The King's Sons (The Herezoth Trilogy)

by Grefer, Victoria

  “Why not?” he demanded. That caused her mouth to drop again.

  “Why not? Hune!”

  “Why shouldn’t we see if this goes somewhere? Why shouldn’t I, for one fool of a bloody time, have something in my life that’s mine? Not something to benefit this wreck of a kingdom, or my father, or my brother with his cursed identity crisis, but me?”

  Kansten wrung her hands in her lap. “Hune, I’d like to see how things go myself. I would, but…. It was here that a mob attacked my mother for being a sorceress. They would have killed her, because she was too close to your father. They thought she’d control him.”

  “You’re not a sorceress. And I’m not king. I’ll never be king, praise the Giver. It’s not twenty-five years ago, either.”

  “No,” she agreed. “There’s no Zalski Forzythe. There’s Linstrom, a sorcerer just the same, threatening to wipe a village off the map.”

  “Don’t underestimate what a difference it’s made, Vane coming back to Herezoth. Taking up his title. He and August have been fine living a public life.”

  “What about Francie Rafe? Would you tell me she’s just dandy?”

  Hune’s voice quailed, but he insisted, “Vane’s changed the perception of magic. He has. Maybe, if things went well between us, a link between the royal family and a sorcerer’s family is the logical next step to what he’s accomplished. Can you concede that’s a possibility?”

  Kansten muttered, “It’s possible. It’s that, yes.” What else could she say?

  “Shall we agree to spend some time together? Unbeknownst to our parents?”

  A knot of guilt twisted Kansten’s stomach. What her Uncle Zac would say…. And her mother. Kora had always gone to such lengths to protect her children. And yet, what was Kansten agreeing to? Conversation? How dastardly! She latched onto the irony of the situation, the bit of humor, to compose herself.

  She said, “We’ll spend some time together. That’s innocent enough, or it should be. Under normal circumstances. What if someone gets hurt because of us?”

  “Because we spoke to one another? That’s unlikely. Highly unlikely. The only people who might get hurt are….” Were they themselves, but not physically. Heartbreak Kansten would risk. Good Giver, she wasn’t that much of a coward. Someone she loved being harmed, that was what frightened her.

  “You’re sure there’s no risk to other people? I’m trusting you to speak the truth.”

  “As much I complained about them not five minutes ago, I know what my obligations are, to this kingdom and to my family. I would never forsake them. I wouldn’t endanger others. You have my word there.”

  She nodded. “I’m keeping you from your work,” she reminded him.

  “I can finish with that tonight. Let’s talk a bit, if you can stay. Can you stay? There’s no telling when our paths might next cross, and it’s like a breeze in July to speak with you.”

  To speak with him felt more like being caught in a great, unexpected gust that made Kansten teeter on unsteady feet, but she judged it best not to say something like that. “I can stay some minutes, but not long. They’ll wonder what’s happened to me, at Oakdowns.”

  “Some scant minutes will have to do, then,” Hune replied. Kansten smiled. The turns of phrase he used, they were so different from anything she heard elsewhere. Vane wasn’t pretentious enough to be formal with Kora’s family.

  “I suppose some scant minutes will,” Kansten agreed. Her tone was mocking, but playfully so, and Hune grinned back at her.

  She almost asked about the Crystal Palace. She burned to know more about the building and its origins, more than her uncle’s books said about the subject. Kansten sensed, though, that topic of conversation would be of far less interest to Hune than to herself, and she judged it inappropriate, somehow, to quench such personal curiosity in the midst of the danger Linstrom posed. The smile faded from her face, and she asked Hune, “How well do you know Francie Rafe? What do you think of her?”

  “I hold her in the highest esteem. And I daresay it speaks volumes about you, if you admire her the way you said. You couldn’t model your aspirations, your values, on those of a worthier person.”

  “Have you worked much with the Magic Council?”

  “As often as I can arrange to. Francie, Vane, your uncle: their work’s important. More important than your average merchant or financier realizes. Let’s see now…. I organized a visit to Carphead, to the Academy, a couple of years ago for my brothers and me.”

  “What did you do in Carphead?”

  “We spoke with the students over meals. Rode horses with them on a tour of the village. Met with the Count of Carphead. He and Valkin each gave the town an address; Valkin’s was perfect for the occasion. He has more of a way with words than he believes.”

  Kansten lost track of time. They spoke for nearly an hour before she realized she must, truly must, return to Oakdowns before dark fell. Hune would not dare kiss her again, not after her reaction the first time, so when she noticed the sun had sunk in the sky, she kissed him before rushing to the stables and away from the Palace grounds.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The King’s Revenge

  When the king joined Kora and Vane, Vane excused himself, which the sorceress was hoping he’d do. The king had ridden to Oakdowns in no robe of office but in plain clothing, such as any man in the street might wear. Kora preferred Rexson, always, in that kind of garb, garb that reminded her of the time he had spent disinherited and hunted. The time he had spent with her.

  Kora had removed her bandana, for the day was hot and the fabric made her forehead sweat. She saw no harm in going without; Rexson was no stranger to her ruby. He’d first met her the day the Giver had marked her with it. At this point the two hadn’t spoken in a decade, and when Kora and Rexson found themselves alone, he told her, “It’s always a joy to see you. Always, no matter the circumstance.”

  Kora sighed. “I wish I could say the same. It’s always a crisis that brings us together. Some horror or other.”

  “The occasions may turn more frequent soon enough, and more pleasant, if my suspicions are correct.” Kora sent him a questioning stare, so he said, “Your Kansten. My Hune.”

  Kora paled. “That isn’t possible.”

  “Hune and I spent the afternoon in the library, working—in my case—with maps of Partsvale. Attempting to work, in that of my son. I couldn’t fathom the cause of his distraction, until Kansten came to summon me. Hune said nothing, but his eyes lit up. Then I made it here, to run into Zacry in the hall. He informed me that Kansten and Hune had found time to get to know each other.”

  “What? He told you and said nothing to…?”

  “Perhaps he thought I needed to know, my son being who he is. Zac wouldn’t want you to worry, Kora. He asked me not to tell you.”

  “We can’t allow this. We can’t let them….”

  “How would you stop them? I can’t claim to know your daughter, but I don’t suppose she’d obey if you forbade her from speaking to my son. As for Hune…. He’s the most down-to-earth of my children. Takes more joy in the simple things.

  “Valkin has no time to experience the simple things, I make sure of that. He keeps busy with matters of state. I’m happiest, I’ve noticed, when I’m too busy to spare a moment for philosophical musings or for nostalgia. It’s best Valkin keep occupied, whether with serious work or more trivial matters like helping me organize documents. Neslan is so grateful that his brother, and not he, will be king after me that he’s only too willing to lend Valkin his full support. I’ve seen him educated to fill that responsibility. Hune’s the one who tends to his horse and hounds, who enjoys the open air on a spring day. He knows the servants and the cityfolk on a personal level. I encourage him in such pursuits, for the tasks fulfill him, and the time he spends outside the Palace brings him knowledge to supplement Neslan’s. Hune’s common sense and understanding of our people, of how they live, that will benefit Valkin as much as the formal training Nes
lan enjoys.”

  Kora wished with all her soul Rexson’s youngest son had grown up so arrogant he would never have shifted a glance toward her Kancat.

  “My wife and I have worried about Hune of late. It’s clear to both of us that few women born noble would be a match to make him happy. I’ve always wanted my children to be happy, Kora, as happy as possible. Hune too, I imagine, can’t help but understand there’s something about a noblewoman’s hauteur that repulses him. Whatever you daughter’s feelings about him, I can understand how Hune might fall for her, and fall hard. I fear he already has. I don’t see what’s to be done beyond impressing the need for discretion on them.”

  “They can’t marry, not safely. I will not have my daughter suffer what August has, have some disgruntled duke try to stab her, or poison her tea, or….”

  “If they truly won’t be apart, why couldn’t they go to Traigland?”

  “You just told me how vital Hune will be to his brother. Not three minutes ago. Rexson….”

  “Couldn’t Zacry, or Vane, transport Hune here on those occasions Valkin needs him? Anyway, there’s no guarantee Hune and Kansten will seek to marry. They met only two days ago. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves; there are more urgent matters. The necklace?”

  “Vane’s cover’s as good as blown, but he’s safe, and he can tell you more of that. I need to speak of Linstrom’s lover.”

  Kora knew now where Lottie lived. Where Vane could find her. The king’s spy painted Lottie's feud with Terrance as a crack to wedge open; she swore the woman’s regard for her nephew—the nephew in Yangerton, Linstrom’s true target—was enough to tear her from the plot. Throughout the speech, Rexson said nothing. He listened with a placid expression that confused Kora, almost to the point of distracting her from her report. Only when she proposed amnesty for the sorceress did the king reply. His words detracted nothing from his inexplicable air of peace: no, better to say of trust.

  “If your instincts are saying we should go to Lottie, I’ll send Vane. I’ll send him gladly. This feels just like the days of the Crimson League, Kora. Your instincts never led us astray, not once over the course of a year, though it felt five times that long you were with us. Far be it from me to doubt your judgment now.”

  Kora took a deep breath. “I have to ask: are you considering having Linstrom assassinated, and the rest of his sorcerers? To prevent a public panic?”

  The king refused to answer. He held her gaze, however; he held it steadily, and Kora had known him well enough in their youths to take that as an affirmation.

  “If it comes to that, you’ll send me, do you understand? I won’t have Laskenay’s son, have my brother, doing that kind of work. You won’t twist their loyalty to you so that they stain themselves. Vane’s only killed when attacked, and my brother, never. You and I…. The League….”

  There had been scouting missions with the Crimson League, and raids, many of which had involved preemptive strikes. Kora paused, because she knew her voice would weaken if she did not. Then she finished, “You’ll send me, Lanokas.”

  The king did not react to his old alias. He nodded his consent, and changed the subject back to Linstrom’s lover as Kora dropped to the bed.

  “Brief Vane before he goes to Lottie, no? You’re the one with insight into Linstrom. You’re the one who went on such missions for the League, to turn enemies.” Kora agreed. “And make sure you’re tracking Linstrom while Vane’s gone. In fact, have Vane transport you just outside Lottie’s door. If Linstrom makes an appearance, you can intervene. I understand Vane’s been met with a visitor already today.”

  “He’s damn lucky to be alive. But forget Vane, for now. Vane’s proven he can care for himself. What of those who can’t, or won’t? What of our children?”

  Kora buried her face in her hands. She had left Herezoth a quarter-century ago, but she could not deceive herself. The place had changed little. Its people had changed little. She could hear them talking: men making lewd jokes over a pitcher of ale, women whispering at their looms.

  “Porteg’s daughter! I swear, Kent, I heard it from my cousin what works at the Palace. Porteg’s daughter and the prince. The bloody prince! … No, the youngest one. Same as the mother herself, ha! The mother missed her chance to breed a pedigree, so she sends her daughter in her stead. Perseverance like that deserves a toast. Give ‘em the blasted kingdom, I say. Just give it to ‘em, if they’ll wait that long for it. If they want it that badly.”

  “Shoots down them rumors ‘bout Porteg and the king, y’ know. He didn’t father her brats after all. She wouldn’t send her daughter to wed a brother. Not even Porteg would do that.”

  “Wouldn’t she?”

  “Hang you, I’m tryin’ to drink here. My stomach’s unsettled as it is.”

  “Oh, Annette, they say the tart’s got no more magic than me. But what does that matter? We all know where she comes from. WHAT she comes from. What havoc she’ll wreak upon us.”

  “When will they learn, Katt? When will the royals learn? Was Zalski not enough? Oh, I tell you, some days I wonder if it wouldn’t have been best for him just to have killed them all. He nearly did, of course. Things were bad with him, but at least a person knew what to expect. Knew what was coming. The worst was already upon us. That’s a sight better than this waiting for it to fall again.”

  If only the talk would be all. It wouldn’t. Threats would follow, perhaps threats made good.

  Kora spoke without looking up, her voice muffled through her fingers. “I should never have let Kansten come here. Never have let Vane convince me….”

  The king took a seat beside her, on the edge of the bed. He laid a hand on her shoulder.

  “It’s crushing to think she’ll renew the insults directed at me, but that isn’t the worst of it, not by half. I won’t have her suffer what I did, or worse. I won’t have her know that pain. People are…. They’re so horribly cruel. She has no understanding of that, of this place. She’s lived in such peace until now. I made sure of that, Lanokas. I swore my children would know the serenity denied me, no matter the cost to myself, no matter how difficult I found it to hide my scars. I tried to redirect her aspirations, away from Herezoth, but she wouldn’t have it. Perhaps I’m to blame for that. Perhaps I hid my scars too well. Had she seen them, and known what Herezoth does to…. Whatever the reason, Kansten stood firm. I gave in. I had to. I could give in or lose her respect. I let her come here, but I never thought….”

  Rexson said, “Our children will be fine. Neither one of us would let them come to harm, you know that. They’re adults, the both of them, and fine ones: bold and resourceful, but dutiful. Responsible.” The king lifted her chin with a hand. “My Hune is, at least, and I could tell that of your girl. How could she be anything less, with you her mother? She’s determined to prove herself your daughter, if I had to guess, though she’s clearly that and fully so.”

  Kora sighed. “She’s always felt broken. Less than whole, somehow, not having magic.”

  The king pressed his lips together. “I’d forgotten her lack of magic. That’s something more to bring Hune and her together. He’s not the magic I have, though his brothers….”

  A resigned nod from Kora. “Perhaps they’re meant to be,” she mused. “Meant to be together, meant to be what we couldn’t.”

  The king repeated his exhortation not to worry. “They’re young, but they’re capable. They each deserve a spouse worthy of them, though whether that’s each other…. Time will tell. It’s for them to determine, Kora. Should we rip them apart, they would only resent us. We’ve no right to dictate their lives at the age they’ve reached. I’ll keep Kansten safe, and if this match takes shape, the political inconvenience is mine to worry about. I’d take on fiercer opposition than that for my children’s sake.”

  Rexson was right. From the depths of memory, Kora dredged up the love she and the man beside her once had shared; they would have married, had fate been kinder. Would have felt no one ever born more
blessed than they, to spend their lives together. Imagining what could have been, how could Kora rip that chance from under her daughter’s feet? How could she do anything else than wish her Kancat every happiness? As Rexson had said, the pair needn’t live in Herezoth, should they wish to marry in a year or two.

  Kora consented, “I won’t forbid Kansten to pass word with your sons, any one of them. I’ll focus on the blessings she and Hune might share.”

  “I’d never let them come to harm,” the king repeated. Kora nodded, and thanked him for the reassurance. Those were no empty words, knowing the man he was and the power of his station. As Kora had nothing more to report to him, she judged it best that he should go. He rose to do so, with a friendly grin and a fiendish gleam in his eye.

  Kora had filled a glass of water in the room next door but not yet drunk it. It sat on the bedside table nearest Rexson, and Kora, unsuspecting, wasn’t fast enough to duck or to dodge the deluge of liquid he splashed in her bandana-free face. Water slid down the front of her cotton frock, fell beneath it to wet her chest. She sat so frozen she nearly let the glass he tossed to her in boyish triumph land in her lap, but she caught it.

  “Thought I’d forgotten that tavern, didn’t you? The night you threw your ale at me?”

  Kora laughed through her shock. “To create a diversion! A necessary diversion!”

  “Consider yourself well paid. Two decades later, it’s true, but you know what they say about revenge.”

  Kora rose to meet the king’s challenge, crossing her arms in protest. A crimson shell appeared around her, one that no magic could breach, as far as experience allowed her to hypothesize. She had been able to evoke that shell ever since her ruby attached to her forehead at the age of seventeen. “Revenge should be served as a cold dish, not a drink.”

  “At times, one must extemporize.”

  That set Kora laughing again, and she moved her arms to her hips, which dissolved her shell. “You of all people should know better than to antagonize a sorceress.”