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‘He always looks like that.’
‘True, but he’s safe for now. I think if Loether was going to kill your mother or brother it would already be done.’ He saw Leo nod, felt a tiny measure of relief. ‘Let’s think about our own situation,’ he said, hoping to distract his charge.
‘What do you think of my hiding spot?’ Leo asked, following Gavriel’s lead.
Gavriel was sure they’d be whispering like this for days to come. ‘Inspired. Who knows about this?’
‘Only my father.’
‘So now only you?’
‘It’s a secret known only to the king and heir, passing down through generations that way.’
‘So that’s why Freath was given such a cryptic message.’
Leo nodded. ‘father showed it to me when the troubles in the Set began several moons ago. He called it the ingress. It was built into the castle walls by King Cormoron centuries ago.’
Gavriel looked around at the narrow corridor in which they found themselves. Leo had had the forethought to grab a lantern as they ran into it via an exquisitely disguised entrance that even someone lifting the tapestry would likely not notice, and had used its flame to light a few tiny candles, that threw a ghostly glow but one still low enough not to attract attention through the peepholes they were now using to spy through. There was not sufficient room for the two of them to stand side by side and Gavriel thanked his stars he didn’t suffer Corbel’s dislike of enclosed spaces. He touched the cool stone. This hidden walkway had been deliberately designed and built for spying he now realised, exactly as they were, into the king’s main salon where presently Loethar presided.
‘Cormoran was obviously a man who trusted no one.’
‘Father used to play in these tiny spaces when he was a boy. His father told him about it when he was much younger than I am. I wish I’d known about it longer. I could have listened to so many conversations.’
‘Perhaps that’s why he didn’t mention it earlier,’ Gavriel whispered, his gaze never leaving Loethar. The barbarian sat quietly in a high-backed chair, watching Piven paint pictures on the floorboards with his father’s blood. ‘Is it limited to just behind this chamber?’
A cunning smile broke across the prince’s mouth. ‘No. There are several access points and all the main public chambers have these hidden chambers in the walls. So do some of the more private ones — my father’s salon, my mother’s apartments…’ Gavriel immediately decided Cormoron hadn’t trusted his queen. ‘… kitchen. I haven’t seen them all. But they’re all this tiny and uncomfortable.’
Gavriel’s attention returned to what Leo was saying. ‘No complaints,’ he admonished in a tight whisper. ‘It has saved not only your life but the Valisar line. There’s enough room to lie down, so we can sleep. If we keep the candles low and small, and only lit during daylight hours, we should go unnoticed indefinitely.’
‘What about food?’
‘I’ll have to think about that.’
‘I know how to get into and out of the kitchens. I’ve stolen birdcakes when Cook’s back was turned but this is obviously more risky.’
‘We’ll work something out,’ Gavin replied noncommittally.
‘Gavriel,’ the prince said solemnly. ‘I will never lose that image of father killing himself.’
‘I know, Leo. Look —’
‘No, wait. What I was about to say is that I’m deliberately going to carry that memory. Although few people take me seriously yet, I am a Valisar. That has been drummed into me since I was old enough to pay attention. Whatever I have to do to stay alive and make the barbarian pay for his cowardly deeds, I will do. So I’ll find us food and I’ll get us out when the time is right. We’ll have to learn the movements of their guards first.’
Gavriel wanted to cheer for the prince but his throat tightened with emotion at Leo’s stirring words and he just nodded, before saying, ‘We have to take off anything that could make noise, Leo. We’ll have to move around these narrow spaces in silence. If you’re going to sneeze or cough, you’ll have to smother it. We’ll need to tiptoe and whisper at all times.’
‘Lucky we had on our travel coats,’ Leo added.
And that reminded them both of being on the battlements and what had happened since.
Gavriel deliberately distracted the boy’s thoughts again, as well as his own. ‘We’ll have to pick a place to leave our waste. It’s not going to smell very nice soon but —’
Leo shook his head. ‘My great-grandfather thought of that,’ he whispered. ‘He and his son built an opening to piss down. It links up with a drophole.’
‘Ingenious,’ Gavriel muttered.
‘I’ll take you later to a spot where we can even sit down to take a shi —’
‘Surely not?’ Gavriel said, genuinely impressed.
Leo actually grinned. ‘It’s true, I tell you. The kings before us have thought of everything.’
‘They obviously enjoyed spying on people.’ Gavriel’s attention was grabbed by movement at the side of the room. The man called Stracker was back and the raven, which had been sitting quietly, was suddenly alert on its perch on one of the high-backed chairs. Gavriel nodded at Leo, and put a finger to his lips.
‘Back already?’ Loethar asked.
‘The cook is planning a feast for you tonight … if he can stop himself from gagging. He’s taken the king’s death hard.’ Stracker laughed.
‘Good,’ Loethar said. ‘I can still hardly believe I allowed it to happen that way. I should have known better.’
‘There’s someone waiting outside I thought you should meet.’
‘Who?’
‘The name’s Freath. Says he thinks he knows where you can find the other son.’
Gavriel stiffened behind the wall. ‘I’m going to kill that bastard,’ he hissed.
‘Lo save us!’ Leo murmured as Freath was brought in before Loethar. The aide did not look at all frightened. ‘But he doesn’t know where we are!’
‘Are you sure?’
Leo nodded, his mouth set. ‘I told you — no one else alive knows about the ingress except us two. And Piven, actually — he came exploring with me a couple of times.’
‘He doesn’t count.’
They heard Loethar’s voice and turned their attention back to the king’s salon.
‘And you are?’
‘The queen’s aide. Er, how should I address you, Master Loethar? Forgive me; I’m unsure of the protocol toward overthrowers of kings.’
Gavriel watched Loethar’s head snap sharply up from papers on Brennus’s desk to the man before him. He couldn’t see Loethar’s face but he imagined the barbarian’s eyes had narrowed as he scrutinised the servant, the silence lengthening. Meanwhile Vyk gave the newcomer a onceover, swooping down to hop around him.
‘I wish he’d peck his eyes out,’ Gavriel murmured to Leo.
‘You could call me emperor,’ Loethar finally replied, as though testing the word on his tongue. ‘Yes, emperor has a nice sound to it, don’t you think?’
‘Indeed it does, although “sire” is perhaps easier for your new people to stomach … so soon after conquest. I presume all realms now answer to you?’
‘You would be right in that presumption.’
‘Then, as the new head of the Set, perhaps you would call off your intimidating crow and we can talk about how we can help each other?’
Loethar laughed. Gavriel, appalled by Freath’s confidence, almost hoped the barbarian would pull out that mean-looking dagger and drag it across the traitor’s throat right now.
‘Call me sire, then. And Vyk prefers “raven”. What makes you think there is a we?’
‘Well, sire,’ Freath began, pushing once at the bird with his foot as a warning and then ignoring it, ‘I have walked among the power brokers for more than two decades. I am an aide to the king and queen of the most influential and powerful of all the realms of the Set. I would urge you not to waste this resource. I have knowledge of a like you can’t imagine.’
‘Such as?’
‘Such as who might bend easily to your will.’
‘And who might not?’
Freath smiled. ‘It seems we understand each other. There will always be rebels. I can help you with them. For starters, the De Vis boys will almost certainly find a way to rise against you.’
‘You bastard son of a whore, Freath,’ Gavriel growled. This was followed by a threat as to what he was going to cut off Freath’s body first and where he planned to put that spare bit of flesh. Leo glanced at him, worried.
Stracker laughed. ‘That is a jest, of course,’ he said to Freath, his words threatening.
But Freath seemed unimpressed; his expression remained unchanged while Loethar remained motionless.
‘I’ve never been known as a man of comedy, sire. The De Vis family is fiercely loyal to the Valisars. And your somewhat theatrical murder of their father is not something the sons will be easily able to come to terms with, I hazard.’
‘Tell me about them.’
‘The boys?’
Loethar nodded.
‘They’re twins. They look similar but are not identical and they have vastly different personalities. Corbel is the serious one, the younger one, I believe, by just a few minutes, but still waters run extremely deep with that boy. I say “boy” but he is a man and if my instincts serve me right, he is capable of being single-minded and ruthless.’
Gavriel realised Leo had grabbed his arm. He’d had no idea that his own fists were resting white-knuckled against the stone. He forced himself to relax and felt Leo’s relief beside him.
Freath continued. ‘The other boy, Gavriel, is outspoken, has opinions and expresses them. He’s more showy than his brother. They’re both handsome but one tends to notice Gavriel more. He is an excellent swordsman, I believe, skilled with most weapons, in fact.’
‘How old are they?’
Freath frowned, thinking.
‘A rough estimate will do,’ Stracker chimed in.
‘Actually, I can tell you exactly how old they are. They are turning eighteen in leaf-fall.’
‘And you believe these De Vis boys should be of concern to me? Are you suggesting I should be fearful of mere nestlings?’
‘Not afraid, no. Aware perhaps is more appropriate. They will not pay you any homage, sire. They worshipped their father, respected their king and are devoted to each other. Kill one and I suspect you’d kill the other fairly effectively. I doubt very much, considering the way they’ve been raised and by whom, that they would be frightened to die for what they consider their honour.’
‘And what is their particular focus of honour?’
‘Why, the Valisar king of course.’
‘King? Did you not spy Brennus’s corpse, Freath?’ Stracker asked in an acid tone. ‘There is no Valisar king.’
Freath ignored him. Gavriel couldn’t help but be impressed by the aide’s composure, even as he hated his treachery. ‘Sire, I do not refer to King Brennus but to his son, King Leonel.’
This created a tense silence during which Gavriel felt the hairs on his neck stand on end. Until now all the people in authority had been talking about Leo as the young prince — keep him safe, he’s the future, perhaps one day … But now, for the first time since the attack on Penraven had turned from threat to reality, Gavriel felt the full weight of responsibility that was resting on his shoulders alone. Leo was no boy prince, a young sapling to be protected simply because he was a Valisar. He was now the sovereign, and while he remained alive, Penraven had its Valisar king.
Leo whispered into the dark. ‘That’s scary to hear.’
Gavriel felt a rush of rage crystallise into something hard and unyielding. They would have to kill him to get to Leo.
Loethar’s voice broke through the silence. ‘You call him King Leonel?’
‘I don’t, sire. But everyone other than myself will behind your back. And as long as he breathes, he is the king — sovereign of this realm, and figurehead to the Set. As long as people keep faith with that they will carry a torch that the Set will rise once again and that you will be vanquished.’
Loethar banged his fist on the table. ‘I could have you gutted before me, throw your entrails onto a fire before you’re even dead.’
‘I know you could, sire. I suspect you won’t, though, because as I mentioned earlier I know everyone there is to know in this realm. I am familiar with most of the nobles and dignatories — certainly the royals, if any survive — in the rest of the Set. The transient pleasure of opening my throat would be a shameful waste of the resource … sire.’
‘Brazen, indeed. You impress me, aide.’
‘Thank you, sire. My previous employers were not so mindful of my use to them … or how I could damage them if I chose to.’
‘I will kill him,’ Gavriel hissed.
‘You’ll have to line up behind me,’ Leo whispered angrily and Gavriel, in spite of his fury, felt a spark of satisfaction at the youngster’s threat.
‘I shall give you first hack at him,’ Gavriel muttered back, ‘but only because you’re king,’ he added before returning his attention to the men they spied on.
Loethar regarded the servant. ‘And you want me to guarantee your life if I allow you to … er, how did you say it … share how you can damage the remaining Valisars?’
‘My life at the very least, sire. I am suggesting you take me on as your personal aide.’
Stracker laughed but there was no mirth in the sound, only menace. Piven chose this moment to reach up from the floor where he had been amusing himself and wipe his hands, sticky from his father’s blood, against his white shirt. Clutching Freath’s robes, he hauled himself to his feet.
‘Ah, Piven, you have been spared, I see,’ Freath commented, staring at the boy as though he were an insect. ‘Why is that, I wonder?’
‘He amuses me,’ Loethar said. ‘I like the idea that once I’ve dealt with the heir the only remaining Valisar left — although not of the blood — is a lost soul. He can be a symbol of the former Penraven, equally lost.’
‘Very good, sire,’ Freath said, finding a tight, brief smile that was gone almost as soon as it arrived. ‘Shall I make myself useful and have this child cleaned up for you?’
Loethar stretched. Gavriel felt sick. It seemed as though a bargain had somehow been struck during that conversation. He could sense Leo looking at him for explanation but he couldn’t speak.
‘You may take him and bathe him but put that shirt back on him. I want his father’s blood on show for all to see.’
‘Very ghoulish, sire. Appropriate humbling for watching eyes.’
