‘My lady,’ Simah stammered, ‘I don’t understand. .’
‘You are free,’ repeated Jazana. She took Simah’s hand and led her out of the chamber. ‘In time you will learn what that means.’
18
Over the course of several weeks Lorn and his daughter Poppy settled into the rhythm of Koth’s great library. Like many of the places they had been since fleeing Carlion the library had become a home to them, and Lorn was pleased with the time he had spent there. It had been months since he’d felt useful. He conferred almost daily with Breck, telling him about Jazana Carr, his experiences in fighting her, and what the defenders of Koth might expect from her war machine. To Breck, Lorn was a fount of insight. The information he passed to the commander was always met with thanks, and after a while the two forged a grudging friendship. Because most in Breck’s army still mistrusted Lorn, he was not often present in their meetings. Instead he usually spoke privately with Breck and sometimes his closest aides, leaving the lower-ranking men to wonder about him. Their mistrust did not offend Lorn. He admired the men who had answered Breck’s call. Against Jazana Carr they would quite probably die, and their willingness to do so demanded respect.
When he was not with Breck or alone jotting down journals full of tactics, Lorn spent most of his time with Eiriann and her father, Garthel. Because he shared a room with them he had gotten to know the strange pair more intimately than he’d known anyone in years, save his beloved Rinka. Living quarters were cramped in the library, and Lorn had only a corner of the room for himself, enough for a bunk and a small cradle for Poppy. As he had promised Eiriann that first night when he’d met her, he confessed his true identity to her early that next morning. By then Eiriann had already heard about it, and she surprised Lorn by not being shocked at all. While Breck’s soldiers continued to gossip about Lorn and his colourful past, Eiriann and the others planning to leave for Mount Believer were too preoccupied with their preparations to waste time with idle chit-chat. Lorn soon learned that there were thirty others like Eiriann and her father, all desperate people with various maladies who intended to make the trek across the Desert of Tears. While Lorn conferred with Breck and fretted over the library’s defence, these poor folk made cloth and gathered supplies and bartered for pack animals, all in anticipation of their departure.
For Lorn the arrangement was remarkably good. Eiriann continued to wet-nurse Poppy without complaint, happy to be useful and feel like a whole woman. It was a wrenching thing to watch at times, for the girl who had lost three children of her own became a surrogate mother to Poppy, and Lorn wondered what would happen when Eiriann left, and if she would be heartbroken if Lorn and Poppy did not go with them. The preparations the group had been making were nearly completed now. There was talk of them leaving for Mount Believer within days. Yet Lorn still hadn’t decided whether to go with them or not. He merely let Eiriann and her father go on thinking he would accompany them, for by some strange belief in Lorn’s morality Eiriann simply couldn’t fathom anything else. He was needed, she had told him, not just by Poppy but by all the infirm going to Grimhold.
Eiriann’s faith in Lorn seemed unshakable. Unlike Van and the others, she put no credence to his nickname King Lorn the Wicked, and she never once questioned him about his past or the ugly things he was purported to have done. While rumours swept through the library almost daily about how he had abandoned his men at Carlion or poisoned his friend Duke Rihards or let his own people starve, Eiriann ignored them all with a smile, sure that he had somehow changed and that the Great Fate, that mystical, remarkable force of Liiria, had brought him to them for a reason.
Sadly, Vanlandinghale did not share Eiriann’s faith. Since discovering Lorn’s true past, Van had grown distant and the two had seen each other only seldom in the subsequent weeks. Lorn realised that his friend — if that’s what Van was — had been occupied in becoming a soldier again and had little time to discuss what had happened. Although it seemed to Lorn that Van’s anger had dissipated, they remained estranged from each other, the fracture made worse by the fact that Van bunked with Breck’s soldiers instead of with the citizens, as Lorn did. Eventually, Lorn gave up trying to speak to Van. He had promised Van to keep him informed about things but never had, and he supposed it wasn’t really necessary. Van had a purpose in life again and that was good. According to Breck, he was finally fitting in with the rest of the Royal Chargers.
Then, exactly four weeks after coming to the library, Lorn decided he needed to speak with Van. It was a decision forced on him by Eiriann, who informed him that she and the others were ready to leave and would do so in two days. As always, the girl assumed that Lorn would go with them. Unable to disappoint her, Lorn remained vague, but he realised a time of decision had come. He needed answers. He needed to speak with Van.
It was mid-afternoon and the day was surprisingly warm. Library Hill bustled with activity as Breck’s soldiers continued erecting defences and training with their mounts and weapons. Women and girls washed clothes and hung them to dry in the yards, while men and boys from the city did the work of tending animals and stacking grain. Supplies continued to be brought in from the corners of Koth, for it was said that Jazana Carr had moved on Liiria and that a great battle was about to take place in Andola. The soldiers and the people they protected worked diligently to prepare the library for siege. Eiriann and the others — who collectively called themselves the Believers — continued their own preparations as if nothing threatened them. And indeed, they were unthreatened by Jazana Carr. By the time her forces arrived in Koth they would be long gone.
But would Lorn be going with them? Deciding between a fairy tale and the reality of slaying Jazana Carr was too much for Lorn to decide on his own. It surprised him that he needed Van to help make his choice. So Lorn went in search of Van, and after asking around discovered his friend hard at work mending an ancient stone fence on the south side of Library Hill. Van was all alone at his toil, working shirtless in the sun with a pile of stones and a pail of mortar beside him. Away from the others and kneeling near the stubby wall, he looked strange doing the work of a tradesman. But he also looked content. Lorn paused a good distance from his friend, watching him as he worked the mortar with a trowel, carefully eyeing its level before laying the heavy stones. Sweat ran down his bare back, which had been cooked red from the sun. Too involved in his work to notice the interruption, it was not until Lorn’s shadow crossed his view that he started. He turned around with trowel in hand, but his face fell when he noticed Lorn.
The two men stared at each other for an awkward moment.
‘You do good work,’ said Lorn.
Van glanced at his uneven mortar line and shrugged. ‘Trying.’
‘I need to talk to you.’
The request vexed Van. After a moment he said, ‘I need a break anyway,’ then put down his trowel and sat himself on the grass. The sun struck his eyes, and he squinted as he looked up at Lorn. ‘You want to sit? Oh wait! Maybe I should be standing. You’re a king, after all.’
Lorn remained on his feet. ‘You’ll get no apology from me. I did what was required to protect my daughter. And we all have secrets. . don’t we, Van?’
‘Ah, is that why you’re here? Because I didn’t tell you about Grimhold? I was wondering when you’d come about that.’
‘Eiriann and the other Believers are leaving soon, probably in a day or two. I have to make a decision whether or not to go with them.’