Read Online To Rule in Amber by Roger Zelazny, John Gregory Betancourt - Free Book Online

of the two fumbled a clay jar from their pack and poured water into a cup held by his brother. They both handed it to her.
    "Thank you." She drank deeply, coughed, gasped, and handed it back quickly.
    "Good?" I asked with a grin.
    "It was… water ." She gave a horrified shudder.
    "More?" Both boys grinned up at her, thinking she had enjoyed it.
    "I'm fine now."
    They looked at me again. "Sir? Perhaps for the old gentleman?"
    "We're both fine," I said. I glanced up the road and frowned. There would be an inn just ahead, beyond the grove of trees over the hill… a rambling old inn with a railed porch around the front. Dad could rest easily there. A brilliant physician lived on an estate not far beyond. He could help us.
    It had to be so. My vision made sure of it.

Seven
    Sure enough, the small town came into view when we topped the hill. As places go, it was nothing fancy, perhaps two dozen buildings, but a sprawling old inn sat facing us. Smoke drifted lazily from a pair of tall brick chimneys, carrying smells of fresh bread and roasting meat. Three gray-bearded old men sat on the porch in rocking chairs, whittling away at wooden blocks. As we approached, they all looked up and called cheery good-mornings.
    "Somethin' wrong with that fellow?" one of them asked me idly. He stared without concern at our father's bruised face and bound wrists.
    "He has seizures," I said. It came out sounding more exhausted than convincing; it had been a long day. "I tied him up to keep him from hurting himself. That last seizure almost killed him."
    "Ayah." Nodding sagely, he settled back into his chair and began rocking slowly once more.
    "You'll be wanting Doc Hand, then."
    "Not Young Doc Hand," said the second old-timer, still whittling. "The one you need is Old Doc Hand."
    "Ayah," said the third whittler. "Old Doc Hand, he's the best for seizures, sure enough. He lives over the short hills, nearer to Haddoxville than to Barleyton, at Manor-on-Edge."
    "Thanks," I said. Old Doc Hand would be our man.
    The first whittler said, "Have Young Jamas fetch Old Doc Hand for your daddy. Young Jamas ought to be inside, behind the counter more'n likely. He won't mind the trip. His girl's in Haddoxville, right enough."
    "Ayup," said the second whittler rocking slowly. "Young Jamas won't mind 'tall."
    I glanced at Blaise. "How are you doing?"
    "I feel much better," she said, giving me a look that said the worst for her had passed. "Though after that foul farm beverage, I need a real drink."
    "Jamas has the best wine in seven counties," said the third whittler.
    "Thanks," I said. "When you're thirsty, come in and I'll buy you all a round of drinks."
    "Thank you kindly!" said the first. "We'll be along presently, once Jamas has you settled in, sure as you're standin' there!"
    I carried Dad inside. As my eyes adjusted to the dimness of the low-ceilinged common room, I saw scattered tables and a long counter. A pot of something hearty-smelling simmered in the fireplace.
    Behind the counter stood a red-haired man of middling years. He looked up from polishing the thick oak slab used as a bar and gave a friendly nod. Could this be Young Jamas?
    "Mornin'," he said with a pleasant smile. "Somethin' wrong with that fellow you're carryin'?"
    "He's ill - having seizures." I decided to stick with that story.
    "Need a room, then?"
    "Three of them."
    "Have your pick upstairs." He nodded to the steps at the far end of the room. "There's no one else stayin' here at the moment. It's nothin' fancy, mind you, but the beds're warm and the food's good and plentiful."
    "That's all we want." I started for the stairs, then hesitated. Better take care of Dad first. "The men outside said to ask for Young Jamas. That wouldn't be you, would it?"
    He chuckled. "I haven't been Young Jamas in nigh on twenty years. That's my eldest boy. I'm just Jamas now."
    "Not Old Jamas?" I joked.
    "Nope. Old Jamas is my Da."
    "Pleased to meet you, Jamas ." I nodded politely. "I'm Oberon. This is my