Chapter 2 - The Discovery of the False Elders

Ten minutes later, the four Amberites find themselves garbed in warmer gear (that Caine took from a wash room) crunching through the snow on horseback, down the northern trail, away from the castle.

It is not until the bulk of the gray castle has vanished around the slope of Kolvir that both Caine and Julian begin to look more relaxed.

Now away from the castle, Martin removes a golden whistle from his cloak. He places it to his lips and blows upon it. No sound is made, at least not one that can be heard by the travelers. He puts it back in his breast pocket, and smiles at the others. "I thought, perhaps, we may require an escort."

Cat smiles at Martin, admiring his wisdom.

"How fares Vincent?," Julian inquires.

"Well, I suppose," Martin says, "I only met him briefly last night. He appeared somewhat civil and well behaved when we spoke."

Cat remains quiet, though attentive to the conversation and her surroundings as she wrestles with her inner thoughts.

An hour sees the four well into the Arden...icicles hang like spanish moss from great oaks and pines. Snow lays heavy, a pure blanket broken only by the places it has sloughed off to the ground or crossed by the tracks of some late wintering beast.

Crips air chills Martin's nostrils, but not far off, he can feel the presence of the Pack as they parallel their course.

Deeper into arden, and Catriola can hear Julian and Caine mutter to themselves up ahead as they go, doubtless deep in counsel for their plans.

With an odd look in his eye, as if he is expecting something, Caine turns over his shoulder and announces..."Not long now...we've a party up ahead who'll meet and provision us...then we shall...talk."

Martin looks out at the forest, smiling softly as he senses his friends' apporach. He rubs his gloved hands together to warm them, then pats his stead's neck.

"Sorry to have you out in this, old girl. I'll make sure you're well-tended after all this."

He turns towards Cat and smiles, his eyes slightly sad. "Are you alright, love?"

Martin nods to Caine, "We are in your debt. And will it just be talking, or shall we be enlightened to the events of the past months? I'd rather not be riding through this miserble cold to only be coddled with silvery words. Forgive my rudeness, but after years of Corwin and Bleys feeding me with poetic half-truths, I've grown tired of being talked around."

Julian, as if to remark, suddenly sprouts an arrow through his throat, it's barb tearing out his larynx as he coughs a spray of blood, staining the new snow.

A moment later, he falls from his horse gracelessly into the snow, at which point the steed rears and charges off.

A familiar voice is heard from the left and above, from an outcrop of icy rock.

"Well, lad, if you've a mind to, you may tell Corwin such himself...he's not too far off."

Caine, next to Catriola, bares his teeth as all eyes arrest on the newcomer.

It is Julian. Another Julian. He is holding a bow, another arrow nocked, and is garbed in battered brass-colored plate armor hidden mostly by the long folds of a brown cloak. With his helmet doffed, his features are seen to be hale, and his hair is long and dark, and his eyes burn with fierce intensity.

Cat blinks to clear her vision at the sight of a second Julian in her presence. She falls on her butt as her head swims.

"By the... Son of a... Mother... Damnit!" she says, flabbergasted beyond explanation. "I knew something wasn't right! I should have guessed that something like this was bound to happen!"

Martin has the most peculiar reaction to these events, one not to be expected of the young Prince. As the arrow erupts from Julian's throat, he instinctively jumps with a hint of shock. His hand goes to his blade, but tarries when the voice addresses him. But, when he looks up, he does not appear entirely surprised.

"Well met, uncle. I was curious as to when you would be showing up," he says calmly.

He steadies his horse with a soft pat upon the neck. By all accounts, he appears like someone already aware of a magician's trick; perfectly at peace with the shocking development. His eyes drift to Cat, offering her a reassuring smile. Then he looks back up at his uncle, nodding in respect.

Suddenly, Martin appears to waver on his horse, as if almost falling off. His brow beads with sweat as if he is in under enormous strain. Licking his lips, he looks down at the blood staining the snow around the fallen Julian. A low curse escapes his throat, as he pulls his gaze away from the corpse.

Focusing on the 'true' Julian, he snarls, lips curled back like a rat caught in a corner. His body trembles as if it wishes to explode in a thousand directions. Still, he remains rooted to the spot, staring up at Julian defiantly.

From nearby, Caine snarles and makes a lunch for Catriola, his dagger flashing coldly as he grabs her wrist in an attempt to haul her to him as a shield...

Reacting by instinct, Cat uses the bulk of her body weight to roll out behind Caine attempting to break the hold of her arm.

Martin is too distracted to assist Cat at the moment, unfortunately. He can barely help himself. Fighting desperately against some unseen foe, he slips/falls from his horse to the ground. Using the animal as a shield, he desperately reaches into his cloak. Rather than a weapon, he pulls out what appears to be a pack of Trump cards.

Focusing on the one of them, he strains against whatever force is assailing him.

"You might want to pick a body he's afraid to shoot through," Cat yells.

The snarl Caine lets out is almost inhuman. "He can shoot - so long as you take the arrow!"

"Idiot! You think my dead carcass is going to save your life?" she chokes. "He owns more than one arrow, you know."

His grip is strong, and iron-hard fingers catch at Cat's arm, twisting it back as he puts his blade to her throat...

"Back off!" he screams at the Julian perched atop the rock.

Nearby, Martin fumbled through his trumps, his pack belongings spilling into the snow as he riffled through the cards, seeking the one he needed.

A moment later, he hurled his will against the image, feeling it's coldness...

Above, Julian gritted his teeth, the arrow nocked against his bow wavering as it drooped from it's mark - Caine's head.

There was a robust cry from just behind Martin.

"Fool!"

The card was snatched from his hand by a large gauntleted hand, and he was spun about to greet another newcomer.

A rugged jaw set firm, intense eyes of blue, black hair hanging long down his shoulders, a coat of silver scales under a shaggy cloak of black bear furs.

In one hand, a heavy silver blade with a single edge, it's surface etched with swirling patterns.

It was all familiar.

Corwin.

Cat drops her hand away from Caine's blade to find Caine's groin to grab a fistful, squeezing and twisting with all her might

A thin stiletto drops from the sleeve of Martin's cloak as he turns to face his new assailant. Then he realizes who stands before him: Corwin, Greyswandir and all. He lowers his weapon hand reservedly, staring into his uncle's eyes.

"Can't you people say 'hello' like a REAL family?!"

His attention turns toward Caine, the knife in his hand shifting positions.

A moment later, Caine goes down, his blood staining the snow with crimson steam as he slumps down. The horse nearby, maddened by the blood, whinnies and trots off.

As Catriola gets up, releasing the grip on Caine's trousers, she notices both a barbed arrow through his knife arm and a stilletto protruding from his neck.

Corwin smiles a grim line. "Sorry, Freud never got past my father."

Martin's nose wrinkles, then he sadly shakes his head. He pulls his uncle to him in a friendly hug. "It is good to see you alive at least, uncle. After the past few weeks, I have grown tired of mourning for lost family members." He steps back patting Corwin on the shoulder. "We have much to talk about, if you'll let us."

Cat shakes herself off. Looking at Martin and Corwin she says, "Thank you."

He nods to Cat, smiling. "Any time, love. Let's just not make a habit of it?"

" Not to worry. I don't play the victim well enough, I'm afraid," she grins, impishly.

Turning her attention to the prone Caine she grumbles, "Aw, man! Why didn't I go to medical school when I had the chance?" She checks for any hint of life in Caine.

While Cat examines Caine, Martin goes to his horse. He tries not to look at the blood on the snow as he pulls a water skin from his traveling pouch. Uncorking it, he drains the majority of its contents in greedy gulps. Only then do his hands stop shaking, and the frantic look fades from his troubled eyes. Setting the skin back into the pouch, he moves to help Cat with her grim task.

Looking to Corwin, she says, "Merlin is in the castle, Uncle. You were thought to be lost at sea. You may wish to collect your son before he turns into Christophe's sidekick, or start to imitate him which would be much the worse. Merlin seems an amiable sort, I'd get him as far away from this clan of conniving, backstabbing..." she stops herself before cursing, "Well, if you don't want him turning into one of us, I'd go collect him if I were you."

Cat drags the dead Julian over to the remaining horse and slings it over the animal's back. Caine and the other Julian are quite dead. Oddly enough, their features seem a bit blued, sunken and withered upon death, not as robust as they had been...just the way Random's corpse had looked at the funeral, though it had been supposed it was the poison he had suffered.

"Strange," she mutters. "Makes me wonder if...." she lets the thought trail and makes a mental note to ask for assistance in further examination of the bodies.

Corwin, helping Cat to load Caine onto the horse, says only, "Sound advice...I may even take it. But first some other business."

Cat nods in agreement.

"And perhaps," Martin adds, "You can tell us exactly why you happen to be back; especially in your present company." He indicates in Julian's direction. "No offense, but I thought you two hated one another."

Having stepped down from the rock to the trail, Julian sniffs the air before replying. "We do...I was quite tempted to put a shaft into my brother..."

Corwin snorts as he laces the dead Julian to his horse...

"...but," Julian confides, "when matters of family arise, I rearrange my priorities as I did for the War."

Julian whistles, and bounding out from a screen of brush and small branches, sending snow and ice flying out in a cloud, is the great white beast, Morgenstern.

Clouds of steam whisk out of the titanic animal's flaring nostrils, and eyes like gunmetal gaze distastefully at Martin as Julian mounts the thing.

Always admirable of the mammoth creature, Cat allows herself a small inhalation of respect and awe of the great Morganstern, something she has done since she was a small child. She looks strangely at Martin due to the animal's reaction to him. Giving him a small smile, she then turns her attention to Julian.

"You're not coming to Amber, are you, Father?" she asks, quizzically."Wouldn't it give you more freedom if family thought you dead?" She gives a thumb jerk toward the Julian corpse.

Julian shrugs. "Yes...but there will come a time when I must make an appearance. First, we must discern what Amber's enemies have been up to...and that requires some privacy."

Corwin merely settles himself into Cat's mount, and then seats her before him, where she can smell the earthy mustiness of his shaggy furs and the odor of old sweat and hard travel.

"We'll best be away, these two were going to meet someone allied to them, no doubt. Some leagues between us and them are desireable."

Without further ado, Corwin kicks the steed into motion, allowing Martin to follow, and Julian to take the rear.
Cat takes in the smell and remembers the scent from simpler days past. She looks back at her Uncle and smiled, "You've been away a long time, Corwin. It is nice to have you home alive and well."

There is a hearty laugh. "I find it well that I am alive too. And I am glad to hear Merlin survived our separation - you must tell me more, later. But hush now, give silence reign, as we have some distance to travel, and we must do so as quietly as we are able."

The four, leading the corpses behind them, find themselves in Arden's depths, held tightly in the grasp of winter. It is obvious that Julian, or perhaps Corwin, is shifting shadow, as frozen stream beds vanish, and the terraign changes, though winter is still omnipresent so 'close' to Amber.

Eventually, winter gives way to spring, and new leaves, yellow and crisp, burst from the boundless branches of the forest, though it seems no longer dense and grand enough to be one of Arden's proper shadows...another, then.

Perhaps several hours of travel later, through and in shadow, the two Elders and the two Youngers arrive to a hollow, wherein a small clearning a hut of rude stone, roofed with wood shingles stands. Martin follows the group without another word, riding in silence. His eyes scan the trees, but his mind appears to be elsewhere- distracted by unspoken thoughts. The song finally stirs Martin from his musing, his attention focusing upon the hut. The music obviously reminds him of home, that melancholy look he always gets passing over his features. After a moment, he pulls himself away from the music and turns around in his saddle. Purpose returns to his manner with a renewed vigor.

He slows the horse as he speaks to Julian quietly, "Uncle. Before any more surprises are revealed, I thought it prudent to ask you a question. Your double refused to answer, but perhaps you will. I know there have been other Princes of Amber before you. One in particular interests me. Osric. Who was he? In the past Corwin always dodged the issue, but you have always been more honest with me."

He smiles politely, hoping his uncle cannot resist the temptation to show up his hated brother.

From the squat chimney, a small stream of smoke issues, and the gentle tenor of a man's voice carries out the open low door, a sad song of loves and lives lost and the ocean;

"And if you look deep within your heart
You just might see the Princess Lark
for she sails inside every man
the crew is your conscience
and the captian is your soul
And the ship is the path
on which you chose to go..."

Julian laughs as he halts his horse just at the perimeter of the clearing. "Honest? If you try flattery dear nephew, you must know the proper bait...still...I will humor you."

"Thank you for your councel, uncle. Now I understand why my beloved Cat reveres you so much."

Cat flushes a bright crimson hearing such a statement fall from Martin's lips, 'He's going to hold that statement over my head the rest of my life. Nope, no living this one down,' she thinks to herself.

He dismounts as Corwin does the same, lending a hand to Catriola.

"Thank you," she says, taking the offered hand. She takes the reins of both her and Martin's mounts, leading them to be tethered. Looking at Morgenstern, she simply shakes her head. "No sense in getting stomped on so early in the day."

"Osric is -" Julian begins.

Martin dismounts as well, following his uncle's lead. He pats the horse upon the flank, keeping his attention truly focused on Julian.

Another voice breaks in. It is the same mellow tenor they heard sing, but it carries a trace of irritation and steel in it that was not present during the song.

"_WAS_ my brother..."

From the doorway of the hut, a man straightens up. Long of limb, with spare, narrow features and a high forehead, he carries the bearing of a man used to trouble. Long hair streamed down his back, and partly over his face, and he had many bandages over his bare, lean chest and his trouser-clad left thigh. The hand of his right arm ended in a stump, undisguised by cloth or leather.

Benedict takes a step forward. "Speak no more of that name, if you will."

Cat stands silently, looking at the elder whose name she knew but had no recollection of meeting.

Martin looks up, quite shocked to see yet another 'lost' uncle. "They're coming out of the woodwork," he mutters faintly. "Next thing you know, my father will be popping by for a brew."

He steps forward, placing himself between Julian and Benedict, almost protective of Cat's father. He reverently bows to Benedict as the elder taught him during their martial training sessions. "Forgive me, uncle Benedict, but I believe it is important. Thus far, hiding our family's past has only served to cause Amber grief. Exactly when will we do away with the unnecessary obfuscation of whom we are and were? Perhaps Oberon's statue and the castle around it will be turned to dust before anyone gives us a straight answer.

"Is it so difficult to answer such a simple question?"

She removes her gloves, the ring snagging her left glove momentartily."Damn, have to get used to that." she mutters.

By the time he finishes speaking, an unusual edge has entered his voice. Perhaps it is exhaustion speaking. Perhaps something else.

Before anyone responds, he lifts up his hands in mock resignation. "Either way, I need a drink," he adds, licking his parched lips.

She looks to the three elders, "Is there a water source nearby? I think we shall need some good hot water to clean this wound."

His mouth a simple line, Benedict grabs a pail from outside the hut's door. "I'll return with water from the stream."

Without a word, he strides off on long legs in an easy stride.

Julian smirks, and dismounts. Looking over the saddle of his horse, he calls over to Martin.

"I don't think heaven or earth will ever get more out of brother Benedict than he is willing to tell, nephew."

Without allowing another breath to pass among the men, Cat moves quickly to grab Martin's wrist and starts to pull him towards the house. "Something is dreadfully wrong with you and I'm not sure that any more fluids is such a good idea. I want to get another look at that cut. Have any of you any medical training? I've not had the benefit of training other than basic field first aid... Martin, don't even think about telling me 'NO'..."

"At least he didn't run me through for being stubborn myself," Martin says. He sighs deeply, and walks over to Julian. "Is there anything I can help you with, uncle." Before either can react, Cat grabs him.

Corwin nods his head. "Wounded? I can have a look...let me tie up the steeds, first, then I'll come over."

Martin stumbles along as he is pulled toward the hut, following Cat without complaint. He glances at his uncles as if seeking assistance, or rescue, from them. Meekly, he says, "There is nothing wrong with me, love. You worry too much."

Cat smiles, "Of course, I do. I can count the number of people that mean so much to me on one hand. I'm sure as hell not going to let one of them run about injured and not do something about it. Even if worrying is the only thing I CAN do."

Martin sighs faintly and nods. "Which makes my mistake in not telling you my feelings hurt all the more. You are about the only person I care for and trust unconditionally these days. I guess there will be no dissuading you. I'm sorry." If one was paying close attention to his apology, one might wonder if he were truly talking about his hiding his injury.
"My loyalty has always been unwavering," Cat says to Martin. "...and will continue to be."

Upon hearing Corwin's offer of help, Martin licks his lips nervously. He ties to pull his hand from Cat's grasp, as if to hide it. "I'll be fine."

"You've been saying that all day," Cat replies, her eyes softening a bit. "But if that were so, you wouldn't be near so thirsty all the time. Please let him help you, Martin."

Taking a seat on a log outside the hut's entrace, Julian looks up, his eyes squinting in the bright spring day. "There's a stream - when Benedict returns, we'll have plenty of water for boiling."

Nearby, Corwin has tied up the horses, and removed the bodies to the ground, further off, so they won't upset the horses any more.

"I suppose," Julian remarks, "that you two should sit down and tell us what's been going on - none of it sounds good so far."

Still pulled about like a large child, Martin just shrugs to Julian. "Where should we begin? My father's murder perhaps? That really set everything into motion, to be honest. As for Amber, I'll leave that to Cat. I was too busy fleeing for my life, no thanks to my brother."

"I would guess that Martel's strings are being as pulled as if he were a marionette, from what you told me of Bleys cajoling you into giving up the crown.. not that you wanted it anyway. Uncle Bleys has been too busy a bee for his own good lately. Did you see Gerard's face last night when Bleys came in on the litter with Thomas. He was not a happy man in that moment." Cat says to Martin, a flash of aggravation in her eyes as she sets herself across from Martin and begins to unwrap the bandages from Martin's hand.

The young Prince winces as the cut is revealed to all, but perhaps not from pain. He looks up at Corwin, nervous, eyes almost pleading. "It was a stupid accident during a duel. As you can see."

"I find it too much a coincidence to be coincidence that his son, Christophe just *happened* to find Merlin and bring him to Amber, " she grumbles.

Corwin raises an eyebrow. "He was found by Bleys' son?" He looks over to Julian, who says nothing.

"Yes, Uncle," Cat answers. She rolls her eyes just able to hear Christophe's voice, retelling the story, with embellishments, of course.

"There is no such thing as a coincidence with our family. Every action, moment, and occurrence are all part of the Great Game." He sighs again, glancing around with thirst in his eyes.

He nods to Cat, "Aye. It was an interesting evening that. One I could have missed without too much upset."

"As well as I," Cat agrees, giving Martin a wink and a grin. "Remind me to avoid all social occassions with our family in the future, okay?"

Martin smirks and shrugs his shoulders, "Well, if you think that was bad, just wait until your wedding, love. Not only will you have to deal with the family on the Amber side… but the Rebma. Now /that/ is a social occasion I'd suggest you avoid, but it'd be pretty hard for you to do so, I think." He rolls his eyes, "Of course, knowing the Queen and Aunt Flora, it will take over a year just to plan the thing. And don't even think about eloping. They track you down no matter where you go. Besides- you'll look good in pink and green."

Cat lets out an 'I hadn't thought of that' groan, in jest, "Unless you know something I do not, I shall be wearing white. As for anyone else, those colors may be just the thing to put off the majority of them. Besides, it shall be a lovely Rebman Ceremony, lest the groom be arrested at the alter in Amber!"

Martin smiles faintly. "You wouldn't believe what they had planned for me years back. Why do you think I left Rebma before they could hook me up with someone?"

Softening her voice, she continues, "When Benedict returns, I shall tell you all that I know of recent occurrences."

In the minute or so that passes, Julian remains very quiet, while Corwin seems deep in thought, though he is alert enough to give Cat a pouch of healing herbs.

The wound's on Martin are oddly infected, which is strange, as infections don't do well in Amber, and Martin hasn't been in shadow long enough for one to set in. Taking the pouch from Corwin and the water from Benedict, she utters a "thank you" as she looks closely at the infection. Squeezing gently the wound, she cleans any puss that oozes out of it.

"No way around this, Martin. This is going to hurt like hell," Cat says, starting the process of cleaning and applying herbs to the wound. She gently blows on it to try and help the sting ease off.

"Son of Hungafugger," Martin hisses as Cat begins cleaning the wound in earnest. He half laughs/half growls through the pain, looking over at the trees rather than watch the process. "Well, you were right about the hurting like hell part, alright. Looking back, this was not one of my wiser plans."

He chuckles as she blows on it, "You'll make me feel like a child if you keep that up. I'll be fine. Besides, the pain takes the edge off."

Cat gives Martin a sheepish grin, "Oops."

Red and swollen, they hurt to look at. A mark on Martin's wrist looks very much like a human bite mark, though the punctures are rather sharp.

"What the hell? I thought you had grabbed a blade. Who or what bit you?" she asks.

Martin glances down at the bite mark, and honestly appears confused. For a moment, he is lost in thought and memory. He chews his lip, weighing his next words. Finally, he says, "He must have bitten me while we struggled. I just never noticed it, I guess."

Cat looks carefully at Martin, "Did you get more than a glance at this...person?"

Corwin examines the bite mark..."too small for a man..." he comments, "unless he was very short."

He gives Martin an odd look.

Martin remains quiet, returning Corwin's look. He just shrugs and does not answer.

As he answers and she continues to attend this rather nasty wound, Cat relays the goings on since the time of Random's assassination.

"Gerard was going to take regency but gave it to Rowan as an impartial third party instead. He asked me to assist in Random's funeral, though I never got to examine the body more than a bit cursory. The body did have the appearance of our two outside after his death though. I had figured it to be caused by the poison, not that there is any evidence I've seen of any being used. Strange that. Fiona did proclaim that Father and Caine were the likely culprits and your twin was thrown in the pokey..." she looks at her father. "Good duplicate, by the way. Had your personality down to a 'T'."

Cat continues, "Well, Gerard decided to give all his MERLOGH buddies some kind of big break while asking the nobles to give ten percent of their armies to replenish Amber's military, which admittedly was in poor order, as well as asking them to help refill the treasury coffers, I believe. Then he proceeded to banish Llewella and her daughter, as neither agreed with his taking regency. How I managed to be allowed to remain in Amber is a mystery since I was the loudest desenter among all present. Martel challenged Gerard to a duel and was thrown in the dungeons, from which he escaped. Following Random's burial, Fiona arbitrarily decided that since either Father or Caine probably killed Random but was still unable to determine exactly which one did it, Rowan Gerard summarily sentenced both to 20 years followed by lifetime exile. There's been this little tree that keeps overturning Oberon's statue, amusingly enough. Things calmed down until Candlemass where we nearly had a brawl on the dancefloor, Christophe showing off Merlin, as if he were his own pet, and Bleys bringing back Thomas. I got truly disgusted and left early to accompany Martin here to where Random is buried, then we spend a good majority of the evening together until I went to meet up with Martel who was in disguise, who surprised the crap out of me by asking me to marry him, and then went to visit the Tower where Christophe was taunting Julian with some stupid silk handkerchief or another, went back this morning, those two were released and that pretty much brings us up to speed. Now as for anything else, I really can't say with certainty, just what one hears from rumour and whatnot, and I prefer not to engage in unsubstantiated gossip. I prefer my topics of conversation to be proved."

Martin listens to this carefully. After all, most of it is news to him as well.

This revelation does not seem to sit well with the young Prince. He glares up at his uncles, "What of these doubles and their strange complex in death? Does my father still live, and that was just another doppelganger I grieved for?" He looks around the clearing as if expecting his father to step from the trees. "It'd make sense after all. He'd no sooner leave me the throne as a member of the Courts of Chaos."

Cat looks to the elders for any information that they may have regarding the duplicates.

Julian pipes in to answer his daughter's query. "Cat, these duplicates...these simulacrae....they are shadow-derived. That is, those of the Chaosians who decided to usurp us did so by taking one of our shadows and warping it to their will. In part, they did act like us because they are related to us...but their purpose was controlled by their dark masters. Caine and I spent much time in their prison...until we escaped. Through fate or chance, we found Corwin and Benedict at an old stopping point in shadow, and from there learned how they had left Chaos with Merlin."

When Julian speaks, he seems quite relieved that people's attention no longer focuses on him. He listens to his uncle speak, nodding every once and awhile. As Benedict continues, he cocks his head as if considering something. Still he remains silent, returning to his typical moody nature.

Another voice spoke up.

Benedict's. "Time has played a foul trick. Corwin and I left only what to us seems months ago, from Amber, to fight Chaos, and yet we still managed to meet Julian and Caine, who left Chaos for Amber before us, were captured and brought back to Chaos to be imprisoned months after their return, and still had to flee long years after our departure...it is as if Corwin, Merlin and I had been suspended in some gulf of time...until only recently."

He sets down the water.

Corwin looks suprised that Benedict would even talk that much, but the older, leaner man looks troubled, and disturbed, and so he says nothing.

Benedicts's eyes alight on Martin's. "You lie about this duel...the wound is self inflicted, I can tell from here, and your eyes do not decieve."

Martin's nose wrinkles, and you can almost hear his thoughts-Gee, thanks Benedict! "Never were one for subtlety were you, uncle?" he says instead. He regards the others for a moment, smiling apologetically. "Yes, the duel never happened. Yes, the wound is self-inflicted. But I can honestly tell you, I have no idea exactly what happened that night. All I know is after parting from Cat's company I returned to my room. A few moments later, I awoke in Osric's tomb, by myself. Something attacked me during that blackout, or so I assume. It had to have been something quite skilled as well. Benedict knows full well the extent to which I've hidden my real martial training."

Cat's face falls still and serious as Martin relates his tale. She finishes binding the wound and says nothing more of it.
Martin sighs deeply, and touches Cat's shoulder with his free hand. "Angel, I did not wish to worry you. If I had spoken the truth, you would have torn the castle down to the foundations searching for the assailant. Whoever, or whatever, it was-the last thing I desire is to meet up with it again. Especially if you might be hurt. Love for people makes us do stupid things, Cat. I'm sorry."

"I know your intention was well meant, Martin.I know that you would not lie to me unnecessarily," Cat replies simply.
"Good. I'm glad you understand my somewhat misguided ways," Martin says. "You know I'd do anything for you."

"Well, we are still left with a load of questions, aren't we?" she finally says. "First of all, let's look at the beginning and most basic question: Is Random dead? Well from where I sit, the Random in Arden who was killed was most likely one of these simulacrea. Therefore, we are left with one question that should precede anything else, where is King Random? Martin, if you are going to feel up to the task anytime soon, I believe we should collect your brother and go find out. Alive or dead, I think his sons should want to know either way."

"No," he says, a maturity in his voice. "If this is true, and my father still lives, I will seek him out alone. You must go to your fiancée and stand by his side. He will need you in the coming days. Remember, the fake Random pronounced I would be King in lull of his death. My claim means nothing then. Therefore, my passing the responsibility on to Martel is equally meaningless. He has no claim to the throne, something I seriously doubt he will take very well. You must stay by him and prevent him from doing anything rash. He is a hot-head, no matter how much he protests otherwise. He will need your counsel and calming influence."

He takes her hand and squeezes it tightly, "Swear to me you will do this and keep him from rushing off into Shadow or doing something stupid. Swear it. I will seek out my father. I… owe him that."

"I'll be buggered!" Cat exclaims, a flash of anger racing through her violet eyes. "Did you just tell me to 'run off home and play with Martel and keep him out of trouble'?! If you think for one moment that I'm going to sit back and weave tapestries, that infection has gone straight to your bloody brain! You don't give me much credit for knowing how to handle meself in a fight and you want me to look after your baby brother?"

Martin leans back in the face of Cat's fury. One could almost see his green hair blowing back in the hurricane of her outburst. He holds up his good hand defensively. "Cat," he says flatly, "I have never questioned your ability to handle yourself in a fight. I am certain you'd give me a good scar if we ever sparred. I did not intend for you to go weave tapestries. I wanted you to go hold Martel at bay. The boy is reckless. If it were up to him, he'd have the armies of Amber and Rebma marching off to save our father.

"Indeed, it is your ability in battle that I was counting on. If the little bugger gets out of line, you can thump him."

His lip quirks up, and he winks at her.

Anger almost immediately gives way to a calmer understanding in her eyes, "I know that you are only wanting what is safest for Martel and me, but you have to think that if Random is still alive, then shouldn't *both* of his sons have a right to seek him out and see him well?"

"No," he says. "If someone is holding him, drawing the two of us into this fray is exactly what they intend for us. It is better that only one of us goes. Should trouble arise, it would be far better to have you and my brother safe rather than joining me in the dragon's mouth. Then you can come pull my arse out of the fire.

"Besides, I will have at least one of my uncles with me I suspect."

Corwin folds his hands as he sits on the log. Squinting into the sun for a moment, he utters, "I believe Random to be alive...as soon as we can, I should like to free him."

"I will attend to such, uncle," Martin says. "Like my beautiful cousin, you and your brothers should go to Amber. It will need you in the coming days, undoubtedly. Whoever did this, intends for the castle to be in a state of confusion. A ripe target for attack. With your intimate knowledge of how one might siege Amber, I suggest you lend our cousins as much assitance as possible."

"As would I, Uncle Corwin." Cat replies. "As would I."

She takes a breath and continues, softly, "Father, as you and Caine were exiled as part of your release, to allow the members of the family in Amber to believe that your simulacrea and Caine's are your true selves and dead would give you a great deal of autonomy to pursue your own goals."

Julian looks to his daughter. "Perhaps....much remains to be seen, but I suspect the redheads are at their usual tricks again, and before we move, we will await Caine's arrival. If all goes well, he will have Isadora with him."
Cat nods in deference to her father's wisdom on the matter, a small smile playing on her lips that Isadora may be arriving. It is a marked difference than her actions only a few moments previous.

Martin nods to this, "I suspect you are correct. It was Bleys that convinced me to hand my supposed right to the throne over to Martel. He's had his fingers in everything. And now that I think of it, he might be behind Vincent's little outburst. He inquired if I would back Vincent should the time come. My uncle and I have had a… connection, but I doubt I could ever hope to see how many moves ahead he's planned."

He smiles at the mention of Isadora, then looks over at cat forlornly. He stares at her for a moment, then returns his attention to his wounded hand. He flexes it, causing a flash of pain to ripple across his features. Without looking up, he says, "I need a drink of something. I've waited long enough."

At the doorway, she looks back, "Not a smart move, Martin, but do what you will." One is left to wonder if it is the infection alone she refers to.

Benedict continues to look with a steady gaze at Martin. As if there were no break in the conversation, he speaks. "Osric's tomb? Do you not find that odd? Who removed you hence?"

Martin flexes his fingers as the herbs begin to numb his hand. He stares back up at Benedict, and shrugs. "Of course I find it odd. Otherwise, I would not have asked about him, uncle. As for whom put me there, I do not know. I barely recall being able to return to my chambers. If someone helped me, I would be the last one to know."

Benedict remains silent, scowling into the interior of the hut, then at the sky. He does not sing his earlier song again.

Corwin begins to sing a song, mournful and happy in stages, whileoccasionally picking his nails with a knife.

Julian brings out some food, fresh killed and roasted deer, and some new wine, and sets it out for Martin and Cat.

"We'll wait until Caine arrives, daughter, before we say more. If all is well, we may yet come up with a good picture of what transpires."

His last words fall as he looks at Martin.

Cat nods to her father as she heads for the door, leaving the offered meal behind.

"I will see to feeding and watering the animals," she announces, in a whisper.

 

 

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