Read King’s Wrath Online

Authors: Fiona McIntosh

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Epic, #General

King’s Wrath (14 page)

‘You’re coming too?’ she asked, careful not to make him feel that he owed her anything more. ‘You’ve done what I asked of you.’

‘I have nothing else more interesting to do right now than hear your long tale. I’m fascinated to discover what has led up to me being here and it also gives me the ongoing titillation that I might just see your —’

She nodded her thanks and quickly said, ‘Follow me. And, Janus —’

‘Yes?’

‘If you say a word about my arse, I’ll wallop you.’

‘Cock!’

‘Pardon,’ she said, glaring at him as she gently lifted Loethar.

‘That slips out a lot,’ he admitted.

She exploded into helpless laughter and as he realised the innuendo in his words, he picked up his bag, chuckling. ‘I’m glad you find me amusing.’

‘I’m glad you’ve chosen to come with us.’

‘It’s big but she does have a nice arse,’ Loethar murmured, drifting momentarily from his sleep before his head lolled against her breast. Elka ground her jaw.

Janus couldn’t help but smile. ‘I’m coming along because I think he needs my assistance still,’ he said.

‘You see, already you’re under his spell,’ she accused.

‘Rubbish! The man is a tyrant. But he is just a man and I am a doctor. My conscience won’t let me leave anyone who needs my care.’

‘Fair enough.’ She nodded towards Loethar in her arms. ‘He can get away with it because he’s drugged and isn’t fully aware of what he’s gabbling about, but if you mention my backside, I will hurt you.’

Janus pursed his lips to make it plain to her that he would try.

11
 

The Abbess smiled. ‘My, my, but I can see we have shocked you, Regor.’

Corbel had stood as he’d hastily swallowed. The stew tasted sour in his mouth suddenly as he regarded the darkly attractive woman in the robes. He aged her in her fourth decade though she looked better than most women in their third. But despite her good looks there was something mean in the cut of her mouth, something cruel in the eyes that glinted defiantly. ‘Should I bow?’ he asked, trying to buy himself some time.

‘Not here,’ Valya replied with a lazy smile. ‘I am simply one of the women of the convent. As you can see,’ she said, pointing to the tray. ‘Regor,’ she said, tasting the name. ‘No relation to Regor de Vis, I hope?’ she continued, raising an eyebrow.

Corbel gave a short gust of a laugh. He hoped it sounded vaguely ironic rather than angry, which is how it felt. ‘That’s the second time the former Legate has been mentioned to me,’ he said, feigning bemusement. From the corner of his eye he saw Evie watching him carefully. He couldn’t believe they were in the same chamber as one of the designers of the overthrow of the Valisars. Word had travelled to them through spies that Valya, princess of Cremond, was moving with the barbarian horde. It had seemed unthinkable at first but his father had then told him the story of Brennus breaking his pledge to the Cremond Crownto marry its daughter and how that had affected the young woman, broken her relationship with her parents, broken her faith. Corbel believed he could see the history of her pain reflected in the slight sneer that seemed to be her normal expression.

‘He was a fine man,’ the Abbess commented. She smiled. ‘It’s all right, we can speak freely before Valya; she has reason to have changed her loyalties.’

Corbel was glad the Abbess had jumped to the wrong conclusion. ‘You knew the Legate?’ he continued.

‘Not personally, no. I knew of him and our convent felt the effects of his generosity and that of the Crown. Regor de Vis was a man to admire no matter what creed or race. He was one of those rare individuals who are noble in the heart, not just in name.’

‘Lo keep his soul,’ Barro said reverently.

Corbel had to bite the inside of his lip to stop any emotion showing. ‘I … er, I wish I had been named for him now. No, I’m just an ordinary Regor. Perhaps my parents were impressed by the Legate.’

Valya regarded him. ‘You have a noble manner about you.’

He made a scoffing sound that he hoped masked the choke he felt at his throat. ‘Noble? No, just a good family. Why are you here, if it’s not a rude question?’

‘I have been banished from Loethar’s court,’ she said plainly and he noticed she didn’t seem embarrassed so much as angry. ‘I failed him by giving him a daughter recently.’ She motioned towards the swelling at her belly, and Corbel realised she must have given birth recently. ‘She died. They say the Valisars could never hold onto a girl child but our child was not Valisar. I’m of the opinion that it’s that wretched palace at Penraven. It reeks of death.’

‘Valya, my dear, don’t get yourself upset,’ the Abbess soothed sounding tense. She looked at Corbel. ‘The empress is spending some time with us.’

‘Don’t call me that, Mother. He doesn’t view me that way any longer.’ Her voice sounded weary.

Corbel knew she referred to Loethar.

‘And still you are the empress … in name, in status, and in marriage,’ the Abbess said in her kind tone.

Evie stood suddenly. ‘Are you feeling faint?’

Valya glared at her. ‘How would you know?’

Evie gave a crooked smile. ‘I’m … I’m a healer. Your pallor is a strong indication that you need rest.’

‘A healer,’ the Abbess remarked with wonder. ‘So young?’

Evie shrugged. ‘The empress should not be working.’

Valya sneered audibly. ‘The people who brought me here insisted I be given work.’

The Abbess nodded unhappily. ‘It’s true. We’re trying to follow orders without —’

‘Low-born scum!’ Valya snarled, grabbing her belly and swaying slightly.

Evie was at her side in a blink, holding her. ‘Please, sit,’ she said, indicating her chair. ‘Mother, regardless of what was ordered, I would hazard a guess that the empress has lost a lot of blood. She should be recuperating, not waiting on visitors.’

‘I couldn’t agree more,’ the Mother said helplessly.

‘Is she under guard?’ Evie demanded.

‘No. But we gave our word,’ the Abbess replied.

Evie snorted. ‘Well, I am giving new orders. Until Valya is fully recovered from the trials of her labour and birth, and I’m happy that her blood levels are returning to some normality, I will not permit her to be anywhere else but off her feet and resting.’

Her instructions were met with silence. Corbel saw the Abbess and Valya exchange a tense, confused glance. Before they could react, Barro spoke up.

‘Er, Evie is a talented healer,’ he explained, nodding at Corbel.

‘Despite her age, she’s rather senior in her sanatorium. She’s used to people listening to her advice,’ Corbel said, apology in histone. ‘Evie, you are no longer running your special healing service as you did from Galinsea.’

She looked abashed. ‘Yes,’ she stammered. ‘Forgive me, please. I do forget myself.’

‘She has an almost magical talent for curing ills,’ Corbel explained hastily, flashing a fearful glance at Evie. ‘That’s why I brought her with me. I’d like to set up a sanatorium,’ he blurted, reaching desperately for excuses.

‘Lo, be praised!’ the Abbess pronounced, clasping her hands. ‘Bless you both for such philanthropy.’

Mercifully, Valya announced that she was feeling nauseous and the Abbess was diverted, springing into action and summoning help. Valya was bundled away hastily, and Corbel was relieved he didn’t have to explain why Evie had left Galinsea, or was travelling with him, or even why they were in Penraven.

Once Valya was gone, the Abbess took a breath, smiled uneasily and then apologised. ‘I’m trapped somewhat. I gave my word to the emperor, via his emissary, that I would provide succour for Valya but that she would never leave here. It is not his intention to make her suffer physically, you see, but he is punishing her mentally I suppose. There is more to Valya’s tale than she presents. She is accused of murdering the emperor’s mother … and between us, she doesn’t deny it, even though she refuses to directly answer the accusation. Frankly, I think the emperor has behaved rather decently. He could have ordered her head so easily. She is well cared for here, though she would probably argue that she is a prisoner.’

Evie looked to be doing her best to understand. ‘But surely you can see that she is not well enough, Mother, to be doing anything.’

The Abbess nodded. ‘I can, but you see, Evie, my child, I have no idea if the emperor or his factions have spies in here. And the emperor has decreed that Valya be useful; that she is not to be waited upon or treated with deference but that she must fit in as best she can to the life of the convent.’

‘I see,’ Corbel said, frowning.

‘Why did the baby —?’ Evie asked.

The Abbess held up a hand to stop Evie’s question. She sighed to cover her hesitation. ‘Valya doesn’t wish anyone to discuss it. Understandably, she is deeply upset. If she chooses to tell you more, that’s her choice.’

‘You will have to watch her, Mother,’ Evie warned. She glanced at Corbel. ‘I may be telling you something you already know but some women can have a strange perspective on the world after having a baby. It’s to do with their hor—’ She stopped herself and frowned. ‘Well, we’re not fully sure yet,’ she explained and Corbel felt relief that she’d caught herself in time. ‘The body has its own way of tackling trauma,’ she continued. ‘Experience now tells us that some women can go mad, can certainly start acting strangely — out of character, I mean — and are capable of dangerous decisions regarding themselves.’

‘Waning,’ Mother commented, nodding.

‘What?’ Evie queried, looking between them.

Corbel leapt to her rescue. ‘They don’t call it the same thing in Galinsea, Mother. Over there it’s known as being depressed, as in forced down.’

‘Really?’

Evie nodded, looking grateful to Corbel for his help. ‘A depression, yes, and … er, well, that situation can be responsible for some unpredictable moods and actions.’

‘Thank you, your advice is helpful. Now, please, your food has gone cold.’

‘We’re happy to eat it exactly as it is, Mother. Please don’t worry,’ Corbel assured. ‘We are very grateful for your generosity. And speaking of your generosity, you were talking about the other Regor who was here, that he met the Qirin.’ She nodded. ‘Is it possible for us to speak with her?’

‘She sees those she wishes to. I am happy to petition her on your behalf.’

‘Please,’ he said, spooning up the last mouthfuls of stew. He noted happily that Evie was also quickly swallowing down her food. They both needed full bellies and no meal should be wasted when they didn’t know where the next was coming from.

She rang a bell. ‘Our Qirin is contrary at times but her whole reason for being is to answer the unanswerable.’ She looked up at another knock. ‘Ah, Margrey. Please take my guests to our visitor wing. See to it that they have fresh water for bathing and please launder their clothes, provide whatever they need.’

Margrey nodded. ‘Please, follow me.’

As they stood, Barro belched gently and grinned at the Abbess. ‘Thank you again for the meal.’

She smiled at him. ‘I’ll take that as another compliment.’

Corbel bowed slightly. ‘Thank you, Mother.’

‘You’re most welcome.’

‘If I may, I would like to leave a donation to the convent.’

She smiled. ‘You may,’ she said. ‘Feel free to stay a day or two. I would be pleased if you would visit Valya,’ she said to Evie.

‘I will look in on her, Mother,’ Evie promised.

‘And I hope you will not forget us. We look forward to hearing about your progress with the sanatorium. I would recommend basing it in the north. The water is so pure here. Precisely what patients from the city require.’

Corbel nodded, feeling embarrassed by his lies. ‘I shall do that, Mother.’

‘I hope the Qirin provides enlightenment.’

12
 

Kirin turned to Lily. She couldn’t have known. He filled his expression with forgiveness, masking, he hoped, his intense fear for her safety.

‘Unless I’m mistaken,’ the general began, his tatua beginning to stretch with the cruel smile that was forming beneath it, ‘and I was only there an anni ago — there is no mill on Medhaven. Flour is brought — as are most supplies — over the small channel of water by boat from the mainland.’

Kirin sighed silently as he regarded the woman he loved. His mind raced as he watched Lily hesitate before, to his enormous pride, he saw her gather herself. ‘Well, you’re wrong, General Stracker,’ she defied politely. ‘Forgive me, but there is a small mill.’ She turned back to Kirin and smiled. ‘I’m sure you remember,’ she urged gently. She returned her attention to the towering general. ‘There has been since before I or Kirin were born. But the family didn’t survive well, especially not when the miller himself died unexpectedly not long after you left,’ she said, glancing at him. ‘Link tried to keep the family business running but I’m sorry to say it perished. Of course you’re right, general, that all our supplies come from across the channel into Port Killen … including our flour these days.’ She beamed him a smile. ‘I’m sorry that you didn’t taste the Chervil Bakery bread. It was the best of the realms in its day.’

Stracker’s eyes narrowed as he regarded the innocent expression on Lily’s face. Kirin was amazed, but covered his awe as best he could and looked straight forward. If he’d so much as caught Lily’s eye he was sure he would have felt moved to applaud.

‘You said this Chervil fellow
is
a miller,’ Stracker growled. ‘I might be from the Steppes, Mrs Felt, but I understand the subtlety of the Denovian language better than you think.’

Lily swallowed, smiled even brighter. ‘My mistake, general. A slip of the tongue. You make me feel nervous. Leak is no longer a miller, of course, but I always think of him as dusted in flour and smelling of his breads.’ She nodded. ‘Forgive me. These days I believe Leak is eking out a living as a grower. His father also owned some orchards.’

Stracker’s gaze slid ominously back to Kirin. ‘So let me get this right, Felt. You conveniently left Freath shortly before he also left the tavern to meet his fate, and you travelled to Medhaven where you coincidentally met your former sweetheart, whom you happily married.’

Kirin tried Lily’s tack of smiling. He hoped it had just the right amount of embarrassment in it. ‘General, when you put it so baldly like that it sounds far-fetched. But this is the truth. Yes, I left that evening so that I could join a merchant caravan that was leaving at nightfall. As far as I was concerned Master Freath was turning in for the evening because he had an important meeting with the mayor the next morning on behalf of Emperor Loethar. I headed south simply because I hadn’t been home in such a long time. Perhaps in the back of my mind I hoped that Lily hadn’t married, although I was incredibly surprised that she hadn’t.’

The general regarded them both with suspicion although his glance towards Lily was also lascivious. ‘So am I,’ he replied. ‘And you went directly south?’ he added casually.

Kirin hesitated while he decided whether Stracker would know of the diversion to Woodingdene. He had to take the risk; they had to get out of this chamber. ‘We travelled swiftly,’ he said,shrugging. ‘I broke away from the caravan to head for Camlet.’ He glanced again at Lily as he crafted his lie. ‘I took a ferry across the river into Vorgaven and then a fast carriage south to another ferry across to Medhaven.’

‘You have been busy, Master Felt, over the last days. And still found time to meet, rekindle a former love and marry, no less.’

Kirin smiled. ‘And still be back for dinner,’ he said, quoting an old rhyme.

Clearly the general didn’t know it, for his expression clouded. Kirin didn’t try explaining. He watched Stracker reach for a bell pull. They heard the bell sound distantly in the hallway outside and Kirin felt his heart skip. Perhaps they’d got through the interrogation.

‘General Stracker,’ Lily said into what felt like an awkward pause. ‘I can’t help but notice a wound on your forehead. Would you like me to treat that? I am a healer.’

The general’s tatua stretched malevolently. ‘What wound?’

‘Er … ‘Lily glanced at Kirin, fearful. She pointed helplessly to her own head, mirroring the position of the wound. ‘It looks rather nasty. Perhaps a stitch or two would —’

‘Mrs Felt,’ Stracker cut across her words. ‘I am of the Steppes.’ He glanced disdainfully at Kirin. ‘We are not a soft people. If I have a wound I have not noticed it and it can wait until I can be bothered to clean up.’

She nodded, embarrassed. ‘Of course, general. I just don’t want it to get infected.’

He laughed at her. ‘It is touching that you say that as if you really care.’

Before she could respond there was a knock at the door and Kirin felt a wave of relief wash over him. Perhaps now they could escape this tense, difficult confrontation.

‘Come!’ Stracker bellowed, glancing at Kirin with a satisfaction that Kirin could not read. ‘Ah, Master Vulpan. I presume you remember Master and Mrs Felt?’

Kirin’s hopes disintegrated. The hideous blood taster nodded, self-satisfied. ‘Of course I do. The very handsome Vested couple I met very recently. Mrs Felt,’ he said, holding up his bandaged hand. ‘Your magical ministrations didn’t work. I’m most disappointed.’

Lily looked at Kirin and he begged her through a glance to hold her nerve … for just a few heartbeats longer.

‘You’ve lied to me, Felt,’ Stracker accused, clearly relishing the taut atmosphere and the sense of pervading fear that Kirin knew he and Lily were offering up.

He gave a tight, embarrassed smile. ‘Yes, I have.’

‘Why?’

‘Frankly because I don’t think you like me, General Stracker. I think you’ve been looking for an excuse to slit my throat for years.’

Stracker laughed, loud, genuine amusement. But the mirth died in his eyes almost as quickly as it had arrived. ‘You’re right. I don’t like you, Felt.’

‘I don’t know what I’ve ever done to earn your displeasure, general.’

‘I’ve always thought that you and Freath were hatching something.’

‘Hatching something?’ Kirin repeated, as offended as he could possibly sound, despite the lump forming in his throat. ‘Hatching something against you?’

‘Me, my brother, the empire …’

‘No, general. You are absolutely wrong about that,’ Kirin said and began to feel a low protest of pain deep in his head.

At the sight of Vulpan, Lily quailed. As Kirin and the general debated a moot point that she was sure Stracker was simply amusing himself with, she watched the man of blood watching her, licking his lips in anticipation. The way his eyes moved over her she was sure that she and Kirin would not be kept together ifthey survived the next few moments, even though Kirin was doing his best to sound undaunted, speaking back to the general as though they were simply discussing a matter of business and not their lives.

Stracker hadn’t pulled his cunning trick simply for amusement. He had wanted to trap Kirin, to give himself the formal excuse he needed to punish the Vested. Perhaps Kirin had a chance at survival if they transported him off to wherever it was the Vested were being held — somewhere in Barronel. But she? Vulpan had already accused her, in his cunning way, of cheating. Very soon they would discover that she didn’t have an enchanted bone in her body. And it didn’t take much imagination to visualise what fate awaited her.

‘The mere fact that you have lied to me so blatantly, Master Kirin, suggests you are a man of intrigue,’ Stracker accused.

Kirin’s shoulders slumped. ‘Look, general, I have no more to say on the matter. I have nothing more to hide from you. I simply didn’t overcomplicate my explanation with details of meeting Master Vulpan. I’m sure he will confirm that I am Vested and that my wife and I were compliant and open with him.’

‘You are certainly Vested, Master Kirin,’ Vulpan said. ‘And yes, once cornered, you were compliant. But somewhere between the pair of you is a lie. I sense it … I tasted it in her blood. Something is not right.’

Stracker’s expression changed. He adopted a look of puzzlement. ‘Mrs Felt, can you tell me about your brother, please?’

‘My … my brother?’ she stammered, forcing herself not to glance at Kirin. ‘What do you know about my brother?’ she said, desperately hoping for some clues and some time to formulate a response.

‘I have met him.’

‘I can’t imagine how … or why?’

‘Really?’ Stracker asked, surprised. ‘He seemed very concerned for you.’

She took a deep breath. ‘He’s like that. But I haven’t seen him in a while.’

‘How long?’

‘I … I can’t remember.’

‘Your mother’s dead,’ he said, matter of factly, seeming to be enjoying himself.

Lily groped her way forward, hoping she would learn more if she offered something. Her mother had been dead for so long it was laughable. ‘What did my brother say? And how did you meet?’

‘We met because he was trying to find you. Actually it was Vulpan he saw first.’

‘That’s right,’ Vulpan said, looking smug.

Lily noticed that Kirin was very quiet. She hoped he was taking stock, listening carefully, formulating some plan for them.

‘He was obviously trying to let me know about our mother, then,’ she risked.

They both nodded, to her relief.

‘Yes, that’s what he said. He had followed your trail to Woodingdene.’

She stared at the general, no idea of what to say next.

‘And where is Lily’s brother now, general?’ Kirin said.

‘We’ll get to that, Master Felt. I’m interested to hear from your wife about her brother.’

‘Why?’ Lily asked. ‘We are not close. I have nothing to tell you about him.’

‘Not close?’ Stracker’s brow lifted. ‘What a pity. He seemed so concerned for you. So anxious to reach you. And here you are so uncaring of his brotherly affection?’ He gave a soft tutting sound. ‘What does your brother do, Mrs Felt?’

She knew she was trapped. Although the only person who would follow her was Kilt, she was sure. He would have heard by now of her questionable decision to follow Kirin Felt so closely that she had claimed to be his wife. She could imagine how hereceived that news — in fact she could imagine it so vividly, Lily could see the expression on his face. Gone would be the mirth that was an almost permanent quality of Kilt’s sardonic expression. His face would darken, his eyelids would close slightly and his lips would thin. Again just slightly. But all of these subtle changes would occur in less than a heartbeat and everyone in his camp knew that look.

Though she hated him at times for locking her out, keeping his emotions so tightly controlled, there were other times, like now, when she loved him for risking his life so openly in order to protect her. She tried to run through in her mind all his various disguises. Which one might he have chosen to masquerade as her brother? She had no idea, but she knew that guessing wrong would be lethal.

And so she gave him only silence.

Stracker smiled and it was filled with a malevolent satisfaction.

‘I’ll tell you what’s not right here, Vulpan. It’s the fact that Mrs Felt was being hotly pursued by a man who called himself Pastor Jeeves, who might have acted the part of a priest, but was clearly so much more by being Vested.’

That shocked her. ‘Vested? I don’t think so.’

It was Vulpan’s chance to turn on his oily grin. ‘Oh yes, indeed, Mrs Felt. Make no mistake. The man who claimed to be your brother
is
Vested.’

At first it made no sense and she began to shake her head, wanting to laugh at them for their pitiful stupidity. But then realisation hit her so hard it felt like a sharp pain in her belly. Was that Kilt’s secret? The possibility took her breath away. She knew her expression was sagging in its shock, that her mouth was open. Kilt … Vested? There had never been any sign of it. She trawled through her memories of being with him. No! He had never once used any magic.

Maybe the man pursuing her hadn’t been Kilt. ‘Are you surethis was my brother? Was he very tall, bearded?’ she said, mimicking a bushy growth. Kilt might have a number of disguises but Jewd was so distinctive that she could describe him easily. And if he had been present then she could be sure they were referring to Kilt as the pastor.

Stracker’s amusement died and was replaced with a scowl. ‘No. That big Denovian will one day swing from a noose I’ll tie myself after I’ve split his gut open with my blade. He helped your brother escape.’

‘Escape?’ Lily repeated. ‘Was he your prisoner?’

‘He
was
my prisoner.’

‘But why?’

‘He was Vested, Mrs Felt,’ Vulpan explained in his annoyingly polite way. ‘And he was immensely potent. He resisted blood tasting, only relented when I assured him that the Wikken Shorgan had identified him.’

Immensely potent,
Lily repeated in her mind. Suddenly everything she knew about Kilt seemed to disintegrate. She felt sick to the pit of her stomach. Why hadn’t he shared this?

‘Mrs Felt, I think we should all stop pretending.’

‘Pretending?’ she said, feeling annoyed at repeating so much but she was desperate for time to think this all through.

‘Yes, pretending that we don’t all know exactly who the man disguised as a priest happened to be. I’ll stake this empire on the fact that it was not your brother.’

It was Kirin who gave her courage. ‘You don’t have an empire to stake, General Stracker,’ he remarked coolly.

‘In my brother’s absence, I am the emperor,’ Stracker growled. He returned his hard gaze, peering from beneath the dark green tatua, to Lily. ‘And I’d stake the empire again, Mrs Felt, on a bet that Pastor Jeeves is not only no relation to you but that he is none other than the famed outlaw Kilt Faris.’

Lily felt her fear so tangibly now its presence was like a person standing next to her, smiling with sinister pleasure at her spiralinto terror. She reached for Kirin, grabbed his hand, and felt a spike of reassurance as he wrapped his fingers around hers.

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