Free PRINCE OF CHAOS by Roger Zelazny Page B

time, paper-thin crepes with a variety of fillings and toppings appeared before us; and fresh rolls, variously spiced.   We ate for a time in silence, appreciating the balminess and the birds, the breezes.
    “I wish I could have seen something of Amber,” he said at length, “under less restricted circumstances.”
    “I’m sure that can be arranged,” I replied.   “I’d like to show you around.   I know a great restaurant in Death Alley.”
    “That wouldn’t be Bloody Eddies, would it?”
    “It would, though the name gets changed periodically.”
    “I’ve heard of it, and long been curious.”
    “We’ll do that one day.”
    “Excellent.”
    He clapped his hands and bowls of fruit appeared.   I‘ freshened my coffee and swirled a Kadota fig in a bowl of whipped cream.
    “I’ll be dining with my mother later,” I remarked.
    “Yes.   I overheard.”
    “Have you seen much of her recently? How’s sher been?”
    “As she said, rather reclusive,” he replied.
    “Do you think she’s up to something?”
    “Probably,” he said.   “I can’t recall a time when she hasn’t been.”
    “Any idea what?”
    “Why should I guess when she’ll probably tell you outright?”
    “You really think she will?”
    “You have an advantage over everyone else, in being her son.”
    “Also a drawback, for the same reason.”
    “Still, she’s more likely to tell you things than she would anyone else.”
    “Except, perhaps, Jurt.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    “She always liked him better.”
    “Funny, I’ve heard him say the same thing about you.”
    “You see him often?”
    “Often? No.”
    “When was the last time?”
    “About two cycles ago.”
    “Where is he?”
    “Here, in the Courts.”
    “At Sawall?” I had visions of him joining us for lunch.   I wouldn’t put something like that past Dara either.
    “One of its byways, I think.   He’s rather reticent concerning his comings and goings-and stayings.”
    There being something like eight byway residences to Sawall that I knew of, it would be difficult to run him down through byways that could lead well into Shadow.   Not that I’d any desire to, at the moment.
    “What brings him home?” I asked.
    “The same thing as yourself, the funeral,” he said, “and all that goes with it.”
    All that goes with it, indeed! If there were a genuine plot to put me on the throne, I could never forget that-willing or unwilling, successful or unsuccessful-Jurt would be a step or two behind me all the way.
    “I may have to kill him,” I said.   “I don’t want to.   But he’s not giving me a whole lot of choice.   Sooner or later, he’s going to force us into a position where it has to be one or the other.”
    “Why do you tell me this?”
    “So you’ll know how I feel about it, and so that you might use whatever influence you may still have to persuade him to find a different hobby.”
    He shook his head.
    “He moved beyond my influence a long time ago,” he said.   “Dara’s about the only one he’ll listen to-though I suspect he’s still afraid of Suhuy.   You might speak to her concerning this matter, soon.”
    “It’s the one thing neither of us can discuss with her-the other.”
    “Why not?”
    “It’s just the way it is.   She always misunderstands.”
    “I’m certain she’s not going to want her sons killing each other.”
    “Of course not, but I don’t know how to put the matter to her.”
    “I suggest you make an effort to find a way.   In the meantime, I would contrive not to be alone with Jurt should your paths cross.   And if it were me, in the presence of witnesses, I would make certain that the first blow was not mine.”
    “Well taken, Mandor,” I said.
    We sat for a time in silence.   Then, “You will think about my proposal,” he said.
    “As I understand it,” I replied.
    He frowned.
    “If you have any questions...”
    “No.   I’ll be thinking.”
    He rose.   I got to my feet, also.