Chapter 020: A Night In The Dungeons

"What was it brought you out here in the dark?

Was it your only way of making your mark?"

Murder - David Gilmour

     Sometimes you just don't know what course to take. You might have a choice between a couple of options, but you can't see what the precise consequences of either of them will be. Take for instance this matter of my cousin Rinaldo. I had no real reason to like or dislike him, save for his parentage, his father Brand being the one who had dragged my mother with him into the Abyss, thereby depriving me of her care in my childhood. Still, this wasn't something to be held against Rinaldo; one simply cannot choose his own Family in this big game of life. Caine didn't see it that way, though: our latest experiences with the rituals and all had apparently given him the idea that Rinaldo might be able to bring back his father in a similar way as the one in which we had brought back Deirdre. And it wasn't as if Caine didn't have any other reasons to hate Rinaldo, after that matter of the attempt on his life. Knowing Caine's reputation for efficiency, and having witnessed it up close but recently, I had the feeling that Rinaldo'd better start watching his back.

      So the question was: should I warn him? Like I said before, I don't particularly like or dislike him, and since I have come rather to dislike Caine, I might just do it to spite him. Yet, by warning Rinaldo I might also be giving him some ideas which could eventually lead to him actually bringing back Brand. That was something that I certainly didn't want to have on my conscience, and that was aside from the fact that most of my relatives wouldn't look kindly on anyone releasing my mad uncle from his well-deserved prison. Then again I didn't want to have Rinaldo's death on my conscience either... Dilemma, dilemma...

      Maybe if I were to be very careful about it, not tell him anything about the rituals? Yes, that might work. Quickly, before I could change my mind again, I found his Trump and started concentrating. In a way he did look a lot like his father, but he was a bit broader and taller, and he somehow always seemed to be smiling, at least he had been at all the times when I had seen him. And it wasn't just an ordinary polite and pleasant smile either, but one of genuine mirth and happiness, as if nothing ever bothered him very much. Very much unlike his father, who had been a bit of a manic-depressive, or so I heard. Anyway, Rinaldo gave me that usual trademark smile of his when contact was established.

      "Ah, Dorian it is, isn't it?" he said. "What can I do for you?"

     "Don't ask what you can do for me," I replied, "ask what I can do for you." He looked a bit doubtful at that, trying to determine how much this was going to cost him.

     "Don't worry," I said, "this one's for free. I just thought that you might like to know that Caine has returned to Amber." Immediately his expression turned very sour indeed!

     "On top of that," I continued, "I have reason to believe that he might be considering taking some form of action against you, and that is not only because you have tried to assassinate him. I'm not at liberty to tell you any more, though."

     "That's all rather vague, man," he said. "Can't you be just a little clearer?"

     "Nope, sorry," I said and I couldn't suppress a smile. "I've just completed an intensive course on being a true Amberite, so you understand that I can't tell you anything else."

     "So he wants to see me dead, does he?"

     "I guess that's one of the options under his consideration."

     "Well, okay... thanks, I guess, for warning me."

     "You're welcome," I said and broke contact. I guess I did rather well. I have to admit, though, that although I was a bit ashamed of it, I actually enjoyed that conversation. It gave me a feeling of being in control for a change, knowing more than the other guy did and not being under any obligation of telling him. Maybe that remark about becoming a true Amberite had some truth in it after all. And maybe that wasn't all so bad as it had always seemed to be. Whistling I tucked my Trumps away and went to find Diana to escort her to dinner.

      Diana seemed to be very tired and somewhat distant during the whole evening. I could feel her depression as I was sitting beside her at the dinner table, but I didn't really have a chance to talk to her, and besides talking might not have been the right thing at that moment. First let her rest, no, let both of us rest, and then we would be able to think and talk about it more clearly.

      Apart from that, dinner fortunately was rather uneventful. Besides  Diana and me, the attending relatives were Adrian, Murlas, Caine, Random, Vialle, Fiona, Flora, Gerard and Corwin. I took the seat next to the latter, and somewhere halfway through the meal asked him whether he would have some time for a talk. He agreed to see me in my room after dinner. I wanted to ask him about my Mother and Caine, but there was also something else that had sprung to mind, and for which I would need his cooperation.

      I didn't really make any other attempts at conversation with any of those present just then. However, Aunt Fiona subtly hinted that she also wanted to have a word with me, but I tried to tell her equally subtly that it would have to wait till the next day. It wasn't that I didn't want to talk with her, but I was really, really tired, and one conversation with an Elder was more than enough for one evening.

      Of course, with so many relatives present, rumours and gossip started flying around almost immediately. Many a stealthy look was shot in the direction of either Caine, Murlas, Diana, or me. For the most part I just ignored them, as did the others. I had asked Random to formally break the news about Diana being my daughter, which he did; at the same time he also, less formally, welcomed Caine back in Amber. Random made some remarks about there being some consequences on Diana's official status now that the identity of her father was known, but that didn't really interest either of us; her official status was just about the last thing on our minds.

      After dinner I escorted Diana back to her room. I kissed her goodnight and gave her a reassuring smile, trying to tell her that things would work out in due time. She didn't really seemed to be convinced; small wonder, when I didn't even seem to be able to convince myself.

      Back in my room I opened yet another bottle of wine (might as well, another glass wouldn't hurt that much) and started telling Uncle Corwin all my adventures. The only thing that I left out were my current relationship with Diana and Caine's peculiar relationship with my Mother. I didn't think it wise to mention the latter just yet; better first see what Corwin had to say about it.

      His general reaction was one of concern for Deirdre, Diana and me, and one of indignation at Caine's actions.

     "The bloody bastard," he cursed under his breath. "I've never agreed with his methods. He's always been like that; if Caine thinks that your death is necessary for the good of Amber, then you die for the good of Amber. And the problem is that he always manages to wind up at the right side."

     "I know what you mean," I said, "like this time..."

     "If only just once things wouldn't go right for him, then we would have a reason to take some form of action against him. But tell me, how was Deirdre?"

     "Well, I actually saw her for only a few moments, so I didn't really get a chance to talk to her."

     "I understand," he said. "She must have been very confused about what was happening to her. I hope you helped and supported her as much as you could, didn't you? Did she say anything, anything about me?"

     It was a little embarrassing to hear his voice get all dreamy like that. I didn't know what kind of image my dear Uncle cherished of my Mother, but it certainly didn't correspond to the determined woman who had been in total control right from the moment when she had come to.

     "As I said, I did't really talk to her," I replied cautiously. "She was rather concerned about getting her body back at that particular moment."

Corwin sighed.

     "Your mother is a very gentle person," he said. "I've always admired her for her kindness. You know, she hasn't got a mean or vicious streak like all of the others." No, this certainly didn't sound anything like my Mother.

     "She does seem to be a very special person," I said.

     "That she is, boy, that she is. I don't understand, though, why Caine felt it was his duty to bring her back? Not that I'm complaining that he did, but they've always hated each other. Everyone knows that..."

      I just took another sip of wine. I didn't know how or why, but it  seemed that Corwin entertained some very strange notions about my Mother. From the short time I had spent in her presence I'd say that she was as manipulative and vicious as any other Amberite, and her and Caine hating each other was just plain nonsense. I got the feeling that Corwin's shining image of Deirdre was one which she herself had deliberately constructed, and which none of the others had been able to destroy. Or maybe they hadn't even tried, laughing at his foolishness behind his back. I felt sorry for him. I wasn't going to shatter his illusions, though. That was something that I felt was up to my Mother, although if she wouldn't do it I might feel obliged to tell him later on. Not now, when it wouldn't make any difference... And yet, and yet, I wondered. It's hard to picture someone like Uncle Corwin being deceived like that. Maybe he was just pretending to have fallen for her schemes, maybe he knew better after all.

      Aaargh! These attempts at double-guessing my relatives were giving me a headache! Deep breath... Let it rest, I told myself. Don't dig too deep without a spade, for you might hurt your fingers on buried rocks, like my Uncle Jaro always used to say... Another sip of wine, another deep breath, another subject.

      "Uncle," I said, "there was something else I wanted to ask you.  There's so much that has been happening to me lately that I feel I need a bit of guidance, a pointer in the right direction, so to speak. Now I don't know if this is a wise idea, but after due consideration I have decided to spend a night in Tir-na Nog'th." As I spoke the name I could barely suppress a shiver. I had never been up there before, and no, I wasn't entirely convinced that it was a good idea to visit the ghost city, but where else can you go for advice when you don't have anyone to confide in?

      "I understand," Corwin said with a smile. "It's no problem. Just be careful with it, will you?" With that he unfastened his swordbelt and handed it to me. I returned his smile and accepted it. Of course it was what I had been meaning to ask him for: Grayswandir. I drew it partway, admiring its swirly silver design. Legend had it that there was some sort of connection between the sword and the city in the sky, but then legend tends to be very unclear on the precise nature of that connection. One thing was true, though: Grayswandir had power there. It was something Fiona had told me a long time ago. Apparently one is not usually able to interact with the visions and ghosts of moonlight, but there were certain things that could make such an interaction possible, and Corwin's sword was one of them. My smile turned to a grin when I thought of how I hadn't even had to ask him directly for it. Then I frowned. Is it so easy for others to guess at my intentions? If so, then I was still a long way from being a true Amberite.

      "Thank you," I said. "Maybe you would also be willing to accompany me when I go up there? From what I've heard I gather that it's wise to keep in Trump contact with someone on the ground, just in case..." He said he would be more than willing to help me. We agreed on going there the next night; I would need to be fully rested for my ordeal there.

      We drank some more wine, and I asked him what had kept him busy lately. He laughed and said that actually there hadn't been a whole lot happening to him and that he kind of liked it that way.

      "You know, Dorian, I never thought I'd say it but I'm not really bored. Oh sure, Random keeps me busy with things like that ambassador trip, but that's nothing compared to the time of the War. Today I find that I can sit at a window and gaze outside for hours without ever getting bored." I raised my eyebrows; Uncle Corwin going zen? I didn't know what to think of that.

      "In the past," he continued, "there was always something that I needed to do, that I needed to obtain. But when I finally reached some of my goals, like with Eric and the throne, I found that I didn't really want them after all. And then during my long years of imprisonment I got a good chance to think about what I wanted out of life. The conclusion I came to is very simple really: I don't particularly want anything anymore but to enjoy the niceties of life, like a good glass of wine, or a beautiful woman." He raised his glass to me as if to underline his words. I saluted him in return. I didn't know what to think of his professed new philosophy. If he was telling the truth, then I wished him all the best. I guess I might even want to join him some day. Then again it could all be another ruse, pretending to be indifferent to what was happening around him while secretively influencing things from behind the scenes. I sighed once again. There was just no way to be really certain about any of my relatives, I guess. Still, that idea of simply enjoying the good things in life kind of appealed to me. To be able to do that without anyone interfering in one's affairs was just about the biggest luxury imaginable for me...

      Corwin and I didn't talk much longer after that, since I did want to get a good night's sleep. Barely five minutes after he had left I was already in my bed drifting off to happier dreams, or so I hoped. At first my sleep wasn't troubled by anything out of the ordinary, but it seemed that even in my dreams I wouldn't be able to get much rest. Alarming visions started to appear and began swirling around in my head, dreams of blue coloured figures with cloven hoofs and big, menacing swords, running through the corridors of what seemed to be castle Amber. The nightmare was frightfully real, but knowing that it was but a vision I tried as hard as I could to get myself to wake up. Finally, after what seemed to be ages, the visions faded and I emerged from my sleep, only to hear the sounds of sword clanging onto sword out there in the corridor. Immediately I was wide awake. A sudden feeling took hold of me, a feeling of a weird and eerie power that was loose somewhere in the castle. I didn't have the slightest idea of what was happening, but it didn't feel good.

      I quickly slipped into a pair of trousers, grabbed Grayswandir with my one hand and my deck of Trumps with the other. Fear and concern held my heart in an icy grip as I shuffled out Diana's Trump and started concentrating. Something was keeping me from getting through to her, I could feel it. Even more concerned now, I exerted more pressure on my end, pushing and prodding until finally I broke through. I immediately realised my mistake. Diana was in the middle of a fierce combat with several of those blue figures I had seen in my dream, and she certainly didn't have time for me right now. Afraid to distract he any further I broke contact. Well, at least she seemed to be holding her ground against those guys. Guess she didn't need my help with that.

      Okay, so what was I going to do. Apparently the castle was under attack, but by whom? I could still feel that eerie power coming from somewhere real close. What was it? I started concentrating, then reconsidered and first moved to bar the door. If the assailants were all through the castle, they might come and check in on me, and I didn't relish the idea of them catching me unawares. Okay, that done I began focusing on the Pattern again. Right away it started shielding me a bit from that other power. Its reaction to it told me that the power could only be chaotic in nature: somebody was messing around with the Logrus here in Amber! I tried to locate the source of those Logrus emanations. They weren't all that strong, I found, and they seemed to be coming from a spot somewhere deep under the castle. This troubled me. Wasn't that where I had spent some time talking with Uncle Jaro when he had been on guard duty? That could only mean... Azrain! They were trying to get to him! They would have to be stopped! I would have to warn the others!

      Aside from the Logrus wielder downstairs I could feel several other power-sources moving around in the castle. Probably Aunt Fiona was one of them; she would know what to do. I dropped my Pattern and again went for my Trumps. There was no getting through to Fiona, though. I got the feeling that she was somewhere in the middle of the fray, engaged in some kind of duel. Pensively I looked at my Trumps. No, it would be no use to try and Trump one of the others, they must all be in the middle of it by now. Better try to find my way downstairs and see if I could help in any way. 

      I hauled the chair I had propped against the door out of the way and carefully stepped outside, Grayswandir in hand. It felt really good to have it with me, not a clumsy, unwieldy weapon, but a true extension of my own will. Its bright design gleamed in the twilight of the corridor, which was sparsely lit by one or two torches. Maybe I should try to find Corwin first and return his blade to him. I mean, it was his sword and he might really need it.

      My worries about that were soon discarded, though, when I reached the staircase where Corwin was easily holding a horde of those blue meanies at bay. Apparently he didn't really need a sword, for he had just taken hold of one of the attackers and was using him as a battering ram. While I was watching him I was startled by Random rushing by with a sword. He didn't pay me any attention instead heading straight for the battle. In a way it was a bit funny, seeing my two uncles fighting like that while they were barely dressed. I guess this attack had taken us all completely by surprise.

      My smile faded, as I suddenly wondered how this army had managed to enter the castle so easily, and without even any warning. I realised that there must be at least several ways in which this could be accomplished, but the first one to spring to mind was of course by means of the Trumps. Somebody must have supplied them with one or more Trumps of castle Amber providing them with the necessary transortation straight into the heart of our defenses. And my logical circuits didn't have to make too big a leap to see that in this case somebody probably equalled a relative. Bad news indeed! I smirked and greeted the dark bird Paranoia that settled on its now familiar spot on my shoulder and started whispering in my ear. Whom to trust? Whom to trust but myself?

      Okay, so I had to get down there myself and try to stop whatever was happening. However, seeing that the attackers were here on the third floor as well as somewhere in the dungeons, they might probably be present throughout the whole castle. This would make the task of getting down to the dungeons in time next to impossible. Not that I doubted Corwin's powers, or that of any of my relatives for that matter, but if somebody fom the Family were involved, then neither would the attackers. Okay, so was there another way for me to get down there aside from the now defunct  solution of walking. Hmm... There might be, but I wasn't certain that it was going to work. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained, I guess...

      Again I took out my Trumps, this time choosing my own. Actually I don't have any idea what would happen if one were to try and contact himself. I should ask Fiona about it; it might be an area in need of some further study. However, that wasn't what I had in mind. I began concentrating on the Trump, yes, but not on the Trump itself. Instead I focused my attention on the Pattern which was a part of every Amber Trump. My idea was to try to use that image of the Pattern as a Trump to transport me directly to the Pattern room. As I said before, I didn't know whether it was going to work or not; I had never even heard of anyone trying anything like that. But then this seemed to be a bit of an emergency and one just never knows...

      To my relief it did seem to work, one way or the other. The Pattern seemed to become more real in my mind and before I realised it I had automatically started to follow its twists and turns towards the centre. It was a strange sensation walking it like this, but in every regard it seemed to be the same as walking the actual physical thing, complete with veils and all. It was also as tiring as the real thing, but aside from that it was the first time that I really became aware of its beauty. To think that I used to be afraid of it. Not anymore! This was my heritage and I embraced it eagerly.

      How much time actually passed, merely a couple of seconds or even several minutes, I cannot say. The Pattern always seems to play tricks with my sense of time and this time it was even worse. Nevertheless, I finally found myself, or my mental image standing in its centre. Now, if this Pattern just would be so kind as to behave in the same way as the real thing...

      Suddenly I found myself standing in a dark and musty corridor. Towards my right I could see the faint, flickering light of some torches, while on my left strange, many-coloured flashes painted their ghostly pictures on the walls. Carefully I crept closer to those flashes to find out what was going on there. I rounded a corner and saw Fiona facing one of those blue guys. Both were wearing pretty concentrated expressions, throwing concentrated magic power at the other and in turn deflecting it. The fireworks accompanying their spells were those flashes I had seen. For a moment I stood there in indecision. I had realised by then that the place where I had seen the torches was in fact the guard station near Azrain's cell. Should I go there and stop anybody who may already be there to free him, or should I try to help Aunt Fiona? I could try to get close to that blue guy, so that I would be able to make him acquainted with Grayswandir, but that would be very tricky with all those spells flying around. I could go on alone, but I didn't really fancy that idea, remembering how easily Murlas had been overpowered by Azrain.

      While I was busy considering my options, I suddenly noticed something slipping across the magical battlefield, unnoticed by both the duellists. I didn't get a clear look at it, being partially blinded by those magical flashes, but I did get some impressions of an insect-like being with a lot of rapid, tiny legs racing it as quickly as possible in my direction. I pointed Grayswandir towards the creature, ready to strike at it at its first suspicious move. Before I could react, however, it moved into a shadowy spot and its shape started flowing into a more familiar one: within but a few seconds I stood face to face with Murlas. What the...?! He seemed to be as much surprised by our unexpected meeting here as I was. Well, I guess my new way of travelling wasn't exactly common knowledge, but then so were his shape shifting abilities. He was naked except for some personal jewelry and his deck of Trumps which he apparently had managed to hang onto.

      What was I to think of this? Okay, so Adrian's story had got me a bit used to the idea that this shape shifting business was something that all of us might be able to learn under the right circumstances, but to be so abruptly confronted with it was something else altogether. That... That thing that had just turned into my cousin had looked like something straight out of a horror movie! I felt really queasy at the thought that I would ever do anything like... like that!

      Calm down, my rational half started soothing me, it is a simple, natural thing. People in the Courts of Chaos do it all the time. Besides, you knew that Murlas' mother supposedly came from those parts, so it shouldn't be too surprising that he can do it too. And as for him not having told anybody, would you have? No, of course not; you don't go around parading your new Pattern skills, do you?

      These thoughts didn't entirely reassure me, though. I still felt repulsed by what I had just seen, but I forced myself to forget about it for the moment, since there were important things we needed to worry about. I noticed that Grayswandir was still pointing directly at Murlas. I lowered it and forced a smile. He forced one in return. He had been studying me as well. I wondered what he thought of my presence here.

      "Well, cousin," I said in my most casual sounding voice, "do you by any chance know what's going on here?"

     "They are trying to release Azrain from his prison," he replied. Well, I had already figured that out myself, but the way he said Azrain's name made it seem that he was on the right side, that being mine of course. I should have imagined that he would still hold a grudge against Azrain for taking over his body. But that wasn't all; he was trying to hide it, so it was very faint, but I was able to sense that he was actually afraid of the idea of Azrain being on the loose again. Okay, Murlas faking something like dislike for somebody I could believe, but certainly not fear. It seemed that I had just found me a companion whom I could at least trust as far as this mission was concerned.

      "Okay," I said, "we'd better go and check it out then."

     At the guard station we found several bodies in Amber uniforms. I was quite alarmed to find that Uncle Jaro was one of them. Quickly I kneeled down beside him and examined his wounds. He was still alive, but he needed some medical care really fast or he would surely die.

      "Come on!" Murlas hissed. I looked up and saw him standing at the cell door. It was closed and there was no way of telling what was waiting for us inside. Of course he didn't feel like going in on his own. But I couldn't leave Jaro here like that, could I? Could I? I looked at him once more. He really needed help quite badly. But then Murlas would have to confront Azrain alone. He had failed the first time. He really needed me too. I looked up at him again. He was regarding me urgently, as if to say that hesitating now might mean that we would be too late. I heaved a deep sigh and reached a decision. As much as I hated myself for it, I realised that I just had to help Murlas. If he were to go in alone and Azrain was already free, then he wouldn't stand a chance, and neither would I or Uncle Jaro for  that matter. No, taking out Azrain was of the highest priority. I just hoped that I wouldn't come to regret my decision...

      At Murlas' side I quickly scanned the door with my Pattern lens to see if the magical seals had been tampered with. They were all gone, and somebody was working with magical forces inside. It didn't look good.

     "We have to go in there," Murlas said. "Now listen, I have a certified way of taking out Azrain, but I have to get close to him to do it. If you go in first and distract them, I might get the opportunity to use it. You had better enter with your mind shielded too, just in case that Azrain is already awake." I hesitated but for a moment, and then moved to open the door. I probably should have asked him about that killer method of his, but there was just no time for it. Besides, if I couldn't trust him now, I might as well let him do it all alone.

      Without further delay I threw the door open and leaped into the room, Pattern firmly in mind and Grayswandir equally firmly in hand. Two of the three blue fellows inside immediately turned to face me with swords held high. The third was busy chanting something, apparently trying to free Azrain, who was still unconscious, from his magical bonds. Well, Murlas needed to get close, didn't he, so I simply launched an all-out attack on those two guards with no regard for my own well-being. Hey, if we didn't stop them now, there would be no way for us to survive this thing, would there?

      My opponents were sufficiently startled by my sudden attack for me to be able to push them back somewhat. However, they weren't amateurs; soon they recovered and began giving me a hard time. They were good, perhaps not as good as I was, but there was only one of me against two of them. I tried to hold them off, but there's only so much you can do on your own. One of them executed an elaborate attack which I had some trouble parrying. As our blades clashed I felt a sudden sharp pain in my side; the other guy had struck home. No time to stop to think about it. What was keeping that cousin of mine?

      Then he was there beside me, driving his own body like a kind of a wedge between my two opponents. The fool! The stupid, desperate, courageous fool! How was he supposed to fight these guys?  He didn't have any weapon at all!

      His move had saved me from an early grave, though, and it also gave me just enough room to finish off one of the two swordsmen. He jerked as Grayswandir slit into his body, eyes already glazing over. I quickly pulled my sword out again and turned to see Murlas pointing at Azrain. Something flashed from his outstretched finger, something magical. Before I could do anything the second guard moved up from behind him and ran him through. I could see the swordpoint exiting his body, the blood starting to flow from the wound, the incredulous look in Murlas' eyes as he slumped forward. I swung Grayswandir and in a silver flash beheaded the guard before he had a chance to pull his sword free. Two down, two to go.

      I whirled around. Azrain was lying on the ground with the third blue guy standing over him, still chanting as if he hadn't noticed what was going on around him. Without so much as a thought I skewered him too, then turned my attention to Azrain. Not many of his magical restraints were left and by the looks of it he was very close to regaining consciousness. Not that that was the thing that was foremost on his mind at the moment, for he was busy being strangled by something that from my reaction to it could only be a part of the Logrus. Murlas' killer method? Probably. Where had he dug that up, though? Never mind, ask him later, if he's still alive, if I'm still alive...

      At my feet Azrain continued his gagging and jerking, but I could see that the Logrus strangling cord wouldn't be enough to finish him off. I looked at Grayswandir. It glittered and gleamed invitingly in my hand. Come on, it seemed to say, it's so easy. Just one thrust and you're rid of him, we will all be rid of him. He's Evil, the Enemy, as long as he's around Amber will not be safe. Imprisoned he will still be a risk. You have seen what lengths his allies will go to to release him, so don't give them a reason to try again.

      Yes, but to kill an unarmed, defenseless man, just like that, in cold blood? I didn't want that on my conscience. But then I would just have to wait, wouldn't I? Wait and see what would happen. Whether Azrain would survive Murlas' deadly trap or not. And if he did, what then? Hopefully by then some help would have arrived. I knew that i could not face him alone. Hopefully...

      The piece of the Logrus was slowly losing its strength and Azrain, although somewhat blue by now, was still among the living and planning to stay that way. No. Once again Grayswandir flashed forward, piercing him and pinning him to the floor. As the sword struck there was a flash of bright silver light from Azrain's body and the Logrus cord winked out of existence. I pulled the sword free. The body was still twitching. I struck him again, and again, until he stopped moving altogether. I heaved a sigh. There, it was done. No more Azrain.

     For a minute or so I stood staring at his now lifeless body, before I turned away. I wanted to wipe Grayswandir clean, but I found that it wasn't necessary: all of the blood had miraculously dripped from the sword leaving its design unmarred. I sheathed the blade and turned to check on Murlas. He lay slumped against a wall, breathing heavily and barely conscious. His wound looked very bad to me, but it seemed to be a clean one; fortunately for him that sword hadn't been a poisoned blade. I tore some pieces from Azrain's clothing to dress the wound and stop the bleeding. It wasn't as if he would have any need for it anymore...

     As I was bandaging him up I saw that Murlas' body was acting a bit strangely. It seemed that the flesh around the wound was crawling and moving as if it had a life of its own. I realised that it was probably connected to his shape shifting abilities, but I found it pretty disconcerting and as soon as I had bound him I moved away.

     Suddenly I remembered something which in all the excitement I had completely forgotten. I sprinted back into the corridor and panting for breath I kneeled down beside Uncle Jaro. Quickly I checked his pulse. Yes! It was faint, but it was there. He was still alive. I hurried to dress his wounds, using strips I tore from his own cloak, so that his condition wouldn't deteriorate any further. It helped. I'm not much of a doctor, but I had the feeling that he would live. Almost automatically I moved on to care for his fallen comrades, many of whom were severely wounded and even a few cases where my help came too late.

     While I was busy moving from body to body, I could feel the magical energies further down the corridor reach their crescendo, although this didn't really register with me. A few minutes later I looked up as somebody in the passing touched my shoulder. It was Fiona. The thin nightgown she was wearing looked a bit scorched at the edges, but for the rest she seemed to be okay. She walked on to Azrain's cell and I continued helping the guards.

     After another minute or so she returned and started giving me a hand. She smiled at me wearily, but we didn't speak a word. I felt emotionally and physically completely drained. This just wasn't the time for conversation. Later, we would talk about this later. I was just glad that Fiona seemed to understand how I felt. When every surviving guard had been bandaged she took out her Trumps and started arranging transportation to the infirmary. I leaned against the wall, a bit exhausted and dizzy. And all I had wanted was a good night's sleep...

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