Royal Exile (9 page)

‘No, Leo, that’s grief. You’ll learn all about this in years to come,’ Gavriel said, feeling far too wise for his years all of a sudden. But then he’d learned enough about grief through his father, who had never stopped mourning Eril, their mother. He could counsel with genuine wisdom on how grief hardens someone, as it had hardened Regor de Vis. ‘Come on, I’ll take you up to the roof. It might be a while before we can do that again and then you can have some supper.’

‘Gav, when the time comes that you keep speaking about, what is the plan?’

Gavriel looked around, ensuring they could not be overheard. ‘We escape through the kitchens and the cellars. My father has worked out our route. We take nothing, Leo, remember that. Just the small sack you’ve already assembled.’

‘It’s just that when that time comes it probably means my father will be dead.’ He said it so flatly and it sounded so raw that Gavriel could do little other than to take a breath. Leo continued, unaware of his keeper’s discomfort. ‘And if father is dead that means only one thing.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I am king,’ he replied, his large blue eyes looking up at Gavriel intently.

‘Yes, but —’

‘And a king does not run from his own palace.’

‘Leo, you know we cannot risk you,’ Gavriel said, feeling flustered. He ran his hand through his long hair. ‘There isn’t a good time to discuss what might happen should your father die but you have raised the issue so let’s talk about it now.’

‘Should father die, I would be King of Penraven,’ the prince reiterated. ‘That means you will do as I say, rather than the other way around,’ he added. There was nothing overbearing in what he said even though the words sounded high-handed, and yet Gavriel felt a fresh chill of worry creep through him.

‘But while your father is alive we all have to do as
he
says — and he has instructed that no matter what you say or do, I am to get you away from here once the fighting begins.’

‘But listen, Gav —’

‘Leo, if we leave it too late, then they will kill you too. Do you understand this?’

The prince nodded solemnly.

‘We cannot risk that the entire Valisar line is ended. You
have
to accept this. I know it’s hard and I know you want to be brave and be like your father and stay. I know you don’t want to leave your mother either but you are portable, almost invisible. They are not. I will carry you on my back if I have to but I know I can get you away, no one else. This is what everything is about — it’s about saving your life, protecting the line.’

‘And you would give up your life for it?’

‘If I have to, yes. That’s what honour is about; it’s what loyalty is and it’s the responsibility that comes with being one of the king’s nobles …’ He could see he was losing the boy’s attention with the rhetoric but he was thinking aloud for his own benefit now. He didn’t want to die. He certainly didn’t want his father to lay down his life so easily. And he definitely didn’t feel as brave as Corbel seemed to think he could be. The truth of it was that Gavriel was feeling sad. That was it. It hit him hard and he took a deep breath, only realising minutes later that the prince was shaking him.

‘Sorry, highness.’

‘Leo,’ the prince corrected. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Just thinking. Nothing important,’ Gavriel lied bleakly.

5

That evening, up on the battlements, standing briefly alongside his father while the prince was kept well out of sight admiring the weapons and talking to some of the soldiers, Gavriel watched with a sense of doom as a rider approached the main gate. He wore the insignia of Barronel but carried no weapon and yelled to the gatekeeper that he was one of the captains from the Barronel Guard. He looked so bedraggled that it was little wonder he drew only jeers from onlookers. But he persisted, until Gavriel heard his father say to one of his own captains that someone should see what he had to say. One of the archers listening nearby, spoke up hesitantly.

‘Er, sir?’

‘Yes,’ the legate said brusquely, annoyed by the interruption.

‘I think I know that man.’

‘You do?’

The archer nodded. ‘I think he is my brother-in-law.’

‘What?’

‘Sir, I, er, I think he’s married to my eldest sister. She left to live in Barronel a decade ago. I’ve only met him twice but I think it’s him.’

‘It’s dark, man. How can you be sure?’

‘His horse, sir,’ the archer said. ‘It’s a cantankerous brute. I recognise it by that white flame on its forelock and the splash of white at its right ankle. It was always an odd-looking beast.’

‘You’re sure now?’

The archer shrugged. ‘I believe it’s him.’

‘Captain, send this man to see what the rider has to say. It will be easier if relatives speak, rather than sending a stranger. Well done, soldier. Your name?’

‘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.