The Chronicles of Amber

Then he glanced at me, and I recognized the look in his eyes.

It wasn’t hate or mistrust.

It was pity.

They now had a cripple in their midst, I realized suddenly. They could all work wonders like Dworkin. All travel through Shadow-worlds, summon weapons from great distances, contact each other with magical Trumps, and only the gods knew what else.

And now they pitied me, like the soldier who had lost his sword-arm in battle and would never fight again, or the scribe who had gone blind from too much reading. They pitied me because I would never share our family’s one great gift… the Logrus.

As I looked across their faces, not one of them met my gaze. They all felt the same way, I saw. Only Freda and Aber seemed willing to accept me as I was.

Freda was patting my arm.

“You do not need the Logrus,” she said. “It almost killed Father and me, you know. I lay unconscious for nearly a month after I completed it.”

“Oh?” That interested me.

“It is supposed to be a family problem.” She lowered her voice so only I could hear. “Locke had the least trouble. Poor breeding, if you ask me. Dad had him by his first wife, a Lady of Chaos—an arranged marriage, you know, well before he inherited his title. The biggest mistake he ever made was falling in love with her; he said it a hundred times if he’s said it once.”

I forced a chuckle.

“Thank you,” I told her softly. “It helps to have a friend.”

“None of us is truly your friend,” she said softly, but in an almost wistful tone. “Trust no one, but love us anyway, even Locke, since we are family. Betrayal is our nature and we cannot change, none of us.”

I regarded her curiously, thinking of Ivinius. Could this be a confession? Or just the bittersweet words of a woman who had been hurt too often by those around her?

“You’re too much of a pessimist,” I finally said. “I prefer to think of everyone as a friend until it’s proved otherwise.”

“You are naive, dear Oberon.”

“I’ve been disappointed in the past… but I have also been pleasantly surprised.”

She smiled. “You do not truly know us. Soon… too soon, I fear, you will.” She patted my arm again. “You do have a good heart. I admire that. Now finish your soup.”

I took a few more spoonfuls to satisfy her, but I didn’t enjoy them. Mostly I wanted to be alone now… to think things through, to reconsider the day’s events. So much had happened, and so quickly, that I could barely take it in.

Locke’s departure had definitely lightened the mood around the table, though. Small conversations resumed around us, and the next course came right on schedule: braised pheasant, or a game bird close enough to pheasant that it didn’t matter, accompanied by spicy roasted potatoes and strange yellow vegetables the size of walnuts that tasted, somehow, like fresh salmon.

I ate slowly, eavesdropping on the chatter around me: Davin telling Titus and Conner about a new horse he had broken to saddle. Blaise telling Pella and Isadora about a kitchen scandal involving the pastry chef and a pair of scullery maids; apparently she’s just heard it from one of the seamstresses, who had gotten it straight from the herb gardener. Aber and Freda talked about new Trumps that Aber planned to paint. And Dworkin… Dad… looked down across us all and smiled like the benevolent ruler he so desperately wanted to be.

Almost pointedly, nobody discussed me… or so much as looked in my direction. Being ignored hurt almost as much as being insulted.

Oberon the weak.

Oberon the cripple.

Oberon the doomed-to-be-powerless.

There must be an answer, I thought. Maybe Dworkin— Dad, I corrected myself—had made a mistake. Maybe a true version of the Logrus did exist somewhere within me, only he hadn’t seen it. Maybe… 

No. I couldn’t give in to wishful thinking. I forced all thoughts of the Logrus from my mind. After all, I told myself, I’d spent my whole life with no knowledge of it or the powers it bestowed. For years I’d relied on my wits and the strength of my arm. I didn’t need Dworkin’s tricks, nor magic cards nor spells, just a good sword and a sturdy horse.

As servants cleared our plates in preparation for the next course, Dad leaned back in his seat and focused his gaze on Davin.

“How are the new recruits working out?” he asked.

At last something I knew, I thought, leaning forward and regarding Davin with interest. Hopefully Locke managed troops better than he managed relations within our family.

“As well as can be expected,” Davin said. He gave a short report, mentioning company names like “Eagles” and “Bears” and “Wolves,” none of which meant anything to me. A company could have been anything from a hundred to a thousand men, depending on how it had been set up.

The report seemed to satisfy Dad, though. I also liked what I heard. Locke and Davin seemed to have a solid grasp of military matters. From the sound of things, their newest recruits had begun to pull together into an able combat force and would be ready to join the rest of the troops in just a few weeks.

“How many men are under your command?” I asked Davin, hoping to win a few points with him by showing an interest. Perhaps he could use whatever influence he had with Locke to put us on better terms.

“Nearly two hundred thousand,” he said off-handedly. “Give us another year and we will have half a million… the finest force ever assembled, if I do say so myself.”

“We may not have a year,” Dworkin said.

“Did you say—two hundred thousand?” The number shocked me.

“Well, a few thousand more, actually,” Davin said with a little shrug. “I haven’t seen the latest figures yet. More keep arriving all the time.”

“Where are they coming from?” I wasn’t sure all of Ilerium had that many able-bodied fighting men.

“Oh, far and wide.” He met my gaze. “We recruit from a dozen Shadows, including some where we are worshipped as gods. They are eager to join.”

“I would have guessed fifteen or twenty thousand men in total,” I said, thinking back to the size of the camp around the castle. Their numbers made King Elnar’s fight against the hell-creatures look like an alley brawl in comparison. “Where do you keep them all quartered?”

“There are additional companies stationed to the north and east of Juniper. We only have so much space around the castle, after all.”

“With a tenth that many,” I mused aloud, “it would be a simple matter to drive the hell-creatures from Ilerium once and for all…”

Davin brayed with laughter. I flushed, realizing how ridiculous that must have sounded to him. Ilerium was but one world amidst all the Shadows cast by the Courts of Chaos, meaningless to anyone except me… and well beyond the concern of anyone else at this table. Never mind that I had spent the last twenty years there, and that I had dedicated my life to serving my king and my country.

And never mind that those vows still weighed on me.

“With you gone,” Dworkin reminded me in gentle tones, “the enemy no longer has any reason to attack Ilerium. They will leave it alone to concentrate on other battles.”

“Like here,” I said, realizing the truth. “That’s why you’ve brought all these soldiers to Juniper, isn’t it. You’re getting ready for an attack.”

“Very good!” Davin said in lightly mocking tones, a pale imitation of Locke now. “Give the man a prize.”

I gave a shrug and did not bother to reply. Sometimes it’s better to say nothing. Locke had taken an instant dislike to me, and Davin had obviously taken his cue and done the same. Even so, I hoped they both might eventually be won over as allies—perhaps even as friends—with some effort on my part.

I said, “Two hundred thousand men… all fully trained? Armed and armored? Ready for battle?”