“I was not aware that you were acquainted with Martin.”
“I have never set eyes on him.”
“Then how were you aware he was the subject of the Trump?”
“I was not alone in that place.”
“Who was with you?”
I smiled.
“No, Brand. It is still your turn. You told me when last we talked that the enemies of Amber hied all the way from the Courts of Chaos, that they have access to the realm via the black road because of something you and Bleys and Fiona had done back when you were of one mind as to the best way to take the throne. Now I know what it is that you did. Yet Benedict has been watching the black road and I have just looked upon the Courts of Chaos. There is no new massing of forces, no movement toward us upon that road. I know that time flows differently in that place. They should have had more than enough time to ready a new assault. I want to know what is holding them back. Why have they not moved? What are they waiting for, Brand?”
“You credit me with more knowledge than I possess.”
“I don’t think so. You are the resident expert on the subject. You have dealt with them. That Trump is evidence that you have been holding back on other matters. Don’t weasel, just talk.”
“The Courts . . .” he said. “You have been busy. Eric was a fool not to have killed you immediately-if he was aware you had knowledge of these things.”
“Eric was a fool,” I acknowledged. “You are not. Now talk.”
“But I am a fool,” he said, “a sentimental one, at that. Do you recall the day of our last argument, here in Amber, so long ago?”
“Somewhat.”
“I was sitting on the edge of my bed. You were standing by my writing desk. As you turned away and headed toward the door, I resolved to kill you. I reached beneath my bed, where I keep a cocked crossbow with a bolt in it. I actually had my hand on it and was about to raise it when I realized something which stopped me.”
He paused.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Look over there by the door.”
I looked, I saw nothing special. I began to shake my head, just as he said, “On the floor.”
Then I realized what it was-russet and olive and brown and green, with a small geometric pattern. He nodded.
“You were standing on my favorite rug. I did not want to get blood on it. Later, my anger passed. So I, too, am a victim of emotion and circumstance.”
“Lovely story-“ I began.
“-but now you want me to stop stalling. I was not stalling, however. I was attempting to make a point. We are all of us alive by one another’s sufferance and an occasional fortunate accident. I am going to propose suspending that sufferance and eliminating the possibility of accident in a couple of very important cases. First though, to answer your question, while I do not know for certain what is holding them back, I can venture a very good guess. Bleys has assembled a large strike force for an attack on Amber. It will be nowhere near the scale of the one on which you accompanied him, however. You see, he will be counting on the memory of that last attack to have conditioned the response to this one. It will probably also be preceded by attempts to assassinate Benedict and yourself. The entire affair will be a feint, though. I would guess that Fiona has contacted the Courts of Chaos-may even be there right now-and has prepared them for the real attack, which might be expected any time after Bleys’s diversionary foray. Therefore-“
“You say this is a very good guess,” I interrupted. “But we do not even know for certain that Bleys is still living.”
“Bleys is alive,” he said. “I was able to ascertain his existence via his Trump-even a brief assessment of his current activities-before he became aware of my presence and blocked me out. He is very sensitive to such surveillance. I found him in the field with troops he intends to employ against Amber.”