The White Robe (66 page)

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Authors: Clare Smith

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Dark Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Sword & Sorcery

BOOK: The White Robe
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I don’t know, Lord Farrion, but King Newn Designate has commanded that you be taken to the cells below the palace where you are to answer for your treason and to wait on his majesty’s pleasure.”

 

His shoulders slumped; he knew he should have had the boy killed instead of keeping him alive out of sentiment for his dead father. He took a deep breath, pulled himself up straight and tried to look like he was the Regent still, not that it mattered now. As the soldiers closed in around him, he was sure that, unlike him, the young king wouldn’t suffer with the curse of sentimentality.

 

Newn sat back against the deep, soft pillows with his hands behind his head and felt extremely pleased with himself. Their love making had been exquisite, full of heat and passion and whilst Tarraquin was the only woman he had ever been with, he was certain that no other woman could make him feel like he did at that moment. He wondered if his father had felt the same about his mother and how often they had made love in this bed. As far as he knew, his father had no bastards but that, of course, didn’t mean that he had not fathered any. For all he knew, there could be dozens of half brothers in Tarbis just waiting to take the throne from him. He wondered what Tarraquin would say and do if he started spreading his seed around.

 

Tarraquin lay next to him with her eyes closed, a small smile on her lips and no sign on her face of the confused thoughts that were going through her mind. So far she hadn’t told him she was a queen, well, an ex queen with no throne. It had been a deliberate decision on her part, she wanted him to love her for what she was and not for her title or even possibly her lands, but she would have to tell him and soon. Someone was bound to ask her questions about her past, and it wouldn’t take much to link that with her name and come up with her title. She was sure that there wouldn’t be a problem, but it would be better if she was the one to tell Newn who she was.

 

The other problem was what she knew. Borman liked to boast about the things he had done when he was using her body, and his plans to annex Tarbis was one of those topics which could arouse him to hardness a second or even a third time. She knew what he had already done to secure the throne, and when she told Newn, he was going to be very angry. He would have to know of course, but timing was crucial. The last thing she needed was for him to go off and do something stupid.

 

He knew that Tarraquin wasn’t really asleep and wondered why she hadn’t tried to arouse him again, it wouldn’t take much. The thought of a city full of bastard half brothers had soured his mood a little, but not enough for him to feel displeased about the way things had gone or dampen his anticipation for what was to come. With Gadrin’s help it had been remarkably easy to take back the throne from his uncle. He had played his part in the planning, and then had left it to Gadrin to put his men in the right places and to ensure that anyone with power or influence enough to oppose him, were isolated or contained.

 

Despite his uncle’s peaceful reign, he hadn’t been popular, and there were very few who were prepared to stand up and support him, which had made his return to the city even more of a triumph. He had been genuinely pleased that the crowds had turned out to welcome him back with such enthusiasm, and he would repay their generosity by being as good a king as his father had been.

 

Before he could do that though he had to deal with Farrion, a task he looked forward to with anticipation. What he wanted from his uncle was a confession, and then preferably a public execution, but that would depend on the skill of Gadrin’s questioners. If Farrion’s body was too mutilated he might get some sympathy from the crowd, and he didn’t want that to happen. The thought of his uncle’s humiliation made his manhood rise and he was just about to roll over onto Tarraquin again when there was a knock at the door and someone called his name. He sighed in disappointment, kissed one of her exposed breasts and rolled out of bed taking a loose robe with him as he left the sleeping chamber.

 

Newn returned a short time later with a look of excitement on his face. “That was Gadrin. He says that his questioners have broken my uncle and he is ready to confess. Do you want to come and see?”

 

Tarraquin shook her head. “No, it was you he harmed, not me. You go and listen to what he has to say, but please be careful, don’t enjoy his pain too much, I don’t think it would be good for you.”

 

He scowled at her for her warning but then nodded in understanding; she could have a point. There were still times when he could feel the remnants of the beast lurking inside of him waiting for a chance to break out and take over. He dressed and then followed Gadrin through the palace and down to the lower levels where nobody wanted to go. There was no real need for him to follow the Commander, he had been down here as a boy to watch the questioners at work, not that they had been used much in his father’s reign.

 

On one occasion his father had brought him down here thinking that the sight of men being tortured would horrify his son and teach him to value life. He was wrong though; he had come to relish the experience, and used to sneak down there to watch without his father knowing. He had even participated once or twice when his father wasn’t there. He wondered what effect it would have on him now to press hot irons into another man’s flesh and hear him scream.

 

His uncle was unrecognisable, just a piece of meat really stretched between two posts. He had been beaten to soften him up and then castrated and his fingers and toes cut off. There were burn marks where his nipples had once been, and another iron, one like a pair of sheers, was heating in the brazier. Newn was sickened by the sight and the smell but stood close enough to the body so that he could hear anything which his uncle said. He gave one of the questioners a nod and the burly man picked up a glowing iron and held it against the inside of the prisoner’s thigh. Farrion opened his eyes wide and gasped, his throat too raw to scream any more.

 

“Nephew,” he whispered, “Why have you done this to me?”

 

“For what you did to my father and mother and for what you did to me.”

 

Farrion shook his head and sagged further into the straps that held him. “Your father’s death was not my doing, I loved my brother.”

 

“And my imprisonment?”

 

“It wasn’t at my command. I knew about it and could have set you free, but the beast would not have been safe here.”

 

He sagged again and lost consciousness. Newn nodded at the guard who used the hot iron from the brazier on Farrion’s other thigh bringing him back to the world with a jerk and an agonised groan.

 

“If not you, who did it then?”

 

Farrion closed his eyes and whispered, “Borman.”

 

Newn gave the questioner another nod and he stepped forward to use his iron again but Gadrin stopped him, a look of disapproval on his face. “Your Majesty, I don’t think your uncle will tell us anymore.”

 

“Do you think he was telling us the truth?”

 

Gadrin shrugged. “It would be very hard for a man in his position not to tell the truth.”

 

Newn nodded in agreement. He stood considering his uncle’s words for a moment, and then drew his knife and plunged it into the prisoner’s chest. The body shuddered once and was then still. He left the questioner to deal with the body feeling sickened by what had been done to his uncle, which was unusual; he had never felt that way before. Perhaps it was the effects of the enchantment or Tarraquin’s gentle influence on him, but whatever it was, it had given him a different perspective about life, much more like his father’s. It was something he would have to consider carefully, not only about the way it would affect how he would make decisions in the future, but how he could harness this new way of seeing things to benefit the kingdom. He was still deep in thought when he reached his rooms, Gadrin trailing after him like a shadow.

 

Tarraquin was waiting for him, dressed in a simple cream dress with yellow flowers, which had been one of his mother’s favourites. She stood when they came in and crossed hesitantly to him, when he stopped at the dresser to pour himself and Gadrin, a goblet of well watered wine. He would have preferred a shot of red berry spirit, once his favourite drink, but his ability to drink anything stronger than watered wine was another of those things which had changed too. Gadrin took a sip of the insipid wine, pulled a displeased face but thought it was best to say nothing.

 

Tarraquin waited for him to put his goblet down and then took his hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. She didn’t need to ask the question, she could see from his eyes that he was upset, but whilst he had been away, she had decided that she would tell him about herself and Borman and this was as good a time as any.

 

“Was it really awful?”

 

The prince nodded. “It was about as bad a way for a man to die as any.”

 

“I’m sorry, my love, but I’m sure it was necessary.” Newn gave her a disappointed look so she changed tack. “Did your uncle say anything?”

 

“Yes, but it doesn’t make sense. He whispered the name of Borman but why would he want to imprison me and why would Callabris do such a thing for him? He was my friend, he loved my father.”

 

She pulled him gently in the direction of a lounger and waited for him to sit before she sat next to him. She looked at Gadrin and scowled at him hoping that he would take the hint and go, but he ignored her. The wily old bushtail must have guessed that she knew something which she wasn’t saying.

 

“I think Borman did it because he wanted the throne of Tarbis and needed to discredit you and get you out of the way before he could act.”

 

Newn looked puzzled. “Why would he want the throne of Tarbis, he has his own kingdom in Northshield?”

 

“For the same reason he took my throne, the throne of Leersland.”

 

He looked at her even more puzzled, so she told him the whole story, from the death of her own father until the moment she had released him from the enchantment. That is, she told him everything, apart from the two most important points which she needed to phrase very carefully.

 

“I still don’t know why he would do such things. Callabris always taught me that it was the goddess who ordered the rule of the six kingdoms and the High Master, in her name, would not allow a man to rule more than one kingdom at a time.” Newn shook his head in confusion.

 

“Borman pays the High Master to look away,” said Tarraquin quietly.

 

Gadrin stepped forward from where he had been leaning against the wall by the door, a stern, accusing look on his face. “How do you know this? I don’t think you have been honest with us, it sounds suspiciously like you’ve been in collusion with Borman, and now you’ve changed sides hoping for something better.”

 

She looked down at her hands and took a deep breath. “You’re right, Commander Gadrin, I haven’t been honest with you, or the prince, but not in the way you suppose. Do you remember, Your Highness, you asked me where I’d obtained the bruises on my body and I said that I fell from my horse.” She laughed and shook her head. “I haven’t fallen from a horse since my third summer. I told you that, when I left you, I returned to Tarmin, but what I didn’t tell you was that I was Borman’s prisoner, and that he not only took my throne against my will but my body as well.”

 

Gadrin and Newn both looked horrified so she went quickly on. “You’ll understand that it’s not possible for a woman with no friends to resist a man who holds her life in his hands. Borman talked whilst he…” She swallowed back a tear and tried again. “Borman boasted about the plans that he’d made and the things that he’d done. He told me of how he tricked Callabris into putting that enchantment on you; he persuaded him to do it in order to protect your people from the misrule of a spoilt child who needed time to grow up.”

 

Newn stirred angrily and went to stand but Tarraquin held him down. “He told me how he’d duped your uncle into believing that he would help him to keep the throne by discrediting you and your line, so that when the enchantment killed you, Fallion could become the legitimate ruler of Tarbis.”

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