Tyrant's Blood (40 page)

The two other guards let go of the rope but it had already been tied off and Loethar swung, his toes just missing the ground. Elka shot another stone, felling one of the remaining guards. His companion shouted in fear, drawing his sword. Elka, aware of her distinctiveness, remained hidden. ‘Cut him down!’ she called to Gavriel from behind the trees.

The guard thought she was speaking to him and backed away from Loethar, shaking his head. ‘I have orders,’ he stammered in Set. Gavriel emerged from the trees as Elka took aim with her fourth stone. The man began to babble at Gavriel, wondering where his slingshot was, but without pausing, Elka hit him in the thigh and he screamed and fell over. ‘I didn’t want him to have a slash at you,’ she said to Gavriel. ‘Quick, get him down.’

‘I can’t believe I’m doing this,’ he growled over his shoulder.

Elka ignored Gavriel, and reloaded her catapult.

‘Please,’ the guard urged, still at Gavriel. ‘You don’t need to—’

‘Oh, but
I
do,’ Elka murmured to herself. She squinted, took very careful aim and let the sling hurl the stone straight at the man’s temple. He made no sound but keeled over sideways.

‘Is he alive?’ she asked, finally emerging to help.

‘I hope not.’ Gavriel had cut the rope and Loethar’s body had slumped once again to the ground. ‘Another high body count, I see,’ he said conversationally as he undid the rope from Loethar’s neck.

She looked around. ‘Last time I left men dead. I didn’t want to this time. But they’ll have horrible headaches, possibly split skulls.’

‘How can you be sure they won’t die?’

‘Lots of practice,’ she said, looking at her catapult before she put it away. ‘Now, let me look.’ She pushed Gavriel aside and placed her head close to Loethar’s chest. Finally she looked at him. ‘Bad news for you. He’s alive.’

‘Lo’s wrath!’ Gavriel replied. ‘A half-dead emperor and my sworn enemy and now I’m stuck nursing him back to health. Is that your plan?’

‘I nursed you.’

‘I wasn’t a war-mongering murderer.’

‘Yes, but I didn’t know that. You could have been.’

‘This is typical of you, Elka. You think your calm reasoning will always win.’

‘It usually does.’

‘I wish you’d lived through what I had to. You wouldn’t feel this way about this animal.’

‘With him alive and captive, perhaps you give your king some bargaining power.’ She shrugged. ‘This way Stracker will know that someone witnessed his treachery, that he didn’t clean up his tracks well enough. Even in their language I could see that this older soldier was not thrilled about killing the emperor.’

Gavriel nodded. ‘So, before the thugs wake up, what do you suggest?’

‘He’s badly injured. But we have to get away from here. He’s not even conscious to chew some seeds so he’ll have to put up with whatever pain we cause.’ She hoisted Loethar onto her shoulders. ‘Ah, this feels familiar.’

Gavriel scowled. ‘Let’s go, wherever we’re going.’

‘…and that’s all I know,’ Sergius concluded. ‘I have no idea where she is.’

Night had closed in around them. Sergius was shivering from its cool embrace.

You see, Ravan—may I call you that?—how devious your friend is? My father was no better. He planned my sister’s death and yet it was all a ruse. He allowed my mother to hold a dead baby and think it was her own daughter. I was there when my father discussed it with the de Vis family.

Who was the little girl who died?

Who knows? Whoever she was, she was killed expressly to trick everyone—but especially the queen and so ultimately Loethar—that the princess had died moments after birth. But my father did not do this terrible deed with his own hand. Oh no, like all cunning men, he had another carry out his dirty deed. He chose Corbel de Vis; asking him, when he was not that much older than I am now, to kill a child that would be passed off as my newly-born/newly-dead sister, while my real sister was secreted away to your friend, Sergius. You know the rest. My father carried out this secret, murderous work, convinced he was doing it in the family’s best interests and for the Crown. But he never considered the human cost—someone’s child killed, Corbel having to carry a child’s murder in his heart, Regor de Vis losing a son, my mother being tricked into losing her baby. She lost so many children in her
journey to have Leo and myself and still my father forced her to declare me an unwanted orphan, convinced himself that risking my mother’s sanity was worth the good for the Crown. She held on long enough just to defy Loethar but I can recall now how she whispered to me that it wasn’t worth living any longer—not without her husband or her son. She loved me but I wasn’t enough, not trapped in my madness. Death was a welcome visitor to Queen Iselda and she went to it believing all her three children were lost to her
…
when in fact we all survived.

Sergius had been permitted to hear this exchange over the seam.
Ravan, my role is for the Valisars. I am loyal to them.

The bird hopped over to his friend.
You told me it was in an observer’s role.

Ah, well, he lied to you again there
, Piven announced.
I suspect Sergius plays a far more subtle game. I think his role has little to do with the Valisars themselves but everything to do with their magic. That’s what he observes—the use of the magic: who has it, who is wielding it, and how.

Is this true?
Ravan asked his old friend.

Sergius nodded.
Piven is young but he is either well informed or incredibly sharp. The magic must not be wielded in a situation that is out of control
.

Piven began to laugh.
But it is! It is under no one’s control but mine and no one controls me! The poor befuddled orphan invalid was blessed with all the power.

Sergius said nothing.

‘Is there anything else you wish to tell us, Sergius?’ Piven said, switching to real speech. ‘Perhaps how you plan to bring my sister back.’

‘I cannot.’

‘I’m sure that’s a lie.’

‘I told you, I have no clue to her whereabouts. The destination was chosen by de Vis. Even if he did so unwittingly, it was his mind that guided them.’

‘Is Corbel empowered?’

Sergius shook his head. ‘Not a skerrick. But the magic still permitted his navigation.’

‘Your magic.’

‘I suppose,’ Sergius replied grudgingly.

‘Then your magic brings her back!’

‘Only if she wants to return. I cannot contact them.’

‘So we have to make them want to come back. Perhaps I’m better off leaving them where they are. It’s been ten anni after all.’

‘And she is none the wiser; your sister likely has no knowledge of her power.’

Piven considered this, a soft smile playing around his lips as he looked directly at Sergius. ‘I sense that you are lying to me again.’

Sergius shrugged. ‘Believe what you want. You’re the one with the power here.’

‘Why don’t you hurl some of your magic at me, Sergius?’

‘Apart from the fact that my magic doesn’t work that way, what would be the point? You have an aegis. You are protected from magic that can harm you.’

‘But not other forms of magic?’

Sergius shook his head. ‘If it doesn’t want to harm you, you have nothing to fear from any other form of magic.’

‘I don’t fear anything, old man. Now, what else have you to share with us? Ravan still needs to be fully enlightened.’

‘Only that there’s an aegis for each of you.’

‘Ah, I’m supposed to feel threatened by that. Except I don’t because I doubt very much whether my brother or sister will look for theirs; they probably don’t know much about it.’

‘How is it that you know so much?’

Piven shrugged. ‘The curse of my affliction. I was able to move amongst many without their caring about my presence. People spoke freely in front of me and I absorbed a lot of information that was useless at the time but is now highly valuable to me. I know about the power of an aegis. I doubt my brother does.’

‘You should never be so sure.’

‘I agree. Others could inform him. And perhaps you would make a special trip from this Loforsaken spot of yours to enlighten him, bad eyesight or not.’

Sergius’s lips thinned. ‘Perhaps I might,’ he shot back.

Piven stretched and stood. ‘Which is why we can’t let you live.’

Greven looked up, alarmed, but Sergius didn’t flinch.

‘I see you were expecting that,’ Piven continued.

Sergius shrugged. ‘You will do what you will do. I am helpless.’ He pointed to his bird. ‘Ravan, be warned. Piven is no friend to you. The only friend you have here is about to be murdered. Flee, my long-time companion. Find a way to tell allies what this boy—nay, he is no boy; he thinks and talks like a man—has in store for them. Go, Ravan!’

The black bird swooped angrily overhead.
What are you doing?

Piven sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Ravan. Greven, throw Sergius off the cliff, would you?’

Sergius closed his eyes. ‘Farewell, Ravan.’

No!
the bird yelled into their minds.
No, Piven!

Greven moved reluctantly towards Sergius.

I have made my decision. Sergius must die
.

Ravan hopped towards him.
Sergius has walked this land for centuries. He has known all the Valisar kings. He travelled with the—

Neverthless, he must die now.

Why did I ever trust you?
Ravan hurled with fury at Piven, watching helplessly as Greven grabbed Sergius.
Fight back, Sergius!
he begged.

No point, old friend
. Sergius gave a soft sigh as Greven picked him up easily with a strength infused by magic.

‘Forgive me, Sergius,’ Greven mumbled.

‘You are a slave. I understand.’

‘Oh, get on with it. Throw him to his well-deserved death!’ Piven said, bored. ‘You see, Ravan, I’ve given up fighting my dark inclinations. I’m giving in to them fully instead, now. Let’s see where this new attitude leads.’

Let him live!
Ravan screeched.

He is my enemy
.

Then you are now my enemy
.

So be it
. Piven looked over at Greven, who stood at the cliff edge. Sergius balanced in front of him, looking not down over the perilous drop but out to sea, to the far horizon, his eyes closed, lips moving in what appeared to be silent prayer.
Scream to your god if you want, Sergius, it may help
, Piven offered mockingly and then nodded at Greven.

With a sigh of deep regret, Greven pushed the old man, who disappeared quickly over the lip of the cliff to the sounds of screams—not his own, but the cries of despair from a bird.

Piven moved to the edge to join Greven and, illuminated by thin moonlight, they watched Sergius’s body bounce down the cliff face, coming to rest broken and bloodied on the rocky foreshore of the beach.

‘Good,’ Piven said. ‘Let’s go.
Coming, Ravan
?’

The bird swooped past him, violently raking his clawed feet through the boy’s hair.
I will see you dead for this!

Piven touched the injury on his head, pulled his hand away to stare at blood that appeared black in the moon’s silvery light and smiled. ‘Looks like it’s just us then, Greven.’

The former leper finally tore his eyes from the sorrowful scene on the beach and glared at his charge.

Piven looked bemused. ‘Stop scowling. He threatened me. Your job is to keep me safe.’

‘He was an old man.’

‘He was a god’s tool and a king’s pawn, and far too dangerous to let live now that he has marked me and knows me for what I am. And you know it. Come, I think it’s time we returned to Brighthelm and let everyone understand that a new ruler is about to take his crown.’

As if the land sensed the loss of one of its longest travellers, the clouds thickened overhead to block what little moon’s light had filtered through earlier. A gust of wind off the ocean challenged the two torches lighting the steps and won the battle, their flames dying soon after Sergius’s body crumpled on the beach. The foreshore was thrown into darkness but despite the limited visibility, Ravan’s eyes were still sharp enough to pick out his friend. He swooped down to land next to the old man’s head, and could see that it was leaking blood in several places from wounds inflicted by the cliff’s unyielding surface.

Ravan concentrated and then a few moments later flapped excitedly. He threw up shields around his thoughts.
I hear your heartbeat, faint but there nonetheless. Can you talk to me?

I can talk over the seam only
, the voice he loved answered.

Sergius’s link felt weak. Ravan intensified his own.
I have shielded us. Sergius, I—

Listen, Ravan. Nothing can be done for me. Perhaps this is what Cyrena wanted for me
.

Don’t say that!

It doesn’t matter. My life is over—but yours still matters. You must follow your instincts now. You know Piven’s intentions and his powers. You have to let people know
.

How?

That is your journey, my friend.

Why didn’t you tell me about the princess?

I would have
.

Sergius, that is not good enough
.

It is all I can say. I have but moments now, and I must use them not on recrimination but on concentrating on my own death
.
They will feel it
.

Who?

Corbel de Vis and the Valisar princess—if they have survived—will feel my passing. They are connected to this land through my magic
.

And as a result of your death they’ll know what?

That it’s time to return
.

How?

The same way they left us. Cyrena’s powers will help them re-enter from whichever plane they come from
.

How will Cyrena know?

She already does. Now leave me to my death, Ravan. I love you and I’m sad we must part but you have grave responsibilities now. We are counting on you
.

Me! What for?

To stop the evil that Piven possesses. No one has ever fully understood the Valisar magic. Piven admits the more good he tried to give, the more his soul was filled with darkness. We don’t know his power yet. If his sister has lived, she will surely possess the Valisar Enchantment—she will have the ability to compel others. She is the only hope against Piven and his aegis. Now go. I have nothing more to give the Valisars but my death. I hope it’s enough.

Sergius!

Ravan
…
go, little friend. And remember, Loethar was never your enemy.
He sighed.
I am spent. I must let go now. Let me hear your wings once again; their sound will bear me away with them to a happier place.

Ravan lifted sorrowfully, swooping near his old friend several times before lifting himself up into the night in spite of his desperately heavy heart.

Sergius died a moment later.

Far away a man sat bolt upright. He had been sleeping under the stars on a rare break from his usual labours and routine. He couldn’t place or didn’t recall what had disturbed him but it had been powerful enough to wake him fully and as he lay now on his back, staring up at the night sky, he noticed a shooting star. He frowned at its unusual brightness; the pattern it traced across its inky backdrop seemed to imprint itself on his thoughts. It was as though he could concentrate on nothing else but that blazing
path—all other concerns, even his pressing need to empty his bladder, suddenly faded. All that mattered, all that resonated, all that counted in his life at this precise second was the burning passage of that star as it spent its energy travelling to death.

Corbel finally blinked, his frown deepening. He had an inescapable sense of certainty that the moment was upon him.

It was time to return the Valisar princess to her people.