The King's Sons (The Herezoth Trilogy) (25 page)

Gratton
said, “I couldn’t come to the Palace without ambling out this way.”

Hune
asked Kansten, “You’ve heard of Bendelof Esper?”

Bendelof
had fought with the king and Kora Porteg, in the Crimson League. Kansten had
met her once or twice; she had come to one of Kansten’s birthday celebrations.

“Of
course I’ve heard of her. I don’t know much about her, though.”

Hune
asked Gratton to say something more. “You’ve more right than I, and you’ll do
your wife greater justice than I could.”

Gratton
didn’t stand, but he made sure he had Kansten’s full attention. Then he told
her, “Bendelof Esper put the king on his throne and put an end to Zalski
Forzythe’s reign of terror. She was as responsible for Rexson’s unexpected
coronation as any person living at the time. Years later, she went undercover
to save Hune here and his brothers when some renegade sorcerers had them
kidnapped. Thanks to her work as a spy, the king knew how and where to rescue
his sons. The year after that, when a scoundrel nobleman tried to assassinate
the Duke and Duchess of Ingleton—they were expecting their twins
then—Bendelof died to buy the couple time to escape. Escape they did.
Everything that pair’s accomplished, girl—the lives of their children,
all the Magic Council’s done—it’s thanks to my Bens.”

Kansten
swallowed air. Air and shame. Gratton’s eyes bore into hers, and Hune demanded,
“Ask me again how I can say a lack of magic’s no reason you can’t leave your
mark on Herezoth. Bendelof had no more magic than my dogs do.”

“Hune,
I was making no comment about Bendelof. I spoke of no one but myself. I’d never
take away from the sacrifices my mother’s friends….”

Gratton
asked, “Who’s your mother? Did she know Bennie?”

“I’m
Kora Porteg’s daughter.”

Gratton
rose to his feet. He shook Kansten’s hand with genuine gusto. “Bennie spoke
nothing but warmly about your family. I owe your uncle a great debt, though I
can’t claim we see eye to eye. He saved my career when Bennie died, when I
would have drunk it to destruction.”

“It’s
a pleasure to meet you,” Kansten stammered. Hune led her back toward the
Palace, she imagined to let Gratton have his privacy. He put an arm around
Kansten’s shoulder as he walked her to a secluded bench, one beneath a birch
and in front of a row of lilac. The flowers’ fragrance was bewitching, but not
enough to distract Kansten from her fear of discovery.

“Are
we all right to be here?”

“No
one without royal permission can enter the garden. Not even guardsmen.” The
prince took Kansten’s hand again. “You have to stop this,” he said. “You can’t
compare yourself like you do with your siblings. I did the same thing as a
boy.”

“Did
that man say you were kidnapped?”

Kansten
longed to hear more, but Hune only said, “No harm came of it.”

“How
old were you?”

“Eight.
That was a long time ago, and a tale for another moment.” Kansten nodded. “What
I’m trying to tell you is, I compared myself to my brothers a lot at that age.
I envied their telekinesis, even though they never used it. Even though they
never could. It wasn’t fair that they were bigger than me, stronger, treated
differently by everyone I knew—my parents were the exception. On top of
all that, I wasn’t their equal in magic. They had a power, a substantial one,
while I had nothing. I was far too young to understand my lack of magic was an
advantage in our situation. I wanted those powers they had.”

“Anyone
would,” said Kansten. Why was he spilling his soul this way?

“I
was walking a dangerous road, and when my mother noticed, she and my father set
me straight. They showed me I had talents Valkin and Neslan couldn’t claim.
They helped me believe I wasn’t inferior because I lacked the magic that ran in
my family.

“Kansten,
you have no less potential than your siblings. Your brothers haven’t stood by
August through all of this. They can’t claim the courage and the wit not to be
dumbstruck by royal birth. You saw them when they met me.”

Kansten
screwed her eyes shut. “I’m so sorry. They….”

“That
had nothing to do with you. Listen, they’re no factor in what you’re worth, and
I’m telling you, you’re worth more than what you esteem yourself.”

Kansten
opened her eyes. She was horribly aware that he still held her hand, and
firmly. Her voice came in a whisper. “Why do you tell me these things? Why
would you trouble at all about me?”

Hune
admitted, “I don’t know. I don’t, and that’s been annoying me, distracting me,
for two days now. What I’ve seen of your personality, knowing where you come
from…. You have the chance to be significant here. To improve this place. I
guess I can’t stand the thought of you squandering that because you can’t cast
a spell.”

Kansten
sighed. Her uncle, he was wiser than she gave him credit for. Perhaps Uncle Zac
simply knew the royal family well. “Which do you hold I could become?” she
asked. “Significant to Herezoth? Or to you?”

“Isn’t
that the same thing?”

Kansten
bit her bottom lip. “I suppose it would be. Hune, what do we do? We shouldn’t
risk something happening between us. We can’t….”

“We
can’t do this?”

Hune
kissed her. Kansten drew away from him, gaping. Upon her rejection, he looked
so horrified of his own daring, so repentant, Kansten’s shock soon gave way to
a soft smile, and she succumbed to her instinct to return his kiss before she
regained control of herself. Her hand shaking as she pulled it off his, she
said, “This is precisely what we can’t do. We can’t develop feelings for each
other.”

“Why
not?” he demanded. That caused her mouth to drop again.

“Why
not? Hune!”

“Why
shouldn’t we see if this goes somewhere? Why shouldn’t I, for one fool of a bloody
time, have something in my life that’s mine? Not something to benefit this
wreck of a kingdom, or my father, or my brother with his cursed identity
crisis, but me?”

Kansten
wrung her hands in her lap. “Hune, I’d like to see how things go myself. I would,
but…. It was here that a mob attacked my mother for being a sorceress. They
would have killed her, because she was too close to your father. They thought
she’d control him.”

“You’re
not a sorceress. And I’m not king. I’ll never be king, praise the Giver. It’s
not twenty-five years ago, either.”

“No,”
she agreed. “There’s no Zalski Forzythe. There’s Linstrom, a sorcerer just the
same, threatening to wipe a village off the map.”

“Don’t
underestimate what a difference it’s made, Vane coming back to Herezoth. Taking
up his title. He and August have been fine living a public life.”

“What
about Francie Rafe? Would you tell me she’s just dandy?”

Hune’s
voice quailed, but he insisted, “Vane’s changed the perception of magic. He
has. Maybe, if things went well between us, a link between the royal family and
a sorcerer’s family is the logical next step to what he’s accomplished. Can you
concede that’s a possibility?”

Kansten
muttered, “It’s possible. It’s that, yes.” What else could she say?

“Shall
we agree to spend some time together? Unbeknownst to our parents?”

A
knot of guilt twisted Kansten’s stomach. What her Uncle Zac would say…. And her
mother. Kora had always gone to such lengths to protect her children. And yet,
what was Kansten agreeing to? Conversation? How dastardly! She latched onto the
irony of the situation, the bit of humor, to compose herself.

She
said, “We’ll spend some time together. That’s innocent enough, or it should be.
Under normal circumstances. What if someone gets hurt because of us?”

“Because
we spoke to one another? That’s unlikely. Highly unlikely. The only people who
might get hurt are….” Were they themselves, but not physically. Heartbreak
Kansten would risk. Good Giver, she wasn’t that much of a coward. Someone she
loved being harmed, that was what frightened her.

“You’re
sure there’s no risk to other people? I’m trusting you to speak the truth.”

“As
much I complained about them not five minutes ago, I know what my obligations
are, to this kingdom and to my family. I would never forsake them. I wouldn’t
endanger others. You have my word there.”

She
nodded. “I’m keeping you from your work,” she reminded him.

“I
can finish with that tonight. Let’s talk a bit, if you can stay. Can you stay?
There’s no telling when our paths might next cross, and it’s like a breeze in
July to speak with you.”

To
speak with him felt more like being caught in a great, unexpected gust that
made Kansten teeter on unsteady feet, but she judged it best not to say
something like that. “I can stay some minutes, but not long. They’ll wonder
what’s happened to me, at Oakdowns.”

“Some
scant minutes will have to do, then,” Hune replied. Kansten smiled. The turns
of phrase he used, they were so different from anything she heard elsewhere.
Vane wasn’t pretentious enough to be formal with Kora’s family.

“I
suppose some scant minutes will,” Kansten agreed. Her tone was mocking, but
playfully so, and Hune grinned back at her.

She
almost asked about the Crystal Palace. She burned to know more about the building
and its origins, more than her uncle’s books said about the subject. Kansten
sensed, though, that topic of conversation would be of far less interest to
Hune than to herself, and she judged it inappropriate, somehow, to quench such
personal curiosity in the midst of the danger Linstrom posed. The smile faded
from her face, and she asked Hune, “How well do you know Francie Rafe? What do
you think of her?”

“I
hold her in the highest esteem. And I daresay it speaks volumes about you, if
you admire her the way you said. You couldn’t model your aspirations, your
values, on those of a worthier person.”

“Have
you worked much with the Magic Council?”

“As
often as I can arrange to. Francie, Vane, your uncle: their work’s important.
More important than your average merchant or financier realizes. Let’s see
now…. I organized a visit to Carphead, to the Academy, a couple of years ago
for my brothers and me.”

“What
did you do in Carphead?”

“We
spoke with the students over meals. Rode horses with them on a tour of the
village. Met with the Count of Carphead. He and Valkin each gave the town an
address; Valkin’s was perfect for the occasion. He has more of a way with words
than he believes.”

Kansten
lost track of time. They spoke for nearly an hour before she realized she must,
truly must, return to Oakdowns before dark fell. Hune would not dare kiss her
again, not after her reaction the first time, so when she noticed the sun had
sunk in the sky, she kissed him before rushing to the stables and away from the
Palace grounds.

CHAPTER
TWELVE

The King’s Revenge

When
the king joined Kora and Vane, Vane excused himself, which the sorceress was
hoping he’d do. The king had ridden to Oakdowns in no robe of office but in
plain clothing, such as any man in the street might wear. Kora preferred
Rexson, always, in that kind of garb, garb that reminded her of the time he had
spent disinherited and hunted. The time he had spent with her.

Kora
had removed her bandana, for the day was hot and the fabric made her forehead
sweat. She saw no harm in going without; Rexson was no stranger to her ruby.
He’d first met her the day the Giver had marked her with it. At this point the
two hadn’t spoken in a decade, and when Kora and Rexson found themselves alone,
he told her, “It’s always a joy to see you. Always, no matter the
circumstance.”

Kora
sighed. “I wish I could say the same. It’s always a crisis that brings us
together. Some horror or other.”

“The
occasions may turn more frequent soon enough, and more pleasant, if my
suspicions are correct.” Kora sent him a questioning stare, so he said, “Your
Kansten. My Hune.”

Kora
paled. “That isn’t possible.”

“Hune
and I spent the afternoon in the library, working—in my case—with
maps of Partsvale. Attempting to work, in that of my son. I couldn’t fathom the
cause of his distraction, until Kansten came to summon me. Hune said nothing,
but his eyes lit up. Then I made it here, to run into Zacry in the hall. He
informed me that Kansten and Hune had found time to get to know each other.”

“What?
He told
you
and said nothing to…?”

“Perhaps
he thought I needed to know, my son being who he is. Zac wouldn’t want you to
worry, Kora. He asked me not to tell you.”

“We
can’t allow this. We can’t let them….”

“How
would you stop them? I can’t claim to know your daughter, but I don’t suppose
she’d obey if you forbade her from speaking to my son. As for Hune…. He’s the
most down-to-earth of my children. Takes more joy in the simple things.

“Valkin
has no time to experience the simple things, I make sure of that. He keeps busy
with matters of state. I’m happiest, I’ve noticed, when I’m too busy to spare a
moment for philosophical musings or for nostalgia. It’s best Valkin keep
occupied, whether with serious work or more trivial matters like helping me
organize documents. Neslan is so grateful that his brother, and not he, will be
king after me that he’s only too willing to lend Valkin his full support. I’ve
seen him educated to fill that responsibility. Hune’s the one who tends to his
horse and hounds, who enjoys the open air on a spring day. He knows the
servants and the cityfolk on a personal level. I encourage him in such
pursuits, for the tasks fulfill him, and the time he spends outside the Palace
brings him knowledge to supplement Neslan’s. Hune’s common sense and
understanding of our people, of how they live, that will benefit Valkin as much
as the formal training Neslan enjoys.”

Kora
wished with all her soul Rexson’s youngest son had grown up so arrogant he
would never have shifted a glance toward her Kancat.

“My
wife and I have worried about Hune of late. It’s clear to both of us that few
women born noble would be a match to make him happy. I’ve always wanted my
children to be happy, Kora, as happy as possible. Hune too, I imagine, can’t
help but understand there’s something about a noblewoman’s hauteur that
repulses him. Whatever you daughter’s feelings about him, I can understand how
Hune might fall for her, and fall hard. I fear he already has. I don’t see
what’s to be done beyond impressing the need for discretion on them.”

“They
can’t marry, not safely. I will not have my daughter suffer what August has,
have some disgruntled duke try to stab her, or poison her tea, or….”

“If
they truly won’t be apart, why couldn’t they go to Traigland?”

“You
just told me how vital Hune will be to his brother. Not three minutes ago.
Rexson….”

“Couldn’t
Zacry, or Vane, transport Hune here on those occasions Valkin needs him?
Anyway, there’s no guarantee Hune and Kansten will seek to marry. They met only
two days ago. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves; there are more urgent matters.
The necklace?”

“Vane’s
cover’s as good as blown, but he’s safe, and he can tell you more of that. I
need to speak of Linstrom’s lover.”

Kora
knew now where Lottie lived. Where Vane could find her. The king’s spy painted
Lottie's feud with Terrance as a crack to wedge open; she swore the woman’s
regard for her nephew—the nephew in Yangerton, Linstrom’s true
target—was enough to tear her from the plot. Throughout the speech,
Rexson said nothing. He listened with a placid expression that confused Kora,
almost to the point of distracting her from her report. Only when she proposed
amnesty for the sorceress did the king reply. His words detracted nothing from
his inexplicable air of peace: no, better to say of trust.

“If
your instincts are saying we should go to Lottie, I’ll send Vane. I’ll send him
gladly. This feels just like the days of the Crimson League, Kora. Your
instincts never led us astray, not once over the course of a year, though it
felt five times that long you were with us. Far be it from me to doubt your
judgment now.”

Kora
took a deep breath. “I have to ask: are you considering having Linstrom
assassinated, and the rest of his sorcerers? To prevent a public panic?”

The
king refused to answer. He held her gaze, however; he held it steadily, and
Kora had known him well enough in their youths to take that as an affirmation.

“If
it comes to that, you’ll send me, do you understand? I won’t have Laskenay’s
son, have my brother, doing that kind of work. You won’t twist their loyalty to
you so that they stain themselves. Vane’s only killed when attacked, and my
brother, never. You and I…. The League….”

There
had been scouting missions with the Crimson League, and raids, many of which
had involved preemptive strikes. Kora paused, because she knew her voice would
weaken if she did not. Then she finished, “You’ll send me, Lanokas.”

The
king did not react to his old alias. He nodded his consent, and changed the
subject back to Linstrom’s lover as Kora dropped to the bed.

“Brief
Vane before he goes to Lottie, no? You’re the one with insight into Linstrom.
You’re the one who went on such missions for the League, to turn enemies.” Kora
agreed. “And make sure you’re tracking Linstrom while Vane’s gone. In fact,
have Vane transport you just outside Lottie’s door. If Linstrom makes an
appearance, you can intervene. I understand Vane’s been met with a visitor
already today.”

“He’s
damn lucky to be alive. But forget Vane, for now. Vane’s proven he can care for
himself. What of those who can’t, or won’t? What of our children?”

Kora
buried her face in her hands. She had left Herezoth a quarter-century ago, but
she could not deceive herself. The place had changed little. Its people had
changed little. She could hear them talking: men making lewd jokes over a
pitcher of ale, women whispering at their looms.

“Porteg’s daughter! I
swear, Kent, I heard it from my cousin what works at the Palace. Porteg’s
daughter and the prince. The bloody prince! … No, the youngest one. Same as the
mother herself, ha! The mother missed her chance to breed a pedigree, so she
sends her daughter in her stead. Perseverance like that deserves a toast. Give
‘em the blasted kingdom, I say. Just give it to ‘em, if they’ll wait that long
for it. If they want it that badly.”

“Shoots down them rumors
‘bout Porteg and the king, y’ know. He didn’t father her brats after all. She wouldn’t
send her daughter to wed a brother. Not even Porteg would do that.”

“Wouldn’t she?”

“Hang you, I’m tryin’ to
drink here. My stomach’s unsettled as it is.”

“Oh, Annette, they say
the tart’s got no more magic than me. But what does that matter? We all know
where she comes from. WHAT she comes from. What havoc she’ll wreak upon us.”

“
When will they learn, Katt? When will the
royals learn? Was Zalski not enough? Oh, I tell you, some days I wonder if it
wouldn’t have been best for him just to have killed them all. He nearly did, of
course. Things were bad with him, but at least a person knew what to expect.
Knew what was coming. The worst was already upon us. That’s a sight better than
this waiting for it to fall again.”

If
only the talk would be all. It wouldn’t. Threats would follow, perhaps threats
made good.

Kora
spoke without looking up, her voice muffled through her fingers. “I should
never have let Kansten come here. Never have let Vane convince me….”

The
king took a seat beside her, on the edge of the bed. He laid a hand on her
shoulder.

“It’s
crushing to think she’ll renew the insults directed at me, but that isn’t the
worst of it, not by half. I won’t have her suffer what I did, or worse. I won’t
have her know that pain. People are…. They’re so horribly cruel. She has no
understanding of that, of this place. She’s lived in such peace until now. I
made sure of that, Lanokas. I swore my children would know the serenity denied
me, no matter the cost to myself, no matter how difficult I found it to hide my
scars. I tried to redirect her aspirations, away from Herezoth, but she
wouldn’t have it. Perhaps I’m to blame for that. Perhaps I hid my scars too
well. Had she seen them, and known what Herezoth does to…. Whatever the reason,
Kansten stood firm. I gave in. I had to. I could give in or lose her respect. I
let her come here, but I never thought….”

Rexson
said, “Our children will be fine. Neither one of us would let them come to
harm, you know that. They’re adults, the both of them, and fine ones: bold and
resourceful, but dutiful. Responsible.” The king lifted her chin with a hand.
“My Hune is, at least, and I could tell that of your girl. How could she be
anything less, with you her mother? She’s determined to prove herself your
daughter, if I had to guess, though she’s clearly that and fully so.”

Kora
sighed. “She’s always felt broken. Less than whole, somehow, not having magic.”

The
king pressed his lips together. “I’d forgotten her lack of magic. That’s
something more to bring Hune and her together. He’s not the magic I have,
though his brothers….”

A
resigned nod from Kora. “Perhaps they’re meant to be,” she mused. “Meant to be
together, meant to be what we couldn’t.”

The
king repeated his exhortation not to worry. “They’re young, but they’re capable.
They each deserve a spouse worthy of them, though whether that’s each other….
Time will tell. It’s for them to determine, Kora. Should we rip them apart,
they would only resent us. We’ve no right to dictate their lives at the age
they’ve reached. I’ll keep Kansten safe, and if this match takes shape, the
political inconvenience is mine to worry about. I’d take on fiercer opposition
than that for my children’s sake.”

Rexson
was right. From the depths of memory, Kora dredged up the love she and the man
beside her once had shared; they would have married, had fate been kinder.
Would have felt no one ever born more blessed than they, to spend their lives
together. Imagining what could have been, how could Kora rip that chance from
under her daughter’s feet? How could she do anything else than wish her Kancat
every happiness? As Rexson had said, the pair needn’t live in Herezoth, should
they wish to marry in a year or two.

Kora
consented, “I won’t forbid Kansten to pass word with your sons, any one of them.
I’ll focus on the blessings she and Hune might share.”

“I’d
never let them come to harm,” the king repeated. Kora nodded, and thanked him
for the reassurance. Those were no empty words, knowing the man he was and the
power of his station. As Kora had nothing more to report to him, she judged it
best that he should go. He rose to do so, with a friendly grin and a fiendish
gleam in his eye.

Kora
had filled a glass of water in the room next door but not yet drunk it. It sat
on the bedside table nearest Rexson, and Kora, unsuspecting, wasn’t fast enough
to duck or to dodge the deluge of liquid he splashed in her bandana-free face.
Water slid down the front of her cotton frock, fell beneath it to wet her
chest. She sat so frozen she nearly let the glass he tossed to her in boyish
triumph land in her lap, but she caught it.

“Thought
I’d forgotten that tavern, didn’t you? The night you threw your ale at me?”

Kora
laughed through her shock. “To create a diversion! A necessary diversion!”

“Consider
yourself well paid. Two decades later, it’s true, but you know what they say
about revenge.”

Kora
rose to meet the king’s challenge, crossing her arms in protest. A crimson
shell appeared around her, one that no magic could breach, as far as experience
allowed her to hypothesize. She had been able to evoke that shell ever since
her ruby attached to her forehead at the age of seventeen. “Revenge should be
served as a cold dish, not a drink.”