Allies & Assassins Read online

  Silva nodded, her attention fixed on Asta’s hand as she lifted the chain with its three attachments—the vial, the locket and the key—out of the bag.

  Silva’s pale finger touched the vial. “His father’s ashes.” She wrinkled her nose. “That’s a particularly gruesome Archenfield tradition, in my opinion.”

  “I agree,” Asta said with a nod.

  “They’ll make me a vial of Anders’s own ashes, you know, after the Burning.”

  “Will you wear it?” Asta inquired.

  Silva shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Though his mother will shoot daggers at me for not doing so.” Her attention drifted. “What’s this key?”

  “I don’t know,” Asta said, a little disappointed. “I thought perhaps you might.”

  “No,” Silva said. “I haven’t seen it before. It doesn’t look like one of the palace keys.”

  Looking back, Asta realized she should have known at that moment to have gone no further. Because if Silva had never seen the key that Anders wore on a chain around his neck—the key that must have rested, as he walked, over his heart—then perhaps he was keeping other secrets from his wife too? But Asta did not have the presence of mind to stop there. Her conversation with Silva, her new friend Silva, was like the waters of the river flowing beneath them. Unstoppable.

  “You said before that you knew my husband loved me, very much,” Silva said. “I don’t see how this collection of objects proves that. Unless I’m missing something?”

  Asta tapped the tubular locket.

  “The locket? It was a gift from Queen Elin, I think. What does that prove?”

  Smiling, Asta took the locket into her hands and twisted the top until it was released. The roll of paper was revealed inside. Asta eased it out carefully, placed the note on the velvet bag and unrolled it for Silva to see.

  “He carried this with him always. It’s a love note from you. Surely you must agree that the fact he kept this with him, so close to his heart, proves how much he loved you?”

  Carry this note with you and remember how I carry your heart with me.

  It was as Silva gazed at the note, her tiny fingers unconsciously smoothing out its curled edges, that Asta knew what a terrible mistake she had made. Even before she spoke, she could see in Silva’s eyes the wound she herself was responsible for inflicting.

  “I… I don’t understand,” Silva stammered. “I didn’t write this.”

  “If you didn’t…” Asta began. Why—why was she even giving voice to this thought? “Then who did?”

  TWENTY-ONE

  The Council Chamber, the Palace

  “AND NOW, THE MAIN ORDER OF OUR BUSINESS today,” axel blaxland once more had the floor of the council chamber. “I refer to the execution tonight of Michael Reeves, the assassin of Prince Anders.”

  The mood in the chamber was more businesslike than during the previous two days, as The Twelve had struggled to absorb the shock of Prince Anders’s murder. The deep grief experienced by The Twelve seated around the table and by the royals up on the dais was still raw; nonetheless the business of the Princedom could not wait. It was a time for action.

  Kai Jagger raised his hand before taking the floor. “Are we making a mistake by not having a public execution?” he asked.

  “Has it come to this?” Vera Webb exclaimed. “Are we barbarians once more?”

  “It’s a fair question, Kai,” Axel said, ignoring the Cook’s outburst. He turned to the Poet. “What do you think, Logan? You are our expert in such matters.”

  Jared could see that Vera was fuming and muttering under her breath to Father Simeon, who sat beside her. The Prince was gratified to see that at least the relationship between the Captain of the Guard and the Poet seemed to be back on a more workable footing.

  “I confess I’m of two minds,” Logan said. “There’s no question that the populous needs the assassin to be executed—and fast. The people of Archenfield, Prince Jared’s subjects, need to know that the Blood Price has been paid for Prince Anders’s murder. Only then can they move on with their lives—and allow us to do so, too.”

  “But do they need to witness the beheading?” Nova Chastain interrupted him.

  Logan nodded at the Falconer. “I share your caution. This is a potentially combustible situation and there are so many deep emotions in play.”

  “I’m not being cautious,” Nova briskly corrected him. “I just think some things are not for the public eye.”

  “Come on, Logan!” Axel said impatiently. “Give us a firm decision one way or another. You are, are you not, the expert in public opinion?”

  The Poet resisted rising to this bait. “We need to strike a balance, in my opinion, between demonstrating strong and swift justice, and not risking tainting the palace and Prince Jared—at the beginning of his reign—with blood.”

  Jonas Drummond shook his head. “You’re wrong. They need to associate the palace with blood and the payment of the Blood Price.”

  “There’s a danger,” Logan continued, “that you make the people fear us rather than the external enemy. We need to renew their trust in the court and consolidate their belief in Prince Jared. They are reeling right now at the thought that an assassin could venture so deep into the Princedom and kill their sovereign.” Logan glanced at Jared. “Yesterday, the new Prince made a fine job of addressing the people’s grief and confusion, but that was only the beginning. We need to reinforce the message that the Princedom is safe again, that they are safe and that no one is going to threaten Prince Jared. Remember, it’s only been two years since they lost their own parents, their own children. War is a fire which touches ever man, women, and child in the land.”

  Axel interrupted again. “I’m confused, Logan. Public or private execution? And I’ll settle for a one-word answer. It’ll be time for lunch soon, eh Vera?”

  Vera Webb shot Axel a dark look. There was laughter from Jonas Drummond and Morgan Booth. Prince Jared was beginning to see the division lines between the Twelve and to understand how this might influence them when it came to voting on any matters of governance. He would have to keep that in mind.

  Prince Jared was impressed by Logan’s equanimity as he continued.

  “The next time the people come together, it should be for Prince Anders’s funeral and then, a day, later for Prince Jared’s coronation. In this way, they come to associate the palace firmly with order, control and continuity. Holding a public execution here could, under the circumstances, prove distracting at best and unsettling at worse.”

  As Logan sat down, Axel rolled his eyes. “Thank you for that very thorough analysis.”

  Shaking his head, Jonas weighed in again. “I completely disagree with you, Logan. The execution is the moment of catharsis. There is no better way to demonstrate that the Blood Price has been paid than by showing the common man the assassin’s blood.”

  Elias Peck spoke next. “I’m with Logan,” he said. “As I understand it, what we are dealing with here is a potentially bigger threat from Paddenburg. So the people we really need to sit up and take notice is the court of Paddenburg.”

  “What better way to make Paddenburg sit up and take notice,” Jonas rejoined, “than by slicing his head off?”

  “Why stop there?” Morgan Booth suggested, a wicked glint in his eye. “Why don’t we send the court of Paddenburg, and each of our other neighbors for that matter, a quarter portion of the assassin’s body?”

  Axel smiled at his comrade. “No one loves a bit of theater more than you, eh Morgan?”

  The Executioner shrugged and raised his palms high. “I can’t deny it.”

  Emelie Sands nodded. “I have to say, I like that idea better than a public execution. It would make a crystal clear statement of our mood.”

  Logan stifled a sigh. “That is safe to say. But it’s not good diplomacy.”

  “As far as I’m concerned,” Emelie shot back, “diplomacy went out the window when Paddenburg decided to kill Prince Anders.”r />
  The Priest, Father Simeon cleared his throat before joining the fray. “Forgive me, but I think we are in danger of moving too fast and making rash decisions. There is not yet official enmity between us and Paddenburg.” He looked imploringly toward Jared. “I know that, because of the assassin’s origins, we suspect that he was merely the pawn in a much bigger game but shouldn’t we wait until we have unassailable proof of that before making such an overtly hostile gesture?”

  “I agree.” the Groom’s contribution was so softly spoken, Lucas Curzon’s words were easy to miss. Especially as Emelie’s sharp voice cut across his.

  “Fight fire with fire and blood with blood,” she said. “That’s my policy.”

  “Mine too,” Axel acknowledged.

  “That may be so,” Father Simeon acknowledged, “but that is not at this time the official policy of this court. I certainly don’t remember—”

  Emelie cut him off again. “I rather thought you’d be in favor of it, Father,” she said. “It’s textbook Old Testament.”

  Father Simeon frowned and shook his head, evidently frustrated.

  Nova now addressed Emelie sharply. “Do you ever get tired of hearing your own voice?”

  “Rarely,” Emelie said. “And I do see it as my responsibility, in exchange for my seat at the Prince’s table, to make helpful contributions.”

  “Oh,” Nova said, sotto voce. “Forgive me. I didn’t realize that’s what they were.”

  There were a few smiles around the table. It seemed that it wasn’t just the Falconer who had grown irritated by the Beekeeper.

  Jared decided now might be an opportune time to take control of the debate. “Let’s try to keep this discussion focused,” he said. He was conscious of all eyes suddenly turning to him questioningly. Holding his nerve, he continued. “We’ve heard a good range of opinions around the table as to whether the execution is to be public or private. So that I know exactly what you all think, I would like to conclude this matter with an open vote of the Twelve. This will inform my own decision.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jared saw his mother, over on the dais, give a discreet nod of approval at the way he had taken control. Jared turned his attention back to the table of state.

  “Good idea,” Axel said, turning to face the assembly. “All those in favor of publicly executing the assassin, please raise your hand and say aye.”

  Four hands and voices were raised—those of the Huntsman, the Woodsman, the Executioner and the Bodyguard. To these Axel now added his own.

  “Five of us are in favor of a public execution,” Axel noted. “Now all those in favor of a private execution.”

  A flurry of hands was raised and there was a second, louder, chorus of “aye.”

  “That’s seven in favor of the private execution,” Axel said. “A majority.” He turned to Jared.

  Jared nodded. “My decision is made in accordance with the majority. Prince Anders’s assassin will be executed in private.” Axel did not, Jared noticed, seem overly perturbed to be on the losing side of the vote. The Captain of the Guard now turned to the Executioner. “I suggest we meet separately after this assembly has dissolved to confirm the details.”

  “What about the Executioner’s suggestion?” Emelie persisted. “That we deliver parcels of the body to our neighboring courts?”

  Axel met her gaze. “I’m not saying I don’t find the dramatic gesture rather appealing,” he acknowledged, “but I think, as the Poet outlined—at considerable length—we need to move the investigation to the next stage before risking such a provocative gesture.”

  “It’s unlike you to be so cautious,” Jonas observed.

  “There’s a difference,” Axel observed, “between taking decisive action and inflammatory action. The next few days will prove critical to how Archenfield is perceived both internally and externally. I’m certainly not opposed to making some very tough decisions and making some extremely strong gestures but I think it’s prudent to have more facts at my disposal before doing so.”

  “I agree,” Prince Jared said. “Let us hear fresh reports from our spies abroad.”

  “Yes!” Logan said. “What is taking them so long? We need their reports.”

  “And we will have them,” Axel said, clearly irritated. “But remember that I am dependent on horses and falcons. I can’t just click my fingers and accelerate the process, much as I would like to.”

  Logan shook his head. Jared could see that the old enmity was back—with a vengeance.

  “I agree with the Captain of the Guard,” Nova Chastain said. “We should wait until such time as we have more information at our disposal.”

  “Hear, hear,” added Elias.

  Lucas simply nodded.

  Emelie Sands sat back in her chair, defeated for now but shaking her head to demonstrate her ongoing disagreement.

  Axel turned to Jared. “Well, we have reached a majority decision over the execution. I believe that is our business concluded for the day.”

  “Not quite,” Jared said, pleased to see the expression of surprise on his cousin’s face. “There is one additional order of our business today.”

  “No one informed me of this,” Axel said, consulting his papers.

  Prince Jared rose to his feet, “I have decided it is time to appoint my Edling.”

  Axel was not the only one taken aback by the Prince’s surprise announcement. Suddenly everyone sat up that bit straighter and more alert, both around the table of state and up on the royal dais.

  “My choice was a very simple one,” Jared continued, aware once more of his mother watching him from the dais. “And I’m delighted to proclaim that my chosen Edling is Axel Blaxland.”

  At these words, there was a brief ripple of applause—but it did not, unsurprisingly, emanate from all quarters. Undeterred, Axel rose to his feet as Jared extended his hand toward his cousin. Smiling with undisguised delight, Axel fell to his knees and kissed his hand. It was, Jared knew, the traditional response from Edling to Prince, but nonetheless it was a shock to find the usually cocksure Axel kneeling before him.

  Jared glanced over Axel’s head to the dais. His own mother was smiling serenely—why wouldn’t she when he had done her precise bidding? Beside her, however, Edvin’s expression was harder to read. His younger brother’s eyes seemed locked onto the middle distance as if he were gazing out to some distant shore only he could see.

  Turning back, Jared seized the opportunity to address his new Edling and the assembly.

  “Cousin Axel, I know you will do me personally and the court as a whole proud in the role of Edling. You have been an unswervingly loyal and effective Captain of the Guard to both my father and my brother and now also to me. No one has worked more tirelessly to make safe the Princedom. Though we are all still in shock about what happened here two days ago, let your appointment be a clear sign—to you and to all others—that neither I nor my family hold you in any way responsible. Indeed, when I speak of family, I want to say that there should no longer be any division between the Wynyard and Blaxland clans. I hope that your appointment will show you that I see you more as a brother than a cousin.”

  Jared had turned toward Axel as he spoke the final part of the speech that Logan had coached him in earlier that morning. The Prince saw how much impact the Poet’s words had. Axel’s face often seemed set with ambition and determination to achieve his goals, but now that one of his deepest, most long-held ambitions had at last been achieved, there was a decisive shift in his features. He looked almost lost in his own strong and sudden emotions.

  “I won’t let you down, cousin,” he told Jared.

  Jared reached out his hand to Axel’s again. “I know you won’t,” he said.

  He was distracted momentarily by movement on the dais. He saw that Edvin had risen to his feet and, in spite of his mother’s best efforts to dissuade him, was stepping down from the platform. Edvin met Jared’s eyes with a distant, wounded gaze, then turned and walked out of
the chamber.

  Jared was torn. He wanted nothing more than to follow him but he couldn’t. Not yet. There were other pressing matters he needed to conclude.

  Doing his best to shut out his younger brother from his thoughts, he turned back to the Twelve. “You may be wondering how Axel is to occupy two chairs at the table of state.” As anticipated, this comment got everyone’s attention. “Under normal circumstances, in becoming my Edling, Axel would be replaced immediately as Captain of the Guard. But these are not, by any means, normal circumstances and I am sure I speak for all of you when I say that in my view Axel should remain as Captain of the Guard—at least until the present danger has lifted.”

  There were nods and a few “ayes” from around the table. “I’m pleased to see that you seem to agree with me,” Jared continued, sticking closely to Logan’s script. “But, once again, I think it is important to ask you to vote.” He took a breath before continuing. “All those in favor of Axel continuing as Captain of the Guard in combination with his role as Edling, please say aye and raise your right hand.”

  Around the table, most hands shot up at once but there were three waverers—the Cook, the Beekeeper and the Falconer. Jared exchanged the briefest look with Logan.

  All this was, as the Poet had anticipated, a useful fact-finding exercise. It wasn’t hard to reason why Vera Webb was hesitant to support Axel. Evidently, she had decided to use her vote to take a stance—such was her right and Jared couldn’t blame her under the circumstances.

  That just left Nova and Emelie, whose hands remained lowered. Although the vote was not required to be unanimous, only a majority one, still Prince Jared wanted to understand what objections there were. There were too many unhealthy undercurrents in this chamber.

  “Emelie,” Jared said, turning to the Beekeeper. “Do you have concerns you would like to share with the rest of the Twelve?”