Free SIGN OF CHAOS by Roger Zelazny Page B

time.”
    “Well, I hope to live a long time myself, and I hope it doesn’t make me look for an ulterior motive in every human act.”
    She smiled.   “Of course.   Forget I said anything,” she told me, knowing I wouldn’t.   “Have a good time.”
    I growled politely and headed for my room.

CHAPTER 4
    And so, in the midst of all manner of threats, intrigues, menaces, and mysteries, I decided to call a holiday and stroll about town with a pretty lady.   Of all possible choices I might have made, it was certainly the most attractive.   Whoever the enemy, whatever the power I faced, the ball was now in its court.   I had no desire to hunt for Jurt, duel with Mask, or follow Luke about until he came down and told me whether or not he still wanted the family’s scalps.   Dalt was not my problem, Vinta was me, Ghostwheel was silent, and the matter of my father’s Pattern could await my leisure.   The sun was shining and the breeze was, gentle, though these could change quickly at this season.   It was a shame to waste what could well be the year’s last good day on anything less than enjoyment.   I hummed as I repaired myself, and I headed downstairs early for our meeting.
    Coral had moved more quickly than I’d guessed, however, and was waiting for me.   I approved of her sensible dark green breeches, heavy coppery shirt, and warm brown cloak.   Her boots looked fine for walking, and she had on a dark hat that covered most of her hair.   There were gloves and a dagger at her belt.
    “All ready,” she said when she saw me.
    “Great,” I replied, smiling, and I led her out into the hallway.
    She started to turn in the direction of the main doorway, but I led her off to the right, then later to the left.
    “Less conspicuous to use one of the side doors,” I said.
    “You people are certainly secretive,” she said.
    “Habit,” I replied.   “The less that outsiders know of your business the better.”
    “What outsiders? What are you afraid of?”
    “Just now? A great number of things.   But I don’t really want to spend a nice day like this making lists.”
    She shook her head in what I took to be a mixture of awe and disgust.
    “It’s true what they say then?” she asked.   “That your affairs are so complex you all carry scorecards?”
    “Haven’t had time for any affairs recently,” I told her, “or even a simple score.” Then, “Sorry,” I added, when I saw her blush.   “Life has been a bit complicated for me lately.”
    “Oh,” she said, glancing at me, clearly asking for elaboration.
    “Some other time,” I said, forcing a laugh, flipping my cloak, and greeting a guard.
    She nodded and, diplomatically, changed the subject:
    “I guess I came at the wrong time of year to see your famous gardens.”
    “Yeah, they’ve pretty much had it for the season,” I said, “except for Benedict’s Japanese garden which is kind of far out back.   Perhaps we can go and have a cup of tea there one day, but I thought we’d go into town now.”
    “Sounds fine,” she agreed.
    I told the postern guard to tell Henden, Amber’s steward, that we were heading into town and weren’t sure when we’d be back.   He said that he would as soon as he got off duty, which would be pretty soon.   My experience at Bloody Bill’s had taught me the lesson of leaving such messages-not that I thought we were in any danger; or that Llewella’s knowing wouldn’t be sufficient.
    Leaves crunched beneath our feet as we took one of the walks toward a side gate.   With only a few strands of cirruis high overhead, the sun shone brightly.   To the west, a flock of dark birds flapped its way toward the ocean, south.
    “It’s already snowed back home,” she told me.   “You’re lucky.”
    “There’s a warm current that gives us a break,” I said, remembering something Gerard had once told me.   “It moderates the climate considerably; compared to other places at equal latitude.”
    “You