The Devil's Armour (Gollancz S.F.) (80 page)

Baron Glass entered the gigantic chamber as quietly as he could and sat down at one of the long tables. Breck turned and noticed him with a nod. The commander, Van had told him, wanted Thorin to be here for the meeting, not at all sure that Onikil’s claims were trustworthy. Those claims, Van had told him, were terms for surrender. It took only a moment for Thorin to notice the letter on the table. Breck had left it there, almost as an afterthought.

Count Onikil stopped talking when Thorin sat down. His eyes lingered a moment on the baron, but without recognition. The two had never met. Still, Thorin carefully hid his armoured arm beneath his velvet cape.

‘I could use a drink,’ said the count, clearing his throat. He looked uneasy under the stares of Breck’s men. He watched Van carefully as he sat down near Breck, then his eyes flicked back to Thorin. ‘They paused to bring you,’ he said to Thorin suddenly. ‘Are you a man of importance here?’

Thorin didn’t know how to answer. Part of him wondered if Onikil had taken his place in Jazana’s bed. He looked at Breck, who nodded at him.

‘Go on and tell him,’ said Breck. ‘He’ll find out soon enough.’

Thorin decided to wait. ‘First, tell me what’s happened. Has this dog brought a message from Jazana?’

Onikil’s offence was obvious. Still, he fidgeted, obviously nervous. He picked up the letter from the table and showed it to Thorin. ‘This is a message from the Diamond Queen. It’s an offer of mercy.’ His expression darkened. ‘This man, Breck – he tells me he is in charge here. So why am I talking to you?’

‘Look at the letter,’ Breck told Thorin. ‘Tell me if it looks genuine.’

Thorin got up and stood before Count Onikil. He picked up the letter with his fleshly hand and knew at once it was Jazana’s. The handwriting was unmistakable. So too was the expensive paper. He could almost smell her perfume on it. The letter’s content was no less telling. In that direct language of hers that he’d once loved, Jazana made her expectations plain. Her men were in Andola and ready to strike. Thorin read the last line with twisted interest:

The whole world loves me now. Why can’t Koth
?

To Thorin’s pleasure the letter made no mention of him. Clearly, she didn’t know he was here. Neither did Count Onikil – yet.

‘It’s hers,’ he said. He placed the letter back on the table. ‘There’s no doubt.’

‘That’s what I’ve been trying to tell them,’ said Onikil with annoyance. He looked up at Thorin. ‘Who are you, sir?’

Still not ready to tip his hand, Thorin said, ‘So, Jazana’s sent you to be her messenger boy, eh? Not Rodrik Varl? Not some other poor bastard?’

Onikil flushed. ‘I am a count, sir,’ he protested. ‘And I am on a mission of mercy.’

‘She must have promised you something good to make you take this chance, Onikil.’ The unpredictable rawness of Kahldris pulsed through Thorin suddenly. ‘She has a way with men, I know. She makes dogs of them. And you’re her dog now, is that it?’

‘I came to deliver a message,’ said Onikil. His voice began to quiver. ‘If you had any brains you’d pay me some attention – and some respect.’

‘Or clap you in irons and sell you back to her,’ Breck suggested.

Onikil put up his hands and smiled. ‘No, let’s not talk about that. Why do such a thing when it would only enrage the queen? I am here in good faith, Sir Breck. And you know Jazana Carr.’

‘Not well, thank the Fate,’ said Breck. ‘And she apparently doesn’t know me, either. She wants us to surrender? She can forget it.’

The men in the chamber all backed Breck up with quiet cheers. Major Nevins seemed particularly moved.

‘Go back and tell your slut-queen that Liiria belongs to Liirians,’ he sneered. ‘She may have taken Andola but she’ll never take Koth.’

Van added, ‘She may have convinced others to give up their loyalties, but not us.’

Onikil leaned back in his chair and waved him off. ‘None of you know what you’re talking about – or what you’re up against.’

‘Oh, but I do,’ said Van hotly. ‘I was one of her dogs once.’

The count looked at him oddly, but before he could speak Thorin piped up.

‘So was I, Onikil,’ he declared. He towered intimidatingly over the frightened Norvan. ‘I know all about Jazana, and what she can do. But we’re not afraid of her. That’s the message I want you to bring back. You tell her that the defenders of Koth are here waiting for her, and she can throw every diamond she has at us, but she’ll never get us out of here.’

It was bravado fed by Kahldris. Count Onikil looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.

‘Sir,
who are you
?’ he asked.

‘My name is Thorin Glass,’ said Thorin proudly. ‘Onetime dog to the Diamond Queen. I’m sure the name is familiar to you.’

‘Baron Glass?’ Count Onikil got to his feet, his face plainly astonished. ‘Truly?’

‘Aye, Baron Glass and back from the brink,’ said Thorin. ‘And ready to give Jazana the thrashing she deserves.’

Onikil shook his head in disbelief. ‘You can’t be Baron Glass. Your arm . . .’

‘A fake,’ said Thorin. He’d been very careful not to move
it much. ‘To hide my identity. But I assure you, Count – I
am
Baron Glass.’

Charged silence filled the room as the two noblemen stared at each other. Left speechless by Thorin’s claim, Count Onikil could barely make an utterance.

‘This is . . . unexpected,’ he finally managed, all his diplomacy gone. ‘The queen has no idea you’re here, or even that you’re still alive.’

The statement bothered Thorin, but he was unsure why. ‘She must suspect I’m alive, or she wouldn’t have launched this war.’

Count Onikil became uncomfortable. ‘Perhaps . . .’ He looked around at the unfriendly faces. ‘. . . we could talk more privately.’

Breck leaned back. ‘Why?’

‘Because I am unaccustomed to being interrogated, Sir Breck.’ Onikil swept his hand toward the gathered soldiers. ‘And because not everything I say is for everyone to hear.’

Sensing the impending tide, Breck politely asked his men to leave – all of them. Nevins and the other commanders hesitated, but only for a moment. There was some grunting as they left the chamber. Vanlandinghale looked inquisitively at Breck, as if to ask, ‘Me too?’ Breck nodded. Van turned and left. When all of them had gone, Count Onikil licked his lips and rubbed his hands together nervously.

‘All right,’ he began carefully, ‘this was not what I intended. Baron Glass is right, Sir Breck – if not for him I doubt very much that Jazana Carr would be at your doorstep.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Breck.

‘He means my family,’ said Thorin. ‘That’s why Jazana’s come – to find them, threaten them. To flush me out.’

‘Your family is gone,’ said Breck. ‘Aric told you so.’

‘Aye, but Jazana doesn’t know that. She made a promise to me, Breck.’

‘It’s revenge, you see,’ said Onikil. ‘Baron Glass is precisely right. The queen’s vendetta has driven us to this
precipice.’ A mischievous gleam sparkled in his eyes. ‘But perhaps we can do something about this . . .’

He was a plotter; Thorin knew that about Onikil already. No man would have taken this mission without an inflated view of his own abilities, and Count Onikil’s opinion of himself was obviously great.

‘What are you thinking?’ Thorin asked.

Count Onikil was lost in thought. ‘Jazana Carr doesn’t know you’re here,’ he mused. ‘If she did . . .’ He hesitated. ‘If she did, then she wouldn’t have to threaten Koth. She would have contacted you herself.’

Breck looked at the count, confused by his meanderings. ‘Make yourself clear, man.’

‘Sir Breck, do you want war? No, of course you don’t. I don’t want it either, and neither do many of the queen’s men. Only the queen herself wants this war, and only to prove herself to this man.’ Onikil pointed at Glass. ‘So why fight a war no one wants?’

‘What are you suggesting?’ asked Thorin. ‘Betraying your own queen? What kind of man—’

‘Please, Baron Glass, let me finish.’ Onikil pressed his dainty hands together and sighed. ‘I will speak truthfully to you. Jazana Carr she is . . . now what is the word?’

‘Insane?’ Breck suggested.

‘Heartbroken,’ said Onikil. ‘Because you, Baron Glass, left her, and she has never been the same. She has all of Norvor now, but she neglects it. I’m Norvan. I don’t care at all about Liiria. What I want – what all of us want – is for Jazana to turn her attention back to Norvor.’

‘Where you’ll be more than a count, I take it,’ Thorin grunted.

Count Onikil smiled. ‘Is it wrong to be ambitious, sir? But you are right – if the queen goes back to Norvor – if we don’t all die in this silly escapade, then I might well be a prince in Norvor someday.’

‘I still don’t understand,’ said Breck. ‘What do you want us to do?’

‘It’s obvious,’ chirped Onikil. ‘Baron Glass, you must go to Jazana Carr.’

He said it with such ease, at first Thorin thought he’d heard wrong. But Onikil’s smooth smile told the truth – this fox of a man wanted a meeting between them.

‘What?’ blurted Breck. ‘Onikil, you’re as mad as your queen.’

‘Sir Breck, think for a moment,’ Onikil implored. ‘What could be better than a face-to-face meeting between the two of them? You and I are in the same leaky boat – we are caught between the two of them. But if they meet, if they make peace . . .’

‘Peace?’ Breck erupted. ‘How can there be peace between them? How can there ever be peace after what she did to Andola?’

‘Oh, so you would pursue her into Norvor, then?’ Onikil’s voice dripped with sarcasm. ‘You would keep the war going to satisfy some point of honour?’ He waited for Breck to answer. Breck ground his teeth quietly. ‘No, of course you wouldn’t,’ Onikil went on. ‘You’d gladly let Jazana Carr slink back to Norvor. You’d even let her hold on to Andola if it meant peace for Koth. You see, Sir Breck? I am not the dunce you think.’

Checked by Onikil’s logic, Breck stewed. Onikil’s words worked their way into his brain. His eyes shifted toward Thorin.

‘Maybe he’s right,’ he muttered. ‘Thorin? What do you think?’

For Thorin, it wasn’t about peace at all, though he would never let Onikil know that. Rather, a more sinister plan began hatching in his mind. Was it Kahldris pushing him toward it, he wondered? Or did he hate Jazana Carr so much for all she had done to him? Even the thought of seeing her again stirred something deep and passionate inside him.

Good
, he thought blackly.
Then it will be a crime of passion
.

‘Count Onikil, you are a snake charmer,’ he said softly.

The count smiled as if it were a compliment. ‘Thank you, Baron. I admit, it will do me no harm to bring you back from here. What a great prize I’ll be able to deliver!’

‘And be rewarded for it, no doubt,’ Thorin sneered. All the while he’d been careful not to move his enchanted arm. ‘But there is wisdom in your words. There’s no need for this war. Jazana and I parted on the worst of terms. Perhaps I can talk her out of all this madness.’

Onikil’s face shined with promise. ‘Good decision. Why should the rest of us die because of a lovers’ spat?’ He looked at Breck. ‘Now doesn’t that seem silly? Let’s have peace instead, eh?’

Breck’s mood remained heavy. ‘Baron Glass, you should think carefully on this. You may never walk out of Andola again.’

Thorin raised an eyebrow at him. Had he forgotten the armour? He said, ‘I am not afraid, and it’s the right thing to do.’ Because Onikil wasn’t looking at him, he signalled for Breck to get him out of the room. Breck took the hint.

‘Count Onikil, there are men waiting outside the chamber. They’ll take you to your bodyguards. Tell them to make you comfortable. Tell them it’s my order. They won’t question you.’

‘How about that drink?’ said Onikil, still twitching a bit from his predicament. ‘And some food?’

‘Just tell them outside,’ said Breck. ‘You and I will talk more later.’

Satisfied, Count Onikil walked off and left the giant reading room. Thorin heard him outside, talking to the soldiers and snapping his fingers for food and drink. An arrogant man, thought Thorin, but a sly one. When he was sure the count could no longer hear him, he turned to Breck.

‘Jazana knew what she was doing,’ he said. ‘Did you see how frightened he was? That’s the kind of loyalty she gets
out of men. She promises them the moon and stars, and they do whatever she asks.’

The meeting had depressed Breck. He took the letter from the table and brooded over it. ‘We wouldn’t have surrendered, you know. We still won’t if you change your mind. You don’t have to go meet her, Baron.’

‘Breck, you’re forgetting something,’ said Thorin.

Breck nodded. ‘I know. The armour. It’ll protect you.’

‘No,’ said Thorin. ‘It will do more than protect me. It will let me get right up to that bitch without a worry in the world.’

Puzzled, Breck looked up from the letter. ‘What are you saying?’

Thorin smiled. ‘I’m talking about the end of all our troubles, Breck. I’m talking about the end of Jazana Carr.’

Breck grimaced. ‘You mean murder?’

‘Murder?’ Thorin chewed on the word. It didn’t really fit. ‘No. Justice, rather. With the armour no one will be able to stop me, Breck. They won’t be able to keep me out, and they won’t be able to keep me from escaping, no matter how many men try to stop me.’