Evie had recovered to some degree but she was still looking very ashen. Corbel sat in the dust with her and the two nuns, all of them staring in shock at the cloisters the pair of newcomers had used as their escape.

“What just happened?” Corbel wondered aloud.

“That man,” Evie said shakily. “Who was he?”

The Abbess shook her head, her hand covering her heart. “I don’t think I can take much more of these events. Those were two men I’ve known for a number of years. I’ve only ever known them as Heremon and Beven, wealthy men who donate to the convent frequently. They have called upon us now and then when passing through the northeast. But today they were using different names.”

“What happened to you, Evie?” Corbel asked.

“I . . . I can’t really say. I was examining him. I lifted his shirt,” she said, frowning as she recalled the events. “I wanted to check for swelling in his ab—” She glanced at the Abbess. “In his belly. As I touched him this immense sensation overwhelmed me.” She stood. “I have to see him again.”

“What? No!” Corbel said, holding her back.

She shook him free. “Let me go. You don’t understand. I need him. I have to see him. I have to talk to him. I have to . . . have to . . .” Her face creased in frantic confusion. “He is mine to bond with,” she said, her expression telling Corbel that she hardly understood what she was saying.

He reached for her but she was gone, lifting her skirt and running after them.

“Corbel, what is happening here?” the Abbess demanded.

“I don’t have even the slightest clue,” he said, and then he took off too, his long strides easily hunting down Evie, disappearing into the dark of the cloisters.

Kilt had regained his wits but still felt very weak and ill.

“Who was it?” he struggled, his breath coming in shallow gasps. “Which Valisar?”

“A young woman,” Jewd replied. “How is that possible? You’re sure this is the Valisar magic?”

“Have you ever seen me behave like this other than in front of Loethar?”

Jewd dragged him into what looked to be a small storeroom. “She and that man are hardly going to leave us alone, then. Think, Kilt, you’re our hatcher of plans. You’re going to need a good one to get us out of this situation.”

Kilt looked around. He was slumped on the floor of a room containing fruit—mainly apples—that the convent obviously stored through the Freeze. Stocks were low by this time of the year and the apples looked very old and brownish.

“Smells nice,” he remarked.

“Don’t you dare start to joke around now. This is serious, Kilt. If that’s who we think it is, then she—just like Loethar or Leo—has the ability to trammel you.”

“I know, I know, it’s just that the smell has made me want a cider. I’m parched.”

“Stay parched. Think, damn you!”

“Bad news, Jewd.”

“What now?”

“The sickness is returning. She must be coming close again. Tell her to stay back or I’ll kill myself,” he said, dragging a dagger from a strap around his thigh. “She’ll believe it. Because if I’m feeling this, so is she. Go, tell her. I need distance to think. Get her away so I—” He couldn’t finish; overcome by the presence of the Valisar royal approaching, he began to retch.

Jewd stepped out of the storeroom.

*  *  *

Corbel had caught up with her. “Evie.”

“I can’t stop, I’m sorry. I don’t—”

The big man, Jewd, stepped out of the shadows. He had an arrow levelled at Evie, his bow pulled taut. “Stop!” he said in the most reasonable of voices.

Corbel grabbed Evie. “Wait!” he yelled, trying to keep Evie still as she pushed against him.

“Get her away.”

“All right, all right. Please. Do not loose your arrow.”

“Then start moving.”

Corbel wearied of Evie’s struggles and picked her up in a bear-hug. It was easy enough. None of her protests were effective, simply irritating.

“Keep going,” Jewd warned.

“We need to talk,” Corbel said.

“There’s nothing to discuss. We’re not sticking around for a chat. I’ll fight our way out if I have to,” Jewd threatened.

“My sword’s ready any time you want to take it on,” Corbel said. He shook Evie. “Be still now!”

He’d never spoken to her like that ever and she instantly obeyed, looking almost perplexed as she regarded him.

“You reckon you’re better than me and my arrows?”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“You’re very cocky,” Jewd snarled.

“You have a Penraven accent. Are you from there?”

“Why? Do you think you know my aunty?”

Corbel smiled without humor. “Does the name de Vis mean anything to you?”

Jewd lowered the bow slightly. He looked suddenly unsure.

“I am Regor de Vis’s son, Corbel. I thought it worth mentioning only so you know my fighting pedigree.”

The bow lowered even more. “You are lying.”

“It’s an outrageous lie if I am. Why would I lie about that? Why would I gamble on anything but the truth?”

“Because, Corbel, I happen to know your brother.”

“Gavriel? Where is he?”

“Congratulations on knowing his name. Now I’m really convinced. Hey, Kilt. Everything’s fine,” he yelled theatrically. “Apparently Gavriel’s brother Corbel is out here and we’re all going to be friends.”

Evie began to struggle again. “I must see that man, I need to—”

Corbel scowled. “Give me a moment, will you?” he said to Jewd, and turned to Evie. “Your majesty, I’m going to ask for your most sincere forgiveness.”

“Why?” she said angrily, trying to twist away from his grip.

Corbel pulled her close and, reaching nimble fingers around her neck, he muttered, “For doing this.”

Evie collapsed and he caught her, laying her gently at his feet. He looked up. “We don’t have long.” Before Jewd could speak, he undid his sword belt, removed all his weapons and threw them to one side. “I’m unarmed. I need to talk to you.”

Jewd looked surprised.

“I don’t understand what’s happening but it seems to me that you do. Now I’ve told you the truth about who I am. Do you really know my brother?”

“Yes. I saw him only days ago, in fact.”

Corbel gave a nervous sigh that came out almost as a bleat.

“But you must be lying. Gavriel is not yet thirty anni. You look well past that.”

Corbel nodded sadly. “It’s a long story and it involves the Valisars, as I suspect you have guessed.”

“What makes you say that?”

“If you know my brother you know of our connection to the former royals.”

“And current ones.”

Corbel frowned but before he could reply Evie began to stir.

“Tell me that isn’t the Valisar princess,” Jewd said.

Corbel hesitated. If Jewd and his friend were already aware of Evie’s presence perhaps they were not enemies. And if they were, there was no point in keeping up the pretense. He sighed. “I would have to lie to you, then,” he replied.

Jewd rolled his eyes and dropped all tension on the bow’s string. “Lo damn you!” he cursed.

Corbel wasn’t ready for this. “I don’t understand.”

“You have to get her away from Kilt.”

“What do you mean? And be quick—you have to explain to me what’s going on before she wakes up or we’re going to be right back where we started.”

“In a nutshell, then.” Jewd pointed at Evie. “That’s the Valisar princess, hungry for her aegis. In there,” he pointed, “is my closest friend for the past thirty-six anni. He is an aegis. But she’s having him for dinner only over my dead body. Do we understand one another?”

Corbel frowned. “No.”

Jewd took a step toward him.

“Wait, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would she want to eat him? Who is he to her? I didn’t even understand the word you used. Ayjess? What’s that?”

“Do you jest?”

Corbel shook his head. “Can we just sit down and—”

“No more talking, de Vis. Your brother’s thrown his lot in with Leo and is hunting my friend. Loethar wants him too and now she does also. You can all go and—” He stopped. “What’s so funny?”

“Behind you.”

Jewd never had the opportunity to discover what Corbel meant. Barro hit him so hard with a club of timber that the big man fell like a stone.

“That was fun,” Barro admitted.

“I thought you’d never come.”

“The Abbess found me and pointed me in the right direction. Though I’ll admit I didn’t understand most of what she was muttering.”

Evie was coming to fully. Corbel knew he had to move fast. “Barro, I need you to do something for me. It means defying the princess and whatever orders she gives you.”

“Why?”

“I’ll explain everything later. But right now we need lots of rope.”

*  *  *

Later, with Jewd tied up but his head being seen to by the nuns of the apothecary, and Evie equally restrained and behind a locked door, Corbel finally entered the storeroom to confront Kilt Faris. The outlaw was sitting up, and though he looked dazed he certainly had his wits about him.

“Corbel de Vis, I presume?”

“Correct.”

“Even if I hadn’t heard who you were, just looking at you tells me who your father is. And there’s no doubting who your reckless brother is either.”

“I’m the handsome one,” Corbel said dryly.

Kilt gave a tired chuckle. “So I’m now your prisoner?”

He shook his head. “I don’t need encumbrances.”

“Then you plan to give me to her?”

“Her name is Genevieve. Before I do anything I want you to explain everything to me.”

“Where is she?”

“Well away from you.”

“It can never be far enough. I can feel her presence. Her magic reaches through stone for me.”

“Then you need to be quick. I need to understand what we’re up against here.”

Kilt shook his head. “Where have you been?”

Corbel slid down the wall to sit opposite him. “A long way away for a long time.”

“Then I have a long story for you.”

“Lo, I’m parched. Is it me or does this make you want to swallow a cider?”

Kilt laughed. “I’ll tell you everything I know.”

All of Leo’s nerves were on edge. He was desperate to feel even the slight giveaway tingle that might suggest he was in the presence of the Valisar magic. So far he’d been asked a series of questions by an older man who looked more like a civil servant than one of the barbarians. He’d explained that he was one of the former realm’s nobles. When his lands and assets had been seized by Loethar’s people he was given the choice of dying for his Crown or living for the new regime.

“I’d had a lot of disagreements with our sovereign anyway, and I wasn’t going to lose my family over what I had begun to believe actually had nothing to do with Barronel.” The man looked embarrassed as he said this, not meeting Leo’s eyes. “We were the innocents, caught up in the emperor’s bid to demonstrate to Penraven that he could crush and overrun any realm he chose. We were an example, you could say, that he set for Brennus’s interest.”

“How did you know?” Leo asked.

“There were a lot of rumors coming out of the Steppes that the young hot-headed new chieftain had some sort of personal vendetta with Brennus. But our king ignored the information and trusted Penraven because he was very thick with Brennus—trusted him implicitly—and it’s true the Valisar king had never even set foot on the plains.”

“But you believed it all the same.”

He shrugged and nodded. “One of the merchants who brought the information of the east was a man I knew and liked. He had no reason to lie. But mine was one small voice among too few, and because my disagreement with our own king was widely known about everyone thought I was being affected by that.”

“But you fought,” Leo insisted, quite convinced he would kill the man with his stylus if he said he’d given up on that as well.

“Of course I fought!” he said indignantly. “I was loyal to the Crown, even though our General Marth believed we were getting involved in a hopeless war, one that Barronel could not win. In the end our king surrendered, which was the right thing to do, given the circumstances. Our soldiers had been massacred. I lost all my sons. My wife was never the same. I think she eventually died of heartbreak rather than a sick heart as the physic declared.”

“Well, I suppose you’re happy that Ormond lost his life.”

“No! Not at all and certainly not in the way his body was defiled. Ormond wasn’t a bad man; he was even a good and beloved king. His ties to Brennus were perfectly natural and I’d be lying if I didn’t say our realm benefited hugely from their friendship. But he was blind to the truth and made errors in judgment. His best decision was to surrender.” He sighed. “Such old history. Forgive an older man his indulgence.”

“Not at all, sir. We are all in much the same boat.”

“Alas, you don’t have your freedom, young man. I hear you offered yourself up. What’s in your head?”

“It was getting tedious staying on the run and living wild.” He shrugged. “At least now someone will feed, clothe and keep me warm. It’s no longer my problem.”

The man gave a nod of surprised agreement. “I suppose that is a way of regarding your situation.”

“What happened to General Marth?”

“He was murdered by Stracker’s mob, despite the surrender. It was a terrible time. All of Ormond’s family was slaughtered.”

“But here you are working for the barbarians,” Leo remarked.

“I often daydream of breaking free of their shackles. The problem is the empire is prospering and people seem content with Loethar’s rule.”

“Except here,” Leo said.

“Yes, except here. Though most of the Vested are quite helpless there are also a few who think themselves militant.”

“Really?”

The man nodded. “There’s a woman called Reuth who never lets the rest of the Vested forget what has happened to them. Both her husbands have been killed—the first in the initial wave of interest in the Vested, and then her second not so long ago actually. Her losses keep the fire in her belly well stoked, as I’m sure you can imagine. Actually Reuth’s a good person for newcomers like yourself to talk to—she’s full of help. Look out for her.”

“I will,” Leo said. “Are we almost finished here?”

“Just about. We have all the details you’ve given us and at some stage we do look into them but your next stage is to be tasted by Master Vulpan. It’s revolting but it seems to work and it’s all over quickly so don’t be too unnerved by it.”

“Vested turned viper. His name suits him.”

“Indeed, but don’t say that too loud. I’ve just got one last question to ask you. What magic do you claim to possess?”

“Well, it’s a strange one, I’ll grant you—and not that much use in an everyday way—but I suspect the authorities will be intrigued. I’m connected in a curious magical way to royalty and those who rule.”

The man’s head flew up, his expression shocked. “What?”

“Yes, I feared that reaction.”

“Explain yourself.”

Leo feigned embarrassment. “Look, it’s hard to explain but they say the heir to the throne—Leonel, is that his name?”

The man nodded dumbly.

“They say he disappeared ten anni ago.”

“All believe him dead.”

“Quite. Well, I know he’s not. He’s alive and has been hiding out in Penraven for all of the time. I don’t really know where but I see him in my dreams all the time. The forest I think is where I saw him last.”

“You see him?”

Leo nodded, helplessly enjoying the man’s look of bafflement. “I hear him talk too. He talks about killing the emperor.”

“Lo, strike me!”

“And I think there was another member of the family that was an invalid.”

The man nodded. “The youngest son. He was adopted. Not really Valisar but,” he shrugged, “he was very popular I gather. A charming sort of child from what I heard. A sort of smiling idiot you could say, but a very sweet boy.”

“And everyone believes he too disappeared.”

“Perished is probably more to the point. He was just a little boy of around five anni when he disappeared, wandered off into the woodland near the palace. I mean, his parents were dead, brother gone; no one was really looking after him I suppose and I doubt very much whether anyone cared anyway.”

“I shall shock you again, sir. He is alive. And far from an invalid.”

The man stared at him with a narrowed gaze, an angry set to his mouth. “Oh, this is preposterous.”

Leo shrugged. “He was taken south. He’s now very able and also very keen on the throne.”

“Is this some kind of a joke? Because if so Vulpan will soon see through—”

“No joke at all, sir. I’m deadly serious. The emperor should be made aware of it.”

“Oh I doubt very much whether the emperor would be at all frightened by this . . . this frankly unbelievable news of yours. And in any case he is very well protected. He has an army behind him. Look around you, Cadryn. These are all loyal soldiers. No one can touch him.”

“Is that so? Then I’m not sure how you explain that the emperor has gone missing, captured in the forest.”

“Young man, you are—”

“I’m telling you only what I see. You asked me my magic. This is it. I see the Valisars and those closely connected to them. Check the facts if you don’t believe me, sir. I think if you ask in the right circles you may find some embarrassed answers from the emperor’s men. I’ll bet no one knows where exactly he is right now and that will be because I know he has been captured by a Davarigon.”

“You’ve seen this?”

Leo nodded. “As clear as I see you sitting before me, sir. He is her prisoner.”

“Hers!”

“Yes, sir, a woman.”

“Wait! You said you dreamed about Valisars. Why do you dream about Loethar?”

“Because he rules,” he said evasively. “And by the way, if anyone is looking for Gavriel de Vis—that is, the son of Regor de Vis, deceased Legate to our former king—they’ll find him probably traveling in cohorts with the Davarigon.”

“Right,” the man said, standing abruptly. “You are coming with me. As much as I want to, I can’t ignore this news.”

“Well, actually you can, sir.”

The man paused, suspicious. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You can write down anything you like as regards my magic. Is your blood taster here?”

The man shook his head. “He’s in Penraven.”

“Then we’re in no immediate hurry. I have time.”

“Time to what?”

“General Marth, do you really think you could keep up this disguise?”

The man sat down again, looking around fearfully. “Keep your voice down. What did you just say?”

“You heard me. I must admit I never for a moment thought I’d have a stroke of luck like this.”

“Young man, I think you’ve made a mistake.”

“No, sir, I have not. I have a perfect memory for faces and you are General Marth of Barronel. How you have kept this a secret from the invaders must make a good story.”

“I don’t recognize you at all. Should I?”

“You should, yes, but I doubt you could. I was perhaps ten when I was presented to you.”

“Presented?”

“Yes, general, at Brighthelm, during one of the gatherings of the Set. All the royals brought their closest aides, their families. If Loethar had done his homework properly, he would have known far less blood needed to be shed if he’d simply struck one of these lavish occasions. He could have killed all the royals of all the realms in one fell swoop.”

“And what were you in the palace? A page, a messenger, a stablehand, what?”

Leo laughed. “No, sir. I was attached to the royal retinue.”

“One of that man Freath’s team, eh?”

“He was one of mine, more like.”

The general blinked.

“I shall put you out of your misery because time is against us. I am Leonel, true Valisar King of Penraven.”

The man stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Close your mouth, sir. We don’t want to attract attention, now do we? I can prove it; ask me anything about the Valisar household. I was privy to a lot of my father’s private information, the sort he would have shared with King Ormond.”

The general couldn’t help himself. “There was a pact—a plan that went to hell it seems once the barbarian horde struck. It was between Ormond and Brennus. What was it called?”

Leo nodded. “Their code for it was Biramay—after the sweet dessert liquor they were both partial to but one needed an acquired taste for. I myself loathe it.”

The general’s eyebrow arched. “What was the name of the horse Brennus gifted to Ormond at the birth of his third child?”

Leo frowned. “Frolic . . . er no, forgive me, that was for his second. It was Nightmoon. I chose the name,” he said, shrugging.

Marth sat back and regarded Leo somberly. “Something happened in their childhood—as princes—that made Ormond and Brennus special friends. Very few people know.”

“I do, sir. There was a picnic in Barronel. The royal children were playing on the lake near the palace. They were forbidden to take out a boat but they defied their minders. There were three of them. Your king, my father and another high ranking noble’s child—a daughter I seem to recall. The boat capsized. Ormond was a good swimmer and saved my father’s life but they never spoke of it outside the immediate families because he chose to save my father over the child of Barronel, who drowned.”

The general nodded, looking stunned. “This is just not possible.”

“I think I’ve just proven it is.”

“But why have you decided to declare yourself now?”

“That really is a tall tale, sir. But in short, when Leothar conquered the Set I was child. I had to wait to grow up before I could make a real challenge. And now everything I’ve told you about Loethar is true. He has been taken. The empire is now being run by Stracker, except no one probably realizes this yet, and I don’t think even Loethar would stomach that.”

“Absolutely not. I don’t think any of us would.”

“Us, sir?”

“Those of us who have learned to accept Loethar’s rule. The people.”

Leo smiled. “Well, why don’t you do some digging around to see that the new information I’ve given you is true. In the meantime can you make it possible for me to roam the compound?”

Marth looked back at him quizzically.

“You know: meeting the others here, getting to know all the different areas. I’m actually looking for people I might have known once. I’m sure the person you mention—Reuth—could help.”

The former general looked relieved, Leo knew, because his request sounded innocent enough. “Yes, of course. And I will see what I can discover. You are still an inmate of the compound er . . . Cadryn.”

“Of course. Calling me your majesty is probably a fraction presumptuous yet.”

Marth blinked uncertainly.

“General Marth,” and Leo paused as the man looked around, worried, “I won’t call you that again, I promise. I do understand that I am not your sovereign. But you need to keep in mind that you have no sovereign any longer. If all of Ormond’s immediate kin was slaughtered then a royal family exists no more. You might as well throw your support behind Barronel’s closest ally.”

“Who should have come to our aid when we cried out for it!” the older man growled.

“I understand why you might think that. But you must remember that it was war. I cannot know all that was going on in my father’s mind, but neither do I think I should be held responsible for his decisions. And I can assure you that our only chance to depose Loethar is through our union. If I can win back my throne, who is to say Barronel’s Crown cannot be reinstated through a distant family line, or Vorgaven’s, or Cremond’s?”

His companion snarled. “Cowards that they were!”

“Dregon, Gormand, then? Each realm has its own sorrows. We have to start somewhere. And right now you have a king sitting before you, not an heir. On my father’s death I assumed his crown. I watched him die, Marth. I knew from that moment I had become king and my right to rule has burned with a passion the same way that you describe Reuth’s belly still burning from the loss of her husbands. You’ve lost sons and a wife. It is surely worth their memory to at least undermine Loethar. Do you want to be remembered only as the man who surrendered to a barbarian?”

He watched the old soldier fight the emotion wrestling inside; his lips moved with his internal battle.

“Marth, my family sword has been buried for safekeeping not far outside the city’s entrance. Will that help convince you? That and the confirmation that Loethar is not available for any meetings, any orders, any form of communication?”

“You are not Vested, are you?” Marth asked with a heavy voice.

Leo smiled evasively. “I could be.”

It was clear Marth didn’t believe him but regardless he nodded as though resigned. “Tell me where to find the sword.”

“Give me that stylus. I will draw a map of where to find Faeroe. The rest is up to you.”

“All right, Cadryn, I will give you access to the whole compound. I’ll take your map. I’ll look into your claims. And I will find you. If any of this is a lie, you will disappear from this camp and it won’t be because you were allowed to walk out of it. You will be buried somewhere in an unmarked grave.”

Leo nodded. “So be it. But for now find me Reuth.”

Kilt looked back at Corbel gravely. “That’s the most outlandish tale I’ve ever heard. It would make an excellent bedtime story for childen.”

“Making fun is not—”

“I’m not making fun. I’m simply astonished at the breadth of Brennus’s vision and his cunning . . . but mostly his ruthlessness. I should no longer be surprised by the emerging Leo. Blood will out.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Simply that his desire to wear the former crown of Penraven outweighs all empathy. He is his father’s son.”

Corbel nodded. “I do not know Leo any more. I knew only the lad. But given what Brennus demanded of me I think we can safely say that the king was able to sacrifice empathy for what he believed was his duty as a Valisar. And still he was a good sovereign to his people.”

“I hate to say it but Loethar is better.”

Corbel’s head snapped up.

Kilt shrugged. “It’s true. If you had the time I’d make you canvass as many ordinary people as you cared to in any part of the old realms. I’d stake my life that almost all of them—peasant to merchant to noble—will say that life under Loethar’s rule has been good . . . better even than under Brennus.”

“How can you say that when he’s a barbarian? An impostor, a tyrant—”

Kilt held up a hand to stem the barrage, his tone patient. “Corbel, if you think your story had the capacity to shock, what I shall now reveal will stun you. It did me and I am not easily stunned.”

“Go on.”

“Loethar is no impostor. He is the first son of Darros and as much a Valisar as Brennus with, I might add, a far stronger claim on the throne than Brennus or Leo.”

Corbel stared at him, his face a mask. The silence lengthened.

“I am not lying to you,” Kilt continued. “I have no reason to.”

“How can you prove that?”

“You accept the Valisar magic? You’ve witnessed what happens to Genevieve . . . to me? I’ve explained to you all about my difficult relationship with Leo and I’ve given you as much as we know about the aegis magic.”

Corbel’s expression turned pensive, his voice sounding perplexed. “I’m coming to terms with it,” he said slowly. “There is no explanation for Evie’s behavior; she looked to be in some sort of pain and yet she couldn’t keep away from you.”

Kilt had regained enough of his composure to wink. “I’d like to claim it’s my irresistible charm or my dashing looks. Alas, though I do have both of those, it is the call of the magic that draws Genevieve to me. I can explain it only one way—it feels like a tortured rapture. It hurts more than I describe but you want more and more. If Jewd hadn’t dragged me away I would have just given myself to her.”

“Meaning?”

“She could have done whatever she wanted with me.”

“And it will always be like this between you?”

He nodded. “And any other untrammeled aegis, I suspect. I could resist Leo. His magic is all but not there; he never once suspected who I was although it still hurt me to be around him. But I quickly learned to cope and taught myself how to resist the magic’s pull. The princess is brimming with a magical force I have never encountered previously. I have no chance against her. I would simply drown in her magic.”

“You would let her maim you?”

“Not happily but willingly, if she is near enough.”

“But you and she were next to one another. How come she didn’t react? It was only when she touched you that her response began.”

Kilt frowned. “I can only put that down to her being taken away from this plane before her magic woke fully. Touching an aegis awakened it, I’d guess, like suddenly igniting a flame in a barn of straw.”

Corbel blew out his cheeks with a big sigh. “And so now you’re going to tell me that you have reacted the same way to Loethar.”

“I hate to be predictable but yes. My reaction to him was less hysterical, I suppose, than to the princess but it was the strongest I’ve ever felt. Even Brennus, all those years—his magic was very weak, like Leo. Anyway, that’s why I’m here and on the run. Loethar nearly had me in his clutch and Leo saw that and got the same idea.”

“And Gav’s with Leo,” Corbel said, thinking aloud.

“The last I saw.”

“We were called back through magic. Do you know what is expected of us?”

“I suppose only that fellow Sergius you’ve told me about can explain that. I can’t guess, other than for Genevieve to attempt a coup.”

“Putting Evie on the throne by force?”

Kilt shrugged. “I can’t imagine her father went to all the effort of hiding her simply because he was so in love with his hours-old daughter. He was very calculating, both as a man and as a ruler. So,” he sighed, “I suspect she was sent away to be kept safe, so that she could rule if her brother couldn’t. As a contingency.”

“She will not want the throne.”

“But you knew that before you returned. So I presume you don’t care what she wants. If you’re anything like your brother you’re all about duty.”

Corbel scowled at him. “That’s not how it is.”

“It is, de Vis,” Kilt said wearily. “You surely didn’t think being brought back meant there would be a parade and people flinging flowers for Genevieve to tread on all the way to her coronation, did you? Genevieve smiling indulgently as she is crowned beloved new queen?” He kept his tone kind although the words were sarcastic. “At the back of your mind you had to believe there was a fight waiting.”

Corbel gave an angry groan. “I don’t want her life threatened.”

Kilt made a soft scoffing sound. “And now you’re just deluding yourself. You knew from the moment she was given to you as a newborn that her life was threatened. But you weren’t emotionally attached to her then. Now you clearly are,” he said lightly. “It’s harder to risk someone you . . . care about.” He smiled. “And yet risk her you have because it is your sworn duty.”

“We were not living a real life. When I recognized the magic reach out and call to me I had to answer it. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Didn’t you?” Kilt broke the awkward pause that followed by hauling himself to his feet. “Lo, but I’m getting very weary of how this Valisar magic leaves me so helpless. I think I would happily kill all the Valisars myself if it meant ridding myself of this weakness . . . not that I can get within howling distance of them with a weapon.” He winked at Corbel. “Come on, de Vis. It’s no good moping. Something very strange was happening at Brighthelm a day or so ago and it involved the throne. We have to make some decisions. I think another Valisar has crept out of the woodwork.”

Corbel looked at him from where he still sat. “There isn’t one.”

“Well, I’m afraid that doesn’t wash at all. We didn’t know Loethar was Valisar, did we? And yet Valisar he is. No one knew that the princess was alive and well and capable of claiming the throne, and yet here she is. Leo has always spoken fondly of Piven and we don’t—”

“Piven?” Corbel shook his head and stood easily. “Piven was lost in his mind. He was a complete invalid. If it wasn’t for his mother he would have been kept on a leash or caged. It beggars belief that he didn’t kill him.”

“Indeed. But now we could hazard that he perhaps felt a vague family connection, especially as Leo tells us that Piven was so affectionate to Loethar. The boy was no threat, after all, clearly a helpless innocent.” Kilt flashed a wry glance at Corbel and his mouth twisted into a brief crooked grin. “Or was he? Has he got everyone fooled?”

“Impossible!” Corbel snapped.

“I’m telling you, de Vis. I have no control over how I respond to Valisar magic. And there was a Valisar in the square yesterday; it was a male and he wasn’t scared of anyone. He sounded like Leo, but younger. I can assure you it wasn’t Loethar.”

“It wasn’t Piven,” Corbel growled, but he no longer looked as sure.

Kilt gave a small shake of his head. “Fair enough, but if you follow that theory, you now have a fifth Valisar running around—a dangerous one, by the sounds of things. And he’s in the capital and he’s got an aegis already trammeled, from the little I could tell. That spells real trouble for everyone.”

“What do we do?”

Kilt had been thinking of nothing else since he regained his wits. “I need some time to think. Will you give me that?”

Corbel nodded, his expression somber.

“I’m going for a walk. I will not disappear, I give you my word,” he said, holding out a hand. Corbel took it. “Tell my large companion Jewd—who will likely be foaming at the mouth with rage—that I’m sorry and I’ll be back shortly.”

He left Corbel in the storeroom looking confused and staring at its contents.