TheRedKing (16 page)

“I know you’re angry—”

“I’m not angry. I feel nothing for you. If you came here to
convince me to spare your vicious offspring, then you’ve failed. Hypatios means
to kill me and take my kingdom. This will be the last battle he’ll ever fight.”

“Areus, please. You don’t know him,” Cosma said.

Delia wasn’t sure which son Cosma was more concerned about—the
one she abandoned or the one who seemed to share her madness.

“I know all I need to. He’s a tyrant like his father—” Areas
stopped abruptly. A disgusted look passed over his face. At least he finally
looked human again, though that flash of emotion lasted briefly before his
composure returned. “His father. My father. We don’t know which king sired us—Hippolytos
or Damon. Either Hypatios or I fight for a crown we have no right to.”

Holding Areus’s gaze, Cosma said, “You must never doubt that
you are the rightful King of Lortia. As for who should rule Zaltana, regardless
of his paternity, Hypatios would be a far better king than Hippolytos ever was,
not to mention in Zaltana it is customary, as I’m sure you know, for a king to
name his successor. Usually it is a son by blood, but he can choose anyone by
marking them.”

“And you’re saying Hypatios bears this mark?”

“On the day of his birth—and yours—when the seer told Hippolytos
about Hypatios’s powers, he had him marked then. A tattoo on his upper left
shoulder.”

Areus cast her a look cold enough to quench the fires of
hell.

“I guessed you’d be angry,” Cosma said. “But I never
expected you’d hate me.”

“I don’t hate you. I feel nothing for you.”

“What happened wasn’t her fault,” Alexa snapped at Areus. “She
was taken against her will. Areus, it’s not like you to blame a victim.”

“I don’t blame her for the abduction and rape. Hippolytos
should and will die for that.”

Delia looked at him in surprise. Etor also raised an
eyebrow.

“Areus, to kill Hippolytos means you intend to conquer
Zaltana,” Delia said.

“That’s madness.” Cosma looked frantic. “I came here to stop
a war, not make it worse. There is no need for you to avenge me. As you said, I’m
nothing to you. Not anymore.”

“It’s beyond that,” Areus insisted. “King Damon was my
father. He always will be, but Hypatios… I cannot believe he shares my blood.”

“Areus.” Delia took a step toward him, but he turned and
left the chamber.

At Delia’s frantic look, Etor nodded at her and said, “I’ll
speak to him.”

Cosma sat heavily on a chair by the small fireplace. “I’ve
failed again. As a mother I’ve failed in every way. My sons are going to meet
in battle and they will destroy each other. I had hoped Areus would be more
reasonable than Hypatios.”

“Why doesn’t he share Areus’s disgust about Hippolytos
forcing himself on you?” Delia demanded. “It’s because he’s the brutish madman
everyone claims—”

“It’s because he doesn’t know,” Cosma said. “I never told
him that. He thinks his mother died in childbirth.”

Then Hypatios was still ignorant of her real identity. She
hadn’t confided in him, but she had come to Areus—now a stranger to her—and told
him.

Delia curled her lip. “So you’ve lied to both of them, but
you still protect the monster?”

Anger flashed across Cosma’s scarred face. “Hypatios is
not
a monster.” She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. “But he is
dangerous. So is Areus. I see the man Areus has become and his reputation as a
warrior precedes him. He’s so much like Damon. Hypatios is also a force to be
reckoned with and I see now that one brother is as stubborn as the other. I
fear for them both.”

“Areus won’t be destroyed.” Delia stared hard at Cosma. “And
I don’t believe for a second you want to stop them from killing each other. You’ve
protected Hypatios from the truth, but you’ve flung it in Areus’s face right
before he goes to battle. It’s as if you want him distracted, wounded, even
before he meets his foes. Either you are as crazy as everyone said, completely
stupid or you
want
Areus to fail.”

“No.” Cosma stood, anger and sorrow flashing across her face.
“By the Spirit, is that truly what I’ve done?”

“No, my lady.” Alexa placed a comforting arm around her old
friend. “Areus is strong. He’ll do what he must.”

Alexa and Delia exchanged concerned glances. As much as Delia
knew Alexa pitied the former queen, she knew the maid also loved Areus.

Areus was strong because he had no choice. As the king, he
buried his feelings deep so that he could do what was best for Lortia, so that
everyone else could feel secure even in the most dangerous times. But if Alexa believed
that he wasn’t affected by his mother coming back from the dead to tell him
that he and his twin brother might be the result of a brutal rape, she was a
fool.

Fearful of losing her temper completely, Delia turned and
stormed out of the chamber. She was a bit surprised but also relieved to find
the guard still outside, though Cyril, Etor and Areus had gone.

“Ma’am.” He bowed his head to her.

“The king wants you to stay on duty here?” she asked, her
voice calmer than it had been in the chamber.

“Yes. We are to continue watching our guest.”

“Do you know where the king might be?”

“I believe he told Captain Etor he was going to his chamber
for a short time, then would meet him back on the training field.”

Delia nodded and went to Areus’s chamber. She knocked and
waited a few moments. She was about to call to him when he opened the door. If
he had lost his composure at all after learning the truth about his mother,
there was no evidence of it now. He gazed at her with his usual calm, stern
expression, yet with a hardness in his eyes she had never seen before.
Something told her this was how he looked in battle. If so, she pitied his
enemies.

“What is it, Delia?”

“I wanted to see if you’re well.”

“Of course I am.”

“I doubt I would be, if I were you.”

He smiled, but it seemed forced. “Delia, I appreciate your concern,
but I’m fine.”

“You’re still keeping a guard on your mother?”

“I don’t consider her my mother any longer. She’s a woman
from Zaltana who claims loyalty to Hypatios. She cannot be trusted and will
remain under watch until I decide otherwise.”

“I agree with you. My concern isn’t for her, but for you and
Lortia. If what she told you plagues your mind—”

“It doesn’t.”

“Then why have you sworn vengeance on Hippolytos?”

They stared at each other for a long, silent moment. Delia
wanted to reach out to him physically, but she sensed that he didn’t want to be
touched.

“She had no right to ask you for special consideration for
Hypatios because he might be your brother,” Delia said softly.

Areus drew a deep breath, stepped aside and gestured for her
to enter.

Delia walked in and he closed the door.

“If he is my brother, then there is the question of our
paternity.”

“Areus, regardless of who your father is I agree with Cosma
about one thing, you are the rightful King of Lortia.”

“If my father had known about the rape, he wouldn’t have
called a truce and Hippolytos would be dead.”

“Either that or he would have lost Lortia and we would all
be under Zaltanian rule. I’ve heard Sir Rain, Etor and the others speak of your
father. They said King Damon was a strong warrior and a fine king, but they
said you’re better. Areus, in the time I’ve known you, I’ve come to admire your
strength and your wisdom. You’re a great warrior, but you’re not stupid. You
use your brain. Don’t allow your emotions to sway you in the wrong direction—”

“I would never do that.” He looked at her sharply.

“You’re not hearing me. I didn’t say to hide your emotions.
You must deal with what you’re feeling. Anger. Pain. A desire for revenge. But
ultimately you have to do what’s best for Lortia, am I right?”

A very faint smile played around his mouth and his gaze
thawed. “I understand what you’re telling me, Delia. Revenge will make me feel
better, but attempting to conquer Zaltana is—”

“Unadvisable?”

“More like insane.”

Delia also smiled. “Maybe a bit.”

“But it’s not impossible,” Areus said, looking thoughtful. “I’m
speaking with a clear mind now. And believe it or not, Delia, this is something
I have discussed with Etor and my advisors many times before. If I kill
Hypatios and claim his army, then I already have Zaltana.”

Her brow furrowed. Why hadn’t she considered that? Probably
because instead of being groomed to be a queen, learning politics and strategy,
she had been reared in a convent and trained as a healer. She knew about
repairing the damage of war, but not about what to do once the war was won.

“Etor and your advisors know far more about battle than I
do. What have they said?”

“They’ve been pressing me to conquer. They believe that if
we take Hypatios’s army, we should go for all of Zaltana. I’ve maintained that
our primary objective is keeping Lortia and the other northern kingdoms free
and safe. Now I’m starting to agree that the only way that will happen is to
have a just king on the throne of Zaltana.”

Delia held his gaze. “Then you would be the ideal choice.”

“I appreciate your confidence.”

“And is that what you want? To rule the Western Continent?”

Areus strode to the window, his arms folded behind his back.
Gazing out at the sunlit courtyard, he said, “I’m content with Lortia, but I’ll
do whatever is necessary to maintain safety and honor.”

Honor. His mother again.

Not that Delia blamed him for wanting revenge, yet it wouldn’t
change the past.

She approached and embraced him from behind, resting her
cheek against his back and feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Whatever
you decide, Areus, I’m with you.”

He reached behind and tugged her into his arms. “Thank you, Delia.”

She held him tighter, unsure of what their future held but
knowing that no matter what, she wanted to share it with him.

* * * * *

Hypatios’s blades clashed with those of the soldiers
surrounding him. He snarled and grunted, ignoring the soreness in his shoulders
and arms and the burning in his lungs. He disarmed two men, kicked one onto his
back and jerked his elbow into the face of another.

The soldiers stepped back and circled him, their breathing
ragged. Hypatios smiled, his feet moving over the muddy ground. His heart
pounded from the vigor of training and he loved the excitement flowing through
him. Though these men were his subordinates, he knew that any one of them would
love to deal him a death blow.

It was dusk and they had just set up camp to rest for the
night before pressing forward at dawn. One of his father’s spies had reported
that soldiers from Lortia and Fernhill had set up defenses on their borders. No
doubt Areus and the other kings would combine their forces in a desperate
attempt to hold back the Zaltanian army. Their confidence had probably been
reinforced since King Areus had managed to fend them off so far.

He had yet to meet Hypatios. This would be the last battle
the warrior king of Lortia would ever fight. Hypatios would make an example of
him and the other kingdoms would surrender.

After so many years of listening to stories of Areus’s
greatness in battle, Hypatios longed to meet him in combat. He wanted Areus’s
blood on his blade and his head on a pike.

His hands tightened on his swords and he was about to attack
his training partners again when he saw a messenger approaching.

Hypatios bellowed, “Enough.”

The five warriors he’d chosen to spar with today
straightened into a position of attention.

Hypatios stalked toward the messenger, ordering the men to
go about their practice on their own.

Sweat trickled into his eyes and Hypatios absently wiped it
on his forearm.

“Sir,” said the messenger, quickly dismounting his lathered
horse and bowing to Hypatios.

“Do you have a message for me from Cassandra?” Hypatios
asked. He had written to his old nurse as often as his tight schedule allowed.
While away, he usually sent her letters. Hypatios’s life was hard as the
granite of the Mountains of Wrath. Other than the compassion and love Cassandra
showed him, there was no softness in his life. His father had seen to that,
locking him in a stone tower during his formative years, then after allowing Cassandra
to care for him, sending various warriors and tacticians to make him proficient
in battle.

Cassandra, the crone with a face as scarred as Hypatios’s,
was the only person who might have touched his heart, if he had one. He had
flickering memories of the old seer who had cared for him during the first
three years of his life. She had been gentle enough, but when she was around
the spirits circled closer. He hadn’t been able to control them back then and
it was because of him that the seer had died, just as his connection to the
spirit realm had killed his mother.

“She wasn’t there.” The messenger looked nervous. The young man
moistened his lips and drew a visible breath.

“Where was she?”

“I-I don’t know. When I asked the villagers, they said she
disappeared days before I arrived.”

Hypatios’s gut tightened and a strange feeling passed over
him. Panic, perhaps? He hadn’t felt like this since he was a child, locked in
the tower, separated from everyone and everything. Alone with the spirits of
the dead.

“What do you mean she disappeared?” He took a step toward
the young soldier whose eyes widened in fear.

Hypatios felt something near his leg and he glanced down to
see Beauty winding her way around his calf and inching up his thigh. He picked
up the snake and she wrapped herself around his arm. Gazing into her eerily
perfect face, he calmed a bit. Just a bit.