The Courts Of Chaos
Chapter 11

    I passed the niche and kept going. Beyond it, there was a natural trail winding upward. I mounted this.
    I could see no one as yet, but my sense of the Jewel's presence grew stronger as I moved. I thought that I heard a single footfall from off to my right and I whirled in that direction, but there was no one in sight. The Jewel did not feel that near either, so I continued.
    As I neared the top of the rise, the black drop of Chaos hanging behind, I heard voices. I could not distinguish what was being said, but the words were agitated.
    I slowed as I neared the crest, lowered myself and peered around the side of a rock.
    Random was a small distance ahead of me and Fiona was with him, as were Lords Chantris and Feldane. All, save Fiona, held weapons as if ready to use them, but they stood perfectly still. They were staring toward the edge of things-a shelf of rock slightly above their level and perhaps fifteen meters distant-the place where the abyss began.
    Brand stood in that place, and he was holding Deirdre before him. She was unhelmed, her hair blowing wild, and he had a dagger at her throat. It appeared that he had already cut her slightly. I dropped back.
    I heard Random say softly, "Is there nothing more you can do, Fi?"
    "I can hold him here," she said, "and at this range, I can slow his efforts at weather control. But that is all. He's got some attunement with it and I do not. He also has proximity going for him. Anything else I might try, he can counter." 
    Random gnawed his lower lip.
    "Put down your weapons," Brand called out. "Do it now, or Deirdre's dead."
    "Kill her," Random said, "and you lose the only thing that's keeping you alive. Do it, and I'll show you where I'II put my weapon."
    Brand muttered something under his breath. Then: "Okay.-I will start by mutilating her." 
    Random spat.
    "Come on!" he said. "She can regenerate as well as the rest of us. Find a threat that means something, or shut up and fight it out!"
    Brand was still. I thought it better not to reveal my presence. There must be something I could do. I ventured another look, mentally photographing the terrain before I dropped back. There were some rocks way off to the left, but they did not extend far enough. I saw no way that I might sneak up on him.
    "I think we are going to have to rush him and chance it," I heard Random say. "I don't see anything else. Do you?"
    Before anyone answered him, a strange thing occurred. The day began to grow brighter.
    I looked all about me for the source of the illumination, then sought it overhead.
    The clouds were still there, the crazy sky doing its tricks beyond them. The brightness was in the clouds, however. They had paled and were now glowing, as if they masked a sun. Even as I watched, there was a perceptible brightening.
    "What is he up to now?" Chantris asked.
    "Nothing that I can tell," Fiona said. "I do not believe it is his doing."
    "Whose then?" There was no answer that I could overhear.
    I watched the clouds grow brighter. The largest and brightest of them seemed to swirl then, as if stirred. Forms tossed within it, settled. An outline began to take shape.
    Below me, on the field, the sounds of battle lessened. The storm itself was muted as the vision grew. Something was definitely forming in the bright place above our heads-the lines of an enormous face.
    "I do not know, I tell you," I heard Fiona say in response to something mumbled.
    Before it finished taking form, I realized that it was my father's face in the sky. Neat trick, that. And I had no idea what it represented either.
    The face moved, as if he were regarding us all. There were lines of strain there, and something of concern to his expression. The brightness grew a little further. His lips moved.
    When his voice came down to me it was somehow at an ordinary conversational level, rather than the vast booming I had expected:
    "I send you this message," he said, "before undertaking the repair of the Pattern. By the time you receive it, I will already have succeeded or failed. It will precede the wave of Chaos which must accompany my endeavor. I have reason to believe the effort will prove fatal to me." 
    His eyes seemed to sweep across the field.
    "Rejoice or mourn, as you would," he went on, "for this is either the beginning or the end. I will send the Jewel of Judgment to Corwin as soon as I have finished with it. I have charged him to bear it to the place of conflict. All of your efforts there will be as nothing if the wave of Chaos cannot be averted. But with the Jewel, in that place, Corwin should be able to preserve you until it passes." 
    I heard Brand's laugh. He sounded quite mad now.
    "With my passing," the voice continued, "the problem of the succession will be upon you. I had wishes in this regard, but I see now that these were futile. Therefore, I have no choice but to leave this on the horn of the Unicorn.
    "My children, I cannot say that I am entirely pleased with you, but I suppose this works both ways. Let it be. I leave you with my blessing, which is more than a formality. I go now to walk the Pattern. Good-bye."
    Then his face began to fade and the brightness drained out of the cloudbank. A little while, and it was gone. A stillness lay upon the field.
    ". . . and, as you can see," I heard Brand saying, "Corwin does not have the Jewel. Throw down your weapons and get the hell out of here. Or keep them and get out. I do not care. Leave me alone. I have things to do." 
    "Brand," Fiona said, "can you do what he wanted of Corwin? Can you use it to make that thing miss us?" 
    "I could if I would," he said. "Yes, I could turn it aside."
    "You will be a hero if you do," she said gently. "You will earn our gratitude. All past wrongs will be forgiven. Forgiven and forgotten. We-"
    He began to laugh wildly.
    "You forgive me?" he said. "You, who left me in that tower, who put the knife into my side? Thank you, sister. It is very kind of you to offer to forgive me, but excuse me if I decline."
    "All right," Random said, "what do you want? An apology? Riches and treasure? An important appointment? All of these? They are yours. But this is a stupid game you are playing. Let us end it and go home, pretend it was all a bad dream."
    "Yes, let us end it," Brand replied. "You do that by throwing down your weapons first. Then Fiona releases me from her spell, you all do an about-face and march north. You do it or I kill Deirdre."
    "Then I think you had better go ahead and kill her and be ready to fight it out with me," he said, "because she will be dead in a little while anyway, if we let you have your way. All of us will."
    I heard Brand's chuckle.
    "Do you honestly think I am going to let you die? I need you-as many of you as I can save. Hopefully Deirdre, too. You are the only ones who can appreciate my triumph. I will preserve you through the holocaust that is about to begin." 
    "I do not believe you," Random said.
    "Then take a moment and think about it. You know me well enough to know that I will want to rub your noses in it. I want you as witnesses to what I do. In this sense, I require your presence in my new world. Now, get out of here."
    "You will have everything you want plus our gratitude," Fiona began, "if you will just-"
    "Go!"
    I knew that I could delay no longer. I had to make my move. I also knew that I could not reach him in time. I had no choice but to try using the Jewel as a weapon against him.
    I reached out and felt its presence. I closed my eyes and summoned my powers.
    Hot. Hot, I thought. It is burning you. Brand. It is causing every molecule in your body to vibrate faster and faster. You are about to become a human torch-
    I heard him scream.
    "Corwin!" he bellowed. "Stop it! Wherever you are! I'll kill her! Look!"
    Still willing the Tewel to burn him, I rose to my feet. I glared at him across the distance that separated us. His clothing was beginning to smolder.
    "Stop it!" he cried, and he raised the knife and slashed Deirdre's face.
    I screamed and my eyes swam. I lost control of the Jewel. But Deirdre, her left cheek bloody, sank her teeth into his hand as he moved to cut her again. Then her arm was free, and she jabbed her elbow into his ribs and tried to pull away.
    As soon as she moved, as soon as her head dropped, there was a silver flash. Brand gasped and let go the dagger. An arrow had pierced his throat. Another followed an instant later and stood out from his breast, a little to the right of the Jewel.
    He stepped backward and made a gurgling noise. Only there was no place to which he might step, from the edge of the abyss.
    His eye went wide as he began to topple. Then his right hand shot forward and caught hold of Deirdre's hair. I was running by then, shouting, but I knew that I could not reach them in time.
    Deirdre howled, a look of terror on her bloodstreaked face, and she reached out to me. . . .
    Then Brand, Deirdre and the Jewel were over the edge and falling, vanished from sight, gone. . . .
    I believe that I tried to throw myself after them, but Random caught hold of me. Finally, he had to hit me, and it all went away.

    When I came around, I lay upon the stony earth farther back from the edge of that place where I had fallen. Someone had folded my cloak into a pillow for me. My first vision was of the turning sky, reminding me somehow of my dream of the wheel the day I had met Dara. I could feel the others about me, hear their voices, but I did not at first turn my head. I just lay there and regarded the mandala in the heavens and thought upon my loss. Deirdre . . . she had meant more to me than all the rest of the family put together. I cannot help it. That is how it was. How many times had I wished she were not my sister. Yet, I had reconciled myself to the realities of our situation. My feelings would never change, but . . . now she was gone, and this thought meant more to me than the impending destruction of the world.
    Yet, I had to see what was happening now. With the Jewel gone, everything was over. Yet . . . I reached out, trying to feel its presence. Wherever it might be, but there was nothing. I began to rise then, to see how far the wave had advanced, but a sudden arm pushed me back.
    "Rest, Corwin." 
    It was Random's voice. 
     "You're beat. You look as if you have just crawled through hell. There is nothing you can do now. Take it easy."
    "What difference does the state of my health make?" I replied. "In a little while, it will not matter." 
    I made to rise again, and this time the arm moved to support me.
    "All right, then," he said. "Not that much worth seeing, though."
    I suppose that he was right. The fighting appeared to be over except for a few isolated pockets of resistance by the enemy, and these were rapidly being enveloped, their combatants slain or captured, everyone moving in this direction, withdrawing before the advancing wave which had reached the far end of the field. Soon our height would be crowded with all of the survivors from both sides. I looked behind us. No new forces were approaching from the dark citadel. Could we retreat to that place when the wave finally reached us here? Then what? The abyss seemed the ultimate answer. 
    "Soon," I muttered, thinking of Deirdre. 
    "Soon . . ." Why not?
    I watched the stormfront, flashing, masking, transforming. Yes, soon. With the Jewel gone along with Brand-
    "Brand . . ." I said. "Who was it finally got him?"
    "I claim that distinction," said a familiar voice which I could not place.
    I turned my head and stared. The man in green was seated on a rock. His bow and quiver lay beside him on the around. He flashed an evil smile in my direction. It was Caine.
    "I'll be damned," I said, rubbing my jaw. "A funny thing happened to me on the way to your funeral." 
    "Yes. I heard about it." He laughed. 
    "You ever kill yourself, Corwin?" 
    "Not recently. How'd you manage it?"
    "Walked to the proper shadow," he said, "waylaid the Shadow of myself there. He provided the corpse." He shuddered. "An eerie feeling, that. Not one I'd care to repeat."
    "But why?" I said. "Why fake your death and try to frame me for it?"
    "I wanted to get to the root of the trouble in Amber," he said, "and destroy it. I thought it best to go underground for that. What better way than by convincing everyone that I was dead? I finally succeeded, too, as you saw." 
    He paused. 
    "I'm sorry about Deirdre, though. But I had no choice. It was our last chance. I did not really think he would take her with him." 
    I looked away.
    "I had no choice," he repeated. "I hope you can see that."
    I nodded.
    "But why did you try to make it look as if I had killed you?" I asked.
    Just then Fiona approached with Bleys. I greeted them both and turned back to Caine for my answer. There were things I wanted to ask Bleys, too, but they could wait. 
    "Well?" I said.
    "I wanted you out of the way," he said. "I still thought you might be behind the whole thing. You or Brand. I had it narrowed down that far. I thought it might even be the two of you in it together-especially with him struggling to bring you back."
    "You have that wrong," said Bleys. "Brand was trying to keep him away. He had learned that his memory was returning and-"
    "I gather," Caine replied, "but at the time it looked that way. So I wanted Corwin back in a dungeon while I searched for Brand. I lay low then and listened in on the Trumps to everything everyone said, hoping for a clue as to Brand's whereabouts." 
    "That's what Dad meant," I said. 
    "What?" Caine asked.
    "He implied there was an eavesdropper on the Trumps."
    "I do not see how he could have known. I had learned to be completely passive about it. I had taught myself to deal them all out and touch all of them lightly at the same time, waiting for a stirring. When it came, I would shift my attention to the speakers. Taking you one at a time, I even found I could sometimes get into your minds when you were not using the Trumps yourselves-if you were sufficiently distracted and I allowed myself no reaction."
    "Yet he knew," I said.
    "It is entirely possible. Likely, even," said Fiona, and Bleys nodded.
    Random drew nearer.
    "What did you mean when you asked about Corwin's side?" he inquired. "How could you even know about it unless-"
    Caine merely nodded. I saw Benedict and Julian together in the distance, addressing their troops. At Caine's silent movement, I forgot them.
    "You?" I croaked. "You stabbed me?"
    "Have a drink, Corwin," Random said, passing me his flask. It was a dilute wine. I gulped it. My thirst was immense, but I stopped after several good swigs. 
    "Tell me about it," I said.
    "All right. I owe you that," he said. "When I learned from Julian's mind that you had brought Brand back to Amber, I decided that an earlier guess had been correct-that you and Brand were in it together. That meant you both had to be destroyed. I used the Pattern to project myself into your chambers that night. There, I tried to kill you, but you moved too fast and you somehow managed to Trump out before I got a second chance."
    "Well, damn your eyes," I said. "If you could touch our minds couldn't you have seen that I was not the man you were looking for?" 
    He shook his head.
    "I could pick up only surface thoughts and reactions to your immediate environment. Not always that, even. And I had heard your curse, Corwin. And it was coming true. I could see it all around us. I felt that we would all be a lot safer with you and Brand both out of the way. I knew what he could do, from his actions back before your return. I could not get at him just then, though, because of Gerard. Then he began to grow stronger. I made one effort later, but it failed." 
    "When was that?" Random asked.
    "That was the one Corwin got blamed for. I masked myself. In case he managed to get away as Corwin had, I did not want him knowing I was still around. I used the Pattern to project myself into his chambers and tried to finish him off. We were both hurt-there was a lot of blood around-but he managed to Trump away, too. Then I got in touch with Julian a while back and joined him for this battle, because Brand just had to show up here. I had some silver-tipped arrows made because I was more than half convinced that he was no longer like the rest of us. I wanted to kill him fast and do it from a distance. I practiced my archery and came looking for him. I finally found him. Now everyone tells me I was wrong about you, so I guess your arrow will go unused."
    "Thanks a lot."
    "I might even owe you an apology."
    "That would be nice."
    "On the other hand, I thought that I was right. I was doing it to save the rest-"
    I never did get Caine's apology, because just then a trumpet blast seemed to shake the entire world-directionless, loud, prolonged. We cast about, seeking its source.
    Caine stood and pointed.
    "There!" he said.
    My eyes followed his gesture. The curtain of the stormfront was broken off to the northwest, at the point where the black road emerged from it. There, a ghostly rider on a black horse had appeared and was winding his horn. It was a while before more of its notes reached us. Moments later, two more trumpeters-also pale, and mounted on black steeds-joined him. They raised their horns and added to the sound.
    "What can it be?" Random asked.
    "I think I know," Bleys said, and Fiona nodded. 
     "What, then?" I asked.
    But they did not answer me. The horsemen were beginning to move again, passing along the black road, and more were emerging behind them.