The Devil's Armour (Gollancz S.F.) (77 page)

Jazana Carr yet waits
, Kahldris reminded him.
There is time yet to defeat her
.

‘Time,’ echoed Glass. ‘Yes.’

Coming out of his stupor he saw that Koth was not at all abandoned. Though there was little commerce left in her, there were people in its streets and outlying villages, farms filled with freshly broken earth and traffic in the avenues. He would find Breck here, Thorin knew, and the army he was forging to defend Koth. His eyes tilted skyward slightly, toward the far edge of the city. There, breaking the horizon, stood Library Hill. Like a great brooding gargoyle the library that had once shone as a beacon still rose defiantly over Koth, casting its powerful shadow over everything. Not far to its east were the ruins of Lionkeep, the former home of the Liirian kings, looking pale and overgrown in the darkness of the library.

‘The Cathedral of Knowledge.’

The words came to Thorin’s lips like a prayer. He had never wanted the library built. He had thought it folly. In his exile he had never seen its grand completion, remembering it only as a footprint of stones and masonry. Now, as he stared at it, the old baron could not help but be impressed. The thing had bled Koth’s coffers dry, but it was undeniably magnificent.

There is hope
, thought Thorin, for he was from a breed that had built great things. Perhaps it did not matter that their greatest challenges yet lay ahead. He put his hand on the breast of his armour, the hand that no longer existed, made animate by magic. The enormous force of the armour’s power jolted through his body. Suddenly he knew what Kahldris had tried to tell him – there was no one in the world who could defeat him. Not even Jazana Carr.

With a confident shout he hurried his horse down the hillside.

It had taken some time for Vanlandinghale to warm to Breck, but now, like almost everyone else serving under
him, he worshipped the man. In the long months since he had returned to Liiria, Van had become indispensable to Breck, and to his great pride the commander now relied on him heavily. Winter had given them a much needed respite; Jazana Carr had not moved her armies out of Andola yet. And the men of Library Hill had squeezed every second out of the season to build their defences. They were almost a thousand strong now, culling men from nearby provinces and holding on to those who had come from Andola. Nevins, the cavalry major who had served Baron Ravel, had kept his promise to be loyal to Breck and had proven an excellent leader of men, rising quickly in Breck’s inner circle. Murdon, too, retained Breck’s ear, always quick with good advice. Captain Aliston, who had come from Andola with Nevins, had also proven an asset, training teams of archers for the inevitable clash with the Diamond Queen.

But it was Vanlandinghale whom Breck confided in, and Van was not sure why. At the end of tiring days they would share a drink together, the lieutenant always eager to please the man he had come to call a hero. Van loved Breck because Breck trusted him and had given his life meaning again, something it had not had in years. He did his best to tell the commander all he knew about Jazana Carr, and in turn Breck listened intently and filed the information quietly in his calculating brain, sure to pull it out when needed. Van supposed Breck appreciated his candour. Perhaps that was why the commander always asked Van – and no one else – to ride with him to the villages.

The day was exceptional, warm and bright with sunlight. Koth was busy as always, the fields around the city being prepared for planting by hopeful farmers. Soldiers walked the avenues or returned from patrols, scouting the countryside that had remained blessedly quiet. And Breck, as he was apt to do on pleasant days, had chosen to patrol the city himself, as much to enjoy the fresh air as to check on Koth’s security. He had asked Van to accompany him and Van had obliged, happy to leave his other duties aside for a while.
Together they had ranged the villages around Koth, leaving in late morning and not returning until mid-afternoon.

Breck was exceptionally closed-mouthed during the ride. At first Van wondered why, then realised how heavily the coming spring was weighing on his commander. Despite their many talks, he still knew surprisingly little about Breck, or about the family he sheltered in the library, a wife and son that, like Breck, kept mainly to themselves. But Van had become good at reading the commander’s mood, and knew that today he brooded. It would not be long now before word reached them of movement out of Andola. They had all dreaded the spring for that reason, preferring instead the cold but predictable terrors of winter.

Van decided not to press Breck about it. Today, Breck merely wanted company and not conversation.

By the time they returned to the heart of the city Van was famished. Not expecting to have been gone so long, they had only brought drink with them, and not even a hard biscuit to chew on. As they neared Library Hill, Van decided to break the silence.

‘Past time for midday meal, you think?’

They were at the foot of the hill with the long road winding upwards ahead of them. The lulling clip-clop of their horses was the only sound. Breck shrugged as if he hadn’t really heard the question.

‘Don’t know. Maybe.’

‘The other officers probably waited,’ said Van, knowing that was the custom. No one wanted to start eating before Breck sat down. ‘Good too, because I could eat a mule.’

Again Breck didn’t answer, but this time for a reason. Another horseman, coming toward them from the opposite direction, had caught his attention. Van took cautious notice of the big man. Others had, too. Heads in the distance turned in his direction. Breck reined in his horse, signalling Van to do the same. The horseman rode slowly toward them. He was a stranger, certainly, a military man in a kind of armour Van had never seen before. Unworldly-looking,
jet black and shining, the armour covered the big man’s body, all but his head. His eyes met Breck’s and Van’s, his expression serious. Not a young man, he nevertheless carried an aura of power around him. In his armour and determination, he was frightening to behold.

‘Commander . . .’

‘I see him.’ Breck sat motionless atop his horse as the man drew nearer. Then, ‘Great Fate Almighty . . .’

Van glanced at him. ‘What?’

The commander waited for the rider to face them, eventually drawing his horse to a halt. Now that he was closer, Van could see the age in his face, and the intricate patterns of his strange armour. He did not look at Van, but rather stared almost knowingly at Breck. The two men studied each other, oddly quiet.

‘In all my life I never thought to see you again,’ said Breck.

‘You’re Breck,’ said the man. ‘I remember you.’

Breck’s face was fierce. If this was a friend he greeted, he did not act like it. ‘It hasn’t been so long, Baron. Just long enough for Liiria to fall apart.’

‘That’s why I’m here,’ declared the stranger. ‘To bring her back to glory.’

The answer left Van confused. He cleared his throat to remind Breck he was there. Breck looked at him sideways.

‘Van, have you ever met a man of infamy before?’

Van didn’t know how, but in that instant he knew the man’s identity. He looked at the stranger, awed by the possibility as Breck confirmed his guess.

‘This is a living legend, Van,’ said the commander with some contempt. ‘This is Baron Thorin Glass.’

Van and Breck did not go to their midday meal as planned. Instead they rode up to the library in secret, letting Baron Glass trail behind them. When they got to the yard, Breck barked to a young man to take away all of their horses. Not surprisingly, Baron Glass took the unusual helmet off his
saddle and kept it with him as Breck led him into the library. There were curious stares as they entered, all of which Breck waved off, ordering his men to keep quiet and not ask questions. None of them knew who their odd guest was, and Breck seemed relieved by that. He offered no explanation as he took the baron and Van to the old study, the place that had once belonged to the dead librarian, Figgis. Breck did not call any other officers to the meeting. Instead he closed the door quickly behind him, ordering his underlings not to disturb them, not even if the place caught fire. Baron Glass remained quiet throughout. He placed his helmet down on a tall stack of dusty books. As he stood there waiting, the horned thing stared at Van.

Baron Thorin Glass was more than Van expected. He had imagined the old man to be withered by now, maybe toasted brown by his days in the desert, his skin a wrinkled saddlebag. Baron Glass was none of those things. He was tall, and glowing with good health. His eyes glistened with youth that should not have been there. More importantly, he had both arms, and everyone knew that Baron Glass had lost his left arm years before. Just as Breck had not mentioned anything of Glass’ son, Aric, he pretended not to notice the miraculous appendage, though the sight of it disconcerted Van. Could the wizards of Grimhold grow back arms?

Breck had said almost nothing to Glass. Now, neither of them sat in the study’s chairs. They simply stood and looked at each other.

‘I have a million questions,’ said Breck. His tone was miserable. ‘And I don’t know where to start.’

Baron Glass replied, ‘I did not expect you to welcome me back to Koth, Sir Breck. I only expect you to listen to me.’

‘Why should I?’

‘Because I’ve come to help you.’

The answer intrigued Van and Breck both. Like his commander, Van had countless questions, but decided to hold his tongue and let Breck do the interrogating.

‘You’ve come all the way from Grimhold?’

The baron nodded. ‘Indeed I have.’

The next question surprised Van. Breck paused for a moment, then asked, ‘How is Lukien? Does he still live?’

Amazingly, Baron Glass smiled at the enquiry. ‘Lukien is well. If he knew I was coming here he would have sent his regards, I’m sure.’

‘What do you mean?’ Realising his voice was carrying, Breck glanced at the door a moment. ‘Lukien doesn’t know you’ve come here? Why not?’

‘Because I had to come and he would not have wanted me to. Because he has his hands full with his own problems.’ Glass looked at Breck seriously. ‘Because I have brought you something he did not want me to bring.’

Unable to stop himself, Van asked, ‘That armour?’

Baron Glass regarded him. ‘That’s right. And before I say another word, please tell me who you are.’

‘Lieutenant Vanlandinghale,’ replied Van. ‘A Royal Charger. I worked for Jazana Carr, after you left her.’

The mention of the Diamond Queen made Glass’ face tighten horribly. ‘Jazana Carr is the reason I’ve come. I know she is moving against Koth soon. I’m here to help you stop her.’

‘With that armour?’ asked Breck. He took a small step closer and surveyed Glass up and down. Like Van, he was clearly puzzled by its construction. It seemed to give the baron no trouble at all. It barely made a sound when he walked. Its mirror brightness was like looking at the sun, if the sun was black as hell. ‘This is a thing of Grimhold,’ said Breck, ‘a magic thing.’

‘It is,’ said Glass. ‘An amazing thing.’

Finally Breck said, ‘And your arm? Is that a magic thing as well?’

‘It is the armour,’ said Glass. ‘It has healed me.’

‘Severed arms do not heal, Baron Glass. Specifically, now – explain it to me.’

‘I cannot explain it,’ said Glass. ‘Nor would you believe
me if I could. The magic of Grimhold is still a mystery to me. But it is powerful, Sir Breck. It is enough to defeat Jazana Carr.’

Breck’s eyebrows shot up. ‘That, sir, is a very tall claim. And I think you know nothing about Jazana Carr these days, or the army she has massed against us.’

‘Respectfully, Baron Glass, Breck is right,’ said Van. ‘It has been almost two years since you have seen Jazana Carr. She is more powerful now. She has defeated King Lorn . . .’

Van stopped himself suddenly, remembering Lorn. He looked at Breck, who nodded.

‘You are not the only one to have come here claiming to know how to beat her, Baron Glass. King Lorn himself was here to try and aid us.’ Breck’s eyes narrowed. ‘But you must know that already.’

Glass frowned at the notion. ‘Why would I know that? Is King Lorn not dead yet?’

Breck and Van glanced at each other. ‘Apparently,’ said Breck, ‘the magic of Grimhold isn’t powerful enough to tell you everything. King Lorn left us for Grimhold some months ago, Baron. He took many others with him, people who wanted to go there to be healed.’

The news fell heavily on Glass. ‘There are many who come to Grimhold these days,’ he sighed. ‘Lorn was only one of a flood. And I could have easily missed him, or left Grimhold before he made it there.’

‘Or perhaps he didn’t make it at all,’ surmised Van, not liking that idea at all.

Breck rubbed his neck, which was turning red in all the confusion. ‘Baron Glass, none of this makes sense to me. You say Lukien doesn’t know you’ve come here? And this armour – what is it?’

‘It is a relic of Grimhold,’ said Glass. ‘And no, Lukien did not know that I was coming here. He does now, no doubt, and is probably on his way after me.’ The baron finally leaned back against the wall, as though about to make a confession. ‘This armour is called the Devil’s Armour,’ he
said softly. ‘It is very ancient, very powerful. There is no one who can defeat me while I wear it, for it has a great spirit that protects me. If you took out your dagger and tried all day and night to scratch it, Sir Breck, you could not. But I stole the armour, so that I could come here and help you.’ He looked at Van this time. ‘So you see, my friend, you are wrong about Jazana Carr. No matter how many men she has made her whores, there is not one of them that can defeat me now.’