Chapter 055: Overshadow Revisited
"I'm
not a Hero, I'm not a Saviour,
Forget
what you know
I'm
just as man whose circumstances
Went
beyond his control"
Mr.
Roboto - Styx
A few hours of sleep, a shower and a shave, and I felt just about ready
to face the world again. Since the war council had carried on well into the
night, it wasn't all that early when I awoke, so I wasn't surprised to find the
children and Anna already gone from their chambers. I sent a nearby servant off
to inquire after their whereabouts, and a few minutes later he reported back
with the news that they were having breakfast with none other than Queen Vialle.
He included some directions to the appropriate sitting room, although these
proved not to be necessary, for it was very hard to ignore all the noise that
was generated there.
"That's my roll!" I heard Dennis shout when I was close enough
to identify the individual voices, immediately followed by Vialle's assuaging
tones: "Now, now, children, there's enough for all of you. Would you like a
cup of tea, dear?"
"Yes, please, ma'am." That had to be Vilcon; he was the only
one of them who could manage that shy tone of voice. With a smile on my face I
glanced round the corner, surveying the round breakfast table turned
battlefield. My children were caught in various acts of eating, quarreling or
playing (or a combination of these three), whilst Anna did her very best to keep
them in line. She did't seem to be entirely at ease herself, though, probably
because she felt that it was not right for her to sit at the same table as the
Queen. She would undoubtedly get used to it, when she'd got to know Vialle a
little bit better. Vialle presided over the whole tableau with an air of amused
indulgence, propped against several soft cushions in her large throne-like
chair. Her wide green dress did much to hide her condition, but from observing
her somewhat strained movements you could tell that the child was due any time
now. Somehow she must have sensed me standing there, for she turned towards me
with an inquiring expression on her face.
"Good morning all," I said cheerfully to identify myself. Over
all the children's greetings I barely managed to make out Vialle's invitation to
join them. A servant provided me with a clean plate and a knife, a second
cleaned away some puddles of spilled milk on the table, and a third provided me
with a spare seat.
"Laura," I said sternly, "a little less would do."
Innocently she looked up from her task of trying to get as much strawberry jam
on a piece of toast as was possible, the evidence of which was all over her
hands, face and even dress. Anna rushed to her side right away, muttering while
trying to clean her up as best she could. I glanced at Vialle with an apologetic
expression, but she merely smiled. Kids would be kids, and that was just the way
that she seemed to like them best. And it must be said that they liked her a lot
too, even to the point where Vilcon, who is never much at ease with other
people, remarked to her how beautiful the palace really was. Yes, I felt I had
done right in bringing the lot of them here for a while.
In between all the chattering and pleas for me to make them a sandwich or
pour them some tea I managed to get a bite to eat myself. More important than
that, for the first time in ages I felt myself really starting to relax, and it
was scary how good it felt. It woudn't last of course, but still I was
determined to make of it what I could.
After some time the children had all finished their breakfast and started
clamouring to be excused so that they could run off and play. Anna fussed over
them one last time, scolding some of them for the mess they had made, but Vialle
calmy assured her that all of that would be taken care of, so with a final
goodbye and a whoop of joy they were off, leaving the room behind in a sudden
silence. Vialle smiled at me once again and with unerring precision poured me a
fresh cup of tea. Sometimes you would almost forget about the fact that she was
blind.
Now that we were alone, I discreetly inquired whether Random had already
told her about what had happened in the Courts. She frowned slightly and sighed;
yes, she had heard the news, but she didn't want to talk about it right now.
Alright, suited me fine. Why spoil such a perfectly good mood by talking about
murder and betrayal? Instead we kept our discussion quite light, talking a bit
about Amber itself and some of the milder rumours that abounded about its
nobility. The only thing Vialle was really interested in from me was to hear how
all my cousins were doing, so I supplied that information as truthfully as
possible, while on the other hand skirting around many of the more unpleasant
subjects.
As always, when something nice is happening to you, something comes along
to disturb your pleasures. I was just taking a sip of tea when I felt some faint
stirrings of a Trump contact. It was not as if someone was desperately trying to
reach me, but still, the Trumps are not mere toys, are they? I politely informed
Vialle that I was getting a call, and then gently opened myself up for whoever
it was that wanted to talk to me this time.
As a matter of fact it was someone I hadn't seen in a long time, namely
my cousin Rinaldo.
"Hi," he said with a broad grin. "I
heard you were back." Talk about news spreading like wildfire, my return
had apparently reduced most of the Golden Circle to ashes.
"And so I am," I said calmly.
"You know, I was thinking, you and I should
have a little talk. Does this afternoon suit you?" Well, he didn't beat
about the bush. I also wanted to talk to him, though, so why not?
"Sure," I said, "I have no other
appointments."
"You have one now. I'll Trump you later and
bring you through." And he was gone. Sigh. There must be a way to construct
some kind of Trump answering machine for these kind of calls.
I continued my little morning tea with Vialle until she decided to retire
for a little rest. I wandered through the corridors for a while, till I reached
the library. Yes, a nice read on such a quiet morning would be just the thing.
Rummaging through the fiction section I finally came up with a novel that one of
my relatives had apparently brought back with them from Shadow Earth. With my
prize I withdrew to my own chambers, making sure that I was brought a fresh pot
of tea and some biscuits to nibble on, and I proceeded to engross myself in the
French tale of the adulterous romantic wife who ultimately takes her own life. I
appreciated the writer's stark sense of realism, athough certain passages must
have been quite shocking to the novels original audience, and with a bit of
nostalgia I thought back to the old me. I used to be quite a romantic, once, but
how much of that old Dorian remained after all I had been through? I certainly
would never take my own life like that woman in Flaubert's novel, or would I?
Memories of Charles' story of his late son Alan came to me at that moment and I
sighed. I couldn't deny that there were times when I just wanted an end to
everything, since it would probably be the only way that I could really be at
peace, but suicide? No, I firmly decided that it would have to take quite a lot
to make me ever take that final step. But still, I couldn't deny that the urge
was there, somewhere inside me...
My reveries were interrupted by a Trump call. It was Rinaldo, as
expected, and immediately he extended a friendly hand to help me through. I
found myself in a comfortable sitting room, which as Rinaldo informed me was in
his palace in Kashfa where he had the privilege of being the king. Kashfa, I
recalled, was one of these Shadows that were just outside of the Golden Circle.
They were always clamouring about being included in the treaty as well, or so I
remembered, and I sincerely hoped that Rinaldo had not invited me here to
discuss these matters, for I didn't think I had the authority to negotiate in
such affairs.
Rinaldo poured me a cup of coffee, and when I remarked upon it as being a
damned fine cup he explained that it was from a local crop and if I was
interested he could easily supply me with a couple of tons worth of beans. I
gracefully declined, never having been one for that kind of business deals. We
chatted a bit, and he told me that things were going very well for him here. His
only real problem had been the untimely demise of his double, the Patternghost
that I had seen at Corwin's Pattern. The ghost had really been the one who had
acted the part of the king, while Rinaldo himself had his hands free to see to
other things. Now, however, he was a bit stuck here, although he assured me he
did like the job, only it used to be so much better as only a part-time
occupation. Also, since he hadn't learned about his double's death immediately,
things had been in rather a mess when he had first got back here.
"But let's get down to business," Rinaldo said, dispensing with
all the smalltalk. "I want you to think back in time a little bit to a
certain Trump conversation we had. I'm sure you remember: you warned me about a
certain situation and the person that was involved in it. I asked for more
details, but you claimed that you had told me all that you could tell me at that
moment. Well, I took your advice to heart and kept on the look-out for any
danger since then, but as I said I'm rather tied up in Kashfa and I don't have
as much freedom of movement as I used to have. And frankly, I don't like the
idea of being on my guard for something that I know so very little about. So, I
thought I'd Trump my good cousin Dorian and have a nice little chat with him.
I'm sure that we will be able to help each other along quite nicely."
He looked at me with an expectant grin, but I studiously avoided his gaze
for the moment and sipped my coffee. I knew all too well what he was talking
about, of course, including the name of the person that he had so casually
refrained from mentioning: our dear uncle Caine. Somehow, it always came back to
him. The matter Rinaldo was referring to was the possibility that Caine might go
after him, not because of a vendetta or something, but to make sure that there
would be no possibility to repeating the blood ritual he had conducted with my
daughter Diana, but this time using Rinaldo's blood instead. The reason that I
hadn't explained all the details to my cousin before was that I was a little
worried that the information might indeed inspire him to try the ritual, and I
didn't want to bear the personable responsibility for the return of Brand.
And this problem hadn't changed: the fact that Rinaldo had come back to
me for more information indicated that he still didn't know about the possible
means of returning his father to Amber (if he was still alive, that is). So I
had two choices: either tell him or not. Hmm, if I did, here would still be a
chance that he wouldn't use the information, and he would be more or less in my
debt. Actually, I didn't know all that much about Rinaldo's feelings for his
long lost father, but if he really wanted him back, he surely must have been
already trying all kinds of things and surely someone would have noticed. Also,
if I didn't tell him, he would perhaps become less friendly towards me, and
there was a good chance that he might be able to come up with the relevant
information himself if he only did the right amount of research. Wherever Caine
had got the details of the ritual, I was sure that Rinaldo would be able to get
them as well. Weighing all these pros and cons in my mind, there seemed in the
end only one possible choice for me. Screw Caine and his worries and screw the
possibility of Brand returning. We'd cross that bridge when we came to it. I put
down my cup and finally returned Rinaldo's gaze.
"Alright," I said, "what do you know about the return of
my mother?"
"Ah," He said knowingly, "I think I
see the problem. Well, I can imagine Caine being anxious about my father making
a reappearance in the same way, but I haven't heard any of the specifics yet, so
pray, continue."
"The basis for my mothers return was a
ritual," I said, "which involved the blood of a female descendant of
hers. In this case it was Diana."
"I see," he said with a suddenly
mirthless smile. "And since I'm Brand's only male descendant that we know
of, Caine thinks that I will assent to the same procedure, does he? I must say
that I'm rather attached to my own blood, if you catch my drift."
"I understand," I replied, "but
Caine may not. He has this reputation of taking no risks, doesn't he? And like
you said yourself, you are the ony known male descendant of Brand's..."
"Damned! This is more than a little annoying.
I had put an end to that vedetta business because I wanted to continue living in
relative peace and quiet, but there's not much chance of that if Caine keeps on
haunting me. How much priority does this matter have for him do you think?"
"I couldn't say," I confessed. I knew
that Caine would probably still be in the Courts, but there was simply no
telling what he might be up to as soon as one lost sight of him.
Rinaldo lapsed into silence, pondering his lot, so I simply poured myself
another cup of coffee. Suddenly I felt another Trump contact coming on, a bit
faint this time. I indicated to Rinaldo that I was getting a call and accepted.
It was Melusine, of all people. I got an urge to say something about it being a
have-distant-and-estranged-relatives-Trump-Dorian day, but I immediately sensed
that she wasn't in the mood for pleasantries.
"At last!" she snapped. "Hurry, there is no time to
explain. Grab a weapon and come through. You're the only one I have been able to
contact." She noticed where I was and added: "Rinaldo's there too?
Fine, bring him along. Martin has disappeared. We have to hurry." She
extended her hand towards me, but I didn't clasp it right away. Instead I
quickly explained to Rinaldo what was up and asked him whether he could get me a
sword, since I had of course left home without one. He hurried off and returned
shortly with a sturdy and functional sword for me and a beautiful golden one for
himself. I thought I saw some traces of the Pattern glitter upon its blade, and
I resolved to ask him about it when I got the chance. Rinaldo had also put on a
short leather coat for protection, which was of course a bright idea. However,
there wasn't time for me to get one as well, for Melusine was getting more
impatient by the second.
As we stepped through to her I noticed that here was something odd about
the Trump contact itself, and immediately upon arrival I figured out what had to
be the cause. You see, I could feel we were not anywhere in Shadow, nor were we
in Amber or the Courts. Combined with the feeling of pressure that I got, there
was only one place that we could be: the Overshadow. Oh dear. Fortunately, the
pressure wasn't as strong as it had been during my first visit, and I found that
I could move about without too much hindrance. We were in a dimly lit corridor
in what appeared to be some kind of castle, and it struck me that it was
unnaturally cold in here. Quite inconvenient, for aside from a sword I had also
forgotten to bring a cloak. I noticed that the reason why the Overshadow's usual
tendency of crushing people wasn't bothering me so much was because of
Melusine's efforts to keep it at bay. I couldn't tell exactly what she was
doing, but I figured that I would be more or less safe as long as I didn't try
to leave the castle.
"Alright," I said, "lead on. You can explain yourself
along the way."
"I don't have a map of this place, if that's
what you think," she said testily, leading us through the corridors.
"I don't know where Martin is, and we're under attack at this very moment.
I need your help to beat them off, then after that to search for him."
Okay, that was a rather short explanation, but I guessed we were really pressed
for time.
While we were hurying through the corridor and up the stairs, I caught
some snatches of very strange and unsettling sounds, and when we passed through
the door that led to the battlements the sounds grew much louder. A number of
metal humanoid constructions of black and silver colour were busy defending the
castle from the attacking force, which consisted of a nearly endless wave of
horrifying creatures that howled piercingly as they advanced. They had the
general features of human beings, but all of them were horribly disfigured, each
shape differing from the next. There were some general similarities, however:
they were all naked and there was no sign of hair on any part of their bodies,
and they had long arms ending in thin long claw-like fingers. From what I saw
they didn't appear to be too intelligent, their general tactics simply being
trying to climb to the top of the walls and killing everyone they found there.
They had no regard for their fallen comrades, instead using their bodies to
build a mound that would ease their climb.
The sight of all those white naked bodies swarming all over each other
against the dark night sky was really quite gruesome, but it seemed that the
robots had managed to beat the attackers off so far. I looked on while Melusine
quickly gave them some new instructions, shivering all the while. It was even
colder out here than inside, and I could even see some snow on the ground
outside and on the battlements. The wind was getting stronger too, I felt, and
there might be a snow storm building. Great.
"Is there anything else we need to know?" I asked Melusine.
"Magic doesn't quite work here like it does in
Shadow," she said, "but sharpened steel will do the job. The attacks
come in waves, each one stronger than he last. The first one was no problem for
us, but te last one nearly got through, and now Martin is gone too." That
seemed to be enough. The castle's structure appeared to be largely triangular in
shape, with three long walls that needed to be defended, so it was rather
fortunate that I had been at Rinaldo's when Melusine had called me. There was
something about that call that was bothering me, though, for somehow I couldn't
quite believe that I had simply been the only one who she had been able to
Trump. Why Melusine should call me in the first place was also rather a mystery,
but it was best to save that for later. We first had
some fighting to do.
I quickly lost all sense of time in trying to keep the attackers from the
walls, so I can't say how long the battle lasted. It must have been pretty long,
though, and all the while there was hardly any time to catch my breath and rest
a little. Rinaldo had given the robots some extra orders, so that they formed a
kind of second line of defence with their laser weapons, while we three
Amberites rushed to and fro along our walls, kicking and slashing and generally
making life difficult for these howlers. During the short breathers that I was
allowed I tried to come up with some constructive way to undermine the attack.
Perhaps if we could use fire to deter them, I reasoned, so I tried to get one
going. Tough luck, though: there were no flammable materials to be found on the
battlements and the robots' lasers didn't ignite the howlers but merely produced
scorched wounds. Nevertheless, once I got the opportunity, I tried setting fire
to the mound of bodies outside the wall with the help of one of the robots, but
all to no avail.
Meanwhile more and more howlers were gaining access to the walls, and we
had to strain harder and harder to kick them off again. The only good thing was
that all the effort was keeping me relatively warm. I must also have been tiring
a bit, but once I had got into the rhythm of the fight I hardly noticed it. It
would undoubtedly hit me later, if there was going to be any later.
The wind was definitely picking up and there was no ignoring those dark
clouds drawing nearer. The temperature was dropping even further too. The
perfect circumstances for such a battle really, and I didn't even know what I
was doing here. Saving Martin, yes, but from what? What had he and Melusine been
doing here and why in the name of the Unicorn did they have to drag me into it?
I really should learn how to say "No!" in these situations, and soon.
We fought on and on and on, until the threatening storm finally broke
over us. One moment there was nothing, the next moment the sky was filled with
an infinite number of snowflakes, almost blinding our sight. Fortunately, we
weren't the only ones who were affected by the weather, for almost immediately
the attack abated and after only a minute it had stopped altogether. I couldn't
say whether they had gone in search of shelter or whether the snow and immense
cold had killed them outright, but I wasn't going to stick around and find out.
The three of us hurried through the door into the castle, where we stopped to
catch our breath. Inside it was hardly much warmer than outside and it seemed as
if the cold was working its way upwards through the castle, coming from
somewhere inside its deepest dungeons. Shivering I wrapped my arms around
myself, wishing we would soon find Martin and go home. This was simply no place
for me to be.