The Sword Of Angels (Gollancz S.F.) (37 page)

‘I hear the water,’ she remarked.

‘That’s right.’

For some reason she feared the bridge. In their first week together, Lorn had brought her to it, asking her to cross it without his help. He had thought it the easiest of tasks, designed to boost her shattered confidence. White-Eye had refused. She had refused ever since.

‘Let’s sit,’ she suggested. ‘Near the water.’

Surprised by her request, Lorn guided his horse to the edge of the stream where a week earlier he had sat with Eirian. Then, they had brought a blanket to spread across the sand. Lorn dismounted, then helped White-Eye down from the horse, loosely tying the beast to a nearby tree. In the darkness it was difficult to see, but his eyes had adjusted, mostly, and the moonlight on the water made things easier. Hoping White-Eye had decided to try the bridge again, he decided not to rush her, guiding her down to the warm sand where she sat, cross-legged.

He dropped down next to her, his old joints groaning at the effort. The nearby bridge looked serene, empty and dark, but White-Eye had turned her face from it. Because of her great sensitivity to light, she wore a long scarf around her head that she could quickly wrap around her milky eyes, but in the darkness of midnight she had no need of it. Still, she never left the palace without the scarf, a reminder to Lorn of the painful ordeal she had endured just weeks before, when she had lost her Akari.

They sat together in silence, leaving Lorn puzzled but pleased. Whenever they went scouting, White-Eye was in a hurry to return to the palace, but tonight she was thoughtful and governed her tongue. Lorn glanced at her, not staring even though she could not see him. Before them, the desert city rose up, its towers and homes dark and peaceful. On the west side of Jador, Lorn could see the shadows of the palace stark against the distant mountains. He yawned, feeling the day’s activities at last catching up to him. White-Eye heard his yawn and grinned.

‘We can go back now, if you wish.’

‘No,’ said Lorn. ‘I want to stay. We need to talk, you and I.’

White-Eye nodded. ‘I could tell there are things on your mind,’ she said. ‘And I have things to say as well.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes.’ The girl collected herself, pursing her lips as she thought. She was a beautiful young woman, and it was easy to see why Gilwyn adored her. With her long fingers clasped in her lap, she said, ‘I have noticed what you have done for Jador. You think I do not care, but I do. Everyone is grateful to you, King Lorn. They speak about it to me, how you have helped them rebuild. You have helped them feel strong.’

‘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 walked 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.’