‘I would imagine he would know,’ Jianna had replied, pointing to the bones on the ground.
‘My guess is that this was Lascarin the Thief,’ Kilvanen had told her. He then outlined the story of the theft of the legendary armour. At the rear of the chamber was a doorway, leading to a blocked tunnel.
Kilvanen had walked along it. Behind him the Eternal had cried out. Kilvanen rushed back.
The Armour was now encased in a block of glittering crystal.
‘What happened, Highness?’ he asked her.
‘It just appeared. Did you touch anything in the tunnel?’
‘No, Highness.’
‘How curious.’ Then, according to Kilvanen she had walked to the crystal and reached out for the sword. Her hand had passed through the block, and she had drawn the blade cleanly. She had laughed then. ‘It is merely an illusion,’ she said, returning the blade to its scabbard. Kilvanen had approached the block — only to find it solid as glass. For a time they talked about the magical phenomenon. Finally Jianna gestured for Kilvanen to draw the blade. This time there was no resistance, and the arcanist pulled the weapon clear. ‘Now put it back,’ she told him. After he had done so Jianna reached towards the glittering helm — only to find her fingers could not pierce the crystal. She had laughed. ‘A clever spell,’ she had said. ‘The crack in the rock through which we arrived was not here when this chamber was built.
The only entrance was the tunnel into which you walked. It is the tunnel which activates the crystal barrier and the sword which causes it to become illusion. This is so fascinating.’
For Kilvanen it had been the most rewarding moment of his life. His joy had been short-lived. Jianna had ordered the opening sealed, leaving the Armour of Bronze untouched. Kilvanen had pleaded with her, but she had been adamant not only that the Armour should remain where it was, but that Kilvanen should tell no-one of its existence. There was little chance of that. Kilvanen took ill almost as soon as they returned to the capital. He was dead within three weeks.
It was only later, when some of the Eternal’s other detractors died in the same way, that Unwallis realized she had killed the arcanist.
The Armour of Bronze, the great rallying symbol of the Drenai, was back.
Could it be, he wondered, that somehow the Eternal had engineered this also? That she had sought to make Skilgannon just a little more powerful, in order to heighten the risk?
That evening, in her tent, Jianna communed with Memnon. ‘I want to see Olek,’ she told the translucent image of the dark-eyed mage.
‘I can show you him, Highness.’
‘I want him to see me too. Can you help with this from such a distance?’
‘Distance is no object, Highness. Hold the talisman firm in your hand, and lie back. I will guide your spirit to him. He will see you.’
Lying down on her bed, the bronze amulet in her hand, she closed her eyes. A cool breeze whispered across her, and she felt the mildly sickening wrench that always accompanied these flights of the spirit, as if a harsh hand had dragged her from her body. Then she was in the air, her spirit being drawn towards the northeast. She flowed over mountains and plains, and through a winding river canyon. Below her she saw five long barges, their sides painted bright crimson. They were anchored in the lee of a towering cliff face.
‘He is in the lead barge, Highness,’ came the voice of Memnon. ‘He may be sleeping.’
‘Show me,’ she said, feeling a sense of rising excitement.
Her spirit was drawn closer to the boat. There were horses upon it, and sleeping men. At the prow stood Skilgannon, the Swords of Night and Day on his back. He was everything she remembered and a great sadness touched her. He was tall and dark, his eyes brilliant blue, his face handsome. He looked just as he had that last day at the citadel, when they had kissed for the last time. ‘Bring me closer to him, Memnon.’
Slowly her spirit floated over the deck, past the sleeping Drenai. She was now only a few feet from him. He was staring at the rearing cliffs, his eyes distant. Jianna knew that look. He was thinking and planning, examining every possibility that could thwart his mission. ‘Ah, Olek,’ she said. ‘I have missed you.’
‘He did not hear you,’ said the voice of Memnon. ‘I need a moment, Highness, to bring your image to life.’
Jianna waited. Skilgannon suddenly stepped back, his face a mask of astonishment.
‘I have dreamed of this moment for a thousand years,’ she said. ‘But never did I think we would meet as enemies.’ He said nothing, but she saw the surprise replaced by longing, and his expression softened.
‘What is it you want here?’ he said at last.
‘To be friends again, Olek. To talk as we once did.’
For a long moment he said nothing. Then he sighed. ‘Shall we talk of the day you chided that boy you caught pulling wings from a butterfly? Or of your dreams of gathering the finest surgeons and apothecaries to a central university, in order to advance the cause of medicine? Or perhaps the promises you made to make life more prosperous and happy for all the citizens of Naashan?’
‘Why must you always be so argumentative, Olek? You could at least say you are glad to see me.’
‘Aye. It would be true, too,’ he admitted. ‘When you died the sun ceased to shine for me.’
‘Then come to me, Olek. Together we will build that university you spoke of. We will put in place all the plans we ever made.’
‘And you would be Sashan for me again?’ he asked. His soft use of the name they had concocted, when she had masqueraded as a whore to escape capture, lanced into her. It brought back memories so distant they had all but disappeared from her consciousness.
‘I would love that, Olek.’
‘It cannot be,’ he said harshly. ‘Sashan is dead, Jianna. As indeed you and I are dead. We should not be here.’
‘Then you will not come to me?’
‘I intend to end your reign.’
‘You would kill me, Olek?’
‘No,’ he admitted, ‘I could never do that. But I can destroy the Eternal.’
‘You were a great general, Olek. You taught me much. I have a regiment of Eternal Guards on their way to the temple site. And two hundred of our strongest Jiamads. You think this rag-tag group of misfits and dreamers can oppose them? Even with you and Decado? Even with Druss’s axe and the Armour of Bronze? A thousand battle-hardened veterans, Olek. You really want to proceed with this folly? You really want all these boys to die?’
‘I think you should go now,’ he said. ‘There is no more for us to say. I love you. I have always loved you. But you are my enemy now, and I will bring you down.’ He turned away from her then, and gripped the boat rail.
‘I love you too,’ she said.
Memnon’s voice whispered into her mind. ‘Is it finished now, Highness?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ she told him.
The world spun and she gasped as the weight of her body returned. Replacing the bronze amulet in its ornate box she walked from her tent into the moonlight. She sent a sentry to find Agrippon. The officer had obviously not been sleeping for he arrived swiftly.
‘Dig up Agrias,’ she said.
‘Highness?’
‘I have changed my mind. Bring him out.’
‘At once, Highness.’