The Sword Of Angels (Gollancz S.F.) (30 page)

Why, she wondered, had he waited so long? She had expected her torture days ago. She stared at the little stool Asher used, sitting forlorn in the corner of her cell, the thin blade of his cherished knife sticking like an arrow from its seat. She could have used the weapon, she supposed, and tried to fight her way out of the prison, but she had always thought that a stupid idea. Asher had purposefully left his knife within her grasp to taunt her, abundantly confidant in her inability to use it. The guards, she knew, would have snapped her like a twig anyway.

‘Why?’ she seethed. ‘Because he enjoys seeing me suffer.’

That was why he had waited so long, when he could have hung her in chains and skinned her days ago. Asher was just a cruel little boy, pulling the wings off butterflies. Not too quickly, or they would die and spoil his fun. But now he was ready. And Mirage was afraid.

She closed her eyes, listening to the distant noises in the dungeon. She had got very good at blocking out the screams, but she heard them now, moaning like wind that never died. Were they enemies of Reec, all of them? Was she? Perhaps. She had admitted her friendship with Baron Glass, and that was enough to condemn her.

‘Then I will die,’ she whispered. She searched her mind for her Akari. ‘Kirsil, will I see you when I die?’

It was a question she had always wondered. All the Inhumans did. Minikin had never told then what would happen when they died, or if
there would be life for them at all after death. It was simply too important a mystery, Minikin had explained, and not for any of them to know. Now, though, her sweet Akari Kirsil answered with sincerity.

‘I think so.’

The answer satisfied Mirage. An accepting calm settled over her. She smiled.

Hours more went by unnoticed. Exhausted from fear, Mirage felt her head begin to totter downward. Her eyelids grew too heavy to keep open, shutting slowly in a flutter. She slept, though just on the surface of sleep, still faintly aware of every sound and the impending footfalls of her captor. Asher’s deformed face twisted through her dreams. She realized with disgust that his would be the last fact she would see before she died. Not Lukien’s or Minikin’s or any other of the Inhumans she had left behind.

She did not realize how much time had gone by, but when she awoke it was to the sounds of boots scraping closer. Mirage awoke with a start, holding her breath and listening. The noise grew louder as the footsteps approached, unhurried. Bracing herself, Mirage got to her feet to meet Asher, determined not to weep or beg. Squaring her shoulders, she watched as a shadow swept across the threshold of her cell, followed by a large silhouette. Not Asher, Mirage realized. The figure stopped in front of the bars, blocking the meagre lamp behind him and holding a cloak and a pair of boots. Mirage squinted, thinking the figure vaguely familiar.

‘You are awake,’ said the man. ‘Good.’

She recognized his voice at once. ‘Chane . . .’

Corvalos Chane had a key in his hand which he expertly used to open her locked cell. As he moved to reveal the light behind him, his stony features came into relief. He looked at her as he unlocked the tumbler and pulled the bars open. There was no smile on his weathered face, only an expression of satisfaction. Stepping into the cell, he tossed the cloak and boots at her naked feet.

‘Dress yourself,’ he said. ‘We’re going.’

Hes the Serene, capital of Reec, spread out around Mirage like a sleeping dragon, twinkling with candlelight and still as a grave. Homes and businesses along the avenues had shut their doors hours ago, and the squat towers of the city brooded over the streets. Fading moonlight carpeted the cobblestones and brown, wooden structures, and the breeze stirred unlocked shutters as it tumbled down the lane. Mirage shivered in her cloak, burying her face in the fur lining. Corvalos Chane’s broad chest pressed against her back as they rode, warming her. Their horse trotted slowly along the empty avenue, making lonely music as its hooves struck the paving stones. Up ahead, the two towers of Castle Hes beckoned,
hanging over the city from their grassy green hill. In the silence of the city, time stretched like syrup. The lateness of the hour had put all of Hes to sleep, as though the capital had fallen under a peaceful spell.

From Asher’s prison on the outskirts of Hes, it had not taken long for the pair to ride this far. Hes was not like Koth, Mirage realized. Instead the city was smaller and more compact, without Koth’s towering spires and tangled alleys. In less than half an hour, Mirage and Chane had left the prison and made it almost to their destination. And in all that time, Chane had barely said a word to her, ignoring her pleas for an explanation. She knew they were going to the castle, and that was all. Mirage shifted on the horse’s back, full of trepidation. She had been exhausted when Chane had come to her cell, and the big man had helped her out of the prison, almost carrying her up the winding stairs. Amazingly, neither Asher nor his guards had stopped them. The lord of the prison had not even come to see her go, a mystery that puzzled Mirage. Chane had helped her onto his horse, and they had simply ridden away from the prison. She was free.

Fighting the chill that had taken her, Mirage huddled the cloak around her shoulders as Castle Hes came clearer into view. ‘I want answers,’ she demanded. ‘Why are we going there?’

‘Sit still.’

Pinned between his arms, Mirage squirmed. ‘Am I to be executed? Is that it? Or do you have some other torture waiting for me?’

‘No torture,’ Chane replied. ‘Unless you prefer going back to Asher. That’s still a possibility.’

‘Chane, tell me what’s going on!’

Corvalos Chane, who had been called the ‘right hand’ of King Raxor, thought for a moment before answering. Mirage twisted to glance over her shoulder. His white eyebrows knitted together.

‘You are wondering why Asher did not harm you,’ he said. ‘Why do you think?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Mirage. The question still vexed her. ‘He could have tortured me. He told me he would.’

‘He did not because I forbade it, when I brought you to him.’

Mirage craned to look at him again. ‘What?’

‘Asher likes his work too much. He was not lying to you, girl. He has a place where he takes his favourite women, and you were a favourite, I could tell.’

‘You saved me? Why?’

‘Because I have seen his handiwork. He is not a man at all. He is a crazed dog.’

Mirage still did not understand. Suddenly she wanted to be down from
the horse, so that she could face Chane properly. ‘Stop,’ she said. ‘Let me

down and explain this to me.’

‘You are expected at the castle.’

‘Let me down!’

Chane heaved a groan and drew their horse to a halt in the middle of the avenue. Mirage knew she could not dismount until he did, and he did not. ‘You’re a harpy,’ he said with frustration. ‘That won’t do at all. If you hear nothing else I tell you, at least listen to this – you are safe from Asher for now, but only for as long as you co-operate. When you get to the castle you can’t act like this.’

Mirage grit her teeth. ‘Chane, if you don’t tell me what’s going on . . .’

‘What? What will you do?’

‘Believe me, I can make enough of a scene to embarrass you.’

‘I believe you.’

Dismounting, Chane slid down gracefully to the cobblestone street. ‘Stay up there,’ he ordered. ‘We won’t be stopping long.’

It was the first time that night Mirage got a good look at him. His weathered features crinkled in the moonlight. ‘I’m ready for an answer,’ she said. ‘Why are you taking me to Castle Hes? Why did you save me from Asher?’

‘I told you that already. Asher would have skinned you alive, just as he promised. It’s what he does.’

‘That’s not all. It can’t be. What do you care what happens to me?’

Corvalos Chane replied, ‘There aren’t many who could stop Asher. In his prison, he’s the master. But being who I am, I have some authority over him.’

‘The king’s man,’ said Mirage. ‘Is that what you mean?’

Chane nodded. ‘When I took you to him five days ago, I told him not to harm you. He resisted, of course. He took an immediate liking to you.’

‘I noticed,’ said Mirage, feeling cold again. ‘But why? Why did you give that order? Not just to save me. That can’t be it. You said yourself I’m an enemy of Reec.’

‘Asher got a lot of good information out of you. I know because I get his reports. For the past two days he’s been begging me to rescind my order. Tonight he sent me a letter. He said that he’d gone far enough, and that he was going to do what was necessary. He was going to disregard my order.’

‘You mean torture me.’

‘That’s right. His lust finally got the better of him. I rode to stop him.’

‘Just like that? He must have protested.’

‘He did,’ Chane admitted. ‘I ignored him. Asher is very bold from a distance, but cowers like a schoolboy when confronted.’

‘So, my interrogation isn’t done, then,’ said Mirage. She glanced away,
unable to face Chane’s probing eyes. ‘That’s why you’re taking me to the castle. You’ll be taking me for yourself.’

‘You still have secrets,’ said Chane. ‘About Baron Glass. About his armour. Don’t deny it, girl. Asher says that you know more, and he is never wrong about such things.’

‘So, you’ll take the pleasure of torturing me yourself, then?’ Mirage glared at Chane, wanting to pepper him with curses. ‘Do what you wish. I’ll tell you nothing.’

‘You would tell me everything I could ever want to know,’ said Chane. ‘An hour with me and you would be begging for death. Asher’s not the only one who can use a knife.’

‘So?’ flared Mirage. ‘Why did you take me away from him? If all you mean to do is kill me . . .’

‘Quiet,’ snapped Chane. ‘You’re not to be tortured. I didn’t save you from that madman just to have you harmed. That’s not why I’m taking you to Castle Hes. There’s something else.’

‘What?’ asked Mirage, dreading his answer.

Chane took hold of the horse’s reins. He looked up at her calmly and said, ‘You’re to be a gift for King Raxor.’

Mirage frowned as if she hadn’t heard right. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You’re to be one of the king’s women,’ said Chane, ‘just as I am the king’s man.’

‘Those mean two different things, though,’ said Mirage, groping for understanding. ‘I’m no man’s slave!’

‘This isn’t slavery, girl.’

‘Yes, yes it is!’ Mirage sputtered. ‘You’re talking about a concubine. What is that, if not a slave?’

‘You are to be one of the king’s women,’ repeated Chane firmly. So that Mirage could not bolt, he kept his fist tight on the horse. ‘It’s been settled.’

‘No!’ Mirage railed. Her mind raced for a way to escape. ‘You saved me for this? I won’t do it.’

‘You will, because you have no choice. King Raxor will love you. I knew it when I first saw you. That’s why I made sure Asher did nothing to you.’

‘So you let him torment me?’

‘Why not?’ Chane barked. ‘I was right about you, girl. You have information.’

‘I won’t give it,’ Mirage promised. ‘Never. Is this your way of trying to make me talk? Another game like Asher played with me? Well his game didn’t work and this won’t either. You can enslave me, make me one of your king’s whores. I won’t tell you what I know. Not ever.’

‘This is not a game,’ Chane assured her. ‘I have already told King Raxor
about you. I promised him a woman of remarkable beauty, a women to make his heart sing.’

‘But that’s not me! And he’s the king! Surely he can have his pick of women.’

‘You.’

Chane began leading the horse along the avenue, resuming their trek toward Castle Hes. Mirage looked desperately around, searching for any way to escape. The quiet city might give ample places to hide, but if she ran Chane would simply mount the horse and stop her. So she tried pleading instead.

‘Listen to me,’ she begged. ‘I won’t be the kind of woman your king wants. If you do this, you’ll just be hurting yourself, Chane. I won’t please your king. I’ll be the worst bitch he’s ever seen.’

‘Then you will be punished,’ said Chane.

‘Stop! Please . . .’

Chane halted, again turning to regard her. ‘Girl, you’re not understanding. You have no choice, except the obvious one. You can either agree to this or be sent back to Asher. Tonight. Asher keeps his knives sharp. He’ll be ready for you.’

‘Be skinned alive or be a whore to your king? That’s no choice at all,’ said Mirage bitterly.

Chane shrugged. ‘But there it is . . .’

He resumed leading the horse down the street. And Mirage was out of answers. She slumped on the beast’s back, all her arguments lost, the last of her hope snuffed out like a candle. Castle Hes loomed in the distance, growing ever closer. She could see its spiked portcullis glowing in torchlight. Her courage withered, and for the first time she cursed her newfound beauty. Even covered in grime, her hair matted with filth, men still lusted for her, men like Asher with their twisted appetites and men like Raxor, always eager to bed some new harlot. For a moment, she had thought that Chane, too, had lusted for her, assuming that to be his motive for saving her. But Chane wasn’t like other men. He was cruel like them, certainly, but he had not heart at all, just the clockworks of a machine spinning in his chest.