Tyrant's Blood (46 page)

Loethar could see the man—who, indeed, was certainly far from a boy—meant every word. The way his jaw ground told him de Vis was fighting his inclinations to kill him with every step of their journey. Despite his precarious situation he liked de Vis; liked his passion, his loyalty. Especially he admired his control. A lesser man would have gone for the transient pleasure of plunging his blade into his enemy but de Vis was exercising wisdom over heart right now, and that spoke droves for any man—young or old.

‘Gav, hush!’ Elka suddenly hissed. ‘Someone’s coming.’

As she said her final word, men melted out of the shadows, bows strung taut, arrows nocked. Loethar couldn’t believe they hadn’t spotted them until now; they were so close.

Elka immediately stepped in front of her two companions, reaching behind her for her bow.

‘Don’t. We’ll kill you before you can even bring your bow to the front,’ one of the men cautioned. Elka paused. ‘You,’ he added, nodding at Gavriel. ‘Drop the dagger. And you,’ he said, back to Elka, ‘remove that bow—carefully—and throw it over here.’

Elka did as she was instructed. Gavriel hesitated. ‘We’re looking for Kilt Faris. I am—’

An arrow sped out of the trees and landed perfectly between his feet, cutting off his words.

The man smiled. ‘The next one’s in your gut if you don’t obey.’

‘They’re not going to kill us,’ Loethar said conversationally, ‘or they would have done so. Look at their eyes. Dispassionate. They intend to question us.’

‘Drop the blade!’ the man commanded again.

‘Don’t, de Vis,’ Loethar said ‘Let’s see what they do then.’ He looked at Gavriel and winked and knew he’d struck a chord with the man, whose expression showed a glimmer of amusement.

Ah, a risk taker,
Loethar realised. He liked de Vis all the more.

‘Gavriel, do as they say,’ Elka demanded.

Gavriel shook his head, looked over at the leader. ‘Make me. I didn’t come here to create any trouble. I just need to find—’

The sound of the arrow being loosed cut off his words. Loethar yelped as the arrow embedded itself into his chest, just below the left shoulder. Gavriel yelled and Elka began to move but once again the calm leader got their attention.

‘Leave him!’ he commanded. ‘Next one’s for you,’ he said to Gavriel. ‘And then a third will kill your wounded companion,’ he added nodding at Loethar, who was lying on the ground.

‘Animals!’ Gavriel cursed. He ignored the warning and bent down to Loethar.

Loethar grinned at him. ‘Told you they don’t intend to kill us. But, de Vis, don’t enrage them any more, eh? I’m near dead now. Another word would probably do it and I think you want to give Leonel that satisfaction.’ He groaned and was surprised to see the consternation on de Vis’s face.

The men of the forest surrounded them. ‘Pick him up,’ the man commanded Gavriel and Elka. ‘Follow us.’

Kilt’s strength had ebbed in synchrony with the dying sun, and he was now being helped along by Jewd, having turned down the help of Leo’s shoulder. He was just managing to put one foot in front of the other. The sun was low but he remained optimistic that it would still be light when they hit the camp.

‘You’re serious, aren’t you? Magic!’ Leo said, half-scoffing, half-amazed as he loped along in front of them.

‘There is no other way, Leo,’ Kilt said, breathing rapidly to help the pain. ‘We can’t raise a credible army of fighters. A rabble of protesters, perhaps, filled with loyalist farmers or older men who
still remember the glory days of Penraven. But a fit, well-trained army is beyond us.’

‘But the Vested are—’

‘Listen to me,’ Kilt said, his vexation rising in tandem with the frustration of his injuries and his pain. ‘No one has ever thought to unite the Vested.’

‘Until Loethar.’

‘That’s right. Until Loethar.’ He gave a resigned sigh. ‘We might all hate him but the man is clever. Everything he does, he does with intelligence and cunning, even down to reinventing himself as the magnanimous emperor. And it’s because of his cunning and intelligence that your people now see him as a man to be looked up to…he’ll be remembered as a great ruler, I’m sure. So it’s up to you, Leo. If you want to put a Valisar on that throne, you’re going to have to show cunning and intelligence to match. You have no army and you have no prospects of raising one that can even begin to rival what he has in place. His men are tough and well trained and you know Stracker maintains the army to a very high level.’

‘What makes you think the Vested can achieve what we need?’

‘I don’t. But the Vested are an unknown quantity with powers perhaps even they don’t realise. None of us know what their magic can achieve, and while individually some of them are impressive, imagine all that individual power combined. Who knows how that power could be channelled?’

Leo nodded. ‘I’d never thought of it like that.’

‘No,’ Kilt said, less aggressively, ‘but your nemesis has. He’s way ahead of any of us. But what he doesn’t know is that you live and flourish and that if he can unite the Vested, so can you. Most of the Vested are now being carted off against their will to Barronel. They will be unhappy, hopefully angry. If we can infiltrate them, we can unite them.’

‘How do you propose to do that?’

Kilt hesitated, and Jewd came to the rescue. ‘Stop yabbering,
Kilt. You become heavier by the moment. Just support yourself and walk, Lo rot you!’

Leo looked over Kilt’s bent head. ‘That’s a bit rough, Jewd.’

‘Listen, let’s just get him safely to the camp. Then I’ll stop worrying, all right?’

Kilt glanced Jewd’s way and smiled his thanks. He hoped he and his big friend were never separated again; it seemed he needed Jewd more than he’d realised.

It was Leo who heard them first. ‘They’ve found us!’ he called, pleasure oozing from his voice.

Both his companions looked up. Kilt had never been so pleased to see Tern in his life. The man wore a wide grin.

‘Any sign of Lily?’ were Kilt’s first words.

Tern shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Kilt, nothing on Lily. But we have got company.’ He slung Kilt’s arm on his shoulder, taking over from Jewd. ‘Hello, Leo, Jewd. Good to have you back.’

‘What company?’ Kilt growled.

‘We don’t know,’ Tern admitted. ‘Two men and a woman who looks like one of the Davarigons. One of the men looks to be injured.’

‘What are they doing here?’ Kilt asked, not protesting as the men made him lift his legs so they could move him faster up the hill in a sort of chair fashioned from their arms. ‘Lo, I feel ridiculous.’

‘Shut up, Kilt, let’s just get out of the open and into the camp’s cover,’ Jewd rumbled, striding alongside. ‘Are they being discouraged?’ he said to Tern.

‘Dorv’s gone down to meet them. The problem is they seem to be making straight for us, as though they know where to find us.’

‘Which direction are they coming from?’

‘From town.’

‘What orders have you given Dorv?’ Kilt demanded.

‘To feel them out. If he can dissuade them from their path, he will. Otherwise, he’ll bring them close to the camp.’

‘Bah! So much for our secret place.’

Jewd gave Tern a look that said just tolerate his bad humour.

Elka, Gavriel and Loethar were left under the shade of a huge old fir. ‘Wait here, until we say otherwise,’ Dorv said, turning to leave. ‘The men have orders to shoot if you so much as look at them the wrong way. I suggest you don’t test us.’

‘Listen, I’ve been down this path before,’ Gavriel began, feeling as though he was living his last arrival into this camp all over again. ‘Tell Kilt Faris—’

‘I suggest you tend to your friend and stop worrying about giving me orders. That arrow needs to come out and it won’t be pretty.’

Dorv left them with five men watching them.

Gavriel swung around angrily.

‘Why didn’t you tell them who you are?’ Elka asked.

‘Because apart from not having the chance, it’s meaningless. I don’t recognise any of them and, besides, I suspect the name de Vis is long forgotten.’

‘Don’t you be so sure of it,’ Loethar wheezed from the ground. ‘I haven’t forgotten it and you can be sure Kilt Faris would know it.’

Gavriel shook his head. ‘I’m playing it safe. I’d rather tell Faris to his face who I am and who I have with me. I don’t want to give that information to his minions. We don’t even know if Faris is alive or still in charge.’

‘Both, I reckon,’ Loethar said, groaning and reaching for his shoulder.

‘Don’t touch it,’ Elka warned. ‘That needs proper care. I’m going to ask for some stuff.’

‘They won’t give it,’ Gavriel said sourly. ‘But don’t touch it anyway, Loethar. If Lily is still here, she can work wonders with her potions. Best to let her tend to your injuries.’

Loethar smiled. ‘I’m touched by your concern, de Vis.’

‘Don’t be,’ Gavriel growled self-consciously. ‘Just want you strong enough to meet your true enemy.’

‘I can’t wait.’

Elka began to move but an arrow landed to block her path. She stopped and glared at the man who’d loosed it.

‘Another into your thigh if you move again,’ he warned.

‘I want to ask for some supplies to help him,’ she said, pointing at Loethar.

‘Just be patient,’ he said. ‘Be still. Drink the water we’ve left you and remain silent until we receive our orders.’

‘Told you,’ Gavriel said. ‘I’ve done this before. These are not sympathetic men.’

‘You said they were loyal.’

‘Yes, loyal to the rule of Kilt Faris…and then Valisar, in their own twisted way. But the king of the forest is Faris.’

The trio were given an enthusiastic welcome from the men but Kilt, drained and weakened as he was, wanted to know about the strangers, with no time for celebration. ‘What do we know?’ Kilt asked Dorv, relieved to be back in familiar surrounds but wincing through the pain. He kept imagining how wonderful it would be if Lily bustled out of the trees, hurling anger at him for being stupid enough to get caught and injured.

‘The younger of the two men, strangely enough, is the leader. The other one is injured, badly enough that they’ve been helping him. The younger is a noble for sure, by the way he speaks, but curiously he moves with the surety of a tracker. He’s no soft noble and doesn’t look to me like he’s straight from the city. He’s sunbrowned. The older one baits him. I think—I could be wrong—but this older one seems to be a prisoner. They are not revealing much.’

‘And there’s definitely a Davarigon with them?’ Kilt asked.

Dorv nodded.

‘Are you sure?’

‘No doubt. I’ve seen Davarigons once before. She’s tall and broad, and her skins and weapons are all of the mountain people.’

‘What an odd mix,’ Kilt said, frowning. ‘All right. Where have you got them?’

‘Half a mile away.’ Dorv pointed.

‘Right, let’s go.’

‘Wait, Kilt,’ Jewd said. ‘There’s no need for you—’

Kilt glared at his friend. ‘Find me some of Lily’s restorative, Tern, would you? Jewd, help me down to where the strangers are. That’s an order.’

Jewd sighed. ‘You heard him,’ he said to the men.

‘Leo, you wait here. We can’t risk your being seen.’

‘Not on your life! I’ll hang back, but I’m not skulking here, afraid of my own shadow. I warned you, Kilt—’

‘All right, all right,’ Kilt said, holding up a hand as though Leo’s very words hurt him. ‘You win. I don’t have the strength to argue.’ Tern handed him a small pottery cup, which Kilt took wordlessly, tipping the contents down his throat. He made a sound of anguish. ‘Lo, but that tastes like hell.’ He tossed the cup aside. ‘Let’s go. But I mean it, Leo, stay out of sight.’

Gavriel sat with his back to Loethar, his emotions torn and confused. How was he suddenly feeling sympathy and respect for the hated emperor! He could almost be grateful for his memory loss now; without it he knew in his heart that he would not have found the control to overcome the desire to kill the man who slew his father so callously. The distance of years and the lack of time to fester meant his grief had been diluted; it was fortunate for Loethar that while the immediate motivation to kill was there, maturity meant more wisdom and a cooler approach to fiery situations. He wondered if Leo was in the camp nearby, and whether the years would give him the same level of control when he was confronted by the slayer of his father.

Leo would be around twenty-two anni now. And Lily—oh Lo, Lily, for whom his whole sorry adventure from this place had begun—she would be a much older woman. Had she stayed here? He hoped not. Strange as it was, the candle that had been lit for Lily all those years ago burned just as fiercely now with the return of his memory. Unlike his memories of pain, the delight he had felt in her company ten anni previous had returned to him complete. He hoped with all of his heart that Lily had moved on, that no one knew where she was and that somewhere in the empire she was happily married with a family. To see her now would be too hard.

But in truth his greatest concern was seeing Leo again. King Brennus had entrusted him with arguably the most crucial role in the whole sorry saga of the invasion, and he had failed to fulfil it because of his pettiness over Kilt Faris and his lovelorn behaviour towards Lily. He felt devastated at letting down the Crown, his family name, and himself. Corbel would never have let anything get in the way of his duty.

Corbel. That was his next task, to hunt down his brother. But Leo had to come first. He cast a silent prayer now that Lo had watched over Leo in his absence and kept him safe. He knew he shouldn’t expect the king to recall their boyhood fun or how close they’d been through that traumatic time of the overthrow, but he hoped his offering of Loethar’s neck might go some of the way towards forgiveness.

‘Are you all right, Gav?’ Elka asked, sidling over.

He nodded. ‘Just wondering what’s next. I’m sorry I’ve dragged you into this, Elka. You would have been home by now in the mountains.’

She shrugged. ‘You didn’t make me do anything. I make my own decisions.’

‘There’s something I should tell you both,’ Loethar interrupted from behind them.

‘I don’t want to hear it,’ Gavriel replied. ‘I don’t want you to talk to me.’

‘But it’s important. It may be helpful at this point for you to know that I’m—’

‘Here they come,’ Elka cut across his words, standing. Gavriel followed suit and even Loethar struggled to lift his head, balancing on his elbows.

Gavriel grinned in relief. ‘That’s Kilt Faris,’ he murmured. ‘The one limping. He looks to be in as bad a shape as you, Loethar.’

‘Good,’ Loethar said, ‘you can limp along together,’ although his voice sounded choked. Gavriel glanced over at the emperor, whose eyes appeared slightly glazed and his expression unfathomable.
If Gavriel didn’t know better he’d say it looked like greed, possibly joy. It didn’t make sense. But he also didn’t care about Loethar right now.

He turned his attention back to Faris, his grin returning and widening. Gavriel lifted an arm, yet more relief and even gladness surging through him to see the familiar, albeit older and—Lo rot him—even more handsome face approaching.

‘Ho, Faris!’ he called.

Kilt Faris stopped dead.

Gavriel continued, ‘Good to see you, Jewd…Tern.’

‘Who are you?’ Faris demanded, clearly taken aback.

‘I didn’t think you’d recognise me. May I approach?’

Faris nodded.

‘Stay here,’ Gavriel said to Elka. ‘Watch him,’ he added, pointing to Loethar. ‘Don’t trust him.’ She gave him a look of disdain and he returned his attention to the men.

As he left the shadows of the tree, Gavriel realised dusk had fallen. He didn’t see Leo in their midst, and though his heart began to sink at this realisation, he forced himself to remain optimistic, striding towards the baffled group of men.

A cry went up from the trees. ‘Gavriel!’

Everyone looked around, startled, as another man, young, tall and sandy-haired, burst from the cover of the trees, yelling and laughing.

It was Leo. No mistaking it! Gavriel leapt into the air with a cry of unrestrained laughter and then he too was running, ignoring the arrows trained on him and the men who tried to stand in his way. He vaguely heard Faris give Leo a warning but he and Leo were an unstoppable force, charging towards each other and then, as undignified as his father might have deemed it, Gavriel had his arms clasped around Leo.

‘I’d recognise that arrogant stride anywhere!’ the young king bragged, his eyes searching to see behind Gavriel’s beard. ‘It is you, isn’t it, despite that slight limp I noticed?’

‘Yes, Leo. It’s me.’

They began to laugh again and then Gavriel pushed back. ‘Let me look at you. Lo, but you’re tall and so broad. And your voice is so deep!’

‘Never as tall or broad as you, though. When did you get so old?’

They clapped each other on the back, unable to tear happy gazes away.

‘So, de Vis, you finally return,’ said a familiar voice.

Gavriel swung around, his arm still slung around Leo, who was wearing a lopsided grin. ‘It’s a very long story, Faris, which I will gladly share with you.’

‘No longer the boy, I see,’ Faris commented wryly. ‘No longer the city noble, either.’

Gavriel nodded. ‘That’s true on both counts. I’ve spent all these years in the mountains.’

‘But why did you take all this time?’ Leo asked. ‘Gavriel, it’s been ten anni!’

Gavriel looked down. This was harder than he thought. ‘As I said, it’s a long story. Those warriors—I assume you saw them, they were left dead—they beat me badly enough that I lost my memory. It was returned to me only days ago.’ He eyed Leo. ‘As soon as I had my memory back, I had to come and find you.’

‘We tried to find you,’ Faris began. ‘But I fear not hard enough.’

Gavriel stopped him with a hand. ‘No need to explain. It’s the past and I was impetuous. Nay, stupid! I blame only myself. Let us leave that now. There are more important matters.’

‘Such as?’ Leo asked, eyes shining, his smile seemingly immovable.

Gavriel stepped back and bowed to Leo. He’d almost forgotten he addressed his sovereign. His father would turn in his grave! ‘Such as, the prisoner I’ve brought you, your majesty. Take a closer look, my king.’

All the men turned now to look at Loethar, who regarded them from a distance.

Leo stepped forward and squinted. Then he took another step, and another; his smile froze and then it disappeared. His expression moved from sunny to stormy in moments. And he began to shake his head.

‘Stop him!’ Gavriel murmured, leaping forward, realising that Leo didn’t have the benefit of either his years or the memory loss to dull the impact of seeing this man again.

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 recognised 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 realisation. 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 theatre 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 apologise 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 honour. ‘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.