The Sword Of Angels (Gollancz S.F.) (35 page)

Inside, the palace was no less dazzling, as the archway led into an immense hall of vaulted limestone, painted in a thousand hues of blue. Reliefs of vines and flowers stood out from the carved stone, tangling into a remarkable mosaic that writhed with life along the ceiling. The tiles echoed musically with their footfalls, delicately painted with complex patterns of gold and crimson. Light from small, bronze-fretted windows filled the hall, setting it ablaze with colour, while statues bathed in the sunlight, arching their naked bodies. Lukien took it all in, his heart racing with anticipation. He glanced triumphantly at Jahan, but the village man was too awestruck to notice.

‘Jahan,’ Lukien whispered. ‘How do you feel?’

Jahan’s reply was soft and shallow. ‘Lukien, I am blessed. That is how I feel.’

The hallway terminated into another vast archway. Without doors, the arch revealed an effusive chamber beyond, where guardians stood watch
and priests milled about in quiet conversation. As Karoshin approached the chamber, the priests turned and bowed. Karoshin raised his hand in a gesture of thanks. Lukien looked over his shoulder and saw the grand chamber for the first time, an enormous throne room with stout pillars and tiled mosaics and wooden chests along the walls. The chamber of the Red Eminence was filled with people, many of them priests like Karoshin, others dressed more formally, chatting or studying scrolls. And though he tried to locate the Red Eminence himself, Lukien could not see past the pillars.

‘You will wait here,’ Karoshin directed. He told his young acolytes to watch over the visitors, than disappeared into the throne room. The priests and others gathered by the arch watched them curiously, clearly surprised by their presence. Lukien smiled disarmingly.

‘Hello,’ he offered.

The men did not reply. Jahan took hold of Lukien’s sleeve.

‘Say nothing,’ he whispered. ‘They do not trust us.’

‘They don’t know us, Jahan.’

Jahan was like a child suddenly, giddy and frightened at the same time. ‘Tell me again, Lukien – what will you say to the Red Eminence?’

‘The truth. It got us this far.’

But Karoshin’s reaction had puzzled Lukien, and he wondered how the old man had known about the Akari. He should have asked him about the sword, he supposed, but soon he would have his audience with the Eminence. Soon, all his questions would be answered. He tried to ignore the onlookers as he waited, studying the palace and marvelling at its architecture. Jahan stood beside him, fidgeting under the glare of the white-robed priests.

After what felt like a very long time, Karoshin finally returned. Standing in the threshold of the arch, he held out his hand for Lukien, bidding him to come.

‘And my friend?’ Lukien asked.

‘And your friend,’ replied Karoshin gently. To his acolytes he said, ‘Remain out here, all of you.’

Bracing himself, Lukien followed Karoshin beneath the arch and into the splendid throne room, dazzled by what he saw. The pillars supporting the cavernous roof rose up like giants, painted in bright depictions of serpents and gods, spiraling toward a magnificent ceiling of sweeping constellations. Twinkling bits of glass had been set into the plaster, mimicking a thousand stars, while a gigantic sun of bronze and moon of pearly stone rose from opposite sides of the ceiling, battling for the heavens. Along the ornate floor tiles had been arranged in complex patterns, spiraling like red roses along a sandy beach. Instead of tapestries, the walls were hung with golden lanterns, each one lit with leaping flames.
The chamber was simply enormous, dwarfing all those within it, and Lukien still could not see a throne behind the pillars and priests milling about. Beside him, Jahan remained uncharacteristically quiet, as spellbound as Lukien by the fantastic chamber. His soft shoes made no sound as he padded across the ornate tiles.

At last they worked their way past the gathered men, toward an area of the throne room that abruptly thinned of people. There, across the floor, Lukien saw the throne itself, an enormous chair of gold that swallowed its occupant. At the edge of this quiet area Karoshin paused, dropping to his knees. The person on the throne turned her gaze toward him.

Lukien blinked in disbelief. On the golden throne sat a girl.

Until now, the priests and advisors in the chamber had talked without end. But silence suddenly gripped the throne room. On her magnificent throne, the girl looked at Lukien, perplexed. She wore a gown of silk with a pleated skirt, cinched around her waist with a belt of turquoise. Chains of gold and obsidian hung around her wrists and neck. Heavy makeup lined her dark eyes, giving her the air of age, but her underdeveloped body told Lukien she was less than fifteen. Short, shimmering hair had been cut straight along her ears, revealing dangling jewels and feathers. Her hands clasped the arms of her throne, which were cast into the likeness of serpents. Behind her, the back of her throne formed the hood of a rass, and she, in its folds, seemed lost.

‘Eminence, these are the ones I told you about,’ said Karoshin. Still on his knees, he kept his eyes to the floor as he spoke. ‘They have come many miles to see you.’

The girl on the throne appeared stunned, as if Lukien’s arrival was like a falling star crashing through her throne room. Her ruby-coloured lips parted in disbelief. She watched her visitors carefully, searching for words. Jahan quickly grabbed hold of Lukien’s arm.

‘Lukien, this can’t be,’ he whispered.

‘Easy,’ Lukien urged.

Karoshin turned from his knees to glare at them. ‘Kneel.’

Taking hold of Jahan, Lukien guided himself and his companion down to the ground, copying Karoshin exactly.

‘Karoshin, send the others away,’ said the girl. ‘Everyone.’

The old priest rose at once, turning toward the gallery of onlookers and ordering them to go. Without hesitation the advisors and holy men retreated, departing the chamber through the great arch until it echoed with unnerving silence. Lukien remained still, not daring to look up or offend the young ruler. When all the others had gone, even the girl’s guardians, Karoshin spoke again.

‘This one is Lukien,’ said Karoshin, pointing down at the knight. ‘It is he who bears the magic amulet.’

‘And the other?’ The girl assessed Jahan. ‘He looks like one of us.’

‘I am Simiheh,’ Jahan pronounced. ‘My village is far from here, but I am of the river lands, like you.’

Lukien chanced a glance at the girl. She did not look displeased.

‘You may rise,’ she told them.

Karoshin urged the pair to their feet, then stood between them and the girl. Now that all the others had gone, he seemed at greater ease. ‘Lahkali, he knows of the Akari. He’s not one of them, but the amulet he has was made by Akari.’

‘Show me,’ the girl told Lukien.

Without hesitation Lukien took the Eye of God from beneath his shirt, holding it out for her to see. ‘It is Akari, Eminence,’ he assured her. ‘They made it many years ago, ages before it came to me. It was given to me across the desert, by a people I came to live among.’

‘Give it to me,’ said the girl. ‘I wish to see it clearly.’

Lukien hesitated. ‘I cannot. The amulet’s power keeps me alive, Eminence. If I part with it, I will die.’

‘A powerful item,’ Karoshin remarked, though Lukien’s claim did not seem to startle him. ‘Go closer then.’

‘Yes, come closer,’ said the girl, leaning over her throne. ‘Let me look at it.’

Lukien did as the young ruler asked, stepping up to her throne and holding the amulet out for her. Her expression deepened as she inspected it, nodding without really understanding.

‘Karoshin, I cannot tell if it’s genuine,’ she said. ‘How can I know?’

‘I am not certain, Lahkali.’ The holy man stuck his face out, almost touching the amulet with his nose. ‘It’s old, certainly. And it gives him the power to speak our tongue, and for us to understand his own. That is remarkable, surely. And I did not tell him the word Akari – he knew it on his own.’

‘It is genuine, Eminence, I promise,’ said Lukien. ‘It’s true that I don’t know everything about the Akari. But I do know how you might have heard of them. Do you know of an Akari named Malator?’

The Red Eminence looked mindfully at her holy man. ‘Yes,’ she said after a moment. ‘We have heard of him.’

Lukien’s heart leapt at the news. ‘That is a great relief to me, Eminence. What can you tell me about him?’

‘No,’ said the girl. ‘What can you tell us of him?’

‘Me? I don’t understand?’

‘You have come for a reason. You have come seeking something, perhaps?’

‘Yes,’ said Lukien. ‘A sword. The Sword of Angels, it’s called. Do you know of it?’

Lahkali the Red Eminence grew circumspect. ‘What do you know of the Akari called Malator?’

‘Not very much, I’m sorry to say. I was told about him in a dead city across the desert. A spirit told me about him.’

‘A spirit?’ Karoshin perked up at this. ‘You can speak with spirits? Lahkali, do you hear?’

‘I hear,’ said Lahkali. There was a measure of excitement in her tone. ‘Go on, Lukien of Liiria. Tell us more.’

‘I don’t actually speak to spirits,’ Lukien explained. ‘Rather they have spoken to me. I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. This city I mentioned – it was once called Kaliatha. It was the city of the Akari before they all died. They were slaughtered by a race called the Jadori, many years ago. This spirit that spoke to me was an Akari. He told me that Malator came here to Tharlara, looking for help against the Jadori.’ Lukien looked hopefully at the girl. ‘Is that how you know about the Akari, Eminence? Because Malator came to your land?’

Again the girl looked to Karoshin for guidance. The old man nodded his approval.

‘You are right,’ said the girl. ‘Mostly it is a story to us, handed down through the years. And it is just as you have said. The Akari called Malator came to Torlis seeking our help in his war.’

‘But he never returned home to his people,’ said Lukien. ‘That’s what the spirit told me. Is that so?’

‘Karoshin?’

‘Tell him what you must, Lahkali,’ advised Karoshin. ‘I see no danger in it.’

‘Then I will tell you that Malator did not return to his people,’ said the girl. ‘He remained here in Torlis until he died.’

Jahan, who had so far stayed quiet, now came forward. ‘May I speak?’ he asked.

His interruption perturbed the girl. ‘You have a question?’

‘Yes, Eminence. Are you the one who turns the river to blood?’

The girl turned to her priest. ‘Karoshin . . .’

‘Your questions are an insult,’ hissed the holy man. ‘She is the lord of Torlis.’

‘Jahan meant no insult,’ said Lukien quickly, surprised at the offense the girl had taken. ‘His village is far from here. They’re simple people, and he came to help me.’

‘And to see you, Eminence,’ said Jahan. ‘Forgive me. But where I came from you are special to us.’

The ruler’s face twisted. ‘And you did not expect a girl to be on Torlis’ throne.’

Seeing the situation worsening, Lukien said, ‘Eminence, he is my
friend. Without him I would not have made it here. He simply wanted to see you and your city. It has overwhelmed him.’

‘I think he is overwhelmed because he thinks me a child,’ said the girl. ‘But you, Lukien – you have not explained yourself. You say you have come here for a sword.’

‘Yes, Eminence, the Sword of Angels. Do you know of it?’

‘We know of it.’ She looked expectantly at Lukien. ‘You’ve come to claim it?’

‘Yes, please, Eminence. It’s important that I find the sword and bring it back with me across the desert. I will offer anything I can for it.’

‘You need not offer anything,’ said the girl. ‘Just tell us where it is and it will be yours.’

‘But I don’t know where it is,’ said Lukien. ‘That’s why I’ve come, to ask your help in finding it.’

‘You don’t know . . . ?’ Once again Lahkali turned toward Karoshin. ‘Karoshin, this is not correct . . .’

Karoshin said, ‘Lukien, what do you know of the sword?’

‘Almost nothing,’ Lukien admitted. ‘I was told about it by another spirit, a woman. She said I would find it here in the Serpent Kingdom. In Tharlara.’

‘But you don’t know where? You don’t know it’s location?’

‘No.’ Lukien felt stupid suddenly, as if he’d missed something obvious. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t. But if you tell me . . .’

‘We cannot tell you,’ said the Red Eminence. ‘You are supposed to know where the sword is hidden.’

‘But I don’t, Eminence. That’s why I came to you.’

‘You do not understand,’ said Karoshin. ‘Only Lahkali knows where the sword of the Akari is hidden, and she may not reveal it to anyone.’

‘The story of the sword is sacred to us,’ said the Eminence. ‘It has been passed to me through all of the rulers of Torlis. Someday, the seeker of the sword is to come, and he is to know where it is hidden. You have surprised us by coming at all. I can barely believe it. You know of the Akari and of Malator, and how his race was at war with the Jadori. All of these things are part of the story, but they are not the secret part. The secret hiding place of the Akari sword is known only to me – and to he who seeks the sword.’