Nine Princes in Amber

by Roger Zelazny

  I moved along for as far as I could, then headed toward the right bank, exhaling as I rose.

  I burst through the surface, gasped, took a deep breath and went down again, without sticking around to get the lay of the land,

  I swam on till my lungs were bursting, and surfaced then.

  This time I wasn't quite so lucky. I took an arrow through my biceps. I managed to dive and break off the shaft when I struck bottom. Then I pulled out the head and continued on by means of the frog kick and underbody sculling with my right hand. The next time up I'd be a sitting duck, I knew.

  So I forced myself on, till the red flashes crossed my eyeballs and the blackness crept into my head. I must have stayed down for three minutes.

  When I surfaced this time, though, nothing happened, and I trod water and gasped.

  I made my way to the left bank and grabbed hold of the trailing undergrowth.

  I looked all around me. We were running short on trees at this point, and the fires hadn't gotten this far. Both banks seemed empty, but so did the river. Could I have been the only survivor? It didn't seem possible. After all, there had been so many of us when the last march began.

  I was half dead with fatigue and my entire body was laced with aches and pains. Every inch of my skin seemed to have been burned, but the waters were so cold that I was shaking and probably blue. I'd have to leave the river soon, if I wanted to live. I felt that I could manage a few more underwater expeditions, and I decided to chance them before departing from the sheltering depths.

  Somehow I managed four more laps, and I felt then that I might not come up again if I tried a fifth. So I hung onto a rock and caught my breath. then crawled ashore.

  I rolled onto my back and looked all around. I didn't recognize the locale. The fires hadn't reached it yet, though. There was a thick clump of bushes off to my right and I crawled toward it, crawled into it, fell flat on my face and went to sleep.

  When I awoke, I wished I hadn't. Every inch of me ached, and I was sick. I lay there for hours, half delirious, and finally managed to stagger back to the river for a long drink of water. Then I headed back for the thicket, made it, and slept again.

  I was still sore when consciousness came once more, but a little bit stronger. I walked to the river and back, and by means of my icy Trump found that Bleys was still alive.

  "Where are you?" he asked, when I had made the contact.

  "Damned if I know," I replied. "Lucky to be anywhere at all. Near the sea, though. I can hear the waves and I know the smell."

  "You're near the river?"

  "Yes."

  "Which bank?"

  "Left, as you'd face the sea. North."

  "Then stay put," he told me, "and I'll send someone after you. I'm assembling our forces now. I've already got over two thousand together, and Julian won't come near us. More keep straggling in every minute,"

  "Okay," I said, and that was it.

  I stayed put. I slept as I did so.

  I heard them bashing about in the bushes and was alert, I pushed some fronds aside and peered forth.

  It was three of the big red guys.

  So I straightened my gear and brushed all my garments, ran a hand through my hair, stood erect and swayed, took several deep breaths, and stepped forth,

  "I am here," I announced.

  Two of them did double-takes, blades in their hands, as I said it.

  But they recovered, smiled, paid me deference, and conducted me back to the camp. It was perhaps two miles distant. I made it without leaning.

  Bleys appeared and said, "We've got over three thousand now." Then he called for a medical officer to take care of me again.

  We were undisturbed all through the night, and the rest of our troops straggled in that night and the following day.

  We had perhaps five thousand by then. We could see Amber in the distance.

  We slept another night and on the following morning we set forth.

  By afternoon we had made maybe fifteen miles. We marched along the beach, and there was no sign of Julian anywhere.

  The feeling of pain from my burns began to subside. My thigh was healthy, but my shoulder and arm still hurt from here to hell and back again.

  We marched on, and soon we were within forty miles of Amber. The weather stayed clement and all of the wood to our left was a desolate, blackened ruin. The fire had destroyed most of the timber in the valley, so for once there was a thing in our favor. Julian nor anybody else could ambush us. We'd see them coming a mile off. We made another ten miles ere the sun fell and we bivouacked on the beach.

  The next day, I remembered that Eric's coronation was near at hand and I reminded Bleys. We had almost lost count of the days, but realized we still had a few remaining.

  We led a speed-march till noon. then rested. By then, we were twenty-five miles away from the foot of Kolvir. By twilight, the distance was ten.

  And we kept on. We marched till midnight and we bivouacked once again. By that time, I was beginning to feel fairly alive once more. I practiced a few cuts with my blade and could almost manage them. The next day, I felt even better.

  We marched until we came to the foot of Kolvir, where we were met by all of Julian's forces, combined with many from Caine's fleet who now stood as foot soldiers.

  Bleys stood there and called things, like Robert E. Lee at Chancellorsville, and we took them.

  We bad maybe three thousand men when we had finished off everything Julian had to throw against us. Julian, of course, escaped.

  But we had won. There was celebration that night. We had won.

  I was very afraid by then, and I made my fears known to Bleys. Three thousand men again Kolvir.

  I had lost the fleet, and Bleys had lost over ninety-eight percent of his foot soldiers. I did not look upon these as rejoiceable items.

  I didn't like it.

  But the next day we began the ascent. There was a stairway, allowing for the men to go two abreast along it. This would narrow soon, however, forcing us to go single file.

  We made it a hundred yards up Kolvir, then two, then three.

  Then the storm blew in from the sea, and we held tight and were lashed by it.

  Afterward, a couple of hundred men were missing.

  We struggled on and the rains came down. The way grew steeper, more slippery. A quarter of the way up Kolvir we met with a column of armed men descending. The first of these traded blows with the leaders of our vanguard, and two men fell. Two steps were gained, and another man fell.

  This went on for over an hour, and by then we were about a third of the way up and our line was wearing back toward Bleys and myself. It was good that our big red warriors were stronger than Eric's troops. There would come a clash of arms, a cry, and a man would be brought by. Sometimes he would be red, occasionally furry, but more often he wore Eric's colors.

  We made it to the halfway point, fighting for every step. Once we reached the top, there would be the broad stair of which the one to Rebma had been but an image. It would lead up to the Great Arch, which was the eastern entranceway to Amber.

  Perhaps fifty of our vanguard remained. Then forty, thirty, twenty, ...

  We were about two-thirds of the way up by then, and the stair zigged and zagged its way back and forth across the face of Kolvir. The eastern stair is seldom used. It is almost a decoration. Our original plans had been to cut through the now blackened valley and then circle, climbing, and to take the western way over the mountains and enter Amber from behind. The fire and Julian had changed all this. We'd never have made it up and around. It was now a frontal assault or nothing. And it wasn't going to be nothing.

  Three more of Eric's warriors fell and we gained four steps. Then our front man made the long descent and we lost one.

  The breeze was sharp and cool from off the sea, and birds were collecting at the foot of the mountain. The sun broke through the clouds, as Eric apparently put aside his weather making now that we were engaged with his force.
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  We gained six steps and lost another man.

  It was strange and sad and wild....

  Bleys stood before me, and soon his turn would come. Then mine, should he perish.

  Six of the vanguard remained,

  Ten steps...

  Then five remained.

  We pushed on, slowly, and there was blood on every step for as far back as I could see. There's a moral there, somewhere.

  The fifth man slew four before he fell himself, so bringing us to another zig, or zag, as the case may be.

  Onward and upward, our third man fighting with a blade in either hand. It was good that he fought in a holy war, for there was real zeal behind each blow. He took three before he died.

  The next wasn't as zealous, or as good with his blades. He fell immediately, and then there were two.

  Bleys drew his long, filigreed blade, and its edge sparkled in the sun.

  "Soon, brother," he said, "we will see what they can do against a prince."

  "Only one, I hope." I replied. and he chuckled.

  I'd say we were three-quarters of the way there when Bleys' turn finally came.

  He leaped forward, immediately dislodging the first man to face him. The point of his blade found the throat of the second, and the flat of it fell alongside the head of the third, dislodging him also. He dueled a moment with the fourth and dispatched him.

  My own blade was in my hand, ready, as I watched and advanced.

  He was good, even better than I remembered him to be. He advanced like a whirlwind, and his blade was alive with light. They fell before it-how they fell, my friend! Whatever else you might say of Bleys, on that day he acquitted himself as became his rank. I wondered how long he could keep going.

  He'd a dagger in his left hand, which he used with brutal efficiency whenever he could manage a corps à corps. He left it in the throat of his eleventh victim.

  I could see no end to the column which opposed us. I decided that it must stretch all the way to the landing at the top. I hoped my turn wouldn't come. I almost believed it.

  Three more men plummeted past me and we came to a small landing and a turn. He cleared the landing and began the ascent. For half an hour I watched him, and they died and they died. I could hear the murmurs of awe from the men behind me. I almost thought he could make it to the top.

  He used every trick available. He baffled blades and eyes with his cloak. He tripped the warriors. He seized wrists and twisted, with his full strength.

  We made it to another landing. There was some blood on his sleeve by then, but he smiled constantly, and the warriors behind the warriors he killed were ashen. This helped him, too. And perhaps the fact that I stood ready to fill the gap also contributed to their fears and so slowed them, worked on their nerves. They'd heard of the naval engagement, I later learned.

  Bleys worked his way to the next landing, cleared it, turned again, began to ascend. I hadn't thought he could make it that far, then. I didn't think I could make it as far as he had. It was the most phenomenal display of swordsmanship and endurance I'd seen since Benedict had held the pass above Arden against the Moonriders out of Ghenesh.

  He was tiring, though, I could see that, too. If only there were some way for me to relieve him, to spell him for a time.

  But there wasn't. So I followed, fearing every stroke might be his last.

  I knew that he was weakening. We were within a hundred feet of the top at that point.

  I suddenly felt for him. He was my brother and he'd done well by me. I don't think he thought he'd make it then, yet he was fighting on . . . in effect, giving me my chance for the throne.

  He killed three more men, and his blade moved more slowly each time. He fought with the fourth for perhaps five minutes before he took him. I was certain the next would he his last.

  He wasn't, though.

  As he slew that man, I transferred my blade from my right hand to my left, drew my dagger with my right and threw it.

  It went in up to the hilt, in the throat of the next man. Bleys sprang over two steps and hamstrung the man before him, casting him downward.

  Then he cut upward, ripping open the belly of the one behind that one.

  I rushed to fill the gap, to be tight behind him and ready. He didn't need me yet, though.

  He took the next two, with a new burst of energy. I called for another dagger and one was passed to me from somewhere along the line.

  I kept it ready till he slowed once more, and I used it on the man he fought.

  The man was lunging as it spun in, so the hilt rather than the blade caught him. It struck against his head, though, and Bleys pushed against his shoulder and he fell. But the next man leaped forward, and though he impaled himself, he struck Bleys upon the shoulder and they went over the edge together.

  By reflex, almost without knowing what I was doing, yet knowing fully in one of those microsecond decisions you justify after the fact, my left hand leaped to my belt, whipped out my pack of the Trumps and cast them toward Bleys as he seemed to hang there for an instant-so rapidly did my muscles and perceptions respond-and I cried out, "Catch them, you fool!"

  And he did.

  I didn't have time to see what happened next, as I parried and thrust.

  Then began the final lap of our journey up Kolvir.

  Let's just say I made it and was gasping, as my troops came over the edge to support me there on the landing.

  We consolidated our forces and pressed ahead.

  It took us an hour to reach the Great Arch.

  We passed through. We entered Amber.

  Wherever Eric was, I'm sure he'd never guessed we'd make it this far.

  And I wondered where Bleys was? Had he gotten a chance to grab a Tramp and use it, before he reached the bottom? I guessed that I'd never know.

  We had underestimated, all the way around. We were outnumbered now, and the only thing left to do was to fight on for as long as we could hold out. Why had I done such a foolish thing as throw Bleys my Trumps? I knew he had none of his own and that's what had dictated my response, conditioned perhaps by my years on the Shadow Earth, But I might have used them to escape, if things went badly.

  Things went badly.

  We fought on until twilight, and by then there was only a small band of us remaining.

  We were surrounded at a point a thousand yards within Amber, and still far from the palace. We were fighting a defensive fight, and one by one we died. We were overwhelmed.

  Llewella or Deirdre would have given me sanctuary. Why had I done it?

  I killed another man and put the question out of my mind.

  The sun went down and darkness filled the sky. We were down to a few hundred by then, and not much closer to the palace.

  Then I saw Eric and heard him shouting orders. If only I could reach him!

  But I couldn't.

  I'd probably have surrendered, to save my remaining troops, who had served me far too well.

  But there was no one to surrender to, no one asking for a surrender. Eric couldn't even hear me if I cried out. He was out of the way, directing. So we fought on, and I was down to a hundred men.

  Let's be brief.

  They killed everyone but me.

  At me they threw nets and unleashed blunted arrows.

  Finally, I fell and was clubbed and hog-tied, and then everything went away but a nightmare which attached itself and wouldn't let go, no matter what.

  We had lost.

  I awoke in a dungeon far below Amber, sorry that I had made it that far.

  The fact that I still lived meant that Eric had plans for me. I visualized racks and braces, flames and tongs. I foresaw my coming degradation as I lay there on the damp straw.

  How long had I been unconscious? I did not know.

  I searched my cell for a means of committing suicide. I found nothing that would serve this purpose.

  All my wounds blazed like suns, and I was so very tired.

  I lay me down and slep
t once more.

  I awakened, and still no one came to me. There was none to buy, none to torture.

  Also, there was nothing for me to eat.

  I lay there, wrapped in my cloak, and I reviewed everything that had happened since I'd awakened in Greenwood and refused my hypo. Better, perhaps, if I hadn't.

  I knew despair.

  Soon Eric would be crowned king in Amber. This thing might already have occurred.

  But sleep was so lovely a thing, and I so tired.

  It was the first real chance I'd had to rest and forget my wounds.

  The cell was so dark arid smelly and damp.

  Chapter 8

  How many times I awakened and returned to sleep, I do not know. Twice I found bread and meat and water on a tray by the door. Both times, I emptied the tray. My cell was almost pitch dark and very chilly. I waited there, and I waited.

  Then they came for me.

  The door swung open and a feeble light entered. I blinked at it as I was called forth.

  The corridor without was filled to overflowing with armed men, so I wasn't about to try anything.

  I rubbed at the stubble on my chin and went where they took me.

  After a long walk, we came to the hall of the spiral stair and began to ascend. I asked no questions as we moved, and no one offered me any information.

  When we reached the top, I was conducted further into the palace proper. They took me to a warm, clean room and ordered me to strip, which I did. Then I entered a steaming tub of water, and a servant came forth and scrubbed me and shaved me and trimmed my hair.

  When I was dry again, I was given fresh garments, of black and of silver.

  I donned them, and a black cloak was hung about my shoulders, its clasp a silver rose.

  "You are ready," said the sergeant of the guard. "Come this way."

  I followed him, and the guard followed me.

  I was taken far to the back of the palace where a smith placed manacles about my wrists, fetters on my ankles, with chains upon them too heavy for me to break. Had I resisted, I knew I would have been beaten unconscious and the result would have been the same. I had no desire to be beaten unconscious again, so I complied.

  Then the chains were taken up by several of the guards, and I was led back toward the front of the palace. I had no eyes for the magnificence that lay all about me. I was a prisoner. I would probably soon be dead or on the rack. There was nothing I could do right now. A glance out of the window showed me that it was early evening, and there was no place for nostalgia as I passed through rooms where we had played as children.