King’s Wrath

by Fiona McIntosh

  Everyone listening winced, Perl especially.

  “So your brother is here for Loethar as well?” Marth queried.

  “Your guess is as good as mine, general, but as he and Stracker are traveling together, it would seem they have thrown their lot in together.”

  “If Piven has his aegis then he has probably claimed the crown,” Perl commented. “Making your claim useless.”

  Leo rounded on her. “The crown is mine. I am the rightful heir,” he hurled at her.

  She shrugged, entirely unfazed by his attack. “Well, he can’t be killed, you know that.”

  Leo ground his jaw. “We don’t know anything. Until a few hours ago we didn’t know that the Vested magic could be put together and channeled through one source. Until a few hours ago no one had heard of the Valisar Chalice. None of us really know what the magic is capable of.” He took a steadying breath. “We have to trust in what we’re attempting. And all of you have to believe in my claim to that throne.”

  “I do,” Reuth nodded.

  “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Marth followed.

  Perl shrugged. “All you Valisars are the same. What difference does it make and I have no choice anyway.”

  “It would be so much easier if you helped, Perl,” Reuth scolded, “instead of sulking. His majesty’s married you! You have an easy life ahead if you just help willingly.”

  Perl looked away as though disinterested in the conversation. Leo was already straightening, looking to Marth.

  “We’ll move forward now under the cover of the rocks. It’s a good thing everyone’s dressed so shabbily—that will help disguise us and aid our passage. We move in silence.” He pointed. “See that rise?”

  “I see it,” Marth replied.

  “There’s where everyone can remain. It’s high enough to have the vantage and if you warn everyone to remain low, they’ll be safe. I’m leaving you in charge, general. Perl and I can move to lower ground. I look forward to feeling my sword kill a hundred barbarians.” He glanced over at her. “You see, Perl, I’m not even expecting you to lift a finger. All you have to do is throw your shield around me.”

  She ignored him.

  He sighed, frustrated, and turned to Marth and Reuth. “Do you two understand?”

  They nodded.

  “Where is Narine?”

  “I’ll get her,” Reuth said, looking glad to have something to do.

  She returned as Leo was giving final instructions to Marth; they were shaking hands.

  “Good luck, general.”

  “I hope it works, majesty.”

  “We tested it to impressive results. Trellon’s idea has more than earned him his own Academy! Now I’m going to unleash his weapon.” He turned. “Narine,” he said, nodding at her. “Are you ready?”

  The stout, middle-aged woman with rounded features and rosy cheeks smiled self-consciously. “I’ve never actually had anyone encourage me to use my strange talent before. I was very surprised when Professor Trellon told me his idea.”

  Leo grinned. “And I can well understand why. But now, Narine, you have my royal permission to unleash that talent.”

  “Oh thank you, your highness,” she said, helpless glee in her tone. “Just say the word.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  All the women remaining behind had been pressed into wearing the robes of the nuns.

  “It’s for your protection,” Kilt insisted. “Frankly, I’m jealous!”

  “He’s right,” Loethar warned. “And let’s face it, he’s the master of disguise. I never caught him in all the years I hunted him and he tells me now he moved freely around the towns and villages of the north.”

  And so Lily and Evie found themselves joining Valya dressed as sisters of the convent.

  Everyone had gathered in the cloisters. No one had a plan, not even when they heard a loud banging on the gate.

  “Sisters! This is General Stracker. Open up.”

  “Well none of us men can open the door,” Jewd said. “It has to be one of the women.”

  Loethar frowned. “He knows Valya and Lily. It has to be Genevieve.”

  “Piven will sense her magic,” Kilt said in a tone that brooked no argument.

  “Don’t make me get my soldiers to pull your gate off its hinges!” Stracker roared.

  “Lily,” Kilt said, “don’t open the gate but can you hold him up while we think?”

  She nodded and ran forward.

  “Yes, general?” she said, disguising her voice.

  “We are seeking a woman we believe is taking refuge with you.”

  “We have several women staying with us. What is her name?”

  They heard Stracker say Lily Felt and Lily begin to give the general a very polite but nonetheless effective runaround.

  “So?” Kilt said, looking to Loethar. “Ideas?”

  “Come clean,” Gavriel suggested. “It’s not as though they can hurt Loethar or Genevieve. Kilt and Roddy can protect some of us; the rest could hide?”

  No one seemed particularly impressed by this.

  “I’d rather die swinging my sword,” Barro remarked.

  “I’ll go,” Valya suddenly said. She gave a cruel smile. “I’m not wanted here and my husband will be glad to see the back of me. Besides, they know I’m here and I want to join them. I can keep them occupied and buy you some time. I’ll get my things.”

  No one could argue with her logic. Kilt ran ahead to whisper the change of proceedings to Lily. Loethar could hear Lily changing tack with the frustrated general, telling him that the Empress Valya wished to speak with him while Lily Felt was being found. That had brought a silence; Loethar guessed Stracker was conferring with Piven.

  “You’re not really letting her go out there, are you?” Corbel asked. “It’s as good as signing her death warrant.”

  Loethar shrugged. “What choice do we have? She was given the opportunity to go with the nuns into safety. She is a grown woman. A former heir to Droste, an empress—fallen from grace, perhaps, but royal all the same. I respect her choice . . . flawed though it is.”

  “You really are a heartless bastard.”

  “Not entirely, de Vis, but I see you suffer from the same weaknesses as your twin when it comes to women. Be assured, Valya is not someone you should underestimate simply because of her sex. She is the equal of any man when it comes to cunning; it’s probably one of the reasons I found her vaguely interesting for a while.”

  Corbel scoffed. “No matter how much you impress upon us that you are Valisar, Loethar, your upbringing as a barbarian is showing through. We might all fight for the same side right now, but we are not the same.”

  “Ah. You believe the other Valisars have some claim on female honor? Consider carefully all that Brennus allowed to happen to the women of his household. Do you think he really held his wife and daughter in such high esteem? Consider Leo, whom your brother would have given his life to protect—do you think he won’t gladly kill his sister, or any woman who stands between him and what he believes is his throne? Don’t preach to me, de Vis, about being Valisar, or your misguided code of honor.” He looked away, showing his disdain.

  Gavriel joined in. “We have to protect the women, Loethar.”

  He turned in disbelief. “Both of you now. Listen to me. The princess needs no other protection than what she has. No spears or arrows can touch her. Neither can Piven. Lily and Valya chose to stay. They knew exactly the situation.”

  “So you’re just going to let your cur of a half-brother hack them to bits?” Gavriel snarled at him. “You don’t care. You despise Valya. Stracker would be doing you a favor if he cut her down, let’s be honest. And Lily just doesn’t matter . . . she’s expendable.”

  “What do you propose I do?” Loethar asked them.

  “Nothing, Loethar,” Corbel said, taking over from Gavriel. “I propose you do nothing, but I will.” He held Loethar’s gaze fiercely.

  Loethar looked down first. “As you
wish. What do you plan?”

  “I will escort Valya out if she insists on going,” Corbel said, watching her emerge from a chamber carrying a small bundle of belongings.

  “Corb—” Gavriel began but then stopped, pushed his hands deep into his pockets, torn between duty and fear. He felt the familiar seeds he’d carried all of these years. His tiny touchstones, as he liked to think of them, his only link to a former life. He jangled them now, out of habit, feeling the comforting rattle in his palm that had sustained him through many a night of despair. “No, you’re right. Father’s bones would turn where they lie if he knew we could send out a woman unescorted.”

  Kilt arrived. “Make a decision,” he whispered.

  “We have,” Corbel said.

  “Send the empress out!” Stracker shouted.

  “She is coming, general,” Lily replied, stealing a glance over her shoulder. “My apologies, though, we cannot let any of your soldiers in.”

  “I will choose if we come in, sister, not you.”

  Lily looked back at Loethar, who shook his head. Next to him, Corbel gave her a nod.

  “Er, general, here is the empress. She comes with an escort her husband sent with her. These are sanctified grounds, sir, not to be tainted with behavior that does not befit the convent.”

  “What of Lily Felt?” said a new voice, much younger. Loethar felt his heart jump. He knew it was Piven.

  Lily sprang back from the gate as if burned. “She . . . er, we have sent messengers to find her. Who is this, please?”

  “This is Piven talking to you, sister. But you may call me emperor.”

  Loethar’s eyes narrowed. He felt his arm squeezed.

  “Not yet,” Kilt warned in a hushed tone “We don’t know how this is going to play out. Keep your witchflame dry, as they say.”

  Loethar struggled but said no more. He watched as Valya very carefully walked to the gate where Corbel awaited, carrying her very modest bundle of belongings under her arm.

  “General Stracker?”

  “Yes?”

  “It is Valya. I have some important news to share with you—news that might change how you regard me.”

  Loethar scowled. Next to him, Gavriel held out his hand to Kilt. “Remember these?” he said wistfully. “I never did work out why you gave them to me.”

  Kilt looked down and then at Gavriel with an expression of pure wonder. He took one from Gavriel’s hand and handed it to Corbel. “Suck this.”

  “What? What is that?”

  “It’s magic. Just do it! Hurry.”

  Corbel took the seed, threw it in his mouth.

  “Suck hard. Like your life depends on it.”

  And Loethar watched in amazement as Corbel’s face began to droop. He became unrecognizable, his features twisting and sagging until it was the face of a much older man, unrecognizable as a de Vis. Loethar felt his mouth drop; he saw that Gavriel was wearing an expression of shock that must mirror his own.

  “What?” Corbel asked, looking at his twin.

  Gavriel turned and stared at Kilt. “Why didn’t you mention what those seeds could do?”

  “How did I know you’d still have them, de Vis? They’re not seeds but beads, given to me by a witch. She called them her ‘disguises.’ Here comes Valya. Good luck. Get back in here as quick as you can, de Vis. What you’re doing is lunacy . . . but honorable lunacy.”

  “I thought you looked old enough but this is impressive,” Gavriel said. “Just walk her out and step straight back, Corb. I’ve only just found you. I don’t want to lose you.”

  Corbel nodded. “Tell Evie—”

  “No, tell Evie yourself when you’re back,” Gavriel said, punching his shoulder. “I’m hoping we’ve thought up a plan by then.”

  “Right. Everyone ready?” Loethar murmured. “Faris, you know what to do. Genevieve, make yourself scarce; he can protect you over distance. Even if Valya tells Piven everything, we’re not going to make this easy for him. And remember, he can’t hurt you. Roddy, you know that you and Faris are throwing a ring of protection around everyone.”

  Roddy nodded, looked toward Kilt.

  “Just take my lead, Roddy. We’re few enough that if you take Loethar, Gavriel, Barro and Ravan, and I take Genevieve, Corbel, Jewd and Lily, I believe we can keep them safe,” Kilt assured. “Go, Genevieve.”

  “I might take Ravan with me,” she said. “He can tell you where I’m hiding.”

  “Good idea,” Kilt said. “Right, de Vis,” he hissed in a low voice. “Are you ready to escort out our not-so-esteemed empress?”

  Barro suddenly leaped forward. “Let me go too. I can’t stand waiting around and besides,” he said, nodding with a smile at Corbel, “I can watch his back.”

  No one seemed to mind. They all knew they were moving on instinct now; there were no signposts guiding their path.

  Evie and Corbel shared a glance that only Ravan saw and then he was hurrying her away.

  “Your majesty, I thought you could hide in the—”

  “No hiding. I want to see the Qirin as you suggested. What’s happening here is ridiculous. Aren’t I supposed to be the Valisar with all the power?”

  Ravan blinked.

  “Well, come on!” she demanded. “This farce of a legacy I’m supposed to wield. I haven’t come all this way back for nothing. But for the life of me I’ve no idea what I’m supposed to do. I have questions for her.”

  Ravan nodded. “The Mother showed me where the Qirin stays; I promised we would not forget her. Come, majesty.”

  They were much closer now and their own eyesight provided all the information they needed. The Vested were all well concealed behind the rise of foothills that formed a small crescent around one part of the convent. They were holding hands, each Vested linked to the other physically, which had helped intensify the channeling during the test.

  Among them sat Narine. Her power would be mixed with everyone else’s but it was her particular gift alone that Leo planned to magnify once the magic arrived. He could feel the excitement building within him; it reminded him of the natural hot springs in Galinsea his mother had told him about.

  It fizzes and bubbles against your skin, she’d told the young Leo as she’d tickled him, laughing at his shrieks of delight. That’s how his anticipation was for him now, fizzing and bubbling against the walls of his skin. He felt almost light-headed with expectation and the ache of inactivity before battle.

  “It’s the empress,” Marth hissed.

  Leo dragged himself back to the present and watched as, right enough, Valya emerged from the gate, flanked by two minders. Her simple robes could not disguise the face he had loathed with a deep-seated passion since he was twelve.

  “Well, well . . . it seems all my enemies are gathering in one place, general. Fate is conspiring to give me this opportunity to destroy them all in one fell swoop. Perl was right. My destiny is here.” He held a hand up. “I am the Chalice, general. Cyrena visited me. No one has seen the width and breadth of my power yet. In just a few minutes they will all cower before me. I will kill all the pretenders who lay claim to my throne and then we will begin again, general. You and I, our Vested, all our people from all over the empire will return to their realms and Penraven will rule again.”

  Marth said nothing but Leo caught his glance at Perl . . . and behind her. Looking back, he saw that Reuth had disobeyed his orders and had followed closely behind, instead of staying higher up and safe.

  “We’ll give them just a little longer, general. Let’s see what erupts before we unleash the Chalice of power on them. Reuth, you need to return to the group. It’s not safe for you down here.”

  “Yes, your majesty. I’m sorry.” Reuth turned to head back up the slope, and though Leo knew she thought she hid it well, he saw her throw a worried glance back at Marth.

  Elka hated leaving the convent. Apart from the hollow feeling of what amounted to being sent away, behind her were the two people she cared most about in her li
fe.

  She knew that Loethar was invincible, but Gavriel was not. Loethar, sensing her anxiety, had promised that he would not permit any harm to come to her friend. “I will guard him as a brother,” he had sworn to her. And she believed him. It was this promise alone that had convinced her to take the nuns to safety.

  They’d left just in time it seemed. Elka’s well-honed senses picked up the smells and sounds of the army, carried on the breeze: the sweat of beasts and men, the stale aroma of food, the low murmur of sound coming from a long way away. If she concentrated she could hear the rumble of hooves, rhythmic but daunting, the sigh of leather creaking and the clank of metal combining to form a special sound that spoke of war. The woman called Lily had certainly brought the most ill of winds with her; Elka could only just find it within herself to be mildly polite when Gavriel walked her over to say hello before the women left.

  Elka had thought she would be one of the first to run from the danger so it was Lily’s decision to remain and be used for “bait” if need be that had helped to restore some good opinion of her in Elka’s mind. She didn’t miss the way the petite and very pretty Lily seemed to fit so comfortably into the crook of Gavriel’s elbow as he led her, or how easy and familiar with each other they were. Now that she knew the story of Gavriel’s earlier days she could understand why he had formed such an instant bond with the herbal woman. They were of an age and even though it galled Elka to accept it, they looked good together. If not for Lily’s attraction to Kilt Faris all those anni ago, perhaps Gavriel would have been with her.

  But then Elka would not have met him, and he would not have led her down from the mountains; Loethar would not have crossed their path and she would not have realized that what she felt for Gavriel was not love but friendship . . . and perhaps pity.

  She smelled a fresh waft of the approaching army and her sharp hearing could pick them out very easily now; Elka turned instinctively and her breath caught to see the dust in the distance. They were close—too close—and she had been dawdling, lost in her silly thoughts.

  Elka trotted around from the front to hurry along the stragglers.