The Devil's armour

3

For two days and a night Lorn rode north and west, hardly seeing anyone, hiding his face from strangers and always holding Poppy close. In the time since murdering Duke Rihards’ knights, he and his daughter had made excellent progress, stopping only to rest and to eat, and were not bothered by anyone. The weather had cooperated and the roads remained dry, and by the end of the second day Lorn’s fears began to ebb. If Jazana Carr’s mercenaries were looking for him, he had so far given them the slip. But as night fell once again, Lorn’s confidence turned. He had entered the Bleak Territories.

He had come to the northwest portion of Norvor, where Jazana Carr and her diamond mines held sway and where the fortress of Hanging Man stood, guarding Norvor’s border with Liiria. It was a vast territory, choked by mountains and barren valleys, where the rugged land discouraged travellers and people feared their neighbours. As dusk brought darkness, Lorn and his daughter entered this desolate landscape, because there was no turning back for them and because their destination lay on the other side.

‘We are in the bosom of Jazana Carr now,’ said Lorn to his daughter. Poppy was asleep in his arms so did not reply, even if she could have heard him. Lorn slowed his horse and surveyed the territory. In the distance was a range of mountains, toothy and forbidding as the sun sank behind them. The narrow road they were travelling had nearly disappeared, emptying into a scrubby valley. Lorn was exhausted and this seemed as good a place as any to rest, but he could not. Poppy had not had a drop of milk in days. He had given her water, which he had taken from the dead Rolgans, and bits of meat which he had clumsily torn into tiny bits and pressed into her mouth. He even made porridge for her, a mulch of bread and water that looked mildly unpalatable. But he knew it wasn’t fit food for the infant. At nine months, his daughter could manage solid food, but she needed milk, and quickly. Milk was as scarce as anything else in the Bleak Territories, though, and Lorn began to fret. There were farms in the Territories; he had been here before, years ago, and remembered them. But they were few and widely spaced, and finding one would be difficult in the darkness.

Still, Lorn pressed on. As dusk fell and the moon appeared, he continued through the valley, cooing to his daughter as she squirmed awake. Once, she opened her tiny eyes and looked up, and he wished that she could see him. But her eyes were sightless, or at least that was his guess. She had been blind since birth, that’s what her nurse Lariza claimed, and so did not respond when a hand was passed before her face or when someone smiled down at her. She had her mother’s eyes, though, and that pleased Lorn. He had never before been so alone in the world, and remembering Rinka comforted him.

‘She will not find us,’ he promised his daughter. He bounced her gently in the crook of his arm. ‘Jazana Carr won’t look for us here.’

It was a supposition, nothing better. Riding into the Bleak Territories was a great risk, but he supposed Jazana Carr thought him dead, or perhaps still near Carlion. He had told no one of his intention to reach Liiria.

After an hour more he stopped for rest. He gave Poppy some water from his skin, then made his pasty porridge of bread and fed it to her. The girl grimaced, but his persistence eventually won her over and she ate. Lorn looked around as he held her, studying the moonlit frontier. If he could find a farm there would be a goat or a cow that could give milk. Determined, he mounted again and rode deeper into the valley. Because there was no real road, Lorn drove his mount carefully, wary of breaking the beast’s legs in the darkness. The rubble of the Bleak Territories surrounded them, but far ahead the landscape changed, giving way to patches of green and occasional trees. Heartened, Lorn steered toward the waiting prairie. When at last he reached it he gave a grateful sigh. Against the moonlight he could see a house and few other structures, all surrounded by rugged farmland.

‘You see, daughter? Your father never fails you.’

Their gelding quickened a little, sensing Lorn’s excitement. As the distant farmstead drew nearer Lorn studied it. Like the territory itself, the house was shabby and weather-beaten. A stable stood off to its side, dilapidated, and the stone fencing was broken in places. Lorn could see no one in the fields or around the house, but there was light in the windows and he knew the place wasn’t abandoned. He knew, too, that he simply couldn’t ride up to the house and ask for help. This was Jazana Carr’s territory, after all, and Lorn’s paranoia was acute. Instead of going to the house he would go toward the stable, he decided, and steal whatever milk he needed for Poppy.

‘Keep yourself quiet, girl,’ he whispered to his daughter. ‘Let’s not be discovered now that we’re so close.’

Poppy, who was awake again, made no sound as they rode toward the farm, going around the long way so as not to be seen through the house’s dingy windows. The stable itself was dark; Lorn kept to the shadows as best he could, pausing behind trees as he made his stealthy approach. There were chickens in the yard dumbly pecking at the earth. The door to the stable was ajar. Lorn stopped a moment to listen. The clucking of chickens and the wind was all he heard. Very quietly he slid down from his horse with Poppy in his arm, then tied the steed’s reins to the tree. They were well hidden from the house by the long stable, and Lorn didn’t expect to take long.

‘Come,’ he told his daughter. It didn’t matter if she could hear him; he spoke as much to comfort himself. Together they tiptoed past the chickens in the yard, slinking low as they approached the stable. Lorn kept one eye on the house as he pulled the wooden door farther open. The darkness of the stable enveloped him at once. Taking a chance, he left the stable door open a bit to let in light, then scanned the interior. He spied hay, some tack on the wall, and a bank of rickety stalls. But no cows, and no goats. A horse that looked as old as the stable clopped at the ground in the closest stall. The other stalls were filled with oxen.

‘Fate above, I don’t believe this,’ groaned Lorn. Stepping into the stable for a closer look revealed a small stool and some farm tools, but that was all. Immediately he realised that the oxen were for working the fields, and supposed the chickens gave them eggs. They must barter for milk, he thought blackly.

‘Blast them. .’

He looked around, out of answers. There was no way he could go on without getting Poppy proper food. If there was milk in the house, he’d have to get it.

‘A thief,’ he snarled. ‘That’s what I am now. That’s what Jazana Carr has made of me.’

He was armed and a good fighter. If they wouldn’t give him food, he would take it. But he knew he couldn’t take his daughter with him, so he found a corner of the stable that seemed relatively clean, kicked a mound of hay into it to make a bed, and set the infant down. He then wrapped her more tightly in her heavy swaddling clothes, pinning her limbs. Poppy squirmed but seemed comfortable enough. With the oxen in their stalls, he knew she’d be safe for a time.

‘I won’t be long,’ he told her. ‘Just sit tight.’

Now free of Poppy, Lorn could move more stealthily. He slunk down low as he left the stable, then crept along the stone fence as he slowly neared the house. The farmhouse was made of the same smooth rocks as the fence, with few windows and a single, splintering door. Most of the windows had been shuttered closed, but the largest one, the one nearest the door, remained open. As he neared the house, Lorn could see figures through the wavy glass. He kept his head low as he drew closer, until at last he found himself against the wall. Quickly he scanned the yard, grateful there were no dogs to give him away. Finally he snuck a single eye around the window frame and peered inside.

There was a woman. And a cooking fire glowing in the hearth. A kettle steamed over the fire. A young boy sat at a table, waiting for food. Bread and cups sat on the table with a pair of candles. Lorn’s heart thumped in his chest. Was there milk in the cups? he wondered. And what about a man? Where was the woman’s husband? She was a small thing, thin and reedy with dark, tied-back hair. Lorn could barely guess her age. Neither she nor the boy had noticed him, so he boldly moved his other eye to the glass, viewing all of the small room. Now he saw a cradle in the corner, and a baby in the cradle. Boy or girl he couldn’t say, but he could tell the child was nearly Poppy’s age.

And then his dark idea occurred to him.

‘Oh, Fate,’ he whispered. ‘Could I?’

There was nothing to be done for it. He’d come this far already. Killing good men and betraying his people hadn’t stopped him. Why then should this? He’d be as gentle as he could, he decided. At his side he wore his sword. He thought about it a moment, then chose his dagger instead, slipping the blade from its sheath. If there was a man inside the house, he would deal with him. If there was more than one. .

There isn’t, he decided in an instant. And the woman would obey him; she had the children to protect. He straightened, crossed the window without being seen, then went to the door. Without pausing, he knocked loudly. Behind the door he heard a surprised commotion. In his right hand he held his dagger, but let it dangle less threateningly at his side. A hush from inside followed. Lorn knocked again, this time more forcefully.

‘Open the door,’ he boomed. ‘I came upon your farm just now and need help.’

Feet shuffled closer. The iron handle of the door turned and the door opened a crack. The little woman with the dark eyes peered out. Her mouth hung open in concern. Quickly she sized up Lorn, but by the time she saw his dagger he’d wedged his foot into the jamb.

‘No, don’t run,’ said Lorn as the woman jumped back. His free hand sprang up and seized the door. The woman backpedalled into the house.

‘What do you want?’ she demanded. Her boy child sprang from his chair to defend her. A bread knife on the table leaped into her hand. Lorn pushed open the door and stood on the threshold.

‘Now we both have knives,’ he said. ‘But I know how to use mine.’

‘Who are you?’ the woman spat.

So far no one else had appeared. Lorn blessed his good luck. ‘I’m a traveller, not from around here. I came upon your farm and saw your lights.’

‘So?’ The woman’s angry eyes glared at Lorn as she pulled her son by the sleeve to get behind her.

‘Put the knife down,’ said Lorn. ‘You cannot harm me. You are alone here?’

The woman didn’t know how to answer. ‘There are men who work my fields. They’ll be back in a moment.’

The waver in her voice told Lorn she was lying. ‘You’re alone with no one to help you, and what I want of you won’t take much time. Put down the knife. If you do you won’t be harmed. Or the children.’

‘Leave my mother alone!’ shrieked the boy.

Lorn stepped closer. ‘Quiet your son.’

‘Don’t you touch him!’ hissed the woman, brandishing her knife higher.

‘Put it down,’ said Lorn evenly. She saw the resolve in his face and was frightened.

‘Great Fate, leave us,’ she pleaded.

‘I will, soon,’ said Lorn. ‘But I have need of you.’

‘Need of. .?’ The woman blanched. ‘No, please. .’

‘Lower your knife and come to the stable with me. I promise you, you and your children will not be hurt, and when you are done I will be on my way.’

Dread suffused the woman’s face. For a moment she was unable to speak. The knife trembled in her grip. Lorn knew what she was thinking and groaned.

‘Gods, woman, I am no rapist. But I am impatient. Now put down that damned knife and come with me.’

Confused, the woman remained still.

‘For the sake of your children, get yourself out here!’

‘All right,’ the woman moaned. ‘All right. Your promise, though — you’ll leave us unharmed? The children especially?’

Lorn’s patience snapped. He walked up to the woman, grabbed her arm and shook the knife from her grip. ‘I gave my word and that is enough for any woman,’ he snarled. Dragging her toward the door, he turned to the boy and said, ‘Don’t run for help. Don’t say a word. Look after the little one.’

The boy stared, horrified. ‘Mother!’

Lorn slammed the door behind him. Outside, he released the woman and pushed her toward the stable. She shivered in the cold. Clearly she didn’t believe his claims, and expected rape. But she was alone and Lorn had the knife, so she obeyed, walking shakily toward the stable with her hand at her mouth. Lorn kept close behind her, hating himself for the fear on her face.

‘Inside there,’ he said, and opened the stable doors wide for her, leaving them that way to let in the most light. Wary, the woman went inside, her arms wrapped about herself. When they were both within the stable, Lorn told her to stay where she was, then hurried to the corner where he’d left Poppy. The infant was still there. She cooed at his touch as he lifted her.

‘A baby?’ The woman was flabbergasted. ‘Is that yours?’

‘My daughter,’ Lorn explained. ‘She’s why I brought you here. She needs you.’

‘What for?’ asked the woman. She came no closer.

‘She hungers. You have a babe about her age. You can feed her.’

It was a ghastly idea and Lorn knew it. The woman’s mouth dropped.

‘Do not refuse me,’ he warned. ‘I have nowhere else to go, and the child needs milk. I will not let you say no to her.’

‘We have milk inside-’

‘No,’ said Lorn. ‘For two days she’s had nothing but water and bread and old meat. I’ve fed her garbage and now she needs milk. Real milk. Mother’s milk.’

The woman cringed. ‘I cannot. Please don’t make me do this.’

Suddenly Lorn realised how much he had frightened her. ‘My promise is good, woman. I want nothing from you but to feed my child. When that’s done I will be on my way, and you will be none the poorer.’ He held Poppy out to her. ‘Please.’

‘And if I don’t?’ said the woman. Lorn stared hard at her, and she knew the truth. ‘If I don’t you will harm me. Or my children.’ She snorted. ‘Beast.’

‘You see me clearly,’ said Lorn. ‘So then, if you won’t do it for my child, do it for your own.’ He gestured to the stool he had seen earlier. ‘There. Sit. I will look away if you wish.’

There was little the woman could do. For a moment she considered her dismal options, but in the end she went to the stool as Lorn knew she would. She was driven by the same instinct as he — to save her children. When at last she sat down she held out her arms.

‘Give the child to me. You stay here with me while she feeds. I don’t want you anywhere near my children.’

Lorn agreed and gave Poppy over to her. Amazingly, her anger slackened when she held the baby. She studied Poppy’s face, shaking her head. ‘You have this child out on a night so chill. You’re a very stupid man.’

‘And you are a very brave woman to speak so to me. Just feed the girl and keep quiet.’

‘Look away then, brute, and let me do this thing.’

Angered by her insults, Lorn nevertheless turned to look outside the stable doors while the woman set to work. He listened to the soft noise of her unbuttoning, then her uncomfortable groans as Poppy latched on. It embarrassed him to be here like this, and he remembered with pain that he had been a king two days ago. Now he was lost in the Bleak Territories, forcing a woman in a stable to feed his daughter, the only family left to him. The sounds of Poppy suckling comforted him a little, though, and he took a breath to steel his resolve. Soon they would be out of Norvor. Then it was on to Liiria, where he could hide. In the chaos of that former kingdom, he knew Jazana Carr would never find him.

‘Your daughter is hungry,’ said the woman. There was mildness in her voice. ‘She’s a good baby. A gentle feeder.’

Lorn grimaced. No one had told him that before, and he wasn’t sure what it meant. ‘She has great need of you, no doubt.’

‘She is quiet,’ said the woman. ‘And her expression is strange.’ She paused, then said, ‘Can this child see?’

It was the question Lorn had dreaded. ‘I don’t know yet,’ he confessed. ‘She is deaf, that I know already. She can see shadows, I think. But she can eat, and that’s all that should concern you.’

‘Where is her mother?’

‘Dead.’

Another pause. ‘A cruel world, especially for a child born like this one. I am sorry for her.’

‘Do not be sorry.’

‘I’m sorry that the girl has a brute for a father and no mother to learn from. I suppose she should be grateful you haven’t killed her yet.’

Lorn suppressed his anger. ‘What is your name, woman?’

She surprised him by answering quickly. ‘Gedena. What is yours?’

‘I won’t be telling you, so don’t ask again. Where is your husband? A woman with children shouldn’t be alone in these parts.’

‘No,’ chuckled the woman acidly. ‘You would know about that, wouldn’t you?’

This time Lorn turned around just as she was switching breasts. The sight of her exposed bosom quelled his anger. She looked up at him. He stared. Seeing her softened him at once. She was beautiful in a way, because she was feeding his child and because he missed Rinka so much. The woman named Gedena hefted Poppy higher to cover herself.

‘Look away,’ she said.

Reluctantly, Lorn did so. ‘I am right, though,’ he said. ‘A woman should not be left alone. Your husband does you no good leaving you to yourself.’

‘You see this place? What kind of palace do you think it is? My husband has gone to earn money for us. He’s gone to fight with Jazana Carr’s army.’

‘What?’ It took a great effort for Lorn not to turn around again. ‘He’s left you to fight with that witch?’

The woman guffawed. ‘You are a southerner. I can hear your accent. Jazana Carr pays good gold and diamonds for men who will fight. It’s more than the king has done for us. Your king, southerner.’

Lorn bristled at the words. He was hated; he’d always known that. But word of his fall had yet to reach Gedena, it seemed. ‘Then your husband is a turncoat. He is not a man at all if he would fight for Jazana Carr.’

‘Enough!’ said Gedena. ‘I’ll not sit here and listen to you castigate my man, not while I feed your daughter milk meant for my own son!’ She rose. Lorn turned around and saw her bitter face. ‘If King Lorn is so just, why do you run north? Your king is a tyrant and a fool. Jazana Carr offers us freedom.’

‘She will enslave you with her diamonds,’ said Lorn. He took Poppy, now sated, from the woman. ‘She will change Norvor, and you will not like it when she does.’

Gedena began buttoning up her shirt. ‘What would a man know of change? You come to my home and order me to feed your child. Because I am a woman I have no choice. You threaten my children and I have no choice. I yield to you because I must. But it will not be so when Jazana Carr triumphs. And when King Lorn hangs, I will celebrate.’

Stung, Lorn looked at Poppy, then back at Gedena. The woman had done him a remarkable favour, but only for the sake of the girl. He wondered how willing she’d have been to feed a boy child.

‘Jazana Carr has poisoned your mind,’ he told her. ‘She will bring chaos to Norvor. Mark my words — you will miss King Lorn someday.’

‘I will not,’ said Gedena, ‘any more than I would miss a wart.’ She had dressed herself and now stood up tall, summoning her dignity. Obviously she was waiting for Lorn to leave. He dug into his pocket and fished out a silver coin, one of a handful he had stolen off the Rolgans. Gedena glowered when he held it out for her.

‘I am not a whore,’ she said. ‘What I did I did for the sake of the child.’

‘You have done me a service,’ Lorn said. ‘Take it, and if you have some milk I could take with me I would be glad for it. For the child, you see. We still have a long ride ahead of us.’

‘Now you would take goat milk? After I offered it to you before?’

‘Unless there are more willing teats on the road to Liiria, my daughter will starve without it. And I won’t take it; I will pay for it.’

‘Liiria?’ Gedena raised her eyebrows. ‘Why would you take the child there? I thought you wanted to escape war. You won’t find peace in Liiria.’

Again Lorn went into his pocket and came out with another coin. ‘This one is to keep your tongue from wagging. My business in Liiria is my own. Now, will you fetch us what we need?’

Gedena frowned, still unwilling to help.

‘Have I not kept my promise to you, woman? You and your children are unharmed. My daughter is fed and I can be on my way now. What I’ve paid you is more than you deserve, but you’ve shamed me into it. The milk would be fair recompense.’

Reluctantly, Gedena nodded. ‘All right, but you bring that child to her doom, you know. Perhaps you don’t know this, being from the south — Liiria is at war with itself. There’s no safety there for you. If you’re a deserter-’

‘I am not a deserter, madam,’ said Lorn stiffly.

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Perhaps not. But if you’re trying to make a better life for that girl, you should stay here in the north. There will be peace soon. Jazana Carr has promised it. The war is almost over.’

More so than you think, thought Lorn. He said, ‘I cannot stay in Norvor. Now ask me no more questions.’

Gedena nodded and went to the open doors. Immediately she wrapped her arms around herself again. ‘It’s a cold night.’ She turned and frowned at Poppy. ‘Too cold for you to be riding with that child. Fate above, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you should stay here until morning. Give that child some rest.’

The offer stunned Lorn. ‘You’re asking me to sleep here?’

‘Unless you’re willing to leave the child. .’

‘No,’ said Lorn.

Gedena smirked. ‘I didn’t think so. You can spend the night out here. I have blankets and a lamp for you. But let me bring the baby inside. She’ll be better off for it.’

‘I can look after my daughter well enough, thank you.’

‘No, you cannot. You had no milk or proper food for the child, and now you want to ride off with her in the darkness. Why are men such fools? Give me the child.’ She held out her hands. Lorn’s expression soured. She said, ‘Come, hand her here. In the morning you can take her back. Ride off to whatever god-cursed country you want, I won’t be able to stop you. But at least for tonight let the girl have some comfort.’

It was all logical, and Lorn was too tired to argue. ‘Very well,’ he relented, and handed the child to Gedena. ‘What is it about women?’ he muttered. ‘You suckle a babe once and you act like it’s your own.’

‘We’re all mad, don’t you know that? Isn’t that what you southerners say?’

‘Not just southerners, madam.’

Gedena adjusted the swaddling around Poppy. ‘Will you at least tell me the child’s name?’

Lorn shook his head. ‘No. Take care of my daughter. See that she gets a good night’s sleep.’

‘I’ll bring in those blankets and lamp,’ replied Gedena. She paused a moment to frown at Lorn. ‘You are wrong about my husband, you know. He is a good man. Not like you.’

‘Then you’ll be glad to be rid of me,’ said Lorn. ‘Just remember what I said — keep my daughter safe.’

Gedena turned without answering him and went back to her house. Lorn watched her the entire time, until she disappeared inside. He supposed he had done the right thing, but he still wasn’t certain. Poppy needed a warm place to sleep, that much was true. And this place seemed safe enough. He went back into the stable and laid himself down on the hay. He was wretchedly tired, and when he remembered his horse left outside he cursed.

‘Oh, damn it. .’

He decided to rest just a moment before bringing the beast inside. Exhaustion quickly overtook him, though, and he was asleep before Gedena returned with the blankets.