Zelazny, Roger The Second Chronicles of Amber 02 Blood of Amber

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or low mountainside, depending on how one regards such matters-and the whining note of the wind came
down even more loudly from those broken heights. There was also a thump at my back, and when I
turned I could no longer locate the cave mouth. My journey along the route from the fiery door had been
completed once I exited the cave, and its spell had apparently clamped down and closed the way
immediately. I supposed that I could locate the outline upon the steep wall if I wanted to, but at the
moment I had no such desire. I made a little pile of stones before it, and then I looked about again,
studying details.
A narrow trail curved off to my right and back among some standing stones. I headed in that
direction. I smelled smoke. Whether it was from the battle site or the area of vullcanism below I could
not tell. The sky was a patchwork of cloud and light above me. When I halted between two of the stones
and fumed to regard the scene below once again, I saw that the attackers had formed themselves into
new groups and that the ladders were being home toward the walls. I also saw what looked like a
tornado rise on the far side of the citadel and begin a slow counterclockwise movement about the walls.
If it continued on its route it would eventually reach the attackers. Neat trick. Fortunately it was their
problem and not mine.
I worked my way back into a stony declivity and settled myself upon a low ledge. I began the
troublesome shapeshifting work, which I paced to take me half an hour or so. Changing from something
nominally human to something rare and strange-perhaps monstrous to some, perhaps frightening-and then
back again is a concept some may find repugnant. They shouldn't. We all of us do it every day in many
different ways, don't we?
When the transformation was completed I lay back, breathing deeply, and listened to the wind. I
was sheltered from its force by the stones and only its song came down to me. I felt vibrations from
distant tremors of the earth and chose to take them as a gentle massage, soothing. . . . My clothes were
in tatters, and for the moment I was too tired to summon a fresh outfit. My shoulder seemed to have lost
its pain, and there was only the slightest twinge in my leg, fading, fading. . . .I closed my eyes for a few
moments.
Okay, I'd made it through, and I'd a strong feeling that the answer to the matter of Julia's killer lay in
the besieged citadel below. Offhand, I didn't see any easy way into the place at the moment, to make
inquiry. But that was not the only way I might proceed. I decided to wait where I was, resting, until it
grew dark-that is, if things here proceeded in a normal dark-light fashion. Then I'd slip downstairs,
kidnap one of the besiegers and question him. Yes. And if it didn't get dark? Then I'd think of something
else. Right now, though, just drifting felt best. . . .
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For how long I dozed, I was uncertain. What roused me was the clicking of pebbles, from
somewhere off to the right. I was instantly alert, though I didn't stir. There was no effort at stealth, and the
pattern of approaching sounds-mainly slapping footfalls, as of someone wearing loose sandals-convinced
me that only a single individual was moving in this direction. I tensed and relaxed my muscles and drew a
few deep breaths.
A very hairy man emerged from between two of the stones to my right. He was about five and a half
feet in height, very dirty, and he wore a dark animal skin about his loins; also, he had on a pair of sandals.
He stared at me for several seconds before displaying the yellow irregularities of his smile.
"Hello. Are you injured?" he asked, in a debased form of Thari that I did not recall ever having heard
before.
I stretched to make sure and then stood. "No," I replied. "Why do you ask that?"
The smile persisted. "I thought maybe you'd had enough of the fighting below and decided to call it
quits."
"Oh, I see. No, it's not exactly like that. . . ."
He nodded and stepped forward. "Dave's my name. What's yours?" "Merle," I said, clasping his
grimy hand.
"Not to worry, Merle," he told me. "I wouldn't turn in anybody who decided to take a walk from a
war, unless maybe there was a reward and there ain't on this one. Did it myself years ago and never
regretted it.
Mine was goin' the same way this one seems to be goin', and I had sense enough to get out. No
army's ever taken that place down there, and I don't think one ever will."
"What place is it?"
He cocked his head and squinted, then shrugged. "Keep of the Four Worlds," he said. "Didn't the
recruiter tell you anything?"
I sighed. "Nope," I said.
"Wouldn't have any smokin' stuff on you, would you?"
"No," I answered, having used alI my pipe tobacco back in the crystal cave. "Sorry."
I moved past him to a point where I could Iook downward from between the stones. I wanted
another Look at the Keep of the Four Worlds. After all, it was the answer to a riddle as well as the
subject of numerous cryptic references in Melman's diary. Fresh bodies were scattered all over before its
walls, as if cast about by the whirlwind, which was now circling back toward the point whence it had
risen. But a small party of besiegers had apparently made it to the top of the wall despite this. And a fresh
party had formed below and was headed for the ladders. One of its members bore a banner I could not
place, but which seemed vaguely familiarblack and green, with what might be a couple of heraldic beasts
having a go at each other. Two ladders were still in place, and I could see some tierce fighting going on
behind the battlements. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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