Loethar took a step forward and Vulpan cringed. “Please, my lord, I’m sorry. It all happened so fast. I fell off my horse, men were being killed. It’s only now I…Forgive me.”
Loethar grabbed Vulpan by the shirtfront and hauled him forward. “What do you need to tell me?” he said slowly, quietly.
Vulpan’s fear intensified; his face slackened and drained of color. “The taste of a man’s blood has just come back to me.”
Loethar gripped him tighter. Vulpan was clearly struggling to breathe. “Whose?” he demanded.
Vulpan pointed at his throat and Loethar flung him away. The Vested yelped as he hit the ground.
“Whose?” Loethar asked again, looming over the man.
“The archer. He was the man whose blood was found on the boulder.”
The half-brothers stared at each other. “That was Kilt Faris?” Stracker queried. “I never saw him properly, curse him!”
“We can’t be sure,” Loethar warned. “But it seems the priest was valuable to him or his men. The archer, describe him.”
“I can’t, my lord, I really didn’t get a look at him,” Vulpan quailed. “My magic is not about vision. It’s about presence. The man whose blood I tasted was definitely here.”
Stracker looked away from Vulpan with disgust. “He was young, I know that much. Sandy-haired. Clean shaven.”
Loethar scowled. “Too young for Faris, then, by our estimates. So he was one of Faris’s band. Do we have any descriptions of Faris?”
Stracker shook his head. “People whose palms we’ve laid money into, who claim to have met him, describe him differently. One minute dark-haired, the next he’s fair or bald. The man’s a starren.”
At the mention of the color-changing six-legged reptile from the plains Stracker’s and Loethar’s gazes met and locked. “Perhaps you actually had the infamous Kilt Faris in your grasp, Stracker,” Loethar said.
The big man nodded, his dirt-stained tatua twisted with disappointment. “Perhaps I did. Has there ever been mention that Faris is Vested?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Loethar admitted. “But we know the Vested like to keep their powers secret. What was his skill?”
Vulpan spoke up. “He claimed to predict the weather.”
Loethar smiled grimly. “We know that’s a lie.”
Vulpan seemed to agree, his expression thoughtful. “He tasted a lot like a woman I have tasted. I can’t remember who, but she will come to me. You know, the more I taste—and my list is still fledgling, my lord—the more I’m beginning to realize I can discern the level of power. Everyone’s blood tastes different, of course, but I am noticing a pattern in the tastes of people with closely aligned powers. Master Kirin, for example, is rich with power.” Vulpan hesitated as he saw Loethar and Stracker exchange a glance. “The majority of people I have tasted can fit into perhaps,” he continued, making a tutting sound as he considered, “perhaps three other levels. Pastor Jeves and Kirin Felt sit well away from the others, on a scale of their own. Very potent powers.”
“I see. And the woman?”
“Lily Felt?”
“If she is his wife. He certainly had no wife at the palace.”
Vulpan shrugged. “She’s a mystery. I tasted nothing that connected her to any of the other Vested and yet I felt the touch of her magic. It was very strange, almost…” He paused, licking his lips. “She showed no discernible taste at all of magic, curiously, but I know she was empowered because I felt the touch of her magic.” He raised a hand. “She healed a terrible scald, taking away the pain immediately. I told her I’d be mentioning her to you.”
“We are hunting Felt now, so presumably we will pick up this curious wife alongside him,” Loethar confirmed. He gave a grimace. “And he’s been around us for anni with us thinking he had so little magic.”
“I have a personal score to settle with Faris and his men now,” Stracker said.
“You two can take turns on the horse. Let’s head for Francham. We’ll make a decision there.”
“You haven’t told us why you’re here,” Stracker commented. “And all alone?”
“I have plenty to tell you,” Loethar said, glancing at Vulpan. “It can wait. Let’s go.”
They’d ridden as high as they could possibly go with the two horses.
“Stop here, Leo. I need to see to Kilt.”
“At least he’s groaning. We know he’s alive,” Leo said, halting his horse. “Shall I let the horses go?”
“Aye. They’re no good to us here. Let them amble back down and find some water. I’m sure whoever finds them will be very glad to give them a home.”
Leo helped Jewd lower Kilt to the ground, then began unpacking the horses. Without being asked, he handed Jewd a water sack.
Jewd took out the stopper and held it to Kilt’s mouth. “Here, drink. Slowly. That’s it.” He dribbled water between his friend’s lips. Immediately, Kilt began to cough and Jewd gingerly lifted his head.
“Oh, Lo, my head!” Kilt groaned, but he drank thirstily.
“Slowly, Kilt,” Jewd warned again, “or you’ll choke. Anywhere else hurt?”
“Ribs, shoulder. I came down on one side.” Kilt opened his eyes to slits. “Are my orders worth nothing anymore?” he demanded.
“A pinch of salt when I think they’re stupid,” Jewd replied.
“You risked his life?”
“Aye, to save your scrawny neck!”
“Jewd, so help me…”
Leo knelt down beside Kilt. “I’m my own man now. You’ve got me this far but now I’m going to be making my own decisions, so stop talking about me as though I’m either not here or some sort of child you can push around. Remember who you talk to.” He glared at them both, defying them to challenge him.
The king looked annoyed when both men started laughing. Kilt immediately clutched at his shoulder, wincing. “Got to get something to tie my shoulder up, your majesty. Don’t crowd me.”
“You know, this isn’t funny. I killed a couple of men back there.”
“Do you want a medal, your highness?” Kilt asked, his voice still dry and raspy.
“You can’t have it both ways, your majesty,” Jewd added.
Leo’s lips thinned. “I just want you both to accept that I am now old enough to carve my own path. I am also a Valisar.”
“And Valisars don’t take orders?” Kilt queried.
Leo gave him a look of disdain. “Valisars are kings. I have to start acting like one if you want us to rule again one day.”
Kilt struggled to sit up, aided by Jewd. “I am grateful to you—both of you—but it was stupid to risk your life,” he said, staring at Leo.
“Kilt, we have to be prepared to risk my life if we’re serious about me claiming back the throne. You’ve got to stop believing you can protect me from all danger. Jewd understands, or he wouldn’t have let me come.”
Jewd put both hands against his chest in defense. “I couldn’t stop you. You blackmailed me.”
“And lucky I did or we wouldn’t have achieved what we have.”
“I’d have thought of something,” Kilt said.
Now it was Jewd’s and Leo’s turn to laugh. “Get over yourself, Faris,” Jewd said, “or I’ll break your other shoulder. Now let’s take a look and see how bad this is.”
“Don’t touch it,” Kilt warned.
Jewd laughed. “Have I told you, Leo, what a baby our trusted leader is when it comes to pain?”
“I just don’t want you to touch it, all right?” Kilt sneered.
Leo grinned. “Shall I hold him down, Jewd?”
“Looks like you’ll have to,” Jewd said archly.
“I mean it,” Kilt threatened. “Just let it be and…”
“Kilt!” Jewd reprimanded. “Am I going to have to knock you out again myself? It won’t be good for your fat head if I do. That shoulder needs to be bound. If the joint has slipped, it has to be put back into place. If the—”
“All right, all
right! Do it!” Kilt grumbled. “Tell me you’ve got some bermine in that wretched satchel of yours, though.”
“You’re lucky. I never go anywhere without it.”
“Is that the stuff you used for my leg?” Leo asked.
“That’s it. We used to buy it but now Lily makes up her own version, which is far more potent. Here, drink it.” Jewd pulled the tiny stopper from a small bottle and handed it to Kilt.
Leo winced. “Horrible stuff.”
“Better than the pain,” Kilt said and took a draft, his face wrinkling at the taste. “Like a thousand farts,” he groaned.
“Go and check we’re still all clear,” Jewd said, sensing Kilt wanted the king gone for a minute. Still grinning at Kilt’s fart comment, Leo nodded and set off.
“Thanks,” Kilt said. “I don’t need him seeing me at my shrieking best.”
“Has it worked yet?”
“I want to say no.”
“All right then, let’s see.” Jewd removed Kilt’s shirt, glancing only briefly at the familiar birthmark beneath his shoulder blade as he focused on the injury. “Good news or bad news first?”
“Get on with it!”
“We have to put right your shoulder joint.”
Kilt groaned. “And the good news?”
Without warning Jewd manipulated his friend’s arm and Kilt yelped as his shoulder slipped back into its correct position.
“The good news is, it’s back in,” Jewd said, grinning.
“Oh, very funny,” Kilt choked out, breathing hard and wincing.
“Here, keep the bermine. I reckon you’ll need it. We have to make up a sling.”
Leo returned. “All clear. What’s happened?”
“His shoulder was out,” Jewd replied.
“And now it’s back,” Kilt finished.
Jewd winked at Leo. “And he didn’t even scream. How’s your leg?”
“I hate the limp but at least I don’t need the stick anymore.”
“Told you it would get better. Is there pain?”
“Nothing to scream about,” Leo replied.
“Get that sling onto me,” Kilt demanded, seeing that Jewd had finished turning a large kerchief into a workable hammock. “And let’s get out of here.”
Later, as they rested briefly for Kilt’s sake, he spoke to them both in a grave tone. “I haven’t said thank you.”
“For disobeying you?” Jewd said.
“For action that probably saved my life.”
“They didn’t know who you were, Kilt,” Jewd assured.
Kilt nodded. “They can add things up, though, my friend. A limping archer, a huge man? Why would they appear out of nowhere to ambush the emperor’s men in order to rescue a clergyman? No, we’ll have pricked their curiosity. And we can’t discount the fact that Vulpan was present. According to what Freath told us, once he’s tasted your blood, he can recognize you again without having to taste you. Do you understand?”
Leo and Jewd shook their heads, after glancing, confused, at each other.
Kilt pointed at Leo’s leg. “He’s tasted you, your majesty. We cannot overlook the possibility that amidst all that confusion he recognized you.”
Dawning spread across their faces. “But he doesn’t know me! Doesn’t know who I truly am!” Leo protested.
“No, that’s right. But if what Freath says is true, then he will have recognized the blood of a man from the north. They don’t know which one, but they know you were one of the outlaw band and that’s all they’ll need. They now know that our men were rescuing Pastor Jeves. We know Loethar is too smart for his own good. He won’t necessarily arrive at the conclusion that they had Kilt Faris in their clutches but they’ll know they had someone who matters to the outlaw band. I reckon they’ll now intensify their search.”
Jewd was nodding. “Blind me! This is why you lead us. I just don’t think this far ahead.”
“What about Lily?” Leo asked.
Kilt sighed. His expression became still more shrouded with gloom. “She’s obviously using this ‘marriage’ as a cover but as Stracker’s onto it I presume she and Felt will have to keep up the pretense in order to keep themselves safe. Especially as Lily has somehow passed herself off as Vested.” Both his companions opened their mouths but he continued, cutting off their questions. “Don’t ask how because I don’t know, but she seems to have Vulpan tricked. He claims he’s felt the benefit of her magical touch.” Kilt shook his head. “For now we have to let her go or we could compromise her disguise. I think Felt will take her back to Brighthelm.”
“I’m sorry for you,” Jewd said quietly.
“Don’t be. This is all my fault,” Kilt replied, his anger not well disguised. “Come on, we have to get back to the hideout. We must warn our band that imperial guards are going to be stepping up their search for us.”
Thirty-One
Arriving at the entry to Francham, Loethar allowed Vulpan’s horse to move slightly ahead so he could speak to Stracker in relative privacy. “People don’t need to know I’m here. We want no fuss.”
Stracker shrugged. “I can’t stop them recognizing you.”
“I’ve grown a beard, I’m deliberately wearing rough clothes. Besides, they won’t be looking for me.”
“What’s the secrecy for?”
“A precaution. I don’t want Valya knowing I’m here, for instance.”
Stracker smiled unkindly. “Has wedded bliss worn off, brother?”
“It was never present,” Loethar replied. “Our child died,” he added as bluntly.
Stracker was unmoved. “Son or daughter?”
“A girl.”
His half-brother made a sound of disdain. “Then it doesn’t matter, does it?”
Loethar bit back on the retort that sprang easily to his lips. “I suppose not,” he lied.
“Is that why you’re running away?”
“I’ve asked Valya to leave.”
“Banished the bitch, eh? Excellent news. So that’s why you’re here.”
“That and a couple of other things.” He moved ahead of Stracker. “I’ll make my own arrangements but I shall see you later.”
“Where?”
“You know this town better than me. Somewhere quiet.”
“How about the two-mile marker to the west?”
Loethar frowned. “In the forest?”
“You said quiet,” Stracker said, shrugging.
“But I didn’t say dangerous.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“Shouldn’t I?”
Stracker grinned. “Tell me now then. I don’t care either way.”
“I would prefer you to have privacy when I give you this information.”
“So cagey, Loethar, one would think you were sensitive to my feelings.”
“In this instance I might be.”
“Then I’ll see you at the two-mile marker. It’s quiet, private…and safe.”
Loethar nodded, holding his half-brother’s gaze. “When?”
“Twilight.”
“I’ll see you there.”
“What about Vulpan?”
Loethar shook his head. “Right now he’s your concern. But from tomorrow we’re going to use him to track down the Faris gang once and for all.” He saw soldiers—Greens, mainly—melting out of the throng of people, having recognized their general. Loethar did not want to be seen by them. “Until later, keep my secret.”
“Happy to, brother,” Stracker said to himself as he watched the emperor blend into the busy Francham main street.
It was nearing sunset when Gavriel and Elka led their horses out of the eastern foothills. They could see the activity of Francham ahead, chimneys smoking and lanterns beginning to be lit across the busy community. The town twinkled like a fairytale oasis in the gradually falling light, the Dragons-back Mountains rearing to the north and the forest a dark blanket to the west.
“Lo’s wrath!” Gavriel remarked. “You told me it was a town. This looks l
ike a small city.”
Elka was shaking her head. “If I wasn’t seeing it for myself I wouldn’t believe it,” she admitted. “Ten anni ago it was little more than a large village on the verge of becoming a town.”
“Well, it looks like it’s a thriving spot now.”
“My brothers have been through here. They said it was a busy place but I think in their usual way they’ve understated the fact!”
Gavriel looked at her. “I know what you’re going to say next.”
She gave him a superior glare. “Then I don’t need to say it.”
“Oh, but you must. I get such satisfaction out of knowing you so well.”
“Not as well as you think,” Elka cautioned.
Gavriel looked appropriately abashed and tried to change the subject. “So, want to spend another night under the stars with me?”
“And there I was thinking you’d never ask,” she answered wryly.
His change in subject had failed miserably.
She seemed to notice his discomfort. “Listen,” she began, losing all the sarcasm in her voice. “You know that I don’t like being so obvious.”
“Of course.”
“So sleeping in the forest is far more alluring to me than a night at an inn where everyone wants to compare their height to mine or have a drink with me, or worse, arm wrestle me.”
He laughed. “I’d tell them not to bother. You always win.”
“And lose me a fortune?” she asked.
“Save you a night of tedium, more like.”
“So we’re agreed. We’ll stay in the forest?”
“I can’t think of a better place. I really hate soft beds and ale and roasted meats,” he said sarcastically.
“Gavriel—”
“Well done.”
She looked at him quizzically.
“That’s the first time you’ve called me by my real name without stumbling or wincing.”
“I had to get used to it.”
“I know,” he said, a sad note in his voice. “And I’m grateful for it. The moment the Quirin spoke my name I knew it was right.”
“Have you remembered more?”
“I don’t think there’s any more to know.” He shrugged. “I was escorting a king to safety from the threat of the barbarian warlord Loethar, now the emperor. We got as far as the outlaw band in the north led by an arrogant swine called Kilt Faris—”
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