Royal Exile (40 page)

‘It’s already forgotten, my lord. Let me organise someone to clean up that mess. In the meantime may I suggest Genrie as your taster? I trust her and I think she’ll do a fine job until you find someone more appropriate.’

Loethar waved a hand. ‘Whatever you think best, Freath, as long as she doesn’t start her haranguing again. You are dismissed to prepare for your journey. I shall see you on your return, hopefully triumphantly bringing me the head of Leonel of the Valisars.’

This was their third morning and they’d fallen into a companionable silence. Food was scarce but no one had a particularly large appetite. Every step north seemed tinged with either sorrow at what they were leaving behind, or tension for what was ahead. Temperatures had cooled noticeably and although it was late summertide — nearly the onset of leaf-fall — Lily explained the drop in warmth was mainly due to the thickening canopy of dense trees, at first hawthorn, then beeches, birches, ash and oak, and finally, fir. There was no more dappled sunlight, no more joyful birdsong; suddenly the surrounds felt a lot more threatening even in the middle of the day.

‘It’s very silent here,’ Leo said.

‘We must be close,’ Lily replied. ‘Except we don’t really know what we’re looking for, do we?’

‘Why don’t we just yell for him?’ Gavriel suggested. ‘You said he’s not going to just show himself to us. We have to lure him out. What have we got to lose?’

‘Other than our lives, you mean?’ Lily asked. ‘What makes you think Kilt Faris is the only one in the forest? Or even that he will welcome us with open arms?’

‘I don’t,’ Gavriel admitted. ‘I agree that this is an enormous risk but it’s one Leo and I decided to take when we were trapped in the palace. You can’t imagine what we witnessed there, Lily. I won’t subject you to even hearing it repeated.’

‘Nor do I want to,’ she said quickly.

‘My father would think much less of me if he knew he’d raised his heir to allow others to risk their lives — give their lives, even — while I ran away from the same challenge,’ Leo confirmed.

‘Brave words,’ Gavriel said understandingly.

‘No! You’re getting this wrong, Leo. Listen to me,’ Lily demanded. ‘Everyone who is taking these risks and giving their lives is doing so to preserve yours. It’s your responsibility to stay alive, no matter what.’

‘Lily, I —’

Leo never finished what he’d begun to say, as quivering arrow shafts struck the ground all around them.

Gavriel sounded surprisingly calm as he murmured, ‘Well, at least we know they don’t want to kill us … not yet, anyway.’

‘Gavriel …’ Lily murmured. Leo heard the fear in her voice even as he hated the fact that she turned to his friend first.

‘Be calm, Lily. Leo, you all right?’

‘Not dead yet,’ Leo said through gritted teeth.

‘We’re looking for Kilt Faris,’ Gavriel called, turning and yelling to the trees. His words were greeted with silence; there was nothing but shadows among the trees.

Gavriel tried again. ‘We’ve trekked three days from Brighthelm. The barbarian has proclaimed himself emperor, in case you didn’t know, and we’ve escaped the palace to bring news. I’m sure Kilt Faris would want to hear what we have to tell him.’

‘We’re not buying,’ boomed a voice.

‘Fair enough, because we’re not selling.’

A single man, huge, with thick dark hair swirling about him strode down the incline.

‘It’s Algin,’ Leo breathed. Algin was the giant of Set myth. Gavriel seemed to find this funny but Leo was sure his chuckle was nervous laughter.

The large man arrived before them and, without a word, punched Gavriel so hard in the belly that he didn’t have time to utter a protest. Silently, he crumpled to the ground like one of the paper lanterns Leo’s mother used to make him.

‘What in Lo’s name was that for?’ Lily shrieked, bending down to Gavriel. ‘You could kill him punching him like that, you oaf.’

‘Really?’ the giant said. ‘Then perhaps he shouldn’t laugh at strangers … especially when he’s trespassing.’

‘Trespassing!’ Lily hissed. ‘On whose land?’ Below her, Gavriel groaned, then coughed.

‘Mine!’ the stranger said.

‘These are crown lands,’ she hurled upwards. ‘They belong to the Valisars.’

‘Sounds like they belong to the barbarian now.’

Leo took immediate offence and used the trick Legate De Vis had taught all the boys in the cohort, taking a flying kick between the man’s legs. Though it came without warning, at least Algin had time to yell his wrath before he joined Gavriel on the forest floor.

‘Good kick, Leo,’ Gavriel congratulated, still wincing.

‘Enough of this!’ said a new voice as more shadows melted from behind the trees. The speaker was a normal-sized man who descended from the hill, followed by a number of men, presumably the archers. ‘Get up, Jewd.’

Jewd was still groaning on the ground. ‘Little bastard,’ he growled. ‘When this pain stops I’m going to tear him limb from limb.’

He sounded serious. Leo glanced at Lily, but she ignored his worried look. ‘Are you Kilt Faris?’ she demanded of the new stranger.

‘You’ve got until the count of ten until these men loose their arrows again. And this time they won’t deliberately miss you.’

Leo noticed how calmly and softly the stranger spoke and yet the words sounded all the more threatening because of it. He had not yet stepped fully out of the shadows so his features were not obvious but he wore a closely shaved beard and from what Leo could tell he was not nearly as intimidating as his giant friend. He was lean, as tall as Gavriel perhaps.

Both Jewd and Gavriel had dragged themselves to their feet. A worried glance at Gavriel told Leo that De Vis was injured again. His complexion looked pale and clammy. And his arm was bleeding.

‘Come on, Lily,’ he said, tugging at her sleeve.

‘Six,’ the man counted.

‘We’ve come a long way,’ Lily persisted. ‘We have something of importance to tell Faris. If he’s among you —’

‘Seven,’ he continued, unmoved.

The men stepped back. They’d already retrieved their arrows and now nocked one in each bow.

‘What, you really need all these bowmen to kill us?’ Gavriel snarled. ‘You creep. She’s unarmed, and that’s a boy there, in case you hadn’t noticed.’

‘Eight.’

‘Let’s go, Gav,’ Leo said.

Lily was not easily deterred. ‘You have to listen to us. I’m begging you. Please tell us where Kilt Faris is. We have a message for him.’

‘Nine,’ the man uttered. At his word the bows trained on them were stretched taut in instant unison.

Leo looked around wildly. The man felt no sympathy for their plight, didn’t even appear vaguely interested in their important message. He was also at home in his surrounds, confident of his place. This had to be Faris. He took the chance even though he knew Gavriel would be furious.

‘Unless you’re prepared to kill your king, I suggest you lower your weapons,’ he ordered, surprised by how commanding his newly broken voice sounded.

The man shifted his gaze. ‘My information tells me the king is dead — that the whole royal family is dead, in fact.’

‘King Brennus
is
dead,’ Gavriel replied. ‘As is Queen Iselda. And unless you like the idea of barbarian rule, the whole Set’s only hope right now is his son, Leonel, the new king.’

Their captor’s attention slid once again, this time to Leo. Leo couldn’t see his eyes clearly in the shadows, but he felt their weight resting heavily on him.

‘You are Leonel?’

‘I am,’ he said, as defiantly as he could.

The stranger stared at Leo a moment longer. Then he abruptly uttered a guttural command. The archers lowered their bows.

‘Prove it,’ the man demanded.

Leo looked around, unsure. ‘How?’

The man shook his head. ‘That’s your problem.’

‘Now wait a —’

‘Be quiet, woman, or I’ll have someone shut you up by force.’

Lily went silent but Leo could feel her seething next to him.

‘Well?’ the man said, still calm.

Leo’s mind raced. ‘Can you at least get him some help, please?’ he said, trying to buy time, motioning toward Gavriel.

‘He’ll be fine. And if not, it’s not our problem. You came here uninvited.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Leo countered. ‘My father, King Brennus, told me to come here. He didn’t say it directly but I think he hoped that you might become an ally. You are Kilt Faris, aren’t you?’

The man stepped out from the dark that had been shading his face. He was younger than Leo had anticipated, although it was difficult to judge his age. Perhaps thirty anni, no more — and yet this man had been giving his father problems for many years — a decade of trouble at least.

‘I am,’ he replied. ‘But you have still not convinced me of who you claim to be.’

Faris wore no adornments, Leo noticed. His clothes were simple and practical, although the sword at his side looked to be of exceptional quality. In fact — Leo frowned — he was sure he recognised it.

‘That’s Faeroe,’ he blurted, pointing.

Faris studied him, his hand instinctively moving to touch the hilt of the sword.

‘Gav, he’s got Faeroe!’ Leo exclaimed, now angry.

Gavriel looked at the sword, incredulous. ‘Are you sure?’

‘No question of it. I love that blade. I’d know it anywhere. I think I even cried the day my father said he had given it to someone special. I’d always hoped it would be mine.’

For the first time since they’d seen him, Faris looked remotely interested. ‘Bring them! Blindfold them first,’ he ordered and suddenly the three of them found their eyes covered before being bundled up the incline, still deeper into the forest.

Freath could hear the screaming in the streets. Mothers were swooning to the ground as precious sons were dragged from their arms. He could hear the pounding of his blood in his ears as his heartbeat soared with fear and his throat became parched. But the ale before him was no respite, tasting sour in his mouth.

‘This can’t be happening,’ Kirin said, his lips as bloodless as his suddenly paled complexion.

‘It is happening. We must remain stoic.’

‘Stoic? You’ve nine names on that list. Nine lives. Nine sons of this town.’

‘I can count, Master Kirin,’ Freath reprimanded. ‘I cannot prevent this.’

‘But why are you helping the barbarians?’ Kirin demanded. ‘You led them here, read out the names, assisted in the hunting down of these innocents. Are any of them the boy in question?’

Freath shook his head. ‘That’s not the point. You and I both know this is about fear-mongering. They want word of this to spread like fire to other villages, towns, even realms. They want the king to be untouchable. Not only will no one offer protection, Loethar is counting on this brutal tactic to yield the boy sooner rather than later.’

‘But in the meantime hundreds must die … to what, make a point?’

‘Sadly, yes, to make a point. So the Set understands that Emperor Loethar will not be defied.’

‘Well, I won’t be part of it any more. I’m with Clovis. I’d rather die than soil my soul with this.’

‘War is ugly, Master Kirin. And, trust me, we are at war even though the cries of battle have ended and armies no longer march. You and I, Clovis, Genrie, Father Briar … we are all the Set has. If we don’t fight — and, believe me, we are fighting in our own very tiny way — then not just your soul but all our souls are lost.’

Kirin stared back at him angrily. ‘So you’re just going to sit here, sip your ale, and allow that monster to behead nine boys in this town? While you do nothing.’

‘I didn’t say I would do nothing. But I am saying to you that these first nine lives are indeed lost. You must pull yourself together. No amount of railing from you can save them.’ Freath squeezed Kirin’s hand and although the Vested tried to snatch it away, Freath gripped it firmly. ‘Now calm yourself. And listen to me.’ He removed his hand, laid it back in his lap and took a deep breath. ‘I want you to travel ahead — go to the town of Berch. There are twenty-two lads eligible for death there. According to our census, one of them, a boy called Tomas Dole, belongs to a large family of ten children. He is destined for slaughter.’ He threw a pouch of coins onto the table. ‘Give this to the boy’s parents.’

Kirin stared at the leather pouch with dull confusion. ‘Why?’

‘I’m compensating them for giving us their son.’

‘I don’t get it.’

‘We are going to say that boy is King Leonel. The parents are going to swear to it too. You are going to drug the boy with this,’ Freath placed a vial with iridescent blue liquid in it on the table in front of Kirin, ‘and then you’ll get word to me … so I can behead him.’ Freath swallowed hard, surprised he could even say it. Whether he could do it remained to be seen.

‘What?’ Kirin roared.

Freath looked around. They had been left well alone. The innkeeper, knowing they were with the barbarian party, had cleared his inn, poured them each an ale and left. Their isolation suited Freath’s purposes. He had fully anticipated a loud argument with Kirin and he certainly didn’t want bystanders.

‘Stop bellowing. If Stracker or one of his men overhears this, all is lost. Listen, Kirin, this way we relinquish only up to thirty-four lives at worst. If I don’t try this we’ll lose scores across this realm alone. If you help me I can try and stop the killing before it goes much further. The Dole family lives on the fringe of the forest. It will sound plausible that Leonel was found there.’

‘But the child …’ Kirin bleated, all the fight gone out of him.

‘I know, I know,’ Freath soothed. ‘But his life is forfeit already. With his death he will save countless others — and he’ll also protect our king.’

‘How will you convince Loethar that the boy is King Leonel?’

‘Not that many people knew Leonel outside of the palace and I took the precaution of removing the only painting we had of him. Loethar might have seen the cross-stitch rendition that the queen made for her bed cushion but really all that gives Loethar — if he’s seen it — is a very rough likeness. The queen used to have a pendant that had a very good likeness of Leonel painted on it but she told me she’d lost that many moons ago.’ He frowned, recalling her sadness at her carelessness. ‘Anyway, providing Tomas Dole is sandy haired, or golden haired … fair, in other words, we can pull this off. If he has dark hair, we don’t go ahead and we try again with a new family. I have another marked as a potential just in case.’