The Eyes of God

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The Eyes of God Page 55

by John Marco


  Lukien picked up a gnarled stick and poked the flames, sending up a shower of sparks. He had kept the fire small to avoid being seen, but he knew that Cassandra would be cold when she arrived and grateful for the fire.

  Lukien corrected himself. If she arrived.

  Dawn would soon be upon them. Only a few more hours of darkness remained. Lukien had hoped to have some time with Cassandra before fleeing to Breck’s, but the coming dawn made that less likely now. Unless she arrived soon, they would have to make the most of the remaining dark, get as much distance between themselves and Lionkeep as possible. . . .

  He heard a noise. Alarmed, he hunched down next to the fire, shielding its glow with his cape. Down the tree-lined avenue the mist swirled in the breeze. The noise of horse hooves reached him, coming toward him. His hand went instinctively to his sword. His muscles coiled to spring. If Gilwyn had been discovered there would be dozens of wardens in the orchard, closing around him like a noose.

  But only one horse approached, its nose breaking through the mist. Brown and plain and moving with a tired gait, it dragged a familiar wagon behind it. Lukien’s sword hand fell loose at his side. Slowly he rose to his feet. The horse was Tempest and the wagon was Gilwyn’s. The boy sat in the bench seat, searching the mists. And he wasn’t alone.

  Beside Gilwyn sat Cassandra.

  Dark-haired and lovely, untouched by time. Her body was wrapped in the wagon’s tarp, but her face was unmistakable in the moonlight. For a moment Lukien couldn’t breathe. He could barely even think, for the sight of Cassandra was so strange to him, as if time had stood still and they were both alone in the orchard again, making love for that first time. As the wagon drew closer Gilwyn noticed him beside the campfire. The boy waved excitedly. Cassandra’s head lifted, her eyes meeting Lukien’s.

  “Great Fate, it’s a miracle. . . .”

  A great, sad smile stretched across Cassandra’s face. Her hand appeared from beneath the tarp to wave at Lukien, who rushed forward to greet them, sprinting through the mist. Gilwyn reined in Tempest, and when the wagon halted Cassandra jumped to her feet. The tarpaulin she’d been wearing fell from her shoulders and she stood exquisitely exposed, thrusting out her arms for her coming lover.

  “Lukien!”

  The exuberant call echoed through the orchard. Lukien raced ahead, not stopping until he was at the foot of the wagon. There he paused, looked straight into Cassandra’s beautiful face, and put out his hands for her. Without a word she dropped into his embrace. He scooped her from the wagon, laughing, twirling her around in a giddy waltz.

  “Lukien!” cried Cassandra again. “It’s you!”

  “It’s me, my love, it’s me,” sang Lukien. She was weightless in his arms. Tears streaked her glowing face as she looked up at him, her arms stretched around his neck. Not a drop of time had touched her. Lukien stopped spinning long enough to embrace her, holding her without a sound, listening to the remarkable noise of her breath in his ear. She was more than young and beautiful. She was alive.

  “I can’t believe it,” he sighed. “I never thought I’d see you again.” He pressed her head to his chest and kissed it. “You’re free now, Cassandra, free!”

  “Free,” Cassandra echoed, her voice breaking. She pulled from his embrace and studied his face. Her expression was profoundly sad. “Look at you,” she sighed. “Oh, Lukien . . .” Her fingers lightly touched his cheek, tracing the area of his damaged eye. “What happened?”

  Lukien took her hand away and kissed it. “I’m well, Cassandra. Don’t be afraid. Age has caught up with me, that’s all.”

  “But your eye. . . .”

  “It’s nothing, Cassandra, nothing.”

  “No,” she insisted. Her smile was pained. “You look so different, so. . . .”

  “There’s much to tell you,” agreed Lukien, nodding. “But time enough for that later.” He smiled widely. “Time enough for everything now.” Beneath her nightgown he saw the red glow of a jewel and knew at once it was the Eye of God. “So it’s true,” he said, reaching out to touch the thing. “I guess I never really believed it.” There was so much to say, yet so few words to express it. In the end, all he could speak was her name. “Cassandra. . . .”

  She returned his smile, almost grinning, the way she always had in the past. “I love you,” she said simply. “I knew you’d return for me.”

  It hurt to hear the words. She had so much faith in him.

  “Sixteen bloody years. I never should have left you.” From atop the wagon, Gilwyn cleared his throat. “Uhm, pardon me, but don’t we have some clothes for the lady?”

  Lukien had hardly noticed Cassandra’s near nakedness. “Yes, of course,” he said quickly. “I have clothes for you, Cassandra, and boots for riding. And a coat.”

  “First the coat, please,” laughed Cassandra, drifting toward the fire. “I’m frozen from riding in that wagon.”

  Lukien went to the horse and began fumbling with the saddle roll where he’d folded up Cassandra’s clothes. He said to Gilwyn, “I was worried about you. You were gone a long time.”

  Gilwyn climbed down from the wagon with Teku. “It was tougher to find Cassandra than I thought. But Teku found her eventually.”

  “And you got out of the keep all right?”

  Gilwyn and Cassandra glanced at each other. Lukien unrolled the long coat he’d brought and went to Cassandra.

  “What happened?” he asked. “Did someone see you?”

  “No, but it was close,” said Gilwyn. He began to laugh. “You won’t believe this, Lukien, but Trager was the one that saved us!”

  “Trager?” Lukien draped the coat over Cassandra’s shoulders. “What happened?”

  “The wardens at the gate stopped us,” Cassandra explained. “They were about to look under the covers where I was hiding. General Trager told them to stop hassling us and sent us on our way.”

  “Can you believe the luck?” crowed Gilwyn. “We left Lionkeep right under his nose!”

  Lukien was too nervous to see the humor of it. When the coat was on Cassandra, he directed her back toward the fire. “Here, warm yourself. I’ll get the other clothes for you.”

  But before he could turn, Cassandra snatched his hand, pulling him back. “Wait,” she said, smiling. “Let me look at you.”

  “My lady, I really think you should hurry,” said Gilwyn. “It’ll be light soon. Once they discover you’re gone—”

  “I’ve waited sixteen years for this moment, Gilwyn Toms,” interrupted Cassandra gently. “I won’t be rushed.” She patted the ground next to her. “Sit with me, Lukien. There’s so much we need to say to each other.”

  After all these years, the thought of being alone with Cassandra was too tempting to ignore. Lukien gave Gilwyn a little nod. “There’s time yet before we have to set out. Why don’t you go keep a lookout, Gilwyn. If anyone comes near, let us know.”

  Gilwyn gave a sly smile. “Right.”

  He shuffled off with Teku on his shoulder, soon disappearing into the mist. Once again there was only the sound of the fire and Cassandra’s gentle breath. She took Lukien’s hand again, pulling him down beside her. Her expression was inscrutable. Lukien longed to know what she was thinking. There was a surprising ease between them, as if no time had passed at all.

  “Gilwyn told me about Norvor,” she said softly. “And about Baron Glass.”

  “Good,” said Lukien, relieved. “Then you know we’re heading to meet with him?”

  “At Breck’s farm. Yes, I know.” Cassandra shifted closer to him. The warmth of the fire mingled with the warmth of her skin. It was the most marvelous sensation Lukien had felt in years.

  “I’m not what you expected, I know,” said Lukien. “I know I’ve changed. But life in Norvor is hard, Cassandra. I’ve had to fight to stay alive.”

  “Fighting is what you are best at, Lukien. It always has been.”

  Lukien nodded. “Perhaps. But I’m older now, slower. Great Fate, look at me—I look
like your father now!”

  “Hush,” said Cassandra, putting a finger to his lips. “To me you are beautiful. One eye or two, it doesn’t matter.”

  Her smile told him she wasn’t lying. Lukien melted at her touch.

  “I still love you, Cassandra,” he said. “I never forgot about you, never.”

  Cassandra chuckled. “I’m not your confessor, Lukien. You don’t have to tell me about your other women.”

  “No, that’s not it,” said Lukien. “I just want you to know I was always thinking about you. I always hoped that someday you would send for me, and now you have.”

  “And you came,” said Cassandra. “Thank you.”

  There was no need for thanks. Lukien knew he would have crossed an ocean at her call. Being with her again reminded him of why he loved her. She was beautiful, true, but so much more. She was that unattainable thing that all men raised on the streets seek. Her love for him was redemptive.

  “It’s been so long,” she said. “All the years I had to think about it, I imagined what you’d look like now.” She sat up straight. “Tell me about Norvor. Gilwyn said you were with a woman there, the warlady Jazana Carr.”

  Lukien shrugged. “I had no choice, really. Like I said, it was either fight or die. I chose to fight.”

  “Is that how you lost your eye?”

  Lukien toyed with one of the campfire sticks, picking it up and studying its burning tip. He didn’t like talking about his missing eye, and wished Cassandra would stop fussing over it. “A Norvan blade did this to me,” he said casually. “Nothing really to talk about. It hurt for a few weeks, but now I hardly feel anything.”

  Again Cassandra seemed sad. “I’m sorry about what happened to you, Lukien. I would have stopped Akeela if I could have, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He won’t even let anyone speak your name.”

  Lukien plunged the branch into the flames. Even after all these years, Akeela’s rancor toward him still hurt. “Baron Glass is very grateful to you, Cassandra. You were able to save him, at least.”

  “I kept him from being executed, that’s all,” said Cassandra. “You’re really the one that saved him, Lukien. Is that why he came back with you? Because he owes you?”

  “Pretty much,” said Lukien. He knew now was not the time to tell Cassandra anything more. She was still married to Akeela, after all, and talk of his overthrow would surely upset her. “He’s a good man. He never deserved what Akeela did to him.”

  “I know,” sighed Cassandra. “But Akeela’s not well. None of us can really blame him for the things he does.”

  “Hmm, I’m not so sure I’m ready to forgive so easily, Cassandra. I blame Akeela, and so does Thorin.” Then Lukien softened, asking, “How is Akeela?”

  “Oh, how can I answer that? He’s demented. He’s been so for years now, but he gets worse as he gets older.”

  The concern in her voice surprised Lukien. “You’re sad for him.”

  “I am. I know you hate him, Lukien, and I suppose you have reason. But he’s been kind to me, mostly. And I can still remember what he used to be like, before . . . well, you know.”

  There was a long pause between them. For a moment, Lukien recalled what Akeela had been like, how good and generous he’d been. He missed his old friend sometimes. The truth was, he had never been able to hate Akeela.

  “You have no idea what it’s like to see a good man deteriorate so,” said Cassandra. “And the worst part is that he still loves me. Can you imagine that? After all these years?”

  “Why not?” said Lukien with a grin. “I still love you.”

  “No,” said Cassandra. “You love me like a man should love a woman. But Akeela’s love is terrible. It’s maddened him. It’s turned him into a murderer.” She looked at Lukien earnestly. “Gilwyn told you what he’s planned, hasn’t he?”

  “He plans to go to Grimhold for the other Eye,” said Lukien. “Yes, he told me.”

  “Not just Grimhold, Lukien. Jador. And when he gets to Jador he plans on massacring them if they don’t help him find the Eye. That’s not Akeela the Good, not the man we knew.”

  “True,” agreed Lukien. “But have no illusions, Cassandra—what you’re planning is dangerous. If Akeela doesn’t find and kill us, then maybe the desert will. Or maybe the Jadori. Are you sure you want to warn them of Akeela?”

  “I must,” said Cassandra. “I can’t let them be massacred.”

  “Don’t expect them to look kindly on us. Even if we reach them, they may remember me. And they’ll want their amulet back. Have you considered that?”

  Cassandra lowered her eyes. “Yes.”

  “You’ll die without it, you know.”

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not. If Grimhold exists, then they had enough magic to make this amulet. Maybe they have some other means to help me.”

  “Not likely,” said Lukien.

  “No,” Cassandra admitted, “but I have no choice. I can’t live like this. To be honest, I’m hoping that Akeela calls off his invasion. Once he knows I’m gone, maybe he won’t bother searching for the other Eye.”

  “I wish that were true, but I can’t believe it. Akeela will hound us relentlessly. And he’s got a taste for Grimhold now. He’s not going to stop. Even if he doesn’t go there himself, he’ll send Trager to Jador.”

  “Then you see why I must warn them, Lukien.” Cassandra pulled the coat tighter around her shoulders, staring fretfully into the fire. “I’ve stolen enough life. I won’t let the Jadori be massacred because of me. We must go to Jador. And if you won’t go with me, then I’ll go myself.”

  “Brave,” said Lukien with a smile. “But I can’t let you do that.”

  She looked at him. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re not going to Jador, Cassandra. I’m going, with Glass. You’re going to Marn.”

  “What . . . ?”

  “I’ll ride to Jador to tell them what’s coming, but you’re not going with me.” Lukien gripped her hand firmly. “I won’t let you die, Cassandra. I won’t let you give back the amulet.”

  “Lukien, I must. No matter what else happens, I can’t live like this. Look at you. You said yourself how you’ve aged. Am I to go on forever, without you, losing everyone I care about?”

  “If you remove the Eye you’ll die, Cassandra.”

  “We don’t know that. Perhaps my sickness is cured and it’s no longer growing. Perhaps—”

  “No,” snapped Lukien. “The Eye has kept you alive and you must stay alive! I won’t let you risk yourself, not even for a thousand Jadori. I’ll go to Jador myself and tell them about Akeela. You will stay behind, Cassandra, and you will live!”

  His voice carried through the dark orchard. Stunned by the outburst, Cassandra reared back. She did not seem frightened by him, though.

  “Why would you do this thing?” she asked. “Why would you risk yourself for the Jadori?”

  It was the question Lukien had long dreaded. He knew now that no one had ever told her how the Eye had really been won.

  “Cassandra, I owe the Jadori a debt.”

  Cassandra squeezed his hand. “Tell me.”

  “It’s difficult. It happened so long ago, but it still haunts me sometimes.” Glancing away, Lukien distracted himself by studying the flames. In their orange glow he saw the face of Kahana Jitendra. “When we took the Eye of God from Jador, something happened,” he began. “Kahan Kadar, their ruler . . . he welcomed us into his palace. He treated us like royal guests. But the Eye was his, you see.”

  “You stole it from him,” said Cassandra. “I know that, Lukien.”

  “No, we didn’t just steal it,” said Lukien. “We killed for it. I killed. I killed Kadar’s wife.”

  There was no sound from Cassandra. Lukien couldn’t bring himself to look at her.

  “She was in Kadar’s bed the night we went to steal the Eye,” he continued. “I thought Kadar was in that bed, but it was Jitendra. She screamed, Kadar burst in on us, and I accidentally stabbed her. An
d the worst part. . . .” He drew a breath, hardly able to go on. “The worst part was she was pregnant.”

  Lukien braced himself for Cassandra’s reaction. To his surprise she reached out and brushed the hair from his forehead.

  “My sweet Lukien,” she said softly.

  “Sweet to you, perhaps, Cassandra, but not to the Jadori. To them I’m a monster.”

  “Sixteen years, Lukien. A long time.”

  “Not long enough to forget the death of a wife,” said Lukien. “You weren’t there, Cassandra. You didn’t hear Kadar. If I live to be a hundred, I’ll never forget the sound of his cries. So you see? I have to go back. You don’t owe the Jadori anything. I do.”

  “We will go together, then,” said Cassandra. “I won’t leave you to them alone.”

  “I won’t be alone. Thorin will be with me.”

  “Thorin Glass is an old man, Lukien. Whereas I—”

  “No, Cassandra,” Lukien begged. “Don’t argue with me, please. We’ve talked about this, Thorin and I. You’ll be safe in Marn. No one there knows you, and we’ll come back for you as soon as we can.”

  “And if you don’t return?” asked Cassandra.

  Lukien shrugged. “If I don’t return, I’ll die knowing that you’re safe. Now please, no more talk of this.” He smiled at her, trying desperately to change the subject. “It’s been so long, I want to enjoy this. And Gilwyn’s right, you know. There isn’t much time before we have to leave. In fact, you should be getting dressed. I’ve brought good clothes for riding. Food, too.”

  “Yes, all right,” Cassandra agreed. “Will you fetch the clothes for me? It’s nice by the fire.”

  They both rose, Cassandra standing by the fire, Lukien going to the horse. He expected Cassandra to disrobe and wanted to give her privacy, but she called to him a moment later. Lukien turned. She was blinking, confused. Her arms were spread and her eyes dropped down toward her legs. There, in the space between her thighs, a bloom of crimson stained her nightgown.

 

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