Tyrant's Blood (38 page)

Kilt pointed at Leo’s leg. ‘He’s tasted you, your majesty. We cannot overlook the possibility that amidst all that confusion he recognised you.’

Dawning spread across their faces. ‘But he doesn’t know me! Doesn’t know who I truly am!’ Leo protested.

‘No, that’s right. But if what Freath says is true, then he will have recognised the blood of a man from the north. They don’t know which one, but they know you were one of the outlaw band and that’s all they’ll need. They now know that our men were rescuing Pastor Jeves. We know Loethar is too smart for his own good. He won’t necessarily arrive at the conclusion that they had Kilt Faris in their clutches but they’ll know they had someone who matters to the outlaw band. I reckon they’ll now intensify their search.’

Jewd was nodding. ‘Blind me! This is why you lead us. I just don’t think this far ahead.’

‘What about Lily?’ Leo asked.

Kilt sighed. His expression became still more shrouded with gloom. ‘She’s obviously using this
marriage
as a cover but as Stracker’s onto it I presume she and Felt will have to keep up the pretence in order to keep themselves safe. Especially as Lily has somehow passed herself off as Vested.’ Both his companions opened their mouths but he continued, cutting off their questions. ‘Don’t ask how because I don’t know, but she seems to have Vulpan tricked. He claims he’s felt the benefit of her magical touch.’ Kilt shook his head. ‘For now we have to let her go or we could compromise her disguise. I think Felt will take her back to Brighthelm.’

‘I’m sorry for you,’ Jewd said quietly.

‘Don’t be. This is all my fault,’ Kilt replied, his anger not well disguised. ‘Come on, we have to get back to the hideout. We must warn our band that imperial guards are going to be stepping up their search for us.’

Arriving at the entry to Francham, Loethar allowed Vulpan’s horse to move slightly ahead so he could speak to Stracker in relative privacy. ‘People don’t need to know I’m here. We want no fuss.’

Stracker shrugged. ‘I can’t stop them recognising you.’

‘I’ve grown a beard, I’m deliberately wearing rough clothes. Besides, they won’t be looking for me.’

‘What’s the secrecy for?’

‘A precaution. I don’t want Valya knowing I’m here, for instance.’ Stracker smiled unkindly. ‘Has wedded bliss worn off, brother?’

‘It was never present,’ Loethar replied. ‘Our child died,’ he added as bluntly.

Stracker was unmoved. ‘Son or daughter?’

‘A girl.’

His half-brother made a sound of disdain. ‘Then it doesn’t matter, does it?’

Loethar bit back on the retort that sprang easily to his lips. ‘I suppose not,’ he lied.

‘Is that why you’re running away?’

‘I’ve asked Valya to leave.’

‘Banished the bitch, eh? Excellent news. So that’s why you’re here.’

‘That and a couple of other things.’ He moved ahead of Stracker. ‘I’ll make my own arrangements but I shall see you later.’

‘Where?’

You know this town better than me. Somewhere quiet.’

‘How about the two-mile marker to the west?’

Loethar frowned. ‘In the forest?’

‘You said quiet,’ Stracker said, shrugging.

‘But I didn’t say dangerous.’

‘Don’t you trust me?’

‘Shouldn’t I?’

Stracker grinned. ‘Tell me now then. I don’t care either way.’

‘I would prefer you to have privacy when I give you this information.’

‘So cagey, Loethar, one would think you were sensitive to my feelings.’

‘In this instance I might be.’

‘Then I’ll see you at the two-mile marker. It’s quiet, private…and safe.’

Loethar nodded, holding his half-brother’s gaze. ‘When?’

‘Twilight.’

‘I’ll see you there.’

‘What about Vulpan?’

Loethar shook his head. ‘Right now he’s your concern. But from tomorrow we’re going to use him to track down the Faris gang once and for all.’ He saw soldiers—Greens, mainly—melting out of the throng of people, having recognised their general. Loethar did not want to be seen by them. ‘Until later, keep my secret.’

‘Happy to, brother,’ Stracker said to himself as he watched the emperor blend into the busy Francham main street.

It was nearing sunset when Gavriel and Elka led their horses out of the eastern foothills. They could see the activity of Francham ahead, chimneys smoking and lanterns beginning to be lit across the busy community. The town twinkled like a fairytale oasis in
the gradually falling light, the Dragonsback Mountains rearing to the north and the forest a dark blanket to the west.

‘Lo’s wrath!’ Gavriel remarked. ‘You told me it was a town. This looks like a small city.’

Elka was shaking her head. ‘If I wasn’t seeing it for myself I wouldn’t believe it,’ she admitted. ‘Ten anni ago it was little more than a large village on the verge of becoming a town.’

‘Well, it looks like it’s a thriving spot now.’

‘My brothers have been through here. They said it was a busy place but I think in their usual way they’ve understated the fact!’

Gavriel looked at her. ‘I know what you’re going to say next.’

She gave him a superior glare. ‘Then I don’t need to say it.’

‘Oh, but you must. I get such satisfaction out of knowing you so well.’

‘Not as well as you think,’ Elka cautioned.

Gavriel looked appropriately abashed and tried to change the subject. ‘So, want to spend another night under the stars with me?’

‘And there I was thinking you’d never ask,’ she answered wryly.

His change in subject had failed miserably.

She seemed to notice his discomfort. ‘Listen,’ she began, losing all the sarcasm in her voice. ‘You know that I don’t like being so obvious.’

‘Of course.’

‘So sleeping in the forest is far more alluring to me than a night at an inn where everyone wants to compare their height to mine or have a drink with me, or worse, arm wrestle me.’

He laughed. ‘I’d tell them not to bother. You always win.’

‘And lose me a fortune?’ she asked.

‘Save you a night of tedium, more like.’

‘So we’re agreed. We’ll stay in the forest?’

‘I can’t think of a better place. I really hate soft beds and ale and roasted meats,’ he said sarcastically.

‘Gavriel—’

‘Well done.’

She looked at him quizzically.

‘That’s the first time you’ve called me by my real name without stumbling or wincing.’

‘I had to get used to it.’

‘I know,’ he said, a sad note in his voice. ‘And I’m grateful for it. The moment the Quirin spoke my name I knew it was right.’

‘Have you remembered more?’

‘I don’t think there’s any more to know.’ He shrugged. ‘I was escorting a king to safety from the threat of the barbarian warlord Loethar, now the emperor. We got as far as the outlaw band in the north led by an arrogant swine called Kilt Faris—’

‘Was he really that bad?’

‘No, probably not, but I’m delving into memories from when I was seventeen. My judgement was different then. Anyway, we got separated, I got captured, you know the rest.’

‘How do you mean to find your brother?’

‘I have no idea, not a clue where he went and so no inkling of where to begin. I’m going to start from where I left off and hope things will begin to piece themselves together from there. Perhaps Corbel is looking for me.’

‘How do you know the king is still here? It seems highly unlikely,’ she said, pulling a face of doubt.

‘I agree but, Elka, I have to start somewhere. Faris’s hideout was the last place I was seen. At least if I can find Faris, he can tell me what’s become of Leo.’

She nodded. ‘Right. So we have a plan. Let’s go. Can we skirt Francham?’

‘No. We will take the direct route and ride heads high. If Francham has grown up so much, seeing you is not going to be the novelty it once was. I think you’re overestimating just how interesting you are, my lady.’

She gave him an audible sneer and kicked her horse forward. ‘Come on then, runt. Let’s go. We should have found our spot to camp by sundown.’

He grinned, and gestured with his hand for her to lead. ‘Height before beauty.’

When Loethar arrived at the two-mile marker, the sun had set and the forest canopy ensured it already felt like night had fallen fully. As the moon’s light was nearly absent due to thick cloud cover, Loethar had to depend on a single thick candle to illuminate the path. He’d left his horse tied to a tree at the end of the forest and had walked in, carrying only the small chest.

This was madness. He knew it in his heart. He was alone, vulnerable and very likely walking into a trap. He had to hope his half-brother still held enough respect for the memory of their mother to wait until her remains were properly dealt with before springing any attack.

Stracker was waiting for him. He was seated on a tree stump, pouring out a second goblet of wine. His own was half full. ‘I can’t remember the last time we did this, alone, in the wild. Here,’ he said, offering the full goblet.

Loethar gave a wry smile and took it.

Stracker held up his goblet. ‘To us!’

Loethar had never known Stracker to be sentimental but now was not the time to be churlish, he decided. He took the goblet and raised it, nodding. They sipped.

‘Did anyone recognise you?’ Stracker asked, standing.

‘Not a soul.’

‘Are you at The Lookout?’

Loethar nodded. ‘I’ll head back tomorrow.’ The wine was decent and he drank deeply again.

His half-brother drained his own cup, sighed, and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. ‘Such a swift visit. So tell me what is so urgent, so private.’

Loethar followed suit and drained his wine. He fixed Stracker with a dark gaze. There was no easy way to say it. ‘Our mother is dead.’

Loethar watched his half-brother’s confident expression falter momentarily. The tatua twisted before it relaxed again.

‘And that’s her, I suppose,’ Stracker said, nodding at the chest.

‘Her ashes.’

‘She was old but she wasn’t ailing when I left.’

‘She was poisoned, Stracker.’

Now the man showed some emotion. He stood and strode forward, looming over Loethar, his lips pulling back to reveal small, uncared-for teeth. The several rings hanging from one ear jangled angrily. ‘Accidental?’

Loethar had not shifted stance nor expression. It was important to hold his ground here as he knew this was a watershed moment for him and his violent sibling. ‘I believe she was murdered.’

‘Who?’

‘Valya.’

Stracker growled in an animal-like sound of despair. ‘And you banished her, you didn’t kill her!’

‘I have no proof. Only my suspicions.’

‘Why now?’

‘I think Valya got wind that our mother suggested she was a useless wife if she couldn’t produce an heir. I can’t imagine how, but perhaps Valya was spying on us that day in the chapel. Mother suggested then that Valya should be disposed of if she didn’t give me a son.’

Stracker stabbed a finger at Loethar, just stopping short of hitting his chest. ‘Our mother was right! Valya failed again and gave you a daughter—a dead one at that. Why a convent when a grave would be so much more appropriate?’ Loethar blinked. Stracker continued. ‘She should be hunted down and answer for her sin. How can you permit our mother to die under these circumstances and not make someone pay?’

‘I told you, no proof.’

‘You’re weak, brother. You’ve become so soft you can’t even control the Denovian slut you married.’

‘Valya is many things, Stracker, but she is not a slut. I think you should study the Set language before you use it. Perhaps you are better off back in the Steppes, speaking our tribal tongue?’

The tatua stretched as Stracker grinned with menace in the low candlelight. ‘And there I was thinking it was probably you who should go back.’

At last. They had arrived at the point that Loethar knew had been coming for years. His mother had warned him. Her intuition had become fact. And he had misjudged Stracker’s sense of honour.

It was Loethar’s turn to smile. ‘Is that a challenge, Stracker?’ He blinked a few times, suddenly feeling a warm blurriness in his head.

‘Certainly sounds like one. Are you surprised?’

Loethar shook his head in answer but also to clear his mind. ‘Not really. I just thought you might wait until our mother was properly committed to her god. But, Stracker, nothing’s changed, or have you been practising with that weapon at your side?’ His tongue felt suddenly thick in his mouth.

Stracker laughed. ‘I’m not that stupid, brother. I am well aware of your almost otherworldly sword skills.’

Loethar understood, decided to steal Stracker’s surprise. ‘And so it has come to this. Not even a fair contest but an ambush? Not very noble.’

‘I never claimed to be noble like you, brother. I am of the Steppes. We use cunning. There is no room for honour.’

He shook his head again to clear it. ‘That’s what makes you so unfit for leadership. Honour is something your father tried very hard to impress upon you. Whatever you think of me, Stracker, honour is my code. It always has been.’

‘I’m glad you have finally admitted that he was my father.’

‘He was a father to me all the same. And he was an honourable man.’

‘If he saw you now, I think he would be ashamed.’

‘I doubt it. I think his only shame for me is that I let you live.’ Loethar shifted balance and staggered slightly.

Stracker’s expression changed from smug enjoyment to genuine menace. He didn’t reach to help his kin. ‘Perhaps you should have killed me when you had your chance.’

‘I’ve had many chances, but for our mother’s sake I refused them all.’

‘And now you have no more.’

‘So you don’t plan to draw your sword on me?’ Loethar baited, listening for the inevitable sound he had been anticipating since he realised the trap had been laid. He could feel the drugged wine spreading its dulling, soporific effect far too quickly for him to do much to help himself.

Stracker shook his head and a malevolent grin returned to his face. ‘I just want you compliant and unable to draw your own. You’ll be conscious for a while yet I’m assured by the physic who prepared the brew for me. You’ll even be able to answer back! He laughed. They both looked over at the stump behind which another flask of wine had been hidden and clearly the one Stracker had used to pour his own goblet. ‘And now you’re going to endure the punishment that you have earned for many years.’ He nodded, glancing over Loethar’s shoulder. Loethar didn’t bother to even turn at the sound of the first twig snapping underfoot.

Neither of them had been hungry enough to go to the trouble of lighting a fire, let alone trapping a rabbit. Instead, they had munched on their plentiful supplies from the convent, happy to eat on the move as they looked for an appropriate spot to camp for the night.

They’d led the horses in and up about a mile past the-two mile marker when Gavriel had proclaimed himself spent and suggested they not even bother to light a fire. ‘I just want to sleep. It’s a mild night,’ he admitted.

She’d smiled at him. ‘Short and weak.’

‘Whatever you say,’ he’d muttered as he yawned, quickly
tethering the horses. They’d taken the precaution of watering them at Francham. ‘We’ll have to leave the animals tomorrow and proceed on foot.’

‘Nothing changes in the forest,’ she replied. ‘I know a good spot where they’ll be safe and protected.’

Gavriel nodded, yawned again. ‘Faris will find us first, most likely.’

‘What if you are not
found
immediately?’

‘Then we’ll have to return to Francham, perhaps leave the horses and I’ll try again in a few days.’

‘You don’t think people in town will begin to be suspicious of all the going backwards and forwards?’

‘If I have to return, I won’t be leaving until I find him,’ he warned. ‘There will be no going backwards and forwards.’

She sighed. ‘This is it for me, my friend. If we leave the forest empty-handed tomorrow, I’ll be making my way back east.’