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