Jax brought her hands to her face, shaking away her disbelief. “Then our armies were never under any real threat of being poisoned.” Henrik had thwarted Qylvard’s dastardly plan long before she even had the chance.
Henrik’s chin lowered to his chest. “As I said before, I never truly left your side, my dear. I made a promise to your father that Crepsta would always be there to aid Saphire in her times of need.” His fingers twitched, and Jax reached for his hand. “I am sorry you spent most of my final hours hating me, thinking I betrayed you. But I have always believed in you, Jacqueline. I like to think that if my little girl had lived, you and she would have grown to be good friends. She saw the best in everyone, too…the potential they had for greatness. Virtues, how I’ve missed her these long years.” A tear escaped Henrik’s regal eyes, their color fading.
“Dear Henrik, forgive me for ever questioning your loyalty.” Jax kissed the back of his papery hand. “Your bravery will not be forgotten. The people of Crepsta will know what you have sacrificed to save them from war and ruin. The realm will know what you have done to bring peace and light to this world once again.”
A smile struggled to stretch across Henrik’s lips. “Your father would be so proud of the woman you have become. May the Virtues watch over you, Duchess.”
Fresh tears sprung to her eyes as Henrik’s hand went limp in her grasp.
Chapter Sixteen
George surveyed the faces of those gathered in the grand hall, his anxiety growing with every passing second he didn’t see Jax. Where are you, my queen? His fist tightened at his side as he pictured the banners of Savant, Tandora, and Beautraud fluttering in the wind. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if anything happened to her. He would not let them touch her.
Upon their arrival back at Fort Vyndheim, George learned Prelate Brath had thrown all War Council protocol to the wind and allowed the other ducal escorts inside the main fortress to collect their charges and prepare to evacuate the fort.
As soon as they were clear of the fiery inferno outside, George, Leopold, and Ivan had sought out the prelate in the tower’s massive entrance hall and briefed him about the formidable army they’d found camped just outside their borders, preparing to mount an assault on Fort Vyndheim.
“We need to hold Savant, Beautraud, and Tandora hostage.” George advised a troubled Brath. “Using their lives, we may be able to bargain our way out this battle.”
In response, Brath barked for a nearby acolyte to lead a squad of men to apprehend the three traitorous leaders and their escorts before any more time passed.
“What about the others who have sided with this Coalition of Right?” Ivan asked, as Brath had hastily filled them in on Savant’s rival alliance.
George pressed his lips together. “I didn’t see any other banners among the assembled soldiers, but perhaps they are stationed at the southeastern encampment I heard mentioned.”
Brath tucked a strand of his soot-streaked white hair behind his ear. “I’m afraid we wouldn’t be able to hold Hestes and Kwatalar hostage, even if their armies are a part of the ambush.”
“Why?” George, Leopold, and Ivan all asked in unison.
Brath sighed, then quickly explained the events that had unfolded inside the tower while the three warriors had combatted the fires and searched for shelter outside the boundaries of the fort.
“Dead?” The wind left George’s lungs. To think, he’d been left totally unaware while a killer stalked the halls. Jax…how could I have left you to the wolves so willingly? How could Brath have kept such a threat from him?
“Yes. Due to the greater danger the fire imposed, I assigned Acolyte Axesinger to monitor the tower while the rest of us tried to wrangle the blaze. It seems she took it upon herself to investigate Duke Hestes’s death. She reported Duchess Xavier and Duke Pettraud also offered their assistance in the matter.”
Ivan snorted. “Wow, as if we couldn’t see that coming.”
His light joke did nothing to loosen the ball of fear in George’s chest. “And what have they uncovered? Have they made any headway?”
Brath nodded. “They are almost certain Duke Hestes dealt the death blow to Duchess Kwatalar, but they have not figured out who in turn silenced Duke Hestes.” The man’s beefy hands balled at his side. “And it’s unlikely the Duke and Duchess will make any more progress. I had to pull Ziri from the investigation to begin evacuation procedures.”
George felt the blood drain from his face. Despite the intelligence he’d seen glittering in her eyes when they’d first met, George highly doubted the success of the inquiry so far rested solely on Ziri’s shoulders. But the fact that she was no longer at Jax’s side troubled him all the more. “So, Duchess Xavier isn’t under the protection of a Knight of Grace right now?”
Brath’s eyebrows drew together. “Ziri ordered the Duchess to remain hidden away until the time came to leave.”
George rolled his eyes and cursed. “A simple order isn’t enough to keep Duchess Xavier in her place, especially when there is a killer about. Where is she? Take me to her.”
Clearly realizing it was futile to argue, Brath nodded his begrudging consent.
“I’ll spread word amongst the Knights of Grace about the Coalition’s treachery,” Leopold volunteered. “Then I’ll try to scrounge up some armor for us.” He motioned to the tattered clothes he, George, and Ivan all wore.
Much to his chagrin, George hadn’t given his own safety a second thought, his mind consumed with worry about Jax. Pull yourself together. He needed to be mentally and physically prepared for what lay ahead if he was going to get her out of here unscathed. “Good thinking, Captain. We don’t want to—”
A cacophony of shouts interrupted their meeting as Olin Huguet, the Knight originally assigned to Perry, burst out of a nearby hallway. “Prelate! Prelate, the sovereigns and their escorts have escaped.”
“Escaped?” Brath growled. “Damn it. How?”
“Had to be through their windows.” Olin wheezed. “We examined each room for any sign as to where they’ve fled, but Tandora, Savant, and Beautraud have simply vanished along with their Ducal Guard.”
“Search the grounds,” Brath ordered. “Alert the team at the wall. The fire is still raging, so the traitors may have run into trouble.”
George’s patience had reached its end. He placed a firm hand on Brath’s forearm. “If they have departed the War Council, they are no longer your concern, Prelate. We need to rally those who are remaining. Now, where was Duchess Xavier last seen?”
Shrugging off George’s grip, Brath whistled, and a heartbeat later, Ziri Axesinger materialized from the shadows. George had to restrain himself from revealing how her sudden appearance caught him off guard. Not very many people could accomplish such a feat. She moves like a phantom.
“Are the rumors true?” she inquired, shooting a probing glance at George. “An enemy marches on our doorstep?” Not a hint of fear laced her calm, velvety voice. In fact, there was an eager gleam in her gaze, as if she savored the possibility of riding into battle.
George studied her a moment, very much aware of the scent of orange blossoms wafting off her olive skin. The short sleeves of her fitted tunic revealed muscled arms capable of wielding any blade. Paired with her long legs and lethal grace, there was no doubt in his mind that her fighting skills rivaled that of her beauty. She emulated the soul of a fighter, one who craved the surging swing of steel. While he considered himself a warrior at heart, George had always leaned toward the role of protector. If they were forced to meet the Coalition’s army out on the battlefield, he prayed whatever oath the Knights of Grace had made to Darian Fangard held true, for he wanted Ziri’s deadly determination in Jax’s corner.
Brath dismissed her question with an irritated grunt. “Ziri, take these two men to their charges,” he ordered, pointing to George and Ivan. “And remember, we’re to depart the fortress once the entryway is completely secured. We don’t have the resources to make a s
tand against this enemy.”
Ziri stuck her lower lip out in a pout.
George thought back to the gaping, fiery hole that had greeted them upon their return to Fort Vyndheim. The Knights had still not finished securing the fallen gate and the surrounding ramparts, and George and his comrades had passed through at great risk. “When will it be ready?”
“Soon,” came Brath’s curt response, before the hulking man disappeared through the yawning threshold of the grand hall.
“Come,” Ziri purred. “I left Duchess Xavier and Duke Pettraud in Duchess Kwatalar’s chamber. I was just on my way to alert them about the impending evacuation. I assume the prelate has informed you of our nighttime activities?”
“Yes,” George replied. “I don’t know whether to be pleased or angry about it.” Leave it to Jax to insert herself between another dead body and a coldblooded killer.
A lilting chuckle floated over Ziri’s shoulder as she walked away. “Surely, Captain Solomon, you of all people know the futility in convincing Duchess Xavier to keep her intrigue at bay. Let’s hope she and that handsome husband of hers have made progress and discovered who is behind these killings.”
George followed the acolyte’s lithe, powerful frame as she led him and Ivan down the long eastern hall. Taking in as much detail about their surroundings as he could, George marveled at the craftsmanship that had kept these moonstone walls standing for centuries. He hoped that once the fire burned out, the remainder of Fort Vyndheim could be salvaged, its history recovered and restored. Anger still ripped through his veins, knowing the decimating fire had been purposefully set by the Savantian captain to lure them all out into the open. I almost hope our paths cross, he growled inwardly to himself as the primal need for revenge pulsed within him.
Stopping ahead, Ziri opened one of the many doors lining the sprawling wing, her spine visibly straightening as she glanced inside the room.
Ivan and George stood on either side of her, surveying the chamber, empty save for Duchess Kwatalar’s body under a white sheet.
“Who would have guessed it?” Ivan said, chuckling. “They aren’t here.”
George massaged the base of his neck, his muscles protesting with anxiety. “We need to find Jax and Perry immediately. Who knows what they’ve managed to get themselves into?”
Ziri wasted no time in providing a solution. It almost seemed as if she had expected Jax to disobey her directive to stay with the deceased Kwatalarian ruler. “We should check the grand hall, first. The Duquessa is smart. She wouldn’t risk her own life when she knows an evacuation is imminent.”
It’s obvious you don’t know Jax as well as you think, Acolyte. Nothing stands between her and getting to the bottom of a mystery. A faint smile tugged at George’s lips as he pictured those fierce amethyst eyes, fervent with determination.
The trio made haste toward the grand hall, and George didn’t waste a moment searching for Jax in the sea of faces that greeted them. Where are you?
The Knights not assigned to securing the front gate had all gathered inside the cavernous chamber, waiting for further evacuation instructions. The number of people in the room suggested to George that Brath had given up combatting the blaze entirely.
And it wasn’t just people. The horses had been brought inside to give their lungs relief from the smoky smog swirling around the grounds of Fort Vyndheim. Relief fluttered in George’s chest at seeing his faithful mare standing next to Mortimer, looking much stronger than Ivan had reported when he’d seen her earlier.
“Virtues, why is there blood on the floor?” a woman’s voice shrieked, cutting through the discord of nervous chatter.
Sharing wide-eyed glances, George and Ivan darted into the fray, working their way toward the back of the room where the cry had come from.
They found an agitated woman pacing back and forth with a severe frown. Her orchid gaze turned to them as they approached, and since George had just seen the covered body of Duchess Kwatalar, he assumed this was the Duchess of Zaltor.
She stiffened as they neared. “You are with the Ducal Guard.”
He noted her nervousness. Clearly, she considered herself to be in the presence of the enemy. “You mentioned finding blood, Duchess Zaltor?”
She dropped her hands to her side and nodded. “Yes. And none of these Knights thought it worthy to investigate.” She pointed to the Knights of Grace, who all stood a good distance from her, giving her space. George presumed that Prelate Brath had instructed his guardsmen to purposefully keep watch from a distance, given Zaltor’s allegiance to the Coalition of Right. “Is this where poor Florian met his demise?”
Instead of answering the Duchess, George knelt to examine the blood on the floor. It had long since dried.
“Hmm…” Ivan mused at his shoulder. “Not enough blood to warrant a stomach or leg wound.”
George nodded as he rose, wishing Brath had seen fit to give them the details as to how the Hestian met his end. “I’m thinking chest or throat.”
Beside them, Ziri appeared, having gotten sidetracked by fellow acolytes beseeching her for updates and answers. “This is where Duke Hestes was discovered,” she murmured, keeping her voice low and out of reach of Duchess Zaltor’s ears. “His throat was cut. We moved him downstairs into the infirmary.”
“Perhaps Jax and Perry are there?” Ivan suggested.
George sighed. It was as good a place as any to start. The first floor of this fortress was littered with rooms and side chambers. It would take them ages to figure out where and what Jax was up to. They didn’t have that kind of time. They needed to evacuate the fort before the Coalition of Right descended upon them. With Savant, Tandora, and Beautraud having made their escape, enemy forces had to be closing in.
You’re not going to be happy you have to abandon this mystery, Jax, but at this point, I really don’t care.
Ziri grabbed his arm as he started to move away. “We should split up. If there is an army making its way here, we may not have the luxury of waiting for the gate to be secured. Prelate Brath will want to evacuate sooner rather than later.”
Taking a deep breath, George worked to compartmentalize his anxieties so he could focus on the task at hand. “We meet back here in ten minutes.”
“I’ll take the infirmary and the southern wing, since I’m most familiar with the layout,” Ziri said. “Captain Pettraud, you take the east wing. Captain Solomon, you take the west wing, and then you two can split the northern portion of the fortress.”
Having been given their respective instructions, they hurried away from the chaos of the grand hall and split up. Ziri descended a stairwell off the main hall, while Ivan darted down the passageway to the east wing. George took off down another long hall, and soon, his footsteps were all he heard.
Where are you, Jax? What trouble have you gotten into this time? His questions became a mantra, chanting inside his head. He forced himself to move quickly, checking each room he came upon, knowing time was of the essence. With the Coalition’s forces right at their doorstep, he had to get Jax out of here.
Finding the west wing of the tower empty, George cursed, but kept moving. As he neared the north wing, murmuring voices drifted down the hallway from up ahead, and he spurred himself forward. He’d found evidence of lived-in rooms as he made his way along the passageway, but all that remained were discarded items and ruffled sheets. Not a sign of the other sovereigns anywhere. He’d only seen Duchess Zaltor in the grand hall. With Tandora, Beautraud, and Savant on the run, and Kwatalar and Hestes dead, where were Dukes Mensina, Cetachi, Crepsta, and Lysandeir, to say nothing of Perry and Jax?
The voices ahead grew louder, although he still couldn’t tell which door they came from or what they were saying. Yet, the distinct melodic ring of one particular voice made his heart nearly burst. Jax.
Before he could take another step, she stepped out into the corridor, wiping her cheeks with one hand as she stared at a piece of paper in the other before pocketing it.
>
“Jax.” His throat strangled the greeting, and it barely came across as a whisper.
Startled, she looked up, her amethyst gaze locking with his.
They stood there a moment simply staring at each other, as all of George’s panic and worry melted away. His Duchess brimmed with confidence, exuding an almost ethereal power. Something had changed since she’d entered the War Council. Not only did he see the kind, compassionate soul he’d known for more than twenty years, but he saw a warrior, a queen, ready to meet whatever challenge lay ahead. My queen.
“George!” She rushed forward, throwing her arms around him. “Thank the Virtues you’re all right.” She held him tightly for a long moment, and George savored the warmth of her slender body against his.
Pulling back, whatever tears she’d shed earlier were gone, joyful hope dancing in her gaze. “You will not believe what has happened.”
From out of the room she’d just exited, Darian and Perry appeared, each looking a bit dazed. After giving them each a hearty greeting, George sobered. “While I’m eager to hear what trouble you’ve gotten yourself into this time, it will have to wait.”
Jax stiffened, her expression growing concerned. “We already know about the evacuation. We were just getting ready to gather our things and head to the grand hall.”
George shook his head, as the next obstacle they had to face filled him with dread. But at least they would face it together. “I’m afraid the fire is the least of our worries.”
Chapter Seventeen
Jax stepped out of Henrik’s room, disbelief, sorrow, and wonder threatening to overwhelm her. Yet, her name on his lips cleared the torrential hurricane of emotions, a calming force amidst the chaos. Her breath drew short as her gaze settled on George Solomon, those chocolate eyes seeing through to her very soul. She was in his arms before she knew what she was doing, cherishing the warmth and tenderness radiating from his tight embrace. Virtues, how she’d missed him.
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