rudely.
Gavriel knew that the Valisar family liked Freath but the manservant worked primarily for the queen and none of the De Vis family came into contact with him much. Gavriel had never fully warmed to the wintry, somehow superior, expression Freath wore most of the time. If he were honest, on the occasions he did come into contact with him, he found the man’s acute intellect unnerving.
‘I have no family, Master De Vis. The palace is my home, the royals are the people closest to me in the world.’
‘Indeed. Did the king tell you anything else?’
‘That I was to await your arrival and give you a message.’
Leo stepped forward. ‘What is it, Master Freath? Does he wish me to go to my mother?’
‘No, your highness. His message was rather cryptic. He wishes you to follow the plan, but not to leave as originally arranged. He believes the marauding barbarian to be far more cunning than we have given him credit for. We already know from his recent action against the legate that he has no honour whatsoever.’ Gavriel bristled. ‘Master de Vis, forgive me if I sound insensitive. The fact is your father is dead and nothing can be done to change that. Couple this with the fact that time is of the essence and you have a situation in which my words sound harsh … cruel, even.’
Gavriel clenched his jaw, unmoved by the hollow apology. ‘What are the king’s instructions for our crown prince, Freath?’
The queen’s aide straightened. ‘He suspects we are already surrounded. You cannot hear it down here but the fighting is fierce. Do not set foot out of Brighthelm.’
‘Did he tell you what we should do?’ Leo asked, aghast.
Freath shook his head, his expression grim. ‘I’m sorry, your highness,’ he said, looking only at Leo. ‘He seemed to think that you alone would know.’
Leo turned to Gavriel. ‘Let’s go.’
‘Where?’ Gavriel asked, feeling helpless. He ran a hand through his hair, glowering at Freath. ‘You’d better return to her highness.’
‘Oh, I intend to, Master De Vis, now that I’ve fulfilled this errand. Your highness,’ he bowed low, ‘may Lo light your path and keep you safe.’ At Gavriel he simply nodded as he pushed past them. Gavriel mumbled a curse under his breath at the aide’s tall, narrow frame.
‘Come on!’ Leo urged. ‘We have to go back into the castle.’
‘You know if we do that we’ll be trapped. There’s nowhere to hide indefinitely.’
Leo frowned. ‘There is a way out — it’s risky, a bit dangerous, too, but we have no other choice.’
It didn’t sound very encouraging but Gavriel had nothing else to offer. He ran out after the youngster and behind him heard the main kitchen door smash open.
Gavriel felt a surge of panic break through the stupor he had begun to drift into. ‘Run!’ he growled.
6
Loethar felt a pulse running through his body that he could liken only to the flashes of awakening that the sky experienced from time to time during a storm. Although he showed little in his expression, he was elated to finally have his prize in front of him: the King of Penraven, 8th of the arrogant, powerful Valisars that had ruled the region and virtually controlled the Set for centuries. He smiled at Vyk, who was awkwardly hopping around the king.
‘Hurry up, Loethar,’ Brennus said testily, as though bored with a game. He ignored the raven that now flew to sit on the barbarian’s shoulder.
Loethar certainly admired the man’s composure. It was true, he was prolonging this, savouring the moment he’d dreamed about from angry childhood into bitter adulthood. ‘Forgive my amusement. I expected someone tall and imposing. Instead, here you stand, not so far off my own age I’m guessing, of unimpressive height, with no distinctive features.’
Brennus returned the marauder’s stare with defiance but also bafflement. ‘Let’s get on with it, shall we?’
‘Are you so tired of life, Brennus?’
‘I’m tired of
Gavriel knew that the Valisar family liked Freath but the manservant worked primarily for the queen and none of the De Vis family came into contact with him much. Gavriel had never fully warmed to the wintry, somehow superior, expression Freath wore most of the time. If he were honest, on the occasions he did come into contact with him, he found the man’s acute intellect unnerving.
‘I have no family, Master De Vis. The palace is my home, the royals are the people closest to me in the world.’
‘Indeed. Did the king tell you anything else?’
‘That I was to await your arrival and give you a message.’
Leo stepped forward. ‘What is it, Master Freath? Does he wish me to go to my mother?’
‘No, your highness. His message was rather cryptic. He wishes you to follow the plan, but not to leave as originally arranged. He believes the marauding barbarian to be far more cunning than we have given him credit for. We already know from his recent action against the legate that he has no honour whatsoever.’ Gavriel bristled. ‘Master de Vis, forgive me if I sound insensitive. The fact is your father is dead and nothing can be done to change that. Couple this with the fact that time is of the essence and you have a situation in which my words sound harsh … cruel, even.’
Gavriel clenched his jaw, unmoved by the hollow apology. ‘What are the king’s instructions for our crown prince, Freath?’
The queen’s aide straightened. ‘He suspects we are already surrounded. You cannot hear it down here but the fighting is fierce. Do not set foot out of Brighthelm.’
‘Did he tell you what we should do?’ Leo asked, aghast.
Freath shook his head, his expression grim. ‘I’m sorry, your highness,’ he said, looking only at Leo. ‘He seemed to think that you alone would know.’
Leo turned to Gavriel. ‘Let’s go.’
‘Where?’ Gavriel asked, feeling helpless. He ran a hand through his hair, glowering at Freath. ‘You’d better return to her highness.’
‘Oh, I intend to, Master De Vis, now that I’ve fulfilled this errand. Your highness,’ he bowed low, ‘may Lo light your path and keep you safe.’ At Gavriel he simply nodded as he pushed past them. Gavriel mumbled a curse under his breath at the aide’s tall, narrow frame.
‘Come on!’ Leo urged. ‘We have to go back into the castle.’
‘You know if we do that we’ll be trapped. There’s nowhere to hide indefinitely.’
Leo frowned. ‘There is a way out — it’s risky, a bit dangerous, too, but we have no other choice.’
It didn’t sound very encouraging but Gavriel had nothing else to offer. He ran out after the youngster and behind him heard the main kitchen door smash open.
Gavriel felt a surge of panic break through the stupor he had begun to drift into. ‘Run!’ he growled.
6
Loethar felt a pulse running through his body that he could liken only to the flashes of awakening that the sky experienced from time to time during a storm. Although he showed little in his expression, he was elated to finally have his prize in front of him: the King of Penraven, 8th of the arrogant, powerful Valisars that had ruled the region and virtually controlled the Set for centuries. He smiled at Vyk, who was awkwardly hopping around the king.
‘Hurry up, Loethar,’ Brennus said testily, as though bored with a game. He ignored the raven that now flew to sit on the barbarian’s shoulder.
Loethar certainly admired the man’s composure. It was true, he was prolonging this, savouring the moment he’d dreamed about from angry childhood into bitter adulthood. ‘Forgive my amusement. I expected someone tall and imposing. Instead, here you stand, not so far off my own age I’m guessing, of unimpressive height, with no distinctive features.’
Brennus returned the marauder’s stare with defiance but also bafflement. ‘Let’s get on with it, shall we?’
‘Are you so tired of life, Brennus?’
‘I’m tired of
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