The Eyes of God (90 page)

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Authors: John Marco

BOOK: The Eyes of God
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“I did,” said Kadar.
“And the boy, too?” asked Thorin.
Kadar motioned to some pillows next to Gilwyn. “Sit. It is time to talk.”
Lukien sat down beside Gilwyn, never taking his sight from the enigmatic woman. Baron Glass slowly and awkwardly dropped down next, carefully balancing himself against the table with his single arm. Together the three Liirians waited in silence for someone to speak. Incense burned on the table, wisps of smoke coloring the air a fragrant purple. Lukien looked past the smoke, studying the woman directly across from him. Amused by his curiosity, she tossed him a playful wink. Only then did Lukien notice the glowing amulet around her neck.
“Yes,” said Kadar. “She wears the other Eye of God.”
“Who are you?” Lukien asked the woman. “Are you really the Witch of Grimhold?”
“I am called that by some,” replied the woman. “My name is Minikin.”
Thorin was incredulous. “Are you from Grimhold?”
“I have said so already.”
“She’s the woman I saw in Koth,” said Gilwyn. “I remember her.”
“Yes, and you shouldn’t,” said the woman. “Shame on you, Gilwyn Toms.”
Lukien remembered what Gilwyn had told him, how Figgis had reawakened his memory of the witch. “So it was magic that made you forget her, Gilwyn? Really?”
“I’ve explained it to her,” said Gilwyn. “I told her about Figgis, and how he helped me remember her. This
is
the woman I saw in Koth, Lukien. This is the Witch of Grimhold.”
The little woman rolled her eyes. “My name is
Minikin.”
“Yes, so you claim,” said Thorin, half laughing. “Minikin from Grimhold. I don’t believe it.”
“She wears the amulet, Thorin,” said Lukien. “It must be her.”
“That’s meaningless,” Thorin said, staring hard at the woman. “Kadar gave you that amulet, am I right?”
“You are wrong,” said Kadar. From beneath the table he produced the other Eye of God, slapping it down on the wooden surface. “Let us hear no more of your doubts. This is Ela-daz, the Mistress of Grimhold. And my honored friend.”
Lukien still couldn’t believe it. Even after all he’d been through, Grimhold still seemed like a fairy tale. “Kadar,” he said carefully, “we mean no disrespect, but you have to understand how hard this is for us to believe. Where we come from, Grimhold is a myth.”
“I assure you, Sir Lukien, I’m no myth,” said the woman. “Nor are these amulets. And I know you’ve already seen their powers. It would be wise for you to believe what we’re telling you. There is a Grimhold, and I am its ruler.”
“And I am its protector,” said Kadar. “And that is why the amulet was given to me.”
Gilwyn nodded as if he understood. “So Figgis was right. Grimhold really is beyond Jador, in the mountains.”
“Not far from here, yes,” said Kadar. “You cannot see it because the mountains hide it. But it is there, to the west.”
“Who lives in Grimhold?” Lukien pressed. “Are they really monsters?”
Kadar frowned at the question. The little woman called Minikin lost her cheery smile.
“We are not monsters, Sir Lukien. And Grimhold is not some kind of asylum for freaks. It is my lifelong creation. It is a sanctuary.”
“A sanctuary?” asked Gilwyn. “For who?”
“Why, for people like you, Gilwyn Toms. For people who might not be able to fend for themselves in the so-called normal world. I take them to Grimhold. I teach them how to live and defend themselves. I give them power.”
“You mean magic?” asked Thorin.
“Magic is a word the ignorant use,” said Minikin. “But yes, Baron Glass, you may say so. Like the magic of these amulets, I teach my Inhumans how to use the power of the spirit world.”
“Inhumans? What are they?” asked Lukien.
“That is what we call ourselves,” replied Minikin. “The world looks at us and thinks we are inhuman, so that is our name.”
“But that’s an insult,” Gilwyn protested.
“Words, Gilwyn,” replied Minikin. “That is all they are. Cruel names are meaningless. That is why we accept the slurs others pin on us, to remind ourselves that we are far more than just someone’s misguided opinion. I call myself Minikin because I was called that when I was young. My friend behind me is named Trog, because cruel men called him a troglodyte.” She turned to her mute companion, beaming warmly. “But you see? Trog does not mind. He has learned to ignore the insult, and now it cannot hurt him.”
“I still don’t like it,” said Gilwyn. “Inhumans. It’s a terrible name.”
Minikin’s smile widened. “That’s a great shame, Gilwyn. Because you see, you’re already one of us.”
The statement hushed the gathering. Minikin’s twinkling eyes watched Gilwyn, who simply stared back in disbelief.
“What do you mean?”
“Gilwyn, haven’t you wondered why you were able to look at Queen Cassandra without breaking the spell of the amulet?”
Gilwyn nodded. “Yes. . . .”
“You were marked as an Inhuman,” said Minikin. “So you did not look upon Cassandra with
human
eyes.” She smiled sadly at Lukien. “I am sorry, Sir Lukien, but Gilwyn didn’t know. He was able to look upon your beloved without harming her. Not so with you, I’m afraid.”
“What?” sputtered Lukien. He looked at Gilwyn in shock. “He’s one of you?”
“Am I?” asked Gilwyn. “What do you mean, you marked me?”
“When you were born I heard about your deformities,” began Minikin. “I went to your mother and told her I could take you to a place where the problems of your body would not limit you, a place where you would be safe and cared for. But your mother was certain you would be safe in the castle. She assured me that your new king, Akeela, would not let any harm come to you.” The little woman glowed with pleasure. “Obviously your king kept his promise. But I couldn’t know for certain that he would, so I marked you with a kiss. That way, part of you would always know that Grimhold exists, and that you could come to us if you were ever in need.”
Gilwyn was ashen. “I . . . I don’t believe it.”
“Every word of it is so,” said Kadar. He reached out and gently touched Gilwyn’s clubbed hand. “You were marked as someone special, boy. You have always been one of the Inhumans. And hear me—there is nothing for you to fear.”
“Inhuman,” whispered Lukien. A great feeling of regret rose in his chest. “I looked at Cassandra. I killed her because I’m not one of you.”
Thorin put his hand to Lukien’s shoulder. “You couldn’t possibly have known.”
“No,” agreed Minikin, “you couldn’t. The amulets protect themselves from falling into the wrong hands. I have no control over the Akari inside them.”
“Akari?” repeated Gilwyn. “That’s the second time you mentioned them to me. What are the Akari?”
“It is a lot to explain,” said Minikin. “The amulets are home to powerful spirits. It is they who grant what you call magic.”
“And you’ve worn the other amulet all along,” said Lukien with a sigh. “Great Fate, what fools we were.” He looked apologetically at Kadar. “Forgive us, my lord. Figgis, the man who sent us here, was mistaken. He was a great scholar, but he thought the other amulet was worn by your wife.”
“Your scholar was not so mistaken,” said Minikin. “I am not Kadar’s wife, it is true. But he is my zirhah. Do you know that word?”
Both Lukien and Gilwyn nodded. “Zirhah,” Lukien repeated. “That’s the word Figgis used. It’s Jadori for wife.”
“It is Jadori for wife
and
for servant,” corrected Minikin. “Figgis told you what he read in the old texts, yes?”
“Yes,” said Gilwyn. “He said that the master of the place beyond the desert wears the amulet, and that his zirhah wears the amulet’s twin.”
“And the place beyond the desert is Grimhold, not Jador,” said Lukien. “Figgis had that part right at the end.”
“But the Master of Grimhold isn’t Kahan Kadar,” added Gilwyn. Like Lukien, he too was beginning to understand. He looked at Minikin and said, “
You’re
the Master of Grimhold.”
“And Kadar is my zirhah,” said Minikin. “My servant. That is why we call him Shalafein, the great protector. He protects me and the other Inhumans from the outside world. Because of that he was given the amulet long ago.”
“But why?” asked Thorin, still confused. “Why do you protect them, Lord Kadar?”
Kadar’s face tightened. “It is not important for you to know. All that matters is my oath to them. And why you have been called here.”
“Tell us,” said Lukien. “What do you want of us?”
Kahan Kadar leaned back and considered Lukien as if he were the only person in the room. “I have been thinking of you, Bronze Knight. Ever since I knew of your coming.”
Lukien and his friends glanced at each other.
“Yes,” Kadar continued, “I knew. Ela-daz told me. I waited for you, and I wondered what I should do. But my rage is dead, you see. As I told you, I cannot punish you more than you have been punished already.”
“Then you’ll let us help you?” asked Lukien hopefully.
“We have an army of our own to fight your King Akeela,” said Kadar. “We will defend Jador and Grimhold against him. He has only horses, and he does not know the desert.”
“He’s strong, my lord, make no mistake,” warned Thorin. “And he has all the riches of Liiria, too. He’ll buy whatever transport he needs to bring his army across the desert, horses and all.”
“It does not matter,” said Kadar. “We will fight him. To our deaths if we must.”
“Then let us help you,” Lukien pleaded. “We know Akeela and Trager. We know their tactics. If we fight with you, you’ll have a better chance.”
“Much better,” stressed Thorin. “And still it won’t be easy.”
“But we have some time left,” said Lukien, suddenly excited. “Akeela’s got a whole army with him. He can’t travel quickly. That will give us time to form our defenses. If—”
“Stop,” ordered Kadar. “There’s no need to speak of Jador’s defense, Bronze Knight. I will see to it. You will go to Grimhold.”
“Grimhold? Why?”
“They have need of you,” said Kadar. “You will help defend them.”
“Excuse me, my lord, but that’s foolish. You’re going to make your stand here in the desert, right? So then that’s where I should be.”
“You will go to Grimhold with Ela-daz,” said Kadar evenly.
“But why, damn it?” Lukien jumped to his feet, surprising them all. “Kadar, I’m a fighter. And I’m damn good at it. Please don’t make me go and nursemaid a bunch of cripples!”
As soon as he said the word, Lukien regretted it. From the corner of his eye he saw Gilwyn’s hurt grimace. Minikin’s face was icy.
“Sit down,” ordered Kadar. His voice was calm but steely. Lukien obeyed, kneeling again next to the table. Kadar continued, “You came here because you wished to right a wrong, yes?”
Lukien nodded. “Yes.”
“Did you not slay my wife? Do you not think you owe me something?”
“Yes, Kadar, but—”
“Then you will go to Grimhold with Ela-daz. You will help to defend it from the army of your king. One more man with a sword will not make a difference here. But Grimhold is a mountain keep. And they have no soldiers there. They will need your skills.”
Lukien sighed and shook his head. None of it made any sense to him. “Kadar, I’m a soldier, and I know General Trager’s tactics.”
Kadar waved the comments off. “It is decided. You will go to Grimhold. Baron Glass will stay in Jador.”
“Me?” blurted Thorin. “Why?”
“Do you not also know the tactics of this general?” asked Kadar.
“Well, yes. . . .”
“Good,” said Kadar. “Then you will stay, Baron Glass. You will help us. The Bronze Knight will go to Grimhold. The boy, too.” Kadar turned to Lukien. “You will leave in the morning.”
“No, I still don’t understand,” argued Lukien. “Explain it to me.”
“Sir Lukien, Kahan Kadar has explained it,” said Minikin gently. “Do you not agree that you owe him a debt?”
“My debt is to Jador, not to Grimhold,” snapped Lukien.
“Your debt is to me,” said Kadar sharply, “and I will claim payment any way I wish!”
His shouts rattled the room, so that even Minikin’s mute bodyguard glanced at him. Kadar looked away, smoothing out his vestments as he composed himself.
“Go,” he commanded. “All of you but the Bronze Knight.”
Minikin quickly rose. Smiling, she held out her hand to Gilwyn. “Come, Gilwyn, let’s walk together.”
Gilwyn hesitated, but Lukien shooed him off. “It’s all right,” he said, “go on. You too, Thorin.”
Thorin looked wary. “Are you sure? I could stay.”
“I wish to speak to the knight alone, one-arm,” said Kadar. “Leave us.”

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