King’s Wrath

by Fiona McIntosh

  “You see him?”

  Leo nodded, helplessly enjoying the man’s look of bafflement. “I hear him talk too. He talks about killing the emperor.”

  “Lo, strike me!”

  “And I think there was another member of the family that was an invalid.”

  The man nodded. “The youngest son. He was adopted. Not really Valisar but,” he shrugged, “he was very popular I gather. A charming sort of child from what I heard. A sort of smiling idiot you could say, but a very sweet boy.”

  “And everyone believes he too disappeared.”

  “Perished is probably more to the point. He was just a little boy of around five anni when he disappeared, wandered off into the woodland near the palace. I mean, his parents were dead, brother gone; no one was really looking after him I suppose and I doubt very much whether anyone cared anyway.”

  “I shall shock you again, sir. He is alive. And far from an invalid.”

  The man stared at him with a narrowed gaze, an angry set to his mouth. “Oh, this is preposterous.”

  Leo shrugged. “He was taken south. He’s now very able and also very keen on the throne.”

  “Is this some kind of a joke? Because if so Vulpan will soon see through—”

  “No joke at all, sir. I’m deadly serious. The emperor should be made aware of it.”

  “Oh I doubt very much whether the emperor would be at all frightened by this . . . this frankly unbelievable news of yours. And in any case he is very well protected. He has an army behind him. Look around you, Cadryn. These are all loyal soldiers. No one can touch him.”

  “Is that so? Then I’m not sure how you explain that the emperor has gone missing, captured in the forest.”

  “Young man, you are—”

  “I’m telling you only what I see. You asked me my magic. This is it. I see the Valisars and those closely connected to them. Check the facts if you don’t believe me, sir. I think if you ask in the right circles you may find some embarrassed answers from the emperor’s men. I’ll bet no one knows where exactly he is right now and that will be because I know he has been captured by a Davarigon.”

  “You’ve seen this?”

  Leo nodded. “As clear as I see you sitting before me, sir. He is her prisoner.”

  “Hers!”

  “Yes, sir, a woman.”

  “Wait! You said you dreamed about Valisars. Why do you dream about Loethar?”

  “Because he rules,” he said evasively. “And by the way, if anyone is looking for Gavriel de Vis—that is, the son of Regor de Vis, deceased Legate to our former king—they’ll find him probably traveling in cohorts with the Davarigon.”

  “Right,” the man said, standing abruptly. “You are coming with me. As much as I want to, I can’t ignore this news.”

  “Well, actually you can, sir.”

  The man paused, suspicious. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You can write down anything you like as regards my magic. Is your blood taster here?”

  The man shook his head. “He’s in Penraven.”

  “Then we’re in no immediate hurry. I have time.”

  “Time to what?”

  “General Marth, do you really think you could keep up this disguise?”

  The man sat down again, looking around fearfully. “Keep your voice down. What did you just say?”

  “You heard me. I must admit I never for a moment thought I’d have a stroke of luck like this.”

  “Young man, I think you’ve made a mistake.”

  “No, sir, I have not. I have a perfect memory for faces and you are General Marth of Barronel. How you have kept this a secret from the invaders must make a good story.”

  “I don’t recognize you at all. Should I?”

  “You should, yes, but I doubt you could. I was perhaps ten when I was presented to you.”

  “Presented?”

  “Yes, general, at Brighthelm, during one of the gatherings of the Set. All the royals brought their closest aides, their families. If Loethar had done his homework properly, he would have known far less blood needed to be shed if he’d simply struck one of these lavish occasions. He could have killed all the royals of all the realms in one fell swoop.”

  “And what were you in the palace? A page, a messenger, a stablehand, what?”

  Leo laughed. “No, sir. I was attached to the royal retinue.”

  “One of that man Freath’s team, eh?”

  “He was one of mine, more like.”

  The general blinked.

  “I shall put you out of your misery because time is against us. I am Leonel, true Valisar King of Penraven.”

  The man stared at him, dumbfounded.

  “Close your mouth, sir. We don’t want to attract attention, now do we? I can prove it; ask me anything about the Valisar household. I was privy to a lot of my father’s private information, the sort he would have shared with King Ormond.”

  The general couldn’t help himself. “There was a pact—a plan that went to hell it seems once the barbarian horde struck. It was between Ormond and Brennus. What was it called?”

  Leo nodded. “Their code for it was Biramay—after the sweet dessert liquor they were both partial to but one needed an acquired taste for. I myself loathe it.”

  The general’s eyebrow arched. “What was the name of the horse Brennus gifted to Ormond at the birth of his third child?”

  Leo frowned. “Frolic . . . er no, forgive me, that was for his second. It was Nightmoon. I chose the name,” he said, shrugging.

  Marth sat back and regarded Leo somberly. “Something happened in their childhood—as princes—that made Ormond and Brennus special friends. Very few people know.”

  “I do, sir. There was a picnic in Barronel. The royal children were playing on the lake near the palace. They were forbidden to take out a boat but they defied their minders. There were three of them. Your king, my father and another high ranking noble’s child—a daughter I seem to recall. The boat capsized. Ormond was a good swimmer and saved my father’s life but they never spoke of it outside the immediate families because he chose to save my father over the child of Barronel, who drowned.”

  The general nodded, looking stunned. “This is just not possible.”

  “I think I’ve just proven it is.”

  “But why have you decided to declare yourself now?”

  “That really is a tall tale, sir. But in short, when Leothar conquered the Set I was child. I had to wait to grow up before I could make a real challenge. And now everything I’ve told you about Loethar is true. He has been taken. The empire is now being run by Stracker, except no one probably realizes this yet, and I don’t think even Loethar would stomach that.”

  “Absolutely not. I don’t think any of us would.”

  “Us, sir?”

  “Those of us who have learned to accept Loethar’s rule. The people.”

  Leo smiled. “Well, why don’t you do some digging around to see that the new information I’ve given you is true. In the meantime can you make it possible for me to roam the compound?”

  Marth looked back at him quizzically.

  “You know: meeting the others here, getting to know all the different areas. I’m actually looking for people I might have known once. I’m sure the person you mention—Reuth—could help.”

  The former general looked relieved, Leo knew, because his request sounded innocent enough. “Yes, of course. And I will see what I can discover. You are still an inmate of the compound er . . . Cadryn.”

  “Of course. Calling me your majesty is probably a fraction presumptuous yet.”

  Marth blinked uncertainly.

  “General Marth,” and Leo paused as the man looked around, worried, “I won’t call you that again, I promise. I do understand that I am not your sovereign. But you need to keep in mind that you have no sovereign any longer. If all of Ormond’s immediate kin was slaughtered then a royal family exists no more. You might as well throw your support behind
Barronel’s closest ally.”

  “Who should have come to our aid when we cried out for it!” the older man growled.

  “I understand why you might think that. But you must remember that it was war. I cannot know all that was going on in my father’s mind, but neither do I think I should be held responsible for his decisions. And I can assure you that our only chance to depose Loethar is through our union. If I can win back my throne, who is to say Barronel’s Crown cannot be reinstated through a distant family line, or Vorgaven’s, or Cremond’s?”

  His companion snarled. “Cowards that they were!”

  “Dregon, Gormand, then? Each realm has its own sorrows. We have to start somewhere. And right now you have a king sitting before you, not an heir. On my father’s death I assumed his crown. I watched him die, Marth. I knew from that moment I had become king and my right to rule has burned with a passion the same way that you describe Reuth’s belly still burning from the loss of her husbands. You’ve lost sons and a wife. It is surely worth their memory to at least undermine Loethar. Do you want to be remembered only as the man who surrendered to a barbarian?”

  He watched the old soldier fight the emotion wrestling inside; his lips moved with his internal battle.

  “Marth, my family sword has been buried for safekeeping not far outside the city’s entrance. Will that help convince you? That and the confirmation that Loethar is not available for any meetings, any orders, any form of communication?”

  “You are not Vested, are you?” Marth asked with a heavy voice.

  Leo smiled evasively. “I could be.”

  It was clear Marth didn’t believe him but regardless he nodded as though resigned. “Tell me where to find the sword.”

  “Give me that stylus. I will draw a map of where to find Faeroe. The rest is up to you.”

  “All right, Cadryn, I will give you access to the whole compound. I’ll take your map. I’ll look into your claims. And I will find you. If any of this is a lie, you will disappear from this camp and it won’t be because you were allowed to walk out of it. You will be buried somewhere in an unmarked grave.”

  Leo nodded. “So be it. But for now find me Reuth.”

  Kilt looked back at Corbel gravely. “That’s the most outlandish tale I’ve ever heard. It would make an excellent bedtime story for childen.”

  “Making fun is not—”

  “I’m not making fun. I’m simply astonished at the breadth of Brennus’s vision and his cunning . . . but mostly his ruthlessness. I should no longer be surprised by the emerging Leo. Blood will out.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Simply that his desire to wear the former crown of Penraven outweighs all empathy. He is his father’s son.”

  Corbel nodded. “I do not know Leo any more. I knew only the lad. But given what Brennus demanded of me I think we can safely say that the king was able to sacrifice empathy for what he believed was his duty as a Valisar. And still he was a good sovereign to his people.”

  “I hate to say it but Loethar is better.”

  Corbel’s head snapped up.

  Kilt shrugged. “It’s true. If you had the time I’d make you canvass as many ordinary people as you cared to in any part of the old realms. I’d stake my life that almost all of them—peasant to merchant to noble—will say that life under Loethar’s rule has been good . . . better even than under Brennus.”

  “How can you say that when he’s a barbarian? An impostor, a tyrant—”

  Kilt held up a hand to stem the barrage, his tone patient. “Corbel, if you think your story had the capacity to shock, what I shall now reveal will stun you. It did me and I am not easily stunned.”

  “Go on.”

  “Loethar is no impostor. He is the first son of Darros and as much a Valisar as Brennus with, I might add, a far stronger claim on the throne than Brennus or Leo.”

  Corbel stared at him, his face a mask. The silence lengthened.

  “I am not lying to you,” Kilt continued. “I have no reason to.”

  “How can you prove that?”

  “You accept the Valisar magic? You’ve witnessed what happens to Genevieve . . . to me? I’ve explained to you all about my difficult relationship with Leo and I’ve given you as much as we know about the aegis magic.”

  Corbel’s expression turned pensive, his voice sounding perplexed. “I’m coming to terms with it,” he said slowly. “There is no explanation for Evie’s behavior; she looked to be in some sort of pain and yet she couldn’t keep away from you.”

  Kilt had regained enough of his composure to wink. “I’d like to claim it’s my irresistible charm or my dashing looks. Alas, though I do have both of those, it is the call of the magic that draws Genevieve to me. I can explain it only one way—it feels like a tortured rapture. It hurts more than I describe but you want more and more. If Jewd hadn’t dragged me away I would have just given myself to her.”

  “Meaning?”

  “She could have done whatever she wanted with me.”

  “And it will always be like this between you?”

  He nodded. “And any other untrammeled aegis, I suspect. I could resist Leo. His magic is all but not there; he never once suspected who I was although it still hurt me to be around him. But I quickly learned to cope and taught myself how to resist the magic’s pull. The princess is brimming with a magical force I have never encountered previously. I have no chance against her. I would simply drown in her magic.”

  “You would let her maim you?”

  “Not happily but willingly, if she is near enough.”

  “But you and she were next to one another. How come she didn’t react? It was only when she touched you that her response began.”

  Kilt frowned. “I can only put that down to her being taken away from this plane before her magic woke fully. Touching an aegis awakened it, I’d guess, like suddenly igniting a flame in a barn of straw.”

  Corbel blew out his cheeks with a big sigh. “And so now you’re going to tell me that you have reacted the same way to Loethar.”

  “I hate to be predictable but yes. My reaction to him was less hysterical, I suppose, than to the princess but it was the strongest I’ve ever felt. Even Brennus, all those years—his magic was very weak, like Leo. Anyway, that’s why I’m here and on the run. Loethar nearly had me in his clutch and Leo saw that and got the same idea.”

  “And Gav’s with Leo,” Corbel said, thinking aloud.

  “The last I saw.”

  “We were called back through magic. Do you know what is expected of us?”

  “I suppose only that fellow Sergius you’ve told me about can explain that. I can’t guess, other than for Genevieve to attempt a coup.”

  “Putting Evie on the throne by force?”

  Kilt shrugged. “I can’t imagine her father went to all the effort of hiding her simply because he was so in love with his hours-old daughter. He was very calculating, both as a man and as a ruler. So,” he sighed, “I suspect she was sent away to be kept safe, so that she could rule if her brother couldn’t. As a contingency.”

  “She will not want the throne.”

  “But you knew that before you returned. So I presume you don’t care what she wants. If you’re anything like your brother you’re all about duty.”

  Corbel scowled at him. “That’s not how it is.”

  “It is, de Vis,” Kilt said wearily. “You surely didn’t think being brought back meant there would be a parade and people flinging flowers for Genevieve to tread on all the way to her coronation, did you? Genevieve smiling indulgently as she is crowned beloved new queen?” He kept his tone kind although the words were sarcastic. “At the back of your mind you had to believe there was a fight waiting.”

  Corbel gave an angry groan. “I don’t want her life threatened.”

  Kilt made a soft scoffing sound. “And now you’re just deluding yourself. You knew from the moment she was given to you as a newborn that her life was threatened. But
you weren’t emotionally attached to her then. Now you clearly are,” he said lightly. “It’s harder to risk someone you . . . care about.” He smiled. “And yet risk her you have because it is your sworn duty.”

  “We were not living a real life. When I recognized the magic reach out and call to me I had to answer it. I didn’t have a choice.”

  “Didn’t you?” Kilt broke the awkward pause that followed by hauling himself to his feet. “Lo, but I’m getting very weary of how this Valisar magic leaves me so helpless. I think I would happily kill all the Valisars myself if it meant ridding myself of this weakness . . . not that I can get within howling distance of them with a weapon.” He winked at Corbel. “Come on, de Vis. It’s no good moping. Something very strange was happening at Brighthelm a day or so ago and it involved the throne. We have to make some decisions. I think another Valisar has crept out of the woodwork.”

  Corbel looked at him from where he still sat. “There isn’t one.”

  “Well, I’m afraid that doesn’t wash at all. We didn’t know Loethar was Valisar, did we? And yet Valisar he is. No one knew that the princess was alive and well and capable of claiming the throne, and yet here she is. Leo has always spoken fondly of Piven and we don’t—”

  “Piven?” Corbel shook his head and stood easily. “Piven was lost in his mind. He was a complete invalid. If it wasn’t for his mother he would have been kept on a leash or caged. It beggars belief that he didn’t kill him.”

  “Indeed. But now we could hazard that he perhaps felt a vague family connection, especially as Leo tells us that Piven was so affectionate to Loethar. The boy was no threat, after all, clearly a helpless innocent.” Kilt flashed a wry glance at Corbel and his mouth twisted into a brief crooked grin. “Or was he? Has he got everyone fooled?”

  “Impossible!” Corbel snapped.

  “I’m telling you, de Vis. I have no control over how I respond to Valisar magic. And there was a Valisar in the square yesterday; it was a male and he wasn’t scared of anyone. He sounded like Leo, but younger. I can assure you it wasn’t Loethar.”