"To Rule in Amber" - читать интересную книгу автора (Betancourt John Gregory)

Chapter 2

I took a deep breath, then let it out explosively.

“You're wrong!” I said. The severed head on the pole in Ilerium had uttered pretty much those exact same words. “Think back to what really happened. Look inside yourself. You will see the truth.”

“Traitor!” it cried. Its lips pulled back in a pained grimace. “Murderer! Butcher!”

I turned away. My eyes burned and my head pounded. I couldn't believe my luck. Why had the unicorns done this to me? Were they trying to punish me for some reason?

No, not the unicorns… the blame lay with Aber. Understanding came on me suddenly. I had returned to Juniper with the pole upon which King Elnar's head had been impaled. Aber had taken the pole. Later, at the Pattern, when I asked him for a staff, he had summoned one for me… and it was my bad luck that he had given me back the one which had held King Elnar's head.

The unicorns, with their life-giving magic, had somehow brought both the staff and King Elnar back to life, but joined together. It made a certain amount of sense. King Elnar's head had been growing into the pole, as I had discovered when I smashed his head to a pulp in Kingstown, what now seemed a lifetime ago.

“You deserve to die!” the face in the tree screamed. “No—death is too good for you! Torture! A thousand years of torture!”

I pressed my eyes shut and turned my face away. How much more of this could I take? Still King Elnar called down abuse. What could I do to stop him? What could I do to make it up to him?

“Enough!” I said. Drawing a deep breath, I whirled. My temper flared; I could not put up with his abuse any longer.

“Oh, the coward speaks!” he mocked. “Enough! Boo-hoo! Did I cry when you killed me?”

“I mean it!” I said. I drew my sword and took a step forward, raising my blade menacingly. Would it be soft like human flesh, or hard like a tree? “Shut up, o—!”

“Or what? What are you going to do, kill me again?” It actually laughed at me. “You always were a fool. A fool and a traitor! Look how you respect your oaths of allegiance. Will you kill me by your own hand this time? Or will you leave that to the hell-creatures?”

I sucked in an angry breath and raised my sword.

“Assassin!” it shrieked. “Assassin!”

“I'm only going to say this once,” I said in a dangerously quiet voice. I owed it to King Elnar's memory to try one last time to make peace with whatever part of him remained alive here. “Believe me, I could not have done anything more to help you. Had I stayed in Ilerium, we would both be dead now. That is the truth.”

“You should be dead!” it cried. “Thousands perished because of you! Murderer! Traitor!”

“Enough!” Rage swept through me.

Without a second's hesitation, I stabbed the face with the tip of my sword. Steel bit into its nose with the dull thump of metal hitting wood. It didn't penetrate far, but it seemed to hurt.

“Assassin!” the face howled, its voice rising in panic. Its eyes crossed almost comically as it tried to see the wound. “Help me, someone! Help me! Save me from the assassin!”

I jerked my sword free, leaving a long gash in the wood of its nose. Slowly, a sticky-looking black sap oozed out. It had the consistency of blood. And, like blood, it slowly beaded.

Still the tree cursed at me.

“Enough, I said!” My voice rose to a roar. If I couldn't out-fight or out-reason it, maybe I could out-shout it. “Be quiet, or I'll carve out your tongue!”

“You wouldn't dare!” it cried. “Oath-breaker! Liege-killer! Murderer!”

On and on it went.

I forced myself to take a deep, soothing breath. Clearly the hell-creatures had taken all of King Elnar's rational mind, leaving behind a creature that could only parrot human speech. Nothing remained of my old friend.

It was all too ridiculous. I couldn't allow hell-creatures to waste my time and energy. I would not fight a tree.

Shaking my head at the morbid humor of this whole situation, I turned away. I could easily waste all my time and energy trying to reason with this monstrosity. And maybe that's what the hell-creatures wanted. Maybe it was supposed to keep me busy until they could capture or kill me. Unfortunately for them, they were nowhere close. They would never find King Elnar again… never use him against me.

Clearly this thing wasn't my old liege. I didn't have to treat it with any special deference or respect. Nor would I fight with it. After all, what could I possibly accomplish by hitting a tree with a sword? Maybe I could claim “first sap” instead of “first blood” in our fight. Not that anyone would call striking an unarmed tree with a sword a fight…

Then the answer came to me suddenly.

I didn't have to do anything at all. If I wanted to win, all I had to do was walk away. If I abandoned it here, forever howling insults and cursing my name, it had no power over me.

Turning, I headed up the valley. And why not? With so many Shadows to choose from, I had no reason to ever come this way again. Let it scream. Let it curse my name. What did I care?

“Come back!” it yelled. “Coward! Simpering weakling! Traitor!”

I paused. Despite the soundness of my own advice, I discovered I couldn't just leave. I did care.

Maybe it was my oath to King Elnar. Maybe I owed something to his memory. Or maybe the hell-creatures had put a spell on the head, a compulsion to make me stay and argue with it against my own better judgment. Whatever the reason, I needed to make peace with the tree.

But how? Threats hadn't worked. Reason hadn't worked. What else remained?

“Assassin!” it continued to scream. “Murderer! Someone help me! Avenge my death! To arms! To arms! He's getting away!”

What else? Perhaps… reality?

With a sigh, I took a deep breath and faced the tree again. What did I have to lose? Things couldn't get any worse, after all. King Elnar had already died. Hell-creatures had already cut off and ensorcelled his head. Maybe, if he truly understood what had happened to him…

I seized on that idea: make him understand. If I could make him see his own grim predicament… or shut up for a minute to let me explain it… maybe that would be enough.

“Let in—” I began.

“Assassin!”

“Le—”

“Murderer!”

“—me explai—”

“Traitor!”

“—it to you!”

“Oath-breaker!”

I paused. The abuse didn't stop for a second.

A human being who talked and screamed and shouted non-stop would rapidly lose his voice. What about a tree? I didn't know. But I intended to find out.

“Liege-killer!”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “Tell me about it.”

And he did, calling me every sort of vile name imaginable—and some I never would have imagined. Through it all I just stood there and nodded, smiling now and again, making encouraging noises at all the right places. Maybe all he needed was time to talk himself hoarse.

Well, let him! His words couldn't hurt me.

Finally, as he began to repeat himself, I decided to take a rest. I sat beneath its spreading branches, stretched out my legs, and gave a wide yawn. Wriggling my back, I found a comfortable spot against the trunk, leaned back, and shut my eyes.

Abruptly the abuse stopped. I opened one eye.

“Go on,” I said. “Don't stop.”

“What are you doing?” he cried.

“Taking a nap.”

“Stop it! Murderer! Help me, someone!”

“Go on,” I said sarcastically. “I love the sound of your voice.”

If anything, that seemed to enrage him. He screamed, shouted, threatened, and insulted me time and again.

Despite the constant stream of abuse, it actually did feel nice to relax. I could even fall asleep here…

Closing my eyes again, I pretended to snore.

After ten minutes, the cursing and name-calling came to a stop. Now the tree muttered the vilest of threats under its breath, promises to disembowel, behead, and boil me in oil—sometimes all at once.

Minor progress, but progress nonetheless. I continued to snore.

The muttering lasted another ten minutes or so. At last it grew silent. Had I outlasted it? Had its murderous rage finally passed? Would it talk civilly to me now?

Cautiously opening one eye, I peeked up at King Elnar's face. He stared down at me, frowning severely.

“Don't stop,” I said with a chuckle. “The music of your voice soothes my sleep.”

“What are you doing?” it demanded.

“Resting.”

“Why?”

“I felt like it.”

“Traitor!”

“Scream all you want,” I said, folding my arms behind my head and closing my eyes. “It doesn't bother me a bit.”

“Why not?”

“We're far from Ilerium. I don't have to worry about hell-creatures finding and killing me here.”

“Why not?”

“It's just you and me, old friend. No one can hear you, so go ahead! Scream all you want! Curse. Call me names. It doesn't bother me. No one can hear you. After all, we're alone in this world.”

“I don't believe you.”

“And I don't care.” I closed my eyes. This time, I almost did fall asleep.

When at last it spoke again, suspicion hardened its voice. “What do you mean, alone?”

“We aren't in Ilerium anymore, old friend. We're in a new world… an empty world. No people. No hell-creatures. Just you and me. And you're a tree.”

“You're a liar!”

I actually laughed. “I wish I had a looking-glass. You're not even a tree—you're a face stuck in a tree. Now that's funny! King of Shrubbery, I'll call you!”

“Liar!”

“Shrub!”

When it didn't reply, I squinted critically up at the twisted, gnarled trunk. Had my words finally sunk in?

“You're not even a very good looking tree,” I went on. Why not add insult to injury? “You're lucky I don't have an axe. I have a feeling you'd make better kindling than anything else.”

“Liar! Liar!”

“Don't you believe me?” I streched one arm up, caught a low-hanging branch, and broke off a handful of leaves with a twist of my wrist.

“Ow!” it cried.

“Look! You really are a tree, whether you want to admit it or not!”

“That hurt!”

“What hurt?” I demanded.

“My… my leaves?” A horror-struck look came over the face, as it realized what it had said.

Leaves. Its leaves.

I smiled grimly.

“That's right, Your Highness,” I said. “As I already told you, you're a tree now, complete with roots, trunk, branches, and quite a nice bunch of leaves. Everything I've said to you has been the truth.”

Casually, I reached up and snapped off a small branch just above my head. I got a shriek in return.

“See?”

“Stop that!”

Perhaps I'd found the negotiating tactic I needed.

I said, “You need to keep a civil tongue, O King of Shrubbery. Set a good example for your people.” I nodded to one side. “The blackberry bushes over there are watching, after all.”

“Do not mock me, traitor!”

“Why not? It's fun.”

“Woe!” cried King Elnar's voice. “I am lost! I am a tree, and I am lost!”

“Be quiet,” I said, reaching for another branch, “or I will have to do a fair amount of pruning…”

The face closed its mouth with a snap. The silence seemed unexpected—almost unnatural. If it had enough sense left for self-preservation, what else might it be capable of? Maybe more of King Elnar remained than I had dared to hope.

Slowly I lowered my arm.

“If you're going to be reasonable,” I said calmly, “we can work things out between us.”

“You are trying to trick me!”

“Why would I do that?”

“I… I don't know. But you will! That's what traitors and murderers do!”

“Here's a thought. Maybe I won't trick you. I have no reason to, after all. And I'm neither a traitor nor a murderer. Don't call me that.”

“But—”

“But nothing! Everything I've told you has been the truth. You really are a face stuck in a tree. Hell-creatures killed you, not me. They put those words in your mouth and made you say them. The man I knew, the man you once were, would never have believed their lies. We fought them together, side by side.”

The face and I stared at one another. I didn't know what else to add; apparently, neither did he. We had reached an impasse. At least he had stopped yelling and calling me names.

Then a bird flew past, twittering loudly. I sat up, startled. A bird—the first animal I had yet seen in this world! It seemed the unicorns had left more than mere greenery and magical trees in their wake. I watched the bird land twenty feet away. It picked up a piece of grass, then flew to a nearby tree, where it seemed to be building a nest. If this world had animals, what else might there be? Perhaps… people?

Rising, I turned slowly, searching for any sign of civilization—houses, smoke from cooking fires, anything that spoke of a human presence. My gaze lingered a long time in the direction the unicorns had gone.

A perfect stream, surrounded by cattails and thick green reeds, burbled happily through the picturesque little valley. Iridescent dragonflies buzzed over the water, and a frog hopped from the bank into a blue-green pool with an audible splash.

“What are you looking for?” asked the tree.

“Shh!” I held up one hand for silence. Something felt subtly different…

Stealthy movement caught my eye. A single white unicorn moved with dainty steps from a copse of trees beyond the stream, lowered her head, and drank deeply from the frog's pool. She had something around her neck… something that looked like a giant ruby on a chain.

I gaped. It had to be the jewel my father had shown me in Juniper… the one he used to trace the new Pattern. This unicorn had to be the one that had helped Dad and me.

When she raised her head and she saw me staring at her, she stamped her right forefoot and tossed her head. I took a step in her direction. As I did, she turned and slipped into the trees. There she paused long enough to glance over her shoulder.

Follow me, she seemed to be saying. Follow me to your destiny.