The Sword Of Angels eog-3

by John Marco

  Amid the chirping birds and gathered voices, Lorn soon heard the approach of men. The crowd went hush. A statue of a women holding a pitcher stood at the edge of the chamber’s floor, where the smooth stone met the sand. Lorn watched the statue as the outline of the men appeared behind it. First came a Jadori warrior, smiling. The man bowed hurriedly to his queen, then waved at the others to come into view. Poppy squirmed in Lorn’s arms as he craned for a better look, suddenly glimpsing a man come into view. The tall northerner turned toward the chamber of the queen, looking momentarily bewildered. His skin, red from the sun, bore the marks of a life lived hard. A black patch of cloth covered his eye, and his once golden hair hung now with streaks of grey. He wore plain, unadorned riding clothes and a beaten leather coat, giving him the look of a brigand. At his belt dangled a formidable looking sword. He paused at the edge of the terrace, his sole eye searching the crowd. It came to rest finally on White-Eye, followed by a wide, wolfish grin. Somehow knowing he had arrived, White-Eye stepped forward with her arms outstretched.

  ‘Lukien?’ she probed. ‘I can feel you!’

  The Bronze Knight of Liiria paused, studying the girl. A trace of dread crossed his happy face. ‘White-Eye. .’ He looked puzzled as he searched her sightless eyes. ‘I’m here.’ He took another step toward her, ignoring the hushed crowd. ‘Can you see me, girl?’

  White-Eye shook her head, remaining cheerful. ‘No, Lukien, I cannot. But I hear you and I know it is you! Come to me, Shalafein, come!’

  Like a loyal servant, Lukien went to her, falling to his knees before the Kahana and bowing his head to the floor. A rush went through the crowd. Eiriann gripped Lorn’s arm. The show of dedication made the hardened Jadori soldiers sigh, as White-Eye put her hand atop the knight’s sun-burned head and gently stroked his hair.

  ‘I’ve come back to you, my lady,’ said Lukien.

  ‘Rise, Shalafein,’ said White-Eye, her voice breaking with emotion. ‘Look at me.’

  Lukien rose, meeting her sightless gaze with a look of heartbreak. His hand came up to touch her, falling just short of her pretty face. ‘White-Eye,’ he said softly. ‘What has happened?’

  Lorn could tell it took effort for White-Eye to speak. ‘I have lost my Akari, Lukien. I am blind now.’

  ‘How is that possible?’ Lukien asked. ‘How can you lose an Akari?’

  ‘The story is long, Lukien. I will explain it.’ White-Eye tried to brighten. ‘But you are home! That is what matters’ He put her hands to his face, running them over his skin with a great smile. ‘Oh! You are different. You have a beard now, and you are thinner. Lukien, I must hear everything!’

  Lukien took her hand and kissed it. ‘You will, Kahana, I promise.’ He looked purposefully at the gathered faces. ‘Where is Gilwyn?’ he laughed. ‘Has he forgotten me already?’ Then he stopped himself. ‘White-Eye, why are you here at all? Why are you not in Grimhold?’ He glanced around in concern. ‘Is Minikin here?’

  ‘Lukien, you have questions, I know,’ said White-Eye. ‘Let me answer them for you my own way.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asked the knight.

  White-Eye hesitated. To Lorn, she looked more frightened now than when she had confronted Baralosus. The old king fought the urge to stand beside her.

  ‘Minikin is in Grimhold, Lukien,’ said White-Eye. Her voice went brittle. ‘And Gilwyn is not here.’

  Lukien started. ‘Is he all right?’

  ‘I do not know, Lukien. He has left Jador. He followed after you to Liiria.’

  ‘Liiria?’ the knight erupted. ‘Why? Damn the Fate, White-Eye, tell me what’s going on.’

  White-Eye shook her head. ‘Not here, Lukien. Please. .’ She gestured to the crowd, all of whom had been so pleased to see the Liirian return. ‘They’re here to see you, Lukien.’

  Lorn watched Lukien carefully as the knight struggled to control himself. The news about Gilwyn had overwhelmed him. ‘I want to talk now,’ he said softly. ‘Away from these others.’

  ‘I will tell you everything I can, Lukien,’ said White-Eye, ‘but first tell me this — did you find the sword you quested for?’

  Lukien seemed surprised. ‘How did you know about that?’

  ‘Did you find it?’ pressed the girl.

  ‘Yes.’ Lukien dropped his hand to his side to touch his sword. ‘But you can’t see it. .’

  White-Eye grimaced. ‘No.’

  ‘It’s called the Sword of Angels.’ Lukien’s tone fell flat. ‘It’s the means to beat the armour, White-Eye.’

  ‘I want to know all about it.’

  ‘And I want to know what’s happened to you,’ said Lukien. ‘And to Gilwyn.’

  Something in Lukien’s tone made Lorn snap. He didn’t like the arrogant knight at all. Still holding Poppy, he stepped out to defend White-Eye. ‘Gilwyn left of his own accord,’ he said sharply. ‘White-Eye had nothing to do with it.’

  The probing, single eye turned to Lorn angrily. ‘Who in all the hells are you?’ he growled.

  White-Eye put up her hand. ‘Lorn, don’t. .’

  ‘I am Lorn, King of Norvor,’ declared Lorn. ‘And for a knight so devoted to his queen, you speak like a peasant.’

  ‘What?’ sputtered Lukien. He laughed in disbelief. ‘You are Lorn the Wicked? I say prove it.’

  ‘Lukien, stop now,’ ordered White-Eye. ‘He is who he claims. He is Lorn.’

  Lorn held his ground. ‘The King of Norvor.’

  ‘The King of Norvor is dead,’ hissed Lukien. ‘Run off his throne by Jazana Carr.’

  ‘He is Lorn!’ spat Eiriann.

  ‘Stop this!’ White-Eye shouted, getting between them. ‘Lukien, you do not understand. You have been gone; you don’t know what has happened.’

  ‘Then tell me!’

  ‘Lorn came to us with others across the desert,’ said White-Eye. ‘He helped us. He helped me, Lukien!’ The Kahana carefully took Lukien’s hand again and gently led him away. ‘Let me explain it all to you.’

  ‘What do you mean, he put Lorn in charge?’ Lukien blared. In the tiny, private chamber, his voice boomed. ‘I don’t believe it. Gilwyn is smarter than that.’

  White-Eye remained standing before him. All of them stood, in fact, including Lorn, who stayed close to White-Eye as he stared angrily at Lukien. With the three of them in the chamber, the room was hot with emotion. White-Eye had remained remarkably calm. Lukien, on the other hand, could not believe his ears.

  ‘Gilwyn saw no other choice,’ White-Eye explained. ‘Jador needed a leader, and I could not do it. Not then.’

  ‘Why not?’ Lukien pressed. He had never seen White-Eye so confident. She seemed the perfect queen. ‘You are your father’s daughter, White-Eye. Jador is your birthright, not his.’

  Lorn bristled as Lukien jabbed a finger toward him. ‘I’ve made no claims on Jador.’

  Lukien ignored him. ‘Explain this to me, White-Eye, because I’m starting to think I am dreaming all of this! You were blinded by Kahldris, so Gilwyn went after him?’

  ‘He wanted revenge,’ said Lorn.

  ‘And you let him seek it?’ Lukien turned with a hiss. ‘I know you, Lorn. I fought against you when Jazana Carr had you running with your tail between your legs! You’re a brigand and a butcher. Of course you would encourage a boy like Gilwyn to seek revenge. Of course you would!’

  ‘I did no such thing,’ said the Norvan. He was a big man, who despite his age still looked capable of combat. ‘Nor did I ask for the task of training your queen. Minikin herself asked me to do so.’

  ‘Minikin asked you?’ erupted Lukien. It was too unbelievable. ‘Why would she do that?’

  ‘Because I needed him!’ said White-Eye. ‘Because I was broken by my blindness and no one else could help me. Lorn was a king once. He knew what I needed to do to protect Jador.’

  ‘Ah,’ sighed Lukien, ‘now I see. Those battlements along the wall — he did that, didn’t he?’

  Lorn stood his ground. ‘Jador was like a
lamb ready for the wolves,’ he said. ‘The city could barely defend itself. Someone had to change that.’

  ‘And you’re just the man to make a city ready for siege,’ snarled Lukien. ‘White-Eye, this man is using you! He’s duped you, and Gilwyn. But I can’t believe he’s fooled Minikin, too.’

  ‘We know Lorn’s history, Lukien,’ White-Eye assured him. ‘But you don’t know what he has done for us.’ She paused, preparing herself. ‘Aztar is dead, Lukien.’

  Lukien softened. ‘No one told me that,’ he said. ‘What happened?’

  ‘He had changed,’ said White-Eye, her face brightening with a smile. ‘He helped Gilwyn across the desert. He defended us from Baralosus of Ganjor. That is how he died.’

  ‘Aztar did that?’ The claim was unbelievable to Lukien, who had fought the minions of the desert prince many times. ‘I don’t understand. Why would Baralosus attack?’

  ‘Because he had designs on Jador from the starts,’ said Lorn, openly contemptuous of Lukien’s ignorance. ‘And because his daughter Salina came here for sanctuary.’

  ‘We would not give her up, Lukien,’ added White-Eye. ‘She helped us too many times for us to turn her over.’

  ‘So? What happened?’

  ‘Your Kahana stood up to them,’ declared Lorn, sounding surprisingly proud. ‘You see? She is not the little girl you left behind, Sir Lukien. And Jador is not the same, either.’

  Lukien fought to stem his simmering temper. Too much was coming at him to make sense of, and Lorn clearly had the advantage. White-Eye’s adoration of him was frightening.

  ‘White-Eye, listen to me now,’ he said, mustering his calmest voice. He took the girl aside to press his point. ‘Your blindness has frightened you. And from what you’ve told me of Minikin, she is too distraught herself to be much use to anyone. But I tell you what I know in my heart — this wretched man is not the saviour you want him to be. Let us touch the bottom of this swamp and see the truth! I fought against him for years. I was in Norvor and I know him.’

  ‘But you do not, Lukien,’ said White-Eye sadly. ‘You have been gone.’

  The accusation stung Lukien. ‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘I’ve been gone too long. And maybe I should never have left you. If I’d been here to protect you-’

  ‘Stop.’ White-Eye found his face and put a finger on his lips. She smiled at him. ‘You could not protect me. No one could. What Kahldris did to me was beyond anyone’s power to stop. I tried to tell that to Gilwyn, Lukien. I never wanted him to go.’

  The profound loss in her voice proved her wounded love. Confused, Lukien relented.

  ‘I have to much to tell you,’ he lamented. ‘I wanted this homecoming to be a happy one.’

  ‘It is, Shalafein,’ said White-Eye. She pulled him down to her, kissing his forehead. ‘My Shalafein. I never doubted you would come back. And we will celebrate! We will feast and you will tell me everything that has happened to you.’ Her hand slipped down to his belt, feeling for his sword. ‘This is it. This is the sword.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Lukien darkly. ‘The Sword of Angels.’

  White-Eye grinned. ‘I wish I could see it.’ She turned to Lorn. ‘Lorn, is it very grand?’

  Lorn eyed the weapon at Lukien’s side. ‘It is sheathed,’ he said sourly. There was a trace of envy in his tone.

  ‘Will you let me touch it, Lukien?’ asked White-Eye.

  Lukien hesitated. ‘White-Eye. . no. Not yet. I want to speak with Minikin. She should be the first to see it.’

  White-Eye retreated from him. ‘I have sent for her. She will want to speak to you as well.’ Her blank eyes searched for the sword at his belt, then filled with sadness. ‘When will you tell us what happened to you, Lukien? We have waited so long.’

  Her sincerity overwhelmed him. ‘I have come so far,’ he groaned, turning away from them both to stare at the stone wall. ‘All of this you’ve told me — I didn’t expect any of it.’

  ‘But you have the sword,’ Lorn pointed out.

  ‘So? What of it?’

  ‘You have found what you quested for. Now you have the means to defeat Baron Glass.’

  ‘What?’ Puzzled, Lukien stepped toward Lorn. ‘Why would you know about the sword anyway? No one in Jador knows I was looking for it.’ He searched White-Eye for an answer. ‘How did you know?’ He thought for a moment. ‘Was it Minikin? Did she find out somehow?’

  White-Eye was clearly keeping something from him. Lorn shifted toward her. ‘You should tell him,’ he suggested.

  ‘Tell me? Tell me what?’ queried Lukien.

  ‘Lukien, there is someone else here to see you,’ said White-Eye reluctantly. ‘A man from Nith. He came to us some weeks ago, bearing a letter from Aric Glass.’

  ‘Thorin Glass’ son,’ said Lorn.

  ‘I know who he is,’ snorted Lukien. ‘I fought with him in Koth. White-Eye, what’s in the letter? What does it say?’

  ‘I do not know, Lukien. The messenger who brought it has orders not to give it to anyone but you. He said that you would return here. He was sure of it.’

  Lukien grinned at the news. ‘Because Aric knows about the sword. That means he’s still alive.’

  ‘Alive, and waiting for you in Nith,’ said Lorn. The old king looked grave. ‘He thinks you mean to march on Koth again. Do you?’

  ‘Of course.’ Lukien patted his sword confidently. ‘I have this with me now.’

  Lorn drew a breath of anticipation. ‘Then I want to go with you, Sir Lukien.’

  White-Eye’s face collapsed. Lukien looked at Lorn in shock.

  ‘Why?’ he growled.

  ‘To fight with you, to help you free your land and my own,’ said Lorn. ‘Jazana Carr usurped me, Sir Lukien. She stole my soul from me.’

  Lukien laughed. ‘For revenge, then? Forget it.’

  ‘But I can help you! I can fight, and there are still men in Norvor who would follow me. I can call them to your side.’ Lorn grew excited. ‘Even if you have the sword, you’ll still have to fight an army to get to Baron Glass.’

  ‘You forget yourself, King Lorn,’ Lukien mocked. ‘These Jadori may not know you, but I do. I would never let you have Norvor again. Better that Jazana Carr should let it rot.’

  Thunder flashed across Lorn’s face. ‘You cannot keep me here,’ he seethed.

  ‘Would you leave us so easily?’ asked White-Eye, hurt by Lorn’s words.

  ‘Not easily,’ said Lorn. He softened as he looked at her. ‘White-Eye, look at you! You are a queen now, a real Kahana! You don’t need me anymore. Let me go with your blessing.’

  ‘It’s not up to her,’ said Lukien. ‘It’s up to me, and I say no.’ He moved toward the exit, angry suddenly and no longer wanting to talk to either of them. ‘White-Eye, I want to speak to Minikin,’ he said.

  Looking forlorn in the light of the lanterns on the wall, White-Eye nodded. ‘She will be here. Perhaps tomorrow.’

  ‘Good,’ Lukien snapped. ‘I don’t want to be bothered until then.’

  Not really sure where he was going, Lukien left the tiny chamber, his long-anticipated homecoming ruined.

  66

  In the main pool of the palace bathhouse, Lukien luxuriated in the warm, perfumed water, his arms stretched along the marble edge, keeping his chin just above the surface. Steam rose up from the placid pool, disappearing in wisps as it floated toward the domed ceiling. Tall columns lined the walls of the vast chamber, and the pool itself licked at them, surrounding them and stretching out to the dark edges of the bathhouse. There were five pools of crystal water in the house, but this one — the main pool — was by far the largest. Here, the water ranged in depth from many feet to just a few inches, so that the youngest members of the royal household could enjoy a bath as well. Lukien rested somewhere in the middle, still able to feel the bottom of the pool on his backside. He had forgotten how good it felt to relax and do nothing. The waters of the bathhouse washed away cares and woes as easily as desert dust.

  Architectur
ally, the bathhouse was splendid, like everything in the palace. Kahan Kadar had never spared expenses while building his home, and the bathhouse reflected his good taste. Usually, the baths were filled with people, but today they had abandoned the warm waters, leaving them for Lukien to enjoy. The solitude did not bother Lukien in the least. He had only been in Jador for a day, but already he longed to be alone.

  No, he told himself, closing his one eye and sighing. That wasn’t quite true. He had missed White-Eye and all the others, but her news had left him distraught and he no longer cared to speak with her about his long trek across the world. All the things he had seen and done — these were things to share with Gilwyn. But Gilwyn wasn’t here. Lukien let his naked body float in the steaming pool, feeling the warm waters untie the knots in his weary muscles.

  His eye opened, and Lukien saw the dark end of the bathhouse shrouded in shadows. Around him, gurgling water soothed him with its music as it tumbled over fountains and rocks. The mosaic patterns on the ceiling calmed him with its colours of gold and coral. Protectively, he glanced over to where his clothing sat in a nearby pile. Along with his shirt and trousers lay the Sword of Angels, looking unloved in its battered sheath. Within an arms length of Lukien, the sword still managed to keep him alive, unlike the Eye of God which he still wore around his neck. Thinking of the amulet, Lukien lifted it off its chest and held it up, dripping wet. He saw his face reflected in the gold, wavy and curious, lit by the light of its ever-glowing ruby.

  ‘Amaraz,’ he said, ‘are you still there?’

  As always, there was no answer from the Akari. Lukien laughed.

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Soon you’ll be back in Minikin’s care. And I will be done with you forever.’

  The prospect made him strangely sad. He had never liked Amaraz, nor really appreciated the gift the spirit had given him. Now, though, the thought of parting with the great spirit made him pensive. He let go of the amulet, letting it sink back onto his chest. Like the rest of him, the skin of his chest bore numerous scars. Looking at his naked body, Lukien grimaced. There were battles yet to fight, still more scars to bear. But he was almost done.