“Neither do I. But I hope it means someone has done the job properly this time.”
“Lord,” I said, “it’s tangled. I wish I had known all of these things before.”
“There was never a proper time to tell you,” he said, “until now. Certainly not when you were a prisoner and could still be reached, and after that you were gone for a long while. When you returned with your troops and your new weapons, I was uncertain as to your full intentions. Then things happened quickly and Brand was back again. It was too late. I had to get out to save my skin. I am strong here in Arden. Here, I can take anything he can throw at me. I have been maintaining the patrols at full battle force and awaiting word of Brand’s death. I wanted to inquire of one of you whether he was still around. But I could not decide whom to ask, thinking myself still suspect should he have died. As soon as I did get word, though, should it prove he was still living, I was resolved to have a try at him myself. Now this . . . state of affairs . . . What are you going to do now, Corwin?”
“I am off to fetch the Jewel of Judgment from a place where I cached it in Shadow. There is a way it can be used to destroy the black road. I intend to try it.”
“How can this be done?”
“That is too long a story, for a horrible thought has just occurred to me.”
“What is that?”
“Brand wants the Jewel. He was asking about it, and now-This power of his to find things in Shadow and fetch them back. How good is it?”
Julian looked thoughtful.
“He is hardly omniscient, if that is what you mean. You can find anything you want in Shadow the normal way we go about it-by traveling to it. According to Fiona, he just cuts out the footwork. It is therefore an object, not a particular object that he summons. Besides, that Jewel is a very strange item from everything Eric told me about it. I think Brand would have to go after it in person, once he finds out where it is.”
“Then I must get on with my hellride. I have to beat him to it.”
“I see you are riding Drum,” Julian observed. “He is a good beast, a sturdy fellow. Been through many a hellride.”
“Glad to hear that,” I said. “What are you going to do now?”
“Get in touch with someone in Amber and get up to date on everything we haven’t had a chance to talk about-Benedict, probably.”
“No good,” I said. “You will not be able to reach him. He is off to the Courts of Chaos. Try Gerard, and convince him I am an honorable man while you are about it.”
“The redheads are the only magicians in this family, but I will try. . . . You did say the Courts of Chaos?”
“Yes, but again, the time is too valuable now.”
“Of course. Get you gone. We will have our leisure later-I trust.”
He reached out and clasped my arm. I glanced at the manticora, at the dogs seated in a circle about it.
“Thanks, Julian. I-You are a difficult man to understand.”
“Not so. I think the Corwin I hated must have died centuries ago. Ride now, man! If Brand shows up around here, I’ll nail his hide to a tree!”
He shouted an order to his dogs as I mounted, and they fell upon the carcass of the manticora, lapping at its blood and tearing out huge chunks and strips of flesh. As I rode past that strange, massive, manlike face, I saw that its eyes were still open, though glazed. They were blue, and death had not robbed them of a certain preternatural innocence. Either that, or the look was death’s final gift-a senseless way of passing out ironies, if it was.
I took Drum back to the trail and began my hellride.
Chapter 10
Moving along the trail at a gentle pace, clouds darkening the sky and Drum’s whinny of memory or anticipation. . . . A turn to the left, and uphill. . . . The ground is brown, yellow, back to brown again. . . . The trees squat down, draw apart. . . . Grasses wave between them in the cool and rising breeze. . . . A quick fire in the sky. . . . A rumble shakes loose raindrops. . . .