‘Will you let me touch it, Lukien?’ asked White-Eye.
Lukien hesitated. ‘White-Eye. . no. Not yet. I want to speak with Minikin. She should be the first to see it.’
White-Eye retreated from him. ‘I have sent for her. She will want to speak to you as well.’ Her blank eyes searched for the sword at his belt, then filled with sadness. ‘When will you tell us what happened to you, Lukien? We have waited so long.’
Her sincerity overwhelmed him. ‘I have come so far,’ he groaned, turning away from them both to stare at the stone wall. ‘All of this you’ve told me — I didn’t expect any of it.’
‘But you have the sword,’ Lorn pointed out.
‘So? What of it?’
‘You have found what you quested for. Now you have the means to defeat Baron Glass.’
‘What?’ Puzzled, Lukien stepped toward Lorn. ‘Why would you know about the sword anyway? No one in Jador knows I was looking for it.’ He searched White-Eye for an answer. ‘How did you know?’ He thought for a moment. ‘Was it Minikin? Did she find out somehow?’
White-Eye was clearly keeping something from him. Lorn shifted toward her. ‘You should tell him,’ he suggested.
‘Tell me? Tell me what?’ queried Lukien.
‘Lukien, there is someone else here to see you,’ said White-Eye reluctantly. ‘A man from Nith. He came to us some weeks ago, bearing a letter from Aric Glass.’
‘Thorin Glass’ son,’ said Lorn.
‘I know who he is,’ snorted Lukien. ‘I fought with him in Koth. White-Eye, what’s in the letter? What does it say?’
‘I do not know, Lukien. The messenger who brought it has orders not to give it to anyone but you. He said that you would return here. He was sure of it.’
Lukien grinned at the news. ‘Because Aric knows about the sword. That means he’s still alive.’
‘Alive, and waiting for you in Nith,’ said Lorn. The old king looked grave. ‘He thinks you mean to march on Koth again. Do you?’
‘Of course.’ Lukien patted his sword confidently. ‘I have this with me now.’
Lorn drew a breath of anticipation. ‘Then I want to go with you, Sir Lukien.’
White-Eye’s face collapsed. Lukien looked at Lorn in shock.
‘Why?’ he growled.
‘To fight with you, to help you free your land and my own,’ said Lorn. ‘Jazana Carr usurped me, Sir Lukien. She stole my soul from me.’
Lukien laughed. ‘For revenge, then? Forget it.’
‘But I can help you! I can fight, and there are still men in Norvor who would follow me. I can call them to your side.’ Lorn grew excited. ‘Even if you have the sword, you’ll still have to fight an army to get to Baron Glass.’
‘You forget yourself, King Lorn,’ Lukien mocked. ‘These Jadori may not know you, but I do. I would never let you have Norvor again. Better that Jazana Carr should let it rot.’
Thunder flashed across Lorn’s face. ‘You cannot keep me here,’ he seethed.
‘Would you leave us so easily?’ asked White-Eye, hurt by Lorn’s words.
‘Not easily,’ said Lorn. He softened as he looked at her. ‘White-Eye, look at you! You are a queen now, a real Kahana! You don’t need me anymore. Let me go with your blessing.’
‘It’s not up to her,’ said Lukien. ‘It’s up to me, and I say no.’ He moved toward the exit, angry suddenly and no longer wanting to talk to either of them. ‘White-Eye, I want to speak to Minikin,’ he said.
Looking forlorn in the light of the lanterns on the wall, White-Eye nodded. ‘She will be here. Perhaps tomorrow.’
‘Good,’ Lukien snapped. ‘I don’t want to be bothered until then.’
Not really sure where he was going, Lukien left the tiny chamber, his long-anticipated homecoming ruined.
In the main pool of the palace bathhouse, Lukien luxuriated in the warm, perfumed water, his arms stretched along the marble edge, keeping his chin just above the surface. Steam rose up from the placid pool, disappearing in wisps as it floated toward the domed ceiling. Tall columns lined the walls of the vast chamber, and the pool itself licked at them, surrounding them and stretching out to the dark edges of the bathhouse. There were five pools of crystal water in the house, but this one — the main pool — was by far the largest. Here, the water ranged in depth from many feet to just a few inches, so that the youngest members of the royal household could enjoy a bath as well. Lukien rested somewhere in the middle, still able to feel the bottom of the pool on his backside. He had forgotten how good it felt to relax and do nothing. The waters of the bathhouse washed away cares and woes as easily as desert dust.
Architecturally, the bathhouse was splendid, like everything in the palace. Kahan Kadar had never spared expenses while building his home, and the bathhouse reflected his good taste. Usually, the baths were filled with people, but today they had abandoned the warm waters, leaving them for Lukien to enjoy. The solitude did not bother Lukien in the least. He had only been in Jador for a day, but already he longed to be alone.
No, he told himself, closing his one eye and sighing. That wasn’t quite true. He had missed White-Eye and all the others, but her news had left him distraught and he no longer cared to speak with her about his long trek across the world. All the things he had seen and done — these were things to share with Gilwyn. But Gilwyn wasn’t here. Lukien let his naked body float in the steaming pool, feeling the warm waters untie the knots in his weary muscles.
His eye opened, and Lukien saw the dark end of the bathhouse shrouded in shadows. Around him, gurgling water soothed him with its music as it tumbled over fountains and rocks. The mosaic patterns on the ceiling calmed him with its colours of gold and coral. Protectively, he glanced over to where his clothing sat in a nearby pile. Along with his shirt and trousers lay the Sword of Angels, looking unloved in its battered sheath. Within an arms length of Lukien, the sword still managed to keep him alive, unlike the Eye of God which he still wore around his neck. Thinking of the amulet, Lukien lifted it off its chest and held it up, dripping wet. He saw his face reflected in the gold, wavy and curious, lit by the light of its ever-glowing ruby.
‘Amaraz,’ he said, ‘are you still there?’
As always, there was no answer from the Akari. Lukien laughed.
‘It doesn’t matter. Soon you’ll be back in Minikin’s care. And I will be done with you forever.’
The prospect made him strangely sad. He had never liked Amaraz, nor really appreciated the gift the spirit had given him. Now, though, the thought of parting with the great spirit made him pensive. He let go of the amulet, letting it sink back onto his chest. Like the rest of him, the skin of his chest bore numerous scars. Looking at his naked body, Lukien grimaced. There were battles yet to fight, still more scars to bear. But he was almost done.
‘Almost,’ he whispered drowsily. ‘Almost. .’
His eye began to close again, then he caught a glimpse of something at the other end of the bathhouse. A figure moved through the shadows, peering out its little head toward him. The unmistakable coat swam with colour, and the pointed ears twitched. Minikin stepped out from behind one of the columns to grin at him. Lukien smiled back at her, pleased beyond words to see the mistress.
‘I’m not wearing anything,’ he warned jokingly.
Minikin snorted at his modesty. ‘Please, Lukien. You are still a baby to me.’
‘Come ahead, then,’ he bade. ‘If you don’t mind getting wet.’
Moving like a cat, Minikin picked her way along the edge of the pool, avoiding the puddles of water that had collected on the marble. Her colourful coat shined as the tones of the water reflected in its strange fabric. Her quick movements gave her a bouncing look as she loped toward him. Lukien, unmoved by his nudeness, merely sat up a little to greet her, not bothering to cover himself at all. It was true what she had told him — despite his age, he was a comparative infant to the ancient Minikin, and there was nothing about a man’s physique she hadn’t seen a thousand times. There were no benches in this part of the bathhouse, no place at all for the little woman to sit. When she reached Lukien, she stood over him, smiling.