The Sword Of Angels (Gollancz S.F.) (107 page)

Though he was certainly older than most in Lionkeep, Thorin rarely slept these days. The armour gave him unnatural strength, along with the ability to go for days on end without slumber. Gilwyn waited patiently for exhaustion to overtake his friend, knowing Thorin needed to be asleep for what he planned to do. Finally, on a night when rain clouds overtook the glorious day, Thorin retired late to his bedchamber, leaving Gilwyn on the other end of an unfinished game board. Gilwyn watched as Thorin excused himself, then waited an hour more to be sure the baron was asleep. At nearly midnight, the entire castle fell silent, leaving Gilwyn free to explore the cellar where he knew the Devil’s Armour waited.

He had prepared himself for the encounter, yet now felt a pull of fear holding him back. Ruana, who had never cared at all for his plan, muttered to him in his brain, warning him. Gilwyn ignored her counsel; he had made up his mind. There was only one way to find out the things he needed to know, and that was from Kahldris himself. The catalogue had proved useless. So had the library and its awesome stock of books. Not even Ruana knew how to defeat Kahldris. If he had any weaknesses at all, only he knew what they were. But getting him to reveal them was the challenge.

Remember, don’t let him into your mind
, cautioned Ruana as Gilwyn made his way to the cellars beneath the keep.
And never forget, he can kill you. No, wait – you have forgotten that. You must have.

‘I have to do this, so hush,’ snapped Gilwyn nervously. He peaked around the corner, making sure no one saw him. As expected, the corridors of Lionkeep were empty, and the doors leading down to the cellars stood unguarded. Amazingly, Thorin had never thought to post a guard to protect the Devil’s Armour. He claimed the armour needed no protection. Besides that, everyone in the keep was terrified of the enchanted suit, and could only rest knowing it was buried safely away in the bowels of the castle. Thorin, realizing how uneasy the armour made his servants, gladly tucked it away from sight. As long as he wore the pieces of his missing arm, he had no real use for the rest of the armour, except in battle.

Gilwyn went to the doors, twisting the ancient latches and pulling the portals open. The rusty hinges flaked and screeched, alarming Gilwyn as
he hurried past them. He had brought a lantern with him, balanced expertly in his fused hand. As he closed the doors behind him, he saw the huge, curving staircase come darkly into view, spiraling down and disappearing in the murk. The light from the lantern bounced eerily off the stone walls, giving the descent a hellish quality. He moved carefully down the stairs, slowly working the boot of his clubbed foot so as not to slip. There was no hand rail for him to grip, just the wall that curved alongside the stairs. Gilwyn felt the coldness of it on his fingertips, a hundred years of grime and filth. His eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness, stretching out the time so that it seemed to take forever to reach the solid ground. Finally, as he stepped off the last riser, he looked around at the chamber, noticing dusty crates of wine piled high atop each other. Moving his lantern, he let the feeble beams of light crawl across the cellar, illuminating the tools and odd bits of metal that littered the walls. Across the floor he saw an archway leading into another chamber, and crossing through it he found more of the same. Gilwyn looked around despairingly, afraid he’d be lost forever in the endless catacombs, but as he shuffled further along he noticed one more chamber in the distance, this one glowing with peculiar light.

‘That’s it,’ he whispered, studying the dark radiance. The chamber dazzled him with its dancing light, a kind of black glow that might have been moonlight on a stormy night. He inched toward it, feeling Ruana’s trepidation.

I feel him, she warned. Protect yourself.

‘He can’t hurt me,’ Gilwyn reminded her. ‘He won’t.’

At least that was his theory. But now that the time had come to test it, his feet moved leadenly toward the glowing chamber. When at last he reached the archway, he peered inside to see the source of the marvelous light, frightened into stillness by the image of the armour. It hung upon a tiny dais, suspended there in perfect form without a hint of ropes or wires to hold it erect. The horned helmet gazed at Gilwyn as if upon a living head, but there was no man inside it, just the essence of the great Akari. The left arm was gone, of course, but the right one rested easily at the figure’s side, the fingers of its gauntleted hand open. The magnificent metal shined like black liquid, throwing off its strange light in all directions. Gilwyn lowered his lantern to the ground, having no need of it in the presence of the armour. He studied the evil suit, enthralled by its pulsing life-force.

‘He’s inside it,’ he said, putting up his hand to feel the cold, almost imperceptible breeze coming from it. ‘It’s just like when he came to us in Roall.’

Gilwyn stepped closer to the armour, feeling dwarfed by its enormity. He had practiced what he would say, and for a week he had done his best
to anger the demon. Now it was time to draw him forth. Suddenly, all the fear that had accompanied him down the staircase gathered on his shoulders. His mouth went dry. Summoning his courage, he folded his arms over his chest.

‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ he said. ‘Why haven’t you come to me?’

The armour pulsed quietly atop its dais.

‘You’ve been watching me, I know. You’ve been listening. I’m surprised you haven’t tried to stop me yet.’

Still, Kahldris was silent. Gilwyn began to circle the dais as he spoke.

‘When you came to me in Roall you said you wanted something from me. But now you don’t, do you? I figured it out, Kahldris. It took me a while, but now I understand. The catalogue is useless to you now. Your brother is already on his way. That’s why Thorin hasn’t been pushing me to learn it anymore. It’s too late. You wanted to find your brother but Lukien found him first.’

Almost imperceptibly, the breeze from the armour grew. The metal glowed a little hotter.

‘Yes, you are listening, aren’t you?’ Gilwyn smiled mockingly. ‘Why don’t you come and face me, Kahldris? Are you afraid? I’ve never had someone be afraid of me before. To be honest it feels pretty good!’

Gilwyn, be careful
, advised Ruana.

But Gilwyn continued, ‘You know I’m getting to Thorin. I’m reaching him, Kahldris.’ He paused in front of the armour, staring up into the glowing eyes of the helmet. ‘That’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it? You’re afraid I’m going to win. That’s why you haven’t come after me, because you know Thorin wouldn’t allow it. You’re not in control of him after all!’

Again the armour seethed, the light bending as the metal flexed.

‘I’ve been telling everyone what a coward you are. They couldn’t believe it at first, but now they’re seeing that they don’t have to be afraid of you. You don’t control them anymore, either. They have you locked down here in this cellar like some rusty old tool. You might never see the light of day again!’

That, at last, was enough to make the demon snap. The fleshless armour exploded to life, jumping down from the dais. Shocked, Gilwyn turned toward the exit, but the armour beat him there, clanking across the floor to block his out. The death’s head helmet leered at him as the metal feet stalked forward. Gilwyn backed away, wild-eyed as he stared at the possessed thing. The one hand came up, making a shaking fist, and suddenly a horrid laugh ripped from the mouthpiece.

‘Do you want me,
boy
?’ it taunted. ‘Here I am!’

The hand went up to pull away the helmet, revealing the visage of the withered Kahldris. Just as he had been in Marn, his face was old and
leathery, topped with long white hair and fixed with two blazing eyes that pinned Gilwyn in place. Kahldris opened his mouth to hiss his curses, showing his rows of yellow teeth.

‘You are a damnable little troll, Gilwyn Toms. Why have you come here, you lying shit-eater?’

Gilwyn stayed his ground, managing to hold the demon’s gaze. ‘At last you have the stones to face me.’ He faked his own mocking laugh. ‘So now, what will you do to me?’

‘Shall I tear you into bits and eat you? Shall I spill your guts to the floor? There are a thousand things I could do to you.’

‘No, there’s nothing you can do,’ countered Gilwyn. ‘Because if you did, you’d lose your host. And you’re nothing without your host, Kahldris.’

Kahldris clamoured one stop closer. ‘You value yourself too highly, boy.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Gilwyn challenged. ‘I’ve figured you out, Kahldris.’

The demon’s face creased angrily. ‘Do not presume to frighten me.’

‘But I do! You’re scared of me,’ said Gilwyn, refusing to back away. ‘You should have killed me back on that farm in Roall, before Thorin ever had a chance to see me again. Now it’s too late. You’ve seen how he cares about me. If anything were to happen to me, he’d know who to blame.’

Kahldris cocked his head, his lips feigning a pout. ‘Oh, thank you, boy,’ he crooned, his voice sickly-sweet. ‘Your warning warms my heart. Have you not seen how the baron does my bidding? He is mine, body and soul.’

‘No, not anymore. He’s changing. And you can’t stand that, because then all your plans for revenge will be finished, and you’ll have to go back to living in a cage.’

Kahldris’ face began to boil. ‘Why are you here?’ he demanded.

‘To put you on notice, demon. I’m done being afraid of you. I’m going to keep telling everyone what you really are, and I’m going to show Thorin that he doesn’t need you. He’s remembering the man he used to be!’

‘Do that, and you will pay,’ spat Kahldris.

‘You can’t hurt me, Kahldris.’ Gilwyn relaxed, sure of his hunch. ‘If you do, you’ll lose everything.’

Kahldris smiled. ‘You are tasking me. But let’s not play this game. Tell me what you want. It is something, surely. Something you want me to reveal, perhaps?’

His guess unbalanced Gilwyn. Feigning disinterest, Gilwyn shrugged. ‘You’re not going to reveal anything you don’t want to,’ he said casually. He turned and rounded the dais again. ‘Anyway, I think you know you’re in trouble. Your brother is on his way, and you can’t stop him. You wanted me to help you find him, and now it’s too late.’

‘I will deal with my brother,’ Kahldris rumbled. ‘Happily.’

‘You’ll have to, because he’s coming. And until you do you won’t be able to have your revenge on the other Akari.’

‘But I have patience, Gilwyn Toms! Don’t you know? I have been entombed for eternity. I can wait.’ Kahldris put his gauntlet to his heartless chest. ‘And what will happen to your precious White-Eye then, do you think?’

Gilwyn saw his move and countered. ‘You may kill her, I know that. But it’s the same problem. Anything more you do to her will hurt me, and Thorin wouldn’t like that.’

Kahldris snorted. ‘You are very brave. And stupid. You may not be afraid of me, boy, but you should be.’

Gilwyn shook his head. ‘Nope, no longer. I’m here to tell you that the challenge is on, Kahldris. From now on I’m going to do my best to win back Thorin’s soul. I’m not leaving him. Who knows? By the time your brother Malator gets here, Thorin might already be rid of you.’

‘Stop talking about my brother, you wretched imp!’

‘Look at you,’ Gilwyn taunted. ‘You’re afraid of him, too. Why?’

‘You horrible little toad . . .’

‘Everyone says what a powerful summoner you were, what a great general! I don’t believe them. You can’t be all those things and still be so afraid of a single Akari!’

Before Gilwyn saw it, the metal hand shot out and struck him hard across the face. He fell backward, skidding along the floor, his head striking the dais. Dazed, he looked up into Kahldris’ maddened face, and knew he’d hit the right note. With a grimace of pain he touched his crushed lip.

‘Go on,’ he said, staggering to his feet. ‘Hit me again!’

This time, Kahldris backed away. ‘Do not speak of my brother.’

‘Why? What’s he going to do to you? Why can’t you beat him?’

Kahldris was about to erupt, then stopped himself. His eyes turned to shrewd little slivers. ‘Oh, you clever little boy.’ He clenched his fist, holding back his rage. ‘Now I see what you’ve been up to. The library hasn’t been much of a help to you either, has it?’

Gilwyn smirked. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘You’ve been trying to find a way to defeat me, but you haven’t yet. And you won’t, because there is no way. I am indestructible!’

‘I don’t believe you,’ said Gilwyn. ‘Your brother has the means.’

‘Then you’ll just have to wait for him,’ snarled the demon. ‘Because I won’t help you.’

Gilwyn knew his ploy was over. Angry, he stepped up to the Akari. ‘You’re still being challenged, Kahldris. I may not find a way to beat you, but I may not have to.’

‘Do not talk against me to the baron, boy,’ Kahldris warned. ‘I have other ways to harm you.’

Gilwyn began to walk past him. ‘I’m not listening to your threats anymore.’

Kahldris put out his arm to block him. ‘You should listen,’ he said with a grin. ‘I can turn you inside out with fear.’

For a moment Gilwyn paused, remembering Ruana’s warnings. He had seen what Kahldris had done to White-Eye, driving her madly into the desert, chasing a phantom that didn’t exist.

‘Good-bye, Kahldris,’ said Gilwyn calmly. ‘You can battle me for Thorin’s soul, but you’ll lose.’