The Prince of Exiles (The Exile Series) (28 page)

“Yes.”

“What a strange custom. Does the tree have a specific function in this park?”

“No … it’s just a tree. It’s there to be pretty. And … I dunno, give shade.”

“Ah, that’s a good function,” said Raven sagely, thinking of all the things one could do with a good patch of shade. Indeed, very clever of these Kindred to think of keeping such a thing nearby. Ingenious, dastardly devils.

Whispers had begun to follow them now – it appeared that Tym wasn’t the only one to recognize him as the former Prince of Ravens. But Davydd quelled the worst of it, and Raven was so caught up in the lives and sensory impressions of the people they passed that he didn’t think to make any more rude outbursts.

“It would be much easier if you weren’t wearing that shadow-cursed sword at your side,” Davydd said through smiling teeth as he waved more people past them. “Do you have to wear it everywhere you go?”

“Well the last time I left it somewhere a
kid
got thrown into a
tree
. So yes, I
have
to keep it with me. It’s a safety predicate.”

“Precaution,” Davydd corrected.

“Predilection,” Raven confirmed.

“All right,” Davydd said, eyeing the Blade distrustfully, careful not to let even the plain leather sheath touch him. “No need to go into details.”

“But the details are the way to the truth of all things – and I just want to tell the truth about
everything
,” Raven said. “Why do people keep secrets inside, they’re … they’re like
poison
that
kills fun!
Yes. Like that.”

“In Vionot Verailitas,” Davydd muttered.

“What does that mean?” Asked Raven.

“It means you tell the truth when you’re inebriated,” Davydd answered. “I heard it somewhere and I liked the ‘v’s.”

Raven laughed and clapped his hands. Davydd smiled broadly, mocking Raven with his sardonic smirk in an elder-brotherly sort of way.

“I used to play that game with Geofred,” Raven said loudly, and Davydd tensed, though through the haze of the dopalin Raven didn’t really notice. “We’d try to use as many ‘v’ words or ‘p’ words or ‘s’ words or ‘l’ words or –”

“Wow you
really
got a dose,” Davydd said, grimacing. They turned another corner, and Raven saw trees rising in the distance.

“Now see that’s cheating!” Raven almost yelled, before Davydd shot him a warning glance and he remembered he wasn’t supposed to be loud. “You’re only supposed to talk in v-words.”

“Very well,” Davydd said with a sigh.

“Good start!”

“V words only darling,” Davydd reminded him.

“Damn!”

“Still not a ‘v’ word.”

“Oh … riiiiight.”

“Okay,” Davydd said, exasperated, “do I need to say go, or are you ready to play now? You need me to set up rules?”

“No, no,” Raven said, with a sly grin. “
Verily
, I do not!”

He laughed silently and raised his eyebrows, grinning manically.

“You are
very
scary when you do that,” Davydd said, looking a little concerned. They had reached the park, and found a small stone bench to sit on underneath a tree.

“
Vouchsafe
the reason why,” Raven said. He was starting to really get into it now. It was one of the only games at which he’d been able to beat Geofred.

“
Vouchsafe?
Are you some dead poet?”

“Well, I don’t know if I can verify the versimilitude of that vexing yet vivaciously voiced, though most likely vindictively versed, vocal verbiage.”

Davydd stared at him.

“I’m starting to sense this was a bad idea,” he said with some reluctance. Raven leaned forward, trying to whisper in Davydd’s ear so as to keep quiet like he’d been asked. Davydd recoiled in surprise, which deposited Raven on the ground in a heap.

Davydd immediately burst into laughter, the sound of it rolling out in deep, rich, waves.

“Vainglorious vat of virgal viciousness,” Raven said as he righted himself.

Davydd reached down to help him up, and when they resumed their seats, Raven once more launched himself into the game.

“Just because I’m violently voluble with a varying vervacity –”

Tym arrived just then with a big clay jug of water, which he gave to Davydd.

“Too bad Auty isn’t here to see this,” Davydd said out of the corner of his mouth to the young boy, who giggled silently.

“Ah yes!” Cried Raven, thinking of the newly made Major. “Voivode Autmaran!

“Voivode?”

“Verily.”

“It means ‘officer’ or something like that I think,” said a small voice.

Raven looked around, confused, and then realized it must have been the tree that had spoken. It was the only logical place from which the voice could have come. He pressed his ear against the scratchy bark and began to croon softly to it in nonsense syllables, but just as he was really picking up strength Davydd clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Let’s add singing to the list of things you’re not allowed to do, all right?”

Raven nodded, and Davydd removed his hand.

“But the verdant tree voiced itself!”

Davydd smirked at him and then pointed to the kid. The Tym kid.

“Ohhhhhh,” Raven said, “valid alternative.”

“Where’d you learn that word?” Davydd asked the boy.

“I read a big book my dad had in his room called a dictionary. It’s the only book in the house, so even though it was really boring, I went through it. It had lots of words in it, and some pictures too. I mostly read it for the words though, the pictures weren’t that great.”

“Oh shadows and fire,” Davydd groaned, “I’m surrounded by them.”

“Verily,” Tym said with a smile.

“All right,” Davydd said, “you both win. I’m out. Game over.”

“Verify your voluntary voidification,” Raven said, pointing a stern finger at him. “Otherwise my victory is invalid.”

Davydd rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to give it a try, and then stopped. He turned to Tym.

“Translate.”

“Okay,” the boy said with a smile.

“Tell him that he wins, and if he keeps speaking in “v” words I’ll silence him with a quick dagger to the neck.”

The small boy nodded, as if this were the most natural thing in the world, and then turned to Raven without even pausing to consider what words to use.

“Mister Davydd asked for you to void this vociferate vituperation, or he warns that he will violently vivisect your neck, hoping to venepuncture a vital vessel of your vasculature.”

“Ah, well why didn’t he just say so?” Raven asked, grinning cheekily at Davydd.

“You ruin fun, you know that? Now drink this.”

Davydd held out a tankard filled with water that Tym had brought. Without questioning him, Raven grabbed the cup and downed it in a series of huge gulps. He handed it back to Davydd and then looked around, confused.

“How did we
get
here?” He asked. They were in the middle of a large park, one that he vaguely remembered Leah leading him by on their way to the Odeon.

“Wait – why can’t we go back to … to … to my CABIN!”

The last word came out as a triumphant shout as he stood, arm outstretched and finger pointed; Davydd immediately grabbed him and pulled him back down.

“By the seven angels,” Davydd said, “keep it quiet. Good grief … I wish my sister was here to see you. She’d get a kick out of this, always complaining about how up-tight you are –”

“Your sister is Leah,” he broke in abruptly. “Leah Goldwyn. Eshendai. Spellblade. Five foot nine, perhaps ten. Black hair, green eyes.”

“Jeez,” Davydd breathed, laughing with the kid who was having a great time, “it’s like watching a comedic version of Iliad!”

“Black hair, green eyes,” Raven repeated, his mind fixated now on the image of Leah. “Scars criss-crossing her body, all over her body, I saw them when she didn’t have any clothes on. Some superficial, some deep, perhaps through muscle to the bone even –”

Davydd stood up and loomed over him, suddenly very menacing.

“
What did you just say about my sister?”

Raven looked up in surprise, jostled out of his litany by this strange interruption.

“I wasn’t speaking,” he said, offended. Had he been speaking? No. He’d just been thinking. Couldn’t a man be left alone with his thoughts?

 
“Wait … where
are
we? Let’s go to … to my CAB –”

Davydd managed to get a hand over Raven’s mouth before he got the word out a second time, and swept his legs out from under him, depositing him back on the bench in a surprised heap. The young boy was laughing his head off.

“I have a new game,” Davydd said, looking at him very intently.

“What’s this one?” Raven asked, excited.

“It’s called ‘Question Answering,’ I ask questions, you answer them honestly. Sound like fun?”

Raven screwed up his eyes for a second, and then shook his head.

“Nope. Gotta let me ask a question too.”

“What?”

“It’s gotta be
fair,
you get one question, and I get one question.”

“You get one question, I get twenty.”

“Deal!” Said Raven, very excited. “Why are your eyes so
red
?”

He leaned into the young man’s face, trying to get close enough to examine them, only aware in a very far-away and unimportant sense that he was invading Davydd’s personal space quite egregiously.

“That’s what you’re gonna go with?”

Raven nodded.

“Great, well, I dunno,” Davydd said, leaning away to gain some space, wrinkling his nose, “they just always have been, since I was born. My parents never had me tested for the Bloodmages, so I don’t know if it’s a mark of old blood or not. All I know is they got more red when I became a Spellblade, and women love them, so that’s enough for me, you know?”

Raven nodded sagely. Attracting women was a good reason for satisfaction.

“All right, my turn,” said Davydd. “You promise to answer truthfully, yeah?”

Raven immediately stood up straight and raised a hand to his heart – then decided halfway through the motion it would be more effective an oath if he swore on his forehead, so he punched himself in the temple and spoke:

“I swear by the Raven Talisman and my hope of salvation in the light of the Empress, that I will answer your question with honesty.”