Chapter 7     Confrontations

One year later...

The day had begun like any other.  Ashlyn had come off of her shift with the Musketeers and spent the morning sparring with fellow Rangers, practicing swordplay and various self-defense techniques.  Over the past year, Jasra had become a common sight at the Castle, seeing that she was there to visit Brand.  Ashlyn was even known to visit him once every so often. Where he was concerned, she felt that they weren’t close and he was being good about not rushing her on anything, so she felt that their father-daughter relationship was coming along just fine.

            It was late in the morning when Ashlyn decided on a visit to Kashfa.  She hadn’t really talked or seen Luke in a while and it seemed as good a time as any.  In fact, she was actually looking forward to it.

            The Trump of Kashfa’s throne room activated easily in her hand and as she stepped through, she was little surprised to find the place so bare and vacant—as in no guards.

            Wrong time of day, maybe?  No.  Or maybe he has a guest he’s entertaining, or maybe he decided to sleep in.  I hope it’s not sleep because it’s nearly midday .  I’ll just go find mom.  She’ll know where her favorite son is.

            Jasra was found in her room, freshening up.  “Hello, dear!  I didn’t even hear you come in!  Have you been here long?”

            “No.  I just thought I’d stop by and pay my brother a visit since I hadn’t seen him in a while.  Is he even here or is he out on business?” Ashlyn asked.

            “Oh, he’s here.  He wouldn’t have gone anywhere without having said goodbye to me first.  You couldn’t find him?” Jasra continued to work on her hair.

            “Since the throne room was completely empty I thought I’d ask before sending out the search party,” Ashlyn began backing out.  Something just wasn’t settling right in her gut.  She easily dismissed it as breakfast giving her an upset stomach, quickly excused herself and went in search for Luke.

            The unsettling feeling in her gut seemed to intensify with each negative answer she got out of the servants.  It seemed that none of them knew where Luke was.  She found her steps quickening as she headed to his room.

            The door was closed and there was no light coming from underneath it.  There was a strange salt-smell emanating from beneath the door.

            “Luke?” Ashlyn knocked loudly on the door.  “You in there?”  She was a little surprised to find that the handle turned quite easily.

            “Ren?  It’s Ash.  Did you not have the maid do your laundry or something?  It really reeks!” Ashlyn said loudly to chase away the tense feeling that seemed to grip her from all sides.  She lit a couple of lamps and opened the drapes to help air out the salt-smell that was definitely much stronger now that she had entered.

            “Hey, Renaldo!  Get up!” Ashlyn tried the bedroom door next and found herself pounding on it in panic.  The door was locked and the smell was strongest from here.  She applied her foot to the door and it yielded easily.  She was not prepared to take in the gruesome sight before her.  It was Luke, barely recognizable, lying dead in his bed which was drenched in his blood.  It appeared that he had been dead for only a matter of hours.

            “Ren...” it came out in a strangled sob as she clamped her hand over her mouth and her knees turned to jelly as she slid down the doorpost.  She tried to summon the guards, but the effort seemed to require more strength than she could give and her voice was failing her.  All that came forth were the sobs.  Hardly any sound came, but she could feel the knot in her stomach and the terrible knot in her throat and the hot tears that flowed freely as her whole body shook with emotion.

            As much as her strength would allow and using the door for some support she weakly backed out of the room and with her back to the crime scene, she pulled out her Trump deck to contact her mother but her fingers would not hold onto the deck and her cards went cascading all over the floor.  Frantically she found the one of Jasra and placed her hand upon it since it seemed that she was unable to hold the card.

            “Yes?  Oh, Ashlyn dear!  Did you find your brother?  What’s wrong?  Are you hurt?  What is it?” Jasra’s good mood instantly became near panic.  Ashlyn couldn’t speak.  She shook her head and simply reached out her hand to pull her through directly.

            “Ashlyn, just what the—” Jasra stopped short.  “That smell!”

            “Mom...” Ashlyn reached for her hand but it was then that Jasra had already seen for herself with a terrifying shriek as she too, sank to the ground and went into hysterics.  They found little comfort in each other’s embrace and as the sobs subsided, they simply rocked with the emotional pain.

            “My boy!  Who could have done it?  And why would they want to?  Ashlyn, you’d better call your father.  I won’t be able to.  I will call the guards so we can investigate and clean up,” she said as she pulled herself together.  She resolutely turned her back on the scene and walked out.  Her sobs had returned anew and could be heard as she staggered down the hall.

            Ashlyn slowly gathered up her Trumps and put them all straight again.  She could feel a stab of emotion shoot through her as she pulled out Brand’s Trump.  She found a nearby chair and sank into it.  She held the card and began to concentrate.  It took a while, but she finally got it to work.  Brand was in his cell reading.  He glanced up to acknowledge her.

            “Yes?  Ah, Ashlyn!  What a pleasant surprise!  You don’t look so good. Is there something the matter?” Brand asked as a look of concern seemed to come over his face.  Ashlyn nodded and sighed heavily as the tears sprung to her eyes again.

            “I’m not sure how to tell you this, but...” she faltered, taking another deep breath to steel herself.

            “What is it?  Was it something you did?  It can’t be as bad as all that!  Come now.  Tell me,” he said, now standing.

            “Maybe I think you should sit,” Ashlyn sighed again.  “It’s about Luke—”

            “Luke?  What about him?” Brand’s voice was sharp.

            “He’s dead,” she replied matter-of-factly.  Brand didn’t say anything.  He sat down in his chair again and ran his hands through his hair.

            “Does your mother know?”

            “Yes.  She didn’t take it well,” Ashlyn pressed her hand to her forehead.

            “I’ll give you a call back,” he said abruptly and cut the contact himself, leaving Ashlyn to deal with her own thoughts.  By this time, the Captain of the Guard had arrived with his squad to investigate and really didn’t pay Ashlyn any real mind, only bowed in silent respect as they passed.

            She made her way down to the throne room to find Jasra surrounded by guards and attendants as she told them the news and began to make funeral arrangements.  It just seemed to be too much.  She was feeling numb at the moment and nothing seemed real.  She turned away and began wandering the halls, her mind forming all sorts of questions.  Now with Luke dead, who would rule Kashfa in his stead?  She certainly did not want the honor.  She knew nothing about successfully running an entire kingdom.  Jasra would have to do it.

            As Ashlyn rounded the corner, she found that she was blindly making her way back to Luke’s room.  She shook her head as if it would clear the fuzzies out and realized that she was feeling the onset of a Trump call.

            “Yes?” she replied as she came to halt.

            “Ashlyn, pull me through,” Brand held his hand out.  “Random gave me the go ahead.”  Without question, she did as she was told and for the first time in her life without a door between them stood her father.  They held the other’s hand for a moment from being pulled through and looked the other deep in the eye.

            Ashlyn didn’t tremble or show any signs of fear.  In fact, she was feeling an indescribable feeling of calm.  Brand moved for a hug but she held up her hand as if to say, “Let’s not push it, shall we?”  She led him down the hall to Luke’s room.

            Brand barely reacted, but he was as serious and as somber as he was before.  “You found him like this?”  Ashlyn nodded in reply.

            “I know of a way to find out who did it, but I’m going to need your help and we’ll have to go to a shadow to do it,” he said as he began to rifle through a deck of Trumps.  “Ready?” He held his hand out to her again and they stepped through to a desolate looking place, all dark and gloomy.

            “I chose this place because we won’t be disturbed here.  I’m going into a trance and I need you to watch over me incase something happens to my body while I’m gone.  I’ll be gone for three hours.  If I’m gone longer than that, then you must call your aunt Flora and she will know what to do. When I get back, I will know who killed Luke and where the culprit went,” he explained as he prepared himself and went into the trance.

            For three very long and boring hours, Ashlyn dutifully watched over her father’s body.  At the end of three hours, she was about ready to call for Flora, but found that there was no need.  As she patiently waited for Brand to come around, she found the suspense nearly killing her inside, but she gave no obvious indication.

            “So what did you discover?” she asked as she helped him to rise.  The expression on his face was grave yet there was a hint of confusion.  He seemed to pause, not sure what to say. Ashlyn had to ask him again before he spoke.

            “Your Uncle Eric killed Luke and has fled to Corwin’s Pattern.  Eric never liked Corwin, so if Corwin is there, he’s in considerable danger,” he replied.

            “Uncle Eric?  Isn’t he supposed to be dead?  I thought he was some bodiless spirit or something.  Besides that, what the heck does he have against Luke? –or is it against you?” Ashlyn frowned.

            “Well, whatever the case, we have to go warn Corwin,” he said as he gathered up his things.     

            “Um, I don’t think that we’ll be very welcome.  I don’t think that Uncle Corwin likes me very much,” she began to shift her feet nervously.

            “Of course.  I suspect it’s possible to hold a grudge.  After all, I did nearly succeed in killing him,” Brand reflected.  “Why, did you do something to get on his bad side?”  Ashlyn put her hands on her hips and gave him a look and waited for it to connect.

            “Of course.  But that’s not going to stand in the way of persuing your brother’s murderer!  Let’s go!” Brand had created a Trump Gate back to Kashfa.  “Find us a couple of horses. We’ll have to Hellride!”

            Ashlyn wordlessly set off about her task once they had stepped through.  She found a couple of mounts that were suitable for the purpose in the stables and quickly saddled them herself.  She startled a poor stable boy with her brusque manner as she quickly worked.  She had them ready to go and was waiting out in the courtyard for Brand in less that ten minutes.

            With Brand leading the way Ashlyn followed closely.  The scenery was quickly becoming a blur all around her as the horses reached breakneck speeds.  All she could concentrate on was staying close to Brand as he manipulated the shadows about them and the horses went even faster.  It only seemed to be moments later when the horses were finally slowing down again.

            Once Ashlyn and Brand had arrived at Corwin’s Pattern, Ashlyn had made it a point to Trump Corwin to notify him of their presence.

            “Yes?” Corwin replied.  It had appeared that she had interrupted dinner of some kind.

            “Uncle Corwin, I must speak with you.  It’s important,” Ashlyn began.

            “I am somewhat busy,” he tried to brush her off, the hint of annoyance clear in his voice.

            “Corwin, I have to tell you that I have Brand with me and it’s a matter of life and death, namely yours!  Please pull us through,” Ashlyn said with all the authority she could muster.  She held her breath and stood her ground.  In truth, she was a little afraid of Corwin.

            Corwin seemed a little put out and annoyed to say the least, but obliged her to pull them through to him.  He was not looking happy in the least.  It was discovered that the cousins were there on business to discuss peaceful alternatives to the Chaos Lords wanting to go to war over the fact that Corwin’s Pattern was too close to Chaos “borders”.  Corwin graciously introduced Ashlyn and Brand to his Chaos guests, but the fact that he was highly annoyed was very prevalent.

            “So Niece, what brings you to Avalon?” he asked and remembered his manners.  “Would you care to sit?”

            “Thank you, no.  It might not be known to anyone outside the immediate family, but my brother Luke, the King of Kashfa was found murdered this morning.  We’re here investigating his death and we have tracked the murderer here,” she announced.  Brand only stood back behind her and gauged the reactions of those present.  It was enough for Corwin to raise his eyebrows.

            “And what makes you think that he’s here?” he asked.

            “Brand discovered this by use of a spell.  He discovered that the bodiless spirit of Eric killed Luke and had fled here to your Pattern.  Now he’s running loose in Avalon!” Ashlyn was beginning to notice the effort she was making to keep her voice steady.

            “You’re sure?” Corwin half raised out of his seat, the anger becoming apparent in his eyes.

            “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t,” Ashlyn said with a kind of finality that got a scowl out of Corwin.  He thew a look of daggers in Brand’s direction but said nothing to him.

            Coral had risen out of her seat unnoticed and was standing behind Corwin with her sword upraised.  She swung down at Corwin and missed thanks to Pandora’s quick save.  It was enough for Corwin’s guests to rise up out of their seats.  Blake and Vincent had her restrained and under control easily,

            “It’s Eric,” Brand said from where he was standing.

            “What?!” Corwin looked at him as if he had truly lost it.

            “Call him a bodiless spirit—whatever.  He’s taken control of Coral.”

            “Might I suggest calling in Dworkin on this?  I believe that he could help,” Vincent suggested. 

“If you think you can get a hold of him,” Corwin nodded his consent as he tried to process what was happening.  With Blake’s help, Vincent contacted Dworkin and took both Coral and Blake with him as he stepped through.

            “Well.  Now it looks like we’ll be playing the waiting game to find out if Dworkin can extract Eric from the Jewel—if that’s indeed the case.  Brother, forgive our intrusion.  We’ll leave you alone now.  My apologies to your guests for the intrusion.  Ashlyn, let’s be on our way,” Brand bowed low and with hand extended helped Ashlyn step through a Trump gate to Amber Castle.

            “Thanks for your help, Ashlyn,” Brand said quietly.

            “Your welcome,” she replied in kind and stood regarding him for a moment.

            “I’m going to let Random know I’m back.  You know where to find me.  Better let your mother know what’s going on,” he took her hand and held it for a moment before turning away from her.  Ashlyn didn’t pull away from him and simply watched him walk away.  A moment later she pulled out her mother’s Trump.

            Jasra was in the middle of Luke’s funeral arrangements, and was glad to hear that it was discovered who the murderer was.  The funeral was to take place in three days, she informed.  Ashlyn only nodded that she heard and cut the contact.  So much had happened in one day.  She just wanted to have time for herself to let it all sink in and then maybe let herself have a terrific cry and mourn her brother.  Blindly, she began to wander the corridors of Amber Castle and found herself heading for her room.

            Oddly, all the lights were extinguished.  No problem.  Just reach over and re-light them again. Easier said than done, unfortunately.  In the dark from under her bed she did not notice a steel bar that was protruding from underneath it and she tripped on it, practically crushing her ankle.  She cried out as she hit the floor, but before she could call out for help, someone had assailed her with a knife and was proceeding to stab her with it.  It all happened so fast and her head was fuzzed with the pain of her ankle that she couldn’t defend herself at all as she could feel the knife slash through her gut.  Was this how Luke died? she wondered.

            She knew she was dying and there was nothing she could do about it.  Just as she was slipping into unconsciousness, she was dimly aware that someone else had entered the room and was attacking her attacker.  She couldn’t fight the swirling blackness as it overtook her completely and swallowed her whole.

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