Free The Devil's Armour (Gollancz S.F.) by John Marco Page B

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.

4
Shalafein
     

     
    The heat of the desert made the horizon shimmer. An ever-present breeze whispered on the air. Up in its orange cradle, the merciless sun, god of this world, burned the sky.
    Lukien of Liiria looked out across the dunes, across what looked to be an endless sea of sand, squinting with his one eye against the mirages rising from the earth. From where he sat upon his horse it seemed the Desert of Tears was all there was, and all that had ever been. No longer could he see Jador or its splendid spires, nor sprawling, menacing Ganjor. There was only sand, forever shifting, devouring itself. Lukien unwrapped the gaka from around his face. He had never gotten used to the heavy desert clothes. He drew a hand across his forehead and wiped away a slick of sweat. The relentless sun blinded him.
    ‘I see nothing,’ he said to his companions. ‘You?’
    Beside him, Gilwyn Toms sat upon his kreel, a small female of the species he had named Emerald. Like all of them, Gilwyn wore a gaka to stave off the sun. The scales of his reptilian mount riffled anxiously through colours as she and her rider scanned the horizon.
    ‘Nothing,’ replied Gilwyn. He turned toward the men they’d brought with them, five Jadori warriors who had become their friends, and a single Inhuman from Grimhold wrapped completely in robes so that every inch of his skin was covered. The dark-coloured Jadori were used to the desert sun and so did not hide themselves behind gakas ascompletely as the northerners did. Each of them watched the distant dunes. Together they had ridden a long way from Jador, hurrying out into the desert once news had reached them of the Seekers. It had gone on like this for months now, ever since word had escaped of Grimhold’s existence. So far, though, they hadn’t found the Seekers Princess Salina had warned them about.
    ‘We should go on,’ said the one from Grimhold. He was an albino named Ghost, and like many from his fabled home his abilities were remarkable. Because of this he had remained in Jador with Gilwyn, helping to protect the desert city. The same was true for Lukien. In a prior life he had been the Bronze Knight, and there were those who called him that still. But in Jador he had taken on a Jadori name – Shalafein, the Great Protector. Around his neck he wore the Eye of God. He could feel it now beneath his robes, pulsing lightly, its silent spirit keeping him alive. He belonged to Grimhold now, despite a life spent in Liiria. And because of the amulet, he was as much an Inhuman as Ghost.
    ‘Maybe it’s too late,’ remarked Gilwyn. ‘Maybe the raiders have gotten them.’
    It was the same dark conclusion they’d all come to, though Lukien hated to admit it. Riding out from Jador in a panicked rush was no way to save people, and they