‘That is so,’ echoed Lorn. ‘You should listen to him, Van. Demons drive Jazana Carr. She’s insatiable. You may go on thinking me a tyrant; I can’t change that. But this is your country at stake now.’
‘You don’t have to convince me,’ said Van. ‘I’m here, aren’t I? I’ll fight Jazana Carr with you, Lorn.’ Amazingly, a hint of acceptance crossed his face. ‘Now we’ll both have a chance to prove ourselves.’
Lorn smirked. For some reason, he still liked the arrogant Vanlandinghale. There would be no real truce with Van tonight, but maybe in time. He turned back to Breck. ‘I expect no special treatment,’ he said. ‘I’m not asking for anything but the chance to help you defeat Jazana Carr. I’ll tell you everything I can about her. I’ll pick up a sword and fight. And if I get close enough, I’ll cut out her heart and eat it.’
Breck smiled. ‘Let’s pray to the Fate that you get your chance, Lorn the Wicked. But it won’t be tonight. Right now we all need rest, and I have a wife waiting for me. Murdon, take them somewhere and make them comfortable. If they’re hungry give them food.’
‘Commander, my daughter. .’
‘Your daughter is being cared for,’ said Murdon. ‘I’ll take you to her.’
‘We’ll talk in the morning, Lorn,’ Breck added. ‘Lieutenant Vanlandinghale, you’ll be reporting to Murdon. He’ll tell you everything you need to know.’
Van gave a reluctant nod. ‘I understand, sir.’
Breck sighed and rolled his head around his shoulders until the muscles in his neck popped. ‘Dismissed, all of you.’
The men seated at the long table rose and began filing from the chamber, following Breck toward the door. Aric Glass, however, stayed behind, as did Murdon.
‘There’s room in my barracks,’ volunteered Aric. ‘They can both quarter with me.’
‘Just Van,’ said Murdon. ‘He’s a soldier. He needs to be around other Chargers again.’
‘What about me?’ asked Lorn.
‘You come with me. There are other people you can stay with.’
Before Murdon could lead him away Lorn paused and said to Van, ‘I’ll see you in the morning, after I speak with Breck. I’ll tell you what happens, keep you informed.’
The offer got only a nod from Van, who followed Aric out of the room.
‘I’d like to see my daughter,’ said Lorn as Murdon headed for the door.
‘That’s where I’m taking you.’
‘That man Garthel you sent to me — will I be boarding with him?’
‘We keep the citizens away from the soldiers. That’s where you’ll be sleeping.’
‘That’s what I guessed.’ To Lorn it really didn’t matter. He had meant what he’d said to Breck — he wasn’t looking for luxury. He only wanted the chance to battle Jazana Carr. And, if possible, to keep Poppy safe.
Concern for his daughter sped Lorn’s pace as he followed Murdon out of the chamber. He was not sure how quickly word would spread of his identity, and he was too weary to argue with anyone else. In the morning he would deal with Vanlandinghale and try to convince him of his worthiness. Tonight, though, he wanted only to sleep and keep up the pretence that had kept him anonymous so long. He was grateful that the halls of the library were mostly empty now. At last, the soldiers and citizens calling the place home had retired to bed. Lorn took the time to study the library as they walked, noting its stout construction. The architects of the library had unwittingly built Koth a fortress, a formidable perch from which to defend the city. There was a good chance that they could hold off Jazana Carr’s forces here and hold Koth indefinitely. Given time, maybe they could rally other Liirian cities to their defence. The odds were terrible, but from here they just might be able to turn the tide against the Diamond Queen.
But those were concerns for the morrow, and Lorn decided not to keep himself awake with them. In the morning he would strategise with Breck, and for that he needed rest. He was glad when Murdon finally led him up one of the library’s towers, supposing he would discover his sleeping quarters there. As he stepped out into a new hall of brick and torchlight, an air of peace and silence seized him. Murdon walked more quietly here and led the former king to a room at the end of the hall. Murdon paused a few paces from the threshold. There was no door to the room, just a rounded arch of stone. Lorn could see candlelight emanating from inside. A woman’s voice spoke softly, but he could not make out the words.
‘In there,’ whispered Murdon. ‘Your daughter.’
It didn’t occur to Lorn to ask if this was where he’d be sleeping. Knowing Poppy was inside he went to the room with a hasty goodnight, leaving Murdon and entering the soft-lit chamber. Cautiously he peered inside, spying the walls filled with books and the floor lined with chairs of different sizes, some so small they were obviously for children. Blankets and pillows draped much of the furniture, all of which was smoothly worn with overuse. A single window graced the room. Cut into the farthest wall, it let in soft moonlight. The white light struck the face of a young woman in a chair near the window, cradling Poppy in her arms and whispering to her, oblivious to Lorn’s presence. There was a book in her hand, propped up while she held Poppy. Her eyes were wide and dramatic as she read from the book. As though she could hear the story being told, Poppy’s expression was serene. Lorn stopped breathing for a moment. The simple beauty of the sight was like a hammer-blow. The woman’s honey-coloured hair reminded him of Rinka, his dead wife. Mesmerised, Lorn watched the young woman. The smoothness of her skin and the poetry of her voice enraptured him. She was young, perhaps eighteen, perhaps a little older. Was this Garthel’s daughter? Had she nursed Poppy? Lorn looked around the room and realised there was no bed, just chairs and books and blankets. Not wanting to frighten the woman, he softly cleared his throat.
She looked up and smiled at him. Her green eyes gleamed from across the room.
‘Akan?’
Lorn nodded. ‘Yes,’ he replied. He took a step closer. Poppy’s eyes drooped with sleepiness.
‘She’s tired,’ remarked the woman. ‘Such a good girl. A good eater.’
‘You fed her?’ Lorn asked. It was the first time he noticed the towel beside the woman’s chair.
‘My father asked me to,’ said the woman. ‘He brought Reena to me, told me you were meeting with Breck.’
‘I thank you, madam,’ Lorn said. He went close enough to see Poppy’s face, but not so close that the woman felt compelled to hand the child over. Seeing his daughter so at peace heartened him. ‘Your father, Garthel. . he told me not to worry about her. I see now that he was right. You have a way with her.’
The woman’s smile turned melancholy. ‘It is easy to care for such a little creature,’ she said. ‘Look. . see how contented she is?’
It was true. Poppy had obviously eaten her fill and now seemed blissful.
‘She is a good child,’ agreed Lorn. ‘But not all women have your skill with her. I’m grateful to you, madam. It’s only luck that brought you and I here together. I’m fortunate that you have your own child.’
The woman’s face darkened. ‘No, sir, you are mistaken.’
‘No?’ Lorn looked at her in puzzlement. ‘But you are nursing. .’
‘Because there are other infants here that I care for,’ said the woman. ‘I wet-nurse them.’
Lorn didn’t know everything about women, but he knew for sure that a woman without a child couldn’t nurse. ‘Madam, forgive me, but you say you have no baby of your own? How can that be? Your father told me you had a child.’
‘Did he tell you also that my child is dead?’
The casual question made Lorn start. He cursed his stupidity.
‘Apologies, madam. It’s late and I’m tired. I should have realised what you were saying.’
‘Do not be sorry,’ said the woman. She hefted Poppy in her arms, then started rocking her. ‘You were right to think as you did. I had a child recently, a boy. But he died an hour after birth.’ Amazingly, she kept a soft expression as she explained herself. ‘He was my third, you see. All born the same. All dead out of my cursed womb. But I’m of some use here, at least. Until we leave for Mount Believer, I can be a help.’