Royal Exile

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Royal Exile Page 38

by Fiona McIntosh


  His words seemed to calm Loethar. “You are probably right,” the barbarian agreed. He dismissed the men.

  Relief slowed Freath’s hammering heart as he watched the warriors disperse, leaving him alone with Loethar, who was twirling Piven’s collar loosely in his hand. “Let him die, my lord,” he pressed. “It’s the best solution. He will be one less concern for you.”

  Loethar nodded. “The saddest thing of all, Freath, is that I rather liked Piven. Unlike everyone else around me, he had no opinion, no hidden schemes. He was a void, yes, but one that was filled with warmth and affection…all of his attention directed toward me rather than taking from me or using me. That’s something I’ve lacked all my life,” he muttered softly, turning on his heel and striding away.

  Twenty-Six

  Freath found his Vested in their shared chamber, Clovis crouched over Kirin, wiping his blank face with a damp flannel.

  “Whatever that was about I don’t ever want to do it again,” Clovis said, not even turning.

  “I know it was hard for you but we saved lives this evening.”

  “I saw four sacrificial heads and they were probably only a smattering of the number really killed.”

  “Twenty-nine died to save hundreds more,” Freath answered, suddenly tired of being blamed for all the ills surrounding the very people he was working so hard to protect. “I have to speak with Kirin.”

  “You can try,” Clovis said, disdain coloring his voice. “He hasn’t said a word to anyone.”

  “Is he conscious?” Freath asked, approaching. The man of magic looked dead.

  “Yes, he’s conscious, but closed, if that makes any sense. I meant what I said, Master Freath. I will not do anything like that again.”

  “We’re all having to do things we’d rather not. You must find courage.”

  “I will have no part in the murder of children.”

  Freath considered this. He knew Clovis was predisposed to be deeply upset over any child’s suffering and he couldn’t blame him. Perhaps his fear could be put to use. “Then help me save a child, Clovis.”

  The diviner turned, looked at Freath with puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

  Freath sat down on the small stool next to the bed, Kirin momentarily forgotten. He hated not being able to really think this through but time was of the essence and he had none to play with. “Do you recall Piven?”

  “The imbecile?”

  “The adopted simpleton son of the Valisars, yes,” Freath said, wearily.

  Clovis shrugged. “I’ve heard about him—as I suppose most have—but I’ve only glimpsed him a few times, running around the corridors on a leash with the barbarian.”

  “Well, he’s slipped that leash. Piven went missing at around dusk this evening. He is nowhere to be found on the palace grounds and his collar was found on the edge of the woods.”

  Clovis gave a low whistle. “The last of the Valisars, eh?”

  “He is not Valisar. But in terms of perception you are probably right. Losing him would be the final tragedy. I want you to find him.”

  “What?” Clovis said, rearing back.

  “Listen to me. You have no stomach for the palace politics or Loethar’s penchant for slaughter. And a child’s life is in the balance.”

  Clovis’s brow furrowed. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I need you to leave tonight. He must be discovered before anyone else finds him.”

  “Tonight? You want me to go into the woods alone?” Clovis just stopped short of adding, “Are you mad?”

  But Freath heard it beneath the awkward silence. The aide bristled. “He is alone in the dark tonight…in the woods.”

  Clovis had the grace to look admonished.

  “Listen to me, he’s seven. He has none of his faculties. He’s just a small, confused, invalid boy. And if the wild creatures don’t have a go at him, then starvation and perhaps the cold will kill him. We’re fortunate the night is relatively mild but it’s still cool enough. Leaf-fall is beckoning and Piven has little flesh on him as it is. He will not survive a couple of days out there alone.”

  “But he could be anywhere,” Clovis replied, standing up and pacing.

  “Yes, he could, if he were more able. He’s likely still very close. I managed to stop the all-out hunt for him by the barbarians. Although it’s terrifying to have Piven loose and endangered, it could play into our hands well—but only if you can find him quickly.”

  “And what in Lo’s name am I supposed to do with him if I do find him?”

  Freath shook his head. “I don’t know, Clovis,” he said, feeling beaten. “I’m making this up as I go along. Just get him away from here. Take him as far as you can from Loethar and this hotbed of warriors.”

  “What do you plan to tell our emperor?” the Vested asked, sarcasm dripping from the final word.

  At this Freath’s lips thinned. “I shall have to tell him you went missing. That you were deeply upset by the charade with the boys’ heads and that it must have resonated too strongly with your own loss.” He shrugged. “That you disappeared.”

  “And then he’ll put a price on my head and send his warriors to hunt me down.”

  “I doubt it. As far as Loethar’s concerned you and Kirin were deliberately presented to me because of your distinct lack of talent. He feels no threat from you. Only I know what you’re capable of. Get away from here, Clovis. Put your talents to use. Go find Reuth. I know you were fond of her and if you can find Piven you can keep him safe together.” He knew introducing Reuth into the conversation would likely tip the scales in his favor. Even by lamplight he had seen Clovis’s flare of interest at the very mention of her name. “Perhaps Father Briar knows where she was heading. You must leave now. Wear your armband and you will not be questioned. In fact, go out with Father Briar’s next cartload and once you’re out of the immediate palace vicinity cut back toward the southern part of the woods. Draw an eyeline from the herb gardens. That’s where Piven was last seen. He won’t answer a call, but if he sees you, he will run to you.”

  “And what if I don’t find him?”

  Freath couldn’t hide his despair. “Just do your best. I don’t know what else to suggest.”

  “What if I get caught?”

  “Tell whomever it is that you’re acting on orders from me. I will claim that I sent you out to search because I knew that Emperor Loethar was concerned.”

  “But what if you’ve already told them I disappeared?”

  “Then improvise, Clovis! Life is not neat. Take a cue from me and make something up. We are all fighting for our lives. I’ll give you the whole of tomorrow until nightfall. Only then will I tell Loethar of your disappearance. I promise you, you are not important enough to him to chase. And if you haven’t found Piven in that time-frame, then flee south or wherever you want to. I absolve you of all other responsibility to me, to the royals, to anyone but yourself.”

  “What about Kirin?”

  “Kirin stays. I’ll take care of him.”

  “What do you think happened to him?”

  Freath sighed, and pushed his weary body up to stand. “I think Master Kirin is hiding a lot more than he’s claiming.”

  In the forest smaller birds had begun heralding the dawning of a new day; the air was filled with their joyous song.

  “I’d forgotten how loud the woods can be during the dawn chorus,” Leo commented to Lily, whom he was walking alongside.

  Kilt Faris overheard, answering, “And those of us who live within them take it for granted. We’re all guilty of the same neglect of mother nature’s brilliance.”

  “Well, I rise at the first bird’s sound each morning, so I’m always listening for her,” Lily admitted.

  Faris nodded. “Us too, but unlike Leo here, we forget to marvel at it, when we should be grateful another day has dawned and we are alive to welcome it.”

  “That sounds awfully philosophical for an outlaw,” Gavriel said.

  Jewd, who ha
d been mostly silent for the entire journey, looked sideways at Gavriel. “Do you think that because we live on the edge of the law that we are unable to appreciate Lo’s beauty?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Gavriel replied. “I suppose I’m wondering whether philosophy has any place in your world, that’s all.”

  “As much as in yours, De Vis,” Faris said gently. “We steal other people’s money. That’s all. We don’t kill. And I’m patriotic to a point. Right now I’m helping my king stay alive. I think I’ve earned the right to philosophize along with the best of them.”

  Lily glared at Gavriel and he fell silent.

  “How far are we from the stone?” Leo asked, breaking into the suddenly awkward quiet.

  “Just a mile ahead now. I’m impressed you’ve all walked through the night. We will be able to rest shortly. Jewd will go ahead and kill us a few rabbits for a meal—and not raw either. We can build a fire.”

  In spite of his bad mood Gavriel’s spirits lifted at the thought of freshly cooked meat. He began to imagine the smell of the meat roasting over the embers and he was unnerved to find that in the few moments he’d been daydreaming about the taste of cooked rabbit, he’d not only dawdled behind the pack but that Faris had fallen back as well, and now walked at his side.

  The outlaw moved closer still. Speaking quietly, he warned, “Whatever your problem is with me, De Vis, I think we should try and be civil to one another. It does not help the young king’s state of mind to have his closest friend and his new conspirator at loggerheads.”

  Gavriel took a leaf from Corbel’s book and remained silent.

  It was as though Faris could hear his thoughts. “Where is your brother, by the way? I thought you twins were very close.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Brennus. He said that he was placing all his faith in the two loyal and reliable De Vis boys.”

  “He said that?”

  Faris nodded. “And that he knew in the future he was going to ask a great deal of you both. I didn’t understand precisely what and he didn’t enlighten me but I presume that by your presence he entrusted the safety of his heir to you.”

  “That’s right, he did. He personally asked me to give my life to Leo, to be his protector.”

  “You’re awfully young for that responsibility.” As Gavriel bristled, Faris raised a hand. “Forgive me, that came out wrong. What I wanted to say is that it is very impressive that he chose someone so young. From what I could tell Brennus was a very sage, very cunning man. I don’t for a moment imagine he made that decision lightly. If he didn’t trust you and your skills implicitly he would never have handed Leo over to you. You must be good.”

  “In what regard?”

  “Weapons, I imagine, but also in strength of mind. Anyone can fight, De Vis. There are plenty of incredibly skilled swordsmen and archers but for most that’s where their minds stop working. The real champion is someone whose brain matches his speed and skill with weapons.” He paused, looked wryly at Gavriel. “That was a compliment. You can smile.”

  Gavriel regarded Faris, searching for the outlaw’s intentions. Was his praise genuine or just more of his sardonic baiting? The man’s grin looked open, however, and his warm brown eyes held a hint of mischief.

  “You don’t need to stroke my feathers,” Gavriel said, using an old saying of his father’s.

  “I wasn’t. Nor would I,” Faris answered with equal directness. “How old are you, De Vis? Sixteen, seventeen summertides?”

  “Seventeen.”

  “Seventeen. Ho, Jewd, what were you doing at seventeen?”

  The huge man scratched his beard. “Wishing I could control my huge—”

  “No, Jewd,” Faris cut in. “Apart from women, what were you thinking about? What were you doing?”

  “I worked with my father. We helped to build ships over at Merivale; I was the lackey. I was thinking a lot about ale and women—not much else.”

  “So you were doing as your father told you?”

  “I did what everyone told me. I was the lowest in the pecking order.”

  “Lily, what were you doing at seventeen? How old are you, anyway?”

  “None of your business, Kilt Faris,” she admonished. “But when I was seventeen my life was not much different to how my new friends found me. I was living in the forest with my father, drying herbs, making healing salves, living quietly.”

  Faris nodded. “Me, I was at Cremond in the Academy,” he said.

  “You?”

  “Ah, De Vis, judgments made too soon are often wrong. Yes, the despised outlaw you see before you was once a budding scholar.”

  “In what?” Gavriel asked, unable to hide his disdain.

  “Thaumaturgy.”

  “You’re not empowered, surely?” Leo said, turning, obviously surprised.

  “Not a skerrick of magic in my bones. But I was always fascinated by the notion of the Vested. Anyway, that was a long time ago. I attended the Academy under a false name—my parents never knew.”

  “Why?” Leo asked, before Gavriel could.

  Faris shrugged. “I don’t think I ever really wanted to be a full-time scholar. I did enjoy study but I couldn’t maintain the concentration needed. The false name gave me the opportunity to get out whenever I wanted. I never quite got used to the rules and eventually I wanted freedom. But at seventeen I had no responsibilities and was knee deep in study.”

  “What’s your point?” Gavriel asked.

  “My point, De Vis, is that you are doing an extraordinary thing at seventeen. Leo has to be brave; he’s king. You don’t. But here you are, rushing into danger, not giving so much as a mote’s concern for your own safety or future. Dare I say you’re stirring rebellion against the marauding army that has destroyed the entire Set. I admire you.”

  Gavriel was lost for words. Praise was the last thing he had expected from Faris. Leo grinned and Lily gave him a shy, brief glance before turning away and pushing forward.

  “And now I’ve embarrassed you, have I?” Faris continued. “My apology, I simply wanted you to understand that we are on the same side right now.” He lowered his voice so only Gavriel could hear him now. “We have no argument, you and I. So don’t pick one. Here, keep these on you,” he said, handing Gavriel what looked like small shiny nuts.

  “What are these?”

  Faris grinned. “Real magic. Suck one if you’re ever under genuine threat. I know better than most how difficult hiding one’s identity is.”

  Gavriel looked at them quizzically.

  The outlaw looked amused. “It’s just a safeguard for you and Leo. Each one lasts a day. Don’t be reckless with them—they’re all I have.”

  He moved ahead briskly to join the others, souring Gavriel again by walking next to Lily. “Just past this next sentinel of trees and we’re there,” he said to everyone.

  They finally arrived into a clearing surrounded by a thick overwhelming presence of oaks. The air was warmer here, and denser, since they’d been walking downhill for some time. The trees created a natural amphitheater and sitting in the middle of the “stage” was the sacred stone Gavriel had heard so much about. He found himself holding his breath as he watched Leo walk reverently toward it.

  “It’s not very spectacular, is it?” Lily whispered alongside him.

  Gavriel shook his head to be polite but the truth was he was mesmerized by it. Its simplicity alone took his breath away. He too had anticipated a grand throne on which the Valisar Kings would seat themselves in accepting the Crown of Penraven. He had certainly not expected a hewn slab of silver branstone, resting in very uncomplicated fashion on top of two other slabs. As the sun’s rays hit the branstone, its silver flecks sparkled.

  He watched Leo glide his hand over the smooth, sparkling surface and he was sure they shared the same thought about how each of the great Valisar Kings had knelt at this place and sworn their lives, their duty, their blood to Penraven.

  Leo looked up, his eyes im
mediately searching out Faris. “What should I do?”

  “Nothing, yet. As I understand it from my readings at the Academy, all the Kings have taken their oaths at evening twilight—you know that twilight is considered the most magical time of the day.”

  “Why is that?” Lily asked, walking up to the stone.

  Gavriel could see that Faris was in his element. “Because, Lily, it is considered a time that is neither day or night. It is not fully light, but neither is it fully dark. It is a sort of nether light, if you will—a nether world, even.” He smiled and began to walk toward her, each word bringing him another step closer. “They say this is the time when spirits can enter our land, when magic is at its most potent, when worlds kiss.” As he said the final word he leaned far too close to her for Gavriel’s liking.

  He slipped the seeds into his shirt pocket. “And so Leo must make his oath at this evening’s twilight?” he asked, breaking whatever spell Faris was weaving over Lily. The girl, he noticed, was smiling softly and flirtatiously at the outlaw.

  “Yes,” Faris replied, turning to encompass everyone in the conversation. “But he must make it alone and we must respect that. There can be no witnesses.”

  “Why alone?” Leo had not stopped stroking the glittering stone.

  Faris shrugged. “It is a private commitment you’re making, a private communion with your god. And, my young king, most importantly, there may well be a private parley with Cyrena the infamous serpent.” He smiled at Leo. “You must wait until the moon is fully risen, though. If Cyrena will show herself it will be during the darkness of night, lit only by her lamp in the sky. And only if you are entirely alone.”

  Gavriel felt exasperated. How was this man so annoyingly knowledgeable as well as infuriatingly self-possssed? And yet even though he wanted to he couldn’t take offense. If anything, Faris was being helpful. But this seemed to irritate him all the more.

 

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