Roger Zelazny: The Chronicles of Amber

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.