Guns Of Avalon
Chapter 3

    I thought back, one morning, upon all that had gone before. I thought of my brothers and sisters as though they were playing cards, which I knew was wrong. I thought back to the rest home where I had awakened, back to the battle for Amber, back to my walking the Pattern in Rebma, and back to that time with Moire, who just might be Eric's by now. I thought of Bleys and of Random, Deirdre, Caine, Gerard, and Eric, that morning. It was the morning of the battle, of course, and we were camped in the hills near the Circle. We had been attacked several times along the way, but they had been brief, guerrilla affairs. We had dispatched our assailants and continued. When we reached the area we had decided upon, we made our camp, posted guards, and retired. We slept undisturbed. I awoke wondering whether my brothers and sisters thought of me as I thought of them. It was a very sad thought.
    In the privacy of a small grove, my helmet filled with soapy water, I shaved my beard. Then I dressed, slowly, in my private and tattered colors. I was as hard as stone, dark as soil, and mean as hell once more. 
    Today would be the day. I donned my visor, put on chain mail, buckled my belt, and hung Grayswandir at my side. Then I fastened my cloak at my neck with a silver rose and was discovered by a messenger who had been looking for me to tell me that things were about ready.
    I kissed Lorraine, who had insisted on coming along. Then I mounted my horse, a roan named Star, and rode off toward the front.
    There I met with Ganelon and with Lance. They said, "We are ready."
    I called for my officers and briefed them. They saluted, turned and rode away. "Soon," said Lance, lighting his pipe. 
    "How is your arm?"
    "Fine, now," he replied, "after that workout you gave it yesterday. Perfect." I opened my visor and lit my own pipe.
    "You've shaved your beard," said Lance. "I cannot picture you without it." 
    "The helm fits better this way," I said.
    "Good fortune to us all," said Ganelon. 
    "I know no gods, but if any care to be with us, I welcome them." 
    "There is but one God," said Lance. "I pray that He be with us."
    "Amen," said Ganelon, lighting his pipe. "For today." 
    "It will be ours," said Lance.
    "Yes," said I, as the sun stirred the east and the birds of morning the air, "it has that feel to it." We emptied our pipes when we had finished and tucked them away at our belts. Then we secured ourselves with final tightenings and claspings of our armor and Ganelon said, "Let us be about it."
    My officers reported back to me. My sections were ready.
    We filed down the hillside, and we assembled outside the Circle. Nothing stirred within it, and no troops were visible.
    "I wonder about Corwin," Ganelon said to me.
    "He is with us," I told him, and he looked at me strangely, seemed to notice the rose for the first time, then nodded brusquely.
    "Lance," he said, when we had assembled. "Give the order."
    And Lance drew his blade. His cried "Charge!" echoed about us.

    We were half a mile inside the Circle before anything happened. There were five hundred of us in the lead, all mounted. A dark cavalry appeared, and we met them. After five minutes, they broke and we rode on. Then we heard the thunder.
    There was lightning, and the rain began to fall.
    The thunderhead had finally broken.
    A thin line of foot soldiers, pikemen mainly, barred our way, waiting stoically. Maybe we all smelled the trap, but we bore down upon them. Then the cavalry hit our flanks.
    We wheeled, and the fighting began in earnest. It was perhaps twenty minutes later. . . We held out, waiting for the main body to arrive. Then the two hundred or so of us rode on. . .
    Men. It was men that we slew, that slew us-grayfaced, dour-countenanced men. I wanted more. One more...
    Theirs must have been a semi-metaphysical problem in logistics. How much could be diverted through this Gateway? I was not sure. Soon . . .
    We topped a rise, and far ahead and below us lay a dark citadel.
    I raised my blade.
    As we descended, they attacked.
    They hissed and they croaked and they flapped. That meant, to me, that he was running low on people. Grayswandir became a flame in my hand, a thunderbolt, a portable electric chair. I slew them as fast as they approached, and they burned as they died. To my right, I saw Lance draw a similar line of chaos, and he was muttering beneath his breath. Prayers for the dead, no doubt. To my left, Ganelon laid about him, and a wake of fires followed behind his horse's tail. Through the flashing lightning, the citadel loomed larger.
    The hundred or so of us stormed ahead, and the abominations fell by the wayside.
    When we reached the gate, we were faced by an infantry of men and beasts. We charged.
    They outnumbered us, but we had little choice. Perhaps we had proceeded our own infantry by too much. But I thought not. Time, as I saw it, was all important now.
    "I've got to get through!" I cried. "He's inside!"
    "He's mine!" said Lance.
    "You're both welcome to him!" said Ganelon, laying about him. "Cross when you can! I'm with you!" 
    We slew and we slew and we slew, and then the tide turned in their favor. They pressed us, all the ugly things that were more or less than human, mixed in with human troops. We were drawn up into a tight knot, defending ourselves on all sides, when our bedraggled infantry arrived and began hacking. We pressed for the gate once more and made it this time, all forty or fifty of us.
    We won through, and then there were troops in the courtyard to be slain.
    The dozen or so of us who made it to the foot of the dark tower were faced by a final guard contingent.
    "Go it!" cried Ganelon, as we leaped from our horses and waded into them.
    "Go it!" cried Lance, and I guess they both meant me, or each other.
    I took it to mean me, and I broke away from the fray and raced up the stairs.
    He would be there, in the highest tower, I knew; and I would have to face him, and face him down. I did not know whether I could, but I had to try, because I was the only one who knew where he really came from-and I was the one who put him there.
    I came to a heavy wooden door at the top of the stairs. I tried it, but it was secured from the other side. So I kicked it as hard as I could. It fell inward with a crash.
    I saw him there by the window, a man-formed body dressed in light armor, goat head upon those massive shoulders.
    I crossed the threshold and stopped.
    He had turned to stare as the door had fallen, and now he sought my eyes through steel.
    "Mortal man, you have come too far," he said. "Or are you mortal man?" and there was a blade in his hand.
    "Ask Strygalldwir," I said.
    "You are the one who slew him," he stated. "Did he name you?" 
    "Maybe."
    There were footsteps on the stairs behind me. I stepped to the left of the doorway.
    Ganelon burst into the chamber and I called "Halt!" and he did.
    He turned to me.
    "This is the thing," he said. "What is it?" 
    "My sin against a thing I loved," I said. "Stay away from it. It's mine." 
    "You're welcome to it." He stood stock still.
    "Did you really mean that?" asked the creature.
    "Find out," I said, and leaped forward.
    But it did not fence with me. Instead, it did what any mortal fencer would consider foolish.
    It buried its blade at me, point forward, like a thunderbolt. And the sound of its passage came like a clap of thunder. The elements outside the tower echoed it, a deafening response.
    With Grayswandir, I parried that blade as though it were an ordinary thrust. It embedded itself in the floor and burst into flames. Without, the lightning responded.
    For an instant, the light was as blinding as a magnesium flare, and in that moment the creature was upon me.
    It pinned my arms to my sides, and its horns struck against my visor, once, twice...
    Then I threw my strength against those arms, and their grip began to weaken.
    I dropped Grayswandir, and with a final heave broke the hold it had upon me.
    In that moment, however, our eyes met.
    Then we both struck, and we both reeled back.
    "Lord of Amber," it said then, "why do you strive with me? It was you who gave us this passage, this way..." 
    "I regret a rash act and seek to undo it." 
    "Too late-and this a strange place to begin." It struck again, so quickly that it got through my guard. I was slammed back against the wall. Its speed was deadly.
    And then it raised its hand and made a sign, and I had a vision of the Courts of Chaos come upon me- a vision that made my hackles rise, made a chill wind blow across my soul, to know what I had done.
    "You see?" it was saying. "You gave us this Gateway. Help us now, and we will restore to you that which is yours."
    For a moment I was swayed. It was possible that it could do just what it had offered, if I would help.
    But it would be a threat forever after. Allies briefly, we would be at each other's throats after we got what we wanted-and those dark forces would be much stronger by then. Still, if I held the city. . .
    "Do we have a bargain?" came the sharp, near-bleat of the question.
    I thought upon the shadows, and of the places beyond Shadow...
    Slowly, I reached up and unbuckled my helm . . .
    Then I hurled it, just as the creature seemed to relax. I think Ganelon was moving forward by then.
    I leaped across the chamber and drove it back against the wall.
    "No!" I cried.
    Its manlike hands found my throat at about the same instant mine wrapped about its own.
    I squeezed, with all my strength, and twisted. I guess it did the same.
    I heard something snap like a dry stick. I wondered whose neck had broken. Mine sure hurt.

    I opened my eyes and there was the sky. I was lying on my back on a blanket on the ground.
    "I'm afraid he's going to live," said Ganelon, and I turned my head, slowly, in the direction of his voice.
    He was seated on the edge of the blanket, sword across his knees. Lorraine was with him. 
    "How goes it?" I said.
    "We've won," he told me. "You've kept your promise. When you killed that thing, it was all over. The men fell senseless, the creatures burned." 
    "Good."
    "I have been sitting here wondering why I no longer hate you." 
    "Have you reached any conclusions?"
    "No, not really. Maybe it's because we're a lot alike. I don't know." I smiled at Lorraine.
    "I'm glad you're very poor when it comes to prophecy. The battle is over and you're still alive." 
    "The death has already begun," she said, not returning my smile.
    "What do you mean?"
    "They still tell stories of how the Lord Corwin had my grandfather executed-drawn and quartered publicly-for leading one of the early uprisings against him." 
    "That wasn't me," I said. "It was one of my shadows."
    But she shook her head and said, "Corwin of Amber, I am what I am," and she rose and left me then.
    "What was it?" asked Ganelon, ignoring her departure. "What was the thing in the tower?" 
    "Mine," I said; "one of those things which was released when I laid my curse upon Amber. I opened the way then for that which lies beyond Shadow to enter the real world. The paths of least resistance are followed in these things, through the shadows to Amber. Here, the path was the Circle. Elsewhere, it might be some different thing. I have closed their way through this place now. You may rest easy here." 
    "That is why you came here?"
    "No," I said. "Not really. I was but passing on the road to Avalon when I came upon Lance. I could not let him lie there, and after I took him to you I became involved in this piece of my handiwork."
    "Avalon? Then you lied when you said it was destroyed?" 
    I shook my head.
    "Not so. Our Avalon fell, but in Shadow I may find its like once more." 
    "Take me with you." 
    "Are you mad?"
    "No, I would look once again on the land of my birth, no matter what the peril."
    "I do not go to dwell there," I said, "but to arm for battle. In Avalon there is a pink powder the jewelers use. I ignited a sample of it one time in Amber. I go there only to obtain it and to build guns that I may lay siege to Amber and gain the throne that is mine."
    "What. of those things from beyond Shadow you spoke of."
    "I will deal with them afterwards. Should I lose this time, then they are Eric's problem."
    "You said that he had blinded you and cast you into the dungeons."
    "That is true. I grew new eyes. I escaped."
    "You are a demon."
    "This has often been said. I no longer deny it."
    "You will take me with you?"
    "If you really wish to come. It will differ from the Avalon you knew, however."
    "To Amber!"
    "You are mad!"
    "No. Long have I wished to look upon that fabled city. After I have seen Avalon once again I will want to turn my hand to something new. Was I not a good general?" 
    "Yes."
    "Then you will teach me of these things you call guns, and I will help you in the greatest battle. I've not too many good years remaining before me, I know. Take me with you."
    "Your bones may bleach at the foot of Kolvir, beside my own." 
    "What battle is certain? I will chance it"
    "As you would. You may come." 
    "Thank you. Lord."
    We camped there that night, rode back to the keep in the morning. Then I sought after Lorraine. I learned that she had run off with one other former lovers, an officer named Melkin. Although she had been upset, I resented the fact that she had not given me the opportunity to explain something of which she only knew rumors. I decided to follow them.
    I mounted Star, turned my stiff neck in the direction they had supposedly taken, and rode on after. In a way, I could not blame her. I had not been received back at the keep as the slayer of the horned one might have been were he anyone else. The stories of their Corwin lingered on, and the demon tag was on all of them. The men I had worked with, fought beside, now looked at me with glances holding something more than fear- glances only, for they quickly dropped their eyes or turned them to another thing. Perhaps they feared that I wished to stay and reign over them. They might have been relieved, all save Ganelon, when I took to the trail. Ganelon, I think, feared that I would not return for him as I had promised. This, I feel, is the reason that he offered to ride with me. But it was a thing that I had to do by myself.
    Lorraine had come to mean something to me, I was surprised to discover, and I found myself quite hurt by her action. I felt that she owed me a hearing before she went her way. Then if she still chose her mortal captain, they could have my blessing. If not, I realized that I wanted to keep her with me. Fair Avalon would be postponed for so long as it took me to resolve this to ending or continuance.
    I rode along the trail and the birds sang in the trees about me. The day was bright with a sky-blue, treegreen peace, for the scourge had been lifted from the land. In my heart, there was something like a bit of joy that I had undone at least a small portion of the rottenness I had wrought. Evil? Hell, I've done more of it than most men, but I had picked up a conscience too, somewhere along the way, and I let it enjoy one of its rare moments of satisfaction. Once I held Amber, I could allow it a little more leeway, I felt. Ha!
    I was heading north, and the terrain was foreign to me. I followed a clearly marked trail, which bore the signs of two riders' recent passage. I followed all that day, through dusk and into evening, dismounting periodically to inspect the way. Finally, my eyes played too many tricks on me, so I located a small glen- several hundred yards to the left of the trail-and there I camped for the night. It was the pains in my neck, doubtless, that made me dream of the horned one and relive that battle. "Help us now, and we will restore to you that which is yours," it said. I awoke suddenly at that point, with a curse on my lips.
    When morning paled the sky, I mounted and continued on. It had been a cold night, and the day still held me in hands out of the north. The grasses sparkled with a light frost and my cloak was damp from having been used as a bedroll.
    By noon, something of warmth had returned to the world and the trail was fresher. I was gaining on them.
    When I found her, I leaped down from my mount and ran to where she lay, beneath a wild rosebush without flowers, the thorns of which had scratched her cheek and shoulder. Dead, she had not been so for long, for the blood was still damp upon her breast where the blade had entered, and her flesh yet warm.
    There were no rocks with which to build her a cairn, so I cut away the sod with Grayswandir and laid her there to rest He had removed her bracelets, her rings, and her jeweled combs, which had held all she possessed of fortune. I had to close her eyes before I covered her over with my cloak, and here my hand faltered and my own eyes grew dim. It took me a long while.
    I rode on, and it was not long before I overtook him, riding as though he were pursued by the Devil, which he was. I spoke not a word when I unhorsed him, nor afterward, and I did not use my blade, though he drew his own. I hurled his broken body into a high oak tree, and when I looked back it was dark with birds.
    I replaced her rings, her bracelets, her combs, before I closed the grave, and that was Lorraine. All that she had ever been or wanted to be had come to this, and that is the whole story of how we met and how we parted, Lorraine and I, in the land called Lorraine, and it is like onto my life, I guess, for a Prince of Amber is part and party to all the rottenness that is in the world, which is why whenever I do speak of my conscience, something else within me must answer, "Ha!" In the mirrors of the many judgments, my hands are the color of blood. I am a part of the evil that exists in the world and in Shadow. I sometime fancy myself an evil which exists to oppose other evils. I destroy Melkins when I find them, and on that Great Day of which prophets speak but in which they do not truly believe, on that day when the world is completely cleansed of evil, then I, too, will go down into darkness, swallowing curses. Perhaps even sooner than that, I now judge. But whatever . . . Until that time, I shall not wash my hands nor let them hang uesless.
    Turning, I rode back to the Keep of Ganelon, who knew but would never understand.