The Devil's armour eog-2

by John Marco

  ‘Open the door,’ he boomed. ‘I came upon your farm just now and need help.’

  Feet shuffled closer. The iron handle of the door turned and the door opened a crack. The little woman with the dark eyes peered out. Her mouth hung open in concern. Quickly she sized up Lorn, but by the time she saw his dagger he’d wedged his foot into the jamb.

  ‘No, don’t run,’ said Lorn as the woman jumped back. His free hand sprang up and seized the door. The woman backpedalled into the house.

  ‘What do you want?’ she demanded. Her boy child sprang from his chair to defend her. A bread knife on the table leaped into her hand. Lorn pushed open the door and stood on the threshold.

  ‘Now we both have knives,’ he said. ‘But I know how to use mine.’

  ‘Who are you?’ the woman spat.

  So far no one else had appeared. Lorn blessed his good luck. ‘I’m a traveller, not from around here. I came upon your farm and saw your lights.’

  ‘So?’ The woman’s angry eyes glared at Lorn as she pulled her son by the sleeve to get behind her.

  ‘Put the knife down,’ said Lorn. ‘You cannot harm me. You are alone here?’

  The woman didn’t know how to answer. ‘There are men who work my fields. They’ll be back in a moment.’

  The waver in her voice told Lorn she was lying. ‘You’re alone with no one to help you, and what I want of you won’t take much time. Put down the knife. If you do you won’t be harmed. Or the children.’

  ‘Leave my mother alone!’ shrieked the boy.

  Lorn stepped closer. ‘Quiet your son.’

  ‘Don’t you touch him!’ hissed the woman, brandishing her knife higher.

  ‘Put it down,’ said Lorn evenly. She saw the resolve in his face and was frightened.

  ‘Great Fate, leave us,’ she pleaded.

  ‘I will, soon,’ said Lorn. ‘But I have need of you.’

  ‘Need of. .?’ The woman blanched. ‘No, please. .’

  ‘Lower your knife and come to the stable with me. I promise you, you and your children will not be hurt, and when you are done I will be on my way.’

  Dread suffused the woman’s face. For a moment she was unable to speak. The knife trembled in her grip. Lorn knew what she was thinking and groaned.

  ‘Gods, woman, I am no rapist. But I am impatient. Now put down that damned knife and come with me.’

  Confused, the woman remained still.

  ‘For the sake of your children, get yourself out here!’

  ‘All right,’ the woman moaned. ‘All right. Your promise, though — you’ll leave us unharmed? The children especially?’

  Lorn’s patience snapped. He walked up to the woman, grabbed her arm and shook the knife from her grip. ‘I gave my word and that is enough for any woman,’ he snarled. Dragging her toward the door, he turned to the boy and said, ‘Don’t run for help. Don’t say a word. Look after the little one.’

  The boy stared, horrified. ‘Mother!’

  Lorn slammed the door behind him. Outside, he released the woman and pushed her toward the stable. She shivered in the cold. Clearly she didn’t believe his claims, and expected rape. But she was alone and Lorn had the knife, so she obeyed, walking shakily toward the stable with her hand at her mouth. Lorn kept close behind her, hating himself for the fear on her face.

  ‘Inside there,’ he said, and opened the stable doors wide for her, leaving them that way to let in the most light. Wary, the woman went inside, her arms wrapped about herself. When they were both within the stable, Lorn told her to stay where she was, then hurried to the corner where he’d left Poppy. The infant was still there. She cooed at his touch as he lifted her.

  ‘A baby?’ The woman was flabbergasted. ‘Is that yours?’

  ‘My daughter,’ Lorn explained. ‘She’s why I brought you here. She needs you.’

  ‘What for?’ asked the woman. She came no closer.

  ‘She hungers. You have a babe about her age. You can feed her.’

  It was a ghastly idea and Lorn knew it. The woman’s mouth dropped.

  ‘Do not refuse me,’ he warned. ‘I have nowhere else to go, and the child needs milk. I will not let you say no to her.’

  ‘We have milk inside-’

  ‘No,’ said Lorn. ‘For two days she’s had nothing but water and bread and old meat. I’ve fed her garbage and now she needs milk. Real milk. Mother’s milk.’

  The woman cringed. ‘I cannot. Please don’t make me do this.’

  Suddenly Lorn realised how much he had frightened her. ‘My promise is good, woman. I want nothing from you but to feed my child. When that’s done I will be on my way, and you will be none the poorer.’ He held Poppy out to her. ‘Please.’

  ‘And if I don’t?’ said the woman. Lorn stared hard at her, and she knew the truth. ‘If I don’t you will harm me. Or my children.’ She snorted. ‘Beast.’

  ‘You see me clearly,’ said Lorn. ‘So then, if you won’t do it for my child, do it for your own.’ He gestured to the stool he had seen earlier. ‘There. Sit. I will look away if you wish.’

  There was little the woman could do. For a moment she considered her dismal options, but in the end she went to the stool as Lorn knew she would. She was driven by the same instinct as he — to save her children. When at last she sat down she held out her arms.

  ‘Give the child to me. You stay here with me while she feeds. I don’t want you anywhere near my children.’

  Lorn agreed and gave Poppy over to her. Amazingly, her anger slackened when she held the baby. She studied Poppy’s face, shaking her head. ‘You have this child out on a night so chill. You’re a very stupid man.’

  ‘And you are a very brave woman to speak so to me. Just feed the girl and keep quiet.’

  ‘Look away then, brute, and let me do this thing.’

  Angered by her insults, Lorn nevertheless turned to look outside the stable doors while the woman set to work. He listened to the soft noise of her unbuttoning, then her uncomfortable groans as Poppy latched on. It embarrassed him to be here like this, and he remembered with pain that he had been a king two days ago. Now he was lost in the Bleak Territories, forcing a woman in a stable to feed his daughter, the only family left to him. The sounds of Poppy suckling comforted him a little, though, and he took a breath to steel his resolve. Soon they would be out of Norvor. Then it was on to Liiria, where he could hide. In the chaos of that former kingdom, he knew Jazana Carr would never find him.

  ‘Your daughter is hungry,’ said the woman. There was mildness in her voice. ‘She’s a good baby. A gentle feeder.’

  Lorn grimaced. No one had told him that before, and he wasn’t sure what it meant. ‘She has great need of you, no doubt.’

  ‘She is quiet,’ said the woman. ‘And her expression is strange.’ She paused, then said, ‘Can this child see?’

  It was the question Lorn had dreaded. ‘I don’t know yet,’ he confessed. ‘She is deaf, that I know already. She can see shadows, I think. But she can eat, and that’s all that should concern you.’

  ‘Where is her mother?’

  ‘Dead.’

  Another pause. ‘A cruel world, especially for a child born like this one. I am sorry for her.’

  ‘Do not be sorry.’

  ‘I’m sorry that the girl has a brute for a father and no mother to learn from. I suppose she should be grateful you haven’t killed her yet.’

  Lorn suppressed his anger. ‘What is your name, woman?’

  She surprised him by answering quickly. ‘Gedena. What is yours?’

  ‘I won’t be telling you, so don’t ask again. Where is your husband? A woman with children shouldn’t be alone in these parts.’

  ‘No,’ chuckled the woman acidly. ‘You would know about that, wouldn’t you?’

  This time Lorn turned around just as she was switching breasts. The sight of her exposed bosom quelled his anger. She looked up at him. He stared. Seeing her softened him at once. She was beautiful in a way, because she wa
s feeding his child and because he missed Rinka so much. The woman named Gedena hefted Poppy higher to cover herself.

  ‘Look away,’ she said.

  Reluctantly, Lorn did so. ‘I am right, though,’ he said. ‘A woman should not be left alone. Your husband does you no good leaving you to yourself.’

  ‘You see this place? What kind of palace do you think it is? My husband has gone to earn money for us. He’s gone to fight with Jazana Carr’s army.’

  ‘What?’ It took a great effort for Lorn not to turn around again. ‘He’s left you to fight with that witch?’

  The woman guffawed. ‘You are a southerner. I can hear your accent. Jazana Carr pays good gold and diamonds for men who will fight. It’s more than the king has done for us. Your king, southerner.’

  Lorn bristled at the words. He was hated; he’d always known that. But word of his fall had yet to reach Gedena, it seemed. ‘Then your husband is a turncoat. He is not a man at all if he would fight for Jazana Carr.’

  ‘Enough!’ said Gedena. ‘I’ll not sit here and listen to you castigate my man, not while I feed your daughter milk meant for my own son!’ She rose. Lorn turned around and saw her bitter face. ‘If King Lorn is so just, why do you run north? Your king is a tyrant and a fool. Jazana Carr offers us freedom.’

  ‘She will enslave you with her diamonds,’ said Lorn. He took Poppy, now sated, from the woman. ‘She will change Norvor, and you will not like it when she does.’

  Gedena began buttoning up her shirt. ‘What would a man know of change? You come to my home and order me to feed your child. Because I am a woman I have no choice. You threaten my children and I have no choice. I yield to you because I must. But it will not be so when Jazana Carr triumphs. And when King Lorn hangs, I will celebrate.’

  Stung, Lorn looked at Poppy, then back at Gedena. The woman had done him a remarkable favour, but only for the sake of the girl. He wondered how willing she’d have been to feed a boy child.

  ‘Jazana Carr has poisoned your mind,’ he told her. ‘She will bring chaos to Norvor. Mark my words — you will miss King Lorn someday.’

  ‘I will not,’ said Gedena, ‘any more than I would miss a wart.’ She had dressed herself and now stood up tall, summoning her dignity. Obviously she was waiting for Lorn to leave. He dug into his pocket and fished out a silver coin, one of a handful he had stolen off the Rolgans. Gedena glowered when he held it out for her.

  ‘I am not a whore,’ she said. ‘What I did I did for the sake of the child.’

  ‘You have done me a service,’ Lorn said. ‘Take it, and if you have some milk I could take with me I would be glad for it. For the child, you see. We still have a long ride ahead of us.’

  ‘Now you would take goat milk? After I offered it to you before?’

  ‘Unless there are more willing teats on the road to Liiria, my daughter will starve without it. And I won’t take it; I will pay for it.’

  ‘Liiria?’ Gedena raised her eyebrows. ‘Why would you take the child there? I thought you wanted to escape war. You won’t find peace in Liiria.’

  Again Lorn went into his pocket and came out with another coin. ‘This one is to keep your tongue from wagging. My business in Liiria is my own. Now, will you fetch us what we need?’

  Gedena frowned, still unwilling to help.

  ‘Have I not kept my promise to you, woman? You and your children are unharmed. My daughter is fed and I can be on my way now. What I’ve paid you is more than you deserve, but you’ve shamed me into it. The milk would be fair recompense.’

  Reluctantly, Gedena nodded. ‘All right, but you bring that child to her doom, you know. Perhaps you don’t know this, being from the south — Liiria is at war with itself. There’s no safety there for you. If you’re a deserter-’

  ‘I am not a deserter, madam,’ said Lorn stiffly.

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘Perhaps not. But if you’re trying to make a better life for that girl, you should stay here in the north. There will be peace soon. Jazana Carr has promised it. The war is almost over.’

  More so than you think, thought Lorn. He said, ‘I cannot stay in Norvor. Now ask me no more questions.’

  Gedena nodded and went to the open doors. Immediately she wrapped her arms around herself again. ‘It’s a cold night.’ She turned and frowned at Poppy. ‘Too cold for you to be riding with that child. Fate above, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you should stay here until morning. Give that child some rest.’

  The offer stunned Lorn. ‘You’re asking me to sleep here?’

  ‘Unless you’re willing to leave the child. .’

  ‘No,’ said Lorn.

  Gedena smirked. ‘I didn’t think so. You can spend the night out here. I have blankets and a lamp for you. But let me bring the baby inside. She’ll be better off for it.’

  ‘I can look after my daughter well enough, thank you.’

  ‘No, you cannot. You had no milk or proper food for the child, and now you want to ride off with her in the darkness. Why are men such fools? Give me the child.’ She held out her hands. Lorn’s expression soured. She said, ‘Come, hand her here. In the morning you can take her back. Ride off to whatever god-cursed country you want, I won’t be able to stop you. But at least for tonight let the girl have some comfort.’

  It was all logical, and Lorn was too tired to argue. ‘Very well,’ he relented, and handed the child to Gedena. ‘What is it about women?’ he muttered. ‘You suckle a babe once and you act like it’s your own.’

  ‘We’re all mad, don’t you know that? Isn’t that what you southerners say?’

  ‘Not just southerners, madam.’

  Gedena adjusted the swaddling around Poppy. ‘Will you at least tell me the child’s name?’

  Lorn shook his head. ‘No. Take care of my daughter. See that she gets a good night’s sleep.’

  ‘I’ll bring in those blankets and lamp,’ replied Gedena. She paused a moment to frown at Lorn. ‘You are wrong about my husband, you know. He is a good man. Not like you.’

  ‘Then you’ll be glad to be rid of me,’ said Lorn. ‘Just remember what I said — keep my daughter safe.’

  Gedena turned without answering him and went back to her house. Lorn watched her the entire time, until she disappeared inside. He supposed he had done the right thing, but he still wasn’t certain. Poppy needed a warm place to sleep, that much was true. And this place seemed safe enough. He went back into the stable and laid himself down on the hay. He was wretchedly tired, and when he remembered his horse left outside he cursed.

  ‘Oh, damn it. .’

  He decided to rest just a moment before bringing the beast inside. Exhaustion quickly overtook him, though, and he was asleep before Gedena returned with the blankets.

  4

  Shalafein

  The heat of the desert made the horizon shimmer. An ever-present breeze whispered on the air. Up in its orange cradle, the merciless sun, god of this world, burned the sky.

  Lukien of Liiria looked out across the dunes, across what looked to be an endless sea of sand, squinting with his one eye against the mirages rising from the earth. From where he sat upon his horse it seemed the Desert of Tears was all there was, and all that had ever been. No longer could he see Jador or its splendid spires, nor sprawling, menacing Ganjor. There was only sand, forever shifting, devouring itself. Lukien unwrapped the gaka from around his face. He had never gotten used to the heavy desert clothes. He drew a hand across his forehead and wiped away a slick of sweat. The relentless sun blinded him.

  ‘I see nothing,’ he said to his companions. ‘You?’

  Beside him, Gilwyn Toms sat upon his kreel, a small female of the species he had named Emerald. Like all of them, Gilwyn wore a gaka to stave off the sun. The scales of his reptilian mount riffled anxiously through colours as she and her rider scanned the horizon.

  ‘Nothing,’ replied Gilwyn. He turned toward the men they’d brought with them, five Jadori warriors who had become their friends, and a single I
nhuman from Grimhold wrapped completely in robes so that every inch of his skin was covered. The dark-coloured Jadori were used to the desert sun and so did not hide themselves behind gakas as completely as the northerners did. Each of them watched the distant dunes. Together they had ridden a long way from Jador, hurrying out into the desert once news had reached them of the Seekers. It had gone on like this for months now, ever since word had escaped of Grimhold’s existence. So far, though, they hadn’t found the Seekers Princess Salina had warned them about.

  ‘We should go on,’ said the one from Grimhold. He was an albino named Ghost, and like many from his fabled home his abilities were remarkable. Because of this he had remained in Jador with Gilwyn, helping to protect the desert city. The same was true for Lukien. In a prior life he had been the Bronze Knight, and there were those who called him that still. But in Jador he had taken on a Jadori name — Shalafein, the Great Protector. Around his neck he wore the Eye of God. He could feel it now beneath his robes, pulsing lightly, its silent spirit keeping him alive. He belonged to Grimhold now, despite a life spent in Liiria. And because of the amulet, he was as much an Inhuman as Ghost.

  ‘Maybe it’s too late,’ remarked Gilwyn. ‘Maybe the raiders have gotten them.’

  It was the same dark conclusion they’d all come to, though Lukien hated to admit it. Riding out from Jador in a panicked rush was no way to save people, and they had already lost countless Seekers to the raiders. They were a vicious lot, Aztar’s men, willing to murder anyone they robbed, even children. It was why Lukien always tried so hard to save them, and why he always grieved when he couldn’t.

  In the last few months the Seekers had come across the desert in waves. It had been as Minikin had predicted. Once word reached the outside world of Grimhold’s existence, it had been impossible to stop them. No matter their ailments, the Seekers willingly braved the desert, seeking the magical place of healing. The blind and insane, the crippled, the deaf; they had all left their homes behind to find the place some of them called ‘Mount Believer’. It broke Lukien’s heart to see them. Like he and Gilwyn and their comrade Baron Glass, the Seekers were northerners, mostly. Some were even Liirians. But none had known the truth of Grimhold, or that Minikin, the mistress of that place, had not enough magic to save them. They knew only of the legend, and their desperate hope drove them onward.