A long time ago, Ruana conceded.
‘That’s right. And Karlina and the rest of them have seen the change in him. He hardly ever speaks of Kahldris any more. I tell you, Ruana, his grip is slipping.’
Ruana was quiet, which was really her way of saying she disagreed. Not really caring, Gilwyn collected his bag of food and left the catalogue room, happy to be out of the dark chamber. He stepped immediately into the light of a stained glass window, putting his face to the sunlight with a smile. The day was mild and pretty, a good day for being outside, but Gilwyn still had work to do. First, though, he would break his fast. Out in the hall, he pointed himself quickly to one of his favourite reading rooms, a little nook that let the afternoon sunlight splash through its windows. Bag in hand, he left the catalogue room far behind, happy to forget about it for an hour or so. As usual, the library was empty. While he worked with the machine, only a handful of artisans and carpenters had come to finish up their reconstruction, and today Gilwyn had the entire, massive building to himself. He had long ago grown accustomed to the eerie quiet of the place and it never frightened him, not even at night. To him, the library was always a place of fabulous peace.
Reaching the reading chamber, Gilwyn put down his bag of food beneath the window, then scanned the polished shelves for something promising to read. It didn’t really matter to him what he selected, because he found all of it fascinating, and after the dearth of books he’d endured in Jador, even the worst tome of poetry delighted him. Eventually, he selected just such a book, a collection of ancient prose from long-dead Marnan writers. Gilwyn paged through it as he made his way back to the window and sat down, absently opening up his bag of food and pulling out some fruit and cheese, which he nibbled happily while he read. The sun coming through the glass touched the ancient book, lighting the dust particles that took flight as he turned the pages.
As they always did when he read, the minutes ticked away unnoticed.
Gilwyn ate his fill, settling in for a long read which stretched well beyond his planned hour. When he realized how long he’d been away, he closed the book and leaned his head against the darkly paneled wall. Ruana was in his mind, skimming quietly across its surface. Something puzzled him. He glanced back at the book and remembered the last story he had read, about a man who would not tell his daughters the names of the princelings he had sent them to marry. The secret struck him as strange, and he didn’t know why. For some reason, he thought about Kahldris.
Kahldris hadn’t come to him again, not in all the long weeks he’d been in Koth. The demon had visited him only once, and only then when he was far from Koth, safely away from Thorin. Gilwyn chewed his lip pensively, sure that something plain was being overlooked. In the story, the man was frightened of his daughters, and so never told them of the princes they’d be promised to. The story made no sense to Gilwyn, and neither did his suspicions. His pensiveness snagged Ruana’s attention.
She asked him, What are you thinking, Gilwyn?
‘I’m thinking about Kahldris,’ said Gilwyn, still unsure why. ‘He still hasn’t come to us again. Don’t you think that’s odd? I mean, I expected him to, didn’t you?’
I’m sure he has nothing to say to either of us.
‘But isn’t that strange? He was the one who wanted me here, and now he ignores me. I thought for sure he’d be after me about the catalogue.’ Gilwyn set the book aside and stared blankly across the chamber. ‘It makes no sense.’
Thorin is protecting you from him, perhaps.
‘That’s what I thought, but. .’ He shrugged. ‘He hasn’t even mentioned Kahldris to me, which means that Kahldris isn’t pushing him.’
That’s good, then. Ruana thought for a moment. Isn’t it?
‘I don’t know.’ Gilwyn glanced at the book again, and then it came to him. ‘I think he’s afraid of me, Ruana. I think he’s afraid of the influence I have over Thorin. Remember? You told me that the first time he came to us in Roall. You were right, but he didn’t even know it then. Now he sees how Thorin feels about me.’
He stood up, then started pacing. His theory made sense. He was sure it did.
Yes, Ruana agreed after a moment. He knows that if he harms you, Thorin will be angry with him.
‘Right! So maybe he doesn’t have such a stranglehold on Thorin after all.’
Gilwyn’s mind was racing suddenly, thinking through the possibilities. He had been working like a madman to find out about Malator, any little scrap that might help him defeat Kahldris. Now, it seemed Kahldris himself was afraid of him. Surely that meant an opportunity.
‘I can drive them apart,’ he mused. ‘That’s what he’s afraid of.’
No. Ruana’s voice was adamant. Forget what you are thinking, Gilwyn.
But Gilwyn had already convinced himself. ‘Let’s see how tough he is, Ruana.’
No!
‘Yes! How can I know how to beat him if I don’t know anything about him? I have to face him!’
Gilwyn picked up the remnants of his lunch and hurried out of the chamber. There was a lot to do, a lot to plan. Somehow, he needed to tempt the demon out of hiding.
Gilwyn spent the next several days spending all the time that he could with Thorin. Rarely leaving the baron’s side, the two took every meal together, rode for long hours in the crisp countryside, and whiled away their time at the ponds that surrounded Lionkeep. Thorin, who still wore the arm of his Devil’s Armour everywhere, nevertheless ignored the subject of Kahldris completely, focusing instead on the progress he had made in Koth the last few months. Since Gilwyn’s arrival, Koth had prospered, he explained ecstatically, and for the first time in a long while Baron Glass seemed very much like the man Gilwyn had known before. They were good days, full of laughter, but Gilwyn had his own reasons for spending so much time with Thorin. Slowly, he wedged himself between the baron and the demon that controlled him.
On those rare times when he wasn’t with Thorin, Gilwyn carefully badmouthed Kahldris to anyone who would listen. He found a willing — even fascinated audience in Karlina — who listened intently as Gilwyn told her about how weak he thought the armour really was, and that the demon who dwelt within its metal was a coward. When he told this to the stable boys, he had them enraptured, and when he repeated this to the maids they were scandalized. Gilwyn was cautious, however, and never let Thorin hear what he was saying. He knew, however, that Kahldris heard everything. Day by day, he made it his mission to criticize the unseen spirit, sparing no insult in his attempt to rile Kahldris from his hiding place. After a week, however, Kahldris still had not appeared to him. Gilwyn kept up his verbal assaults, but knew that he needed to take a more direct approach.
Though he was certainly older than most in Lionkeep, Thorin rarely slept these days. The armour gave him unnatural strength, along with the ability to go for days on end without slumber. Gilwyn waited patiently for exhaustion to overtake his friend, knowing Thorin needed to be asleep for what he planned to do. Finally, on a night when rain clouds overtook the glorious day, Thorin retired late to his bedchamber, leaving Gilwyn on the other end of an unfinished game board. Gilwyn watched as Thorin excused himself, then waited an hour more to be sure the baron was asleep. At nearly midnight, the entire castle fell silent, leaving Gilwyn free to explore the cellar where he knew the Devil’s Armour waited.
He had prepared himself for the encounter, yet now felt a pull of fear holding him back. Ruana, who had never cared at all for his plan, muttered to him in his brain, warning him. Gilwyn ignored her counsel; he had made up his mind. There was only one way to find out the things he needed to know, and that was from Kahldris himself. The catalogue had proved useless. So had the library and its awesome stock of books. Not even Ruana knew how to defeat Kahldris. If he had any weaknesses at all, only he knew what they were. But getting him to reveal them was the challenge.