The King's Sons (The Herezoth Trilogy) by Victoria Grefer Page A

this.”
    “I’m
well aware I can trust you. I could trust you with greater things than these,
should the necessity arise.”
    Valkin
forced himself to smile. “I’m glad you feel that way.”
    “You
won’t be able to speak with Vane tonight. You’ll be at that dinner…. I’ll ask
Neslan to attend as well, shall I? Hune can update you both afterward. I’m
curious, son: at what point in this fiasco would you involve other sorcerers?
Zacry Porteg? The Trand woman Vane hired at his school?”
    Valkin’s
heart rate nearly doubled.
    “You
ask my opinion as to…?”
    “Vane’s
too close to Zacry to make a proper decision concerning him. And Vane knows
Jane Trand. He’s worked extensively with her. He would let his attachments
interfere if I discussed this with him, so I’ll avoid that. I’ve spoken with
Gratton, though. I’ve also asked the general. Now I question you: when would
you have me send Vane for Zacry?”
    The
prince couldn’t say he knew Zacry well, but the man had rescued him after
abduction ten years before, then taken him into his home. He now served on the
Magic Council, and Valkin shrank from involving him at all. Wanted to leave him
his peace. Zacry Porteg had earned his peace, and he had young children,
children as young as Vane’s.
    “Valkin,
Linstrom has twenty sorcerers at his disposal. As of the moment, we’ve Vane
Unsten. He can’t do this alone. It’s not easy to go to others, I understand
that. It wasn’t easy to summon Zacry when you and your brothers disappeared,
but I did so. It wasn’t easy to let Vane take part in the raid that saved you.
You know how lucky you are I made that choice. So I’m asking, at what point
would you involve our allies?”
    Valkin’s
words tasted bitter. Like some kind of noxious poison. Weren’t they venom,
after all? Couldn’t they signal Zacry’s death, or that of an innocent woman, a
schoolteacher? Valkin knew nothing of her. She could be as young as the prince,
or slightly older, with babies.
    “When
we’re ready to formulate a plan to bring down Linstrom. That’s the moment: when
we understand our options as to a preemptive strike, because we must strike
preemptively, no?”
    Rexson
creased his brow in thought. Holy Giver, he looked exhausted…. Not weak,
though. Never weak. Valkin knew he needn’t worry until the king lost marked
strength. His eyes might be sunken, but their gaze was strong as he nodded in
approbation.
    “Good,
son. I believe we’re of one mind.” The king clapped Valkin on the back. “It
would take you ages to move my papers elsewhere. You can commandeer the office.
I’ll be occupied, but if you need me….”
    “I’ve
got this under control, Father.”
    “I’ll
send Neslan straight to you.”
    With that,
Rexson left his eldest son alone to ponder his new schedule, and Valkin let his
mind wander.
    The crown
prince had realized ten years ago, after he and his brothers were kidnapped,
that he would rather not be royal. No one would have threatened him, were he
not royal; his family’s telekinesis would not be such a guarded secret, such a
danger to them, were his father a blacksmith or a tailor, a lawyer or a
teacher. Valkin’s resentment had only strengthened with time. He wanted nothing
more than to live in an old, drafty cottage, a cottage he could leave whenever
he wished to take a walk or bring a bow to the archery range. And though he
knew those images were absurd, just to have them in his head was a comfort. He
never would abdicate, but to think that he could, to pretend that he might,
gave him solace. That very solace would be a casualty of the days ahead.
    Neslan
came in half an hour. Valkin had moved to the desk by then, and was staring at
his father’s stacks of parchment, which all blurred together. He had made no
progress in any task thanks to an aching head.
    Neither
brother mentioned Neslan’s accusations of the night before. There was no time
to reference anything other than the upcoming