The Eyes of God (4 page)
Authors: John Marco
“Breck, Trager,” he ordered, “bring it along. The rest of you, stay behind.”
Quickly he caught up with Akeela, falling in step behind him. The earl’s men surrounded them, talking idly about how pleased they were to have Akeela in Reec. The young king nodded and smiled, well suited to his first diplomatic mission. Lukien was proud of him, the way an older brother would be proud of a younger sibling. They had talked about this moment for months, and all the while Akeela had fretted about the task. Yet the new king seemed every bit as polished as his late father.
The halls of Castle Hes were marvelous. High ceilings swallowed them, decorated with mosaics of colored marble and gilded glass. Huge windows revealed the night outside as it came alive with stars, and glowing torches stood like sentries along the walls. The stableboys and milkmaids had gone, and now only well-dressed nobles greeted them, bowing to Akeela as he passed. Lukien caught the eye of a comely noblewoman just in time to see her snicker. He sighed and looked away. Just ahead a pair of carved oak doors hung open on iron hinges.
“The throne room,” said Linuk. He paused outside the chamber, stepping aside and gesturing for Akeela to enter. Akeela took a breath, then turned toward Lukien, giving his champion a nervous smile. Lukien encouraged him with a wink. Then, with Akeela leading the way, the two Liirians stepped inside.
The throne room spread out before them, high and barrel-vaulted, with stout iron chandeliers and grand tapestries and a formidable dais at its far end. On the dais was a throne of ebony, with carved runes through its form and feet like the paws of a lion. Perched on the throne, his eyes as hard as diamonds, was King Karis of Reec. Akeela and Lukien took careful steps toward him, not averting their gaze. Karis’ face was emotionless. He studied the pair dispassionately, barely twitching his ringed fingers. Two more Reecians, dressed similarly to Linuk, stood on the dais beside him. Lukien guessed they were Raxor, the king’s war minister, and Arnod, the Reecian treasurer. Raxor was the king’s brother, and the family resemblance was striking. To Lukien’s eye, they could have been twins. Not so with Arnod, who was much shorter than Raxor and fair-haired. Both advisors were quiet as Akeela approached, waiting for their king to speak first. An anxious silence filled the chamber.
Then, unexpectedly, Akeela dropped to one knee before the Reecian king. He bowed his head, put an arm across his knee as if being knighted, and said, “Great King of Reec, I am Akeela of Liiria. By accepting me into your home, you honor me.”
Lukien couldn’t believe the sight, nor could Karis. From the way the Reecian’s eyebrows lifted, he seemed stunned by the greeting. Noticing that Lukien was still standing, Akeela casually reached out for his hand and gently dragged him downward. Reluctantly, Lukien joined in the bow, keeping his eyes on Karis. The King of Reec looked first at his advisors, then back at Akeela.
“King Akeela,” he said finally, “Thank you.”
Akeela and Lukien rose. The young king offered his host one of his warm smiles, which the Reecian did not return. Karis merely studied them. Thinking the stillness of the chamber would suffocate him, Lukien nudged Akeela to say something. But the king remained silent.
“You’re very young,” said Karis. “My advisors tell me you are twenty-four years old. Is that so?”
“Your advisors are accurate, King Karis,” said Akeela. “I am twenty-four.”
“How many years have Reec and Liiria been at war?” pressed Karis. His tone was featureless, neither threatening nor mild. “Do you know?”
“Since before I was born, my lord,” replied Akeela. “For twenty-eight years, since the battle of Awalak.”
“That’s right,” sighed Karis. “A very long time, your whole lifetime and more. So tell me then why a scholar like yourself is so anxious to end a war his father loved, so soon after taking his place.”
Insulted, Lukien stepped forward. “You presume a great deal, King Karis,” he said. “King Balak never loved war. To say so is to slander him.”
“Lukien,” said Akeela, taking his shoulder. “Be easy.”
King Karis rose from his throne. For the first time, anger flashed in his eyes. “You are the Bronze Knight,” he declared. “
Butcher.
I should warn you to be silent, Lukien of Liiria. You are not so welcome here as your king.”
Butcher.
I should warn you to be silent, Lukien of Liiria. You are not so welcome here as your king.”
Lukien wanted to speak but Akeela’s insistent grip on his shoulder stopped him. Akeela stepped forward, saying, “Lukien is my champion, my lord. I go nowhere without him, and you’ve already agreed to let him accompany me.”
“Yes,” said Karis. “I did agree, because I wanted to speak with you, King Akeela, and to hear your offer.” His eyes went to Lukien. “But I warn you, Bronze Knight—I tolerate you only for the comfort of your king.”
Akeela said calmly, “And I should warn you, King Karis, that Lukien was as close to King Balak as a son. Speaking against my father will invite his ire. And mine.”
Karis grunted suspiciously. “You are brothers, then?”
“Of a kind,” replied Akeela.
“All right, then,” agreed Karis. “We are here to talk peace, after all.”
Before Akeela could respond, a clamor sounded in the doorway. Lukien turned to see Trager, Breck, and four others of their brigade toting the iron box. Earl Linuk was before them, smiling at his king.
“My lord, forgive me, but King Akeela has brought this for you.”
Karis looked perplexed, and also strangely pleased. He stepped down from his dais just as the sweating men dropped the chest to the floor with a thud.
“What is it?” Karis asked.
“Gifts,” said Akeela brightly. “From Liiria to you, King Karis. I think you’ll like what we’ve brought you. In fact, I have something very special to give you.”
Lukien bristled, realizing what Akeela meant. But Karis seemed intrigued. Instantly he had lost his dispassion toward Akeela, and now seemed to share the young man’s exuberance. Raxor and Arnod gathered near him as he peered at the box. To Lukien, they looked like a bunch of children waiting for Akeela to open a toy chest. Then, as if he’d suddenly come to his senses, Raxor put out a hand.
“Wait, my lord,” he told Karis. His eyelids narrowed on Akeela. “Tell us first what is in there.”
“Raxor . . .”
“Brother, it could be dangerous,” advised the war minister. “I’m sorry to say this in front of our guests, but they are Liirians, after all.”
The king flushed. “Forgive my brother, King Akeela. He means no offense, I assure you.”
Akeela produced a shiny silver key from beneath his cape. “I promise you, my lord, there is no danger in the box. Only good things. May I proceed?”
“Of course,” said Karis, ignoring his brother’s concern. He stepped closer to the box in a show of goodwill. Raxor stood beside him, but Arnod kept back a pace. Curiosity got the better of Earl Linuk, who came to stand next to his king, and as Akeela clicked open the padlock and tilted open the iron lid, the faces of the Reecians took on an amber glow, bathed in the reflected glow of the contents. Nearly everything in the box was gold; coins and candelabras and carving knives, rings and plates and picture frames, all shimmering in the chest. It was more than a fortune, more than a king’s ransom, and it made Karis’ jaw drop. The Reecian king hovered over the box, dumbfounded. Akeela swelled proudly.
“For the people of Reec,” he said. “From the people of Liiria. There’s something in here from nearly every citizen of Koth, my lord. These are not only valuables from my own coffers, but from farmers and blacksmiths, even from my own soldiers, here.” He gestured to Lukien, who himself had tossed a gold-hilted dagger into the chest.
Karis could barely speak. “They did this for you?” he asked.
“They did this for peace,” said Akeela. “Not for me.”
“My king is modest,” said Lukien. “They would not have done this for any other ruler, not even his father.”
King Karis shook his head in disbelief. “In Liiria they call you Akeela the Good,” he said. “I know this. And now I know why.”
“It is the people of Liiria that are good, my lord. I asked them to contribute and they did so willingly.” Akeela brightened. “But that’s not all. Look closer at the chest, my lord.”
Puzzled, Karis did as asked, staring into the box and its lustrous contents. “Yes?”
“That bunch of cloth. Pick it up.”
Laying atop the golden heap was a piece of blue linen, wrapped securely around a hidden item. Karis reached out and plucked it from the pile, holding it carefully.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Go ahead, unwrap it,” urged Akeela. Lukien cringed. Like Trager, he had dreaded this moment. It was the one thing he and his lieutenant agreed upon. He watched Karis peel the blue linen back until its contents was revealed—a little crystal bottle filled with clear liquid. Karis held it up to the light. His advisors gathered around to see it.
“Forgive me, King Akeela,” said Karis, “but your gift is . . . baffling.”
“That’s water from the river Kryss,” said Akeela. His voice quavered, and Lukien knew he was nervous. After this, there could be no going back. “It’s yours, my lord.”
Karis looked at him, not quite understanding, or not daring to believe.
“My lord, you said it yourself,” said Akeela. “Since before I was born, Reec and Liiria have battled, and all because of a river. We’ve always thought the Kryss was ours, and you’ve always thought it belonged to you. I don’t know how many people have died for that bloody stream; I don’t think anyone could count. But I’m king now, and I won’t let it go on.” He shrugged, and for a moment he looked more like a boy than a monarch. “The river Kryss is yours. If you’ll allow Liiria free trade on the western side, we will quarrel with you over it no more.”
King Karis of Reec blinked, mute with surprise. He didn’t move, but merely stared at Akeela with his mouth open.
“Fate above,” said Linuk. “Do you mean this?”
“Everything my king says is the truth,” said Lukien. “Akeela the Good does not lie.”
“You would give us the Kryss?” asked Raxor. The war minister seemed dazed. “Just like that?”
“No,” said Akeela sharply. “Not just like that. For peace, and peace only. That’s the price for these gifts. You may keep all this gold, but if you break this pact there will be bloodshed again. And I’m gambling that none of us wants that. Do you want war, King Karis?”
Still Karis didn’t reply. Clutching the bottle of river water, he climbed back to his throne, seating himself. Lukien knew Akeela’s gift had astonished him. After nearly thirty years of war, the Kryss was suddenly his, and now he didn’t know what to do with it.
“Do you know the cards of Noor, King Akeela?” he asked.
Akeela nodded. In Liiria, fortune cards were common, just like all other arcane trappings. “I know of them, but that is all,” he replied.
“When your father died, I read the cards,” said Karis. “I wanted to know what kind of man was succeeding him. The cards told me that you were a man of peace. It was the first time I thought they were lying to me. Now it seems the cards have shamed me. I should have listened.”
Akeela stepped toward the throne. “We have an agreement, then?”
Karis gave a huge grin. “Oh, young king, we have so much more than that. We have peace, for the first time in my memory. You have made an old man very happy.”
The Reecians in the room cheered, and Akeela and Breck joined them. Even Lukien grinned. Akeela clapped the shoulder of Earl Linuk, then embraced Raxor and Arnod in turn. Finally, he climbed onto the dais to take Karis’ hand, but Karis rose instead, took Akeela’s hand in his own, and placed a gentle kiss on it.
“Tonight we will celebrate,” he declared. “There will be music and we will feast. All your men must attend, and we will show you how Reecians celebrate!”
“Thank you, my lord,” said Akeela. To Lukien, he looked gigantically relieved. “Then we will see you tonight. And if you have rooms for us, we would be grateful. ’Twas a long road from Liiria.”
“Rooms are already prepared for you,” said Karis. “Earl Linuk will escort you, and my servants will see to your needs. Rest well for tonight, King Akeela. You are not the only one with gifts.”
Akeela squinted at him. “My lord?”
Karis laughed and released his hand. “You’ll see what I mean. For now, just rest and enjoy my home.”
2
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