King’s Wrath

by Fiona McIntosh

  “What have you discovered?” Kilt asked, knowing Jewd would have asked some leading questions of the innkeeper to get a feel for the mood of the city.

  Jewd licked his lips from his first sip from his own tankard. “Well, Loethar’s not here, predictably, but apparently Stracker is in the palace.”

  This won Kilt’s attention. “He was quick to get back.”

  Jewd nodded. “Apparently a lot of the Greens drink here. The landlord heard just an hour ago that the general re-entered the city.”

  “Well, that’s of little consequence to us,” Kilt dismissed. “We’re staying well out of his way. Anything else?”

  Jewd shrugged. “There’s something going on in the main square shortly. The landlord doesn’t know what it is but he reckons it’s connected with the palace. This place was teeming with Greens just minutes before we arrived and now look.”

  Kilt did. His mouth twitched. “No soldiers here that I can see.”

  “That’s right. They’ve all been called.”

  “That doesn’t concern us either.”

  “No, but,” Jewd lifted one shoulder slightly, “you wanted to know what the landlord’s saying.”

  Kilt nodded. “I’m sorry. I can’t stop thinking about Lily. We have to presume that if she’s posing as Felt’s wife she’s somewhere in and around his lodgings.” He stroked his fake beard.

  Normally Jewd would have grinned at the gesture but he remained stony-faced, barely looking up as the serving girl plonked down two steaming pies.

  “Careful not to burn your lips, sir. They’re just out of the oven,” she warned.

  “Thanks,” Jewd said, distracted. Once she was out of earshot, he continued, “Well, Freath lived at the palace. And as Kirin was his close offsider I guess we have to assume that he too had rooms within Brighthelm.”

  Kilt blinked angrily. “I wanted to avoid the castle.”

  “We can. We’ll pay someone to take a message.”

  “That’s too risky.”

  “Not really. We’ll use a child. There’s always someone who knows their way around the palace who wants to earn a few extra trents.”

  Kilt bit into his pie, not really tasting it but knowing his body needed food. Besides, Jewd would become a flea in his ear if he didn’t eat.

  The innkeeper passed them and caught Jewd’s eye.

  “Good pie,” Jewd remarked.

  “My wife’s. No better in the city,” the man replied. “By the way, I’ve just heard what’s going on, why the Greens left in a hurry.”

  “Oh?” Jewd said and Kilt noticed he deliberately sounded disinterested, more concerned with slurping up the sticky duck meat that was oozing from his pie.

  “Well, word has it that there’s going to be some sort of public punishment in the main square.”

  “Public punishment?” Kilt joined in, frowning. “Seems normal enough.”

  The innkeeper shrugged. “Actually, no. Emperor Loethar banned it years ago. He made an edict that anyone who is proven responsible for a crime will pay his dues behind closed doors. He didn’t think families should have to publicly suffer the humiliation of their kin’s deeds.”

  Jewd’s brow knitted together. “Doesn’t sound like the move of a conquering invader.”

  “Ah, but he’s a good man is the emperor.” The innkeeper put his hands up. “I know, I know. He took his crown from a sea of Denovian blood but,” he gave a small shrug, “I think he rules well. We all do.”

  “No question of that,” Jewd said, clearly choosing not to ruffle any feathers.

  “General Stracker has a stomach for suffering, though, and he’s obviously decided to make a wrongdoer suffer public humiliation and pain. And with the emperor away he’s in charge.”

  “Why do they need the Greens?” Jewd wondered aloud.

  “To set it all up, keep the crowds back, I suppose,” the man said.

  They were interrupted by a youth. “Dad, the word on the street is that it’s going to be an execution,” the youngster said, eyes shining.

  “Find your sisters and make sure they’re indoors with their mother. They don’t need to see anything like that.”

  “Clara would love it,” his son admitted.

  “Nevertheless,” his father said. “Whose execution, did you hear?”

  The boy shook his head. “I didn’t really pay attention. A husband and wife.”

  “Lo, strike me!” the man replied. “It’s gone to two people now.” He nodded at Kilt and Jewd, and left hurriedly.

  “They must be important for Stracker to be putting on such a show,” Jewd remarked, tucking into his pie. “This is hitting the spot,” he said through a full mouth.

  Kilt had almost finished his food. “Well, I don’t care about it. It just means Stracker and his Greens are looking the other way. Makes our job easier of getting word to Lily in the palace.” He found a sad grin.

  “I’ll be finished in a blink,” Jewd said, cramming what looked to Kilt to be near enough half the pie into his mouth.

  “Don’t rush. I always find watching you eat such absorbing entertainment.”

  “Go to hell,” Jewd shot at him through a still crowded mouth. Then he stood. “Ready when you are.” He swallowed and burped.

  “You were always the uncouth one.”

  “I know deep down you’d rather be wearing the dress disguise than the beard, so that is probably making you cranky,” Jewd replied and they both grinned, Kilt revelling in the fleeting chance to parry insults with his friend. For just a moment or two, life felt normal.

  Once outside, though, that lightness evaporated and they found themselves among a crowd of people hurrying in the same direction. Jewd pointed. “We can probably take a shortcut through there,” he said, “and reach the palace without having to wade through this mob. They must all be headed to the execution.”

  “I feel ashamed for them,” Kilt murmured. “You’d think they’d have seen enough death for a lifetime.”

  Jewd shrugged.

  An older woman took refuge next to them. She looked thunderous. “Pah! These people. Are they really that keen to see Denovian blood spilled again?” she asked them.

  “My thoughts exactly,” Kilt replied.

  “What do you know about the couple in question?” Jewd asked her.

  “Nothing, really. I don’t know her at all—to be honest I didn’t even know he was married.”

  “But you know him, obviously,” Kilt replied.

  “Oh, vaguely, I suppose. I know of him, I’ve seen him around the city with that man, Freath. I have no idea what Master Felt has done to incur the wrath of the emperor. Maybe it has something to do with Freath’s death.”

  “Felt?” Kilt repeated, shock traveling through him at such speed he felt his heart pounding hard in his chest. “Kirin Felt and his new wife, Lily?”

  “Is that her name?” she asked distractedly, then shrugged. “I told you, I wouldn’t know and I’m not interested to see anyone executed. I’m just trying to get home.”

  Jewd was already moving. “Excuse us, madam.” He dragged Kilt through the people they’d been trying to avoid and down several small lanes. Kilt trailed behind him like a child being led.

  He hauled Jewd to a stop finally. “Stracker is going to kill Lily,” he said, slightly glassy-eyed. “We have to get to the square.”

  Kirin’s mind was in chaos. He had regained consciousness on the floor of Loethar’s salon only to discover that he was blind. The push of magic required to fool the rationality of two men at once had claimed a very high price. But at least Lily had escaped Stracker’s clutches. He was glad to exchange his sight for her freedom; it was a price worth paying.

  He no longer cared what happened to him. Freath was dead. Clovis was dead. He was just another in the queue of loyalists who had risked their lives for the Valisars. He only hoped Lily would be able to get news of everything they’d learned to Leo.

  His escort gave him a push. “What’s wrong with you?”<
br />
  “I’m blind,” he said, stumbling again. “Where are we going?” he asked, allowing himself to be helped into a cart.

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “I see,” Kirin said and then smiled grimly at the irony of his words.

  He sat down tentatively and traveled in silence, amazed suddenly by how much information he was able to glean without the use of his eyes; he could work out that the afternoon was warm, that there was little or no breeze today. He knew when they were passing by the bakery, he caught a whiff on the air of the tannery to the west, and he could work out simply from the intensity of voices around him that they were approaching the central square.

  Who needs sight? he thought to himself, digging deep to find his courage as the cart lurched to a halt.

  “The main square?” he inquired, not anticipating an answer.

  “I’m afraid so, Master Felt,” his escort said.

  “You sound embarrassed,” Kirin replied. “Don’t be. What’s your name?”

  “Bern.”

  “Well, Bern, I know you are performing your duty.”

  “That’s generous of you, Master Felt.”

  “Just don’t let my knees buckle. I’d rather give the impression that I was very brave at the end.” He used an arch tone as though he was jesting but he was sure they both knew he was asking for help to get through whatever trial awaited.

  “I won’t let you fall, Master Felt,” Bern assured. “Our emperor would not agree with what is happening today.”

  “Then you are surely not a Green.”

  “No. I am a proud Red. And while we accept Stracker as our general, it is Loethar who rules us. We have not been told where he is, but you can be sure there will be a reckoning for this.”

  “Too late for me, though,” Kirin said, angry with himself for falling straight into the very self-pity he wanted to avoid.

  “Yes, for both of you, sir.”

  “Both?” He sensed Bern’s hesitation and clutched at the man. “What do you mean, both of us?”

  “Your . . . your wife as well, Master Felt.”

  Kirin felt the bile rise to his throat. “Lily?” he choked out.

  “Is that her name? She is a very pretty woman, Master Felt. I am very sorry for both of you. Here she is. Aludane save me, there looks to be a third prisoner too.”

  But Kirin couldn’t care less about another prisoner. He strained to see her even though he knew he couldn’t. “Lily! Lily!” he cried.

  And the one voice he adored with all his heart but hoped he would never hear again cut through the rabble of excited voices. “Kirin!” he heard her answer in an anxious shriek.

  “Please, Bern, please, let me speak with her.”

  “Master Felt, I—”

  “I beg you! One favor for a condemned man.”

  Once again he heard his companion hesitate and then he heard Bern speaking in the guttural tribal language. Moments later he felt Lily’s familiar hand grasping his.

  “Lily!”

  “I’m so sorry,” she choked out, her voice trembling. “They hunted us down.”

  Another voice broke in. “Kirin, forgive me.”

  “Father Briar?” He frowned, turned to the voice, his staring eyes seeing nothing.

  “What’s happened to you?” It was Lily again. “Your eyes, Kirin. Can you not see?” She sounded even more anguished.

  “It’s not important. My eyes are nothing. I would give my life for you, Lily.”

  “Oh, Kirin.” She broke down.

  He couldn’t bear to hear her weeping and hugged her closer, despite the trauma, helplessly glad of one last chance to hold her tight. “I’m so sorry I brought this upon you.” He kissed her head. “I love you, Lily. And I will love you through eternity. I will bargain for your life.”

  “Too late, Master Felt,” said a chillingly familiar voice. Stracker laughed. “This is a very touching scene, I must say. And Father Briar. I’ve long wanted to see you pay your dues.”

  “Dues?” Briar said, his tone querulous.

  “I’ve never trusted you, priest. You and Freath . . . and Felt . . . conniving, I thought.”

  “May Lo forgive you,” Briar said firmly. Kirin silently applauded his friend’s courage.

  “I don’t need his or any other gods’ forgiveness, priest.”

  “Perhaps you’ll need your half-brother’s, though, Stracker,” Kirin joined in, enjoying the sound of defiance in his voice.

  “Too bad for you Loethar’s not here now,” Stracker cackled. “Let’s begin . . . perhaps Mrs. Felt first?”

  “Be done, general,” Lily railed at him, clearly finding her own well of courage. “You and your kind sicken me. It was merely a charade that you primitive people could live within a civilized structure.”

  Kirin heard her cry out. She had been struck. The crowd began to protest.

  “Yes, we’ll do the slut first, shall we? Obviously your dark magic takes its price. Pity you can’t watch, Master Felt, but I can assure you you’ll fully experience all that Mrs. Felt does very soon.” Stracker laughed close to Kirin’s face.

  “I enjoyed tampering with your mind,” Kirin said, shocking himself by admitting the level of magic he had guarded so rigorously for so long. There was a telling pause from Stracker and Kirin pressed on. “Yes, general, I manipulated you and the disgusting creature known as Vulpan. And we nearly got away with it. Perhaps you should have slaughtered me along with all the innocents ten anni ago.”

  “I’ve changed my mind. We will execute Kirin Felt first. His wife can go next.”

  “For what crime, general?” Kirin challenged as loudly as he could make his voice carry.

  “Treason!” the general roared.

  “Can I not defend myself?” Kirin demanded.

  “You are guilty!” roared Stracker.

  “We cannot call ourselves a just society unless we allow the people to hear all sides of any argument.” Kirin turned his blind eyes to where he knew the crowd stood and used all his strength to challenge Stracker’s charges. He could feel the discontent rippling through the audience. “Emperor Loethar would permit me to answer all accusations levelled at me. His general does not. All of you bear witness to this charade. This is simply an excuse for the general to get rid of anyone who challenges him as he makes his attempt to usurp the throne from his—” Kirin felt the side of his head explode in sharp pain and he fell to his knees, feeling dizzy.

  “You brute!” he heard Lily hurl at the general.

  “Get him in position,” Stracker ordered. “I’ll do him myself.”

  Kirin was hauled to his feet and dragged forward. He realized death was hurtling toward him.

  “Spare my wife, General Stracker, and I will admit to any accusation you care to level at me.”

  “Too late, Felt. She defied me.”

  “But that’s her only crime. Do you hear that, Denovians? General Stracker is executing Lily Felt simply for being my wife and trying to escape an unfair death.”

  The crowd roared its disapproval. Kirin felt a small stab of satisfaction. As hollow as it was, it was a tiny triumph to hear them turning against the ruling authority.

  “Kirin Felt has been proven guilty of treason. You should all be howling for his head.”

  “What did he do?” someone yelled.

  Stracker shouldn’t have fallen for the baiting, but he did. “The man was plotting to kill the emperor,” he yelled.

  “Where’s the proof?” shouted another voice from the same region, Kirin thought.

  “Let them go! Let them go!” the first man chanted.

  The second man joined in the demand and within a few heartbeats the crowd around them had picked up the mantra and was yelling it back.

  Kirin felt the sound like a wave of noise that almost made him sway it was so loud, so intense. He began to grin.

  The chant had picked up momentum and it was now sounding angry. The crowd was raising its collective fist, many individuals punc
hing the air. Lily was sorry Kirin could see none of it. She wasn’t sure if the tears she wept were for his courage and the sorrow of his new affliction, or for the recognition of two voices that she loved in the crowd.

  Kilt was here. And so was Jewd. She would know their voices anywhere. She could pick out Kilt now with his ridiculous dark beard and thatch of dark hair. Not far away stood huge Jewd. He couldn’t hide his size but he was in full disguise with his own long, dark wig of dun brown hair and robes that suggested he belonged to the church—not a priest but . . . She mentally shook her head. What did it matter! They were here. And, bless them, they were urging the crowd to revolt.

  Stracker looked like a man possessed by a devil. The tatua of his face was contorted as his mouth pulled back in an angry snarl. He was barking orders in the tribal language of the Steppes that only his soldiers understood.

  And now Lily felt her panic take flight because darling Kirin was being pushed to his knees. She watched, petrified, her screams dying in her throat as General Stracker drew his huge, ghastly sword. She’d heard the rumor that he sharpened it but never washed it and, true enough, there were spatters of dark, dried blood at the top of the sword and over its hilt. Its edge looked keen, though, as though sharpening it kept it clean of all guilt from its battles.

  Do something! her desperate glance at Kilt begged, but he too looked shocked, either mesmerized by the chanting of the crowd or unaccepting that death was really coming. She looked at Kirin and was glad he appeared lost within himself and his prayers.

  There was nothing anyone could do. She knew that now. Kirin was about to lose his head and she was next. Father Briar had his eyes closed and was murmuring in prayer for all of them.

  She wanted to close her eyes too. She couldn’t bear to watch Kirin die but she needed to bear witness. She was his wife. Until death part us—wasn’t that part of her vow?

  “Lily,” he called in her direction, just for her hearing, and her heart broke. “I love you.”

  Her tears flowed freely now for him and she shocked herself by responding so affirmatively. “I love you too, Kirin.”

  And Stracker’s gleeful blade swept down.

  Even more lost than he had felt when his aegis magic had responded to Loethar’s Valisar magic, Kilt watched with a sense of guilt as Kirin Felt paid the ultimate price for his loyalty to the grand royal dynasty that most people had already set aside. He gave the signal to Jewd.