Authors: John Marco
The Eyes of God (38 page)
“You mean Figgis? No, no one talks like Figgis. He’s impossible to shut up.”
“You are quiet, like the other one.” Cahra spied Trager. “That one is sour like a grape.”
Lukien nodded. “That’s our Trager.”
“You do not like each other.” Cahra leaned forward. “Why?”
“It’s a long story, girl, and not very interesting.”
“He calls you captain. He is your servant?”
“Something like that,” said Lukien. “He serves under me, in the Royal Chargers.”
“In Liiria,” said Cahra brightly. “Figgis told me about Liiria. He says that your king is a great man, and that he wants to make peace with the world. That is why you are going to Jador, yes?”
Lukien hated to lie to the girl, but he said, “Yes, that’s right. We’re emissaries from our king.”
Cahra struggled with the word. “Em-a-sair-ee?”
“Emissaries. Like friends. We’re going to make friends with Jador.” He gestured to the packs hanging from his drowa’s haunches. “We’ve brought gifts for the kahan and kahana, to show them we want peace and friendship.”
“Your king is generous,” said Cahra. “Tell us about him. We are all interested.”
Miva and the other girl, Yilena, had gathered closer to listen. “What do you want to know?” asked Lukien.
“A story.”
“What?”
Cahra smiled. “Ganjeese are story people. We tell our history in stories. So now you tell us about your king and his story. If he is a great king, he will have a great story.”
Lukien thought for a moment. Was Akeela a great king? A great humanitarian perhaps, but he had ruled Liiria too short a time to be called a great king.
“There are no stories about Akeela,” said Lukien. “I’ve known him all my life, and can’t think of a single one.”
“But
that
is a story,” argued Cahra. “You and him, together. If you have known him all your life, then that is his story, and yours. Tell us. It will pass the time.”
that
is a story,” argued Cahra. “You and him, together. If you have known him all your life, then that is his story, and yours. Tell us. It will pass the time.”
Knowing that he had nothing but time on his hands, Lukien agreed. He told them of Akeela, and how he was a good man with big visions for Liiria, a man of peace and justice, and he told them how he had met Akeela in the streets of Koth. Cahra and her sisters listened, enthralled, as Lukien told of growing up in Lionkeep as ward to King Balak, like a brother to Akeela, and how they had attended war college together. Lukien bragged about his own exploits as a soldier. He had posted almost identical grades as Trager, he said, but he was the better soldier by far, and that was why he was Captain of the Royal Chargers. Cahra smiled at the boast but let Lukien continue, and for almost an hour he regaled them with tales of wars and soldiering and his comradeship with Akeela, which he explained was stormy at times but was quick to point out how much they truly,
truly
, loved each other.
truly
, loved each other.
“Brothers are like that, you know,” Lukien stressed, knowing it was for his own sake that he took such pains to explain things. Cahra listened and seemed intrigued by this, even suspicious, yet still she said nothing. Finally Lukien came to the part in his story where King Balak died, leaving his throne to Akeela. He told them about Reec, and how Akeela was determined to make peace with them, and how King Karis had greeted Akeela warmly, even after years of war. Finally, he told them about Cassandra.
“Ah, so your king has a woman,” said Cahra. “Tell us about her. Is she very beautiful?”
“Oh yes,” said Lukien softly.
Cahra’s eyes narrowed on him. “The queen is special to you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Your voice. It changes when you speak of her.” Cahra looked at her bare feet dangling off the side of the wagon. “Forgive me. If you do not wish to speak of her . . .”
“No,” said Lukien. “I don’t mind. It’s just that Queen Cassandra is very ill. She may not survive. I’m worried about her, that’s all. And I’m worried about Akeela.”
“Yes, I can tell. You think of them often. They are both special to you.”
Lukien grinned. “You should be a fortune-teller, Cahra.” Then he sighed. “I don’t want to talk about Liiria any more. It’s your turn to talk. Tell me about Jador.”
“You will see Jador soon enough.”
“Prepare me, then. What’s it like?”
The girl thought for a moment. “It is pretty.”
“Like Ganjor?”
“No. Ganjor is dirty. Jador is clean and beautiful. All white.”
“But how do they live in the desert?” asked Lukien. “Ganjor is near the Agora River. What do the Jadori do for water?”
“Jador has a river. It comes from the mountains. And Jador is not in the desert. It is like the start of a new world.”
“New world? You mean there’s more beyond the desert than Jador?”
Cahra looked away as if being caught in a lie. “There is always more,” she said evasively.
“What’s beyond Jador?”
“I told you—the mountains.”
“And after the mountains? What’s beyond them?”
Cahra shrugged. “I do now know. I have never been.”
Lukien could tell the girl was hiding something. “But you must have some idea. Are there other countries past Jador? More people like them, perhaps?”
“There must be people beyond the mountains,” said Cahra simply. “The world is large.”
“Yes,” said Lukien. “I suppose.” He wasn’t satisfied with the answer, but decided not to push. He was about to change the subject when he heard a shout.
“Lukien, Trager, look!” cried Figgis gleefully.
Lukien looked at the librarian. He was pointing to something ahead, something vast and long on the horizon. After days of endless sand, Lukien had to think for a moment before recognizing the things for what they were—mountains.
“I’ll be damned . . .”
Cahra laughed. “You see? The desert is a trickster.”
Lukien shielded his eyes with a hand. “Jador?”
“Almost,” said Cahra. She spied the mountains coming into view. “You will see it soon.”
Kahan Kadar’s city of white and gold sprawled at the base of a brooding mountain range, shining like a beacon across the burning sands. It was tall with towers and domes and lined with limestone streets, and it rivaled Koth in size and beauty. There was no city gate to guard it, only a welcoming avenue down its center. Green trees served as sentries to the city, bursting with fruit and swaying lazily in the desert breeze, while a winding aqueduct roamed above the roads, bringing water down from the distant mountains. The streets of Jador bustled with caravans from around the desert, swarming in and out of the city’s many streets. There were drowa everywhere and dark-skinned people much like Jebel’s clan. And there were kreels. From his place on the outskirts of the city, Lukien could see the fleet-footed lizards scrambling through avenues, some being ridden, others pulling trading carts. After five days in the desert, it was like a dream to Lukien, and he watched it wide-eyed from the confines of his cowl, eager to reach the gleaming city.
“Great Fate, it’s amazing,” said Figgis breathlessly. As he rode at the head of the caravan with Jebel, he kept his gaze fixed on Jador. Lukien and Trager rode beside him. Both were equally struck by the amazing city, but only Figgis seemed unable to look away. “I’ve waited all my life for this,” said the old man. “All my life . . .”
Lukien smiled at him. “I’m glad for you, Figgis. Enjoy this moment.”
Jebel overheard the conversation and looked at Figgis oddly. “All your life? To make this simple trip?”
“Simple for you, maybe,” said Figgis. “But not for me, or anyone else from the north.” He smiled at Jebel. “You have done me a great service, my friend, and I’m grateful. Seeing Jador was always my greatest dream. And now . . .” He sighed, taking in all of the desert city’s glory. “Now I feel like I could cry.”
“Please, don’t,” said Trager. “Spare us that at least, will you? We have a mission, old man. Remember that.”
Lukien shot Trager a warning glance. “Easy.”
“Yes, your mission,” said Jebel, nodding. “You will want to see Kahan Kadar quickly.”
“If possible,” said Lukien. “But will that be difficult? He’s the kahan, after all. Where do we start?”
Jebel pointed toward the city. “The green tower,” he said simply.
Lukien squinted and saw a cylinder of lime-colored stone rising from the city streets. “What is it?”
“Kadar’s palace. You will go there, speak to the kahan.”
“And he will see us?” asked Trager. “Just like that?”
Jebel laughed. “You do not know Kahan Kadar.”
“No, I don’t,” said Trager. “Tell me.”
Jebel looked at Trager. He replied, “Even you will be welcomed by Kadar.”
Lukien didn’t laugh. “I just hope you’re right, Jebel. We’ve come so far; I don’t want to be turned away now.”
“When Kadar learns you are emissaries, he will welcome you,” said Jebel.
“Emissaries,” said Lukien sourly. “Right.”
None of them had told Jebel the truth of their mission, and now that they had reached Jador Lukien felt a familiar pang of guilt. As they rode toward the city’s main avenue, he noticed that none of the men were armed. Just as there were no soldiers or gates barring the way, there were no swords or daggers, and none of the drowa or kreel were armored, the way horses often were in the north. Lukien recalled what Figgis had told him—that the Jadori were peaceful. Now, seeing their serene, unarmed city, he believed it completely. He realized suddenly that his plan to steal Kadar’s amulets would be easier than he’d thought. For some reason, the realization saddened him.
Dressed as they were in the Ganjeese gakas, no one took particular notice of Lukien and his companions as they neared the city, but by the time the caravan entered Jador the people in the streets began to surround the wagons, shouting at Jebel and his family and holding out silver coins.
“Figgis,” whispered Lukien, “can you understand what they’re saying?”
“Only a bit,” the librarian replied. “I think they’re asking what the caravan has to sell.”
“Look at them,” spat Trager. He glanced down at the people milling about his drowa, plainly disgusted. “Like animals.”
But Lukien didn’t think they were animals. He thought they were beautiful. Like their Ganjeese cousins across the desert, the Jadori had dark skin and shiny, dancing eyes. The women wore multicolored robes and silk veils over their faces, and the children laughed as they played. Lukien looked around at the structures of white and gold, awed by their sunlit beauty. Overhead the aqueduct gurgled, bringing its life-giving water. He saw a fountain at the end of the street, marveling at the way the water cascaded over its limestone tiers. Exotic looking trees stood around the fountain, almost completely bare of limbs except for sprouts of fanlike leaves at their tops. A warm breeze tumbled down the avenue, bearing the scent of strange perfumes. For Lukien, the noise of Jebel’s bartering fell away; he felt remarkably happy.
“You’re right, Figgis,” he said. “It’s beautiful.”
Figgis sighed. “It’s paradise. Just like I knew it would be.” He turned to Lukien and Trager. “You see? I was right. It’s just like I told King Akeela.”
“Fine,” said Trager. “Now let’s find those amulets and go home.”
Lukien nodded. “Sorry, Figgis, but Trager’s right. We can’t dally. Let’s get on to the palace and find Kadar.”
Figgis didn’t argue. He went to Jebel, asking him to take them to the kahan’s palace. Jebel agreed, telling Cahra and the others to see to their business. The wagons came to a stop in the street and were soon surrounded by eager Jadori. Jebel said good-bye to his daughters and brother, then rode out ahead of his charges, leading them out of the bustling street and down a quieter corridor shadowed by tall buildings. The Jadori that passed them did not stop to stare this time, and Lukien made sure to keep his face covered. As they rode through the avenues, changing course with the flow of the streets, the palace of Kahan Kadar came into view before them. Sunlight played on its copper dome, aged through countless years to a green patina. The main tower rose high above the city, a twisting spire of emerald and gold. People and drowa and kreels choked the square outside the palace. But once again there were no soldiers baring the way, only men in dark gakas milling around the open archway. Lukien took careful measure of the palace. The main archway led to the huge square, and the square led to the crowded streets. Fleeing the palace would be difficult, even if stealing the amulets wouldn’t be. He realized at once they would have to flee at night, when the streets would be less crowded.
Once Jebel had led them into the square, he dismounted, telling them all to do the same. He pointed at the archway to the palace. “Kadar.”
“Yes,” said Lukien, understanding. “But how will we see him?” He got down from his drowa. “We can’t just walk in and ask for him.”
“Come,” said Jebel. “Let me show you.”
Jebel led his horse through the archway onto a carpet of cool grass just outside the palace. Lukien and the others followed him warily. There were children on the grass, playing with a leather ball, and men and women sitting around in little circles, happily ignorant of the nearby foreigners. The shadow of the green tower fell gently on the field. Jebel cleared his throat to get some attention, then began to speak. All around the yard people turned to look at him, then at the strangers with him.
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