He drove me steadily back, and I dodged among trees and he cut them down and kept coming. I made the mistake of attacking and barely stopped his counterthrusts inches from my breast. I fought down the first wave of panic that came to me when I saw that he was driving me back toward the edge of the grove. Soon he would have me in the open, with no trees to slow him.
My attention was focused on him so completely that I did not realize what was then to occur until it did.
With a mightly cry, Ganelon sprang from somewhere, wrapping his arms about Benedict and pinning his sword arm to his side.
Even had I really wanted to, though, I did not have the opportunity to kill him then. He was too fast, and Ganelon was not aware of the man's strength.
Benedict twisted to his right, interposing Ganelon between us, and at the same time brought the stump of his arm around like a club, striking Ganelon in the left temple. Then he pulled his left arm free, seized Ganelon by his belt, swept him off his feet, and threw him at me. As I stepped aside, he retrived his blade from where it had fallen near his feet and came at me again. I barely had time to glance and see that Ganelon had landed in a heap some ten paces to my rear.
I parried and resumed my retreat. I only had one trick remaining, and it saddened me that if it failed Amber would be deprived of its rightful liege.
It is somewhat more difficult to fence with a good left-hander than a good right-hander, and this worked against me also. But I had to experiment a bit. There was something I had to learn, even if it meant taking a chance.
I took a long step back, moving momentarily out of range, then leaned forward and attacked. It was a very calculated thing, and very fast.
One unexpected result, which I am certain was at least partly luck, was that I got through, even though I missed my target. For an instant, Grayswandir rode high off one of his parries and nicked his left ear. This slowed him slightly for a few moments, but not enough to matter. If anything, it served to strengthen his defense. I continued to press my attack, but there was simply no getting through then. It was only a small cut, but the blood ran down to his ear lobe and spattered off, a few drops at a time. It could even be distracting, if I permitted myself to do more than take note of it.
Then I did what I feared, but had to try. I left him a small opening, just for a moment, knowing that he would come right through it toward my heart.
He did, and I parried it at the last instant. I do not like to think about how close he came that time. Then I began to yield once more, giving ground, backing out of the grove. Parrying and retreating, I moved past the spot where Ganelon lay. I fell back another fifteen feet or so, fighting defensively, conservatively.
Then I gave Benedict another opening.
He drove in, as he had before, and I managed to stop him again. He pressed the attack even harder after that, pushing me back to the edge of the black road.
There, I stopped and held my ground, shifting my position to the spot I had chosen. I would have to hold him just a few moments longer, to set him up...
They were very rough moments, but I fought furiously and readied myself.
Then I gave him the same opening again.
I knew he would come in the same as before, and my right leg was across and back behind my left, then straightening, as he did. I gave his blade but the barest beat to the side as I sprang backward onto the black road, immediately extending my arm full length to discourage a balaestra.
Then he did what I had hoped. He beat at my blade and advanced normally when I dropped it into quarte...
... causing him to step into the patch of black grasses over which I had leaped.
I dared not look down at first. I simply stood my ground and gave the flora a chance.
It only took a few moments. Benedict became aware of it the next time that he tried to move. I saw the puzzled expression flash across his face, then the strain. It had him, I knew.
I doubted, though, that it could hold him very long, so I moved immediately.
I danced to the right, out of range of his blade, rushed forward and sprang across the grasses, off the black road once again. He tried to turn, but they had twined themselves about his legs all the way up to his knees. He swayed for a moment, but retained his balance.
I passed behind him and to his right. One easy thrust and he was a dead man, but of course there was no reason to do it now.
He swung his arm back behind his neck and turned his head, pointing the blade at me. He began pulling his left leg free.
But I feinted toward his right, and when he moved to parry it I slapped him across the back of the neck with the flat of Grayswandir.
It stunned him, and I was able to move in and punch him in the kidney with my left hand. He bent slightly and I blocked his sword arm and struck him in the back of the neck again, this time with my fist, hard. He fell, unconscious, and I removed his blade from his hand and cast it aside. The blood from his left ear lobe trailed down his neck like some exotic earring.
I put Grayswandir aside, seized Benedict under the armpits, and dragged him back from the black road. The grasses resisted mightily, but I strained against them and finally had him free.
Ganelon had gotten to his feet by then. He limped up and stood beside me, looking down at Benedict.
“What a fellow he is,” he said. “What a fellow he is... What are we going to do with him?”
I picked him up in a fireman's carry and stood.
“Take him back toward the wagon right now,” I said. “Will you bring the blades?”
“All right.”
I headed up the road and Benedict remained unconscious-which was good, because I did not want to have to hit him again if I could help it. I deposited him at the base of a sturdy tree beside the road near the wagon.
I resheathed our blades when Ganelon came up, and set him to stripping ropes from several of the cases. While he did this, I searched Benedict and found what I was looking for.
I bound him to the tree then, while Ganelon fetched his horse. We tethered it to a nearby bush, upon which I also hung his blade.
Then I mounted to the driver's seat of the wagon and Ganelon came up alongside.
“Are you just going to leave him there?” he asked.
“For now,” I said.
We moved on up the road. I did not look back, but Ganelon did.
“He hasn't moved yet,” he reported. Then, “Nobody ever just took me and threw me like that. With one hand yet.”
“That's why I told you to wait with the wagon, and not to fight with him if I lost.”
“What is to become of him now?”
“I will see that he is taken care of, soon.”
“He will be all right, though?”
I nodded.
“Good.”
We continued on for perhaps two miles and I halted the horses. I climbed down.
“Don't be upset by anything that happens,” I said. “I am going to make arrangements for Benedict now.” I moved off the road and stood in the shade, taking out the deck of Trumps Benedict had been carrying. I riffled through them, located Gerard, and removed him from the pack. The rest I returned to the silk-lined, wooden case, inlaid with bone, in which Benedict had carried them.
I held Gerard's Trump before me and regarded it.
After a time, it grew warm, real, seemed to stir. I felt Gerard's actual presence. He was in Amber. He was walking down a street that I recognized. He looks a lot like me, only larger, heavier. I saw that he still wore his beard.
He halted and stared.
“Corwin!”