Allies & Assassins Page 5

  Several centuries previously, fourteen titles had been carved into the surface of the oak and hot pewter had been poured into the lines of the inscriptions. The nameplates, which designated the correct position at the table for key members of the court, were as clear today as the day the pewter had been set. Jared stared down at the words “The Edling.” This marked the place, at the foot of the table, where he had sat at council meetings for the past two years. Each place around the table bore a similar script, designating the correct position for the key members of the court. Currently, three seats remained empty—“The Edling,” “The Captain of the Guard” and “The Prince.” Jared gazed up the length of the table, noting how Axel’s hands were still tightly gripping about the Prince’s chair. Jared smiled to himself. His cousin could not have made his position any clearer. Axel Blaxland was not even the Edling, yet already he had his sights on the Prince’s chair.

  Filled with sudden purpose, Jared strode around the perimeter of the table until he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Axel. Axel’s hands still rested on the intricately carved cresting rail at the top of the chair. It seemed as if another impasse had been reached. Jared was unsure how to break it. Fortunately, he did not have to. Smiling at his cousin, Axel drew back the chair. “Please, Prince Jared, take your rightful seat,” he said, willingly relinquishing his hold.

  As Jared sat down for the first time in the Prince’s chair, he was suddenly aware of all the others rising to their feet. This they did in unison, quite soundlessly. He noticed too that his fellow royals, up on the dais, were also now on their feet. Jared was in no doubt he was the chief focus of the room. He had a sudden awareness that, from then on, he would always be the chief focus of every room he entered. It was not a comfortable epiphany.

  “Thank you,” he said, gesturing for them all to sit down. It felt strange to be sitting at the opposite end of the table from before. Staring down past the empty chair—waiting upon his decision to nominate his own Edling—his eyes were drawn to the vast mural on the wall beyond. He had been aware of the formidable painting before, of course, but this was the first time he had ever truly engaged with it. The mural told Archenfield’s story, from its tempestuous beginnings to the peace brokered by his brother Anders’s succession. He realized now that Anders’s eyes must have scanned the same mural every time he had taken his seat at the table of state. Had his brother, with his innate sense of entitlement, drawn comfort from this image? Jared could imagine him, unfettered by self-doubt, congratulating himself on the decisive victory over Eronesia. Anders had always felt himself to be preordained as the latest and greatest Prince of Archenfield. Jared, however, found the mural intimidating. It made him feel as though the eyes of those not only in the room but of each and every one of Archenfield’s previous rulers were scrutinizing him. Doubtless, his value had risen, almost alchemically, today—but his true worth was yet to be determined.

  Jared was aware that the others in the room were now waiting on his lead. He knew that he had to take some kind of control—for his own sake as much as theirs. He cleared his throat. “There are urgent matters to address. Axel, perhaps you could summarize for the latecomers to this meeting where you had gotten to before our arrival?”

  Axel, alone of the assembly, had remained on his feet, though now at least his hands gripped the back of his own designated chair of the Captain of the Guard. He nodded to acknowledge Prince Jared’s question. “I was informing the others of what we have done to make safe the Princedom and seek out your brother’s assassin.” He paused. “Working outward, the palace buildings and grounds are all being searched.”

  “Yes,” Elin noted in a piercing whisper to Edvin. “It’s true one can’t walk from one chamber to another without encountering a member of the Household Guard, dagger at the ready.”

  Ignoring his aunt’s latest aside, Axel continued. “Our guards have extended through the grounds and beyond.” He glanced at Jonas Drummond, the Woodsman, who picked up his cue.

  “My team and I have activated the traps within the forest. Rest assured, it will not offer any fugitive safe haven. Quite the reverse.”

  There was the flicker of a smile on Axel’s face as he continued. “Quite so. And the borders are all locked down too.” He was addressing the information directly to Jared. “Nova sent one of her falcons to each of the gatekeepers as soon as we made the discovery…”

  Elin was heard clearing her throat. “Can you remind us all what time that was?”

  “Just before sunup,” Axel answered, without turning to meet her gaze.

  “So much time has passed already,” Elin said. “Do you feel confident you have closed down every possible escape route?’

  Nova spoke up. “I sent out my falcons, as the Captain of the Guard commanded me to—one to each of the border gates. They carried a message to lock down the borders and take all appropriate actions.”

  “Yes, well, that’s very impressive,” Elin said, somewhat dismissively. “Though I’m starting to form the impression that these actions were taken before word was sent to your new Prince. I realize we are in a state of emergency, but all the more reason to adhere to the proper order of things.”

  Nova was silenced by Elin’s stinging attack. Axel stepped back into the fray. It was to Jared he addressed his words.

  “We keep meticulous records of every man, woman and child who crosses our borders. I have possession of the current ledgers and there have been no border crossings during the past week.” He paused for effect. “Therefore, Prince Anders’s assassin must still be here in Archenfield.”

  “Assuming that the reports are accurate,” Elin interjected. “And that our defenses are as inviolable as you say.”

  “You may be confident on both counts,” Axel told her.

  Jared had a question for Elias Peck, the Physician. “Do you feel confident you will soon be able to tell us how my brother died?”

  The Physician nodded. “Yes, I have already narrowed down the range of options considerably. As soon as this meeting is concluded, I will return to my rooms to do a postmortem.”

  “Thank you,” Jared said. There was something in Elias Peck’s manner that instilled utter confidence. “For my part, I feel happy to give you leave to return to your work now. It seems to me that there is nothing so important at this moment than your examination of my… of the Prince’s body.”

  To Jared’s surprise, Elias looked anguished rather than relieved. Axel’s voice was heard again. “This will not be a lengthy meeting, Prince Jared, and Elias is not merely the Physician but a key member of the Twelve. It is right and fitting that he should remain here to cast his vote on other matters that may arise.”

  Jared was unconvinced but he saw no value in further challenging the ways of the council at this juncture. “There’s really only one question on my mind,” he said. “I feel sure it’s the same for the rest of you too.” He took a breath. “Who could have wanted my brother to die?”

  Father Simeon nodded. “You’re right. That is the question on each of our lips. And we must work together, tirelessly, to answer that question.”

  “Do you have any thoughts?” Jared asked. The question, filled with his own deep need, came out wrong, with an emphasis on “any.”

  “We are pursuing several lines of inquiry,” Axel continued, undeterred. “In my opinion, the most likely scenario is that this was an act of provocation from one of our rival states.”

  Father Simeon frowned. “But we are at peace with our neighbors,” he said. His eyes alighted on the mural once again as he spoke.

  “Yes,” Axel agreed. “As far as we know, we are at peace with our neighbor domains. Our spies in foreign courts have reported nothing to the contrary.”

  “Then perhaps,” Elin interjected, “you need to push your spies to dig a little deeper and a lot faster.”

  “Indeed,” Axel said. “Previously, the most likely adversary would have been Eronesia. It’s hard to think they could be ready to mount a
fresh attack, but with allies, perhaps? We can never dismiss the threat from Paddenburg—not since those two demented princes succeeded to the throne. Previously, we might also have expected aggression from Woodlark but, for obvious reasons, that no longer seems a possibility.”

  “We shouldn’t rule them out,” Hal Harness said.

  Jared’s eyes turned to Hal, now his Chief Bodyguard. It was Hal’s first contribution to the discussion.

  The Prince shook his head. “I think we can safely conclude that Anders and Silva’s marriage brought an end to all enmity between us and Woodlark.” He frowned. “But, as I say, to the best of our knowledge, aren’t we at peace with all of our neighbors?”

  Axel nodded. “Yes, but Prince Jared, I’m afraid that peace is not guaranteed forever. This act—your brother’s murder—could signal the beginning of a new threat.”

  Elin took the floor once more. “At one time or another, we’ve had to take arms against each and every one of our neighbors.” She pointed to the mural. “Look there, if you need evidence that battles have always been a thread in the tapestry of our homeland.”

  Axel nodded somberly. “That time may have come once again.’

  “Then so be it.” Elin was resolute.

  Jared shook his head, feeling unsettled. “It seems strange, don’t you think? In the two years that I have taken my seat at this table, we have often talked of our relationships with neighbor states. Under Prince Anders’s leadership, much was done to cement the peace he won for Archenfield.”

  “You’re right,” Kai Jagger spoke up. “A political assassination would be strange given the state of our foreign relations.” He paused. “But if Prince Anders was not murdered for political reasons, then why… and by who whom?”

  Emelie Sands attempted to answer him. “Perhaps the answer lies closer to home. Perhaps the murder was motivated by personal reasons.”

  Jared noticed the effect the Beekeeper’s words had upon his companions. The air of discomfort within the room was now palpable. He nodded. “Cousin Axel, I think you should consider a personal motive for the murder. However unthinkable it seems… if only to rule out the possibility.”

  To his surprise, Axel did not protest. “You may rest assured that every line of inquiry will be pursued, Prince Jared. I don’t think anyone could ever accuse me of taking a soft line as Captain of the Guard. My teams and I will be asking uncomfortable questions of everyone we need to. Including all those of you in this room.” He looked around the table. “If you have something to hide, you have everything to fear.”

  Jared was as surprised by the others by this shift. Hadn’t Axel himself assured him earlier that his brother’s assassin had come from outside Archenfield? Axel’s latest words prompted outcry along the table of state. Everyone began talking over one another. As the volume of chatter continued to build, Jared realized that it was his job—and his alone—to call the meeting to order. “Please, everyone!” The force of his voice achieved the desired effect. He saw that Axel had more to say and gestured for him to continue.

  “I realize, of course, that what I just said was not popular,” Axel said. “I didn’t mean it to be. We must face facts—Prince Anders is dead. And it’s my job to find out who is responsible. While I remain convinced that the attack was launched from outside the Princedom, we have to face the uncomfortable truth that our enemies have allies within our borders. Perhaps even within the palace walls.”

  “I’m sure we all understand,” Jared said. He could not keep the sadness from his voice.

  “You may be quite certain that I will uncover the truth soon enough,” Axel declared, warming to his theme. “The assassin will be identified and the Blood Price will be paid.”

  The Blood Price.

  The three simple words hung heavily in the air. The company remained silent for a time.

  Turning to Jared, Axel’s tone became more businesslike again. “You need to think about what you will tell the people. It won’t be long before Prince Jared will need to deliver his speech to them.”

  “I’ve already taken care of that,” said Logan Wilde. It was, Jared realized, the first time the Poet had spoken since the fracas at the beginning of the meeting. A silent Bodyguard was entirely to be expected, but a silent Poet was unusual. Jared wondered if Logan was still smarting from his earlier argument with Axel, or if the Poet’s mind was engaged on other matters.

  Now the Poet smiled as he addressed the Captain of the Guard once more. “Communications are my responsibility, as you so eloquently reminded me before.”

  “Well.” Jared turned to Axel again. “Is that everything? Should we release everyone to go about their business?”

  “Not quite,” Logan said. “There is the matter of arranging Prince Anders’s funeral and your coronation, Prince Jared.”

  “Yes, yes!” Axel waved his hand dismissively. It was clear that he was only to eager to commence his investigation. “But you managed it seamlessly enough two years ago. I have every confidence in your ability to do so once again.”

  “Before you all go,” Jared said, “I just want to say that today is a terrible day for each and every one of us. I do not believe—I cannot believe—that my brother’s assassin is in this room. Nevertheless, the Captain of the Guard must steer this investigation in the way he determines to be the best. But please, everyone, know that we will get through this. We will get through the dark hours and these difficult days ahead. Archenfield may be reeling now but she will rise again. She always has. She always will.”

  He hoped his words had succeeded in lifting the spirits of the assembly, if only temporarily. Had he passed his first test and made them see him as a viable Prince, or did they remain unconvinced? He couldn’t be certain. He glanced around, searching for friendly faces. Some were easily found—there could be no mistaking the genuine kindness in Lucas Curzon’s eyes. Others were considerably harder to decipher—he’d spent quite some time out in the wilds of Archenfield with the Chief Huntsman. Yet Kai Jagger remained as much of an enigma at the table of state as he did out in the glen and the forest. Jared realized with a jolt that he did not yet know which of the Twelve he could trust but knew that he had better not leave it long to find out. In truth, every single one of the Twelve was a stranger to him.

  EIGHT

  The Queen’s Quarters, the Palace

  ASTA PECK WAS QUIETLY THRILLED THAT UNCLE elias’s latest request had brought her deep into the heart of the palace, alien territory to her. She adjusted her position in the tall wooden chair by the window, lifting the cushion and propping it higher against her back. That way, she could both be comfortable and maintain a better view of the young woman sleeping in Queen Elin’s bed. We’re only separated by a few years in age, Asta reflected. But, in all other respects, we are worlds apart.

  Asta had always been fascinated by the beautiful Silva Wynyard, and, now that she was in such rare close proximity, she found it hard to draw her eyes away. Although Asta resided within the court—though not in the palace itself—the only time the two young women had met was at Anders and Silva’s wedding, when Asta had briefly been presented to the Prince’s bride. On that day, and ever since, Silva had seemed to breathe different air to Asta. She possessed an innate grace. The combination of her fair skin and her sleek gold hair, whether worn in braids or hanging simply between her narrow shoulders, made her seem less a being of this world and something far more ethereal.

  It’s good that she’s sleeping, thought Asta. Silva certainly needed to rest after the tortures the still young day had inflicted upon her. Asta had been able to piece together the story through the patchwork of conversations overheard earlier in the Prince’s chamber. According to these, Silva had been woken in the early hours by Prince Anders crying out in pain and then hammering on the door that connected their two chambers. When Silva had roused herself, she had found her husband in a state of intense distress, taking refuge by a corner post of his bed, raving about an array of terrifying beasts stalking
his bedroom and blood cascading down the walls. He had described each animal to her in horrible detail—the slimy scales and lashing tongues, the gnashing teeth and needle-sharp claws. The descriptions were horrific and more fitting with one of Father Simeon’s sermons about hell than any creatures glimpsed in the forest or mountains beyond.

  Asta saw the bedclothes move at last and Silva roused herself, sitting up and blinking her eyes for a moment as she came to terms with her strange surroundings. Asta waited for a moment, then said helpfully, “You’re in Elin’s chamber.”

  At these words, Silva’s head turned toward her. “Who are you? Why are you here? Do they think I can’t be trusted to be alone?”

  “No,” Asta said reflexively. “No, my lady,” she corrected herself, remembering Uncle Elias’s stringent instructions regarding protocol. “They thought you might welcome some company.”

  Silva smiled softly. “In truth, I’m rarely alone. Such is life at court.” She gestured to one corner of the room, where one of Elin’s maids was quietly and methodically taking dresses from her closet—perhaps choosing an appropriate one for the mourning period. “But I do appreciate the gesture. Forgive me if I ask again—who are you?”

  Asta rose to her feet at the same time that Silva placed her own feet on the floor. “My name is Asta, Asta Peck. I’m the Physician’s apprentice.” She had not expected her companion to recognize her from their one brief previous meeting.

  Just as suddenly as Silva’s eyes had found her, now her attention strayed elsewhere. A silk robe—sky blue, patterned with spring flowers—lay on the ottoman at the foot of Elin’s bed. Perhaps one of Silva’s own maids had brought it over from her chamber earlier. Asta noticed that Elin’s maid had slipped discreetly out of the room. She was alone with the Prince’s Consort.

  Silva moved toward the robe, but stopped just short of it, her hands at her side. It took Asta a moment to realize that she was expected to take the robe and help her companion into it. Silva was used to being attended to by servants. Do whatever you can to make her feel comfortable. Uncle Elias’s words ringing in her ears, Asta lifted the beautiful robe and held it open so that Silva could slip her slender arms inside. Asta briefly wondered if she was expected to tie the sash for her but was relieved when Silva’s small hands took it and knotted it herself.