“A question, if I may,” I said. “What was your king’s part in all this? You didn’t mention him, and it would seem he ought to know-“
“Dead,” he announced. “She made a lovely widow, and there was a lot of pressure on her to remarry. But she just took a succession of lovers and played the different factions off against each other. Usually her men were military leaders or powerful nobles, or both. She’d left her son in charge when she made this trip, though.”
“Oh, so there was a prince old enough to sit in control?”
“Yes. In fact, he started the damned war. He raised troops and wasn’t happy with the muster, so he got in touch with a childhood friend, a man generally considered an outlaw, but who commanded a large band of mercenaries. Name of Dalt “
“Stop!” I said.
My mind raced as I recalled a story Gerard had once told me, about a strange man named Dalt who had led a private army against Amber, unusually effectively. Benedict himself had had to be recalled to oppose him. The man’s forces had been defeated at the foot of Kolvir, and Dalt himself severely wounded. Though no one ever saw his body, it was assumed he would have died of such injuries. But there was more.
“Your home,” I said. “You never named it. Where are you from, Dave?”
“A place called Kashfa,” he replied.
“And Jasra was your queen?”
“You’ve heard of us. Where’re you from?”
“San Francisco,” I said.
He shook his head. “Don’t know the place.”
“Who does? Listen, how good are your eyes?”
“What do you mean?”
“A little while ago, when we looked down on the lighting, could you make out the Bag the attackers were carrying?”
“Eyes ain’t what they used to be,” he said.
“It was green and black with some sort of animals on it.”
He whistled. “A lion rending a unicorn, I’ll bet. Sounds like Dalt’s.”
“What is the significance of that device?”
“He hates them Amberites, is what it means. Even went up against them once.”
I tasted the wine. Not bad. The same man, then. . . .
“You know why he hates them?” I asked.
“I understand they killed his mother,” he said. “Had something to do with border wars. They get real complicated. I don’t know the details.”
I pried open a tin of meat, broke off some bread and made myself a sandwich.
“Please go ahead with your story,” I said.
“Where was I?”
“The prince got hold of Dalt because he was concerned about his mother, and he needed more troops in a hurry.”
“That’s right, and I was picked up for Kashfan service about that time foot soldier. The prince and Dalt led us through dark ways till we came to that place below. Then we did just what them guys downstairs were doing.”
“And what happened?”
He laughed. “Went bad for us at first,” he said. “I think it’s somehow easy for whoever’s in charge down there to control the elements-like that twister you saw a while ago. We got an earthquake and a blizzard and lightning. But we pressed on to the walls anyhow. Saw my brother scalded to death with boiling oil. That’s when I decided I’d had enough. I started running and climbed on up here. Nobody chased me, so I waited around and watched. Probably shouldn’t have, but I didn’t know how things would go. More of the same, I’d figgered. But I was wrong, and it was too late to go back. They’d have whacked off my head or some other valuable parts if I did.”
“What happened?”
“I got the impression that the attack forced Basra’s hand. She’d apparently been planning to do away with Sharu Garrul all along and take over the place herself. I think she’d been setting him up, gaining his confidence before she struck. I believe she was a little afraid of the old man. But when her army appeared on the doorstep she had to move, even though she wasn’t ready. She took him on in a sorcerous duel while her guard held his men at bay. She won, though I gather she was somewhat injured. Mad as hell, too, at her son-for bringing in an army without her ordering it. Anyway, her guard opened the gates to them, and she took over the Keep. That’s what I meant about no army taking the place. That one was an inside job.”