Royal Exile

‘He always looks like that.’

‘True, but he’s safe for now. I think if Loether was going to kill your mother or brother it would already be done.’ He saw Leo nod, felt a tiny measure of relief. ‘Let’s think about our own situation,’ he said, hoping to distract his charge.

‘What do you think of my hiding spot?’ Leo asked, following Gavriel’s lead.

Gavriel was sure they’d be whispering like this for days to come. ‘Inspired. Who knows about this?’

‘Only my father.’

‘So now only you?’

‘It’s a secret known only to the king and heir, passing down through generations that way.’

‘So that’s why Freath was given such a cryptic message.’

Leo nodded. ‘father showed it to me when the troubles in the Set began several moons ago. He called it the ingress. It was built into the castle walls by King Cormoron centuries ago.’

Gavriel looked around at the narrow corridor in which they found themselves. Leo had had the forethought to grab a lantern as they ran into it via an exquisitely disguised entrance that even someone lifting the tapestry would likely not notice, and had used its flame to light a few tiny candles, that threw a ghostly glow but one still low enough not to attract attention through the peepholes they were now using to spy through. There was not sufficient room for the two of them to stand side by side and Gavriel thanked his stars he didn’t suffer Corbel’s dislike of enclosed spaces. He touched the cool stone. This hidden walkway had been deliberately designed and built for spying he now realised, exactly as they were, into the king’s main salon where presently Loethar presided.

‘Cormoran was obviously a man who trusted no one.’

‘Father used to play in these tiny spaces when he was a boy. His father told him about it when he was much younger than I am. I wish I’d known about it longer. I could have listened to so many conversations.’

‘Perhaps that’s why he didn’t mention it earlier,’ Gavriel whispered, his gaze never leaving Loethar. The barbarian sat quietly in a high-backed chair, watching Piven paint pictures on the floorboards with his father’s blood. ‘Is it limited to just behind this chamber?’

A cunning smile broke across the prince’s mouth. ‘No. There are several access points and all the main public chambers have these hidden chambers in the walls. So do some of the more private ones — my father’s salon, my mother’s apartments…’ Gavriel immediately decided Cormoron hadn’t trusted his queen. ‘… kitchen. I haven’t seen them all. But they’re all this tiny and uncomfortable.’

Gavriel’s attention returned to what Leo was saying. ‘No complaints,’ he admonished in a tight whisper. ‘It has saved not only your life but the Valisar line. There’s enough room to lie down, so we can sleep. If we keep the candles low and small, and only lit during daylight hours, we should go unnoticed indefinitely.’

‘What about food?’

‘I’ll have to think about that.’

‘I know how to get into and out of the kitchens. I’ve stolen birdcakes when Cook’s back was turned but this is obviously more risky.’

‘We’ll work something out,’ Gavin replied noncommittally.

‘Gavriel,’ the prince said solemnly. ‘I will never lose that image of father killing himself.’

‘I know, Leo. Look —’

‘No, wait. What I was about to say is that I’m deliberately going to carry that memory. Although few people take me seriously yet, I am a Valisar. That has been drummed into me since I was old enough to pay attention. Whatever I have to do to stay alive and make the barbarian pay for his cowardly deeds, I will do. So I’ll find us food and I’ll get us out when the time is right. We’ll have to learn the movements of their guards first.’

Gavriel wanted to cheer for the prince but his throat tightened with emotion at Leo’s stirring words and he just nodded, before saying, ‘We have to take off anything that could make noise, Leo. We’ll have to move around these narrow spaces in silence. If you’re going to sneeze or cough, you’ll have to smother it. We’ll need to tiptoe and whisper at all times.’

‘Lucky we had on our travel coats,’ Leo added.

And that reminded them both of being on the battlements and what had happened since.

Gavriel deliberately distracted the boy’s thoughts again, as well as his own. ‘We’ll have to pick a place to leave our waste. It’s not going to smell very nice soon but —’

Leo shook his head. ‘My great-grandfather thought of that,’ he whispered. ‘He and his son built an opening to piss down. It links up with a drophole.’

‘Ingenious,’ Gavriel muttered.

‘I’ll take you later to a spot where we can even sit down to take a shi —’

‘Surely not?’ Gavriel said, genuinely impressed.

Leo actually grinned. ‘It’s true, I tell you. The kings before us have thought of everything.’

‘They obviously enjoyed spying on people.’ Gavriel’s attention was grabbed by movement at the side of the room. The man called Stracker was back and the raven, which had been sitting quietly, was suddenly alert on its perch on one of the high-backed chairs. Gavriel nodded at Leo, and put a finger to his lips.

‘Back already?’ Loethar asked.

‘The cook is planning a feast for you tonight … if he can stop himself from gagging. He’s taken the king’s death hard.’ Stracker laughed.

‘Good,’ Loethar said. ‘I can still hardly believe I allowed it to happen that way. I should have known better.’

‘There’s someone waiting outside I thought you should meet.’

‘Who?’

‘The name’s Freath. Says he thinks he knows where you can find the other son.’

Gavriel stiffened behind the wall. ‘I’m going to kill that bastard,’ he hissed.

‘Lo save us!’ Leo murmured as Freath was brought in before Loethar. The aide did not look at all frightened. ‘But he doesn’t know where we are!’

‘Are you sure?’

Leo nodded, his mouth set. ‘I told you — no one else alive knows about the ingress except us two. And Piven, actually — he came exploring with me a couple of times.’

‘He doesn’t count.’

They heard Loethar’s voice and turned their attention back to the king’s salon.

‘And you are?’

‘The queen’s aide. Er, how should I address you, Master Loethar? Forgive me; I’m unsure of the protocol toward overthrowers of kings.’

Gavriel watched Loethar’s head snap sharply up from papers on Brennus’s desk to the man before him. He couldn’t see Loethar’s face but he imagined the barbarian’s eyes had narrowed as he scrutinised the servant, the silence lengthening. Meanwhile Vyk gave the newcomer a onceover, swooping down to hop around him.

‘I wish he’d peck his eyes out,’ Gavriel murmured to Leo.

‘You could call me emperor,’ Loethar finally replied, as though testing the word on his tongue. ‘Yes, emperor has a nice sound to it, don’t you think?’

‘Indeed it does, although “sire” is perhaps easier for your new people to stomach … so soon after conquest. I presume all realms now answer to you?’