Royal Exile by Fiona McIntosh Read Free Book Online Page B

swallowed the last mouthful. ‘Fine, but when we’re alone I want to be just Leo or dunderhead to you as I’ve always been.’ He pushed back the fringe of his sandy-coloured hair. ‘So is that all you know about the Valisar magic?’
    Gavriel thought he’d got away too easily on the previous conversation. ‘I know that it’s whispered about as the Valisar Enchantment. Your father told me only today in fact that it’s the magic that kills the females of his line. Whether they die in the womb, at birth or beyond it, none has survived more than an hour or so.’
    ‘Why? The magic is too powerful for them?’
    ‘Seems so.’
    ‘Or perhaps it chooses only the boys to live.’
    ‘Yes, more likely.’
    ‘My poor sister,’ Leo mused. ‘I’d like to have taught her how to shoot a catapult. Piven just can’t get it.’
    ‘Even if she had survived, Leo, I wonder whether your father could have risked her being found by Loethar.’
    The boy looked up, surprised. ‘You mean he’s pleased she’s dead?’
    ‘No,’ Gavriel hurried to say. ‘But I think I sensed that he felt relief that she could not be hurt by the barbarian.’
    ‘But why couldn’t my father have protected us all if she’d lived?’
    Gavriel shrugged. He too wasn’t sure about this. ‘I imagine because a baby is dangerous. It can give you away with a whimper if you’re hiding; it needs its mother and the kind of care that if we were on the run we couldn’t give. I think your sister’s death released your father from having to make that decision,’ he said, hating the lie as it treacherously left his lips. ‘I’m calling Morkom for your bath.’
    ‘But how is my father going to protect my little brother?’
    ‘I’m not sure. I’m not privy to that,’ Gavriel replied, utterly sure now that Piven would be ignored and left to Loethar’s discretion. No one wanted another child’s blood on his hands by killing Piven to save him from the barbarian.
    ‘I shall speak to him about Piven. Where is the king, do you know?’
    ‘I imagine he’s at the barracks. Our army is going to be facing the marauders soon. He’s probably doing his best to ensure their spirits are high, and their courage.’
    ‘What about ours?’
    ‘We’ll have to help each other.’ The words sounded prophetic as he said them. ‘And I think we have to get used to it.’
       
    Loethar licked the blade, enjoying the sensation of the metallic tanginess in his mouth. Blue blood. Regal blood. He could get drunk on it. He looked at Stracker. ‘Impale him and all the family in the central square. That should reinforce who now controls Barronel and loosen a few tongues as to where any of the Vested may be.’
    ‘I presume you want a spectacle made of the rest of the family?’
    ‘Cross them. That always humbles an audience. And don’t hasten their deaths. No mercy.’
    Stracker nodded, glancing at the enormous raven sitting on the back of Loethar’s chair.
    ‘I want sorcerers, witches, wizards — call them whatever you will, they’re all the same to me,’ Loethar continued. ‘But I want to know who the Vested are and where we can find them. Offer rewards, spread fear, use whatever tools necessary but I hunger for my knowledge. I must be fed.’ He grinned and the malevolence behind his words was heightened by the sight of his bloodstained teeth. He wiped his tongue along them, licking his lips at the residue of taste.
    ‘I shall see to it,’ Stracker said.
    ‘I plan to be alone tonight,’ Loethar added, then changed his mind. ‘Actually, send me up that cowering little princess. And have a barrel of wine brought up with her. Maybe it will help dull the sound of her shrieks.’
    Both men laughed. Once his Right had departed, the contrived smile froze on Loethar’s face. He was close now. Very close. He hoped the Penravians were suffering in their dreams with images of the havoc he was going to loose upon them. He hoped they had heard the stories of what he