by John Marco
“Well?” asked Breck. “Will she see us?”
“She will,” said Varl, “but not right away. You’re a very lucky pair—Jazana Carr wants you to sup with her tonight. I’m to find you some rooms. You can rest till then.”
“Sup with her?” asked Gilwyn. “But we only want to talk to her.”
“Ah, the warlady is a hostess without peer, boy. Don’t beg off a meal with her,” said Varl. Then he winked, adding, “It wouldn’t be wise, anyhow.”
“We appreciate it,” said Breck, “but we really just need a few moments of her time. There’s no need for her to go to any trouble.”
Rodrik Varl, who was probably about Breck’s age, gave a frightening smile. “Laddy, if Jazana Carr says sup with her, you sup.”
Breck and Gilwyn looked at each other. Teku’s tail coiled tightly around Gilwyn’s wrist. They all came to the same quick conclusion.
“You know, I was just telling the boy how hungry I am,” said Breck.
Rodrik Varl took Gilwyn and Breck to a room on the second level of the fortress. The room had a wide window covered with frilled curtains and two beds with wonderfully clean sheets. An unlit hearth graced the center of the chamber, complete with an ornate marble mantelpiece that had obviously been fitted into the spartan fortress after its construction. On the mantel were an assortment of feminine collectibles, little trinkets encrusted with gems and crystal and gold goblets overflowing with rubies. Breck’s eyes bulged at the sight of them; Rodrik Varl laughed at his reaction. Gilwyn went to the mantel and scooped his hand down into a bowl of uncut diamonds, letting the gems fall through his fingers in amazement.
“Are these real?” he asked.
“Aye, they’re real,” said Varl. He threw open the curtains, letting sunlight flood the room. The chamber was exceptionally well appointed, not at all like the quarters of a border outpost. Gilwyn’s eyes danced around the room, impressed with every detail. The rumors of Jazana Carr’s wealth were apparently well-founded, and she’d spared no expense in transforming Hanging Man to suit her exotic tastes.
Breck picked up the goblet of rubies from the mantel, staring at them in disbelief. “Fate above, there’s a fortune here.”
“And another fortune like it in every room,” said Varl. “But don’t think about sticking any in your pockets. If you do, you’ll be discovered. And if you’re discovered, you’ll be hanged.”
Breck returned the goblet to the mantel. “I don’t need Jazana Carr’s charity,” he said stiffly. “Still, I didn’t know she was so wealthy.”
“She wasn’t always,” said Rodrik Varl. “She started poor and worked for what she has, and she’s been gaining wealth and territory ever since. Ah, but I’ll let her tell you that herself! Jazana Carr likes to brag.”
Breck scoffed at their gilded surroundings. “Apparently she likes to show off, too.”
Varl merely smiled and headed for the door. “My lady usually eats at sundown,” he said. “Rest until then. I’ll come get you when it’s time.”
“Before you go,” said Breck, “tell me something. What you said down at the gate, about being close to Jazana Carr; are you her man? I mean, is that what she pays you for?”
Varl tossed his head back and laughed. “Me? No, stranger, I’m not that lucky. I look after Hanging Man for her, and that’s all. She’s got another to look after her bed. Like I told you, she’s got a thing for Liirians.”
The mercenary left without saying more. Breck turned to Gilwyn with a wicked grin.
“Hear that?” he asked. “She likes Liirians. Sleep lightly, boy. Maybe she likes younger men.”
“Please, don’t,” groaned Gilwyn. His foot was aching and he was in no mood for jokes, so he chose one of the beds and stretched out on the soft mattress. Teku nuzzled against his clubbed hand. “Close the curtains, will you?” he asked.
He heard Breck draw the fabric over the windows. The world darkened.
“Sleep now,” said Breck. “Maybe tonight we’ll get some answers.”
Exhausted, they both fell quickly to sleep.
When they finally awoke it was much later. Rodrik Varl had opened the door, loudly calling out for them to get up.
“It’s time, lads,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Gilwyn opened his groggy eyes. Teku was on his chest, staring up at the red-haired mercenary. Rodrik Varl reached out to touch her, but she hissed at him and pulled away.
“Nice pet,” said Varl sourly. “Come on. Jazana Carr is waiting for you.”
Gilwyn sat up and saw Breck shaking sleep from his head. “All right,” he told the mercenary. “Just give us a few minutes to clean up.”
“There’s a chamber pot under your bed,” said Varl as he left the room. “I’ll wait for you down the hall. Be quick.”
When he was gone, Breck and Gilwyn did their business, washed in the basin of clean water on the table between their beds, and generally straightened themselves for their meeting. Outside their chamber they found Rodrik Varl waiting for them, leaning against the stone wall and whistling merrily. His tune carried easily down the empty hallway.
“This way,” he said, waving them forward.
With Teku perched on Gilwyn’s shoulder, the pair followed Varl through the hall. Like the corridors of Lionkeep, this one was narrow and made of stone, with a floor of polished timber. But Jazana Carr had added more of her feminine flourishes to the hall, brightening it with flowers and flamboyant tapestries. As they descended a staircase, Gilwyn noticed columns of weapons along the wall, all polished to a grand luster and encrusted with jewels. In fact, there were jewels everywhere. The corridors were filled with nude statues, each with a sparkling gem in its navel. Dusty portraits hung on the walls, their frames rimmed with rubies. Diamond pendants swung from the servants that passed them in the hall, encircling their necks like expensive slave collars. Up ahead, the oak doors of a great banquet room were open wide. Above the doors, a giant emerald lay in the stone arch, staring at them like the eye of an immense dragon. The emerald alone seemed priceless to Gilwyn, but beyond the doors glimmered the hints of still more fortunes. A grand table had been set with shining silverware and golden candelabras. Both ends of the table disappeared into the unseen confines of the room. Gilwyn and Breck approached the chamber carefully, then heard music issuing over its threshold, the soft, pliant melody of a lute. Rodrik Varl paused beside the doors, waiting for them to catch up. When they did, he entered the room to announce them.
“My lady,” he said simply, “here they are.”
Varl stepped aside for the pair to enter, revealing the vastness of the chamber and the entire length of the table. A trio of huge round windows flooded the room with sunlight, their wavy stained glass reflecting colors off the walls and crystal stemware. Near the center window stood the lutist, smiling as he softly plied his instrument. Dressed in red velvet and lace, he had a woman’s beauty, but he was nothing compared to the figure that rose when Gilwyn and Breck entered the room.
Like every one of her polished jewels, Jazana Carr was exquisite. She rose to her feet with grace, smiling with teeth as dazzling as the diamonds she wore on every finger. Long hoops of gold dangled from her ears and fine chains of platinum hung from her neck, and around her forehead was a scarlet ribbon pulling back her auburn hair, pinned with a golden brooch. She had a breathtaking face, mature but flawless, with ruby-painted lips and eyes the color of the deep ocean. When she saw the two strangers she stretched out her arms in welcome, revealing silver bracelets beneath her purple gown. Gilwyn stopped on the threshold to gape at her. In all his life he had never seen a more striking figure. Seeing her was like looking at a rainbow.
“Welcome, friends,” she said. The music of the lute only complemented her honey-sweet voice. It was a strong voice, belying the grace of her features. Clearly she was a woman of mature years, but her skin, like her voice, was glassy smooth. Her feline eyes fell upon Gilwyn, bewitching him at once. “Please come in.”
Rodrik Varl
guided them further into the room. Tearing free of Jazana Carr’s gaze, Gilwyn studied the table. His empty stomach growled. The Diamond Queen had turned out a feast, an incredible selection of breads and meats and fish and fruit, all piled high on mirror-bright platters and steaming porcelain tureens. As if by magic, a pair of servants Gilwyn hadn’t noticed before came alive, emerging from the far corner of the chamber. They flanked the table on either side of their mistress, each pulling out a chair with their white-gloved hands.
“Sit down, my friends,” purred Jazana Carr.
Gilwyn sat down warily, opposite Breck. The old knight picked up the linen napkin at his place setting. The servant behind him plucked it from his fingers, settling it on his lap as he took his chair.
“Thanks,” said Breck awkwardly. He looked across the table at Gilwyn, who was just as confused as his guide.
“There now, isn’t this nice?” said Jazana Carr. She took her seat again, an ornate wooden chair as tall as a throne. Behind her, her own manservant stood at the ready, his neck circled with a diamond choker. He was still as a statue while his mistress spoke. “Rodrik, thank you,” said Jazana with a smile. “You may go now.”
“As you wish, my lady.” Rodrik Varl bowed with a flourish then turned and walked out of the vast chamber, leaving the three strangers alone at the table. Jazana Carr wrapped her jeweled fingers around a crystal goblet, raising it to her guests.
“It’s so good to see you both,” she said as if she’d known them for years. “I don’t get many visitors here. Drink, both of you, please.”
Gilwyn and Breck picked up their goblets, noticing they were already filled. They exchanged wary glances, which Jazana Carr picked up immediately.
“Oh, now you disappoint me,” she pouted. “I assure you, my dears, there’s nothing in those glasses but the sweetest wine.”
Teku chattered a low warning in Gilwyn’s ear.
“Yes, your little friend. Rodrik told me about him.” Jazana Carr leaned across the table for a better look. “I’ve never seen a creature with such coloring before. Is he from Liiria, too?”
“Uh, no ma’am,” said Gilwyn. “She’s from Ganjor.”
“A girl!” chirped the warlady. “How wonderful! But you are from Liiria, yes, boy?”
“That’s right,” said Breck. He still hadn’t tasted his wine.
“Well, I am Jazana Carr,” pronounced the woman, “And now you must tell me what you’re hiding.”
Gilwyn lowered his goblet. “Hiding?”
“Your names. Rodrik told me you were a secretive pair, but I must say you’re being awfully rude.” She wrinkled her nose playfully at Teku, then glanced between her visitors. “Well?”
“Forgive us, Jazana Carr,” said Breck. He stood up and bowed. “My name is Breck.”
“Breck?” asked the woman. She lost interest in Teku suddenly. “Just Breck? Nothing more?”
Breck grinned disarmingly. “Just Breck, for now.”
“A man of secrets,” sighed the warlady. “You may sit.” She turned her probing eyes on Gilwyn. “And you, young man—what’s your name?”
“I’m Gilwyn Toms, my lady.” Gilwyn made to stand but Jazana Carr waved him down.
“Don’t get up. I see from that strange boot of yours that you’re a cripple.” Her gaze dropped momentarily to his clubbed hand. “Your hand, too. Pity. You’re a handsome boy.”
Gilwyn bristled. “I assure you, my lady, I’m quite capable of getting around.”
“Yes,” cooed Jazana Carr. “You must be to have come all the way from Liiria.” She sipped languidly at her wine, letting her gaze rest on Breck, her eyes twinkling over the rim of the goblet. Her dainty fingers lowered the glass. “So, Breck,” she began, “Rodrik tells me you’re a soldier.”
“That was his supposition, my lady,” replied Breck.
“Rodrik knows a soldier when he sees one. He can be a boor, like all men, but he’s never wrong about such things.”
“He recruits for you, then?” Breck asked.
Jazana Carr replied, “Tell me about yourself.”
“My lady, the boy and I are here on business. We only want to ask—”
“Yes, yes, you’re looking for someone,” interrupted Carr. “I know all that already. We’ll get to it. But first Jazana Carr wants to know about you.”
Gilwyn’s jaw tightened at the inquisition. Even as the servants began dishing up the food, his appetite disappeared. Clearly Jazana Carr wanted something, maybe entertainment, maybe something more.
“I don’t get many visitors from Liiria, you see,” said Jazana Carr. “Most of my men come from Reec or Marn. I’ve only had a handful of Liirian men serve me, and they’ve all been most adequate indeed.” Her perfect pink tongue slid across her lips. “If you are half as good as those men, I could use you, Breck.”
“Ah, my lady, now you make yourself clear,” said Breck. “You need another sword against your enemies.”
“Hmm, something like that,” said Carr. “I have many enemies. Some I haven’t even made yet.”
The enigmatic answer troubled Gilwyn. He said, “My lady, I don’t think we can give you what you want. We’re already occupied by our own important business.”
“Hush, child,” said Carr in a lullaby voice. She turned back to Breck. “You, sir, intrigue me. You’re too old and weather-beaten to be one of General Trager’s men, yet you carry yourself like a Royal Charger.” Carefully she studied Breck’s face for signs. A small twitch told her what she wanted to know. “Yes,” she drawled. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
Finally, Breck lifted his wine glass. “My lady sees very clearly.”
“You were a Charger, then? In the old days?”
“Does it matter?”
“Very much,” said Jazana Carr. She seemed immensely pleased by the revelation. “If you are who you say you are, then you’re an enemy of King Akeela.”
“Nay, not an enemy,” said Breck, lowering his glass and scowling. “I’m loyal to Liiria. Whatever happened in the old days is over, and I bear King Akeela no grudges. I left the service of my own volition. Besides. . . .” He looked at Carr suspiciously. “Why would my past interest you?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” said Jazana Carr. “I have need of strong men like yourself, men who know Liiria and have umbrage against King Akeela. Oh, you can deny your feelings all you like. You may lie to me about them, but I know the truth. You see, Sir Breck, I know you better than you think.” Without looking, she reached out and scratched Teku’s head, but her eyes remained locked on Breck. “You’re not the only Liirian ever to pass this way.”
Breck and Gilwyn froze under her stare. Teku purred at the sensation of her long nails.
“You know me?” asked Breck. “How?”
A servant began serving Jazana Carr oysters. The warlady waved him away. “You’re looking for someone, Sir Breck. You’re from Liiria. You used to be a Royal Charger.” Her long fingers ticked off the facts one by one. “I’m not a stupid woman. I can add.”
“Then you know we’re looking for Lukien?” asked Gilwyn.
Jazana Carr chuckled. “I do now.”
“Is he here? Can we speak to him?”
“Easy, Gilwyn,” said Breck. “Let the lady tell her story.”
“Thank you, Sir Breck,” said Jazana Carr. “Yes, the Bronze Knight works for me. He has for many years. In fact, he’s been invaluable. A fabulous fighter, that one. From the first time I laid eyes on him, I knew he was something special.” The warlady sighed. “Great Fate, he was beautiful. So blond, like the sun. He’s not so lovely now, I’m afraid.”
“Is he all right?” asked Breck.
“Oh, yes. Don’t be concerned. I think your friend is quite invincible.”
“He told you about me?”
“He did. He only mentioned you once, a long time ago. He warned me that a man named Breck might come looking for him someday. Knowing he was a Liirian, I made him confess his identity. I’ve kept that secret for years.
Around here he’s known as Ryon.”
Confused, Breck glanced at the servants who had just overheard every word.
“Oh, don’t worry about them,” said Carr. “I assure you, if they breathe a word of what they’ve heard, I’ll cut off their stones and make them eat them.”
Gilwyn almost dropped his fork. Jazana Carr laughed delightedly.
“Can we see Lukien?” asked Breck.
“First, a question,” said Carr. “What news do you bring him?”
“I’m sorry, my lady,” said Breck. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Do you mean to take him away from me?”
Breck was silent. The warlady’s expression grew stormy.
“Lukien is very important to me,” she warned. “If you have plans to lure him away, I must know.”
Still Breck said nothing.
“You don’t trust me,” said Carr. “Very well. Then I will tell you this—Lukien is not here, but he will return. He is on his way back from Disa and should return in a few days.”
“And you’ll let us speak to him then?” asked Gilwyn.
“I don’t see why I should,” said Jazana Carr petulantly. “Here I’ve offered you this sumptuous meal, told you the truth about your friend, yet you treat me like rubbish. You Liirians; always so damnably secretive.”
“Forgive us, Jazana Carr, please,” said Breck. “We mean no offense. You have indeed been gracious, and we’re in your debt. But the news I bring Lukien is for him alone. We cannot tell you or anyone else.”
“Is it about Liiria?” pressed Carr. “About your king, perhaps?”
Breck sighed. “My lady, you may question me all night and day, but I won’t tell you what you want to know. And if you have designs on Liiria, then you best keep them to yourself.”
Jazana Carr grinned. “Discovered.”
Gilwyn sat up in alarm. “Designs on Liiria? You mean to attack, my lady?”
“Oooh, someday. . . .” Jazana Carr smacked her lips as if eating a confection. “Wouldn’t that be grand? The greatest jewel on the continent!”