The Sword Of Angels (Gollancz S.F.)

by John Marco

  ‘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.

  Architecturally, 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.

  ‘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 physiq
ue 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.’