Authors: John Marco
The Eyes of God (39 page)
“Figgis?” Lukien asked. “What’s he saying?”
The old man shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Jebel turned to them. “Uncover your faces,” he said.
“What?”
“Your face wraps,” said Jebel. “Take them off.”
Lukien hesitated. The people in the yard were staring at him. Some began to inch closer. Very slowly he reached up to his face cloth and pulled it down.
One by one the Jadori stood and gaped. Figgis and Trager both uncovered their faces, and soon the children in the yard began to point in astonishment. But they weren’t horrified the way Lukien had feared. Instead, their smiles lit the yard.
“I told them you are visitors from far away north,” said Jebel.
“By the Fate,” hissed Trager. “Why’d you do that?”
Jebel laughed. “To show you how stupid you are to be afraid. Look! I told you they would welcome you.”
Ignoring Lukien’s orders to keep back, Figgis raised his hands in friendship to the crowd, then began to speak in his broken version of Jadori. The men and women listened carefully, trying to understand. But enough of the meaning was clear to them. They returned Figgis’ greeting, putting their hands together and bowing to him. Figgis laughed in delight.
“You see, Lukien?” he cried. “I told you they were peaceful. Jebel was right—they’re welcoming us!”
His suspicions ebbing, Lukien followed Figgis forward. A crowd of children gathered at his legs, looking up into his striking, pale face. They pulled at his garments, urging him down. Lukien knelt and let them touch his face. A little boy stared into his blue eyes and gasped.
“Liiria,” said Lukien to the children. “That’s where I’m from. Liiria.”
The boy frowned. He tried to say the word, but could not. Lukien laughed.
“It’s all right, I’ll teach you later,” he said. He rose and looked back at Jebel. “So?” he asked. “What now?”
“Now we wait for Kadar,” replied Jebel. He didn’t move from his spot on the grass, but nodded toward the palace. Lukien listen carefully and heard people shouting Kadar’s name. Excitement rippled through the yard and into the open halls of the tower.
“Shouldn’t we at least go in?” Lukien asked. “Surely the kahan won’t come to us.”
Jebel simply shook his head. Lukien watched the opening in the tower, swelling now with curious people. A few moments later, a man came skidding into the yard, stopping short when he saw the visitors. Instantly his face went from astonishment to glee. The people in the yard parted to let him pass, but he merely stood there, staring, his youthful face fixed with a joyous smile. He wore regal robes of gold and crimson, the sleeves hanging in loose loops from his arms. His hair was jet black without the slightest hint of gray and slicked back against his head. He was neither tall nor short, but he was striking nonetheless. And most striking of all was the item hanging from a chain around his neck. Lukien’s jaw fell open when he saw it—a beautiful, jewel-encrusted amulet.
“Figgis . . .”
“I see it,” whispered Figgis.
Lukien could only stare back at Kahan Kadar. He was just as Figgis had expected—amazingly youthful, as if disease had never touched him. Merely yards away, he regarded the strangers with silent awe. His dark eyes darted toward Jebel, who bowed and spoke to the kahan.
“Bow, bow,” urged Figgis, who followed Jebel’s lead. Lukien and Trager did the same. To their astonishment, Kahan Kadar put his hands together and returned the gesture. Then he clapped like a school boy, laughing in delight.
“Tell him who we are, Jebel,” said Figgis. “Tell him we mean no harm, and that we’re on a peace mission.”
As Jebel explained, Kadar nodded. The kahan had an almost comic exuberance about him, like a younger version of Figgis. Not surprisingly, Figgis was the first of the group to step forward. With all of Kadar’s people watching him, he again tried out his poor Jadori. Kadar listened, sometimes nodding, sometimes frowning. Jebel hurried to his aid, explaining that Figgis was from Liiria, and that he and the others had come bearing peace offerings from their own king, Akeela. Kadar beamed at the news. He began speaking quickly to each of them, his voice as melodious as it was confusing.
“I’m sorry,” Lukien offered, “but I don’t understand you. I—” He snapped his fingers. “Wait,” he said, then went to his drowa. The children surged around him as he unpacked the gifts they had brought, gold coins and flasks of perfume and ruby rings, all donated by Akeela to appease Kadar. Eager little hands reached for the items, but Lukien held them out of reach as he gave them to Kadar, who nodded before handing them out to his people. Surprised, Lukien looked at Jebel.
“Kadar thanks you for the gifts,” said Jebel, “but he does not need them. Do not be offended. The kahan is very generous.”
“Apparently,” said Lukien. The children squealed happily as Kadar doled out the gifts. The Jadori men and women smiled. Kadar continued talking, letting Jebel translate for him.
“The kahan says he is honored that you would come so far to see him, and that you would cross the Desert of Tears for peace.”
“Tell him it’s our pleasure,” said Figgis. He was plainly enchanted with Kadar.
“Yes,” added Lukien. “Tell him the honor is ours, and that we’re pleased that he and his people have welcomed us.”
Jebel told Kadar what Figgis and Lukien had said. He did not bother looking at Trager, who was customarily quiet as the children milled around him. Kadar replied by saying they were all welcome in his palace, and that he was eager to hear about Liiria and its great, generous king. But before Jebel could finish translating another figure emerged from the palace, a striking young woman with straight black hair down to her backside and her stomach swollen with pregnancy. She had Kadar’s warm smile and a dark, regal look, and when the people saw her they greeted her with bows.
“Jitendra,” whispered Jebel. “The kahana.”
Kahan Kadar stretched out a hand for his wife, gesturing to the strangers. Jitendra looked at them each in turn, smiling graciously but obviously uncomfortable. She looked tired, and very far along in her pregnancy. Lukien studied her belly, then realized something was horribly amiss. Unlike her husband, she wore no amulet.
“Figgis, is that really his wife?” he whispered.
Figgis grimaced. “It can’t be. She’s supposed to have the other—”
“Shhh, not now.” Lukien stepped forward and bowed to Jitendra, then asked Jebel to tell the lady how honored he was to meet her. Jitendra smiled lightly at the compliment, keeping her hands on her belly. Kadar leaned over and gave her an affectionate kiss. Then he turned to his guests and spoke.
“Kahan Kadar asks you to come inside,” said Jebel. “He wants you to rest and to take food.”
“Gladly,” said Figgis. He tried to thank Kadar in Jadori. Kadar merely smiled, then led the way back into his palace, still holding his wife’s hand. As Figgis and Trager followed him, Lukien grabbed hold of Figgis’ sleeve, leaning close to him.
“Where’s the other bloody amulet?”
Figgis shrugged. “I’m sorry, Lukien, I don’t know.”
Lukien looked over his shoulder, making sure Jebel was out of ear shot. “We don’t have time to waste. If we can’t locate it in a day or so, we’ll just have to take the one Kadar’s wearing.”
Figgis nodded somberly. “All right. But we’ll need a plan. It won’t be easy.”
“Are you kidding?” Lukien chuckled. “Look at these people. No guards, no weapons. We’re like wolves in the fold here, Figgis.”
20
W
hen the first tower of Koth appeared on the horizon, Akeela knew he was finally home. The long trek back from Norvor had wearied his body and spirit, and he yearned for home and the clean sheets of his bed. For too long he had endured the wind and hot sun. His skin cracked with blisters; his backside ached with saddle sores. Beside him, Chancellor Hogon rode at the head of their army. The chancellor looked fit despite the long ride, and when he saw Koth his old face split with a smile. Breck, who always rode alongside Akeela, let out a joyous whoop that was picked up by the rest of the company. But Akeela himself said nothing. He was simply glad to be home.
hen the first tower of Koth appeared on the horizon, Akeela knew he was finally home. The long trek back from Norvor had wearied his body and spirit, and he yearned for home and the clean sheets of his bed. For too long he had endured the wind and hot sun. His skin cracked with blisters; his backside ached with saddle sores. Beside him, Chancellor Hogon rode at the head of their army. The chancellor looked fit despite the long ride, and when he saw Koth his old face split with a smile. Breck, who always rode alongside Akeela, let out a joyous whoop that was picked up by the rest of the company. But Akeela himself said nothing. He was simply glad to be home.
Since leaving Hanging Man, he had been haunted by the ghost of King Mor. He saw Mor when it was dark, peeking out from behind trees or waiting for him at the side of the road, staring. No one else ever saw the murdered king, but Akeela knew he was there, taunting him. Worse, Mor’s blood would not leave Akeela’s hands. He had spent an hour at the banks of the Kryss rubbing his hands raw, but all he had gotten for his troubles was Mor’s reflection gazing back at him from the water. As he looked toward Koth, he hoped it would be a haven from the dead king. Cassandra would be there, sick in bed, but she would be a friendly face. He had not forgotten nor forgiven her adultery, but he longed for her comfort. He was tired of Hogon and the others, tired of the way Breck had been watching him.
“We’re home, my lord,” said Breck. “You can rest now.”
“Rest.” Akeela sighed. “Yes.”
“Don’t worry—you’ll be all right. You can take it easy now, get your mind off things.”
Akeela shifted. Breck was always saying things like that now, and Akeela wasn’t sure why. He glanced down at his hands. He couldn’t see the blood stains anymore, but he could feel them.
“I’m not a child, Breck,” he said. “I don’t need to nap like a baby.”
“Yes, well . . .” Breck shrugged. “We all need rest after what we’ve been through, my lord.”
Akeela continued toward Koth. Admittedly, rest sounded wonderful, but there was business to attend to first. Overlooking the city was the hill where his library was being built. Akeela could see it in the distance. The clear afternoon sky displayed the outlines of the library’s foundation.
“You go on,” Akeela told Breck. “All of you. I’ll meet you back at Lionkeep soon.”
Hogon started. “My lord?”
“Take the men into the city, Chancellor,” said Akeela. “Give them my thanks again and let them rest and eat good food. I want to go and check on my library.”
Breck and Hogon exchanged troubled glances. Breck said, “My lord, think for a moment, please. You need to get home. Cassandra, remember?”
“I’m not addlebrained, Breck. Of course I remember her. That’s why I want to check on the library now, while I have the chance. Once I get back to Lionkeep I’ll be attending her. I won’t have time to ride out to the site.”
“Do it later, then,” said Hogon. “Really, my lord, you need to get back to Lionkeep.”
“I’ve been gone for weeks, Chancellor. Why the hurry?”
“Because you’re not . . .” Hogon stopped himself. He tried to smile. “You need rest, my lord, that’s all.”
“I’ll rest when I’m done,” said Akeela. “Now, do as I say and return to Lionkeep. Tell Warden Graig that I’ve returned and that I’ll be home presently.” He started to turn his mount toward the library hill, but Breck hurried alongside him, blocking his way. Akeela glared at him. “What are you doing?”
“My lord, listen to me. The queen needs you. Let’s go back to Lionkeep. We can check on the library later.”
“I’m the king, damn it!” Akeela yanked his horse away from Breck. “Stop treating me like an infant. I gave you an order, Breck. Follow it!”
“All right,” said Breck easily. “I’ll go with you, then. We’ll check on the library together.” He turned to Hogon. “The rest of you go on. We won’t be long.” He looked back at Akeela, smiling. “All right?”
Akeela studied Breck, not quite trusting him. He was a good man, but lately he’d been too close.
“If you must,” said Akeela, then rode off toward the hill. Behind him, Breck and Hogon exchanged some words that he couldn’t make out, and soon Breck was galloping up behind him. They rode in silence, avoiding the main road into the city and keeping instead to a less traveled path that led into the heart of the hillside. Akeela avoided looking at Breck, sure that he would see the familiar, concerned expression.
Before long they reached the library’s hill, riding up a sloping road. Akeela listened but could hear nothing, not even the voice of a single workman. As the trees thinned and the site came into view, he saw that it was empty. His eyes narrowed, sure that he was missing something. But there was nothing to see. He had a picture perfect memory of the place, and he knew that nothing had changed from the last time he’d seen it. His jaw began to tighten and his head throbbed. Not a single additional tree had been cleared; not one brick had been laid. Beyond the hill, Koth still loomed in the distance, its skyline unobstructed. Akeela gripped the reins of his horse with shaking fists.
Other books
Cowboy Truth: Cowboy Justice Association #3 by Olivia Jaymes
Not My 1st Rodeo by Donna Alward
Bones of Faerie by Janni Lee Simner
Deep Dark Secret by Sierra Dean
Return of the Highlander by Julianne MacLean
Falling for the Genie (Genie's Love, Book 1) by Stone, Dee J.
Finding Mercy by Karen Harper
Breaker's Passion by Julie Cannon
Wings of Fire Book Four: The Dark Secret by Sutherland, Tui T.
Dead Poets Society by N.H. Kleinbaum
