Sign of the Unicorn

«It does not matter, for what I have to say,» he said. «Just hear me out. Things will go the way that they will go. If, during your long absence, you arranged this state of affairs - possibly even removing Dad and Brand as part of your design - then I see you as out to destroy all family resistance to your usurpation.»

«Would I have delivered myself to Eric to be blinded and imprisoned if this were the case?»

«Hear me out!» he repeated. «You could easily have made mistakes that led to that. It does not matter now. You may be as innocent as you say or as guilty as possible. Look down, Corwin. That is all. Look down at the black road. Death is the limit of the distance you travel if that is your doing. I have shown you my strength once again, lest you have forgotten. I can kill you, Corwin. Do not even be certain that your blade will protect you, if I can get my hands on you but once. And I will, to keep my promise. My promise is only that if you are guilty I will kill you the moment I learn of it. Know also that my life is insured, Corwin, for it is linked now to your own.»

«What do you mean?»

«All of the others are with us at this moment, via my Trump, watching, listening. You cannot arrange my removal now without revealing your intentions to the entire family. That way, if I die forsworn, my promise can still be kept.»

«I get the point,» I said. «And if someone else kills you? They remove me, also. That leaves Julian, Benedict, Random, and the girls to man the barricades. Better and better - for whoever it is. Whose idea was this, really?»

«Mine! Mine alone!» he said, and I felt his grip tighten, his arms bend and grow tense.

«You are just trying to confuse things! Like you always do!» he groaned. «Things didn't go bad till you came back! Damn it, Corwin! I think it's your fault!»

Then he hurled me into the air.

«Not guilty, Gerard!» was all I had time to shout.

Then he caught me - a great, shoulder-wrenching grab - and snatched me back from the precipice. He swung me in and around and set me on my feet. He walked off immediately, heading back to the gravelly area where we had fought. I followed him and we collected our things.

As he was clasping his big belt he looked up at me and looked away again.

«We'll not talk about it any more,» he said.

«All right.»

I turned and walked back to the horses. We mounted and continued on down the trail.

The spring made its small music in the grove. Higher now, the sun strung lines of light through the trees. There was still some dew on the ground. The sod that I had cut for Caine's grave was moist with it.

I fetched the spade that I had packed and opened the grave. Without a word, Gerard helped me move the body onto a piece of sailcloth we had brought for that purpose. We folded it about him and closed it with big, loose stitches.

«Corwin! Look!»

It was a whisper, and Gerard's hand closed on my elbow as he spoke.

I followed the direction of his gaze and froze. Neither of us moved as we regarded the apparition: a soft, shimmering white encompassed it, as if it were covered with down rather than fur and maning; its tiny, cloven hooves were golden, as was the delicate, whorled horn that rose from its narrow head. It stood atop one of the lesser rocks, nibbling at the lichen that grew there. Its eyes, when it raised them and looked in our direction, were a bright, emerald green. It joined us in immobility for a pair of instants. Then it made a quick, nervous gesture with its front feet, pawing the air and striking the stone, three times. And then it blurred and vanished like a snowflake, silently, perhaps in the woods to our right.

I rose and crossed to the stone. Gerard followed me. There, in the moss, I traced its tiny hoofmarks.

«Then we really did see it,» Gerard said.

I nodded.

«We saw something. Did you ever see it before?»

«No. Did you?»

I shook my head.

«Julian claims he once saw it,» he said, «in the distance. Says his hounds refused to give chase.»

«It was beautiful. That long, silky tail, those shiny hooves…»

«Yes. Dad always took it as a good omen.»

«I'd like to myself.»

«Strange time for it to appear… All these years…»

I nodded again.

«Is there a special observance? It being our patron and all… is there something we should do?»

«If there is, Dad never told me about it,» I said.

I patted the rock on which it had appeared.

«If you herald some turn in our fortunes, if you bring us some measure of grace - thanks, unicorn,» I said. «And even if you do not, thanks for the brightness of your company at a dark time.»

We went and drank from the spring then. We secured our grim parcel on the back of the third horse. We led our mounts until we were away from the place, where, save for the water, things had become very still.

CHAPTER 6