The King's Sons (The Herezoth Trilogy) (26 page)

“At
times, one must extemporize.”

That
set Kora laughing again, and she moved her arms to her hips, which dissolved
her shell. “You of all people should know better than to antagonize a
sorceress.”

“I
do,” he said. “Believe me. You’re a special case.”

Kora
nodded her understanding of his words. She understood them a great deal more, perhaps,
than he suspected. She could feel old emotions stirring someplace deep inside
her, and grew terrified they might rise up before her to cloud her judgment.

“You
should go,” she whispered. “Go find Vane. You need his report, need it now.”
The king took a step toward the door, and then halted as Kora proposed:

“Perhaps
next time I should send Kansten to you with letters, instead of with a summons.
That might prove wiser.”

The
king retook his seat on the bed. “Come off it, Kora. We both know you’re the
one with a functional relationship at home. Me…. My wife’s the reason we’re in
this bloody mess. I’ll stand by her, of course. I must stand by her, but she….
How she could ever….”

Kora
remained standing. “Rexson Phinnean, Vane told me what your queen did, and why,
and as a queen, it’s nigh unforgivable. She should have known better, and as
king you have to acknowledge that, if only to yourself. The thing is, the woman
wasn’t acting as a queen. She was a mother, a desperate mother doing the only
thing she could think of to shield her children from further harm. The magicked
had already kidnapped them once. What might have happened next?”

Rexson’s
voice was hard. “She could have come to me, could have told me….”

“She
was desperate,” Kora insisted. “Seeking only to save her sons. As her husband,
as the father of her children, you should never hold what she’s done against
her.”

“She’s
threatened the kingdom, Kora. The entirety of the kingdom, if word of
Linstrom’s plot spreads too wide.”

“That’s
why, since Gracia’s not only your wife but your queen, you have to defend her, as
you said. Remember why she acted the way she did, and you’ll find defending her
that much easier. You’ll forgive her, you will. You forgave your brother in
time, enough to name your child after him.”

His
brother Hune Menikas. Head of the Crimson League. Rexson’s youngest son was
named after him, though perhaps to name the oldest Hune would have made more
sense. Whatever Rexson’s explanation for waiting, Hune was the third-born of
his children. The son that Kora’s daughter….

The
king would protect both Hune and Kansten. He would.

“You
must see Vane,” Kora pressed the monarch.

He
must have held small interest in continuing their conversation about Gracia,
because he nodded a stiff farewell and walked to the door. “I’ll send letters
with Kansten,” she reminded him. “Don’t seek me out unless you must. Unless it
becomes clear you’ll need me to….”

Kora
let her voice die, unwilling to state the deed she referred to, but the king
nodded again, this time to mark his comprehension: unless he needed her to
dispose of Linstrom quietly. He left the room, easing the door closed.

Zalski’s
first general, then Zalski himself…. The others Kora had stalked with her chain
had died as a result of the information she’d gleaned, but she, herself, had
not physically killed either one. This time, if Linstrom must be assassinated,
the responsibility would fall to her. Whether or not she would have to slay the
man, Kora took stock of her emotions, and found herself capable of the deed.
She was unsure how that knowledge made her feel about herself.

She
chose not to think of that. Or about her daughter and Hune. Her mind sought
something—anything—to ponder that was not Linstrom or the prince,
and hit upon Rexson’s comments that she was the one with a stable marriage.

That
was true. Her marriage was more than stable. It was the source of her
confidence, of her will to persevere through the hatred she knew strangers
still directed at her. The thought of life without Parker, of hurting the man
who had helped her spirit heal after exile….

That
was why she had to send the king away, at the first signals of an old
attachment reviving. If she had felt the old heat return, how much more must
have Rexson? The king, she suspected, had never quite forgotten her. While Kora
had started a new life, in a new land, Rexson was forced to spend his days in
the very building from which he had leveled banishment upon her: his only
recourse to release her from a mob before the townsfolk returned her to him a
bloody and broken corpse. The memory of that day still zapped Kora of all
energy. Some weeks she expended just as much strength attempting not to recall
it, though those struggles had become easier through the years, thanks to
Parker.

Her
Parker, always ruddy from the smithy, always with those well-toned arms and his
brown hair clipped close to his head. The bristles on his chin made him look so
distinguished…. Past forty, he had hardly begun to gray. To Kora, he had hardly
changed at all since the day they met. He was her life’s one constant in the
midst of her brother’s impulsivity, her mother’s sporadic aches and pains, her
children growing and changing so quickly. Too quickly.

What
would Parker say about Kansten, if he’d heard the news Rexson had just
divulged? He would tell his wife they must let their girl make her own way. The
path she was walking would likely break her heart, but that was a part of life,
and something from which they’d be wrong to shelter her. She’d recover from a broken
heart, if it came to that. Kansten was as resilient as her mother.

He
would say that last, for sure, and if Kora were to argue, it could only be to
name her Kancat more resilient. Kansten had reached an age to fall in love, she
had, though Kora wished she could deny the fact. Nineteen years, almost
twenty…. That much time could not have passed since the night Kora sat with
Parker on their cottage’s grassy lawn, their backs to their home, while Kora
fought “morning” sickness and told her husband she was expecting a child. She
could mark as much fear as excitement in her voice, and Parker, an arm around
her, had asked what had her worried.

“The
child will be a sorcerer. He’ll get that from me. What if he wants to learn
magic? To go to Herezoth? That’s possible, Parker. We’re both from Herezoth.
He’s bound to be curious about the place. What if he knows something like the
horrors I’ve survived? What if…?”

“We’ll
take one stage of the child’s life before moving to the next. That means the
pregnancy, for now. Preparing for the birth and what it means to have an infant
around. All right?” Kora nodded. “I know the child will be a sorcerer. That’s
something to worry about when he’s old enough to learn some magic. When he
reaches that age, we’ll consider what magic means for him. When he reaches an
age to strike out on his own, well, if he wants to leave Traigland, we’ll
confront that then. Don’t let twenty or more years of dilemmas overwhelm you in
a moment. It’s not necessary, Kora.”

“You
don’t understand, I….”

“What
don’t I understand?”

“I
decided I’d never have children. Before I got on that boat to Traigland, I
swore I’d never marry. All the hatred surrounding me, the stigma, the jeers…. I
still remember what those people yelled at me when Rexson threw me out the
Palace, and I felt that…. Parker, the cruelest thing I could do to a person
would be to make myself his mother. I couldn’t do that to a child. I wouldn’t.
But then I met you, and now I….”

“You
think you’re selfish for living your life, don’t you?” Parker placed a hand on
her shoulder. “You’re not selfish for this, Kora. You know I’d never lie about
something like that. It’s not wrong to live. It’s never wrong to live. Those
monsters can’t touch your baby here, and even if they could, both of us would die
before we’d let them, yes ma’am we would. You don’t doubt that?”

“No,”
she said. “No, of course I don’t.”

“Then
why do you feel guilty? What are you afraid of?”

“I’m
afraid the baby will want to go home. I can’t protect my child if he goes
home.”

“You’re
talking about something, what, sixteen years away? Eighteen? You can’t think
about that now. I’m telling you, you’ll drive yourself mad. Think about….
Imagine teaching the boy to read. Imagine telling him all those stories your
Pop told you. I’ll teach him to fish and ride a horse. This child will be as
happy and as loved, as mud-splattered from play every night as any child could
be.”

That
brought a smile to Kora’s lips. She folded her hands on her stomach, and Parker
placed one of his on top; it was large enough to cover hers. The peace and
contentment in his face, in his touch, were contagious. Kora took a calming
breath and tilted her head up to kiss him. Her admission had not insulted
Parker, had not dampened his joy, and as she saw that about him, she found her
own serenity.

“We’re
having a baby, Parker. Good Giver, a baby! I wonder which of us he’ll look
like?”

“He’ll
look like your family, if he’s lucky.”

Their
child had proved neither the son nor the sorcerer Kora expected. Kansten’s
greatest struggles, in childhood, had not been the ones Kora imagined she would
face. Still, the girl had soldiered through them all, and they had prepared her
for whatever might lie ahead. Prepared her for Herezoth. The time had come,
Kora realized, for her baby to strike out on her own. Kansten would need her
mother, and would have her mother, always, but not as a guardian and caretaker.
Not any longer.

You’ve other things to
take care of now. Like that chain. Linstrom.

The
mere sight of the chain turned Kora’s stomach, but she had to take it up again.
She was the only one who could. With a sigh, she threw the cold metal links
over her neck and returned to stalking the son of her unlikeliest old ally.

* * *

Valkin
found August in the dining room at Oakdowns. The long oaken table was clear of
food and dishes, and she sat at its head as she worked on correspondence. She
glanced up warily when the crown prince entered, then smiled when she saw who
her visitor was.

“My
husband’s with your father at the moment,” she told Valkin.

“It’s
you I came to see.”

“Me?”
August looked confused, but indicated he should take the seat beside her, to
her right. She set her quill on her blotter. “You came at a good time, then. I
just sent the children back to their lessons.”

The
duchess’s emerald-hued gown took Valkin aback. He had never seen her dressed
thus when he made an unannounced, informal visit to Oakdowns. She certainly
never took the time to have her hair done up on a normal day. He told her,
“You’ve come a long way from reading fairy tales to my brothers and me.”

August’s
eyes moved from the silk shirt beneath his perfectly fitted jerkin to the ring
on his hand. His family’s crest was carved into the band of gold. “So have
you.” She must have known how striking he would find her appearance, for she
told him, “I know I don’t normally dress this way at home. It might sound
foolish, but I thought it might help me keep my composure while Val’s doing
what he is. It’s a constant reminder of my station, of the responsibilities I
took on when I married whom I did. It reminds me why I must hold together.”

Valkin
nodded his comprehension. “That’s not foolish at all,” he said. Then he paused.
“Is it working?”

“Far
better than I imagined,” she conceded. The prince had no wish to dwell on the
danger that threatened, so he didn’t force the topic when she asked, “What did
you wish to discuss, Valkin?”

August
never addressed the princes by a title except when protocol demanded: when
others were present. She loved them too much to play such games. Valkin loved
her ingenuousness, and he came straight to the point as a mark of respect for
her time. He wondered if she understood that compliment. Likely not. Those
court subtleties were usually lost upon the common-born duchess.

“I’m
to meet with Tanya Greller. In my father’s stead. She won’t be pleased with the
outcome of our exchange, and I was hoping you could advise me how to handle the
situation. I know you’ve been on the receiving end of her ill will.”

The
queen had been correct to send Valkin here. August was touched that he would
seek her counsel; her eyes lit up to be given this opportunity, and she smiled
as she patted the royal’s hand.

“I
would be honored. It’s always astounded me that woman could be Thad’s sister.”

“Only
by marriage,” the prince reminded her.

“Even
so.”

Tanya
had married Thad’s eldest brother, Gilbert. She’d inherited the Duchy of
Yangerton upon her brother’s death, and Gilbert stood to inherit the Duchy of
Podrar when his aged father and Rexson’s Chief Adviser died, making the pair
the most powerful nobles in Herezoth below the king.

“Tanya
Greller,” August began, “was unreceptive to my early attempts to reach out to
her. I’m glad I made them, because they prevented her disdain at my birth from
turning into true loathing. She still grudges giving me the time of day, but at
least she maintains cordial political ties with my husband. That’s the true
reason I’ve tried so hard to get on with her. She must respect Val and his
place at court as legitimate. After all, she’s ruling that duchy until her son
comes of age.”