Free PRINCE OF CHAOS by Roger Zelazny Page A

you’re asking for a commitment before taking out Tmer and Tubble, forget it, I’m not all that eager to sit on a throne.”
    “Your wishes are not paramount in this,” he said.   “There is no reason for squeamishness when you consider that we’ve long been at odds with Jesby, and Chanicut’s always been a troublemaker.”
    “Squeamishness has nothing to do with it,” I said.   “I never said I wanted the throne.   And, frankly, I think either Tmer or Tubble would probably do a better job.”
    “They are not designates of the Logrus.”
    “And if I am, I should make it without any help.”
    “Brother, there is a big gap between its world of principles and ours of flesh, stone, and steel.”
    “And supposing I have my own agenda and it does not include your plan?”
    “What is it, then?”
    “We’re speaking hypothetically, remember?”
    “Merlin, you’re being obstinate.   You’ve a duty in this, to the House as well as to the Courts and the Logrus.”
    “I can assess my own duties, Mandor, and I have-so far.”
    “If you’ve a plan to set things right, and it’s a good one, we’ll help you to effectuate it.   What have you in mind?”
    “I do not require help at this point,” I said, “but I’ll remember that.”
    “What do you require right now?”
    “Information,” I said.
    “Ask me.   I have a lot.”
    “All right.   What can you tell me about my mother’s maternal side, the House of Hendrake?”
    He pursed his lips.
    “They’re into soldiering, professionally,” he said.   “You know they’re always off fighting in Shadow wars.   They love it.   Belissa Minobee’s been in charge since General Larsus’s death.   Hm.” He paused.   Then, “Do you ask because of their rather odd fixation involving Amber?”
    “Amber?” I said.   “What do you mean?”
    “I recall a social visit to the Ways of Hendrake one time,” he said, “when I wandered into a small, chapel-like room.   In a niche in one wall there hung a portrait of General Benedict, in full battle regalia.   There was an altar-like shelf below it bearing several weapons, and upon which a number of candles were burning.   Your mother’s picture was there, too.”
    “Really?” I said.   “I wonder whether Benedict knows? Dara once told my father she was descended from Benedict.   Later, he figured this an out-and-out lie.   ...   Do you think people like that would hold a grudge against my father?”
    “For what?”
    “Corwin slew Borel of Hendrake at the time of the Patternfall War.”
    “They tend to take such things philosophically.”
    “Still, I gather it was a somewhat less than kosher engagement from the way he described it-though I don’t believe there were any witnesses.”
    “So let sleeping wyverns lie.”
    “I’ve no intention of rousing them.   But what I was wondering was that if they had somehow heard details they might have been out to clear some debt of honor on his behalf.   Do you think they could have been behind his disappearance?”
    “I just don’t know,” he replied, “how that would fit in with their code.   I suppose you could ask them.”
    “Just come out and say, ‘Hey, are you responsible for whatever happened to my dad?’ “
    “There are more subtle ways of learning a person’s attitudes,” he responded.   “As I recall, you had a few lessons in them in your youth.”
    “But I don’t even know these people.   I mean, I might have met one of the sisters at a party, now I think of it-and I recall having seen Larsus and his wife in the distance a few times-but that’s it.”
    “Hendrake will have a representative at the funeral,” he said.   “If I were to introduce you, perhaps you could apply a little glamour to obtain an informal audience.”
    “You know, that may be the way to go,” I told him.
    “Probably the only way.   Yes, do that, please.”
    “Very well.”
    He cleared the table with a gesture, filled it with another.   This