The Sword Of Angels

17

Mirage picked her way through the narrow lane, marvelling at the diminutive, pastel-coloured homes. Sunlight streamed in between the closely spaced buildings, brightening the avenue, while street vendors sold treats and admired the pretty lady who had come to visit. Overhead, the sky glowed a perfect blue. Birds walked the wooden gutters, warbling their morning songs. Along the lane children kicked stones as they played beneath the shade of shingled roofs, their mothers and fathers busy with work. The doors to the tiny homes sported plaques with Reecian names, all of them small and jammed together in the winding avenue. Enchanted by the storybook setting, Mirage wandered unafraid past the homes and the men and women tending them. She had been told by Laurella that it was called the Rainbow Lane, a source of pride among the people of Hes. With its tiny, colourful homes and charming iron lamp posts, it gave the city its name — Hes the Serene.

Mirage walked alone through the Rainbow Lane. She had been in the castle for almost a week, and though Raxor had given her complete freedom — provided she stayed within the complex walls — she had not yet ventured outside.

Until today.

Today, she had no chaperone and no curfew of any kind. She had awoken early to one of Laurella’s fine breakfasts, and the bright rising sun through her chamber windows told her that today she should free herself of the castle and explore the city that Raxor so adored. Her decision to finally venture outside had pleased Laurella, for the old maid had urged her for days to explore the city, highly recommending a walk down the Rainbow Lane. It was where Laurella had been born, the old woman had explained, and where she still had cousins who were cobblers. Mirage noticed a man with tacks in his mouth, cursing under his breath as he worked outside, mending shoes. She passed the man with a smile, wondering if he were Laurella’s kin. The smile made the grizzled man’s eyebrows shoot up in pleasure. He stopped his hammering just long enough to return the pretty girl’s grin.

The castle complex was not what Mirage had expected. In all her time with Lukien, who had spent years battling Raxor and the Reecians, the knight had never once commented on the city’s splendour. Hes had charmed Mirage at once, and the vast complex of Castle Hes was like a great and fabulous maze to explore, with alluring homes for the armies of servants and countless courtyards surrounded by manicured gardens. The tower of a cathedral rose up in the distance, its copper roof showering sunlight across the pastel homes. Nearby, a belvedere with marble columns stood like an ancient titan, its grounds criss-crossed with perfectly angled sidewalks. Mirage stopped to admire the structure, noticing a fountain gurgling in its yard. She left the narrow lane and moved toward the belvedere, staring up at the magnificent structure and counting its many arches. There were pines around the fountain, dwarfs of their giant siblings, and lovers sitting on the grass, listening to the fountains ringing music. Mirage went to the fountain and dipped her hand into the cool water. She watched in awe as spouts of water jetted up to strike the bowls of brass, each one singing a different note. Here she was away from the crowds, invited by the fountain and flower beds to relax and think.

Choosing a patch of comfortable grass, Mirage laid herself down in the sunlight. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she closed her eyes and let the warmth caress her face. The last week had passed in a blur, and now she took the time to catch her breath. From Asher’s ghastly prison, she had been delivered into the hands of a demented, kindly king, who could not do enough to please her but could not bring himself to free her. Mirage had seen very little of Raxor since their first meeting. He had come to her twice since then, only to see to her needs, and he had not touched her the way she had feared or ordered her to his bed. That surprised Mirage. She was his woman now. Yet she still didn’t know what that meant.

Kirsil, what am I doing? she asked silently. I should run from him.

Her unseen Akari blossomed in her mind. Like her host, Kirsil was calm now, much better than she had been during those days in Asher’s prison. Kirsil’s voice appeared like a brook through her mind, gently lapping at the shores of her thoughts.

If you go past the wall, he will find you, Kirsil warned.

How do we know that? He trusts me, Kirsil. He is so damned faithful.

He loves you, the spirit tittered.

Mirage frowned. It’s not funny. We are prisoners.

Raxor says otherwise. In time he will trust you too much, and then you can simply leave him.

She wasn’t sure why, but the prospect of leaving Raxor troubled Mirage. In his day, Raxor had been a brutal war hero, and Mirage had not forgotten the things Lukien had said about him. In battle he had been a beast, mercilessly taking heads with his axe, but he had also been a fair man, Mirage remembered, and now she could see that in him, struggling.

He means me no harm, said Mirage. She opened her eyes and looked across the lanes toward the castle tower where he and his family resided. It was her home now, too. ‘He’s just old and lonely,’ she whispered.

Kirsil’s tremor of displeasure told Mirage the spirit did not agree. No more joking, now. You were right — you should leave. But be smart about it. Wait until you are sure.

‘Yes,’ Mirage agreed. ‘When I’m sure. .’

Mirage settled into the grass for a spell, pushing aside her concerns. It was a glorious day and she was free, at least partially, to walk where she wanted and explore the fair city. She rested near the fountain for a leisurely time, then stood and brushed the grass from her backside, looking around. Now that morning was well underway the avenues began to fill with people. Again noticing the awesome tower of the cathedral peaking up above the tiled roofs, she chose her direction, using the tower as a landmark. Supposing the cathedral looked deceptively close, she did not fully intend to reach it, but rather to use it as a guide by which to navigate. On her way back she would use the castle itself, and if she happened to wander past the wall of the castle complex. .

What would happen to her, she wondered? She looked furtively over her shoulder, wondering if Raxor had sent unseen chaperones with her, but all she saw were workmen and children in the streets and lovers too occupied to pay her much attention. Satisfied, she went back to the lane with the tiny houses and made her way south, until the lane widened and the pastel homes gave way to grand buildings of stone and darkly painted wood. Here the avenue curved into a circle hidden with tall, official looking structures and crowds of people and animals, all shuffling through the street with carts of wool, fruit and timber. Mirage avoided the crowd, picking her way to the other side of the street where a sidewalk guided her further toward the cathedral’s tower, still visible over the crenulated tops of the buildings. On a corner she paused to get her bearings, then heard a noise in the distance. Like cheering, or the roar of a river, the sound leapt over the buildings and into the street. Curious, Mirage followed the noise. Rounding the corner, she came suddenly to a flat, gigantic parade ground. And on the ground were horsemen — hundreds of them — drilling on their proud mounts to the precise music of trumpeters. Under the shadow of the lofty cathedral, the field waved with flags and shook with pageantry, burdened with rows of carts piled high with supplies and stable boys shoeing horses, ordered about by men in armour and elegant uniforms. Among the teams of horses marched throngs of foot soldiers, while others practiced with pikes or fenced with swords under the critical gaze of officers. Not knowing what she had stumbled upon, Mirage scooted back around the corner, peering out her head for a better view. Pleased that none of the Reecian soldiers had noticed her, she watched in awe as they drilled, preparing for some unknown war.

‘Kirsil, do you see?’ she whispered.

Her Akari replied with alarm. What is this?

‘I don’t know. .’

Mirage tried counting up the troops. There were at least five hundred of them, most on horseback but all similarly garbed in the armour of Reecian fighting men. Like the ones she had seen when she’d crossed the border into Reec, the soldiers seemed to be making ready.

But for what? asked Kirsil, reading her thoughts. Is Reec in trouble?

Mirage thought for a moment, wondering about the warning Raxor had given her. He had said that Baron Glass was plotting against Reec; he’d been so sure of it. Unable to see clearly, Mirage stepped out from behind the corner, sure that she was in no danger from the troops. She was Raxor’s woman, after all. The parade ground enthralled her, its soldiers beautiful. Their frenzied noise filled the field. Sunlight from the blue sky played off their shining, armoured bodies and polished weapons. Galloping past her came a team of thundering horsemen, their heads bowed as they circled the enormous field. Mirage stepped back from the field as the horses blew by, awestruck by their power. At the head of the team rode a man in silver armour with a crimson plume sprouting from his helmet. A sword slapped against his leggings. He had led his team past Mirage and for a moment kept on riding, but fifty yards later he reined his horse to an abrupt halt, wheeling about to face her. The dozen horsemen he led fell into place behind him, but the man — his face hidden behind his helmet — ordered them to go. His metal face leered at Mirage. Then, he snapped the reins of his chestnut steed and stalked toward her.

Mirage pressed herself against the corner. She thought of running but couldn’t make her feet obey. Instead she watched as the grand horseman trotted closer, coming to a stop a few feet away. Atop his snorting beast he towered over Mirage, looking down on her through the eyeslits in his metal mask. Gripping his reins, he leaned back comfortably, nodding.

‘You’re the one,’ he said. The young voice echoed beneath his helmet. Finally he raised a gauntlet to lift his faceplate, revealing his sharp nose and piercing green eyes. A red goatee covered his chin, partially hidden by a veil of chainmail. ‘You’re my father’s new plaything.’

The accusation stunned Mirage. ‘I am no one’s toy, sir,’ she spat at the knight, but she already knew the man’s name. So far she had avoided meeting Raxor’s children, the two daughters and one grown son who lived in Castle Hes. According to Laurella they were a selfish lot, accustomed to taking from their father and giving little back. The knight laughed at Mirage’s tartness.

‘I recognize you,’ he said. ‘I have seen you at the castle. My father spoke of you to me when you came.’

‘You’re Roland,’ said Mirage, not backing down. ‘I see you do not have your father’s manners.’

‘Or his luck with women,’ laughed the knight. ‘To have such a pretty young thing to share his bed with! I do envy my father sometimes.’

Roland the Red was a major in Reec’s army, an accomplished cavalryman with a streak of arrogance that made his men dislike him. Mirage only knew what Laurella had told her about Roland.

‘Is that why you came? To accuse me? I should think a prince would know better how to introduce himself.’

‘You are fiery,’ said Roland. ‘And you do look like my mother.’ He waved his gauntlet at her. ‘Step out. Let me look at you.’

‘Shall I open my mouth for you, too? Let you check my teeth? I’m not a horse for you to inspect.’

‘No,’ said Roland, his smile greasy. ‘You’re hardly a horse. But my father has bridled you.’

‘I’m his prisoner,’ Mirage shot back. ‘I don’t wish to be here at all.’

Roland spun his horse to the other side, keeping it expertly in check. ‘I know that,’ he said. ‘And believe it or not I am sorry for you. In case you haven’t figured it out yet my father is demented. He mourns for my mother like a little boy.’

‘He loved her,’ said Mirage, unsure why she was defending Raxor. ‘And if you loved your father you would not speak of him so.’

‘I loved the man he used to be,’ said Roland, ‘the man Corvalos Chane thinks you can make him again. Oh, yes, we’ve all heard the story! I admit you could have been my mother’s twin, but you can’t replace her, woman, and you can’t make a sick old man whole again.’

‘I don’t intend to,’ said Mirage icily. ‘As soon as your father realizes that, he will send me on my way.’

‘He won’t,’ laughed Roland. ‘You are here to stay. You should know that. Don’t make yourself mad with thoughts of escaping. My father is already obsessed with you. He will never let you go.’

Mirage cursed herself for blundering into this argument. ‘What is all this?’ she asked, hoping to change the subject. ‘You’re preparing for war?’

‘Indeed, pretty lady, for war is upon us! Your man, the Black Baron — he has forced us to the march. I’m leading these men to the Liirian border, along the Kryss river. We leave in a few days.’

‘Baron Glass has attacked?’

Roland shook his armoured head. ‘Not yet, no. But he will, and when he does we will be ready for him.’ With his icy eyes, Roland glared at Mirage. ‘You haven’t told my father anything about Glass yet, have you?’

‘But you have secrets. Asher has said so, and he is never wrong about such things.’ Roland sighed, sounding almost pitying. ‘You should tell the truth, woman, and spare yourself the agony. I tell you the truth when I say Asher isn’t done with you.’

‘I speak to your father, and what I tell him is between he and I,’ said Mirage. ‘I am not afraid of Asher. And you are wrong about Baron Glass — he has no interest in Reec. I’ve already said that a hundred times.’

‘Ah, and do you speak for the Diamond Queen as well, lady? That insatiable bitch?’ Roland waited for Mirage to answer. ‘Eh?’

‘No,’ Mirage admitted.

‘No. So please, do not pretend to know the threats we face. We have burdens enough.’ Roland hoisted a thumb over his shoulder toward the parade ground. ‘These men are riding into battle, but the battle cannot come until my father joins it. They won’t follow me, not without the king. So you see? You have a difficult task.’

Mirage was puzzled by him. ‘What task?’

‘Take care of my father. Will you do that? No one else can make a man of him again.’

‘I am no whore, Sir!’

Roland held up his hands. ‘And I am not calling you one. I’m just saying the obvious. You’re a beautiful woman and you were brought here to service him. If you haven’t figured that out yet. .’

‘You’re a disgusting troll,’ sneered Mirage. ‘I’m not a prostitute your father hired out of the gutter, and I’m not surprised these men won’t follow you. Better to follow a crazy old man than an arrogant young bastard.’

Roland smiled at her from his high perch. ‘Good luck to you, Mirage. For the sake of Reec I hope you are happy with my father. You have no choice but to stay with him. The sooner you understand that the better your time here will be.’

He didn’t wait for her to reply. Roland the Red simply spun his horse away and rode off toward his waiting cavalry, leaving Mirage stunned and speechless. With just a few words he had shredded her meagre peace. The bright day felt suddenly cold, and all she wanted was to run back to Castle Hes and lock herself in her chambers. Turning slowly from the field, she went back around the corner and started walking the long way home. But before she took even five steps a figure startled her.

‘You’ve met Roland.’

Mirage jumped at the sound of the voice. Blocking the sidewalk stood Corvalos Chane, tall and lean in his leather armour, his arms folded over his chest. The sight of him made Mirage instantly angry.

‘You’ve been following me!’ she railed, emotion flooding her voice. ‘How long?’

‘All day.’

She felt like a fool, doubly so now. She shook her head and thought she might cry from frustration. ‘I thought he trusted me.’

‘He does. I don’t,’ said Chane. He stepped closer, putting his long hand on her shoulder and leading her away from the parade ground. ‘You shouldn’t have come here,’ he told her.

‘Then you should have stopped me!’

Chane hurried her away so that none of the soldiers could see her. When they were safely hidden from the field by the stone wall of a soaring building, Corvalos Chane faced her with a scowl.

‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘But Laurella warned you about Roland. He is a whelp, and not accustomed to holding his tongue. Don’t take his words to heart. I’m the one his father trusts, not him.’

‘He’s going to the border,’ said Mirage. ‘He’s going to war.’

‘Aye, to be with the others. But he’ll do nothing until his father joins him.’

‘Joins him? You mean Raxor is going too?’

‘In time,’ said Chane. ‘But not now, not until he is ready. You must make him ready, Mirage. The men will not follow Roland. He is too ambitious and they know it. They’ll follow only Raxor, because he was great once and because they love him. Especially the officers. Roland knows this.’

‘I don’t know what to think,’ Mirage lamented. ‘The way Roland spoke of his father — does he hate the man or love him?’

‘He is jealous of him, I think. Even Roland knows what a great man his father once was.’

‘And I must make him great again,’ sighed Mirage. ‘You’re all mad.’

‘Just give him confidence,’ said Chane. ‘Let him feel like a man again. Once he does, he will ride to the border to defend us.’

Mirage laughed at the order. ‘That’s all? Just make a man out of him? Fate above, listen to yourself.’ She began walking away. ‘I’ll tell you what I told Roland, Corvalos Chane — I may be a prisoner, but I am no whore. Now, take me back to the castle.’

With Chane hurrying after her, Mirage began walking the long way back. In her mind she heard Roland’s hateful words again and again, taunting her. She was not a slave or a harlot, and they would never make her one. But she pitied Raxor and worried about what he was to do, for there was no way the old man could ever stand against Thorin Glass in battle. With his Devil’s Armour, Thorin would tear Raxor to shreds.

And for that she was truly, deeply sorry.

*

Late the next afternoon, Corvalos Chane surprised Mirage again.

She had spent the morning and the whole day before alone in her chambers, miserable over the things Roland had said to her and unwilling to rekindle her curiosity about the city. Laurella had spent some time with her, mostly ranting about Roland, and then had sent the young maids Sela and Meleni to cheer her up. With their effervescent smiles, the girls managed to pull Mirage from the worst of her doldrums, but like Laurella they could not convince her to ignore Raxor’s son or the cruel things he had said to her. Mirage told the maids about what she had seen on the parade ground. When she did, Laurella simply nodded as if she already knew.

‘It’s why you’re here,’ the old woman had said gently.

But Laurella did not try to make her see the logic in her imprisonment the way Corvalos Chane had, and she did not condone what her beloved king had done to her. Laurella was becoming a friend, and Mirage cherished her counsel. She brought Mirage her meals, told her the idle gossip around the castle, and generally comforted her when she was morose, cheering her with simple talk about her family and what it was like to get old. It was strange for Mirage to be growing so attached to the maids, because she was a royal woman now in the eyes of the castle and she had noticed how the others of rank within the castle treated the servants. To Roland and his siblings, Laurella and her ilk were far less than equals. As she spoke to the maids, Mirage remembered her childhood with her parents, and how they had once been wealthy.

Before the fire.

By late afternoon the next day, however, Mirage had tired of talking and wanted only to be alone. She sat in a hard wooden chair near the window, looking out over the city and wondering if Roland the Red had left yet for Liiria. From her place in the tower Mirage could not see the parade ground or the steeple of the grand cathedral, but she could see the border of Hes and the rolling hills of farmland beyond. She smiled mournfully at the pretty sight. Would she ever go into the hills again, or ride through forests the way she had with Lukien? Would she ever see Lukien again.

‘No,’ she muttered. Roland’s words came back to haunt her. ‘I’m here forever.’

As she stared out the window, she hardly noticed the shadow creep into the room over her shoulder. Thinking it was Laurella, she did not turn around.

‘Yes?’ she asked, staring out the window. When Laurella didn’t answer, Mirage turned to see Corvalos Chane standing in the room. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked sourly.

Chane wore his usual expression, both arrogant and inscrutable. It amazed Mirage that she had not heard his heavy boots against the floor. He had shaved the stubble from his rugged face, looking almost handsome in the sunlight through the window.

‘The king has sent me to collect you,’ he said.

‘To collect. .? No, not today,’ said Mirage.

Chane laughed. ‘You’re mistaken if you think you have a choice. The king has summoned you, girl.’

‘Summoned me where?’

‘I cannot say,’ Chane replied. ‘It is to be a surprise.’

The statement puzzled Mirage. She got out of her chair, looking past Chane toward the adjacent room. There she saw Laurella, waiting dutifully and quietly. She had obviously been unable to stop the intrusion.

‘If Raxor wishes to see me why didn’t he come himself? Why did he send you?’ Mirage scowled at the man. ‘Why are you always popping up?’

Chane shifted. ‘Because I’m supposed to protect you,’ he sighed. ‘The king has ordered it, and so I am here. Now please, will you come?’

‘Protect me?’ Mirage found the notion delicious. ‘From what?’

‘From anything. From a hangnail. Enough questions, girl. Now come along!’

She loved getting under Chane’s skin, and was finding it easier all the time. He didn’t like being her chaperone, she could tell.

‘All right,’ she relented. ‘Are we going outside? If so I’ll need a coat.’

‘Then bring one,’ drawled the spy. ‘There’s a carriage waiting for you.’

Inside the splendid carriage, Mirage watched as the city rolled by through her gilded window. With no one inside the conveyance to accompany her, Mirage had no distractions, and could not even see Corvalos Chane as he led the carriage through the streets on horseback. She had asked the spy why he did not accompany her inside the carriage, but Chane had not answered, not even with a shrug. He had simply helped her into the vehicle, ordered the coachman to follow him, then mounted his tall stallion and led them away. Mirage’s mind raced with possibilities, not all of them pleasant. She feared the worst from Raxor’s surprise, wondering if at last he would demand more from her than just conversation. She had learned that the old war hero had a sweet side, but he was also suffering some kind of depression that made him unpredictable, and fighting him off would not be an option.

What would Chane do if Raxor came at her? What if she screamed for his help? She supposed Chane was too loyal to Raxor to lift a finger to help her, and that sickened her. If she was to be raped, she certainly didn’t want an audience.

The carriage moved slowly through the streets, rocking gently back and forth. At last it came to a stop. Mirage peered expectantly out the window and saw they had parked in front of a large edifice of stone with a pair of rounded wooden doors, already opened wide like a mouth. The street in front of the building seemed empty. The utilitarian building frightened Mirage, who knew at once that it was not a residence at all but more like a concert hall, vast and echoing. She waited for the coachman to open her door. He did so silently, bidding her to step out then taking her hand and guiding her down the carriage’s two steps. She stood gaping at the giant building as Corvalos Chane dismounted. The spy handed the reins of his horse to the young coachman.

‘Remain,’ he ordered the driver, then smiled teasingly at Mirage. ‘Come along, girl. The king is waiting.’

‘What is this place?’ asked Mirage, refusing to walk through the rounded doorway. She noticed now that there were many such doorways, though the rest of them were closed, lining the round fac?ade of the building.

‘A forum,’ said Chane. He shooed her toward the entrance.

‘I’m supposed to be some sort of entertainment?’ Mirage protested.

‘You are so tiresome,’ groaned Chane. ‘Nothing is going to happen to you. Will you believe me for once and just go inside?’

‘Fine, let’s just get this over with,’ said Mirage, walking past him into the doorway, at once entering a dark hall with a low ceiling and a worn out floor of gravel. There was light at the other end of the hall. Mirage could see a vast area there, open to the sky. She was indeed in some huge arena, and didn’t know why. With Chane keeping back a few paces, she walked warily forward.

‘Go on,’ urged Chane.

Mirage continued, finally reaching the end of the hall, stepping out onto the circular field. The sky spread out overhead, dwarfing her. Her breath caught at the sensation, and the noise of her gasp echoed through the arena. Above the walls of the arena she saw endless rows of empty seats. Not a single spectator was there to greet her entrance. Yet she was not alone within the arena. Far off to her right she saw Raxor. He wasn’t alone, either.

‘Fate above,’ Mirage exclaimed. Quickly she looked at Chane for an explanation. The spy smiled in amusement.

‘I’ll wait here,’ he said, then slunk back into the dark recesses of the hall. ‘Go ahead. I told you, you won’t be harmed.’

Mirage could not bring herself to move, for with Raxor were a pair of enormous bears, huge and black, one standing on its hind legs, the other rolling playfully onto its back while Raxor coaxed them both with treats. The king wore no armour, no protection of any kind, just a child-like grin on his face that widened when he saw Mirage. He snapped his fingers, ordering the bears to attention, and at his command both beasts stopped their tricks.

‘We have company!’ sang the king. The beasts turned to regard Mirage, and all she wanted was to run.

‘Oh no. .’

‘Don’t be afraid,’ said Raxor. ‘I know they look frightening but they won’t hurt you.’ He waved her closer. ‘Come over here. I promise, it’s all right.’

‘I’d rather stay here, my lord, if it’s all the same.’

‘No, it isn’t all the same,’ said Raxor. He knelt down between the two bruins, resting his hands on their necks. ‘They want to meet you.’

Madness, thought Mirage. She had suspected it before, but now she was certain.

‘My lord, you should come out of there,’ she suggested. ‘I don’t think it’s safe for you.’

‘Nonsense! They’re like big children.’ To prove his point, Raxor nuzzled the neck of one of the bears, burying his nose in its thick coat. ‘See?’

Speechless, Mirage could only imagine what sickness of the brain had driven the old king to such actions. Though he was a big man and obviously strong, the bears were many times his weight and could easily have killed him.

But they didn’t, and to Mirage they seemed remarkably tame. Even gentle. She inched closer, keeping an eye on the beasts.

‘My lord, is this what you wanted to show me? These two monsters?’

‘Not monsters, Mirage. Friends.’ Raxor stood up between the bears, who opened their mouths and let their tongues loll out. ‘I’ve had these two since they were cubs. They were born right here in this forum.’

‘Here?’ Mirage looked around. ‘It doesn’t seem the place for them.’

‘They have other areas where they spend most of their time. There’s a whole team of men who look after them and the other animals.’

Mirage stopped moving. ‘What other animals?’

‘Birds mostly, from all over the continent. I collect them.’ Raxor patted the bears’ heads. ‘But these two are special. I bring them out here to play when I visit.’

‘Is that what all those things are for?’ asked Mirage, noting the balls and other toys scattered on the ground. ‘For play?’

‘That’s right,’ said the king. From his pocket he produced some treats, giving one to each of his pets. Their big tongues licked them out of his hands. Still a safe distance from the bears, Mirage watched them in awe.

‘What was that you gave them?’

‘Just bread balls. But they’ll eat almost anything. Butter, scraps of fat, fish heads. .’

‘Sounds delightful.’

Raxor smiled brightly at Mirage. ‘I thought you’d like to see them. Aren’t they beautiful?’

‘Yes, my lord, they are,’ Mirage agreed. Slowly she felt herself relax. ‘But why do you have them? I don’t understand.’

‘All the kings of Reec have kept bears, since the founding of Hes. Bears are the symbol of the city. If you look you can see them everywhere in the architecture.’

‘Yes,’ realized Mirage suddenly. ‘Yesterday when I was walking. I did see bears.’

Raxor continued scratching the heads of the beasts, careful not to neglect one for the other. ‘They say a bear was with the first king of Hes when he founded the city. That was almost five hundred years ago, but you can still find bears in the hills around Hes.’

‘And these two live here all year round?’

‘They have to,’ said Raxor. ‘They couldn’t live out in the wild. Look at them! They wouldn’t last a day out there.’

‘They do seem gentle,’ said Mirage. Curious, she went closer, studying the bears who watched her in kind, their dark eyes following her every move. ‘Do they have names?’

‘Broud and Varsha,’ Raxor answered. He patted the slightly larger one. ‘This is Broud, the male. They’re brother and sister.’

‘How old are they?’

‘Almost three years. They won’t get much larger than this.’

Charmed by the beasts, Mirage could not stop herself from going closer. Their furry faces seemed to smile at her. And Raxor looked like a boy between them, innocent and happy, without all the trappings of kingship dragging him down. He even looked younger.

‘Would you like to touch them?’ asked Raxor.

He was giving her a gift, Mirage knew. This whole spectacle was for her benefit.

‘I’m afraid. .’

‘Do not be,’ said the king. ‘I promise you, they won’t harm you. Here, I will prove it to you.’

Kneeling down again near the big male, Raxor put his head beside Broud’s mouth. ‘Open,’ he commanded, and when the bear opened wide its great jaws Raxor placed his neck between them.

‘My lord, stop!’ cried Mirage.

Raxor laughed but did not pull free. ‘You see? I raised these two myself. I’m like their mother!’

‘Just stop, please!’

At last Raxor removed himself from Broud’s mouth. ‘Now it’s your turn.’

‘I’m not sticking my neck in there.’

‘Of course not. Just touch them.’ King Raxor waved her forward. ‘Come easy. Don’t be frightened.’

Mirage reached out her hand but only moved a few inches nearer.

‘Closer than that.’

‘I know,’ said Mirage. ‘I’m coming.’

Finally in range, she let her fingers brush the crown of the Varsha, the female. The sensation thrilled her.

‘It’s so soft, like a blanket!’

Confident the bear wouldn’t harm her, she buried her hand in Varsha’s coat, rubbing hard and eliciting a happy groan from the beast. Varsha’s big brow knitted together in pleasure at Mirage’s touch.

‘You see? Like children,’ said Raxor.

‘My lord, children have tempers. Haven’t they ever harmed you, even in play?’

‘Never. They never could do such a thing.’

‘Let’s see them play, then,’ Mirage suggested. ‘Let’s see some of their tricks.’

King Raxor looked at her lovingly. His expression frightenened her more than the bears did. ‘If that’s what you wish,’ he told her. ‘They’ll perform for you all night.’

‘Just something simple,’ said Mirage.

Just as she was drawn to the bears, she was drawn now to Raxor. The affection in his eyes was startling, and for a moment Mirage forgot that it was not truly for her, but rather for a dead wife. She stood aside while Raxor ordered the bears through tricks, delighted by their antics. Under his careful hand the bears stood up tall, rolled, and made sounds that were almost human, rewarded after each trick by a treat from Raxor’s pocket.

‘You have to give them something for each trick,’ he explained. ‘And you can’t eat sweets around them. Anything sugary drives them mad.’

He lifted his hand high into the air, bringing both bears to their feet. The bears walked in a circle around him. Mirage laughed, enchanted by the beasts, who suddenly seemed more like house cats to her than wild animals. Throughout their performance Broud and Varsha growled playfully, never threatening either of the humans. And they never tired or grew bored, but rather continued to entertain their new guest, showing her every trick they knew. The way Raxor handled them was remarkable. As big as he was, he was like one of the bears, brusque on the outside but calm and gentle within.

For almost an hour Mirage watched the bears play, sometimes involving herself by tossing bread balls into the air or rubbing the beasts’ broad backs. She forgot that she was with a king, her captor, or that Corvalos Chane was somewhere in the shadows, watching her. Finally, when Raxor’s pocket of treats was exhausted, he gave the order for the bears to sit, laying them down on the ground at his feet. The old king beamed, pleased with himself and his pets. And Mirage, exhilarated by the experience, finally felt her breath return.

She looked at Raxor, not knowing what to say. The king smiled awkwardly.

‘Thank you,’ said Mirage. ‘This was so unexpected. But why?’

‘Because Corvalos told me what happened to you yesterday, and the things my son said to you. I am sorry for that, Mirage. Roland has always talked too much.’

‘I have thought about this,’ said Mirage. ‘It was I who wandered off and uncovered his secret. Some of the things he said to me. . well, they don’t really matter. It’s his army that concerns me.’

‘Roland has much on his mind,’ said Raxor. ‘If he offended you I’m sorry. He speaks without thinking.’

Mirage didn’t care about Roland, and no longer wanted to talk about him. ‘But the army, my lord — they’re making ready to march for the border. And you’re going to join them.’

‘Yes,’ said Raxor, looking away from her. He knelt down beside Varsha to scratch her ear. ‘Things have been happening in Liiria, things no one has told you. Baron Glass has crowned himself king. My people in Koth have told me so. A week ago, he called his troops around him in Chancellory Square. He declared himself Liiria’s ruler. All of Jazana Carr’s lieutenants were there. He called them from Norvor to witness his declaration.’

‘All right,’ said Mirage. ‘But that doesn’t mean there’s war coming. Thorin doesn’t want war, my lord. He only wants Liiria.’

‘I wish that were true,’ said the old king. His rheumy eyes looked up from his quiet pets. ‘The word from Koth says otherwise, Mirage. My people tell me that Baron Glass has become paranoid, that he worries about all the enemies he’s made. He’s seen my armies on his border and he thinks we mean to invade.’

‘Then you should pull them back, my lord.’

‘And leave the border unprotected? You’re asking me to trust the Black Baron, and I can’t do that.’

‘But you’re provoking him,’ said Mirage. Trying not to reveal too much, she added, ‘Thorin only wants Liiria, but if you chase him into a corner he’ll be like one of these bears. You have to treat him prudently, my lord.’

Her candour intrigued Raxor, who grinned at her. ‘You have so many secrets.’

Mirage tread carefully. ‘I just know him, that’s all.’

‘No, Mirage, you know so much more than that. But you may keep your secrets. I told you already — I won’t harm you. When you are ready you will tell me what you know about the Black Baron.’

But it may be too late by then, thought Mirage. She asked, ‘When will you leave, my lord?’

‘In a week perhaps. Let Roland command the men for a time. They don’t need me yet, and I don’t want to provoke Glass more than I must. If he learns that I have come to be with my troops, he will either talk to me or fight me. I hope he chooses talk.’

‘Talk,’ said Mirage, ‘Yes.’ But she knew Thorin would not talk to Raxor, any more than he had talked to Lukien when the knight had tried to stop him. ‘My lord. .’

Raxor glanced up at her. ‘Yes?’

Mirage hesitated. ‘You must be careful. This armour Thorin wears. .’ She stopped herself, not knowing if she should continue. ‘Please don’t ask me to explain it all. There are things I can’t reveal to you, not ever.’

The old king rose and stood before her. ‘Your secrets are safe. But please, tell me what you must.’

Not wanting to betray Grimhold, Mirage kept her words particular. ‘The Devil’s Armour is everything you’ve heard it is,’ she whispered. ‘It cannot be destroyed, and while Thorin wears the armour he cannot be defeated. Please, King Raxor, don’t ride into this battle.’

Raxor reached out and traced his finger along her cheek. ‘I don’t seek battle, Mirage. I will talk with Baron Glass first.’

‘He won’t listen to you,’ said Mirage. ‘What your men have told you about him is the truth — he is suspicious. He fears anything that might take Liiria away from him. The Devil’s Armour has possessed him.’

‘Possessed? What do you mean?’

Mirage shook her head. ‘I can’t explain to you. It’s magic, just like you were told. It’s a powerful magic and it has corrupted Baron Glass. It has maddened him, my lord, and he will not listen to your reason.’

‘Then what shall I do? Be a coward? I cannot let him come to Reec to spread Jazana Carr’s empire. No. No matter what weapon he wields against us, we will confront him. That is the way it must be, Mirage.’

There was no arguing with the old king. Mirage saw his logic immediately. But in her mind she also saw his broken body, savaged by Thorin and his armour, and the image brought a surprising tear to her eyes.

‘I know,’ she said, nodding quickly. ‘I know. Just. . be careful.’

King Raxor puffed out his broad chest. ‘Ah, have confidence in me, girl. Ask Corvalos to tell you some stories about me. I was a great solider in my day, more than a match for Thorin Glass.’

‘Yes,’ Mirage agreed, collected herself. ‘I’ve heard. And I don’t think you’re too old, and I don’t think you’re crazy, my lord. I think you’re just a kind and lonely man.’

‘And strong,’ said Raxor. ‘Don’t forget that one.’

Mirage smiled. ‘Yes, strong,’ she told him.

But in her heart she knew she was lying, and that he had no chance at all against Thorin.