The Sword Of Angels

61

The moment Gilwyn awoke, he knew the bed was unfamiliar. The heaviness in his head began to lift. His eyes opened slowly. In his chest he felt the grip of panic, but the chains of his own lethargy kept him pinned to the downy pillow. As his blurred vision focused, he saw the ceiling, dark and tiled with ornate metal. Wood and velvet covered the walls. A window on the other side of the room revealed the blackness of night, draped with open, scarlet curtains. Gilwyn took a breath and held it, his eyes darting around the chamber. Very slowly his memory returned. He remembered the gate rising and the figure coming from the shadows.

Thorin!

Ruana’s gentle touch was on him instantly. She whispered into his troubled mind. You are safe, Gilwyn. Don’t be afraid. And then she told him, He is with you.

The room was dark but for small candle burning on a distant table. Gilwyn’s eyes went to it, then saw a figure seated near it, its two big hands clutching the arms of a high-backed chair. The face met his, the red eyes softened, and the grimacing smile animated the mask, bringing the visage to life. Gilwyn stared, mesmerized, his heart galloping. A gleaming hand of living metal rose to gesture.

‘You’re awake, my boy?’

It was Thorin’s voice, and yet it was not. Gilwyn broke down when he heard it.

‘Gods above,’ he moaned. ‘What’s happened to you, Thorin?’

Thorin Glass rose from his chair and took two big strides to Gilwyn’s bedside. His face was wraith-like, shadowed by the night and lit by his two burning eyes. His brows lifted in concern.

‘You have slept long,’ he said. ‘How do you feel?’

Gilwyn stared at him in dread. ‘Where am I?’

‘You are in Lionkeep. You came here, remember? You fainted.’

‘Yes,’ groaned Gilwyn, ‘I remember.’ He licked his dried lips, still in disbelief. ‘Thorin?’

‘It is me, Gilwyn,’ assured Thorin. ‘Do not be afraid of me. I beg you, please.’

Behind the crimson eyes, Gilwyn saw a spark of love, a tiny of hint of Thorin’s humanity locked behind the madman’s mask. He recognized it unmistakably. Wearied, he could not help the tears from falling.

‘It is you,’ he choked. He looked away and brought up his hands. ‘I didn’t believe it. They told me but I didn’t believe.’

‘Don’t look away from me, Gilwyn, please.’

‘But I see madness in you!’ Gilwyn cried. ‘Oh, Thorin, what’s happened?’

Thorin knelt beside the bed. ‘You have come to save me. My appearance is too much for you. I know I have changed. But I am Thorin, my boy, and it gladdens my heart so much to see you that I could weep.’

Gilwyn struggled to control his sobs. The thousand challenges of his long journey caught up to him at last. He felt like a little boy suddenly, lying sick in some huge bed. And Thorin, like a father he’d never known, gazed down at him helplessly. Gilwyn forced himself to look at Thorin, studying his twisted features. The Devil’s Armour had poisoned him.

‘It has maddened you, Thorin,’ Gilwyn groaned. ‘I had heard it but I didn’t believe. Look at yourself!’

‘I have seen myself, Gilwyn,’ said Thorin gently. ‘I am fearsome to behold, I know. I have done things, horrible things. But you must look at me. I am begging you to see me!’

‘I’m looking, Thorin,’ said Gilwyn, holding his gaze. ‘And what I see scares me.’

Thorin keened as though his heart was breaking. ‘See me as I was, not as I am. Remember who I was, Gilwyn, when I was your friend.’

‘It’s the armour,’ said Gilwyn. ‘The armour did this to you.’

Thorin nodded. ‘I am one with Kahldris now. This is the price of it.’

‘You can fight him.’ Gilwyn struggled to sit up. ‘You can beat him, Thorin.’

‘Hush.’ Thorin put a hand on Gilwyn’s shoulder. ‘Lie back.’

‘No. .’

‘Lie back, boy,’ Thorin ordered. ‘You are sick. Rest and tell me what has happened to you.’

Gilwyn took a breath. Fighting was no use, so he sank back against his pillow, feeling the pain of an enormous headache. ‘It was a rass,’ he said. ‘When I first left Jador. It found me in the desert. Its venom did this to me.’

‘You’re very weak. Has it been this way since then?’

‘Yes,’ said Gilwyn. ‘Sometimes worse. When I get worn out it comes back. It was such a long ride home, Thorin.’

Thorin smiled, faintly reminiscent of his old, fatherly grin. ‘And all for me. You are too good, boy. I am not worth your efforts.’

‘I didn’t come just for you,’ confessed Gilwyn. ‘I came because of White-Eye.’

Thorin avoided the subject, saying, ‘How long were you on the road? It has been months and months since I left Jador.’

‘Months,’ sighed Gilwyn. ‘It seemed like forever.’ He closed his eyes to beat back the nausea. ‘I should have made the trip faster.’

‘A lame boy like you?’ Thorin laughed. ‘No.’

Gilwyn opened his eyes. ‘Where is Kahldris, Thorin?’

Thorin hesitated. ‘He is part of me. As your own Akari is part of you, Gilwyn.’

‘He came to me, Thorin,’ said Gilwyn. ‘Weeks ago, when I was in Roall. He goaded me here. That’s why he hurt White-Eye, to make me come here.’

Again Thorin shifted the conversation. ‘You must rest now, Gilwyn. You are here now and have nowhere else to go. We will take care of you here.’ He smiled. ‘How good it is to see you.’

‘Thorin, tell me what happened to you,’ said Gilwyn. He was full of questions and refused to let Thorin avoid them. ‘When I was in Marn I heard what happened with the Reecians. They say you slaughtered them and that you killed their prince.’

‘Yes,’ said Thorin, his face darkening. ‘Sit back, Gilwyn.’

‘Tell me,’ said Gilwyn.

Thorin sighed distractedly. He rose from his place at the bedside, then went and dragged his chair closer. Sitting down again, he watched Gilwyn with his enigmatic gaze, as if sifting through all his horrible history.

‘It will be morning soon,’ he said. ‘And the things I’ve done would take longer to tell than that. I’ve heard the same stories as you, Gilwyn. What do they say in Marn? That I am a tyrant? Very well. If tyranny is what it takes to throttle Liiria back to greatness, then I am proudly guilty. Yes I killed the Reecians. In the armour I was like a god! No man could stop me. And I won the Kryss back for all of us. Did they tell you that in Marn?’

‘Thorin?’

‘Yes?’

‘You’ve gone mad.’

Thorin smiled then and nodded. ‘I have.’

Silence. The two friends stared at each other. Could a madman know such a thing about himself, Gilwyn wondered? Suddenly, he no longer feared Thorin. Rather, he was grief-stricken. Tears came again to his eyes.

‘No, do not weep for me,’ Thorin counseled. ‘I am well enough to know the choices I have made. I do not regret taking the armour, Gilwyn. Liiria needed me. She still needs me! She is weak, but I am strong. I have beaten nearly all my enemies. Kahldris has been good to me.’

‘Good for you? How can you say such a thing when you know that you are mad?’

‘Because I have chosen,’ said Thorin. ‘All of this was my own design. Did you see the library when you rode into Koth. I have rebuilt it! And when you are better you can take your place there, my boy, and you can run it and bring all the scholars to your side. You will make it great again.’

‘Thorin, stop.’ Gilwyn pushed himself up again. ‘Kahldris did not lure me here to run the library and you know it. Tell me why he wanted me here.’

Thorin’s face saddened. ‘It was necessary.’

‘So then, you know what he did to White-Eye? He blinded her, Thorin.’

‘I did not know this until it was over,’ Thorin insisted. ‘Believe me, please. Kahldris needed you, and how else could he have got you here? But I swear I would not let him hurt you, Gilwyn. I will never let him hurt you.’ Thorin leaned forward earnestly. ‘I will protect you.’

Amazingly, his promise heartened Gilwyn. After so many months of loneliness, of fending off animals and running from highwaymen, the thought of Thorin’s protection was like a warm blanket.

‘He hurt her,’ he said. ‘And you let him. Why, Thorin? Tell me.’

‘I will tell you,’ said Thorin. He leaned back. ‘But not yet.’

Frustrated, Gilwyn looked around the room. ‘Where are my things? I had saddle bags with me.’

‘They’re here,’ said Thorin. With his chin he gestured to the other side of Gilwyn’s bed. ‘And your horse has been taken care of too.’

Gilwyn leaned over the bed and saw that his bags were indeed there, lying just out of reach. ‘I need them,’ he said, too weak to get them. ‘Please, Thorin, will you get them for me?’

Thorin rose with a sigh. ‘You should rest, Gilwyn. We can speak again in a few hours.’

‘Thorin, please. .’

‘All right,’ lamented the baron, then went to the bedside and stooped down to retrieve the bags. ‘Which one?’

‘That one,’ said Gilwyn, pointing weakly to the smaller of the two leather bags. They were both badly worn and sun-bleached, but that one in particular bag held an item of great value. ‘Look through it. You’ll see what I want.’

Thorin looked puzzled but did as Gilwyn asked, setting the bag down on the bed at Gilwyn’s feet. He began rummaging through the few items within it, stopping quickly as his eyes seized on the item.

‘What is this?’ said Thorin, pulling it out and holding it up for inspection.

‘That ring belongs to King Lorn of Norvor,’ Gilwyn said. He watched Thorin’s face for a reaction. ‘He came to Jador. He helped me, Thorin. When he knew that I was coming here he gave that ring to me to show to Jazana Carr.’

Thorin’s face went suddenly white. ‘Jazana.’

‘Lorn’s still alive, Thorin. I promised him I would give that ring to Jazana Carr to prove to her he would be back for her. He wants Norvor back.’

Thorin sighed peculiarly. ‘Does he so?’ Then he shook his head and placed the ring in Gilwyn’s lap. ‘You may keep this ring, Gilwyn.’

‘No. No, I have to give it to her. I made a promise, Thorin.’

‘It’s a promise you can’t keep, boy,’ said Thorin darkly. ‘I. . have something to tell you.’

He moved away from the bed and stalked toward the window, staring out blankly at the dark night. Gilwyn could tell at once something terrible was on his mind. He picked up the ring at his lap, rolling it anxiously in his fingers.

‘Thorin? What happened?’

‘You can’t give that ring to Jazana,’ said Thorin. ‘Jazana’s dead. She died last night. She killed herself.’

The ring fell out of Gilwyn’s hand. ‘What?’

‘She was plotting against me, Gilwyn. That’s something you need to understand. You’re going to hear things while you’re here. True things, about how I beat her and drove her to it. But she tried to kill me.’ Thorin struggled with the story. ‘I am sorry for her death. She was good and loyal until she turned on me. I loved her.’

‘Thorin, I don’t understand. What happened?’

‘I was in Richter. Do you know that place?’

Gilwyn nodded. Most Liirians knew of the royal estate. ‘I know it, yes.’

‘I was with another woman, and Jazana took the chance to have me killed. She sent mercenaries there to burn me alive. They locked the doors of the house and set in on fire, but I escaped. The woman I was with did not.’ Thorin turned from the window to look at Gilwyn. ‘The woman was Meriel, Gilwyn. From Grimhold.’

‘Meriel?’ Gilwyn bolted upright. ‘She came here with Lukien.’

‘She did. And I battled Lukien and nearly killed him. After that she wandered for months before coming back to me. She loved me, Gilwyn, just as she did in Grimhold.’

The story made no sense. Gilwyn urged Thorin to go on. ‘What happened to Lukien? Where is he?’

‘Meriel seldom spoke of him. He left her to go and find a sword to defeat me. He abandoned her, Gilwyn, and she came to me!’

‘Thorin, I don’t care,’ Gilwyn shouted. ‘Tell me what happened to Lukien!’

‘Bah! Have you not heard what I’ve said, boy? I have lost two women who loved me in less than a week!’

Gilwyn shrank back. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, knowing he had to tread carefully. ‘You’re right, it’s terrible news.’

‘I thought I was all alone in the world again,’ said Thorin. ‘But then you came to me.’ His expression filled with bitter-sweet emotion. ‘The things I’ve done no man should speak of, Gilwyn. Jazana and Meriel both spoke to save me. They called me a madman, just as you have. Now I know that I am mad, but I cannot change. I have made enemies, too many to turn my back on.’

‘Kahldris has driven you to this, Thorin. It wasn’t you that killed Jazana — it was him.’ Thorin shook his head. ‘No, Gilwyn, it was I. I am not separate from Kahldris. I am him and he is me, and that is what has become of me.’ ‘Thorin, tell me about Lukien.’ Gilwyn shifted painfully in the bed. ‘Please.’

‘He came to stop me, Gilwyn.’

‘I know he did. But what happened to him?’

It was a story Thorin didn’t care to tell. He moved from the window as a hint of dawn began to light his face. ‘He came here with Meriel,’ he said finally. ‘And joined the others at the old library. My son Aric was with them.’

‘Your son? He’s still alive?’

‘Maybe he is dead now. I do not know. He fought with Lukien and the others, but Jazana and I defeated them easily. Lukien came to rescue me, just as you have done, Gilwyn. I begged him not to stand in my way. I begged him!’

‘Did you hurt him?’ Gilwyn asked pointedly.

‘Yes. I had to. I left him for dead just outside the city.’

‘But he’s not dead. .’

‘No. He left to find this sword.’ Thorin came again to kneel beside the bed. ‘It is called the Sword of Angels,’ he whispered. ‘It is the means to destroy me, Gilwyn. Lukien has found it. Now he is coming to kill me.’

‘How do you know this?’ asked Gilwyn.

‘Because Kahldris has told me so,’ said Thorin. ‘Because it is his brother that lies within the sword. That is why we brought you here, Gilwyn — to help us find his brother, Malator.’

Gilwyn shrugged, confused. ‘But how could I have helped?’

‘You knew Figgis better than anyone. He built that infernal catalogue machine to answer mysteries like this.’

‘No, Thorin, that’s not so.’

‘It is. It is a thinking machine. You told me this yourself.’

‘Yes, but it doesn’t work like that. .’

‘The machine helped Figgis find the Eye of God. Did you not tell me that?’

Gilwyn nodded reluctantly. ‘Yes, I did.’

‘Then surely it can answer the questions I need answered,’ said Thorin. ‘And you must help me, Gilwyn. You must use the machine to find out how to stop Malator. If there is a way, the machine will know. The contents of the library have every useless bit of knowledge mankind has ever learned! I have spent hours on end reading the books your master Figgis collected, but they are too many. I need the machine to help me find the answers. I need you, Gilwyn.’

Gilwyn’s head began to reel. He leaned back against the pillow, averting Thorin’s wild eyes. ‘I cannot use the machine. I don’t know how.’

‘Surely you must remember something, though. You spent your life in that place with Figgis. He must have taught you.’

‘I don’t remember, Thorin! It was so long ago. And the machine is so complicated.’

‘But you must try, Gilwyn!’ Thorin got up and sat next to him on the bed. ‘Lukien was a friend once. I warned him to stay away, but he comes again, just like all the rest of them. They all want me dead, Gilwyn.’

‘Lukien wants to help you-’

‘No!’ Thorin jumped up and stomped the floor. ‘He means to kill me, don’t you see? Just like Jazana and the Reecians and everyone else! If you don’t help me he will succeed, Gilwyn, and then there will be chaos in Liiria. Is that what you want?’

Gilwyn closed his eyes and groaned. ‘There already is chaos, Thorin. You’ve killed Jazana Carr, you’ve slaughtered the Reecians. Now everyone is afraid of you.’

‘But they obey me,’ declared Thorin proudly. ‘They know I am their master. Have I not rebuilt the library? I can rebuild all of Liiria. I can make it great again, if you’ll help me, boy.’ He calmed himself, looking down at Gilwyn. ‘Will you help me?’

Sick in his bed, Gilwyn could barely speak. Even thinking made him ache. His mind mulled over the things Thorin had told him. It all seemed impossible, but somehow he knew the stories were true. He wanted to help Thorin — he had come so far to rescue him. Perhaps the old man needed time. Perhaps in time, Gilwyn thought, he might be able to reach him.

‘I’m very tired,’ he said. ‘I need to rest.’

‘Yes, of course, you must rest,’ agreed Thorin. He put his fleshy hand onto Gilwyn’s forehead. ‘I have women here that will attend to you. They will bring you food and drink and when you are ready they will bathe you. But Gilwyn, I must have your answer soon. Rest now, but think on what I have said to you.’

He turned to go, heading for the door. Before he reached it Gilwyn called to him.

‘Thorin, wait.’

The baron lingered, his hand on the door handle. ‘Yes?’

‘Thank you for taking care of me.’

Thorin smiled. ‘I will always take care of you, Gilwyn. For as long as you remain in Lionkeep, I will protect you.’

He opened the door and left the room, closing off Gilwyn again in darkness. Gilwyn remained very still, listening to the baron’s footsteps disappear down the hall.

‘Ruana,’ he whispered. ‘Did you hear?’

I heard, said Ruana, her voice sad. I am sorry, Gilwyn. I tried to warn you.

‘He’s mad.’

In his mind, Ruana nodded. Yes.

‘I want to help him.’

You will not be able to reach him, Gilwyn. It is up to Lukien now.

‘But I have to try,’ resolved Gilwyn. ‘You see how he cares for me? He might listen to me.’

He will destroy you, Gilwyn, because he is a jackal now and that is what jackals do.

‘No.’ Gilwyn shook his head, refusing to believe it. ‘No, I see the man he was, still inside him. If I can wait, pretend to help him, maybe Lukien will come in time.’

Lukien is coming to kill him, Ruana pointed out. Not to save him.

‘You don’t know that.’

The Akari sighed. You are hopeless.

Gilwyn rolled over onto his side, facing the window. Outside he could see the morning light struggling through the sky. The vision heartened him. ‘It’s never hopeless, Ruana,’ he said. ‘We just have to believe.’