Crown of Chaos

by Sarah E. Burr

  Perry glanced at the sword Jax had placed on another nearby cot. “You don’t think the murder weapon is anything of note?”

  Jax chewed on her lower lip, hesitant to share another theory she had been forming. But if anyone would support her, it would be Perry. “I’m not so certain Florian’s sword is the murder weapon.”

  “What do you mean?” Ziri snapped to attention, having been standing watch by the infirmary entrance.

  “I’m not a physician,” Jax clarified, “but I think the blade of his sword is too big to have made such a deep, clean cut across his neck.” She lifted the sheet Perry had placed over Florian’s body, her eyes narrowing on the slim, but lethal gash severing the man’s throat. “Florian’s weapon is also covered in blood, tip to more than mid-blade.”

  Perry examined the sword before turning his focus to the man’s wound. “I think you’re onto something, dearest. From the blood pattern on the blade, it’s almost as if it were plunged into something, not drawn across a slender neck.”

  Jax found reassurance in her husband’s agreement and continued to unveil the troubling concerns that had been poking at the back of her mind ever since she’d gazed upon the sword herself. “Which means the killer didn’t leave the murder weapon behind, after all.” And its absence revealed yet another disturbing question. If the blood on the sword wasn’t Florian’s, what in the Virtues had Florian been up to in the moments before he died?

  Chapter Ten

  Perry grabbed Jax by the hand. “We should check on the others and see who bears an injury. If you’re right about the blood on Florian’s hand belonging to his attacker, we may be able to wrap up this mystery before dawn.”

  She nodded, needing no urging. She prayed that if the killer was brought to justice, Qylvard might reconsider his hasty declaration of war. His threats of abandoning the War Council still echoed in her unsettled mind.

  Ziri locked the infirmary door behind them before leading the advance up the stairs.

  Jax had gained a vague sense of the fort’s layout, enough to know that Darian’s assigned chambers were closest to the infirmary’s entrance. “We know Duke Fangard wasn’t bleeding from any wounds inflicted by Florian, so we can skip him for now.” She gathered her skirts and took the stairs two at a time to keep up with the graceful acolyte.

  Ziri waved for Jax and Perry to follow her, having reached the mouth of the first-floor corridor. “Duchess Zaltor’s room is nearby.”

  The acolyte stopped at a door only five down from Darian’s suite in the western wing, unlocking it with the master key before raising a fist to knock. The door rattled with each blow, a few seconds passing before a muffled voice growled from the other side.

  Katalina Zaltor appeared in the doorway, her dark hair wild with tangles. Wiping her eyes as she fought back a yawn, she did a doubletake upon realizing who stood in front of her. “Virtues, what is the meaning of this? It’s not even four in the morning!” Her regal gaze narrowed on Jax.

  Jax fought against the embarrassed heat rising to her cheeks. Either the Duchess’s brain was so addled by sleep that she’d forgotten to grab her dressing gown, or the Zaltorian beauty simply didn’t care that she stood in front of them, clad only in a thin, skimpy negligee. Goodness, I hope the remaining sovereigns opted for more conservative sleeping attire. The memory of Delphinia’s wrinkled, flapping skin assaulted her mind for a brief moment before Jax banished it away, focusing on the much more attractive sight before her. At least Katalina’s lack of clothing made their task simple. From where Jax stood, even in the faint light of the luminescent moonstone, it was clear the Zaltorian’s flawless ebony skin had not been marred by any blade.

  “Duchess Zaltor,” Ziri spoke, cutting through the thick tension, “there has been an incident risking the security of the sovereigns. Might we have a word?”

  Katalina straightened, her lithe figure taut with tension. “An incident?” Her gaze once more slid to Jax. “What’s happened, Jacqueline?”

  Jax bowed her chin in deference to the woman. “Please, Katalina, may we speak with you privately?”

  Katalina’s lips curled downward. “Where is my personal guard? Where is the Knight of Grace assigned to me?” She poked her head out and searched up and down the hall. “Where is everyone?”

  Although frustrated, Jax realized she needed to gain the Duchess’s trust before continuing her questioning further. After all, Katalina likely viewed their intrusion as a grave threat, given she had sided with Savant’s Coalition of Right. “A fire started out in one of the guardhouses, pulling all the Knights of Grace from their posts.”

  Katalina sneered. “Except the Knight assigned to protect you.”

  “I am not acting in that capacity at the moment,” Ziri replied with equal fierceness. “A more urgent matter has arisen.”

  “More urgent than a fire? Why haven’t we been evacuated?” Katalina asked.

  “Because we are safest inside the moonstone fortress,” Jax explained. “The outer buildings have all been torched and our exits are barred by fire for now.” She gritted her teeth. “Please, let us come in and explain. I swear on the Virtues no harm will come to you.”

  “Well, you’ve always been a woman of your word, Jacqueline.” Katalina’s curiosity won out, and she ushered them inside her cozy chamber.

  “P-perhaps you’d like to change first, Duchess?” Perry’s voice had pre-pubescent squeak to it.

  Jax glanced at her husband, whose eyes were nearly the size of teacup saucers, clearly still recovering from the shock of seeing the stunning Duchess in such scanty attire. Jax had to admit, the woman might as well be standing before them naked.

  Katalina’s lips twisted into a feline grin, but she acquiesced and pulled on a silky robe. “I hope your husband is more appreciative when he gazes upon your figure, Jacqueline.”

  The Zaltorian’s light jest eased the tension building in Jax’s shoulders, although she was still very much aware this woman had sided with her enemies. Just because she did not bear a wound from Florian’s blade didn’t mean she couldn’t have had a hand in his death.

  Katalina sank onto her bed, offering Jax and Perry the two armchairs adorning her small room. Ziri remained standing guard at the door. “I assume this is private enough?” the Zaltorian asked with a smirk.

  Jax clasped her hands on her lap. “I’ll get right to it. Duke Pettraud and I were drawn from our rooms by the commotion outside. We woke up…” she glanced at the rudimentary clock perched on the mantle of the hearth, “less than two hours ago, hearing shouting from the window of my chamber. Finding no one in the hallway outside, the Duke and I decided to investigate the cause of the chaos.”

  Katalina snorted as she raised an eyebrow. “Sounds characteristic, given your proclivity for unearthing the truth.”

  The woman’s words didn’t sound as harsh as Jax would have expected. In fact, she could have sworn she detected a trace of admiration in the offhanded comment.

  “We made it to the tower’s entrance,” Jax continued, “before we were turned away by Acolyte Axesinger. She asked us to return to our rooms for our own protection. We intended to comply, but since all the Knights had been summoned outside to wrangle the blaze, my husband did not think it safe for us to wander the fortress, unarmed.” She reached for Perry’s hand and squeezed it tenderly.

  Perry took up the tale. “I remembered a few swords hanging on display in the grand hall while we were in session earlier. I figured I could grab one quickly.”

  Katalina raised an eyebrow. “I take it things did not go so smoothly?”

  Jax smirked at her candidness, but quickly rearranged her features to reflect the somber news she now delivered. “Inside the grand hall, we came across Duke Florian’s body and found his throat had been slit.”

  The Duchess of Zaltor clearly had not been expecting the story to take such a nasty turn. Her orchid eyes widened as a hand flew to her mouth, a gasp whispering through her long fingers.

  Perry
leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “His body was still warm to the touch when we found him. He hadn’t been dead long at all.”

  “Virtues…” Katalina’s expression morphed into one of sorrow. “What did Florian get himself into?” She cradled her face in her hands.

  Jax and Perry both kept silent, hoping she would elaborate further.

  When she straightened, the hard edge had disappeared from Katalina’s gaze. “I assume since you are here, you are looking into the matter, Jacqueline?”

  “With the Knights of Grace stretched so thin dealing with the fire outside, Acolyte Axesinger requested my assistance to help bring Florian’s killer to justice.”

  A small smile broke through Katalina’s tired exterior. “A noble purpose. Although somewhat surprising, since Florian aligned himself with your enemies.”

  Jax wore a calm mask. “Florian was a great friend to the Xaviers for most of his life. Despite recent revelations about his newfound loyalties, I wouldn’t be a proponent of the Virtues if I let his killer walk free.”

  With a swift sweep of her long limbs, Katalina lounged across her bed, staring at the moonstone ceiling. She loosed a heavy sigh before speaking. “Not that it changes much now, but if it makes you feel any better, it took quite a bit of convincing for Florian and Amyra to join the Coalition of Right.”

  Her sudden change in subject had Jax on edge. What did that have to do with anything?

  Katalina continued. “Qylvard began wooing them both during the height of summer, soon after I made known my intention to join him. He thought if he could sway the smaller nations to his fledgling coalition, we might be able to match the strength of Saphire. Of course,” she paused for effect, “Amyra dragged her feet, boasting her duchy’s neutrality in decades past. Florian simply laughed off Qylvard’s advances. He told Savant even the Virtues themselves couldn’t pry him from Saphire’s side.” Her voice grew quiet. “But then, the unthinkable happened. Florian’s children were lost at sea in an autumn squall and his whole world fell apart. I arrived in Hestes to pay my respects and found a shell of the man he once was. And who was beside him, whispering in his ear, but Savant.” A menacing darkness laced Katalina’s words, as if reproachful. “Not a week later, both Amyra and Florian joined our merry little band.”

  Jax hesitated before speaking, wondering if she had made the right judgment. “Katalina, why do I get the distinct impression that you do not truly support the Coalition of Right?”

  “Because you have half a brain, Jacqueline, unlike many of our counterparts.” Katalina winced in apology after glancing at Perry. “No offense, Duke Pettraud, but I’ve yet to form an opinion of you yet, other than you have good taste in women.”

  Perry chuckled warily, sharing a nervous look with his wife. “None taken.”

  Jax’s brow furrowed. “If you don’t support Savant’s beliefs, why not side with us?”

  “Because I don’t support yours, either.” She waved a hand before pushing herself into an upright position once more. “All these elections you’re implementing…Virtues, it sounds so tiresome having to constantly listen and bow to the will of the people. If I had my way, I’d simply level the playing field among the common-born and nobility and rule them equally as only I see fit. Enough of courtiers and advisors telling me how to rule my nation. I’m of ducal birth, for Virtues’ sake. I have been divinely bestowed the right and ability to lead my people to prosperity.”

  Jax pressed her lips shut. She hadn’t come to the War Council to force her methods of governing on the other duchies. That would come later. Perhaps if she’d made it clear that she only wanted to rule Saphire as she wished in peace, Jax wouldn’t have found herself short one potential ally.

  Katalina rose from her bed with sinewy grace. “Your mask is slipping, Jacqueline.” Leaning against the lone windowsill, the Zaltorian Duchess appraised Jax in the moonlight streaming in from the window. “Could you really stand idly by and allow me to rule my own people as I see fit, after this disease of enlightenment you’ve been afflicted with?” She stalked around the perimeter of the room, watchful. “The Duchy of Pettraud has already caved to your demands, and my spies tell me Mensina is soon to follow suit.”

  Perry’s back straightened at the condescension in her tone. “Pettraud has not caved to Saphire. I believe it is in the best interests of my citizens to allow them to rule themselves, while I oversee the nation’s treasury and security.”

  Katalina purred. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, dear Duke.”

  Jax feared her husband’s desire to defend his ideals might derail the conversation entirely and tried to navigate back to more relevant ground. “I appreciate the intelligence surrounding how the Coalition of Right came to be, but what does any of this have to do with Florian’s death?”

  The Zaltorian stopped her pacing in front of Ziri, eyeing the regal warrior from head to toe. “I believe it has everything to do with it.” Her orchid gaze turned steely.

  Jax quieted at the woman’s conviction, mentally replaying all she’d shared. But then, the unthinkable happened. Florian’s children were lost at sea in an autumn squall and his whole world fell apart…Not a week later, both Amyra and Florian joined our merry little band. “Are you suggesting Savant somehow orchestrated the deaths of Florian’s children?”

  A glimmer of respect sparkled in Katalina’s eyes. “It is not so much what I believe, but what I know to be true. Florian’s heirs were ripped from him, his duchy’s future thrown into chaos, and yet, for some reason, he decides to turn his back on his greatest ally.”

  Jax nodded as she puzzled over everything. “Savant must have made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. Both Florian and Amyra.”

  A satisfied smile stretched across Katalina’s lips. “It wouldn’t surprise me if that offer is somehow tied to Florian’s demise.”

  Perry frowned. “What did the Coalition of Right offer you? If you don’t agree with Savant’s vendetta against Jacqueline, why did you decide to side with him?”

  Katalina shrugged. “Savant offered me the freedom to do what I wanted. I’d lend the Zaltorian ducal forces to the Coalition’s armies, in exchange for the freedom to restructure my own duchy as I see fit.” She blew on her fingernails, looking bored. “No courtiers telling me what to do, no noble families yapping for my attention. Just me and my vision for Zaltor’s future.”

  A sheen of megalomania coated Katalina’s features, sending a chill of unease through Jax. If the Duchess had her way, she could become a problem in the not-so-distant future. Just because the woman deemed it right to level the noble and common-born classes with equal status didn’t mean all her people would be treated justly and fairly if she were the only source of rule and law.

  “You’ve given us a great deal to think about, Duchess.” Jax rose from her chair, ready to flee the viper’s den. “Might I use your washroom quickly?”

  Katalina motioned to the only other door in the room.

  Dodging inside, Jax quickly scanned the tiny area, wishing she had more light, other than the glowing moonstone, which had now faded into a dull, green hue. She detected no signs of blood, neither in the wash basin, or on any of the towels or dirty clothes piled in the small hamper.

  With a sigh, Jax balled her fist and slammed it in defeat against the cold stone wall. That would have been too easy, I suppose.

  She emerged from the washroom, silently communicating to Perry it was time for them to leave. Katalina might be a dangerously unpredictable foe, but she was not their killer.

  Chapter Eleven

  George wiped his brow, smudging the soot that clung to his chiseled features. His breathing heavy, he assessed the damage. In the hours since he’d awakened, the Knights of Grace and the escorts had made little headway containing the blaze. While Fort Vyndheim’s main tower was made entirely of moonstone, the outer structures and storehouses boasted thatched roofs and wooden frames, that were, despite the earlier passing rain shower, still inc
redibly flammable. The flames had skillfully managed to jump from the burning guardhouse to the nearby mess hall and granary, stretching the limits of those gathered to combat the inferno.

  Ivan huffed at his side, rolling his shoulders against the weight of the water buckets he held. “It’s getting worse as time wears on. Shouldn’t we try to evacuate?”

  George followed his gaze, his teeth clenched at the sight of the burning fort gates. The wooden threshold surrounding the iron doors had been ravaged by the fiery assault, making the entrance too unstable to pass. “As much as I want to get Jax and Perry out of here, it’s far too dangerous to open the gates and risk the entire entryway collapsing down on someone. The acolyte Prelate Brath sent to alert the forces at Fort Uhstal barely made it out alive.” He glanced back at the unfazed tower of moonstone, nestled at the far end of the compound, just out of reach of the chaos. “That building is probably the safest place for them to be right now.”

  “Do you think they’ve been told about the fire?”

  Prelate Brath’s hulking figure interrupted George’s forming answer. The Knight of Grace looked bruised and beaten, but he still stood tall and resolute in his mission. “We need to set the horses loose. The fire is within licking distance of the stables. Can you two see to that?”

  George’s stomach tightened. “Where should we put the animals? We can’t have them running wildly around the courtyard.” He motioned to the flurry of activity as Knights and escorts ran with buckets of water pulled from the wells scattered around the grounds. George’s neck tightened as he pictured the scene. There was another reason the prelate’s command unsettled him. Their mounts were their only method of transport. They needed to keep the horses safe and secure, otherwise, George and his friends would be deserted in the middle of the volcanic Cetachi wilds without the means to escape.