Tyrant’s Blood

‘I think the people ahead in the carts are Vested.’

‘How could you possibly know that?’

He tried to shrug. ‘I think I recognise one or two of the folk. I’ve—’

‘You!’ the lead soldier yelled, pointing.

Kirin looked over and noticed with a rush of fright that the man pointed at him. ‘Me?’

He watched the man consult with another, who was not a soldier but wore distinctive scars, painted violet, that marked him as Wikken, a so-called seer of the Steppes. The Wikken whispered something to the soldier.

‘Name?’ the soldier demanded.

Truth was best, Kirin decided. ‘I am Kirin Felt.’

‘From?’

‘Penraven.’

‘Travelling from Francham?’

‘Yes. I had business to conduct there.’

‘What sort of business?’

‘The emperor’s business,’ Kirin replied, hoping his cutting tone would dismiss further questions.

The man appeared unnerved but once again listened to his scarred companion. He nodded, then asked, ‘Where are you going?’

‘Heading back to Brighthelm.’

‘Your business is done?’

‘Yes.’

‘And who are you to the emperor—what service is it that you perform?’

‘Nothing of such importance,’ Kirin began, trying to deflect attention that he had any relationship with Loethar. ‘I am simply a man of letters,’ he added, starting to craft a lie but realising instantly it was an error as the Wikken leaned across from his horse and whispered again.

‘Good, we will ask you then to accompany us.’

‘What?’ Kirin exclaimed. ‘No, I cannot, I’m afraid. I am expected at Brighthelm.’

‘We will get you there.’

‘But why must I come with you?’

‘We could use your help as a man of letters.’ Sarcasm had crept through into the soldier’s tone.

Kirin shook his head. ‘I’m sorry but I am supposed to go—’

The man laughed. ‘These people we carry wield the magic of the Vested,’ he said, untroubled by sharing this information with the whole caravan of traders. ‘But my companion here is Wikken. He has “smelled you”, Kirin Felt. You too are Vested.’

So it was the scarred man who had assaulted his mind, Kirin realised.

‘Who is this woman you travel with?’ the soldier demanded.

Before Kirin could respond, Lily spoke up. ‘I am his wife.’

Kirin turned and stared at her, taking care not to betray his shock. What was she up to? Why would she take such a risk?

‘Are you Vested?’ the soldier asked her.

‘Yes.’

Kirin could not tolerate this. ‘This woman is—’

‘Both of you will join us then,’ the soldier said, waving a hand and urging his horse forward.

The merchant leader looked helplessly at Kirin and shrugged. He guided his horse to him. ‘You’d better go, Master Felt. I’m sorry but I suspect they mean no harm.’

‘Do you?’ Kirin glared and then softened. It wasn’t the trader’s fault. He nodded sheepishly. ‘My apologies, sir.’

‘None needed. Go safely with Lo.’

There was nothing for it but for Kirin and Lily to turn their horses and join the group of soldiers, who coalesced around them without crowding them.

‘What did you do that for?’ Kirin demanded of Lily in an urgent whisper, staring ahead.

‘I’m asking myself the same question,’ she replied and he could hear in her voice that she was not lying.

‘It was stupid, Lily. This feels dangerous. What about your brother?’

‘Don’t worry about him.’

Kirin stared at her. ‘I’m not, I’m worried about you!’

‘Well, don’t,’ she said, tartly. ‘So, you’re Vested?’

He nodded. ‘You heard I work for the emperor,’ and as he noticed her attractive face darken at his words, he added in the lowest of murmurs, ‘but not in the way that you think.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Not now,’ he said, shaking his head. He was surprised to realise that in the last few minutes of alarm, the dizziness had passed and he was at least feeling well again, if not safe. ‘I shall tell you more when we’re alone.’

She seemed to accept this. ‘Who’s that man with the scars?’

‘He’s Wikken. Did you understand what the soldier was saying?’