King’s Wrath. Fiona McIntosh

‘I was surprised to find it, to be honest.’

      ‘You should burn the other one,’ Elka remarked.

      He nodded. ‘Dinch?’

      ‘I’ll pour it,’ she said, picking up a cloth to handle the pot. ‘Aren’t you frightened a spark will set off a fire while you’re out cold?’

      ‘Hasn’t happened yet and it may do me a favour.’

      She frowned as she poured the brew into the two beautiful, fragile cups she had found in the cupboard. ‘What about Badger?’

      ‘He’ll survive, won’t you, boy?’ Janus said, rubbing the dog’s head. ‘He’s not mine, to tell the truth. He just likes it here. If there’s no food in the offing, he goes off elsewhere. I have no idea who else feeds him but as you can see, he does just fine.’ He tooka sip from the cup she pushed towards him and sighed. ‘Well, it’s not a perfect Penraven brew, but it’s not bad at all. Thank you.’

      She gave him a soft glare. ‘How do you feel?’

      ‘Well, I know I’m not sober.’

      ‘You act as if you are.’

      ‘I’m a doctor. I should know. Anyway, I’m certainly lucid enough, so tell me about this patient of yours … the friend in need.’

      ‘He’s on the other side of Francham.’

      ‘That’s no answer.’

      ‘It’s all you’re getting.’

      ‘I see. So he must be someone either very important or someone that others might be looking for.’

      ‘Or both,’ she offered tartly.

      ‘Indeed. In fact, I would guess at both. But he’s not Davarigon?’

      She shook her head. ‘How much will you charge to come help him?’

      ‘That depends on what is required.’

      ‘Are you a surgeon?’

      His eyes flashed wide. ‘He’s that injured?’

      ‘Give me an amount, Janus. One that ensures your lips stay firmly shut.’

      He sipped his tea, blowing on it between sips. Finally, he said,'I’ll do it for free if you’ll show me your giant’s ti—’

      ‘Forget it!’ she bellowed. ‘You’re a waste of my time.’

      ‘Forgive me, Elka. That was outrageously impolite of me.’

      ‘You cover your mouth when you belch, you drink from fine porcelain and yet you live like a slob and your mind is even filthier. What kind of contradiction are you?’

      He nodded. ‘I deserve that. Again I ask for your forgiveness.’

      She gave him a look of disbelief mixed with disdain. ‘I don’t understand you.’

      ‘Now you know why I am considered worthless in this town.’

      ‘What happened?’

      He sighed, drained his cup. ‘I’ll have another please.’ As she poured, he looked down. ‘Have you heard of the sickness called “sullied tongue"?’

      She shook her head, frowning. ‘It sounds like a jest.’

      He nodded thoughtfully. ‘It is certainly an affliction that the gods had some fun with.’

      Elka caught on. ‘You have this problem?’

      ‘You’re fast. Yes. I am openly rude to people I least want to offend. I have no control over what I say at times, or any warning.’

      ‘I’ve never heard of this disease before.’

      ‘Oh, I’ve met two other cases. One of them was the son of a prosperous merchant turned into a seeming lunatic who wandered from town to town as a beggar. The other was a teacher whose career was cut short by the onset of this disease as he hit his third decade. It seems to afflict men.’

      ‘And it happens constantly?’

      He nodded. ‘I can behave perfectly acceptably most of the time. My affliction is actually rather mild. And yet it is offensive enough to have singled me out for ex-communication. I think the baker takes pity on me because his father and mine were friends. We didn’t exactly grow up together but he knows my outspoken words are never intentional. Again, I apologise for what I said. Being drunk keeps me lucid and my tongue clean. Ironic, eh?’ He paused. ‘Your giant arse must be stunning naked.’

      She swung around and gave him a look of total disbelief. He shrugged, his expression one of mortification. ‘I will be apologising constantly if you seriously want to go ahead with your proposition.’

      Elka laughed. ‘I’ve got broad shoulders, I’m sure I won’t wilt. How much?’

      ‘How long will it take?’

      She looked doubtful. ‘I can’t say for sure. A day?’

      ‘Two gold trents,’ he said sharply. ‘That’s robbery.’

      ‘I’m an opportunist, can’t you tell?’

      Elka nodded. Loethar needed help sooner rather than later. ‘All right. We’ll leave now. You’re sure Badger will be all right without you?’

      ‘Lo, woman! You care more about the dog than me.’ ‘The dog hasn’t tried to steal from me.’ ‘I would like to rub your breas—’

      ‘Let’s go, Janus!’ she said briskly, cutting him off before he disgraced himself again.

       9

      Gavriel had deliberately not woken Leo to take over watch but the king had roused himself before dawn and he’d had to come clean with the news.

      ‘You did what?’ the king replied, a cup of water halfway to his mouth. Leo had heard it the first time, Gavriel knew, but he was making Gavriel repeat it in order to give himself time to digest the repercussions. He’d seen Brennus take an identical approach when his ire was up.

      ‘I told them to go.’

      ‘Why would you do that, Gav?’

      Gavriel hesitated.

      ‘Speak plainly,’ Leo urged, his voice horribly cold but calm.

      Gavriel scratched his head. ‘Well, they were scared of you. Ravan is no enemy of yours and —’

      ‘That’s rich, coming from the person who wanted to butcher the bird at the first opportunity,’ Leo cut in quietly.

      ‘You’ve shown me the error of my ways,’ Gavriel replied equally quietly. ‘If not for your reluctance to kill we would not now have a new ally.’

      ‘Do you really believe he’s our ally, even after he ran away from us?’

      ‘I do. Especially now that we have permitted him to go on with his journey … whatever it is.’

      ‘Not we, Gav. You. You made that decision, against the wishes of your king. I wonder if your father ever defied mine?’

      ‘We shall never know,’ Gavriel said, keeping his tone even, not at all appreciating the way Leo kept comparing him to his father. ‘But I do know this: I didn’t like the way you looked at that boy, Leo. You don’t need to resort to acts of barbarism to prove your worth as a king. You are Valisar. No one can take that from you.’

      If Leo felt any offence it certainly didn’t show. ‘But my throne has been taken from me. And now I learn that perhaps even the crown isn’t mine, that the barbarian warlord is also Valisar and every bit as entitled to wear it as I am. I can’t be sure but I