The Devil's Armour (Gollancz S.F.) (46 page)

Then, exactly four weeks after coming to the library, Lorn decided he needed to speak with Van. It was a decision forced on him by Eiriann, who informed him that she and the others were ready to leave and would do so in two days. As always, the girl assumed that Lorn would go with them. Unable to disappoint her, Lorn remained vague, but he realised a time of decision had come. He needed answers. He needed to speak with Van.

It was mid-afternoon and the day was surprisingly warm. Library Hill bustled with activity as Breck’s soldiers continued erecting defences and training with their mounts and weapons. Women and girls washed clothes and hung them to dry in the yards, while men and boys from the city did the work of tending animals and stacking grain. Supplies continued to be brought in from the corners of Koth, for it was said that Jazana Carr had moved on Liiria and that a great battle was about to take place in Andola.
The soldiers and the people they protected worked diligently to prepare the library for siege. Eiriann and the others – who collectively called themselves the Believers – continued their own preparations as if nothing threatened them. And indeed, they
were
unthreatened by Jazana Carr. By the time her forces arrived in Koth they would be long gone.

But would Lorn be going with them? Deciding between a fairy tale and the reality of slaying Jazana Carr was too much for Lorn to decide on his own. It surprised him that he needed Van to help make his choice. So Lorn went in search of Van, and after asking around discovered his friend hard at work mending an ancient stone fence on the south side of Library Hill. Van was all alone at his toil, working shirtless in the sun with a pile of stones and a pail of mortar beside him. Away from the others and kneeling near the stubby wall, he looked strange doing the work of a tradesman. But he also looked content. Lorn paused a good distance from his friend, watching him as he worked the mortar with a trowel, carefully eyeing its level before laying the heavy stones. Sweat ran down his bare back, which had been cooked red from the sun. Too involved in his work to notice the interruption, it was not until Lorn’s shadow crossed his view that he started. He turned around with trowel in hand, but his face fell when he noticed Lorn.

The two men stared at each other for an awkward moment.

‘You do good work,’ said Lorn.

Van glanced at his uneven mortar line and shrugged. ‘Trying.’

‘I need to talk to you.’

The request vexed Van. After a moment he said, ‘I need a break anyway,’ then put down his trowel and sat himself on the grass. The sun struck his eyes, and he squinted as he looked up at Lorn. ‘You want to sit? Oh wait! Maybe I should be standing. You’re a king, after all.’

Lorn remained on his feet. ‘You’ll get no apology from
me. I did what was required to protect my daughter. And we all have secrets . . . don’t we, Van?’

‘Ah, is that why you’re here? Because I didn’t tell you about Grimhold? I was wondering when you’d come about that.’

‘Eiriann and the other Believers are leaving soon, probably in a day or two. I have to make a decision whether or not to go with them.’

‘I thought you made that choice already. Breck told me you planned to go with them.’

‘I’m not sure what to do,’ said Lorn. ‘Or what to believe. You were in Jador. You must have seen something.’

‘You mean magic?’ asked Van. ‘No. Not with my own eyes, at least.’ He glanced down at the ground, shading his eyes from the sun. ‘I never got to ride to Grimhold with the others. My company stayed behind in Jador. After we took the city General Trager ordered it secured.’

‘But there is a Grimhold? It really exists?’

‘Oh yes,’ said Van. ‘It exists.’

Lorn hovered over him. ‘Tell me what happened. It might be your last chance.’

‘Sure,’ Van laughed. ‘Why shouldn’t I? It’s no worse than anything you’ve done in your life.’ He shifted over so Lorn could sit with him. When the older man was settled he began, ‘Jador was a beautiful city. I don’t know what it looks like now, but it was really something when we got there. King Akeela was out of his mind, of course, and General Trager was no better. We’d hunted the Bronze Knight across the desert and there was no way the general was going to let him get away, but the Jadori put up a good fight. They’re a fierce bunch, I’ll tell you.’

‘But you defeated them,’ said Lorn.

‘That’s right. We had too many men with us; the Jadori never really had a chance. After we battled them on the desert we rode into their city. By then they didn’t have many fighters left, but they still wouldn’t surrender.’

‘So you slaughtered them.’

‘Worse than that,’ said Van. ‘They didn’t have a chance but we fought them anyway. We killed most of them in the fight, but those we captured . . .’ His voice trailed off.

‘What?’ Lorn pressed.

‘We crucified the ones we captured. Trager had us build crosses outside the city, facing Grimhold. Kind of a warning to them, I suppose. We took the prisoners and hung them there.’ Van’s face paled as he recalled the grisly task. ‘My company was given that duty.’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘And I
did
it, that’s the worst part. Some mad general gave me an order and I obeyed. He wasn’t so different from you, Lorn. And he had all of us puppets dancing, doing his dirty work for him.’

‘War,’ said Lorn. ‘That’s what happens. I know. When I was king I expected my orders carried out, no questions.’

‘I tried that excuse,’ said Van. ‘It didn’t work. I still think of those people we hung out there. I think of them every day. I don’t think they’ll ever leave me. Sometimes I think they’re with me, haunting me.’ He laughed, dark and miserable. ‘Like magic, you might say.’

‘What do you know about the other magic? What do you know about Grimhold?’

‘Like I said, I never went there. When we got word that General Trager was dead I was so happy. Akeela was already dead by that point. We all scattered, all us so-called Royal Chargers. You know about that already. But I heard stories from some of them that came back, about the people there. They’re not like the Jadori. They’re a different race. They’re magical beings for sure.’

‘Your companions told you that?’

‘Aye. Some of them don’t even look normal. They look like monsters. But they can do things, weird things with their minds. One of them fought General Trager in the city. Disappeared, right while they were battling! Just blinked right out of sight. That’s a true story, mind you, not some tavern babble.’

‘Ah, but can they heal people?’

Van shrugged. ‘Could be. If they can make themselves disappear I suppose they can do anything. All I know for certain is that Grimhold exists. And I know that Lukien lives there still. Aric Glass’ father, too.’

‘The baron?’

‘Aye, Baron Glass.’ Van’s voice dipped an octave. ‘We were hunting him as well, not just the Bronze Knight. Maybe Aric knows that already. It’s not for me to say either way. But just listen to me, Lorn – if those two scoundrels have holed up there, it must be some kind of special place.’

‘Yes,’ Lorn agreed, nodding. ‘And if they can help Poppy . . .’

‘Like I said, maybe the Grimhold dwellers can heal folks, maybe they can’t. But Eiriann and all those others seem to believe it, and whatever those people are they’re not human.’ Van sighed. ‘But then, what does being human really mean? I don’t think it means nailing men to crosses.’

‘Stop pitying yourself,’ chided Lorn. ‘Being a man means making mistakes. And it means following orders, even ones you don’t like.’

‘You say that so easily. You see? That’s why people think you’re a beast. You can order a man crucified and have your breakfast while you watch. Norvor’s better off without you, Lorn. Jazana Carr was right.’

‘Humph, yet here you are, ready to fight her,’ scoffed Lorn. ‘Just like I said you should be.’

‘One tyrant at a time,’ said Van, but there was affection in his face. ‘I’ve got a place here now. Maybe I do have you to thank for that. I’m grateful to be here, I’ll admit. So? What about you? You going?’

‘Eiriann and her father need me,’ he said. ‘I don’t think any of those fools they’re travelling with have any idea what they’ll face on the way. Half of them are crippled and the other half are just plain stupid.’

Lorn realised how hot he was suddenly and reached over for Van’s waterskin. He took a long drink to refresh himself. In the distance he watched the grounds of the
library buzzing with activity. He longed to be part of its defence. In his heart he was a soldier, born to fight. But Poppy needed him, and if there was any hope for her to lead a normal life . . .

He capped the skin and was about to dismiss himself when he noticed a commotion at the bottom of the hill, way down where the winding road began and the land was obscured by trees. At first he saw a lone horsemen coming around the bend, then another and a half-dozen more, and when he stood he noticed there were scores of men behind them, many lagging back on foot.

‘What’s that?’ he queried. To his eyes they looked Liirian soldiers, but that was impossible. Yet when Van stood to study them he confirmed the strange suspicion.

‘Chargers. They’re Royal Chargers!’

Lorn looked around in confusion. Only now had anyone else noticed the odd brigade. Around the grounds people began dropping their tools and milk stools. At the bottom of Library Hill the sorry-looking soldiers gazed up in tired awe.

‘Van,’ said Lorn haltingly, ‘I think the fence can wait.’

An hour later, Lorn was once again in the great reading room of the library, just as he was that first day he had come to Koth. As before, the room was filled with Breck’s aides, who were all in turn filled with questions. Breck himself sat quietly at the head of the polished table. This time, however, it was not Lorn who was being interrogated. Instead a pair of Liirian officers, both shabbily dressed in dust-caked uniforms, bore the brunt of the questioning. Their names were Nevins, a cavalry major, and Aliston, a captain of archers. And the tale they told made Lorn white with dread.

They had come from Andola, now fallen, leading their men across Liiria over the past week in a desperate bid to reach Koth. Baron Ravel, their former employer, was dead, as was their commander, a man named Colonel Bern,
whom Breck seemed to remember personally. They had put up a great struggle against Jazana Carr, but the Diamond Queen had amassed such a force that not even Ravel’s considerable fortune could best her. Andola was now in her hands. Amazingly, she had conquered her first Liirian city. And she had done it in a day.

Major Nevins had come to Koth with more than three hundred men. Some had come with him all the way to the library, others were still at the outskirts of Koth, too exhausted to make the last leg of the journey. They were all famished and the servants of the library were already hard at work feeding them. Nevins and Captain Aliston ate as they talked, devouring the food they were brought and draining tankards of beer. Nevins took long pauses while he told his story, sating his hunger at the same time and talking with his mouth full of food. Breck listened to the major with amazing patience, interrupting only occasionally. Mostly, though, he considered the heavy news the Liirians had brought. Lorn could see his mind working behind his passive expression.

Remarkably, there was no animosity in Breck. Nevins and his men were to have been their enemies. Eventually, had Ravel lived, the two leaders would have faced each other in battle. Now, that possibility had disappeared.

‘Bern wanted us to come,’ Nevins explained between swigs of beer. ‘He wouldn’t come himself because he gave his word to Baron Ravel, that pig-eyed fox. I didn’t want to come either, truth be told. I wanted to stay and fight that slut Jazana Carr.’

Captain Aliston nodded gravely. ‘We all wanted that.’ The captain was considerably younger than the major and spoke with sincerity. ‘Bern was a good man, Commander Breck, whatever you think of him.’

‘He was a Liirian in the end,’ said Breck. ‘That’s what matters.’

His aides seemed to concur. Lorn himself sat apart from the officers, at a separate nearby table. Aric Glass was
among them, as was Murdon. Vanlandinghale was there as well, sitting nearest to Lorn but still with his fellow soldiers. There was hardly a whiff of mistrust in the air. The men from Andola recounted their battle with the Norvans proudly, and Lorn listened with rapt attention. He could barely believe his luck. At last, Jazana Carr was coming.

‘We bloodied their noses good,’ said Captain Aliston.

‘But that’s all we did,’ added Nevins. At last he pushed away his plate. ‘You’ve never seen anything like it. Jazana Carr’s rallied men from all over Norvor. Rolgans, men from the twin cities, men from Harn . . . they’ve all come to her banner.’

‘Because she pays them,’ said Van. ‘I know; I was one of her men once. Don’t mistake their vigour for loyalty, Major.’

Van’s confession made Nevins’ expression sour. ‘So, you were one of her lot, eh? That’s disheartening.’

‘We could all point fingers at each other,’ warned Breck. ‘Forget the past. Remember what your colonel told you – we’re all Liirians now. We’re going to protect this library. The rest of the city, too. With your men we really have a chance now, Major.’

‘And you’ve been kind to take care of us,’ replied Nevins. ‘I thank you for that.’

‘No need for thanks. Just so you know one thing, Major – you may have outranked me when King Akeela was alive, but no more. This is my command. As long as you and your men are here you’ll do as I say. Here at the library we speak with one voice. Mine.’