The Guns of Avalon by Roger Zelazny

“He believed I was seeking the throne, when all that I was consciously seeking was my memory. He agreed to help me return to Amber, and he succeeded in getting me back. Well, almost,” I corrected. “We wound up in Rebma. By then, I had told Random my true condition, and he proposed my walking the Pattern again as a means of restoring it fully. The opportunity was there, and I took it. It proved effective, and I used the power of the Pattern to transport myself into Amber.” He smiled.
    “At this point. Random must have been a very unhappy man,” he said.
    “He was not exactly singing with glee,” I said. “He had accepted Moire’s judgment, that he wed a woman of her choosing-a blind girl named Vialle-and remain there with her for at least a year. I left him behind, and I later learned that he had done this thing. Deirdre was also there. We had encountered her along the way, in flight from Amber, and the three of us had entered Rebma together. She remained behind, also.”
    I finished my wine and Benedict nodded toward the bottle. It was almost empty, though, so he fetched a fresh bottle from his chest and we filled our cups. I took a long swallow. It was better wine than the previous. Must have been his private stock.
    “In the palace,” I went on, “I made my way to the library, where I obtained a pack of the Tarots. This was my main reason for venturing there. I was surprised by Eric before I could do much else and we fought, there in the library. I succeeded in wounding him and believe I could have finished him, save that reinforcements arrived and I was forced to flee. I contacted Bleys then, who gave me passage to him in Shadow. You may have heard the rest from your own sources. How Bleys and I threw in together, assaulted Amber, lost. He fell from the face of Kolvir. I tossed him my Tarots and be caught them. I understand that his body was never found. But it was a long way down -though I believe the tide was high by then. I do not know whether he died that day or not.”
    “Neither do I,” said Benedict.
    “So I was imprisoned and Eric was crowned. I was prevailed upon to assist in the coronation, despite a small demurrer on my part. I did succeed in crowning myself before that bastard-genealogically speaking -had it back and placed it on his own head. Then he had me blinded and sent to the dungeons.”
    He leaned forward and studied my face. “Yes,” he said, “I had heard that. How was it done?”
    “Hot irons,” I said, wincing involuntarily and repressing an impulse to clutch at my eyes. “I passed out partway through the ordeal.”
    “Was there actual contact with the eyeballs?”
    “Yes”l said. “I think so.”
    “And how long did the regeneration take?”
    “It was close to four years before I could see again,” I said, “and my vision is just getting back to normal now. So-about five years altogether, I would say.”
    He leaned back, sighed, and smiled faintly.
    “Good,” he said. “You give me some small hope. Others of us have lost portions of their anatomy and experienced regeneration also, of course, but I never lost anything significant-until now.”
    “Oh yes,” I said. “It is a most impressive record. I reviewed it regularly for years. A collection of bits and pieces, many of them forgotten I daresay, but by the principals and myself: fingertips, toes, ear lobes. I would say that there is hope for your arm. Not for a long while, of course.
    “It is a good thing that you are ambidextrous,” I added.
    His smile went on and off and he took a drink of wine. No, he was not ready to tell me what had happened to him.
    I took another sip of my own. I did not want to tell him about Dworkin. I had wanted to save Dworkin as something of an ace in the hole. None of us understood the man’s full power, and he was obviously mad. But he could be manipulated. Even Dad had apparently come to fear him after a time, and had had him locked away. What was it that he had told me back