The King's Sons (The Herezoth Trilogy)

by Grefer, Victoria

  “And mine,” came Kora’s soft voice. Both men glanced at her.

  “Impossible,” they said together. She threw her bandana to the floor, exposing the ruby on her forehead.

  “I’m the Marked One,” she protested. “The bloody Marked One, as this gem proclaims. That chain of red gold I used against Zalski, the chain enchanted solely for my use…. Rexson has it in the Palace. I’m sure he does.”

  Vane knew that story. Rexson had explained it once, years ago: how he and Kora had tramped across the kingdom to fight Petroc, Linstrom’s father, in the Hall of Sorcery for a chain of red gold destined to aid the Marked One of legend in her quest to save Herezoth. They had left victorious, and Kora had used the necklace as a spying tool. Its ancient magic allowed her, and her alone, to hear the thoughts and attend to the whereabouts of any one person.

  Zacry said, “You don’t know Rexson has your chain.”

  “I knew Zalski. That chain fell in his possession, and he’d never have destroyed it. He’d have kept it for study, and Rexson, well….” Kora blushed. “He’s sentimental in some ways. He’d have kept it too, when he found it among Zalski’s things. That horrid necklace is at the Palace.”

  Vane said, “What if it is? You’re exiled. Under penalty of death. That’s not news to you. There’s a reason the king didn’t send me for you at the start of this.”

  “Listen, both of you: I’m the Marked One. Destined to lead Herezoth to recover from its darkest hour. We’ve always assumed I accomplished that with Zalski’s death. What if Zalski’s not what the legend refers to? What if this is the moment, this Linstrom? Vane, if he launches even a failed assault, people will panic. The hatred, the violence, it’ll all flare again, perhaps to levels never seen. I can’t sit by while Herezoth destroys itself. While Rexson’s reign collapses. That place is my home, will always be. I don’t care the circumstances I left in.”

  Kora’s brother said, “Your husband….”

  “Parker knows what I am. He’ll understand I have to aid the king, just as your wife will support you doing that. I’m not proposing to announce myself with a trumpet blast. I can hole up with the necklace in Oakdowns.”

  Vane said, “I have servants.”

  “And they’ll give my daughter’s chamber its privacy if August tells them to. I’ll put up a sound barrier. I survived over a year with an army on my tail, Vane. Your mother lasted four times that, and she taught me well. I won’t reveal my presence.”

  Close to Kora, a disembodied voice, male and unsure of itself, said, “We’re going too, Mom,” and Walten Cason appeared as he cancelled an invisibility spell, his face pale above his beginnings of a beard.

  “Blast it, Walt!” Walten’s younger brother, beside him, appeared as well. Wilhem’s thin nose sliced the air as he turned to slap Walt on the back of the head; Walt lacked his brother’s thick curls to cushion the blow.

  The older occupants of the room clutched their chests, and Kora swore at her brother. “You taught them to turn invisible? I asked you to wait!”

  Walten said, “We learned last week. Mom, we saw Vane’s face when he showed up at home this morning. He looked like someone died. When he took you here, we transported too. We’ve heard everything, and we’re going to Herezoth.”

  Kora told her sons, “You’ll do no such thing.”

  Wilhem said, “We’re both of age. I know I’m barely, but I am. Listen, the king needs us. I can’t say I know much about Herezoth, but Vane and Uncle Zac do. They’re going to fight, and they’ll need more people with strong magic. That Linstrom man has twenty sorcerers. Vane said that. Twenty.”

  Kora protested, “You don’t have enough training. You have no idea….”

  Walten said, “We know more than you think. We’re going, Mom. Uncle Zac and Vane, they’re not trying to stop this madman by themselves. They’ll be killed.”

  Kora ran a hand down her face. “You’ll all be killed. Every one of you. Good Giver, I….”

  Zacry rose to put an arm around his sister’s back. “We’ll be fine. And Kora, I won’t pretend I’m not relieved as hell that Foden’s only ten.” Foden. Zacry’s son. “I understand these are your boys. They’re my nephews, and the thought of them…. I’ve taught them, myself, and they’ve paid attention. They’re capable casters.”

  Kora stared at her brother. “Are you saying they should come with us?”

  Zacry told her, “They’re of age. You know they are.”

  Throwing off her brother’s touch, Kora blustered, “There’s next to nothing I wouldn’t give for that kingdom. I risked my own life for Herezoth, and I’d do so again. I sacrificed my home there. I spat Zalski’s offer of security, of a post in his government, back in his face. I even killed, Zacry. I killed men in the Crimson League.” That was the name of Rexson Phinnean’s resistance group, when Vane’s uncle had dispossessed him. “I gave Herezoth my innocence. It will not take my sons.”

  Walten crossed his arms. “So I guess the fact that I’m eighteen means nothing?”

  “You’re my child, Walt. I’ve had every person dear to me in my life torn away but a child. I will not lose you.”

  “I’m your son,” he consented. “And I’ve always been proud to say that when occasion arose. Mother, I’m not a child now. This is my decision. Uncle Zac needs my help. Vane needs me, and he’ll have me at his back.”

  Wilhem said, “And me. If I can be useful, I’m going to Herezoth.”

  Kora grabbed her sons, one in each arm. She held them tight. “You’re going nowhere, either one of you.”

  Zacry asked his sister, “How old were you when you took up with the Crimson League?”

  Anger twisted Kora’s face, but rapidly turned to an intense sorrow. “Seventeen.”

  “And Mother wanted you to do that? I was with Mother, Kora. You broke her heart. Shattered it. You had no choice in the matter.”

  “I didn’t,” Kora agreed. She pulled Walten and Wilhem closer. “They do.”

  “I know their magic,” said Zacry. “They’re prepared for this, and they wouldn’t be your sons if they chose not to join Vane and me.”

  Silence for thirty seconds, a silence that pounded in Vane’s brain. He would never have considered risking Kora’s children, but this was a family matter. Vane had no place to comment. If the boys’ parents let them join the king’s forces, the duke wouldn’t stop them. He would see they survived any battles, though.

  Finally, Kora whispered in her brother’s direction, “You’re right. You’re right for once, damn you. They wouldn’t be sons of mine if they….” She kissed Walten and Wilhem on the cheek. “I love you,” she said. “And I wish you’d stay in Traigland, but I’m proud of you, as your father will be. You’ll obey any order from your uncle, the king, or Vane, you understand me? They’ve handled crisis before. You will not know better than they do where you’re needed.”

  Wilhem swore, “Their words are orders,” and Vane pressed a hand to the boy’s shoulder in approbation.

  “I’ve got to return to Herezoth,” said the duke. “You four can’t leave just yet.” They had spouses and parents to inform of their plans. “Zacry can transport you to Oakdowns, when you’re ready. Zac, can you get Kora’s necklace from the Palace?”

  Zacry nodded, and Vane said, “Good. Things are coming together. I’ve already spoken to Jane, at the school.”

  Zacry would approve of that. He had supported Jane Trand’s hire as sorcery instructor at the Carphead Academy, and at her mention he relaxed his posture, noting, “I wouldn’t want that woman with a grudge against me. We’re lucky to have her. What’s she doing?”

  “She’s gone for some of her students,” said Vane. “The older ones. Graduated ones. I need to get back to Francie now, I….”

  Vane stumbled to Zacry’s unoccupied chair before he could collapse on the ground. All the stress, and the transporting, the lack of sleep: he was feeling their effects. He hadn’t eaten since…. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate.
<
br />   “You need to rest,” said Kora. “Francie’s been tended to, by doctors. She has your fellow spy to look after her, you said.”

  “Kora, all I need’s a simple energy spell. I don’t think I could make it to Herezoth without one. Then I’ll rest.”

  Kora insisted, “You’re not leaving here until you sleep. You cast an energy spell, you return to Partsvale, and you’ll be at it again. Have you eaten today?” Vane shook his head. “Get him something from the kitchen, Zac.”

  Zacry left, and Vane’s eyes swept his mentor’s study. The shelves of familiar books, the desk with that gouge in its side, the thin curtains Vane had helped Zacry hang: hardly anything had changed since Vane had lived in this house. Those days before a duchy and the council, they were some of the happiest of Vane’s life. He had spared no thought for the future, had simply studied. Learned magic. Eventually, when he had mastered enough spells, he’d grown anxious to return to Herezoth. He wished he could counsel his sixteen-year-old self not to mistake peace for dullness. He wished he had been more cautious about setting foot once again in Podrar.

  Then he thought, perhaps ignorance had been best. He doubted he’d have found the gumption to claim his father’s title, had he known what the act would entail. Had he the slightest suspicion that path would lead to a place where he stood by while he watched a man slice his oldest friend’s neck open.

  Sure, Vane had saved Francie’s life in the end. Every time he thought of her, though, he saw her tied to that post. He felt like a heartless, gutless….

  I went to the Hall on the crown’s behalf. For the king. I had a responsibility to him and the people of Partsvale, one just as strong as to Francie. I did what I must to balance the two, that’s all. To keep both her and Howar breathing.

  So why did Vane feel as though he had murdered the woman?

  “I’m sorry,” he apologized to Kora. “I have to get back. I’ll eat there and I’ll rest, I will. Energa Crez.” A sudden, magical energy pulsed through Vane, bringing him to his feet. “Despareska,” he said, and turned invisible. Then he transported to Herezoth’s coast. A minute after that, he stood in Howar’s rooms in Partsvale.

  The transports depleted Vane’s artificial energy, leaving him more famished and exhausted than before. Since he had promised Kora to eat, he found a loaf of bread in the kitchen and ripped off a small portion. He ate it in three bites, though it was stale, and it calmed the ache in his stomach. Then he went to speak with Francie, after pouring them each a cup of water and making himself visible to the world.

  He found her as he’d left her, in Howar’s bed, attempting to sleep and unable. She opened her eyes when he approached. The slight smile on her face wasn’t natural, and Vane suspected more than her bruises were responsible for that.

  “Have you eaten since you left home?” Vane asked. His euphemism couldn’t prevent her wincing, and her voice sounded scratchy, duller than normal.

  “I ate something this morning. A slice of toast. Boiled egg.”

  “Are you hungry at all?”

  Francie shook her head. Vane’s next question was stark, and made the woman’s face fall.

  “How can you not loathe the sight of me?”

  “Vane, what are you talking about?”

  “I told you yesterday, I was at the Hall. The entire time. That’s how I sent the Lifestone to you. I was there, in disguise, and I didn’t try to stop….”

  “You couldn’t have helped me beyond what you did. As it is, they put me in that enchanted sleep. I didn’t feel anything when they opened my neck like you described.”

  “If Rexson hadn’t commanded I take the Lifestone?” Vane insisted. “If they’d kept you conscious? If they’d decided to have some fun with you? I wouldn’t have stopped them.”

  “You couldn’t have,” Francie corrected. “That’s different than saying you wouldn’t have helped me. You did have the Lifestone, and I wasn’t tortured, not at the Hall. Don’t torture yourself over this.”

  “I’m trying.”

  Francie grimaced as she raised a shaking hand to her head. “Howar told me what they’re planning. Why that man did this to me. Those people would have leveled Partsvale if they’d known who you were. You couldn’t save me openly. It wasn’t just my life at stake, Vane. You did what you were able. Loathe you? I owe my life to you.”

  “I’m so sorry, Francie. So horrified this happened. I shouldn’t have brought it up. You’re in pain.”

  “And you?” she said. “You look ready to collapse. Go eat,” she demanded. “Eat and sleep. I know you’ve a mission from the king. You can put it on hold for a few hours. You look as bad as I feel.”

  “I’ll eat something more before sleeping if you do.”

  Francie’s face twisted in disgust at the mention of food. “It’s a deal,” she said. “If it’ll get you eating, it’s a deal.” With that, Vane headed back to the kitchen for something light to fill their stomachs.

  * * *

  When Zacry Porteg asked his wife outside for a private word, away from the children, he knew by the straightness of her back she was bracing herself for something unpleasant. Joslyn was as smart as she was beautiful, and she had seen Vane’s haggard figure when he first came to the house.

  Joslyn was a Traiglander, with the rich, dark skin native to her kingdom, enchanting black eyes, and long, ebony hair that always swung loose to as much of a magic effect as her husband’s incantations. She grew more beautiful with age, Zacry thought; the difference was one of character, of a strengthened confidence. Before he could explain, she asked him, “What’s happened, Love? What’s wrong in Herezoth this time?”

  He told her about Evant Linstrom.

  “And you’re going to help Vane?”

  “I can’t very well leave him on his own to face this.”

  “No,” Joslyn agreed with a squeeze of his hand. He couldn’t say which of them she meant to bolster by the act. “You can’t abandon him.”

  Joslyn, like Vane, had been raised an orphan. The two had grown close in the years Vane had lived and trained with Zacry, and Zacry had to imagine she feared as much for the Duke of Ingleton as for her husband.

  “Are you all right, Joss?”

  She smiled, but the expression wasn’t genuine. “Of course I am. I’m not the one going to Herezoth to…. At least you have a timeframe. You know who you’re up against, and how many. The king can call his army to his aid. That’s all better than when you left to rescue the kidnapped princes.”

  “I suppose it is. I’m glad it comforts you, at any rate, to have specifics. Joss, I….”

  She hushed him with a kiss, stroked his bristly face. “I don’t need an explanation. This is simply who you are. I’ve always known that, Love. If sorcerers are causing the king trouble again, then he needs magical assistance for sure. That means you.” She sighed. “It always means you. I suppose I must be grateful for the ten years of peace we’ve had since the last crisis. We made it through that one, all of us, and we’ll do the same now.”

  “Joss, you realize how much better you’re taking this than the kidnapping?” He pulled her close, met her eyes. “I tell you, I was a fool not to expect that. You surprise me so much, and after fifteen years you wouldn’t think….”

  He kissed her this time, and she threw her arms around his neck. When their lips separated, she maintained her hold, and all Zacry could do was smile. He said, “If I remember correctly, this is the time when you make me promise you something.”

  To Zacry’s relief, Joslyn smiled too. “It is, isn’t it? I was so… terrified, the last time you trekked off to aid the royals this way. Love, I’m sorry if that burdened you.”

  “Don’t be.” Zacry ran a finger down her nose. “Just tell me what you need me to promise this go-around.”

  Joslyn sighed again. She might have been trying not to cry, but if so, she succeeded with such grace Zacry couldn’t be sure. She loosened her hold on his neck to grab his shoulders and said, “One thing. Promise y
ou won’t frighten the children telling them where you’re going, and what for.”

  “I’d prefer to be honest with them. They’re ten and eleven. That’s old enough to understand, and….”

  “They’d worry you won’t make it back. Love, I’m sure you will. I know your talents, your intelligence. I know how you’ve mastered your magic, and how you came back to me before. They’re too young to understand that. They’d only comprehend the danger that threatens you. I don’t know what I’d do with them upset. Zacry, if somehow you don’t come back, I’ll explain everything. I will. I owe that to them as much as to you. I don’t want to pain them ahead of time if….”

  Zacry kissed the tip of her nose rather than stroke it again. “If you’d rather I leave them their peace, I will. I promise, Joss.”

  “What shall I promise you, then?”

  “That you’ll let the king provide for you, if something does happen to me. You can’t eke out a living on your sewing to support three people. Kora and Parker would do all they can to help you, but they’ve eight mouths to feed, counting my mother.”

  Joslyn took a deep breath. “What makes you think I’d refuse…?”

  “I know your pride, Joss. You don’t like accepting help from people if you can’t pay them back. That’s why you give what your needlework brings in to your old orphanage.”

  “That orphanage raised me. They didn’t just feed and clothe me there, they saw me taught. I learned to read, to add….”

  “I’ve never had a problem with you giving that orphanage any coin you can. My point is, you don’t like accepting charity. That’s why I’m telling you, you need to take whatever pension the king provides you for my service on the Magic Council. If I don’t make it through….”

  Zacry’s wife bit her lip. He insisted, “If I don’t make it, my years on that council entitle you to a pension, and you’ll accept it. I know Rexson Phinnean, and I’m sure he’d cut into his personal wealth to increase the amount legitimately taken from taxes. You’ll accept his gift and you’ll use it to educate the kids.”

  “Zacry, I….”