“Guild members with brands are high-ranking leaders.”
Jax’s face contorted with disgust. “I can’t believe we aren’t going to run him through the moment we get the information we need.”
“As much as I would personally like to do that, it would not be wise for us to be seen going back on our word,” George cautioned. “There’s no doubt in my mind that our new friend has sent word to the Shadow Brethren that we are asking questions. If we renege on our promise of immunity and the guild was to retaliate, it could spell trouble for the people of Saphire.”
The last thing Jax wanted was to cause her people harm. “I’m just concerned that the Brethren will think we welcome criminals into our lands with open arms.”
“I think your record of apprehending killers and bringing them to justice suggests otherwise, Your Grace.”
She blushed at his praise and began to marvel the beautiful woodlands surrounding them. The spring weather had been kind to the area, allowing it to flourish, bright blooms peppering the trees they rode passed.
ǂ
Nearly two hours later, they entered a grassy clearing, the morning sun illuminating the glossy glade. George raised his hand to halt their steps, and she suspected it was also a signal for his soldiers to get into position. She still had not spied them amongst the trees, and she hoped their unpleasant guest had not either.
She slid off Mortimer’s back, dropping his reins to the ground. “Nice place for a picnic,” she offered, trying to ease the tension fortifying around them.
George’s glare silenced her. “I didn’t argue when you demanded to come, but you must follow my orders for once, Duchess. Remember, let me do the talking.”
Her mouth opened, then closed with a snap. He was right. She had willingly put herself in an extremely dangerous position, George even more so. Without her present, he would just have the Shadow Brethren to contend with. Now, he had to add her safety to his list of concerns. She voiced an obedient whisper. “Yes, Captain.”
Through the thicket at the opposite end of the clearing, they tensed at the shattering of branches.
“Someone’s coming,” George declared, stepping between Jax and the direction of the noise.
“Could have figured that out myself, thanks,” Jax mumbled, only to be reprimanded by his dark gaze. She inverted her lips. Shutting my mouth for good now.
With a dramatic flourish that, despite the circumstances, almost made her laugh out loud, the bushes before them parted and a broad man stepped into the glade, his arms outstretched.
His rather gaudy azure tunic adorned with gold accents seemed over-the-top, especially for a woodland stroll. He removed his feathery hat and dropped to a low bow, the sheath of his silver sword marring the ground as it dragged over the earth. Resuming his cavalier stance, he stroked his pointy black beard and gave Jax an inquisitive look. “I did not expect to be received by the Duchess herself.”
George took a step forward, his hand resting on his sword. “Who are you? Please state your name.”
Their informant raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious, Captain?”
“Your name, sir,” George said with a growl. “Your alias does you no good on immunity papers.”
Clearing his throat, the man nodded his head. “I am called Signor Daephanté within the guild. That is the name I wish to be used on my papers.”
“How do we know you are with the Brethren?” George asked.
Rolling up his right sleeve, Daephanté held out his tanned forearm. Jax cringed at the unsightly brand scarred into his skin.
“I joined the guild as a young boy after my parents were killed in a raid,” he explained, as casually as if reporting sunny skies outside. “Well, it was more coercion than volunteering, but since I had no family left, the Brethren became my home.”
Jax knew she wasn’t supposed to speak, but she couldn’t help herself. “You willingly lived beside the people who murdered your parents?”
“We don’t all have the luxury of a large treasury to keep a roof over our heads, Duquessa.” Daephanté’s eyes raked over her, a crude smile growing large across his face.
Jax noticed George’s jaw twitch with anger, and she knew it was directed at her for speaking out of turn.
“When did you receive the brand?” he asked, coolly ignoring her interference.
Daephanté mimed counting his fingers. “Let me think, let me think. I ascended to the inner circle not five summers ago.”
George shifted his warrior stance. “And why are you here in Saphire? The guild’s outposts have all been run out.”
“Why, Saphire is beautiful this time of year. It’s been a while since I’ve had the opportunity to take a trip.”
The nonchalant way Daephanté answered the question made Jax tremble. This was an extremely dangerous man; he displayed not an ounce of fear in the presence of the Captain of the Ducal Guard.
“The timing seems curious,” George replied.
Daephanté raised an eyebrow with regal poise. “Does it? Why’s that?”
George looked like he was running out of patience. “It is common knowledge the Duchess is to be married in two days’ time.”
“Despite the fact my invitation seems to have gotten lost along the way, my sincerest congratulations, Duquessa,” Daephanté said, accenting his words with a slight bow. “I wish you and your betrothed all the happiness in the world.”
His words made her feel cold. She prayed to the Virtues that her marriage had not been tainted by his blessing.
“But alas,” he continued, “it is merely a coincidence I am here. The Brethren does not dare operate within the borders of Saphire. We learned our lesson long ago, Captain.” Daephanté stared off into the distance, seemingly lost in thought, before snapping his attention back to George. “Enough of these mundane questions. Let’s get to the real reason you have summoned me here. I’d like to get back to reading my book by the lake.”
George shot a quick look at Jax before proceeding. “Does the guild have any plans to sabotage the Duchess’s wedding?”
Daephanté looked genuinely surprised by the question. “As I said, the Brethren does not dare operate within the borders of Saphire.”
“A yes or no will do,” George seethed.
The assassin’s bronze eyes narrowed. “No, we do not.”
George held a hand out to Jax. Digging into the pocket of her riding gown, she pulled out the threat left near the overturned carriage. “Have you ever seen this symbol before?” he asked, presenting the parchment to Daephanté.
His sun-kissed face visibly paled. “Where in the name of the Virtues did you find this?” he hissed.
“What does it mean?” Once more forgetting George’s orders, Jax rushed forward, her eyes intent on the criminal. “Do you know who left this note?” Her heart pulsed in her anticipation.
Daephanté wrung his hands, his eyes darting around the clearing, as if searching for phantoms. “I-I do not know, Duquessa.”
“Your reaction says otherwise,” she said in a voice hard as stone. “What does this mark mean?”
He seemed to shrink before her as he stuttered a reply. “Th-there are rumors within the guild...”
“What rumors?” George demanded.
Daephanté looked from Jax to George, then settled his gaze on the Duchess. “Rumors of a dark threat growing in the realm. I-I—” he stammered, “I did not think they had traveled this far north.”
“What kind of threat?” Jax asked, trying to keep calm and contain the fear roiling in her veins.
“A rebel faction, Duquessa. Last I heard, they were gathering supporters in Crepsta.”
Jax and George exchanged wary looks. “Tell us what you know, sir,” George said in a low growl, “or we shall force it from you.”
Daephanté held up his hands in protest. “Please, I do not know much. The Brethren stays away from political matters.”
“Except when you’re hired to assassinate a leader,” George count
ered.
Daephanté’s eyes widened at the accusation. “We have no interest in that arena anymore. We have scaled back our services, if you will. Eluding angry Ducal Guards is not worth the amount of gold anymore. We stick to easier contracts these days.”
“So, this rebel faction is planning to assassinate a leader?” Jax asked, seizing the information he had let carelessly slip.
“Again, Your Grace, I do not know.” Daephanté’s face glistened with perspiration. “All that we have gathered is that this small group is on a personal vendetta. We know better than to get in their way.”
Jax edged forward even more. “They’re small in numbers?”
“Many believe their cause to be futile, and therefore don’t want to risk being associated with such foolishness.”
“I’ve heard enough,” George said, abruptly grabbing Jax by the arm as he pulled her back to her horse. “We’re getting you back to the palace now.”
“What? Why?” Jax asked, struggling against his firm grip. She was no match for his strength.
“Did you not just hear the same information I did?” he said roughly. “A rogue faction has been gathering support to assassinate a leader. That same faction has kidnapped your lady-in-waiting.”
Jax felt as if the ground had been dropped out from beneath her as the pieces clicked into place. “You believe I am their target?” Even as she spoke the words, she knew the answer.
“Signor Daephanté, your request for immunity has been granted, but I suggest you continue your holiday elsewhere. Tandora’s coast is lovely this time of year,” George called over his shoulder as he lifted himself onto his own mount.
Jax kicked Mortimer into action, closely trailing George as he rode out of the clearing. As soon as they burst from the thicket encircling the grove, a wall of Saphirian soldiers ascended on them, forming a protective barrier around her horse as they galloped away.
“Why kidnap Uma?” she puzzled aloud as they galloped back to the palace in tense silence. “Why not just kill her?” She thought back to the message on the note. You have something of ours, so we took something of yours. What did she have that this nameless band of rogues wanted? How could they hope to harm her when she was constantly surrounded by guards? She replayed Daephanté’s words over and over in her head. He had been surprised that the faction was this far north, as he’d last heard they were gathering forces in Crepsta. Was the Duke aware of this rebellion growing within his own borders? Was he a part of it? Did he want to finish what his nephew had started?
She hardly noticed the changing scenery as they neared the palace and before long, she and George were dismounting behind the stables.
“You’ll receive all your guests in the throne room today, Duchess…after they have been thoroughly searched by my men before entering the grounds.” George’s expression left no room for disagreement. Taking her by the arm, he led her through the maze of garden hedges.
She nearly stumbled trying to keep in step with his rushed pace. “George, please, slow down.”
He didn’t appear to hear her. “We should consider sending everyone home and postponing the wedding.”
Her heart sank at the notion. Her marriage to Perry was the only thing keeping her from losing her mind from worrying about Uma. “We cannot send our guests away from the castle, George. We could be sending them right into a trap.”
He shoved open a side door, pulling her into the confines of palace. “I suppose you could be right.” He hesitated a few seconds before adding, “I need to say this, so you can prepare yourself, Jax. We may not be able to rescue Uma if it risks your safety.”
She felt her throat tighten, but she chose not to argue. Now was not the time.
If her silent acquiescence surprised him, he didn’t show it. Instead, he pulled open the doors to the throne room and ushered her inside. “Stay here for now. I must meet with my security council about next steps.”
She quickly decided against demanding to go with him. As much as she wanted to be a part of the strategic talks, it was not her forte. And besides, she thought as George closed the doors behind him, if the Ducal Guard is unable to save Uma, I need to come up with a plan to do it myself.
Chapter Twelve
After a few minutes of pacing the length of the throne room, Jax felt her stomach grumble. Their journey to the Saltrine and back had taken a good chunk of time, but since they’d left so early, she realized she could catch the end of breakfast in the banquet hall. It would also give her the chance to appease her guests, as she did not want them to catch wind of anything being wrong with her prolonged absence.
“I’d like to go to the dining room, please,” Jax called out to her guardsmen, who stood across the enormous room.
“Your Grace, Captain Solomon’s orders were for you to remain secure in this room,” one of the armor-clad men responded.
“I cannot very well spend my entire day in here, sirs. The last time I checked, I outranked Captain Solomon, so the door, if you please.” Her face was set hard as stone.
The guardsmen exchanged nervous looks before one moved to unlock the door. “We will escort you there, Your Grace.”
Jax’s hunger pangs triggered her temper. “Then let’s get a move on.”
She realized how ridiculous she looked, arriving at the banquet room with fifteen soldiers in her wake, but she breezed past all the questioning stares and made for her seat at the head of the table, despite all the surrounding chairs being empty. She had barely touched the cushion when a cherry tart was deposited on her plate by one of the dining room attendants.
“Good morning, everyone,” she said with as much cheer as she could muster, hoping that she came off sounding relaxed and carefree. She looked down the length of the table, as everyone else had congregated near the opposite end. She was happy to see Charles, Darian, Annette, Giovanna, and Carriena waving back at her.
“We weren’t expecting to see you so soon,” Carriena commented, a smirk on her pretty face. “From Perry’s description, it sounded like an entire bathhouse had been set up in your chambers.”
Jax grinned through a mouthful of pastry. Just being here amongst friends made her feel at ease. “I guess I’m just not that good at putting my feet up. What have I missed?”
Charles’s hand flew to his mouth to choke back a snort, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Jax. “Something entertaining, I take it?” she asked.
Carriena leaned an elbow on the table and sighed. “Oh, just a spat between the Pettraud brothers.”
“Really?” Jax asked, intrigued. “What about?”
Giovanna’s cheeks flushed, her eyes darting to Darian. “Lord Philippe was running his mouth about Cetachi again.”
A grim Darian pointed to his brown eyes. “He called it a nation raised in dirt.”
Before Jax could respond to the disgusting statement, Charles spoke. “Bet it will be the last time he says that, Duke. I’m surprised he woke up after that punch he took to the face.”
“He was punched?” Jax dropped her fork. “In here?” A fistfight, in her dining hall?
Carriena laughed. “By Perry, of all people.”
She wondered if she’d heard wrong. “Perry? Perry punched his oldest brother, the future Duke Pettraud, in my dining hall?”
Both Darian and Annette nodded, their grins replaced with more appropriate somber expressions.
“To make it even more unbelievable, Duchess, their father led Philippe away from the room by his ear,” Giovanna offered. “It was quite a sight, seeing a grown man cower like that.”
The cherry filling in her stomach turned to lead. “Where is Perry?” she asked, placing her napkin down on the table with care.
“I believe his friends took him somewhere to cool off,” Darian replied.
“After his father gave him a pat on the back,” Annette mentioned with a meaningful look at Jax. She’d witnessed firsthand the strained relationship between Perry and the Duke at the peace summit last winter, so the Duke’s
action meant something.
Jax motioned to the guardsman closest to her. “Please send for Lord Pettraud,” she ordered in a clipped tone.
Disappearing with a bow, the guard exited to complete his task.
“Anything else I should know?” Jax looked around the table.
Before her friends could reply, they were interrupted by Jaquobie rushing into the hall.
“Your Grace,” he said with a bow, “I just received word that the delegation from Tandora has been held up due to a thrown horseshoe and will not be arriving until tomorrow.”
Jax had to stop herself from looking relieved. One less thing to worry about for today, at least. “Thank you, Jaquobie. That just leaves the arrival of Carriena’s father for today, yes?”
Her High Courtier tipped his chin. “Correct. The Duke plans to arrive before tonight’s feast.”
“So much eating,” Carriena said with a sigh, rubbing her trim waist. “I’ll need to adjust the size of my dresses by the time this wedding wraps up.”
Lysette appeared at Jaquobie’s side, looking lovely in a cerulean gown, and gave Jax a graceful curtsy before joining everyone at the table. “I went up a size within my first month of living here.”
“And you look all the more stunning,” Jaquobie said, kissing his wife tenderly on the cheek, a sight that still shocked Jax. “I shall return shortly. I’ve been summoned by Captain Solomon.” Before leaving he cast an anxious glance at Jax.
No doubt George would fill Jaquobie in on all they had learned from Daephanté.
“Is everything all right, Duchess?” Giovanna’s melodic voice cut through her thoughts. “You don’t look as relaxed as I’d imagined you’d be after your morning.”
Jax’s grip on the arm of her chair tightened as she responded. “I suppose that even a clay bath cannot thwart the stress of the wedding.”
“What’s there to worry about?” Carriena said, popping a piece of muffin in her mouth. “Uma’s handling everything, right? I don’t think I’ve even seen the poor girl, she must be so busy.”
Jax looked at her nearly empty plate, hating that she had to lie to her dearest friends. “Uma is working quite hard.” She felt her friend’s gaze bearing down on her. Carriena knew her better than just about anyone and would know doubt realize she was hiding something. “What have you all got planned for today?” Jax asked, changing the subject.
Throne of Threats (Ducal Detective Mysteries Book 5) Page 11
