Tyrant's Blood (19 page)

‘This way,’ she said, pointing. ‘What’s going on?’ When he scowled at her, she followed up with: ‘I mean, other than the obvious.’

‘I’ll tell you once we’re on the road. Hurry.’

Mercifully for Kirin, the horses were ready and they didn’t see Vulpan again, although Kirin suspected he was watching them from one of the many windows. Kirin didn’t look back, urging his horse forward, knowing Lily had no option but to match his pace. He had them galloping the moment they were out of sight of the town’s entrance.

After a time of determined galloping, he veered off the main road, heading east. He allowed his horse to slow and Lily to draw alongside him. She said nothing as she caught her breath, waiting for him to break the difficult silence that suddenly hung between them. Buying time, Kirin slowed his horse further and reached to untie the food. He offered Lily some bread.

She shook her head. ‘Are you going to tell me why we’ve left the road to Brighthelm?’

Kirin chewed slowly. ‘Let me eat something quickly and then I’ll explain everything.’

Lily waited while he took this chance to formulate how to tell her what needed to happen next. He wasn’t hungry; his appetite was lost but he knew he had to eat and after swallowing all the bread and half the cheese, his belly felt full. He wrapped up the remains and put them away. ‘We’re on the road to Camlet,’ he began.

‘So I gathered.’

‘I don’t plan to go to Camlet, I’m just trying to find the next village or town that has a priest.’

She frowned. ‘A priest?’ Then she grinned. ‘Oh, I see, to wash away the taint of Vulpan with holy water. Then I want him to bathe my neck with it because—’

Kirin cut her off. ‘No, I need a priest so that he can marry us.’

At first Lily stared at him. He knew she was likely running his words through her mind to be sure she had heard right. Finally she pulled at her horse’s reins, stopping it. ‘Marry us? You and I?’

‘I wasn’t planning on wedding one of these horses,’ he said, hoping sarcasm would cover his self-consciousness.

‘I can’t marry you,’ she said, and he winced at the horror in her voice.

‘Nevertheless, you must.’

‘Kirin, I am to be married in the next moon or so,’ she gabbled. ‘I am to be the wife of Kilt Faris. This is…this is ridiculous.’

‘Is it?’

‘Well, isn’t it?’ she demanded. Even angry she was attractive, Kirin decided, noticing the splash of colour at her cheeks, the way she flicked her hair and how her voice had deepened. ‘I mean, we’re strangers!’

‘Indeed. But perhaps you should have thought of that before you made claim to be my wife or accepted the dangerous and frankly idiotic mission to play spy for your husband-to-be.’

‘Kilt didn’t expect all of this to occur,’ she snarled. ‘And I was in a bind.’

‘And now you’re in a bigger one. Vulpan knows you’re not Vested. He doesn’t understand how this can be, or why, but he senses a ruse. He plans to mention the discrepancy to his superior, who happens to be the emperor. Would you like to imagine how that conversation might go?’ Kirin shook his head. ‘Loethar knows I am not married. I left the palace barely days ago as a single man. So that combined with Vulpan’s suspicions…we cannot risk Freath and myself. We are the only allies to Valisar in the palace and now that we know Leonel lives, we have all the more reason to protect him.’

‘When we were talking before you confessed you weren’t sure the fight was worth it,’ she accused.

He nodded. ‘That’s true. It’s one of the reasons I left Freath alone to meet with your intended husband. I still believe that
Loethar is making a good fist of ruling the new empire and I needed some distance from our struggle to work out whether fighting him in this way is wise. But since meeting Vulpan, I realise Loethar is still overly concerned with manipulating power. He wants to control the magic Vested in our land through our people. One person alone should not have that sort of access or control. Freath is right; even though life is more than tolerable now, we should still attempt to return the Valisar line to the throne.’

‘Vulpan scared you that much?’

‘Vulpan is evil, Lily. You know it, you felt his touch. I looked within him; he craves power. He wants to be indispensable to the emperor. His talent is unique—I’ve never heard of such an uncanny ability—but because he strikes me as an individual with few scruples, he is also dangerous and frightening. If Loethar grants him too much power, who knows what the repercussions could be. He knows us now and he also knows one of your band, so you’d—’

‘What do you mean?’

Kirin shrugged. ‘I’m sorry, I should have mentioned this before. That’s why Freath and I came north; to warn Faris that whichever man was recently wounded he is now known to Vulpan and thus to the emperor.’

‘Lo save us!’

‘What?’ Kirin demanded, staring at Lily’s greying face, her hand clasped over her mouth. Then it dawned on him. ‘The king?’

She nodded, unable to speak.

‘Vulpan has tasted King Leonel’s blood?’ Kirin clarified, hardly daring to believe his own words.

‘It was an arrow wound, a chance encounter. Jewd got him away; though the wound was hardly a scratch, it was not life-threatening either.’

‘Oh, but it is!’ Kirin spat. ‘Vulpan now knows him.’ He looked away from her, dismayed and anxious. ‘But Freath will know this by now so he will take measures.’

‘What can be done?’

‘I don’t know. That’s why Vulpan is so dangerous. He’s in this area now because he’s scouring the midlands, sweeping north until he recognises his man.’

‘And he doesn’t even have to know his face.’

‘That’s the true darkness of his skill. Once he has tasted you, he doesn’t forget. He doesn’t even have to taste you again. It’s as if he can smell his victims.’

‘What are we going to do?’

‘I don’t know. But right now we have a more pressing problem to solve. If your Faris is sensible, he’ll remove the king to a safe place, perhaps beyond the empire.’ He ignored Lily as she shook her head. ‘But if you and I are going to survive long enough to see Leo on the throne, we must marry.’

‘Kilt will never forgive me.’

‘Faris will be lucky to attend your burial, Lily, if you don’t marry me.’

She looked shocked and he was relieved—at least she was finally grasping the importance of what he was proposing.

‘But what shall we say? No one’s going to believe us. Least of all Kilt Faris.’

‘This is not about Kilt Faris! You can tell him whatever you wish. What we have to worry about is what we tell the emperor.’ He urged his horse forward. ‘Come on, we can talk as we travel.’ Reluctantly, Lily joined him. ‘We shall have to say that I have known you since I was very young. Let’s say we lived near each other on Medhaven—that’s where I grew up.’

‘But I’ve never been there.’

He shrugged. ‘Can’t be helped. Loethar already has on record that Medhaven was my home when I was a child.’

‘And if they check up on me?’

‘We’ll cross that bridge if we reach it. So now let’s get our stories right. We’re about the same age, so it’s feasible we played together as youngsters. My father was a fletcher. He’s dead now. How about yours?’

‘My father, when I last saw him, was a leper but also a talented herbalist. I have no idea whether he’s dead or alive.’ Kirin heard the emotion in her voice.

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘Are you?’

‘That you don’t know whether he still lives? Of course I am. Why don’t you know more about him?’

‘It’s a long story, Kirin,’ she said, sounding suddenly weary.

‘Well, we’re going to be husband and wife. I need to know everything I can about you.’

‘I don’t know if I can do this.’

‘We have no choice. When all is done and Leonel is king, you can divorce me. Until then, your decisions affect my life.’

‘He’ll never forgive me,’ she repeated. Kirin made a dismissive gesture, but Lily persisted. ‘No, you don’t understand. Kilt is a man of his word. He’s intense in a way I find hard to explain. He will see this as betrayal and forgiveness for a betrayal of this level is impossible.’

‘If he can’t forgive you, Lily, he can’t love you enough.’

She stared at him, a mixture of indignation but also injury on her face. ‘How dare you.’

Kirin shrugged, unyielding. ‘If you were mine,’ he said softly, ‘and you told me about the life-threatening position you found yourself in, in which the only way to protect your life was to marry a stranger, I think I would find it within my heart to forgive you. No, I know I would. And I barely know you.’

Lily had no answer for his response. He could see the battle on her expressive face; offence was at war with how touched she was by his tender admission. Not another word passed between them until Kirin broke the awkward silence some time later.

‘I see smoke. We must be approaching a village.’

‘Possibly Hurtle, although I’ve lost my bearings,’ she offered. Though her voice was tight he could tell she was making an effort.

‘Lily, I know this is asking a lot of you but when we arrive we’ve got to look and act like lovers. You know, in the full bloom of love.’

She nodded, but said nothing.

He persisted. ‘Whatever I do, I will do purely to protect our disguise. Once we’re behind closed doors, I will not touch you, I promise.’

‘How decent of you,’ she said, her sarcasm biting.

‘I’m sorry.’

She turned to him, apology on her face. ‘It’s not your fault, Kirin. It’s mine. What’s more, you’ve already saved my life once, and here you are doing it again. I’m being ungracious. My father would be ashamed of me. I’m ashamed of me. I’m the one who is sorry and I will try hard, I give you my word.’

‘Well, that sounds like a good place to start,’ Kirin said, trying to inject some brightness into his voice. ‘Tell me about your parents. I’d like to know as much as I need to know.’ He looked at her, meeting her eyes straight on.

She frowned as she regarded him. ‘Why are you staring at me like that?’

‘Yes, I suppose I should have mentioned it. I find myself blind in my left eye.’

‘What?’ she exclaimed.

‘The price one pays,’ Kirin said matter of factly.

‘Blind, because of your magic, you mean?’ Lily asked, aghast now.

‘I’m afraid so. It’s been threatening to go for years and now it finally has.’ He gave her a rueful smile. ‘It’s a relief, really. Now I don’t need to fight it anymore. Perhaps that explains to you, though, my reluctance to use my power.’

‘I had no idea,’ Lily said, her voice shaking.

‘Why should you?’

‘I’m sorry, Kirin.’

‘Don’t be.’

‘But it’s my fault,’ she said, her distress intensifying. ‘You gave your sight for my life.’

‘I have another eye,’ he dismissed. ‘Now tell me about your father.’ At her distraught expression, he added, ‘Please, Lily, don’t make this harder.’

‘All right,’ she agreed hesitantly, though it was obvious she was struggling to ignore his revelation. ‘My father’s name is Greven. I haven’t spoken about him to anyone in many years. I’m not even sure whether to speak as though he is alive.’

Kirin listened as Lily sloughed away years of silence about her family, and sensed a melancholy settle around her like a shawl, until they were both enveloped within it.

Greven stared dully at the bloodied stump that his arm had become. He was quietly weeping. Piven had gone about the painful business of cauterising the wound by heating up the axe head and while Greven had still been in shock had placed the hot iron against the stump, sealing it.

Greven had shrieked and then fainted.

When he’d come to, Piven had regarded him with only love in his eyes. ‘I won’t heal this one, Greven,’ he explained gently. ‘My instincts tell me it has to remain this way. That’s why I used the flames rather than magic to close the wound.’ Greven had not responded, so Piven had continued, ripping up linen as a makeshift bandage. ‘This will have to do until we can get to the next town. I’ve rubbed it all over with merkin-leaf, so no infection should penetrate immediately.’

They had not exchanged words for some time now.

Finally Greven stirred. ‘Why did you do this?’ he growled, his good hand pushing the tears off his cheeks, as though he hated himself for that sign of weakness.

‘You know why,’ Piven replied, not looking at him.

Between them in the fire lay Greven’s hand. Greven struggled not to look at it, as each time he glanced at it he felt the bile rising.

‘Why don’t you tell me all the same?’ he said.

Piven sighed. ‘It’s pointless. We both understand what this is about. I can’t be sure but I think even Vyk does too. Perhaps you’re the attraction rather than me.’

‘He’s here for you alone,’ Greven said with no sense of doubt in his voice. ‘But I want to hear it from you.’

Piven turned. ‘How’s the pain?’

‘How do you think?’

The youth shrugged. ‘I’m hoping it’s bearable. On my way back from Green Herbery I followed a stream. Along its banks were some white willows and I grabbed some of the bark to boil with staren flowers that I found over there,’ he said, nodding his head towards the forest.

‘So you were very well prepared,’ Greven said, unable to disguise his anger.

Piven ignored it. ‘While you were skinning the rabbits, I prepared a liquor, much of which I poured down your throat when you passed out. That accounts for the stains on your shirt, if you’re wondering.’

‘Why don’t you just take my pain away?’ Greven sneered.

Piven checked his bandaging for any leakage but Greven snatched his arm away. Piven looked up at him. ‘I told you, it has to be natural, or it won’t work.’

‘What won’t work?’

Piven sat back. ‘That should do it,’ he said, concern in his voice.

‘
What
won’t work?’ Greven repeated icily.

‘The magic I need to draw from you.’

Greven gave a snort of disdain. ‘You’ve mutilated me for nothing, Piven. You’re delusional.’

Piven eyed him before shifting his gaze to the scorched hand that lay in the flames, bubbling and blackened. ‘Let’s see, shall we.’ Using a stick, he flicked the ugly mass onto the grass. ‘It doesn’t take much.’

‘Piven, don’t,’ Greven warned.

‘But you’re not a believer. I want to prove it.’

‘Don’t do it.’

‘I have to.’

‘No! Turn away from it.’

‘I’ve tried. But I’m already evil. Can’t you see it? But whatever it is, this darkness has claimed me. Now I need protection.’

Greven’s tears arrived anew. He shook his head as fresh rivulets formed on his cheeks. ‘If you pursue this, I am lost.’

Piven ignored his plea. ‘I’m glad you don’t deny me any longer; how you resisted me for so long is a miracle. Fear not, now we will always be together.’

‘Hating each other,’ Greven snarled.

Piven poked at the smoking hand. ‘The hate would be only one way. Towards me. I don’t hate you, Greven. I could never hate you.’

Greven retched as he watched the child he loved tear off a piece of cooked flesh from the severed hand. To add to his horror, the raven swooped down to land near the appendage, which now looked like a blistered claw.

‘Our companion may like to try some too,’ Piven said lightly but there was no amusement in his voice.

‘I won’t witness this,’ Greven said, desperately trying to stop himself from gagging.

‘You will sit there and bear witness, Greven,’ Piven ordered and now there was no lightness to his words or bearing. He placed the cooked flesh in his mouth and chewed, no revulsion in his expression. As he swallowed, Greven felt his world begin to spin. He couldn’t believe it. It seemed impossible that Piven could be Valisar, and yet deep down Greven’s whole body, his very soul, had known the truth; his own magic couldn’t lie. It knew a Valisar when it found one.

He couldn’t hear the words of binding but he could feel their effect. If the hacking off of his hand had hurt, this pain sucked all the breath out of his lungs. Through the screams he would later
learn were his own, he could suddenly feel the hideous binding of two lives as Piven consumed him. Now their hearts were beating in tandem and the movement of their blood pulsed in synchronism. For a few moments of nerve-tingling darkness, in which he hoped he had died, there was only silence.

And then he heard Piven speak through the void.
We are bound.

I hate you
, Greven groaned.

I expect you do. As I warned, the hate will always move towards rather than away from me
.

I will not help you.

You have no choice. You have no will anymore, other than to serve and keep me safe. Unlock your power, Greven. I can see it glowing within you like a river about to burst its banks
.

I will not give it to you.

Again, I say, you have no choice. It belongs to me
.

Then I will fight you.

And I will win. I own you.

The shadows surrounding Greven began to clear and with it all the pain left him, other than the throb where his hand had once been. As Piven’s face swam into view and Greven was able to refocus his eyes, he noticed with disgust that the raven was tearing ferociously at the withered hand. ‘What now?’ he growled.

‘Once Vyk has finished with it, we burn the bit of you that you no longer need and—’

‘So now you’ve become heartless, have you? Feeding me to a scavenger!’

‘Not at all,’ Piven said, frowning. ‘I sense this was meant to be. Ever since Vyk consumed a part of you, he can talk to me. He asked me to tell you that he is honouring you by eating you.’ Greven gave a sound of anguish. ‘He is done,’ Piven concluded.

‘Burn it!’ Greven demanded.

Piven sighed. Greven was sure the boy was talking to the bird at this moment. ‘Did you want to say anything?’ Piven asked, reaching down to pick up the hand by one of its roasted fingers.

‘Like what?’

‘Perhaps a blessing from Lo, or—’

‘Lo has deserted me. Toss it on the fire.’

‘As you wish,’ Piven said quietly and placed the hand into the flames.

They both watched it sizzle and crackle for a few minutes in silence before Greven’s attention was diverted by the nearby raven, cleaning its beak of his cooked flesh. Suppressing the desire to sicken at the sight of this, he tried to focus on what needed to be asked, but Piven spoke first.

‘Who were you meant for?’

‘Your father,’ Greven snapped. ‘How long have you known?’

‘That you are an aegis, or that King Brennus was my real father?’

‘Both, damn you!’

Piven shrugged. ‘I knew of your magic almost as soon as I placed my hand in yours ten anni ago. I didn’t know what it meant initially because I was still in my own stupor, but as my “madness” cleared, my intuition about life, who I was, who you were and so on, became clearer and clearer. As to your other question, I never doubted that Brennus was my father. From the moment I could think clearly enough to have logical thought I knew the truth in my heart.’

‘But you continued the ruse with me.’

Piven nodded. ‘Another Valisar secret. I was just continuing a fine family tradition. My parents wanted to offer their second heir as much protection as they possibly could. You have to admit, it was very clever.’

‘But what about your madness?’

‘Ah,’ Piven said, a tone of resignation in his voice. ‘That outcome they couldn’t have foreseen.’ He smiled sadly. ‘Despite all his forethought, it must have grieved my father greatly to realise his grand plan was thwarted by what appeared to be a twist of nature, far more cunning than he. Now I realise, of course, it was
not nature but the magic itself. You see, my father had none of the famed Valisar power and neither did his father. I think my great-grandfather might have been vaguely touched by it but even my great-great-grandfather missed out. No, we have to go back five generations to find a Valisar endowed with a level of magic that is spoken about as impressive.’

‘Piven, how do you know these things?’ Greven asked.

‘I suppose I was listening. I was trapped in a prison of my mind and while I couldn’t concentrate or even know what I was hearing, I was nonetheless always close by my father. Despite my so-called madness, he loved me and I felt his love. He kept me close, and he would often read to me from the books in his great library. I suppose during one of those sessions he must have shared the Valisar history with me. I think I learned plenty during those years without anyone realising it, least of all myself.’

‘But you were such a young child! Even a healthy, normal five anni old wouldn’t grasp what you did…surely?’ Greven asked, his loathing momentarily set aside as his fascination with Piven’s past sucked him deeper into his secret.

‘Young in years, perhaps, but as we can both tell, I am endowed with a mind far more mature than is normal for someone my age. Even at five I suspect I was drinking in a lot more information than a normal child of that age, despite my incapacity.’

‘And no one knew?’

Piven sighed and shook his head. ‘Not even I. But you must have felt something, Greven. If I’ve understood what my father discovered from the writings in his library, an aegis is aware of his power and is drawn to the Valisars like a moth to a flame. You knew, and still you came to me. You didn’t fight it.’

Greven held his head. He had guarded the knowledge for so long that the opportunity to finally admit his great secret served as a catharsis to the anger he’d harboured for all of his life. It cost him nothing to be honest with Piven for he was now bound to this young man until he died. He took a deep breath. ‘It takes
enormous willpower to resist the pull of the Valisar magic. It’s like a sickness. I yearn for it and yet I know I must fight it with every part of myself. It’s instinctive—no one had to tell me, I’ve just always known this. I kept testing and improving my resistance. Over the years I’d trust myself to get a little closer to the palace, constantly checking and double-checking my addiction to the calling but never wandering too close or too quickly. I practised and practised. I even once tried to stand on the fringe of the huge crowds gathered for one of the royal walks in the midlands. That went badly; I only just managed to escape the notice of King Brennus. As you rightly say, he wasn’t endowed with any useful magic of his own but even dormant Valisar sorcery reacts to the presence of its own aegis. And only its own, I might add. I remember how distracted Brennus suddenly became that day, looking around him…looking for me! I was standing on a hill and could see him clearly, but fortunately I was shielded by a crowd of other wellwishers. I was able to get away. I never got that close again.’ He looked up at Piven, a fresh gust of loathing washing through him. ‘But, it seems Brennus’s cunning and ingenuity caught me in its web all the same. I’m surprised you knew that you could trammel your father’s aegis.’

‘My Valisar magic was shielded and continued to be so while I emerged from my prison.’

‘True,’ Greven agreed. ‘I sensed your magic at the beginning, but told myself I was imagining it, or that it was a shadow of you being around the Valisars for so long. I was confident of my invulnerability. I could, to some degree, control the call to the magic around you because I was not born for you. My reaction to your father was immediate—I sickened instantly, lost my bearings and most of my control. But I don’t feel this reaction to you, nor did I with your brother.’

‘I see. So the burden is on the Valisar to find his aegis?’

‘Correct…or an aegis. It’s actually far easier for you Valisar heirs to find your own because your magic and the magic of your
aegis respond so dramatically to each other, as I’ve explained. Leo seemed to have no idea who I was and even if he did register something, I think he was in shock anyway; it would have easily slipped by him. I should add that I’m still very glad he spent the night in the crawlspace beneath our hut, however, and left the next day.’ He shook his head. ‘With you, it’s been so different. I have been on my guard constantly this last decade. The smell of your magic—I have no other way to describe it—began to intensify as you grew and I subsequently had to intensify my control with each passing year. I wanted to convince myself you were adopted, not blood. It was too much to believe that your madness was a ruse.’

‘Not my madness. My birth was the only ruse,’ Piven corrected.

‘Yes, it’s all crystal clear now. Nevertheless, you were not the Valisar that I was born for, so in this respect I had the upper hand. I knew as long as I continued to guard my secret with care I was safe. And I loved you by then, child. I could not have turned you out.’

‘Now you despise me.’

Greven nodded. ‘You have robbed me of the freedom I spent my life protecting.’

‘Is it really so vile?’

Greven didn’t answer directly. ‘I went to the Academy at Cremond once in the hope of finding a cure for my disease. I met a very old scholar there, who had once had access to the royal library. He had helped your grandfather decipher some texts and had enjoyed the opportunity to read about—’

He was unable to finish his sentence. Vyk suddenly gave two big hops and lifted from the ground to flap into a nearby tree. Greven frowned and he and Piven were both looking around to see what had frightened Vyk when a man crested the small rise and stopped, staring at them dumbstruck.