Royal Exile

by Fiona McIntosh

Obediently, everyone joined hands, though each kept his prayers private.

  “It is over now,” Kirin finally said ominously, and Clovis began to believe in his friend’s abilities for the cries stopped upon his last word.

  Stracker strode in, sheathing his sword. “What are you lot talking about?” Then he grinned maliciously. “As if I couldn’t guess.” Everyone straightened.

  It was Kirin who spoke. Clovis had to wonder from where the young man drew his confidence. “We were wondering what you had in mind for us, sir.”

  “Come with me and you shall find out,” Stracker replied. “Single line, hands on each other’s shoulders.”

  Clovis shuffled behind Kirin. He could feel Reuth’s hands on his shoulders and could smell the blood in the air as they headed to their fate.

  Ten

  Gavriel had no choice but to risk it. Leo needed food. On cue, his own hunger pangs gave a low grind, reminding him that the situation was urgent.

  How clever, he thought, as he dragged his hand softly against the various areas of the wall that were false. To all intents it looked like any other thick stone slab but the false panels’ cunning design allowed voices to be heard clearly and spy holes to be drilled with ease.

  At first he’d thought there were only a couple but Leo had shown him that many areas of the wall facing into the king’s salon were indeed fake, giving them this ability to eavesdrop.

  Leo was currently distracted, drawing up a rough map for Gavriel to show him the network of corridors as Leo understood them. The chalked maze that had taken shape on the wall astounded Gavriel, despite its amateurish scrawl.

  “This many?” he said, impressed by just how many corridors there were.

  “These are the ones I know, the ones father allowed me to play in now and then.”

  “Your mother doesn’t know about them?”

  Leo shook his head. “I told you, Valisar fathers and sons only. Piven came in with me a few times but…” The king shrugged.

  “I know,” Gavriel said, feeling an intense sympathy for the boy. He knew what it was like to have a brother to play with. Gavriel looked up at the drawing. “This is impressive, Leo.”

  “Father insisted I memorize my way around this region of the ingress. I really don’t know the rest at all or even how extensive it is.”

  “So he was teaching you?” Gavriel suddenly understood the convenient chalk.

  “Yes, we’d come in here, the three of us, and father would get me to walk through the ingress with him. Then he’d test me, getting me to scribble on the walls. He’d rub it off though so that I could memorize my way. He was planning to take me much further when…”

  Gavriel saw the young king’s face darken.

  “Yes, well, he’d be so proud of you now,” Gavriel quickly said. “Because it’s doing just what it was intended for.”

  “It was intended as a means of spying,” Leo said.

  “I don’t doubt it but I’ll stake my life on the fact that Cormoron built it as a final secret means of escape.”

  “I’m hungry, Gav. I’m feeling sick I’m so empty.”

  “Right, that was what I was going to suggest I do next,” Gavriel said brightly.

  “I’ll show you,” Leo said, immediately putting down his chalk and wiping his hands on his clothes.

  “No, Leo. That’s too dangerous now. You are now king and my father and your father—Lo keep their souls—made me your keeper.”

  “My champion,” Leo corrected.

  “That’s right. I am your protector and guardian.”

  “They picked the right twin, then, because you are the better fighter, aren’t you?”

  Gavriel smiled. “Not sure Corb would agree with you there but I do. He was never good enough to best me and I know it galled him, although he didn’t say much.”

  “Where is Corbel, anyway?”

  This was the question Gavriel had been dreading. “Er, I’m not sure. He was sent on a task before the barbarians arrived. Hopefully he’s had the good sense to get away completely.” Returning to the matter at hand, he said firmly, “Right, food. I’m going to follow your map to the kitchen and Leo, you’ve got to be prepared to eat whatever I find. You can’t be fussy and it could be raw.”

  “Not raw meat?”

  “Probably not meat at all. I’m hoping to find some bread, perhaps some cheese.”

  “That’s fine. Get some milk if you can. Hopefully someone’s remembered to milk the cows. Oh and—”

  “Don’t even mention honeycakes,” Gavriel warned, winning a grin from the king.

  “I suspect after last night’s dish, no one will want to use the oven again,” Leo said and Gavriel thought him brave to even mention it. He knew he should say something about the former king but was lost for appropriate words.

  “If I see them and can balance them, they’re yours, I promise,” he said instead. “So, down this corridor, past four openings, then the one on the right, turn left…” Gavriel screwed up his face, thinking hard, before saying, “left again?”

  “Right,” Leo corrected with a sigh. “Don’t get lost. Here, shall I give you the string that father used to teach me with? It’s somewhere back here where he left the chalk and other things.”

  “No, I need to remember and I’ve got it straight now. Past four, right, left, right.”

  Leo nodded. “How long before I should be worried?”

  “Don’t worry at all. I have no idea how long it’s going to take, especially if I have to wait for someone to turn his back or leave the kitchen.”

  “Let me at least come part of the way with you,” Leo begged.

  “No. This way if anything goes wrong, you have a chance to get out. If you hear voices, Leo, run. Make your way around the ingress as you know how and go to the opening you’ve spoken about. Take whatever chances you have to but get out of here if the ingress is discovered. All right?” Leo nodded. “No, you have to promise me aloud.”

  “I promise.”

  “Right. Keep an eye on Loethar. I have no idea what the time of day is but I reckon it’s got to be close to dawn, if not already, and he’s bound to make an appearance. Listen to what he says to the damn bird. He talks to it as if it’s going to talk back!”

  “I think he talks to Vyk because he’s not going to answer back,” Leo said, frowning. “Perhaps the raven is the only creature he truly trusts.”

  “I’ll be back soon,” Gavriel, said, shaking his head at Leo’s fanciful thought. “Talking to a bird,” he muttered with disdain as he loped off.

  It was almost dawn and Clovis found himself standing in what looked to be an unused yet simply furnished chamber alongside his companions. Understandably there was tension in the room and specifically a sudden wariness about each other. He stole a glance at Kirin, who was ignoring everyone, staring out of a tiny window, and then looked toward Reuth, who sat quietly on the floor, her arms wrapped about her knees. In fact even the few whisperings had ceased and all were immersed in their own thoughts, a grim silence hovering around each.

  Apart from Kirin, about whom no one knew anything anyway, Clovis was sure that all of them were only mildly Vested. The truly Vested of the land didn’t often admit to it. Seeking fame and fortune from sentient power seemed to be the realm of the mildly afflicted only. He smiled ruefully as he acknowledged that he fitted this description adequately.

  The door suddenly creaked open, disturbing his thoughts. People stood warily, unsure of what was going to happen. Clovis melted back to join Kirin at the window.

  “Here goes nothing,” he whispered, immediately nervous.

  Kirin looked bored. “Stay calm, stay true. You become instantly more interesting by being silent, unruffled. Watch the others’ anxious expressions and keen desire to please. It can work against them in this situation.”

  “What are you, some sort of oracle?”

  For some reason—perhaps it was their internal distress—they both found Clovis’s comment amusing and actuall
y laughed quietly with each other.

  “You two! At the back. Yes, you jokers.” Stracker’s voice interrupted their humor. They straightened their expressions. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing much at all,” Kirin answered, “but I’ve found keeping a sense of humor—even about impending death—is probably wise when you don’t have any control.”

  “And so you’re laughing at me?”

  “Not you,” Kirin added. “Just our own wretched bad luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “And to be Set people, rather than from the Steppes,” Clovis added, desperately trying to mimic Kirin’s manner.

  He wasn’t sure he’d managed it but he did notice that the stranger who had arrived behind Stracker twitched what might have been a suppressed smile.

  Stracker glared at them both, then turned to the stranger. “All yours, for what they’re worth. Take your time, they aren’t going anywhere fast.”

  The stranger nodded. “In here?”

  “Where else?”

  “Interview them in front of each other?”

  “Keeps them honest,” Stracker said, grinning maliciously. “Anyone gives you lip or trouble, have the guard take them out. They’ll have their throats slit immediately—Vested or otherwise. Do you all understand?” he asked, suddenly taking them all in with a fresh scowl.

  People nodded or mumbled their assent.

  Stracker pushed a scroll of parchment into the stranger’s hand. “Here, you’ll need this,” he said, before striding out. The man who’d been left behind turned to face them all, slightly bemused.

  “Well, it seems we’re to be in each other’s company for a short while. Let’s see what it says here.” He walked over to a table where a single chair had been placed. No one had dared sit but the man did so now. “Er, everyone is welcome to make himself as comfortable as he can. Let’s begin with the two ‘jokers’ at the back, shall we?”

  Kirin pulled a wry expression as Clovis glanced his way.

  “Us, sir?” Clovis asked.

  “Yes,” the man said, evenly. “Over here, perhaps, so that we don’t have to talk across everyone else.”

  They joined him at the table, standing before him.

  “Names?”

  Kirin put his hand against his chest. “I’m Kirin,” he said. “From Cremond.”

  “Clovis,” his companion replied.

  “Are you relatives?” the man asked, consulting his paperwork.

  They shook their heads, sharing a quizzical look.

  “Oh, it’s just that you seemed friendly enough with each other.”

  “Would it help if we were related?” Kirin asked.

  The man grimaced. “I’m afraid not. Master Clovis, it says here that you have an ability in telling fortunes…is that right?”

  Clovis nodded. “I used to live in Vorgaven and I mainly worked for the wealthy seafaring traders. I could give them an insight into buying/selling, weather patterns, what to invest in, that sort of thing.”

  “And how accurate were you in your predictions, Master Clovis?” the man asked, eyeing him directly.

  “No one complained,” Clovis replied, deliberately vague. He felt Kirin’s body weight shift next to him. Kirin wanted him to underplay his talent.

  “Are you a rich man?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Do you own your own dwelling?”

  “I do, er, did, yes.”

  “Where exactly?”

  “Do you know Vorgaven?” Clovis asked.

  “Indeed.”

  “Our house was on a small piece of land on the peninsula that looks out to Medhaven.”

  “That’s old Jed’s land isn’t it?”

  Clovis was impressed. Roxburgh was one of the more powerful of the sailing merchant dynasties and no one called old Master Roxburgh by his first name. “Yes, I was able to secure a small holding on it.”

  “Then you are not poor, Master Clovis.”

  “I didn’t say I was. You asked if I am wealthy, which I am not.”

  The stranger smiled. “It seems to me that your predictions, however ordinary you think them, obviously pleased enough of the right people. You’ll do.”

  “Do what?”

  “Just wait over there, Master Clovis,” the man said. “Now you…what is it you do?” he asked Kirin, effectively dismissing Clovis, who had no choice but to shuffle away, his clanking chains noisy in the thick silence.

  “I am from the Academy at Cremond.”

  “And you are a teacher?”

  “No. I’ve explained this all before.”

  “Then take a moment to explain to me, Master Kirin. It seems your life might depend upon it.”

  Kirin quickly summarized his position at the Academy.

  “I see. At the Academy did you know Scholar Shuler? He was part of the administration so I’m sure you would have run across him.”

  Kirin looked worried as he thought deeply. Clovis could see that his friend was uncomfortable and he begged Lo inwardly to bring this man, Shuler, and his face to mind. He felt sick when Kirin shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir, but I have no recollection of this person.”

  “Good, because he doesn’t exist,” the man said smoothly. “I was simply testing you. A desperate person agrees to anything.” He twitched another attempt at a smile, failing again. “So, you can sense aspects of people—is that a fair way of putting it?”

  Kirin nodded.

  “Can you sense what they may do next?”

  Clovis believed this was a trick question. The stranger was leading Kirin somewhere and he was sure Kirin was damned either way he answered.

  “Master Kirin?” the man prompted.

  “Er, sometimes I can get a feel for what they believe their alternatives are, and I can on occasion guide them in making a decision. Of course, this is not a precise skill, sir. How I interpret something is likely to be very different to how you might, for instance. It’s all very subjective.”

  Now the man did smile, genuinely. “You’re a slippery character, Master Kirin. Intelligent too. You do want to survive this…well, shall we say trial?”

  “Why don’t we say that? It’s such a convenient word to hide behind, with the nice suggestion that there’s anything fair or even remotely objective about this interview.”

  The stranger sat back and regarded Kirin with a hard stare. Clovis was sure if a pin dropped you could hear it anywhere in the room, such was the intense, heavy silence that surrounded his friend’s remark.

  “You’re a brave man, Master Kirin,” the stranger finally said softly.

  “I am young, I have only really just begun living the life I want. I have a mild talent for essentially what amounts to little more than being a good judge of character, perhaps being able to get to the truth of someone. That’s all. I am tired of trying to use it to barter for my life. So if it’s as worthless as I feel it is, let’s stop this charade. If I’m to be killed, let’s get it over with. I’m sure far better people with more meaningful lives have already gone to Lo on your leader’s whim, although why a man of the Set would join these barbarians for any other reason than pure cowardice, I can’t think of one.”

  Clovis gasped, along with the others in the room.

  “You may move over to stand with your friend, Master Kirin,” the man said firmly. “Next, Jervyn of Medhaven, where are you?”

  Kirin retreated, glaring at the stranger, who ignored him, Clovis noted.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he growled under his breath as Kirin arrived to stand alongside him.

  Kirin turned his back to the stranger and winked at Clovis. “We’ve got nothing to lose. Trust me, my friend.” Then he staggered, clutching for the wall.

  “What’s wrong?” Clovis asked, grabbing at Kirin’s arm.

  “Nothing. Tired, I suppose.”

  “Tired? You’ve got a dozen years on me!”

  “I meant tired of all this artifice.”

  “Well, it was yo
ur idea,” Clovis reminded him. “Now you’ve got him fired up and probably in a mean mood.”

  “I don’t think so,” Kirin murmured. He took a deep breath and stood straight again. “I think he liked us.”

  Clovis sneered but he noticed Reuth had been called. For some reason he held his breath. The conversation went much the same way as all the others. The man interviewed all of the people slowly, deliberately, never raising his voice or threatening. He simply listened, prompted and made a few notes.

  Finally he sighed and looked up from his desk. “Master Kirin? Come here, would you? You too, Reuth.”

  Clovis frowned, nodded at Kirin who looked a bit pale, he had to admit. Perhaps the young man’s bravado was failing him?

  “Yes?” Kirin said, moving once again before the interrogator.

  “I’m going to give you a second opportunity to fight for life.”

  “I told you, I’m not interested in bargaining for my life any longer.”

  “Not yours, Master Kirin. His,” the man said, pointing at Clovis. “Tell me what I want to know and I will save his life. Continue treating me with contempt and I shall have him brutally tortured and killed in front of you. Now, come stand here beside me, please.”

  Kirin moved slowly, a look of disbelief on his wan face. He glanced toward Clovis who could do nothing but stare back.

  “Good,” the man said. “Now perhaps you’ve already met and spoken with Reuth Maegren.”

  “Briefly and for the first time today,” Kirin said.

  “That’s fine. It matters not. Reuth tells me she has visions but like you and your companion, she chooses not to make much more of her talent. If anything she is reticent about it. Do you understand what I mean when I say reticent?”

  “Yes, curiously enough for this peasant, he does understand,” Kirin said in a cutting tone.

  “Careful, Master Kirin. I want you to use your skills—the ones you think so little of—and tell me if she lies.”

  Kirin looked at him, aghast. “I can’t—”

  “I’d like you to try, Master Kirin. Remember, your friend’s life depends on your candour. Do your best and you’ll save him a lot of pain.”

  “May I know your name?” Kirin asked.