Authors: John Marco
The Eyes of God (69 page)
“I can’t tell you his name,” said Breck. He and Gilwyn had agreed to speak only to Jazana Carr. “I can only tell your mistress.”
“Fellow,” began the man, “My name is Rodrik Varl, and I am as close to Jazana Carr as her own silk sheets.” He laughed at his own joke. “Well, not that close perhaps. I’ve not gotten so lucky yet, eh lads?”
The sentries laughed. Other mercenaries began gathering near the gate.
“You can tell me anything you can tell Jazana Carr,” said Varl haughtily, “or you can just turn that fleabag horse of yours around and head back to Reec.”
“We’re not from Reec,” said Gilwyn, riled by the insult. “We’re from Liiria.”
Rodrik Varl’s eyebrows lifted. “Liiria?”
Before Gilwyn could answer, Breck hurried a hand onto his knee and said, “We came from the Reecian side because it was easier to cross the Kryss. But yes, we’re from Liiria.”
“Indeed,” said the man, stroking his chin. “Are you a soldier? Jazana Carr has a thing for soldiers, especially those from Liiria.”
Breck replied simply, “Why don’t I just tell Jazana Carr who I am?”
Rodrik Varl laughed. “Well, you don’t look like much of a threat. The boy, neither. The monkey perhaps. . . .”
More laughing from the mercenaries. Gilwyn bristled, feeling every guffaw like a knife. His face began to redden.
“Look, are you going to let us talk to your queen or not?” he said before he could help himself. “Otherwise we’ll be on our way.”
“Oooh, easy now, boy,” cautioned Rodrik Varl. He waved a finger through the bars. “Talk to me like that again and I’ll have your pet for lunch.”
Breck squeezed Gilwyn’s knee hard with his big hand, an obvious warning to be quiet. He said to the mercenary, “We’ll tell Jazana Carr all she wants to know. But we can’t tell it to you; it’s too important. And if your lady wants to talk about Liiria, I’ll be happy to oblige. Just let us through, all right?”
“Jazana Carr doesn’t like turning away soldiers,” said Rodrik Varl. “You come on in, and I’ll tell her you’re here. Maybe she’ll talk to you, maybe she won’t.”
“Good enough,” said Breck. “My thanks to you.”
The mercenary ordered the gate open, then disappeared into the throngs of the courtyard. As the great gates of Hanging Man swung wide, Gilwyn leaned over and whispered in Breck’s ear.
“This could be a trap.”
Breck shrugged. “So what if it is? We’re not going to find Lukien without their help.”
The sentries stepped aside and let the wagon enter. Breck drove into the courtyard, and the gathered mercenaries soon returned to their business. There were horses and barrels and stablehands in the yard and the familiar sounds of workmen cleaning stalls and women scrubbing laundry. Gilwyn glanced at the main keep, wondering where Rodrik Varl had gone. The turret of the fortress rose high above, piercing the blue sky. A handful of mercenaries stayed close, watching but not disturbing them. Like all the soldiers, they wore a varied scheme of tunics, mail, and vests from around the continent.
“Blazes, but there’s a lot of them,” said Breck as he spied the many soldiers. “Jazana Carr must be paying well to keep so many men.”
“And they’re all loyal to her?” asked Gilwyn.
Breck laughed. “Loyal? Hardly. Mercenaries are only loyal to one thing.” He rubbed his thumb and fingers together. “Gold. As long as Jazana Carr pays them, they’ll stay with her. But if a better offer comes around this lot will be gone like lightning.” He looked around and, sure no one could hear, added, “Mercenaries are scum, Gilwyn. They’re not like real soldiers, not like Lukien and I were. Remember that.”
Gilwyn nodded, still confused. Hadn’t Lukien become a mercenary? What kind of scum was he, then?
They waited long minutes in the shade of the turret, never leaving their wagon, until Rodrik Varl finally returned. As usual he was grinning when he entered the courtyard, strutting like a rooster and resting his hand nonchalantly on his saber.
“Well?” asked Breck. “Will she see us?”
“She will,” said Varl, “but not right away. You’re a very lucky pair—Jazana Carr wants you to sup with her tonight. I’m to find you some rooms. You can rest till then.”
“Sup with her?” asked Gilwyn. “But we only want to talk to her.”
“Ah, the warlady is a hostess without peer, boy. Don’t beg off a meal with her,” said Varl. Then he winked, adding, “It wouldn’t be wise, anyhow.”
“We appreciate it,” said Breck, “but we really just need a few moments of her time. There’s no need for her to go to any trouble.”
Rodrik Varl, who was probably about Breck’s age, gave a frightening smile. “Laddy, if Jazana Carr says sup with her, you sup.”
Breck and Gilwyn looked at each other. Teku’s tail coiled tightly around Gilwyn’s wrist. They all came to the same quick conclusion.
“You know, I was just telling the boy how hungry I am,” said Breck.
Rodrik Varl took Gilwyn and Breck to a room on the second level of the fortress. The room had a wide window covered with frilled curtains and two beds with wonderfully clean sheets. An unlit hearth graced the center of the chamber, complete with an ornate marble mantelpiece that had obviously been fitted into the spartan fortress after its construction. On the mantel were an assortment of feminine collectibles, little trinkets encrusted with gems and crystal and gold goblets overflowing with rubies. Breck’s eyes bulged at the sight of them; Rodrik Varl laughed at his reaction. Gilwyn went to the mantel and scooped his hand down into a bowl of uncut diamonds, letting the gems fall through his fingers in amazement.
“Are these real?” he asked.
“Aye, they’re real,” said Varl. He threw open the curtains, letting sunlight flood the room. The chamber was exceptionally well appointed, not at all like the quarters of a border outpost. Gilwyn’s eyes danced around the room, impressed with every detail. The rumors of Jazana Carr’s wealth were apparently well-founded, and she’d spared no expense in transforming Hanging Man to suit her exotic tastes.
Breck picked up the goblet of rubies from the mantel, staring at them in disbelief. “Fate above, there’s a fortune here.”
“And another fortune like it in every room,” said Varl. “But don’t think about sticking any in your pockets. If you do, you’ll be discovered. And if you’re discovered, you’ll be hanged.”
Breck returned the goblet to the mantel. “I don’t need Jazana Carr’s charity,” he said stiffly. “Still, I didn’t know she was so wealthy.”
“She wasn’t always,” said Rodrik Varl. “She started poor and worked for what she has, and she’s been gaining wealth and territory ever since. Ah, but I’ll let her tell you that herself! Jazana Carr likes to brag.”
Breck scoffed at their gilded surroundings. “Apparently she likes to show off, too.”
Varl merely smiled and headed for the door. “My lady usually eats at sundown,” he said. “Rest until then. I’ll come get you when it’s time.”
“Before you go,” said Breck, “tell me something. What you said down at the gate, about being close to Jazana Carr; are you her man? I mean, is that what she pays you for?”
Varl tossed his head back and laughed. “Me? No, stranger, I’m not that lucky. I look after Hanging Man for her, and that’s all. She’s got another to look after her bed. Like I told you, she’s got a thing for Liirians.”
The mercenary left without saying more. Breck turned to Gilwyn with a wicked grin.
“Hear that?” he asked. “She likes Liirians. Sleep lightly, boy. Maybe she likes younger men.”
“Please, don’t,” groaned Gilwyn. His foot was aching and he was in no mood for jokes, so he chose one of the beds and stretched out on the soft mattress. Teku nuzzled against his clubbed hand. “Close the curtains, will you?” he asked.
He heard Breck draw the fabric over the windows. The world darkened.
“Sleep now,” said Breck. “Maybe tonight we’ll get some answers.”
Exhausted, they both fell quickly to sleep.
When they finally awoke it was much later. Rodrik Varl had opened the door, loudly calling out for them to get up.
“It’s time, lads,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Gilwyn opened his groggy eyes. Teku was on his chest, staring up at the red-haired mercenary. Rodrik Varl reached out to touch her, but she hissed at him and pulled away.
“Nice pet,” said Varl sourly. “Come on. Jazana Carr is waiting for you.”
Gilwyn sat up and saw Breck shaking sleep from his head. “All right,” he told the mercenary. “Just give us a few minutes to clean up.”
“There’s a chamber pot under your bed,” said Varl as he left the room. “I’ll wait for you down the hall. Be quick.”
When he was gone, Breck and Gilwyn did their business, washed in the basin of clean water on the table between their beds, and generally straightened themselves for their meeting. Outside their chamber they found Rodrik Varl waiting for them, leaning against the stone wall and whistling merrily. His tune carried easily down the empty hallway.
“This way,” he said, waving them forward.
With Teku perched on Gilwyn’s shoulder, the pair followed Varl through the hall. Like the corridors of Lionkeep, this one was narrow and made of stone, with a floor of polished timber. But Jazana Carr had added more of her feminine flourishes to the hall, brightening it with flowers and flamboyant tapestries. As they descended a staircase, Gilwyn noticed columns of weapons along the wall, all polished to a grand luster and encrusted with jewels. In fact, there were jewels everywhere. The corridors were filled with nude statues, each with a sparkling gem in its navel. Dusty portraits hung on the walls, their frames rimmed with rubies. Diamond pendants swung from the servants that passed them in the hall, encircling their necks like expensive slave collars. Up ahead, the oak doors of a great banquet room were open wide. Above the doors, a giant emerald lay in the stone arch, staring at them like the eye of an immense dragon. The emerald alone seemed priceless to Gilwyn, but beyond the doors glimmered the hints of still more fortunes. A grand table had been set with shining silverware and golden candelabras. Both ends of the table disappeared into the unseen confines of the room. Gilwyn and Breck approached the chamber carefully, then heard music issuing over its threshold, the soft, pliant melody of a lute. Rodrik Varl paused beside the doors, waiting for them to catch up. When they did, he entered the room to announce them.
“My lady,” he said simply, “here they are.”
Varl stepped aside for the pair to enter, revealing the vastness of the chamber and the entire length of the table. A trio of huge round windows flooded the room with sunlight, their wavy stained glass reflecting colors off the walls and crystal stemware. Near the center window stood the lutist, smiling as he softly plied his instrument. Dressed in red velvet and lace, he had a woman’s beauty, but he was nothing compared to the figure that rose when Gilwyn and Breck entered the room.
Like every one of her polished jewels, Jazana Carr was exquisite. She rose to her feet with grace, smiling with teeth as dazzling as the diamonds she wore on every finger. Long hoops of gold dangled from her ears and fine chains of platinum hung from her neck, and around her forehead was a scarlet ribbon pulling back her auburn hair, pinned with a golden brooch. She had a breathtaking face, mature but flawless, with ruby-painted lips and eyes the color of the deep ocean. When she saw the two strangers she stretched out her arms in welcome, revealing silver bracelets beneath her purple gown. Gilwyn stopped on the threshold to gape at her. In all his life he had never seen a more striking figure. Seeing her was like looking at a rainbow.
“Welcome, friends,” she said. The music of the lute only complemented her honey-sweet voice. It was a strong voice, belying the grace of her features. Clearly she was a woman of mature years, but her skin, like her voice, was glassy smooth. Her feline eyes fell upon Gilwyn, bewitching him at once. “Please come in.”
Rodrik Varl guided them further into the room. Tearing free of Jazana Carr’s gaze, Gilwyn studied the table. His empty stomach growled. The Diamond Queen had turned out a feast, an incredible selection of breads and meats and fish and fruit, all piled high on mirror-bright platters and steaming porcelain tureens. As if by magic, a pair of servants Gilwyn hadn’t noticed before came alive, emerging from the far corner of the chamber. They flanked the table on either side of their mistress, each pulling out a chair with their white-gloved hands.
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