by John Marco
It was true, but Jazana chose not to acknowledge the point. As word continued to spread of her arrival, more and more Liirians began to fill the avenue, relieved to see the sane half of the throne back safely. The pressing crowd made her more determined than ever to reach Lionkeep, however, and as they rode Jazana increased her pace, urging her horse onward. Her exhausted mercenaries kept up without grumbling, and by the time they reached the gates of Lionkeep the crowds had fallen away. Lionkeep itself was a rolling tor of green lawn and flowers, an ancient keep kept away from the busy streets of the rest of the city. As the gates opened for the returning queen, quietude swept in after her. Lionkeep lay at peace before her, its courtyard moving with efficient servants and lazily trotting horses. Varl called the company to a halt, letting them dismount and dismissing them. Behind her, Jazana listened as the gate of Lionkeep close shut behind her.
‘Thank the heavens,’ she sighed.
As was customary, a groom came forward to help her down. Jazana took the man’s hand and daintily slipped from her saddle. Varl tossed himself down beside her, shouting orders to his weary men. Jazana ignored him, eagerly scanning the courtyard for Thorin. She had sent word to her lover of her early arrival. Though she didn’t really expect to see him, she nevertheless felt crestfallen at his absence. The groom, a middle-aged Rolgan named Fellors, noted her disappointment. She had installed Fellors herself in his position, wanting people she could trust around her and Thorin. He had been with her in Hanging Man for years, and could read her moods instantly.
‘So? Where is he?’ Jazana asked. ‘No, let me guess. He’s at the library. Again.’
Fellors coloured as he took hold of her horse. ‘No, my lady.’
‘No?’
The groom grew circumspect. ‘Uhm, no.’
Jazana stepped into his face. ‘What are you hiding Fellors? Tell me or I’ll cut your tongue out.’
Fellors barely flinched. He had been with Jazana long enough to know her moods, and over the years Jazana had threatened him with far worse. Still, he remained aloof, as if searching for just the right way to give her bad news.
‘Baron Glass is with someone, my lady,’ he said. ‘He’s gone riding.’
‘Riding? With who?’
‘A woman, my lady.’ Fellors looked at Varl, who had overheard their conversation and now stepped beside his queen. ‘She arrived here a few days ago. An old acquaintance of the baron. From Jador.’
Jazana felt her heart trip. Speechless, she could barely even breathe. She turned away from Fellors, hiding her face, which she knew must look pained.
‘What woman from Jador?’ asked Rodrik. ‘What’s her name?’
‘Mirage is her name,’ said Fellors. ‘I don’t know much else about her.’ He paused, and Jazana could feel his eyes on her. ‘I’m sorry, my lady.’
Jazana pulled down on her riding shirt and straightened herself. ‘When did they leave?’
‘An hour ago. A little more, maybe. The baron didn’t say when he’d be back.’
‘No,’ Jazana growled. ‘Of course not.’
Her mind raced with possibilities, all of them ugly. Thorin never spoke of his time in Jador, nor of any woman he had met there, but Jazana had a fine imagination, and now it ran away with her. The old jealousy wriggled insider her, making her burn. And the only thing she could think of was how many times Thorin had ignored her of late. Yet somehow, he had managed to find time for this Jadori slut.
‘Jazana? Do you know this woman Mirage?’ asked Rodrik.
Jazana rumbled, ‘No. But I’m going to wait right here until I see them both.’
The first thing Thorin saw when he rode into the courtyard was Jazana. Stone-faced, she sat on a wooden chair within the shade of Rodrik Varl, who stood coolly and loyally beside his queen. It had been an excellent afternoon, and Thorin was in a fine frame of mind, but the daggers that shot from the Diamond Queen’s eyes instantly killed Thorin’s joy. Next to him, Mirage was riding and laughing, happy from the long trip they had made through the orchards. She had been with Thorin for three days now, lifting him from the darkness of despair with only her patience and her pretty face. Her presence had worked magic on Thorin, just like a charm, just like he knew it would. No one in Koth or anywhere else outside of Jador knew what it was like to have an Akari, and Mirage had spent long hours talking with Thorin, listening to him, caring for him in ways that Jazana never could. Now, though, the bliss of the last few days fell on Thorin like a rainstorm. He drew back his horse, bringing it to a stop and telling Mirage to do the same. As his mount whinnied backward, Jazana stood and crossed her arms over her chest.
Mirage stopped talking, seeing Jazana at once. Her smile disappeared. ‘Who’s that? Jazana Carr?’
Thorin nodded. ‘She wasn’t supposed to be back yet. Damn.’
Mirage sat up with a grimace. ‘Should I go?’
‘No.’ Thorin started trotting forward again. ‘She’s not my keeper. Come and meet her.’
‘I don’t think so. .’
‘Come on,’ Thorin ordered, and with all the innocence he could muster rode up to where Jazana was standing and looked down on her. ‘Jazana? You’re back already?’
‘I’m sorry, Thorin,’ purred Jazana icily. ‘I didn’t mean to interrupt your fun.’ Her gaze fell on Mirage, and for a moment she looked stunned. ‘And look at this beauty!’
‘This is Mirage,’ said Thorin. Sure he had nothing to hide, he bade Mirage forward. Mirage cautiously trotted her horse into view.
‘My lady, I’m pleased to meet you,’ she said, her voice shaky. ‘It is an honour.’
‘Is it? How wonderful for you.’
‘Jazana. .’
‘Stop talking, Thorin,’ Jazana hissed. ‘I’m tired of your lies and all your ridiculous promises. I’m glad you weren’t here to greet me after my long ride from Andola. It gave me time to think.’ Jazana smiled up at Mirage. ‘Mirage. What a pretty name! And such a lovely young thing. Have you been enjoying yourself? Thorin is quite a lover, isn’t he?’
Mirage blanched and reared back. Thorin rushed to her defense.
‘Keep your tongue, woman,’ he growled. ‘Mirage is no whore. She came to help me. She’s from Jador.’
‘Oh, a friend,’ sighed Jazana. ‘How sweet. Tell me, Mirage, how will you help him? He likes his back rubbed. You can start with that before you bed him.’
‘That’s enough!’ Thorin got down from his horse, towering over Jazana and eyeing Varl sharply. ‘You, take her inside,’ he ordered. ‘Mirage, go with Varl.’
Mirage hesitated. ‘Thorin? Are you sure?’
‘He won’t do anything to you,’ Thorin promised. He turned to her, smiling, and helped her down from her horse. ‘Please, just go with him. Jazana and I must talk.’
Varl looked at Jazana. She nodded, releasing him. With only a passing glance at Thorin, Varl came forward and touched Mirage’s shoulder, leading her away. Thorin and Jazana both waited until they were alone before saying anything more. Thorin fought down his anger, flexing the fingers of his enchanted gauntlet. In his mind he could feel Kahldris’ displeasure. The Akari still distrusted Mirage, and had not approved at all of Thorin’s time with her. More importantly, he warned Thorin everyday about the danger of alienating Jazana Carr.
Calm her, Baron, whispered Kahldris. You still need her.
It was advice Thorin did not need. He knew he needed Jazana and her fortune. More importantly, he loved her, and that was something Kahldris could never understand. He studied Jazana’s face, hoping for an inch of comfort, but her icy fac?ade remained, and the storm in her eyes didn’t fade.
‘Will you walk with me?’ he asked.
‘Why should I?’
‘Because I have asked it of you,’ said Thorin. He took her arm. ‘Please.’
Jazana relented, but brushed off his touch. ‘Go on, then.’
With a grunt of displeasure Thorin led the way, heading to a more secluded part of the courtyard, away from the curious
servants and soldiers spying on them. He located a place near a stand of willow trees, properly shaded and invitingly secluded. Jazana followed him, her lips twisted in a pout. By the time they reached the willows she was eager to speak.
‘Tell me who she is, Thorin,’ she demanded. Again she folded her arms. ‘And please don’t tell me she’s a friend. Men don’t have friends that look the way she does.’
Thorin thought for a moment, unsure how to answer. He had never told Jazana much about his time in Jador, though she had already guessed at a lot of it. She knew there was magic in Jador and that his armour was part of that magic. Amazingly, she had accepted it.
‘She is a friend,’ said Thorin. ‘She’s from Jador, and that’s not something I can explain to you. She’s one of the people who understands the magic of my armour, the kind of strength I have.’
‘What’s she doing here?’ asked Jazana. ‘Why has she come to Koth?’
‘To see me. To help me.’ Thorin had trouble not looking away. ‘She knows about the Devil’s Armour. She thinks it is harming me, Jazana.’
For the first time Jazana’s ire lifted. ‘She’s right, Thorin.’ She looked around, and her voice dipped. ‘I’ve told you this already, a dozen times.’
‘And she’s wrong, just as you are wrong, Jazana. I’ve tried to tell her this but she won’t listen. She’s convinced, as you are.’ Thorin laughed. ‘So you see? She’s not your enemy, Jazana. You both are on the same side. The wrong side!’
Jazana didn’t laugh. ‘Look at you. You’re happier than I’ve seen you in months. Are you telling me it’s because you’re just talking with that pretty young thing?’
‘Yes! Jazana, you don’t understand. You don’t know what it means to have this magic, what it’s like to carry it around and live with it. But Mirage — she knows. I can’t tell you how or why, but she does. And when I talk to her. .’ Thorin glanced away. ‘I feel better.’
Jazana looked pained by his confession. She, too, looked away. ‘You love her.’
‘No.’
‘You do. You make time for her, you go riding. .’
‘To talk, Jazana, that’s all.’
‘Yet you shut me out every time I try to talk, Thorin.’ Jazana stepped away a few paces, distracted by the low boughs of the willow trees. ‘And now I come back and I have all this news to tell you, and I see you with that girl. And you’re listening to her! You’re riding with her, spending time with her. .’ Jazana shook her head. ‘It’s wrong.’
Thorin frowned. ‘What’s wrong? That I should speak with a woman?’
‘You’ve ignored me, and everything I’ve wanted. It’s enough now, Thorin. I’m going.’
‘Going?’
‘Back to Norvor,’ said Jazana. ‘I’m needed there, and I’m not needed here.’
Kahldris shot through the clutter of Thorin’s mind. No!
‘No, Jazana,’ Thorin insisted. ‘You can’t go.’
‘I have to. I can’t wait any longer, Thorin. You’ve already broken your promise to me. I lied for you in Andola. I told all the dukes that you would soon ride to Carlion and deal with Elgan. That’s a lie.’
Thorin felt stung. ‘I can’t go to Norvor, Jazana. I’ve told you.’
‘Because you’re waiting for the boy to come,’ Jazana groaned. ‘I know. So wait for him, then. Wait with your pretty new harlot and be happy. I’m going.’
‘No,’ flared Thorin. He took Jazana’s arm forcefully. ‘I forbid it.’
‘I’m not your daughter!’ snarled Jazana, tearing free of him. ‘I’m the Queen of Norvor and I’m going home!’
‘And what about all of this?’ asked Thorin, sweeping his arm across Lionkeep. ‘Look at what we’ve built! You’re going to just abandon it?’
‘What have we built, Thorin? Nothing! Your mad dream has only emptied my coffers and emboldened bastards like Elgan. He thinks Lorn is coming back. He’s waiting for him right now! What happens if Lorn does return? What will you promise to do then?’
‘Lorn won’t ever return,’ scoffed Thorin. ‘He’s gone forever.’
‘And so is Carlion. It’s gone, Thorin. Do you hear? My capital, gone!’
‘I won’t let you leave me, Jazana,’ said Thorin evenly. He felt the power of the armour roiling through him, angering him. Then, in a calm voice, Kahldris was there to advise him.
No, Baron Glass. Sweet talk.
Thorin caught himself. Jazana was starting at him, looking afraid. He smiled.
‘My love, listen to me,’ he crooned. ‘I know I’ve ignored you. I’m sorry. But Mirage isn’t what you think. She’s just a girl! While you. .’ He put his arms around her waist. ‘You’re a woman. The only woman for me.’
Jazana squirmed a little in his grip but soon relaxed, losing herself in his eyes. ‘Thorin, stop,’ she pleaded. ‘I have to go.’
‘No, Jazana, no,’ he whispered. He kissed her. ‘No. .’
She bent to him, falling to his kisses, resisting only a little, giving off a string of whimpers. Her hands dropped limply to her sides.
‘Stop it,’ she sighed, turning her face away. ‘You’re in love with her.’
‘I’m not,’ Thorin promised. ‘Just you, Jazana. Just you.’
Jazana gave herself to him, collapsing against his warm cheek. ‘Take me away, Thorin. Take me somewhere else. Be alone with me.’
‘Yes, my love, anything.’
‘Just us, Thorin, all right? Just me and you. Just listen to me this once.’
‘We’ll go away, Jazana,’ Thorin told her, pressing her close. It was real love he felt, he was sure of it. ‘Just us.’
In the back of his mind Thorin glimpsed a flash of Kahldris, nodding happily.
45
The rains had come to Torlis, turning the sky to soup and the winding path up the mountain to mud. Through the steady drizzle of the day the sun struggled to light the way, up into the thinning air of Sercin’s giant house. The morning had come and gone, dragging along a grey afternoon. A chilly breeze spun the clouds along the top of the holy mountain. Out of breath but determined, the four climbers paused to look up toward the peak, capped with snow that made rivers down the mountain’s rocky face. Lahkali, dressed in red silk, led the way, her fist clenched around the katath the legendary Aliz Nok had made for her. She spoke not at all as she climbed, lost in doom-haunted thought. Behind her, Karoshin the priest and Niharn the fencing master kept pace, exchanging a few whispered observations. Far in the rear walked Lukien. Keeping his distance from the other three, the Bronze Knight watched Lahkali through the steady rain, admiring the courageous girl and considering the daunting task ahead of her.
They had left the palace the previous afternoon, riding for the mountain with a host of priests and warriors, all of whom remained camped at the bottom. Karoshin, Niharn and Lukien had been handpicked by the Red Eminence to accompany her the rest of the way. It was a great honour, Lukien knew, but really just a ceremony. Soon Lahkali would leave them, breaking off to make the rest of the trek up the mountain alone. Alone, she would face the Great Rass.
It had not been hard for Lukien to stay. Karoshin had shamed him into seeing the truth. He had made a promise to the young leader, and in his life he had broken too many promises. This one, Lukien was determined to keep. He had done his best, and for that Lukien was pleased. Lahkali had turned into quite a scrappy fighter, good enough perhaps to join Jazana Carr’s mercenaries. She lacked the instinct to kill, of course, but her body had been toughened and her mind focused, and as she silently climbed the mud-slicked mountain Lukien could tell that she had changed. She had been a girl when he’d first come to Torlis, but now she was truly the Red Eminence.
And today, she would almost certainly die.
Lahkali sensed this with a kind of reserved melancholy. Before leaving the palace, she had called the three of them to a special ceremony where tea was served and prayers were said, and where Karoshin had blessed her with the sign of Sercin. Like the priest himself, Lahkali no
w bore a serpent tattoo along her neck. According to practice all of her line before her had got such a tattoo before their first time facing the Great Rass. But more than the tattoo, all of her line had enjoyed the gift that Lahkali lacked, the one real weapon they took into battle against the serpent god. These days, Lahkali never spoke about the gift. She could do nothing to control the rass, and so had only her training and perfectly made katath to keep her alive.
Lukien knew they would not be enough.
He walked in silence, breathing hard like the rest of them, battling the rocks and mud and altitude. Beneath his damp coat and shirt, the Eye of God warmed him. Lately he’d been thinking long and hard about the amulet, and how it had kept him alive, sometimes against his will. When Minikin had given him the amulet, he had been staring death in the face. That was the first time he’d faced it, after his battle with Trager. The second was barely a year ago, when he’d fought Thorin. That was when the miracle happened.
Lukien trudged along, and as he did his thoughts were of Cassandra. Soon, if things went as he hoped, he might see her again.
Karoshin and Niharn had stopped talking by the time another few minutes passed. The old fencing master — who had become a friend to Lukien — looked back in surprise, urging Lukien to keep up. Lukien nodded and sped up a bit, though not enough to catch up with them. Master Niharn, who had taken over Lahkali’s training while Lukien mourned for Jahan, had not changed his mind about the young Eminence’s chances. He still put them at nil. Nevertheless, he had done his best, showing Lahkali all his tricks, staying up late with her to drill in the courtyard or in the forests beyond the palace. Because she respected him, and because she was grateful for his help, Lahkali had asked Niharn to join her on the mountain. The honour was not lost on the old man, who brought his own katath with him and vowed revenge on the Great Rass when it inevitably killed his ruler.
For Karoshin, though, it was a day of great joy. He was a priest of Sercin, after all, and now his mysterious god had taken form, coming to life as a serpent somewhere up on the mountain. As Karoshin climbed he seemed oblivious of the hard trek, never complaining, always bearing a peculiar smile. Unlike Lukien or Niharn, Karoshin refused to believe that Lahkali had no chance at all. He was oddly confident in the girl, or at least pretended to be. Lukien supposed his confidence was for Lahkali’s benefit, and for that reason he no longer questioned it.
