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."
"I don't buy it," Gerard said, "and Caine's death still looks peculiar-and Benedict's servants, who could have found out you wanted gunpowder. Now Brand-"
"This could well be another attempt to frame me," I said, "and Benedict and I have come to better terms."
He turned toward Benedict, who had not moved from where he stood a dozen paces away, regarding us without expression, listening.
"Has he explained away those deaths?" Gerard asked him.
"Not directly," Benedict answered, "but much of the rest of the story now stands in a better light. So much so, that I am inclined to believe all of it."
Gerard shook his head and glared down at me again.
"Still unsettled," he said. "What were you and Brand arguing about?"
"Gerard," I said, "that is our business, till Brand and I decide otherwise."
"I dragged him back to life and watched over him, Corwin. I didn't do it just to see him killed in a squabble."
"Use your brains," I told him. "Whose idea was it to search for him the way that we did? To bring him back?"
"You wanted something from him," he said. "You finally got it. Then he became an impediment."
"No. But even if that were the case, do you think I would be so damned obvious about it? If he has been killed, then it is on the same order as Caine's death-an attempt to frame me."
"You used the obviousness excuse with Caine, too. It seems to me it could be a kind of subtlety-a thing you are good at."
"We have been through this before, Gerard..."
"... And you know what I told you then."
"It would be difficult to have forgotten."
He reached forward and seized my right shoulder. I immediately drove my left hand into his stomach and pulled away. It occurred to me then that perhaps I should have told him what Brand and I had been talking about. But I didn't like the way he had asked me.
He came at me again. I side-stepped and caught him with a light left near the right eye. I kept jabbing after that, mainly to keep his head back. I was in no real shape to fight him again, and Grayswandir was back in the tent. I had no other weapon with me.
I kept circling him. My side hurt if I kicked with my left leg. I caught him once on the thigh with my right, but I was slow and off-balance and could not really follow through. I continued to jab.
Finally, he blocked my left and managed to drop his hand on my biceps. I should have pulled away then, but he was open. I stepped in with a heavy right to his stomach, all of my strength behind it. It bent him forward with a gasp, but his grip tightened on my arm. He blocked my attempted uppercut with his left, continuing its forward motion until the heel of his hand slammed against my chest, at the same time jerking my left arm backward and to the side with such force that I was thrown to the ground. If he came down on me, that was it.
He dropped to one knee and reached for my throat.
Chapter 9
I moved to block his hand, but it halted in midreach. Turning my head, I saw that another hand had fallen upon Gerard's arm, was now grasping it, was holding it back.
I rolled away. When I looked up again, I saw that Ganelon had caught hold of him. Gerard jerked his arm forward, but it did not come free.
"Stay out of this, Ganelon," he said.
"Get going, Corwin!" Ganelon said. "Get the Jewel!"
Even as he called out, Gerard was beginning to rise. Ganelon crossed with his left and connected with Gerard's jaw. Gerard sprawled at his feet. Ganelon moved in and swung a kick toward his kidney, but Gerard caught his foot and heaved him over backward. I scrambled back into a crouch, supporting myself with one hand.
Gerard came up off the ground and rushed Ganelon, who was just recovering his feet. As he was almost upon him, Ganelon came up with a double-fisted blow to Guard's midsection, which halted him in his tracks. Instantly, Ganelon's fists were moving like pistons against Gerard's abdomen. For several moments, Gerard seemed too dazed to protect himself, and when he finally bent and brought his arms in, Ganelon caught him with a right to the jaw that staggered him backward. Ganelon immediately rushed forward, throwing his arms about Gerard as he slammed into him and hooking his right leg behind Gerard's own. Gerard toppled and Ganelon fell upon him. He straddled Gerard then and drove his right fist against his jaw. When Gerard's head rolled back, Ganelon crossed with his left.
Benedict suddenly moved to intervene, but Ganelon chose that moment to rise to his feet. Gerard lay unconscious, bleeding from his mouth and nose. I got shakily to my own feet, dusted myself off. Ganelon grinned at me.
"Don't stay around," he said. "I don't know how I would do in a rematch. Go find the trinket."
I glanced at Benedict and he nodded. I returned to the tent for Grayswandir.
When I emerged, Gerard still had not moved, but Benedict stood before me.
"Remember," he said, "you've my Trump and I've yours. Nothing final without a conference."
I nodded. I was going to ask him why he had seemed willing to help Gerard, but not me. But second thoughts had me and I decided against spoiling our fresh-minted amity.
"Okay."
I headed toward the horses. Ganelon clapped me on the shoulder as I came up to him.
"Good luck," he said. "I'd go with you, but I am needed here-especially with Benedict trumping off to Chaos."
"Good show," I said. "I shouldn't have any trouble. Don't worry."
I went off to the paddock. Shortly, I was mounted and moving. Ganelon threw me a salute as I passed and I returned it. Benedict was kneeling beside Gerard.
I headed for the nearest trail into Arden. The sea lay at my back, Gamath and the black road to the left, Kolvir to my right. I had to gain some distance before I could work with the stuff of Shadow. The day lay clean once Gamath was lost to sight, several rises and dips later. I struck the trail and followed its long curve into the wood, where moist shadows and distant bird songs reminded me of the long periods of peace we had known of old and the silken, gleaming presence of the maternal unicorn.
My aches faded into the rhythm of the ride, and I thought once again of the encounter I had departed. It was not difficult to understand Gerard's attitude, since he had already told me of his suspicions and issued me a warning. Still, it was such bad timing for whatever had happened with Brand that I could not but see it as another action intended either to slow me or to stop me entirely. It was fortunate that Ganelon had been on hand, in good shape, and able to put his fists in the right places at the proper times. I wondered what Benedict would have done if there had only been the three of us present. I'd a feeling he would have waited and intervened only at the very last moment, to stop Gerard from killing me. I was still not happy with our accord, though it was certainly an improvement over the previous state of affairs.
All of which made me wonder again what had become of Brand. Had Fiona or Bleys finally gotten to him? Had he attempted his proposed assassinations single-handed and been met with a counterthrust, then dragged through his intended victim's Trump? Had his old allies from the Courts of Chaos somehow gotten through to him? Had one of his horny-handed guardians from the tower finally been able to reach him? Or had it been as I had suggested to Gerard—an accidental self-injury in a fit of rage, followed by an ill tempered flight from Amber to do his brooding and plotting elsewhere?