Ganelon hummed some bawdy tune, badly. The wagon jounced and creaked, took a turn uphill. The sun fell upon my face, and I covered my eyes with my forearm. Somewhere thereabout, oblivion fixed its grip and squeezed.
When I awoke, it was past noon and I was feeling grimy. I took a long drink of water, poured some in the palm of my hand, and rubbed it in my eyes. I combed my hair with my fingers. I took a look at our surroundings.
There was greenery about us, small stands of trees and open spaces where tall grasses grew. It was still a dirt road that we traveled, hard-packed and fairly smooth. The sky was clear, but for a few small clouds, and shade alternated with sunlight fairly regularly. There was a light breeze.
“Back among the living. Good!” said Ganelon, as I climbed over the front wall and took a seat beside him.
“The horses are getting tired, Corwin, and I’d like to stretch my legs a bit,” he said. “I’m also getting very hungry. Aren’t you?”
“Yes. Pull off into that shady place to the left and we’ll stop awhile.”
“I would like to go on a bit farther than that,” he said.
“For any special reason?”
“Yes. I want to show you something.”
“Go ahead.”
We clopped along for perhaps a half a mile, then came to a bend in the road that took us in a more northerly direction. Before very long we came to a hill, and when we had mounted it there was another hill, leading even higher.
“How much farther do you want to go?” I said.
“Let’s take this next hill,” he replied. “We might be able to see it from up there.”
“All right.”
The horses strained against the steepness of that second hill, and I got out and pushed from behind. When we finally reached the top, I felt even grimier from the mixture of sweat and dust, but I was fully awake once more. Ganelon reined in the horses and put on the brake. He climbed back in the wagon and up onto a crate then. He stood, facing to the left, and shaded his eyes.
“Come up here, Corwin,” he called.
I climbed over the tailgate and he squatted and extended a hand. I took it, and he helped me up onto the crate, where I stood beside him. He pointed, and I followed the gesture.
Perhaps three-quarters of a mile distant, running from left to right for as far as I could see, was a wide, black band. We were several hundred yards higher than the thing and had a decent view of, I would say, half a mile of its length. It was several hundred feet across, and though it curved and turned twice that I could see, its width appeared to remain constant. There were trees within it, and they were totally black. There seemed to be some movement. I could not say what it was. Perhaps it was only the wind rippling the black grassses near its edge. But there was also a definite sensation of flowing within it, like currents in a flat, dark river.
“What is it?” I said.
“I thought perhaps you could tell me,” Ganelon replied. “I had thought it a part of your shadow-sorceries.”
I shook my head slowly.
“I was quite drowsy, but I would remember if I had arranged for anything that strange to occur. How did you know it was there?”
“We skirted it several times as you slept, then edged away again. I did not like the feeling at all. It was a very familiar one. Does it not remind you of something?”
“Yes. Yes, it does. Unfortunately.”
He nodded.
“It’s like that damned Circle back in Lorraine. That’s what it’s like.”
“The black road. . .” I said.
“What?”
“The black road,” I repeated. “I did not know what she was referring to when she mentioned it, but now I begin to understand. This is not good at all.”
“Another ill omen?” “I am afraid so.”
He cursed, then, “Will it cause us any immediate trouble?” he asked.
“I don’t believe so, but I am not certain.”