Chapter 091: The King Remembered

"Suddenly

You were gone

From all the lives

You left your mark upon"

Afterimage - Rush

Late. I was going to be late for my best friend's funeral, and that would be more than unforgiveable. One final look in the mirror. I guessed it would have to do. The clothes, my regular Amber outfit in grey, blue, and black, were fine, of course, although some people might be able to tell that I'd put them on in a hurry. I had been able to brush my much shorter hair into some kind of semblance of civility, but my countenance was pale and taut from both lack of sleep and the emotional strain I'd put myself through. Well, I could see no point anyway in trying to disguise the grief I felt.

My overnight activities had taken a lot out of me, but I still had some reserves left for the trip to Sherwyn, which regrettably I would have to draw upon too. Adrian's Trump was no longer cold and would be nothing more than a personal reminder of the man he'd been. To me this was perhaps the surest sign that Justin was indeed another person, yet it was also inconvenient because there had not been enough time to get someone to draw his Trump. I might have tried Corwin's instead, I guess, but somehow it did not seem appropriate, for the invitation had come from Justin and not from him. Since I didn't have a Trump of Sherwyn itself and was rather pressed for time, I was obliged to take a shortcut, in spite of the extra effort this entailed.

Clutching the awkward parcel wrapped in brown paper to my chest, I summoned the Pattern and created a direct link to the realm of Corwin's counterpart, wincing at the strain of overcoming the local interference. Since it wouldn't do to arrive right in the middle of the assembled funeral party, I located a spot just outside the castle gates, intending to make a proper entry, late or not. I stepped through, blinking at the sudden burst of sunlight. The bright sunny weather and clear blue sky seemed almost improbable on this sad occasion, but perhaps it suited the new legacy left by Adrian's self-sacrifice.

I was rather surprised to find that I wasn't the only late arrival at the gate. The four guards on duty were keeping a stern eye on an innocent-looking young woman with dark brown hair. She was wearing an odd cross between a suit and a uniform, although this latter impression was perhaps more due to the hint of crispness to her manner. Her outfit was so different from the styles I'd seen in Sherwyn so far to suggest that she was a visitor from some other place, perhaps the Courts or Galoria. I couldn't remember having ever seen her before, though, and apparently there was some confusion about her invitation to this event too, for the guards seemed not about to let her pass. The woman turned to me as if she'd sensed my sudden arrival and gave me a quick and well-rehearsed smile.

"I take it you are also here for the funeral?" she said. I merely nodded, thinking that perhaps we had met once before, since she seemed to know who I was. "Regrettably, there appears to be some trouble over the guest list," she sighed. I looked from her to the commanding officer, who was indeed holding a list of names, presumably of the people who had been invited.

"Lord Dorian?" he said, checking the list. Again I nodded, and he gestured his men to let me pass. For a moment I hesitated, wondering whether I ought to let the lady escort me inside, but something about her made me feel rather uneasy, so I decided against it. Undoubtedly, Justin and Corwin would have been told about her presence, and if it turned out that she had been

invited after all, they would soon correct the mistake.

After I had found a servant to carry my parcel for me, I entered the hall where I had been told Justin would be waiting to greet all those in attendance personally. Despite the fact that this was intended as a small-scale event for close relatives and friends only, quite a few people proved to have been invited to pay their last respects, and some had brought along an uninvited friend or two. As was to be expected, most were relatives, easily acknowledged with a polite nod here and there. Naturally, Corwin was there, as well as Alexander, who was accompanied by Myrthe, the new Queen of Galoria. I'd heard there had been a brief forced marriage between the two of them in the wake of Monias's assassination, but recently the union had just as quickly been disbanded, with Alexander now taking on the role of prime minister. Random and Vialle were present too, although their rather plain and frugal style of dress seemed to denote that theirs was not an official Royal presence. Benedict had come alone, but Llewella had brought both Gerard and the royal young Rebman twins Shiraz and Haynee, who had been quite smitten with my dearly departed cousin. The three ladies were all dressed in what I knew to be traditional Rebman mourning robes, covering their entire bodies under layers of green scales, their heads covered by deep hoods that nearly rendered them unrecognizable. These were in stark contrast with the normal scant style of Rebman dress. Finally there were two who could be counted among my own closer relatives: my mother Deirdre and Murlas, my secret brother.

While there were but a few local dignitaries, the Lady Sereva of House Baccaran had the doubtful honour of being the only Chaosian to have been invited; that is, if you didn't count Murlas or his companion Samal, both ominous presences clad entirely in black. Still, Murlas had at one point sworn fealty to Amber, and from what I had gathered his lover had had some kind of falling-out with Ornach, who had expelled him from his House, after which Samal had taken up residence in Sherwyn. As always I experienced a twinge of mixed feelings at the sight of him, but in my current emotional state it wasn't much more than that.

When I entered, Justin was in the middle of some serious conversation with both Murlas and Corwin, and I waited politely for them to finish, meanwhile wondering both at Sereva's current state of mind and at brother Murlas's courage to leave the Courts at what must be such a dangerous time for him. I still wasn't entirely certain, but I had been musing on taking the opportunity to have a little conversation with him later on. I had no idea how he would react to what I meant to tell him, though.

I had indeed been one of the last to arrive, and Justin seemed just a bit relieved when we shook hands, perhaps having worried a little over whether I would make it in time or not. Words were unnecessary at this point, so I saved my speech for later, as well as my gift. It was still unnerving to have to put this new name to these familiar features, but I felt like I was slowly getting used to the idea that he was really a person in his own right. While we were still sharing this silent moment, the guard Justin had sent away after his conversation with his father and Murlas returned with the lady I had seen outside the gate. This was not an occasion for overt curiosity, I felt, so I withdrew to a polite distance, but I saw how Justin greeted her civilly, yet rather stiffly, as if he wasn't entirely pleased with her presence. She, however, seemed friendly enough, yet I couldn't help noticing how a guard stayed near her the whole time during the ceremony that followed.

At the stroke of noon, with all the guests present, Justin led us in silent procession to a clearing in the forest just outside the city walls where Adrian's tomb had been erected. The body had already been interred in the heavy, black marble vault, unadorned save for his name carved in the stone and his old white armour lying atop of it. In front of it, a group of chairs had been placed facing a lectern, which Corwin was first to ascend. When we had been seated, he explained that this ceremony would mainly consist of our own individual tales and memories of his late son, anything we would want to share with the others assembled here. To this end, each of us would have an opportunity to speak their minds and, thus, lay Adrian to rest. For, he added, all of us that had been invited (and there was a not so subtle glare at the prim dark-haired lady at this point) had known him well in one way or another, and although some of us may not always have been the best of friends our shared accounts may help to keep the memory of Adrian alive.There was no obligation to these proceedings, however, and indeed Justin was quick to indicate that he would pass up on his chance to commemorate his late doppelganger. As Adrian's father, Corwin himself would be the first to speak, after which most of the others would follow in some kind of suitable order, Amberites first of course.

It was interesting to see how the various speeches reflected both the bond the speakers had had with Adrian and something of their own character. Corwin, clearly suffering emotionally from the loss of yet another son, reminisced about Adrian's younger years, his childhood, and the natural urge he'd displayed to act for the greater good and to become a noble knight full of honour. Honour and nobility were indeed ideas that had meant much to him, yet he'd found it increasingly more difficult to adhere to these principles in an environment where they were smirked at and viewed as inappropriate. In the end, after all the problems he had faced, Adrian had still managed to return to his principles, choosing them over his own life. In closing, Corwin didn't know whether it had been the right choice, for perhaps he himself should have been the one to make the sacrifice, yet the change for the good that had been accomplished by it was undeniable.

There were a fair number of those present openly showing their emotions, and some surprising ones at that too, like Alexander, whom we knew had always had rather strained relations with his brother. He didn't disavow their past difficulties either, but still mourned Adrian's passing, especially as it had come at a time when the both of them had been trying to establish a more friendly kind of relationship. It was strangely fitting, yet also disconcerting to witness the otherwise imperturbable Alex display so much of his personal grief, but perhaps this was the only way he could make a suitable tribute to his dead brother.

Others were more restrained, though. It would be hard to imagine anything that would be able to crack Benedict's calm exterior, for instance, yet the speech he delivered was quite unexpected and rousing too. Instead of talking about Adrian himself, he recited a poem, entitled "The Cycle of the Warrior", in which the life of the archetypical warrior is traced from birth till the moment of death. He was presented as close to being a force of nature, which can never really die but will be reborn to live through another cycle. Ultimately, he is just as immortal as the ideals he fights for.

Llewella touched upon Adrian's many different sides, of which some hadn't always shown themselves so plainly. She recalled his many friendly visits to Rebma and simply concluded with the words that she would miss him. Gerard didn't appear inclined to speak, nor did Vialle, but Random clearly felt he should say a few words. Although he wasn't really present in his function as King of Amber, it was in this role that he'd got to know Adrian best. He especially wanted to honour the courage Adrian had shown in becoming King of Sherwyn, for as he could tell from experience it was a hard and heavy task. Whatever the circumstances of his death, Random would also remind us that it had taken a special kind of courage at that earlier moment for him to betray those ideals and virtues that others had already referred to in order to save his kingdom. At first I wasn't sure I could agree with those words, but then I thought back to some of the sacrifices I had made myself along the way, up to and including the destruction of entire worlds. I might never have been as outspoken in my notions of right and wrong as Adrian had been, but I guess it had been our shared innocent belief in virtue that had brought us together in the first place. In this way, each consecutive speech was either something new to consider or some brief, shared moment of recognition.

Deirdre, the last of the elders present to speak, had the most difficulty with keeping her feelings in check. I'd seen her smoking heavily in the hall when I had first arrived, and I could tell the combination of the Curse and her genuine grief was wearing her down. She barely managed to say that she'd gradually come to understand how much Adrian must have struggled with what was best for Sherwyn and with his own ambitions, and that she thought his death was nothing short of tragic. For a moment she appeared to be about to add something, but she decided against it and left the lectern struggling to keep back her tears.

As the only two of Adrian's cousins present, Murlas and I regarded each other silently, until I indicated with a slight nod that he could go first. Like Alexander he made a surprising display of his emotions, although he succeeded in retaining some air of dignity befitting his current position as Head of a Major Chaos House. He told us he and Adrian had been friends, after a fashion. Their relationship had been characterized by their quite varied notions of right and wrong, which impossible as it may seem had more often than not made them see eye to eye. He acknowledged that their mutual respect for one another's principles had been crucial, and he emphasised how much he admired Adrian's decisions in his final hour.

Before he took his seat again, Murlas had a servant bring up a wreath of white flowers, which he placed near the tomb next to the paper origami one Alexander had left and the small bonsai tree that had been Benedict's offering. There was also a traditional Rebman seaweed garland that Llewella had placed there, to which the twins would later add their own. It was only much later that I heard that Murlas's wreath had actually been sent by Boadice, who'd heard of Adrian's death but who had not been invited to the funeral.

And then it was my turn. Sad and weary, I took my place at the lectern and regarded the congregation solemnly. "Murlas mentioned friendship just now," I began without any preamble. "I believe, or I would like to believe, that what Adrian and I had was friendship too, although perhaps a different kind of friendship from the one he shared with Murlas. It was the kind of friendship that is rarely found within our Royal Family of Amber." I sighed.

"Lately, the different choices made by the both of us had put quite a strain on this bond of friendship, yet the last time he and I spoke he made a significant gesture meant to tighten and strengthen this bond once again. Words cannot express my grief at never having another opportunity truly to do so. In his memory, and in memory of that last moment together, I want to offer this gift to Justin. His successor. His double. His incarnation."

I beckoned the servant who'd been carrying the parcel around, took it from him, and presented it to Justin. The painting that was inside was perhaps one of the most striking ones I had ever done. I had been working on it day and night without rest in order to get it finished in time for the funeral, and while it was more rushed and less detailed than some of my other works, this somehow seemed to contribute to its stark emotional intensity. It portrayed Adrian as I had last seen him, as I would in my guilt always remember him: firelight playing over his improbable expression of pure happiness, the glass he had me fill now empty in his hand. Justin was almost certainly the only other person to know the meaning behind this, and as he regarded it tears filled his eyes. Speechlessly, he showed it to the others, on whom it made a lesser though still significant impression, after which he thanked me with a strong and heartfelt hug. Yes, I'd say we would be able to use the old foundations of friendship as basis for a new one.

After this unlikely touching scene it fell to Sereva to say a few words about her late husband-to-never-be. Their relationship had never been an easy one, she confessed, with too much politics getting in the way, too many hidden motives, too much interference. In spite of everything there was always a spark, though, to bring them together time after time, regardless of what had happened in between. She seemed at a loss for words to round off her speech, feeling perhaps reluctant to show as much of her emotions as some of us had done. Finally, she simply said that Adrian had fulfilled the duty of a king.

In their farewell to Adrian Shiraz and Haynee were as inseparable and indistinguishable as ever. Their faces hidden in their hoods, their tears still sounded though in their voices, as they told us how they had never met a man as handsome as Adrian. His death was such a waste. They appeared to be casting a few uneasy glances at Justin, who studiously looked the other way, though. Adrian had always been destined to be with them, they said, and it wasn't yet too late. Another pair of glances at Justin, but from the way in which he discretely ignored them I'd say he was less than interested in maintaining this relationship in the same way Adrian had done. As for the twins, their dramatic performance would have been rather pathetic, if it had not been for the fact that their grief appeared as real as that of any of us. They were still young, and this was the only way in which they knew how to express themselves.

Since none of the other guests seemed inclined to speak, the dark-haired woman was the last to rise and walk towards the lectern. Justin kept on frowning at her, though, and I even noticed Murlas casting darker glances than usual at her. Still not knowing her name, I listened attentively for some clue that might betray her identity and explain the general hostility towards her.

She had come to honour Adrian as a partner and a former ally, she said, emphasising how regrettable it was that the partnership with Sherwyn had so rudely been broken. They had seen fit to overlook this unfortunate business, though, especially since their long colaboration with King Adrian had certainly been fruitful, and she expressed a hope that there would be a continuation of this colaboration with Sherwyn in the near future. With a bland smile she said that it had not escaped her attention how not everyone present here had been able to appreciate the late King Adrian's prophetic wisdom, and that there had been too many conservative elements who had influenced his policies in harsh and nasty ways. One day, she averred, everybody would know Adrian had been far ahead of his time.

An angry silence followed upon her speech. Now I finally realised who she was, knowing too that we had never actually met before. I had heard about her, however: she had been Adrian's assistant and liaison with the Enemy during the time before he'd managed to kick them out of Sherwyn, so to speak. Her name was Sonia, and now that I knew her true identity I could well understand Justin's animosity, though I wondered at Murlas's. The gall of her to show up for this occasion, though!

Apparently, Justin felt far from happy with hers being the final speech too, for despite his earlier wishes he now walked forward and asserted that Adrian had not only given his life for Sherwyn, but for our entire Reality. This latter cause would remain of the utmost importance to him, and he urged everyone to keep Adrian's sacrifice in mind during all the political deals and deliberations they would find themselves in. Glaring hotly at Sonia, he added that Sherwyn was now truly free again.

After the service a casual lunch had been arranged back at the castle, at which we could all gather our wits and perhaps share some comfort with those who needed it most. I accompanied Deirdre on the way back, Corwin being flanked by Alexander and Justin. There was little of importance that we talked about, yet my presence at her side was appreciated, I sensed, and it helped her regain something of her composure. Just taking on the role of the dutiful son, I guess.

No one was too surprised when Sonia disappeared before we had returned to the castle, and her absence certainly made the light lunch all the more agreeable. There were some casual conversations here and there, mostly revolving around small remembered anecdotes about Adrian and his personal peculiarities. This being a gathering of mainly Amberites, however, there were some private rooms nearby that people could withdraw to when they had some more private matters to discuss. I didn't have any particular use for such arrangements, until the gathering had nearly come to an end and I spotted Murlas returning from a conversation with Alexander and Corwin. He looked about ready to leave, and realising it was either now or never, I intercepted him and politely suggested we'd have a little chat as well. A bit surprised he assented, following me to one of the empty chambers, and waiting patiently, though with a barely hidden hint of annoyance, as I wove a Pattern shield around the room.

"I've heard some rumours concerning your role in the current strife for the Royal Succession in the Courts," I began. "As I've come to understand it, this can be quite a dangerous business."

"That is correct," he replied levelly, as if danger was an everyday occurrence in Chaos.

"It may be a rather personal question," I said, "but how serious are your ambitions in this affair? And how great is the danger to your person?" He frowned and thought for a moment, as he regarded me.

"Well," he said, "I think I can say that the chances of me becoming the next King of Chaos are entirely nonexistent. At least, that is as far as my own intentions are concerned. That being said, I am of course going to strive for the highest goal attainable. It is all a game of position and influence, and I have to act in the best interests of the House.

"As for danger? Yes, there is. There always is. I am trying to precipitate the proceedings somewhat, for the sooner they will turn to the real candidates, the sooner I shall be out of it. In the current state of affairs the danger grows with every passing day, and it will only come to an end when a decision has been reached."

"I see." This was more or less what I had been expecting, although his honesty about his own chances for the throne was refreshing. "Alright. Should you at any time find yourself in a situation in which the danger has become so great that you need a quick way out of the Courts, you can Trump me. From this point on I shan't refuse any Trump calls, and I shall remain available save for those moments when my location restricts any use of the cards. If there's any chance at all for me to accept a call, I'll do so."

"Thank you," Murlas said. My sincerity must have surprised him as much as the offer itself, which was more or less as I had expected. He was curious too, of course, but I silently made it clear that while I would answer his questions, he might not particularly like the answers I would give him. In the end his curiosity won out, though, and he put it to me in one simple word: "Why?"

"One reason would be because of Adrian," I replied, putting off the inevitable for as long as possible. "The last time I had seen him, he'd asked for my help. He'd told me a little about his problems here in Sherwyn, and he'd asked me for assistance, thinking that I might be able to help. And I'd promised him I would do so, but ultimately I wasn't able to get here in time. That's the sort of mistake I'm determined not to make again.

"That is one reason." I sighed, squirming a little under his curious gaze. "Well, I guess there is no easy way to say this. The other reason is that I have strong evidence to suggest that I am this mysterious other brother of yours."

If he had been surprised before, this little piece of information left him completely dumbfounded. I had never seen Murlas at such a loss for words, but fortunately there were none of the immediate hostile reactions I might have dreaded.

"This is not a heritage that will ever be publicly acknowledged," I continued a bit hoarsely. "I am quite certain of that, but Caine believes it to be true, and so do I. We haven't told you anything about it up till now, because it's part of a whole tangle of problems that fortunately don't have anything to do with you. Fortunately for you, that is. I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to tell you anything beyond this, for both Deirdre and Caine would gladly strangle me with their bare hands if I did."

There, let him know that I was putting myself on the line for him here. This was a true test of his character, for with this information he could do me more harm than any had done before. As I watched and waited, however, something of his usual cold mask seemed to melt away, and I thought I caught a glimpse of the Murlas I had not seen till now. Perhaps the Murlas who was loved so dearly by Samal.

"Thank you for telling me this," he said softly, more gently than I had ever heard him speak. He heaved a sigh, and for once he appeared to relax a little, showing something of the true burden of his position. "Of course, I am involved in quite a number of affairs. I may be playing some rather dangerous games, and although I cannot say what, if anything, of these things will ever come to light, I entreat you to keep this in mind: whatever you may hear about me, my loyalties have been and will always be to the side of right. Do not ever doubt this."

This was the most fortright and guileless as he could be, yet I also sensed his absolute need for someone to believe him, to trust him to do the right thing. And I did, partially because he was so convincing, but also because I wanted to believe. I wanted him to be on our side, for the thought of him allying himself with the Enemy was more than I could bear. Perhaps this peculiar need to rely on my closer Family ties to count for something more, which was so typical of me, would one day be my downfall, yet I couldn't help myself. And it was fitting, after all, for hadn't I taken a similar leap of faith with Caine?

"I hope that in time I'll be at liberty to tell you more about all of this," I said. "We're working on a solution to our problems, which is meant to be pretty final. As soon as we've managed this, I'll be able to explain a bit more. It may help to clarify some other things you might have been wondering at, such as the strange relationship between Caine and Diana, and the whole way in which we handled her attempt on his life."

He nodded slowly, and I could see that he was already reassessing everything he knew on the basis of the one crucial thing I had told him. "If there is anything I can do to help…," he offered, but I shook my head. No, I would only explain once the Curse had been dealt with permanently, although Caine and Deirdre may well object to my disclosure even then. Yet this had been my gamble, prompted by nature and circumstance, and I happily believed that it had paid off.

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