Winds That Will Be — Aedan's Journal
"If You Stand in Front of a Loaded Weapon and Pull the Trigger, You Should Expect to Get Shot"
Aedan's Journal. Session 12-16-00.
© 2000 Todd Worrell
Gabriel did his thing and we all went back to the castle. The meeting with Bleys made me think that I should let someone else know he was coming back.
Lady Iseult let me in to his office. A matronly type with the Amber city Merchant's Guild badge on a sash was haranguing Martin, following him around and around the desk.
"…your father promised the good people of this city higher tariffs on outshadow products."
"We have been over this and over this," Martin said. "Since his death, people have claimed my father promised them everything. If you don't—"
"I know, I know," she broke in. "Have it in writing, or it's not worth anything, but—"
"Excuse me," Martin saw me. "Is it important?"
"Yes, your highness." I tried to look solemn and tense. Martin flashed me a look of gratitude.
"Iseult, if you could…?" Martin took the merchant's elbow and guided her to the door. When she was gone, he shut the door and drew the bolt. It slipped into place with a loud 'click.'
"Whew." Martin leaned his back against the door and started to slide down it. I caught him.
"Hey, use the couch." We walked over and seated ourselves on the comfortable sofa near the windows.
"Do you even want this job?" I asked.
Martin rubbed his face wearily, then shrugged.
"It seems like I should," he said.
"It's a 'yes or no' question."
"Well, then," he sat up, rested his arms on his knees. "It depends on what would happen if I didn't take the job."
"And what do you think would happen?"
"It's hard to say right now. No one is opposing my right to become king."
"It's possible," I told him, "that they are waiting for you to fail before making any move for the throne themselves."
Martin exhaled loudly and sat back into the pillows. He pulled off his boots and put his feet up on the low table in front of the couch.
"Perhaps, but so far they have been rather helpful. Corwin has visibly supported me the most. Gerard has assisted when I've asked him directly. Flora has proven useful. Brand even helped out, although circumstances might have dictated his actions more so than a desire to help."
I looked quizzically at him.
"At the funeral," he explained. Brand's sorcerous skills had come in handy when the weird energy that destroyed the Unicorn flooded into the room.
"Oh."
"Other than that, Caine is Caine, and Benedict is almost Benedict. They do their own things."
"Any others?"
He squinted and counted on his fingers.
"Not that I can remember right now, but that isn't saying much."
"I've just come from visiting Bleys."
His shoulders sagged.
"He'll be here in a day or so," I continued.
"How was he?"
"He seemed rather…slippery."
"Wonderful." Martin said sarcastically.
"But he said he wouldn't oppose you."
"I suppose I should be grateful for that."
I got up and poured us both glasses of orange juice. Into Martin's I put a splash of vodka. He thanked me.
"So how are things going?" I asked.
"Pretty well."
"Is there any way I can help?"
Martin nearly spit up his juice. He coughed once.
"Uh…do you think you could follow up with the Courts?"
"I could try."
"Merlin hasn't trumped me," Martin said in a softer voice, eyes downcast.
"I'm sure he's been busy," I tried to reassure him. Sun glanced in through the window. Motes danced in the shaft of light. I drank my juice.
"Yeah, yeah."
"What have you heard of Corwin?" I changed the subject.
"The last I knew he was…with you, at the Church of the Unicorn." Martin's eyebrows drew down as he looked curiously at me.
"I'm afraid I set him off when I told him that Caine had lost Grayswandir. Apparently no one's seen him since."
"Uh-oh."
"I don't know exactly what happened, but hopefully either Benedict or Bleys has the blade."
I knew that I would have to explain that, so I did. Caine had taken Grayswandir with him when he attacked Benedict. Bleys claimed to have rescued Caine and he denied having stolen the sword. The next time I saw Benedict, I would check to see if he was wearing it. Then, I would ask him about it.
That was enough business. Martin and I went to his private chambers to avoid the crowds of people waiting to speak to him. We had lunch sent up. Over sandwiches in a back room, I admired his collection of odd instruments from shadow. We spoke of music, of the merits of the minor key and its effect on cultures throughout history. Martin was interested to learn that cultures which don't develop the twelve-tone scale have a greater tendency to lose critical battles in major wars. As a consequence, they often end up being conquered.
An hour later, we heard Martin's door open. That was unusual in that Martin had been very careful to lock it. Footsteps approached through the entry chamber and in a moment Lady Iseult stood in the doorway. She put her hands on her hips and just looked at Martin.
"Okay," he sighed. I stood and shook his hand.
"Good luck with everything," I told him.
"Thanks," he smiled slightly. "I need it."
I left his rooms and found my way to the infirmary. Doctor Clark said that Caine had awakened briefly and asked to be moved to his own quarters. Against everyone's wishes, they had complied.
On my way to Caine's quarters, I encountered Gabriel.
"Cousin," I asked him. "What is your opinion of our uncle Bleys?"
He chuckled.
"He's a skilled, lying, manipulating bastard."
"So, you envy him?" I smiled at the thoughts that implied.
"He has much I admire," Gabriel admitted, "but he's too fixated on his goal."
"His goal?"
"The throne." Gabriel explained his latest theory about Bleys, how his life-long dream for the throne had not been abandoned when the Unicorn chose Random. In fact, Bleys had been advocating that the Unicorn wasn't the mythical beast of wonder and awe long before recent events gave some merit to his words. Bleys had, in fact, been away from Amber for so long because he had been running from the Unicorn.
I listened to him prattle on for perhaps ten minutes before I changed the subject.
"What have you been working on lately—your artwork?" This was an old topic between us, something from the first day we met.
"The Pattern has metaphysical resonances," he said. "I've been trying to capture them in my drawings."
"May I see?"
"Certainly." Gabriel led the way to his rooms. Scattered about were sketches of sections of the Pattern; it all looked like nothing more than lines to me, but I nodded and grunted in the spaces in between Gabriel's words.
"What did you mean by 'resonate'?" I prompted him.
"All aspects of the Unicorn side of the beast resonate with the Pattern," he answered unhelpfully.
"How so?"
"They connect. Look here," he pulled out a sheet covered by long pencil marks. "You can see an image of one in the other." I didn't see the Unicorn in the lines, although it did look a bit like a sailboat, drawn upside down, if I squinted at it just right.
"The Pattern is more than we ever thought it was," he concluded.
"Yes," I agreed unknowingly. "From what I've heard, it even seems to be changing."
"Yes, yes," Gabriel excitedly put down a sketch and picked up another. "Look, see that? That wasn't there two months ago." Lines on paper, nothing more.
"It isn't going to be just a tool anymore," I said. "I remember speaking with Corwin a few months ago about when he was our age and everybody used to ride off into Shadow. They would spend a couple hundred years doing whatever they wanted in fantastic lands out of their favorite daydreams. When do we get to do that?"
We chuckled sadly and talked about History. Eventually we moved on to recent events. He knew even less than I did about Caine's battle with Benedict. Out of politeness, I asked him if he wished to accompany me to visit our wounded uncle. He did. We left.
* * *
When I was about twenty three, I had been sailing through Shadow with Caine for several years. We had an easy rapport, as long as I did what he told me. I was too young to do otherwise, although I must admit I thought of it often—okay, all the time.
We were sailing in rough waters, both literally and figuratively, ahead of the bulk of Caine's small fleet. Ostensibly we were patrolling for pirates, but the way Caine prowled the forecastle made me believe that there was more at stake here than simple theft and buggery.
Rain beat down on the deck below me. From my perch in the riggings, I spent every moment scanning the horizon and dreaming of a warm bath and dry clothes. The topmast swayed in counterbalance to the wind. My flute was wrapped in an oilskin and slung in its case across my back. I often played the flute while keeping watch, but now was not the time.
The sun sunk below the distant horizon, bleeding across the sky in glorious crimson and amethyst ribbons. The darkness of heavy rain clouds melted into the darkness of night. But just as the last hint of violet tinted the distant sky, I saw the half-imagined flash of pale that was a sail. The mast swayed and rocked back, and I saw it again.
"A sail!" I cried. "Western Horizon, thirty degrees starboard!"
"Ware!" Caine had quit his pacing and stood directly below the topmast. Then, two heartbeats later, he was perched beside me and reaching for my spyglass. He scanned the horizon quickly, looking along my outstretched arm. He cursed.
"It's him," he said between clenched teeth.
"Who?" I asked. Caine wrenched his head around to face me. His eyes burned.
"My brother."
* * *
I knocked quietly. After a moment, the door opened slightly. Jaliya's face appeared through a thin sliver of open space. She saw me and her face relaxed somewhat from its usual paranoid expression.
"He asked for you," she told me as she opened the door. I stepped into the room just as Jaliya sidled past me and into Gabriel's path. I let her stare at him for just a moment.
"He's with me," I told her.
"You know what that means," she said and moved aside to let Gabriel enter. It meant that I vouched for him, was responsible for his actions, and would suffer horribly if he caused Caine any harm.
"Yeah," I smiled humorlessly at her. Jaliya was one of Caine's assistants. Petite, dark, and dusky-skinned, she had hints of everything in her. I knew that her homeland was a desert, and she hated the sea, but other than that I didn't know her at all.
Which was undoubtedly one of the reasons why she was Caine's assistant.
After a moment to announce us, Jaliya escorted us through Caine's chambers and into his bedroom. I had never been in Caine's personal chambers in Amber before. They were pretty much as I would have guessed: sturdy furniture, the smell of Carabian cigar smoke, nautical charts as decoration. The floor creaked with every step.
Caine was sitting in bed, propped up with a couple pillows against a heavy oak headboard. At a table within arm's reach was a half-filled bottle of Golden Star Whiskey. Caine had a tumbler in his hand. Jaliya opened a cupboard and took out three more glasses. I poured all around.
"Skaal!" Caine roared. I echoed him.
The whiskey burned my throat and cleared my sinuses. Gabriel swallowed his half-measure in one gulp, but his face flushed red and he made a choking noise. Jaliya looked disdainfully at him behind his back.
"Why did you move from the infirmary?" I said. Caine disliked small talk except when absolutely necessary.
"It's easier to screen my visitors here." So, he chose to be oblique. Undoubtedly Gabriel's presence was the reason.
"Would anyone want to visit you?" Gabriel asked.
"I'm just going to tidy up my affairs here," Caine ignored Gabriel completely, not even acknowledging his presence. I was beginning to think that bringing him here had been a mistake. "Then I'll go on my way."
Enough dancing around the topic.
"Who did this to you?" I sat on the edge of the bed, hoping that the weight of my body would lend import to my words.
"It would be simplistic to say that Benedict did this." Caine held out his glass. I poured him a glassful. He downed half of it immediately.
"But," Caine continued. "If you stand in front of a loaded weapon and pull the trigger, you should expect to get shot."
"So, you wouldn't recommend pulling Benedict's trigger?" I smirked. He smirked back.
"You might say that."
Caine set his glass down and looked at me in that way he does when he's expecting me to report. So I did. I told him about the incident at the funeral, the Unicorn's alleged death, and my trip to the Courts of Chaos. After I had finished speaking, he sat silently for a while. We could hear Jaliya doing something in the next room. Gabriel looked like he wanted to ask Caine a question or twenty, but I glared at him until he shut his mouth. He stared sullenly back at me. For perhaps five minutes no one spoke, a tableau of buried tensions and half-hidden agendas. Then Caine took one more swallow.
"The thing on Merlin's chest, when the Serpent released him, was it the Jewel of Judgment?"
"I don't know," I answered. Caine had other sources in Chaos, of course. I hadn't mentioned the thing on Merlin's chest to him. To judge from Gabriel's blustering face, I hadn't told him either.
"Immediately prior to Swayvill's death, the Courts sent large expeditionary forces into distant Shadows." Caine had been staring off into the middle distance. Now he shifted his gaze and met my eyes. "They were specifically seeking us—various members of the family. I don't know why."
Knowing Caine well, I didn't ask him any questions. Not knowing him, Gabriel started to.
"What do you mean by—" Gabriel began.
I cut him off abruptly with an outstretched hand.
"There has been a request," I said, "from the Courts for a formal ambassador."
Caine shook his head.
"I have some…personal history with the Courts," he smiled grimly. I knew he was referring to the War.
"Well, I thought you would like to know that someone may be taking up semi-permanent residence there in the not too-distant future."
He looked at me through half-closed eyes for what seemed a tremendously long time before chuckling softly to himself.
"Hmmm," Caine's eyes smiled. "In the not too-distant future, I'll depart to Shadow to discharge the Unicorn's burden."
"What exactly is the 'Unicorn's burden'?" I asked.
"Mythology." He pursed his lips. "The truth travels slowly through shadow. Tell me," Caine leaned forward, "is Martin stable?"
"Of course he—" Gabriel began.
"I have no way of knowing," I interrupted him. "I didn't know him before Random's death."
Gabriel grimaced and looked daggers at me. Jaliya entered the bedroom and stood near the door.
"I did," Caine said, explaining nothing. I knew he was in no mood to be interrogated. "He'll rule only as long as they let him."
"Who exactly do you mean?" Gabriel persisted. Whenever anyone mentioned vague threats, Gabriel assumed they meant his father and he got defensive. Caine stared coldly at him. Jaliya moved quietly into position behind my cousin.
"Bleys claims to have rescued you." I said.
"Oh? I don't recall the specifics," Caine graciously allowed me to distract him from Gabriel's rude remarks.
"What do you think of him?"
"He is dangerous," Caine took a small sip of whiskey.
"Bleys has said that he'll be in Amber in a day or so." Caine looked at Jaliya. She nodded and left the room.
"He claims that he didn't take Grayswandir from you."
Caine shrugged.
"Either Benedict or Bleys has it, I would guess."
"You don't remember?" Gabriel asked skeptically. Caine turned his head quickly and narrowed his eyes at him. Gabriel took a sudden step back and bumped into a dresser.
Jaliya came into the room carrying a small satchel. She tossed it on the bed.
"I'll be in Amber," I told Caine, knowing he would deduce what I meant. He could contact me for information, transportation, and assistance. I walked toward Gabriel and shepherded him toward the door. He resisted, but only for a moment.
A rainbow shimmer emanated from the bed, and then Caine was gone. Jaliya lifted his whiskey glass and held it near her lips. She scrutinized us over the lip of the glass for a moment, then downed the rest of the whiskey in one swallow. She set the empty glass down on the table and put a cork in the bottle. She stripped the sheets from the bed, ignoring us altogether.
I took Gabriel's elbow in a firm grip and pushed him ahead of me out of the room. In the entry room he pulled out of my grasp angrily.
"Why did you—"
I pushed him, perhaps harder than necessary, toward the door.
"Outside," I said quietly.
He stood defiantly for a moment, then huffed out. I shut the door quietly behind us. Gabriel was already halfway down the hallway. I followed him at my own pace. At the next intersection, he was waiting for me, his face still red and angry.
I walked past him and went to the gym. It was close, and if Gabriel protested too much, it would be good to have wooden swords nearby. He came behind me and began shouting before the door was even closed.
"You didn't even let me talk to him!" He waved his arms up and down petulantly.
"I didn't bring you along to speak. You were privileged to just listen."
"You kept him from answering my questions!" Gabriel got in my face.
"You don't know half of what happened." I sneered down at him. Talk first, kill later.
"I would, if you hadn't kept cutting me off." He backed away.
I laughed humorlessly.
"If you believe that I prevented Caine from telling you anything, you are sadly mistaken."
"But why didn't you at least let me ask?"
"I didn't want you to upset him," I hissed, my own emotions rising. Could he really have been so unaware of how close he was to provoking Caine? Nobody was that naïve. I knew that Caine wouldn't have killed Brand's son outright, but Jaliya had a knack for making people disappear for long periods of time. When they returned, if they did, they were broken husks, scared of their own shadows.
"Upset him? How do you think I feel?!?" Gabriel shouted. Honestly, I didn't care how he felt and I was about to tell him so. At that moment, the doors to the gym opened. Gregory stood there in ranger garb.
"What the hell is going on?" He asked. "I could hear you all the way down the hall."
"Aedan wasn't—"
"We were discussing how I tried to prevent Gabriel from making an ass of himself."
Gregory tried to calm us down.
"One at a time," he said. I let Gabriel vent. His version of what had just happened was so far from the truth that it wouldn't even qualify as fiction.
"…and from what Brand told me, it makes no sense." Ah. Now his foolishness made a little sense. Brand had put Gabriel up to this. He was willing to sacrifice his own son. It was worth remembering.
"No offense," Gregory said, "but Brand isn't exactly the epitome of honesty and reliable information."
"Yes, but—"
"But in this case, you trust him." Gabriel didn't seem to mind when Gregory interrupted him.
"Yes."
"Other people have trusted him to their cost," Gregory pointed out.
"That's their story," Gabriel sulked. Gregory turned to me. I didn't feel that I owed him the complete psychoanalysis of Caine's methods it would take to explain my actions.
"I merely attempted to keep Gabriel from making another mistake," I said. "If my efforts weren't appreciated, so be it."
Gabriel didn't respond to that. Gregory clapped his hands together once with some finality.
"Any other problems?" he asked. I laughed.
"Do you want a list?" Our troubles were numerous, something Gregory knew all too well. He shook his head. We all chuckled.
I looked at Gabriel. He was only nineteen years old, and was well within his father's sphere of influence. It wasn't really his fault that he didn't have the slightest idea of how to deal with Caine. I held out my hand. He shook it.
"Were you looking for us for a reason?" I asked Gregory.
He nodded and told us how he and Giselle had chased away the last of the Unseelie from Julian's hunting lodge. They had found the Fey creation in the basement, a weird mannequin dressed in Arden ranger garb with General Fulke's name pinned to its chest. Apparently the mannequin had been a spell designed to infect Benedict. Unfortunately, even though they had found the doll before Benedict had been affected, they were unable to prevent his catching the illness.
Gregory teleported us to the Lodge, a rare use of a spell for him. Maybe the fact that his father was implicated in this made him feel guilty. Then a thought occurred to me. Perhaps one of the reasons why Gabriel and Gregory got along so well was they both felt the weight of their fathers' reputations. Brand was still around to wreak havoc, and the implications of Julian's actions were many and far-reaching. In fact, I was willing to bet that we would continue to find Julian's fingerprints all over the place, especially where the Fey were concerned.
The basement of Julian's Hunting Lodge smelled of dirt and decay. In a dark corner, the Fulke replica slouched. With the clothing of a Ranger officer and a small silver nameplate pinned to its chest, it looked nothing like Benedict's general. For a sorcerous focus, it wasn't enough.
I looked closer. The "body" was composed of dirt, vegetable manner, and insect carapaces. Ugh. I poked it with a stick.
"What are you doing?" Gregory was worried.
"Watch," I told him. I pulled open the shirt. Dirt spilled out across the stone floor.
"There," I pointed. A white corner could be seen. I scraped a bit of the earth away. It was a trump of Benedict.
"Don't touch it," Gabriel said. He was glowing with energy, observing through a magic lens. "It's still active."
Gabriel began giving Gregory instructions. I stepped back and called up a lens of my own. The spell had a sickly moss-green tint, as did Gregory.
"You're infected," I told Julian's son.
They tried a few things. When Gabriel trumped Gregory, the glow lessened noticeably. I told them.
"I've got a shield up, and I think it's working." Gabriel said. I looked at him; he was free of the tint.
We worked for another half hour until we had devised a working solution to the infection problem.
Now all we needed was Benedict's cooperation. It had only been several hundred years since he had cooperated with anyone. I decided to let someone else attempt to persuade him.
* * *
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