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Authors: Fiona McIntosh

Tags: #Fantasy, #General, #Fiction

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BOOK: Tyrant's Blood
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‘Someone will have to explain this to us,’ he said brightly, his arm wrapping around Lily in protection.

The innkeeper’s wife couldn’t wait to do the honours, it seemed. She held up a length of tiny pink, mauve and violet seaside daisies strung together. ‘Well, the marriage is now officially blessed not only by Lo but by the townsfolk. Now we need to wrap
you both in simple flowers of love and witness what’s known as the Lovers’ Kiss, and then we shall leave you to your wedding supper and whatever comes after.’ She giggled.

‘Lovers’ Kiss?’ Lily asked nervously.

‘Get on with it, you shy young things,’ the woman urged. ‘Lo, strike me, you’re both too old to be playing so coy.’

Kirin held up his hands in mock defeat. ‘You need to understand our decision to marry was hasty. We were in love a long time ago as youngsters. The intervening years have made us hesitant and yet seeing Lily again I knew there would never be another woman for me. Never has been.’ Lily realised Kirin was making a speech that he hoped they’d all remember if the townfolk were ever questioned about the marriage.
Clever Kirin, trying to ensure their safety
. She heard him finish with: ‘I’m just so blessed she said yes.’

‘I’ll say!’ someone called out.

Kirin smiled self-consciously and Lily could see how hard he was trying to keep the pretence going. ‘And I presume as we kiss, you will wrap us in the daisies?’ he clarified, before adding, ‘and then you will leave me alone to my bride?’

‘Exactly,’ the innkeeper’s wife confirmed, beaming as the revellers cheered.

Kirin turned. ‘Lily, dear one. Allow me to express my love for you,’ he said theatrically and although Lily was dying inside, she adored him for trying to help her through this difficult time. He leaned close to her ear and whispered beneath the raucous noise, ‘Kilt will forgive you. Make it look real.’

She had to trust him. Reaching up, she put her arms around his neck and closed her eyes to block out her shame. She would let Kirin kiss her and she would pretend to respond. So why was she feeling so much heat in her cheeks? It wasn’t guilt, it wasn’t the humiliation…it was something else she was refusing to openly admit.

A roar went up as she felt his soft lips gently touch hers. She was aware of people moving around her, could feel the daisy chain beginning to wrap them closer in their embrace. What she hadn’t
expected was her eagerness to respond to Kirin’s gentle kiss so quickly and while she convinced herself she was simply playing her part of the deception skilfully, she found herself wrapping her arms more tightly around his neck, her lips moving in tandem with his. She was aware of his ardour in another place and dismissed that her own body was reacting to it, answering it.

She inwardly begged for the cheering to stop and for the daisies to be done with, and especially for the kiss to end…yet still she clung to him, her tongue treacherously beginning to tentatively explore his mouth. Suddenly, and to her shock, Kirin pulled away from her, a huge roar of approval accompanying his huge, feigned grin.

‘Now look what you’ve all caused,’ he said, pointing below his waist.

Lily didn’t need to look; she had felt his desire, could feel her own tingling through her. She was breathing hard and could feel her cheeks flushing, and although she tried to force a smile to match Kirin’s she couldn’t. Her mind was a roiling mass of confusion.

‘I think we need to let these newlyweds finally have some peace,’ the innkeeper’s wife said. ‘Everyone out! You both make me want to be young again,’ she added, tapping Kirin on his behind and winking suggestively at Lily.

As the last person finally trooped out, the door shutting behind her, Kirin and Lily just stood there, trapped in part by the daisy chain but mostly by their combined distress. Kirin broke the spell and the chain by turning away.

‘Please forgive me, Lily. I couldn’t—’

‘Don’t,’ she begged, pulling away as well, the flowers dropping to the floor. ‘It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t mine, either.’

‘We did what we had to do,’ he assured, storming over to the window and placing his hands on either side of it, staring out, no doubt to compose himself.

She was sure he was aware she hadn’t held back. She prayed that she had fooled him. ‘Kirin, you’ve probably just saved my life again with that kiss, so please don’t feel bad.’

‘Bad?’ he groaned. ‘I feel ill. I feel dirty.’

‘Dirty?’ Lily repeated, unsure whether she should feel insulted.

‘I feel as though I took advantage of you,’ Kirin continued.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she said, rushing to the window and placing a hand on his shoulder.

He reacted as if stung, twitching away from her. ‘Touching me doesn’t help.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She stood beside him, feeling as guilty and as wretched as he seemed. ‘We did it to keep ourselves safe. You told me that.’

‘I know why we did what we were forced to do, Lily. I just didn’t expect to—’

‘I know. I know. Look,’ she began, desperate to repair the situation. ‘Let’s eat something, let’s plan what we’ll do next and then let’s sleep. We need to be fresh. I presume we ride for Brighthelm tomorrow?’

Kirin shook his head. ‘I’m not sure I can face the palace immediately.’

‘Oh?’

‘I might take one extra day—even if I have to ride around aimlessly. I just need some time to think. I wanted to find Clovis and I know if I go back to the palace now, I’ll never get this chance again.’

She nodded. ‘All right. We’ll leave early so we don’t have to face anyone.’

He turned to face her and she saw that his distress had melted. Kirin took her hand and kissed the back of it. ‘I’m sorry. It’s not you, Lily. My life is a mess,’ he admitted. ‘And now I’ve just complicated it further.’

‘We’ll sort it out, Kirin. This is all my fault. No, not mine, in fact, it’s Kilt’s. So when he starts throwing around accusations, I’ll remind him that following you was his idea. We’ll blame him for the fact that we now find ourselves married to each other.’

He actually smiled and once again she privately acknowledged how handsome he was when he did so.

‘How are you feeling anyway?’ she asked.

‘Exhausted,’ he admitted. ‘But those seeds did a damn good job.’

‘We’ll find some more. Come on, eat something. We might as well devour all this food they’ve left for us.’

He let her lead him to the bed.

20

In broad daylight Sergius could make out the terrain, could even recognise some plants. He wasn’t sure why he’d begun picking the pink, mauve and violet seaside daisies today but he’d been collecting a few of the pretty pink flowers of love when he’d heard a familiar caw. Looking up, he recognised the shape of his favourite friend.

Friends were few these days—just a couple of people from the closest village, who brought supplies to keep him going for moons on end. He wanted for little and grew a lot of what he needed anyway. But whenever he could make out Ravan, his heart lurched with joy. Ravan always brought real news from the outside, well beyond the boundaries of this cliff face or even the surrounding villages.

‘Ah, Ravan,’ he murmured. ‘You seem to know when I most need your company.’ He waved and before long the bird had landed effortlessly on the ground, leaping almost immediately to Sergius’s shoulder. ‘You’re such a show-off,’ he accused, stroking the bird as he walked into his hut.

Hello, Sergius. Got some food for me?

‘No, wretched bird. You’re the one with the sharp eyes. You’ll have to hunt, I’m afraid.’

The hospitality’s not as good as it used to be
, Ravan complained mildly.

Sergius chuckled. ‘Arriving unannounced, you must have some news?’ he enquired eagerly.

I do. Troubling it is, too
.

‘Oh? Come in, come in. Do you need some water?’

I can’t stay.

Sergius frowned. His friend sounded uncharacteristically nervous. ‘What bothers you, Ravan?’

Piven.

‘Ah. Now fifteen anni. Is he giving Greven some grief? It’s to be expected in a lad of his age.’

Ravan hopped onto the familiar table so his friend could sit down and look at him at close range.
Grief? Yes, you could call it that.

‘Why didn’t you just talk to me via the seam?’

I didn’t want to risk it. I think I shield my thoughts better when I am far away from him.

‘Loethar?’ Sergius asked.

No. Piven.

‘What do you mean?’

Piven is changing. I’ve sensed that for a long time and I seem to be in tune with his moods. Lately he’s been plunging into a darkness I can’t really describe other than to say it feels like evil.

Sergius frowned. ‘Evil? I don’t understand.’

Neither do I, fully. But I feel it. And he and I have always been connected.

‘You’ve always felt connected to Loethar too.’

I still do. I’m connected to both of them, but in different ways. With Loethar I feel it’s my duty is to be a friend to him. With Piven, it’s different. I am drawn to him. And then there is another
.

‘Leonel is—’

No, Sergius. While I was glad to help Leo and his injured friend to get assistance from Lily and Greven, I don’t feel connected to the Valisar king in the same way as I do to Piven, nor did I feel it for his father. Helping Leo in the forest seemed the right thing to do, yet I never understood why I helped Loethar’s enemy.

‘Tell me the news,’ Sergius suggested. ‘You seem troubled.’

I am. I felt Piven’s spirits plummet and I went in search of him. I found him easily enough, running towards a village that was suffering a fire in one of its store barns.

Sergius looked puzzled. ‘Alone?’

He’d left Greven behind on a small ridge, having just healed him of what I later learned was a sickness of the heart.

Sergius shook his head in wonder. ‘He’s amazing. So what happened with the fire?’

Piven gave back life.

‘What?’ Sergius exclaimed, frowning deeply.

We’ve known for a while now that he can restore health.

‘But you said he restored a life.’

By the conversation I can only assume that two lives were lost to the fire, a man and a boy. Both came back from death
.

‘You mean from the brink of death…that he healed them?’

No, I mean he gave them life when they were newly dead
.

Sergius stood and paced, digesting this revelation. ‘You’re sure?’

Only of what I heard. And what I then witnessed. And later what I experienced.

Sergius’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowed. ‘Tell me everything!’

He listened in awed silence as Ravan recalled what had happened in the forest, from the moment he alighted on the branch to the moment Piven attacked Greven.

‘An aegis?’ Sergius said finally. ‘Truly?’

Tell me about an aegis.

Sergius rubbed his face in a gesture of excitement as much as fear. ‘An aegis, Ravan, is the ultimate champion. He…or she…can use magic to combat any aggression towards their bonded, and can shield the one to whom he is bonded from death or injury. But an aegis is also a slave—he has no will of his own. Once trammelled they have inordinate strength and can be commanded to use that strength against another.’

And they have no choice in the matter, I’m guessing.

Sergius shook his head. ‘None at all, which is why an aegis will hide his true nature with great care. I’ve not actually seen one in action. Cyrena granted Cormoron that for every Valisar heir born, so would be an aegis. Not necessarily at the same time either—some are older, some are younger. Finding your own aegis is like looking for a needle in a haystack. Even though they are always born in relatively close proximity to their Valisar, they hide their true nature with great effect. For the most part these people are born and die without being bonded, without ever having to tap into the power that is only fully available to them once they are joined through magic to a Valisar. The bonding process is called trammelling and it is repulsive.’

Why are there so many hurdles to the process?

Sergius shrugged. ‘Well, I suppose that even though Cyrena wanted to protect the Valisar line, she also knew the bonding is life-changing for an aegis. She put controls in place to ensure the Valisar would really need to trammel someone in order to do it. You’ve witnessed it; you understand why. Greven is now owned. He has no control over his own desires. He is compelled to protect Piven whether or not he wants to. Whatever Piven suffers, so does Greven—but not vice versa. It’s a life of slavery but so much worse because the last frontier of privacy is invaded…one’s own will.’

I watched Piven command Greven to kill a man called Clovis, who I recall from the palace. He did so without question, although I can assure you he suffered badly for it.

Sergius looked shocked. ‘What do you mean? What did he say?’

He didn’t say anything.

Sergius frowned. ‘Then how do you know?’

Ravan shifted, cleaning his beak on the table.
I tasted his flesh,
he finally said, reluctantly.

‘You ate part of Greven?’ Sergius groaned, disbelief mingling with revulsion.

I felt compelled to
.

‘By what?’ Sergius demanded, still repulsed. Standing, he angrily began preparing a herbal tea.

By Piven
, Ravan said calmly.

Sergius swung around and regarded the raven. ‘He controls you, too?’

No, Sergius, I promise you. Our bond is not like the bond between him and Greven. But it is a strong connection all the same. Forgive me for tasting Greven.

Sergius softened. ‘And you think they killed Clovis because they didn’t want him telling anyone that Piven was alive?’

It was more than that. I told you, Piven is changing.

‘You’ve lost me,’ Sergius admitted, frowning as he poured the boiled water into a large mug. Immediately a fragrance of herbs filled the room.

There are two things I have to tell you. The first is that since tasting Greven, I can now talk to both him and Piven
.

‘Like the seam that we use?’

Yes
.

A thrill of shock passed through Sergius. ‘What did they say?’

I think they were more surprised to hear my voice in their minds than the other way around. I didn’t linger because Clovis had arrived
.

‘So you didn’t see them kill him?’

No, but I heard it all unfold.

‘Can you hear them now?’

If I wanted to, I suppose. But only if Piven wants me to, also.

‘Why do you think Piven encouraged you to share Greven with him?’

Ah, that’s something I don’t fully understand. It probably has to do with the second detail I want to tell you about.

‘Go on.’

Piven is turning bad.

‘Explain bad.’

I saw darkness within him. Piven is far cleverer than any of us have ever imagined and he has probably long suspected that a magical bird
doesn’t just come along for no reason. He must assume that I am around him for a reason and that I don’t communicate only with him.

‘He knows about me?’ Sergius asked, aghast.

No. He presumes by my comings and goings that I go back to Loethar. He is not interested in that, I don’t think. But I think he needed a witness to the trammelling. He needs a witness to this change. I know from my glimpse into him that he fights this darkness with all his being.

‘Ravan, assure me he can’t eavesdrop on this conversation.’

I would know if he were listening. He is not. He cannot, because I can shield myself. He doesn’t take care to shield his thoughts from me. That’s my very point; he wants me to know what he is thinking.

‘This darkness you speak of. What is it? What do you see?’

Evil. As he explained to Greven, for every good deed he does, or tries to do, for all the goodness in his soul, there is a debt of darkness. And as he uses his power to give aid, the healing power that leaves him is exchanged by the gloom of evil.

Sergius frowned and sank his chin onto his cupped hands. ‘As goodness moves out, darkness moves in?’

That’s it. That’s almost exactly what he was trying to say.

‘When did this begin?’

I told you, he experienced that sort of awakening when Brennus died. I know that from the day Greven found him Piven could actually make out my call. He turned toward me that day in the woods. I know he recognised me, walked toward me. And everything about him started improving from then. He started healing birds and animals a few years after he left the palace, and even though he’s only been using his power in small ways, every time his efforts to give or improve life have been repaid with the shadows that have lengthened over him. When he’s in a bad mood, milk sours, herbs die

even water tastes bitter.

‘Do you know where his power came from?’

I just assumed it was wild—like the Vested
.

Sergius said nothing, sipping his tea quietly, but he watched Ravan closely as the bird continued to move through his thoughts.

But an aegis doesn’t make sense for Piven
, the raven finally said, sounding exasperated.

Sergius nodded. ‘As you know, there is an aegis born for each Valisar, and now Piven is—’

Wait! Wait!
Ravan said, swooping now around the table.

Sergius pursed his lips. ‘That took longer than I thought it would.’

No! That can’t be!
Ravan paused, then he hopped to stare at Sergius.
Why didn’t you tell me?

Sergius sighed. ‘Because, while I suspected it, I didn’t know for sure until you mentioned trammelling Greven.’

How did they hide it?

‘The Valisars are all about secrets and there was no better practitioner of secrets than King Brennus. He had no magical endowment to speak of that I knew of, but he more than made up for it with his shadowy plans and plottings…this is another of his masterstrokes.’

Piven is Valisar!

‘Indeed, or Greven would simply be a very angry man without a hand.’

He’s a true heir?

‘Yes, I’m astonished to say he is. I imagine Brennus would have been distraught, after all the trouble he must have gone to to keep Piven’s birth a secret, for his son to be so disabled.’

Why do that in the first place?

Sergius shook his head. ‘For all his lacking in magic, Brennus was more Valisar than any other I’ve known since Cormoron. He took his duty as sovereign deeply seriously—perhaps it’s his lack of magic that drove him to make up for it in other ways. He must have forced Iselda to give birth to Piven in secret as a form of protection. Now I think of it, they said Iselda lost a baby son and very soon after, as a means of helping her to get over yet another death, she adopted the newborn Piven.’

How devious
.

‘It is, but history has proven his actions to be well advised. In keeping Piven’s true identity a secret, no one but us—outside of the boy himself and Greven—know who he is. Loethar wanted to kill all the Valisars. We know he would have, given the chance. He spared Piven only because he was adopted, and his simpleton status no doubt helped. Does the boy look like a Valisar?’

Ravan pondered this.
He’s dark and doesn’t look much like Leo. I don’t think he resembles Brennus, though. If anything, he could be Loethar’s son.

Sergius waved a hand. ‘I just wondered why no one had picked a resemblance previously but then again when you’re not looking for the resemblance you can be fooled. Either that or Piven takes after ancestors no one has seen. Cormoron possessed dark, brooding features.’

So no one but Brennus and the queen knew.

‘Well, that can’t be right. They would have needed at least one other ally. A wet nurse, presumably, someone to take care of the baby until they contrived to stumble upon him and bring him back to the palace.’

What about Freath?

‘He gave no sign of knowing, did he?’

Not that I could ever tell.

‘Knowing Brennus, I imagine he would have shared this secret with only the people who needed to know. Perhaps Freath was only privy to the journey the heavily pregnant Iselda took but not its outcome.’

BOOK: Tyrant's Blood
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