Tyrant’s Blood

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Tyrant’s Blood Page 47

by Fiona McIntosh


  “No, de Vis,” Kilt said softly. “It’s more. It’s love.”

  Gavriel glared at him. “Don’t mock me, Faris, so help me, I’ll—”

  Kilt struggled to his feet. “I am not mocking you. I have discovered love; you’ve obviously spent so long away from your own kind that you don’t know how to recognize it. Elka is not helping you out of a sense of loyalty. I’d wager everything on the fact that this woman, giant though she is, has fallen for a Penravian noble.” He grinned through obvious pain; it was a kind gesture. “But then I suspect you’ve known this, de Vis, and don’t need me to point it out. Come, let us talk to the usurper. I suggest you lead us, Leo. Let him see the true king, in control and not at all cowed by his presence.”

  Leo nodded. “Let’s go.”

  Only Jewd noticed that Kilt hung back.

  Kilt had been in enough scrapes to discern the difference between the sensations of wounds, and the sensation of magic. What he was feeling now frightened him. It was deep, primeval…it was instinctive.

  He needed to get away, but Jewd was leading him closer. Could he do this? Was he strong enough? He was sure his magic was. He took a deep breath and opened himself up to his own; it flooded him with warmth and a sizzling power. He had only felt like this once before—in childhood—and he had never allowed it to roam free again.

  But now he felt strong and suddenly better. If he could just last the few minutes this would take, he could get away. And worse, if he didn’t find the courage to face this, everything would collapse and the truth would emerge. Just a few moments, he reassured himself. A look of loathing, or perhaps a smug grin, and then he could dismiss the prisoner, leaving him to his minions. Let the king have all the fun.

  He took another long, slow breath.

  “All right, Kilt?” Jewd asked, supporting him. “I wish I knew what this was all about.”

  “Jewd, I can’t stay. I’ll show my face but that’s all. Don’t let me look weak in front of him. I can sneer from a distance if necessary.”

  He sensed Jewd’s anxiety and confusion. “What ever you want,” the big man said.

  Kilt looked up and saw the Davarigon woman first. He was about to ask Gavriel whether he knew whether Elka was Vested in any way when the wave of sickness arrived again. And this time he doubled over with a giddy sense of doom, dry retching, for there was nothing else for his belly to lose. A pain bloomed through his head and he collapsed to his knees.

  Jewd yelled and suddenly Gavriel and Leo flocked to his aid. Though Kilt knew they were yelling at him it was as though he was suddenly trapped in a cocoon with one other person. And the other’s voice came through clearly, spoken calmly, in a soft, sinister way.

  You belong to me, it said directly into his scrambled mind.

  Kilt looked up from the anguished activity around him, and across the clearing to where they were headed.

  And he knew the voice belonged to Loethar.

  The emperor smiled in recognition.

  Forty

  Ravan finally stretched. “It is time,” he said.

  Roddy watched the last pink blaze of the sun dip below the horizon as twilight claimed the skies. “Yes,” he said and sighed.

  Ravan offered a hand and Roddy took it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.

  “You are strong, Ravan,” he admitted.

  “We will both have to be…not just physically or in our friendship, but most of all in our minds. I suspect this ordeal is the first of many. But let us not shirk from our task now. Sergius demands this of us.”

  Roddy nodded. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Go and light the torch and bring it to me. We must release Sergius’s magic and hope that it will reach out to whom it must.”

  Roddy ran up the beach. The torch wasn’t far and he lit it from one of the pair that lit the stairway up to Sergius’s humble abode. He looked up at it, wondering if they would ever return here. He liked this place. He could live here.

  “Hurry, Roddy,” Ravan urged and Roddy scuttled back down the beach, careful to keep the flame steady.

  “Here we are,” he said unnecessarily, feeling the weight of the moment upon him like a burden. “Are we meant to pray?”

  Ravan gave him a gentle smile. “If you wish,” he said softly. Without hesitation he touched the flame to the kindling. “Farewell, Sergius,” he murmured. “You are missed.”

  “Reach out, Sergius,” Roddy added, unsure whether his words could make a difference but needing to be part of the moment.

  The kindling took and the flame erupted; small at first, it burned well nevertheless and within a few heartbeats, it began to spread. Roddy watched as the flames licked higher and wider, reaching out to incinerate the dry wood they had spent so many hours collecting. Hungrily the fire took hold and its voice was heard as the flames began to roar, hardly troubled by the gentle sea breeze, smoke rising into the darkening sky.

  Man and boy stepped back.

  “It will reach him very soon,” Ravan said, “and we must not be sad. This is his last duty and Cyrena will reward him, taking him into her heart and letting Sergius finally rest.”

  Roddy’s eyes watered. He wasn’t sure if it was from the smoke or the emotional impact of this moment. He wasn’t sure he wanted to watch the body of Sergius burn but he sensed he and Ravan needed to bear witness. He took Ravan’s cool hand and felt a reassuring squeeze in return.

  Gavriel watched in confusion as Kilt screamed, clasping his hands to his head as though in pain. Across the clearing, he noticed Elka reaching for Loethar as the emperor tried to drag himself to his feet. Loethar seemed oblivious to Elka, his stare rigid on Kilt.

  Glancing back, Gavriel could see that Jewd and Leo looked panicked in their inability to get through to Kilt, who now appeared to be fixated on Loethar. He looked again at the barbarian, now firmly in Elka’s grip and going nowhere, back to Kilt and frowned. Amid the urgency of Jewd’s and Leo’s voices, Kilt’s agonized groans and Loethar’s sinister smiling silence, he deduced that something—impossibly—was going on between Kilt and Loethar.

  “Get him away,” Kilt growled, before once again clutching his head as he tried to turn and lurch to his feet.

  “What are you talking about?” Jewd begged.

  “Kilt, can you hear us?” Leo yelled.

  Gavriel whistled to Elka. She sharply looked toward him. “Get him away from here.”

  “What?” she yelled, confused.

  “Elka, pick Loethar up and get him the hell away from here. I’ll follow you in a moment.”

  She shook her head in further confusion but did exactly as he asked. She dragged him away. Loethar struggled to keep Kilt in the frame of his vision, turning his neck to stare back at the man.

  “Quick,” Gavriel said to his companions. “Get Kilt back into the camp proper.” Other outlaws had arrived, perplexed and anxious to help. “Do it!” Gavriel ordered. Jewd finally came out of his fright and turned to two of the newcomers. “Take him,” he commanded. “I’ll be there shortly.” He swung back to Gavriel. “What in Lo’s name was that about?”

  Leo looked ashen. “Kilt’s been acting strangely these last couple of days. Is there something he’s not telling us?”

  A glance passed between Jewd and Gavriel and Gavriel knew that Jewd was aware of something amiss.

  His eyes narrowed as he thought it through, glaring at Jewd. “What ever it was, it was between Kilt and Loethar,” he replied.

  Jewd looked taken aback. So, Gavriel thought, perhaps he doesn’t know any more than us.

  Jewd shook his head. “Don’t be daft, man. They’ve never spoken, never clapped eyes on each other before.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  The big man glared at him. “In the past fifteen anni, I can count on less than one hand the number of times Kilt and I have been separated. And since Loethar came on the scene, that’s only happened once and that was just a few days ago. I know he didn’t see Loethar in that time a
nd vice versa. Today was the first time they have seen each other.”

  “And that was from a distance,” Leo added.

  “What are you getting at, de Vis?” Jewd demanded.

  Gavriel shook his head, unsure. “Something was occurring between them. Did you not see the way Loethar was smiling at Kilt?” They shook their heads, frowning. “It was antagonistic. He was taking satisfaction. He was all but baiting him, but without any words.”

  “That doesn’t make sense, Gav,” Leo said. “They weren’t even talking.”

  Gavriel eyed Jewd. He took a chance. “They didn’t have to, did they, Jewd?”

  Jewd balked. “What?”

  “You know something. What ever it is, you’d better spill it. We’re not the enemy. He is.” Gavriel pointed to where Loethar had been taken. “And I might be mistaken but going by what I was watching, it seemed he’s got some hold over Kilt that we need to understand. You heard Kilt. Even he said get him away!”

  Leo’s eyes widened. “That’s right, he did. What could that mean?”

  Gavriel and Leo looked at Jewd.

  “Why are you both staring at me? I don’t know any more than you.”

  “You sound defensive, Jewd. What aren’t you telling us?”

  Jewd shrugged and shook his head.

  “Jewd, we have to make a decision about Loethar,” Gavriel pressed. “What ever troubles Kilt has now happened twice and in the presence of the barbarian. You’ve seen it. If we’re going to use Loethar, we have to know what we’re dealing with here. If Faris can’t be within shouting distance of Loethar, we have a very grave problem. And besides that, Kilt looked to be suffering badly.” He paused, but Jewd just glared back in silence. “You have to tell me!” Gavriel shouted, frustrated.

  Leo frowned. “What do you mean, Gav? What am I missing?”

  “Ask your friend,” Gavriel said, dismissing them both and turning to find Elka.

  He got five strides before he heard Jewd’s voice. “Stop.”

  “Don’t waste my time!” he growled as the big outlaw approached him.

  Jewd raised his palms in defeat. “All right,” he said, soothing the anger. “What I’m going to say remains between us. I’m only telling you this because I’m cornered and I want to help Kilt. I don’t really know what’s going on but I know something about Kilt that may give us a clue. This must not be discussed with anyone. Do you both understand?”

  Gavriel glanced at Leo and both looked back at Jewd, nodding.

  Jewd sighed, scratched his head. “I only found this out today, so I’ve been oblivious to it all my life and that’s no doubt what Kilt wanted. If he’s going to keep a secret from me, then,” he shrugged, “he obviously can barely admit it to himself.”

  “Spit it out, Jewd,” Gavriel urged, not unkindly.

  Jewd shook his head. “He’s Vested,” he said, baldly.

  It took a moment for Gavriel to understand what he had just heard.

  “What?”

  “You heard me,” Jewd growled.

  Leo approached Jewd, suddenly angry. “What does that mean? Vested? How is Kilt Vested? I’ve never seen anything that remotely smacks of magic around Kilt.”

  “Me either,” Jewd admitted. “He only told me today and only because I forced him. Leo, why do you think Stracker and Vulpan were escorting him into Barronel? As far as they were concerned he was a priest looking for his sister. They had no reason to suspect him of anything else.”

  “Until that blood-sucking creature tasted him,” Leo finished, understanding ghosting across his face.

  Jewd nodded. “Vulpan instantly recognized him as Vested, a secret that I now realize Kilt has kept since he was old enough to realize he possesses magic. When he was as young as you were, when we first met you, de Vis, Kilt attended the Academy at Cremond. But then I came along to tell him of his mother’s death and,” he sighed, “well, our friendship was rekindled and we stuck together, took on this new lifestyle that suited us. I now realize he was running from something. And that something was his magic.”

  Gavriel was stunned. “And he’s never used it in all these anni?”

  Jewd shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of. He swears he’s never even been tempted.”

  “Even so, why would Kilt’s magic trigger such odd behavior in Loethar? How would he know unless…” Leo stared at Gavriel, shocked into silence mid-sentence.

  Gavriel shook his head. “We’ve watched him when he’s been solitary, we’ve watched him with people, both friend and foe. And I’ve traveled with him these last hours. If Loethar possesses any powers, I’m sure he would have used them.”

  Leo nodded, slightly more assured. “Yes, yes, you’re right.”

  “Jewd.” The three turned as Tern approached.

  “He wants to see you,” Tern said. “He demands that Loethar be kept away.” Tern looked confused. “I don’t know what that means.”

  Jewd nodded. “I’ll be right there.”

  Gavriel waited until Tern had departed before speaking. “That’s his own words, Jewd. Kilt knows Loethar’s injuring him somehow.”

  “I’ll go talk to him,” the big man said.

  “He doesn’t have to fear us,” Leo said. “We’ll go and face Loethar.”

  Loethar was quiet, suddenly feeling spent. Elka had forced him to sit. Night was closing in. The sky had only a soft suggestion of the day clinging to it. He liked this time of day. Twilight. Throughout his life, this short period betwixt day and night had always felt as though it was filled with possibility. The Wikken had always spoken of this time as a powerful one.

  What had just occurred had shocked him. At first he hadn’t understood it. Now he did. And he felt an elation that was unrivaled by anything he had ever experienced before. Winning the right to rule his people, making the decision to successfully invade the Set, not even the plea sure of finally conquering Brennus could come close to what he was feeling now.

  He had been silent, not answering any of Elka’s questions, because he hardly dared believe it himself. He needed time to think. She’d stopped pummeling him with her angry queries and they now waited in a tense silence.

  “Here they come,” she said, interrupting his thoughts. “They’ll want answers.”

  “I may not have any,” he replied.

  “Don’t lie, Loethar. You are dependent upon us for your life right now. If you want to live, you would be wise to not treat either of these people walking toward you as simpletons. I suspect either would kill you without a moment’s remorse. You’d better give them a good reason to stay their hand. There’s only so much I will do to protect you.”

  “I’m flattered,” he said, grimacing at the fresh burst of pain through his body.

  Leo and Gavriel arrived, keeping their distance, Leo glowering at him. Loethar watched Gavriel’s glance shift to Elka and sensed her shake her head.

  “What happened just now, Loethar?” Gavriel asked.

  Loethar forced a humorless expression of mirth. “Ask your outlaw leader.”

  “He’s not my leader. My ruler, however, stands beside me. He is the only person I answer to.”

  “Ah, yes, and so I finally meet the young would-be king.”

  “Not would-be,” Leo said. “I am king.”

  “Only in your mind, boy,” Loethar dismissed.

  “I have taken my regal oath at the Stone of Lackmarin. You are merely a pretender.”

  Loethar smiled.

  “Loethar, do you want your half-brother to be emperor?” Gavriel asked.

  Loethar smirked at the suggestion. “He’s a fool and a thug. He’s strong and courageous but he has no subtlety. He can rule warriors but diplomacy evades him. He would ruin the empire. Perhaps that could be your secret weapon, Leonel?”

  “Don’t address me as though you know me. We have nothing in common,” Leo ordered.

  “Is that so?” Loethar asked, making a soft sound of disdain. “You poor young fool.”

  “What’s tha
t supposed to mean?” Gavriel demanded. “I want to know what occurred between you and Faris. Don’t deny that something was happening.”

  “All right. I won’t.”

  Silence descended around the quartet. Loethar and Gavriel locked stares. Loethar could barely believe he was at this point. Was this the right time? Yes, it was. There would never be a better time than now.

  Gavriel glanced at Leo, then returned his gaze to the wounded emperor. “Who is Kilt Faris to you?”

  Loethar took a deep breath. His expression became grave. “Unless I’m mistaken, he is my aegis,” he replied.

  “Aegis?” Gavriel and Leo repeated as one.

  “Impossible!” Leo said. “I know what an aegis is. And I’m very glad to tell you, barbarian, that you certainly are not entitled to one.”

  “Only you, eh, Leo? Faris could resist you, but I’ll wager he’s had to work hard at it all these years he’s harbored you. His mind must be as strong as an ox and his willpower too. And you were too unempowered to recognize him in your midst, you poor weak Valisar fool.”

  “What are you talking about?” Gavriel demanded. He turned to Leo. “Tell me what this is about.”

  Leo briefly explained what an aegis meant.

  Gavriel returned his attention to Loethar. “What kind of nonsense is this?”

  Loethar shrugged, ignoring the pain it caused him. “You saw Faris. Go ask him.”

  “I’m asking you!” Gavriel growled.

  “And I’ve already told you, de Vis.”

  “Then you lie,” Leo spat. He laughed. “Power has certainly gone to your head, barbarian. An aegis isn’t just available. He is created for a Valisar. If Faris is indeed an aegis, which I doubt…and I doubt the very existence of the role but—”

 

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