Tyrant's Blood (25 page)

Valya blinked. ‘You’re quite sure she didn’t mean a daughter should be killed?’

‘I’m sure, empress. Her words were:
kill her and take a new wife.
She said that
bearing heirs is all you were good for and if you can’t do that, then…then you are a pointless—’

‘Stop, curse you!’ Valya exclaimed, her breath suddenly shallow.

‘I’m sorry, empress.’

She paced, wringing her hands. ‘Kill me?’ she said, testing the words aloud. ‘How did my husband reply?’

‘He didn’t, empress. He changed the subject to something about how history repeats itself. He seemed more concerned about his general’s intentions than the need to secure the rule with an heir.’

Valya sneered, enraged that Loethar had not even pretended to stick up for her. ‘Well, of course he would be.’

‘Dara Negev did say, now I think about it, that as long as she was alive, the emperor was safe, but beyond her death she couldn’t say.’

Valya pulled aside a tapestry and from a shelf recessed into the stone behind it took down a small wooden chest. Opening the chest, she took out a few coins. ‘Here, Fren. This should feed your family for a month at least.’

The boy’s eyes shone as the heavy coins landed in his hands, and he immediately tucked the money away in a pouch around his neck. ‘Thank you, empress.’

‘There’s more of that for you. Keep your eyes and ears open. I want to know everything you hear immediately. Do you understand? No matter what time of day or night.’

‘I understand,’ he said gravely, then bowed. ‘Thank you, empress.’

She flicked a hand at him, hardly noticing his departure as her mind fled to how she might protect herself. Well, she thought, rubbing at her belly, she wasn’t that easy to do away with.

Kirin stole a glance at Lily, glad that he could, thanking his luck that it was his left eye that was blind. She looked like a picture, standing here on the village green with dozens of other young couples. Her veil was not nearly as elaborate as some of the other girls’ veils but going by those he could see through the gauzy head coverings, his bride was by far the prettiest. Her cheeks looked flushed and she’d found a suitable dress from somewhere—he couldn’t imagine where. It looked old, the embroidered rosebuds slightly faded, and yet it wasn’t tatty and Lily made it look fresh and perfect. Her boots were muddy but he rather thought that summed up Lily—the little he knew of her, anyway. For a moment Kirin felt breathless. He was getting married.

‘Stop staring,’ Lily admonished out of the side of her mouth.

‘Sorry,’ he murmured.

‘Concentrate. Our bit’s coming up.’

He took a deep breath, listening as names were read out by the droning voice of the priest, clearly wearied by his role.

‘Master Kirin Felt and Maiden Lily Jeves?’

Maiden?
Kirin thought and had to stifle a smile, as did Lily, he noticed. How quaint. ‘In Lo’s presence, we solemnly swear,’ they both answered. Kirin noticed Lily’s smile fade as she proclaimed
her vow. He felt a pang of regret. It was a pity she was not in a position to mean it.

Kilt Faris was on a mission. He had already left the main camp and was hurrying back down from the high parts of the forest, ignoring the draw of Francham, where he had last lain with Lily, and heading furiously to Woodingdene, where Coder had overheard the breakaway party was headed.

While Leo’s threat echoed loudly, it was Faris’s mother’s words that burned in his mind:
you never realise the preciousness of what you’ve had until it’s lost
. Leaving his mother was the hardest task he’d ever had to face. When he had gone to the Academy, all his siblings had long ago left home and his father had been dead for many years. She had never made him feel guilty, had never asked him to stay, but he had known she had wished he would. When she’d laboriously embroidered those poignant words onto a kerchief with his initials she had nearly undone him. But he had left, as he knew he must, and despite his best intentions had not returned home to visit. Receiving the news of her death had made him feel broken, and, if he were honest, was probably the reason that he ultimately lost his way at the Academy, striking out instead for a completely different sort of life.

He had no idea where his two brothers lived or whether they even thought about him. He doubted it. They were twins and they had never needed him; they’d always had each other for companionship. As the younger brother he had been an encumbrance and their teasing had been relentless, especially over his differences. But he’d always been his mother’s favourite; she had reassured him time and time again that it was his very difference that made him so special. It was his mother who had suggested he keep his talent hidden and had counselled her twin sons to protect their brother’s ability. And she had recognised Faris’s intelligence from an early age; she had not been surprised when he had first broached the subject of moving to Cremond to
educate himself. She had even given him the solid silver cup his father had given her on the day of their wedding.

‘Sell it,’ she’d said. ‘It will fetch a handsome price melted down.’

He hadn’t wanted to take it but she’d pressed it into his hands, insisting. ‘It’s no good to me, son, but it can do some good for you.’

Leaving Jewd had been equally tough. Jewd was a brother to him—even back then—and the separation had been terrible, with Kilt feeling as though he’d been cut adrift from everything familiar, everything he trusted. When Jewd had brought the news of Kilt’s mother’s passing, they’d both felt a similar urge to disappear from all that was familiar.

It was reckless, the action of youth, but it had felt wonderful to leave the Academy. They’d bought two horses and, with no plan in mind, moved in whichever direction had taken their fancy, making their living as highwaymen. From their first theft Kilt had made Jewd promise that they would keep no more than what they needed to eat and clothe themselves. The rest he anonymously donated to the convent in the east, two orphanages—one in the midlands and another down south—a small leper community on Medhaven, and so it went. Any group of people that he and Jewd felt were trying to help the less fortunate received a share of their spoils. The recipients were never told who their benefactors were although Kilt felt the wily Abbess had her strong suspicions.

There was not a happier time for him. At least not until ten anni ago when Lily had arrived in his life with a king in tow. And now his priorities had shifted. It had happened slowly at first, so gradually that he hadn’t noticed until Jewd had quietly mentioned that as he and Lily were like an old married couple they might as well make it official.

‘Are we really?’ Faris had remarked, dismayed.

Jewd had looked at him with a wry expression. ‘Well, it’s either old age or it’s Lily.’

‘But what do you mean? What’s so different?’

They’d been sitting on a log not far from the Stone of Lackmarin, staring down the incline at the carpet that leaf-fall had laid. Jewd had shifted to regard his friend. ‘You jest, right?’

Faris had frowned and shaken his head.

‘Kilt, are you aware of how many precautions you now take before each raid? You’re driving the men nuts. And we raid so rarely now that sometimes I wonder how we’ll get through the winter on the few supplies we can afford.’

‘We make do, don’t we?’

‘We make do, indeed. But we don’t have much to spare. You may recall we used to give a lot back to the convent. Can you remember the last time we took coin to the Abbess? Or when we last sent money to the leper colony? Or gave to the orphanage at Talren? You always said you wanted to spread Penraven’s wealth around the whole Set, especially now it had a usurper for a ruler. Guess how long it’s been since we’ve given anything away!’

Faris shook his head.

‘Nearly four anni. Since then, we’ve lived pretty much hand to mouth.’

Faris felt his mouth fall open in shock.

‘No one’s complaining,’ Jewd continued, ‘because we all chose this life but—’

‘I understand,’ Faris had interrupted, for the first time realising how things had changed. ‘I think I’ve turned too cautious.’

Jewd had laid a beefy hand on his shoulder. ‘Lily’s a great catch, not someone to lose or to risk by living too dangerously. Plus, you’re grooming a king. You’ve done a grand job with Leo. When the time comes he will be prepared for whatever is thrown his way. He shoots an arrow as hard and as straight as any of us; his sword skills are dazzling, he—’

‘I know, I know, but still…’

‘What?’

‘I wish de Vis was still around. He had all the courtly graces and skills that Leo should have been taught.’

‘Leo already knows them. His education began the moment of his birth. When he came to us at nearly thirteen he already had sound, well honed skills.’

‘Yes, but de Vis would have polished them. Stupid fool. I’ll kill him myself if I ever clap eyes on him again. What possessed him to take off like that?’

‘You know what possessed him, so don’t play dumb. He was jealous over Lily’s obvious infatuation with you.’

‘But I didn’t—’

‘I know you didn’t,’ Jewd had interrupted. ‘I didn’t say you did. But, Kilt, you always stole the best girls from us lads even in our youth. It’s just who you are, how you look, how you act.’ He had shrugged. ‘And you do it without much effort, damn you.’ He had grinned. ‘De Vis reacted predictably—I should have seen it coming, anyway—but I’d certainly like to know who took him, or how he disappeared when he was so badly injured.’

‘Someone took him all right, and the arrow Leo found tells us it was a Davarigon. But why he was taken is a mystery.’

‘We’ve never followed that up properly, have we?’

Kilt had shaken his head. ‘We’ve been so preoccupied with keeping Leo safe.’

‘That’s a poor excuse. Let’s make ourselves a couple of promises. I’ll start some gentle enquiries about the arrow.’

‘And the second promise?’

‘You marry Lily and make her happy.’

Faris remembered how he had looked at Jewd that lovely leaf-fall morning. ‘I don’t want to stop our life—’

‘No one’s asking you to, least of all Lily.’

‘Has she said something to you?’

Jewd had squirmed. ‘She doesn’t really have to. I’m just not as dense as you.’ They’d laughed sadly. ‘But I suspect she wants more than to just be your woman in the forest.’

‘You’re right.’ Faris had laughed a little. ‘I think at the back of my mind I’ve always believed I might not survive much longer.’

Jewd had grown serious. ‘Yes, me too.’

‘I feel so guilty about the men…about you—’

‘Don’t! We can all think for ourselves. We’ve all chosen. Life was easier for us before imperial rule, but none of us want to see Loethar’s reign continue.’

‘Married.’ Faris had tested the sound of the word. ‘Sounds nice.’

‘Doesn’t have to change anything. Lily won’t want to leave the forest and frankly, Kilt, if you don’t ask her, I’ll marry her.’

‘All right,’ he’d said, grinning. ‘But you keep your end of the bargain. I’ve been remiss in not following up the de Vis mystery. Let’s start tracking that arrow more aggressively.’

That had been the plan. And then Freath had suddenly entered their lives, changing everything.
Damn the young king’s impetuous move!
Faris thought. He could have made good use of Freath’s obvious cunning and position in the palace.

He shook his head. Now that burning question had to take second priority. Lily going missing had pushed his mind into chaos. In fact, his whole life felt suddenly out of his normally very tight control. He was slipping badly if he hadn’t sensed all that anger in Leo, or seen what he was capable of. The youngster had little remorse in his heart for the killing; no matter what was coming out of Leo’s lips, Faris saw only satisfaction in the king’s eyes.

He was Valisar all right. Cold, ruthless, a blinkered view of what honour meant. Faris shook his head again with disgust.

Lily first. Then he would deal with the king. ‘I’d better find Lily soon,’ he muttered to himself, ‘because very soon Leo will work out for himself that his authority trumps mine.’

Lily stared at the bed, mortified.

‘Hope you like it?’ the innkeeper’s wife said, beaming widely.

Strolling around for hours on the green, trying to enjoy the festivities but really just killing time before the inevitable walk back to the inn had been bad enough. What awaited them turned out to be so much worse. They had been faced by an
uproarious welcome of festival revellers eager to view any of the newlyweds. Within moments Kirin was dripping, his head doused many times by ale in a curious ritual that was supposed to make his seed strong.

And it seemed that every man this night was permitted to kiss Lily. Strangers felt emboldened to kiss any bride they met. She had done her best to avoid the wet, slobbery smooches from the more drunken fellows, whom she was now convinced travelled into Hurtle just for the opportunity to freely kiss the girls. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d pursed her lips together to shut out a roaming tongue, or turned her head just in time so that a kiss was smeared on her chin instead of her lips.

Kirin had looked equally dumbstruck by the rituals, apologising every other minute, his hair, his nose, even his rather long and lovely eyelashes dripping with ale. She was staring at those same downcast eyelashes now, her face no doubt thunderous even though she knew none of this was his fault. There was so much to like about Kirin. She could tell he didn’t consider himself brave or strong and yet there was a quietly heroic quality about him that she found irresistible. With him there was no bluster, no muscles, no bravado. Kirin just seemed to possess courage and it was all the more poignant because he seemed such a lonely, somewhat sorrowful individual. And yet his smile and the dimples it produced were deliciously sunny. He was not smiling now, however.

‘Well?’ the innkeeper’s wife prompted.

‘Er, it’s a wonderful surprise,’ Kirin answered for them, when he clearly realised that Lily was too shocked to respond.

The woman’s smile widened, Lily noticed, if that were possible.

‘We like to make a fuss for our wedding guests, especially on festival night. My girls have done a lovely job, haven’t they?’

Lily stared at the bed strewn with petals and the fresh lavender stalks carpeting the floor. A scented candle was burning alongside
the bed and a heart had been formed from dried and jellied fruits left in the middle of the bed’s counterpane on a platter.

The innkeeper’s wife nudged her. ‘Eat the brambleberries, my girl. On your wedding night, it is said they will make you a son. If you want a daughter, go with the sugared verberries.’

Lily felt dizzy. ‘Thank you,’ was all she could force out.

‘All right, you youngsters, I know you’re in a hurry to be alone,’ she said. ‘I’ll—’

‘That’s kind of you,’ Kirin said, moving to show her the door, glancing anxiously at Lily.

‘Not so fast,’ the woman chortled. ‘You strangers, I don’t know!’ she said in feigned indignation. ‘I was just going to say I’d better send up the Kissing Party.’

‘Kissing Party?’ Lily felt faint.

The woman nodded. ‘We’ll get this over and done with quickly so you can have some peace.’ She bustled out of the room.

‘Kirin, I—’

‘I don’t know what she means, Lily, but I promise we’ll get through it quickly. Just hold on a bit longer,’ he begged.

They stood rooted to the spot in silence. All Lily could think of was washing her face using the bowl of water and flannels that she could see on the sideboard, sluicing away the slobber of men’s kisses. Poor Kilt. If he knew…

Her worried thoughts were interrupted by the merry sound of a stampede of people up the stairs, all singing wildly about love and fertility and being blessed by many years of affection and children. She moved closer to Kirin, instinctively clutching his arm. Kirin, Lo bless him, remained calm for both of them.