The Sword Of Angels (Gollancz S.F.) (60 page)

‘Nothing,’ said Shalra. Her little grin quickly defused her father’s ire.

‘Go and play with your sisters. Let your father talk to his guest.’

Shalra excused herself, saying a polite good-bye to Lukien before leaving the room. Niharn watched her go. A hint of fatherly pride glinted in his eyes. Tagna entered the room again, waiting for his master’s orders. Lukien heard other voices in the adjoining chambers, but no one entered to disturb them. When Niharn turned back to Lukien, a trace of smugness crossed his dark face.

‘Welcome, Lukien,’ he said. ‘You found your way back here.’

‘Yes.’ Lukien handed him the bottle of vaf. ‘This is for you.’

Impressed, Niharn’s eyebrows went up. ‘You brought this from Toors in the market near here, yes?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Toors is a thief but he finds the best vaf. Expensive. Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Niharn handed the bottle off to Tagna. The air charged with awkwardness. Niharn gestured to the chairs, all of them upholstered with colourful silk.

‘Sit,’ he offered. ‘I sometimes take guests out to the garden, but it’s too hot today.’

‘I remember,’ said Lukien, taking a seat. ‘Thank you.’

Niharn took a chair opposite him, leaning back and steepling his fingers. He smiled at Lukien. ‘Aliz Nok has made the katath for the Eminence. I have seen her practicing with it. How has that been for her, the katath?’

‘Very good, Master Niharn. You were right about Aliz Nok. The weapon he made for Lahkali is peerless.’

‘He’s the best,’ said Niharn. ‘And she is happy with it? It is the right weight for her?’

‘Yes,’ Lukien replied. When he had first come to Niharn for help, they had argued over the heft of the weapon. They had argued over just about everything. Still, Niharn had offered his advice.

‘I am glad,’ said Niharn. ‘The Eminence has been doing her best for you. I have seen the change in her. She speaks of you often, Lukien.’ The master laughed. ‘You are all she speaks about in court! It is good that she has someone like you to train her. A foreigner. I see now that her own people were not enough.’

‘No, I wouldn’t say that.’

‘You did say that.’

‘No, not precisely, Master Niharn . . .’

‘Let’s not argue.’ Niharn at last waved Tagna away, not so much
as offering Lukien a drink. ‘The Eminence is doing well. That’s all that matters.’ He looked expectantly at Lukien. ‘So . . . ?’

‘So, you want to know why I’ve come back.’

‘That would be nice, yes.’

‘Because I need your advice, Master Niharn.’

The admission made the warrior’s face light up. ‘Oh? Tell me, please.’

‘Enough, please. I know I offended you. I never meant to. You helped me find a man that could make a katath for Lahkali. Now I need your help again.’

Niharn grew serious. ‘I am listening.’

Staring at Niharn made Lukien feel small. He had rebuffed the master’s offers of help, replacing him as Lahkali’s teacher. For Niharn, the insult had been great. Still, Lukien found himself liking the smug man. Despite Niharn’s feelings of betrayal, he was loyal to Lahkali and willing to help.

‘There’s a problem with her training,’ Lukien began. ‘Not with her, mind you. She’s a fine student. If you had given her the chance you would have learned that, I think.’

‘Really? You say that even though you know what she is up against? You’re not even one of us, Lukien. You can’t even speak our tongue without that . . . thing around your neck.’

‘All right,’ said Lukien. He held up his hand. ‘All right. Let me start again.’

‘No, Lukien, let me start,’ said Niharn. ‘You tell me that you mean no offense to me, yet every time you open your mouth you offend me. I am a fencing master! Do you know what that means?’

Lukien grimaced. ‘I have to admit that I don’t.’

‘It means that I have trained the greatest fighters in Torlis. The best men in our armies have come to me to learn the katath. I know what a person can do. And I know what the Eminence cannot do. She cannot fight the Great Rass and win.’

‘So she’s wasting her time?’

‘And she’s wasting your time. You should go back to wherever you came from, Lukien. Ah, but you can’t, can you? Because you’re looking for the Sword of Angels.’ Niharn leaned forward curiously. ‘How is that going for you, Lukien?’

‘It’s not,’ Lukien admitted.

‘No? Have you not found out anything useful?’

‘You know I haven’t, Niharn.’

Niharn sat back again. ‘You think that if you help the Eminence defeat the Great Rass that she will tell you where the sword is hidden.’

Lukien shook his head. ‘You’re wrong.’

‘I don’t think I am. But I will tell you this, my friend, from my heart – Lahkali cannot beat the Great Rass, because she does not have the gift of her blood. No one can kill the rass if they can’t control it.’

It was the same tired argument Niharn – and everyone – had made before. Lukien could only ignore it.

‘I believe in her,’ he said. ‘So does Karoshin.’

‘Karoshin!’ Niharn laughed. ‘That old man believes because he must, because he loves Lahkali like a daughter and can’t see anything through his blindness. Karoshin does not train warriors, Lukien. He believes because he knows no better. But you are a warrior like me. Tell me the truth – do you truly believe? I see fear in your eyes.’

‘I’m afraid for her, yes,’ Lukien admitted. ‘But she has to try. You know she has to.’

Niharn looked circumspect. ‘Yes,’ he sighed. ‘Touching on this other matter of the sword – you have not been looking for it?’

The question made Lukien shift. ‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t know where to look, Niharn. I have thought and thought, but where to start? Only Lahkali knows where the sword is hidden.’

‘And she will never tell you.’ A trace of sympathy passed over Niharn’s face. ‘You have all this magic, Lukien. So much power. You are a mystery to all the people in court! But this sword is a curse to you. Why must you find it? Why not just go home?’

Lukien grinned. ‘You would like that, I know. But I have business here. I’ll go when I’m ready, Niharn.’

‘All right, then, business.’ Niharn opened his hands. ‘So? Why are you here?’

‘I need your help.’

‘Again?’ Niharn looked pleased. ‘Continue.’

‘Have you ever fought a rass?’

‘Why would I do that? The rass are—’

‘Revered. Yes, I know. But not where I come from. Where I come from men have fought the rass. Is there no one in Torlis who has ever fought one?’

Niharn shook his head. ‘No one.’

‘Then how do you train for it?’ Lukien asked, frustrated. ‘How can anyone fight a rass?’

‘You forget – it is the gift of the blood! No one fights the rass, not the way you have been thinking, Lukien. The Red Eminence controls the rass, brings it to him.’ Niharn smirked. ‘Or her. That is the only way.’

‘That can’t be the only way,’ said Lukien. ‘I can’t accept that. I need to learn. I need to find the way.’

Niharn looked intrigued. ‘How?’

‘I need transport,’ said Lukien. He lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘To Amchan.’

From the deck of the feruka, the forest of Amchan seemed primeval, an endless soup of tangled vines and steaming, dew-dropped trees. Shadowed by the mountains that towered like overlords in the distance, the arms of the river surrounded Amchan, holding it tightly and squeezing up the trees until they touched the grey sky. Lukien watched through his one good eye as a flock of dark birds winged over the forest, calling to the creatures far below. A million angry insects answered, filling the land with their buzzing.

It had taken Niharn’s feruka most of the morning to reach Amchan. The vessel skidded to a stop along its flat keel, resting in the mud of the riverbank. A dozen burly sailors waited on deck with long poles, ready to free the feruka from the mud once Lukien and Jahan had departed. The captain of the vessel, a long-trusted friend of Niharn, stood nearby, stone-faced, not rushing his passengers off his boat. He had said very little throughout the journey, staying close to Niharn and following the old Fencing Master’s orders. Niharn did his best to keep his friend informed, but it was a secret mission after all, and Lukien trusted that Niharn had mostly kept his mouth shut.

A sprinkle of rain touched Lukien’s nose. He studied the sky and the gathering clouds. He had not counted on rain, but it made no difference. He only had a day before Lahkali would miss him, perhaps two, but soon after that she would wonder why he and Jahan had left the palace. He had not spoken much to Lahkali since training her in the woods near the palace, and because she still resented him she had not sought him out, preferring to be by herself while she sorted out her troubles. Lukien thought about Lahkali as he gazed out over Amchan, and suddenly he was melancholy again. She had worked so hard to please him.

But realities were hard, and so were the challenges she faced. Like it or not, she was the Red Eminence, and that meant killing the Great Rass. Now, the time had come for her teacher to learn how – if possible – such a thing could be done.

Next to Lukien, Jahan stood silently watching the forbidding forest, his tail of hair swaying gently to the lapping waves. He had come willingly on the journey because Lukien had requested it, and because he knew far more about rass than Lukien could ever hope to know. Like Lukien, Jahan had come prepared for the trek, carrying a long, curved sword called a culther to cut through the vines and tree limbs. The blade dangled from Jahan’s belt, naked, while over his shoulder was slung a pack of food and supplies. His face was stoic while he awaited Lukien’s orders.

Around Lukien’s neck, the Eye of God gave its quiet assurance. Lukien fingered the amulet, wondering if at last its power might be challenged. He had been at the door of death before, but the amulet and its mighty spirit had snatched him back to life. In a way, he hated Amaraz for that.

‘Give us a day,’ said Lukien finally, speaking softly to Niharn. ‘If we are not back by the morning, leave without us.’

‘If you’re not back by the morning, you’ll be dead,’ said Niharn without a trace of humour. The old master took measure of Lukien. ‘And if that happens, I will explain to the Eminence what has become of you.’

‘Thank you,’ replied Lukien. He smiled faintly. ‘Thank you for what you’ve done for me, Niharn.’

Niharn shrugged. ‘I have helped to kill you. That is all.’

‘Then I’ll be out of your way at last,’ Lukien joked.

‘Yes.’

An unspoken understanding passed between them. Despite their differences, Niharn was an honest man, so loyal to Lahkali that he had risked his reputation to bring Lukien to Amchan. It would not go easily for him when he returned to Torlis but it was necessary, and Niharn seemed to understand that now.

‘How will you find a rass to slay, Lukien?’

Lukien gestured toward Jahan. ‘Him.’

Jahan nodded. ‘I will find a rass, do not worry.’

He spoke with such confidence that Niharn asked no more of him. Instead he reached out for the katath Lukien held in his hand, pinging the blade with his fingernail. The weapon was one of Niharn’s own, given to Lukien by the fencing master.

‘Take care of her and she won’t fail you,’ said Niharn. Then he added with a grin, ‘You should have let me give you some lessons.’

Lukien laughed to break the tension. He turned to Jahan. ‘Ready?’

‘I have been ready.’

Lukien turned to Niharn and said good-bye, then watched as the captain’s men dropped a gang plank from the deck into the muddy bank. The long wooden walkway hit the earth with an unpleasant sound. Anxious to leave the feruka, Jahan was the first down the plank, bouncing across the ungainly strip with all his gear unbalancing him. He moved like
a cat, though, and jumped down into the mud with a smile on his face. Lukien followed with equal success, using the long katath to balance himself. When both men were safely ashore, Lukien turned one more time to Niharn and the sailors.

‘We will see you by morning!’ he called to them confidently.

Then, with katath in hand, he trudged up the river bank toward the waiting unknown of Amchan. The wall of trees and rocky hills cast its dark shadow at his feet. Behind him, the noise of the river disappeared amidst the insistent chirping of birds and cries of hidden wildlife. Jahan took a deep breath, smiling at the sweetness of the air. Amchan was very unlike his village, yet he seemed at home. He spared no look for the men aboard the feruka, quickly stepping toward the trees.

‘This way, Lukien.’

Unsure where he was going, Lukien let Jahan guide him, and soon the two were engulfed in the trees, leaving behind the river and the safety of the barge. Jahan had his culther up at once, using its sharp edge to whack away the vines that hung thickly from the gnarled trees. A heavy wetness hung in the air, clinging instantly to their clothes and forming streams of perspiration on Lukien’s forehead. The stinging water blinded him as he followed Jahan through the forest, using the katath like a walking stick. The ground beneath him gave way easily, a soft, loamy soil that soundlessly absorbed his movements. Staring up into the knitted canopy of leaves, he saw a family of hairy, monkey-like creatures leap from limb to limb. As they moved a shower of raindrops fell from the trees.

‘Jahan?’ he asked softly. ‘What are we looking for?’

Jahan slowed a little, letting Lukien catch up. He looked back the way they had come with a look of satisfaction. ‘We can’t see or hear the others. Good.’

‘Good?’

‘Yes, Lukien. We need to get far from them if we are to find a rass. They will not come so close to so many people.’

‘Oh, I forgot,’ Lukien drawled. ‘They’re shy.’

‘You laugh? They have enough sense to be afraid of people. And they can smell very far with their tongues. When we get near them, we must make sure to stay downwind of them.’

‘How will we know when we’re close?’

‘I will know,’ said Jahan. ‘But first we must find the river again.’

‘The river? Jahan, we just left it.’

‘No, Lukien we must be well away from the others. I saw from the boat how the river bends. That’s where we will go. At night the rass will come to the river. There will be marks in the mud where they have been.’

Lukien nodded, understanding. ‘So if we find the marks we’ll find the rass.’

‘Just so. But first we need to find a place in the river far enough away from the boat so that the rass can’t smell it.’

‘How far is that?’

Jahan grinned. ‘We have all day, do we not?’

Just before dusk, Jahan found that special place by the river.

It had taken all of the day to reach it, a sandy beach where the forest receded and water birds came to stand in the stream and peck at fish with their long beaks. A ridge of hills stood in the distance, blocking the falling sun. Near the trees, long openings had been flattened among the tall grasses, a sign to Jahan that something big had passed this way before, many times. Lukien, exhausted from the day in the forest, rested at the edge of the beach as he watched the sun go down. They had reached the serene place hours ago, taking a meal and napping while they waited for night to arrive. Confident that this was a place of rass, Jahan had shown their tracks to Lukien, a collection of fat grooves carved into the soft earth by the giant bodies of the serpents. The sight of the tracks had given Lukien a chill.

As the darkness came, he and Jahan had spoken less and less, and their voices dimmed to whispers. Jahan ignored the sunset, staring instead in the other direction, toward the tree line and the glistening beach. His eyes shone with excitement. An expectant smile stretched across his lips. He had been an expert guide and Lukien was glad to have him, yet he could hardly understand his enthusiasm. His love for the serpents was uncanny.

‘I’m going to have to kill it, you know,’ Lukien whispered.

Broken from his spell, Jahan’s smile disappeared. ‘Yes.’

They were downwind of the beach, just as Jahan had planned. Hours ago they had buried their food and washed themselves in the river. It was hard for Lukien to imagine a rass being afraid of anything, but he had done everything that Jahan had asked of him. Keeping behind the rocks, Jahan raised his head a little to peer out toward the tree line.

‘Soon.’

‘It was darker than this when we saw them in your village,’ Lukien pointed out.

‘They will come,’ said Jahan.

Lukien grimaced. ‘How big do you think?’

‘Oh, big,’ Jahan assured him. He turned and looked at his companion. ‘That’s what you wanted, Lukien. That’s what you said.’

‘Yes. Still . . .’

‘You are afraid.’

‘I’d be stupid not to be.’

Jahan thought for a moment. ‘Your idea is good,’ he pronounced. ‘I have been thinking about it. There is no way for Lahkali to kill the Great
Rass if she does not know how. So you will learn how, and then teach her. Yes, it is a good idea.’

Lukien wondered about that now. ‘You don’t mind?’

‘No,’ Jahan sighed. ‘It is a shame, but it is for Lahkali. It is for the good of her village.’

Lukien smiled at his quaintness. ‘I have done my best for her, you know. You think I am hard on her, but—’

‘You are hard on her, Lukien. But I understand.’ Jahan spied the beach again. ‘She cares for you.’

‘Does she?’

‘It is plain to see, Lukien.’

‘Yes,’ said Lukien, nodding. ‘She has done everything I’ve asked. I can’t fail her.’

‘And that’s why you’re here?’

The question surprised Lukien. ‘Of course.’

‘The only reason?’

‘Jahan, I don’t take your meaning.’

Jahan did not turn his attention from the tree line. ‘No more talk. Watch now.’

Lukien stiffened. ‘You see something?’

‘It is the rass that we don’t see that I am afraid of, Lukien. Keep your eyes open for me.’

They both became still as the night settled over the beach. Darkness crept over the sand as the waves curled back. Lukien began readying himself. They would come to the water; Jahan had assured him of that. After that? Lukien considered his strategy. It would be best to confront the beast on the openness of the sand, he decided. His fingers tightened around his katath.

An hour passed and the moon appeared, bathing the sand in its silvery light. Overhead, the sky cleared of rain clouds, popping with stars. The buzzing of the insects intensified. Lukien felt sweat gathering on his chest. He scratched at it, pushing aside the Eye of God as he did so. The warmth of the amulet touched his fingers. Inside, he felt the ever-present Amaraz, mutely waiting with him for the rass to arrive.

Will you keep me safe?

Lukien’s question went unanswered, and for a moment he wondered if he really wanted to be kept safe at all. Niharn’s words to him came back suddenly, like an unpleasant itch. He hadn’t found the Sword of Angels yet, or even any clue to it. And he had promised Cassandra he would see her again. He looked at Jahan, at last realizing what his friend had meant.

‘What?’ asked Jahan, feeling Lukien’s eyes on him.

‘I’m not here to die, Jahan.’

A long silence ensued. Jahan sighed. ‘As you say.’

Lukien was about to speak again, but Jahan quickly held up his hand. The village man leaned forward, peering through the darkness. Excitement tensed his body.