“Yes,” he said. “The black road appears to have stabilized its boundaries at most points. At a few others though, it is still widening. It is almost as if it is nearing a final conformity with some — pattern… Now tell me, from what point have you journeyed?”
“I spent last night in Tir-na Nog’th,” I said, “and this morning we went astray in crossing Kolvir.”
“Not an easy thing to do,” he said. “Getting lost on your own mountain. You keep heading east, you know. That is the direction from which the sun has been known to take its course.”
I felt my face flush.
“There was an accident,” I said, looking away. “We lost a horse.”
“What sort of accident?”
“A serious one — for the horse.”
“Benedict,” said Random, suddenly looking up from what I realized to be the pierced Trump, “what can you tell me concerning my son Martin?”
Benedict studied him for several moments before he spoke. Then, “Why the sudden interest?” he asked.
“Because I have reason to believe he may be dead,” he said. “If that is the case, I want to avenge it. If it is not the case — well, the thought that it might be has caused me some upset. If he is still living, I would like to meet him and talk with him.”
“What makes you think he might be dead?”
Random glanced at me. I nodded.
“Start with breakfast,” I said.
“While he is doing that, I’ll find us lunch,” said Ganelon, rummaging in one of the bags.
“The unicorn showed us the way…” Random began.
Chapter 3
We sat in silence. Random had finished speaking and Benedict was staring skyward over Gamath. His face betrayed nothing. I had long ago learned to respect his silence.
At length, he nodded, once, sharply, and turned to regard Random.
“I have long suspected something of this order,” he stated, “from things that Dad and Dworkin let fall over the years. I had the impression there was a primal Pattern which they had either located or created, situating our Amber but a shadow away to draw upon its forces. I never obtained any notion as to how one might travel to that place, however.” He turned back toward Gamath, gesturing with his chin. “And that, you tell me, corresponds to what was done there?”
“It seems to,” Random replied.
“…Brought about by the shedding of Martin’s blood?”
“I think so.”
Benedict raised the Trump Random had passed him during his narration. At that time, Benedict had made no comment.
“Yes,” he said now, “this is Martin. He came to me after he departed Rebma. He stayed with me a long while.”
“Why did he go to you?” Random asked.
Benedict smiled faintly.
“He had to go somewhere, you know,” he said. “He was sick of his position in Rebma, ambivalent toward Amber, young, free, and just come into his power through the Pattern. He wanted to get away, see new things, travel in Shadow — as we all did. I had taken him to Avalon once when he was a small boy, to let him walk on dry land of a summer, to teach him to ride a horse, to have him see a crop harvested. When he was suddenly in a position to go anywhere he would in an instant, his choices were still restricted to the few places of which he had knowledge. True, he might have dreamed up a place in that instant and gone there — creating it, as it were. But he was also aware that he still had many things to learn, to ensure his safety in Shadow. So he elected to come to me, to ask me to teach him. And I did. He spent the better part of a year at my place. I taught him to fight, taught him of the ways of the Trumps and of Shadow, instructed him in those things an Amberite must know if he is to survive.”
“Why did you do all these things?” Random asked.
“Someone had to. It was me that he came to, so it was mine to do,” Benedict replied. “It was not as if I were not very fond of the boy, though,” he added. Random nodded.
“You say that he was with you for almost a year. What became of him after that?”
“That wanderlust you know as well as I. Once he had obtained some confidence in his abilities, he wanted to exercise them. In the course of instructing him, I had taken him on journeys in Shadow myself, had introduced him to people of my acquaintance at various places. But there came a time when he wanted to make his own way. One day then, he bade me good-by and fared forth.”
“Have you seen him since?” Random asked.
“Yes. He returned periodically, staying with me for a time, to tell me of his adventures, his discoveries. It was always clear that it was just a visit. After a time, he would get restless and depart again.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“Several years ago, Avalon time, under the usual circumstances. He showed up one morning, stayed for perhaps two weeks, told me of the things he had seen and done, talked of the many things he wanted to do. Later, he set off once more.”
“And you never heard from him again?”
“On the contrary. There were messages left with mutual friends when he would pass their way. Occasionally, he would even contact me via my Trump —”
“He had a set of the Trumps?” I broke in.
“Yes, I made him a gift of one of my extra decks.”
“Did you have a Trump for him?” He shook his head.
“I was not even aware that such a Trump existed, until I saw this one,” he said, raising the card, glancing at it, and passing it back to Random. “I haven’t the art to prepare one. Random, have you tried reaching him with this Trump?”
“Yes, any number of times since we came across it. Just a few minutes ago, as a matter of fact. Nothing.”
“Of course that proves nothing. If everything occurred as you guessed and he did survive it, he may have resolved to block any future attempts at contact. He does know how to do that.”
“Did it occur as I guessed? Do you know more about it?”
“I have an idea,” Benedict said. “You see, he did show up injured at a friend’s place-off in Shadow some years ago. It was a body wound, caused by the thrust of a blade. They said he came to them in very bad shape and did not go into details as to what had occurred. He remained for a few days — until he was able to get around again — and departed before he was really fully recovered. That was the last they heard of him. The last that I did, also.”
“Weren’t you curious?” Random asked. “Didn’t you go looking for him?”
“Of course I was curious. I still am. But a man should have the right to lead his own life without the meddling of relatives, no matter how well-intentioned. He had pulled through the crisis and he did not attempt to contact me. He apparently knew what he wanted to do. He did leave a message for me with the Tecys, saying that when I learned of what had happened I was not to worry, that he knew what he was about.”
“The Tecys?” I said.
“That’s right. Friends of mine off in Shadow.”
I refrained from saying the things that I might. I had thought them just another part of Dara’s story, for she had so twisted the truth in other areas. She had mentioned the Tecys to me as if she knew them, as if she had stayed with them — all with Benedict’s knowledge. The moment did not seem appropriate, however, to tell him of my previous night’s vision in Tir-na Nog’th and the things it had indicated concerning his relationship to the girl. I had not yet had sufficient time to ponder the matter and all that it implied.
Random stood, paced, paused near the ledge, his back to us, fingers knotted behind him. After a moment, he turned and stalked back.