The Sword Of Angels eog-3

by John Marco

  ‘Almost,’ he whispered drowsily. ‘Almost. .’

  His eye began to close again, then he caught a glimpse of something at the other end of the bathhouse. A figure moved through the shadows, peering out its little head toward him. The unmistakable coat swam with colour, and the pointed ears twitched. Minikin stepped out from behind one of the columns to grin at him. Lukien smiled back at her, pleased beyond words to see the mistress.

  ‘I’m not wearing anything,’ he warned jokingly.

  Minikin snorted at his modesty. ‘Please, Lukien. You are still a baby to me.’

  ‘Come ahead, then,’ he bade. ‘If you don’t mind getting wet.’

  Moving like a cat, Minikin picked her way along the edge of the pool, avoiding the puddles of water that had collected on the marble. Her colourful coat shined as the tones of the water reflected in its strange fabric. Her quick movements gave her a bouncing look as she loped toward him. Lukien, unmoved by his nudeness, merely sat up a little to greet her, not bothering to cover himself at all. It was true what she had told him — despite his age, he was a comparative infant to the ancient Minikin, and there was nothing about a man’s physique she hadn’t seen a thousand times. There were no benches in this part of the bathhouse, no place at all for the little woman to sit. When she reached Lukien, she stood over him, smiling.

  ‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ said Lukien. ‘Forgive me if I don’t get up. Believe me, it is good to see you, Minikin.’

  Her happy expression filled the sparkling chamber. ‘I came as quickly as I could. Lukien. .’ She stooped and put her hand to his face. ‘Sweet Shalafein. I cannot tell you how my heart leapt to hear you had come back.’

  Lukien choked back his melancholy. ‘I ache, Minikin. I have been to every part of this world, and now all I want to do is lie here.’

  ‘Then do that,’ she said soothingly. ‘Take your ease.’ She went to her knees, ignoring the water soaking through her garments, and ran her fingers through his hair like a mother might. ‘I’ve spoken to White-Eye. She told me what has happened to you.’

  Lukien nodded. He hadn’t told White-Eye everything, but enough. ‘Did she tell you I’ve been here all day? I’m soaked through my skin and I still don’t want to get out.’

  ‘White-Eye is afraid you have a stone in your shoe over her,’ said Minikin. ‘You are angry, I can tell.’

  ‘No. Well, yes!’ Lukien sank deeper. ‘Shouldn’t I be? I came home expecting things the way they were. Things have changed and I don’t like it.’

  Minikin sat back on her haunches. ‘You were gone a very long time, Lukien. White-Eye did the best she could without you here. So did I. So did Gilwyn.’

  ‘I’m still angry,’ muttered Lukien.

  ‘And you wanted to unburden yourself on me. Very well. I am here.’ Minikin kicked off her shoes and began rolling up her pant legs. Positioning herself at the edge of the pool, she let out an exclamation of pleasure as she dipped her small white feet into the water. ‘Oh, that’s good.’

  She looked comical sitting there, threading her fingers through the water and glowing ecstatically. Lukien knew she meant to soothe his anger.

  ‘You look different, Minikin,’ he said seriously. ‘Even you’ve changed. You look older. To be true, I didn’t think that was possible.’

  ‘I have been through a journey of my own, Lukien,’ said Minikin. ‘Without ever stepping foot out of Jador.’ She considered her feet as she spoke, unwilling to look at him straight. ‘Aztar is dead. You know that already. And White-Eye told you of how he attacked us?’

  Lukien nodded. ‘I should have been here. Aztar was always after me. He was scum.’

  ‘No,’ said Minikin. ‘His heart was hard, but it changed. He was burned in a fire at the battle, and he was sure the fire came from Vala. He was sure it was a sign that he had wronged us and that we were favoured by Vala. But the fire didn’t come from Vala. It came from me. It was Akari fire, and I summoned it. I had to save Jador; I know that. And yet. .’ She closed her eyes. ‘It plagues me, Lukien. It was heinous.’

  ‘It was necessary, Minikin,’ Lukien assured her. ‘White-Eye told me all about it.’

  ‘Necessary, yes, I know. But you see, that doesn’t mend my heart.’ Minikin looked at him as though pleading for an answer. ‘It was a slaughter, and no matter how many days go by I cannot forget it.’

  ‘I think I know that feeling,’ said Lukien gently. ‘I would be lying if I told you it will pass. But it does get better, Minikin. With time.’

  ‘I have less time than you think, Lukien. I am old. Look at me!’

  ‘I am looking,’ said Lukien cheerfully. ‘I still think you’re beautiful.’

  Minikin laughed, even blushed. Then she saw the pile of clothes and the sword placed gently upon them. ‘So, that is it. You haven’t told White-Eye much about it. Will you tell me, Lukien?’

  There was so much to tell, Lukien wasn’t sure where to begin. So he blurted out, ‘Cassandra told me about the sword. It’s just like you told me all those months ago. We don’t just disappear when we die. We go on.’

  ‘Cassandra came to you?’ Minikin was truly interested now. ‘When did this happen?’

  ‘When I fought Thorin,’ said Lukien. ‘When he nearly killed me! He could have killed me easily, but he left me dying in the road. That’s when Cassandra came to me.’

  Minikin’s almond eyes widened. ‘I believe you, of course. And she told you about the sword? She told you to go to the Serpent Kingdom?’

  ‘She did,’ said Lukien, then settled back to tell Minikin everything. The little woman listened, enthralled, as he told about his trip to Kaliatha, the dead city of the Akari, and how he had come to know the spirit of Raivik. He told Minikin about Jahan, too, and how his friend had gone with him to Torlis and about his wretched end in the mouth of a rass. But most importantly, he told Minikin about Lahkali, the Red Eminence who he trained and who he missed terribly now. And finally, about the Story Garden. ‘Cass is there right now,’ said Lukien, ‘waiting for me.’

  Minikin was enchanted. She regarded him with astonishment, wanting more. ‘That’s beautiful. Lukien, I am so happy for you. To know that Cassandra still lives! I told you that, but to have it proven, well, that must amaze you.’

  ‘I have been amazed so many times since meeting the Inhumans, I don’t know what to feel anymore. Except to say that I miss her. I miss her, Minikin.’

  ‘I know,’ said the mistress gently. She looked at the sword again, eager for Lukien to unsheathe it. ‘And what of Malator? When will I meet him?’

  ‘That should be easy for you. Can’t you feel him?’

  Minikin concentrated. ‘Yes. He is strong, like Amaraz.’

  ‘Malator is my Akari now, Minikin, in a way that Amaraz never was. Still. .’ Lukien picked the amulet up from his chest. ‘I will miss him. He never spoke to me. Well, he did, but only when I meant to give him to Lahkali. I enjoyed seeing him angry, I’ll tell you that!’

  ‘And this Malator — tell me what he is like.’

  Lukien smirked as he recalled Malator’s boyish face. ‘He’s hardly what I expected. He acts like a child sometimes. He’s not at all like Kahldris, I don’t think.’

  ‘But he can beat Kahldris?’

  ‘That’s what he claims,’ Lukien sighed. ‘I have to believe him.’

  ‘Good,’ said Minikin. ‘It is like that when you have an Akari — you must believe in him. And you will not be alone when you head north again. Alsadair the Nithin will be with you, and Ghost, too.’

  Lukien perked up. ‘Ghost? I haven’t seen him yet. Not that I would! He’s probably listening to us right now. He means to go with me? He told you that?’

  ‘He begged me, and I agreed,’ said Minikin. ‘We are all at risk from Kahldris. If there is anyone else you want to go with you, you have only to ask. I was thinking of Greygor.’

  ‘No,’ said Lukien. ‘I appreciate that, but Greygor should stay here to protect Grimhold.’


  ‘Baron Glass will still have an army to face, Lukien. You should consider that.’

  Lukien did consider it. He had thought of little else, in fact. But Greygor was the guardian of Grimhold, a sacred duty. ‘I won’t take him away,’ said Lukien. ‘But I will take Ghost with me. And Alsadair, too.’

  ‘What do you think of him?’ asked Minikin.

  ‘Well, he’s loyal, that’s for sure. He brought me that letter at his own peril. I tell you, Minikin, I can’t wait to see Aric again. He’s the way his father used to be. He reminds me of Gilwyn, even.’

  ‘White-Eye tells me there will be an army of your own waiting for you in Nith. Do you believe that?’

  ‘I believe Aric,’ said Lukien. ‘He wouldn’t have written me anything that wasn’t true. And you know what else? I believe in Malator.’ At last Lukien removed the amulet from around his neck. ‘I don’t need this anymore, Minikin. It’s time you took it back.’

  But Minikin did not take the Eye of God from Lukien. She merely studied it as it spun on its chain. ‘Giving it back to me must feel like a great burden being lifted.’

  ‘It does. Take it, please.’

  ‘It’s caused you so much trouble. But it’s also brought you life.’

  ‘I know. I’m thankful for that.’

  ‘And yet you still think of returning to Cassandra.’

  Lukien lowered the amulet. ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘Nor did you have to. Lukien, you wear your thoughts on your sleeve even when you’re naked! You mean to return to her when you are done with Baron Glass, is that so?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Lukien, unashamed. ‘Why shouldn’t I? I’m done being a pawn of demons and gods. After I’ve dealt with Thorin, I’m going to make my own choices.’

  ‘What will happen to the sword then? What will you do with it?’

  Lukien looked away. ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘If you get rid of it, you will die.’

  There was an ugly pause between them. Lukien held out the amulet again. Again, Minikin refused it.

  ‘I want you to keep it,’ she told him. ‘Take it with you to Liiria.’

  ‘Why? Malator will keep me alive.’

  ‘Keep it,’ Minikin advised. ‘There’s a battle brewing, Lukien. Even if you don’t need it, someone else might.’

  Thinking of his friend Ghost, Lukien saw the mistress’ logic. ‘If that’s what you want,’ he said, and tossed the amulet unceremoniously onto his pile of clothes. ‘I’m going to do my best, Minikin. Malator thinks he can beat his brother. I promise you, we will try. And hopefully find Gilwyn there in one piece.’

  ‘I think,’ said Minikin, ‘that Baron Glass will not harm Gilwyn.’

  ‘He’s a madman now. There’s no telling what he’ll do.’ Lukien tried to curb his tongue, but couldn’t. He added, ‘You should have known better than to let him go, Minikin. And then you let that snake Lorn take over for him!’

  ‘Lukien-’

  ‘No,’ Lukien snapped, ‘let me have my say. Do you think you know Lorn? You don’t. I don’t care how many roofs he’s put up for the Seekers or what a good teacher he was to White-Eye. That all might be true. But if you knew his history, really knew it, you would never have taken the chance you did. You’re lucky to all still be alive.’ Lukien sank back broodingly into the pool. ‘A lot of Norvans weren’t so fortunate.’

  He expected Minikin to argue with him. She did not. Instead she rose from the edge of the pool, took off the coat that always covered her, and dropped the fabulous garment next to his own clothes, exposing the Eye of God that she wore around her neck. Hers contained Lariniza, the sister of Amaraz, but looked identical to Lukien’s amulet in every way.

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked Lukien.

  ‘Making myself comfortable,’ said Minikin. She began rolling up her sleeves.

  ‘How long are you planning to stay?’ Lukien quipped.

  ‘That depends on you, Lukien. You see, I am not leaving until you change your mind about Lorn.’

  ‘No, Minikin!’

  ‘Oh, don’t misunderstand. You don’t have to like him. I’m not expecting that. But I want you to take him with you.’

  ‘Fate above, no!’

  ‘You’re being petulant,’ crooned Minikin. She sat down at the poolside again, returning her white feet to the water. ‘Lorn doesn’t belong here. He is restless. He needs to return north.’

  ‘What about his family?’

  Minikin darkened a little. ‘They will remain here.’

  ‘Even his daughter?’ prodded Lukien. ‘I know about her, Minikin. White-Eye told me. Lorn wanted her to have a place in Grimhold.’

  ‘There is no place for her,’ said Minikin sadly. ‘But we can care for her here. Lorn cannot. He is a restless tiger, and Jador is a cage to him. He must return home to Norvor.’

  ‘And then what?’ raved Lukien. ‘Fight Jazana Carr for power?’

  ‘He must do what he must do, Lukien. That is not for us to decide.’

  This time, Lukien pulled himself out of the pool nearly completely. ‘I won’t do it,’ he said. ‘I won’t help Lorn get his throne back.’

  ‘He is a fighter, Lukien. Let him help you.’

  ‘He’s a butcher, Minikin!’

  ‘What if he’s changed?’

  ‘Come on,’ scoffed Lukien. ‘Men like him don’t change.’

  ‘No?’ Minikin grinned as she kicked water at him. ‘Some people said the same about you once, Lukien.’

  Her words cut him, making him drift back into the pool. ‘That’s different. I never did the things Lorn has done.’

  ‘I know,’ said Minikin softly. ‘But you were not here to see the way he helped us. When Aztar attacked, he was there to battle with us. And when White-Eye needed him, he taught her what it means to be a ruler. He stood up to Baralosus, right alongside the rest of the Jadori, ready to die for the city. I had the same doubts about him once, Lukien. That’s why I am asking you to trust me.’

  ‘Minikin, please. .’

  ‘Can you do that, Lukien? Can you trust me?’

  ‘I always trust you. You know I do. But this. .’ Lukien clamped his fists together. ‘It makes no sense to me. None of this does!’

  ‘Lorn will leave here, with or without you, Lukien. Even now he prepares to leave us. Better that it should be with you, don’t you think so? It will give you a chance to know him better.’

  The last thing in the world Lukien wanted was to know King Lorn the Wicked. The prospect of riding north with him made Lukien’s teeth hurt. And yet, there was nothing he could do to change Minikin’s mind. Despite her stature, she was made of steel.

  ‘This is going to be a very long trip,’ he groaned. ‘Do me a favour, will you please?’

  ‘Anything, Shalafein.’

  ‘Will you let me have this bath in peace?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Minikin, then picked up her coat and left.

  67

  Lorn moved cat-like through the darkened chamber, past the form of the sleeping Eiriann toward the little chamber where his daughter slept. The hour ticked past midnight, and the halls of the palace groaned with hollowness. With the long day behind him, Lorn stifled a yawn, longing to lay himself down to bed. It had been an eventful day, full of planning, and his eyes watered with sleep. He paused, hoping his squeaking boots would not wake Eiriann, who slept soundly in the sheets, looking beautiful as a shaft of moonlight caressed her face. Eiriann, young and perfect, had taken to his bed without shame, leaving behind the mores of her past life and adopting both Lorn and Poppy into her world. She was a fine woman, so much like the wife Lorn had buried, and he wondered at the good fortune that had brought him such a lovely lady. Full of fire, Eiriann had refused to speak to him the last few days, angered by his decision to head north with Lukien and the others.

  Why couldn’t she understand?

  Lorn looked at her, admiring her. She was always such a vocal woman, it seemed strange to him to see her so silent. He not
iced her more closely now, in ways he had never stopped to see before. Her neck pulsed with every breath. He eyes flittered, deep with sleep. She would be fine without him, even if he never returned. But what of Poppy?

  Lorn turned back to the nursery, tip-toeing toward his daughter’s alcove. The nursery sat just across from their main chamber, a comfortable little nook perfect for the baby girl. There was no door to the chamber, just a curtain that separated the two rooms. Lorn pushed the curtain aside, closing it behind him as he entered. Poppy slept inside her wooden crib, a crib he had made for her himself not long after arriving in Jador. She had grown long since then; she could walk now, though not well. Her blindness and deafness — the very ailments that had driven Lorn to Jador in the first place — still persisted, frustrating Poppy as she grew more aware. Tonight, though, his daughter didn’t fuss. She slept angelically in the crib, her slack, pretty face up toward the ceiling. Like a doll, her smooth skin glowed with the chamber’s tender light. Her small chest moved almost imperceptibly with the in and out of her tiny puffs of breath.

  Lorn hovered soundlessly over her crib, staring down at her. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, but she was far too young to understand. She was remarkable, strong like her mother. She had survived the long trek across the desert because she was made of steel. Even deaf and blind, she would grow into a fine woman someday.

  ‘I want to tell you all those things,’ Lorn whispered carefully. His voice barely carried down to the sleeping girl. ‘I want you to know me, and that I thought the best of you.’

  In Norvor, when he had been a king, some had argued for her murder. She was a burden, his advisors had told him, and could never be anything more. What kind of princess could she possibly make? Lorn remembered those words now, and how blithely he had said the same himself of other unfortunate infants. They were weak, weren’t they? They couldn’t be Norvans, because Norvans were strong.

  ‘But you are strong, little Poppy,’ said her father. ‘Never let anyone tell you otherwise. Never think yourself the weaker. You are my daughter. Your blood is my blood, and my blood is like fire. You are born to greatness.’ Lorn placed his palm lightly on the girl’s chest. ‘Don’t forget me.’