To Rule in Amber (27 page)

"Agreed," Conner said quickly.

"Now, why did Suhuy want Fenn back?" I mused. "We discovered his true identity. Suhuy must know that trick won't work again."

"A better question," Dad said, "is - who was impersonating
you
?"

A month passed since Aber had betrayed King Uthor and me. Freda continued to check with her aunts nearly every day for updates on the political situation in the Courts of Chaos. Sometimes we got word of a friend or family member who had sworn fealty to King Swayvil; more often, however, we got lists of the executed as Swayvil's bloody purges continued.

Always we looked for word of missing family members, but since Uthor's death, not one had been publicly executed. Of course, they could be undergoing torture in Swayvil's dungeons… or, as Conner had been, simply left to rot in a cell. We had no way of knowing. Perhaps, I sometimes thought, the new King of Chaos meant to save them for bargaining chips when he finally moved against us.

Several weeks into the new king's rule, King Uthor's brother Irtar tried to seize the throne.

Backed by half a dozen powerful Lords of Chaos, his assassination attempt nearly succeeded. But Suhuy's timely intervention, according to Great Aunt Eddarg, saved the day.

After that, Swayvil rushed many of Uthor's former supporters to trial. Some days as many as two dozen Lords of Chaos met the axe in public ceremonies… all to the cheering of the bloodthirsty residents of Chaos. After Irtar's death, Swayvil declared a holiday and gave out refreshments and favors at the palace gates to all who called.

Of course, I recognized none of the names of the dead, though Freda wept several times when men and women she knew fell to Swayvil's purge. I could do little to comfort her.

She spent days working on Castle Amber, organizing the staff, decorating the halls and rooms, supervising all the little niceties that finished off the castle properly. And Amber slowly became a home to us all.

Early one morning I took a stroll along the castle's upper battlements, gazing out across the fields and rolling hills that had begun to sprout the beginnings of a town. It was a gloriously beautiful day, the air tasted crisp and fresh, and I felt well-rested and strong. Below me, the castle guard had turned out for morning drills, and with a wistful little smile I listened to the officers' orders and the beginnings of swordplay. I missed dawn roll-calls and early morning workouts.

Then I felt a light mental contact. Someone was trying to reach me through a Trump… probably Conner, who had gone off to explore the southern marshlands with several squads of infantryman. He had instructions to call me if anything went wrong.

When I opened my thoughts, though, I found myself staring at a wavering, uncertain image of Aber. He sat high on a pile of luxurious-looking cushions, and he looked well oiled and well fed.

He had nerve. My rage started to bubble toward the surface, but I held it in check.

"What is it?" I said coldly. He must have something important to say, after all he had done.

"Hi, Oberon."

He smiled with his usual cheerfulness, as though nothing had happened between us. Didn't he realize how much his betrayal had wounded me?

Slowly I dropped one hand to the knife at my belt. It had a good balance, perfect for throwing. I palmed it as subtly as I could. Would it strike him through the Trump if I threw it while we were talking?

Somehow, I thought so.

"What do you want?" I said.

"I miss everyone," he said. He frowned a bit. "How would you feel about returning to the Courts on an official state visit, as ruler of Amber? Freda too, of course. And Conner if he wants."

"You must be joking," I said. I couldn't believe he'd just asked me to return to Chaos.

He grinned. "Okay. You don't have to bring Conner if you don't want to."

"Swayvil would kill us all."

He actually laughed. "Nonsense. I hate to be insulting, but you have an exaggerated opinion of your own importance. The king simply doesn't care about you, Dad, or Amber right now - he has bigger problems."

"I can imagine," I said. "The body count seems to be rising quite fast, from what I hear."

"Ah? Freda's keeping tabs on us, I guess."

"Yes."

He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I'm something of a golden boy right now, you know… after all, I single-handedly ended the civil war and probably saved tens of thousands of lives. That makes me quite the hero in certain circles."

"Uh-huh. You're a hero." I let a note of disdain creep into my voice. "Congratulations."

"So, I asked the king if you could all visit, and he agreed. He personally guarantees your safety.

When can you come?"

"You're insane," I said. He had to be out of his mind if he thought we would blindly walk into the Courts of Chaos again. "After all that's happened, you expect us to simply show up for dinner, never mind that Swayvil has been killing off our family for years?"

"Well, yes. And it would be more than just dinner - it would be an official state visit. You'll all be quite safe, of course."

"I'd sooner slit my own throat than let Swayvil do it for me. Or you, for that matter."

"How can you say that!" He actually looked hurt. And he managed it with such sincerity, I almost believed him. He had certainly missed his true calling - the stage.

I tightened my grip on the knife. "I don't take betrayal well, Aber. You can't talk your way out of it."

"You ought to be thanking me." He folded his arms stubbornly. "I did you a huge favor."

"Murdering King Uthor? If Swayvil hadn't attacked when he did…"

"It
was
carefully timed," he said smugly.

"You left us there to die!"

"Not at all. I had every faith in you. You're a survivor, after all. You'll just have to trust me this time - you were never in any real danger."

I shook my head. He made it sound almost plausible… only I knew the truth. He'd been looking out for himself, without a moment's thought for the rest of us.

Trust him?
Never again
.

At my silence, he continued: "You
are
my favorite brother, after all. That's got to count for something, Oberon!"

"Sure it does," I said, reaching my empty hand toward him. "Come on through. We'll discuss it over dinner… I know Freda wants to see you, too."

"Ah-ah." He wagged a finger at me and grinned. "Business before vengeance."

I raised my eyebrows. "Business?"

"Well, I
had
hoped to save it for the banquet… but what would you say to a pardon from King Swayvil?"

I stared at him. "Impossible!"

"If the king offered you and Dad and everyone else in our family pardons, including the return of our lands and restoration of our titles, would you return to Chaos and swear fealty to him?"

"What about Amber?" I demanded. After all we'd done, I couldn't just leave it.

"Amber will become a principality. You would remain Prince of Amber… and continue to rule it, paying homage to King Swayvil of course. An annual tribute, that sort of thing - a token of your allegiance to Chaos."

It all came clear. "So I would become a puppet for Swayvil."

"Of course not."

"Forget it," I said. If he couldn't see through that plot, he was deluding himself. It might take a year - or five years, or ten years - but sooner or later Swayvil would move against me. Whether it came through slow poisons or a hunting "accident" or an a late-night assassination attempt didn't really matter. I knew without the slightest doubt that Swayvil would try to get rid of the Pattern and the Shadows as soon as his attention moved beyond Chaos.

"Think!" Aber said, leaning forward. "Our family could return to Chaos. Our father's lands and titles would be restored. It would be easy. Take advantage of the king's generosity!"

"It's too easy," I said. "What about everyone currently being held by Swayvil?"

"Freed." His voice dropped, low and urgent now. "This is the chance of a lifetime. Think of it, Oberon - it's what you've been waiting for. You'll be a hero."

"This banquet idea… who do I have to thank for it?"

"Me." He all but preened.

"Hmm." Of course, I didn't believe him. He had his devious side, but somehow this plan seemed beyond him. And he really seemed to believe Swayvil meant to keep his word.

"First," I said, ticking off my fingers on my free hand, "I don't trust you. Second, I don't trust Swayvil to keep his word and not kill me the moment I set foot in the Courts. And third, I am
king
here… and I will never serve anyone else ever again."

He sighed and leaned back in his cushions. "Is that your final word?"

"No. Please give Swayvil a message for me."

In one quick motion, I hurled my knife at his head.

He severed the Trump connection so fast, my throw never had a chance. The wavering window to Chaos vanished. Instead of striking him, my knife sailed over the battlements and disappeared.

Hurrying to the edge, I leaned out and watched it bounce across the ground ten feet from where a small squad of guardsman drilled with swords. They whirled, craning their heads to look up at me.

"Sire?" called the captain of the guard.

"Bring my knife back up, Giras!" I called. It was a nice weapon; no point losing it.

Then I went to find Freda.

I found my sister in the rose garden, overseeing the new plantings. Drawing her aside, I relayed Aber's message. "What do you think of it?" I asked. She frowned thoughtfully. "It
is
a tempting proposition."

"
Too
tempting. It's exactly what we need."

"Yes."

She sighed, then shook her head. "I advise patience. After all, Swayvil is preoccupied now with tightening his grip on Chaos. Leave him to his problems; we will continue to strengthen Amber. That is our best hope for survival."

"Exactly my own conclusion," I said.

A week passed. I didn't hear from Aber again in all that time - which half surprised me. He wasn't the sort who gave up easily. But I shrugged and went on with the seemingly endless supply of tasks that required my immediate attention. Blueprints for unbuilt sections of the castle… street-plans for the someday-soon city surrounding the castle proper… land grants for the hundreds of settlers now streaming into Amber, courtesy of Conner's recruitment efforts in nearby Shadows… and of course all the regular duties of an army commander, king, lord of the manor, and general administrator - everything from meting out justice in court to simply signing off on military duty assignments.

I wished, for the thousandth time, that I had more lieutenants to whom duties could be passed.

King Aslom's sons, though of unquestioning loyalty, needed many more years of seasoning to be left on their own. And Conner had to be in nearby Shadows, buying whatever we needed, bringing in soldiers and mercenaries and artisans and all the other workers we now needed in great number.

Despite my work load, I never forgot about Aber. Perhaps, I thought at times, he would grow content to stay in Chaos and crow about his heroic accomplishments… If it impressed his friends and the women of the Courts, who was I to object? So long as he kept out of my way, I would not pursue revenge.

Overall, life felt good. As the castle crept toward completion, as the population grew and the army took shape, a sense of pride filled me. This was what I had been born to do. Amber would stand forever.

Busy as my days became, I made sure our family managed to gather as often as possible for dinner.

When the banquet hall was finally finished to her satisfaction, Freda set it up magnificently - long and broad, it had twin columns of white marble to either side of a fifty-foot-long table. A pair of crystal chandeliers glittered with the light of two thousand candles. Tapestries on the walls showed cheerful scenes - hunting stags, epic battles, and portraits of family members in handsome poses. Freda had commissioned one of me in kingly robes with a gold circlet on my head, beaming down at the table. I had to admit it was a good likeness.

She had also commissioned portraits of all our brothers and sisters, even the missing and the dead. I walked down the row of them, staring up at the missing and the dead. Locke… Davin…

Mattus… Titus. So many…

A portrait of Aber hung at the very end, where it could not be seen from my seat at the head of the table. I frowned up at it. No, this would not do at all.

I called one of the stewards over. "This one… I don't want to see it."

"I will have it taken down, Sire," he said.

"No. Drape it in black."

"Are we to be in mourning for Lord Aber?" the steward asked, looking puzzled. "Isn't he still alive?"

"Yes… and yes."

That night, after dinner, Freda turned to me and said, "I need to speak with you."

"Oh?" I raised my eyebrows and took another sip of wine. Mentally, I sighed. She must have noticed the black crepe over Aber's tapestry; at least she had waited till the end of the meal to bring it up.

"At your convenience, of course."

"Is it about Aber?"

"Yes."

I took another sip of wine, studying her over the rim of my goblet. Somehow, I had known this was coming. I had a sudden premonition that he had contacted her again… asked her to intercede with me. She still loved him, I knew. She would certainly prove the weakest link in getting back into my good graces.

Not that I would ever let it happen.

I sighed. "Go on." I could at least hear her out. I owed her that much.

She said, "He wants me to talk to you about Swayvil's offer. I told him I would."

I snorted. "It's a most generous offer, I'm sure. But I'm no one's puppet."

"You should refuse," she went on. "You must never go back to Chaos. And you must never trust Swayvil, Suhuy, or Aber again."

I sat up. "What! I thought you would be in favor of it. A return to Chaos… freedom for Pella…"

"I know." She shook her head unhappily. "I think the offer was meant as a distraction for us. For
you
."

"How so?" I wouldn't have accepted Swayvil's offer anyway, but I wanted to know her reasoning.