King’s Wrath

by Fiona McIntosh

  “Elka, stay back,” he warned.

  “What’s happening here?”

  “Help!” Roddy cried, his arms outstretched to Elka.

  Clever boy, Loethar thought, reaching out to Elka’s maternal instincts. Right enough, Elka’s eyes narrowed. He knew that look. She could probably snap his bones with all that strength she possessed.

  “Put the child down,” she said quietly.

  All he could do was shake his head.

  “What has got into you?”

  “He’s an aegis,” Loethar said bluntly. He watched her balk at the mention of the word.

  She watched him carefully, her face serious. Janus muttered something to her that Loethar couldn’t hear. She shook her head.

  Her gaze bore into him, her eyes dark and angry and filled with loathing. “Loethar, he is a child. You are better than this.”

  He licked his lips, hating himself for what must appear a sign of weakness. “Everyone wants to kill me, Elka. I need protection. The child gives it to me.”

  “I’m promised to someone else,” Roddy cried, squirming uselessly.

  “Leo?”

  “Not Leo,” Ravan answered for his friend. “And not you, either.”

  Loethar knew his grip slackened momentarily. There were no others. What was the man talking about? Roddy had gone limp in his grip. He looked pale.

  “Loethar, may we please be seated and talk?” Ravan asked, his tone reasonable and polite though his worried glances at his friend suggested he felt otherwise.

  Loethar began to shake his head but his nausea had intensified again. He didn’t know how long he could hold it off. “The boy stays with me,” he said, more to gather time for himself. He backed away. Roddy rallied and began to struggle again. “If you don’t stop squirming, I will kill your friend,” he murmured to Roddy, and the boy fell instantly still. Loethar continued to back away as Elka and Janus joined the man.

  “Sit!” he commanded. They did so. “You too,” he instructed Roddy but didn’t let go of his thin arm. “Remember my warning.”

  Everyone warily regarded the other.

  “Let’s start with you,” Loethar said, pointing at Ravan. He was struggling to master the dizziness and nausea but was proud of himself for doing this well. “How do you know me?”

  “And you know me, your majesty. I am Vyk.”

  “Vyk?” Loethar laughed. “I haven’t seen Vyk in a while but my last recollection is that he was a bird, not a man.”

  “Your majesty, I am Vyk. My real name is Ravan. The story of my change is long, if you would hear it.”

  Loethar stared at him. The man must be mad.

  Roddy coughed weakly, wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “It is true,” he croaked. “I was there. I watched him change from a raven to a man. Are you really the emperor?”

  “What?” Loethar said, turning, confused, to Roddy. “Yes, I am the emperor. So watch yourself.”

  Roddy’s eyes lit. “You’re scary, but not as scary as I thought. You’re not even as big as Ravan.” He frowned. “You look alike but he looks more like a king, doesn’t he?”

  Loethar nodded, despite the confusion. He kept staring at Ravan. “We do,” he replied, baffled by how right Roddy was. “And yes, I’m disappointed to say that he does look more kingly. How do I trust that you are Vyk?”

  “Because you trust no one but me. You whispered that often enough during our life together. You named me for your childhood friend, the one Stracker accidentally shot dead with an arrow. You told me Stracker wept over it but you never believed it to be an accident. You thought it was jealousy.”

  Loethar gave a low growl of frustration. No one but Vyk could know this. “How did this magic come about?”

  “It is a very long story, your majesty,” Ravan replied. “But I will gladly tell it to you. You do trust me, don’t you, highness?”

  Loethar hesitated. “Can you understand why I need your friend?”

  The man nodded. “Leo wanted him too. Gavriel de Vis let us go.”

  “Gavriel,” Elka whispered. “Why?”

  Ravan shook his head. “Because he recalls his noble roots. He retains his honor and felt what the young king planned to do contravened that honor.”

  Elka nodded unhappily. “Which is more than I can say for some,” she said sharply, her glance toward Loethar so cutting he could swear he would bleed from it.

  “Roddy, you said you were promised to another. Who are you promised to?” Loethar demanded.

  Roddy didn’t answer.

  Loethar turned to Ravan, and the two men stared at each other for what felt like a long and uncomfortable time. Loethar ignored everything but Ravan, the shock of him sitting here as a man, derived from a bird, very unnerving and yet somehow it all seemed curiously plausible. Vyk had always been unusual to the point that Loethar had thought of him in terms of another person, who could hear him, understand him, even if he couldn’t respond in similar fashion. “Whose magic turned you into a man?” he finally asked.

  “The magic of Sergius. The same person who has sent us on our new journey. Before you ask, Sergius is dead, killed by your enemy.”

  “Leonel?” Loethar sneered. “Leonel is—”

  “Not Leo, your majesty,” Ravan interrupted. “Your real enemy. Piven.”

  Loethar felt like he’d been punched in the belly. Piven? Piven was surely dead. “Piven, if he still lives, is an incapacitated youth. You believe he could be my enemy?”

  Ravan nodded. “He is. He plans to kill you.”

  “And Leo,” Roddy added, panting as though exhausted or dying, Loethar couldn’t tell which.

  He ignored Roddy for now and instead quickly explained for Elka and Janus’s benefit all that he knew about Piven. They asked no questions but he could see Elka was turning over the new information in her mind. She looked at Ravan.

  “Are you Loethar’s enemy in any shape or form?”

  “I am only his friend,” Ravan said. “I always have been.”

  “Where were you were headed?”

  “Into Lo’s Teeth.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t tell him!” Roddy exclaimed, rousing from his stupor, eyes wide with panic.

  Vyk levelled his gaze at Roddy and there was tenderness and love in it. “Roddy, I will always tell the truth. I have no reason to lie to Loethar.”

  “He is our enemy, surely?”

  Ravan shook his head. “Not ours. Yours, perhaps.”

  Loethar felt guilt fluttering on the edges of his mind. He looked at Elka, whose gaze was riveted on him. Her expression was hard, not angry; if anything she looked disappointed. For a reason he couldn’t explain to himself at that moment, her sorrow hurt more than any of his injuries. Shocking himself and all around him, he let go of Roddy.

  The boy rubbed his wrist, unsure.

  “I’m sorry,” Loethar said. He had not said those words many times in his life; in fact he couldn’t remember the last time he’d said them with such sincerity. He looked at Roddy fully now. “Forgive me, Roddy.”

  The boy gagged again but he had nothing left in his belly. He looked back, confused but also teary. “Am I free?”

  Loethar nodded. “Go to Ravan. Being this close to you is too hard.” He stood and walked away, this time so that he too could retch. How had Faris been able to resist Leo? It had to be that Leo had so little magic to respond to.

  He was relieved when they left him alone, especially Elka. He began walking. He didn’t know where to. Suddenly survival didn’t seem so important. Let Leonel trammel Faris. And then let both his half-brothers fight it out. He suddenly no longer cared.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Loethar had staggered well away from his companions and no longer had his bearings. That didn’t matter. At least the nausea was passing, although he would be lying if he didn’t admit he could still sense Roddy’s nearness, like a seductive lover beckoning to him.

  He would resist. He smiled inwardly. The barbarian tyrant—t
he monster—had surely surprised them all.

  Loethar started when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Elka had stolen up on him so silently it was frightening.

  “What can I do for you?” she said softly.

  He shook his head, annoyed that she could move so much faster than him but pleased he could say farewell. “You’ve done more than enough.” He paused. “And so have I. I’ve had ten good anni as emperor and I can genuinely take comfort that I have done as good a job—if not better—than Brennus in unifying the lands of the Set. Perhaps it’s time to let someone else take over.” He stepped onto an old tree stump, leaned on a branch and stared into the distance.

  “Am I hearing right?”

  He sighed with a small smile. “I know, sounds odd even to my ears but, Elka, I’m tired. And I think I’ve finally reached a level of disgust with myself that even I can no longer live with. I’ve spent those ten anni with a woman I loathed, a half-brother I had no respect or love for, a mother I was fond of but who constantly manipulated me and people who were, at best, confused by me. I was a Steppes warrior and yet I wasn’t. I’m weary of it all. To think I was about to sentence a child to the life of a living corpse . . . that would have truly been my worst act.”

  “Really?” she said, her tone sharp but not cutting.

  It won the desired effect. Loethar laughed sadly. “I’ve got a lot of ‘worst acts’ to answer for, I know.”

  “Not the least of which was the slaughter of Regor de Vis.”

  The shame pinched at his cheeks. “Yes, that was perhaps my darkest hour. I want to say I was a different man then but that wouldn’t be the truth. I was a younger man, perhaps too motivated by the smell of blood in my nostrils and the wrong people around me but I made my own decisions. I regret it and have done since the moment I swung the blade.”

  “You should share your regret with de Vis’s son.”

  He turned. “Will it make a difference?”

  She eyed him with a hard stare. “Do you want his forgiveness?”

  He shook his head. “No. Nor do I deserve it.”

  “So you give up?”

  He shrugged. “Elka, I’m your enemy, remember? You’re not meant to be acting as my conscience.”

  “And still I do.” She gave a soft sound of scorn. “What is it about you that makes me want so much more from you?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re such a mystery. I want to hate you and yet I find myself leaving Gavriel for you. You’re supposedly my enemy and yet I want to heal you. You kill hundreds of people, you slaughter kings, you have so much blood on your hands and then moments ago, when I can believe I am watching you at the height of your cruelty, you surprise me with tenderness and brilliance.” She gave a huffing sound filled with despair.

  He gave Elka a searching look, his mind rattled. The woman standing before him made him feel special in a way he had never felt before. Why did compassion or understanding mean so much more coming from her . . . and why did impressing her feel so rewarding? Without warning, without giving himself even a moment to weigh his action and judge potential repercussions, Loethar leaned forward and kissed Elka.

  It was a soft kiss, not exactly hesitant but certainly not swaggering. The sensation was entirely different to how it had felt when he kissed Valya—which had been rare. Bedding Valya was raw lust. There was never any feeling above the need to sate himself; kissing her was always a chore. But it felt unique to kiss Elka—he felt tenderness and affection and desire rather than a rutting lust. He wanted her forgiveness, her smile, her understanding.

  She didn’t pull away, which was encouraging. He risked deepening the kiss but only permitted himself the pleasure momentarily before he pulled away, anticipating a slap or a rebuke.

  Her expression was unfathomable. He waited for her to speak.

  “I guess that tree stump was handily positioned,” she remarked.

  Loethar looked down, then back up to her face and exploded into delighted laughter. “I never was the tallest among men but how embarrassing . . . but then I guess you must be used to towering above your men?”

  She was grinning at him. Her smile faltered. “Not with Gavriel.” He waited, wondering if he’d just made a huge blunder. “We are not lovers, Loethar.”

  He said nothing immediately, then cleared his throat. “I think I should apologize for taking advantage of you.”

  “No,” she rushed to say. “Not at all.” Elka looked uncharacteristically flustered. “I . . . I’m just a bit surprised.”

  “That I found such a novel way to reach your lips, you mean?”

  She chuckled with delight. “That you wanted to reach my lips at all.”

  He grew serious. “Until that moment I wasn’t sure.”

  “So why did you?”

  “A moment of insanity.”

  “Ah,” she replied, turning away, but he caught the hurt in her eyes.

  “Elka, wait,” he said, reaching for her. “It was a moment of insanity. I know how you feel about de Vis and I took advantage of your compassion for me. But it felt like I was in the grip of a momentary madness. I had to kiss you or risk never knowing.”

  Her face softened. “Never knowing what?”

  “Whether you’d welcome it.”

  She touched his face. “I’m confused but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t glad you risked it. Thank you for freeing the boy.”

  He sighed. “I must leave.”

  “To where?”

  “I’m not sure. Perhaps in disguise I can make it to a port and then board a ship for somewhere far from here.”

  She looked suddenly anxious. “Don’t go.”

  “I can’t stay.”

  “So the whole idea of empire is suddenly cast aside?”

  He looked at her, aghast. “Forgive my surprise but weren’t you part of the conspiracy to overthrow my rule? Isn’t this what you want?”

  “I was part of nothing, other than helping Gavriel de Vis find his past. I didn’t really care who ruled Penraven or the new empire. It has little impact on my life in the mountains. I was dragged into this struggle but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I was on Gavriel’s side.”

  “And now?”

  He watched her chest rise and fall as she appeared to grapple with an internal battle of conscience. She shook her head. “Now I’m quietly confused. Your ability to rule is not in question here. The truth is you have done a lot for the former realms. The unification into empire, while brutal, has also given all the people of those lands a brighter future.”

  He sighed, noticing that she had sidestepped his question. “Let my family fight over the scraps. I am done.”

  She took him by his shoulders and he winced. “That’s a strong grip you have there, Elka.” She laughed and he was sorely tempted to kiss her again but the moment passed and she began talking again, desperate it seemed to push sense into him.

  “Now listen to me, Loethar, when I took you away it was for a raft of different reasons. These last days I’ve begun to see a whole new side to you. The very fact that you are Valisar convinces me that you have every right to fight for rulership—and perhaps, I’ve begun to accept, you are the rightful heir.”

  The rightful heir. “You stagger me.”

  “Listen, I’ve spent ten anni getting to know and love a man called Regor. Everything changed—he changed—when he discovered his past and that gave me pause. In defying him I have discovered that you are not the monster you are painted and although you have done things that chill me to the marrow of my bones, I can begin to see why you’ve been driven to such lengths.”

  “You want me to fight for the crown.”

  Elka looked up to the sky. When she returned her gaze to him it was unwavering. “Slinking away to ultimately vanish is not the answer. You have a duty to your people—all your people—to protect them from whatever is coming. If Leo and his brother are going to slug it out for sovereign right, you shoul
d do all in your power to keep everyone—Steppes or Denovian—safe from the wrath of kings.”

  “The wrath of kings,” he repeated quietly. Then he sighed.

  “Do you really no longer want to rule?” she asked pointedly.

  “Elka, I had everything as emperor, or at least I thought I did. The truth is I had an empty existence. People were scared of me and I was surrounded by either sycophants or traitors. Love has never been in my life. I can count my friends on two fingers, and of those the one I genuinely admired was working behind my back to bring me down; the other, it now turns out, was a magical bird. The only person I can count on is you . . . and I’m your prisoner, not a friend, and we barely know each other.” She raised an eyebrow but he didn’t pause. “So, no, ruling hasn’t satisfied me. I am more bored, more at odds with myself than ever. I thought killing Brennus and humbling the Set would reward my years of isolation and despair but it has made me feel more empty than I thought possible.”

  “So disappearing is the answer?”

  “Only if I want to live. Leonel can—”

  “Leo has no vision, Loethar, and you know it. He is a boy and his motivation is based on pure hate and revenge.”

  “So was mine.”

  “No. If I understand you correctly, your motivation was your right to rule. You are the true heir; you always were. Neither Leo nor Piven is fit to rule. You are! And Stracker needs to be stopped. You can stop him.”

  He stared at her with a searing gaze. “You want me to take responsibility for all the claimants, is that what you’re saying?”

  “Yes, that’s precisely what I would want from you. You set this chain of events in motion. You made war on Denova. And you’ve unleashed Piven in his madness and Leo on a narrow-minded trail of revenge and Stracker’s sudden elevation from tattoed brute to a pretender for emperor. This is your mess, Loethar.”

  “But you have taken away my own means to clean it up.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You would use a child?”

  “I didn’t—but it would be for the greater good, Elka.” He ran his bandaged hand through his hair. “What do you want from me?”