by John Marco
‘Kahana, that is what I am trying to do for you. But you must let me.’
‘I understand your intentions. I didn’t always, but I do now. When Minikin let you take me from Grimhold . . .’
‘You were furious,’ said Lorn.
‘I was terrified. I still am. You do not know what this is like for me. It is more than just blindness. When I had Faralok, I was never alone. He was more than just my sight. He was my wise teacher. You should know that you could never replace him.’
‘Faralok is gone,’ said Lorn. ‘He took your sight with him, and neither of them are ever coming back.’
‘I know that,’ said White-Eye sharply.
‘Do you? Sometimes I wonder. You have spent the month feeling sorry for yourself. I’ve given you that time to grieve because Minikin wished it. But no more. Now I must do what she charged me to do. I must make a ruler out of you, my lady.’
White-Eye smirked. ‘You made a bold promise to her. Maybe I am not my father’s daughter.’
‘If you believe that, then you are doomed to fail. And I am wasting my time.’ Lorn gazed at the city, his thinking cagey. ‘And if that is so, then Jador is doomed with you. I have seen the way your people look at you, Kahana. They adore you. They are even part of the problem! They won’t let you do anything for yourself, and so with them around you will never learn. But they need you. Will you let them down?’
‘That is a strange question coming from you,’ said White-Eye. ‘The Seekers tell stories about you.’
‘They call me King Lorn the Wicked. I know this already.’
‘They say you abandoned your country and let Jazana Carr take the throne. They say you ran away.’
‘My country was taken from me,’ Lorn insisted. ‘And you are trying to change the subject by aggravating me.’
‘No,’ said White-Eye. ‘I know you love your daughter Poppy. I may be blind, but I can see that, at least. You are a good father. You did the right thing by taking her away from the war in Norvor. But I am wondering why you agreed to this task of Minikin’s, King Lorn.’
‘I made a promise to your favoured, my lady. That is why I do this thing.’
White-Eye turned to him. ‘Let’s speak plainly. I think you are doing this to find favour with Minikin, so that she will make a place for Poppy in Grimhold. It’s what you’ve always wanted, why you came here in the first place.’
Lorn sneered, offended by the notion. ‘You are a suspicious child. Minikin has already made this clear to me.’
‘But do you believe her? Do you truly? I think you are a schemer, my lord, and you will have to prove yourself to me, just as you are making me prove my own worth.’
‘You are audacious!’ Lorn laughed. ‘Ah, but you are honest. I am a schemer, Kahana, because fate has made me one. Sometimes a ruler must scheme to survive. In time you will learn that for yourself. There is much for you to learn. Much of it I can teach you, if you’ll let me.’
‘So that I’ll someday be called White-Eye the Wicked?’ The girl shook her head. ‘No. But thank you for the offer.’
‘If you think all I have to offer you is trickery, than you are a fool, child. I was a great king! I was loved when times were good and feared when times were bad, and the only reason the Diamond Queen defeated me was because her coffers knew no end. Men follow Jazana Carr because she pays them to do so. She makes slaves of them. Men followed me because they chose to.’
‘Some men, my lord. Not all.’
Lorn considered her argument. ‘No,’ he agreed. ‘Not all. But sides must be chosen, and ruling a country is not for the timid. You have been far too timid, Kahana. It it time for some courage.’
White-Eye seemed to look toward the bridge. ‘Gilwyn trusted you. I do not know why, and I have thought about almost nothing else these weeks. What is it about you that made him give you my city?’
‘Jador is not mine, Kahana,’ said Lorn. ‘Do not make the mistake of thinking you must wrest it from me. Jador belongs to you. But it is yours in name only, because you are the daughter of Kadar. If you truly want to make the city yours, you must claim it.’
White-Eye groaned. ‘You do not understand what I am saying. I do not want to be your pupil, King Lorn. You will make me as ruthless and unloved a ruler as you were in Norvor. And Minikin is away in Grimhold. She has not even come to see me! She has left me in your hands, to do what you want with me. It frightens me.’
Lorn felt the sting of her words. He studied her sightless eyes, and knew that even her confession had taken courage.
‘You are right,’ he said. ‘I will have to prove myself to you. I did not think of that until now.’
‘It will take a great deal,’ said White-Eye. ‘More than promises.’
‘Tonight all I have are promises, Kahana. I admit all my past indiscretions. And I apologize for none of them. But my promise to Gilwyn Toms was true. I have lost everything else but for my daughter and my word. Both those things are priceless to me.’
‘And you will not make me in your image? Promise me that tonight, King Lorn. I need to believe it.’
Lorn reached across the sand and seized her small hand. ‘Do you remember what I told you when we met in Grimhold?’
White-Eye smiled, the first genuine smile she had ever given him. ‘You said that I had dragons to slay.’
‘And what else?’
‘That we would slay them together.’
‘That’s right,’ said Lorn, glad she had remembered. ‘Now it is time for you to trust me.’
White-Eye turned her head. ‘The bridge?’
Lorn stood, pulling her up. ‘It’s a small step. But for you, it could be a first victory.’
The young Kahana took her time before speaking. Though she could not see the bridge, she knew exactly where it stood, staring at it blankly. ‘I’m not sure why it frightens me so much. It is only a bridge.’
‘It is a place from here to there,’ said Lorn. ‘Perhaps that is what frightens you.’
‘And falling in the water.’
‘That won’t happen,’ Lorn assured her. Slowly he guided her to the foot of the bridge. ‘When you reach the other side, just turn around. I will be here.’
‘It’s so dark.’ White-Eye bit her bottom lip. ‘Everything is so dark.’
‘Hold on to the rail,’ Lorn directed, then let go of her hand.
White-Eye wobbled, then caught herself. But she did not move toward the bridge.
‘They call me King Lorn the Wicked,’ said Lorn, not rushing her. ‘But do you know what they call you?’
‘What?’
‘I have heard the Seekers beyond the wall talking about you. They know you cannot go out in daylight. They’re calling you the Midnight Queen.’
White-Eye’s brows knitted. ‘The Midnight Queen . . .’
‘I think it’s a fine name,’ said Lorn. ‘A strong name.’
‘Strong,’ whispered White-Eye. ‘Yes . . .’
Lorn said nothing more. He simply waited, confident. White-Eye shuffled forward. Putting her hand on the thick stone rail, she eased herself onto the deck. Then, without turning back, she walked across it.
The king and queen rode back to the palace in silence. White-Eye, pleased with herself, leaned against Lorn as he guided her back to her fabulous home, safely nestled in his arms. It had been a remarkable night. Lorn wanted to savour it. He rode unhurried back to the palace, but he was anxious to return and tell Eirian of his breakthrough with White-Eye. She would be asleep, he knew, unless Poppy was restless, but she always awoke when he returned, eager to see the man she loved. As Lorn approached the palace, he smiled at its graceful towers, so at peace in the dark night. For the first time, he had actually reached White-Eye. It was a night to celebrate.
Against his chest, it seemed the young Kahana had fallen asleep, but Lorn knew she was as charged as he was by what had happened. To recount the story would sound like such a minor thing. What would he tell Eirian and the others? That White-Eye had walke
d across a bridge? They might never understand the triumph of the moment, but Lorn didn’t really care. In that instant, he had watched her become the Midnight Queen, full of grace as she confidently strode the bridge and back again.
‘Tired?’ he asked her. ‘You are very quiet, my lady.’
White-Eye shook her head. ‘Just thinking.’
It was enough of an answer to satisfy Lorn, and he said nothing more as they rode onto the palace grounds, passing Jadori guards atop wild-eyed kreels. The men greeted their Kahana in their own language, then nodded at Lorn, who suddenly seemed little more than a chaperone. Lorn trotted his horse through the perfumed gardens, guided by the light of torches and huge braziers of burning coal. When they reached the main entrance, however, he noticed more of the Jadori guards around the great arch, and a handful of northern men looking grossly out of place. Amarl, the Jadori whom Lorn had most come to trust, waved at him as he stood beside his massive kreel. Lorn peered through the darkness at the foreigners. There were four of them, but Lorn recognized three of them at once. With their stooped postures and wavy dark hair, they were unmistakable.
‘My lady,’ he said, riding into the courtyard. ‘We have company.’
White-Eye cocked her head to listen. ‘Who?’
‘Men from the village beyond the wall, friends of mine,’ said Lorn. He waved back at Amarl, then at his three comrades from Marn, the bone-diseased brothers who had helped him rebuild Jador’s ruined defenses. Their names were Tarlan, Harliz and Garmin, and to those who barely knew them they looked nearly identical, their clothes old and worn, their posture painfully stooped from disease. Tarlan and his brothers gave Lorn a smile as he rode up to them and dismounted. The fourth man who had come with them – a stranger – did nothing but stare down at the dirt.
‘Tarlan?’ Lorn asked. ‘What’s wrong? Why are you here?’
Amarl the Jadori interrupted Tarlan before he could speak. ‘They have news, King Lorn,’ said the warrior. At once he went to Lorn’s horse, helping down his queen. White-Eye fell into his large hands, letting him guide her to the ground.
‘What news, Amarl?’ White-Eye asked. Her blank eyes searched the voices. ‘Who are they?’
Tarlan and his brothers had never seen White-Eye, and now they watched her nervously. Harliz stepped forward and gave her a bow, barely inclining his already bent back.
‘We’re from Marn, Kahana,’ he said haltingly. ‘We are friends of King Lorn. We’ve been waiting for him to return.’
‘They are friends, Amarl,’ confirmed Lorn, a bit angered the warrior had kept them waiting outside in the darkness instead of inviting them into the palace. He turned to the stranger. ‘But I don’t know you.’
‘This one has the news,’ said Amarl. The warrior had removed the wrappings of his gaka from his face, focusing his fierce eyes on the stranger. ‘He came with the others.’
‘We brought him here, Lorn,’ said Garmin. ‘He came across the desert two days ago.’
‘My name is Jaton,’ said the man nervously. He crushed a cap in both his hands, his eyes darting between Lorn and White-Eye. ‘I’m from Nith, my lord. I brought my family across the desert to find Mount Believer.’
Both Lorn and White-Eye let out a little groan.
‘Garmin, why did you bring him here?’ Lorn asked. ‘We can’t do anything for them, you know that.’
‘No, you don’t understand,’ said Tarlan, coming to his brother’s rescue. He grew serious. ‘Lorn, remember when you told us about Aztar? How everyone thinks he is dead?’
Lorn felt his insides seize. ‘Yes . . .’
‘He’s not dead,’ said Harliz. ‘Not according to this fellow.’
‘Not dead?’ White-Eye exclaimed. Amazingly, her gaze found the stranger. ‘How do you know that?’
‘I was in Ganjor before crossing the desert. My family spent days there trying to find someone to take us across. We heard things about Aztar. He is alive, my lady. Everyone in Ganjor thinks so.’
‘That’s why we brought him here,’ said Garmin. ‘We met him just a few hours ago, in a shrana house. We started talking, and that’s when he told us about Aztar.’
‘How could Aztar be alive?’ White-Eye asked. ‘How could he have survived?’
‘They say he is burned, my lady,’ explained Jaton from Nith. ‘He has a camp, hidden somewhere in the desert.’
‘There are still men with him?’ Lorn asked.
Jaton nodded. ‘So they say. I heard at least two hundred have remained with him. My lord, I heard about his battle with you when I was in Ganjor. Before just a few weeks ago, the Ganjeese thought he was dead, too.’
‘Then how did they find out he’s alive?’ asked White-Eye.
‘Because he is in bed with them,’ Lorn grumbled. ‘That fat bastard Baralosus – he still has designs on Jador no doubt!’
‘I don’t think so, Lorn,’ said Tarlan. He looked urgingly at Jaton. ‘Tell them the rest.’
‘I’m unsure of the rest,’ Jaton explained, ‘but they say King Baralosus’ daughter is imprisoned.’
‘Salina?’ Lorn gasped. ‘Why?’
‘For helping you here in Jador, my lord. They say she was discovered in treachery, that she warned you about Prince Aztar. Mind you, I never heard of any of these people before going to Ganjor. I only wanted to come across the desert. But the whole city is talking about this, my lord.’
The awful news staggered Lorn. He had only met Salina once, but she had been a great help to him, and to all of Jador. He looked at White-Eye and saw dread on her face. The Kahana stood stoically by his side.
‘Gilwyn . . .’
Lorn considered the possibilities. Had Gilwyn been discovered, too?
‘What else did you hear?’ Lorn asked. ‘Tell us everything.’
‘Did you hear about a boy, a northerner with a clubbed foot and hand?’ asked White-Eye.
Jaton grimaced. ‘No, I don’t think so,’ he said, clutching his cap. ‘Just about the princess.’
‘But how did Baralosus discover her?’ Lorn asked. He felt panicked suddenly. ‘Come now, remember everything you heard.’
‘That’s all of it, my lord, I swear,’ insisted Jaton. ‘King Baralosus found out his daughter was helping you. I don’t know how he discovered her treachery. Maybe no one knows. I didn’t ask.’
‘And you never heard the name Gilwyn Toms? That doesn’t sound familiar to you?’
‘No,’ said Jaton anxiously. ‘No, I’m sorry.’
‘We thought you should hear all of this quickly, Lorn,’ said Tarlan. ‘That’s why we brought him here tonight. We’ve been waiting for you for hours.’
‘You did the right thing, Tarlan,’ sighed Lorn. ‘Thank you. Jaton, I want you to stay here, at least for the night. I want you to think very hard, and to remember anything else that you can. Amarl, will you take these men inside? Give them food and a place to sleep.’
Amarl agreed, looking unhappy. But before he could lead the northerners inside Jaton stepped forward to confront White-Eye.
‘Kahana, my family has travelled a long way . . .’
‘No.’ Lorn put up his hand. ‘Don’t ask it, Jaton.’
Jaton looked at him, heart-broken. ‘But my wife is very ill. If—’
‘Stop. I know the story, Jaton. I brought my own daughter here thinking the same thing as you, but there’s no magic here to heal your wife. Now, just go inside and rest.’
Jaton began stuttering, but Amarl’s broad hand turned him away from the Kahana. The warrior led Jaton into the palace, bidding Tarlan and his brothers to follow. The stooped trio glanced at Lorn.
‘It’s all right,’ Lorn assured them. ‘He’ll take care of you. I’ll be in soon to talk with you.’
When they were gone, White-Eye ordered the other guards out of the courtyard, leaving herself alone with Lorn. The two said nothing for a long moment, contemplating all they had heard. Finally, White-Eye asked the pertinent question.
‘What do we do?’
‘I should tell Minikin,’ said White-Eye.
‘Minikin is too weak to help us,’ said Lorn. ‘You said so yourself.’
‘She needs to know about this.’
‘Indeed. And we will tell her. But what about you? You’re the Kahana. You must prepare the city for whatever is to come.’
The order made White-Eye shudder. ‘I wish Gilwyn were here.’ She turned toward Lorn. ‘Do you think he is all right?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Lorn dismally. ‘Maybe he got out of Ganjor. Jaton didn’t say anything about him.’
‘That one? He is a stranger. He doesn’t seem to know anything.’
‘I know,’ Lorn growled, ‘but what are we to do? We’re weak. If Gilwyn has been captured . . .’
‘Then we must help him!’
‘No.’
White-Eye frowned at him. ‘No?’
‘This is a night of important lessons for you, Kahan. Now here is another for you – if Gilwyn has been captured, then he knew the risks. Your duty is to Jador now.’ Lorn fixed her in his stare. ‘You see? You see how right I was? A ruler may never rest.’
White-Eye put her hand out for Lorn. He took it, steadying her. To his surprise, he saw steel in her expression.
‘We do not know if Jaton is correct,’ she said. ‘We are . . . blind.’
‘Correct. Go on.’
White-Eye thought hard. ‘If Aztar is alive, we do not know his intentions.’
‘His intentions are what they’ve always been,’ said Lorn. ‘To harm us.’
‘But we cannot attack him.’
‘No,’ Lorn agreed. ‘We cannot.’
‘So we shall wait,’ White-Eye decided. ‘We will make ourselves strong again.’ Leaning against Lorn, she let the old king guide her into the palace. ‘And you will make me strong, too. And I will learn from you.’
17
Mirage picked her way through the narrow lane, marvelling at the diminutive, pastel-coloured homes. Sunlight streamed in between the closely spaced buildings, brightening the avenue, while street vendors sold treats and admired the pretty lady who had come to visit. Overhead, the sky glowed a perfect blue. Birds walked the wooden gutters, warbling their morning songs. Along the lane children kicked stones as they played beneath the shade of shingled roofs, their mothers and fathers busy with work. The doors to the tiny homes sported plaques with Reecian names, all of them small and jammed together in the winding avenue. Enchanted by the storybook setting, Mirage wandered unafraid past the homes and the men and women tending them. She had been told by Laurella that it was called the Rainbow Lane, a source of pride among the people of Hes. With its tiny, colourful homes and charming iron lamp posts, it gave the city its name – Hes the Serene.
