Tyrant's Throne (Greatcoats #4)

*

I’m not sure what I expected to find at the end of the uneven little road that ended like a sigh in the middle of the Duchy of Pulnam. Whatever it was I hoped or feared to see, it wasn’t the Gods of Love, Death and Valour waiting for me.

‘Perfect,’ the Tailor muttered when she noticed them standing in the shadows of the small hill where we intended to lay Aline to rest.

I hopped down from the seat atop the horse-cart. ‘I’ll deal with them.’

‘Keep a civil tongue and try not to challenge them to a duel.’

I loosened my rapier in its scabbard. ‘No promises.’

Monster growled, which I took as endorsement of any violence I might choose to instigate.

Valour still looked like Tommer to me: a young boy with unruly black hair and eyes that were quick and bright. Death wore a simple cowl, his face hidden in its shadows. I felt rather certain I wouldn’t want to see it up close. And the Goddess of Love? It turned out that despite Ethalia’s protestations, the Goddess of Love looked exactly like her to my eyes. I would have felt smug were I not so irritated by the presence here of these divine figures.

‘Welcome, Falcio,’ Valour said. He bowed a little, as did Love. Death just stood there looking awkward.

‘This is a private ceremony,’ I said. ‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to fuck off.’

The Tailor ambled over to stand beside me. ‘This is your idea of a civil tongue?’

‘It’s an uncivil world,’ I replied.

If the three Gods were offended, they gave no sign. ‘We will respect your wishes in this matter, Falcio,’ Valour said. ‘However we – the three of us – have a gift we wish to give.’

‘Is it money?’ the Tailor asked. ‘Because we ran out a few days ago.’

‘No gifts,’ I said. ‘There is nothing the Gods have that I want.’

‘The gift is not for you,’ Valour said.

That surprised me. ‘Then who—?’

The sound of shuffling movement caught my ears above the mild desert breeze and I spun, my weapon already drawn.

‘Falcio?’

My rapier fell soundlessly to the sandy ground. Aline was stepping down from the horse-cart. She rubbed her eyes, then took a few steps towards me.

‘Don’t,’ the Tailor said, the fingers of her hand hard as steel as they gripped my shoulder. ‘You mustn’t touch her.’

‘She’s right,’ Valour said. ‘You may not hold her, Falcio. My brother is moved to gentleness this night but Death kneels for no man.’

‘You’re playing with forces you shouldn’t,’ the Tailor said. ‘And in poor taste.’

The boy – or God – looked completely unashamed. ‘The veil is weaker here, and my brother only recently returned. He has . . . a little leeway . . . in restoring the balance.’

‘Just like a God,’ she said, ‘to think you get to make such decisions.’

They argued a little longer but I barely heard any of it; all I wanted to do was to tear away from the Tailor and reach out to hold Aline.

Just once. Just one last time let me hold her and tell her I’m sorry.

‘I’ve been very tired, Falcio,’ Aline said. ‘Have we been on an especially long journey?’ She looked around. ‘Monster?’

‘Don’t,’ I said, before she could run to the Greathorse. ‘Come over here, sweetling.’

Aline frowned at me. ’How many times have I asked you not to call me that?’ She started walking towards me. ‘Are we back in Phan? What are we doing here?’

‘I . . .’ I turned back to the three Gods. ‘Stop this, damn you! What kind of gift is it, to let me see her when—?’

‘I said the gift wasn’t for you,’ Valour interrupted me gently.

‘Then for whom?’

He nodded towards Aline. ‘It is for her.’

Aline took a few steps closer. ‘Hello,’ she said, as though she had only just then noticed the three figures standing behind us. ‘I don’t believe we’ve met. May I ask your names? Are you friends of Falcio’s? Because he doesn’t look very pleased to see you.’

Valour stepped in front of me then bowed at the waist. ‘My name isn’t very important, my Lady, but I am something of a friend to your father.’

She curtsied in response to his bow and then looked up at the stars and sighed. ‘It seems everyone knew my father except for me.’

‘That’s terrible,’ Valour said gently. ‘Would you like to meet him?’

Aline smiled uncertainly, as if this might be some sort of joke. ‘Is . . . is that possible?’

Valour turned and pointed up the little hill. There, standing near the top, waving, was a tall man, though a little rounded at the shoulders and with rather bad posture.

‘This can’t be . . .’ I said, although I’m not sure the words made it out of my mouth.

‘Come along, dear,’ the Goddess Love said to Aline. ‘I’ll take you to him.’

Aline looked up at me. ‘Is it all right if I go see him, Falcio? Because if you’re going to get into a fight with these people then you might need me to hold onto your bracer for you.’

‘Why in the world would I need to fight? These are . . . friends.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Why do you always assume I’m an idiot?’

‘Go on,’ I said. ‘I’ll be waiting here when you’re done.’

She grinned. ‘Try not to start the duel before I get back.’

Love reached out a hand and placed it gently on Aline’s shoulders and walked with her up the path to the hilltop.

‘Thank you,’ I said at last to Valour and Death.

Death didn’t speak, but I saw perhaps the slightest tilt of his head.

The Tailor sat down unceremoniously on the ground and crossed her legs. ‘What a load of nonsense,’ she said, but even I heard the catch in her voice.

‘I don’t understand,’ I said to Valour. ‘Is she . . . is she going to be with her father? If so, why did you have to do all this?’

He looked as if he were about to reply then stopped himself. Valour and Death shared a glance and finally Valour said, ‘It’s a little complicated, Falcio.’

The Tailor snorted. ‘By which he means that the Gods themselves don’t know.’ She waved a hand at Death. ‘Even you, eh? A God of Death who knows next to nothing about his domain? What are you, some sort of celestial absentee landlord?’

I felt as if my mind was slowly wrapping itself around something which might be important. ‘They had to meet in this world, didn’t they? That’s . . . necessary, somehow, isn’t it?’

Valour nodded. ‘That’s as good a way of looking at it as any other.’

A thousand questions came to mind but I guessed they would never be answered, so I just stood there rather uncomfortably with the Gods Valour and Death and a rather nasty old woman who passed the time by trying to come up with ever more elaborate insults for them. Now who’s forgotten a civil tongue?

Love came back down the path towards us, and I was surprised to see Aline close behind her.