The Sword Of Angels (Gollancz S.F.) (95 page)

White-Eye did as Lorn directed, keeping her course as her tiny army snaked toward their brethren, positioned in lines opposite the Ganjeese. As she approached she heard the kreels of her own men approaching, kicking up sand in their wake. They greeted their Kahana boldly.

‘What word?’ White-Eye asked them, speaking Jadori.

It was Narjj who spoke first, his voice clear in the darkness. ‘Baralosus awaits us,’ he reported. ‘He remains at the front of his army.’

Narjj, who had attained the rank of Hota among the kreel riders, had somehow survived the last two wars. That feat alone made him a natural leader. Narjj had taken command of the bulk of their forces, mostly because there was no one else more qualified to do so. Though young, White-Eye had confidence in him. More importantly, she had confidence in their kreels. Baralosus had probably never seen a kreel in battle.

With Narjj to guide them, White-Eye and Lorn and the others followed the Hota to the lines of kreel riders, positioned only a few hundred yards from where the Ganjeese waited. The enemy soldiers were remarkably quiet, unnerving White-Eye. She brought her kreel to a halt at Lorn’s order, then turned to face her many men. For a moment, it saddened White-Eye that she could not see them. In the days when she had been with her Akari, her natural blindness had been no hindrance at all. He would have revealed the ranks of riders to her, looking frightful in their gakas, their long, curled whips hanging like serpents at their sides. In totality, her little army numbered around one-thousand, with hundreds
of kreel riders among them. The chittering of the trained reptiles gave

White-Eye a terrible confidence.

‘Men of Jador,’ cried White-Eye. ‘Who calls you to battle on this eve?’

‘Kahana White-Eye!’ came the answer, high and strong. The kreels joined their masters’ call, letting out a fluttering hiss.

‘Look at the puppets who come to destroy us!’ said White-Eye. ‘See the big man who holds the strings? Twice now he has brought his dogs to devour us. Once they were defeated. Shall we defeat them again?’

The thousand men gave a unanimous reply. Like thunder their voices filled the desert air. White-Eye raised her hands. Expectantly, the army silenced.

‘Will you follow me?’ White-Eye asked them.

An explosive answer pushed White-Eye backward. She smiled triumphantly, steadying her kreel, then wheeling the beast around toward Lorn. ‘Come with me,’ she ordered. ‘It’s time.’

Lorn agreed instantly, then quickly told Narjj to join them. Narjj knew at once what to do, gathering up the riders who had come with White-Eye from the city and arranging them in a long line behind himself and Lorn. When he was done, White-Eye waited for the word.

‘We’re ready,’ said Lorn.

White-Eye nodded. She fixed her face with the most determined expression she could muster, then led the way across the empty sands toward Baralosus. Darkness followed her everywhere, yet she rode with confidence toward her enemies, secure in Lorn’s soft guidance. As her party crossed the distance, Lorn continued to instruct her.

‘Baralosus has ridden out apart from his army,’ he said softly. ‘He has a few men with him. They haven’t drawn their weapons.’

White-Eye nodded. ‘What else?’

‘He’s tired. He hasn’t slept. He’s looking right at us.’ Then, as if sensing her fears, Lorn added, ‘He looks weak.’

White-Eye thought for a moment, then dismissed his assessment. She didn’t want to kill Baralosus. It was merely a necessity. But cockiness was something she wouldn’t brook. She nodded, giving Lorn the signal to stop talking, and rode the rest of the way toward Baralosus. When she was just ahead of him, Lorn loudly cleared his throat, and White-Eye reined her kreel to a stop. Behind her, the men accompanying her did the same. Next to her, she heard Lorn’s reassuring breath. Unable to see her enemy, she nevertheless addressed him.

‘King Baralosus, you should not have come.’

Up on the tower of the white wall, Princess Salina waited with Minikin and the archers, holding her breath. It was the first time she had seen her father in months, and his appearance shocked her. From so far away, he
looked gaunt and bone-weary, barely able to remain erect on his horse. The army he had dragged with him across the desert seemed bedraggled from the journey, not at all like the proud warriors she was accustomed to back home. Salina gripped the stone rail of the tower until her fingers ached, but she was oblivious to the pain, squinting for the best view of the coming battle. Her father’s forces looked woefully outnumbered, especially against the blood-thirsty kreels. The reptiles were easily capable of ripping open the stomach of a drowa. Her father knew that.

So why had he come?

‘Look how out-manned he is,’ said Salina desperately. She turned to Minikin, who along with her mute bodyguard had spent the entire evening up in the tower. ‘Lady Minikin, I don’t understand.’

Minikin smiled cheerlessly. ‘Don’t you? Your father has come for you. A father’s love is like that.’

Salina stared at her father across the desert. ‘Love?’

Was it love to lock her away? Was it love to keep her a girl when she was really a woman, and to kill the man she loved? Minikin gave her a peculiar smile.

‘It is love to risk everything for someone else,’ she said.

She didn’t explain how she had read Salina’s thoughts. She didn’t have to. The catch in Salina’s throat kept her from speaking, but the lady’s words rattled in her mind. Confused, she looked back over the armies, hoping for a miracle.

‘I want her back,’ said King Baralosus. ‘I’ve come for her and her only. We can make peace, or we can make war, Kahana White-Eye. Which one we choose is up to you to decide.’

In the blackness of her blindness, White-Eye heard Baralosus’ voice like a drumbeat, steady and predictable. She sat like stone upon her kreel, unmoved by his words.

‘Your daughter is safe within the walls of Jador,’ she replied. ‘There she will remain. She has sought protection from you, King Baralosus, and I have granted it to her.’

‘You have been bedeviled, girl. You have listened to the likes of this one!’

‘I am a blind woman, sir,’ said White-Eye. ‘Tell me of who you speak.’

‘He’s pointing to me,’ growled Lorn from the darkness. ‘King Baralosus, you are outmanned and out armed, and if you have never seen a kreel in battle than I pity your foolishness. You daughter saved these people from your own designs. Do not expect them to give her up to you.’

‘I will not leave without her,’ said Baralosus. The ire in his tone rose dangerously. ‘Here, look at this woman. Listen to what she tells you.’

White-Eye heard another rider come forward. She cocked her head curiously. ‘Who do you show me?’

‘My name is Harani,’ said a voice suddenly. Unexpectedly, the voice was a woman’s. ‘Kahana White-Eye, I am a Voruni woman. King Baralosus has killed my master, Aztar. He has brought me here as witness to his deed.’

‘You speak the language of the continent,’ said White-Eye, surprised.

‘I am an educated woman. My father was a merchant and we spent time in Ganjor. Now I am the captive of this pitiful thing.’

‘She is not a captive,’ Baralosus corrected angrily. ‘She is only what she claimed – a witness. Aztar is dead, Kahana. My daughter has no reason now to remain here. Give her to me. I demand it.’

‘You may demand nothing from these people,’ hissed Lorn suddenly. ‘They know of all your treacheries.’

‘And I know of yours, Lorn! You are the Wicked One, the butcher of Norvor!’

Baralosus moved closer, but Lorn was there to stop him.

‘Keep your distance,’ ordered the Norvan.

Baralosus bristled, ‘Kahana White-Eye, you should know who you take counsel from. This man is an demon. His own people detested him.’

‘I know all I need to know,’ retorted White-Eye. ‘King Baralosus, you are wasting time.’

‘I have spared the lives of these women and children!’ protested the king. ‘I could have killed them all, but I did not. All that I want is my daughter back.’

His words were ranting, but also pleading. White-Eye felt her resolve start to crumble. Before she could respond, Lorn was speaking for her.

‘Your daughter is Jadori now,’ he said. ‘And you have doomed yourself.’

‘If you kill me,’ said Baralosus, ‘others will come. A proper army will avenge me, and you won’t be able to stand against it. Save us all this misery. Give me back my daughter!’

Trapped, White-Eye’s words failed her. Suddenly, battling this forlorn king seemed more like murder than any cause of glory. But she had made a promise, and she knew that Baralosus could not be trusted.

‘Why have you come here?’ railed White-Eye. ‘Why can you not simply stay across the desert? Why, King Baralosus? Tell me, please!’

King Baralosus replied wearily, ‘I cannot go back without her.’

‘And I cannot give her to you! Damn you!’

Spinning about, White-Eye rode back the way she’d come, ending the conversation. She heard the startled reaction of Baralosus behind her, and then Lorn’s surprised call.

‘White-Eye, what are you doing?’ he asked, galloping up beside her.

‘He brought this on himself,’ replied White-Eye angrily. ‘Vala help me, he has damned us.’

Back on the wall, Salina saw White-Eye riding away from her father. The Kahana’s face twisted in rage and sadness. Behind her, Salina’s father turned and called his men to attention. The ranks of the Ganjeese came quickly alive. Amidst the rows and rows of Jadori, the army of the Night Queen prepared for battle.

‘No,’ Salina gasped. ‘No, he’ll be killed!’

Minikin’s expression had lost all its usual mirth. Looking dour, she nodded. ‘He has decided.’

‘No!’ Salina grabbed hold of Minikin. ‘Mistress, you have to stop it.’

Trog tramped forward to defend his mistress. Minikin put up a hand to halt him. ‘I cannot stop it, child,’ she told Salina. ‘It has already begun.’

‘You can stop it, you can stop it with your magic! Please, lady, I beg you . . .’

‘What can I do?’ Minikin said desperately. ‘Look, they are ready for battle.’

Down on the battlefield, Salina saw White-Eye riding among her soldiers, waving her arms, rallying them for the fight. Her father’s forces settled down behind their drowas and raised their spears and scimitars. Baralosus himself had drawn a weapon, a shining, curved sword that gleamed in the moonlight.

‘I can’t let this happen,’ groaned Salina. She needed to escape, to get down to her father at once. ‘Mistress, let me go.’

‘Child?’

‘I have to stop them! Please, let me go to them.’

‘You’re not my prisoner,’ said Minikin. ‘But the battle had begun . . .’

‘I don’t care. I have to stop them.’ Salina looked around frantically. The stairs leading down the tower were unguarded, and she knew no one would stop her. ‘Mistress, I need a kreel. Can someone take me?’

Minikin grabbed her hand and hurried toward the stairs. ‘Trog, follow us.’

King Lorn galloped behind White-Eye as she rallied her men, her long-toothed kreel turning a fiery red. The young kahana raised her voice above the din, signaling Narjj and the others to make ready for attack. Lorn’s horse whinnied beneath him as he drew back hard on its reins, spinning the beast to face the Ganjeese. Baralosus had raised his scimitar, giving his own men the same battle cry. A thrill coursed through Lorn as he saw the drowamen prepare to charge. They had no chance at all, but they were certainly brave bastards.

He spurred his horse again, catching up to White-Eye. The kahana
heard his cry and turned her kreel toward his voice, her blind eyes searching for him. Narjj and his men had unhooked their whips from their sides and began swinging them overhead. Their eager kreels clawed restlessly at the sand.

‘White-Eye, I have to get you to cover,’ said Lorn, taking hold of her reins.

White-Eye furiously shook her head. ‘I have to stay!’

‘You can’t even see! You’ll be killed!’

‘I have to stay, Lorn!’ she insisted. ‘The others need me. You have to protect me.’

She had her own sword which she finally drew, holding it high so that her men saw it. Lorn let go of her kreel and cursed her courage.

‘Kahana, they’re coming,’ he told her, and as he spoke the first charging drowamen surged forward. Amazingly, Baralosus was among them, leading the run toward Jador. Lorn at last drew his weapon, prepared to defend White-Eye. Narjj threaded through the kreel riders, shouting orders at the other Hotas. In small teams the kreels broke ranks and bore down on the Ganjeese riders. Baralosus, smart enough not to break up his forces, kept them together like one, lethal hammer, determined to spearhead his enemies. They came quickly, weapons poised, thundering toward the screaming kreels. Lorn braced himself, sure that at least a few of them would straggle though the lines. ‘Do everything I tell you,’ he shouted to White-Eye. ‘And if I say run, you run.’

White-Eye stood her ground, facing the enemy, listening for the collision. A moment later, it reached them with a boom as the clashing armies met. Baralosus and his riders rammed their spears against the reptiles. The kreels leapt, claws barred and slashing like razors. The drowas charged, necks lowered, long legs tearing up the sand. A horde of Ganjeese fell instantly, pulled from their mounts by the insatiable kreels. But Baralosus, wrapped in a tight cocoon of fighting men, continued charging. Scimitar raised, he pointed toward White-Eye and Lorn, and his men ducked low to pursue. A band of Jadori saw the tactic, riding fast to White-Eye’s aide. King Lorn the Wicked put his mount between the kahana and their enemies and braced himself for battle.