He studied the card.
“It seems the place I saw that time,” he said at length. “This solves our logistics problems. With one of us on either end of a Trump connection we can transport the troops right through, as we did that day from Kolvir to Gamath.”
I nodded.
“That is one of the reasons I showed it to you, to indicate my good faith. There may be another way, involving less risk than running our forces into the unknown. I want you to hold off on this venture until I have explored my way further.”
“I will have to hold off in any event, to obtain some intelligence concerning that place. We do not even know whether your automatic weapons will function there, do we?”
“No, I did not have one along to test.”
He pursed his lips.
“You really should have thought to take one and try it.”
“The circumstances of my departure did not permit this.”
“Circumstances?”
“Another time. It is not relevant here. You spoke of following the black road to its source…”
“Yes?”
“That is not its true source. Its real source lies in the true Amber, in the defect in the primal Pattern.”
“Yes, I understand that. Both Random and Ganelon have described your journey to the place of the true Pattern, and the damage you discovered there. I see the analogy, the possible connection —”
“Do you recall my flight from Avalon, and your pursuit?”
In answer, he only smiled faintly.
“There was a point where we crossed the black road,” I said. “Do you recall it?”
He narrowed his eyes.
“Yes,” he said. “You cut a path through it. The world had returned to normal at that point. I had forgotten.”
“It was an effect of the Pattern upon it,” I said, “one which I believe can be employed upon a much larger scale.”
“How much larger?”
“To wipe out the entire thing.”
He leaned back and studied my face.
“Then why are you not about it?”
“There are a few preliminaries I must undertake.”
“How much time will they involve?”
“Not too much. Possibly as little as a few days. Perhaps a few weeks.”
“Why didn’t you mention all of this sooner?”
“I only learned how to go about it recently.”
“How do you go about it?”
“Basically, it amounts to repairing the Pattern.”
“All right,” he said. “Say you succeed. The enemy will still be out there.”
He gestured toward Garnath and the black road.
“Someone gave them passage once.”
“The enemy has always been out there,” I said. “And it will be up to us to see that they are not given passage again — by dealing properly with those who provided it in the first place.”
“I go along with you on that,” he said, “but that is not what I meant. They require a lesson, Corwin. I want to teach them a proper respect for Amber, such a respect that even if the way is opened again they will fear to use it. That is what I meant. It is necessary.”
“You do not know what it would be like to carry a battle to that place, Benedict. It is — literally — indescribable.”
He smiled and stood.
“Then I guess I had best go see for myself,” he said. “I will keep this card for a time, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Good. Then you be on with your business about the Pattern, Corwin, and I will be about my own. This will take me some time, too. I must go give my commanders orders concerning my absence now. Let us agree that neither of us commence anything of a final nature without checking first with the other.”
“Agreed,” I said.
We finished our wine.
“I will be under way myself, very soon now,” I said. “So, good luck.”
“To you, also.” He smiled again. “Things are better,” he said, and he clasped my shoulder as he passed to the entrance. We followed him outside.
“Bring Benedict’s horse,” Ganelon directed the orderly who stood beneath a nearby tree; and turning, he offered Benedict his hand.
“I, too, want to wish you luck,” he said.
Benedict nodded and shook his hand.
“Thank you, Ganelon. For many things.”
Benedict withdrew his Trumps.
“I can bring Gerard up to date,” he said, “before my horse arrives.”
He riffled through them, withdrew one, studied it.
“How do you go about repairing the Pattern?” Ganelon asked me.
“I have to get hold of the Jewel of Judgment again,” I said. “With it, I can reinscribe the damaged area.”
“Is this dangerous?”
“Yes.”
“Where is the Jewel?”
“Back on the shadow Earth, where I left it.”
“Why did you abandon it?”
“I feared that it was killing me.”
He contorted his features into a near-impossible grimace.
“I don’t like the sound of this, Corwin. There must be another way.”
“If I knew a better way, I’d take it.”
“Supposing you just followed Benedict’s plan and took them all on? You said yourself that he could raise infinite legions in Shadow. You also said that he is the best man there is in the field.”
“Yet the damage would remain in the Pattern, and something else would come to fill it. Always. The enemy of the moment is not as important as our own inner weakness. If this is not mended we are already defeated, though no foreign conqueror stands within our walls.”
He turned away.
“I cannot argue with you. You know your own realm,” he said. “But I still feel you may be making a grave mistake by risking yourself on what may prove unnecessary at a time when you are very much needed.”
I chuckled, for it was Vialle’s word and I had not wanted to call it my own when she had said it.
“It is my duty,” I told him.
He did not reply.
Benedict, a dozen paces away, had apparently reached Gerard, for he would mutter something, then pause and listen. We stood there, waiting for him to conclude his conversation so that we could see him off.
“…Yes, he is here now,” I heard him say. “No, I doubt that very much. But —”
Benedict glanced at me several times and shook his head.
“No, I do not think so,” he said. Then, “All right, come ahead.”
He extended his new hand, and Gerard stepped into being, clasping it. Gerard turned his head, saw me, and immediately moved in my direction.
He ran his eyes up and down and back and forth across my entire person, as if searching for something.
“What is the matter?” I said.
“Brand,” he replied. “He is no longer in his quarters. At least, most of him isn’t. He left some blood behind. The place is also broken up enough to show there had been a fight.”
I glanced down at my shirt front and trousers.
“And you are looking for bloodstains? As you can see, these are the same things I had on earlier. They may be dirty and wrinkled, but that’s all.”
“That does not really prove anything,” he said.
“It was your idea to look. Not mine. What makes you think I —”
“You were the last one to see him,” he said.
“Except for the person be had a fight with — if he really did.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You know his temper, his moods. We had a small argument. He might have started breaking things up after I left, maybe cut himself, gotten disgusted, trumped out for a change of scene — Wait! His rug! Was there any blood on that small, fancy rug before his door?”
“I am not sure — no, I don’t think so. Why?”
“Circumstantial evidence that he did it himself. He was very fond of that rug. He avoided messing it.”