“Good night, Mr. Roth,” she said. Then, to me, “Start riding, slowly, across the field.”
I did.
“Brand says you are the one who stabbed him,” I said, as soon as we had gone far enough to feel alone.
“That’s right.”
“Why?”
“To avoid all this.”
“I talked with him for a long while. He claimed it was originally you, Bleys, and himself, together in a scheme to seize power.”
“That is correct.”
“He told me he had approached Caine, trying to win him to your side, but that Caine would have none of it, that Caine had passed the word along to Eric and Julian. And this led to their forming their own group, to block your way to the throne.”
“That is basically correct. Caine had ambitions of his own-long-term ones-but ambitions nevertheless. He was in no position to pursue them, however. So he decided that if his lot was to be a lesser one, he would rather serve it under Eric than under Bleys. I can see his point, too.”
“He also claimed that the three of you had a deal going with the powers at the end of the black road, in the Courts of Chaos.”
“Yes,” she said, “we did.”
“You use the past tense.”
“For myself and for Bleys, yes.”
“That is not the way Brand tells it.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“He said you and Bleys wanted to continue exploiting that alliance, but that he had had a change of heart. Because of this, he claims you turned on him and imprisoned him in that tower.”
“Why didn’t we just kill him?”
“I give up. Tell me.”
“He was too dangerous to be allowed his freedom, but we could not kill him either because he held something vital.”
“What?”
“With Dworkin gone. Brand was the only one who knew how to undo the damage he had done to the primal Pattern.”
“You had a long time to get that information out of him.”
“He possesses unbelievable resources.”
“Then why did you stab him?”
“I repeat, to avoid all this. If it became a question of his freedom or his death, it were better he died. We would have to take our chances on figuring the method of repairing the Pattern.”
“This being the case, why did you consent to cooperate in bringing him back?”
“First, I was not co-operating, I was trying to impede the attempt. But there were too many trying too hard. You got through to him in spite of me. Second, I had to be on hand to try to kill him in the event you succeeded. Too bad things worked out the way they did.”
“You say that you and Bleys had second thoughts about the alliance, but that Brand did not?”
“Yes.”
“How did your second thoughts affect your desire for the throne?”
“We thought we could manage it without any additional outside help.”
“I see.”
“Do you believe me?”
“I’m afraid that I am beginning to.”
“Turn here.”
I entered a cleft in a hillside. The way was narrow and very dark, with only a small band of stars above us. Fiona had been manipulating Shadow while we had talked, leading us from Ed’s field downward, into a misty, moorlike place, then up again, to a clear and rocky trail among mountains. Now, as we moved through the dark defile, I felt her working with Shadow again. The air was cool but not cold. The blackness to our left and our right was absolute, giving the illusion of enormous depths, rather than nearby rock cloaked in shadow. This impression was reinforced, I suddenly realized, by the fact that Drum’s hoofbeats were not producing any echoes, aftersounds, overtones.
“What can I do to gain your trust?” she said.
“That’s asking quite a bit.”
She laughed.
“Let me rephrase it. What can I do to convince you I am telling the truth?”
“Just answer one question.”
“What?”
“Who shot out my tires?”
She laughed again.
“You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?”
“Maybe. You tell me.”
“Brand,” she said. “He had failed in his effort to destroy your memory, so he decided he had better do a more thorough job.”
“The version I had of the story was that Bleys had done the shooting and left me in the lake, that Brand had arrived in time to drag me out and save my life. In fact, the police report seemed to indicate something to that effect.”