John Marco - The Devil's armour

Apple trees.

Lukien knew he should feel afraid, but he did not. Instead he was captivated by the strangeness, the oddity of seeing his own body beneath him. The dull pain in his head seemed to fade when he thought about it, and as he looked around he realised he had been in this place before.

‘I am dead,’ he told himself.

He had no mouth yet heard the words.

He glanced down to see his hands but found none. His eyes — if he had any — searched the familiar orchard. An easy feeling took him. Somehow, he knew he was not alone in this place.

And as he hoped he saw her, appearing from the apple trees, draped in mist and smiling, her heartbreaking face radiant with youth, her black hair shining like a raven’s wing. She was dressed as she had been that morning, her long nightgown around her naked feet, feet that danced on the air without touching the ground. She was ghostly, yet as real as stone, and the sight of her made Lukien weak.

‘Cassandra. .’

Cassandra, his beloved, reached out to touch his invisible cheek. Somehow he felt the touch, warm with life. He saw in her face all the distance they had endured, all the misery of being apart.

‘My love,’ she said, ‘don’t fear. It is really me.’

In this place that she had died, Cassandra had lived on. The notion bewitched Lukien.

‘It is you,’ he moaned. ‘Cassandra, you’re alive!’

She smiled cautiously. ‘Not alive, Lukien, not the way you believe. But yes, I live on in another place.’

‘What place?’ asked Lukien. ‘The place of the dead?’ Again he looked at his body. ‘Cassandra. . am I dead?’

Cassandra’s pretty face grew sad. ‘Very near,’ she said, ‘but it is not your time, and the amulet keeps you alive. Now listen to me, Lukien. .’

Lukien could only half hear her, so overjoyed was he to see her. He wanted to touch her, to sweep her up and kiss her, but he had no arms and the frustration maddened him.

‘How is this possible?’ he crowed, near tears. ‘You have always been here? Always alive like this?’

‘Not alive,’ Cassandra repeated. ‘I live in the world beyond yours, Lukien. I’ve come to this place between the worlds to see you.’

‘Then we will not go back, either of us!’ said Lukien. He began to laugh joyously. ‘We can stay here together, forever you and I.’

‘We cannot,’ said Cassandra. Her pale image began to shimmer. ‘You have not died, Lukien. You cannot stay here, and I have only come as a messenger. Now you must listen. . you must go back, my love. You are not done in your world yet.’

‘What?’ Lukien’s joy began to crumble. ‘Go back? Why must I? I am dead, Cassandra, look at me! I will not go back and leave you, never again!’

‘You must,’ Cassandra implored. Her eyes filled with grief. ‘Thorin Glass cannot be stopped without you.’

Lukien shook his head. ‘There is no way,’ he said, remembering the stunning pain. ‘Amaraz has failed me. He promised me the means but never gave it.’

‘You are wrong. Amaraz could not help you, Lukien. He does not know where the means is hidden. He meant you to find me, so that I would tell you.’

‘Cassandra, what is this gibberish?’

‘A sword, Lukien. The Sword of Angels. In the Kingdom of Serpents beyond the Grimhold desert. The brother to Kahldris is in that sword, Lukien. He can defeat Kahldris.’

Lukien felt himself shake with anger. ‘No,’ he growled, ‘I will not quest for this sword. All the Akari be damned! I will not leave you.’

Cassandra’s expression was agonising. ‘Lukien, you’re still alive! You think you are with me but you are not, not yet. That day will come, my love, but your mortal life still calls you. Find the Sword of Angels, Lukien. Find it and stop the armour.’

Lukien wanted to roar with anger. ‘Why does Amaraz torture me? Why does he keep this all from me?’ Raising his face to heaven, he cried, ‘Do you hear me, you monster? Why do you keep this from me!’

‘Amaraz cannot help you, Lukien,’ said Cassandra gently. ‘He knows of the sword but knows not where it lies or how to find it. It is hidden from him and all Akari, even Kahldris. I know of it because I am not one of them.’

The riddle angered Lukien. ‘Cassandra, enough. Do not play their game. Don’t you see how the Akari manipulate us? They don’t let me die, yet they keep me from you. They refuse to let you lie in peace yet summon you to tempt me. They are vicious creatures and I am done with them!’

Again Cassandra touched his face. ‘My love, stop now. The Akari only mean to help us. They have allowed me to bridge the worlds to come to you, so that you might see me one more time. It is a gift they give us, Lukien. Look at me! I am alive in the world beyond yours and someday you can join me! Is that not enough to ease your heart? It should thrill you to know this secret.’

‘I want to be with you now , Cassandra.’

‘You will be with me. Nothing can stop that. But not until it’s time. I cannot take you with me.’ Cassandra cupped his face in her hands. ‘Find the Sword of Angels. Find it before Thorin finds it.’

‘I will do it,’ Lukien spat. ‘And when I have done my work for these Akari I will join you, Cassandra.’

Cassandra’s face darkened. ‘Not until your time.’

‘I will make my own time! And no Akari will stop me. My life is my own, and I will take it if I choose.’ Lukien managed to hold back his tears. ‘I’ll find this Serpent Kingdom and the sword,’ he pledged, ‘and I will end the reign of Baron Glass. But when I have done all this work for others I will declare myself free of these Akari and their curses.’

Cassandra drifted backward, suffering with pity. ‘I have said enough; we have no more time, my love. You will find the Sword of Angels in the land beyond Grimhold. All your questions will be answered there.’

‘Cass, don’t leave me. .’

‘I must, my love, but know this. . I am always with you. Only a veil separates us.’

Cassandra floated closer and placed a kiss on his unseen lips. The sense of it made Lukien shudder. He felt the pain in his head again, sharper suddenly, and knew his body was calling him back. The image of Cassandra began fading into the apple trees.

‘I will see you again!’ he cried, the darkness quickly growing. ‘We’ll be together!’

Then, like drifting off to sleep, Lukien fell into the unconscious void of his mortal world.

Baron Glass finally reached the library at nightfall.

He had spent the bulk of his day in Koth, watching as his men routed the rest of the city’s defenders, claiming Lionkeep and Chancellery Square and imprisoning those who had yet to escape. A great line of refugees had fled the city shortly after Lukien’s demise; Thorin let them go. Many Liirian soldiers had been among them, but he had no wish to hunt them. Koth was his, and that was all that mattered. Yet he felt no joy in the conquest, for the sight of Lukien’s broken body haunted him throughout the day, and he was halfhearted in his ride through the city, sallow as he gave orders to secure the streets and see to the safety of the populace. The people of Koth had surrendered without delay, he told his men, and he strictly forbade them from looting the city or harming any of its women, a sport he knew to be popular among the Rolgans in particular. Lord Demortris accepted the order sourly, but by the end of the day he had carried it out to Thorin’s satisfaction, allowing the baron to ride for Library Hill.

At the library he discovered much the same as he had in Koth proper — destruction and despair. Varl’s mercenary force had done a fine job of disobeying his orders; their catapults had wrecked the place. It was unbelievable to Thorin that Varl could be so careless. Even more confusing, reports had reached Thorin earlier in the day saying that Varl had allowed everyone in the library to escape and join the flood of refugees from the city. Thorin didn’t care that he had spared them, but he did wonder why. Too grief-stricken to be angry, he trotted his horse up the hill road to the yards accompanied by Colonel Thayus. His heart nearly broke when he saw the great gouges ripped into the once-beautiful library.