King’s Wrath

by Fiona McIntosh

  She watched Kilt turn and glance at de Vis with a look that spoke of pain. De Vis ground his jaw.

  “There is no time! Was it truly Leo’s invalid adopted brother?” Kilt asked.

  She sighed, realizing there was not going to be a peaceful soak in a tub of warmed water, no much needed meal or quiet reflection.

  “It was Piven. He is no invalid. His faculties are intact; in fact, he is frighteningly intelligent and eloquent. What’s more, Piven is all Valisar. His adoption was a ruse by King Brennus that even the queen was part of.” She enjoyed watching Corbel de Vis’s face drain of its color, watched him struggle to find any words.

  “There’s more,” she continued. “Piven has found an aegis.”

  She heard them groan as one, Kilt sucking in air as though struck, but he didn’t look surprised.

  “We wondered as much. But he knew to trammel the aegis?” he asked.

  “He appears to know everything there is to know about the Valisar magic. He is very powerful in it.”

  “How do you know?” de Vis demanded.

  “Because I was there! Because Piven took a fancy to me and prevented Stracker murdering me as he hacked my husband to bits.”

  She choked back a sob. “And because I spoke with the aegis. He was the one who helped me to escape.”

  “Spoke to him?” Kilt said, frowning. “Why would he speak with you or help you?”

  “Because the aegis is my father!” she hurled back, her glare defying them to deny it.

  She was met with a stunned silence.

  It was Jewd who came to her rescue. “Come on, Lily. You look exhausted. I hate to tell you but there’s more danger coming.”

  “What?”

  He nodded. “Loethar’s on his way down to the convent.”

  She stared back, uncomprehending. “Why?”

  “None of us know. But we don’t plan on giving him much of a chance to discuss it.” Jewd flexed the string of his bow. “Once he’s in range, which is any moment, he’s down.”

  “No killing,” Kilt warned.

  “How come?” she asked.

  Again there was that slight hesitation. “Because we can handle Loethar.”

  She shook her head in amazement. “I can’t be bothered with any of you at the moment, with your double-speak and what you’re not saying. Get out of my way, de Vis. I can’t say you’ve grown on me as your brother did so quickly,” she sneered at him. “But welcome back from wherever the hell you’ve been hiding.”

  De Vis scowled at her but, at a shake of the head from Kilt, didn’t respond. Lily stomped down the hall, running into a group of nuns waiting worriedly.

  One of them, clearly senior, held out her hands. “I’m sorry you meet us under these difficult circumstances. I am the Abbess here, but clearly you know the gentlemen who seem to be overrunning our convent?” She said it so kindly Lily wanted to weep.

  “Hello, Mother. Thank you for letting me in.”

  “My dear, wild horses wouldn’t have stopped the big man, Jewd, when he heard your name.”

  “Strange isn’t it?” Lily said, tiredly. “The man I was to marry greets me so formally and with such distance. Meanwhile his best friend hugs me as though we are long lost lovers.”

  The Abbess smiled. “This is the strange way of the world, my dear. Jewd is, er . . . clearly fond of you. Come, you’d better meet the princess.”

  “Princess?” Lily repeated. “Which princess?”

  “The daughter of Brennus and Isadora,” the Mother replied, shocking Lily once again.

  “Tell her, or I will,” Jewd said to Kilt, an edge to his voice that brooked no argument. “Loethar’s your excuse, bless his savagely good timing. So you can make it quick. I’ll keep an eye on things here. They’ve slowed down because it’s so steep. He’ll be in my sight the whole way.”

  Kilt nodded, knew there was no way out of this. And Jewd was right. It had to be done now. He followed after Lily, past the few chittering nuns who had ventured out of the rooms they and the Mother had suggested they confine themselves too. “Sisters,” he said politely, walking on. He could see the Mother ahead, walking alongside Lily, and he could only imagine what was being discussed. He put a jog into his step and caught up.

  “Excuse me, Mother. Might I steal Lily from you? It will only take a moment or two,” he said.

  “You see, Mother. That’s just how much my absence and near death meant to him,” Lily said archly. She clearly meant it as a joke for the Abbess but it was parched and scorching and full of fiery intent for Kilt.

  “Of course.” The Abbess looked at Kilt. “If you are sure about . . . ?”

  “Jewd is watching Loethar’s approach. You have nothing to fear. There will be no bloodshed in your convent, Mother.”

  “Or outside, Kilt Faris.”

  “I can’t promise that, Mother,” he said, firmly but amiably. “But I will do my best.”

  “I happen to like Loethar but this is your argument. Do not involve my convent in your troubles,” she warned. “My dear,” she said, turning to Lily. “This is not our usual hospitality toward women travelers.”

  Lily smiled sadly. “Thank you, Mother.” She shrugged, palms open to Kilt. “Where would you like to go?”

  He took her hand and led her to a quiet nook in one of the courtyards not far from where he and Barro had bathed. He sat her down at a stone bench and they both remained still and quiet for what felt like an interminable time.

  “Tell me about Kirin Felt,” he said. “The . . . er, the short version. In fact, I guess what I really want to know is, did you love him?”

  She looked down at her hands. “I still do. I’m amazed at my depth of feeling for him and I’m ashamed that I could ever have believed you and I were for eternity.”

  He nodded. “Then I am truly sorry for his loss.”

  “Is that all you have to say?”

  “I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

  “Perhaps display some shock, even mild surprise that I could be in love with another man.”

  “Yes, you’re right, I should. But you have been candid and I should be too.”

  His gaze flashed up. “What surprise have you got for me now?”

  “Firstly you should know I feel an intense relief that you found love elsewhere.” It came out all wrong; he watched her eyes instantly fill with tears. “Oh, Lily, that sounds cruel but actually what I mean to say is that I was very bad for you. You deserved so much better than I was giving, than I was perhaps ever capable of giving you.”

  “Did you really ever try?”

  “I thought I was in love but . . .”

  “Don’t. I think I know what you’re trying to say.”

  “No, I don’t think you do.”

  Her face grew grave and she sniffed away her tears. “What’s wrong, Kilt?”

  “I’m an aegis,” he blurted out.

  He could see that she wasn’t shocked.

  “I’m sorry,” he added. “I know this must be hard to hear after Kirin, and the revelation about your father whom I know you loved dearly.”

  “An aegis?” she whispered. He nodded.

  “I’ve been running from the truth all of my life.”

  Her expression clouded. “So why are you admitting it to yourself, to me, to the world now?”

  He swallowed. “Because I have met and been trammeled by a Valisar.”

  She gave a soft shriek of despair and then she grabbed for his hands, patting his arms, clearly looking for his wound.

  “There is no injury,” he said quietly but she took scant notice of him.

  “Why? How?” she demanded, an edge of hysteria to her voice.

  He took both her hands. “Lily, stop!” Her eyes, which were scanning his body, obeyed, coming to meet his. “Just stop. It required no wound.”

  “Which Valisar? Leo?”

  He gave a sound of soft scorn. “No, but Leo would not have hesitated to chop my leg off. In your absence he changed, Lil
y. He murdered Freath, wanted to kill Loethar, would definitely have used me in the worst way.”

  “I leave you alone for a few days and look what happens,” she said, trying so hard for the levity they could often share.

  “Yes, indeed, you rush off and marry the first man you come across, fall in love with him, nearly get executed—”

  She put her hand over his mouth. “Hush, Kilt. Don’t. I can’t bear for us to make light of it.”

  “I’m sorry. This is going to be a shock for you but the Valisar is Genevieve . . . the princess who apparently didn’t die. Another of Brennus’s cunning plots.”

  Dawning erupted across her face. “The Mother mentioned her. But she’d be . . . what? . . . ten anni or something. How could she possibly overwhelm you if you could resist Leo and . . .” Her voice trailed off as she searched his eyes. “She didn’t overwhelm you, did she?”

  He shook his head. “She desperately tried to let me escape.”

  “But you stayed. You let her trammel you. Why, Kilt?” she begged, hammering her fists into his chest with wretched despair. “Why?” she cried.

  “Kilt?” came a voice.

  And they both looked up. Kilt wasn’t sure who was more surprised, Lily or Genevieve.

  “Ah, your majesty. This is Lily. Lily, this is the Princess Genevieve.”

  Lily looked dumbfounded. She glanced at Kilt and then back to the beautiful young woman who stood before her. She swallowed hard. “You’re meant to be ten. But then again, you’re also meant to be dead.”

  Genevieve nodded. “What a long story I have to tell my children,” she said, but there was no mirth in her voice. “Hello, Lily. Kilt has told me all about you.”

  Lily seemed to find her wits and actually curtseyed. “Your highness.”

  “Please don’t. Call me Evie,” she said but Lily was already turning to fix Kilt with a stare.

  “You don’t have to explain anything more, Kilt. I think I understand.”

  “I want to, I should and I owe you that explanation in length but Loethar is here and that is a problem that won’t wait. And Jewd insists you know it all, so here it is, Lily.”

  Evie blanched. “Shall I—?”

  “No,” Kilt insisted. “You should stick close now.” He returned his gaze to Lily. “I was trammeled today by Genevieve when we laid down together and she consumed a part of me that required no bloodshed, no wound, only my love.”

  The honesty hurt deeply. He watched it sink into her other wounds as though his words were salt being sprinkled onto them. He watched her catch her breath and her breathing change.

  “I have no choice but to belong to Genevieve now . . . but I must add, as we are being honest, that even if I had the choice I would want it no other way.”

  “Please don’t say any more,” Lily asked, her voice quivering. “I think . . . I must leave now. Forgive me.” She stood abruptly and ran from the room.

  “Kilt, how could you do that? It was so harsh.”

  “Blame Jewd. Frankly, I wouldn’t have said a thing. Lily was in love and struggling to work out how best to tell me. She was in enough despair over her losses to just add me to the list.”

  “It’s Jewd’s way of making you pay for deserting him, I think.”

  “I haven’t,” Kilt bleated.

  “It’s how it feels to him. He won’t forgive easily what you’ve done for me and what’s happened between us. You and he have been a close duo for most of your lives.” She shrugged.

  “Well, we’ve got much bigger problems now. Come on, your majesty. Affairs of the heart and even the grudges of lifelong friends must wait.”

  Chapter Thirty

  The four men men and Evie were on the roof, watching Loethar approach.

  “How did it go?” Jewd murmured.

  Kilt’s expression said enough. “I’ve told the women to remain behind doors.”

  “Then why bring Evie—” Corbel began, scowling.

  “I need her magic here so I can shield us all . . . as best I can.”

  “Is that him?” Evie said quietly.

  Corbel nodded. “That’s your Uncle Loethar, barbarian warlord and self-proclaimed emperor, the man who butchered your father, pushed your mother into suicide and has been hunting Valisars ever since.”

  “He looks rather handsome,” she remarked and won a stare of disdain from all of them. “And the tall woman?”

  “Elka,” Jewd breathed. “Very impressive. Davarigon. A race of near giant people who keep themselves to themselves in these mountains behind us.”

  “And the others?” she wondered.

  Kilt raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know the other trio but Corbel by now you should have recognized—”

  “Gavriel,” Corbel breathed. And then before anyone could stop him, he was on his feet, no longer hidden, yelling. “Gavriel!”

  They watched in horror as the people approaching down the hill froze. Loethar took two steps forward. He was close enough now for them to see his smile.

  “Kilt Faris! I see you.”

  Kilt felt the first vague tendrils of magic waft around him like perfume. “Take him, Jewd,” he snarled.

  “With pleasure,” Jewd replied. He stood and in a blink had taken his aim and let fly with an arrow that hurtled toward its mark in the middle of Loethar’s chest.

  “No!” Evie yelled.

  They watched the arrow appear to strike its target but then it fell away uselessly to the ground. Loethar bent, picked it up and made a show of snapping it. Without saying anything else he hurried his group down the hills.

  But Gavriel refused to move. He was just opening his mouth to yell something back when Kilt saw the Davarigon giant grab him and yell something in his face. Then meekly he followed, running along.

  “He’s got an aegis,” Kilt growled.

  “How?” Jewd thought aloud. “It’s only been days.”

  “Well, you watched the aegis magic in action. There’s no point in trying to finish Loethar now.”

  “Don’t you think he would have taunted you if he really is this hideous tyrant you keep referring to?” Evie demanded. Kilt knew she was angry at him for breaking his promise to the Abbess.

  Barro spoke up. “There is no way, if he’s protected magically, he wouldn’t have rubbed it in our faces. He’s emperor; he would have wanted to reinforce that.”

  “Is that truly my brother?” Corbel said, wonder on his face, seemingly unconcerned by Loethar.

  “That is certainly Gavriel de Vis,” Kilt confirmed. “But something else is going on here, and I don’t know what.”

  “Perhaps my uncle wants to talk?” Evie offered.

  “To who? Me? He didn’t know I was even here. You heard the surprise in his voice. No,” Kilt said, frowning. “He’s here for an entirely different reason. I think, Corbel, you could be right. Perhaps he’s here for Valya.”

  Barro shrugged. “So what do we do?”

  “Let him in.”

  “No!” Jewd growled.

  “He can’t hurt me, Jewd. In fact, his aegis and I cancel each other out. He will protect his people and I will protect mine. If it makes you feel any easier, you can train your arrows on whomever you wish in his party. None of them, other than Gavriel or the woman, look in any way dangerous. There’s a lad in tow, for Lo’s sake. But let’s hear what he’s got to say.”

  They clambered down from the low, flat roof. Everyone opted to wait in the courtyard, including Lily, who had stolen out to join them but stood well back as though she no longer felt part of Kilt’s group. Jewd had his bowstring pulled taut, an arrow loaded and aimed on the gate, while Barro had his sword drawn.

  Only Corbel refused to be still. Against their angry protests he had slammed open the gate and was running toward the newcomers.

  “Gavriel!”

  Gavriel de Vis’s gaze locked onto the familiar figure. The man running toward him looked like his brother but surely this couldn’t be him? “Corb?”

  And he was
dragged into the stranger’s arms. “Yes, it’s me. Don’t be alarmed, brother.”

  Gavriel pushed back from the man, astonished; he could barely speak. “What . . . ? What’s happened to you?”

  “No time,” Loethar said. “Greetings, de Vis,” he said to Corbel, “but the family reunion must wait,” he warned, his gaze firmly fixed on the gate. “Please, de Vis. It’s not me I’m concerned for—but Elka, Janus . . . even you.”

  Gavriel hesitated and then grabbed his brother hard, fighting a swell of emotion. “We have to get inside, Corb. They’re coming.”

  “Who?”

  “Killers. Just move. Loethar’s right, we must wait for our reunion.”

  He stepped back and looked at Corbel, entirely perplexed.

  Corbel understood. “I have much to tell you, Gav, but I’m glad to see that I remain the good-looking one.”

  Gavriel actually scoffed as Loethar bundled them all through the gates and into the fragile safety of the compound.

  At first everyone regarded each other in an awkward silence. It was Kilt who broke it at last.

  “Well, well . . . look what the wind has blown in.”

  “Faris, you’re looking at ease. Fortunate, isn’t it, that I have my aegis so you need not sicken around me?”

  “The stench of the blood staining your soul is enough to do that. Which one of you disloyal bastards lent your magic to the tyrant?”

  “Me, sir,” the lad admitted. “I am his aegis.”

  “A child? You trammeled a child?” Kilt hurled at him. “You truly are the lowest of the low.”

  “Faris, the boy gave his magic willingly,” Gavriel said, already looking weary of the tension.

  “What is your name?” Kilt said to him.

  “Roddy.”

  “Why, Roddy?”

  “I trust him. He is not all bad. And he tried to stop me from giving him my magic.”

  “So, Faris, you seem entirely untroubled by our presence which suggests you are not frightened of death,” Loethar remarked.

  “I would never have turned outlaw if I was frightened of death. Let’s just say I am not frightened of you.”

  “So if I raised my sword?”

  “I would shoot your Davarigon escort,” Jewd answered casually.