Tyrant's Blood (39 page)

He nodded in the dark. ‘I understand, Elka. I’m grateful you’ve accompanied me this far.’

Nothing more had been said. They’d drifted into silence on that mournful note, the haunting sound of an owl and the chirrup of crickets accompanying them into sleep. Gavriel rolled into his sleeping pack and was snoring gently before Elka had even lowered herself to the ground to unravel her pack. As she turned to settle down, a light in the far distance, down the incline, caught her attention. She squinted, at it, concentrating. There it was again, and it was moving. Who would be coming into the forest at this time of the evening and why with such a low light? She clambered agilely over to Gavriel and shook him. He mumbled something unintelligible as he turned onto his back. Elka pinched him. ‘I said wake up!’ she urged.

Gavriel’s eyes flew awake, and he would have yelped if she hadn’t been fast enough to clamp her hand across his mouth. ‘Sssh!’ she cautioned. ‘We’ve got company.’

He nodded and she removed her hand.

‘Ouch!’ he muttered angrily.

She smiled in the dark. ‘Over there.’ She pointed.

‘I see it. What is that, a single candle?’

‘Looks like it.’

‘Bit of an odd time to be coming up into the forest,’ he mused.

‘My thoughts exactly—and clearly wanting to be kept secret. Anyone meaning to be here and not worried about being seen would use a lantern or two.’

‘It could be Faris’s men,’ Gavriel suggested.

‘Yes, that’s what I reckoned. Let’s go take a look and make sure they’re not about to stumble upon our horses.’

‘If it’s Faris—’

‘And if it’s not, we don’t want that sort of company. Come on, Gavriel, try to move as silently as we’ve taught you.’

‘Shut up, Elka. I move like a cat and you know it.’

She laughed softly and he realised he couldn’t hear her tread at all.

Loethar was gripped between two Greens, their strong fingers digging into the muscle at the top of his arm, a trick used by the warriors to deliberately numb a man’s body and his ability to fight back. He could already feel the telltale tingling in his fingers.

‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ he asked them. ‘I am your emperor but before that I am your tribal ruler. Your death warrant aside, are you happy to go to your god as a traitor to the Steppes tribal law?’

The man to his right faltered. Loethar knew it was not because he feared death—none of his warriors feared death—but because he feared the recrimination of the gods beyond death.

‘Aludane will never forgive your treachery,’ he continued. ‘You know the creed—’

‘We all do, brother,’ Stracker interrupted. ‘But even Aludane will forgive us this. You are no longer a leader we respect. As I say, you are more Set than you are Steppes. You bear no proud tatua. You never wanted to be a true tribal leader. You used us to take the
Denovian Set because ruling here, in the western sovereign’s way, was always your desire.’ He nodded. ‘Look at him,’ he ordered his men. ‘Our tribal leader looks more Valisar than Brennus ever did!’ He laughed maliciously. ‘Although, brother, I was impressed with your early ruthlessness. And while you have become complacent over the last ten anni, I am also impressed with your ridding yourself of your ghastly encumbrance of a wife. I will enjoy killing her on behalf of Dara Negev.’

‘You can’t see beyond the immediate, can you?’ Loethar replied calmly. ‘Did you honestly believe my intention was to slaughter everyone and simply take over the land?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then you are even more stupid than you look.’

Stracker’s eyes turned to slits as his mouth thinned with fury. ‘We have achieved nothing!’

‘That’s because you will always see yourself as a tribal yob, Stracker. You haven’t evolved. Many of our people have matured and grown, they’ve become educated and eloquent. They speak two languages, sometimes three. It’s not about us; it never was. It was always about generations to come. We have taken this land and infiltrated its people so that all people will benefit. Many of our children are half Set, half Steppes. A whole new generation is growing up, Stracker, and they are going to be stronger, cleverer, better than any of us could dream. They will do us proud. They will sail to new continents and discover amazing new cultures and practices that they will bring back here. That’s how an empire and its people evolve and grow. But your idea of rule is to stay the same, to kill anyone who steps out of our primitive ways. Unhand me, you fools. This man will lead you and your families down the path to destruction. He has no plan. He is only happy with the smell of blood in his nostrils.’

Stracker punched his half-brother. His expression showed how much he enjoyed the sensation. Loethar slipped to his knees, breathing hard.

‘You were once happy with the smell of blood. I can remember when you ate kings,’ Stracker accused.

Loethar struggled to talk. He’d misread the fire in Stracker’s belly to be rid of him; had thought that Stracker wouldn’t even think of overthrow until Dara Negev no longer stood between them. But his half-brother had obviously been plotting for a long time. ‘I was happy for blood when the spilling of blood was necessary. We are in more sophisticated times, Stracker, that require diplomacy and tact and intelligence, all of which you sadly lack.’ He felt Stracker’s fist connect with his jaw, a well-judged blow to make him black out only momentarily. When he regained his wits he could hear Stracker’s jeers.

‘You have turned us into soft-bellied, soft-witted Denovians. I think you want to be a Valisar, Loethar—is that why you ate Brennus?’

‘No, you sad fool. I ate him for his magic, but I realise now that the Valisar magic doesn’t work that way. You see, Stracker, I am capable of learning. You are not. Why don’t you fight fairly? Let me draw my sword and we’ll sort this out in the tribal way.’

‘No, I already accept your supremacy as a swordsman. We fought for kingship once before the tribal way and you won. Now I’m fighting for leadership the cowardly Valisar way…I’m using cunning. And it seems I’ve won.’

‘Do you truly believe people will follow you?’

‘If they don’t—’

‘They’ll die?’ Loethar finished for him.

And Stracker laughed. ‘The Denovians will become our slaves, our workers.’

‘And what of the people who are tribal but have intermarried, have children who are half and half?’

‘They can choose to die or become slaves too. There will be no mixed blood. The tribes must remain pure.’

‘You are mad.’

‘This was always my creed. I haven’t changed.’

‘What would our father think?’

‘My father hated that you pitied me.’

Loethar knew this to be true. ‘And what would our mother think of your ambushing me as I bring you her ashes?’

‘She always knew I would kill you. Surely she tried to warn you?’

Loethar spat blood out. ‘In her way, yes. But I never thought you would try anything with our mother still present,’ he said, glancing at the chest containing her ashes.

Stracker shrugged. ‘I’m not as sentimental as you are.’

‘I can tell.’

The general grinned. ‘It’s good to see you humbled like this, on your knees before me.’

‘Stracker, I’m not humbled. My mortal body crumples as anyone’s would, but in my mind I laugh in your face at your pathetic intentions. The army follows you because it follows orders. But when misery takes a hold and you begin to lose control, that same army, these very men who do your bidding now, will rise up against you. You don’t understand leadership; you only understand the blind obedience of a dumb dog. Oh yes, you feel you’re taking initiative now but it is purely the snapping of that dumb dog railing against its master. A dumb animal doesn’t survive very long without someone to control it, feed it, water it, train it. You—’

Loether never got any further; Stracker hit him so hard he bit off a piece of his own tongue, his mouth filling with blood as he hit the ground, unconscious. He never felt the beating he took.

‘String him up,’ Stracker commanded finally. ‘He can die in the forest, hanging by his neck. No honourable tribal sword will tarnish its blade with his blood.’

Watching, hidden, Gavriel swung around, looking stunned. Elka turned to him, equally shocked.

‘The emperor?’ she mouthed.

Gavriel nodded. ‘I can’t believe it.’

‘Should we stop them?’ she whispered.

‘No. Let them kill each other. I’ll enjoy watching him die; he might already be dead. He looks it.’

Elka looked back as the men picked up the slumped, unconscious captive; she’d only recently heard her friend’s chilling description of all, that this very man had inflicted upon his family, his friends and, more widely, his countrymen. The Davarigons, after all, had been spared the effects of the push for empire. And though she understood that Gavriel had suffered much at this man’s hands, all she could see now was a helpless man who had been beaten senseless by thugs and was now about to lose his life.

‘Gavriel,’ she began, as the warriors dragged Loethar towards a nearby tree. ‘This is what it looked like when the imperial guards were beating you. I sat in the shadows just like this and I made a decision to help you.’

‘We’re going to watch him swing.’

‘No.’

He glared at her. ‘Did you not hear anything I told you on our journey here?’

She laid a hand on his arm, feeling the tension beneath her palm. ‘Listen to me a moment,’ she urged. ‘Everything we’ve heard back from the Set in the last five or six years has been positive, has it not?’

He looked away, scowling, but she knew he was listening.

‘If not for your memory returning, you would be none the wiser about this man. You would feel as outraged as I do that he is about to go to his death with no fair trial, no way to defend himself—’

‘He has no defence!’ Gavriel hissed beneath his breath. ‘He doesn’t deserve a def—’

‘He deserves to die, I agree, but perhaps he should be given the opportunity for a formal execution. He is an emperor.’

‘He is a usurper.’

‘He is a king in his own right. And his former cruelties aside,
we’ve had many a conversation back home about how the Set has begun to flourish under his rule. You know the trade routes have opened up for us directly as a result of Loethar’s new policies.’

‘Elka—’

‘No. Ask yourself, now that you’re a Set man again, whether you want to be ruled by that evil-looking thug of a brother,’ she said, stabbing a finger in Stracker’s direction.

Gavriel turned sourly to regard Stracker. ‘Half-brother,’ he corrected, shaking his head.

‘Right,’ Elka said. ‘So we are not going to permit Loethar’s death today, even if we have to take him as our own prisoner.’

‘Are you going soft in the head?’

‘I would have thought bringing Loethar as your captive to present to your king would be a fine homecoming,’ she baited.

Gavriel clearly couldn’t dismiss her logic. She watched him consider, and hoped the Valisar king was still alive, and still in these parts. He finally nodded. ‘What do you suggest?’

Relief coursing through her, Elka reached behind her. ‘We’ll stun them,’ she replied, pulling her catapult from her belt with glee.

‘Don’t look at me like that, Bleuth,’ Stracker growled in Steppes language.

‘General,’ the Green began reluctantly, ‘I would advise you against this action.’ Loethar hung limp between the two men. A third Green was throwing a rope over the chosen branch.

‘Haven’t got the stomach for it?’ Stracker taunted.

‘I think it is a rash move that you may regret. I am your friend; I hope I can say this to you without recrimination.’

‘We are friends but you are also my subordinate. And you will follow orders.’

Bleuth nodded. ‘I will indeed. But I am first trying to prevent you…’

‘What?’ Stracker demanded as the Green trailed off.

‘This is murder, Stracker.’

The general laughed, pasting a feigned look of confusion on his face. ‘That is no stranger to me.’

‘Murder of tribe. Murder of family. Murder of a brother. Murder of a king. Murder of the emperor. Most of all, the murder of a man who spared your life once.’

‘And has treated me like his servant ever since!’ Stracker raged. ‘I was prepared to walk in his shadow if he’d become an emperor I could be proud of. Instead, he has turned us into Denovians. Our blood is being diluted, our culture is being lost, our very memories of who we are and what we stand for are being diminished. He has let us down.’

‘What will you tell people?’

Stracker shrugged, uncaring. ‘Anything I like. My brother left the palace, grief-stricken at the loss of his child, rode into the north and was never seen again. He says he told no one where he was headed and I believe him; my brother is secretive. His disappearance can become one of the empire’s mysteries.’

‘I have to say this: I don’t want to be a part of murdering our emperor.’

‘I am not giving you a choice.’ Stracker looked over at the man with the rope and added, ‘Put it round his neck and hoist him. He’s near enough dead now. He’ll be none the wiser.’

Stracker saw the three guards share a glance. ‘Are my orders to be disobeyed?’ The two other men shook their heads, clearly more scared of their general than their broken emperor. ‘Bleuth?’

Bleuth gave a wry half grin. ‘I know you’ll kill me if I don’t.’

‘You can choose to stick by your principles if that’s more important to you than loyalty to your general, to your people, to your culture.’

‘It’s wrong.’

‘Not in my eyes. We fight for leadership on the Steppes.’

‘Only when our tribal ruler dies.’

‘He’s going to die very shortly.’

‘By murder.’

‘Choose your side, Bleuth!’ the general ordered, tiring of the debate.

The man hung his head. ‘I won’t defy you, Stracker.’

‘Coward!’ Stracker said, laughing. ‘Hang our prisoner!’

Slowly, the two Greens hoisted Loethar into the tree.

‘That’s it, boys,’ Stracker urged, ‘get his feet right off the ground. Good.’ He clapped. ‘Now tie him off. Farewell, brother.’

Elka took the leader out first, her pebble hitting him in the temple expertly. He dropped like the stone that struck him, his body crunching heavily to the forest floor. The three guards looked surprised and the pair holding Loethar above the ground had their mouths open comically when the other took the next stone, collapsing like his general with a shout of pain.