They were waiting for me, my brother and sister and Moire with her thighs like marble pillars.
Deirdre could take care of herself from here on out — after all, we’d saved her life. I didn’t feel obligated to go on protecting her on a day-by-day basis. Random was stuck in Rebma for a year, unless he had guts enough to leap forward and take the Pattern to this still center of power and perhaps escape. And as for Moire, it had been nice knowing her, and maybe I’d see her again some day, and like that. I closed my eyes and bowed my head.
Before I did so, though, I saw a fleeting shadow.
Random? Trying it? Whatever, he wouldn’t know where I was headed. No one would.
I opened my eyes and I stood in the middle of the same Pattern, in reverse.
I was cold, and I was damn tired, but I was in Amber — in the real room, of which the one I had departed was but an image. From the Pattern, I could transfer myself to any point I wished within Amber.
Getting back would be a problem, however.
So I stood there and dripped and considered.
If Eric had taken the royal suite, then I might find him there. Or perhaps in the throne room. But then, I’d have to make my own way back to the place of power, I’d have to walk the Pattern again, in order to reach the escape point.
I transferred myself to a hiding place I knew of within the palace. It was a windowless cubicle into which some light trickled from observation slits high overhead. I bolted its one sliding panel from the inside, dusted off a wooden bench set beside the wall, spread my cloak upon it and stretched out for a nap. If anyone came groping his way down from above, I’d hear him long before he reached me.
I slept.
After a while, I awakened. So I arose, dusted off my cloak and donned it once more. Then I began to negotiate the series of pegs which laddered their way up into the palace.
I knew where it was, the third floor, by the markings on the walls.
I swung myself over to a small landing and searched for the peephole. I found it and gazed through. Nothing. The library was empty. So I slid back the panel and entered.
Within, I was stricken by the multitudes of books. They always do that to me. I considered everything, including the display cases, and finally moved toward the place where a crystal case contained everything that led up to a family banquet — private joke. It held four decks of the family cards, and I sought about for a means of obtaining one without setting off an alarm which might keep me from using it.
After maybe ten minutes, I succeeded in gimmicking the proper case. It was tricky. Then, pack in hands, I found a comfortable seat for the consideration thereof.
The cards were just like Flora’s and they held us all under glass and were cold to the touch. Now, too, I knew why.
So I shuffled and spread them all out before me in the proper manner. Then I read them, and I saw that bad things were in store for the entire family; and I gathered them all together then.
Save for one.
It was the card depicting my brother Bleys. I replaced the others in their case and tucked it into my belt. Then I considered Bleys.
At about that time there came a scratching In the lock of the great door to the library. What could I do? I loosened my blade in its scabbard and waited. I ducked low behind the desk, though.
Peering out, I saw that it was a guy named Dik, who had obviously come to clean the place, as he set out emptying the ashtrays and wastebaskets and dusting the shelves.
Since it would be demeaning to be discovered, I exposed myself.
I rose and said, “Hello, Dik. Remember me?”
He turned three kinds of pale, half bolted, and said:
“Of course, Lord. How could I forget?”
“I suppose it would be possible, after all this time.”
“Never, Lord Corwin,” he replied.
“I suppose I’m here without official sanction, and engaged in a bit of illicit research,” I said “but if Eric doesn’t like it when you tell him that you saw me, please explain that I was simply exercising my rights, and he will be seeing me personally — soon.”
“I’ll do that, m’lord,” he said, bowing.
“Come sit with me a moment, friend Dik, and I’ll tell you more.”
And he did, so I did.
“There was a time,” I said, addressing this ancient visage, “when I was considered gone for good and abandoned forever. Since I still live, however, and since I maintain all my faculties, I fear that I must dispute Eric’s claim to the throne of Amber. Though it’s not a thing to be settled simply, as he is not the first-born, nor do I feel he would enjoy popular support if another were in sight. For these, among other reasons — most of them personal — I am about to oppose him. I have not yet decided how, nor upon what grounds, but by God! he deserves opposition! Tell him that. If he wishes to seek me, tell him that I dwell among Shadows, but different ones than before. He may know what I mean by that. I will not be easily destroyed, for I will guard myself at least as well as he does here. I will oppose him from hell to eternity, and I will not cease until one of us is dead. What say you to this, old retainer?”
And he took my hand and kissed it.
“Hail to thee, Corwin, Lord of Amber,” he said, and there was a tear in his eye.
Then the door cracked a crack behind him and swung open.
Eric entered.
“Hello,” said I, Rising and putting a most obnoxious twang to my voice. “I didn’t expect to meet with you this early in the game. How go things in Amber?”
And his eyes were wide with amaze and his voice heavy with that which men call sarcasm, and I can’t think of a better word, as he replied:
“Well, when it comes to things, Corwin. Poorly, on other counts, however.”
“Pity,” said I, “and how shall we put things aright?”
“I know a way,” he said, and then he glared at Dik, who promptly departed and closed the door behind him. I heard it snick shut.
Eric loosened his blade in its scabbard.
“You want the throne,” he said.
“Don’t we all?” I told him.
“I guess so,” he said, with a sigh. “It’s true, that uneasy-lies-the-head bit. I don’t know why we are driven to strive so for this ridiculous position. But you must recall that I’ve defeated you twice, mercifully granting you your life on a Shadow world the last occasion.”
“It wasn’t that merciful,” I said. “You know where you left me, to die of the plague. The first time, as I remember, it was pretty much a draw.”
“Then it is between the two of us now, Corwin,” he said. “I am your elder and your better. If you wish to try me at arms, I find myself suitably attired. Slay me, and the throne will probably be yours. Try it. I don’t think you can succeed, however. And I’d like to quit your claim right now. So come at me. Let’s see what you learned on the Shadow Earth.”
And his blade was in his hand and mine in mine.
I moved around the desk.
“What an enormous chutzpah you possess,” I told him. “What makes you better than the rest of us, and more fit to rule?”
“The fact that I was able to occupy the throne,” he replied. “Try and take it.”
And I did.
I tried a headcut, which he parried; and I parried his riposte to my heart and cut at his wrist.
He parried this and kicked a small stool between us. I set it aside, hopefully in the direction of his face, with my right toe, but it missed and he had at me again.
I parried his attack, and he mine. Then I lunged, was parried, was attacked, and parried again myself.
I tried a very fancy attack I’d learned in France, which involved a beat, a feint in quarte, a feint in sixte, and a lunge veering off into an attack on his wrist.