The Hand Of Oberon

«You are a fool, to wear your chains willingly! But if things do not call out to you to possess them and if power holds no attraction, what of knowledge? I learned the last of Dworkin's lore. I have gone on since then and paid dark prices for greater insight into the workings of the universe. This you could have without that price tag.»

«There would be a price,» Benedict said, «one that I will not pay.»

Brand shook his head and tossed his hair. The image of the Pattern wavered for a moment then, as a wisp of cloud crossed the moon. Tir-na Nog'th faded slightly, returned to normal focus.

«You mean it, you really mean it,» Brand said, apparently not aware of the moment of fading. «I shan't test you further then. I had to try.»

He halted again, staring.

«You are too good a man to waste yourself on that mess in Amber, defending something that is obviously falling apart. I am going to win, Benedict. I am going to erase Amber and build it anew. I am going to rub out the old Pattern and draw my own. You can be with me. I want you on my side. I am going to raise up a perfect world, one with more direct access to and from Shadow. I am going to merge Amber with the Courts of Chaos. I am going to extend this realm directly through all of Shadow. You will command our legions, the mightiest military forces ever assembled. You -»

«If your new world would be as perfect as you say, Brand, there would be no need for legions. If, on the other hand, it is to reflect the mind of its creator, then I see it as something less than an improvement over the present state of affairs. Thank you for your offer, but I hold with the Amber which already exists.»

«You are a fool, Benedict. A well-meaning one, but a fool nevertheless.»

He began to move again, casually. He was within forty feet of Benedict. Thirty… He kept moving. He finally paused about twenty feet away, hooked his thumbs behind his belt, and simply stared. Benedict met his gaze. I checked the clouds again. A long mass of them continued a moonward slide. I could pull Benedict out at any time, though. It was hardly worth disturbing him at the moment.

«Why don't you come and cut me down then?» Brand finally said. «Unarmed as I am, it should not be difficult. The fact that the same blood flows in both our veins makes no difference, does it? What are you waiting for?»

«I already told you that I do not wish to hurt you,» Benedict said.

«Yet you stand ready to, if I attempt to pass your way.»

Benedict simply nodded.

«Admit that you fear me, Benedict. All of you are afraid of me. Even when I approach you weaponless like this, something must be twisting your guts. You see my confidence and you do not understand it. You must be afraid.»

Benedict did not reply.

«…And you fear my blood on your hands,» Brand went on, «you fear my death curse.»

«Did you fear Martin's blood on your own?» Benedict asked.

«That bastard puppy!» Brand said. «He was not truly one of us. He was only a tool.»

«Brand, I have no desire to kill a brother. Give me that trinket you wear about your neck and come back with me now to Amber. It is not too late to set matters right.»

Brand threw back his head and laughed.

«Oh, nobly spoken! Nobly spoken, Benedict! Like a true lord of the realm! You would shame me with your excessive virtue! And what is the sticking point of this all?»

He reached down and stroked the Jewel of Judgment.

«This?»

He laughed again and strode forward.

«This bauble? Would its surrender buy us peace, amity, order? Would it ransom my life?»

He halted once more, ten feet from Benedict now. He raised the Jewel between his fingers and looked down at it.

«Do you realize the full powers of this thing?» he asked.

«Enough of th -» Benedict began, and his voice cracked in his throat.

Brand hurriedly took another step forward. The Jewel was bright before him. Benedict's hand had begun to move toward his blade, but it did not reach it. He stood stiffly now, as if suddenly transformed into a statue. Then I began to understand, but by then it was too late.

Nothing that Brand had been saying had really mattered. It had simply been a running line of patter, a distraction thrown up before him while he sought cautiously after the proper range. He was indeed partly attuned to the Jewel, and the limited control this gave him was still sufficient to enable him to produce effects with it, effects which I was unaware it could produce, but of which he had known all along.

Brand had carefully contrived his arrival a good distance from Benedict, tried the Jewel, moved a little nearer, tried again, kept up this movement, this testing, until he found the point where it could affect Benedict's nervous system.

«Benedict,» I said, «you had better come to me now,» and I exerted my will, but he did not budge nor did he reply.

His Trump was still functioning, I felt his presence, I observed events because of it, but I could not reach him. The Jewel was obviously affecting more than his motor system.