Authors: John Marco
The Eyes of God (108 page)
“You shouldn’t have come,” said Akeela softly. “You still might have escaped me.”
Lukien’s expression didn’t change. “No more running,” he said wearily. “I’ve come to give myself up to you, Akeela. Do what you will.”
“Where are the amulets?” Akeela asked.
“I don’t have them.” Lukien shrugged. “They weren’t ours to begin with, Akeela.”
Trager came forward and seized his arm. “Where are they?”
“I don’t have them,” snapped Lukien, shaking off Trager’s grip.
“Who does, Lukien?” pressed Akeela. “Are they in Grimhold?”
Lukien’s gaze narrowed on him. “Did you kill Figgis, Akeela?”
The question rattled Akeela. It was like they were young again, with Lukien in control. “I’ll ask the questions,” he said.
“Did you?” Lukien’s expression was grave, as if he already knew the truth. “He was a good man, Akeela. He was your friend.”
“I have no friends!” raged Akeela. Spit flew from his mouth as he stepped toward Lukien. “Were you my friend, Lukien? Was Cassandra?”
“Yes,” replied Lukien. “We loved you.”
The answer enraged Akeela. His hand shot out and slapped Lukien’s face. “How dare you!” he seethed. “How dare you speak of love to me! Would a man who loved me take my wife? Would a wife who loved me betray my bed? Answer me, you gutter rat!”
Lukien’s face was forlorn. “Yes,” he said simply. “We would.”
“Why did you come?” asked Akeela. His voice was shaking. So were his hands. “Why give yourself up to me?”
“For the sake of the Inhumans,” said Lukien. “The people of Grimhold.”
Akeela blanched. “Inhumans? This is what they call themselves?”
“Yes, but they’re not what you think. They’re special people,” Lukien argued. “They have deformities, some of them, but they’re not weak. And they’re not worthless. They deserve better than to have you slaughter them.”
“Ha!” laughed Trager. “You won’t save them, Captain, or earn our pity.”
Akeela raised a hand to silence him. He asked Lukien, “Did you think you’d find mercy in me? After what you’ve done to me?”
“I’ve come to give myself up,” replied Lukien. “It’s me that you want, I know that. Now you can do whatever you want with me.”
“To save Grimhold?” asked Akeela bitterly. “Nothing more?”
“And because I’ve wronged you,” said Lukien. He looked straight into Akeela’s eyes. “I’ve wronged you, Akeela. And I’ve made a monster of you.”
Akeela stood there, staring and shaking. A monster. Was that what he was now? Did the whole world think so?
“I am not a monster,” he declared. “I’m a great king. I brought wisdom to the world.”
Lukien shook his head. “No. That was your great dream, but that was a long time ago. You’re merciless, Akeela. Look outside that window. Look at the men you’ve crucified.”
“Enemies, Lukien. Men who opposed me. Enemies like you.”
“Then I was right,” said Lukien. “All this is because of me. Well, it can end now.” He stretched out his hands to show how helpless he was. “I’m here, Akeela. I’m yours. Kill me and end this horror.”
“Oh, you will die,” Trager assured him. “But not before you tell us where Grimhold is.” He smiled like a wolf. “And I’m going to enjoy persuading you.”
Lukien ignored him. Instead he kept his gaze on Akeela. “You can torture me but I won’t tell you. The Inhumans are good people and I won’t betray them.”
“No,” spat Akeela. “You’d never betray a bunch of freaks. Just your own king!”
“Look at me, Akeela. I’m finished. You’ve beaten me. Spare the Inhumans. They’ve done nothing to you.”
Akeela studied Lukien’s ruined face, the deep lines in his red skin. The sight was overwhelming. “Yes,” he said softly. “I have beaten you, haven’t I?” He reached out and gingerly touched Lukien’s eyepatch, carefully probing the flesh. Lukien winced but did not pull away. “How did this happen?”
“In Norvor,” replied Lukien. “A long time ago.”
“It changes you. You look . . . older.”
“We’ve all changed, Akeela,” said Lukien. “Especially you. You used to be a good man, remember? You used to be loved.”
Akeela gave a bitter grin. “They loved a fool, then. I’m not that stupid any more.”
“But you can still be good. You can still do one good thing,” urged Lukien. “You have me now. You don’t need to ride for Grimhold.”
“If you think that will save you from me, think again,” said Trager.
Lukien turned on Trager. “Torture me, then!” he cried. “Torture me, kill me, do whatever you want! But I won’t tell you where Grimhold is, Trager. And Akeela, I know there’s good left in you. You can kill me, you have that right. But if you kill the Inhumans you’ll just be a murderer.”
Unable to stand it, Akeela looked away. The accusations were stinging. And just seeing Lukien again made him weak. He turned back to his window. “You will die, Lukien,” he said. He didn’t want to make the decree, but he had come too far now. Too much had happened to simply forget. “On the morrow, at dawn. I will kill you myself.”
He saw Lukien’s shocked expression in the glass.
“I must do this, Lukien. You must die for what you’ve done, and I must be your executioner.”
To Akeela’s surprise, Lukien simply nodded. “If that’s your wish, I accept it. But what of Grimhold?”
Akeela turned to regard him. “Aren’t you listening? You’re going to die, Lukien.”
“I heard you. Now please, answer me. Will you seek out Grimhold?”
Akeela was dumbstruck. “Why are you thinking about them? Your life is over! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“They’re worth saving,” argued Lukien. He went to Akeela, almost pleading. “I’ve been with them, and I know they’re good people. They’ve done you no harm. And. . . .” He hesitated a moment. “And Cassandra thought they were worth saving, too.”
“What?” Akeela’s face contorted.
“It’s true,” Lukien went on. “When she learned of your plans to ride for Jador, she sent for me. She wanted to come here with me, to give back the amulets and warn them about you.”
“That’s not true!”
“It is!” insisted Lukien. “She saw the madness in you. She told me it was like a disease, and now that I’m here looking at you I can see it too.”
The revelation staggered Akeela. He fell back against the window. “Cassandra loved me,” he whispered. “I know she did.”
“She did, Akeela,” said Lukien. “But she knew how sick you are. And she would never have wanted you to kill the Inhumans. If her memory means anything to you—”
“Her memory is all I have because you took her from me,” Akeela groaned. “And you killed her.” He looked at his old friend in disbelief. “You killed her, Lukien. How could you have done that? You say you loved her yet you killed her.”
Lukien looked down at the floor, unable to meet Akeela’s accusative gaze. “That’s why I deserve death,” he said softly.
“And die you shall,” said Trager. He took hold of Lukien’s arm again. “Let me take him below, Akeela. Let him sweat out his last hours in a cell.”
Still shaking, Akeela said, “Yes. Yes, take him below.”
Trager spun Lukien toward the door. “Come along, Captain. We’ve got a nice room prepared for you.”
“Akeela, tell me you’ll spare them!” Lukien shouted.
“Move!” ordered Trager, nearly pushing him over.
“Akeela, tell me!”
“Take him to the cellars,” said Akeela. Then, “I will think on what you’ve told me, Lukien.”
“What?” erupted Trager. He stopped shoving Lukien and glowered. “Akeela, don’t listen to his lies! You’ve come all this way. Don’t turn back now.”
“Should we kill good people, Will?” asked Akeela.
“They have your amulets!” said Trager. He pointed at Lukien. “And they’ve harbored this scoundrel! Good people? Freaks, Akeela. Enemies!”
Akeela thought for a moment, his mind shredded by the two arguments. Desperate to be alone, he waved at Trager to go. “Take him,” he ordered. “And leave me alone.”
Trager grunted unhappily, then opened the doors of the throne room. Two soldiers were waiting there. Immediately he barked at them to take hold of Lukien. Akeela watched as they dragged the knight from the chamber. When they had all gone he slumped down into the ornate throne. The meeting had rattled him. He heard Lukien’s voice over and over in his head, speaking of Cassandra. Suddenly he was desperate for a drink.
No,
he corrected himself.
Not just one drink.
he corrected himself.
Not just one drink.
Tonight he wanted to get horribly drunk. Without the help of alcohol, he knew he’d never be able to face the dawn.
55
A
fter a full day’s ride, Gilwyn finally reached Jador at dusk. The city gleamed across the sands, beckoning him forward like a beacon in the ebbing sunlight. He was exhausted, but he still had enough water in his pouches for a celebratory drink. He undid one of the waterskins from Emerald’s harness and took a long, satisfying drink. He was proud of the journey they’d made, and conveyed this pride to the kreel with his mind. The reptilian response was like a silent purring in his brain. They had snuck out of Grimhold without incident, and no one had followed. Gilwyn didn’t know if Minikin had discovered he was gone, though he supposed she had by now. It didn’t matter. He had reached Jador. Simply by pointing the kreel’s nose east and telling her to find “home,” she had sprinted across the desert almost nonstop. And though Gilwyn could feel her exhaustion, he could also tell that she was eager to go on, to finish the journey they had started together.
fter a full day’s ride, Gilwyn finally reached Jador at dusk. The city gleamed across the sands, beckoning him forward like a beacon in the ebbing sunlight. He was exhausted, but he still had enough water in his pouches for a celebratory drink. He undid one of the waterskins from Emerald’s harness and took a long, satisfying drink. He was proud of the journey they’d made, and conveyed this pride to the kreel with his mind. The reptilian response was like a silent purring in his brain. They had snuck out of Grimhold without incident, and no one had followed. Gilwyn didn’t know if Minikin had discovered he was gone, though he supposed she had by now. It didn’t matter. He had reached Jador. Simply by pointing the kreel’s nose east and telling her to find “home,” she had sprinted across the desert almost nonstop. And though Gilwyn could feel her exhaustion, he could also tell that she was eager to go on, to finish the journey they had started together.
But they couldn’t go on. Just in sight of their destination, Gilwyn got down from her back.
“That’s it,” he told the creature, patting her long neck. You can’t go any further with me.”
The reptile’s eyes blinked at him in confusion. He smiled sadly at her.
“You have to wait for me here,” he explained. “I can’t risk losing you, Emerald. The Liirians might kill you on sight. And if I do make it out again, I’ll need you to take me back to Grimhold.”
Emerald replied with a silent, almost human apprehension. Gilwyn knew she objected to the word if.
“All right,
when
I make it out,” he told her. “Either way, I’ll need you here.” He looked back the way they’d come. There were some hills in the distance with dry, scraggly shrubs. “There.” He directed the kreel’s attention toward the hills. “If you wait there for me you won’t be seen. And it’s getting dark. You’ll be safe.”
when
I make it out,” he told her. “Either way, I’ll need you here.” He looked back the way they’d come. There were some hills in the distance with dry, scraggly shrubs. “There.” He directed the kreel’s attention toward the hills. “If you wait there for me you won’t be seen. And it’s getting dark. You’ll be safe.”
If Emerald were human she would have shaken her head. She looked toward the city.
“No,” said Gilwyn, “it’s not that far. I can make it even with my bad foot.” Gently he stroked the creature’s neck. “I’ll take water with me. I’ll be fine.”
His reassurance hardly assuaged the kreel, but Emerald lowered her head submissively.
“Good,” said Gilwyn. “Now go. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He tied the waterskin to his belt, then turned toward Jador. The dark was coming quickly—he would have to hurry. He took a few steps then turn back to see Emerald dutifully watching after him. “Go!” he shouted. “I mean it!”
Emerald turned and walked toward the hills. Gilwyn smiled. She was a fine kreel, and he had begun to understand the often talked about bond between a soldier and his horse. Like Teku, Emerald had already become a friend. He was already missing both of them, but he turned back toward the city and walked slowly toward it, his bad foot sinking awkwardly into the sand with each step. Jador quickly took shape in the darkening sky. Gilwyn immediately noticed the palace near the edge of the city; if that’s where Lukien was, he would find him quickly. But then he noticed other structures as well, things he’d never seen before. He squinted across the last stretch of desert, trying to make out the shapes. They were crosses. Curious, he continued toward them. A minute later came the grisly revelation. There were men on the crosses. Dead men. Gilwyn stopped in his tracks, his feet frozen, his heart pounding in his chest. He stared at the crucified figures, shocked yet unable to look away. They were ghastly, motionless and bloated, their heads lolling forward in death. Buzzards and other birds picked at their faces, feasting on the soft flesh. A wave of nausea overcame Gilwyn. He sunk down to his knees, thinking he might vomit. Quickly he undid the waterskin from his belt and took a drink, trying to steady himself. Suddenly his idea to save Lukien seemed doomed. He stared at the city, wondering if he should go on, or if one of the gruesome figures hanging from the crosses was Lukien himself. But no, he didn’t think so. From the looks of their black garb they were Jadori warriors, probably the last of the city’s defenders.
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