rz.thegunsofavalon-第35部分
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he rest of you put together。〃
〃I am sorry； too； then。〃
〃I guess I had better be going now。〃
He nodded。
〃Good…by； Corwin。〃
〃Good…by； Gerard。〃
After waiting several hours for the sun to disappear behind the hill； leaving the house in a premature twilight； I mashed a final cigarette； shook out my jacket and donned it； rose to my feet。 There had been no signs of life about the place； no movement behind the dirty windows； the broken window。 Slowly； I descended the hill。
Flora's place out in Westchester had been sold some years before； which came as no surprise to me。 I had checked merely as a matter of curiosity； since I was back in town。 Had even driven past the place once。 There was no reason for her to remain on this shadow Earth。 Her long wardenship having ended successfully； she was being rewarded in Amber the last time I had seen her。 To have been so near for as long as I had without even realizing her presence was a thing I found somewhat galling。
I had debated contacting Random； decided against it。 The only way he could possibly benefit me would be with information as to current affairs in Amber。 While this would be nice to have； it was not absolutely essential。 I was fairly certain that I could trust him。 After all； he had been of some assistance to me in the past。 Admitted； it was hardly altruism … but still； he had gone a bit further than he had had to。 It was five years ago； though； and a lot had happened since。 He was being tolerated around Amber again； and he had a wife now。 He might be eager to gain a little standing。 I just did not know。 But weighing the possible benefits against the possible losses； I thought it better to wait and see him personally the next time I was in town。
I had kept my word and resisted all attempts to make contact with me。 They had e almost daily during my first two weeks back on the shadow Earth。 Several weeks had passed； though； and I had not been troubled since。 Why should I give anyone a free shot at my thinking machinery？ No thanks； brothers。
I advanced upon the rear of the house； sidled up to a window； wiped it with my elbow。 I had been watching the place for three days； and it struck me as very unlikely that anyone was inside。 Still。。。
I peered in。
It was a mess； of course； and a lot of my stuff was missing。 But some of it was still there。 I moved to my right and tried the door。 Locked。 I chuckled。
I walked around to the patio。 Ninth brick in； fourth brick up。 The key was still beneath it。 I wiped it on my jacket as I walked back。 I let myself in。
There was dust on everything； but it had been disturbed in some places。 There were coffee containers； sandwich wrappers； and the remains of a petrified hamburger in the fireplace。 A lot of weather had found its way down that chimney in my absence。 I crossed over and closed the damper。
I saw that the front door had been broken about the lock。 I tried it。 It seemed to be nailed shut。 There was an obscenity scrawled on the wall in the foyer。 I walked on into the kitchen。 It was a total mess。 Anything that had survived plunder was on the floor。 The stove and the refrigerator were gone； the floor scarred where they had been pushed along。
I backed away； went and checked my workshop。 Yes； it had been stripped。 pletely。 Passing on； I was surprised to find my bed； still unmade； and two expensive chairs all intact in my bedroom。
My study was a more pleasant surprise。 The big desk was covered with the litter and muss； but then it always had been。 Lighting a cigarette； I went and sat behind it。 I guess it was just too heavy and bulky for anyone to make off with。 My books were all on their shelves。 Nobody steals books but your friends。 And there …
I could not believe it。 I got to my feet again and crossed the room to stare at close range。
Yoshitoshi Mori's beautiful woodcut hung right where it had always been； clean； stark； elegant； violent。 To think that no one had made off with one of my most prized possessions。。。
Clean？
I scrutinized it。 I ran my finger along the frame。
Too clean。 It bore none of the dust and grit which covered everything else in the house。
I checked it for trip wires； found none； removed it from its hook； lowered it。
No； the wall was no lighter behind it。 It matched the rest of the wall perfectly。
I put Mori's work on the window seat and returned to my desk。 I was troubled； as someone doubtless intended me to be。 Someone had obviously removed it and taken good care of it … a thing for which I was not ungrateful … and then only just recently restored it。 It was as if my return had been anticipated。
Which should be adequate reason for immediate flight； I suppose。 But that was silly。 If it was part of some trap； it had already been sprung。 I jerked the automatic from my jacket pocket and tucked it behind my belt。 I had not even known that I would be ing back myself。 It was just something I had decided to do since I had had some time on my hands。 I was not even certain as to why I had wanted to see the place again。
So this was some sort of contingency arrangement。 If I should e by the old homestead； it might be to obtain the only thing in the place worth having。 So preserve it and display it so that I will have to take notice。 All right； I had。 I had not been attacked yet； so it did not seem a trap。 What then？ A message。 Some sort of a message。 What？ How？ And who？
The safest place in the house； had it remained unravaged； should still be the safe。 It was not beyond any of my siblings' skill。 I moved to the rear wall； pressed the panel loose； and swung it out。 I spun the dial through its bination； stepped back； opened the door with my old swagger stick。
No explosion。 Good。 Not that I had expected any。
There had been nothing of any great value inside … a few hundred dollars in cash； some bonds； receipts； correspondence。
An envelope。 A fresh； white envelope lay in plain sight。 I did not remember it。
My name upon it； written in an elegant hand。 Not with ballpoint either。
It contained a letter and a card。
Brother Corwin； the letter said； If you are reading this； then we still think enough alike for me to be able to anticipate you somewhat。 I thank you for the loan of the woodcut … one of two possible reasons； as I see it； for your returning to this squalid shadow。 I am loathe to relinquish it； as our tastes are also somewhat akin and it has graced my chambers for several years now。 There is something to the subject that strikes a familiar chord。 Its return is to be taken as evidence of my good will and a bid for your attention。 In that I must be honest with you if I am to stand a chance of convincing you of anything； I will not apologize for what has been done。 My only regret； actually； is that I did not kill you when I should have。 Vanity it was； that played me for a fool。 While time may have healed your eyes； I doubt it will ever significantly alter our feelings for one another。 Your letter …〃I'll be back〃 … lies upon my writing table at this moment。 Had I written it； I know that I would be back。 Some things being equal between us； I anticipate your return； and not without somewhat of apprehension。 Knowing you for no fool； I contemplate your arriving in force。 And here is where past vanity is paid of present pride。 I would have peace between us； Corwin； for the sake of the realm； not my own。 Strong forces out of Shadow have e to beset Amber regularly； and I do not fully understand their nature。 Against these forces； the most formidable in my memory ever to assail Amber； the family has united behind me。 I would like to have your support in this struggle。 Failing that； I request that you forbear invading me for a time。 If you elect to assist； I will require no homage of you； simply acknowledgment of my leadership for the duration of the crisis。 You will be accorded your normal honors。 It is important that you contact me to see the truth of what I say。 As I have failed to reach you by means of your Trump； I enclose my own for your use。 While the possibility that I am lying to you is foremost in your mind； I give you my word that I am not。 … Eric； Lord of Amber。
I reread it and chuckled。 What did he think curses were for； anyway？
No good； my brother。 It was kind of you to think of me in your moment of need … and I believe you； never doubt it； for we are all of us honorable men … but our meeting will e according to my schedule； not yours。 As for Amber； I am not unmindful of her needs； and I will deal with them in my own time and fashion。 You make the mistake； Eric； of considering yourself necessary。 The graveyards are filled with men who thought they could not be replaced。 I will wait though； to tell you this； face to face。
I tucked his letter and the Trump in my jacket pocket。 I killed my cigarette in the dirty ashtray on my desk。 Then I fetched some linen from the bedroom to wrap my batants。 They would wait for me in a safer place； this time。
As I passed through the house once again； I wondered why I had e back； really。 I thought of some of the people I had known when I had lived there； and wondered whether they ever thought of me； whether they wondered what had bee of me。 I would never know； of course。
Night had begun and the sky was clear
