“How is Lance feeling today?” I interrupted.
“I had to place a guard in his chamber to be sure he rested. The muscle-bound clod wanted to get up and walk around. He’ll stay there all week, though, by God!”
“Then he must be feeling better.”
He nodded.
“Here’s to his health.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
We drank. Then: “Had I an army of men like you and Lance,” he said, “the story might have been different.”
“What story?”
“The Circle and its Wardens,” he said. “You’ve not heard of it?”
“Lance mentioned it. That’s all.”
One boy tended an enormous chunk of beef on a spit above a low fire. Occasionally, he sloshed some wine over it as he turned the shaft. Whenever the odor drifted my way, my stomach would rumble and Ganelon would chuckle. The other boy left the room to fetch bread from the kitchen.
Ganelon was silent a long while. He finished his wine and poured himself another glass. I sipped slowly at my first.
“Have you ever heard of Avalon?” he finally asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “There is a verse I heard long ago from a passing bard: “Beyond the River of the Blessed, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Avalon. Our swords were shattered in our hands and we hung our shields on the oak tree. The silver towers were fallen, into a sea of blood. How many miles to Avalon? None, I say, and all. The silver towers are fallen.’ “
“Avalon fallen. . . ?” he said.
“I think the man was mad. I know of no Avalon. His verse stayed in my mind, though.”
Ganelon averted his face and did not speak again for several minutes. When he did, his voice was altered.
“There was,” he said. “There was such a place. I lived there, years ago. I did not know it was fallen.”
“How came you here from that place?” I asked him.
“I was exiled by its sorcerer Lord, Corwin of Amber. He sent me through darkness and madness to this place, that I might suffer and die here—and I have suffered and come near to the final lay many a time. I’ve tried to find the way back, but nobody knows it. I’ve spoken with sorcerers, and even a captured creature of the Circle before we slew the thing. But none knew the road to Avalon. It is as the bard said, ‘No miles, and all’,” he misquoted my lyric. “Do you recall the bard’s name?”
“I am sorry, but I do not.”
“Where is this Cabra place you hie from?”
“Far to the east, across the waters,” I said. “Very far. It is an island kingdom.”
“Any chance they could furnish us with some troops? I can afford to pay quite a bit.” I shook my head.
“It is a small place with a small militia, and it would be several months’ travel both ways—sea and land. They have never fought as mercenaries, and for that matter they are not very warlike.”
“Then you seem to differ a great deal from your countrymen,” he said, looking at me once more. I sipped my wine.
“I was an arms instructor,” I said, “to the Royal Guard.”
“Then you might be inclined to hire out, to help train my troops?”
“I’ll stay a few weeks and do that,” I said.
He nodded a tight-lipped microsecond of a smile, then, “It saddens me to hear this indication that fair Avalon is gone,” he said. “But if it is so, it means that my exiler is also likely dead.” He drained his wineglass. “So even the demon came to a time when he could not defend his own,” he mused. “That’s a heartening thought. It means we might have a chance here, against these demons.”
“Begging your pardon,” I said, sticking my neck out for what I thought good reason, “if you were referring to that Corwin of Amber, he did not die when whatever happened happened.” The glass snapped in his hand.
“You know Corwin?” he said.
“No, but I know of him,” I replied. “Several years ago, I met one of his brothers—a fellow named Brand. He told me of the place called Amber, and of the battle in which Corwin and a brother of his named Bleys led a horde against their brother Eric, who held the city. Bleys fell from the mountain Kolvir and Corwin was taken prisoner. Corwin’s eyes were put out after Eric’s coronation, and he was cast into the dungeons beneath Amber, where he may yet remain if he has not since died.”