The Axe and the Throne (31 page)

Annora must have flung Sture to the ground before coming to help her, because after the two of them wrestled from the aqueduct what turned out to be a tiny girl with stark-white hair, Sture was covered in dirt and irate.

“You do not lay hands upon an Adeltian highborn, you servant whore! I will have you flayed for this!”

The little girl was crying, drenched from the waist down, but, from the looks of it, otherwise unharmed.

“She could have been
killed
.” Annora's Spicelander accent was unsuppressed by her normally careful articulation.

“My father, Alther, will see that no harm comes to her for helping to save a girl's life.” Evoking the king's name rather than just her father's would have been more consequential, but Ethel had no mind to speak his name again after the ball. “You overstep yourself. You may be highborn, but you are still a conquered people. It would do you well to remember.”

It was the simple truth. Ethel had been told by her mother that Adeltians were always a proud people, but that prior to the short and bloody war, their pride had had more justification. All the best had been lost during the fight to save their kingdom. To Ethel, all that seemed to remain of the once noble Adeltians were the dregs and detritus. The irony was not lost on her that the very thing that made their land so rich for farming was now unfortunately foremost in their people.
If only the likes of Sture could have been lost and buried, feeding the crops, so that our best could have remained.

Clearly relieved that they had not been accomplice to murder, Sture's two friends returned to his side, further bolstering his confidence. “Do not assume that your sleeping with the enemy will keep you safe for long. Adeltian traitors will suffer the same fate as the Rivervalian scum when the time comes.” Sture spit in their direction, turned on a heel, and left with his friends in tow.

Ethel and Annora shifted their attention to the soaked girl.

“What is your name?” Ethel asked her. “We will take you home.”

A few sobs later the girl managed to say, “Eaira,” then after a few more, “of House Eddlebrook.”

Ethel recognized the house name as Rivervalian. Her parents must have been among the Rivervalians who had come to assume positions of governance that were no longer suitable for Adeltians. Other than Cassen, no Adeltians held positions of governance or power beyond that of a merchant—though merchants were often among the richest in the kingdom. Because so few wished to leave Rivervale, the task of filling those positions left vacant fell on some of the poorer of the noble families, giving Adeltians further cause for feeling superior. It also explained the girl's plain dress.

With Eaira between them, they began to walk her home. Ethel could see in Annora's expression a look of distress, potentially well founded. A servant laying hands upon nobility was not acceptable, and Lyell was always too happy to appease Adeltian nobility.

“You will not be harmed for what happened today. I give you my word,” Ethel reassured her. “You saved her life.”
Even should I have to marry my grandfather to become queen, I will not let harm befall my only friend.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Derudin, what would you have me do? I cannot imprison a man on the basis of what my First—a man who is known to despise him—sees. Sees with closed eyes, at that.” Lyell filled his lungs, letting his breath out in frustration. “No man has contributed to nor profited more from this kingdom than has Cassen. I find it hard to believe that he would be involved in such schemes.”

“I am only informing you of what I have seen,” Derudin said. “I believe Cassen not just to be involved, but to be one of the architects. I merely ask that you keep that in mind when he speaks with us today.”

Meetings always made the king ill-tempered, but this impromptu High Council meeting was something of a different nature. Derudin thought it a good sign that the king was not already raging.

“Yes, yes, I will,” said Lyell. “You do know the boy cracked before even having been questioned? He has named several Adeltian nobles, all of which we already knew about, and is claiming he intended to tell us all along—that pompous ass. I do not believe he realizes just how thorough our spies are. No mention of Cassen, however, you will be disappointed to hear. And Crella has thus far been silent.” The king motioned for a servant to bring him more wine.

Derudin ran a finger along the joint of the tabletop before him, admiring the way the two narrow pieces, which normally served as console tables on either side of the entryway, came together in combination with Lyell's desk to form a single seamless structure. This work of finery, aside from being a reminder of hundreds years past when skills such as woodworking were as much an art as a profession, had been the centerpiece of High Council meetings ever since the taking of Adeltia. Derudin silently cursed Cassen for having robbed him of the joy of seeing this masterpiece put together as a whole for so long.

As the servant topped off the king's goblet, a commotion was heard from outside the room.

“Let him in.” Lyell spoke with annoyance as if he'd anticipated the occurrence.

It was Alther, and he wasted no time storming down the entryway.
How does a father tell his son that he has imprisoned his son and wife?
Derudin had not advised the king on how best to handle this; it was not his area of expertise.

“Where are they?” Alther had come to a stop on the opposite side of the table from Derudin, standing closer to the king than was usual. “If they have been hurt I will hold you accountable.”

Alther spoke to his father in a way that seemed to Derudin to be rather uncharacteristic even given the circumstances. Alther had always been ingratiating and compliant when it came to his father. Then again, most men who valued their wellbeing did their best to do the same in the king's presence.

“Yes, I am sure you will. And I am also sure you will expect me to hold
them
accountable for any crimes they may have committed.” Lyell's voice was calm but challenging.

“
What crimes
? Crella is no criminal, and she has been accommodating in accepting your request for us to move to Westport.”

“It was not a request,” corrected Lyell. “And was this before or after Stephon nearly killed you with a vase and she hid him away with her Adeltian friends?”

Derudin could see the look of guilt on Alther's face as he paused to determine his best response. Lyell must have as well.

“Oh, so you knew it was Stephon who attacked you? And you allowed the show of the search for your assailant to go on?” The king's voice rattled with indignation. “I am sure some of your loyal servants were questioned quite thoroughly, and you, no doubt, would expect the same treatment to befall your loving wife and son should they be accused of a crime.”

“He is my son, and I will handle his punishment. I gave strict instruction that none of the servants were to be mistreated. There was no need for all of this.” Alther waved his hand about the room.

Lyell shook his head. “Do you think I would call a meeting of the High Council because your brat of a boy cracked you on the head?”

Alther wore a look of confusion when a door guard indicated that the remaining High Council members had gathered outside the room.

“Send them in.” Lyell spoke as if already exhausted.

The first to enter was a man of countless years. Master Larimar had long dirty-grey hair that hung from his head and cheeks in wispy patches. He was bent over as he walked, though not using a cane or any instrument to assist his movement, shuffling his feet one after the other with considerable effort. He had the look of a man who was not content unless sitting in a chair, hunched over a book, and even then he was like to be less than affable. He made his way toward the center of the table where a very large, very old book had been placed, already opened. Beside it sat a small onyx pot with the feathers of two quills protruding from it. As the Master of Records, Larimar was responsible for recording and recalling the events of High Council meetings both present and past, and his influence, as such, was limited to the way in which he framed those writings and recollections.
Enough influence to send a kingdom to ruin if he so desired.

The man who followed was an imposing figure. The ornate crest of The Guard was emblazoned upon his ornamental breastplate. Master Warin stood half a head above all others in attendance, save for the king, and easily weighed half again as much. Although he did not appear to have retained the speed and grace of his youth, during which he had held the title of tournament champion for three years, his strength appeared to still be fully intact.

Last to enter was Cassen, who flowed in with his usual elegance in spite of his roundness. His gaze immediately went to Derudin.
Surprised to see me?
thought Derudin, noticing what appeared to be a glimmer of fear in the man's eyes.
I know what you are planning, eunuch.

There would be no Master of Forces or Master Treasurer present, nor had there ever been when Lyell ruled. He alone managed his military and finances, believing that to assign a single man to oversee the entirety of his army or his treasury would be an invitation for overthrow. Derudin had seen as much happen in kingdoms past and thought it among Lyell's wiser decisions. Nonetheless, when all the men were seated, two chairs remained vacant.

“Due to the short notice of this meeting, Duke Veront and Lord Edwin will not be attending,” declared Lyell. He glanced momentarily at both Cassen and Derudin to ensure neither man meant to start a quarrel with the other. “You may proceed, Larimar.”

“On this, the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth month of the eight hundred and fifty-second year, an unscheduled meeting of the High Council was called to resolve the issue regarding…” Larimar trailed off to indicate the need for someone to complete his sentence.

“Regarding the arrest of Crella,” said Lyell. “Wife of Alther of House Redrivers, son of the king, and the arrest of Stephon of House Redrivers, son of Alther, both heirs to the throne and so forth… Both on account of treason.”

“
Treason
?” said Alther, demanding explanation. He was now back on his feet, his momentary compliance vanished along with proper High Council decorum.

Master Larimar continued as if the interruption was of no consequence. “Let the record show all members of the Council are in attendance save Duke Veront and Lord Edwin due to circumstance of—”

“I demand proof of these accusations!” interrupted Alther.

Lyell stared at his son coldly. Derudin's main attention was on Cassen, searching for signs of guilt, but he currently looked quite pleased.
How can you remain so calm?
Derudin had hoped the arrest of co-conspirators and the threat of Cassen's name being revealed under torture would have shaken the man.

“As you must know, my boy, we have spies placed throughout the kingdom. When so much as a vase is cracked, we know of it. How else do you think I maintain order as a Rivervalian ruling over a city of Adeltians constantly plotting revenge? And revenge for what? Deposing a senseless queen and allowing them to—”

Alther cut off the king, “Striking one's father is no act of
treason
. He is a fool boy, and I will punish him accordingly. His mother too for having first hidden the truth from me. No one was hurt in this, save for me, and I will deal my
own
justice to my
own
wife and child.”

Master Warin shifted noisily in his chair.

“Let the record show that one serving girl was drowned,” said Larimar as he scratched the words into his book. “
Accidentally
of course. During questioning regarding the attack on Alther, first heir to the throne.” Larimar seemed to take particular delight in taunting both Master Warin and Alther with this declaration. How exactly he had come to know such information was a mystery to Derudin.

“Drowned?” The blood had already drained from Alther's face. “
Who
?”

“Must that be recorded?” asked Master Warin. His long brown locks swayed with the motion of his shaking head. “The fool girl inhaled during simple water immersion, and our questioners were unable to expel the fluid from her weak lungs. It was no fault of ours, really.”

“I can put a line through it if you wish,” Larimar stated, acquiring a deadpan expression. “But once written, a record in the book of histories shall not be redacted.”

“Enough of this nonsense,” shouted the king. “I will not hear another word of this incident which has no bearing on this meeting. Crella, Stephon, and the Adeltian ingrates they call friends are charged with treason for having colluded to poison the very members of this council and seize control of the city. The evidence of their involvement is irrefutable.”

Master Larimar nodded to himself while recording what Lyell had said, adding, “The punishment for which is death by impalement.”

“This is lunacy! Crella would never do such a thing. It is unthinkable.” Alther's mouth remained slightly agape, and he put his hand to his head as if to help him think.

It was true, the evidence against Crella was more circumstantial than that against her son, who had been seen and heard planning the exact nature of the events that would lead to their subversion. However, it was hard for an unbiased observer, which Derudin believed himself to be, to accept that she had no involvement given the way she concealed her son's attack on Alther and with whom she'd chosen to assist her in the matter. She was also of pure Adeltian blood and had had no say in the man she had married.
Some grudges do not lessen with time… I should know.

“If I may interject,” said Cassen, “I do believe it would be unwise to impale members of the royal family. Especially those of Adeltian blood.”

Derudin could not help himself but to shoot a sly glance at the king as if to confirm with him that Cassen's cry for leniency was self-implicating.

“Would imprisonment not suffice our needs without causing hysteria among the masses?” continued Cassen. “Westport is already ripe for rebellion, and our focus should be on questioning all those currently imprisoned to determine who the mastermind behind this treachery truly was, in the event that he has not yet been apprehended.”

The king did not have to mirror Derudin's previous glance for Derudin to realize he must have interpreted Cassen's words to mean he had just exonerated himself of all guilt.
Damn this eunuch.

“I have been lenient with Adeltian highborn for far too long. We will skewer
Lord
Junton and all his minions to demonstrate the price of treason. Crella and the boy will escape such punishment and will instead remain in confinement, so long as they confess and name any others involved yet to be arrested.” Lyell's voice carried the confidence of a man who had just arranged a grand compromise, the sagacity of which was incontestable.

Alther growled at the king between clenched teeth, “I will not allow you to sentence my wife and child to a life of imprisonment on the basis of the whisperings of people who are paid to listen and lie.” Alther had a fury Derudin had never before seen in the man. He wondered if Alther's newfound defiance was the result of his brush with death or because the fate of his wife and son now hung in the balance.