do you know

anything about it?"

"No," she said. "All we did was exchange greetings when he and Dworkin

were out here earlier to look at the Pattern. I had some suspicions then,

though, and this confirms them."

"Suspicions? What do you mean?"

"I think Dad is going to try to repair the Pattern. He has the Jewel with

him, and I overheard some of the things he said to Dworkin. If he makes the

attempt, they will be aware of it in the Courts of Chaos the moment that he

begins. They will try to stop him. He would want to strike first to keep them

occupied. Only..."

"What?"

"It is going to kill him, Corwin. I know that much about it. Whether he

succeeds or fails, he will be destroyed in the process."

"I find it hard to believe."

"That a king would give up his life for the realm?"

"That Dad would."

"Then either he has changed or you never really knew him. But I do believe

he is going to try it."

"Then why send his latest order by someone he knows we do not really

trust?"

"To show that he wants you to trust her, I would guess, once he has

confirmed it."

"It seems a roundabout way of doing things, but I agree that we should not

act without that confirmation. Can you get it for us?"

"I will try. I will get back to you as soon as I have spoken with him."

She broke the contact.

I turned toward Dara, who had heard only our side of the conversation.

"Do you know what Dad is going to do right now?" I asked her.

"Something involving the black road," she said. "He had indicated that

much. What, though, or how, he did not say."

I turned away. I squared my cards and encased them. I did not like this

turning of events. This entire day had started badly, and things had been

going downhill ever since. It was only a little past lunchtime, too. I shook

my head. When I had spoken with him, Dworkin had described the results of any

attempt to repair the Pattern, and they had sounded pretty horrendous to me.

Supposing Dad tried it, failed, and got himself killed in the attempt? Where

would we be then? Right where we were now, only without a leader, on the eve

of battle - and with the succession problem stirring again. That whole ghastly

business would be in the back of our minds as we rode to the wars, and we

would all begin our private arrangements to fight one another once more as

soon as the current enemy was dealt with. There had to be another way of

handling things. Better Dad alive and on the throne than a revival of the

succession intrigues.

"What are we waiting for?" Dara asked. "Confirmation?"

"Yes," I replied.

Random began to pace. Benedict seated himself and tested the dressing on

his arm. Gerard leaned against the mantelpiece. I stood and thought. An idea

came to me just then. I pushed it away immediately, but it returned. I did not

like it, but that had nothing to do with practicalities. I would have to move

quickly, though, before I had a chance to talk myself around to another

viewpoint. No. I would stick with this one. Damn it!

There came a stirring of contact. I waited. Moments later, I regarded

Fiona again. She stood in a familiar place that it took me several seconds to

recognize: Dworkin's sitting room, on the other side of the heavy door at the

back of the cave. Dad and Dworkin were both with her. Dad had dropped his

Ganelon disguise and was his old self once again. I saw that he wore the

Jewel.

"Corwin," Fiona said, "it is true. Dad did send the attack order with

Dara, and he expected this call for confirmation. I - "

"Fiona, bring me through."

"What?"

"You heard me. Now!"

I extended my right hand. She reached forward and we touched.

"Corwin!" Random shouted. "What's happening!"

Benedict was on his feet, Gerard already moving toward me.

"You will hear about it shortly," I said, and I stepped forward.

I squeezed her hand before I released it and I smiled.

"Thanks, Fi. Hello, Dad. Hi, Dworkin. How's everything?"

I glanced once at the heavy door, saw that it stood open. Then I passed

around Fiona and moved toward them. Dad's head was lowered, his eyes narrowed.

I knew that look.

"What is this, Corwin? You are here without leave," he said. "I have

confirmed that damned order, now I expect it to be carried out."

"It will be," I said, nodding. "I did not come here to argue about that."

"What, then?"

I moved nearer, calculating my words as well as the distance. I was glad

that he had remained seated.

"For a time we rode as comrades," I said. "Damned if I did not come to

like you then. I never had before, you know. Never had guts enough to say that

before either, but you know it is true. I like to think that that is how

things could have been, if we had not been what we are to each other."

For the barest moment, his gaze seemed to soften as I positioned myself.

Then,

"At any rate," I went on, "I am going to believe in you that way rather

than this way, because there is something I would never have done for you

otherwise."

"What?" he asked.

"This."

I seized the Jewel with an upward sweeping motion and snapped the chain up

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TheCourtsOfChaosChapter1Amber:highandbrightatopKolvirinthemiddleoftheday.Ablackroad:lowandsinisterthroughGarnathfromChaostothesouth.Me:cursing,pacingandoccasionallyreadinginthelibraryofthepalaceinAmber.Thedoortothatlibrary:closedandbarred.ThemadprinceofAmberseatedhimselfatthedesk,returnedhisattentio...

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Roger Zelazny - Amber 05 - The Courts of Chaos

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