‘Lukien, you have questions, I know,’ said White-Eye. ‘Let me answer them for you my own way.’
‘What’s wrong?’ asked the knight.
White-Eye hesitated. To Lorn, she looked more frightened now than when she had confronted Baralosus. The old king fought the urge to stand beside her.
‘Minikin is in Grimhold, Lukien,’ said White-Eye. Her voice went brittle. ‘And Gilwyn is not here.’
Lukien started. ‘Is he all right?’
‘I do not know, Lukien. He has left Jador. He followed after you to Liiria.’
‘Liiria?’ the knight erupted. ‘Why? Damn the Fate, White-Eye, tell me what’s going on.’
White-Eye shook her head. ‘Not here, Lukien. Please. .’ She gestured to the crowd, all of whom had been so pleased to see the Liirian return. ‘They’re here to see you, Lukien.’
Lorn watched Lukien carefully as the knight struggled to control himself. The news about Gilwyn had overwhelmed him. ‘I want to talk now,’ he said softly. ‘Away from these others.’
‘I will tell you everything I can, Lukien,’ said White-Eye, ‘but first tell me this — did you find the sword you quested for?’
Lukien seemed surprised. ‘How did you know about that?’
‘Did you find it?’ pressed the girl.
‘Yes.’ Lukien dropped his hand to his side to touch his sword. ‘But you can’t see it. .’
White-Eye grimaced. ‘No.’
‘It’s called the Sword of Angels.’ Lukien’s tone fell flat. ‘It’s the means to beat the armour, White-Eye.’
‘I want to know all about it.’
‘And I want to know what’s happened to you,’ said Lukien. ‘And to Gilwyn.’
Something in Lukien’s tone made Lorn snap. He didn’t like the arrogant knight at all. Still holding Poppy, he stepped out to defend White-Eye. ‘Gilwyn left of his own accord,’ he said sharply. ‘White-Eye had nothing to do with it.’
The probing, single eye turned to Lorn angrily. ‘Who in all the hells are you?’ he growled.
White-Eye put up her hand. ‘Lorn, don’t. .’
‘I am Lorn, King of Norvor,’ declared Lorn. ‘And for a knight so devoted to his queen, you speak like a peasant.’
‘What?’ sputtered Lukien. He laughed in disbelief. ‘You are Lorn the Wicked? I say prove it.’
‘Lukien, stop now,’ ordered White-Eye. ‘He is who he claims. He is Lorn.’
Lorn held his ground. ‘The King of Norvor.’
‘The King of Norvor is dead,’ hissed Lukien. ‘Run off his throne by Jazana Carr.’
‘He is Lorn!’ spat Eiriann.
‘Stop this!’ White-Eye shouted, getting between them. ‘Lukien, you do not understand. You have been gone; you don’t know what has happened.’
‘Then tell me!’
‘Lorn came to us with others across the desert,’ said White-Eye. ‘He helped us. He helped me, Lukien!’ The Kahana carefully took Lukien’s hand again and gently led him away. ‘Let me explain it all to you.’
‘What do you mean, he put Lorn in charge?’ Lukien blared. In the tiny, private chamber, his voice boomed. ‘I don’t believe it. Gilwyn is smarter than that.’
White-Eye remained standing before him. All of them stood, in fact, including Lorn, who stayed close to White-Eye as he stared angrily at Lukien. With the three of them in the chamber, the room was hot with emotion. White-Eye had remained remarkably calm. Lukien, on the other hand, could not believe his ears.
‘Gilwyn saw no other choice,’ White-Eye explained. ‘Jador needed a leader, and I could not do it. Not then.’
‘Why not?’ Lukien pressed. He had never seen White-Eye so confident. She seemed the perfect queen. ‘You are your father’s daughter, White-Eye. Jador is your birthright, not his.’
Lorn bristled as Lukien jabbed a finger toward him. ‘I’ve made no claims on Jador.’
Lukien ignored him. ‘Explain this to me, White-Eye, because I’m starting to think I am dreaming all of this! You were blinded by Kahldris, so Gilwyn went after him?’
‘He wanted revenge,’ said Lorn.
‘And you let him seek it?’ Lukien turned with a hiss. ‘I know you, Lorn. I fought against you when Jazana Carr had you running with your tail between your legs! You’re a brigand and a butcher. Of course you would encourage a boy like Gilwyn to seek revenge. Of course you would!’
‘I did no such thing,’ said the Norvan. He was a big man, who despite his age still looked capable of combat. ‘Nor did I ask for the task of training your queen. Minikin herself asked me to do so.’
‘Minikin asked you?’ erupted Lukien. It was too unbelievable. ‘Why would she do that?’
‘Because I needed him!’ said White-Eye. ‘Because I was broken by my blindness and no one else could help me. Lorn was a king once. He knew what I needed to do to protect Jador.’
‘Ah,’ sighed Lukien, ‘now I see. Those battlements along the wall — he did that, didn’t he?’
Lorn stood his ground. ‘Jador was like a lamb ready for the wolves,’ he said. ‘The city could barely defend itself. Someone had to change that.’
‘And you’re just the man to make a city ready for siege,’ snarled Lukien. ‘White-Eye, this man is using you! He’s duped you, and Gilwyn. But I can’t believe he’s fooled Minikin, too.’
‘We know Lorn’s history, Lukien,’ White-Eye assured him. ‘But you don’t know what he has done for us.’ She paused, preparing herself. ‘Aztar is dead, Lukien.’
Lukien softened. ‘No one told me that,’ he said. ‘What happened?’
‘He had changed,’ said White-Eye, her face brightening with a smile. ‘He helped Gilwyn across the desert. He defended us from Baralosus of Ganjor. That is how he died.’
‘Aztar did that?’ The claim was unbelievable to Lukien, who had fought the minions of the desert prince many times. ‘I don’t understand. Why would Baralosus attack?’
‘Because he had designs on Jador from the starts,’ said Lorn, openly contemptuous of Lukien’s ignorance. ‘And because his daughter Salina came here for sanctuary.’
‘We would not give her up, Lukien,’ added White-Eye. ‘She helped us too many times for us to turn her over.’
‘So? What happened?’
‘Your Kahana stood up to them,’ declared Lorn, sounding surprisingly proud. ‘You see? She is not the little girl you left behind, Sir Lukien. And Jador is not the same, either.’
Lukien fought to stem his simmering temper. Too much was coming at him to make sense of, and Lorn clearly had the advantage. White-Eye’s adoration of him was frightening.
‘White-Eye, listen to me now,’ he said, mustering his calmest voice. He took the girl aside to press his point. ‘Your blindness has frightened you. And from what you’ve told me of Minikin, she is too distraught herself to be much use to anyone. But I tell you what I know in my heart — this wretched man is not the saviour you want him to be. Let us touch the bottom of this swamp and see the truth! I fought against him for years. I was in Norvor and I know him.’
‘But you do not, Lukien,’ said White-Eye sadly. ‘You have been gone.’
The accusation stung Lukien. ‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘I’ve been gone too long. And maybe I should never have left you. If I’d been here to protect you-’
‘Stop.’ White-Eye found his face and put a finger on his lips. She smiled at him. ‘You could not protect me. No one could. What Kahldris did to me was beyond anyone’s power to stop. I tried to tell that to Gilwyn, Lukien. I never wanted him to go.’
The profound loss in her voice proved her wounded love. Confused, Lukien relented.
‘I have to much to tell you,’ he lamented. ‘I wanted this homecoming to be a happy one.’
‘It is, Shalafein,’ said White-Eye. She pulled him down to her, kissing his forehead. ‘My Shalafein. I never doubted you would come back. And we will celebrate! We will feast and you will tell me everything that has happened to you.’ Her hand slipped down to his belt, feeling for his sword. ‘This is it. This is the sword.’
‘Yes,’ said Lukien darkly. ‘The Sword of Angels.’
White-Eye grinned. ‘I wish I could see it.’ She turned to Lorn. ‘Lorn, is it very grand?’
Lorn eyed the weapon at Lukien’s side. ‘It is sheathed,’ he said sourly. There was a trace of envy in his tone.