Guns Of Avalon by Roger Zelazny

I gnashed my teeth.

None of this should be necessary. When I ruled in Amber, things would be different. They had to be. . .

Why had no one ever come up with a way to change the basic nature of man? Even the erasure of all my memories and a new life in a new world had resulted in the same old Corwin. If I were not happy with what I was it could be a proposition worthy of despair.

In a quiet part of the river, I washed away the dust, the sweat, wondering the while about the black road which had so injured my brothers. There were many things that I needed to know.

As I bathed, Grayswandir was never far from my hand. One of us is capable of tracking another through Shadow, when the trail is still warm. As it was, my bath was undisturbed, though I used Grayswandir three times on the way back, on less mundane things than brothers.

But this was to be expected, as I had accelerated the pace considerably. . . .

It was still dark, though dawn was not too far away, when I entered the stables at my brother’s manor. I tended Star, who had grown somewhat wild, talking to him and soothing him as I rubbed him down, then putting out a good supply of food and water. Ganelon’s Firedrake greeted me from the opposite stall. I cleaned up at the pump to the rear of the stable, trying to decide where I was going to catch a little sleep.

I needed some rest. A few hours’ worth would hold me for a time, but I refused to take them beneath Benedict’s roof. I would not be taken that easily, and while I had often said that I wanted to die in bed, what I really meant was that in my old age I wanted to be stepped on by an elephant while making love.

I was not averse to drinking his booze, though, and I wanted a belt of something strong. The manor was dark; I entered quietly and I found the sideboard.

I poured a stiff one, tossed it off, poured another, and carried it to the window. I could see for a great distance. The manor stood on a hillside and Benedict had landscaped the place well.

“ ‘White in the moon the long road lies,’ “ I recited, surprised at the sound of my own voice. “ ‘The moon stands blank above…’ “

“So it does. So it does, Corwin my lad,” I heard Ganelon say.

“I didn’t see you sitting there,” I said softly, not turning from the window.

“That’s because I’m sitting so still,” he said.

“Oh,” I said. “How drunk are you?”

“Hardly at all,” he said, “now. But if you would care to be a good fellow and fetch me a drink…”

I turned.

“Why can’t you get your own?”

“It hurts to move.”

“All right.”

I went and poured him one, carried it to him. He raised it slowly, nodded his thanks, took a sip.

“Ah, that’s good!” he sighed. “May it numb things a bit”

“You were in a fight,” I decided.

“Aye,” he said. “Several.”

“Then bear your wounds like a good trooper and let me save my sympathy.”

“But I won!”

“God! Where did you leave the bodies?”

“Oh, they are not that bad off. Twas a girl did this to me.”

“Then I’d say you got your money’s worth.”

“ ‘Twas not that sort of thing at all. I believe I’ve embarrassed us.”

“Us? How?”

“I did not know she was the lady of the house. I came in feeling jolly, and I thought her some serving wench…”

“Dara?” I said, tensing.

“Aye, the same. I slapped her on the rump and went for a kiss or two-“ He groaned. “Then she picked me up. She raised me off the ground and held me up over her head. Then she told me she was the lady of the house. Then she let me fall. . . . I’m eighteen stone if I’m a pebble, man, and it was a long way down.” He took another drink, and I chuckled.

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