The Devil's Armour (Gollancz S.F.) (40 page)

Jazana Carr leaned back in her thronelike chair. ‘Look around.’

‘Ha! Yes, I’ve seen your army, woman. A bunch of cutthroats. These men that you’ve massed here; my forces could best them in a day. You think you’re rich? You think you have an army? You have nothing compared to me!’

‘I have the means to defeat you, Baron. Somehow, you should force yourself to believe that.’

Ravel struggled with her words. What she was saying was impossible. ‘My lady, if you mean to test my coffers, you will lose.’

Jazana Carr replied, ‘I would enjoy that test very much.’

The statement was unbelievable. Ravel could not fathom her conceit. He rose, looking around the chamber. The shocked faces of his men stared back at him.

‘This is a trap,’ he gasped. ‘Is that why you brought me here? To force this bargain on me?’

‘I told you, my lord, I brought you here for your own good. I intend to take Liiria. I have a point to make, you see, and you’re standing in my way. But it doesn’t have to be that way. You can join me and keep the good life you have.’

‘As your lapdog? You must be insane.’

Rodrik Varl rose slowly to his feet. Bern did the same, locking eyes with the mercenary. The silence in the chamber grew deathly. But Jazana Carr remained placid, madly confident.

‘You have a choice to make, Baron Ravel, and you need to make it right now. You can’t believe that I’m more powerful than you. I know; I’ve seen so many men like you that I no longer blame them for it. You’re not really at fault. It’s a product of your arrogance. But this is a time for clear thinking. You may be the richest
man
in the world, Baron Ravel, but I have the resources to bury you. Please believe that, for your own sake.’

‘Or what?’

‘Or, you can go back to Andola and make ready for war. It won’t do any good, but at least you’ll have the chance to act brave. Men love doing things like that.’

Ravel studied her face and knew she wasn’t bluffing. She
was
insane, he concluded. ‘And you’ll just let us walk out of here? Just like that?’

Unbelievably, she replied, ‘If that’s what you want. Why would I stop you?’

‘Because that’s what I would do, kill my enemies. I wouldn’t let them just walk out of here!’

‘Perhaps, if I were afraid of you, I would do that,’ said Jazana Carr.

The unnerving answer came with a smile. Too surprised to react, Baron Ravel simply stood there for a moment, his eyes darting around the room, waiting for an attack that never came. His own men sat unmoving in their seats. Bern and Rodrik Varl still stared each other down. It was decision time, and Ravel made it quickly.

‘You are a wild child, Jazana Carr. You may be something special in this dust bowl called Norvor, but in Liiria you will be nothing but a troublesome gnat. Let my men and me out of here and I’ll prove that to you.’

Gesturing toward the doors, the Diamond Queen said, ‘It was nice meeting you, Baron Ravel. I’ll see you again.’

Still, Ravel didn’t move.

‘This is no deception, Baron,’ Jazana Carr assured. ‘No one is waiting to assassinate you. You’re free to go, all of you. Your horses and carriage are in the yard.’

Ravel looked at Bern, who in turn looked at his waiting men. He told them to rise and they did so. To their astonishment none of the Norvans moved to stop them. Even Jazana Carr remained seated. For a moment Ravel thought of plunging a dagger through her breast and ending her mad existence, but he knew he’d only die in the effort. Slowly, he inched his way off the dais with Bern. Again no one moved. Finally sure that the queen wasn’t bluffing, Ravel stepped into the centre of the chamber, told his men to leave, and remained behind while they exited.

‘You’re a very brave woman,’ he told her. ‘But you are only a woman, and there are lessons you need to learn. When you come to Andola I will teach you these things.’

‘Other men have tried, Baron,’ countered Jazana Carr. ‘But if you want your chance to instruct me, I’ll oblige you.’

Her arrogance was hateful; Ravel could stand no more of it. He thundered out of the chamber with Colonel Bern close at his heels, following his men through the hallways of Hanging Man and into the courtyard. Remarkably, Jazana Carr had kept her word. They found their horses there, fed and watered, along with Ravel’s private carriage. Norvan soldiers remained at their posts, but none moved a finger to stop them.

In the shadow of the great fortress, Baron Ravel climbed into his fancy conveyance and prepared for the long ride home.

‘Mountains don’t need men. But men need mountains sometimes, I think.’

From her place across the room, Simah puzzled over the brooding words and did not know what her master meant. Ravel ignored her, continuing to stare out the window of his chamber. In the hills surrounding his city he could see countless pinpoints of fire, lighting up the night like stars. They had come like a noose to encircle Andola, building day by day until he could see nothing else on the horizon. Tonight, though, Baron Ravel knew there would be no more of them. There were enough, finally, so many that even Jazana Carr was satisfied.

‘I wish I could go to the mountains,’ he said. It was a lament, because his mountains didn’t really exist any more. They were a memory from his boyhood, and certainly could never be so sweet again. ‘I would hide there, and when I came down from the mountains this would all be over.’

His slave said nothing. She had said very little in the hours since he had sent for her. At first he had thought she would be a nice diversion, something to take his mind off the coming horror, but his lust had shrivelled up and died, and now all he wanted was to stare out the window at the Norvan hordes. He wondered how long his own forces could hold out, and if Colonel Bern could keep his men loyal. He wondered how Jazana Carr had mustered so many troops, marching them so quickly across the border. In little
less than a month she had made good on her promise to take away his city.

Simah waited, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. In a few more hours it would be dawn, and so far neither of them had slept at all. Remarkably, Simah did not seem afraid. Though everyone else seemed to tremble at the impending invasion, Simah’s dispassion was constant. Ravel supposed she would relish his destruction. In the month since he had bought her, she had not warmed to him as he had hoped. Yet he adored her, and did not want her to go. She was perhaps the most beautiful thing he owned, and he wanted to look at her before he lost everything. He could see her image in the glass, wavy and confused, unsure why he had brought her here if not to dance or share his bed. She wore a dress that sparkled with gold thread. Her eyes watched him as he gazed out the window, and there was no contempt in her expression.

‘Would you leave us?’ she said suddenly. Surprised, Ravel turned to look at her. She sat perfectly still in a chair near his vast bed, an undisturbed glass of wine on the table beside her. Not once had she joined him at the window, as if she already knew what had gathered out there to crush them.

‘What?’

‘If you could, would you go to your mountains and leave us?’

It was her impertinence that made her special, Ravel supposed. He had wanted her to love him, but now she never would.

‘The city is surrounded,’ he told her.

She nodded. ‘But if it weren’t, I mean. If you could, would you flee?’

‘If I could I would flee and take you with me,’ he said. ‘But there’s nothing to be done for it. You’re as doomed as I am, and for the same reason.’

‘My lord?’

‘Pride, girl,’ Ravel sighed.

His admission surprised Simah. It was very quiet in the
room. It was as though he could hear the thoughts in her head.

‘I’ll give you what you want, Simah,’ he said, ‘and tell you what you so badly want to hear, what all you bitches live for. Your master was wrong, and there’s the proof of it.’ He pointed a fat finger toward the window, the long hem of his sleeve snapping. ‘Look, damn you!’

Simah rose from the chair and glided toward the glass. He put his hand on her back so that she could not pull away, not until she had seen all the horror and had her fill of his failure. Ravel laughed hysterically.

‘See them? See them now? It’s what you wanted, I know it. And now you have your wish. Now all of you can see that I am imperfect. It must be grand for you.’

The campfires of the Norvans stretched into the hills surrounding Andola. Simah’s blue eyes watched them impassively. Her indifference infuriated Ravel. He wanted to strike her. Instead he started weeping.

‘There’s not a god worth praying to that can get me out of this now,’ he said. He still could not comprehend Jazana Carr’s power. Simah turned to him, her face without pity, and Ravel knew finally that he had never understood women at all, or how fierce they could be. He sneered, ‘Is it so much better to die than to be in my company? Is that what makes you so contented?’

Simah did not quickly answer him. Since the coming of the Norvans, she had stopped her sycophantic replies.

‘My lord, your argument is with the Diamond Queen, not me.’

‘She wants me to surrender, girl! Don’t you understand? Well, I will not! I have men, and they will fight. And if need be, they will die.’

‘Will they, my lord?’

The question haunted Ravel. Colonel Bern had posted men throughout the city, in the streets and at the bastions. They were soldiers bought and paid for, but what kind of pledge was that? Baron Ravel sat himself down at the edge
of his bed. In all his life, he could never recall a time when he’d felt so alone.

‘I have been kind to you,’ he said softly. ‘Maybe you don’t think so, but I have. Can you not be kind to me tonight? This will be the last chance you’ll have to show that you do not hate me.’ He looked up at her. ‘Are you so cruel, child?’

Simah – his slave – glanced at the door, then back at him. Clearly, she contemplated leaving. But then pity – another unfathomable trait of womanhood – warmed her blue eyes. She did not leave him. With the gathering storm outside the window, she sat back down in her chair.

Jazana Carr had made camp at the foot of a tall hill near the southern tip of Andola, across a wide plain that afforded a good view of the city and her men surrounding it. Here she had set up her pavilion days before, when she herself had arrived from Hanging Man to see the progress Rodrik Varl had made. It had been overcast the day she arrived, but she could still see her men massed in the plains surrounding Andola, preparing themselves for the coming battle. There were thousands of them, each company summoned from a different part of Norvor. The banners of their varied cities snapped ominously in the wind. Mercenaries by the hundreds had answered her call, as had lifelong soldiers from the conquered Norvan cities of Rolga and Ard and Poolv and Vicvar. The Diamond Queen was pleased. She was sure that Baron Ravel quaked this night, hiding somewhere in his fabulous castle, dreading the dawn.

Now, dawn was coming fast and true. Inside her pavilion, Jazana Carr presided over the last meeting she would have with her commanders until the city was taken. Rodrik Varl stood beside her, at the head of a table circled with eager men. There was no food or drink served; there was time only for talk. Jazana Carr spoke very little, letting Varl speak instead. From her chair she studied the faces of her commanders, looking for any sign of hesitancy. Except for Varl, there was none at all. The mercenary Kaj listened as
Varl went over the battle plan, nodding his dark head. He and his Crusaders would have the hardest task of all – taking the eastern wall. The duty did not seem to bother Kaj, who remained cool. Jazana Carr’s gaze flicked toward Count Onikil. Of all the gathered leaders, the count was the most willing to invade Liiria. Jazana supposed he had his reasons, though he did not volunteer them. His fellow Rolgans had already secured the western front, cutting off Andola from the rest of Liiria. If Ravel had hoped for aid from Koth, it would not come.

To the north Lord Dugald’s army was positioned, prepared to advance down from the hills on the city’s softest flank. Along with Count Onikil, they would squeeze the breath out of Ravel like a python. Because he had the easiest task of any commander, Dugald leaned back in his chair with an air of disinterest. His overconfidence irked Rodrik Varl.

‘This will not be easy,’ Varl scolded. He looked from one to the next, stopping at Dugald. ‘Ravel’s men have the higher ground and the weapons to hold it. And they’re fighting for their city.’