“Okay. I’ll take you there with me. It’s place.”

“Are you really as good as the men say?”

“I’m afraid not. Are you?”

“Not really. Do you want to go to bed now?”

“No. I’d rather talk. Have a glass of wine.”

“Thank you… Your health.”

“Yours.”

“Why is it you are such a good swordsman?”

“Aptitude and good teachers.”

“…And you carried Lance all that distance and slew those beasts…”

“Stories grow with the telling.”

“But I have watched you. You are better than the others. That is why Ganelon made you whatever deal he did. He knows a good thing when he sees it. I’ve had many friends who were swordsmen, and I’ve watched them at practice. You could cut them to pieces. The men say you are a good teacher. They like you, even if you do scare them.”

“Why do I frighten them? Because I am strong? There are many strong men in the world. Because I can stand up and swing a blade for a long while?”

“They think there is something supernatural involved.”

I laughed.

“No, I’m just the second-best swordsman around. Pardon me — maybe the third. But I try harder.”

“Who’s better?”

“Eric of Amber, possibly.”

“Who is he?”

“A supernatural creature.”

“He’s the best?”

“No.”

“Who is?”

“Benedict of Amber.”

“Is he one, too?”

“If he is still alive, he is.”

“Strange, that’s what you are,” she said. “And why? Tell me. Are you a supernatural creature?”

“Let’s have another glass of wine.”

“It’ll go to my head.”

“Good.” I poured them.

“We are all going to die,” she said.

“Eventually.”

“I mean here, soon, fighting this thing.”

“Why do you say that?”

“It’s too strong.”

“Then why stick around?”