The King's Sons (The Herezoth Trilogy) (40 page)

Vane placed a brotherly hand on Hune’s shoulder. Zacry
Porteg said, “I lost my father young, you know. Let it out, Hune. You can’t
hold something like this in.”

With that, Hune broke into sobs. Painful, racking ones, sobs
to distend his chest. He had not wept like this since childhood, since the
kidnapping, since the first night of many in that empty, uncomfortable
basement, and just as he had turned to his brothers then, Vane held him now;
neither man cared how stained from battle the other was. Hune didn’t realize
right away that Vane was crying too. Next to them, Zacry took support from the
wall.

After an indeterminate length of time, Hune could leak
nothing more from his eyes. Neither could Vane. The prince said, “We have to go
to the Palace. See my brothers. As much as these tidings mean to me, to us
all….”

Vane nodded. “The implications for Valkin are greater.
You’re right, Hune. That can’t wait, and frankly, I think we’d both prefer such
unpleasantness behind us.”

Zacry offered to put the general in charge of operations at
Oakdowns until Vane returned. With that, no excuse for delay remained.

The duke and prince broke the news to Neslan first, along
with August, in Neslan’s chambers. August’s relief upon seeing her husband was
short-lived; she burst into ardent tears, and Vane, as filthy as he was,
refused to contaminate her with his grime. Shocked and stoic, Neslan held the
duchess on Vane’s behalf with a numbed expression that threatened to turn to a
vicious, thriving pain at any instant.

“Go wash,” he told his brother. Told Vane. “We can’t see
Valkin with you looking like that, and the stench…. You reek of iron from the
blood.”

So Vane and Hune washed. Hune dressed afterward in his robe
of state, and Vane borrowed a spare from Neslan, who too dressed formally after
seeing August given a draught to help her rest. The men found Valkin in the
king’s office, asleep at the table. He was resting his head on his arms and
stirred when they entered.

“What is this?” Valkin rubbed his eyes. “What time is it?
How long was I…? Hune!” Valkin jumped when he saw his dark-haired brother; he
pulled him into his chest. “Don’t you
ever
leave like that again, do you hear? You could have…. Vane!” The duke
received similar treatment to the prince. “Is it over? The battle? You’re all
right, both of you? Praise the Giver! Where…? What…?”

Confusion overcame Valkin’s joy as he noted how his visitors
were dressed, their pained expressions. He retook his seat at the table. Stiff
from the position he’d held sleeping, he did not betray himself, did not
stretch his back. Vane took a seat on his right. Neslan sat on his left, while
Hune took the next chair over. The duke said:

“We’ve come to tell you of victory at Oakdowns. Linstrom and
his cohorts are no longer a threat to the crown, Your Majesty.”

Valkin paled to be addressed that way. He raised a shaking
hand to his mouth, and took a breath with his eyes shut before he looked to the
Duke of Ingleton. “He stayed? He stayed to fight?”

“At least one woman’s alive because he did so, but I’m
afraid your father….”

The crown prince’s voice was toneless. “He didn’t last the
battle.”

“He died to save another, Valkin. Your Majesty.”

Valkin must acclimate himself to that title, and soon.
Neslan patted his hand.

Vane continued, “In the morning, you’ll want to send for
Mason Greller. As your father’s Chief Adviser, he’ll have sheaves of information….”
Valkin nodded. “General Bruan will have a thorough report about the battle.
Casualties weren’t light. Your Majesty, I’m aware you’ve lost a father as well
as a king, and I don’t mean to disturb your grief, but if I may make one
suggestion, as spokesman of the Magic Council….” Valkin nodded a second time,
afraid that his eyes looked deadened. “Francie Rafe will be resigning. She’ll
need at least three people to replace her, with the amount of work she took on.
Might I suggest Mick and Mart Wolding, and Rexy Plaint?”

Some feeling of life, of vitality, returned to Valkin. He
creased his brow and asked, “Aren’t those your school’s first sorcerer
graduates?”

“They understand what an honor that appointment would be, as
well as the duty it entails. And they’ve proven themselves stout-hearted this
day in your service.”

“They fought at Oakdowns, then?”

“Unselfishly and bravely.”

“The appointments are theirs, if they’ll accept the posts.”
Valkin sighed. Paused a bit, to gather strength. “There’s one other appointment
I must make right now: my Chief Adviser. Vane, it has to be you. I’ll work
closely with Mason Greller, but he can’t continue in the post he held beneath
my father. With what just passed at your
home,
involving people with your talents…. You’re my only noble who’s a sorcerer. I
have to make my faith in you as public as possible. It must be indisputable I
won’t tolerate acts of hatred against the magicked, or everything your
council’s worked for could be erased overnight. Expanding the Magic Council’s a
start, but it’s not enough. Will you be my Chief Adviser?”

Valkin had no doubt: the Duke of Ingleton knew how difficult
his king found that command veiled as request. This was the first of many
gut-wrenching decisions in Valkin’s future, but Vane, bless him, made it easy
on the young monarch’s conscience. He stood to sink into a deep, fluid bow, and
when he rose, his large eyes displayed no sentiment beyond a deep respect.

“Your Majesty, I’m honored as well as humbled, for I know
you ask this with no other concern than for your people’s welfare. That must
come first for you as king, well before your desire to please or unburden those
you care about. I couldn’t claim to deserve such a position as you’ve given me,
but you have my word to aid you in any way I can.”

Valkin had to blink back tears, but he kept them from
spilling. “You’ll have to leave the Magic Council. It must have a noble, at
least one. Who…?”

Vane said, “Trust me to find an appropriate replacement.
You’ll have other concerns: the funeral, your coronation….”

Neslan told his brother, “Anything you need, you can count
on Hune and me. We shouldn’t wake Melinda, but in the morning, the three of us
can tell her what’s occurred.”

Valkin said, “We must. We can’t wait for Mother; the girl’s
bound to hear the king has died. He was her father, the same as ours…. She
should hear it from family.”

Hune
said, “She will, my king.”

“My
king.” Neslan repeated the words. Took a moment to contemplate them before he
said, “I can’t fathom what I’ve witnessed here tonight. What a mark of how far
we’ve come. Valkin, how did father begin his rule twenty-five years ago?”

“Banishing
Kora Porteg.”

“Exiling
a sorceress to save her from a mob. How did yours just commence?”

“I
asked Vane to….”

“You
appointed a sorcerer, a known and noble-born sorcerer, your Chief Adviser. And
every one of us knows it was the wisest choice you could have made. Think on
that, Valkin. Think of the progress that indicates, the chasm that’s already
been bridged over. Vane here is breathing evidence there’s hope for Herezoth.”

Somehow,
Valkin smiled. “It would seem so. Vane, should you be returning to Oakdowns?”

“The
general could use my help, unless you need me for something more.”

“There’s
a locked drawer,” said Valkin. “In my father’s desk. It’s always been locked.
He told me not to bother about it. I have no idea where he kept the key, but I
should know what’s inside. Could you…?”

The
princes watched as the king and his Chief Adviser approached the cedar desk on
the other side of the room. Valkin pointed out the bottom drawer on the
left-hand side, and Vane gave the handle a tug. Sure enough, it wouldn’t open.

“
Aperta,
” said Vane, and tried once more.
The drawer gave beneath the pull of his hand this time. Inside was a single
scroll, tied with a ribbon, and a torn strip of parchment on which Rexson had
written, “For my successor.” The duke handed them both to Valkin.

“It
seems your father knew you’d take an inventory of his desk. Perhaps this is
dated, so you’ll know when he left it.”

Vane
stood with a hand on the young king’s shoulder while Neslan asked his brother,
“Did you fall asleep when I left you here? Had you been sleeping all that
time?”

“I’d
hardly slept all week. I’m not sure how I slept this afternoon, but….”

Neslan
said, “I’m glad you managed it. You needed rest, and you should try to rest
some more, as soon as you read that scroll. Come tomorrow…. You’re ready for
this, but it’ll take some adjusting, and you’ll need your faculties.”

The
panic, the reluctance, the grief the king felt: he refused to show them. His
tone was not desperate; he was simply stating fact when he said, “I’ll need
you. Every one of you.”

Vane
promised him, “We’re each at your disposal, never doubt that. As is your
mother. The queen can’t be far from Podrar; I’ll go for her tomorrow.”

Valkin
thanked him and said yes, his mother should be at the Palace. She should never
have left to begin with. Hune said, “Life will be different for her now.
Different for all of us. We should give Valkin his privacy, I think, to read
what Father left him. Whatever it is, it’s the concern of Herezoth’s king, not
the rest of us.”

Vane
led Hune and Neslan in a deferential bow before their liege, and the three men
filed from the office.

When
he found himself alone, Valkin dropped, trembling, into the chair behind his
father’s desk. No, behind his desk.
His
bloody….

Good Giver, he’s gone.
He’s really gone, I…. How could he do this to me? How could he take up arms?
WHY?

Because
that was the man Rexson Phinnean had been. Because Vane and Vane’s home had
been threatened on his account, and he would not let the duke face that danger
without him. Because—Valkin shut his eyes against a wave of
nausea—Rexson had believed that, if necessary, Valkin was ready to take
the crown.

How am I supposed to
handle this? I…. I have to….

He
should eat something, he knew. He hadn’t eaten a thing since the lunch hour,
but the thought of food made him want to gag. He would eat in the morning,
whatever he could stomach when the time came. Right now, he had to read what
his father had locked away for him.

Valkin
unfurled the scroll. It was dated on the sixteenth anniversary of his birth,
the day Valkin had come of age and, upon his father’s death, would rule for
himself instead of his mother as regent.

To King Valkin I:

If you’re reading these
words, then your reign has begun in a manner far from ideal: unexpectedly, with
you at a young age. As that’s the case, there is information I wish to pass
along to you.

First of all, never
doubt I have done all within my power to prepare you for this moment. Your
greatest asset has always been your giving, unselfish heart, and it will serve
you well in the years ahead. Trust its guidance.

Though the choice, of
course, is yours and yours alone, I suggest you consider Vane Unsten for your
Chief Adviser, and lean firmly upon him.

That made Valkin smile.
He had followed his father’s advice even before it reached him.

All Mason Greller’s
traits that have served me best—his tested loyalty to our kingdom and our
family, his generosity as concerns his time and resources, his competent
administration of the lands entrusted to his care—you will find in Vane.
Please, son, don’t overlook the value of Vane’s upbringing in an inn. My years
in the Crimson League taught me how the people think: what they value and what
they want from life, what they can be expected to sacrifice if necessary and
what things they will never part with. Much of what I learned surprised me. You
lack that personal knowledge I and others paid so dearly for, but Vane
possesses it in a supply even vaster than my own. Don’t disparage or dismiss
that insight.

Resist the temptation I
know you’ll feel to spare your brothers from difficult and unpleasant duties.
They are capable, and they’ll wish nothing more than to aid you. Far from being
grateful, they will grudge you if you resist their help. You would mean it as a
kindness, but they would view it as a snub, and rightly so. You are not above
their support. Listen to their concerns, most especially their concerns for
your peace and health, for they know you as well as anyone alive does. Don’t be
too proud to allow them to comfort you in moments of grief or weakness.

Yours is a fiery spirit,
and while that is in no way a fault, you’ll want to remember the imprudence of
acting in the heat of strong emotion. Hold dear the lessons learned from your
abduction. You ignored the impulse to fight a stronger enemy or attempt a
desperate escape, and kept not only yourself but your brothers safe in
following the counsel of your reason, not your anger, fear, and frustration.
You are king, over yourself first and foremost. Emotion alone must not rule
over you.