Royal Exile. Fiona McIntosh. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Fiona McIntosh
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Героическая фантастика
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780007287826
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      Vyk swooped down to stand by the corpse as the door pushed open and a woman stepped through. ‘Am I interrupting, Loethar? Ah, I see it’s all over.’

      ‘Would it matter if you were?’

      She smiled, slow and familiar, as she crossed the room, not at all fazed by the large bird or its warning caw at her approach. ‘I thought this too important to wait on. Being this close to Penraven, news travels fast.’

      ‘And?’

      ‘One of my spies in the city tells me that a death knell has been sounding for hours. Double shock for the people — you on one side of the walls and a royal death on the other.’ She laughed.

      Loethar’s eyes narrowed. ‘Who? Surely not Brennus.’

      ‘No one’s ever said the man’s a coward. I doubt he’d kill himself to prevent your having the pleasure.’ She looked down at the dead king at her lover’s feet but her expression remained unchanged, unmoved by the sight of the decapitated royal. ‘But I have to wonder yet again why he didn’t try to dissuade you from your path.’

      ‘Because he’s been too comfortable wearing that all-powerful Valisar crown for too long. He believes in its invincibility. Only now might he be realising that I plan to teach him that even the Valisars can be toppled.’

      She gave him a wry glance. ‘You know the Penravians will flee by ship.’

      ‘Yes, I do, because you’ve already told me that much. It’s not the people I care about, Valya. It’s the Valisars.’

      ‘So all this death and destruction has been about Brennus,’ she said, baldly.

      ‘It always has been. Him and his offspring and those who support them.’

      None of the wryness had left her expression. ‘Just leave Cremond alone.’

      ‘I did. I don’t break promises. Do we know who’s dead in Penraven?’ he asked again.

      She shook her head. ‘It could be any of them, but my guess is it’s the queen.’ She turned and spat onto the corpse, surprising Loethar. He wasn’t sure whether she was disgusted by the Queen of Penraven or by the King of Barronel, or whether she’d actually intended to hit Vyk. Whichever it was, it was a gesture of genuine viciousness.

      ‘Why would it be the queen? Too frightened of what I might do to her?’ he asked.

      She ignored his query. ‘If they’ve got any sense they’ve already gone on one of their sumptuous royal schooners.’

      ‘He’s too proud to flee,’ Loethar replied.

      ‘I agree. The Valisars are stoic — even those who marry into the family. She would not lose face by taking her life. Don’t you see?’ She gave a rueful shrug. ‘I suspect the Valisar courage in the face of certain destruction will inspire their people.’

      ‘We’ll see how long that inspiration lasts when I have what I seek in my possession. Tell me why you think the queen is dead.’

      ‘Childbirth takes many victims,’ she said, her tone casual, disinterested.

      ‘Childbir—?’ he repeated, interrupting himself as the realisation dawned. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ His tone was threatening.

      ‘Sorry, did I fail to mention that the Penraven whore was spawning another brat? She is mother to the heir and also stepmother to a halfwit orphan she took pity upon. Now there is another who probably hasn’t survived birth. For you there’s only the eldest to worry about. I probably didn’t consider it important.’

      ‘You surprise me, Valya. I allow you to be my eyes and ears because you’re good at it but I expect you to tell me everything you learn. If you don’t, your skills are of no use to me, no matter how cunning your mind. I really should punish you,’ Loethar said, his mind already racing.

      ‘It doesn’t change anything,’ she countered, still sounding confident.

      ‘The news has ramifications.’

      ‘Not really. You plan to kill them all anyway, I assume.’

      ‘I don’t have any plan at this point,’ he reprimanded, ‘other than to watch Penraven’s famous walls be breached. Beyond that I shall wait and see.’

      ‘So, is this our new home?’ she asked, trailing her hand across a highly polished marble surface, the top to an elegant piece of furniture that had probably served as the king’s private dining table. ‘I rather like this — what an amazing colour it is.’

      He forced his anger to cool. This was not the moment to lose his temper. ‘The famed Barronel marble from the deep earth quarries in its Vagero Hills.’

      ‘Stunning,’ she said absently, already moving to study the books in the small library the king had kept on hand in his suite. Vyk followed, hopping behind her.

      ‘Yes, Barronel will be our base for the time being. Make yourself at home, Valya, but not in here,’ he cautioned.

      ‘Why?’ she asked, stopping her slow movement around the bookshelves.

      ‘You are not a king.’

      ‘Neither are you,’ she said lazily, but added, before he could reply, ‘you are an emperor in the making. You’d better get used to such surrounds and lay your own mark against it. No more caves and tents for you, Loethar.’

      ‘And although you are used to the finer things in life, may I suggest that you discover them in another quarter of the palace.’

      ‘Where will you be? Perhaps I could —’

      He cut her off. ‘I don’t know where I’ll be. I may travel to Penraven to get my first glimpse of the Valisar stronghold.’

      A knock at the door interrupted them. ‘Come,’ he said, tiredly, and a burly warrior, his face scarified and coloured with inks, entered, dragging a terrified child behind him. The girl was barely more than twelve summertides and was dressed in royal finery but Loethar noticed that her gown was torn, her face stained with tears.

      ‘Stracker said you asked for her, my lord,’ the man said gruffly in the language of the steppes.

      ‘I have changed my mind. Give her back to the mother.’

      ‘Already dead.’

      Loethar sighed, irritated. ‘Then send the girl to her god as well. Do it immediately, no pain, make it swift.’

      ‘In here?’ the man asked, surprised.

      The girl began to wail, having caught sight of the headless body that remained of her father.

      ‘No, not here,’ Loethar said slowly through gritted teeth. ‘Take her away and arrange for him to be removed as well.’ The man nodded. ‘And Vash, speak only in the language of the region now.’

      ‘Very good, my lord,’ he answered in perfect Set, exiting the room, dragging the screaming girl behind.

      Valya wore a look of disgust. ‘Oh, Loethar, were you really planning to amuse yourself with a child? Have you no conscience?’

      ‘About as much as you have,’ he replied.

      She laughed and he heard the false tone she tried to hide. ‘None, then.’

      ‘Precisely. What I actually do and what I want my men to think I do is something entirely different.’

      ‘Because if what you’re looking for is some companionship of the skin,’ she began flirtatiously.

      He blinked with irritation. ‘I’m looking to sleep,’ he said, cutting her off again. ‘Close the door behind you. Tell no one to disturb me unless it’s about who has died among the Valisar royalty. Otherwise I don’t anticipate hearing from anyone, including you, for the next six hours.’

      Loethar