The Sword Of Angels (Gollancz S.F.) (38 page)

‘We brought him here, Lorn,’ said Garmin. ‘He came across the desert two days ago.’

‘My name is Jaton,’ said the man nervously. He crushed a cap in both his hands, his eyes darting between Lorn and White-Eye. ‘I’m from Nith, my lord. I brought my family across the desert to find Mount Believer.’

Both Lorn and White-Eye let out a little groan.

‘Garmin, why did you bring him here?’ Lorn asked. ‘We can’t do anything for them, you know that.’

‘No, you don’t understand,’ said Tarlan, coming to his brother’s rescue. He grew serious. ‘Lorn, remember when you told us about Aztar? How everyone thinks he is dead?’

Lorn felt his insides seize. ‘Yes . . .’

‘He’s not dead,’ said Harliz. ‘Not according to this fellow.’

‘Not dead?’ White-Eye exclaimed. Amazingly, her gaze found the stranger. ‘How do you know that?’

‘I was in Ganjor before crossing the desert. My family spent days there trying to find someone to take us across. We heard things about Aztar. He is alive, my lady. Everyone in Ganjor thinks so.’

‘That’s why we brought him here,’ said Garmin. ‘We met him just a few hours ago, in a shrana house. We started talking, and that’s when he told us about Aztar.’

‘How could Aztar be alive?’ White-Eye asked. ‘How could he have survived?’

‘They say he is burned, my lady,’ explained Jaton from Nith. ‘He has a camp, hidden somewhere in the desert.’

‘There are still men with him?’ Lorn asked.

Jaton nodded. ‘So they say. I heard at least two hundred have remained with him. My lord, I heard about his battle with you when I was in Ganjor. Before just a few weeks ago, the Ganjeese thought he was dead, too.’

‘Then how did they find out he’s alive?’ asked White-Eye.

‘Because he is in bed with them,’ Lorn grumbled. ‘That fat bastard Baralosus – he still has designs on Jador no doubt!’

‘I don’t think so, Lorn,’ said Tarlan. He looked urgingly at Jaton. ‘Tell them the rest.’

‘I’m unsure of the rest,’ Jaton explained, ‘but they say King Baralosus’ daughter is imprisoned.’

‘Salina?’ Lorn gasped. ‘Why?’

‘For helping you here in Jador, my lord. They say she was discovered in treachery, that she warned you about Prince Aztar. Mind you, I never heard of any of these people before going to Ganjor. I only wanted to come across the desert. But the whole city is talking about this, my lord.’

The awful news staggered Lorn. He had only met Salina once, but she had been a great help to him, and to all of Jador. He looked at White-Eye and saw dread on her face. The Kahana stood stoically by his side.

‘Gilwyn . . .’

Lorn considered the possibilities. Had Gilwyn been discovered, too?

‘What else did you hear?’ Lorn asked. ‘Tell us everything.’

‘Did you hear about a boy, a northerner with a clubbed foot and hand?’ asked White-Eye.

Jaton grimaced. ‘No, I don’t think so,’ he said, clutching his cap. ‘Just about the princess.’

‘But how did Baralosus discover her?’ Lorn asked. He felt panicked suddenly. ‘Come now, remember everything you heard.’

‘That’s all of it, my lord, I swear,’ insisted Jaton. ‘King Baralosus found out his daughter was helping you. I don’t know how he discovered her treachery. Maybe no one knows. I didn’t ask.’

‘And you never heard the name Gilwyn Toms? That doesn’t sound familiar to you?’

‘No,’ said Jaton anxiously. ‘No, I’m sorry.’

‘We thought you should hear all of this quickly, Lorn,’ said Tarlan. ‘That’s why we brought him here tonight. We’ve been waiting for you for hours.’

‘You did the right thing, Tarlan,’ sighed Lorn. ‘Thank you. Jaton, I want you to stay here, at least for the night. I want you to think very hard, and to remember anything else that you can. Amarl, will you take these men inside? Give them food and a place to sleep.’

Amarl agreed, looking unhappy. But before he could lead the northerners inside Jaton stepped forward to confront White-Eye.

‘Kahana, my family has travelled a long way . . .’

‘No.’ Lorn put up his hand. ‘Don’t ask it, Jaton.’

Jaton looked at him, heart-broken. ‘But my wife is very ill. If—’

‘Stop. I know the story, Jaton. I brought my own daughter here thinking the same thing as you, but there’s no magic here to heal your wife. Now, just go inside and rest.’

Jaton began stuttering, but Amarl’s broad hand turned him away from the Kahana. The warrior led Jaton into the palace, bidding Tarlan and his brothers to follow. The stooped trio glanced at Lorn.

‘It’s all right,’ Lorn assured them. ‘He’ll take care of you. I’ll be in soon to talk with you.’

When they were gone, White-Eye ordered the other guards out of the courtyard, leaving herself alone with Lorn. The two said nothing for a long moment, contemplating all they had heard. Finally, White-Eye asked the pertinent question.

‘What do we do?’

Lorn’s simmering anger threatened to overwhelm him. ‘That snake Baralosus – he plots against Jador, I swear. I told you, Kahana – your city is under threat.’

‘I should tell Minikin,’ said White-Eye.

‘Minikin is too weak to help us,’ said Lorn. ‘You said so yourself.’

‘She needs to know about this.’

‘Indeed. And we will tell her. But what about you? You’re the Kahana. You must prepare the city for whatever is to come.’

The order made White-Eye shudder. ‘I wish Gilwyn were here.’ She turned toward Lorn. ‘Do you think he is all right?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Lorn dismally. ‘Maybe he got out of Ganjor. Jaton didn’t say anything about him.’

‘That one? He is a stranger. He doesn’t seem to know anything.’

‘I know,’ Lorn growled, ‘but what are we to do? We’re weak. If Gilwyn has been captured . . .’

‘Then we must help him!’

‘No.’

White-Eye frowned at him. ‘No?’

‘This is a night of important lessons for you, Kahan. Now here is another for you – if Gilwyn has been captured, then he knew the risks. Your duty is to Jador now.’ Lorn fixed her in his stare. ‘You see? You see how right I was? A ruler may never rest.’

White-Eye put her hand out for Lorn. He took it, steadying her. To his surprise, he saw steel in her expression.

‘We do not know if Jaton is correct,’ she said. ‘We are . . . blind.’

‘Correct. Go on.’

White-Eye thought hard. ‘If Aztar is alive, we do not know his intentions.’

‘His intentions are what they’ve always been,’ said Lorn. ‘To harm us.’

‘But we cannot attack him.’

‘No,’ Lorn agreed. ‘We cannot.’

‘So we shall wait,’ White-Eye decided. ‘We will make ourselves strong again.’ Leaning against Lorn, she let the old king guide her into the palace. ‘And you will make me strong, too. And I will learn from you.’

Mirage picked her way through the narrow lane, marvelling at the diminutive, pastel-coloured homes. Sunlight streamed in between the closely spaced buildings, brightening the avenue, while street vendors sold treats and admired the pretty lady who had come to visit. Overhead, the sky glowed a perfect blue. Birds walked the wooden gutters, warbling their morning songs. Along the lane children kicked stones as they played beneath the shade of shingled roofs, their mothers and fathers busy with work. The doors to the tiny homes sported plaques with Reecian names, all of them small and jammed together in the winding avenue. Enchanted by the storybook setting, Mirage wandered unafraid past the homes and the men and women tending them. She had been told by Laurella that it was called the Rainbow Lane, a source of pride among the people of Hes. With its tiny, colourful homes and charming iron lamp posts, it gave the city its name – Hes the Serene.

Mirage walked alone through the Rainbow Lane. She had been in the castle for almost a week, and though Raxor had given her complete freedom – provided she stayed within the complex walls – she had not yet ventured outside.

Until today.

Today, she had no chaperone and no curfew of any kind. She had awoken early to one of Laurella’s fine breakfasts, and the bright rising sun through her chamber windows told her that today she should free herself of the castle and explore the city that Raxor so adored. Her decision to finally venture outside had pleased Laurella, for the old maid had urged her for days to explore the city, highly recommending a walk down the Rainbow Lane. It was where Laurella had been born, the old woman had explained, and where she still had cousins who were cobblers. Mirage noticed a man with tacks in his mouth, cursing under his breath as he worked outside, mending shoes. She passed the man with a smile, wondering if he were Laurella’s kin. The smile made the grizzled man’s eyebrows shoot up in pleasure. He stopped his hammering just long enough to return the pretty girl’s grin.

The castle complex was not what Mirage had expected. In all her time with Lukien, who had spent years battling Raxor and the Reecians, the knight had never once commented on the city’s splendour. Hes had charmed Mirage at once, and the vast complex of Castle Hes was like a great and fabulous maze to explore, with alluring homes for the armies of servants and countless courtyards surrounded by manicured gardens. The tower of a cathedral rose up in the distance, its copper roof showering sunlight across the pastel homes. Nearby, a belvedere with marble columns stood like an ancient titan, its grounds criss-crossed with perfectly angled sidewalks. Mirage stopped to admire the structure, noticing a fountain gurgling in its yard. She left the narrow lane and moved toward the belvedere, staring up at the magnificent structure and counting its many arches. There were pines around the fountain, dwarfs of their giant siblings, and lovers sitting on the grass, listening to the fountains ringing music. Mirage went to the fountain and dipped her hand into the cool water. She watched in awe as spouts of water jetted up to strike the bowls of brass, each one singing a different note. Here she was away from the crowds, invited by the fountain and flower beds to relax and think.

Choosing a patch of comfortable grass, Mirage laid herself down in the sunlight. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she closed her eyes and let the warmth caress her face. The last week had passed in a blur, and now she took the time to catch her breath. From Asher’s ghastly prison, she had been delivered into the hands of a demented, kindly king, who could not do enough to please her but could not bring himself to free her. Mirage had seen very little of Raxor since their first meeting. He had come to her twice since then, only to see to her needs, and he had not touched her the way she had feared or ordered her to his bed. That surprised Mirage. She was his woman now. Yet she still didn’t know what that meant.

Kirsil, what am I doing? she asked silently. I should run from him.

Her unseen Akari blossomed in her mind. Like her host, Kirsil was calm now, much better than she had been during those days in Asher’s prison. Kirsil’s voice appeared like a brook through her mind, gently lapping at the shores of her thoughts.

If you go past the wall, he will find you
, Kirsil warned.

How do we know that? He trusts me, Kirsil. He is so damned faithful.

He loves you
, the spirit tittered.

Mirage frowned.
It’s not funny
.
We are prisoners
.

Raxor says otherwise. In time he will trust you too much, and then you can simply leave him.

She wasn’t sure why, but the prospect of leaving Raxor troubled Mirage. In his day, Raxor had been a brutal war hero, and Mirage had not forgotten the things Lukien had said about him. In battle he had been
a beast, mercilessly taking heads with his axe, but he had also been a fair man, Mirage remembered, and now she could see that in him, struggling.

He means me no harm
, said Mirage. She opened her eyes and looked across the lanes toward the castle tower where he and his family resided. It was her home now, too. ‘He’s just old and lonely,’ she whispered.

Kirsil’s tremor of displeasure told Mirage the spirit did not agree.
No more joking, now. You were right – you should leave. But be smart about it. Wait until you are sure
.

‘Yes,’ Mirage agreed. ‘When I’m sure . . .’