"slide20" - читать интересную книгу автора (Betancourt John Gregory - Roger Zelazny's Dawn of Amber 01 - The Dawn of Amber...)

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EIGHTEEN

I swallowed. “It can’t be as bad as all that.”
“Why not?” I had no answer.
“I’ll tell Freda,” I said, starting for the door. “Perhaps she’ll know what to do.” He gave a curt nod.
I left him there, seated at one of his work tables, just staring into space. I had never seen him like this before, and it tore me up inside. How could he have let it come to this? How could he have become so helpless so suddenly? It didn’t take me long to find Freda; she still stood at one of the windows in the audience hall, staring up at the sky. Aber and most of the others were still there as well.
The black cloud, I saw, had doubled in size, and it swirled faster than before. Blue flashes and the constant flicker of lightning gave it a sinister appearance.
I touched Freda’s arm and motioned for her to follow me. She gave one last look at the sky, then we went off to the side, where we could talk without being heard.
“What happened?” she asked. “Is he gone?”
“No.” Quickly I told her what we had discovered. “I thought you might be able to do something.”
She shook her head. “I have not been able to use my Trumps since this morning. I started to tell you when we were in your room. I wanted you to shuffle them . . . I thought I had done something to cause the problem.”
“It had begun even then?” I said. “Before the cloud?”
“Apparently. Why?”
“Then maybe the cloud isn’t the cause. Maybe it’s something else.”
“Like what?”
I shrugged. “You and Dad are the experts. Is there a device that could cause it? If so, could it be hidden here, inside the castle?”
“Not that I know of,” she said.
I sighed. “So much for that idea. I thought Ivinius or our unknown traitor might have smuggled something into Juniper.”
“Still . . . it is possible, I suppose. I will organize a search, just to make sure.”
“Why don’t you ask Blaise to do it?”
She looked at me in surprise. “Why?”
“She’s already in charge of the servants. She can put them to work.”
“You ask her, then. I cannot, after what she accused me of.”
I looked into her eyes. “Trust none of them, but love them all?”
She sighed and looked away. “Advice is easier when given than taken,” she said. “Very well, I will talk to her.”
Turning, she headed back to the window. I saw her pull Blaise aside, and they began to talk in low voices. Since no blows were exchanged, I assumed the best. In a life-or-death situation, even bitter enemies would work together to save themselves.
I went outside, into the main courtyard. The cloud had grown large enough to blot out the sun and most of its light, and a hazy sort of twilight settled over everything. Guards hurried across the courtyard, lighting torches. I knew without doubt that something huge and terrible was about to break over us. I think we all did.
Well, let it come. I gave a silent toast to inevitability. The sooner it came, the sooner we could act against it.
Without warning, a tremendous flash lit the courtyard, followed by a deafening crack of thunder. Tiny bits of rock rained down on me, followed by a choking cloud of dust. Then a block of stone as big as my head hit the paving stones ten feet from where I stood, shattering. I reeled back, coughing and choking, eyes stinging and tearing.
Screams sounded from inside the castle. It took me a second to realize what had happened—lightning had struck the top floor.
I ran for the steps to the battlements, knowing I’d be safer there than out in the open. The real danger lay in falling stones, not being struck by lightning. Somehow, I had a feeling this one had been the first of many to come.
Gaining the top of the battlements, I looked out across the army camp. Men by the thousands worked frantically, packing gear, pulling up wooden stakes and folding tents, herding animals. I spotted Locke on horseback, directing their movements. He seemed to be directing everyone within two hundred yards of the castle away to the empty fields by the forest where the hell-creatures had been spying on us.
Another blast of lightning came, then a third. Each struck the castle’s highest tower, cracking stone blocks and roof tiles. Debris rained down. Luckily no one was injured or killed.
“Close the gates!” I called down to the guards on duty. “Don’t let anyone in except Locke or Davin! It’s too dangerous!”
“Yes, Lord!” one of them called up, and two of them began to swing the heavy gates shut.
I went back down to the courtyard, waited for the next bolts of lightning to strike and the debris to fall, then sprinted across the courtyard and into the audience hall.
It was deserted. Two of the windows had broken, and I saw blood on the floor—someone had been cut by flying glass, I thought.
I spotted servants moving in the hallway, and I hurried to see what they were doing. Anari, it turned out, had taken Dworkin’s orders to heart and had begun moving all the castle’s beds and bedding to the ground floor. Servants would sleep in the grand ballroom. My sisters would share the dining hall. My brothers and I would have one of the lesser halls—one with no windows. Hopefully the lightning would stop or the castle would withstand its blasts through the morning.
I caught sight of Aber, who was supervising two servants as they carried an immense wooden chest down the stairs, and I strode over to join him.
“Who got hurt in the audience hall?” I asked.
“Conner,” he said. “A section of the glass fell in on him. His face and hands are cut up, but he’ll live.”
“That’s good news,” I said. “What’s in the trunk?”
“My set of Trumps. And a few other precious items I don’t want to lose. I thought I’d store them down here until we leave. We are leaving, aren’t we?”
I smiled bleakly. “What happened to your faith in Dad, Locke, and me? I thought you planned to sit tight until we killed everyone.”
His voice dropped to a whisper. “No offense, brother, but have you noticed what we’re up against? We won’t be alive to fight if we don’t get out of here, and soon. They’re bringing the castle down on our heads!”
A particularly loud crack! sounded outside as if to underscore his words. The castle shook, and I heard the low rumble of falling stones.
He might have a point, I thought. But the castle walls grew stronger the closer you got to the foundations. It wouldn’t be easy to destroy Juniper.
“In case you missed it,” I told him, “our Trumps aren’t working anymore. We can’t go anywhere. It’s time to stand and fight.”
“What?” He paled. “You’re wrong! The Trumps always work!”
“Try one,” I said, “and you’ll see. Neither Freda, Dad, nor I could get them to work.”
The servants carrying the trunk had reached the bottom of the stairs, and he motioned for them to set it down. They did so, and he flipped open its lid. I peered over his shoulder and saw stacks of cards . . . there had to be hundreds of them.
He picked up the top one, which showed me . . .  it was the same card he’d been painting in his room earlier.
“Do you mind?” he asked me.
“Go ahead.”
He stared at it intently, frowning, but I felt no sense of contact. From his frustrated expression, I knew it wasn’t working for him, either.
With a low moan, he dropped his arm and looked at me. His face had gone ashen; his hand trembled.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I felt a little guilty for having him try the Trump when I’d known it wouldn’t work. Making Trumps seemed to be his one great talent, and it had been rendered useless right now.
“I can’t believe it,” he said.
“We’ll think of something else,” I said with more confidence than I felt. “Dad has whole rooms full of magical stuff. He must have something that can help us.”
Aber tossed the card back into the trunk, then slammed down the lid. Motioning for the two men to pick it up again, he told them to put it with the rest of his belongings. They started off down the hall.
“Well,” he told me philosophically, “I’ll just have to fall back on my other plan, I suppose.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Hide until the danger’s past!”
I laughed, and he gave me a weak smile. At least he still had his sense of humor.
The lightning stopped half an hour later, with the coming of night, but I suspected it was a temporary reprieve. Perhaps whoever had sent the cloud needed daylight to direct his attack. I had little doubt but that the blasts would resume at dawn.
Our father remained locked in his workshop, leaving the rest of us to care for the castle. It was late by the time we had everyone bedded down for the night, from family to servants. The guards bravely walking the battlements were the only ones outside.
Freda, Blaise, and I retired to the audience hall, waiting for Locke and Davin to return. We didn’t have much to say to each other, but the company was better than being alone.
The silence outside seemed ominous.
Finally, toward midnight, I heard horses in the courtyard and rose to check.
“It’s Locke and Davin,” I told my sisters.
“About time,” Blaise murmured.
Locke left the horses with Davin and hurried inside. He looked grim when he saw us.
“What news?” I asked.
“The men are now a safe distance from the castle,” he said. “I don’t think the lightning will reach them. What have I missed? Where’s Dad?”
“Locked in his rooms,” I said unhappily. “He’s not answering to knocks.”
Freda added, “We moved everyone to ground level, and they are settled for the night.”
“I saw the lightning strikes,” he said. “Perhaps we should move everyone out to the fields as soon as possible.”
“I think that would be a mistake,” I said. “They’re trying to drive us into the open. Despite the lightning, we’re better off in here. Although the top towers will fall, the closer the walls get to the ground, the stronger they become. We’ll be all right for a while yet.”
“Good enough.”
“If you’re going back out tomorrow morning,” I said, “you might want to do it before daybreak. I think darkness stopped the lightning.”
“I will.” He glanced around. “Where are we camped out tonight?”
I rose. “I’ll show you.”
My sleep was deep and restful, for once. Even though I shared the chamber with a dozen others, most of whom snored, exhaustion took me. No bad dreams plagued me, no visions of evil serpents or dying men on stone altars, no skies of ever-shifting patterns nor towers made of human bones.
I woke a little before dawn, listening to the first stirrings of life, thinking back to events of the previous night. It seemed unreal, somehow, almost like a bad dream. Clouds didn’t swirl in the sky, loosing thunderbolts upon helpless people. It seemed impossible, and yet I knew it had happened.
A silent figure crept into the room. I tensed, hand reaching for my sword. It was one of the castle guards. Another assassin?
Silently, like a ghost, he padded to Locke’s side. I prepared to shout a warning and launch myself at him, but he only stretched out his hand and shook his general’s shoulder.
Locke came awake with a start.
“You asked me to fetch you before dawn, General,” the man said. “It’s time.”
“Very well,” he said softly. “Wake Davin.” Rising, he began to dress.
I too sat up, stretching. My muscles ached a bit from my workout the previous afternoon, but I felt much refreshed . . . ready to fight, if need be, to protect Juniper. The hell-creatures would not take the castle easily, I vowed. I began to dress, too.
Locke picked up his boots, noticed me, and gave a quick jerk of his head toward the door. Rising, I grabbed my own boots and followed him out. We headed toward our father’s workshop.
“What are your plans for today?” I asked when he paused to pull on his boots. I took a moment to do the same.
“Prepare the men for battle,” he said grimly.
“I don’t think it will come today.”
“Why not?”
“Why rush? Let the lightning work on our morale.”
He nodded. “You’re right. That’s what I would do, too.”
We headed for our father’s rooms again, but the guards there lowered their pikes, blocking our way.
“Apologies, my Lords,” said the guard on duty with an audible gulp. “Prince Dworkin said not to let anyone disturb him. Not even you, General.”
Locked sighed. “I know you are only doing your duty,” he said. “But I must do mine as well.”
He hit the man twice, fast and hard, with the flat of his hand; the poor fellow slumped to the floor. It happened before the other guard could so much as move.
Locke glared across at him. “Remove your friend,” he said, “or I will remove you both.”
“It means my life, Lord,” the man pleaded, eyes wide and desperate. He barred the way with his pike and raised his chin, then pressed his eyes shut. “If you please.”
Locke nodded. Then he hit him twice, too, and when he slid to the floor, Locke and I stepped over the bodies. We had gone well beyond the point of fooling around.
Dworkin had left the door unbarred, so we didn’t have to kick it in. Locke glanced over at me, then pushed it open and entered.
Our father sat with his head down on the table nearest us, snoring. Three large bottles sat before him. Two had been completely emptied, plus half of the third,
I picked up the half bottle, sniffed once, set it down.
“Brandy,” I said.
“Dad! Wake up!” Locke shook his shoulder.
Dworkin lolled to the side and would have fallen to the floor if I hadn’t reached out to steady him. We didn’t get to much as a whimper. He was dead to the world.
“Typical,” Locke said.
“He’s done this before?”
“Once that I know of, when he got kicked out of the Courts of Chaos.”
“Kicked out? Why?”
“Well, that’s not exactly how he tells it. He usually says he left because he grew tired of life in the Courts. But I know the truth. He forgets that I was there, too.”
I leaned forward. “What really happened? Every time someone tells me, I get a different story.”
“The truth?” He gave a sad smile. “He seduced King Uthor’s youngest and favorite daughter. Got her with child, in fact. Once that happened, it was hard to hide their involvement.”
“Couldn’t he have married her?”
“Unfortunately, she was already betrothed. Had been, in fact, since birth. Dworkin knew that, too, and he didn’t care.”
“Then . . . all this could be King Uthor’s doing?”
“Could be?” He chuckled. “Oh, Uthor may not be leading the attack, but I see his hand in it. I had hoped we could outrun or outlast him. He is old. And all this happened forty years ago, as time goes in the Courts.”
Forty years . . . long before my birth. I stared down at our father’s unconscious form. If Locke told the truth—and I believed him; why should he lie?—then Dad had brought ruin upon himself. And upon the rest of us.
I pushed him back onto the table. He could sleep off his drunk there. Foolish, foolish man.
“Leave him,” I said. “If you don’t mind, I’ll accompany you today. I don’t want to spend the day in the castle, listening to falling rock. And if I get a chance to swing my blade a few more times in the right direction—”
“All right.” He chuckled humorlessly. “I’m sure we can find something for you to do.”
The grooms had emptied the stables during the night. Our horses were penned with the cavalry’s mounts outside in the main camp. Davin joined us in the courtyard, now littered with fallen stone, and together the three of us walked out toward the military camp.
The sky grew lighter. I saw that the clouds still swirled endlessly overhead.
Halfway to the army camp, the lightning started again behind us. I glanced over my shoulder at the castle, as bolt after bolt of blue lanced from the sky, striking the tallest towers. More stones fell, raising clouds of dust. I didn’t envy those still inside. I knew it wouldn’t be a pleasant day for them.
Ahead, horns began to sound.
“That’s an attack!” Locke cried, recognizing the call to arms and sprinting for the pens of horses.
Davin and I followed on his heels.

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EIGHTEEN

I swallowed. “It can’t be as bad as all that.”
“Why not?” I had no answer.
“I’ll tell Freda,” I said, starting for the door. “Perhaps she’ll know what to do.” He gave a curt nod.
I left him there, seated at one of his work tables, just staring into space. I had never seen him like this before, and it tore me up inside. How could he have let it come to this? How could he have become so helpless so suddenly? It didn’t take me long to find Freda; she still stood at one of the windows in the audience hall, staring up at the sky. Aber and most of the others were still there as well.
The black cloud, I saw, had doubled in size, and it swirled faster than before. Blue flashes and the constant flicker of lightning gave it a sinister appearance.
I touched Freda’s arm and motioned for her to follow me. She gave one last look at the sky, then we went off to the side, where we could talk without being heard.
“What happened?” she asked. “Is he gone?”
“No.” Quickly I told her what we had discovered. “I thought you might be able to do something.”
She shook her head. “I have not been able to use my Trumps since this morning. I started to tell you when we were in your room. I wanted you to shuffle them . . . I thought I had done something to cause the problem.”
“It had begun even then?” I said. “Before the cloud?”
“Apparently. Why?”
“Then maybe the cloud isn’t the cause. Maybe it’s something else.”
“Like what?”
I shrugged. “You and Dad are the experts. Is there a device that could cause it? If so, could it be hidden here, inside the castle?”
“Not that I know of,” she said.
I sighed. “So much for that idea. I thought Ivinius or our unknown traitor might have smuggled something into Juniper.”
“Still . . . it is possible, I suppose. I will organize a search, just to make sure.”
“Why don’t you ask Blaise to do it?”
She looked at me in surprise. “Why?”
“She’s already in charge of the servants. She can put them to work.”
“You ask her, then. I cannot, after what she accused me of.”
I looked into her eyes. “Trust none of them, but love them all?”
She sighed and looked away. “Advice is easier when given than taken,” she said. “Very well, I will talk to her.”
Turning, she headed back to the window. I saw her pull Blaise aside, and they began to talk in low voices. Since no blows were exchanged, I assumed the best. In a life-or-death situation, even bitter enemies would work together to save themselves.
I went outside, into the main courtyard. The cloud had grown large enough to blot out the sun and most of its light, and a hazy sort of twilight settled over everything. Guards hurried across the courtyard, lighting torches. I knew without doubt that something huge and terrible was about to break over us. I think we all did.
Well, let it come. I gave a silent toast to inevitability. The sooner it came, the sooner we could act against it.
Without warning, a tremendous flash lit the courtyard, followed by a deafening crack of thunder. Tiny bits of rock rained down on me, followed by a choking cloud of dust. Then a block of stone as big as my head hit the paving stones ten feet from where I stood, shattering. I reeled back, coughing and choking, eyes stinging and tearing.
Screams sounded from inside the castle. It took me a second to realize what had happened—lightning had struck the top floor.
I ran for the steps to the battlements, knowing I’d be safer there than out in the open. The real danger lay in falling stones, not being struck by lightning. Somehow, I had a feeling this one had been the first of many to come.
Gaining the top of the battlements, I looked out across the army camp. Men by the thousands worked frantically, packing gear, pulling up wooden stakes and folding tents, herding animals. I spotted Locke on horseback, directing their movements. He seemed to be directing everyone within two hundred yards of the castle away to the empty fields by the forest where the hell-creatures had been spying on us.
Another blast of lightning came, then a third. Each struck the castle’s highest tower, cracking stone blocks and roof tiles. Debris rained down. Luckily no one was injured or killed.
“Close the gates!” I called down to the guards on duty. “Don’t let anyone in except Locke or Davin! It’s too dangerous!”
“Yes, Lord!” one of them called up, and two of them began to swing the heavy gates shut.
I went back down to the courtyard, waited for the next bolts of lightning to strike and the debris to fall, then sprinted across the courtyard and into the audience hall.
It was deserted. Two of the windows had broken, and I saw blood on the floor—someone had been cut by flying glass, I thought.
I spotted servants moving in the hallway, and I hurried to see what they were doing. Anari, it turned out, had taken Dworkin’s orders to heart and had begun moving all the castle’s beds and bedding to the ground floor. Servants would sleep in the grand ballroom. My sisters would share the dining hall. My brothers and I would have one of the lesser halls—one with no windows. Hopefully the lightning would stop or the castle would withstand its blasts through the morning.
I caught sight of Aber, who was supervising two servants as they carried an immense wooden chest down the stairs, and I strode over to join him.
“Who got hurt in the audience hall?” I asked.
“Conner,” he said. “A section of the glass fell in on him. His face and hands are cut up, but he’ll live.”
“That’s good news,” I said. “What’s in the trunk?”
“My set of Trumps. And a few other precious items I don’t want to lose. I thought I’d store them down here until we leave. We are leaving, aren’t we?”
I smiled bleakly. “What happened to your faith in Dad, Locke, and me? I thought you planned to sit tight until we killed everyone.”
His voice dropped to a whisper. “No offense, brother, but have you noticed what we’re up against? We won’t be alive to fight if we don’t get out of here, and soon. They’re bringing the castle down on our heads!”
A particularly loud crack! sounded outside as if to underscore his words. The castle shook, and I heard the low rumble of falling stones.
He might have a point, I thought. But the castle walls grew stronger the closer you got to the foundations. It wouldn’t be easy to destroy Juniper.
“In case you missed it,” I told him, “our Trumps aren’t working anymore. We can’t go anywhere. It’s time to stand and fight.”
“What?” He paled. “You’re wrong! The Trumps always work!”
“Try one,” I said, “and you’ll see. Neither Freda, Dad, nor I could get them to work.”
The servants carrying the trunk had reached the bottom of the stairs, and he motioned for them to set it down. They did so, and he flipped open its lid. I peered over his shoulder and saw stacks of cards . . . there had to be hundreds of them.
He picked up the top one, which showed me . . .  it was the same card he’d been painting in his room earlier.
“Do you mind?” he asked me.
“Go ahead.”
He stared at it intently, frowning, but I felt no sense of contact. From his frustrated expression, I knew it wasn’t working for him, either.
With a low moan, he dropped his arm and looked at me. His face had gone ashen; his hand trembled.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I felt a little guilty for having him try the Trump when I’d known it wouldn’t work. Making Trumps seemed to be his one great talent, and it had been rendered useless right now.
“I can’t believe it,” he said.
“We’ll think of something else,” I said with more confidence than I felt. “Dad has whole rooms full of magical stuff. He must have something that can help us.”
Aber tossed the card back into the trunk, then slammed down the lid. Motioning for the two men to pick it up again, he told them to put it with the rest of his belongings. They started off down the hall.
“Well,” he told me philosophically, “I’ll just have to fall back on my other plan, I suppose.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Hide until the danger’s past!”
I laughed, and he gave me a weak smile. At least he still had his sense of humor.
The lightning stopped half an hour later, with the coming of night, but I suspected it was a temporary reprieve. Perhaps whoever had sent the cloud needed daylight to direct his attack. I had little doubt but that the blasts would resume at dawn.
Our father remained locked in his workshop, leaving the rest of us to care for the castle. It was late by the time we had everyone bedded down for the night, from family to servants. The guards bravely walking the battlements were the only ones outside.
Freda, Blaise, and I retired to the audience hall, waiting for Locke and Davin to return. We didn’t have much to say to each other, but the company was better than being alone.
The silence outside seemed ominous.
Finally, toward midnight, I heard horses in the courtyard and rose to check.
“It’s Locke and Davin,” I told my sisters.
“About time,” Blaise murmured.
Locke left the horses with Davin and hurried inside. He looked grim when he saw us.
“What news?” I asked.
“The men are now a safe distance from the castle,” he said. “I don’t think the lightning will reach them. What have I missed? Where’s Dad?”
“Locked in his rooms,” I said unhappily. “He’s not answering to knocks.”
Freda added, “We moved everyone to ground level, and they are settled for the night.”
“I saw the lightning strikes,” he said. “Perhaps we should move everyone out to the fields as soon as possible.”
“I think that would be a mistake,” I said. “They’re trying to drive us into the open. Despite the lightning, we’re better off in here. Although the top towers will fall, the closer the walls get to the ground, the stronger they become. We’ll be all right for a while yet.”
“Good enough.”
“If you’re going back out tomorrow morning,” I said, “you might want to do it before daybreak. I think darkness stopped the lightning.”
“I will.” He glanced around. “Where are we camped out tonight?”
I rose. “I’ll show you.”
My sleep was deep and restful, for once. Even though I shared the chamber with a dozen others, most of whom snored, exhaustion took me. No bad dreams plagued me, no visions of evil serpents or dying men on stone altars, no skies of ever-shifting patterns nor towers made of human bones.
I woke a little before dawn, listening to the first stirrings of life, thinking back to events of the previous night. It seemed unreal, somehow, almost like a bad dream. Clouds didn’t swirl in the sky, loosing thunderbolts upon helpless people. It seemed impossible, and yet I knew it had happened.
A silent figure crept into the room. I tensed, hand reaching for my sword. It was one of the castle guards. Another assassin?
Silently, like a ghost, he padded to Locke’s side. I prepared to shout a warning and launch myself at him, but he only stretched out his hand and shook his general’s shoulder.
Locke came awake with a start.
“You asked me to fetch you before dawn, General,” the man said. “It’s time.”
“Very well,” he said softly. “Wake Davin.” Rising, he began to dress.
I too sat up, stretching. My muscles ached a bit from my workout the previous afternoon, but I felt much refreshed . . . ready to fight, if need be, to protect Juniper. The hell-creatures would not take the castle easily, I vowed. I began to dress, too.
Locke picked up his boots, noticed me, and gave a quick jerk of his head toward the door. Rising, I grabbed my own boots and followed him out. We headed toward our father’s workshop.
“What are your plans for today?” I asked when he paused to pull on his boots. I took a moment to do the same.
“Prepare the men for battle,” he said grimly.
“I don’t think it will come today.”
“Why not?”
“Why rush? Let the lightning work on our morale.”
He nodded. “You’re right. That’s what I would do, too.”
We headed for our father’s rooms again, but the guards there lowered their pikes, blocking our way.
“Apologies, my Lords,” said the guard on duty with an audible gulp. “Prince Dworkin said not to let anyone disturb him. Not even you, General.”
Locked sighed. “I know you are only doing your duty,” he said. “But I must do mine as well.”
He hit the man twice, fast and hard, with the flat of his hand; the poor fellow slumped to the floor. It happened before the other guard could so much as move.
Locke glared across at him. “Remove your friend,” he said, “or I will remove you both.”
“It means my life, Lord,” the man pleaded, eyes wide and desperate. He barred the way with his pike and raised his chin, then pressed his eyes shut. “If you please.”
Locke nodded. Then he hit him twice, too, and when he slid to the floor, Locke and I stepped over the bodies. We had gone well beyond the point of fooling around.
Dworkin had left the door unbarred, so we didn’t have to kick it in. Locke glanced over at me, then pushed it open and entered.
Our father sat with his head down on the table nearest us, snoring. Three large bottles sat before him. Two had been completely emptied, plus half of the third,
I picked up the half bottle, sniffed once, set it down.
“Brandy,” I said.
“Dad! Wake up!” Locke shook his shoulder.
Dworkin lolled to the side and would have fallen to the floor if I hadn’t reached out to steady him. We didn’t get to much as a whimper. He was dead to the world.
“Typical,” Locke said.
“He’s done this before?”
“Once that I know of, when he got kicked out of the Courts of Chaos.”
“Kicked out? Why?”
“Well, that’s not exactly how he tells it. He usually says he left because he grew tired of life in the Courts. But I know the truth. He forgets that I was there, too.”
I leaned forward. “What really happened? Every time someone tells me, I get a different story.”
“The truth?” He gave a sad smile. “He seduced King Uthor’s youngest and favorite daughter. Got her with child, in fact. Once that happened, it was hard to hide their involvement.”
“Couldn’t he have married her?”
“Unfortunately, she was already betrothed. Had been, in fact, since birth. Dworkin knew that, too, and he didn’t care.”
“Then . . . all this could be King Uthor’s doing?”
“Could be?” He chuckled. “Oh, Uthor may not be leading the attack, but I see his hand in it. I had hoped we could outrun or outlast him. He is old. And all this happened forty years ago, as time goes in the Courts.”
Forty years . . . long before my birth. I stared down at our father’s unconscious form. If Locke told the truth—and I believed him; why should he lie?—then Dad had brought ruin upon himself. And upon the rest of us.
I pushed him back onto the table. He could sleep off his drunk there. Foolish, foolish man.
“Leave him,” I said. “If you don’t mind, I’ll accompany you today. I don’t want to spend the day in the castle, listening to falling rock. And if I get a chance to swing my blade a few more times in the right direction—”
“All right.” He chuckled humorlessly. “I’m sure we can find something for you to do.”
The grooms had emptied the stables during the night. Our horses were penned with the cavalry’s mounts outside in the main camp. Davin joined us in the courtyard, now littered with fallen stone, and together the three of us walked out toward the military camp.
The sky grew lighter. I saw that the clouds still swirled endlessly overhead.
Halfway to the army camp, the lightning started again behind us. I glanced over my shoulder at the castle, as bolt after bolt of blue lanced from the sky, striking the tallest towers. More stones fell, raising clouds of dust. I didn’t envy those still inside. I knew it wouldn’t be a pleasant day for them.
Ahead, horns began to sound.
“That’s an attack!” Locke cried, recognizing the call to arms and sprinting for the pens of horses.
Davin and I followed on his heels.

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