“Oh? Why?”
“I want to test some ammo Merlin brought back. If it actually fires, our lives have just acquired an additional complication.”
We entered the library. The oil lamps were still burning.
The rifle was standing in a corner. Random went to it, dug the shell out of his pocket, and loaded it.
“Okay. What should we try it on?” he mused.
He stepped back out into the hall and looked around.
“Ah! Just the thing!’”
He shouldered it, aimed at a suit of armor up the hall, and squeezed the trigger. There followed a sharp report and the ringing of metal. The armor shook.
“Holy shit!” Random said. “It worked! Why me, Unicorn? I was looking for a peaceful reign.”
“May I try it, father,” Martin asked. “I’ve always wanted to.”
“Why not?” Random said. “You still got that other round, Merlin?”
“Yes,” I said, and I rummaged about in my pocket and brought out two. I passed them to Random. “One of these shouldn’t work, anyway,” I said. “It just got mixed in with the other two.”
“All right.”
Random accepted both, loaded one: He passed the weapon to Martin then and began explaining its operation. In the distance I heard the sounds of alarm.
“We’re about to have the entire palace guard descend upon us,” I observed.
“Good,” Random answered, as Martin raised the piece to his shoulder. “A little realistic drill every now and then never hurts.” ,
The rifle roared and the armor rang a second time. Martin looked startled and quickly passed the weapon back to Random. Random glanced at the shell in his hand, said, “What the hell!”, loaded the final round and fired without sighting.
There was a third report, followed by sounds of a ricochet, just as the guard reached the top of the stair.
“I guess I just don’t live right,” Random remarked. After Random had thanked the guard for their prompt response to a training exercise and I overheard a mutter about the king being in his cups, we returned to the library and he asked me the question.
“I found the third one in the pocket of Luke’s field jacket,” I answered, and I proceeded to explain the circumstances.
“I can no longer afford not to know about Luke Raynard,” he finally said. “Tell me how you read what just happened.”
“The building that burned down,” I began. “Upstairs was Melman who wanted to sacrifice me. Downstairs was the Brutes Storage Company. Brutus apparently was storing ammo of this sort. Luke admitted that he knew Melman. I had no idea that there might be some connection with Brutes and the ammunition, also. The fact that they were located in the same building is too much, though.”
“If they’re turning it out in such quantities that it requires warehousing, then we’re in big trouble,” Random said. “I want to know who owned that building-and who owned the company, if it’s a different person.”
“It shouldn’t be too difficult to check.”
“Who should I send to do it?” he mused. Then he snapped his forgers and smiled. “Flora is about to undertake an important mission for the Crown.”
“Inspired,” I said.
Martin smiled at that and then shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what’s going on,” he told us, “and I want to.”
“Tell you what,” Random said. “You fill him in while I go give Flora her assignment. She can leave right after the funeral.”
“Yes,” I said as he departed, and I began telling my tale once again, editing for brevity.
Martin had no fresh insights and no new information, not that I had expected any of him. He had spent the past few years off in a more pastoral setting, I learned. I got the impression that he was more fond of the countryside than of cities.
“Merlin,” he said. “You should have brought this whole mess home to Amber sooner. We’re all affected.”
And what of the Courts of Chaos? I wondered. Would rifle have fired there? Still, it had been Caine and Bleys who had been targets. No one had summoned me back to the Courts to brief me on any incidents. Still . . . perhaps I ought to bring my other relatives aboard at some point.