I knelt, unable to take my eyes off that ashen face. I tried to push my hate aside just a little, since he was obviously dying, so that I might have a better chance to understand this man who was my brother for the moments that remained to him. I found that I could muster up something of sympathy by considering all that he was losing along with his life and wondering whether it would have been me lying there if I had come out on top five years earlier. I tried to think of something in his favor, and all I could come up with were the epitaph-like words, He died fighting for Amber. That was something, though. The phrase kept runing through my mind.
His eyes tightened, flickered, opened. His face remained without expression as his eyes focused on mine. I wondered whether he even recognized me.
But he said my name, and then, “I knew that it would be you.” He paused for a couple of breaths and went on, “They saved you some trouble, didn't they?” I did not reply. He already knew the answer.
“Your turn will come one day,” he continued. “Then we will be peers.” He chuckled and realized too late that he should not have. He went into an unpleasant spasm of moist coughing. When it passed, he glared at me.
“I could feel your curse,” he said. “All around me. The whole time. You didn't even have to die to make it stick.”
Then, as if reading my thoughts, he smiled faintly and said, “No I'm not going to give you my death curse. I've reserved that for the enemies of Amber-out there.” He gestured with his eyes. He pronounced it then, in a whisper, and I shuddered to overhear it.
He returned his gaze to my face and stared for a moment. Then he plucked at the chain about his neck.
“The Jewel...” he said. “You take it with you to the center of the Pattern. Hold it up. Very close-to an eye. Stare into it-and consider it a place. Try to project yourself-inside. You don't go. But there is-experience... Afterward, you know how to use it...”
“How-?” I began, but stopped. He had already told me how to attune to it. Why ask him to waste his breath on how he had figured it out?
But he caught it and managed, “Dworkin's notes... under fireplace... my—”
Then he was taken with another coughing spell and the blood came out of his nose and his mouth. He sucked in a deep breath and heaved himself into a sitting position, eyes rolling wildly.
“Acquit yourself as well as I have-bastard!” he said, then fell into my arms and heaved out his final, bloody breath.
I held him for several moments, then lowered him into his former position. His eyes were still open, and I reached out and closed them. Almost automatically, I put his hands together atop the now lifeless gem. I had no stomach to take it from him at that moment. I stood then, removed my cloak, and covered him with it.
Turning, I saw that all of them were staring at me. Familiar faces, many of them. Some strange ones mixed in. So many who had been there that night when I had come to dinner in chains...
No. It was not the time to think of that. I pushed it from my mind. The shooting had stopped, and Ganelon was calling the troops back and ordering some sort of formation. I walked forward.
I passed among the Amberites. I passed among the dead. I walked by my own troops and moved to the edge of the cliff.
In the valley below me, the fighting continued, the cavalry flowing like turbulent waters, merging, eddying, receding, the infantry still swarming like insects.
I drew forth the cards I had taken from Benedict. I removed his own from the deck. It shimmered before me, and after a time there was contact.
He was mounted on the same red and black horse on which he had pursued me. He was in motion and there was fighting all about him. Seeing that he confronted another horseman, I remained still. He spoke but a single word. “Bide,” he said.
He dispatched his opponent with two quick movements of his blade. Then he wheeled his mount and began to withdraw from the fray. I saw that his horse's reins had been lengthened and were looped and tied loosely about the remainder of his right arm. It took him over ten minutes to remove himself to a place of relative calm. When he had, he regarded me, and I could tell that he was also studying the prospect that lay at my back.
“Yes, I am on the heights,” I told him. “We have won. Eric died in the battle.”
He continued to stare, waiting for me to go on. His face betrayed no emotion.
“We won because I brought riflemen,” I said. “I finally found an explosive agent that functions here.” His eyes narrowed and he nodded. I felt that he realized immediately what the stuff was and where it had come from.
“While there are many things I want to discuss with you,” I continued, “I want to take care of the enemy first. If you will hold the contact, I will send you several hundred riflemen.” He smiled.
“Hurry,” he said.
I shouted for Ganelon, and he answered me from only a few paces away. I told him to line the troops up, single file. He nodded and went off, shouting orders.
As we waited, I said, “Benedict, Dara is here. She was able to follow you through Shadow when you rode in from Avalon. I want—”
He bared his teeth and shouted: “Who the hell is this Dara you keep talking about? I never heard of her till you came along! Please tell me! I would really like to know!”
I smiled faintly.
“It's no good,” I said, shaking my head. “I know all about her, though I have told no one else that you've a great granddaughter.”
His lips parted involuntarily and his eyes were suddenly wide.
“Corwin,” he said, “you are either mad or deceived. I've no such descendant that I know of. As for anyone following me here through Shadow, I came in on Julian's Trump.”
Of course. My only excuse for not tripping her up immediately was my preoccupation with the conflict Benedict would have been notified of the battle by means of the Trumps. Why should he waste time traveling when an instant means of transport was at hand?
“Damn!” I said. “She is in Amber by now! Listen, Benedict! I am going to get Gerard or Caine over here to handle the transfer of the troops to you. Ganelon will come through, also. Give them their orders through him.”
I looked around, saw Gerard talking with several of the nobles. I shouted for him with a desperate urgency. His head turned quickly. Then he began running in my direction.
“Corwin! What is it?” Benedict was shouting.
“I don't know! But something is very wrong!” I thrust the Trump at Gerard as he came up.
“See that the troops get through to Benedict!” I said. “Is Random in the palace?”
“Yes.”
“Free or confined?”
“Free-more or less. There will be some guards about. Eric still doesn't-didn't trust him.” I turned.
“Ganelon,” I called out. “Do what Gerard here tells you. He is going to send you to Benedict-down there.” I gestured. “See that the men follow Benedict's orders. I have to get into Amber now.”
“All right,” he called back.
Gerard headed in his direction, and I fanned the Trumps once more. I located Random's and began to concentrate. At that moment, it finally began to rain. I made contact almost immediately.
“Hello, Random,” I said, as soon as his image came to life. “Remember me?”
“Where are you?” he asked.
“In the mountains,” I told him. “We just won this part of the battle, and I am sending Benedict the help he needs to clean up in the valley. Now, though, I need your help. Bring me across.”
“I don't know, Corwin. Eric—”
“Eric is dead.”
“Then who is in charge?”
“Who do you think? Bring me across!”
He nodded quickly and extended his hand. I reached out and clasped it. I stepped forward. I stood beside him on a balcony overlooking one of the courtyards. The railing was of white marble, and not much was blooming down below. We were two stories up. I swayed and he seized my arm. “You're hurt!” be said.