Tyrant's Blood (42 page)

He sighed. ‘No sorrow. My mother led a hard life but she was a hard woman. As it turned out, revenge is always a cold satisfaction; it never quite lives up to the anticipation.’

‘Revenge? For what?’

Loethar seemed to come out of a trance. He blinked at her. ‘I have no idea why we’re having this conversation. I haven’t talked this much to a woman in years. Your brew is clearly having an effect on me, Elka, in loosening my tongue.’

She regarded him quizzically, then turned as Gavriel returned. ‘Can he move?’ he asked.

‘Not on his own,’ Elka replied. ‘Looks like I’m stuck with you for a little longer,’ she said to Loethar; then, turning back to Gavriel, she added, ‘I’ll carry him.’

‘Are you numbed yet?’ he asked Loethar.

‘Do you care?’

‘Not in the slightest. I hope it hurts far more than you can bear.’

Loethar actually smiled lopsidedly. ‘I can bear plenty.’

Gavriel turned his attention to Elka, ignoring their captive. ‘We haven’t been followed. Are you sure about coming with me?’

‘Well, you can’t move him on your own.’

‘Elka, there is no promise that anyone is waiting for us.’

‘I know. But unless you have another idea, we have to try and find them. I’m not leaving him here or alone with you.’

Loethar had appeared disinterested in their conversation but now he spoke up. ‘Who are we trying to find?’

Elka shot Gavriel a look but it was too late. He could show restraint for only so long. ‘King Leonel,’ he snarled.

For the first time since they’d encountered him, Loethar looked genuinely shocked.

They were moving slowly, tracking northwesterly, climbing all the time. It was nearing dawn and the landscape was unfolding before them once again in a thin, misty light as day began to waken.

‘Not bad progress at all,’ Jewd said, when they took a short rest. ‘Slow but steady. How are all your aches?’

‘Don’t worry about me,’ Kilt replied firmly. ‘I’ll take the bermine regularly and grit my teeth and ignore what it doesn’t cover.’

‘My hero!’ Jewd commented, feigning a swoon.

Leo chuckled.

Kilt glared at them. ‘Well, this is a jolly adventure for you both,’ he sneered.

‘All right, Kilt, you want us to be serious,’ Leo surprised him by saying. ‘Tell us this. What interest did Stracker, or Vulpan, for that matter, have in a clergyman?’

Kilt swung around to stare at Leo. ‘What do you mean?’ he replied, searching his mind for an excuse, absently checking the shields he was so practised at erecting in the king’s presence.

Leo shrugged. ‘Well, it strikes me as odd that they would have any interest in you at all. Why were they going to all that trouble to escort you alone with three guards, and Vulpan and Stracker in attendance? They were taking you north. Why?’

‘How should I know?’ Kilt said, knowing he replied a moment too soon. Even he could hear how it smacked of things left unsaid.
He sensed rather than watched Jewd’s eyes narrow, his expression turning from amusement to a soft frown. He refused to look at his big friend, for Jewd would know immediately that he was telling a lie. ‘I was given no reason,’ he added.

Leo nodded but didn’t seem convinced. ‘It just seemed odd, that’s all.’

‘What happened with Vulpan, anyway?’ Jewd asked.

‘He incarcerated me. What did you think he did?’

Jewd shrugged too. ‘Oh, I don’t know, I thought he might have tasted your blood.’

‘He did,’ Kilt replied, realising too late—in the space of a blink of an eye—that he had made the most terrible admission. Two errors in a row after years and years of being cleverly secretive.

He watched Jewd carefully but his big friend simply nodded. ‘And then what?’

Kilt forced himself to speak calmly and in an offhand way. ‘Oh, you know, typical questions. Why was I interested in Mrs Kirin Felt, essentially; I found myself spinning the usual lies.’ He frowned, showing his irritation. ‘This feels like an interrogation.’

Jewd grinned but Kilt could see the gesture carried no sincerity. They both knew each other too well…and each knew the other was lying right now. Jewd looked at the king. ‘Leo, run ahead, will you, and let me know what’s ahead of us beyond this hill. I suspect we should be able to get a clear view of where we need to head and plot our path before sundown. Another night sleeping rough, I’m afraid.’

Leo gave a soft snort of disgust. ‘That comment suggests that we sleep like royals back at the camp!’ He winked at Jewd and was gone, oblivious to the manipulation.

Jewd returned his attention to Kilt, who regarded him steadily, anticipating the confrontation.

‘We’ve been together too long to fool each other, Kilt.’

‘I don’t know what you’re digging for.’

‘Yes you do. I’m big, old friend, not thick. I told you a long time ago not to make that mistaken assumption.’

‘Jewd—’

‘The truth, now, or I walk away from this.’

‘What?’ Kilt felt shock like the water down his back.

‘You heard me. You nearly died back there. We all could have died, especially the lad.’

‘Jeopardising Leo’s life was your fault, your decision! I told you to stay behind. You didn’t—’

‘We did. No one else was going to save your arrogant arse. What did you think? You could just walk into the viper’s nest and come out unbitten?’

‘I just wanted information.’

‘Fair enough. But I don’t understand your needing to go alone. I don’t understand their interest in you. And I certainly don’t understand your reluctance to tell the truth…to me, of all people. Tell me the truth or I will walk away from you and from this strange life we’ve built alongside one another.’

Kilt stared at Jewd, feeling as though he didn’t recognise his closest friend. ‘I…’

‘Remember…big, not stupid,’ Jewd warned. ‘And hurry, before Leo returns. He has no idea that you’ve been lying to us, although he too is smarter than you give him credit for. He knows something isn’t adding up but he trusts you. I thought I did, too.’

‘And now you don’t?’

‘I don’t like lies between us. They compromise us. They lead to danger…like today. Let me make this easier for you. Let me tell you what I know…Vulpan is interested in one sort of person only. A Vested. That’s what he’s doing right now—compiling a list of Vested. He tasted Kirin Felt—Vested. He even tasted Lily because somehow she has convinced him that she too is Vested. And now he has tasted you. Why would he taste you, Kilt?’

‘I…really, I—’

Jewd stared at him, his eyes glittering with scorn. ‘He wouldn’t waste his time with you unless…’ He shook his head, seemingly unable to speak.

Kilt took a deep breath. He knew in his heart he should have explained it all many years ago…when they were children. He couldn’t lose his close friend. ‘Does it really change anything, Jewd?’ he asked, his voice hoarse with the emotion he wasn’t sure he had fully under control, his nagging pain momentarily forgotten.

Jewd blinked with shock. ‘Doesn’t it change everything?’

‘Why?’

‘Deceit is a poisonous ally.’

‘I haven’t deceived anyone.’

‘How do you arrive at that conclusion?’ Jewd’s expression had turned to barely disguised scorn.

‘Because it’s never been used.’

‘Until now.’

Kilt swallowed. ‘Yes, until yesterday.’

Jewd swung and punched the tree. His knuckles bloomed blood.

‘Ah, Jewd. Don’t, please,’ Kilt said softly, genuine remorse in his voice. ‘If I could go back or change this, I would.’

‘Me, Kilt. It’s me you’ve lied to.’

Kilt looked down. ‘I’ve been lying to myself, to tell the truth. I thought if I ignored it, if I refused to answer its call, I could beat it. And I did…I have. All these years I have never once fallen prey to its seductions. Not once, Jewd. I’ve been strong and utterly in control of it.’

‘Am I supposed to be proud?’

‘No, not proud. Understanding, perhaps. I do not want this. I never asked for it. It has been a permanent curse on my life, but I’ve beaten it day after day. You can’t know what willpower it takes to resist its call. Why do you think I went to the Academy? I thought there I could understand this thing inside me. But that only made it worse.’

Jewd took a breath. ‘What exactly is it that you can do?’

Kilt’s face twisted into disgust. He looked away, then up into the trees, considering his answer. Kilt could see Leo, who had arrived at the summit of the hill they were ascending. He was
scanning ahead and soon would be back. This conversation needed to be behind them by the time Leo returned, for Kilt had no intention of sharing his secret with the king. He sighed. ‘I have an odd ability to elicit information out of people, that’s all.’

Jewd regarded him suspiciously. ‘Against their will. Is that what you’re saying?’

Kilt nodded. ‘I can’t make it last for long. You see, nothing so special.’

‘I’d give my left nipple for such a skill, Kilt!’

‘No, you wouldn’t, Jewd. That’s the point. There’s a price.’

‘Such as?’

‘Well, I get nosebleeds every time I use the magic.’

‘I’ve never seen you with a nosebleed.’

‘And now you have the answer to your next question.’

Jewd looked suspicious. ‘So now you read minds?’

‘No, I think it’s obvious you want to ask me if I’ve ever used my ability against you. And as you’ve never seen me with a nosebleed, not only do you have the answer you want, but you can reassure yourself that I’m telling the truth when I say that I have not made use of the magic through our life together. The last time—before yesterday—was when I was barely a stripling youth.’

Jewd’s expression turned to one of awakening. ‘Nosebleeds, of course! It comes back to me now.’

‘Yes, well, you only saw me with them once or twice as a child, I recall.’

They both glanced up and saw Leo making tracks back towards them.

‘So you bled and Vulpan saw it, I take it,’ Jewd said.

‘Yes, damn it. It was the blood that attracted him to me. Once he tasted it, I had to admit my skills and naturally he refused to let me leave. I was being taken to join all the other Vested, presumably.’

‘Aren’t Vested supposed to be marked somehow?’ Jewd queried.

‘No, you’re thinking of the legend of an aegis,’ Kilt said dismissively. ‘That’s entirely different.’

‘I missed the nosebleed sign, though, didn’t I?’

‘I never gave you any,’ Kilt replied, his tone regretful. ‘I’m sorry, Jewd. You’re the last person I’d ever want to—’

His friend waved a hand. ‘You’ve told me now. I’m shocked. I’d be lying if I said anything different but I must accept it. I can see you don’t relish its company.’

‘I hate it! I’ve been running from it all my life.’

‘There’s nothing else?’

Kilt shook his head, despising the lie.

‘Well, we don’t have any need to discuss it again,’ Jewd said as Leo skidded down the final few paces.

‘You two look very serious,’ the king observed.

‘Kilt’s pain is intensifying,’ Jewd answered. ‘What did you see?’

‘The landscape is still, no riders anywhere on the roads or paths below. We need to swing more west now and I’ve found a good track that should make the going easier for you, Kilt. We’ll be back in familiar territory by nightfall if we make good time today.’

Kilt felt relief. ‘I’m going to need a spectacular disguise.’

‘What for?’ both of his companions asked at the same moment.

‘For when I go to Brighthelm and get Lily,’ he replied, surprised they needed to ask.

Roddy was exhausted from trailing the pair. He knew their names now. Petor was not Petor at all but a youth called Piven. And his companion was an older man he called Greven. They were not happy travellers, he noticed. The man was mostly silent. Piven did all the talking whenever there was any talking.

Roddy was good at tracking. Being an only child, he’d taught himself how to play alone and play quietly. The forest had become his playground and its animals his playmates. He had learned how to creep up on even the most timid squirrel and be able to watch it from a close distance without it suspecting. Following Piven was easy, although Roddy could feel the magic bristling around the youth who had saved his life. He still couldn’t understand why the
compulsion to follow Piven was irresistible, stronger even than his anxiety for his mother and how bereft she would be without him. But he couldn’t not follow the stranger.

Both Roddy and his mother had always known that Roddy was different to other children. The palsy in his hand had always fascinated his peers, while his mother’s neighbours simply used to sigh, squeeze his cheeks and make exclamations like
poor little mite
, or
perhaps he’ll grow out of it
.

Roddy knew he wouldn’t grow out of it. Instinctively he seemed to know and accept that it was his burden in life, and while it didn’t seem to stop him from leading a perfectly happy childhood, it did single him out. There was no pain, no discomfort at all; just a helpless tremor that was at times worse than others and that was completely out of his control.

When Petor had brought him back from the dead it had become worse. Whereas, before, his palsy hadn’t always been immediately noticeable, now even Roddy was aware of the constant trembling. There was suddenly no stopping it. The touch of Piven’s magic had awakened it.

Roddy tasted salt on his lips and was dragged back to the present. He had never seen the sea before. Though he had heard plenty about it, to be here looking at its vastness, its changing colours and its soothing monotony of constant movement, filled him with wonder. It felt dangerous but exhilarating and if he had not seen death just now, he might have been able to indulge his awe. But he felt the tug of fear as he looked again at the spot where an ancient looking man called Sergius had been flung from the top of a cliff.

Once again Piven had shocked him, ordering the death with such casual brutality. And what was more shocking was that once again the man called Greven had obeyed. Greven looked reluctant but he had still done as Piven demanded. Roddy considered this. He felt a strange kinship with Greven and a helpless fascination for Piven. He had to continue following them. In fact, he didn’t believe he could resist the call of Piven’s presence.

Dawn had broken, and beautiful she was, too, spreading across the sea as well as the fields inland. Roddy knew he would need to make a start if he was to catch up with Piven. He wasn’t worried, given his strong sense of direction and ability to track, but he didn’t want them to get so far in front that he lost their trail. Already they had several hours on him. But he had felt frozen to this spot, churning over in his mind what he’d witnessed and what he’d heard.

He moved at last, stretching from his crouched position in the hedgerow. He needed to eat something. He had deduced that Sergius lived nearby. Perhaps he should search for a hut. He didn’t want to see the man’s smashed body on the beach but he was helplessly drawn to the cliff’s edge. He peeked over, feeling a keen stab of sorrow to see Sergius crumpled into a tight position—as though he’d died in agony—at the cliff’s floor. As he stared sadly at the man he didn’t know and yet could grieve for, Roddy felt a stirring of magic that was powerful enough to make him suck in his breath. It touched him deep to the core and it was from within that he responded.

‘Where are you?’ he yelled, his breath now coming in shallow gasps.

‘Here,’ said a beautiful voice and the body of a woman whose torso ended in serpent coils reared up before him. She seemed to hang in the air and he dared not look down or wonder whether those coils went all the way to the beach from his high spot. ‘I am Cyrena.’ She was translucent, as though there but not fully formed. ‘Only you can see me, Roddy, if that’s what you’re scared of.’ She laughed and it sounded like glass tinkling. ‘Only you and Ravan, that is.’