The Eyes of God

by John Marco

  “But you can’t,” Gilwyn protested. “I mean, how can you?”

  “Why else do you think she wanted to see us, Gilwyn?” said Breck. He was remarkably casual, swirling the wine he still hadn’t tasted. “She doesn’t just need swords against King Lorn. She needs insiders against Liiria. What did I tell you earlier, do you remember?”

  Gilwyn had to think for a moment. “You said that all mercenaries are scum.”

  At last Breck drank from his goblet, toasting, “Exactly.”

  The insult riled Jazana Carr. She said, “You may think what you wish of me, Sir Breck. You may mistake my ambition for treachery. But I have made a life out of fighting. I started with nothing, one small diamond mine. From that I built an empire, one that even your King Akeela cannot match. While that addle-brained whelp’s been spending his money like piss, I’ve been amassing my riches. And waiting.”

  “You’re indeed impressive, Jazana Carr. And I take it you have King Lorn on the run, too.”

  “Do not patronize me, sir,” she spat. “I have spent my life in the shadows of men like you. Because I am a woman you think me weak, not to be taken seriously. I am like a whore to you, because I crave success. Well, let me tell you something. I can buy anything I wish. See these men that serve me? Dogs, all of them. I throw them meat and they beg for more. Even your precious Lukien. They are the whores, sir, not I.”

  “Lukien is no whore,” said Breck. His voice held a dangerous edge. “If he has become one, then surely you are to blame.”

  “Whores,” said Carr again. “Like all the men that serve me.” She gestured to the lute player. “Like that useless musician. I call a tune, he plays it. Why? For money. Men are the whores of the world, Sir Breck. Every last one of them is for sale.”

  Breck placed his napkin on the table and rose to his feet. “Since Lukien isn’t here, I think we’d better go.”

  “I have not dismissed you!” thundered Carr. “You will sit until I have said my piece!”

  Gilwyn didn’t move. Nor did Breck, who remained standing. Jazana Carr fought to compose herself, putting her hands to her cheeks.

  “You see?” she said. “You see how men madden me? Well, to business, then. Sir Breck, you wish to speak to my servant Lukien. And I wish men to serve me, men who are talented with weapons and have knowledge of Liiria. So we can barter, yes?”

  “No, my lady,” replied Breck. “I’m not looking for employment.”

  Jazana Carr took a diamond ring from her finger and tossed it into Breck’s plate. “There,” she spat, “a first payment. A single gem worth twice whatever rat hole you call a house. The first of many payments if you join me.”

  Breck didn’t even glance at the diamond. “I have a family back in Liiria. I’m not for sale.”

  “Liar. All men are for sale. Their love is like a rainstorm, here one moment, gone the next. Do not profess love for a wife over your love of money. I have seen how much love means to men, how they buy and sell it.”

  “Nevertheless,” said Breck, picking up the diamond and tossing it back at the woman, “it is true.”

  This enraged Jazana Carr. She stood up and glared at Gilwyn.

  “That monkey. How much?”

  “What?” stammered Gilwyn.

  “How much for your wretched little pet?”

  “I’m sorry, my lady, but Teku’s not a pet. She’s a friend.”

  “Friend?” shrieked Carr. “Are you mad? It’s not even human!”

  “Still, Teku is a friend. She helps me. She fetches things for me that I can’t reach with my bad hand.”

  “Boy, with diamonds you could buy a house full of servants to bring you things. You don’t need a stinking monkey!”

  Gilwyn was about to speak when a new voice rang through the room.

  “You can’t buy everything, my dear.”

  A figure crossed the threshold, a giant of a man dressed in a black leather jerkin and tall black riding boots. He had a face like granite, with a gray-speckled beard and a pair of smoldering eyes. The left sleeve of his snow-white shirt looped up to his shoulder, pinned and armless. The mere sight of him wiped the venom from Jazana Carr’s face.

  “Thorin,” she said excitedly. “You’re back.”

  She went to him at once, forgetting her guests and their argument, throwing her arms around the man and peppering his bearded face with kisses. The man circled his single arm around her waist, drawing her near.

  “Rodrik told me we had visitors from Liiria,” he said. “I thought I should come at once.”

  Gilwyn stared at the man, purely fascinated. He wasn’t Lukien, surely, yet he had the presence of a hero. His piercing eyes met Gilwyn’s.

  “You, boy,” he boomed. “What’s your name?”

  Gilwyn could barely find his voice. “My name is Gilwyn Toms.”

  “Gilwyn Toms,” the man repeated. “Well, Toms, I am—”

  “Thorin Glass,” said Breck. He was still standing, staring at the stranger. “I don’t bloody believe it.”

  “Do you know me, sir?” asked the big man.

  Gilwyn looked at Breck in amazement. “Do you, Breck?”

  Breck nodded. “I think I do. You’re Baron Glass.”

  The one-armed man grinned. “Ah, now that’s a title that no longer applies.” He guided Jazana Carr toward the table. She clung to him adoringly. “And you?” he asked. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Breck. Baron, I thought you were dead!”

  “And I very nearly was, no thanks to your king.” The man studied Breck carefully. “Breck you say?”

  “You know me, sir. I was a Royal Charger under Captain Lukien.”

  The man nodded as he recalled the name and face. “Yes,” he said softly. “I remember you.”

  Gilwyn was stupefied. “Baron Glass? But how can that be? Baron Glass died on the Isle of Woe.”

  “Correction, boy,” said the one-armed man. “Nearly died.”

  “But how?” asked Breck. “Sir, this is a shock!”

  Jazana Carr led Glass to her giant chair, bidding him to sit. She took her own wine goblet and put it gently into his hand. “Thorin, these two are looking for Lukien.”

  Glass’ face lost his humor. “Lukien? Why?”

  “We have a message for him,” said Breck. “It’s urgent.” Then he shook his head, still reeling with astonishment. “I can’t believe it. It really is you. How’s that possible?”

  “You have a thousand questions, I know,” said Glass. “And I’ll tell you my ugly tale. But first. . . .” He put the goblet to his lips and drank its contents in a long quaff. “Fate above, I’m thirsty. More.” Snapping his fingers brought a servant from the corner, who silently refilled his goblet before disappearing. Another servant brought out a chair for Jazana Carr, seating her beside Glass.

  “Breck, I’m confused,” said Gilwyn. He watched Glass as he spoke, studying him “I thought Baron Glass was banished to Woe.”

  “He was,” said Breck. He, too, kept his eyes on the baron. “First Borior Prison, then the Isle.”

  “All true,” said Glass. “I rotted in Borior for two years until my sentence was up. Then I was to swing from the gallows. Your Queen Cassandra intervened.” Glass looked into his wine pensively. “A good woman. I suppose I should be grateful. She thought banishment on Woe was better than death. She couldn’t possibly have known the horror on that barren rock.”

  “But you escaped,” said Breck. “How?”

  “Lukien,” replied Glass. He put down his glass and took Jazana Carr’s jeweled hand. The warlady smiled at him, her teeth like sunshine. “He was already in Jazana’s employ by then. He heard about my banishment and saved me.”

  Gilwyn was astonished. “He went to Woe?”

  “He did, with a handful of Jazana’s men. They hired a ship and a crew that wouldn’t talk, thanks to this dear woman.” Glass lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. Jazana Carr melted at the gesture. “It wasn’t easy but they found me,” he went on. �
��Half dead I was, a skeleton from my days in Borior and the hot sun of Woe. Fate above, that island’s a giant hearth. It ripped the skin right off me.”

  “And then they brought you here,” said Jazana Carr gently. “To me.”

  “I have Lukien to thank for my life,” said Glass. “He rescued me because he’s loyal, and because he thought I deserved a better death than the one Akeela had planned for me.”

  “He always thought highly of you,” added Breck with a nod. “He’s a remarkable man.”

  Jazana Carr chuckled. “I have found that all Liirian men are remarkable.” Her tongue darted out and playfully licked Glass’ ear. “You’d be amazed at what a one-armed man can do in bed.”

  Glass cleared his throat in embarrassment. “Jazana, stop now.”

  “Why, sweetling?” she asked, caressing his chest. “They’ve already guessed we’re lovers.” She smiled proudly at her guests. “Lukien brought a great prize back from the Isle of Woe.”

  Glass hurried to change the subject. “And now you’re looking for him? Why?”

  “We have news for him, Baron Glass,” said Gilwyn.

  “News we can’t share with you,” Breck hurried to add.

  Jazana Carr’s expression turned gloomy again. “You hear? They flaunt their secrets in my face.”

  “Easy, love,” bade Glass. He looked at Breck carefully. “You and the boy have come a long way. Obviously your news is important. But we have trusted you with our identities. Surely you can trust us with your news.”

  Breck shook his head. “Sorry, Baron, no. What we have to say is for Lukien only. Jazana Carr has already told us he’s on his way back here. When he arrives, we’ll deliver our message and be on our way.”

  “And if my hospitality dries up before then?” asked Carr acidly. “What will you do? Rot in the wasteland outside?”

  “Jazana, please,” said Glass calmly. “No need to threaten. We’ll let them stay until Lukien returns.”

  “Thorin. . . .”

  “I owe Lukien a debt, let’s not forget. If these two have news for him, then we must treat them as his friends.”

  Jazana Carr began to smoulder beneath her many gems. Through gritted teeth she said, “As you wish.”

  Gilwyn had never seen anything like it. Glass’ ability to tame her was amazing. “Thank you, my lady,” he said, trying to appease her. “We appreciate your hospitality.”

  “Jazana, why don’t you leave us now?” said Glass. “I’d like to catch up with Breck alone, if you don’t mind.”

  Again the anger flashed through Carr’s eyes, but only for a moment. She rose from her chair, leaned down and kissed Glass on the forehead. “As you wish.”

  Gilwyn watched the elegant woman drift out of the chamber without another word, astonished by Glass’ power over her. Glass saw the amazement in his face.

  “She loves me,” he explained. The words came out in a burdensome sigh. “That’s why she listens to me.”

  “I bet you’re the only one that can talk to her like that,” said Breck.

  Glass nodded. “Not even Lukien, though she loves him too, in a way.”

  “Really?” asked Breck in surprise. “She doesn’t seem to care much for men.”

  “Oh, she’s got an appetite for them.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” countered Breck.

  Glass nodded. “I know what you mean. And you’re right. But don’t judge her too harshly. Jazana has spent her life in Norvor, remember, and Norvor is not a place that’s kind to women. Men have beaten and betrayed her. She doesn’t trust them.”

  “Yet you work for her?” asked Breck.

  “In a manner of speaking. She has many men working for her, but none with my experience in military matters. I’m valuable to her, as is Lukien.” Before he continued he ordered the servants out of the room, along with the lute player. As the musician retreated, Glass barked, “And close the doors.”

  Alone at last, Gilwyn relaxed a little. Breck continued shaking his head, still amazed by the baron’s presence. Glass poured himself another goblet of wine.

  “You’re troubled,” he said. “I can see it in your eyes.”

  “You work for her, and yet she plans to attack Liiria someday,” said Breck. “Yes, I’m sorry, Baron. That does trouble me.”

  “But should it really surprise you? After what Akeela did to me? After what he did to Lukien?”

  Breck was unmoved. “How long has she been planning this?”

  “Forever,” said Glass sourly. “Maybe that’s why she let Lukien save me, I don’t know. But it’s why she values me so highly, and why she wants you to join her, Breck. Even the boy, if she can find a use for him.”

  “But Liiria’s too powerful,” said Gilwyn. “There’s no way she could defeat them, not even with all her riches.”

  “Don’t underestimate her, boy. Jazana is richer than you think, and she’s been pushing King Lorn hard these last two years. One day she’ll defeat him. And when she does, she’ll finally fulfill her use to me.”

  The statement disgusted Gilwyn. “So you’re just using her, then?”

  “Like she’s using me,” sneered Glass. Then he softened, saying, “All right, she loves me. But she knows I’m valuable to her. Would she love me so much otherwise, I wonder?”

  “I can’t believe it,” said Breck sadly. “You’ve wasted all these years, working with this terrible woman just so you can have your revenge on Akeela? What about your family, Baron?”

  “My family is forfeit,” said Glass. “They were lost to me the moment Akeela sent me to Borior. How could I ever return to them? Akeela would have them killed. He promised me that, your gracious king. Jazana Carr gives me hope. She’s ambitious, but she’s also patient. She knows she can’t defeat Trager’s army, not yet. But once she defeats Lorn—and she will—she’ll have a real army to command, and all the riches of Norvor. And then we’ll have a chance.”

  “That’s treachery,” said Breck.

  “It is not!” Glass thundered. “After what Akeela did to me, it is justice!”

  “And Lukien?” asked Breck. “He goes along with this?”

  “Why shouldn’t he? He has a score to settle with Akeela, just as I do.”

  Gilwyn gave Breck a sideways glance.

  “Baron,” said Breck carefully, “how much about Lukien do you really know?”

  “I know as much as you do, I’m sure,” said Glass. “Lukien’s love for Cassandra is no secret to me, nor to Jazana Carr.”

  “And that’s all you know?” Breck asked.

  Glass looked puzzled. “What else is there?”

  Breck shrugged off the question. “Not much. As I said, we’ve things to discuss with Lukien. Alone.”

  “And you’ll get your chance,” said Glass. “I owe that to Lukien. But be warned, both of you—Jazana Carr will not be keen to let you leave, especially now that you know her designs. I can protect you from her because she listens to me, but she can be quite tempting. She’ll let you speak to Lukien, but if you try to take him away, there’ll be trouble.” The baron paused. “Will you take him away?”

  “That will be up to him,” said Breck.

  The answer seemed to satisfy Glass. His one arm reached across the table and dragged a platter of sliced meat toward him. “Then let’s eat,” he said, “and have no more talk of this until Lukien arrives.”

  For the next hour Breck and Glass ate and exchanged histories, saying almost nothing about Lukien or the mission that had brought them here. Gilwyn listened to the banter, unable to eat, pensively feeding Teku bits of fruit. He admired Breck’s casual calm, but couldn’t share it. He was frightened of Jazana Carr and he missed Figgis terribly. More than anything, he wanted to go home.

  36

  Lukien had taken his time returning to Hanging Man. Along with Travis and the others, he had ridden out of Disa the day after the battle—once they had buried their dead and satisfied themselves that the remains of Colonel Ness’ army had scattere
d. The forests around Disa were quiet for the first time in weeks. So Lukien and his fellows had headed north from Disa at dawn, making their way deliberately toward Hanging Man but taking the time to enjoy the peace of the road. Halfway to their destination, Lukien had sent the others on ahead of him. They had stopped for the night in a place called Calane, a small farming village with windmills and sheep and acres of rich, pungent soil. The next morning when they were to depart, Lukien simply couldn’t bear another day on the road. He wanted desperately to remain in the village just a little while longer, to partake of its simple hospitality and be far away from soldiers and their talk of battle. Travis and the others had ridden off without him, assured that he would follow in a day or so. After enjoying Calane for two more days, Lukien kept his promise. He paid the family who had put him up for his brief holiday, then headed north again toward Hanging Man.

  Now alone on the road, Lukien was spared the distractions of his fellow mercenaries. He had time to think. Mostly he thought of Marke, and how quickly the young man had died. Lukien had been unable to reach him in time; Ness had chopped him down like a weed. The image of Marke slumping dead from his saddle haunted Lukien the whole ride home.

  Home.

  Home to Hanging Man, a fortress. Home to Baron Glass and Jazana Carr and all the comforts diamonds could buy, but not a true home at all. Home was Liiria; Lukien had never forgotten that. Sixteen years had not dulled his hunger for the streets of Koth or the accent of his countrymen. As he rode along a cool, green road, surrounded by summer flowers and chirping birds, Lukien thought of home.

  The next day he reached the Bleak Territories, where the roads were rugged and splayed out along rocky hills and gorges. The River Kryss pointed the way north. Lukien followed the waterway, stopping periodically to rest and water his horse. In the whispering desolation of northern Norvor he felt alone in the world, and he relished the experience. Suddenly he was no longer anxious to reach Hanging Man. Suddenly all he wanted to do was to keep riding, perhaps to a place where no one knew his name.