Authors: John Marco
The Eyes of God (86 page)
Kadar turned away to stare out the window. He was quiet for a long moment. The amulet hung loosely from the chain in his fist. At last he asked, “Did you not wonder why I never hunted you?”
“I did,” said Lukien. “We escaped you easily, and I always wondered why. At first I thought you would come after us, but you never did.”
“I never had to,” said Kadar. He lifted the amulet. “This did it for me. It destroyed you.”
Lukien understood. “It’s cursed,” he sighed. “Truly.”
“It is protected,” Kadar corrected. “I am the Eye’s rightful owner, and you took it from me. The spirit of the Eye did what it had to.”
“Spirit?” asked Lukien. “What do you mean?”
Kadar ignored the question. To Lukien’s surprise, he did not put the amulet back around his neck, but rather let it dangle uselessly in his hand. “My wife died the night you left,” he said. “Have you always known this?”
“No, not really,” said Lukien. “But I always suspected it. Kadar, I’m sorry. I never meant for her to die, nor the child she was carrying. I’m not asking you to forgive me, but I want you to know it was an accident.”
Kadar was unmoved. “Accident or no, she is dead.”
“And I regret that more than I can say. That’s the reason I’ve come back, partially. To give you back what is rightfully yours.”
“And to warn you, Kadar,” added Thorin. He rose from his chair and stood face to face with the kahan. “You can silence me after I’ve said my peace, but you need to know that you’re in danger. We haven’t come all this way just to give you back your bauble, but to tell you of an invasion.”
“Indeed?” Kadar smiled thinly. “I am listening.”
Thorin looked at Lukien, plainly surprised by the kahan’s lack of interest. Lukien got to his feet and said, “My lord Kadar, you should listen to us. We speak the truth. You and your people are in great danger. My king—”
“Former king,” corrected Thorin.
“Yes, our former king, Akeela, has formed an army to take back the Eye. He knows we’ve come here, and he wants it. He’s marching for Jador even as we speak.”
“For the Eye?” asked Kadar suspiciously. “Or for you, Bronze Knight?”
“Kadar, it doesn’t matter what you think of me. You’re right—Akeela is coming to kill me. But his army will slaughter you just the same. He wants that amulet just as much as he wants me.”
“And something else,” added Gilwyn. He got unsteadily to his feet. “My lord, King Akeela is looking for Grimhold.”
Finally they’d said something to get Kadar’s attention. “What does he know of Grimhold?”
“He knows that’s where the Eyes of God come from,” Gilwyn replied. “And he knows that it’s somewhere in the mountains beyond here.” Gilwyn studied Kadar. “Is that true, my lord? Is there really a Grimhold?”
Once again, Kadar gave the boy an enigmatic smile. “A great story, perhaps.”
“My lord, we know about the amulets,” insisted Gilwyn. “And we’ve seen the Witch of Grimhold. We know she exists.”
Kadar’s eyebrows shot up. “You continue to surprise me, boy. You say you’ve seen the Witch?”
“I have, my lord,” said Gilwyn. “She entranced me so that I’d forget, but I remember her. I know she wears the other amulet, just like that one.”
“Where did you see her?” asked Kadar. “In Jador?”
“No, in Liiria,” said Gilwyn. “But I know it was her.”
Kadar stepped lightly toward the window and stared out into the bright day. “If this witch is in Liiria, then why would your King Akeela come here for her?”
“He’s not looking for the witch, my lord,” said Lukien. He was growing frustrated now and went over to stand behind Kadar, trying to make him listen. “Akeela doesn’t even know the witch exists. We told you, he’s after your amulet. And there’s someone else with him; a general named Trager. He’ll be after Grimhold and whatever else he can get.”
The desert leader did not turn from the window. He said simply, “No doubt you have seen how we’ve changed. We can protect ourselves.”
“With respect, Kahan Kadar, I disagree,” said Thorin. The baron went to Kadar’s side, pressing him between himself and Lukien. “You don’t know Akeela or what he’s capable of. We’ve seen your men and their lizards. They’re impressive. But they’re no match for Liiria’s army. You’re in great danger.”
“Do not be concerned,” said Kadar. “We Jadori can look after ourselves.”
Frustrated, Lukien glanced at Thorin, who seemed equally confused by Kadar’s attitude. He didn’t mind the kahan being evasive about Grimhold; he had expected that. But to turn a blind eye to the coming invasion seemed ridiculous.
“Kahan Kadar, we’ve come in good faith,” he said. “I know you think I’m not to be trusted, and I don’t blame you for that. I came here expecting to be punished however you decide. But—”
“There will be no punishment for you,” said Kadar.
The reply made Lukien pause. “No punishment?”
“Have you not already been destroyed?” asked Kadar. “Have you not said so yourself? What more could I possibly do to you? You came here prepared to die. I know what that is like. That is enough.”
Enough. The word surprised Lukien. Despite the suffering of his last sixteen years, he still expected cruelty from Kadar. Instead he was getting mercy.
“Then let me help you,” he said suddenly. “You’re going to need my help against Akeela.”
“Lukien, easy,” said Thorin.
Lukien ignored him. “Kadar, listen to me. Akeela
is
coming. You have to believe that. And if you’re not going to kill me, than at least let me try to repay you for my wrongs. Let me help defend Jador.”
is
coming. You have to believe that. And if you’re not going to kill me, than at least let me try to repay you for my wrongs. Let me help defend Jador.”
For the first time, Kadar smiled at him. “You can never repay me for taking my Jitendra. But now you know what that hole in my heart is like. It is impossible to fill.” He moved to the door. “I will think on what you’ve said. You will wait here in the palace. Rooms will be prepared for you.”
“My lord, wait,” pleaded Lukien. “There’s no time for you to consider things. You have to act at once. You have to start preparing yourself for Akeela’s invasion.”
Kadar put up his hand as if uninterested. “No more talk. Rest. Food and drink will be brought to you. We will speak again.”
Before he could leave the room Lukien was once again on his heels. “Wait, one more thing,” he said. “How did you learn to speak our tongue? You didn’t speak it sixteen years ago, I’m sure.”
“I had a good teacher, Bronze Knight,” replied Kadar. “And I had your people to worry about. It was time for me to learn.”
With his strange reply hanging in the air, Kahan Kadar left the room, leaving the door open and his visitors blinking in confusion.
44
A
keela leaned back in his chair beneath the shade of a tree, studying the game board and his opponent’s passive face. He had already lost his best pieces to the man, but was determined this time to best him. Around him, the noise of his army continued, a constant distraction. He reached over the table for his wine, drinking it down as he considered his predicament, then pouring himself another big goblet. Lieutenant Leal looked relaxed and confident. Akeela felt anxious and cross. It had been a very hard road south and it had taken them far longer to reach Farduke then he’d hoped or expected. He was tired and irritable, and playing crusade was his only comfort, beside the drink. As soon as they had reached the border of Nith, Akeela had called Leal to play with him. Their relationship had been awkward at first, because he was not used to being around his king and hardly knew how to react. But an odd friendship had quickly grown up between the two, at Akeela’s insistence. Today they had been playing crusade for three hours straight, wasting the bulk of the afternoon while Trager and the other officers made camp. The day was warm and pleasant beneath the tree; the army had chosen a good spot to rest, just over the valley of Nith in a wide plain dotted with elm trees. The plain was more than large enough to accommodate Akeela’s two thousand men, plus all their horses, wagons, weapons, and supplies. And because the men were used to traveling now, the tents had gone up quickly. Cooking fires had been started for the evening meals and now lit the land for acres, like stars in the sky. General Trager’s voice came to Akeela over the breeze. The general was shouting orders in the distance, organizing his troops and making sure their horses were tended. It should have been mayhem with so many men, but Trager had a real gift for organization and things were going remarkably smoothly. According to their maps, there was a stream about half a mile east of their position, a tributary of the Agora River. Trager was having the various companies take turns watering their horses, making sure they all returned by sundown.
keela leaned back in his chair beneath the shade of a tree, studying the game board and his opponent’s passive face. He had already lost his best pieces to the man, but was determined this time to best him. Around him, the noise of his army continued, a constant distraction. He reached over the table for his wine, drinking it down as he considered his predicament, then pouring himself another big goblet. Lieutenant Leal looked relaxed and confident. Akeela felt anxious and cross. It had been a very hard road south and it had taken them far longer to reach Farduke then he’d hoped or expected. He was tired and irritable, and playing crusade was his only comfort, beside the drink. As soon as they had reached the border of Nith, Akeela had called Leal to play with him. Their relationship had been awkward at first, because he was not used to being around his king and hardly knew how to react. But an odd friendship had quickly grown up between the two, at Akeela’s insistence. Today they had been playing crusade for three hours straight, wasting the bulk of the afternoon while Trager and the other officers made camp. The day was warm and pleasant beneath the tree; the army had chosen a good spot to rest, just over the valley of Nith in a wide plain dotted with elm trees. The plain was more than large enough to accommodate Akeela’s two thousand men, plus all their horses, wagons, weapons, and supplies. And because the men were used to traveling now, the tents had gone up quickly. Cooking fires had been started for the evening meals and now lit the land for acres, like stars in the sky. General Trager’s voice came to Akeela over the breeze. The general was shouting orders in the distance, organizing his troops and making sure their horses were tended. It should have been mayhem with so many men, but Trager had a real gift for organization and things were going remarkably smoothly. According to their maps, there was a stream about half a mile east of their position, a tributary of the Agora River. Trager was having the various companies take turns watering their horses, making sure they all returned by sundown.
“My lord, it’s your move,” said Leal.
Akeela’s eyes tilted up from the board. “I know,” he said. “I’m thinking.”
“Sorry, my lord.”
“You’re trying to distract me, Leal. It won’t work.”
He was a good man, the lieutenant, and according to Trager an excellent soldier. But when it came to playing crusade, he was a giant and had beaten Akeela in almost every game. And of the few games he had won, Akeela suspected Leal had deliberately not played his best. At last he reached for a game piece, moving his general across the board. Leal considered the move for only a moment, then brought out a catapult. The speed of the lieutenant’s decision irritated Akeela.
“Are you sure that’s the move you want to make?” he asked. “You didn’t even think about it!”
“I did think about it, my lord,” replied the soldier. “I knew if you moved your general, I’d move my catapult.”
“Fine.”
Akeela sank back into his own dark thoughts. Though he was losing badly, he was grateful for the distraction of the game. Since losing Cassandra, his mind had been a wasteland of misery and drink. He missed Koth and the comforts of Lionkeep, and he missed knowing his beloved wife was only a few steps away, safely locked in her private wing. Now all those things were gone, and all that remained were bad memories. And though it had been many years since he had left Koth, he derived no pleasure from their current travels or the beautiful countryside. He wanted only to reach Ganjor, and then Jador. And then, to find and kill Lukien.
“My lord?” asked Leal suddenly.
“Yes?”
“Do you think Prince Daralor will let us cross?”
“I’m sure he will,” replied Akeela, surprised by the forwardness of the question. “One way or another.”
Leal glanced away from the board, looking southward toward Nith. So far, their heralds had not returned. But Akeela wasn’t worried. He expected an answer from Daralor soon, quite probably by nightfall.
“The people of Nith are proud, my lord,” Leal reminded him.
“Now you sound like Trager,” said Akeela. “Don’t let his pessimism rub off on you, Leal. Once Daralor sees the size of our army, he’ll let us pass, just as all the others have.”
The words seemed to comfort Leal. Since leaving Koth, their army had met no resistance. Instead, the kings and princes of the lands they traveled had welcomed them, no doubt frightened by their size and reputation. Akeela supposed Trager was to thank for that, for the general had built the Liirian military into the terror of the world. In Marn and Farduke, they had even been greeted as heroes. They had been showered with gifts and good food and their supplies had been replenished, all thanks to the hard work of Will Trager. Akeela was grateful to his surly general. Now that Graig was gone, Trager was his only friend in the world.
“The general thinks we should go around,” said Leal. “He says it would only cost us a day or so.”
“We will not go around,” said Akeela. His eyes narrowed on the game pieces, wondering if he should take Leal’s catapult. “We don’t have the time to spare.”
“The general thinks we do, my lord. He’s worried about crossing Nith.”
“The general doesn’t make those decisions,” said Akeela. “Now be quiet and let me think.”
In his annoyance he quickly moved his cavalryman, taking Leal’s catapult. Leal smiled, then moved his war tower to take the cavalryman. Akeela’s head began to pound. With an angry grunt he picked up his goblet and took a long drink, the only thing that ever deadened his pain. When the goblet was drained he slammed it down on the little table, sending the game pieces jumping.
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