Authors: John Marco

The Eyes of God (14 page)

BOOK: The Eyes of God

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Jancis rolled her eyes. “I can see you won’t let me get any of my knitting done today.”

“He is though, isn’t he, Jan? Handsome, I mean?”

“Stop being wicked,” said Jancis. She looked around for unwelcome ears. “You’re engaged, Cass. Have you forgotten?”

Cassandra hadn’t forgotten. In fact, she kept drawing comparisons between Lukien and her husband-to-be. Akeela was sweet and charming in his own nervous way. And he was a great man, at least that’s what everyone was saying. She knew she was lucky to have him. But he was also bookish and overly polite, with none of Lukien’s roughness. All her life Cassandra had been surrounded by people like Akeela. She realized suddenly how tired she was of men with breeding.

“It’s nice to daydream,” she said softly. She put down her brush, plainly staring now across the water. Benn and Lukien were laughing and sharing some cheese. A lute player was nearby, as were several of Linuk’s friends. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the picnic—except Cassandra. It wasn’t the pain in her stomach that bothered her anymore. Since coming to Glain that had mostly subsided. Now it was a different ache that seized her, much less physical than the one that had kept her on the chamber pot.

“I want to go riding,” she decided suddenly. “With Lukien.”

“What?” Jancis put down her knitting and stood. “Cass, don’t.”

“Why not? It’s my only opportunity. No one here will care.”

“What about your father?”

“My father’s twenty miles from here.” Cassandra pulled the canvas over her painting, hiding it from prying eyes. “I want to talk to him.”

Jancis huffed forward. “That’s why you wanted to come here, isn’t it?” she asked. “You just wanted a chance to be alone with him.”

When Cassandra didn’t answer, Jancis sighed.

“Please, Cassandra, don’t be stupid. Just forget it, all right?”

“I don’t want to forget it,” said Cassandra. “I want to find out why he’s been staring at me.” She looked at her friend imploringly. “I want to find out about
him.
”

Jancis shook her head in resignation. Cassandra gave her a smile.

“You’re a dear. Look after the painting for me, will you?” she said, then started back across the bridge. Lukien noticed her at once. He stood up, as did the others, bowing his head in greeting.

“I want to go riding,” Cassandra declared. She looked at Linuk’s servants. “Fetch me two horses, please.” Then she looked at Lukien. “You’ll come with me.”

The knight’s face drained of color. “What?”

“You’ll ride with me, keep me safe. You’re my protector, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then protect me. My father wouldn’t want me riding off without you.”

Lukien swallowed hard. “All right, my lady,” he managed. “I’ll ask some others to come with us as well.”

“No,” said Cassandra, brushing past him. “I came to Glain to get away from the noise of the city, not to drag it along by the tail. You alone will be quite enough, Lukien.”

As she passed, heading toward the house to change into her riding gear, she heard Lukien’s astonished gasp. A small, satisfied smile crept onto her face.

To Lukien’s surprise, Cassandra was an excellent rider. She hadn’t needed his assistance to mount or guide her horse, and in fact she led the way through the rolling hills of Glain, hardly speaking or even turning to regard him. Her silence was a pretense, Lukien knew, and it bothered him. She had surprised him with her request to go riding, then had once again turned into her stony, familiar self. As she rode a few paces ahead, taking full notice of the meadow and none of him at all, Lukien watched her in fascination. He even felt a little nervous. Or was it guilt?

They were far from Linuk’s house now, far from the other picnickers and servants, in a meadow of swaying grass surrounded by gentle slopes. Lukien could see no one for miles, just the birds and creatures that called the meadow home. They rode at an easy pace, Cassandra occasionally pausing to gaze at the open sky or steal a leaf from a tree. It had been nearly an hour since they’d left the others and her mood had quieted. She wasn’t quite the insistent princess she had been earlier, but she wasn’t a companion, either. It was as if she were riding alone, and Lukien kept a respectful distance, silently spying on her. A warm breeze blew across the meadow, stirring her hair. Cassandra tucked the ebony strands behind her ear, then looked around with a satisfied nod.

“We’ll stop here,” she said.

Lukien shifted in his saddle. “Stop? I thought you wanted to go riding.”

“I want to rest now,” she said as she slid from her horse. She smiled as she surveyed the meadow, enchanted by the sunlight on the grass. There was a patch of buttercups nearby. Cassandra sat down next to it and folded her legs beneath her. She stuck her nose into the flowers, became frightened by a bee, then plucked one of the blooms. Seeing Lukien still mounted, she sighed, “Please come down. I won’t hurt you.”

Embarrassed, Lukien dropped from his horse and towered over her. “Earl Linuk will be worried about you. We should head back.”

“We haven’t been gone that long,” said Cassandra. “And I have that old dear Linuk wrapped so tightly around my finger he can barely breathe. I could be gone for a week and weasel my way back into his graces in a minute. Now relax. You’re making me nervous.”

Lukien remained standing over her, unsure what to do. He felt awkward. He looked around for something—anything—to occupy him. Cassandra noted his nervousness and chuckled.

“Sit, Lukien,” she said. For the first time she gave him a genuine smile as she gestured to the grass beside her. “Here.”

Lukien at last sat down. His eyes darted around the meadow, praying that no one could see him. Cassandra gazed across the plain, sighing happily. Her face glowed with sunlight and a look of deep satisfaction. It was easy to tell how much she enjoyed being away from Hes. Without her father or sisters shadowing her, she didn’t seem like a child anymore. Lukien let his eyes linger on her a bit too long.

“You’re staring at me,” she said.

Lukien turned his head. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve been looking at me a lot, I’ve noticed,” said the princess.

“Forgive me, my lady. I meant no offense.” Lukien groped for an explanation. “I’m supposed to protect you, after all. It’s hard to do that unless I look at you.”

Cassandra’s smile grew sly. “Oh.”

Lukien picked a blade of grass andtwirled it between his fingers. “It’s my job, you see.”

“Yes, I see. Thank you for explaining it to me. I was curious.”

“Well, that’s all right, then.”

Cassandra didn’t stop smiling. “Yes.”

Lukien cleared his throat. For some reason, he couldn’t keep himself from asking, “But you were curious?”

“Oh, yes,” said Cassandra. She played with the flower in her hand. “I mean, you were staring at me so intently across the pond, I was wondering why. I thought perhaps you found me . . . interesting.”

A tiny terror seized Lukien. He knew he’d crossed a line suddenly, and didn’t know how to respond. Cassandra was baiting him. Bolstered by the privacy and ignoring his guilt, he said, “You are interesting, my lady. You’re different from most women I’ve known.”

“Am I? Tell me.”

Lukien tried a smile. “You are very beautiful and talented, and no man can resist that. But you are also refined.”

Cassandra laughed. “Oh, but you live in the king’s castle. You are surrounded by refined women, sir.”

Yes
, thought Lukien blackly.
Surrounded and doomed to never touch them.

He didn’t tell Cassandra how he longed to be with a princess instead of a harlot, or how Liirian women of breeding were reserved for dukes and barons. He said instead, “Still, you are different. You can paint and you can dance. You can even ride a horse. I think you are a mystery, my lady. And that interests me.”

Cassandra brightened, not showing the slightest hint of offense. “And you interest me, sir. Here in Reec you are the Bronze Knight.”

“I’m called that in Liiria as well, my lady.”

“Ah, but in Liiria you are a hero, while here in Reec you are a villain.”

Lukien bristled. “I am no villain.”

“But you kill people. I have heard the stories. They say you are a berserker in battle. My Uncle Raxor once told me that you killed twelve men in the battle of Redthorn, even after he had called retreat.” Cassandra looked at him squarely. “Is that so?”

“I’m a soldier, my lady. I do the bidding of my king. When there’s war, I fight.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed on him. “But you love it, don’t you? I can see it in you. You love to fight.”

“It is what I am best at,” Lukien replied. He studied the blade of grass in his hand, then noticed the flower in Cassandra’s. The comparison made him laugh. He was like the grass—utterly common. And Cassandra was certainly a flower. But he had tried to be more than just a blade of grass. He had tried to distinguish himself through battle. “I won’t apologize for what I am, my lady,” he said. “You are royal. You don’t know what it means to be a commoner.”

Cassandra seemed perplexed. “But you’re not a commoner. You’re a knight.”

“I am a knight now, true. People call me ‘sir,’ but it wasn’t always so.”

The princess leaned closer. “Tell me. I want to know about you.”

“I was an orphan, living on the streets of Koth. My father abandoned us and my mother died shortly thereafter. I was alone and had to fend for myself. And Koth is a big city, my lady. Bigger than Hes. It’s not a place for a boy to grow up alone.”

“How did you survive?” asked Cassandra.

“How does anyone survive on the streets? I stole. And I worked, when I could. The smithies were always looking for boys to exploit. They drove us like slaves. I lived like that for almost four years, all alone.” A smile cracked Lukien’s face. “Until I met Akeela.”

Cassandra noticed his grin. “You’re very fond of each other, aren’t you?”

Lukien nodded. Despite all the arguments he’d had with Akeela, he truly loved him.

“And you are Akeela’s champion? You protect him?”

“I protect him because I love him, because he is the closest thing I have ever had to a brother,” said Lukien. “And I protect him because he is the son of King Balak, whom I adored.”

“But he is a mystery to me,” said Cassandra. “I know so little about him, and who better to tell me about him than you? Do they really call him ‘Akeela the Good’ in Liiria?”

“They do,” said Lukien, laughing. “And it’s a name he deserves, believe me.”

“So he is a good man?”

“Oh, yes.”

“And will he make me a good husband?”

Lukien looked at her again. Her face had changed, set with worry. He told her, “My lady, Akeela is the dearest man I’ve even known. It’s why I pledged myself to him, and why I followed him here to Reec. There is no evil within him. He’s not capable of harming anyone, least of all you. Are you looking for a gentle husband? A man who will honor and worship you, and ask himself every day how best to make you happy? If you are, then you have found him, my lady.”

Their eyes remained locked, and for a moment they shared a thought, wondering exactly who Lukien had just described. Lukien felt his face grow warm with embarrassment. He looked away.

“Akeela will be a good husband, and a good king,” he said. “You will be happy with him, my lady.”

Cassandra was quiet. The flower in her hand had dropped to her lap. Now she was the one who was staring.

“You are not what I expected,” she said softly. “You aren’t a villain. I think you are . . .” She stopped herself, changing direction. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you, Sir Lukien. You must think me a shrew.”

“Don’t apologize, my lady. If your Uncle Raxor came to Koth, I’d probably treat him the same way.”

“No,” said Cassandra. “I must apologize.” She reached out and touched Lukien’s hand. “Since Akeela is so fond of you, then you and I should be friends, too.”

The touch of her hand was magical. Slowly Lukien let his eyes drift back to her, and saw in her expression something far worse than friendship.

“Yes, my lady,” he said. “Friends.”

Cassandra’s lovely face shone, but then went horribly twisted. She jerked back her hand with a cry, putting her hands to her stomach and doubling forward. Startled, Lukien rose and knelt beside her.

“My lady?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

The girl let out a horrible gasp. Her eyes were clamped with pain.

“Princess? What is it?”

Barely able to put up a hand, Cassandra moaned, “Nothing . . . I’m all right.”

“No you’re not.” Lukien took hold of her arm. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s nothing,” Cassandra insisted through gritted teeth. She was on the verge of tears.

BOOK: The Eyes of God

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