Lukien didn’t know, because Malator had done little to give him solace. And solace was what the knight needed more than anything this evening, more than food or friendship. He needed to see the face of his Akari and be told that everything would be alright. Leaving behind the light of the camp, Lukien walked through the tall weeds of the meadow, brushing aside the cattails and switches of grass. The ground was damp beneath his feet but solid. He could hear the rustle of wildlife from the nearby lake. Overhead, the moon glowed big and bright, lighting his way. He walked until the voices of his companions fell away and he could no longer see them. For what he was about to do, he needed privacy.
Finally, near the centre of the sprawling meadow, Lukien stopped. He took a breath, glancing around then pausing to stare up at the moon and the stars that had come out to greet him. He saw the great sweep of milky cosmos, feeling small beneath it and confused. In his hand he held the Sword of Angels in its sheath, and through his fingers felt the pulsing of its steel, alive with Malator. The spirit in the metal sensed his trepidation, but said nothing. Lukien pulled the sword from its sheath and held it high toward the moon, not really sure if it was a ritual or not.
‘Malator,’ he said, ‘I need you. Show yourself to me, please.’
It took only a moment for the spirit to respond. Shimmering into being, the figure of Malator came to stand before the knight, dressed as he had been that first time they’d met in a simple shirt and trousers. Malator, youthful and confident, smiled at Lukien, clearly reading the trouble on his host’s face. Lukien lowered the sword and looked at him, still amazed that a ghost accompanied him everywhere.
‘You don’t have to do that, you know,’ said Malator wryly.
‘Do what?’ asked Lukien.
‘Summon me like that. There’s no trick to it, Lukien. If you want me, just ask. I’m always with you.’
A little embarrassed, Lukien put the sword back into its sheath. ‘I wanted to speak to you away from the others,’ he explained. ‘You haven’t come to me in a while. I was concerned.’
‘I know when you are concerned, Lukien, and when you are happy or tired or hungry. I know what you’re worrying about.’ Malator looked around, absorbing the night air into his ethereal body. ‘It’s cooler here,’ he said. He looked back at Lukien with a flash of mischief. ‘Almost time.’
‘It is almost time,’ agreed Lukien. ‘Are you ready? Have you been preparing yourself?’
Malator studied him. ‘It’s not me that needs to prepare himself. It is you, Lukien.’ As though he were one of Lukien’s riding cohorts, Malator sat down cross-legged on the ground, a peculiar sight considering the ethereal state of his legs. He looked up at Lukien expectedly. ‘Talk,’ he directed.
Lukien took his meaning, but knew not where to begin. He had a hundred worries running through his mind, and no way to quell them. Instead of sitting down in front of Malator he paced around him with his sword in hand.
‘This is Nith,’ he sighed. ‘We’re a day out. Soon I’ll be seeing Aric again, and then we’ll be riding for Liiria. Your brother, Malator.’
‘I know,’ said Malator. ‘I can feel him getting closer.’
‘But you haven’t spoken to me about him,’ argued Lukien. ‘You haven’t said a word about how you plan to fight him, nothing beyond what you’ve already told me. I want to know if you’re ready, Malator.’
‘And I want to know if you are ready, Lukien.’ Malator’s tone was surprisingly stern. ‘I have all the talents I need to fight my brother. What do you want from me? A promise that I will defeat him?’
‘That would be very nice, yes!’
‘Well I can’t give you that. So you can go on gnashing your teeth all you like. All I can do is go with you and do this thing you ask of me. But what I need is a host who won’t lose his nerve.’
‘What?’ Lukien stopped to stare at him. ‘My nerve is as steely as ever, Malator.’
‘No,’ said the spirit. ‘I don’t think it is. I’ve been in your head, remember. I’ve felt what you’ve felt. You see, I can’t do my best unless the one who wields the sword is prepared. And all you’ve been doing is thinking about your last battle with Baron Glass. You’re afraid.’
The words struck Lukien hard. He made to strike back, then stopped himself.
‘Let me force you to face it,’ Malator went on, ‘since you won’t admit it yourself. I’ll be that little voice in your head that tells you when something’s not right.’ His eyes pierced Lukien, never blinking. ‘When you can’t sleep at night, it’s because you remember lying in your blood in the middle of the road. You remember what it was like to have your muscles set on fire. And all you could do was let Glass toss you around like a doll and hope he wouldn’t kill you.’
Lukien stopped breathing, confronted by his own nightmares. In the meadow it seemed that time had collapsed, bringing him back to that awful moment in Koth when Thorin held his life in his hands like so many grains of sand. Malator’s hypnotic gaze held him, refusing to let him look away. Lukien shuddered.
‘There’s nothing I can hide from you, is there?’ he whispered. ‘You see me too clearly.’
‘It is good to be afraid, Lukien,’ said Malator gently. ‘And if you cannot tell the others, then you can tell me because I know already.’
Lukien lowered his head. ‘I have never been afraid like this,’ he said. Even his words frightened him. ‘Never in my life. I have seen death a thousand times. Hell, I have craved it! But this. .’ He groped for an explanation. ‘Facing Kahldris was worse then death. Like being eaten by a dragon, slowly bit by bit.’
Malator was plainly moved. His face twisted with sympathy. ‘When he and I were boys, even our mother was afraid of Kahldris. And then when he became a general, his men thought he was a demon and they were right. They followed him because he was strong and fearless, but they never loved him. No one ever loved Kahldris, because no one ever could. He gathers fear around him like a cloak, Lukien. He has had a thousand years to learn the craft. You are brave even to face him again.’
‘I don’t feel brave,’ whispered Lukien. ‘I feel like a little boy.’ It was hard for Lukien to face Malator. He raised his eyes slowly. ‘You are right about me, Malator. I’m afraid, and I do not know what I will do when I face him again.’
‘You will fight, I have no doubt of it,’ said Malator. ‘But you must be as strong as Kahldris, Lukien. It will not be easy for me to battle him. You will need all your skill to give me the time I need. That means you must be there completely. If you are afraid, they will sense it and use it against you.’
‘But I am afraid,’ said Lukien hopelessly. ‘And I cannot shake it.’
Malator rose and floated closer to Lukien. Despite his slight frame, there was a tautness to him that gave Lukien confidence. ‘Then I will be strong for both of us. You must trust me.’
‘I do.’
‘Perhaps you do a little, but it must be complete.’ The Akari laughed to leaven the mood. ‘I have not been doing nothing, you know! I have been thinking, and I know I can beat my brother. I need you to believe in me, Lukien.’
Lukien gave a wan smile. ‘I’m hungry,’ he said miserably.
‘Go back to your friends,’ said Malator. ‘And know that I am with you.’
The Akari disappeared then, blinking out of the world as quickly as he’d come. Lukien stared blankly at the place he had been, feeling lost.
By the time the Bronze Knight reached the castle, Aric Glass had already learned of his arrival. It didn’t take long for the rest of the keep to spring into action, either, as the servants who regularly took care of things prepared for their new guests. Sentries at the castle gate reported that the quartet had entered the courtyard, where they were waiting for someone — anyone — to greet them. Aric, who had been occupied in his chambers when the news of their arrival came, pulled on a pair of boots and ran down the hallways of castle Nith, eager to see his old comrade. As bad luck would have it, Prince Daralor was not in the castle. The prince had been gone the last few days, visiting a cousin in a nearby province. His ministers, however, were already falling over themselves to see to the needs of their new visitors. As Aric raced toward the courtyard, he found Daralor’s trusted aide Gravis waiting for him, dressed in royal finery and just as anxious as Aric to meet the newcomers. He waved at Aric to hurry.