On reaching the top of the stairs and crossing the balcony he passed through his bedchamber to his day room. The main door was open and he stepped out into the vestibule to find Faith talking to Sergeant Belich. The burly sergeant looked much improved since their last meeting in the yard behind Lord Kane’s burning residence.
“It’s the signal that an urgent meeting of the General Council of nobles has been called,” Faith said, as he approached.
“What would that imply?” James asked, looking to the good sergeant.
“Other than there is a crisis afoot, I couldn’t say. The last time such a meeting was called, was after the queen was murdered and the Archbishop was arrested and accused of treason.”
James knew well enough of that event. The realm had teetered on the edge of civil war for several weeks, before the King had relented under pressure from his nobles, and let the Archbishop go.
Faith thanked the sergeant, took James’ elbow and steered him down the passageway at a quick pace. He ignored his aching head, and did his best not to slow her down.
“What do you think?” Faith’s deep brown eyes probed him for an answer.
“I don’t know. Perhaps his Majesty has decided to bring the Druid plot out into the open?”
Faith studied him for a moment, clearly not thrilled by the prospect if that was so, but she said nothing as they continued on down the passage. It wasn’t long till they found themselves in amongst a growing migration of people heading towards the palace court. From lesser nobles, palace officials, merchants, all the way down the strata to bedpan boys, there was a cross-section of the palace populous here. James listened to the conversations going on around them. No one seemed to know what was going on exactly, but speculation that an urgent meeting of the General Council was plain enough. An elderly grey-hair gentleman was suggesting that it was likely the murder of another noble of note, like poor Lord Cameron and his niece a week past. Which was a crime waiting to happen with all this nonsense about liberty. “When you let women into places of power, it’s only a matter of time before the rot will spread.”
The old lord happened to glance in their direction, and seeing Corenbald’s princess in their midst he quickly shut his mouth.
Two uniformed serving maids were giggling between themselves, whispering something about Lady Patricia being caught in Lord Atherton’s bed at long last, and the lady’s husband challenging Atherton to a duel. Just ahead of them a palace cook was suggesting to a guard that it was likely they had caught the bastards who’d attacked the Lady de Brie’s chambers a few weeks past, and led to the mysterious business with the royal barge heading up to Ra’majum and the attack that had seen it stranded on the river bank and left good men dead. James knew that was certainly not the case for if they had captured Lord Kane there would be no fanfare like this, not with what they were going to do to the poor devil.
James also noticed the glances he was drawing and the whispers. Faith noticed his puzzled look and nudged his arm, drawing his attention. “It’s got out that the King is poised to announce that his daughter is going to marry. They know it’s you, but most folk aren’t yet sure who you are.”
“Right.” Truth be told he was more interested why an emergency meeting of the General Council had been called, and whether or not Dee was involved.
The crowd continued to grow, with servants and lords pouring out of adjoining passages and chambers, until the press of bodies prevented any headway.
Faith muttered something under breath and then promptly drew her sword. “Make way! Out of the way!” She had to shout to be heard above the chatter.
Heads turned and indignant scowls vanished as nobles and servants alike quickly realised who was making the demand and pressed together as tight as they could to let the heir to the Corenbald throne through. As they reached the bottom of the sweeping staircase that led up to the wide pillared vestibule of the royal court several palace guards had seen them coming and moved to help their progress up the stairs.
“Come on, back up. Make way.”
“What’s happened?” James asked one of the guards.
“I’m not sure, Milord. A message arrived for the king during the meeting of the High Council, and a short while later the Archbishop, Lord Dunston and Lord Renwick came storming down the tower stairs demanding that the court bell be rung for an urgent sitting of the General Council. A message was sent to the king, seeking his authority, and as I understand it, and you can hear, his authority was given.”
“Have you seen the Lady de Brie?” James asked. He had a sinking feeling that Dee was mixed up in this somehow.
“No, Milord, nor the king, Lord Protector or Lord Defender or Lord Eden and Michael. I did see Lord Leithfield, though, and can say, I’ve seldom seen the young Duke so angry.”
Leithfield was the King’s youngest brother and Danielle’s favourite uncle and for him to be angry did not bode well.
“What about any of the members of the king’s Inner Council?”
“They filed into the chambers with the rest of the members of the General Council a short time ago.”
The soldier beckoned towards the large doors across the crowded vestibule and that’s when James spotted Bastion and Kimberly standing there. Both Kimberly Straw and Lord Fairfax’s eldest son looked grey with worry as they talked with several brown robed stewards of the palace cathedral.
“Bastion!” James called out as he pushed forward again.
The blond haired undersecretary looked up. Surprise and relief crossed his face. “James.” Bastion pointed to the doors that opened into the tower that led up to the chamber of the High Council. “We’ll talk there.”
The press of bodies made it difficult, but with the help of the palace guards they managed to get across the packed vestibule and through the door and into the small dome-ceiling foyer inside. Sunlight shone down from a narrow windowpane at the top of the first flight of stone stairs.
“What’s going on?” Faith asked.
Kimberly looked like she had been crying, and tears threatened again as she looked to Bastion.
“Word has arrived from the Helidon Estate. I’m afraid it isn’t good. No evidence was found to suggest Lord Helidon was or had been keeping slaves on his lands.
“Oh Gods.” Faith shook her head and moved to comfort her friend. “Dee said this might happen.”
“Last I knew, she was convinced there were slaves there,” James said. He had clearly missed something.
Bastion said, “There was a wild fire on the estate the day after the incident in the tunnel tower. It delayed the commencement of the search by three days. Danielle thought it a likely ploy to buy time to move the slaves and destroy any evidence that they were there. Problem is, it is the wild fire season, and there is no way of knowing the truth of her suspicions, at least till now and even then we have no evidence.”
“Well the slaves went somewhere.”
“But where? They’re not aboard ship. The king ordered half the royal fleet to ply the Renwick coast and stop and search every vessel they came across. Not a single vessel belonging to Lord Helidon was found in the area. Besides, we’re talking about five thousand slaves. It would have taken a small armada to move so many, at least ten ships.”
“Is it possible they weren’t there?’ Faith asked. “You said this information came via the Lady Winter’s hand. Hardly a reliable source.”
James was back wondering the same thing. Had they been fooled?
“I don’t know,” Bastion replied. “But whatever the truth, Dee’s in a right mess now. The Archbishop has tabled a petition demanding that the king expel his daughter from her positions on Arkaelyon’s councils. He is also demanding that she be replaced as the realm’s ambassador to the Grand Assembly of Realms in Amthenium. If what I heard was correct, he also claims he has the votes in the General Council to force the king’s hand if he doesn’t agree, and that includes having Dee publicly whipped for her malicious allegations.”
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��Oh, like Vellum, that’s going to happen,” Faith said, easing Kimberly back and heading for a side door across the small foyer.
“Where you going?” Bastion asked. James was equally curious.
“To make it clear where Arkaelyon’s closest ally stands in this matter.” Faith opened the door and disappeared inside. Somewhere out of sight a guard challenged Corenbald’s princess but she didn’t return. James wasn’t sure how much sway Faith would have with the General Council. They disliked the sole heir to the Corenbald throne about as much as they disliked their own princess. But at least she was doing something. He sat down on the stairs, trying to think despite the fog and pain in his head. If the Archbishop had the numbers as he claimed, then the king would have no choice but to relent to their demands—it was the nature of Arkaelyon’s constitution since Arkaelyon sovereignty was restored after the fall of the Larniusian Druids two hundred years ago. But what if the fire had been a diversion, and there were slaves on the estate somewhere? An idea came to mind. “What if we find the Lady Winters? We both know what she looks like. She’ll know the truth of this.”
“Dee won’t agree. She is as protective of that woman as if she were her own sister,” Bastion said.
“Her word wouldn’t mean anything in there anyway,” Kimberly said. “We might as well pick a whore off the streets of the wharf district and claim she is Lady Winters for all the good it will do us.”
“It’s not her word I want. She is as close to the Archbishop as anyone. I’m sure she knows where the slaves went, assuming she was telling the truth in the first place. Or would you prefer we did nothing? You know what Danielle’s involvement in the realm’s council’s means to the reformist cause.”
Bastion blew out a weary breath and then nodded. “Okay. It won’t be easy though.”
“Easier now that we know what she looks like.”
“I’ll put together a plan and talk to Sergeant Belich and some of the men who can recognise her. I’m sure they’ll gladly help. I’ll also talk to my father. See if we should bring this to the king’s attention or not. But it’s going to take time, James, and I leave for Amthenium in a few hours.”
“Then you talk to your father and I’ll see to the rest. We’ll watch for her comings and goings at the abbey, get a feel for her routine and protection.” James got up to leave but the pain in his head stopped him in his tracks. He clenched his teeth together and cupped his forehead. The tonic Faith had given him was wearing off quicker than he would have liked.
Bastion gave him a good-natured grin and patted his shoulder. “Probably best if I get things started. You don’t want to over do it. Take over once we have Danielle away from Illandia. Until then a little more rest might be smart. I’ll have Sergeant Belich fill you in on the details later today.”
Bastion opened the door and with Kimberly’s help they led James back out into the crowded vestibule. The noise of a thousand conversations echoing off the high vaulted ceiling stabbed through his temples.
They’d managed to push their way across the mosaic floor to the top of the stairs when the doors to the General Council began to open. Every head turned in that direction and the chatter quickly died away. The duty captain of the palace guard appeared and gave orders to push the crowd back. Joseph was next to emerge. Looking pale and gaunt, he had his hand on Eden’s arm for support and three court stewards in company. The Archbishop followed in his wake, looking rather smug. Three of the church’s senior clergy walked with him, while six of his black robed protectorate followed closely behind with Danielle in their custody. James felt his heart leaden. Despite her obvious outrage, he sensed her fear and could hear the rattle of chains.
The procession stopped and Joseph stepped up to the announcement lectern and gestured for quiet. When it was given he said with little enthusiasm, “The Lady de Brie has been found guilty of making a malicious allegation in the General Council, and in accordance to the rules of conduct and the nature of her said allegations, she will be taken forthwith to the grand square, where she will receive ten lashes of the whip as due punishment. A further proclamation will be read at that time making it clear to all and sundry that the King’s daughter has of this day had her rights to sit as an equal on the realm’s General and High Council permanently revoked by popular vote. This decree is made with the King’s reluctant authority.”
James couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. He wasn’t alone. The vestibule had become as quiet as a crypt as people stared at each other. Joseph gave a grim nod and the duty captain barked an order at his men, who moved forward to clear a path for the procession. Disbelief quickly faded as people began to talk among themselves. Some of the nobles in the crowd smiled openly. A few even clapped their approval. Most of the crowd was indignant, however, and even as the procession began to make its way down the pillared vestibule some began to protest loudly.
“What popular vote? We didn’t get to vote!”
Like those around him, James pushed after the procession, but Bastion grabbed his sleeve.
“Nothing you can do.” He had to raise his voice to be heard above the angry rants building around them. “If Dee sees you out of bed, it’ll only cause her more concern.”
“Gods, man, they’re going to whip her! And there is something I can do. I’m her protector. You know the nature of a protector’s warrant.”
“You resigned you position,” Bastion reminded him. “It won’t stand in a matter as serious as this.”
“I still have a protector’s ring. My resignation isn’t final until I’ve surrendered it.”
Bastion clearly wanted to believe that but didn’t look hopeful. “I guess it’s worth a try. Do you think you can endure ten lashes in your condition?”
“If it means keeping the whip from her back, I’ll endure a great deal more than that.”
They had joined the crowd and its general exodus down the length of the court vestibule when Faith pushed up between them. She looked more out of sorts than when she’d left them in the tower foyer. “Dee wants you to handle the Vafusolum proposal in her absence,” she said to Bastion. They all knew that with ten lashes to her back she wouldn’t be going to Amthenium any time soon.
“What happened in there?” James still couldn’t believe the king had relented on this. There’d be blood in the streets when the commoners heard that their lady had been expelled from the realm’s councils and was going to be whipped.
“Dee refused to recant her allegations against the Archbishop, Lord Helidon and Kane. She’s adamant as ever that there are slaves on the Helidon estate, whatever the findings of the search.”
“She thinks the priest’s loyalty has been bought?” James asked. That didn’t seem likely to him; Bishop Marple, or any of the good brothers of the reformist church in Renwick selling their soul for gold, particularly orthodox gold and particularly in the matter of slavery.
“No. Dee doesn’t dispute Bishop Marple findings. What she thinks is that the so-called wildfire was a diversion to buy time to hide the slaves. She said as much in open chambers and you can imagine how that inflamed things.”
“But where? They didn’t leave by ship that’s for sure,” Bastion said. “Where would you hide five thousand slaves? Helidon’s estate is vast, but that is no small number, and the bishop has spent a week searching with hundreds of his brothers.”
“I don’t know. But the King vowed to continue the search, and painted a rather threatening picture to the nobles of what this might mean to the realm.”
“It clearly didn’t work.” James said bitterly.
“His hands are tied. The Archbishop did back down on revoking her title as Arkaelyon’s ambassador to the Grand Assembly in Amthenium,” Faith said. “And he did offer to forgo the whipping if she revealed the source through which she got the shipping diary.”
“How generous of him,” Bastion said. “They keep her as ambassador because she serves their interests in that role. Nothing more.”
James agreed.
“Then we stick with what we agreed. We find the Lady Winters and we find those slaves and restore Dee’s rights.”
They had reached the top of one of the stairways that led down to the palace’s main atrium. The crowd was flowing like a river down the curved staircases and cramming into the wide entry. A bottleneck had formed at the doorway, despite it being able to accommodate six men abreast and several palace guards were urging order and care least someone be trampled.
“Where’s the king?” James asked. In fact from what he could see around him, he could not see any of the members of the General Council. Which was probably wise, given the angry nature of the crowd.
“Those that voted against the petition are bound by law to remain in the council chamber until the sentence is carried out. The rest probably exited the council chamber via Dalton’s Hall,” Bastion explained. Faith confirmed as much.
They reached the bottom of the stairs and moved with the surging mob towards the door. The procession had vanished from view long ago and James was growing anxious they wouldn’t make it to the square in time. But it was impossible to do anything but go with the flow.
At last they squeezed through the bottleneck at the main doorway. Outside in the sunlight, the crowd was spreading out and running down the wide stone stairs, across the palace’s circular arrival yard and off in the direction of the carriageway that led down through the southern garden to the palace’s main gate. Danielle had already been loaded onto the back of a cart and was some distance on, disappearing down the stone chip driveway. A troop of mounted guards was in accompaniment, the sunlight shining off their amour and weapons. Those at the head of the crowd that had packed the vestibule were following behind the cart, many running to keep up or taking a short cut across the gardened grounds. The court bell had started tolling again and this particular rhythm James recognised as the signal to the city that a royal decree was about to be announced in the grand square.
James made it as far as the arrival yard before the heat of the sun, fatigue and the throbbing pain in his head drew him up sharply. He threw out a hand and grabbed the edge of the fountain that stood in the centre of the cobbled yard as his knees buckled. Faith and Bastion caught him as he sagged and dragged him up. They slung his arms over their shoulders and continued on at a half-run.
Maig's Hand Page 27
