The Devil's Armour (Gollancz S.F.) (9 page)

‘Your daughter is hungry,’ said the woman. There was mildness in her voice. ‘She’s a good baby. A gentle feeder.’

Lorn grimaced. No one had told him that before, and he wasn’t sure what it meant. ‘She has great need of you, no doubt.’

‘She is quiet,’ said the woman. ‘And her expression is strange.’ She paused, then said, ‘Can this child see?’

It was the question Lorn had dreaded. ‘I don’t know yet,’ he confessed. ‘She is deaf, that I know already. She can see shadows, I think. But she can eat, and that’s all that should concern you.’

‘Where is her mother?’

‘Dead.’

Another pause. ‘A cruel world, especially for a child born like this one. I am sorry for her.’

‘Do not be sorry.’

‘I’m sorry that the girl has a brute for a father and no
mother to learn from. I suppose she should be grateful you haven’t killed her yet.’

Lorn suppressed his anger. ‘What is your name, woman?’

She surprised him by answering quickly. ‘Gedena. What is yours?’

‘I won’t be telling you, so don’t ask again. Where is your husband? A woman with children shouldn’t be alone in these parts.’

‘No,’ chuckled the woman acidly. ‘You would know about that, wouldn’t you?’

This time Lorn turned around just as she was switching breasts. The sight of her exposed bosom quelled his anger. She looked up at him. He stared. Seeing her softened him at once. She was beautiful in a way, because she was feeding his child and because he missed Rinka so much. The woman named Gedena hefted Poppy higher to cover herself.

‘Look away,’ she said.

Reluctantly, Lorn did so. ‘I am right, though,’ he said. ‘A woman should not be left alone. Your husband does you no good leaving you to yourself.’

‘You see this place? What kind of palace do you think it is? My husband has gone to earn money for us. He’s gone to fight with Jazana Carr’s army.’

‘What?’ It took a great effort for Lorn not to turn around again. ‘He’s left you to fight with that witch?’

The woman guffawed. ‘You are a southerner. I can hear your accent. Jazana Carr pays good gold and diamonds for men who will fight. It’s more than the king has done for us.
Your
king, southerner.’

Lorn bristled at the words. He was hated; he’d always known that. But word of his fall had yet to reach Gedena, it seemed. ‘Then your husband is a turncoat. He is not a man at all if he would fight for Jazana Carr.’

‘Enough!’ said Gedena. ‘I’ll not sit here and listen to you castigate my man, not while I feed your daughter milk meant for my own son!’ She rose. Lorn turned around and saw her bitter face. ‘If King Lorn is so just, why do you run
north? Your king is a tyrant and a fool. Jazana Carr offers us freedom.’

‘She will enslave you with her diamonds,’ said Lorn. He took Poppy, now sated, from the woman. ‘She will change Norvor, and you will not like it when she does.’

Gedena began buttoning up her shirt. ‘What would a man know of change? You come to my home and order me to feed your child. Because I am a woman I have no choice. You threaten my children and I have no choice. I yield to you because I must. But it will not be so when Jazana Carr triumphs. And when King Lorn hangs, I will celebrate.’

Stung, Lorn looked at Poppy, then back at Gedena. The woman had done him a remarkable favour, but only for the sake of the girl. He wondered how willing she’d have been to feed a boy child.

‘Jazana Carr has poisoned your mind,’ he told her. ‘She will bring chaos to Norvor. Mark my words – you will miss King Lorn someday.’

‘I will not,’ said Gedena, ‘any more than I would miss a wart.’ She had dressed herself and now stood up tall, summoning her dignity. Obviously she was waiting for Lorn to leave. He dug into his pocket and fished out a silver coin, one of a handful he had stolen off the Rolgans. Gedena glowered when he held it out for her.

‘I am not a whore,’ she said. ‘What I did I did for the sake of the child.’

‘You have done me a service,’ Lorn said. ‘Take it, and if you have some milk I could take with me I would be glad for it. For the child, you see. We still have a long ride ahead of us.’

‘Now you would take goat milk? After I offered it to you before?’

‘Unless there are more willing teats on the road to Liiria, my daughter will starve without it. And I won’t take it; I will pay for it.’

‘Liiria?’ Gedena raised her eyebrows. ‘Why would you
take the child there? I thought you wanted to escape war. You won’t find peace in Liiria.’

Again Lorn went into his pocket and came out with another coin. ‘This one is to keep your tongue from wagging. My business in Liiria is my own. Now, will you fetch us what we need?’

Gedena frowned, still unwilling to help.

‘Have I not kept my promise to you, woman? You and your children are unharmed. My daughter is fed and I can be on my way now. What I’ve paid you is more than you deserve, but you’ve shamed me into it. The milk would be fair recompense.’

Reluctantly, Gedena nodded. ‘All right, but you bring that child to her doom, you know. Perhaps you don’t know this, being from the south – Liiria is at war with itself. There’s no safety there for you. If you’re a deserter—’

‘I am not a deserter, madam,’ said Lorn stiffly.

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Perhaps not. But if you’re trying to make a better life for that girl, you should stay here in the north. There will be peace soon. Jazana Carr has promised it. The war is almost over.’

More so than you think
, thought Lorn. He said, ‘I cannot stay in Norvor. Now ask me no more questions.’

Gedena nodded and went to the open doors. Immediately she wrapped her arms around herself again. ‘It’s a cold night.’ She turned and frowned at Poppy. ‘Too cold for you to be riding with that child. Fate above, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you should stay here until morning. Give that child some rest.’

The offer stunned Lorn. ‘You’re asking me to sleep here?’

‘Unless you’re willing to leave the child . . .’

‘No,’ said Lorn.

Gedena smirked. ‘I didn’t think so. You can spend the night out here. I have blankets and a lamp for you. But let me bring the baby inside. She’ll be better off for it.’

‘I can look after my daughter well enough, thank you.’

‘No, you cannot. You had no milk or proper food for the
child, and now you want to ride off with her in the darkness. Why are men such fools? Give me the child.’ She held out her hands. Lorn’s expression soured. She said, ‘Come, hand her here. In the morning you can take her back. Ride off to whatever god-cursed country you want, I won’t be able to stop you. But at least for tonight let the girl have some comfort.’

It was all logical, and Lorn was too tired to argue. ‘Very well,’ he relented, and handed the child to Gedena. ‘What is it about women?’ he muttered. ‘You suckle a babe once and you act like it’s your own.’

‘We’re all mad, don’t you know that? Isn’t that what you southerners say?’

‘Not just southerners, madam.’

Gedena adjusted the swaddling around Poppy. ‘Will you at least tell me the child’s name?’

Lorn shook his head. ‘No. Take care of my daughter. See that she gets a good night’s sleep.’

‘I’ll bring in those blankets and lamp,’ replied Gedena. She paused a moment to frown at Lorn. ‘You are wrong about my husband, you know. He is a good man. Not like you.’

‘Then you’ll be glad to be rid of me,’ said Lorn. ‘Just remember what I said – keep my daughter safe.’

Gedena turned without answering him and went back to her house. Lorn watched her the entire time, until she disappeared inside. He supposed he had done the right thing, but he still wasn’t certain. Poppy needed a warm place to sleep, that much was true. And this place seemed safe enough. He went back into the stable and laid himself down on the hay. He was wretchedly tired, and when he remembered his horse left outside he cursed.

‘Oh, damn it . . .’

He decided to rest just a moment before bringing the beast inside. Exhaustion quickly overtook him, though, and he was asleep before Gedena returned with the blankets.

The heat of the desert made the horizon shimmer. An ever-present breeze whispered on the air. Up in its orange cradle, the merciless sun, god of this world, burned the sky.

Lukien of Liiria looked out across the dunes, across what looked to be an endless sea of sand, squinting with his one eye against the mirages rising from the earth. From where he sat upon his horse it seemed the Desert of Tears was all there was, and all that had ever been. No longer could he see Jador or its splendid spires, nor sprawling, menacing Ganjor. There was only sand, forever shifting, devouring itself. Lukien unwrapped the gaka from around his face. He had never gotten used to the heavy desert clothes. He drew a hand across his forehead and wiped away a slick of sweat. The relentless sun blinded him.

‘I see nothing,’ he said to his companions. ‘You?’

Beside him, Gilwyn Toms sat upon his kreel, a small female of the species he had named Emerald. Like all of them, Gilwyn wore a gaka to stave off the sun. The scales of his reptilian mount riffled anxiously through colours as she and her rider scanned the horizon.

‘Nothing,’ replied Gilwyn. He turned toward the men they’d brought with them, five Jadori warriors who had become their friends, and a single Inhuman from Grimhold wrapped completely in robes so that every inch of his skin was covered. The dark-coloured Jadori were used to the desert sun and so did not hide themselves behind gakas as
completely as the northerners did. Each of them watched the distant dunes. Together they had ridden a long way from Jador, hurrying out into the desert once news had reached them of the Seekers. It had gone on like this for months now, ever since word had escaped of Grimhold’s existence. So far, though, they hadn’t found the Seekers Princess Salina had warned them about.

‘We should go on,’ said the one from Grimhold. He was an albino named Ghost, and like many from his fabled home his abilities were remarkable. Because of this he had remained in Jador with Gilwyn, helping to protect the desert city. The same was true for Lukien. In a prior life he had been the Bronze Knight, and there were those who called him that still. But in Jador he had taken on a Jadori name – Shalafein, the Great Protector. Around his neck he wore the Eye of God. He could feel it now beneath his robes, pulsing lightly, its silent spirit keeping him alive. He belonged to Grimhold now, despite a life spent in Liiria. And because of the amulet, he was as much an Inhuman as Ghost.

‘Maybe it’s too late,’ remarked Gilwyn. ‘Maybe the raiders have gotten them.’

It was the same dark conclusion they’d all come to, though Lukien hated to admit it. Riding out from Jador in a panicked rush was no way to save people, and they had already lost countless Seekers to the raiders. They were a vicious lot, Aztar’s men, willing to murder anyone they robbed, even children. It was why Lukien always tried so hard to save them, and why he always grieved when he couldn’t.

In the last few months the Seekers had come across the desert in waves. It had been as Minikin had predicted. Once word reached the outside world of Grimhold’s existence, it had been impossible to stop them. No matter their ailments, the Seekers willingly braved the desert, seeking the magical place of healing. The blind and insane, the crippled, the deaf; they had all left their homes behind to find the
place some of them called ‘Mount Believer’. It broke Lukien’s heart to see them. Like he and Gilwyn and their comrade Baron Glass, the Seekers were northerners, mostly. Some were even Liirians. But none had known the truth of Grimhold, or that Minikin, the mistress of that place, had not enough magic to save them. They knew only of the legend, and their desperate hope drove them onward.

‘We go on,’ said Lukien. ‘We must find them.’

Gilwyn didn’t argue. ‘We should separate,’ he suggested. ‘We can cover more area that way.’

‘And if we run into raiders?’ The smirk behind Ghost’s gaka was almost audible. ‘What then?’

‘We have to find the Seekers,’ said Gilwyn. ‘If we don’t they’ll die.’

‘If they’re not dead already,’ countered Ghost. He was as frustrated as the rest of them, partly because there were so few Jadori kreel riders to help them. So many had died in the war against Liiria, both men and their mounts. That was a year ago, and still the Jadori had not been able to train enough of the slow-maturing beasts. But Ghost was no coward, Lukien knew; the albino had volunteered for this mission.