birds to peck at.’
Freath did not lift his head. ‘Perhaps you should,’ he sighed. ‘I have walked a treacherous path, Faris. I suspect you would be doing me a kindness.’
‘No,’ said a new voice. ‘He will not grant you such a swift end, Master Freath, not without my say so.’
Freath looked up in startlement. He could see only the bottom half of the man who had spoken. He frowned, crawling out of the enclosure, followed by Faris, to stand and face his accuser. It was dark and the weak illumination from the tallow candles threw up only a ghostly glow. Freath squinted through the shadows to see a young man: tall, lean, fair-haired and, although he bore little resemblance to either parent, his bearing was unmistakeably regal.
‘Give me light!’ Freath demanded. ‘Now!’
Faris must have nodded because Tern lit a lantern from one of the tallow candles. ‘It can only be lit for a few moments,’ the leader of the outlaws growled.
Freath grabbed for it, swinging it perilously close to the young man’s face. He knew precisely what he was looking for and there it was, the tiny scar above his right eyebrow that had been won when he fell from a pear tree, clipping his face on a branch. He sucked in a gasp of excitement. ‘How did you get this scar?’ he asked, pointing towards it.
He knew everyone was leaning in to scrutinise something they’d probably not even noticed before. It was tiny. Only just visible, a thin silvery blemish.
The younger man didn’t hesitate. ‘I fell out of a tree, hit my head on a knob of the branch. By the time the de Vis twins and I arrived at the infirmary, I looked as though I’d fought through a day’s battle.’
Freath’s lip began to tremble. ‘What sort of tree was it?’
The younger man sneered. ‘A pear tree. The fruit wasn’t even ripe and to add insult to injury I got bellyache for my trouble and then the trots. My mother was not pleased with me. She worried I would be scarred badly but I can recall you scoffing at the suggestion, Freath. Besides, I always hoped it would add a warrior’s mark to my soft appearance.’
‘How old were you?’ Freath persisted.
The man blinked. Freath held his breath.
‘I was six. Mother had recently lost another baby so her mood made her overreact to my wound. She banished the de Vis brothers from my life for what felt like an age.’
Freath sank to his knees. ‘It was four days, your majesty,’ he said, his voice choked with relief. ‘They were banished for four days.’
‘They were only about eleven anni themselves,’ Leo continued.
Freath nodded, his eyes glistening. ‘King Leon—’
‘No!’ Leo yelled. ‘You will not so much as speak my name, you treacherous, snivelling, arse-licking bastard!’ He drew a sword with a chilling ring from its scabbard at his hip; even in this low light Freath recognised the sword.
He bent his head, accepting the rebuke. ‘I am unworthy of being slain by Faeroe, your majesty.’
He sensed Leo’s hesitation but it was Faris who stepped between them. ‘Stop!’
‘I warned you,’ Leo bristled, his voice edged with emotion.
‘Just wait, your majesty!’ Faris demanded. ‘Extinguish the lantern,’ he growled at Tern. ‘On your feet, Freath.’
Freath felt himself hauled upright. He still couldn’t face his sovereign.
‘Where’s Jewd?’ Faris asked.
‘Just coming up the hill now with the others,’ Tern answered. ‘I can just see him. He’s moving quickly which means his money pouch is a lot lighter.’
‘Did anyone follow us?’ Faris demanded.
‘No,’ came the reply.
Freath dared a look. Leo had not taken his gaze from the former aide to his parents, his face glowering with such open hatred that Freath expected to feel Faeroe sliding into his belly at any moment. ‘Hear me out, majesty,’ he risked, for Leo’s hearing only. ‘I might surprise you.’
Leo said nothing, simply stared at him with a deepening sneer.
The man they called Jewd finally arrived, and Freath recognised him as none other than the arrow-throwing giant from the inn. Two other men accompanied him. ‘It was a ruse?’ Freath sputtered.
Faris nodded. ‘I needed to create a disturbance so that we could get you out of there with no one remembering you leave.’
‘For when we kill you and leave you for the wolves,’ Leo finished.
Freath inwardly sighed. He could not blame the young man. ‘Does he lose purposely, then?’ he asked, simply for something to say that would throw Leo off his back.
‘No, he does that without even trying,’ Faris answered. ‘He was born a shocking gambler,’ he added, loud enough for the giant to hear.
Jewd ignored him. ‘So this is our traitor, is it? Puny, isn’t he? Shall I snap him in half, your majesty?’
Leo’s lip curled. ‘Not yet, Jewd. I want him for myself.’ Freath watched the king’s grip on Faeroe tighten.
Once again Faris calmed the tension. ‘Right, you men, get yourselves something to eat. Thanks for tonight, you did well. No fire unfortunately this low in the woods, but tomorrow night I promise a meal of roasted meat.’ The rest of the outlaws grumbled but meandered off leaving the four of them.
‘Well, gentlemen,’ Faris said, taking in the king and Freath with a roving gaze, ‘it’s time to talk. No swords needed, majesty.’ He raised a hand as the king opened his mouth, no doubt to hurl more abuse, Freath guessed. ‘Your highness, we are going to listen. If Master Freath is every inch the slippery snake you describe him as and as cunning as you suggest, then I have to query why he would willingly put himself into a den of Freath-haters unarmed, alone, and knowing full well that he carries a death wish by walking into our lives.’ He paused before adding, ‘We should consider the possibility that he’s innocent.’
‘Innocent?’ Leo repeated. ‘He threw the queen from the highest level of Brighthelm.’ But he reluctantly sheathed Faeroe.
Freath swallowed. How? Where had he been hiding in the palace to see so much!
Leo continued, despite Faris’s warning glare. ‘He picked her up by her royal garments at her neck,’ he said, pointing to his own, ‘and at her tail, and without so much as a farewell, flung her through the window so she could smash on the flagstones below. And then he turned and smiled at the hag from the Steppes.’ If winter had a voice, it would sound like Leo’s.
‘You saw,’ Freath choked.
‘Yes, I saw. I saw everything you did, Freath.’
‘But you did not hear,’ Freath defended.
Leo seemed unperturbed. ‘I did not hear what you and my mother discussed before you murdered her, perhaps, but everythi—’
Freath interrupted, no longer caring about protocol. ‘Because if you had been able to hear, you would have known that she instructed me to do that.’
Leo paused, astonished, and then leapt for Freath. Jewd hauled him back. ‘Forgive me, majesty,’ the big man growled into the young man’s ear. ‘We said we would listen.’
Freath rubbed self-consciously at his throat.
‘Let’s be seated, all of us,’ Faris said, glaring at his young monarch.
Jewd threw one of the stools in Freath’s direction. As Freath sat warily, Faris urged Leo to sit on the second stool. The outlaw adopted a crouch that he managed to make appear comfortable.
‘Why don’t you tell us everything you