Crown of Chaos
Page 16
Jax hushed her husband’s onslaught of questions, promising him she would soon explain everything when they made it upstairs. Holding up her skirts, Jax bounded up the steps, her mind racing with the possibility that she had been too blinded by her feelings and had never properly assessed the events of the War Council using her stoic, steadfast reasoning.
So engrossed in her thoughts, Jax nearly slammed into the figure that appeared at the top of the landing.
“Virtues, Jax, be careful.” Darian’s strong hands gripped her shoulders to steady her and steered her up to the landing.
“Darian?” Jax gulped, catching her breath from the near collision. “What are you doing here? How did you get out of your room?”
His cheeks blushed crimson. “I have my own copy of the fort’s master key. I had it made for safekeeping. A good thing, too. One of the Knights came to my room, asking for it so he could unlock the doors of the other rulers. The Prelate has ordered Fort Vyndheim’s evacuation once the Knights are able to take down the gate, and he’s requesting we all gather in the grand hall in a half hour for a briefing.” He looked her up and down, then nodded to Perry. “What were you two doing down in the infirmary?”
Jax waved his question aside. “We don’t have time to explain, dear uncle. Have you come across any of the others?”
Darian shook his head. “I heard Qylvard barking complaints at someone outside his room, but I have yet to see any of our counterparts come this way. Perhaps they are still gathering their things.”
Good. I’d much rather have this confrontation without an audience.
“Perry and I will join you soon, then,” Jax assured her confused uncle before motioning to Perry to follow her down the first-floor corridor.
“What are you up to?” Darian quickly caught up with his niece, his expression riddled with curiosity.
She sighed and spoke in a whisper. “I think I know who killed Florian.”
His face lit up with intrigue. “Already? What have you found?”
She shushed him, not knowing who might be lurking the halls. “In due time, Uncle. For now, do you know of any hidden passageways within Fort Vyndheim?”
Darian’s brow furrowed at the abrupt change in subject. “Hidden passages? Not that I’ve ever been made aware of…”
Jax’s suspicions startled to bubble as she stopped, hands on her hips. “How much do you know about the history of this fortress?”
He frowned at her slightly condescending tone. “A fair bit. It was built by the rebels during the War for the Rebirth. Considered the crown jewel among their outposts, legends state that the manifest for the Realm of Virtues was first drafted within these halls.” He paused, giving both Perry and Jax piercing looks. “By your ancestors.”
“Our ancestors came here?” Surprised etched Perry’s face.
Darian’s words only confirmed Jax’s growing theory. If her ancestors and Perry’s had once roamed these halls during the War for the Rebirth, she had no doubt the same was true for the other governing bloodlines.
Taking off in a full sprint, Jax did not stop until she arrived at an unadorned wooden door. Perry and Darian soon joined her, puzzled looks on their winded faces.
“Jax, love, you can’t be serious,” Perry scoffed once he realized whose room it was.
Ignoring him, she reached for the handle and pushed. The Knights must have already come by and unlocked it.
As she stepped into the room, she was met by the kindly, familiar smile of an old friend, sitting in the corner of the small room, swirling a glass of wine.
“A bit early for drinking?” Jax asked as she cautiously glided forward.
Henrik Crepsta chuckled. “If there is one thing I’ve learned during my long life, it is to never miss the opportunity to celebrate even the smallest victory.” He rose the wine to his nostrils, savoring its aroma with a grin. “I take it you aren’t here to persuade me back to your side.” He reached out a papery hand, his grip much stronger than it had been earlier. “Please believe me, Jacqueline. I never left it.”
The tightness in her chest released its grasp, and she sank into the chair next him. “I thought you had truly abandoned me, old friend. How could I have been so blind?”
Henrik squeezed her hand once more before pulling it back to his lap. “I suppose my plan wouldn’t have worked as well as it did if you hadn’t been so convinced of my treachery before the gathered War Council.”
“What plan?” Perry came to stand behind Jax, while Darian remained near the doorway, arms crossed.
Henrik raised his glass to Perry in acknowledgement. “My plan to do what was best for the realm.”
Jax remembered the words the Duke had spoken earlier, once the War Council had recessed for the day. I hope you will come to understand why I’ve done what I’ve done…I had to do what was best for the realm. It had meant nothing to her in the moment. Her stunned outrage over his duplicity had clouded her shrewd and calculating mind. But now, with what she suspected, she wondered if Henrik had been trying to send her a message from the very start.
“I’ll admit, things did not exactly go according to plan,” Henrik continued, his demeanor growing sullen. “But I made do with what the Virtues gave me.”
Jax leaned forward, clasping her hands together. “Henrik,” she asked, almost breathless, “what have you been up to?”
“Where to start?” Crepsta’s gaze had a faraway gleam to it. “I suppose it all began when I traveled to Hestes after the deaths of Florian’s children. I know a thing or two about losing a child. I thought I could be of some comfort.” His eyes grew damp, and he wiped the emotion away. “I’m afraid I arrived too late. Savant had already sunk his claws into Florian’s vulnerable state of mind, poisoning him with notions of grandeur. Since Florian had lost his family and legacy, he turned to the only thing he had left: power. And he wanted more of it.” Henrik shuddered. “In a drunken stupor, he told me of the deal he’d struck between Savant and Kwatalar. How they were to be named each other’s successors. Amyra was frightened by the changes her people were requesting and did not want to see her duchy fall to ruin, should the common-born retaliate against her. She wanted to make sure measures were in place for ducal rule to continue, which is why she elicited Savant’s help. Apparently,” Henrik explained, “she offered to make Savant her successor. But Savant saw the opportunity to woo Florian to the Coalition of Right and arranged for them to share a mutual Code of Succession, knowing how cravenly Florian sought to gain more power in the realm. The Duke of Hestes was already thinking of ways to kill Amyra and take Kwatalar for himself even before he arrived at the War Council.
“Discovering the scheme Savant had set into motion to further empower the Coalition of Right, I decided to beat him at his own game. I reached out to Qylvard, telling him I had learned of the offer he’d made Amyra and Florian, and that I wanted in. Given I had no direct heirs of my own, he easily believed I had grown tired of being in Saphire’s shadow and offered us all a new solution, which Florian and Amyra readily accepted, because it heightened their chance at more power, knowing how ill I’ve been of late.” Henrik paused, catching his breath. “Invoking the Code of Succession, I named Amyra the successor to Crepsta, and in turn, Florian named me the heir to Hestes.”
“The three of you became a triad of succession,” Jax whispered, barely daring to believe it might be true.
“But you knew of Florian’s plans to kill Amyra,” Perry said. “Why would he agree to leave Hestes to you?”
Henrik chuckled at the Duke’s naivete in political matters. “Because he saw an opportunity to claim two duchies, instead of one.”
Perry’s hand found Jax’s shoulder and squeezed it. “What do you mean?”
“Follow the Code of Succession, dearest,” Jax explained with an impatient glance. “If Florian killed Henrik, his holdings reverted to Amyra, meaning she would become the Duchess of Crespta and Kwatalar. Once Amyra was dead, then everything would transfer to Florian.”<
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“Florian made the mistake of killing Amyra first.” Henrik swirled his wineglass. “Not because of the order of succession. I’m sure he would have found a way to claim Crepsta and Kwatalar as his own using the Code. Where he made his mistake was giving me time to react. I suspected, trapped in a fortress with little protection, that Florian might make his move against us at the War Council. Virtues, for all I know, Amyra might have been planning to do the same thing. I had to remain alert. I stayed up late into the night, waiting, at the ready. When I heard the guards called from their posts because of a fire in the courtyard, I guessed Florian would use the distraction to make his move. I cracked my door open and stood watch. Not five minutes later did Florian enter our wing and slip into Amyra’s room.”
Henrik grew visibly excited as he continued. “From there, I had to move quickly. Even though I had enhanced my frailty for the sake of appearances, to lull Florian and everyone else into thinking I wouldn’t be a threat, I’m still not as young as I used to be. Luckily,” he paused to reach across and tap a large piece of parchment spread out on his bed, “I had an old family heirloom to guide me.”
Jax rose and inched toward the bedside to find an old map. “This is Fort Vyndheim,” she exclaimed in surprise.
Darian came to her side, eager to examine the old drawing. “Where did you get this?”
Henrik chuckled. “During the War for the Rebirth, my ancestor, Guilian Crespta, was considered to be one of the most revered master builders of the age. He engineered Fort Vyndheim’s design and oversaw its construction.”
Jax traced a finger along the faded lines of ink. “This map is riddled with secret passages.”
Henrik nodded. “Built into the very floors and wall around us. While he aimed for the fort to be impenetrable with its seventy-foot barrier wall, Guilian designed a failsafe, should the enemy lay claim to it.” Rising, Henrik strode over to the corner of his chamber, the hunch in his back having vanished. “Most of the first floor is connected to a tunnel that runs around the perimeter of the tower’s base, feeding into the infirmary.”
He knelt, his fingers searching the polished stone floor. A soft click infiltrated the air and Henrik propped up a small trapdoor, revealing a ladder leading down into darkness. “The tunnels connect to nearly every chamber, even the grand hall.”
“Once I knew Florian was on the move,” Henrik continued, “I hurried from my room into the grand hall through the tunnel, leaving a trail for Florian to follow.” With Darian’s assistance, he stiffly rose from the floor and seated himself back in his chair, picking up his wineglass from a small side table. “I only had to wait ten minutes or so before he popped his head up through the trapdoor in the grand hall, eyes wild with madness.”
He shuddered. “His hand and sword were covered in Amyra’s blood. The Florian I knew was nowhere to be found in this deranged man’s gaze. Thank the Virtues, for it made my next move all the more bearable. The monster that grief had warped Florian into barely scrambled out of the secret passage before I struck. He thought me unarmed and defenseless, you see.” He reached for his cane propped on his nearby bed. Gripping the handle shaped like a bear’s head, Henrik yanked it back, pulling a slim, glinting blade from the core of the staff.
Jax glanced over her shoulder at Perry, eyebrows raised. She’d had no idea Henrik’s cane doubled as a hilt for his dagger.
Henrik stared at the blade a moment, holding it to the smoky sunlight that streamed through his window. “I made sure he didn’t suffer. Despite the madness he had descended into, Florian had been a good man in life. His demise was truly tragic.” He set down the blade on the table, next to his discarded wineglass. “Once I confirmed he was dead, I took the passage back to my room, knowing it was only a matter of time before someone found his body.”
“Why did you run away?” Jax reached for his forearm. “Florian planned to kill you. You attacked him in self-defense.”
Henrik frowned. “I’m afraid I haven’t shared the more dastardly details of my plan with you yet, Jacqueline.” He wrung his hands, his mood slightly deteriorating. “You see, when I made my pact with Savant, I fully intended to kill both Florian and Amyra to gain control of their lands. Florian’s actions simply accelerated the timeline and took a bit of the dirty work off my plate.”
Jax pulled her hand back, confused by the darkness in his eyes.
“We are at war, my dear,” Henrik hissed. “I know you wanted this to be resolved peacefully, but the War Council was only ever destined to end one way…with the Realm of Virtues becoming a bloody battlefield. Florian and Amyra sided with our enemies. They intended to destroy the realm with their prejudice, greed, and lust for power.” He glanced out the window, where sunlight illuminated the clouds of rolling smoke consuming the compound. “I couldn’t simply sit idly by and let that happen to my people. To our people.” He met her stare, his regal eyes glittering with conviction. “I had to do my part to protect the realm, given that I knew I wouldn’t be around long enough to fight at your side.”
Worry flooded through her. “Dear Henrik, what do you mean?”
In answer, Henrik lifted his long beard, revealing a large, ghastly lump protruding from his neck. “My physician said this journey north would likely be my last.”
Jax’s hand flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp of shock. “Can nothing be done?”
Henrik shook his head. “And even if it could…I have lived a long, good life. Yet, without my wife and children by my side, it doesn’t seem as magical as it once was. I am ready for what lies beyond this lifetime.” He picked up the wineglass and stared thoughtfully at its contents. “But before I depart on that adventure, I had to make sure my home, my people, the entire realm were placed in good hands.”
Jax’s throat tightened as Henrik reached into the folds of his dressing robe.
“This agreement,” the Duke said as he pulled out a rolled piece of parchment, “states that Florian’s holdings pass to me, should he meet his demise.” He placed the document in Jax’s trembling palms. “I found it in his room after a bit of searching. I had to use the tunnels connecting our rooms, since the outer doors were locked.”
Nodding absently, Jax scanned the flowing script, similar to the Code of Succession found on Florian’s body, baring Amyra’s name. “Good gracious, Henrik! This means you are the Duke of Crepsta, Hestes, and Kwatalar.”
Henrik smiled, kindness returning to his gaze. “Not for long, I’m afraid.” He took a sip of the wine, closing his eyes to savor the flavor. “Now, for the final stage of my grand master plan.” He pulled out another document from his robe and handed it to Jax. “Since I find myself in need of a new heir, this is my revised Code.”
Jax unrolled the document, and silently read Henrik’s blocky script.
With the demise of Florian Hestes and Amyra Kwatalar, I have no direct heir to take up my mantle upon my passing. Given the state of the realm, I must ensure my legacy and my nation are left in good hands. This agreement is binding, and effective immediately upon my death. I invoke the Code of Succession and declare Jacqueline Arienta Xavier the heir to my kingdom, the Duchies of Crepsta, Hestes, and Kwatalar and all their holdings.
The pounding of her thundering heart was all Jax could hear as she reread the inky words on the crisp page. I invoke the Code of Succession and declare Jacqueline Arienta Xavier the heir to my kingdom, the Duchies of Crepsta, Hestes, and Kwatalar and all their holdings. Her whole body began to tremble at the enormity of this gift. Henrik Crepsta had spent his last remaining weeks on this earth securing these lands for her, putting his trust in her to lead the realm into a better future.
She let the tears fall, for she could think of no better way to show just how much the man’s sacrifice and service meant to her. “Henrik…” She stared at him, speechless.
Leaning forward, Henrik wiped away the emotion glistening on her cheeks. “Now, all I need is a witness.” He looked at Darian, who had retreated to a corner of the room.
Henrik tapped the bottom of the page, next to his own signature. “There’s a quill on my nightstand.” He coughed, the sound strangled and wheezing.
With haste, Darian scratched his signature onto the parchment. “There. It is done.” He handed the agreement back to Henrik.
The Duke of Crepsta loosed a long sigh of relief. “It is done.” He clutched the document to his chest and leaned back in the chair, his breathing growing more and more shallow.
“Henrik?” Jax jumped up and placed a hand on the old man’s shoulder, shaking him gently. “Henrik?” Her tone grew more panicked.
Perry came to his wife’s side, pulling her hand away. “Jax,” he said, pointing to a nearby shelf, “isn’t that…”
Jax spied an ornate bottle perched on a small wooden rack. It bore the famous Hestian label, etched with gold. It was the very same Hestian wine she’d been expecting to be delivered to Saphirian military garrisons as a special treat, before finding out the Coalition of Right had poisoned the shipment. Her attention flew back to Henrik. “How did you get hold of this?”
Henrik’s chest barely rose and fell, his words a whisper. “It’s always been my favorite of the southern wines.” A strained chuckle fluttered across his lips. “I told you going into this, Jacqueline, that I planned to take Amyra and Florian’s lives after they sided with Savant. With their blood on my hands, I wanted an easy escape for myself. What better way than to enjoy a glass of my favorite ambrosia?” His expression tightened. “When I learned of their plan to send poisoned wine under the guise of a Hestian shipment, to prove my loyalty to the Coalition of Right, I suggested Qylvard and Florian store their deadly beverage in Crepstian warehouses for safekeeping and allow my own soldiers to distribute it, as you still believed Crepsta to be an ally. Yet, the moment the Hestian delegation departed from my soil after making the delivery, I instructed my guardsmen to pour all the kegs and bottles out.” He took a labored breath. “Save for one.”