The Devil's armour eog-2

by John Marco

  Machine?

  ‘It would be of no use to you, Jazana,’ said Thorin, remembering the remarkable catalogue machine Gilwyn had told him about. A thinking machine of sorts, holding bits of information from across the world. ‘No one can operate it, just the man who built it and he’s dead.’ Then he shrugged. ‘Perhaps the boy who was in Jador with me can run it, but. .’

  ‘Gilwyn Toms. I have not forgotten him, Thorin.’ Jazana wrestled with the sheets, pulling them over her bosom. ‘And Lukien? What of him?’

  The machine, Baron Glass, Kahldris pressed. What is this thing?

  Thorin ignored the Akari. ‘Lukien is well,’ he said simply. There seemed no reason to confess the knight was pursuing him, at least not yet. ‘He remains across the desert. Jazana, I still want Liiria.’

  The queen’s eyes widened. ‘What?’

  ‘Liiria is in chaos, and I came across the continent to save her. We can do it together.’

  ‘Thorin-’

  ‘Liiria needs a leader, Jazana. And not a man like Breck. She needs someone strong, like me. Someone that cannot be beaten.’ Thorin took her hand. ‘Liiria can be ours. Norvor, too.’

  Jazana blanched, staring in disbelief. ‘But the library defenders. .’

  ‘They will accept us or fight us,’ said Thorin. ‘And if they fight us, they will die.’

  ‘Die? Thorin, these men were your allies. What has happened to you?’

  Why was she looking at him so? Thorin grunted in frustration.

  ‘I have changed, Jazana. I am stronger now and I will have this madness no longer! Akeela ruined Liiria, and I must make it whole again. Who else can make this happen? Not even you could do such a thing, not without my help. It must be me. The Great Fate has decreed it.’

  Fear charged Jazana’s expression. She watched Thorin for a long time. ‘Thorin,’ she said finally, ‘I have longed for you to return. I haven’t admitted it to anyone. .’

  ‘I’m back now, Jazana. We can be together again.’

  ‘But this thing you wish to do — you were never that man. Thorin, I am afraid of you.’

  In another time, her words might have broken his heart. Now, though, his heart was stronger and impervious to pain. He reached out and pulled her close, putting her head on his chest and stroking her long hair.

  ‘Do not ever be afraid of me, Jazana,’ he said gently. ‘I am so much better than I was. I see things clearly now.’

  41

  Dark Designs

  In the netherworld between life and death, Kahldris watched Baron Glass with eyes of ether, studying him through the prism of their planes. He was pleased that the bond between them had sealed, pleased that Thorin Glass had accepted him so readily. But the demon was concerned, and so probed the baron’s mind for answers, even as he once again made love to the woman in the bed.

  What was this machine?

  A powerful thing, certainly. Powerful enough to interest the woman and make her move armies for it. Kahldris had already known of the library. A great place of learning, full of books and secrets. Like the Diamond Queen, Kahldris had his own designs on the place. Now, though, he was even more intrigued. What was this thing that could think for itself? Had Baron Glass hidden it from him, or had he simply thought it unimportant?

  As the baron again fell upon the woman, Kahldris seeped deeper into his mind, hiding there behind the lust, blowing the dust off the hidden corners of Glass’ brain. He whispered the word again and again, trying to focus Glass’ unconscious there.

  Machine. .

  The baron gave him very little. It was a thing Baron Glass had never seen, but the description had impressed him enough to remember it. The boy Gilwyn Toms had told him about it — a machine that could think. Kahldris, dredging ever deeper, found this remarkable. Ask it a question and it gives you an answer? It could find things, he realised. It had helped to find the amulets.

  Kahldris paused, completely detached from the lovemaking he had earlier enjoyed. His ancient mind considered his findings. The Eyes of God, those hated things of Amaraz and his sister, had been unearthed by this strange machine?

  Like a diver the demon submerged again, looking for clues, but found mostly emptiness. He discovered only what Thorin had already said — only Gilwyn Toms could operate the machine.

  The boy had been a threat to Kahldris. He was beloved by Baron Glass, and Kahldris was glad he had not joined the Bronze Knight in his search. Surely, someone Glass cared for so much would be a danger. But the notion of the machine tantalised Kahldris, for the Akari had not really told Glass everything about his Devil’s Armour. There was one thing that could scratch it, one thing alone that could penetrate its magic metal. Kahldris, however, did not know where it was hidden.

  Excitement bubbled up in the Akari being. Even as Baron Glass neared his lustful release, Kahldris considered things. In his mind was a game board with many pieces to be moved, each one consequential. He needed Gilwyn Toms now. How, then, to move the boy to action?

  The question consumed Kahldris. He watched in curiosity as the lovers finished their dance, soon falling back into each others’ arms. The sight of them together sparked the spirit’s thinking.

  Soon, he had forged a plan.

  42

  Lukien’s Promise

  Koth had changed, and Lukien surveyed the city with sadness.

  More than a year had passed since he had been back, and the memory of that brief homecoming haunted him. After being gone for sixteen years, he had returned to Koth for less than a day, but the havoc he had wreaked in that day had followed him across the world. Now, so many months later, he heard echoes of that day as he rode with Mirage past Lionkeep. They had ridden hard throughout the day, knowing that Koth was near, and had continued riding even as the sun fell. Lukien heard crickets coming to life in the darkness. Lionkeep seemed overrun with the insects, their peculiar music filling the night air. Behind him, Mirage trotted along on her pony, an animal they had purchased for her in Marn after her last horse had gone lame. Their hearty donkey sidled next to her, carrying their supplies. Mirage stayed very quiet as they toured the grounds of the ancient keep. In the distance they could see the great library, rising high above the city. Lionkeep was deserted now, but if Lukien tried hard enough he could hear the familiar clatter of soldiers and the gossiping servants.

  It had been necessary for him to detour to here. When they had first entered the city he had been keen on reaching the library quickly, but the sad sight of Lionkeep had summoned him. How, he wondered, had such a beautiful old place been left to moulder? Why had the world gone so completely mad?

  He had no answers, and Mirage offered no comfort. She was eager to be on her way. They were both exhausted from the ride. And Thorin was likely nearby, quite probably enjoying a meal and beer with Breck at the library. A thousand questions riddled Lukien’s mind, because he was afraid of facing Thorin and wondered what his old comrade Breck would think of him for trying to steal back the Devil’s Armour. It had surprised Lukien that Jazana Carr had remained mostly quiet through the winter. That much, at least, they had learned on the ride through Liiria. But he was sure that Breck had been glad to see Thorin and his amazing armour.

  Mostly, though, Lukien was sad for himself. The memories of Cassandra and Akeela were powerful here. Here he had played and fought with Akeela the way brothers do, and later he had watched him rise to become king. They were good days, mostly, and Lukien missed them. Being in Lionkeep reminded him what a mess his life had become.

  ‘Lukien,’ said Mirage gently. ‘It’s getting darker.’

  Lukien stopped his horse and looked around. They were in the middle of a wide-open courtyard overrun by weeds and neglect. The facade of Lionkeep’s front gate stood in the distance, barred and forbidden, but the ramparts and catwalks still towered freely overhead.

  ‘I was a boy here,’ he said, pointing up toward the catwalks. ‘I used to run along those with Akeela. Whenever his father saw us he’d shout for us to g
et down. He said we’d fall and break our necks.’

  Mirage slowly trotted up beside him. Her face was curious suddenly. ‘The king was like your father, too,’ she said. ‘That’s what Thorin told me.’

  ‘He was a good man,’ sighed Lukien. ‘If he had lived Akeela would never have become king.’

  ‘They say Akeela was a good man once,’ Mirage reminded him.

  ‘Aye, but not every good man makes a good king.’

  They rode on. Amid the ghosts and memories it was easy for Lukien to forget the darkness settling around them. He was mindful of their mission, of course, but something kept him in Lionkeep, the same indescribable feeling that had drawn him here rather than the library. He needed to see Lionkeep again. Instead of being driven from it, as he had been twice before, now at least he could linger. He could say a proper goodbye.

  He didn’t expect Mirage to understand that, though, and was not surprised by her anxious manner. Mirage jumped at every strange sound. Unseen animals along the high walls scratched and sent rocks tumbling down, all the sounds that never got noticed when the place was filled with people.

  ‘Lukien, I’m tired and hungry,’ moaned Mirage as they continued across the yard. ‘We’re wasting time!’

  ‘It doesn’t matter now,’ he replied.

  Another hour, even another day — neither would keep them from facing Thorin.

  ‘You just don’t want to see him,’ quipped Mirage. ‘You’re afraid.’

  ‘A little.’ Lukien rode on, not bothering to look at her. ‘You should be afraid, too.’

  ‘I’m not afraid of Thorin, Lukien. He loves me.’

  Was that a jibe, Lukien wondered? Love had not been a topic between them since their night in Marn. Now that they had reached Koth, however, that would surely change — unlike Lukien’s feelings for Mirage.

  He paused again and noticed a dark and empty field ahead. His eyes fixed on it horribly. Bent and tangled trees, looking dead from the long winter, struggled out of the gloom. The field went on for miles, stretching off into the countryside. Lukien took a deep breath, remembering the scent of apple blossoms.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Mirage.

  ‘It was an orchard,’ Lukien replied. He smiled in secret pleasure.

  Mirage shook her head. ‘Forget it. I’m not going in there.’ When Lukien didn’t reply, she took notice of his strange expression. ‘What are you thinking about?’

  Lukien turned his horse around. ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Something you wouldn’t understand.’

  The orchard held a memory he had never shared with anyone. It was there, lost among the apple trees, that he had first made love to Cassandra. Like children they had run off to be bad, but it had been so sweet that even the crushing aftermath of the act couldn’t dull its beautiful memory. As Lukien crossed back across the yard, he considered Cassandra and all she had meant to him. That was love, he realised.

  ‘Well, we’re here,’ he said crossly. He didn’t relish the duty, but knew the time had come. ‘After we find Thorin you’ll need to tell me what you want to do.’

  Mirage became pensive. They had spoken very little of her plans, for she still held out hope that they could remain together. It seemed not to matter to her that she had failed to win his love during their journey. Her persistence irked Lukien.

  ‘It’s time for you to decide,’ he told her. ‘We’re going on to the library. You know what that means, don’t you?’

  ‘Let us speak to Thorin first,’ Mirage suggested. ‘He may not be eager to return with you, Lukien.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I want this thing between us settled. Will you stay in the library? Or will you return to Grimhold with me?’

  Mirage refused to answer.

  ‘I don’t love you, girl!’

  Her face cracked with emotion.

  ‘Don’t,’ he warned her. ‘You’ve manipulated me enough. I brought you here. I kept you safe. I did my part!’

  She nodded hurriedly, catching her breath. ‘Yes, I know,’ she said. ‘But I have time yet, Lukien. You won’t be able to leave me. I know you won’t. I know you love me.’

  ‘I do not!’ Lukien stopped his horse roughly. ‘Why must you go on with this? Because I care for you? Because I was kind when you were scarred? That is not enough!’

  ‘It can be,’ Mirage said hopefully. ‘It can grow if you let it.’

  Lukien shut his eyes in frustration. ‘I love another, Mirage. You are beautiful, I admit it. But I am cursed. I can love no other.’

  When he opened his eyes she was looking at him. She was smiling, though she looked profoundly sad. ‘We belong together, Lukien. I love you, and I will not deny it or be afraid. I can help you if you’d let me.’

  ‘No,’ said Lukien. ‘It will never be that way.’

  Mirage turned from him and started riding off. ‘When the time comes, you won’t leave me, Lukien.’

  This time it was she who led the way, riding off toward the great library.

  In less than an hour they had reached the hill. Mirage quickly fell back into her silent state, too anxious and awed to speak. Where Lionkeep was desolate, the soaring library and its surroundings teemed with activity, and no one seemed to notice the two meagre-looking strangers straggling up the hill with a donkey. Though the argument with Mirage had soured Lukien’s mood, he brightened immediately when they reached Library Hill, happy to see it vital again, albeit drastically changed. The Cathedral of Knowledge no longer was a place of learning. Instead Breck and his Royal Chargers — who were everywhere — had transformed the structure into a fortress. Even before the full library came into view, Lukien could see the transformation. Breck had done an admirable job, better than he had imagined. Heartened, he rode on with a new sense of optimism.

  As they crested the hill they came at last to the main yard of the library. Though the sun had set, the yard was still alive with activity. Huge braziers had been set up on the ground, allowing the men, women, and even children to work by their warm light. Folks who were clearly from the surrounding villages hammered at weapons or groomed horses or fed livestock, all preparing for the coming war with Jazana Carr. Children ran through the yard, yelling excitedly as they played under the watchful gaze of older siblings, most of whom worked at some tedious yet enormously necessary task. Amid the activity soldiers rode horses and practised swordplay, most in the uniforms of Royal Chargers. None, however, took any notice of Lukien or Mirage.

  ‘They don’t even see us!’ Mirage laughed. Like Lukien, she had expected at least some resistance. She looked around the yard for Baron Glass. ‘I don’t see Thorin. .’

  ‘Can you imagine Thorin shoeing horses?’ Lukien asked, sure that his old comrade was inside the library with Breck and the officers. ‘Come on; we’ll ask around.’

  Driving his mount toward a group of young soldiers, Lukien hailed them. They looked up from their work mending bowstrings with some annoyance.

  ‘You need something?’ asked one of them, not unpleasantly. He was perhaps the youngest of the group, not quite twenty, Lukien supposed. His hazel eyes and light colouring made him look more like a boy than a Charger, even a bit like Gilwyn. His companions kept working as he regarded Lukien and Mirage.

  ‘We’re looking for someone,’ replied Lukien, unsure how much to divulge. ‘We heard there’s a man in charge here named Breck. We’d like to see him.’

  ‘Just like that?’ asked the young man. His friends looked up from their mending to chuckle. ‘Fellow, Breck is very busy. But if you’re looking for shelter or something to eat, I can probably help you. You from the villages?’

  ‘No,’ said Lukien. ‘We’re from the south. We really need to speak to Breck. It’s important.’

  ‘The south?’ The soldier put down the bow he was stretching and sharpened his gaze on them. ‘No one sees Breck without a good reason. If you tell me who you are maybe-’

  ‘Aric?’ called a voice suddenly. The youngster paused and turned quickly. Lukien looke
d to see another man coming quickly toward them. When his eyes met Lukien’s he halted. ‘By all the hells,’ he gasped. ‘I can’t believe it. .’

  ‘Sir?’ the soldier questioned. ‘I’m sorry, these people-’

  The man held up his hand. ‘Don’t say anything, Aric. Just. . stop.’

  He smiled at Lukien, looking for all the world like a long-lost friend. Lukien could barely speak. It had been almost two years since he’d seen Breck and his old comrade looked older than he should have. Yet he was unmistakable in his uniform, and unmistakably happy to see him.

  ‘I was told you’d come,’ said Breck. He came up to them, stepping between Lukien’s horse and the confused soldier. Now the other soldiers were looking too, suddenly wondering just who had gotten their commander’s attention. But Breck chose all his words carefully, as if not wanting to reveal Lukien’s identity. ‘You look well,’ he said with a grin that masked some sadness. ‘At least as well as could be expected.’

  Lukien hurried down off his horse, almost ignoring the troubled Mirage. There were no words in him; all of them just blew away. He went to Breck and hugged him hard, the way soldiers do. Breck laughed and patted his back.

  ‘Ah, it’s good to see you!’ Breck bellowed. ‘Welcome home, my friend. Welcome home!’

  Lukien peeled himself away and gestured toward Mirage. ‘Breck, I want you to meet someone. This is Mirage.’

  ‘Mirage?’ Breck beamed at her. ‘Such an exotic name. Please, come down off your horse, woman. You are welcome here.’

  ‘You’re Breck?’ Mirage asked. Her gaze darted to Lukien.

  ‘Come on down,’ Lukien told her. ‘This is he.’

  Breck’s smile widened. ‘You’ve told her about me, then? You’re a skunk. You always did get the beauties.’

  Mirage coloured at the compliment. With Breck’s help she got down from her horse. ‘It’s been a long ride, Sir Breck. And when Lukien talks it’s mostly of his old days.’