Chapter 084: Have A Drink, My Friend

             "You've got venom in your stomach

              You've got poison in your head

              When your conscience whispered

              The vein lines stiffened

              You were walking with the dead"

                                    He Knows You Know - Marillion

As the meeting broke up, the usual small clusters of people began to assemble for some further discussion of events, or to work out the similarly usual deals or nefarious plans. Boadice politely hurried to Adrian's side and convinced him of the possible benefits of a conversation in private, no doubt hoping to find some way of shielding her sister Yaslin from his intentions of bringing her to justice. I figured she'd need a lot of fast talking to pull this off, but then that was something she was good at. I didn't have much time to contemplate their get-together, however, for someone else stepped forward both to gain my attention and to obscure the departing twosome from view. It was brother Murlas with a similar proposition for private parley, since our chat before the meeting had been rather short and superficial. Although the sharp opinions he'd voiced earlier still lay fresh in my mind, I felt I'd better forget about all that for now; after all, the matters had all more or less been decided, and the two of us needed to make some further arrangements concerning our private investigation of Brand's legacy.

There were sitting rooms aplenty in this part of the castle, which lay in the more private wing, close to most Amberites' personal quarters, so a conveniently empty one was easily found. I started by telling Murlas that I had tried to contact him earlier, and he explained that he had simply refused all Trump calls while the news of Flora's betrayal had not yet been commonly known. He had had one short conversation with her after my disappearance to try and find out what had happened to me, but she had flatly denied having seen me, which had been enough for him to draw his conclusions. I told him about my own confrontation, even including the bit about the drugged cup of coffee. Might as well be honest about my stupidity. I also elaborated a bit on the story of our escape from the other Reality, giving him an account of the state we had found the Nexus in and our peculiar rescueing of Galoran. When Random had asked me before whether Brand's prophecy might not be referring to Lothair and his bunch, I had said that I really didn't know, but as I had remarked at the time I also couldn't be certain that this might not be the case after all, and if Murlas and me were to continue our investigation any and all information could be essential. The fact that the Enemy had been able to overpower Galoran and hold him prisoner in his own Nexus didn't seem to impress Murlas all that much, but when I cited some of Galoran's past feats, such as the way he had arranged his own escape or his juggling act with the Nexus twisters on the Overshadow, he had to agree that we shouldn't underestimate either him or the Enemy.

Of course, I had to confess to him that I had had to tell Random about the prophecy and the circumstances under which we had learnt about it, but he took this rather well. "He is the King," he said with a slight shrug. When I told him about Martin being the main focal point for Random's anger and frustration, however, he quite took the King's side, remarking rather sharply that he could understand how Random felt. I had the impression that my brother carried some kind of grudge against the King's son, but I couldn't say I knew what it was all about.

Turning towards the immediate future and our further plans, we agreed that we still needed to dig deeper and perhaps try to make contact with some other surviving members of Brand's original inter-Shadow study group, like we had discussed before. After all, it didn't seem likely that Brand would be coming to his senses very soon, and besides, gathering some more information from rather neutral parties would perhaps make his story more acceptable to our relatives and to other people in power. As for me, I needed Janice Fabre's connections to get in touch with the reclusive Flauron of Grahl, so my path would first lead back to Quendor. I told Murlas of the Enemy's presence I had sensed there during my last visit, and we both concluded that a trip to Quendor would be likely to turn into a prolonged stay. Although he had been busy with other things, like Chaosian politics, Murlas had found out that there was indeed a Minor House in the Courts by the name of Sandwick, but he had had no confirmation as yet that the Melkoth from Brand's list was still alive.

"And there have been other matters to keep me occupied," he admitted. "I have taken some time to look into those strange powers of Azrain and Lothair's; how they work, where they come from, that sort of thing. It seems my cousin would be able to tell me more about these things."

"Your cousin?" I asked, mystified as to who of us Amberites he might be referring to.

"My cousin Aradia," he replied. "We could have quite an interesting conversation between the two of us."

Aradia again. So the rumour that she was Tirga of Ysarn's daughter was true. Interesting. And apparently a lot of people were out looking for her. How close actually was this kinship between her and Murlas, I wondered. Twice that I had seen her she had displayed this strange power, and Azrain had been able to use it too. And he had been Murlas's brother. How come brother dearest had never shown signs of possessing the same kind of abilities? Or did he have them too, but had he simply been able to keep them hidden until now? And then there was this possibility of a kinship between him and Ornach, I suddenly recalled, or at least it was something that had been hinted at during their first conversation, at the time when I had been faking my madness to fool the Pattern. Then again I had never seen or heard of Ornach or any of his relatives using such powers. So where did that leave me? Completely mystified, that was where. I could of course have asked Murlas outright what the deal was, but I doubt very much whether I would have got a straight answer. As it was, I was even surprised by the little information he had volunteered of his own accord. Sometimes I got the feeling that during these conversations of ours it would be mainly me who was providing the information and him the opinions.

Anyway, I managed to get back to the topic of the prophecy and our separate leads. Murlas offered me the hospitality and resources of House Ysarn, since I would be returning to the Courts to find this Flauron, but I reckoned dealing with the situation in Quendor would take a lot of time, so it would be a while before I would be able to take him up on his offer. He suggested passing the matter of the Enemy presence there on to someone else to save time; someone like Fiona or Bleys for instance, since it had been their Shadow and since neither of them were in cahoots with said Enemy (as far as we knew). It would be a serious option for later, I felt, but first I wanted a shot at finding out what was going on myself and I wanted to get a chance to talk to Miss Fabre. Murlas furthermore raised the unpleasant possibility that Quendor might not be the only place with a clearly established Enemy presence, and he said that he would certainly be on the look-out for any other similar strongholds elsewhere in Shadow.

Just before we seemed about to end our conversation Murlas happened to mention the pile of Brand's notes and papers that we had split between us. Well, there was nothing for it but to come clean and tell him that my half was now in Flora's possession. His only comment was a slightly raised eyebrow, but he then surprised me by letting on with a wry smile that he wasn't too sure he would be able to produce his half either. He did seem bothered about this, though, yet I reminded him that we had more or less got the gist of it during the day we had spent reading and studying the whole package. And it was not as if we were proper experts on the matter anyway, nor did we have the time to become so. If we really wanted to know more about these issues, we either had to find some more of Brand's erstwhile colleagues or try and bring the man himself to his senses, with all the possible nasty consequences that might ensue.

As the two of us stepped out of the sitting room to rejoin the others, we nearly bumped into Adrian and Boadice coming out of the opposite chamber. Both had a harried look, yet when Adrian caught sight of me, he immediately grabbed my arm and steered me back inside, saying that he urgently needed to talk to me. Looking over my shoulder I caught one last glance of Murlas half sincerely and half mockingly inviting Boa to lead them back to the main dining hall. Apparently, the apology he'd offered her earlier had quenched all their need for further private conversation. Then the door was shut, and I turned to face my cousin, the King.

Instead of meeting my gaze, Adrian momentarily shut his eyes and sighed.

“Please," he said in a soft, yet strained voice, "will you shield this room? I don't want there to be a chance of anyone overhearing this."

I nodded and quickly wove a fabric of Pattern lines around the room, but over my shoulder I said: “You know this isn't a hundred percent full proof, don't you?"

He shrugged. "It'll have to do."

While I was busy with my Pattern weave, Adrian walked over to the drinks' cabinet and poured himself a rather large glass of wine. He'd been drinking heavily all evening, I had noticed, and now that there wasn't anyone else around to distract me I sensed something of the troubled emotional state he was in: insecurity, grief, and fear all seemed to feature quite strongly there. I studied him as he emptied his glass in one go and immediately poured himself another one, filling a glass for me as a sort of an afterthought.

He chuckled mirthlessly and said: "You do have a way of getting from one hell into another, don't you? Yet you usually appear to land on your feet…"

Now it was my turn to shrug. I hadn't really thought of it like this, and I felt that I had paid my dues getting out of some of these hells he was referring to. I took the drink he offered me, and this time he finally would meet my gaze. I had to suppress a flinch, for his grief was like an open sore. His look carried those same emotions I had sensed before, only more intense. Without breaking this contact we sat down and I waited for him to begin.

"You may have noticed," he finally said, "last time you were in Sherwyn, that we have managed to shut out the Enemy's influence completely." I nodded. There'd been rumours to that effect. "Yet there was a price…" He sighed. "I don't know whether it's right for me to tell you this, but I'm doing so for the sake of the bond between your mother and my father. And for the sake of all those drinks we shared between the two of us.

"As I said, there was a price to pay. I'm paying my part, but Corwin's really bearing the brunt of it. It's all because of what I did to sever their link to Sherwyn. You could say I solved one problem by creating a new one. Now, I know you're more adept than others in the ways of the Pattern, but this concerns a different situation and a different Pattern. Still, I think, or I hope, that you might be able to help, or at least find someone who is." He blinked and took another sip of wine. Could those be tears in his eyes? Was he really so close to losing his self-control?

"This is really an impossible situation," he sighed. "I've no way of knowing who can be trusted, but I must find some kind of solution soon. So I had to make a choice." And he had chosen to trust me. Even after the way we had drifted apart lately, I was still the one he turned to in his hour of need. I was touched, of course, but also slightly humbled, for I realised that I might not have done the same thing if our roles had been reversed. Now that he had let his mask slip a little, it was more than apparent that he did indeed have a huge problem, but despite his decision to place his trust in me he clearly had the good sense not to tell me everything right away.

"I can't say I know what's been going on," I said, "but I've seen how powerful the Enemy is, so I can imagine something of what your actions must have cost you. And yes, I do want to help you, but I assume that before you can discuss the specifics with me, you require some form of assurance of my good intentions, don't you?" Adrian nodded slowly. "Okay, how do you want to do this?"

"I'm not sure…," he began, then hesitated. "Do you think you really might be able to help? Or at least to contribute to some kind of solution?"

"To be honest, I don't know. You haven't told me the specific nature of your problem yet, you've only hinted at the scope. Now, you've let on that it has something to do with the Pattern in Sherwyn, so yes, I might be able to help, but I can't say for certain."

"Alright," he said, "then it comes down to this, a mutual gesture of good faith." His hand reached for his belt and produced a plain knife which he laid on the table. Then he tossed back the last of his wine and beckoned me to do the same. Placing the two now empty glasses next to one another beside the blade, he said: "I need a little of your blood, please." Naturally, I hesitated, but now that he had decided on this leap of faith Adrian had no time to waste. In a completely business-like manner he rolled up his left sleeve, took the knife, and drew a quick cut across his wrist. Calmly he held his hand over what had been my glass and let the slow trickle of his blood pour into it, until it stopped of its own accord. The cut had fortunately not been too deep, leaving the glass about one quarter full.

"I could ask you to drink this," Adrian said, "but I won't, cause I don't know what the consequences would be. For this is part of the problem. Probably… I would like a bit of yours, though." To drink? What kind of weird, sick deal was this? Still, he had made the first move, and looking into his eyes I realised I could not back down now. So, I rolled up my sleeve too and filled his glass with an equal amount of deep crimson liquid from my own veins. As I handed him back his glass, he toasted me, and before I could say anything he put the rim to his lips and threw back his head, downing the grissly drink in one go. He shut his eyes and a peculiar calm seemed to come over him, but then suddenly his eyes flared wide open again in wonder and amazement. At the same time an all but too familiar orange glow briefly shone as a halo around him, although he barely seemed to notice this himself. Somehow I got the feeling that this wasn't at all what he had expected. There were definitely tears streaming down his face now, but it was relief I sensed from him, not pain or grief. He suddenly looked much better than he had done only a moment before.

"Your blood…," he gasped. "It's… different. I haven't felt like this, like myself, for ages. I've drunk quite a lot of blood by now, but this…"

"Hold on," I said. "What were you expecting to happen?" The sound of my voice seemed to steady him. He absent-mindedly wiped his tears away and faced me more fully.

"Alright," he said, "what I'm about to tell you is to stay strictly between us. Others would almost certainly use this information to their own advantage…" I nodded. We both knew the stakes. He took a deep breath, looking for some logical starting point. "You were in Sherwyn a short while ago," he said, "so you may have noticed that the general mood has become a lot darker from what it used to be. That is because of what we did to drive out the forces of the Enemy. I originally discussed our options with our Pattern, but it appeared that only Corwin could do what was necessary, so he did it. It had been my mistake, though, so I helped out as best as I could. As a result, both of us need to consume blood now, although Corwin requires quite a bit more than I do. You see, we did something to our Pattern, and Its link really works both ways. It too requires sustenance. That means sacrifices, human sacrifices. Sherwyn is a complete mess."

He'd started crying again, and this time he turned away from me, uneasy in his grief. "The way I feel at this moment," he said, "because of your blood, is totally undeserved and even seems a bit alien to me. The hunger has been sated more than ever before. The way I usually feel nowadays, this dark craving, is the burden I have to bear, the price I have to pay, but it's not enough. It's never enough. It doesn't cover the attrocities I've committed or the ones I'm still driven to every day."

A Blood Curse. He had resorted to a Curse to sever his ties with the Enemy. And now it was slowly killing him. And Corwin  too. Damn, how could he have been so desperate to try something like this? Why had he not come to me for help earlier, before he had got himself totally stuck in this corner? But I knew why, for he had simply thought like an Amberite and had tried to deal with his own problems as best as he could. And I also understood that his coming to me now meant he must really be teetering on the edge.

I took a step forward and lightly, reassuringly, placed a hand on his shoulder. "I still cannot guarantee whether I will really be able to help you," I said, "but I would like to try."

He turned slightly to face me. "Thank you," he sighed. "I'll be in your debt."

"We'll see about that later," I said. "This is the kind of burden no one ought to bear. Anything I can do to ease your situation, I'll gladly do." Perhaps I put a bit too much conviction in my words, but hell, of all the people he could have asked I was but one of the few who could truly understand how he felt. Anyway, Adrian didn't particularly seem to notice my emphatic response, or he just put it down to a show of friendship. He briefly touched my hand and managed a wan smile.

"How come drinking your blood makes me feel this good?" he asked suddenly. Damn. At that moment I came very close to telling him the truth. Very, very close. Yet I held back, for this was one thing Deirdre and Caine would never forgive me for. And telling Adrian the entire truth would not help in any way, I realised. He had only told me about his problems because he didn't know what else to do, and I still had Taureth working on a solution, one that was hopefully drawing closer by the hour.

Still, I couldn't just clamp up on Adrian right now, and after what he had told me he deserved at least a little part of the truth. "It's something I discovered only recently," I said, "an ability to  generate some kind of healing energy. It's a by-product of the power struggle that took place during my defense of Shadow Cardane, or more specifically of the way in which I managed to subdue the Shadow storm. I haven't had time to test it fully or to study the possibilities, so its effects occasionally catch me by surprise."

Adrian nodded and smirked. "I wouldn't let just anyone drink from your blood if I were you," he said.

"I wouldn't either," I replied, and with that I took the glass containing his blood and threw it into the blazing hearth. For a moment there seemed to be a suggestion of a foul and penetrating smell of rot, but soon the flames picked up higher again and the air was cleared.

"I think the best thing would be for me to come to Sherwyn as soon as possible," I said. "Then I can have a look at your Pattern, and at Corwintoo."

"Perhaps you could even give Cowin a little of your blood," Adrian suggested. "He's in very bad shape, that is why he hasn't come to this meeting himself. I'll have to find some way of discussing this with him, though, for he really doesn't want anyone else to know about this. Especially not your mother."

"She won't hear anything from me."

Adrian shook his head a bit wistfully. "Their relationship is a complicated one. I've come to the strange conclusion that they're both quite sincere in their feelings for one another. I couldn't quite believe it, of course, and at first I quite doubted your mother's sincerity. I've learnt to think otherwise, though." I nodded, giving him a look that plainly suggested that I knew more about this than he did, but that I wasn't going to tell him just now. He shrugged. Later perhaps.

Having reached this basic agreement, there was little else for us to talk about. I sensed Adrian wanted to be alone for a while to deal with the aftereffects of supping my blood; he certainly wasn't going back into the dining hall with all our relatives while he was in such an emotional state. So, I quietly left him sitting beside the fire and rejoined the others on my own.

In the wake of this conversation with Adrian, however, I found I had very little to say to any of the others, save for Random perhaps, and he appeared to be too busy to see me just now. I decided to retire for the night and try my luck with Random in the morning. My dreams, I'm happy to say, were of the sort that cannot be recalled in the morning.

After breakfast I had to wait my turn with Random, for Boadice had beaten me to him. She even dragged him off to the library to give her a new deck of Trumps, although he warned her about the penalties should she lose hers a second time, especially considering the fact that she could draw her own. Fortunately, he soon returned and was quite willing to grant me a little of his time.

There were two things I wanted to discuss with him. First of all, I volunteered for the messenger duty involving the invitation to Flora to come and explain herself before the Court. I had figured this would be just about the best opportunity for me to talk to her under a flag of truce, but Random had his doubts, even though he didn't put all of them in so many words. I caught him giving me a quite calculating look at one moment, as if he was wondering what his reaction would be should I decide to grab the opportunity and take Flora out on my own. I shook my head a little, but if that was what he wanted to think of me, I wasn't going to try and change his mind. In the end, Random agreed to my proposal, but he said he would need a few days to compose the letter, since he wanted to brush up on Family law in order to avoid any nasty loopholes. After all, Flora's knowledge of protocol was legendary.

The second issue was the intended marriage between Taureth and Diana. Of course, Random was a bit surprised, but my blessing on the union was enough to convince him. He expressed some concerns, however, about the way Diana's loyalties might change once she would be married. He reminded me that most Chaosian marriages involved the less important partner officially adopting the allegiances of the more powerful one. If Diana would be expected to swear allegiance to Chaos, this might clash with her loyalty to Amber. I realised that these issues had not yet been discussed, and there was a good chance that Diana had simply failed to consider them entirely, whereas Taureth had probably not thought they needed discussing. I promised Random to look into it for his as well as my own peace of mind. He in turn promised to get back to me about the message to Flora at dinner tonight, which was reasonably fine by me. As long as I would be able to deal with that matter and with the situation in Quendor fairly quickly, everything would be sure to work out.

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