Lo, forgive me, he asked his god, as he withdrew the dagger and Valya’s lifeblood began pumping out over his hands, soaking his new shirt and leaking her life into the rushes on the floor.
And above it all, he realized a baby was wailing.
Corbel found himself absorbed into a womb of darkness.
Aha, I wondered when you’d turn up, said a voice into his mind.
He paused, startled, a pit opening in his stomach as the magic surrounded him.
And I was under the impression you de Vis boys feared nothing, the voice teased.
Qirin? he asked into the void, tentatively reaching out to touch that magic.
Who else did you expect? Aludane?
He laughed nervously, then caught himself. I . . . I didn’t really know what to expect.
And now you sound like your brother. Easy to tell you’re twins, you even tiptoe in here alike. However, he thought I could hear. At least you shifted easily to mindspeak. I’m impressed.
The hairs on the back of his neck rose at the mention of his brother. You have seen Gavriel? he asked anxiously, the mere mention of his own family like a touchstone to his heart.
I spoke too soon about you. You are tarred with the same brush. Of course I haven’t seen him. I’m blind!
He stammered his apology. I meant—
I know what you meant. But I enjoy making people squirm, especially young men. What other sport is there for a decrepit, blind old woman?
He held his breath, unsure of how to answer.
And now you’ve lost your tongue. Not used to being spoken to so rudely eh?
May I start again, Qirin?
She chuckled in his mind. Well, if you’re his twin then you’re as handsome as Gavriel de Vis. And I don’t get enough men here to flirt with.
He tried a different approach. Would you like me to tell you that you are beautiful?
Now she laughed. Yes, I would, though I suspect you lie, especially as you cannot see in this gloomy world I live in.
Corbel knew he surprised her when he used his senses to guide himself to where she sat. He reached for her, careful to find her hand, and he took it. I meant that you are beautiful inside. I do not know you, Qirin, but I’m sure you were very kind to my brother. Won’t you tell me about him? Like you I have been deafened and blinded to the world I love for years. To know my brother is alive would be a great comfort.
What do I get in return?
Name your price.
He felt her amusement touch his mind.
Let me touch you. She felt for his face. Ah, yes, newly shaven. And your hair is damp, so newly bathed too. Thank you. I appreciate a clean man.
He laughed. Were you always locked away in your mind?
Not always, she whispered and she sounded momentarily forlorn. And I have known the love of a man. It is enough.
He didn’t pry. How can I pay you, Qirin?
You are a good man with a good heart and a ferocious loyalty. I like this about you. I liked it in your brother too. I will tell you about him.
And then she started to speak.
Corbel held his breath throughout the telling. Only when she had finished did he let it out; it came as a sigh. He was thrilled that Gavriel had mentioned to the Qirin that Leo had survived the barbarian invasion but he was distressed to hear of his brother’s loss of memory—ten anni of not knowing who he was.
You are sad, she said.
He was here so recently. It has been . . . He couldn’t finish.
Too long, she said gently into his mind. Where you have been time passes quickly, Corbel de Vis. You have the lines on your face of a man older than his twin.
He nodded. I know.
How can you if you have not seen your brother?
He trusted you to tell you about the young prince. I know I am older than I should be because I was charged to take care of the prince’s baby sister. She was born twelve years after her brother but while she should be just ten, she is now twenty anni.
She said nothing for a long time. He waited out her silence.
You sons of Regor de Vis have had weighty burdens placed on your young shoulders. Your own lives have been been forfeit while you have carried out your roles.
They are our duty to our king.
Who is long dead.
To the new sovereign, King Leonel, he corrected.
Who does not sit the throne.
We will put him there, he countered.
He felt her hesitate in his mind, as though changing her own. You came here to ask me questions. What do you wish answered?
You have told me my brother is alive. Do you know where he is?
He is not far away. Now that I have touched Gavriel’s mind, I can reach out and feel his presence.
Where is he, Qirin? Corbel squeezed her gnarled hands in a mix of anxiety and excitement.
Once again she paused. He felt the ripple of magic in his mind but could neither touch it nor understand it. Then she chuckled again.
What is amusing?
I’m not sure you will want to hear what I have to tell you.
Tell me, please. Is Gavriel injured or—
He is physically sound but he is troubled. She sighed. But then you brothers have been troubled for many anni. You are used to it.
What of him, then? Where is he?
He is with another whose mind I have touched.
The girl, Elka?
No. Curiously I have never met her even though she has been here several times.
Who then? Who is Gavriel with?
He is with Emperor Loethar.
Corbel felt as though all the wind had been punched from him. He heard himself gasp with the shock of her words. Gavriel and Loethar? Impossible.
Before he could press her for more information there was an urgent banging on the door.
That sounds like trouble, the Qirin prodded. No one bangs like that for me. It must be for you.
His eyes had become more accustomed to the dark by now and Corbel realized a small opening cut into the stone at the top of her dwelling not only acted as an air vent but permitted a tiny amount of daylight to seep into the chamber. Though it hardly counted as light it nevertheless helped him find his way to the door without groping. He opened it roughly, desperate to return to the mindlink with the Qirin. “Yes?”
A young nun stood before him. “The Mother has sent me, sir. Forgive the interruption but your companion Evie is—”
He pulled the door wider. “What? Where is she?” he demanded, looking around, noticing that she wasn’t there and suddenly feeling fearful. He just stopped short of shaking the stammering nun.
“She is drugged and the empress is dead, killed by your male companion.”
“What?” he whispered.
If only drugged then I’m sure the princess will survive, Corbel. Fret not. But you’d better go to her now. I know you had more questions and I suspect they are concerned with that aching heart of yours. The answer to your second question is yes, with all of her heart but not in the way you hope. She is destined for another.
With a pain like a knife in his chest, Corbel ran out of the door, away from the Qirin’s tellings, away from the reality of something he had known for much too long already.
Chapter Twenty-One
Elka knew that lovely voice. “Gavriel!” she exclaimed as she swung around, instinctively stepping in front of Loethar to protect him.
“Step away from him, Elka,” Gavriel warned.
She felt Loethar’s hands on each of her arms. “Yes, my love, step away from me,” he said gently, pushing her aside. Elka hardly heard his words, so angered was she by Gavriel’s violent stance and order.
“Get your filthy barbarian hands off her,” Gavriel warned.
“Or what, de Vis?” Loethar baited.
“Or I’ll kill you where you stand.”
“Gavriel,” Elka began but his sharp, angry words cut her.
“You be quiet. You betrayed me.”
Before she could respond, Loethar replied, “In more ways than you can imagine.” Elka glared at him but his attention was focused on Gavriel. “Well, what’s stopping you? Strike me down. I’m unarmed and you’re much bigger, stronger than me. It’s what you’ve wanted for years, surely. Here’s your best excuse, de Vis . . . my permission.”
“I don’t need it.”
“Stop this!” Elka said, stepping between them. “I did not betray you when I left, Gavriel. What you and Leo were about to do was unforgivable. But that aside, this man was our prisoner. He deserved fair treatment and he certainly wasn’t going to get it from your exiled, out-of-control king.”
“Really? Fair treatment? Like he treated my father, or King Brennus, or the queen, or all the royals of the Set? Ask him about the children he murdered in cold blood, killing boys of Leo’s age in order to hunt him down one by one. Ask him—”
“You know something, de Vis? I’m getting very tired of that repetitive accusation. I was responsible for all of those deaths, yes. It was war and if you had worn my boots you might know what it was like to walk in them, be a Valisar, be treated like scum by the great Brennus you admire so much but who plays as dark and far dirtier than I ever would, perhaps ever could. I might not have behaved fairly in your estimation, de Vis, but you’re choosing to ignore that I live by the same code of honor that you do. I’ll say it again: I regret the death of your father deeply. He was an honorable man. Brennus cared not so much for his family as his family name. He would kill just as easily as I, except the man I killed would know who wielded the sword and why I sought his death . . . and I would face him, meet his eyes. That same man would not even see Brennus coming. Your king would lurk in the shadows and use someone else’s hand to wield the killing blow . . .”
Elka watched Gavriel blink angrily. Something Loethar had said had resonated but she couldn’t be sure which part.
“Do you think that speech excuses you?”
“Not at all. Killing your father in the manner I did was honest but it was shameful. I live unhappily with that shame. And for that alone you have a right to try and exact my life. But you’ve had chances before and not taken them, and I suspect you won’t take the chance now either. So stop bleating.”
“How do you know what I will do?” Gavriel demanded.
“Then surprise me, de Vis, and make good on your threat,” Loethar said, sounding weary of him.
“Listen to me,” Elka urged. “I had to leave with him to prevent you making a mistake, clouded by your devotion to Leo. And I was right to get Loethar away because I knew you would follow the Valisar before you followed good sense.”
Gavriel turned a look of pure scorn at her. “As you did!”
It broke her heart to see him this distraught. He looked exhausted. He must have run across country for miles, for hours without sleep or sustenance. “So you came all this way to cut Loethar down?”
“I came for you, Elka,” he said and it sounded like an accusation. “I thought he might have taken advantage of you.”
Elka’s cheeks burned with the memory of Loethar’s kiss and how she had wanted it, welcomed it, not wanted it to stop. After believing herself in love with Gavriel for so many anni, how had she swapped her allegiance in a heartbeat for Gavriel’s sworn enemy? How could she look at Loethar and feel so protective, so committed to him? Now that she was faced with Gavriel she did feel like a traitor and her heart hurt for him.
“I did what was right,” she tried. “And he has stuck to my rules. Did you trammel Faris?”
He shook his head. “He escaped.”
“But you would have,” she persisted.
The fight seemed to desert him. “At that moment, yes, I would have.”
She frowned. “But not now?”
“Now I’m just confused, Elka. The king I have devoted my life to protecting has told me he will kill me the next time he lays eyes on me. The man I swore I would kill next time I lay eyes on him is not only urging me to do just that but damn it, Elka you’re on his side!”
She took a step forward. Yes, she definitely knew him too well. He was holding something back, not yet ready to share. “No one’s taking sides, Gavriel. I know you put your lot in with Leo but you’ve also searched your conscience and come up wanting. Leo isn’t the man you hoped he’d be. He doesn’t hold to the same sense of duty as you. For Leo, it’s rule at any cost. For you, it’s about honor. I know you better than anyone.”
“Then why I am here?” he asked, suddenly aware of the others. “Ravan . . . Roddy, you’re here too?” he said, his voice small and shocked.
“Er, I’m Physic Janus, if you’re interested.” Elka held her breath; knew the poor man would fight his affliction as best he could. “And I’d like to . . .”
“Janus is a friend and has helped us,” Elka cut in. Janus gave her a look of gratitude and she smiled back sadly at the damaged man.
Gavriel nodded at Janus before returning his injured expression to her, awaiting his answer.
Elka took a deep breath. “You are here because you know I did the right thing. You have discovered perhaps that the Valisars—including Loethar until recently—all suffer the same delusion: that the crown belongs to them . . . that they have a right to simply take it. They are happy to allow the rest of us to be pawns in their squabbles. You have to decide, as I have, as all of us have, which is best suited to rule, most deserving of your support.”
“Loethar has earned that right in your estimation?”
She shrugged. “Loethar doesn’t even want the crown any more.”
Gavriel shot him an angry glance. “What?”
Loethar nodded. “It’s true. But I don’t need Elka to speak for me. Sit with me, de Vis. Let’s talk.”
“Talk?” Gavriel repeated as though Loethar was mad. “You want me to parley with you, as you parleyed with my father? Perhaps you’ll split me in two just for some entertainment for your followers.”
Everyone sighed, including Roddy.
“Here we go again, de Vis. Your father is dead, man! Dead. He understood war. He took his chances with Brennus and he paid the price for being your cunning king’s stooge. Sooner or—”
Loethar didn’t get any further. Gavriel was upon him at such speed that Loethar, mid-sentence and glancing toward Elka, barely had time to blink.
“Roddy!” she screamed.
In spite of his limp, shockingly fleet for his height, Gavriel demonstrated why he had been the most celebrated of King Brennus’s up and coming brood of young warriors. And as sharp and agile as Loethar was, he was older and could never be as fast as the young, strong de Vis who was upon him, his primeval roar of rage driving the force of his sword’s killing blow, both feet off the ground as he swept the long blade in a mighty horizontal arc.
Its aim was true. It should have hacked Loethar’s head from his shoulders and sent it flying into the undergrowth. He should have watched the arrogant Valisar bastard’s body crumple to its knees before the headless corpse accepted defeat and slumped at his boots.
All of that should have happened.
Instead he stared at his sword as it stopped a finger-width from Loethar’s neck. It struck what felt like a cushion of air and then slid gently away. He couldn’t believe it. Again and again Gavriel raised the sword, hacking uselessly at Loethar, never getting closer than the elusive finger-width.
He refused to accept what was happening, never actually allowed the notion that magic was at work; he just kept striking pointlessly until he found himself spent and on his knees, a deep sob escaping him. He was the one staring at boots. He was the one whose body was accepting defeat.
Into the tight silence he let out an animal-like howl of despair, and it was Loethar—of all people—the man he hated most in the world, who bent down and offered comfort.
“I’m sorry, de Vis,” was all he said but it was said so tenderly and he heard such deep sincerity in the man’s softly spoken words that he didn’t need any more words to b
e spoken. He understood that Loethar’s apology referred not just to the death of his father but to the loss of a brother, the loss of his memory, the disillusionment of his newly found king and the humiliation here today before Elka, now weeping herself.
He angrily hauled himself to his feet, pushed away the helping hands—especially Elka’s—and stepped back. He sniffed, wiped his face with his sleeve and refused to shed another tear. He swallowed hard and took a moment in the horribly awkward quiet to gather up his bared emotions and put them away.
With his jaw grinding he looked at the thin, elfin form of Roddy.
“So you lied. You are an aegis? I defied my friend—my king—and earned his wrath and enmity to win your freedom from this imprisonment.”
Roddy looked deeply guilty. “Ravan trusts him,” he said softly, glancing toward Loethar.
Gavriel’s gaze did not waver from the boy. “Ravan was his pet bird. Ravan doesn’t exist other than through magic! He’s not real.”
Roddy reached for Ravan’s hand. “He feels real enough to me and that’s all that matters. Ravan doesn’t scare me like everyone else does because Ravan isn’t doing anything for himself. He is fair to everyone. I trust him and he trusts Loethar.”
“But why, Roddy? Why do any of you trust Loethar?”
The lad sighed. “He doesn’t want the crown but he doesn’t think Leo or Piven should take it either.”
“Neither are fit to rule,” Elka said quietly.
“What would a Davarigon know?” Gavriel hurled at her. “Especially one who aligns herself with a tribal barbarian with a bastard claim to the throne.”
Elka flinched as though struck.
Ravan took a step forward, his expression dark and foreboding. “I’m afraid you are wrong there,” he said and in that moment, as he stood alongside and much taller than Loethar, Gavriel was aware of how similar in features the pair looked. “I can assure you that the unethical claim always belonged to Brennus.”
Gavriel stared at the man made of magic, uncomprehending.
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