King’s Wrath

by Fiona McIntosh

  “I love Corbel but not in the way you think he may love me.” She shook her head. “I love him as a brother.”

  Kilt smirked, but not unkindly. “Please don’t ever say that to him. Those are words that chill a man who loves a woman.”

  “I’ll trust you on that,” she said, her voice full of sorrow. “Why didn’t he ever say anything?”

  “You know him much better than I but from the little time I’ve spent with him I know he’s a very private, very reserved person. Very different from his brother.”

  “Gavriel? That’s a nice name.”

  “And like his twin he’s a good, loyal person. But you know what Gavriel is thinking because he tells you. Corbel might be saying one thing but thinking another.” He held up a hand. “I’m not calling him a liar. What I mean is, he doesn’t allow anyone to see the real him. I know the feeling and I think it’s why I find him easy to like.”

  “Back . . .” she sighed. “Where we’ve been living he had no friend but myself. I mean no one. He was a loner.”

  Kilt nodded. “Try and put yourself into his position. Imagine what he has had to do for his sovereign, the price he’s paid and continues to pay for his loyalty. He’s given up his life, his family, his world.”

  She looked suddenly guilty and turned away. “I haven’t really paused to consider any of this from his perspective.”

  “Well, the Valisars are known to have a selfish streak,” he replied, his tone dry.

  Evie turned and punched him lightly. “I am not one of them.”

  “Oh, my sweet girl, I’m afraid you are. But, to the business at hand. Thank you for releasing me from your spell but I cannot accept the gift.”

  “Kilt,” she began, shaking her head, a look of plea in her eyes.

  “Listen to me,” he said. “My feelings, de Vis’s feelings, your feelings aside, we must return to the original problem—that you are in mortal danger. Whether or not you care about your crown is not the issue. You could be killed for simply being a Valisar heir.” He inhaled and made a tutting sound as she began to protest. “Wait, let me finish. What has happened between us changes everything. I want to be bonded to you. Trammel me now or break my heart forever.”

  She swallowed. “I refuse.”

  “You can’t. You cannot ignore my feelings for you. I will wear down your healing resistance. And even if I can’t, even if you can keep channeling that healing magic, it can’t stop my loving you. Either way, magic or through love, I am yours.”

  “I should heal you of your love, then!”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “I don’t want to trammel you.”

  “I don’t want you to die. And die you will when Leo or Loethar catches up with you. But if you have an aegis, no one can touch you. You don’t have to do anything with that aegis magic except use it to defend your life and those of the others you care about—Corbel de Vis for instance, or me. If you care a whit about me, trammel me. I never thought I’d hear myself beg for such a thing but, your highness, I’m urging you to use the magic bond for good, to save lives.”

  She bit her lip. “I won’t eat your flesh.”

  “You have to!”

  “Wait. Listen to me now. I’ve been thinking. This great aegis magic you tell me was conceived hundreds of years ago.”

  “Correct,” he said.

  “And so presumably you would consider the era that you live in far more advanced and civilized than then, right?”

  “Right. That was the time of Cormoron, First of the Valisars. My reading of history tells me he was something of a barbarian himself in the way he invaded and cowed the tribes of the region that he ultimately called Penraven.”

  “Good, so try and follow my line of thought here. I am imagining that this whole idea of the aegis was written down somewhere. And wherever it was first put down, it was recorded in a more ancient language. What if that language needs to be interpreted?” He frowned at her. “Hear me out,” she continued. “From what you’ve explained the key word regarding the aegis magic is that the Valisar must consume his or her aegis.”

  “Or any aegis,” Kilt corrected.

  “But they must be consumed. Am I right, that’s the term?”

  “Yes,” he said, looking bewildered.

  She smiled ferociously. “Kilt, the word consume doesn’t just mean to eat. It can mean destroy, as a fire might consume all in its path. And it can mean to spend . . . as, as . . .” She searched for the right comparison. “As in consuming all one’s money in worthless goods.”

  He blinked.

  “And it can mean to devour . . . as in to eat or drink—but it could also mean to be engrossed,” she said, almost lecturing him. “As in you and I are so consumed by each other that we forgot the time. To consume can mean all of those things but it can also mean to absorb,” she said, slowly, clearly, as though holding his hand and leading him down a path. “Will you accept that?”

  He considered her premise. “To absorb?” She nodded and he echoed her gesture. “Yes, absolutely it could mean that, but I don’t see how this relates to—”

  “Hell, men are dunderheads sometimes. Think, Kilt. How else can I consume you if I don’t eat or destroy or devour you?”

  He shook his head, lost.

  She gave a groan. “All right, make me say it, then!” She turned away and leaned against the nearby tree. “If you made love to me, I would not only take your living flesh inside me but if we do it right,” she said, turning back, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, “then you would leave behind a part of yourself that I would absorb . . . that I would consume into my body.”

  “My seed,” he said, enlightenment dawning.

  She smiled. “Yes.”

  His gaze snapped back to hers and he kissed her hard. “Amazing, just amazing! You are easily the cleverest and most cunning of all the Valisars. I think you’ve just found the secret to outwitting their own clever magic!”

  She shrugged. “It’s just a theory.”

  “It has to work. It has to. There is nothing in anything I’ve read about my aegis magic that specifies I have to be eaten. The word is consumed and you’re so right, it’s open to interpretation. Perhaps the devouring of an aegis by gorging on it was always a poor interpretation. Genevieve, you’re incredible.”

  She grinned and there was a wicked sparkle in her eyes now. “I just didn’t think it was worth wasting that,” she said, looking down and pointing.

  His laughter echoed around the orchard.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Perl slumped in a corner, motionless. She hadn’t spoken since the trammeling and everyone had wisely left her alone, even as they had tested the magic.

  “Protect me, Perl!” Leo had commanded. She made no sound, didn’t even glance his way, but he nodded and beckoned to Reuth. “Now, Reuth. Come.”

  Tentatively, then with more and more force, Reuth tried to stab the king. Leo had laughed the loudest of all when the blade slid away, time after time.

  “Now do you see, Marth?” he raged, pacing the small hut, puffed like a mating raker bird, swelled with his importance and invincibility. “Now we have our king, we have our weapon, we have our means to simply break free of the shackles of the barbarians.”

  “Perl,” Reuth tried. “You did it. And now we can be free.”

  “You maybe, Reuth, but not I. I am more of a prisoner than I have ever been previously,” she said, her formerly distant gaze suddenly viciously focused.

  Leo threw her an offhand look of disdain. “Stop bleating, Perl. This is war. And I need you.”

  “So much for the famed Valisar magic,” she sneered.

  Reuth looked at her, aghast. “He’s the king, Perl. Show some care.”

  “Why? What do you think he’s going to do to me? Hurt me? Kill me perhaps? Make my life miserable? He’s already done the worst he can and now I have to protect him anyway. So no, I don’t believe I have to show care at all toward our merciful Valisar king!” She
spat on the ground. “You have no magic to speak of of your own and if I wasn’t your true aegis, I could have evaded you entirely but not the others.”

  Reuth, still looking shocked, blinked. “Others?”

  “Loethar and the halfwit child,” Perl said matter-of-factly.

  “Be quiet!” Leo warned, taking more notice of Perl now.

  But Reuth couldn’t let it go now. “Loethar isn’t Valisar.”

  “Isn’t he?” Perl asked, looking around at everyone. “Why do you think he’s trying to shut me up?” she said, nodding at Leo with her own measure of disdain. “Loethar is Valisar, you poor fools. Look at him, look how angry I’ve made him.” She laughed, genuine delight creasing her face. Reuth had never seen her so animated.

  It was Marth who was most intrigued, though. His face had grown heavy with concern. “How do you know this, Perl? Er, no,” he said at Leo’s attempt to interrupt. “I need to hear this. I told you, while you may be Penraven’s heir, you are not my king. My king is dead. And while I am loyal to the Set and thus the Valisars, I will still satisfy myself.”

  Leo’s scowl intensified. “So what if he’s Valisar. He’s not the rightful crown bearer. I am!”

  Reuth gasped, genuinely shocked.

  “You knew?” Marth asked, sounding angry and confused.

  “He’s a bastard son. Darros must have idly cast his wild seed on the plains and promptly forgot about the bitch he lay with.”

  “The bitch being Dara Negev, presumably?”

  Leo shrugged. “She deserves no title but to be remembered as the old whore who treated my mother—your queen, Reuth,” he said, pointing an accusing finger at her, “like scum. My mother didn’t have to steal a throne, she didn’t even need a Valisar marriage; she was a royal in her own right!” His voice broke with the emotion fueling his rage.

  Reuth nodded. “We all understand how you feel, majesty. But you are relying on us to win you the throne. The least you can do for us is honesty. You should have told us the truth about Loethar.”

  Marth still looked dumbfounded. “He’s Valisar. How can we be sure?”

  “The magic doesn’t lie,” Perl snarled. “I know, I live with it. When I was taken to the palace, we were led to some rooms in a far wing and we saw the man that I later learned was the self-proclaimed emperor cross one of the courtyards. My reaction was instant.”

  “You swooned, that’s right,” Reuth said, wonder in her voice as she recalled the memory of many anni previous. “Hedray and I helped you.”

  Perl nodded. “If it was just one of them I might have caught my reaction in time but not two of them.” She smiled maliciously at Leo. “Truth time, your majesty,” she said, pronouncing his title in a tone loaded with derision.

  Leo regarded the stares of inquiry and shrugged. “Then she knew long before I ever did.”

  “What?” Marth demanded. “What is Perl alluding to?”

  “She’s enjoying her knowledge that my brother, Piven, who we all believed was adopted, is in fact a blood brother.”

  “Clovis was right,” Reuth said, bewildered. “I never believed him but Clovis was right. He knew that lad from the south was the prince.”

  “Well, Reuth, I was going to spare you this but since we’re on this pathway of honesty now you might as well hear it all. It was Piven, my true Valisar brother, who slaughtered your husband, Clovis.”

  The blood drained from Reuth’s face. “What?” she whispered.

  “Clovis was unarmed, Reuth. He simply wanted to talk to Piven. And here’s another truth for you all: Piven is no longer the halfwit everyone believes him to be. He is now whole and what’s more he’s on a killing spree. He has his aegis and he is crazed with his new-found power, hellbent on revenge.”

  “Revenge?” Marth asked, his face a story of his own series of shocks.

  “Yes, revenge on Loethar, revenge on me, revenge on anyone who stands between him and the throne of Penraven. He has simply replaced one form of madness with another. And now he has the capacity to kill at will whomever he chooses.”

  “So do you,” Perl snarled.

  “I am rational, Perl. I am returning order to Penraven and ultimately the Set. General Marth here will be able to reinstate the royal bloodline of Barronel—I will help him to do just that. My intention as king is to return all the realms to their rightful royals. I do not want to rule an empire.”

  Marth sighed. “Well said, majesty. Despite the shock, I think we know we’re doing the right thing. Perl, it is done now. I am sorry for your suffering but it was for the greater good, not just for the Vested or the royals but for all the people of the Set.”

  “And with Marth and Reuth as my witness,” Leo said, “I give you my word that I will do everything I can to make your life pleasant. You may live as far away from me as you can stand; you will have all the comforts and wealth that you desire, or don’t . . . as you wish. You will lead your own life, Perl, as much as the magic will permit. I will make no further demands upon you once we have won back the throne. Do you all hear me?”

  Reuth nodded, and saw that Marth did too. “We hear you,” they repeated.

  Reuth touched Perl, looking amazed by her clean scalp; the birthmark that anointed her as an aegis had disappeared with the trammeling. “He’s being fair. Can’t you move past your despair and be optimistic; help us to help yourself?”

  Perl had been jingling her runestones in her pocket and now she cast them on the table nearby. “I will consult the stones.”

  Reuth sighed and looked up at the others, shaking her head. “So what now? We know you are invincible, Leo, but how do we now take on the barbarian army? Perl can presumably protect some of us but what can a few of us achieve? We are still vulnerable to their arrows, their swords, their numbers.”

  “How many people are in the camp here?” Leo asked.

  Marth shrugged. “Around four hundred Vested, including children and infirm.”

  “So perhaps two hundred and fifty useful bodies?”

  “I’d say that, yes,” Marth agreed.

  “None of them fighters,” Reuth qualified, glaring at Marth. “Farmers, bootmakers, tanners, bakers . . . They can’t wield swords and wouldn’t anyway.”

  “Think about the magic that is here, though,” Leo tried. “Think hard. Does anyone have a magic that we can use against the barbarians?”

  Reuth shook her head. “Unless it hasn’t been declared or discovered, the most intriguing is someone like Tolt who can correctly predict events. The rest is all practical but harmless magic like weather reading, water divination.”

  Perl smirked. “I can assure you that half of the people here probably possess more interesting powers but won’t admit it. I have seen it in the stones.”

  “Why haven’t you ever said anything?” Reuth asked.

  Perl touched her damaged ear. “Because people are not good to one another if they know too much.” She stared at one of the stones she’d picked up, blood from her fingers wetting it, and suddenly laughed mirthlessly. “The solution is staring at us.”

  “What did you just see?” Reuth said, grabbing the pebble from her friend’s hand. “Tell us.”

  Perl was still smiling. She shook her head. “Why should I?”

  “What do you want?” Leo asked, his voice betraying his frustration with her.

  She shrugged. “What every girl wants I suppose.”

  Everyone looked at her slightly befuddled. And then Reuth scoffed. “Perl, you’ve never shown any interest at all,” she claimed, staring around at the men.

  Perl’s expression became uncharacteristically petulant. “Well, maybe now I do. Why shouldn’t I ask for this? I’m giving my life for it anyway. Who deserves it more?”

  “What in Lo’s name does she want?” Leo asked. “If you have a solution for how to make us all safe, Perl, please share it with us. I will grant you now whatever you want, if it’s within my power.”

  She laughed and clapped her hands. “Oh, it’s withi
n your power, your majesty,” she said, again adding a snide tone to the royal title. “Where is Father Cloony?”

  “Father Cloony?” Marth repeated.

  Leo looked between them in consternation. “Why do we need a priest?”

  “So we can be married immediately, majesty. I’m going to be Queen Perl as of today,” she declared. “And then you will be as trapped as I am,” she snarled.

  Evie sucked in a helplessly deep breath and then even though she didn’t mean it to happen, a small ecstatic shriek escaped her. Kilt Faris clung to her, rigid. She felt the pulse within her and forcing her eyes open she saw her lover grit his teeth as he began to groan. It was partly the pleasure of his release, she knew, but mostly terror of the final imprisonment as she sensed a pain rip through him and the bonding process begin.

  “It’s happening,” Kilt murmured, still in the midst of his ecstasy but plummeting fast into the trammeling.

  And then she too was lost. She could feel her heart pound and was sure she could feel his heart hammering above her chest. They clung to each other as Evie heard strange words enter her mind and without any control she began to recite them in a language she didn’t recognize. Meanwhile, Kilt, his mouth pulled open now in a silent scream that looked nothing akin to pleasure, held her tight, and then tighter still until she was sure she could no longer tell their bodies apart; they felt as one.

  And as one they became, their ardour spent as their connection to one another was no longer physical but mental and indeed spiritual.

  “That’s like no other finish with a woman I’ve ever experienced,” his voice murmured, muffled, near her neck. “Was it good for you too?”

  She laughed helplessly despite the gravity of their situation. She knew also that even though she was now magically shackled to Faris, he would be very hard not to love. His charm, his manner, his ability to amuse her even in dire circumstances only made her feel even more drawn to him.

  “Genevieve, I know you’re new to this but you’re not meant to laugh,” he groaned, reluctantly withdrawing from her. “You’re meant to now be telling me that I am the best lover you know.”