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‘Del Faren, Legate De Vis.’
De Vis nodded. ‘I won’t forget that name. Take precaution. They’re obviously using your relative as a messenger; they must be frightened we’ll attack one of their own. Find out what the barbarian wants.’
‘Sir,’ the archer said. ‘Ah, may I give him a note for my sister?’
‘You can write?’
The archer nodded. ‘A little, sir.’
‘You have one minute to scrawl something and then I want to see you out there and finding out more from him.’
The man nodded again, bowed and Gavriel was sure he must have imagined that the archer scowled at the legate as he pushed past.
The expectant hush that had fallen across the city over the past few days had infected the palace as well. Gavriel was sure that even from this height if he listened hard enough he could probably pick up the creaking of the rider’s saddle. A lot of people had fled the city but the majority had remained, trusting in their army’s strength, the impregnability of Brighthelm and their king’s ability to achieve a settlement. Gavriel reckoned many of them believed that Brennus had disguised his magical ability to coerce others but that he would now unleash it to negotiate a peaceful retreat of the barbarians. The De Vis family knew better.
‘Taking a long time,’ the legate muttered to the captain nearby.
‘Probably the note, sir,’ the man answered candidly. ‘Or he’s scared.’
‘He didn’t seem scared when he volunteered.’
‘He’s out, father,’ Gavriel offered and the conversation was forgotten as everyone leaned over to watch Del Faren approach the rider. The population on the battlements became so still and silent they could just catch the murmur of the two men.
‘Not very friendly are they, considering they’re family,’ De Vis commented.
The captain shrugged. ‘Perhaps his sister has been killed in the fighting.’
De Vis ignored the response, turning back instead to see the rider hand Faren a note in return which Faren pocketed.
Gavriel thought the spectacle was done with, and had just raised his hand to the rider who gazed up at them forlornly when a sound whistled out of the nearby woodland. In the blink of an eye the tip of an arrow had punctured straight through the rider’s heart and out between his ribcage. As the rider slumped forward, revealing the stub of the arrow’s shaft protruding from his back, the horse obediently answered a whistle, turning to canter back into the shadows of the trees.
‘Bastards!’ De Vis growled. ‘Get that archer before me, now!’ he ordered. ‘In the garret.’ He turned to his son. ‘Get the prince and follow me. And someone fetch the king!’ Runners took off in various directions.
In the quiet of the garret, De Vis addressed his son and the prince alone. ‘Your highness. Gavriel. I suspect the moment for your escape approaches. Do you understand, both of you?’
Gavriel glanced at the youngster. ‘Yes, father. Leo, er, the prince and I have discussed it. I know what is expected of me.’
‘Don’t even look back, son,’ De Vis replied, his voice suddenly tender. ‘All our hopes are riding on your shoulders and the courage of Prince Leo.’
A man appeared at the door. ‘Tell him to wait until the king arrives,’ De Vis called, returning his attention to the pair of youngsters. ‘All right, then. My prince, your father has been summoned and I’m sorry but this will be your best opportunity to say farewell to him before I ask Gavriel to remove you from here. The secret of your escape will be known only to myself and the king. Your whereabouts I take with me to my grave.’
‘Don’t, father —’ Gavriel began but was silenced by a fierce glance from the older man.
‘No pretence now. We know what we face. We each have our duty. Don’t let our deaths be in vain.’ He cleared his throat of the emotion that had begun to sound in his voice as the king arrived.
‘I heard we’ve had a rider,’ Brennus said, striding into the garret and bringing the smell of the queen’s perfume in with him. Gavriel inhaled it as though taking in the essence of life. When would he smell something so beautiful again? He glanced at Leo and could imagine the boy thinking much the same and perhaps silently fretting over his mother.
‘Your majesty,’ De Vis, began, ‘a rider has delivered a note to us.’
Gavriel watched Brennus’s expression darken.
‘Terms, you think?’ he asked.
De Vis shook his head. ‘Where is Faren?’
The archer was almost manhandled in.
‘Well, show us, then!’ the king ordered, more ferociously than perhaps he intended. Faren flinched.
It was De Vis who snatched the note and read it. ‘Well, it seems Loethar has perfect command of our written language. Or he had someone write this for him — perhaps the poor sod recently slain. Either way, majesty, he requests that you meet him for a parley.’
The king looked surprised. ‘But this is what we want.’
‘I can’t allow you to take him up on the offer, your highness. I will go in your stead. I agree it’s important we meet but we cannot risk you.’
Brennus nodded. ‘Has he said when, where?’
De Vis handed the note to the king. ‘He is bold. He is happy to meet in front of Brighthelm, in full view of Penraven but obviously out of range of archers.’
‘Doesn’t trust us?’ Brennus said, his tone laden with sarcasm.
De Vis gave a grim smile. ‘Seems not.’
‘It says here he will meet at the sound of a bell. His, I presume?’
De Vis shrugged. ‘I’ll be ready.’ He turned to Faren. ‘You may go.’
Once again Gavriel saw the man glare defiantly at his father, although Legate De Vis hardly noticed the archer’s expression. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘One more thing.’
‘Yes, legate.’
‘How is your sister?’
Faren shrugged, slightly embarrassed. ‘He wasn’t my brother-in-law, sir. The horse wasn’t the one I thought it was once I got up close.’
‘I wouldn’t think your brother-in-law would have a horse that answers to the whistle of our enemy.’
‘No, sir.’
‘But if it wasn’t your family why did you give him the note?’
‘He said he would find my sister for me if he could.’
‘I see. And are you aware the man was shot in the back by our not so gallant enemy?’
‘I am, sir, yes. Shocking.’
De Vis studied the archer. ‘I trust nothing incriminating or dangerous was in that note, Faren?’
The archer looked deeply affronted. ‘Why would I do such a thing?’ he demanded, adding ‘sir’ as an afterthought. ‘He got killed after I’d given it to him, sir. It was too late to worry about it then.’
Gavriel couldn’t help but mistrust the man. There was something cunning lurking behind that innocent expression, something directed at his father that he couldn’t for the life of him work out.
‘All right, Faren. Back to your post.’
The man bowed to his king, banged his fist against his heart to the legate and departed.
‘Something’s amiss there, father,’ Gavriel said, unable to stop himself.
‘Yes, I noticed. All the more reason for you to take your leave. Your majesty, I have instructed Gavriel to put the plan into action. The prince and he should leave immediately.’
‘Yes, yes of course,’ Brennus agreed.
The Valisar king turned to his son. ‘Come here, Leo, my boy. We must now say goodbye, you and I.’
Gavriel was as unhappy as Leo was to be hurrying down the stone steps away from where all the action was about to take place. The farewell between both pairs of fathers and sons had been stilted as each individual did his best to quell his emotion. Gavriel felt the goodbye as a pain at the back of his throat, as though grief had taken a form and now resided as a diseased lump … a cancer.
‘Gav, we have to watch what happens,’ Leo suddenly said, stopping short. ‘If we leave right now we’ll have no idea what has occurred, and therefore what are the best decisions to make once we’re on the run.’
The prince was right. Gavriel bit his lip as he thought it through. ‘I was going to give you time to speak with your mother.’
‘When I hugged her tonight I already felt like I’d said goodbye. She was so sad. I don’t want to see her crying like that again … unless we can take her with —’
‘We can’t,’ Gavriel interrupted. ‘I’m sorry, Leo.’
The prince’s lips thinned. ‘But you agree we need to know what’s happening, don’t you?’
‘Yes. I’m thinking we can see it from the spare watchtower.’
‘The one with the broken hinge on the door, you mean?’
Gavriel nodded. ‘No one uses it but we can probably get a reasonable view of what’s happening. We’ll also be out of everyone’s way.’
‘Come on!’ Leo said, bounding up the rest of the flight of stairs.
They encountered no one of note on their way; a few servants passed, rushing about their business, but they hardly glanced in the boys’ direction. Until of course they ran into Genrie.
‘Majesty, Master De Vis,’ the servant said, striding in her usual manner, arms laden with heavy linen. She curtsied to the prince as she stopped.
‘Genrie,’ Gavriel said as they approached. Leo said nothing but Gavriel could all but see smoke erupting from his ears at the delay. ‘Need help?’ he offered.
‘I can manage, thank you,’ she replied. ‘Where are you hurrying to?’ She cast a stern glance towards the prince but she addressed Gavriel. He wished she hadn’t done either.
‘Actually, none of your business,’ Leo replied.
‘Well, can I let someone know you are in this part of the palace, your majesty?’ It was offered sincerely, no hint of curiosity in her voice. Gavriel believed she was genuinely being polite.
‘Why?’ Leo asked.
She was undeterred by his uncharacteristically brusque manner. ‘This area is mainly storage. I just thought —’
‘Don’t think, please, Genrie, not on my behalf anyway,’ Leo said and Gavriel frowned as the prince moved on. He threw a glance of apology toward Genrie but she appeared unimpressed by his politeness or by the prince’s rudeness. She’d already turned her back on him.
Once inside, Gavriel pushed the door closed quietly. ‘Why are you so determined to be rude to Genrie?’
‘I told you. She dislikes me and it’s obvious. And that’s fine, I don’t care. But I don’t appreciate her snoopy ways. She’s far too interested in my life, always giving me looks of disapproval.’
Gavriel sighed and when Leo pointed toward a candle, he shook his head. ‘No flame. We’d light up like a beacon from outside and I just know my father will know who it is.’
‘Mine too,’ Leo said, conspiratorially. ‘Have we missed much?’
‘Nothing as far as I can tell. If you stand on that old crate, you’ll see better,’ Gavriel said, pointing. ‘That window will give you a good view.’
Leo did as suggested and a silence fell over them both as they spotted Legate De Vis guiding his horse slowly out from beneath the great gates of Brighthelm. He held himself proudly erect and Gavriel noted that his father had shown immense faith in the barbarian leader’s request for parley, taking himself unarmed toward the enemy.
Leo seemed to read his thoughts. ‘Your father is not wearing his sword or any armour,’ he said, awe in his voice.
‘It’s a peaceful discussion,’ Gavriel said, although the callous death of the Barronel rider suggested it was anything but that.
‘A peaceful discussion?’ The prince scowled. ‘Before we all start trying to kill each other, that is.’
‘There’s Loethar,’ Gavriel said, pressing forward, squinting as he saw a shadow move against the line of trees.
‘Does he really think he’s out of range of our archers?’
‘No. He knows he’s not. He won’t take any chances. They’ll talk, that’s all.’
‘I wish I could hear their conversation.’
Gavriel nodded silently in the dark of their tower. The torch his father carried threw a bright glow around the parley spot, which was well past the halfway mark between the castle and the woodland. Once again he felt a surge of love for his father’s bravery. Loethar moved his horse forward into that circle of light now and Gavriel held his breath, certain that every other person watching — especially the king — did the same.
Initially both men sat seemingly relaxed in their saddles, leaning slightly toward each other. But the language of their bodies quickly changed when the barbarian stiffened. Alarm pulsed through Gavriel as he saw his father open his arms at his side, in a strange gesture that echoed of an attempt to convey innocence. And then, suddenly, the marauder reached behind his back and lifted a mean-looking blade clear of a hidden scabbard. It was a fluid movement, clearly one he had performed countless times previously and Loethar didn’t break speed or rhythm as he brought the blade down onto the legate’s head with all of his body’s force, cleaving a grisly path that ended midway through the soldier’s neck.
Gavriel let out a sound of anguish and then his stomach heaved at the momentary glimpse of one side of his father’s head falling away before his body slumped unnaturally sideways. The legate’s horse started at the unnatural movement, turning a frantic circle before dashing off toward the trees. Gavriel could see little other than what the moon and the torch — now smouldering in the grass — could highlight, but the vague shapes told him that his father had fallen to the ground. The legate’s foot was still stuck in the stirrup and although it was bent at an unnatural angle, it clung doggedly and his body was being dragged behind the now panicked horse.
Loethar was yelling from somewhere in the dark. Gavriel could no longer make out his shape but his voice carried through the still, suddenly unnaturally silent night.
‘I demanded to see you, Brennus, not your lackey! And now that you have insulted me, not even paid me the due respect, I will slaughter every member of your family and one member from every family who lives in Penraven. Do not let it be said that I am not a magnanimous emperor of the Set for I shall let them choose who dies. But there will be no mercy for the Valisars.’ He spat, turned his horse and rode for the trees, long before the first archer could refocus sufficiently to unleash a single arrow into the darkness.
Gavriel stood unsteadily, swallowing back the desire to vomit, to scream, to hurt Loethar. Breathing shallowly he gasped, ‘Leo, we go now.’
‘Gavriel,’ an equally shocked prince began.
‘Now!’ Gavriel yelled into Leo’s face and the youngster fled toward the door.
And then they were running.
