King’s Wrath

by Fiona McIntosh

  Corbel nodded, feeling embarrassed by his lies. “I shall do that, Mother.”

  “I hope the Qirin provides enlightenment.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Kirin turned to Lily. She couldn’t have known. He filled his expression with forgiveness, masking, he hoped, his intense fear for her safety.

  “Unless I’m mistaken,” the general began, his tatua beginning to stretch with the cruel smile that was forming beneath it, “and I was only there an anni ago—there is no mill on Medhaven. Flour is brought—as are most supplies—over the small channel of water by boat from the mainland.”

  Kirin sighed silently as he regarded the woman he loved. His mind raced as he watched Lily hesitate before, to his enormous pride, he saw her gather herself. “Well, you’re wrong, General Stracker,” she defied politely. “Forgive me, but there is a small mill.” She turned back to Kirin and smiled. “I’m sure you remember,” she urged gently. She returned her attention to the towering general. “There has been since before I or Kirin were born. But the family didn’t survive well, especially not when the miller himself died unexpectedly not long after you left,” she said, glancing at him. “Link tried to keep the family business running but I’m sorry to say it perished. Of course you’re right, general, that all our supplies come from across the channel into Port Killen . . . including our flour these days.” She beamed him a smile. “I’m sorry that you didn’t taste the Chervil Bakery bread. It was the best of the realms in its day.”

  Stracker’s eyes narrowed as he regarded the innocent expression on Lily’s face. Kirin was amazed, but covered his awe as best he could and looked straight forward. If he’d so much as caught Lily’s eye he was sure he would have felt moved to applaud.

  “You said this Chervil fellow is a miller,” Stracker growled. “I might be from the Steppes, Mrs. Felt, but I understand the subtlety of the Denovian language better than you think.”

  Lily swallowed, smiled even brighter. “My mistake, general. A slip of the tongue. You make me feel nervous. Leak is no longer a miller, of course, but I always think of him as dusted in flour and smelling of his breads.” She nodded. “Forgive me. These days I believe Leak is eking out a living as a grower. His father also owned some orchards.”

  Stracker’s gaze slid ominously back to Kirin. “So let me get this right, Felt. You conveniently left Freath shortly before he also left the tavern to meet his fate, and you traveled to Medhaven where you coincidentally met your former sweetheart, whom you happily married.”

  Kirin tried Lily’s tack of smiling. He hoped it had just the right amount of embarrassment in it. “General, when you put it so baldly like that it sounds far-fetched. But this is the truth. Yes, I left that evening so that I could join a merchant caravan that was leaving at nightfall. As far as I was concerned Master Freath was turning in for the evening because he had an important meeting with the mayor the next morning on behalf of Emperor Loethar. I headed south simply because I hadn’t been home in such a long time. Perhaps in the back of my mind I hoped that Lily hadn’t married, although I was incredibly surprised that she hadn’t.”

  The general regarded them both with suspicion although his glance toward Lily was also lascivious. “So am I,” he replied. “And you went directly south?” he added casually.

  Kirin hesitated while he decided whether Stracker would know of the diversion to Woodingdene. He had to take the risk; they had to get out of this chamber. “We traveled swiftly,” he said, shrugging. “I broke away from the caravan to head for Camlet.” He glanced again at Lily as he crafted his lie. “I took a ferry across the river into Vorgaven and then a fast carriage south to another ferry across to Medhaven.”

  “You have been busy, Master Felt, over the last days. And still found time to meet, rekindle a former love and marry, no less.”

  Kirin smiled. “And still be back for dinner,” he said, quoting an old rhyme.

  Clearly the general didn’t know it, for his expression clouded. Kirin didn’t try explaining. He watched Stracker reach for a bell pull. They heard the bell sound distantly in the hallway outside and Kirin felt his heart skip. Perhaps they’d got through the interrogation.

  “General Stracker,” Lily said into what felt like an awkward pause. “I can’t help but notice a wound on your forehead. Would you like me to treat that? I am a healer.”

  The general’s tatua stretched malevolently. “What wound?”

  “Er . . .” Lily glanced at Kirin, fearful. She pointed helplessly to her own head, mirroring the position of the wound. “It looks rather nasty. Perhaps a stitch or two would—”

  “Mrs. Felt,” Stracker cut across her words. “I am of the Steppes.” He glanced disdainfully at Kirin. “We are not a soft people. If I have a wound I have not noticed it and it can wait until I can be bothered to clean up.”

  She nodded, embarrassed. “Of course, general. I just don’t want it to get infected.”

  He laughed at her. “It is touching that you say that as if you really care.”

  Before she could respond there was a knock at the door and Kirin felt a wave of relief wash over him. Perhaps now they could escape this tense, difficult confrontation.

  “Come!” Stracker bellowed, glancing at Kirin with a satisfaction that Kirin could not read. “Ah, Master Vulpan. I presume you remember Master and Mrs. Felt?”

  Kirin’s hopes disintegrated. The hideous blood taster nodded, self-satisfied. “Of course I do. The very handsome Vested couple I met very recently. Mrs. Felt,” he said, holding up his bandaged hand. “Your magical ministrations didn’t work. I’m most disappointed.”

  Lily looked at Kirin and he begged her through a glance to hold her nerve . . . for just a few heartbeats longer.

  “You’ve lied to me, Felt,” Stracker accused, clearly relishing the taut atmosphere and the sense of pervading fear that Kirin knew he and Lily were offering up.

  He gave a tight, embarrassed smile. “Yes, I have.”

  “Why?”

  “Frankly because I don’t think you like me, General Stracker. I think you’ve been looking for an excuse to slit my throat for years.”

  Stracker laughed, loud, genuine amusement. But the mirth died in his eyes almost as quickly as it had arrived. “You’re right. I don’t like you, Felt.”

  “I don’t know what I’ve ever done to earn your displeasure, general.”

  “I’ve always thought that you and Freath were hatching something.”

  “Hatching something?” Kirin repeated, as offended as he could possibly sound, despite the lump forming in his throat. “Hatching something against you?”

  “Me, my brother, the empire . . .”

  “No, general. You are absolutely wrong about that,” Kirin said and began to feel a low protest of pain deep in his head.

  At the sight of Vulpan, Lily quailed. As Kirin and the general debated a moot point that she was sure Stracker was simply amusing himself with, she watched the man of blood watching her, licking his lips in anticipation. The way his eyes moved over her she was sure that she and Kirin would not be kept together if they survived the next few moments, even though Kirin was doing his best to sound undaunted, speaking back to the general as though they were simply discussing a matter of business and not their lives.

  Stracker hadn’t pulled his cunning trick simply for amusement. He had wanted to trap Kirin, to give himself the formal excuse he needed to punish the Vested. Perhaps Kirin had a chance at survival if they transported him off to wherever it was the Vested were being held—somewhere in Barronel. But she? Vulpan had already accused her, in his cunning way, of cheating. Very soon they would discover that she didn’t have an enchanted bone in her body. And it didn’t take much imagination to visualize what fate awaited her.

  “The mere fact that you have lied to me so blatantly, Master Kirin, suggests you are a man of intrigue,” Stracker accused.

  Kirin’s shoulders slumped. “Look, general, I have no more to say on the matter. I have nothing
more to hide from you. I simply didn’t overcomplicate my explanation with details of meeting Master Vulpan. I’m sure he will confirm that I am Vested and that my wife and I were compliant and open with him.”

  “You are certainly Vested, Master Kirin,” Vulpan said. “And yes, once cornered, you were compliant. But somewhere between the pair of you is a lie. I sense it . . . I tasted it in her blood. Something is not right.”

  Stracker’s expression changed. He adopted a look of puzzlement. “Mrs. Felt, can you tell me about your brother, please?”

  “My . . . my brother?” she stammered, forcing herself not to glance at Kirin. “What do you know about my brother?” she said, desperately hoping for some clues and some time to formulate a response.

  “I have met him.”

  “I can’t imagine how . . . or why?”

  “Really?” Stracker asked, surprised. “He seemed very concerned for you.”

  She took a deep breath. “He’s like that. But I haven’t seen him in a while.”

  “How long?”

  “I . . . I can’t remember.”

  “Your mother’s dead,” he said, matter of factly, seeming to be enjoying himself.

  Lily groped her way forward, hoping she would learn more if she offered something. Her mother had been dead for so long it was laughable. “What did my brother say? And how did you meet?”

  “We met because he was trying to find you. Actually it was Vulpan he saw first.”

  “That’s right,” Vulpan said, looking smug.

  Lily noticed that Kirin was very quiet. She hoped he was taking stock, listening carefully, formulating some plan for them.

  “He was obviously trying to let me know about our mother, then,” she risked.

  They both nodded, to her relief.

  “Yes, that’s what he said. He had followed your trail to Woodingdene.”

  She stared at the general, no idea of what to say next.

  “And where is Lily’s brother now, general?” Kirin said.

  “We’ll get to that, Master Felt. I’m interested to hear from your wife about her brother.”

  “Why?” Lily asked. “We are not close. I have nothing to tell you about him.”

  “Not close?” Stracker’s brow lifted. “What a pity. He seemed so concerned for you. So anxious to reach you. And here you are so uncaring of his brotherly affection?” He gave a soft tutting sound. “What does your brother do, Mrs. Felt?”

  She knew she was trapped. Although the only person who would follow her was Kilt, she was sure. He would have heard by now of her questionable decision to follow Kirin Felt so closely that she had claimed to be his wife. She could imagine how he received that news—in fact she could imagine it so vividly, Lily could see the expression on his face. Gone would be the mirth that was an almost permanent quality of Kilt’s sardonic expression. His face would darken, his eyelids would close slightly and his lips would thin. Again just slightly. But all of these subtle changes would occur in less than a heartbeat and everyone in his camp knew that look.

  Though she hated him at times for locking her out, keeping his emotions so tightly controlled, there were other times, like now, when she loved him for risking his life so openly in order to protect her. She tried to run through in her mind all his various disguises. Which one might he have chosen to masquerade as her brother? She had no idea, but she knew that guessing wrong would be lethal.

  And so she gave him only silence.

  Stracker smiled and it was filled with a malevolent satisfaction.

  “I’ll tell you what’s not right here, Vulpan. It’s the fact that Mrs. Felt was being hotly pursued by a man who called himself Pastor Jeeves, who might have acted the part of a priest, but was clearly so much more by being Vested.”

  That shocked her. “Vested? I don’t think so.”

  It was Vulpan’s chance to turn on his oily grin. “Oh yes, indeed, Mrs. Felt. Make no mistake. The man who claimed to be your brother is Vested.”

  At first it made no sense and she began to shake her head, wanting to laugh at them for their pitiful stupidity. But then realization hit her so hard it felt like a sharp pain in her belly. Was that Kilt’s secret? The possibility took her breath away. She knew her expression was sagging in its shock, that her mouth was open. Kilt . . . Vested? There had never been any sign of it. She trawled through her memories of being with him. No! He had never once used any magic.

  Maybe the man pursuing her hadn’t been Kilt. “Are you sure this was my brother? Was he very tall, bearded?” she said, mimicking a bushy growth. Kilt might have a number of disguises but Jewd was so distinctive that she could describe him easily. And if he had been present then she could be sure they were referring to Kilt as the pastor.

  Stracker’s amusement died and was replaced with a scowl. “No. That big Denovian will one day swing from a noose I’ll tie myself after I’ve split his gut open with my blade. He helped your brother escape.”

  “Escape?” Lily repeated. “Was he your prisoner?”

  “He was my prisoner.”

  “But why?”

  “He was Vested, Mrs. Felt,” Vulpan explained in his annoyingly polite way. “And he was immensely potent. He resisted blood tasting, only relented when I assured him that the Wikken Shorgan had identified him.”

  Immensely potent, Lily repeated in her mind. Suddenly everything she knew about Kilt seemed to disintegrate. She felt sick to the pit of her stomach. Why hadn’t he shared this?

  “Mrs. Felt, I think we should all stop pretending.”

  “Pretending?” she said, feeling annoyed at repeating so much but she was desperate for time to think this all through.

  “Yes, pretending that we don’t all know exactly who the man disguised as a priest happened to be. I’ll stake this empire on the fact that it was not your brother.”

  It was Kirin who gave her courage. “You don’t have an empire to stake, General Stracker,” he remarked coolly.

  “In my brother’s absence, I am the emperor,” Stracker growled. He returned his hard gaze, peering from beneath the dark green tatua, to Lily. “And I’d stake the empire again, Mrs. Felt, on a bet that Pastor Jeeves is not only no relation to you but that he is none other than the famed outlaw Kilt Faris.”

  Lily felt her fear so tangibly now its presence was like a person standing next to her, smiling with sinister pleasure at her spiral into terror. She reached for Kirin, grabbed his hand, and felt a spike of reassurance as he wrapped his fingers around hers.

  Kirin seemed to straighten. She thought she might even have heard him sigh before he addressed their captor. “General Stracker, wherever this is leading, my wife is entirely innocent. Her brother, whom she hasn’t seen for years, suddenly started looking for her to let her know her mother has died.” He shrugged. “Sounds feasible to me. You say he is Vested. She tells you she didn’t know this. But if she is Vested then it makes sense that he could be also. They say the power of magic can run in families. Please, General Stracker, she is a simple girl from Medhaven with no knowledge of palace life, politics or intrigues. Do you agree?”

  Lily was stunned when Stracker’s face clouded. He looked momentarily hesitant and then he nodded. His lips seemingly struggling to open, finally he said, “I agree.”

  Kirin’s gaze moved to Vulpan. “You expressed some confusion, Master Vulpan, but I suspect you too can agree that Mrs. Felt has no case to answer. She should be given her freedom to leave the palace.”

  Vulpan’s brow creased in what looked to be a momentary bewilderment. Lily’s own puzzlement intensified. What was going on?

  “Master Vulpan?” Kirin prompted.

  “Yes, yes, I agree. So long as the general agrees.”

  “Thank you. General Stracker. Can we let my wife leave right now, please?”

  Stracker looked fully perplexed now. He was concentrating hard but couldn’t shake the mystification in his expression. “You are who I wish to talk with. I see no reason for her to remain here. She
may go,” he said.

  Kirin turned to Lily and she saw his remaining good eye had drooped. She realized what he had done for her and felt herself crumple inside, like all the wind had been knocked out of her.

  “There is no time for long goodbyes, Lily,” Kirin said, forcing another of his sad smiles. “Go now.” His voice was light, despite the struggle she could see he was having. “Please, Lily. General Stracker and Master Vulpan have kindly released you from here. My suggestion is that you go home.” The emphasis he put on the word home told her that she should return to Faris, to the forests.

  “Kirin, I . . .” She could hear her voice was laced with shock and regret.

  “Go, my darling. I have business here to finish with General Stracker.” She glanced at the two men. They looked suspended in their puzzlement. “Please hurry,” Kirin urged.

  She threw her arms around him, kissing his neck. “What will happen to you?” she whispered.

  “Lily, just go,” he begged. “It won’t last. Get away as fast as you can.”

  She unlocked her grip from around his neck, torn. She couldn’t imagine what she was leaving Kirin to face but it would be reckless for her to ignore what he was giving her—or the price he was paying to gift her freedom.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Gently he kissed her, their lips touching fleetingly, and she realized with regret that she hadn’t even had the opportunity to sort out her feelings for him.

  “Touching,” Stracker remarked. “Mrs. Felt, please return to your husband’s chambers.”

  Kirin’s look told her to disobey that command. She recalled what he’d said about the chapel and the side entrance. She had money, even her cloak was still about her shoulders. She curtseyed to both men. “Thank you, general. I’ll see you later, Kirin,” she said, squeezing his arm, too frightened to weep but feeling the sting of tears at her eyes. “Will we . . . ?”

  He shook his head slightly, his eyelid drooping further. She had to swallow her panic and revulsion. She couldn’t imagine the pain he was experiencing. “Goodbye, Lily.”