‘I’m ready.’
It had taken Lukien hours to appear, but Breck had never doubted he would come.
‘The dawn comes fast, Lukien,’ said Breck softly. ‘Listen to the drums.’
Lukien cocked his ear to hear the martial noise. His one eye blinked contemptuously.
‘He’s chosen the Rolgans to lead,’ he said, referring to Thorin. ‘That’s a surprise after what he did to Onikil.’ He looked around, noting the stares of the many men who had yet to return to their duties. Breck expected him to comment on their numbers, but he did not. ‘They’re fine,’ he said. ‘Brave.’ He looked at Aric Glass. ‘All of them.’
Aric puffed at the praise, his eyes full of admiration. ‘You’ll fight with us, here at the west side?’ he asked hopefully.
‘I’ll fight wherever Breck will have me fight,’ said Lukien.
‘It’ll be worse here than the east side,’ said Breck. ‘You should stay with us here.’
Lukien got down from his horse. Like its rider, the huge beast was laden with armour. ‘Do I have a post?’
‘Just stay out front where the men can see you. Look. . see the way they watch you? They need to see you, Lukien.’ Breck grinned. ‘So try not to get killed.’
Lukien’s expression remained serious. ‘I cannot be killed, Breck. No matter how much I may wish it.’
‘Ah, you sound like Glass now!’
‘It is not a boast, Breck. It’s something you need to know.’ Lukien’s face darkened with shame. ‘I have kept it from you, but now it’s time to show you.’
‘What?’ asked Breck with a frown. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I know you don’t approve of Grimhold’s magic,’ said Lukien, digging into his breastplate. He caught hold of a chain and began to tug. ‘I thought to never show you this, but I shan’t keep secrets from you, not any more.’
Breck watched as he pulled on the chain, drawing it awkwardly from beneath his breastplate. His suspicions heightened, he expected to see a charm on the other end or some sort of twisted rabbit’s foot. Instead he saw a dazzling amulet and, knowing what it was, let out a horrible groan.
‘Lukien. .’
Lukien let the thing dangle on his breastplate, the ruby at its centre pulsing with life. Aric gasped when he saw it.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘That’s the Eye of God,’ snapped Breck. He looked furiously at Lukien. A year ago, it was this same cursed thing that had kept Cassandra alive. ‘You’ve had it all along, Lukien?’
‘It’s keeping me alive, Breck,’ said Lukien. ‘I took a mortal blow in Grimhold. Without this amulet I would have been dead long ago.’
‘Damnable magic!’ growled Breck. ‘You bring this filth into my country, you and Thorin both! Look around, Lukien — look what all this magic has brought us!’
Lukien kept calm in the face of Breck’s storm. ‘This is the means to defeat Thorin’s armour, Breck. It’s the only way. It’s kept me alive when I should have been dead. It will keep me alive if I have to battle Thorin.’
Breck shook his head in exasperation. ‘How do you know that? How do you know any of these trinkets you’ve brought are worth anything at all? Look what the armour has done to Baron Glass, Lukien.’ He pointed with disgust at the Eye. ‘How do you know that thing won’t do the same to you?’
‘Because it hasn’t done so already,’ said Lukien. ‘Because the Akari spirit inside it is trustworthy.’
Breck rolled his eyes. ‘Gods, listen to yourself. That’s the same nonsense Thorin believed.’
Lukien took the amulet in his hand and held it tight. ‘It gives me strength. Strength enough to defeat Thorin if need be. And when Thorin falls, the rest of them will, too. It’s the only hope we have.’
They were all looking at Lukien, not only Aric but all the other gathered soldiers, too. Breck bit his lip, not wanting to argue with the man who was their hero.
‘You deceived me, Lukien,’ he said.
‘I did not. I promised you I would stay and fight. Well, here I am.’
The two old comrades shared a charged glare. At last, Breck relented.
‘You may wear your amulet, then,’ he said. ‘And hope it does not betray you, or the rest of us.’ Then, a little smile crept over his face. ‘It will be good to fight with you again, Bronze Knight.’
Van looked out over the walls he had built with a sense of solid satisfaction. At the base of Library Hill, a mercenary army numbering in the thousands had camped, setting up their catapults to soften the library’s walls and the will of its defenders, but Vanlandinghale of the Royal Chargers refused to be afraid. He had been given an important duty by Breck himself, to look after the civilians in the library. Among them were Breck’s wife and son, and Van had no intention of letting them be harmed. It was bravado, he knew, but as he surveyed the walls he allowed himself a modicum of pride. Major Nevins was in command now, and would fight the main force when they tried to breach the hill. Murdon was his second, and as such had a role at least as important as Van’s, but the walls belonged to Van. If Nevins fell and Murdon failed, only the walls and the last defenders would remain to hold the library.
It could have been so much easier, Van knew. If Breck hadn’t taken so many men to the city, if they had all held out inside the library, they could have withstood the siege for days. They had even sent word to Reec for help, and there was still a chance that the Reecian king would heed their pleas. But Breck wasn’t like that, and had refused to leave the cityfolk to fend for themselves. There were still plenty of civilians in Koth, all of whom were in dire peril from Baron Glass and Jazana Carr. Van smiled as he thought of his brave commander, willingly leaving the library’s safety. He had taken Aric and Lukien and hundreds of others with him, but he had insisted that Van stay behind.
‘Look after them,’ he had whispered to Van, afraid for his wife and son. And then he had gone, riding down the hillside for Koth, where he would quite probably die.
We will all die, thought Van.
Around him his men checked the walls and set traps for the invaders, ignoring exhaustion in their zeal to be ready. Now the morning was coming fast; the drums in the hills had been playing for an hour. Van checked his sidearm — a long, thin sword — patting it like a lover to reassure himself. He should have been exhausted himself, for he had been up for countless hours, but the dread of the coming battle kept his nerves taut and his mind alive with fire. Deciding to inspect the grounds, he left the shadows of the walls and went toward the field surrounding them. Gazing up to the tower he saw his men stationed in the buttresses, ready with longbows. His crossbowmen would be stationed closer to the action, where their lesser range but greater power would be more useful. He was about to check the furthest wall when he saw Mirage hurrying toward him.
Mirage, if that was truly her name, had been a blessing to Van. Since Onikil’s head had come to the library, Mirage had done everything possible to be of use to Breck and his soldiers, and now she had become indispensable, preparing bandages as well as meals and even doing the dirty work of digging ditches and fletching arrows, a skill she was surprisingly deft at. She spoke very little of her past, which did not surprise Van at all, or about Grimhold, where she had gotten her exotic name. If she had any magical powers she had never revealed them, but she had shown herself to be courageous, completely unwilling to leave the library to join the other refugees who had evacuated the place. As Mirage saw Van across the field, she waved to him. In her hand she held a steaming mug.
‘I thought you’d be hungry,’ she called to him. She raised the mug to show him. ‘For you.’
Van crossed the distance between them, smiling appreciatively. Out in the open as they were, he was sure his men could see him, but he didn’t really care. If Lukien didn’t want her — and clearly he didn’t — he would be proud to court the lovely girl.