by John Marco
‘She is stronger that you think. The secret of the sword is very dear to us. I have to confess that I was afraid for her. Not that I thought she would just tell you what you wanted to know. But you are much bigger than she is, and you did spent a lot of time alone with her.’
‘What are you saying?’
Karoshin sighed as though it were obvious. ‘You could have hurt her to get what you wanted, but you did not because you are not that kind of man. I know that now.’
‘Thank you for that, Karoshin,’ said Lukien. ‘But it’s not important now. I’ve failed. I failed Jahan and all my friends. If the sword is here, I’m never going to find it.’
‘So you’re leaving?’
‘I don’t see that I have much of a choice! All of this has been a waste. And my friends still need me. I have to go.’
‘And forget your promise to Lahkali? Maybe you did not want any of this, Lukien, but it is yours now. It is your responsibility to help Lahkali because that is what you promised her you would do.’
‘I know, but it’s not that way anymore. I fought a rass now. I know what it’s like. Lahkali doesn’t have a chance.’
The old priest’s expression darkened. ‘Don’t ever tell her that. Not ever. She must believe in herself. Even Niharn knows that now. He has taken over her training because you have abandoned her.’
‘Karoshin—’
‘She’s going to fight the Great Rass, Lukien. She’s going to do it soon, and she needs your help.’
‘But she doesn’t have a chance,’ said Lukien angrily. ‘If she goes she’ll be killed.’
‘And if she doesn’t go then everything else will be killed.’ Karoshin bit down hard on his pipe. ‘So she’s going.’
‘And I’m going too,’ Lukien grumbled. ‘I’m going home. You wasted your time bringing me here, Karoshin. Yes, the clouds were pretty. Thanks. But it doesn’t change anything. No one can train Lahkali to kill the rass. Niharn was right the first time.’
It took a lot to ruffle Karoshin’s feathers, but this time Lukien had done it. The serpent tattoo on his neck pulsed venomously. A storm brewed on his usually docile face. Lukien braced himself for an argument. Karoshin pulled the pipe from his mouth, ready to speak, but then said nothing. He took a breath to ease himself.
‘I brought you here because I thought seeing the clouds would change your mind,’ he said. ‘I thought once you knew that Sercin had come . . .’ He shrugged. ‘But you are right. This is our problem. We should deal with it ourselves. An outsider should not be our saviour.’
More than anything the priest had said, that last bit hurt. But Karoshin gave Lukien no chance to reply. He rose and walked away to finish his pipe alone. Now the solitary fire sputtered, making Lukien stare into it. He had not wanted to hurt the old man, but his logic seemed perfect to him. He grieved for Lahkali, because she would surely die fighting the Great Rass. Karoshin was right about one thing – Lahkali was strong.
Lukien reached beneath his shirt and felt the Eye of God. Calling upon its magic had been the only way to save himself against the rass. The arrogant spirit inside the amulet still kept him alive for a reason Lukien could never quite fathom, allowing him to speak to Lahkali’s people without even knowing their tongue. Lukien took the Eye from his chest and examined it. It was a remarkable thing, but he hated it. He had already lived far too long.
At the other side of the camp, Karoshin quietly smoked his pipe.
44
Jazana Carr returned to Koth three days earlier than expected. Her trip to the border was successful, mostly, but the bad news she had got from her loyalists soured the whole ride home. To Jazana, home now was Koth, and not the badlands of Norvor or her fortress at Hanging Man. Though she longed to return there, her place these days was with Thorin, and it was her love for the Black Baron that drew her back to him against the pleas of her dukes.
Jazana rode in silence, choosing a horse of her own for the long ride rather than a gaudy litter. Rodrik Varl rode beside her, in command of the hundred or so soldiers who had escorted them to the border. Sensing her poor mood, Rodrik remained as quiet as Jazana, allowing her time to think and collect herself before reaching Lionkeep. His face broke with sweat in the afternoon sun. The avenues around the royal residence filled with people as the news spread of the Diamond Queen’s return. Jazana fixed a practiced smile on her face, waving to the folks who had come out to greet her. Mostly they were soldiers like Rodrik, but also a sprinkling of curious Liirians as well, who very rarely saw the woman who had conquered their nation and brought the frightening Baron Glass to the throne. Careful to seem approachable, Jazana grinned and waved her way along the avenue, graciously accepting the few flowers or baubles the bravest townsfolk offered her. Up ahead, she saw Lionkeep waiting and secretly groaned at the thought of a soft bed. She had been in Andola for only two days, but the ride there and back had taken more than a week, and her whole body ached with the effort of the trip.
Thorin had not wanted her to go to Andola, but he had not forbidden it either, and Jazana had been anxious to meet with her dukes, that handpicked lot of loyalists she had put in charge of the major Norvan provinces. At her request they had come from miles for the meeting, all with the same bad news, and all begging her to return to Norvor at once. Jazana had done her best to pacify them. In the grand castle of the vanquished Baron Ravel, she told her dukes and counts that Thorin was still consolidating his hold over Liiria, and that he still had plans to deal with Elgan and take back Carlion, the Norvan capital. Whether or not they believed her, Jazana simply couldn’t say. They were loyal, for now, and Elgan had yet to move against any of the northern cities. That alone gave Jazana solace. She blew a kiss to a teenaged boy, waving at her from the street, trying to put the worst of the trip from her mind.
‘Jazana, we should stop here,’ Rodrik Varl suggested. The dust from the road had made his brogue particularly thick. ‘Don’t hide from the Liirians. Let them see you.’
‘They see me well enough.’
Varl shook his head. ‘They love you, see? And they don’t love Thorin.’
‘Hush,’ Jazana snapped at him. ‘Watch what you’re saying.’
‘These people need you, that’s what I’m saying. Look how glad they are to see you! Because they’re afraid and they know you’re not like him.’
It was true, but Jazana chose not to acknowledge the point. As word continued to spread of her arrival, more and more Liirians began to fill the avenue, relieved to see the sane half of the throne back safely. The pressing crowd made her more determined than ever to reach Lionkeep, however, and as they rode Jazana increased her pace, urging her horse onward. Her exhausted mercenaries kept up without grumbling, and by the time they reached the gates of Lionkeep the crowds had fallen away. Lionkeep itself was a rolling tor of green lawn and flowers, an ancient keep kept away from the busy streets of the rest of the city. As the gates opened for the returning queen, quietude swept in after her. Lionkeep lay at peace before her, its courtyard moving with efficient servants and lazily trotting horses. Varl called the company to a halt, letting them dismount and dismissing them. Behind her, Jazana listened as the gate of Lionkeep close shut behind her.
‘Thank the heavens,’ she sighed.
As was customary, a groom came forward to help her down. Jazana took the man’s hand and daintily slipped from her saddle. Varl tossed himself down beside her, shouting orders to his weary men. Jazana ignored him, eagerly scanning the courtyard for Thorin. She had sent word to her lover of her early arrival. Though she didn’t really expect to see him, she nevertheless felt crestfallen at his absence. The groom, a middle-aged Rolgan named Fellors, noted her disappointment. She had installed Fellors herself in his position, wanting people she could trust around her and Thorin. He had been with her in Hanging Man for years, and could read her moods instantly.
‘So? Where is he?’ Jazana asked. ‘No, let me guess. He’s at the library. Again.’
Fellors coloured as
he took hold of her horse. ‘No, my lady.’
‘No?’
The groom grew circumspect. ‘Uhm, no.’
Jazana stepped into his face. ‘What are you hiding Fellors? Tell me or I’ll cut your tongue out.’
Fellors barely flinched. He had been with Jazana long enough to know her moods, and over the years Jazana had threatened him with far worse. Still, he remained aloof, as if searching for just the right way to give her bad news.
‘Baron Glass is with someone, my lady,’ he said. ‘He’s gone riding.’
‘Riding? With who?’
‘A woman, my lady.’ Fellors looked at Varl, who had overheard their conversation and now stepped beside his queen. ‘She arrived here a few days ago. An old acquaintance of the baron. From Jador.’
Jazana felt her heart trip. Speechless, she could barely even breathe. She turned away from Fellors, hiding her face, which she knew must look pained.
‘What woman from Jador?’ asked Rodrik. ‘What’s her name?’
‘Mirage is her name,’ said Fellors. ‘I don’t know much else about her.’ He paused, and Jazana could feel his eyes on her. ‘I’m sorry, my lady.’
Jazana pulled down on her riding shirt and straightened herself. ‘When did they leave?’
‘An hour ago. A little more, maybe. The baron didn’t say when he’d be back.’
‘No,’ Jazana growled. ‘Of course not.’
Her mind raced with possibilities, all of them ugly. Thorin never spoke of his time in Jador, nor of any woman he had met there, but Jazana had a fine imagination, and now it ran away with her. The old jealousy wriggled insider her, making her burn. And the only thing she could think of was how many times Thorin had ignored her of late. Yet somehow, he had managed to find time for this Jadori slut.
‘Jazana? Do you know this woman Mirage?’ asked Rodrik.
Jazana rumbled, ‘No. But I’m going to wait right here until I see them both.’
The first thing Thorin saw when he rode into the courtyard was Jazana. Stone-faced, she sat on a wooden chair within the shade of Rodrik Varl, who stood coolly and loyally beside his queen. It had been an excellent afternoon, and Thorin was in a fine frame of mind, but the daggers that shot from the Diamond Queen’s eyes instantly killed Thorin’s joy. Next to him, Mirage was riding and laughing, happy from the long trip they had made through the orchards. She had been with Thorin for three days now, lifting him from the darkness of despair with only her patience and her pretty face. Her presence had worked magic on Thorin, just like a charm, just like he knew it would. No one in Koth or anywhere else outside of Jador knew what it was like to have an Akari, and Mirage had spent long hours talking with Thorin, listening to him, caring for him in ways that Jazana never could. Now, though, the bliss of the last few days fell on Thorin like a rainstorm. He drew back his horse, bringing it to a stop and telling Mirage to do the same. As his mount whinnied backward, Jazana stood and crossed her arms over her chest.
Mirage stopped talking, seeing Jazana at once. Her smile disappeared. ‘Who’s that? Jazana Carr?’
Thorin nodded. ‘She wasn’t supposed to be back yet. Damn.’
Mirage sat up with a grimace. ‘Should I go?’
‘No.’ Thorin started trotting forward again. ‘She’s not my keeper. Come and meet her.’
‘I don’t think so . . .’
‘Come on,’ Thorin ordered, and with all the innocence he could muster rode up to where Jazana was standing and looked down on her. ‘Jazana? You’re back already?’
‘I’m sorry, Thorin,’ purred Jazana icily. ‘I didn’t mean to interrupt your fun.’ Her gaze fell on Mirage, and for a moment she looked stunned. ‘And look at this beauty!’
‘This is Mirage,’ said Thorin. Sure he had nothing to hide, he bade Mirage forward. Mirage cautiously trotted her horse into view.
‘My lady, I’m pleased to meet you,’ she said, her voice shaky. ‘It is an honour.’
‘Is it? How wonderful for you.’
‘Jazana . . .’
‘Stop talking, Thorin,’ Jazana hissed. ‘I’m tired of your lies and all your ridiculous promises. I’m glad you weren’t here to greet me after my long ride from Andola. It gave me time to think.’ Jazana smiled up at Mirage. ‘Mirage. What a pretty name! And such a lovely young thing. Have you been enjoying yourself? Thorin is quite a lover, isn’t he?’
Mirage blanched and reared back. Thorin rushed to her defense.
‘Keep your tongue, woman,’ he growled. ‘Mirage is no whore. She came to help me. She’s from Jador.’
‘Oh, a friend,’ sighed Jazana. ‘How sweet. Tell me, Mirage, how will you help him? He likes his back rubbed. You can start with that before you bed him.’
‘That’s enough!’ Thorin got down from his horse, towering over Jazana and eyeing Varl sharply. ‘You, take her inside,’ he ordered. ‘Mirage, go with Varl.’
Mirage hesitated. ‘Thorin? Are you sure?’
‘He won’t do anything to you,’ Thorin promised. He turned to her, smiling, and helped her down from her horse. ‘Please, just go with him. Jazana and I must talk.’
Varl looked at Jazana. She nodded, releasing him. With only a passing glance at Thorin, Varl came forward and touched Mirage’s shoulder, leading her away. Thorin and Jazana both waited until they were alone before saying anything more. Thorin fought down his anger, flexing the fingers of his enchanted gauntlet. In his mind he could feel Kahldris’ displeasure. The Akari still distrusted Mirage, and had not approved at all of Thorin’s time with her. More importantly, he warned Thorin everyday about the danger of alienating Jazana Carr.
Calm her, Baron, whispered Kahldris. You still need her.
It was advice Thorin did not need. He knew he needed Jazana and her fortune. More importantly, he loved her, and that was something Kahldris could never understand. He studied Jazana’s face, hoping for an inch of comfort, but her icy fac¸ade remained, and the storm in her eyes didn’t fade.
‘Will you walk with me?’ he asked.
‘Why should I?’
‘Because I have asked it of you,’ said Thorin. He took her arm. ‘Please.’
Jazana relented, but brushed off his touch. ‘Go on, then.’
With a grunt of displeasure Thorin led the way, heading to a more secluded part of the courtyard, away from the curious servants and soldiers spying on them. He located a place near a stand of willow trees, properly shaded and invitingly secluded. Jazana followed him, her lips twisted in a pout. By the time they reached the willows she was eager to speak.
‘Tell me who she is, Thorin,’ she demanded. Again she folded her arms. ‘And please don’t tell me she’s a friend. Men don’t have friends that look the way she does.’
Thorin thought for a moment, unsure how to answer. He had never told Jazana much about his time in Jador, though she had already guessed at a lot of it. She knew there was magic in Jador and that his armour was part of that magic. Amazingly, she had accepted it.
‘She is a friend,’ said Thorin. ‘She’s from Jador, and that’s not something I can explain to you. She’s one of the people who understands the magic of my armour, the kind of strength I have.’
‘What’s she doing here?’ asked Jazana. ‘Why has she come to Koth?’
‘To see me. To help me.’ Thorin had trouble not looking away. ‘She knows about the Devil’s Armour. She thinks it is harming me, Jazana.’
For the first time Jazana’s ire lifted. ‘She’s right, Thorin.’ She looked around, and her voice dipped. ‘I’ve told you this already, a dozen times.’
‘And she’s wrong, just as you are wrong, Jazana. I’ve tried to tell her this but she won’t listen. She’s convinced, as you are.’ Thorin laughed. ‘So you see? She’s not your enemy, Jazana. You both are on the same side. The wrong side!’
Jazana didn’t laugh. ‘Look at you. You’re happier than I’ve seen you in months. Are you telling me it’s because you’re just talking with that pretty young thing?’
> ‘Yes! Jazana, you don’t understand. You don’t know what it means to have this magic, what it’s like to carry it around and live with it. But Mirage – she knows. I can’t tell you how or why, but she does. And when I talk to her . . .’ Thorin glanced away. ‘I feel better.’
Jazana looked pained by his confession. She, too, looked away. ‘You love her.’
‘No.’
‘You do. You make time for her, you go riding . . .’
‘To talk, Jazana, that’s all.’
‘Yet you shut me out every time I try to talk, Thorin.’ Jazana stepped away a few paces, distracted by the low boughs of the willow trees. ‘And now I come back and I have all this news to tell you, and I see you with that girl. And you’re listening to her! You’re riding with her, spending time with her . . .’ Jazana shook her head. ‘It’s wrong.’
Thorin frowned. ‘What’s wrong? That I should speak with a woman?’
‘You’ve ignored me, and everything I’ve wanted. It’s enough now, Thorin. I’m going.’
‘Going?’
‘Back to Norvor,’ said Jazana. ‘I’m needed there, and I’m not needed here.’
Kahldris shot through the clutter of Thorin’s mind. No!
‘No, Jazana,’ Thorin insisted. ‘You can’t go.’
‘I have to. I can’t wait any longer, Thorin. You’ve already broken your promise to me. I lied for you in Andola. I told all the dukes that you would soon ride to Carlion and deal with Elgan. That’s a lie.’
Thorin felt stung. ‘I can’t go to Norvor, Jazana. I’ve told you.’
‘Because you’re waiting for the boy to come,’ Jazana groaned. ‘I know. So wait for him, then. Wait with your pretty new harlot and be happy. I’m going.’
‘No,’ flared Thorin. He took Jazana’s arm forcefully. ‘I forbid it.’
‘I’m not your daughter!’ snarled Jazana, tearing free of him. ‘I’m the Queen of Norvor and I’m going home!’
‘And what about all of this?’ asked Thorin, sweeping his arm across Lionkeep. ‘Look at what we’ve built! You’re going to just abandon it?’