Royal Exile

Gavriel shrugged. He too wasn’t sure about this. ‘I imagine because a baby is dangerous. It can give you away with a whimper if you’re hiding; it needs its mother and the kind of care that if we were on the run we couldn’t give. I think your sister’s death released your father from having to make that decision,’ he said, hating the lie as it treacherously left his lips. ‘I’m calling Morkom for your bath.’

‘But how is my father going to protect my little brother?’

‘I’m not sure. I’m not privy to that,’ Gavriel replied, utterly sure now that Piven would be ignored and left to Loethar’s discretion. No one wanted another child’s blood on his hands by killing Piven to save him from the barbarian.

‘I shall speak to him about Piven. Where is the king, do you know?’

‘I imagine he’s at the barracks. Our army is going to be facing the marauders soon. He’s probably doing his best to ensure their spirits are high, and their courage.’

‘What about ours?’

‘We’ll have to help each other.’ The words sounded prophetic as he said them. ‘And I think we have to get used to it.’

Loethar licked the blade, enjoying the sensation of the metallic tanginess in his mouth. Blue blood. Regal blood. He could get drunk on it. He looked at Stracker. ‘Impale him and all the family in the central square. That should reinforce who now controls Barronel and loosen a few tongues as to where any of the Vested may be.’

‘I presume you want a spectacle made of the rest of the family?’

‘Cross them. That always humbles an audience. And don’t hasten their deaths. No mercy.’

Stracker nodded, glancing at the enormous raven sitting on the back of Loethar’s chair.

‘I want sorcerers, witches, wizards — call them whatever you will, they’re all the same to me,’ Loethar continued. ‘But I want to know who the Vested are and where we can find them. Offer rewards, spread fear, use whatever tools necessary but I hunger for my knowledge. I must be fed.’ He grinned and the malevolence behind his words was heightened by the sight of his bloodstained teeth. He wiped his tongue along them, licking his lips at the residue of taste.

‘I shall see to it,’ Stracker said.

‘I plan to be alone tonight,’ Loethar added, then changed his mind. ‘Actually, send me up that cowering little princess. And have a barrel of wine brought up with her. Maybe it will help dull the sound of her shrieks.’

Both men laughed. Once his Right had departed, the contrived smile froze on Loethar’s face. He was close now. Very close. He hoped the Penravians were suffering in their dreams with images of the havoc he was going to loose upon them. He hoped they had heard the stories of what he had unleashed upon the rest of the Set, the terror he had achieved and the torturous pain he had heaped on each realm. Word ran ahead of him, he knew, and he hoped the people of Penraven were listening carefully, for he wanted their king … but most of all he wanted what the Valisar royals possessed. He stroked the raven’s head and it blinked its pale eyes.

‘Almost there now, Vyk,’ he cooed.

A knock dragged him from his thoughts. ‘Who is it?’ he yelled, convinced it could not yet be his entertainment for the evening.

‘It’s Valya,’ came the reply.

‘Come!’

Vyk swooped down to stand by the corpse as the door pushed open and a woman stepped through. ‘Am I interrupting, Loethar? Ah, I see it’s all over.’

‘Would it matter if you were?’

She smiled, slow and familiar, as she crossed the room, not at all fazed by the large bird or its warning caw at her approach. ‘I thought this too important to wait on. Being this close to Penraven, news travels fast.’

‘And?’

‘One of my spies in the city tells me that a death knell has been sounding for hours. Double shock for the people — you on one side of the walls and a royal death on the other.’ She laughed.

Loethar’s eyes narrowed. ‘Who? Surely not Brennus.’

‘No one’s ever said the man’s a coward. I doubt he’d kill himself to prevent your having the pleasure.’ She looked down at the dead king at her lover’s feet but her expression remained unchanged, unmoved by the sight of the decapitated royal. ‘But I have to wonder yet again why he didn’t try to dissuade you from your path.’

‘Because he’s been too comfortable wearing that all-powerful Valisar crown for too long. He believes in its invincibility. Only now might he be realising that I plan to teach him that even the Valisars can be toppled.’

She gave him a wry glance. ‘You know the Penravians will flee by ship.’

‘Yes, I do, because you’ve already told me that much. It’s not the people I care about, Valya. It’s the Valisars.’

‘So all this death and destruction has been about Brennus,’ she said, baldly.

‘It always has been. Him and his offspring and those who support them.’

None of the wryness had left her expression. ‘Just leave Cremond alone.’

‘I did. I don’t break promises. Do we know who’s dead in Penraven?’ he asked again.

She shook her head. ‘It could be any of them, but my guess is it’s the queen.’ She turned and spat onto the corpse, surprising Loethar. He wasn’t sure whether she was disgusted by the Queen of Penraven or by the King of Barronel, or whether she’d actually intended to hit Vyk. Whichever it was, it was a gesture of genuine viciousness.

‘Why would it be the queen? Too frightened of what I might do to her?’ he asked.

She ignored his query. ‘If they’ve got any sense they’ve already gone on one of their sumptuous royal schooners.’

‘He’s too proud to flee,’ Loethar replied.

‘I agree. The Valisars are stoic — even those who marry into the family. She would not lose face by taking her life. Don’t you see?’ She gave a rueful shrug. ‘I suspect the Valisar courage in the face of certain destruction will inspire their people.’

‘We’ll see how long that inspiration lasts when I have what I seek in my possession. Tell me why you think the queen is dead.’

‘Childbirth takes many victims,’ she said, her tone casual, disinterested.

‘Childbir—?’ he repeated, interrupting himself as the realisation dawned. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ His tone was threatening.

‘Sorry, did I fail to mention that the Penraven whore was spawning another brat? She is mother to the heir and also stepmother to a halfwit orphan she took pity upon. Now there is another who probably hasn’t survived birth. For you there’s only the eldest to worry about. I probably didn’t consider it important.’

‘You surprise me, Valya. I allow you to be my eyes and ears because you’re good at it but I expect you to tell me everything you learn. If you don’t, your skills are of no use to me, no matter how cunning your mind. I really should punish you,’ Loethar said, his mind already racing.

‘It doesn’t change anything,’ she countered, still sounding confident.

‘The news has ramifications.’

‘Not really. You plan to kill them all anyway, I assume.’

‘I don’t have any plan at this point,’ he reprimanded, ‘other than to watch Penraven’s famous walls be breached. Beyond that I shall wait and see.’

‘So, is this our new home?’ she asked, trailing her hand across a highly polished marble surface, the top to an elegant piece of furniture that had probably served as the king’s private dining table. ‘I rather like this — what an amazing colour it is.’

He forced his anger to cool. This was not the moment to lose his temper. ‘The famed Barronel marble from the deep earth quarries in its Vagero Hills.’

‘Stunning,’ she said absently, already moving to study the books in the small library the king had kept on hand in his suite. Vyk followed, hopping behind her.