But he caught it and managed, “Dworkin‘s notes . . . under fireplace. . . my—”
Then he was taken with another coughing spell and the blood came out of his nose and his mouth. He sucked in a deep breath and heaved himself into a sitting position, eyes rolling wildly.
“Acquit yourself as well as I have—bastard!” he said, then fell into my arms and heaved out his final, bloody breath.
I held him for several moments, then lowered him into his former position. His eyes were still open, and I reached out and closed them. Almost automatically, I put his hands together atop the now lifeless gem. I had no stomach to take it from him at that moment. I stood then, removed my cloak, and covered him with it.
Turning, I saw that all of them were staring at me. Familiar faces, many of them. Some strange ones mixed in. So many who had been there that night when I had come to dinner in chains. . . .
No. It was not the time to think of that. I pushed it from my mind. The shooting had stopped, and Ganelon was calling the troops back and ordering some sort of formation.
I walked forward.
I passed among the Amberites. I passed among the dead. I walked by my own troops and moved to the edge of the cliff.
In the valley below me, the fighting continued, the cavalry flowing like turbulent waters, merging, eddying, receding, the infantry still swarming like insects.
I drew forth the cards I had taken from Benedict. I removed his own from the deck. It shimmered before me, and after a time there was contact.
He was mounted on the same red and black horse on which he had pursued me. He was in motion and there was fighting all about him. Seeing that he confronted another horseman, I remained still. He spoke but a single word. “Bide,” he said.
He dispatched his opponent with two quick movements of his blade. Then he wheeled his mount and began to withdraw from the fray. I saw that his horse‘s reins had been lengthened and were looped and tied loosely about the remainder of his right arm. It took him over ten minutes to remove himself to a place of relative calm. When he had, he regarded me, and I could tell that he was also studying the prospect that lay at my back.
“Yes, I am on the heights,” I told him. “We have won. Eric died in the battle.”
He continued to stare, waiting for me to go on. His face betrayed no emotion.
“We won because I brought riflemen,” I said. “I finally found an explosive agent that functions here.” His eyes narrowed and he nodded. I felt that he realized immediately what the stuff was and where it had come from.
“While there are many things I want to discuss with you,” I continued, “I want to take care of the enemy first. If you will hold the contact, I will send you several hundred riflemen.” He smiled.
“Hurry,” he said.
I shouted for Ganelon, and he answered me from only a few paces away. I told him to line the troops up, single file. He nodded and went off, shouting orders.
As we waited, I said, “Benedict, Dara is here. She was able to follow you through Shadow when you rode in from Avalon. I want-”
He bared his teeth and shouted: “Who the hell is this Dara you keep talking about? I never heard of her till you came along! Please tell me! I would really like to know!”
I smiled faintly.
“It‘s no good,” I said, shaking my head. “I know all about her, though I have told no one else that you‘ve a great granddaughter.”
His lips parted involuntarily and his eyes were suddenly wide.
“Corwin,” he said, “you are either mad or deceived. I‘ve no such descendant that I know of. As for anyone following me here through Shadow, I came in on Julian‘s Trump.”
Of course. My only excuse for not tripping her up immediately was my preoccupation with the conflict Benedict would have been notified of the battle by means of the Trumps. Why should he waste time traveling when an instant means of transport was at hand?