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“Futures can change, you know. That's why so many predictions don't come true. Oh! I have something for you!”
“What?”
He reached into the pouch at his belt and drew out a new Trump. The colors were bright, almost glassy. I accepted it.
“Nice. New paints?”
“I spent the morning yesterday hunting up pigments. These are nothing like the ones I used to have, but they will do.”
It showed the main courtyard of the castle. Quite a nice likeness, too.
“You may have to get back here in a hurry,” he explained. “This is in case Freda and I aren't around.”
I gri
“Oh, it's nothing much.” He made a deprecating gesture, but seemed delighted by the praise. “My small contribution.”
I added it to the stack of Trumps in my pouch, hesitated, then pulled out Dad's. Aber said nothing, but his eyes begged: Please don't!
“I have to,” I said. “He must be told what's going on. He might be able to help in some way. Why don't you come along?”
“You know Dad can't stand me!”
“Oh, he can stand you. He just doesn't like you!”
“And that makes it worse.” Sighing, Aber looked away.
I'd spoken half in jest, but I saw that it had touched a nerve. I hadn't meant to hurt him. I really needed to curb my tongue.
Quickly I added, “I really didn't mean it quite the way it sounded. I—”
“I know what you meant, Oberon!” he said. “Don't worry about it. The truth is painful sometimes, but I'll get over it. I always do. Besides, I'll have the last laugh. I plan to outlive him. Longevity is the best revenge.”
I chuckled. “At least you have a plan.”
Raising Dad's Trump, I concentrated on the picture. The jester slowly changed, becoming a dwarfish man dressed all in brown. He had been puttering about in the basement, in the large meeting room.
“What is it?” he demanded.
“I need to talk to you,” I said. “I killed an assassin in the castle. He had a Trump.”
“What!” Dworkin cried. “Are you hurt?”
“I'm fine.”
He reached out for me, and I took his hand. With a quick step, I was standing in his library. The shelves were a maddening jumble of books and scrolls.
“Where did you get these?” I asked, staring.
“The Logrus.”
I shook my head. Only a few weeks here, and he had already amassed a lifetime's supply of reading matter, true packrat that he was.
He chuckled. “Do not fear the Logrus, my boy. It's the arms of the thing…”
I gave him a puzzled look. “Arms?” Had his dementia returned?
He laughed. “Those who serve its cause. Uthor's men. Thellops. Others.”
I opened my mouth, but before I could reply, someone outside began to ring a loud bell. We exchanged quick glances, then ran for the door. What now?
Co
“What is it?” I demanded.
“We've found Uthor's camp!”
Chapter 25
It took half an hour to mount our scouting expedition. Ten men strong, the party consisted of Co
We headed out as soon as fresh horses could be saddled and supplies could be packed. At my brother's suggestion, we brought heavy wool cloaks, hats, and gloves.
“I found a place to observe them from the mountains,” he said. “It's cold and a little treacherous, but I don't think they will spot us.”
“Good.” That sounded like an ideal plan.
Finally, as late afternoon sunlight slanted down through the treetops, we entered the forest. Co
I noticed how the men from Ceyoldar stared at everything around them with wonder. They knew this was the way we had entered Amber, but nothing looked the same. Ah, the powers of a god… Smiling to myself, I caught up with my brother.
Now the road grew rocky and narrow; forced into a single-file line, we climbed a steep path, moving into rugged snow-draped mountains. A cold, crisp wind gusted into my face, stinging with occasional flakes of snow. I blinked hard and squinted into the wind. We would need capes soon. I started to look for a place to stop.
“How many men would you say Uthor has?” I called ahead.
“I estimated between forty and fifty thousand—though not all were fighters,” Co
That didn't surprise me; King Elnar had sometimes allowed Ilerium's court to watch battles in which victory was certain. If nothing else, it impressed the ladies… and kept intrigue to a minimum. You didn't plot against a monarch with a powerful army at his back.
“Uthor is too confident,” I said, half to myself. Another mistake.
“He always is.” Co
“You sound pretty certain.”
“Oh, I have a some surprises in mind… I've been talking to a few powerful Shadow-beings, and I can guarantee reinforcements when the battle starts.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Not just yet. When the time is right…”
I gri
Hard-packed snow rose high to either side of the path, and the air grew thin as we ascended. Still we rode. Two thousand feet up, we came to a small plateau.
“Cold-weather gear!” I called over my shoulder, breath pluming in the air. I swung down from my saddle and pulled cloak and gloves from my pack. Made of heavy white wool, they shielded me from the cut of the wind as soon as I put them on.
I noticed the men from Ceyoldar all shivering as they gratefully threw on their cloaks. I motioned Haetor and Iankos to my side. They hurried forward, bowing.
“I don't feel cold the way you do,” I told them. “You should have said something. We would have stopped sooner.”
“Yes, Oberon,” Iankos said. “Next time…”
Co
“Is it much farther?”
“A couple hundred yards.”
“We will make a camp here,” I said to Haetor. “You're in charge. Iankos? Come with us.” I turned to my brother. “Lead on!”
Co
Without hesitation, Co
At last the trail leveled, then started down. Becoming wider, it ended abruptly at a little shelf.
Co
“There they are,” Co
Far below, in a lush green valley split by a meandering river, Uthor had made his camp. Tents by the score lined the water's edge. Huge pens held horses and lizardlike animals I had never seen before. Smoke from a thousand campfires cast a haze across everything.
To the north, at the far end of the valley, squads drilled and practiced with swords, axes, pikes, and strange long-bladed weapons. Everywhere I looked, I saw the bustle of movement. The sheer numbers astounded me.