John Marco - The Devil's armour

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.’