Page 17 of Rebel, Pawn, King


  “Thanos, listen to me,” his father said. “We don’t have… much time.”

  For the first time, the reality of that hit home. These were the last moments he would ever have with his father. If there had ever been a chance for them to be reconciled, for things to be better, it had been snatched away from them.

  “Father,” Thanos began, but attempting it then seemed wrong somehow. He’d come there to beg for Stephania’s life. The king cut him off in any case.

  “Thanos… there are… things I have to tell you. I was foolish.” For a moment, his father closed his eyes, and Thanos thought that the end had come, but somehow he kept going. There was a hint of the old strength there when his father spoke again. “When it came to your mother, I was a fool and more than that. I was cruel. I put politics ahead of what I felt. We needed the lands that Athena brought with her, and your mother… it would have made things difficult.”

  Thanos had heard that part, but he guessed that his father wanted to at least try to make things right.

  “It doesn’t matter now,” Thanos said.

  “It matters more than ever,” his father replied. “I tried to have you reinstated, but Lucious won’t allow that now. He will prevent it, cover up the truth. You will need to be able to prove the truth of it, the whole truth. That means…” His breath caught, hacking as he fought for life.

  “What is it, Father?” Thanos asked.

  “Father, I like hearing you call me that,” the king managed. A look of pain flashed across his face, and Thanos saw him pale. “Felldust. You’ll find the answers you need in Felldust. That’s where she went after I—”

  He gasped again then, his eyes staring up at something beyond Thanos.

  “Hold on,” Thanos said. “I’ll get help. The physicians must be able to do something.”

  There was no answer, though. Thanos had seen enough death already in his life to recognize the moment when the glassy stare of eyes stopped looking at this world.

  He reached out almost automatically to shut his father’s eyes.

  He didn’t expect grief in that moment. This was the man, after all, who had terrorized his own empire, who had given Lucious the freedom to do what he wanted and who had put down challenges to his rule with hands as bloody as Thanos’s were right then. This was the man who had tried to rule over his life, who had sent him to Haylon, and who had declared Thanos a traitor for his role in helping the rebellion.

  He shouldn’t have felt anything for this man, but he did. He found deep emptiness welling up in him, in sadness not just for the loss of a father, but the loss of what could have been. He could have had a real father, but he’d never had that. The Empire could have had a king who cared for it. Thanos could have found himself in a position to respect and love his father, rather than seeing him as the symbol of everything cruel and harsh about the way the Empire ruled.

  Thanos grieved for that, and also for the fact that he’d never had the chance to know his father as his father, only as the king giving him orders that hurt so many. He grieved for the man his father could have been, a man he’d seen in only the briefest of glimpses.

  He knelt there in his father’s blood, and he felt his tears starting to fall. Thanos wiped them away, but that only left blood on his face, the heat of the smears there cut through by fresh tear tracks. He wiped it away with his sleeves, but that only left Thanos’s clothes red.

  He stood, not knowing what to do next. Not knowing where to even begin. He’d come there to save Stephania, and instead, he’d found this. But what could he do now? Should he sneak away as though nothing had happened? Should he try to get to Stephania and get her out of there safely? Should he do what every bone in his body was aching for him to do, and hunt down Lucious, gutting him for what he’d done to their father?

  Should he stay there, simply because he couldn’t abandon his father’s body?

  Thanos didn’t know which to do. He couldn’t think then, couldn’t do anything but feel. He stood there, looking at his still bloody hands, and none of it seemed to make sense.

  He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, because even the passing of his heartbeats didn’t seem to have any meaning then except to draw attention to the fact that his father’s heart no longer did.

  He was still standing there when he heard the doors to the chambers opening, and he spun round, ready to fight. Some instinct told him that this might be Lucious, and if it was, then Thanos intended to make sure that he didn’t leave this room again.

  It wasn’t Lucious, though.

  Guards stood there, more than a dozen fanning out around the edge of the room in a grim circle. The two Thanos had knocked out stood groggily with them, looking as though they had only just been shaken back into consciousness.

  Queen Athena stood at their heart, her expression set, looking like some cruel painting of an avenging goddess. Thanos saw her looking over the room, and him, and her dead husband, taking it all in. He saw her gasp, and stumble slightly as she took it all in, her mask of impassive perfection slipping for a moment as she did it.

  Thanos saw grief and horror underneath, and some part of him thought better of the queen for it. He hadn’t thought that she was capable of feeling anything for others.

  “You!” she snarled, her gaze fixing on him. “What have you done? What have you done?”

  A guard rushed past Thanos, going to the body of the king and bending down over him.

  “He’s dead!” the man called. “The king is dead.”

  Two guards drew their swords then, moving to the royal bodyguards Thanos had knocked down. Before the men could move to stop them, the guards’ swords slid into their throats and out again, leaving the bodyguards clutching at the wounds as they fell.

  Thanos recoiled in horror from the sight of that, and the casual way these men could kill their own for failing. He felt guilty too, because if he hadn’t fought his way past the guards, they might still be alive now. Maybe not, though, because they might still have been killed when they found out what Lucious had done.

  “You, killed him,” Queen Athena said, staring at Thanos. “You killed my husband!”

  It occurred to Thanos then what this had to look like. He’d sneaked into the castle, and fought his way past the guards at the door to the royal chambers. Now, the king lay dead behind him, and Thanos was standing there, so covered in his blood that he probably looked like a madman or a monster. If Thanos had found someone else like this, what would he have thought?

  Even so, Thanos tried to explain the truth of it.

  “Lucious did this,” he said. “Lucious killed the king because King Claudius was going to undo Lucious’s violence and place him second in line to the throne to me.”

  Even as he said it, Thanos could see the disbelief on every face there. Every face, except that of the queen. For her, there seemed to be a kind of horrified recognition of the truth of it, knowing that it was exactly the kind of thing that her son might do.

  “Why would he do such a thing?” Queen Athena demanded.

  “Because I’m his son,” Thanos replied, and he saw the truth of it register with the queen. “You know what’s happening. You know Lucious did this.”

  “I know no such thing!” Queen Athena bellowed, and Thanos could see her trying to cover her reaction. “You’re the one standing there covered in my husband’s blood. You’re the one who joined up with the rebellion. That’s what this is! A last-ditch attempt by them to derail the Empire’s victory! Why is no one grabbing that traitor?”

  They surged forward for him then, and Thanos fought, because he could see that no one was going to listen to him there. He threw a punch that caught a guard hard in the side, then stepped between two more, making for the door. Unarmed, he couldn’t hope to fight so many men. He could only hope to escape.

  He ran for the door, but hands grabbed at him. Thanos spun, feeling his elbow connect with a guard’s head, but blows rained down on him in return. Guards struck at him from all angles
, and if there had only been one or two, then perhaps he might have been able to endure it, even fighting back.

  As it was, there were simply too many of them. A pair of guards tackled him, and Thanos went down under a sprawling mass of bodies, with only the fact that the guards were getting in one another’s way stopping Thanos from being stomped to death.

  Eventually, he felt hands clamping around his arms, dragging him up to his feet and holding him in place in spite of his efforts to get away. He saw Queen Athena watching him with hard-edged hatred that seemed to have an edge of calculation to it.

  Thanos could guess what she was thinking. That if it came to a choice between her son and a man who hated the system that had given her so much, there was no choice. That this could be an opportunity as well as a loss. That only one thing would give her control over a son in charge of the Empire.

  “You have always hated us,” she said, “but I never thought even you would do something so evil. You betrayed your empire, but I never thought you would be so mad as to murder your king!”

  “Lucious will betray you in time,” Thanos said. “If he can do this to his father, do you really think you’re safe?”

  Queen Athena stepped forward and struck him hard across the cheek.

  “Take this traitor away and execute him,” she said.

  The last thing Thanos saw was a mound of bodies, pummeling him, dragging him away, smothering out the light as his world went black.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  From a shadowed doorway Stephania stared out at the ships across the dock, unable to push away the memories of everything that had happened the last time she’d been there. Anger rose at the thought of Thanos’s abandonment of her, and the cold hardness of it was more than enough to push away her fear.

  She was afraid because of what might happen if Lucious found out that she was trying to leave Delos. So many of her old informants were his now that she didn’t know who to trust. If he found out about this, he probably would keep her under lock and key, forcing her to do his bidding.

  Or try, anyway. Stephania would see him dead before that.

  Which would be as good as suicide, Stephania thought, wrapping her cloak tighter around herself. She tried to tell herself that the reason she was shivering was the cold of the sea air.

  She was still trying to make sense of the chaos at the docks. There were too many ships, with too many unfamiliar names. She could have tried for one of the few imperial galleys lined up there, but it would take time to gather together the appropriate blackmail material on one of the captains, and right then, Stephania didn’t have time.

  There were a lot of things she didn’t have. She didn’t have her handmaidens, because she’d had to leave them behind at the castle to maintain some pretense of normality. She didn’t have her full resources, just three bags containing gold, silver, and gems, almost as carefully hidden as the knives and vials of poison she’d brought. Compared to the advantages being at the heart of the Empire gave her, it was practically nothing.

  Stephania could see armed men making their way along the docks now. Rough-looking men; exactly the sort Lucious might employ quietly. Stephania huddled deeper into the stone alcove of the doorway, making sure they hadn’t spotted her.

  There had to be someone. Some ship that would go where she wanted to and that would take her as a passenger with no questions asked. The Dantenine? No, its captain had a reputation for betraying passengers. The Fire Adder? That might be heading for her destination, but if Stephania could have bribed its captain so easily, she would have used it for her first escape with Thanos. She’d burned so many bridges trying to save him that she couldn’t find one safe to cross now.

  It was just one more thing to hate him for now.

  As brightest day does turn to night, so love to hate can spin, Stephania thought, trying to remember where the small fragment of poetry was from. It didn’t sound like the kind of thing one of her would-be suitors might recite. Ah, that was it; the Ancient One poet Varaleth. Old Cosmas had gotten her to read his works once when—

  Stephania shook her head. She was trying to distract herself from the moment when she had to act, when this was a moment that called for decisiveness. She had to remember who she was. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t find the perfect ship. She would find one and make it work, through bribery, or threats, or whatever else it took.

  Stephania looked over to the far side of the docks, and that was when she saw the boat that held her handmaiden, Elethe. Stephania had assumed that the girl had either been killed in the course of her task, taken along by Thanos, or had simply decided to tarry too long in the city. Instead, she sat in a small boat, watched by another woman who looked as though she could have been a pirate or a mercenary to Stephania’s eye.

  Well, that was acceptable. Both were easy enough to bribe, and in the worst-case scenario, where she simply had to poison the woman, at least she would have her handmaiden back to help search for another ship.

  Stephania made her way along the dock, tightening her hand on one of her knives beneath her cloak just in case, feeling the hilt of it press deep into the palm of her hand. To her surprise, the woman on the boat looked up as she approached. She hadn’t moved as quietly as she’d thought.

  On the boat, Stephania saw a flash of recognition mixed with hope cross Elethe’s face. It was sweet that despite everything, the girl would still think of her as a savior. If she’d been there with Stephania when they’d visited the old witch, she might have found out how little that counted for.

  “My lady,” Elethe said.

  Stephania snarled to herself. Did none of her handmaidens understand the stupidity of that?

  “You’re Lady Stephania?” the other woman said.

  “Just as I promised,” Elethe replied. “Thanos has helped her to escape and sent her to us.”

  Stephania smiled then, because she realized this was one handmaiden capable of seeing more possibilities than most. She’d given Stephania more than enough information to begin with. She put back the hood of her cloak, so that they could get a better view of her. She schooled her features into a perfect image of the frightened escapee, terrified of being caught. It wasn’t difficult. She just thought about what would happen to her if Lucious caught up with her.

  “Elethe,” she said. “Who is this woman? Thanos… he sent me here. He… he said you might help.”

  She was probably putting it on a little thickly, but Elethe seemed to be happy for the distraction. She rose up behind the other woman in silence, obviously ready to strike.

  “Well, you don’t need to worry,” the woman said. “As soon as Thanos gets here, I’ll get us all to safety. Sail you anywhere in the world you want to go.”

  Stephania hurriedly signaled for Elethe to stop. Just a twitch of the fingers, but it was enough for her handmaiden to sit back down. The other woman there spun as though expecting an attack, but Stephania stepped forward.

  “Anywhere? I’m sorry, but I don’t even know who you are, not really.”

  “Lady Stephania,” Elethe said. “Can I present to you Captain Felene? She has… many accomplishments, apparently. She’s been telling me about a few while we waited.”

  “Just Felene,” the other woman said. “Will Thanos be long?”

  Stephania shook her head, remembering to make it look as though she was anguished by all that was happening to her.

  “Thanos… won’t be coming,” she said. “They killed him.”

  She’d always had the ability to cry on demand. She’d learned it as a girl, as the best method to get her way. Even now, it still had its value, as she felt a tear roll down her cheek.

  “So you do feel something for him,” Felene said.

  “You don’t get to ask me that,” Stephania said.

  She saw the boat captain’s expression harden. “I do if we’re traveling together. If you’ve just cost Thanos his life.”

  “Then yes, I feel something for him!” Stephania s
napped back. After all, she’d only just told herself that love and hate weren’t so far apart. “And yes, he died for me, and I feel awful about it. I wouldn’t have let him do it, but he insisted.”

  She saw Felene nod. “Yes, that’s the kind of thing Thanos would do.”

  Stephania saw the captain’s hand tighten on the edge of her boat. Stephania hoped she hadn’t gone too far. It would be no use if the woman ran off in some desperate quest to avenge Thanos.

  “I hope you know how lucky you are to have known him,” Felene said. “He saved me, and I owe him, and now so do you. You owe it to him to make it worth his sacrifice.”

  “I will,” Stephania said, with what she hoped was a suitable level of sincerity. “I will even avenge him, but to do that, there is someone I must find. Someone who can help us against the Empire, even if we must do it secretly. Even if we must pretend we support them.”

  “Who?” Felene asked, and just by the tone of it, Stephania knew she had her.

  “There is a sorcerer, in the land of Felldust,” Stephania said. “I think he can help us.”

  She saw Felene considering, but it wasn’t for long. The sailor nodded sharply.

  “All right,” she said. “Felldust it is. As I told Thanos, I’ve always wanted to spirit away a princess. We will have revenge, though?”

  “Absolutely,” Stephania said. “I promise you.”

  It was just a question of on whom. They would go to Felldust, find the sorcerer, and Stephania would have vengeance on Ceres. As for Thanos, if he wasn’t actually dead already, she had a way of making sure he ended up that way.

  She put a hand on her belly. She couldn’t feel the child growing within her yet, but it would come. She would raise her child in full knowledge of its place in the Empire, and she would teach it every skill it needed. She would raise her child with a pure hatred of Thanos that would ensure his death should they ever meet.

  “Is everything all right, my lady?” Elethe asked as she helped Stephania to board the boat.

  Stephania nodded, and for the first time, smiled widely.