Authors: John Marco
The Eyes of God (5 page)
A
keela had been given chambers in the south tower of Castle Hes, overlooking the city and its vast marketplace. They were well appointed rooms, fit for a royal visitor, furnished lavishly with silk and tapestries. A cavernous collection of hallways connected the rooms, so that Akeela not only had a bed chamber, but also a dressing room and a separate room for bathing. A huge bed of iron and brass decorated with plush pillows had been prepared for him, along with a platter of fresh breads and cheeses. Earl Linuk, who had escorted Akeela to the rooms, had told him to rest and make ready for the banquet being prepared for him. Linuk had seen to Akeela personally, while Karis’ servants tended to the other Liirians, finding them rooms on lower floors. Linuk had not expected Lukien to insist on sharing the rooms with Akeela. Cordially, Linuk explained that he had prepared a nearby room for the king’s “bodyguard,” but Lukien had ignored him, choosing instead to remain with Akeela.
keela had been given chambers in the south tower of Castle Hes, overlooking the city and its vast marketplace. They were well appointed rooms, fit for a royal visitor, furnished lavishly with silk and tapestries. A cavernous collection of hallways connected the rooms, so that Akeela not only had a bed chamber, but also a dressing room and a separate room for bathing. A huge bed of iron and brass decorated with plush pillows had been prepared for him, along with a platter of fresh breads and cheeses. Earl Linuk, who had escorted Akeela to the rooms, had told him to rest and make ready for the banquet being prepared for him. Linuk had seen to Akeela personally, while Karis’ servants tended to the other Liirians, finding them rooms on lower floors. Linuk had not expected Lukien to insist on sharing the rooms with Akeela. Cordially, Linuk explained that he had prepared a nearby room for the king’s “bodyguard,” but Lukien had ignored him, choosing instead to remain with Akeela.
Lukien was always with Akeela.
Sometimes, it seemed to Lukien that he had been with Akeela his whole life. They were nothing alike, really, but over the years they had become like brothers, and had even been raised as such by Akeela’s father, Balak, who adored Lukien. Abandoned by his father and orphaned by the death of his mother, Lukien had lived in the streets of Koth, with only his ten-year old wits to protect him from the big-city predators. He had been a thief, stealing what he needed to survive or working for pennies in the slave-like conditions of smithies. By eleven he was emaciated from this grueling life, but by thirteen he was becoming a man, and life in the smithies had strengthened his body and hardened his heart. Then, at fourteen, he had met Akeela.
Akeela, who was three years younger than Lukien, had been touring the Liirian capital with some of his father’s advisors. A contingent of guards had accompanied them, but Akeela, curious about things even then, had wandered off to explore on his own, blundering into the alleys Lukien called home. It hadn’t taken long for the roughs in the area to find the well dressed stranger. Even for his age Akeela was short, but he had defended himself against the youths that had robbed him, swearing when Lukien found him that he’d bloodied the noses of two of them. Of course it was Akeela who was truly bloody. Thoroughly drubbed by the boys, Akeela needed help finding his way back to his royal guardians. And when they had located the guards and gotten Akeela safely into his carriage, the boy-prince had told his protectors not to go looking for the youths that had robbed him, because they were poor and knew no better.
In all the years since then, Lukien had never forgotten that moment. Had he been the victim, he would have tracked the rabble down and killed them, but not so this forgiving youngster. Instead, Akeela had insisted that Lukien return to the castle with them, to get some clean clothing and a good meal, and to meet his father, the king. There, the young Lukien was greeted as a hero for helping the prince, and King Balak had practically adopted him. He hadn’t left the castle since; as he had never left Akeela’s side, because the young prince needed him.
But Lukien always remembered the hard-won lessons of the street, and he had never forgiven his drunken father for leaving him, nor his mother for dying. Those were burdens he carried with him everywhere, even onto the battlefield, and it was an unfortunate enemy indeed who came upon the Bronze Knight and his unwieldy emotions. In Koth’s castle he had grown to manhood, had studied in the Liirian war college, and graduated at the top of his class. He had become the paragon of a horse soldier, rising to command the Royal Chargers. Still Lukien brooded as he recalled his miserable life on the streets of Koth.
All these things Lukien considered as he sat by the window overlooking Hes’ marketplace, absently chewing an apple. From high in the tower, Hes looked much the same as Koth, and the similarity triggered unpleasant memories. Lukien stretched out, holding back a sigh. Inside the dressing chamber, Akeela was preparing for the celebration. Lukien himself had already dressed, choosing a tunic of plain brown and some stiff black boots that Karis’ servants had provided. Already Lukien felt himself growing anxious. He didn’t like the idea of eating with Reecians, or of spending the evening being stared at. But Akeela was in a fine mood, for he had brokered his peace with Karis and was ready to celebrate. As the young king readied himself in the nearby chamber, Lukien could hear him whistling.
Whistling. Lukien couldn’t help but laugh. At twenty-four, Akeela still resembled the boy he had rescued in the alley.
“Akeela the Good,” he whispered, shaking his head. An apt name for such a blameless man. Suddenly, Lukien was pleased with his life as Akeela’s champion. Sometimes brothers are less than friends, he knew, but that didn’t mean there was love lost. Putting aside his half-eaten apple, he got out of the chair and strode toward the dressing chamber. “Almost ready?” he called. “They’ll be expecting us.”
Akeela stepped out of the small room, his hair shining with oil, his blue tunic stunning. Across his waist rested a silver belt with a small, ceremonial dagger, while on his feet were a pair of thigh-high boots, polished to a gemstone-like luster.
“I’m ready,” he declared. “And I’m starving.”
“Let’s hope these Reecians can cook,” said Lukien. He glanced down at Akeela’s dagger. “You’re taking that?”
Akeela caught his meaning. The Reecians had requested that Lukien himself bear no arms to the banquet. “It’s just for ceremony,” he explained. “Besides, you’ll be sitting next to me. If anyone tries to harm me, you can grab my dagger and save me, all right?”
Lukien didn’t laugh. Without his weapons he felt naked. “I think they’d try to poison you first. Not much good I could do you then.”
Akeela found a mirror in the hall and adjusted his collar. “You don’t trust them, I know. But you’ll see. The time for peace has come. The time for a new Liiria, maybe a whole new world.”
“A grand dream.”
“Nay, not a dream, Lukien. A plan.” The young king smoothed down his hair. “Shall we go?”
With Akeela leading, Lukien followed him out of the chambers and into the hallway where two Reecian guards were waiting, ready to escort them downstairs. They explained that King Karis was already in the banquet chamber, and that many of Akeela’s men had gathered there, too. Akeela walked with eager strides as the guards led them down a flight of stairs, then into another hall, wide and tall. The hall was decorated with flowers, and as they neared the banquet room the strains of music reached their ears. Lukien could see Trager and Breck waiting for them just outside the banquet room. Breck wore a grin while Trager was unreadable, but both had dressed for the evening, sporting long capes trimmed with wolf fur. They looked fit, fine examples of Liirian excellence, and Lukien was proud of them. They bowed to Akeela as he approached.
“How’s it look in there?” Lukien asked Breck, peering over his lieutenant’s shoulder. The chamber was crowded with people and pipe smoke.
“You should see the feast they’ve laid out for us,” Breck replied. He was a big man who loved food, and his appetite shone in his eyes.
“King Karis is already inside, waiting for you, my lord,” Trager told Akeela.
Akeela nodded. “Go on, all of you, go first.”
With a shooing gesture he ushered Trager and Breck into the banquet chamber, then asked the Reecians to proceed. Akeela steadied himself with a breath. Then, with Lukien at his side, he stepped into the tumult of the banquet. Instantly, every head in the chamber turned toward him, and the music grew. A crescendo of applause erupted and the Reecians banged the long banquet tables with their metal tankards and cheered for the foreign king. Servants with platters in their hands stopped in mid-service to gape, and the children of the castle nobles, who had been carefully outfitted in royal finery, pointed and giggled. At the end of the vast chamber, at a raised table against the far wall, King Karis stood and joined the applause. There was a huge goblet in his meaty fist and his beard parted in laughter. Around him were Earl Linuk and a dozen other nobles, while at a table to his left sat a group of lovely women all sharing a striking resemblance. These, Lukien guessed, were Karis’ daughters. He had heard that they were very beautiful, and now he saw the rumors were true. Each wore a long velvet dress and twinkling jewelry, and each had a husband or suitor seated beside her. As Akeela moved into the center of the room, his Royal Chargers, who had already gathered for the feast, gave a large round of cheers, drowning out even the whistling children. The hero’s welcome made Akeela flush. The young king gave a humble smile as he approached the table where Karis waited, two empty chairs directly on his right. Akeela thanked the crowds, trying to speak over the clamor, gesturing for quiet. But there was too much exuberance in the room for that, so he simply made his way to the head table with Lukien. There, with everyone watching, he and King Karis embraced. It was a light embrace, more like a handshake, but the peck the Reecian gave Akeela’s cheek told Lukien it was sincere.
“A great day!” said Karis over the din. “And now, a great night to celebrate!”
Akeela swept an arm over the room, moved by the celebration. “This is wonderful, my lord,” he said. “I’m grateful.”
“It’s well deserved,” replied Karis. “All Reec should celebrate tonight. Now sit, my new friend, and enjoy yourself. Tonight is for getting drunk.”
Akeela sat down next to the king, then Lukien took his own seat beside Akeela. Trager and Breck, who had been waiting for them beside the table, sat down next to Lukien. A pretty serving girl offered him some ale. Lukien held out his goblet, giving her a wink. Trager noticed the flirting and shook his head with disgust.
“What?” asked Lukien.
Trager scowled. “Why would you pretend to want one of these Reecian she-wolves, Captain?” he asked, careful that Akeela did not hear him. “Once she got you in bed she’d emasculate you with her teeth.”
“Sure,” Lukien scoffed. “And how would you know that? Has a Reecian wench gotten to your stones, Trager?”
“They’re our enemies,” said Trager simply. “Piss-filled bags of misery, the lot of them. You of all people should know that, Captain.”
“Times are changing, Trager,” said Lukien simply. “Have some ale.”
The lieutenant folded his arms over his chest. “I won’t drink with these swine.”
“Suit yourself.”
Turning his attention toward the floor, Lukien noticed a clearing between tables. The space just in front of their own table had been left bare, but an instant later an acrobat tumbled into it. As the crowd laughed and clapped, the man somersaulted backwards, landing on his feet again and again. A juggler joined him, then a violinist, and soon the floor was full of entertainers. Lukien settled back to enjoy the show.
From a tiny alcove just beyond the banquet room, Cassandra peered out from behind a velvet curtain, breathless with anticipation. In a moment the soft music would start and her father would call her forth. Cassandra smiled inwardly. She was a fine dancer, and the dress Jancis had made her was tight in all the right places. Even if Akeela was accustomed to beautiful women, she knew she could seduce him. Men were like that when she danced, so pliable, even the hardest of them. Next to her, Jancis was smiling mischievously, enjoying the excitement. From their place in the alcove they could barely see Akeela past the crowds, catching only glimpses of him and his bodyguard, the Bronze Knight. The Liirian king was drinking and laughing. He had dark hair, not unlike Cassandra’s own, and his smile was blinding. Cassandra thought him handsome. Not stunningly handsome, but serviceably so, and that heartened her. She had heard too many stories of duchesses married to beastly brutes, who did nothing but breed them for sons. From the little she knew of the Liirian, he didn’t seem that type at all. And, to Cassandra’s great surprise, neither did his knight.
Lukien of Liiria was easily the more handsome of the pair. He was tall and lean, with the look of a wolf about his sharp face, and his hair was honey-colored, making him seem less threatening than Cassandra had imagined. Like everyone in Reec, she knew the stories of the legendary knight. On this side of the river Kryss, they were evil tales. Yet as she spied him from behind her curtain, Lukien didn’t look evil. He looked remarkably tame.
“Look,” Jancis whispered, pointing toward the head table. “The tumblers are leaving.”
As the entertainers left the floor, Cassandra finally got an unobstructed look at her husband . . .
No, she corrected herself. Not her husband. Not yet. He would have to accept her first, and for that she needed to be perfect. How many women had Akeela been with, she wondered? And she, still a virgin, had to seduce him. The challenge made her pulse race.
“God’s death, what’s taking Father so long?” she muttered.
“Easy,” bade Jancis. “The musicians are coming, see?”
Cassandra craned around the curtain and saw the violinists moving toward the floor. When they made their soft music, her father would call her out. She closed her eyes, summoning her skill, and waited for his call.
Lukien watched with interest as the acrobats cleared the floor. He had been enjoying their antics, and they gave the Reecians in the room something other than him to stare at. A group of musicians were taking the floor, a lute player and a pair of violinists. The lute player tested his instrument, plucking off a string of gentle notes. The sight of them made the knight groan.
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