“When are the services?” I asked.
“Redsky next, almost a whole turning off,” he replied. “So you’ve a chance to sleep and collect yourself before then—perhaps.”
“What do you mean, ‘perhaps’?”
“As one of the three, you’re under black watch. That’s why I summoned you here, to one of my places of solitude.” He turned and walked through the wall. I followed him, still bearing my flagon, and we seated ourselves beside a still, green pool beneath a rocky overhang, umber sky above. His castle contained places from all over Chaos and Shadow, stitched together into a crazy-quilt pattern of ways within ways. “And since you wear the spikard you’ve added resources for safety,” he observed.
He reached out and touched the many-spoked wheel of my ring. A faint tingling followed in my finger, hand, and arm.
“Uncle, you were often given to cryptic utterances when you were my teacher,” I said. “But I’ve graduated now, and I guess that gives me the right to say I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
He chuckled and sipped his beer.
“On reflection, it always became clear,” he said.
“Reflection . . . ” I said, and I looked into the pool. Images swam amid the black ribbons beneath its surface—Swayvill lying in state, yellow and black robes muffling his shrunken form, my mother, my father, demonic forms, all passing and fading, Jurt, myself, Jasra and Julia, Random and Fiona, Mandor and Dworkin, Bill Roth and many faces I did not know. . . .
I shook my head.
“Reflection does not clarify,” I said.
“It is not the function of an instant,” he replied.
So I returned my attention to the chaos of faces and forms. Jurt returned and remained for a long time. He was dressing himself, in very good taste, and he appeared to be relatively intact. When he finally faded there returned one of the half familiar faces I had seen earlier. I knew he was a noble of the Courts, and I searched my memory. Of course. It had been a long while, but now I recognized him. It was Tmer, of the House of Jesby, eldest son of the late Prince Rolovians, and now lord himself of the Ways of Jesby—spade beard, heavy brow, sturdily built, not unhandsome, in a rugged sort of way; by all report a brave and possibly even sensitive fellow.
Then there was Prince Tubble of the Ways of Chanicut, phasing back and forth between human and swirling demonic forms. Placid, heavy, subtle; centuries old and very shrewd; he wore a fringed beard, had wide, innocent, pale eyes, was master of many games.
I waited, and Tmer followed Jurt followed Tubble into vanishment amid the coiling ribbons. I waited longer, and nothing new occurred.
“End of reflection,” I announced at last. “But I still don’t know what it means.”
“What did you see?”
“My brother Jurt,” I replied, “and Prince Tmer of Jesby. And Tubble of Chanicut, among other attractions.”
“Most appropriate,” he responded. “Entirely appropriate.”
“And so?”
“Like you, Tmer and Tubble are both under black watch. I understand Tmer is at Jesby, though I believe Jurt has gone to earth somewhere other than Dalgarry.”
“Jurt’s come back?”
He nodded.
“He could be at my mother’s Fortress Gantu,” I mused. “Or, Sawall did have a second stead—the Ways of Anch, at the very Rim.”
Suhuy shrugged.
“I do not know,” he said.
“But why the black watch—for any of us?”
“You went off into Shadow to a fine university,” he said, “and you have dwelled in the Court of Amber, which I would deem highly educational. Therefore, I bid you take thought. Surely, a mind so well honed—”
“I realize the black watch means we face some sort of danger. . . . ”
“Of course.”
“ . . . But its nature eludes me. Unless . . . ”
“Yes.”
“It has to do with Swayvill’s death. So it must involve some sort of political settlement. But I’ve been away. I don’t know what matters are hot just now.”
He showed me row upon row of worn but still nasty fangs.
“Try the matter of the succession,” he said.
“Okay. Say the Ways of Sawall are supporting one possible successor, Jesby the other, Chanicut the other. Say we’re at each other’s throats over the matter. Say I’ve come back into the middle of a vendetta. So whoever’s giving the orders right now has declared us under watch as a matter of keeping things from getting messy. I appreciate it.”
“Close,” he said, “but it’s already gone further than that.”
I shook my head.
“I give up,” I said.
From somewhere there came up a wailing sound. “Think about it,” he replied, “while I welcome a guest.”
He rose and stepped into the pool, vanishing immediately.
I finished my beer.
Chapter 2
It seemed but moments later that a rock to my left shimmered and emitted a bell-like tone. Without conscious intent my attention gathered itself at my ring, which Suhuy had referred to as a spikard. I realized in that instant that I was preparing to use it to defend myself. Interesting, how familiar I felt with it now, how adapted I seemed to have become to it in so short a time. I was on my feet, facing the stone, left hand extended in its direction when Suhuy stepped through the shining place, a taller, darker figure at his rear. A moment later and that figure followed him, emerging into substantiality and shifting from an octopal ape form to that of my brother Mandor, humanized, wearing black as when last I had seen him, though the garments were fresh and of a slightly different cut, his white hair less tousled. He quickly scanned the area about us and gave me a smile.
“I see that all is well,” he stated.
I chuckled as I nodded toward his arm in its sling.
“As well as might be expected,” I replied. “What happened in Amber after I left?”
“No fresh disasters,” he answered. “I stayed only long enough to see whether there was anything I could do to be of assistance. This amounted to a little magical clearing of the vicinity and the summoning of a few planks to lay over holes. Then I begged leave of Random to depart, he granted it, and I came home.”
“A disaster? At Amber?” Suhuy asked.
I nodded.
“There was a confrontation between the Unicorn and the Serpent in the halls of Amber Palace, resulting in considerable damage.”
“What could have occasioned the Serpent’s venturing that far into the realm of Order?”
“It involved what Amber refers to as the Jewel of Judgment, which the Serpent considers its missing eye.”
“I must hear the entire tale.”
I proceeded to tell him of the complicated encounter, leaving out my own later experiences in the Corridor of Mirrors and Brand’s apartments. While I spoke, Mandor’s gaze drifted to the spikard, to Suhuy, and back. When he saw that I noted this he smiled.
“So Dworkin is himself once more . . . ?” Suhuy said.
“I didn’t know him before,” I replied. “But he seemed to know what he was about.”
“ . . . And the Queen of Kashfa sees with the Eye of the Serpent.”
“I don’t know that she sees with it,” I said. “She’s still recovering from the operation. But that’s an interesting thought. If she could see with it, what might she behold?”
“The clear, cold lines of eternity, I daresay. Beneath all Shadow. No mortal could bear it for too long.”
“She is of the blood of Amber,” I said.
“Really? Oberon’s?”
I nodded.
“Your late liege was a very active man,” he observed. “Still, it would be quite a burden of seeing, though I speak only from guesswork—and a certain knowledge of principles. I’ve no idea what may come of this. Only Dworkin could say. Be he sane, there is a reason for it. I acknowledge his mastery, though I’ve never been able to anticipate him.”
“You know him, personally?” I asked.
“I knew him,” he said, “long ago, before his troubles. And I do not know whether to rejoice or despair in this. Recovered, he may be working for the greater good. Then again, his interests may be totally partisan.”
“Sorry I can’t enlighten you,” I said. “I find his actions cryptic, too.”
“I’m baffled also,” Mandor said, “by the disposition of the Eye. But it still sounds pretty much a local matter, involving Amber’s relations with Kashfa and Begma. I don’t see that there is anything to be gained at this point by speculation. It’s better keeping most of our attention for more pressing local matters.”
I felt myself sigh.
“Such as the succession?” I suggested. Mandor quirked an eyebrow.
“Oh, Lord Suhuy has briefed you already?”
“No,” I replied. “No, but I heard so much from my father of the succession in Amber, with all its cabals, intrigues, and double crosses, that I almost feel an authority on the subject. I imagine it could be that way here, too, among the Houses of Swayvill’s descendants, there being many more generations involved.”
“You have the right idea,” he said, “though I think the picture might be a bit more orderly here than it was there.”
“That’s something, anyway,” I said. “For me, I intend to pay my respects and get the hell out. Send me a postcard telling me how it gets settled.”
He laughed. He seldom laughs. I felt my wrist prickle where Frakir usually rides.
“He really doesn’t know,” he said, glancing at Suhuy.
“He’s just arrived,” Suhuy answered. “I hadn’t the time to tell him anything.”
I groped in my pocket, located a coin, withdrew it, and flipped it.
“Heads,” I announced, on inspection. “You tell me, Mandor. What’s going on?”
“You’re not next in line for the throne,” he said. It being my turn to laugh, I did.
“I already knew that,” I said. “You told me not that long ago, over dinner, how long the line was before me—if someone of my mixed blood could be considered at all.”
“Two,” he said. “Two stand before you.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “What happened to all the others?”
“Dead,” he replied.
“Bad year for the flu?”
He gave me a nasty smile.
“There has been an unprecedented number of fatal duels and political assassinations recently.”
“Which sort dominated the field?”
“The assassinations.”
“Fascinating.”
“ . . . And so you three are under black watch protection of the Crown, and were given into the care of your respective Houses’ security.”
“You’re serious.”
“Indeed.”
“Was this sudden thinning of the ranks a matter of many people simultaneously seeking advancement? Or was it a smaller number, removing roadblocks?”
“The Crown is uncertain.”
“When you say ‘the Crown,’ who, exactly, are you referring to, right now? Who’s making decisions in the interim?”
“Lord Bances of Amblerash,” he replied, “a distant relative and longtime friend of our late monarch.”
“I sort of recall him. Could he have an eye on the throne himself, and be behind any of the—removals?”
“The man’s a priest of the Serpent. Their vows bar them from reigning anywhere.”
“There are usually ways around vows.”
“True, but the man seems genuinely uninterested in such a thing.”
“That needn’t preclude his having a favorite, and maybe helping him along a bit. Is anybody near the throne particularly fond of his Order?”
“To my knowledge, no.”
“Which doesn’t mean someone mightn’t have cut a deal.”
“No, though Bances isn’t the sort of man one would approach easily with a proposition.”
“In other words, you believe he’s above whatever’s going on?”
“In the absence of evidence to the contrary.”
“Who is next in line?”
“Tubble of Chanicut.”
“Who’s second?”
“Tmer of Jesby.”
“Top of the line, your pool,” I said to Suhuy.
He showed me his teeth again. They seemed to rotate. “Are we at vendetta with either Chanicut or Jesby?” I asked.
“Not really.”
“We’re all just taking care then, huh?”
“Yes.”
“How did it all come to this? I mean, there were a lot of people involved, as I recall. Was it a night of the long knives, or what?”
“No, the deaths have been occurring steadily for some time. There wasn’t a sudden bloodbath when Swayvill took his turn for the worse—though a few did occur just recently.”
“Well, there must have been some investigation. Do we have any of the perps in custody?”
“No, they either escaped or were killed.”
“What of those who were killed? Their identities might indicate their political affiliations.”
“Not really. Several were professionals. A couple of others were general malcontents, arguably among the mentally ill.”
“You’re saying there are no clues as to who might be behind it all?”
“That’s right.”
“What about suspicions then?”
“Tubble himself is of course suspect, though it is not a good idea to say it aloud. He stood to benefit the most, and now he’s in a position to do so. Also, there is much in his career of political connivance, double-dealing, assassination. But that was long ago. Everyone has a few skeletons in the cellar. He has been a quiet and conservative man for many years.”
“Tmer, then—He’s close enough to generate suspicion. Is there anything to connect him with the bloody business?”
“Not really. His affairs are hardly open. He’s a very private man. But he was never associated with such extremes in the past. I do not know him all that well, but he has always struck me as a simpler, more direct person than Tubble. He seems the sort who’d simply attempt a coup if he wanted the throne badly enough, rather than spend a lot of time intriguing.”
“There could, of course, be a number of people involved, each acting in his own interest—”
“And now that the matter is imminent they’ll have to surface soon?”
“It would seem so, wouldn’t it?”
A smile. A shrug.
“No reason for a coronation to end it all,” he said.
“A crown does not automatically make a person dagger-proof.”
“But the successor would come to power with a lot of bad baggage.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time in history. And if you stop to think about it, some very good monarchs have come to power under such a cloud. By the way, has it occurred to you that the others might be speculating along these lines about you?”
“Yes, and it makes me uncomfortable. My father wanted the throne of Amber for a long time, and it really messed up his life. He was only happy when he said the hell with it. If I learned anything from his story, that’s it. I have no such ambition.”
But for a moment, I wondered. What would it feel like to control a massive state? Every time I complained about politics, here, in Amber, back in the States on the Shadow Earth, there was the automatic corollary of considering the way I’d manage situations if I were in charge.
“I wonder?” Mandor repeated.
I glanced downward.
“Perhaps the others are looking into their own scrying pools just now,” I said, “hoping for clues.”
“Doubtless,” he responded. “What if Tubble and Tmer did meet untimely ends? What would you do?”
“Don’t even think about it,” I said. “It won’t happen.”
“Suppose.”
“I don’t know.”
“You really should make some sort of d
ecision, just to have it out of the way. You’re never at a loss for words when you know your own mind.”
“Thanks. I’ll remember that.”
“Tell me more of your story, since last we met.”
And so I did, Pattern ghosts and all.
Somewhere near the end the wailing sound began again. Suhuy moved toward the rock.
“Excuse me,” he said, and the rock parted and he passed within.
Immediately, I felt Mandor’s gaze heavy upon me. “We probably only have a moment,” he said. “Not enough time, really, to go into everything I wanted to cover with you.”
“Very private, huh?”
“Yes. So you must arrange to dine with me before the funeral. Say, a quarter-turning hence, bluesky.”
“All right. Your place, or the Ways of Sawall?”
“Come to me at Mandorways.”
The rock phased again as I nodded, and a lithe demonic figure entered, shimmering bluely within a veil of cloud. I was on my feet in an instant, then bowing to kiss the hand she extended.
“Mother,” I said. “I hadn’t anticipated the pleasure—this soon.”
She smiled, and then it went away in a swirl. The scales faded, the contours of her face and form flowed. The blue went away into a normal though pale flesh color. Her hips and shoulders widened as she lost something of height, though still remained tall. Her brown eyes grew more attractive as the heavy brow ridges receded. A few freckles became visible across her now-human, slightly upturned nose. Her brown hair was longer than when last I had seen her in this form. And she was still smiling. Her red tunic became her, simply belted; a rapier hung at her left hip.
“My dear Merlin,” she said, taking my head between her hands and kissing me upon the lips. “I am pleased to see you looking so well. It has been quite a while since last you visited.”
“I’ve had a very active existence of late.”
“To be sure,” she said. “I’ve heard some report of your various misadventures.”
The Chronicles of Amber Page 170
