Tyrant’s Blood

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Tyrant’s Blood Page 46

by Fiona McIntosh


  But Leo was too quick for all of them. He closed the gap between himself and the prisoner alarmingly fast. Gavriel watched with horror as the king paused only momentarily to draw Faeroe from its scabbard.

  “Leo, no!” he yelled, chasing after him with no explanation to the shocked onlookers, determined that Loethar should not die like this.

  Leo wasn’t hearing anything, though. Gavriel, even running as hard as he was, knew he couldn’t catch him in time. Even as he watched, Leo pulled back his sword arm, just steps away from the man leaning against the tree.

  Loethar was helpless. Everything seemed to be happening so slowly he had time to take in that his killer was young, even time to notice that his death would be meted by the Valisar family sword he’d read about in the royal library. He recognized it, even from a distance, with its distinctive serpent snaking around the hilt. It was a fitting way to die, he decided as he adjusted his position so that he could at least look the young man in the eye when Faeroe descended. Without having to be told, he knew his executioner would be Leonel; no longer the boy, but a man. Curiously, his final thought, as death descended, was of Freath. Freath, his aide, his most regular companion…even his friend…had duped him. It was a shocking realization. Freath had duped them all. Loyal to the Valisars all along, he had obviously led an audacious and dangerous double life.

  And as the dying sun’s rays glinted off Faeroe’s blade, he smiled, privately congratulating the manservant for his daring and cunning.

  But neither he nor Leo had calculated on the speed, long reach and powerful body of an angry Davarigon. Loethar watched with surprise as Elka appeared from behind the tree. It was too late for Leo to change his course and she knocked him over with ease; it occurred to Loethar it was as though she were swatting a fly.

  He heard the would-be-king go down with a loud groan as Elka rolled over him, wrenching the sword and flinging it to the side as though it weighed nothing.

  “Not like that, your highness,” she said, agilely rolling to her feet in a single move that astonished Loethar. “I presume you are the king?”

  She hauled Leo to his feet. Enraged, he instinctively swung a fist at her that she nimbly caught mid-air. Loethar couldn’t help but be amused by her protection. He was sure he didn’t deserve it.

  “Forgive me, King Leonel,” she growled, staring down at him. “But you will thank me for this later, I’m sure.”

  Would he? I wonder, Loethar thought, enjoying the spectacle.

  “Get your hands off me, you filthy—”

  “Leo!” Gavriel said sharply, arrving at the young man’s side.

  “Whoever this Davarigon bitch is that you’ve brought, she will unhand me. Now!”

  “Not until you calm down,” Gavriel replied.

  Loethar saw that he masked his displeasure at Leo’s offensive language. He glanced at Elka as a very tall man approached; she seemed unmoved by the Valisar’s insult.

  “You’re very fortunate the men didn’t fill her full of arrows, de Vis!” the newcomer said. “What is she thinking attacking Leo and who is this man?” He swung around to regard Loethar, who was suddenly enjoying watching the theater of these outlaws unfold. “Kilt is asking.” He looked back and frowned. “He’s been badly injured but I don’t know what’s wrong with him—he seemed determined to come out and see for himself but now he’s having to be helped back into the camp. He’s really unwell.” He turned back to Elka and Gavriel. “So you’ll have to tell me instead.”

  Elka looked hard at the king; once again Loethar was reminded that the Davarigon believed she answered to no one. He liked that about her and it attested to what he’d always believed about the mountain tribe: that they kept one foot in Set territory and the other firmly in the mountains, as though sovereign territory. Elka was Davarigon first, Set after.

  “Your majesty,” Elka said, releasing Leo’s hand, ignoring Loethar’s scoffing sound at her use of the title. “I apologize for treating you this way, but, as you can see, we have brought you Emperor Loethar for your punishment…” Her gaze narrowed. “Your calm and calculated punishment,” she added.

  “Loethar?” the big man echoed, swinging around.

  Loethar gave a good attempt at a sarcastic bow, using only his aching head and a sardonic smile. “Tell Faris I can’t wait to meet him.”

  The outlaw’s attention flicked to Gavriel for confirmation. “Is this a jest?” he asked, shocked.

  “Jewd, it’s Loethar, I can assure you.”

  Jewd. Loethar stored the name. Perhaps it had been Faris they’d injured with the arrow. What wouldn’t he give to have the blood-smeller now!

  Jewd now looked both horrified and fascinated. “Kilt is going to love this! How did you capture him?”

  “It’s a long story,” Elka replied.

  Gavriel looked at Leo. “You need to think on this, your majesty,” he said. Loethar could tell he was deliberately using the title to impress upon Leo his important role now as a king, not just a man with a grudge. “Believe me, I have had to overcome my own desires to slit his throat for the murder of my father. You now have the opportunity to ignore revenge and instead deliver royal justice for the innocent people of the Set who died under his army’s sword. That is what both our fathers would demand of us.”

  Loethar was further impressed. He watched the youngster shake his head clear of all the rage and unsettling emotion.

  Leo nodded at Gavriel, then impaled Loethar with his gaze. “He is to be guarded day and night. Jewd, can he be secured?”

  “Of course, your highness,” Jewd said, clearly picking up on Gavriel’s language.

  “Then let’s get him shackled.” Leo began to move away, seemingly too disgusted to look upon the emperor.

  “Your majesty!” Elka called after him.

  Leo stopped but did not turn. “Yes?”

  “He is injured.”

  “So what?”

  “We would treat an animal better in the mountains.”

  “None of you would permit me to put him out of his misery, which is how we normally treat a badly injured animal,” Leo snarled, impressing Loethar. He turned now to face Elka. “Forgive my insult earlier. I can see you are a friend of Gavriel’s. But please don’t ever believe that gives you the right to treat me in a familiar fashion.”

  It was obvious to all that Gavriel wanted to step in but, even knowing her for just a short while, Loethar was sure the Davarigon was too proud to have him fight her battles.

  She didn’t take a step back, he was glad to note. If he’d had the strength, he would have clapped Elka and de Vis for their honor. “King or not, your highness, I will always treat all men fairly. This man deserves to answer for his sins but no one here would condone either his brutal slaughter or torture at the hands of the untended injuries. I believe, your highness, that compassion is what should set the Denovians above their barbarian conquerors.”

  Loethar didn’t agree but he enjoyed watching her noble words sting Leo.

  “As you wish,” he said, after a difficult pause during which he regarded first Elka, then Gavriel, and finally the Davarigon again. He moved away without another word but to the sound of Loethar laughing at his back.

  Roddy wiped the sweat from his eyes as he straightened. He looked at the sad sight of Sergius’s broken body lying atop the kindling. It had taken them all day to build the pyre and Ravan had only just reverently carried his friend’s once frail, now twisted body, to lay it in readiness for burning.

  They’d worked in silence for most of the day, gathering the driftwood and what ever they could find to burn at the top of the cliff, both lost in their thoughts, neither eating but taking regular swigs from a flask of water that Ravan had brought down to the beach. Roddy noticed the tide was moving in.

  “Have we enough time?” he asked, his first words in an age.

  Ravan nodded reassurance. “We will light the pyre at twilight.”

  “Why not now?”

  “It is said t
hat twilight is a most magical time. The moment just before the sun rises and moments after she leaves us for the day—those times are when magic can be at its highest potency.”

  Roddy was fascinated despite his fatigue. “I didn’t know that.”

  Ravan continued. “And we are in a position to wield a great magic, Roddy, because Sergius’s spirit will be released where the land meets the water. It is believed that this meeting point of the elements also heightens powers. We are giving ourselves the best possible chance of success.” He looked out to the horizon, where the sun hung very low in the sky, burning a deep pink, spreading crimson slashes across the water.

  “Then let us enjoy your friend’s last sunset,” Roddy said.

  The two new friends sat shoulder to shoulder on the sand and waited in companionable silence.

  Roddy finally felt he belonged.

  Thirty-Nine

  Leo and Jewd squatted by Kilt as he retched into the undergrowth, both desperate to give him the news. Gavriel hung back, unsure of his place here.

  “What’s happening, Kilt?” Jewd asked.

  Kilt groaned, wiped his mouth with a linen. “Search me. I feel light-headed. Perhaps I drank too much of Lily’s brew.”

  Gavriel flinched at the mention of her name. “Where is Lily?”

  Leo answered for them. “She’s safe, we think…but she’s gone missing.”

  This shocked Gavriel in two ways; that she was missing suggested alarm but Leo’s admission meant Lily was still presumably living with the outlaws. “Missing? What’s happened?”

  “We all have long stories to share, Gav,” Leo assured. “The short answer to this is that we think she’s with Kirin Felt.”

  Gavriel stared at the king for a moment as the name filtered up from his memories. “Felt? Freath’s aide?”

  Leo nodded. “The very one.” He raised a hand. “Don’t ask why—I’ll explain all later. She was meant to be here, meant to be marrying Kilt but instead she’s having to pretend to be married to Kirin Felt, and she’s traveling with him now, as his wife. We don’t know the details, other than the fact that the ruse has kept her safe.”

  It was too much information to take in at once. Marrying Faris! But masquerading as Felt’s wife!

  “Be careful what you say,” Leo warned, looking over his shoulder to where Loethar sat propped in the far distance. “He knows none of this, of course. And we must protect her.”

  Kilt groaned again and turned away, dry retching.

  “You only took a single dose of Lily’s brew,” Jewd assured. “I checked with Tern. He used the correct amount.”

  “I know,” Kilt said, wiping his mouth again, looking ashen. “I don’t understand it but this retching is killing my shoulder and ribs. Anyway, enough of this! Who is this prisoner?”

  “It’s Loethar,” Leo said.

  Kilt looked at the king as though he had spoken in gibberish. “Pardon?”

  Leo nodded at Gavriel. “It’s true,” Gavriel explained. “The man sitting against the tree is the emperor.”

  Kilt blanched, staggering again. Jewd, frowning, caught him.

  “I have so much to tell you but let me just briefly summarize how we came upon him,” Gavriel suggested. He recounted their passage into the forest of Penraven via Francham and how they stumbled upon Stracker attempting to murder his brother.

  “You saved him?” Leo asked, aghast.

  “Well,” Gavriel began laconically, “I figured Loethar’s rule was better than Stracker’s. Until I knew that you were alive and we had the chance to put a Valisar on the throne, I thought it best to stick with Loethar’s more peaceful leadership. Under Stracker I felt brutality would break out across all the realms.”

  “Compasses,” Leo corrected with disgust.

  Jewd glanced at Kilt, frowning at how pale and shocked his friend looked. It didn’t make sense. Kilt had arrived into the camp barking orders and ignoring his injuries. Now he looked beaten, half the man he had been an hour ago. Worse, he looked frightened and he was saying nothing.

  He’d have to do the talking for him. “What’s happened to Stracker?”

  “I don’t know,” Gavriel admitted. “Elka’s effective when she decides to go into a fray swinging. It was like that when she rescued me from Stracker’s thugs all those years ago. I didn’t even know what was in the undergrowth but her arrows pierced their bodies pretty effectively.”

  “The arrow,” Leo murmured.

  Gavriel glanced at him but continued. “She didn’t kill anyone this time, so Stracker will have a sore head and a lot of anger when he realizes Loethar got away.”

  “He’s planning to seize power, you say?”

  “That’s my impression,” Gavriel replied. “There was certainly no love lost between them. I’m gathering that the trigger of their official falling out was their mother’s death. You can’t imagine two more different people; from what I recall Loethar is subtle and cunning, full of secrets. As you can tell he has a quiet presence. And Stracker is all noise and brutality; he actually likes killing. I don’t think Loethar enjoys it particularly, but he’s not scared of taking a ruthless approach.”

  Kilt shook his head, finally speaking. He sounded so weak to Jewd. “But why did you bring Loethar here? Of all people, the emperor.”

  Now Gavriel looked stumped. He sighed. “I was so close to my goal, I wasn’t going to turn back and re-think my plan. My priority was to find Leo. Loethar was a complication. As much as I would have happily watched him swing from that tree, Elka persuaded me that we should intervene. Personally, I couldn’t care less if Loethar and Stracker kill each other but in those few moments we had to make a judgment.” He shrugged. “As I said, Loethar alive is possibly more value to the Set than dead. Besides, I think I wanted to give Leo the decision…and the opportunity, if he chose, to have Loethar executed.”

  Kilt groaned, ran a hand through his hair. “A complication indeed.” He looked at Jewd. “Lily comes first for me, although she’s even more vulnerable with Stracker in charge.”

  “No, she’s not,” Leo said, pacing. “If my memory serves me right, Stracker wouldn’t even bother with someone like Lily. He’ll have far bigger things on his mind.”

  “I agree,” Gavriel said. “In my opinion he’s going to tear this forest apart looking for Loethar. He’ll take him dead or alive but he’ll want his half-brother in custody. Lily won’t even register in his mind. If she’s with Felt, I presume they’ll head back to the palace, will they?”

  Kilt shrugged. “Felt won’t know that Freath is dead yet. I know Lily won’t let him near here. So I imagine he’ll want to go back to Brighthelm.”

  “Then she’s relatively safe for now, Kilt,” Jewd said, picking up on Gavriel’s thoughts. “She’s probably safer there than here, to be honest.”

  Kilt considered this and nodded slowly, seemingly painfully.

  “Let’s go and talk to Loethar,” Jewd offered. “If he and Stracker are now enemies, he’s probably prepared to tell us how his kin is going to react.”

  Kilt shook his head. “I can’t.”

  Jewd stared at his friend. “What do you mean, you can’t? Come on, Kilt, get yourself together.”

  “I’m not well, old friend. You’ll have to do it.”

  Jewd shook his head. He needed Kilt to show the leadership he was famed for, especially in present company. What’s more, he needed Kilt’s sharp mind. There would be no greater opponent to Loethar than his friend. And all the new magic he’d just learned his friend possessed was all the more reason to have him alongside.

  “J-Jewd—” Kilt began but Jewd was already hauling him to his feet.

  “Come on. I’ll carry you if I have to, although I rather think you would prefer if the emperor saw you strong and in command.” He simply couldn’t understand his friend. He could feel Kilt trembling. And was that a stutter he’d heard? Kilt had possessed a stammer when he was a very young boy, he recalled. But it had been a very long time since he’
d heard it. Perhaps he’d imagined it just now?

  Gavriel stopped them as they all moved forward. “Well, let’s agree on what our attitude toward him is. Leo?”

  Leo looked at Gavriel with surprise. “You have to ask?”

  “I do.” He stared long and hard at his old friend. “Consider your answer carefully, your majesty. This is not a decision you make as an aggrieved son, or even as a royal in exile. You make this decision with a coldness in your heart, as your father would…as a Valisar king.”

  Everyone fell silent, staring between the two companions.

  Leo’s eyes narrowed. “I want him dead…” He stopped, sighing silently.

  “But…?” Gavriel prompted.

  Leo grimaced. “But I can’t pay attention to what my heart burns for. I will have my revenge another day.”

  Gavriel looked relieved. “Good, your majesty. So?” He glanced at Kilt, who gave an almost imperceptible nod of approval.

  “We make use of him,” Leo continued.

  “How?” Jewd asked.

  “Bait!” Leo finished, looking at Gavriel, who smiled. “We keep him alive for now. He’s injured, so he’s not going anywhere on his own. He needs us to stay alive. But now he has two enemies—me and his half-brother. I’m sure he’ll be happy to comply with whomever’s plans hurts either of us—and he probably doesn’t care in which order.”

  “You’re right in that,” Gavriel admitted. “The oddest part of this is that he trusts me. I don’t really know why because I will happily queue behind Leo to plunge a blade into his heart. But there’s something there and, if you’ll permit it, I think I’m the best person to handle any negotiation with him. Or, better than me, Elka. He genuinely trusts Elka.”

  “Do you?” Leo sniped.

  “You have to ask?” Gavriel said, genuinely surprised. “She has been my constant companion for ten anni. She not only ensured I healed properly physically but it was her idea to help me regain my memories by first visiting the Quirin at the convent, and then bringing me into Penraven. And even when she wanted to return to the mountains, she put my needs first and came with me to Francham. Even there, when we thought that might be our parting point, she agreed to accompany me into the forest.” Jewd could see that Gavriel was working to keep anger out of his voice. “This is loyalty.”

 

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