The Sword Of Angels (Gollancz S.F.) (49 page)

‘Of course, my lady!’ In his button down shirt and red silk sash, Jashien looked splendid, a true herald of the king. ‘I thought I had done with the duty of protecting you. Too soon, I see. You can rest tonight, Princess. We’ll set out in the morning. Your father must have news of you.’

‘No,’ said Aztar.

Salina looked at him, confused. So did Jashien.

‘Prince Aztar?’

‘You may go in the morning, but not with the princess. She is staying.’

‘Aztar?’ probed Salina.

‘My lady, let Vala damn me for this, but I won’t have you taken back to Ganjor to be paraded through the streets just to ease your father’s politics.’

‘What?’ Jashien sputtered. He looked at his princess. ‘My lady . . .’

‘Aztar, I can stay with you?’

Aztar put up his hand, ignoring her question. He looked at the soldiers squarely. ‘Go back to your king,’ he ordered. ‘Tell them that his daughter is safe and well, but that I will not be the one to return her to him. You may stay the night or longer, but when you return home it will just be the two of you.’

‘Prince Aztar, I cannot accept that,’ said Jashien. ‘I was sent to bring back the king’s daughter. And now . . . what? A ransom?’

‘Nothing so despicable,’ said Aztar. ‘She has asked for sanctuary here, and I am granting it.’

‘But you cannot! She belongs to the king!’

‘I belong to no one, Jashien,’ Salina fired back. ‘I am my own woman. I make my own choices. You may tell that to my father.’

Jashien laughed. ‘And you condone this? Really, Prince Aztar, think on what you’re saying. This girl has no right to ask your aid. If you give it, you’ll only invite the king’s anger.’

Aztar nodded darkly. ‘I know this.’

His answer vexed them all. Jashien frowned and looked at Salina. ‘Princess . . .’

‘You have my reply,’ said Salina. She straightened, liberated by Aztar’s protection. ‘Go and tell my father what I’ve told you. Tell him that I am a free woman, with my own free will. Tell him that exactly.’

‘You’re making a mistake, Princess,’ Jashien advised. ‘Please don’t do this.’

But Salina had already made up her mind. It was a decision she’d made weeks ago. She ordered her countrymen to go, and did not wait for them to respond. Instead she took Prince Aztar’s scarred hand and led him back into the tent.

On the river, Lukien’s troubles seemed a thousand miles away, and the towns and farms on the banks lulled him, calling to him to stay. Overhead, the sun was perfect, the way it always was in this part of the world, glistening off the blue water as the barge skimmed quietly across the river’s placid surface. Past the rocky shore where a fishing village clung to the shoals, a range of blue-green mountains reached skyward, crowned with mist. Children gathered on the shore, wading into the river as the barge passed, announcing the Red Eminence of Torlis with a snapping scarlet flag. Wind tugged at the cloud-white sails, filling them with gentle strength. Below deck, unseen by Lukien and Lahkali’s royal entourage, a team of oarsmen waited to paddle the barge when the wind failed. Lukien looked across the shore and waved at the shouting children. They had been at sail for most of the morning and the saline air invigorated him. The children waved back excitedly.

It was called a feruka, this royal boat they sailed, and though the river around Torlis teemed with them none were so grand as Lahkali’s own. She was bigger than the others, a barge of royal bearing, her blonde wood oiled and shining, her stout masts groaning as the wind met the sails. On its top deck sat Lahkali’s entourage, serious-looking men and their gilded wives, shielded from the sun by silk canopies. At the bow, a handful of sailors piloted the ship while most of their comrades remained below, out of sight.

Lahkali herself sat on a throne in the centre of the deck, raised above all the others. To Lukien, she looked radiant, dressed in a white gown that fell only to her knees, her neck and wrists decorated with gold jewelry. The old priest Karoshin sat at her right with a smile on his face, pointing out the landmarks on the bank while Lahkali nodded politely. To Lukien’s great surprise she had reserved the seat at her left for him, a comfortable chair of tawny leather that was shorter than her own but still a good bit grander than those occupied by the others on deck. Among those others was Niharn, the fencing master. Seated near the stern of the
barge, Niharn turned around just as Lukien thought of him. The two shared an insincere smile before the soldier looked away.

It had been nearly two weeks since Lukien had taken over Lahkali’s training. In that time he had worked the girl to near exhaustion, always without Niharn’s help. Lukien had asked nothing of Niharn, and he supposed the old master had taken umbrage at the slight, though he never dared show it. In truth, none of Lahkali’s underlings had been impolite, allowing Lukien full reign over their young ruler to train her as he wished. So far, the process had been difficult, yielding mixed results. Lahkali had not yet worked with the katath, the forked weapon so favoured by her people. She had neither the size nor strength for the one she had been trying to use, and while the smiths of the palace made her one more suited to her stature, Lukien had trained her to fight using sticks instead.

Lukien stole a glance at Lahkali. The Eminence, distracted by Karoshin, did not notice. He smiled, pleased with her. Beneath the lines of her gown he could see the leanness of muscle taking shape, and he knew that behind her white gown, purple bruises had risen. Lahkali had taken some powerful blows during her training, but she had never once cried or broken down in defeat. More importantly, she had done everything he had asked of her, refusing to capitulate even when her body screamed for rest. And that was why he had granted her this day on the river. She had earned it.

Lukien turned fully around to see the bow of the vessel. There, among the sailors in their knotted-button shirts stood Jahan. His friend looked pensive, staring out toward the misty mountains, alone and ignored by the busy sailors. It had taken some convincing before Jahan had agreed to come along. Unlike Lukien, his simple friend from the village had yet to grow accustomed to Torlis or its fabulous palace. Lukien tried to get Jahan’s attention, but the man with the ponytail remained lost in thought, his eyes locked on the riverbank. At last one of the sailors saw Lukien’s gesture. Nudging Jahan, he pointed toward Lukien.

‘
Come here
,’ Lukien mouthed, waving his friend over. Jahan smiled and shook his head. Lukien frowned then waved more insistently. To this, Jahan simply turned away.

‘He is welcome to sit here,’ said Lahkali suddenly. She too had turned to see Jahan. ‘He knows that, Lukien, yes?’

Lukien nodded. Except for Karoshin, the others on deck were mostly out of earshot, a blessing for which Lukien was grateful.

‘He keeps to himself, your friend,’ Karoshin commented. The old priest seemed perturbed. ‘He does not like it here, I think.’

‘We have tried to welcome him,’ Lahkali reminded Karoshin. ‘I do not know what else to do.’

‘Let him be,’ said Lukien. Jahan’s behavior had troubled him for weeks,
but he had already decided there was nothing to be done. He had asked Jahan, to help him train the young Eminence because Jahan was more like them and Lukien wanted the company. Jahan, however, had taken poorly to the city and its inhabitants.

‘It is us,’ said Lahkali. ‘He fears us.’

‘It is
you
, Lahkali,’ said Karoshin. ‘Forgive me for being so precise, but you saw his face when he met you.’

‘Because I am a girl,’ sighed Lahkali. ‘It is always the same. Lukien, are you listening?’

‘I am, Lahkali, but there is nothing I can do about it,’ said Lukien tartly. He continued watching the shore, though by now they had passed the fishing village.

‘You have spoken to him about this?’ asked Karoshin.

Lukien tried to change the subject. ‘Forget about it. It doesn’t matter.’

‘But it troubles you,’ said Karoshin. ‘And if you are troubled than you cannot do your best. And you must do your best to teach Lahkali. That is what troubles me, Lukien.’

Lukien avoided the priest’s glare. ‘I understand, Karoshin. I will do my best. You have my promise.’

‘We trust you, Lukien,’ said Lahkali.

Karoshin turned his probing attention back toward Jahan. ‘He stays with you. He wants to go, that much is plain. Yet he remains.’

‘He stays because he’s loyal,’ said Lukien.

‘Loyal to you?’

‘Yes.’

‘For what reason? He’s not your servant.’

‘He is a friend,’ said Lukien. ‘Don’t you have friends, Karoshin?’

‘Very few! When I was younger I had friends. But now it takes much to make a friend of me. Come now, Lukien, the truth – why does Jahan stay with you?’

Annoyed, Lukien said, ‘Because he thinks he owes me a debt. Because I saved his son from a crocodile, in the river near his home. A hooth, I think he called it.’

‘Ah!’ Karoshin exclaimed. ‘I see.’

‘No you don’t, and don’t look so smug about it.’

‘A hooth?’ Lahkali raised her eyebrows, impressed. ‘Then what you did deserves his loyalty. A hooth could have killed you, Lukien.’

‘No, my lady, it could not have, for I am cursed, you see.’

Lahkali nodded. ‘Your amulet.’

‘And the spirit that keeps me alive, yes. Tell me something – you have never asked me about my amulet, not since that first day. Why not?’

‘Because it does not surprise us,’ said Karoshin.

‘It does not surprise you? A man that cannot die?’ Lukien laughed. ‘Now who needs to be truthful, Karoshin?’

‘Karoshin means that we have our own thoughts on these things, Lukien. We have our own magics that we believe in.’

‘Oh?’

Karoshin spoke before the girl could reply. ‘There are always mysteries, Lukien. As a priest I can tell you that. Like the power of Sercin – to you, that is magic. To you, it is hard to believe that a god can become a snake.’

‘I would believe anything after the things I’ve seen,’ said Lukien.

The conversation wearied him. He returned to studying the shore. The feruka had drifted well past the villages now, entering a quiet part of the waterway where the shore was marked by broad-leafed trees and dense grass. Dark hills rambled among the groves and tangled vines. The water licked laconically at the muddy bank. Intrigued, Lukien decided to ask where they had drifted. Pointing toward the hills, he asked, ‘What is this place? It looks different from the rest of the bank.’

‘This is Amchan,’ said Lahkali. ‘A wild place.’

The crowd on deck came to a hush, enchanted by the calls of wild things issuing from the shore. The women sidled closer to their men.

‘Amchan. Does that have a meaning?’

‘Amchan is an ancient place,’said Lahkali. ‘No men live here. That is what the word means to us – the wild place.’

Lukien leaned forward in his chair. ‘I can hear them, the wild things. What lives there? Birds?’

‘Birds and everything else,’ said Karoshin. ‘When I was a boy, I came here to hunt and to see the rass. They are all through these woods.’

‘Rass? Like the Great Rass?’ asked Lukien.

‘No, the Great Rass is special,’ said the priest. ‘The Great Rass is unlike any other. But yes, there are rass here of every kind and colour. They thrive here because there are not men to frighten them.’

Lukien laughed. ‘Frighten them!’

‘Oh yes, that’s right,’ said Karoshin foxily. ‘I had forgotten that men where you come from fear the rass. But here the rass are revered and keep to themselves, mostly. They are wise enough to avoid people.’

‘Not like the dumb ones back home, eh? Thanks, but I’ll go on fearing them if you don’t mind.’

‘Should you fear them? Is that what you want to teach Lahkali?’

‘Call it respect, then,’ said Lukien.

‘She must slay the Great Rass, not run from it.’

Lukien rolled his eyes. ‘You know what I mean. You know what she’s up against.’

Lahkali, who was in the middle of their argument, held up both hands. ‘Enough now. Karoshin, Lukien knows what he must do to teach me.’

‘That’s right,’ said Lukien, though truthfully he was not quite sure. Fighting a rass wasn’t like fighting a man or even an army. He watched Amchan thoughtfully as its groves drifted by, wondering just how he could ever teach Lahkali to slay such a monster.

‘When will you teach me the katath, Lukien?’

Lukien looked up at the girl. ‘What’s that?’

‘The katath! You haven’t even started teaching me to use it. You won’t even let me touch it.’

‘Oh, the katath.’ Lukien smiled to taunt her. ‘There’s time for the katath.’

‘Yes, but when?’

‘Soon, my lady.’

‘How soon?’

Lukien shrugged. ‘The katath Niharn was using to teach you was too large.’

‘So? We can make another! I am tired of training with sticks, Lukien.’

‘Sticks are weapons, too, Eminence. The katath is just a stick with a knife tied to it.’

Lahkali grew flustered by his evasiveness. She said sternly, ‘The clouds around the mountains will thunder soon, Lukien. When they do the Great Rass will come.’

Karoshin added, ‘She needs to be ready, Lukien.’

‘She will be,’ said Lukien. ‘Soon.’

By late afternoon, the feruka had berthed near a muddy beach of palm trees and sun-baked rocks. Far from the villages they had passed on their way, the beach contained a small, pretty harbour off-limits to fishermen and the other peasants of the riverland. Instead of modest homes, a plain but impressive home had been built near the shore, a sort of retreat for the Red Eminence and her royal family, springing up out of the green grasses and surrounded by swaying trees. Tonight, according to Lahkali, they would all spend the evening at the tiny palace, where servants had spent the day preparing for their arrival.

Lahkali exalted in the sight of the retreat. Far from the rigours of Torlis, here she could escape most of the advisors who plagued her, enjoying the quiet of the river and its shore. As usual, she was first to depart the feruka, excusing herself from Lukien and telling him that the staff of the palace would see to his needs. Lahkali was anxious to get away, and after greeting her servants she escaped from Karoshin and Lukien, heading toward the back of the grand home where few ever ventured. Here, a tributary of the river diverted into a sandy stand of trees and rocky outcroppings, where newborn fish gathered in a shallow pond. Whenever she came to the
palace on the river, Lahkali always went to the pond to see the fish and tadpoles. This time, though, she discovered something else.