Читать книгу Royal Exile - Fiona McIntosh, Fiona McIntosh - Страница 8

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‘My sister’s dead,’ Leo said in the bald way that any twelve year old might comment.

Gavriel nodded. ‘I’m sorry for your family … for you, majesty.’

‘I was hoping for a brother — not like Piven, but one like you have.’

‘Girls are fun too,’ Gavriel replied, knowing the youngster probably wouldn’t catch on fully to his innuendo.

Leo screwed his nose up. ‘They’re not much good at fishing, archery, riding, fighting —’

‘Ha! Don’t you believe it, majesty,’ Gavriel said. ‘They’re pretty good at most things and very good at others.’

‘Like what?’

‘Er, well, like looking beautiful, smelling nice …’

The boy obviously thought about this for a few moments as Gavriel helped to hoist him up to balance perilously on his shoulders. ‘Get that one, your majesty,’ he said, pointing to a particularly fat, ripe-looking pear. The pear landed in Gavriel’s outstretched hand. ‘One more, over there.’

As he stretched to reach it, Leo continued, ‘Smelling good isn’t much help in a battle, though, is it?’

Gavriel liked the way Leo’s mind worked. He still had that direct, slightly unnerving manner of all children but the crown prince was a thinker and often amused Gavriel and Corbel with his opinionated insights. He was maturing fast, too. Gavriel was still young enough to recall how quickly one could turn from a youngster disinterested in anything but boyish pursuits into a young man whose every thought seemed to focus around women and enjoying them.

Gavriel could almost yearn for that carefree way of even five anni previous but it was lost to him. And not just because of the toll of years; Loethar was stealing the Set’s future, might well steal their lives if he was gauging the mood of his father and the king correctly. The palace was preparing for siege, and the word was already going out that, impossible though it seemed, Barronel’s fall was now inevitable. Penraven’s people should flee, preferably via the sea, since Loethar had no ships, and no sailing prowess even if he could secure vessels. Penraven’s coastline was so vast that anyone who wanted to leave the realm could, finding safety in the Taramanian Isles to the west, or in the eastern kingdom of Galinsea.

But there would be no escape for the De Vis brothers. The sovereign was counting on them to behave as men now; the innocence of childhood was a luxury long behind them.

Leo leapt down from Gavriel’s shoulders, ignoring the hand of help. ‘Eat your pear,’ Gavriel said, crunching into his. He wondered how he was going to live up to the task asked of him by his king, but was quickly reminded of what had fallen on Corbel’s shoulders and shuddered. His brother’s task was far more daunting.

‘What do you mean?’ Leo asked.

‘What?’

‘You said you wondered how he could kill something so tiny.’

Gavriel realised he must have spoken the final thought about his brother aloud. ‘Nothing. I don’t remember.’

‘You remember everything, Gav. Dates, debts, all sorts of facts.’

‘Quite. And speaking of debts, you owe me two trents.’

‘I haven’t forgotten. Where’s Corbel?’

‘Running an errand for our father,’ Gavriel answered, suddenly unable to swallow his mouthful of pear. He spat it out.

‘Worm?’

‘No, just suddenly tasted a bit acid.’

‘Mine’s sweet, just like Sarah Flarty’s backside,’ Leo said, then burst into laughter at Gavriel’s astonished expression. ‘Well, you told me so.’

Gavriel sucked in a breath at the notion that he’d probably never pinch Sarah’s pert bottom again and her promised tumble in the hayloft was likely not to happen, now that he was a full-time babysitter to the crown prince. Every hour of the day you watch him, you guard him, his father had impressed after the king had told him what it was that they expected of Gavriel. He is never to be far from you. And when the time comes you must disappear with him. No farewells, no packing, no notes left behind. He is all that matters. Protect Leo with your life. Raise him.

Raise him? He wasn’t ready to be a father figure. He wasn’t even sure he knew how to see to the boy’s needs for a full day. He often still felt like a child himself, usually deferring to Corb’s cunning. And now his brother was gone.

‘Did you see your sister?’ Gavriel asked, not meaning to ask something so blunt but needing the image of his brother close. How would they manage without each other?

‘Mother doesn’t know but father allowed me to see her because I wanted to. She doesn’t — didn’t — look like me. Did you see her?’ Gavriel shook his head, unable to utter the lie. ‘Well, she had dark hair. Father told me to kiss her but —’ he made a sound of disgust — ‘I didn’t want to. She felt stiff, cold.’

Gavriel silently praised the emotional armour with which childhood still protected Leo.

‘They’re burying her in the family crypt. She has her own tombstone being carved. I’ll kiss her tombstone perhaps, shall I?’

‘Good idea,’ Gavriel said. ‘I saw Piven earlier today. I suppose he doesn’t know much about it.’

The shrug Leo gave was nonetheless rueful. ‘Piven doesn’t know much of anything. Can I ask you something, Gav?’

‘Anything. You are the heir to the throne, after all.’

Leo grinned. It was an old jest, which the twins used ruthlessly against him. ‘Is the tyrant going to kill us all?’

Gavriel sighed. ‘Not you.’

‘Why not?’

‘You have me.’

‘I know you’re the best swordsman we have, but —’

‘Of the cohort only,’ Gavriel qualified, recalling with pride how his father, the best known sword in the land, had marvelled at the result of his concept to train a small group of youngsters into an elite faction. His eldest son’s escalating skills were the most impressive of all.

‘That’s what I mean.’

‘In that case, best sword, best archer, best rider.’

‘Ah, but not best climber.’

‘No, but that’s because you’re still relatively puny…your majesty.’

Again Leo smiled. ‘Well, when I’m your age I’ll be a better swordsman, and I’ll shoot arrows longer and straighter.’

‘I’m sure you will,’ Gavriel said, playing along, glad that he’d sidetracked the prince from the threat of death that loomed over all of them.

‘But you do think others will die … that the tyrant will win?’ Leo continued.

It seemed Gavriel had congratulated himself too soon. ‘I don’t think we’ll come out of this without some death, no.’

‘So my parents and brother will be murdered probably.’

Gavriel didn’t answer.

‘And likely your father because he’s legate.’

‘I —’

‘And perhaps all the people of Penraven because they are loyal to the crown.’

‘Leo.’

‘It just doesn’t seem fair that I should survive, does it?’

Gavriel wanted to say that there was absolutely no guarantee that he would — in fact there was an all too real likelihood that he wouldn’t — but that was hardly the encouraging sentiment that his father wanted from him. De Vis had warned him to keep the boy’s mindset strong, far away from thoughts of siege or death. So instead Gavriel placated Leo with the obvious. ‘You are the heir. You are even more important than the king because you are the realm’s future. If he died without an heir, that would be disastrous, irresponsible and unforgiveable. But if his heir survives, even if he himself dies, there is hope.’

‘And hope is a good thing,’ Leo said, as though finishing Gavriel’s sentence.

‘It is everything for a kingdom facing such a threat.’

‘Tell me about Loethar. Everyone ignores me, says I don’t need to worry.’

‘Not your father and certainly not mine,’ Gavriel replied, surprised.

‘No. They’re worse. They tell me that Loethar can be beaten and yet their faces say something different. I know they’re pretending, shielding me from the truth. I want the truth, Gav. I’m not just a child, I’m the crown prince. I have to know what we face. And I’m twelve now, almost thirteen. That’s ancient!’

The prince was correct; he did have a right to the truth. Gavriel wasn’t sure he was the appropriate person to deliver it. He swallowed. The reality of the weight of responsibility given to him slotted into place in his mind and made him feel dizzy with fear. He would give Leo the truth as he understood it; the boy needed to know precisely what journey lay ahead of them.

‘I’ll tell you what I know, what my father has told me.’

Leo settled back against a tree. ‘Start from the beginning of Loethar’s life.’

Gavriel stretched out his long legs, crossed them at the ankle and knitted his hands behind his head as he leaned against the tree trunk. He didn’t feel relaxed but he needed to give Leo the impression that he was. ‘Loethar’s background is murky. No one really knows who he is but we know he hails from the Likurian Steppes.’

‘A tribal warlord,’ Leo muttered with awe.

‘If you want to give him a title, that certainly fits, although “lowlife thug” is my best definition.’

‘A masterful thug,’ Leo suggested and at Gavriel’s look of disdain, added, ‘Well, he certainly called the Set’s bluff. Why didn’t we all just kill him and scatter his mob to their arid lands moons ago?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You do. Stupidity. Obviously each of the kingdoms — and Penraven surely must take the most blame — believed itself invincible simply because he brought a seeming rabble. We didn’t respect their determination.’

All true. Gavriel sighed silently at Leo’s grasp of the situation and continued. ‘We know of no family and to my knowledge we don’t even know why or how this campaign of war began but we assume he dreams of empire. His intention is to cripple the power of the Denova Set, with Penraven the jewel of his new crown.’

‘Because politically and financially we’re the most powerful of all the realms.’

‘Correct.’

‘Yes, but why?’

‘Lo help me — what is your history teacher doing with you, majesty?’

‘He’s so boring I don’t pay attention. Out here with you it’s more fun.’

‘All right, let’s see,’ Gavriel began. ‘Penraven, Barronel, Dregon, Gormand, Vorgaven, Cremond and Medhaven make up the Denova Set.’

Leo made a sound of exaggerated exasperation. ‘I know that much.’

Gavriel ignored him. ‘Of the seven, Penraven is the largest, the most powerful and the most wealthy. And Penraven was the first of the realms, so the others tend to look up to the Valisar crown. However, each is its own sovereign state, governing itself. You’ve seen the seven Kings coming together for the Denova Meet every three years, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, although I was never allowed to be involved.’

‘No, well you were ill for the last one I recall and barely six for the one before that, still, I might add, sucking your thumb! The King of Gormand disapproved.’

Leo sniggered. ‘So another is due.’

‘Yes, it was meant to happen last moon but Loethar’s actions have changed everything.’

‘I still can’t believe we didn’t take action. And he now controls the other realms.’

‘Medhaven is hardly a stronghold or much of a prize but my father heard through runners this morning that Barronel was set to fall — probably later today. We have to hope that some renegades somewhere are hatching plans for overthrow in the various kingdoms. It’s to those rebels we must look, find them somehow, link up if we can.’ Gavriel was thinking aloud. No one in authority had said as much but he believed there had to be survivors who were not prepared to succumb to the tyrant’s rule.

‘And so now he wants to rule Penraven.’

‘Yes, but …’ Gavriel stopped himself too late.

‘But what?’

‘What do you know about your family, majesty?’

Leo spun around to face Gavriel. ‘That’s an odd question.’

‘Do you know its history?’

Leo began reciting the Kings. ‘My father is the 8th. Before him, my grandfather, King Darros, and —’

Gavriel interrupted him. ‘I mean do you know what makes the Valisar Kings so revered … and feared?’

The boy shook his head, looked down. ‘A secret, no doubt.’

Gavriel nodded. ‘You should be learning this from your father, not me.’

‘But you can give me a hint.’

The eldest of the De Vis twins — by just three minutes — felt a stirring, a premonition perhaps. ‘It’s known as the Valisar Enchantment. I’ve never heard much about it to tell you the truth, but my father told me rumour abounds among the people.’

‘What is it?’ Leo asked, frowning.

‘I was told it is a powerful magic that belongs to the Valisar line alone.’

Leo’s eyes were shining with the intrigue. ‘So father has it. What is it?’

Gavriel shrugged. ‘The power of coercion.’

The boy frowned, looked at him quizzically. ‘What does that mean?’

‘Well, with it presumably you can bend people to your will.’

‘Make them do what you want?’

‘You could put it like that.’

Leo whistled. ‘Imagine that power!’

Gavriel’s mind drifted momentarily. As Leo threw out suggestions of how it might be manipulated to their own ends, he imagined instead what could happen if such power fell into the wrong hands.

‘… and Sarah Flarty could never refuse you.’ Leo finished, breathless, grinning.

‘What?’ Gavriel’s attention had returned just in time to hear the last few cheeky words.

‘Well, you want to kiss her, don’t you?’

‘I don’t think that’s any of your business, your majesty. I should never have mentioned her to you,’ Gavriel replied.

‘She’s pretty. I like her. You should kiss her anyway and then you can teach me how to because I’d quite like to kiss Duke Grendel’s daughter but she thinks I’m dirty.’

‘Dirty?’

‘Says I always smell of horses and mud.’

‘Young girls can be a bit priggish, Leo. Older ones are more fun,’ Gavriel added with a wink. ‘Like that delicious new girl, Genrie.’

Leo screwed his nose. ‘She’s hideous!’

‘Hardly.’

‘Old!’

Gavriel shrugged. ‘Only to you.’

‘And you … ugh!’

‘Older women have experience, Leo. Something you can’t quite appreciate yet.’

‘She hates me.’

‘Ah, here’s the truth of it. She doesn’t hate you, she’s brisk with everyone, very efficient, very … desirable. I wouldn’t mind her ordering me around —’ He stopped, catching himself in time. ‘Er, where were we?’

Leo didn’t seem to mind the abrupt halt and he hadn’t forgotten where they’d left their previous topic. ‘But if the Kings of Valisar have this … this power of —’

‘Coercion,’ Gavriel prompted.

Leo nodded. ‘Why hasn’t my father used it to stop the tyrant?’

Gavriel stood, dusted off his trousers and hauled a reluctant crown prince to his feet. ‘Because your father does not possess this power.’

‘But I thought you just said —’

‘I told you what the Valisar legend says. The reality is that we don’t know what it is or who possesses it, how it works, or how to stop it working. Your father told my father that he does not wield any magic that he’s aware of, cannot wield anything more dangerous than a sword.’

‘So it’s a lie, then.’

‘Not necessarily.’

‘Gav, you’re confusing me.’

‘It’s a confusing subject. Come on, majesty, we’re late. I promised Morkom I’d have you back to take supper with the queen.’ He gave the crown prince a gentle push. ‘We can talk as we walk but keep your voice low — what we discuss is secret.’

Leo fell into step alongside his tall keeper. ‘So if it’s not a lie, what is it?’

‘No one knows. Your father believes that it is a contrary phenomenon, er … by that I mean it’s a thing that can appear whenever it chooses. No one knows for sure but I’m told it can skip generations, lie dormant for endless years if it wants.’

‘How does someone know if they have it?’

‘I presume, majesty, they can test it by trying to compel people to do their bidding.’

‘And my father cannot.’

‘He denies any ability and I think he would have used it if he did possess such a thing, don’t you?’

‘Lo sod it! I definitely don’t have it. But where does the power come from?’

Gavriel shrugged. ‘Search me. Born with it, I guess. I learned today that the first Valisar king — Cormoron — who was supposedly bristling with this power — made a blood oath on the Stone of Truth at Lackmarin that he and no other Valisar king would ever be able to use their power against their own.’

‘Does that mean family?’

‘I think it extends to his people.’

‘Go on, this is good,’ Leo said, leaping onto a low wall and frowning as he listened, balancing alongside Gavriel.

‘When his blood was spilled upon the stone it is said that a serpent appeared and drank the blood. It told Cormoron that his blood oath was accepted and the magic would remain true to the Valisars and their heirs would be impervious to its power.’

They’d reached the stairs that led to the royal apartments. Leo touched the carved pattern in the stonework that was a familiar design throughout Brighthelm. ‘Is that why we have a serpent alongside the winged lion in our heraldry?’

‘That is precisely why. It was incorporated by Cormoron in a proclamation that the serpent would join the winged lion on the family crest.’

‘Did the serpent say anything else to the first king?’

Gavriel smiled. ‘I don’t know, majesty, I wasn’t there,’ he admitted, ending their conversation.

He saw how Leo, while making his way up to his private rooms, acknowledged various servants who were passing them — one carrying linen, another with an armload of tallow candles, and still another with a basin of water. Even though the crown prince said nothing, he found a smile or a nod to let that person know he noticed them. It was a small gesture and yet its consequences were far rippling. For Leo to have the presence of mind already to look beyond his own world and his own needs, to remember that others made his life so easy, boded well for him as future king … if Gavriel could keep him alive that long.

‘No one seems scared of Loethar,’ Leo admitted, echoing Gavriel’s thoughts.

‘That’s because we’ve never given them reason to be … until now. Be assured, majesty, the panic will hit soon enough. I think we’ve been wrong to ignore the threat but my opinion is worth little.’

‘Not to me,’ Leo said and then froze as one of the servants appeared, walking so briskly she was bringing behind her a draught.

‘Prince Leo,’ she said, nodding her head, ‘Morkom has been looking for you everywhere.’ Her tone was filled with accusation.

Gavriel saw Leo’s eyes narrow. ‘And he can continue to look, Genrie,’ the prince said coolly. ‘He is, after all, a servant. One I appreciate and like very much but a servant all the same … just like you.’

Genrie bristled and Gavriel found her all the more alluring for her pursed lips and frostiness. The fact was Genrie was efficient, keen at her job, and liked by all the senior people in the palace because she was discreet and pragmatic. But she had an abrupt, at times superior manner that he understood would certainly rub the youthful prince the wrong way. ‘Er, his majesty is late because of me, Genrie,’ he chimed in. ‘Forgive me. He’s here now and well aware that he is due for supper shortly with the queen. Who are you having supper with? Perhaps I could —’

‘Master De Vis,’ she began, her tone wintry, ‘I was expressly sent by the queen to find his majesty and I —’

‘And he is found.’ Leo cut across her words with a sardonic smile. ‘Thank you.’

It was a dismissal and she had no option but to curtsey and move on, but not without throwing a glare at Gavriel.

Gavriel sighed. ‘Now she’ll never let me feel her pert —’

‘Ah, the kitchens have sent up some berry liquor,’ the prince said, ignoring his friend’s moans as they entered his suite. ‘Want some?’

‘No, majesty, but you go ahead.’

Leo gave him a look of disdain. ‘Gav, it sounds to me like we’re going to be together for a while.’

‘I should be honest and tell you that I’ve been instructed by your father and my father not to leave your side. We’re as good as glued together from hereon.’

That caught the prince’s attention. He gawped at Gavriel. ‘You jest.’

Gavriel shook his head. ‘New rules. You now have a full-time champion.’

‘What about Piven?’

‘He has his nurserymaids. You need a man!’ Gavriel said the last with a flourish, flexing the muscles in his upper arm in a light attempt at humour he didn’t feel.

The boy gave a low whistle. ‘In that case can we drop the majesty title? It makes me feel awkward. You and Corb never used to call me that. Your doing it now makes me feel like my father.’ He tipped water into the small measure of dark syrup he had poured into a goblet.

‘In front of others I must show respect, you know that.’

Leo drank the contents of the goblet, giving a sound of pleasure as he swallowed the last mouthful. ‘Fine, but when we’re alone I want to be just Leo or dunderhead to you as I’ve always been.’ He pushed back the fringe of his sandy-coloured hair. ‘So is that all you know about the Valisar magic?’

Gavriel thought he’d got away too easily on the previous conversation. ‘I know that it’s whispered about as the Valisar Enchantment. Your father told me only today in fact that it’s the magic that kills the females of his line. Whether they die in the womb, at birth or beyond it, none has survived more than an hour or so.’

‘Why? The magic is too powerful for them?’

‘Seems so.’

‘Or perhaps it chooses only the boys to live.’

‘Yes, more likely.’

‘My poor sister,’ Leo mused. ‘I’d like to have taught her how to shoot a catapult. Piven just can’t get it.’

‘Even if she had survived, Leo, I wonder whether your father could have risked her being found by Loethar.’

The boy looked up, surprised. ‘You mean he’s pleased she’s dead?’

‘No,’ Gavriel hurried to say. ‘But I think I sensed that he felt relief that she could not be hurt by the barbarian.’

‘But why couldn’t my father have protected us all if she’d lived?’

Gavriel shrugged. He too wasn’t sure about this. ‘I imagine because a baby is dangerous. It can give you away with a whimper if you’re hiding; it needs its mother and the kind of care that if we were on the run we couldn’t give. I think your sister’s death released your father from having to make that decision,’ he said, hating the lie as it treacherously left his lips. ‘I’m calling Morkom for your bath.’

‘But how is my father going to protect my little brother?’

‘I’m not sure. I’m not privy to that,’ Gavriel replied, utterly sure now that Piven would be ignored and left to Loethar’s discretion. No one wanted another child’s blood on his hands by killing Piven to save him from the barbarian.

‘I shall speak to him about Piven. Where is the king, do you know?’

‘I imagine he’s at the barracks. Our army is going to be facing the marauders soon. He’s probably doing his best to ensure their spirits are high, and their courage.’

‘What about ours?’

‘We’ll have to help each other.’ The words sounded prophetic as he said them. ‘And I think we have to get used to it.’

Loethar licked the blade, enjoying the sensation of the metallic tanginess in his mouth. Blue blood. Regal blood. He could get drunk on it. He looked at Stracker. ‘Impale him and all the family in the central square. That should reinforce who now controls Barronel and loosen a few tongues as to where any of the Vested may be.’

‘I presume you want a spectacle made of the rest of the family?’

‘Cross them. That always humbles an audience. And don’t hasten their deaths. No mercy.’

Stracker nodded, glancing at the enormous raven sitting on the back of Loethar’s chair.

‘I want sorcerers, witches, wizards — call them whatever you will, they’re all the same to me,’ Loethar continued. ‘But I want to know who the Vested are and where we can find them. Offer rewards, spread fear, use whatever tools necessary but I hunger for my knowledge. I must be fed.’ He grinned and the malevolence behind his words was heightened by the sight of his bloodstained teeth. He wiped his tongue along them, licking his lips at the residue of taste.

‘I shall see to it,’ Stracker said.

‘I plan to be alone tonight,’ Loethar added, then changed his mind. ‘Actually, send me up that cowering little princess. And have a barrel of wine brought up with her. Maybe it will help dull the sound of her shrieks.’

Both men laughed. Once his Right had departed, the contrived smile froze on Loethar’s face. He was close now. Very close. He hoped the Penravians were suffering in their dreams with images of the havoc he was going to loose upon them. He hoped they had heard the stories of what he had unleashed upon the rest of the Set, the terror he had achieved and the torturous pain he had heaped on each realm. Word ran ahead of him, he knew, and he hoped the people of Penraven were listening carefully, for he wanted their king … but most of all he wanted what the Valisar royals possessed. He stroked the raven’s head and it blinked its pale eyes.

‘Almost there now, Vyk,’ he cooed.

A knock dragged him from his thoughts. ‘Who is it?’ he yelled, convinced it could not yet be his entertainment for the evening.

‘It’s Valya,’ came the reply.

‘Come!’

Vyk swooped down to stand by the corpse as the door pushed open and a woman stepped through. ‘Am I interrupting, Loethar? Ah, I see it’s all over.’

‘Would it matter if you were?’

She smiled, slow and familiar, as she crossed the room, not at all fazed by the large bird or its warning caw at her approach. ‘I thought this too important to wait on. Being this close to Penraven, news travels fast.’

‘And?’

‘One of my spies in the city tells me that a death knell has been sounding for hours. Double shock for the people — you on one side of the walls and a royal death on the other.’ She laughed.

Loethar’s eyes narrowed. ‘Who? Surely not Brennus.’

‘No one’s ever said the man’s a coward. I doubt he’d kill himself to prevent your having the pleasure.’ She looked down at the dead king at her lover’s feet but her expression remained unchanged, unmoved by the sight of the decapitated royal. ‘But I have to wonder yet again why he didn’t try to dissuade you from your path.’

‘Because he’s been too comfortable wearing that all-powerful Valisar crown for too long. He believes in its invincibility. Only now might he be realising that I plan to teach him that even the Valisars can be toppled.’

She gave him a wry glance. ‘You know the Penravians will flee by ship.’

‘Yes, I do, because you’ve already told me that much. It’s not the people I care about, Valya. It’s the Valisars.’

‘So all this death and destruction has been about Brennus,’ she said, baldly.

‘It always has been. Him and his offspring and those who support them.’

None of the wryness had left her expression. ‘Just leave Cremond alone.’

‘I did. I don’t break promises. Do we know who’s dead in Penraven?’ he asked again.

She shook her head. ‘It could be any of them, but my guess is it’s the queen.’ She turned and spat onto the corpse, surprising Loethar. He wasn’t sure whether she was disgusted by the Queen of Penraven or by the King of Barronel, or whether she’d actually intended to hit Vyk. Whichever it was, it was a gesture of genuine viciousness.

‘Why would it be the queen? Too frightened of what I might do to her?’ he asked.

She ignored his query. ‘If they’ve got any sense they’ve already gone on one of their sumptuous royal schooners.’

‘He’s too proud to flee,’ Loethar replied.

‘I agree. The Valisars are stoic — even those who marry into the family. She would not lose face by taking her life. Don’t you see?’ She gave a rueful shrug. ‘I suspect the Valisar courage in the face of certain destruction will inspire their people.’

‘We’ll see how long that inspiration lasts when I have what I seek in my possession. Tell me why you think the queen is dead.’

‘Childbirth takes many victims,’ she said, her tone casual, disinterested.

‘Childbir—?’ he repeated, interrupting himself as the realisation dawned. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ His tone was threatening.

‘Sorry, did I fail to mention that the Penraven whore was spawning another brat? She is mother to the heir and also stepmother to a halfwit orphan she took pity upon. Now there is another who probably hasn’t survived birth. For you there’s only the eldest to worry about. I probably didn’t consider it important.’

‘You surprise me, Valya. I allow you to be my eyes and ears because you’re good at it but I expect you to tell me everything you learn. If you don’t, your skills are of no use to me, no matter how cunning your mind. I really should punish you,’ Loethar said, his mind already racing.

‘It doesn’t change anything,’ she countered, still sounding confident.

‘The news has ramifications.’

‘Not really. You plan to kill them all anyway, I assume.’

‘I don’t have any plan at this point,’ he reprimanded, ‘other than to watch Penraven’s famous walls be breached. Beyond that I shall wait and see.’

‘So, is this our new home?’ she asked, trailing her hand across a highly polished marble surface, the top to an elegant piece of furniture that had probably served as the king’s private dining table. ‘I rather like this — what an amazing colour it is.’

He forced his anger to cool. This was not the moment to lose his temper. ‘The famed Barronel marble from the deep earth quarries in its Vagero Hills.’

‘Stunning,’ she said absently, already moving to study the books in the small library the king had kept on hand in his suite. Vyk followed, hopping behind her.

‘Yes, Barronel will be our base for the time being. Make yourself at home, Valya, but not in here,’ he cautioned.

‘Why?’ she asked, stopping her slow movement around the bookshelves.

‘You are not a king.’

‘Neither are you,’ she said lazily, but added, before he could reply, ‘you are an emperor in the making. You’d better get used to such surrounds and lay your own mark against it. No more caves and tents for you, Loethar.’

‘And although you are used to the finer things in life, may I suggest that you discover them in another quarter of the palace.’

‘Where will you be? Perhaps I could —’

He cut her off. ‘I don’t know where I’ll be. I may travel to Penraven to get my first glimpse of the Valisar stronghold.’

A knock at the door interrupted them. ‘Come,’ he said, tiredly, and a burly warrior, his face scarified and coloured with inks, entered, dragging a terrified child behind him. The girl was barely more than twelve summertides and was dressed in royal finery but Loethar noticed that her gown was torn, her face stained with tears.

‘Stracker said you asked for her, my lord,’ the man said gruffly in the language of the steppes.

‘I have changed my mind. Give her back to the mother.’

‘Already dead.’

Loethar sighed, irritated. ‘Then send the girl to her god as well. Do it immediately, no pain, make it swift.’

‘In here?’ the man asked, surprised.

The girl began to wail, having caught sight of the headless body that remained of her father.

‘No, not here,’ Loethar said slowly through gritted teeth. ‘Take her away and arrange for him to be removed as well.’ The man nodded. ‘And Vash, speak only in the language of the region now.’

‘Very good, my lord,’ he answered in perfect Set, exiting the room, dragging the screaming girl behind.

Valya wore a look of disgust. ‘Oh, Loethar, were you really planning to amuse yourself with a child? Have you no conscience?’

‘About as much as you have,’ he replied.

She laughed and he heard the false tone she tried to hide. ‘None, then.’

‘Precisely. What I actually do and what I want my men to think I do is something entirely different.’

‘Because if what you’re looking for is some companionship of the skin,’ she began flirtatiously.

He blinked with irritation. ‘I’m looking to sleep,’ he said, cutting her off again. ‘Close the door behind you. Tell no one to disturb me unless it’s about who has died among the Valisar royalty. Otherwise I don’t anticipate hearing from anyone, including you, for the next six hours.’

Loethar didn’t wait for her response, but turned and strode away into the former king’s bedroom, Vyk swooping behind him.