I took a small sip of the fiery drink.

“No,” I said. “What happened to those things you indicated earlier that you knew and I didn’t?”

“Hardly important, if you accept my offer.”

“Even if I were to accept, I’d want to know.”

“Bag of worms,” he said.

“You listened to my story. I’ll listen to yours.”

He shrugged and leaned back in his chair, looked up at stars.

“Swayvill is dying,” he said.

“He’s been doing that for years.”

“True, but he’s gotten much worse. Some think it has, to do with the death curse of Eric of Amber. Whatever, I really believe he hasn’t much longer.”

“I begin to see…”

“Yes, the struggle for the succession has become more intense. People have been falling over left and right — poison, duels, assassinations, peculiar accidents, dubious suicides. A great number have also departed for points unknown. Or so it would seem.”

“I understand, but I don’t see where it concerns me.”

“One time it would not have.”

“But?”

“You are not aware that Sawall adopted you, formally, after your departure?”

“What?”

“Yes. I was never certain as to his exact motives. But you are a legitimate heir. You follow me but take precedente over Jurt and Despil.”

“That would still leave me way in hell down on the list.”

“True,” he said slowly. “Most of the interest lies at the top…”

“You say ‘most.’”

“There are always exceptions,” he answered. “You must realize that a time such as this is also a fine occasion for the paying off of old debts. One death more or less hardly rouses an eyebrow the way it would have in more placid times. Even in relatively high places.”