The Devil's Armour (Gollancz S.F.) (53 page)

BOOK: The Devil's Armour (Gollancz S.F.)
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In the palace of Jador, Minikin had a little bed in a room of her own. It had been hers for many years, more years than she cared to count, and was given to her by Kadar, her dead friend, during their first years together. Back then, the bond between Jadori and Inhuman was new and untested, but Kahan Kadar had trusted Minikin and so had given her a room in his fine palace, a place where she could be alone and rest whenever she came to the city after crossing the desert. In those days, Minikin had never stayed too long in Jador. Always anxious to return to Grimhold, the city was merely a place to rest and meet with her old friend Kadar, just long enough for them to catch up.

Lately, though, Minikin had been spending a great deal of time in the city. Jador had a myriad of problems that required her attention, and training Gilwyn had consumed most of her days. The boy who was now a young man was progressing well; Minikin was proud of him. He was quickly mastering the gift the Akari had given him. Already he could see clearly through the eyes of the kreel Emerald and his monkey Teku, and day by day he found it easier to slide into the netherworld where his Akari Ruana dwelt. They were bonding, and that was good.

Minikin was content in Jador, except for the increasing frequency of raider sightings. Prince Aztar and his Voruni tribesmen had been bold lately. Though the Seekers continued to reach the city, more and more of them fell
victim to the ‘Tiger of the Desert’, as Aztar called himself. He was a cruel man, certainly, for none but the cruellest could cut down women and children. Minikin supposed Aztar had his reasons. But his logic was dark and twisted, turning his love for the desert into madness.

Thankfully for them all, Lukien continued to battle Aztar’s men. The Bronze Knight and his immortal-making amulet had become a legend among the raiders, and they were right to fear him. So far, none of them had stood successfully against Lukien, and Minikin knew that none of them ever would. Though they continued to challenge him, Lukien would continue to slay them. He had the Eye of God around his neck, and against such as the raiders, it made him invincible.

Tonight, Lukien was out in the desert. Again. He returned less often to Jador these days, preferring the quiet comfort of the endless sand dunes to the company of his Jadori hosts. On those occasions that he did return – tanned reddish-brown by the relentless sun – he told stories of his clashes with the Voruni, saying how badly he needed to continue the fight. He was not lying, Minikin knew, but she also knew that the desert gave Lukien solace. He was a soldier, and while he was soldiering he did not think of Cassandra or all that he had lost.

Tonight, Minikin slept. She had spent the day tutoring Gilwyn in the hills around the city and so fell easily to sleep when she climbed into bed. Around her neck the Eye of God glowed warmly, lulling her. Her bodyguard Trog slept in an adjacent room, in a bed much larger and sturdier than her own. They were not grand rooms but they were comfortable, and both giant and midget were content.

In her quiet chamber Minikin slept peacefully, for she had learned long ago how to put her troubles onto a shelf for another day. In the hundreds of years that she had lived, she had learned the value of a good night’s sleep. Tonight, though, a visitor interrupted her dreams. It was not often that Lariniza came to her, and when she did it always
startled Minikin. Lariniza, the beautiful Akari that inhabited her amulet, reached across the void between the living and the dead and spoke to Minikin.

‘Hear me, Minikin . . .’

In her small bed, Minikin opened her eyes and saw that her room had changed. She was still asleep, she knew, but unafraid.

‘I hear you, Lariniza.’

‘See me.’

Minikin sat up, but did not feel her body move as she did so. Her open yet sleeping eyes looked around the chamber. The walls of the room shimmered. At the foot of the bed the Akari woman appeared, forming out of nothing. She was tall and lithe, and her pretty face regarded Minikin gravely.

‘Lariniza.’ Minikin spoke as if in a fog. ‘What is it?’

‘You must wake, Minikin, and return at once to Grimhold,’ said the spirit. ‘You are needed.’

Minikin searched her confused mind. ‘Needed?’

‘Go to Grimhold,’ said Lariniza. ‘Tonight. Find the Bronze Knight and bring him with you.’

‘Lukien? But he’s in the desert. I don’t know where.’

‘Have the boy Gilwyn find him. You must leave for Grimhold.’

Her words alarmed Minikin, who struggled to understand. ‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘Lariniza, tell me.’

‘Peril,’ replied the Akari woman. Her glowing face frowned. ‘For all of us, perhaps.’

At last the horrible possibility dawned on Minikin. She hesitated before voicing her fear. ‘The armour?’

‘Amaraz is needed, Minikin. He will tell you all. Have Lukien come to Grimhold.’

‘Lariniza, what if I can’t find Lukien? Can Amaraz not speak with him? As you speak to me?’

‘Gilwyn can find Lukien,’ said Lariniza. For some reason, she refused to explain herself. ‘Now you must wake. Tell Gilwyn of your need and return to Grimhold.’

Minikin nodded her sleeping head. She was too confused to argue, and she had her directive. She watched Lariniza fade into the air, then set her head back down on the pillow. At once she slipped back into sleep, then forced herself awake. She sat up, gasping from the experience, and looked around the room which had now returned to normal. Her heart beat furiously in her chest.

‘Lukien,’ she whispered to herself. She had to find him.

Tossing her tiny feet over the bed, she hurried into her robe and left the bedchamber in search of Gilwyn.

Since his days in the great library, Gilwyn Toms loved quiet places. Back in Koth, he had had a private hiding spot along a high ledge of his scholarly home, where he and Teku could escape the hectic work of day and be alone to read or think. It was where he had first seen Cassandra and fallen in love with her, wrongly thinking her no older than himself because of the magic that kept her forever young. When he had come to Jador he missed the solace of the library, but soon found his own place among the many rooms of the grand palace, a tiny shaded garden filled with greenery and adorned by a tiny fountain that gurgled peacefully among the plants. At night, when the hot wind from the desert subsided, the garden became Gilwyn’s private oasis, a place where – like his hiding spot in Koth – he could consider the many things that had happened during the day.

It was very late when Minikin came to him in the garden, and Gilwyn was nodding off over a book of old Jadori texts. The news she delivered jolted him awake.

There was no time for Minikin to explain. She was already dressed and ready for the road, and had sent Trog to the stables to prepare their mounts and escort. She told him that something grave had happened and that she needed to leave for Grimhold at once.

‘Minikin, what is it?’ he insisted. His fears turned immediately toward White-Eye. ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’

‘I do not know,’ she told him honestly. ‘I have seen Lariniza, Gilwyn. She told me to return to Grimhold.’

Gilwyn knew Lariniza was Minikin’s Akari, the spirit that dwelled within her amulet. She was a leader among the Akari, like her brother Amaraz, and her words were something to be heeded. Gilwyn closed his book and stood in confusion before his tiny mentor.

‘It’s late. You won’t even be able to see where you’re going.’

‘The kreel will take us there,’ said Minikin. ‘They know the way, you know that.’

‘If it’s White-Eye I want to go with you,’ he insisted. ‘Emerald and I can guide you better than anyone else.’

Minikin shook her head. ‘I don’t think it’s White-Eye, Gilwyn. And you cannot go – you have something else to do. You must find Lukien, tell him to return to Grimhold at once.’

Now Gilwyn was truly stunned. ‘Minikin, I don’t know where Lukien is. How am I supposed to find him?’

‘Use your gift, Gilwyn, the way I’ve been teaching you. Ask Ruana to help you.’

‘My gift?’ sputtered Gilwyn. ‘But how?’

‘Ruana will guide you, show you the way.’ Minikin put out her little hand and touched his arm. ‘I have no more time to talk, Gilwyn. You must do this thing somehow. If what I think has happened, we will need Lukien. He and the amulet must come to Grimhold so that I may speak with Amaraz.’

None of it made sense to Gilwyn. He said, ‘I’ll try, Minikin. But if I fail . . .’

‘You will not fail.’ She flashed him one of her wry smiles. ‘Think only of success.’

And then she left him, disappearing from the garden with a quick twirl of her colourful coat. Worried and confused, Gilwyn simply stood mutely for a moment, wondering what to do. He hadn’t heard from Lukien in days; he could have been anywhere out in the desert. Certainly he would never
find him in the dark, even with Emerald and their magical bond. He needed another way to contact his friend. Could Ruana help him?

He sat down again on his iron chair and considered the idea. His hands and face began to sweat. He had made progress with Ruana; that was certain. Gilwyn had impressed Minikin, and himself. Now he could communicate with Emerald better than he ever had before, and his closeness with Teku was staggering. The monkey swung down from the branches of a fruit tree to sit on the table before him. As if reading his mind, the faithful creature nodded. Gilwyn reached out to scratch her furry head.

‘I don’t know, Teku,’ he said. ‘How do I find Lukien?’

He knew only that Lukien was in the desert. The Inhuman albino Ghost was with him, as were a handful of Jadori warriors.

‘Ruana won’t know where he is,’ said Gilwyn crossly. He looked at Teku. ‘Will she?’

The monkey’s answer was predictable. She yawned as he scratched her head.

‘Right.’

Gilwyn leaned back in his seat and tried to clear his mind. Summoning Ruana wasn’t difficult any more. It wasn’t even like summoning, really. He only had to think of her. He closed his eyes and thought of her then, and instantly felt her presence in his mind. She always came to him like a warm wind.

You are troubled
.

The remark annoyed Gilwyn. ‘You heard what Minikin said, didn’t you?’

I’m always listening, Gilwyn
.

‘Then you know there’s trouble,’ he said. He often spoke aloud to her, though there was no real need for it. ‘I have to find Lukien, Ruana. Somehow.’

How then?

‘You tell me. Minikin said you’d help.’

I will help you to help yourself
, replied the spirit.

‘All right. I need to find Lukien. Tell me how.’

In his mind the woman seemed to sigh.
You have your gifts, Gilwyn. Have you forgotten?

‘No, but Emerald isn’t with Lukien. Neither is Teku. How can I reach him?’

You have power over the kreel. The Jadori warriors with Lukien have kreels
.

Gilwyn grew exasperated. ‘Please, Ruana, I don’t understand what you mean and I don’t have time to figure it out. I need your help.’

Then prepare yourself
, ordered the Akari.
Keep your eyes closed and your mind clear
.

‘Prepare myself? What for?’

Keep your mouth closed, too. The aura of Amaraz is strong. I will find him
.

Gilwyn struggled with her answer but did not argue. He trusted Ruana, and though he didn’t know what she had planned he knew she would help him. Sitting comfortably in his chair, he freed his mind of questions. A moment later, the sense of flying over the desert struck him with awe.

For Lukien, nights in the Desert of Tears were a salve.

Each day, he battled the sun and the sand and the raiders that constantly challenged him. He rescued Seekers from Prince Aztar, and sometimes he failed to keep them safe, coming across their slaughtered corpses in the dunes. While the sun was up, Lukien was at constant war. He had been at war for months now, and had lost count of how many men he had slain in the desert. The white gaka he wore against the sun was soiled with blood and sweat. The amulet chafed against his skin. For Lukien and those that accompanied him, keeping Jador safe from Aztar was a difficult, toll-taking duty. Bitter days in the desert exhausted them all.

But at night, when the world grew quiet and the sun surrendered, peace returned to the desert. Lukien had learned to worship the night. The moon had become his
god. Finally, night brought the end of killing. He could relax by the fire with his comrades, tell stories of the world beyond Jador, and forget that his war with Aztar had no end. Tonight the Jadori warriors slept. The fire they used to warm themselves against the surprising chill of the desert had subsided to a mild smoulder. Nearby, the kreels they rode were bedded for the night, nestled into the sand to warm their cold blood. There was no need for ropes with kreel. The huge reptiles never strayed or disobeyed their masters. The same was not true of Lukien’s horse, which stood obediently, as long as it was tied to a stake driven into the sand.

Lukien lay back against his elbow, staring at his silent mount as he sipped from a skin of wine. It would be so easy for the beast to bolt, he decided, if only it were smart enough to know the weakness of its ties. Horses weren’t like kreels. They weren’t nearly as smart or as fast or as loyal. Kreels were remarkable. He envied the others their abilities.

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