by Vicky Savage
“I shan’t.” He nods at Father and Ralston and heads inside to his room.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry to ask this of you,” Father says, “but while Ryder is dressing, will you accompany me to view the bodies of your attackers. Perhaps you will recognize one of them.”
Gawking at a bunch of dead bodies isn’t on my bucket list, but I guess it’s important. “Yes, I’ll go,” I say.
Father retrieves a light shawl from the closet in the foyer and drapes it around my shoulders. Ralston follows us outside to the barn, where the men have just finished laying out the bodies of the black knights’ face-up on the straw. The stench of blood is strong, and I cover my nose with the shawl. Father leads me to the first victim.
“Does he look familiar?” he asks.
I study his face, peaceful in death, and shake my head in response. Father looks to Ralston.
“I’ve never seen him before,” he says.
We move on to the second corpse. Icy fingers clutch my heart when I see the bulging wild eyes, now frozen and lifeless. “That’s the one who tried to kill me,” I say swallowing hard.
“Ever seen him before today?” Father asks.
“No.”
We step across to the third body. “Oh god, that’s the man who’s been following me. Ralston, look.”
Ralston peers over at him. “Yes, that is he.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” Father asks.
“It was two days ago in Warrington Village,” I say, “outside Bartlett’s.”
The fourth man looks barely older than a boy. I don’t recognize him, but I recoil at the sight of his horrific wounds, and wonder what his story is. Such an appalling waste of a young life.
When we approach the fifth fatality, something about him seems vaguely familiar. I squint at his face. “I don’t know,” I say. “This may be one of the thieves who took Fred and Ethel. But it was dark. I’m not sure.”
“Do you recall if he had any identifying marks?” Father asks.
“I injured him on his back and thigh with my sword. He’d still have the wounds.”
Father rolls the man on his side and lifts his shirt. His pale back is smooth and free of scars.
I shake my head. “It’s not him.”
Stopping at the last victim, I recognize him as the man Ryder killed in the forest. Neither Ralston nor I recall ever having seen him before today.
“Let’s go back inside and see if Ryder is available,” Father says. “We need to piece together everything we know. Perhaps we can make some sense of it. Jade, I’m interested in hearing your theories and discussing your concerns. I’d like to invite Captain Hornsby to be in on the conversation, if that is acceptable to you.”
I hesitate. “Father, some of this involves family matters. Maybe we can fill Captain Hornsby in later.”
His eyebrows pop up. “Of course.”
A freshly showered Ryder strides toward us, as we step outside the barn door. He wraps his arms around me and holds me close. “Jaden, I should never have left you alone. Please forgive me. You could have been killed. Let me see your hand.”
“No. It’s fine. Father examined it.” I hide it behind my back. “You did what you believed was best. But I’m sorry you had no armor because of me. Are you hurt?”
“No. I circled back around to find you. You had vanished by then, but your attacker was scouring the bushes, calling your name. It made me wild, Jade. Mad with worry.”
“You killed him?” I ask soberly.
“Yes. He’ll not bother you again.”
“Shall we go inside?” Father says.
Ryder places a protective arm around my shoulder, and we crunch across the gravel walkway to the house. It’s weird to think Ryder killed two men today, trying to protect me. I’m grateful for his bravery, but I wonder how he feels about it. I need to ask him sometime when we’re alone. This is all getting too wild-west for me. I feel squeamish and sort of guilty about all the killing that went on today.
“Dinner is ready,” Mrs. Hornsby announces quietly when we step inside the house.
Dinner? After what I’ve just seen? Forget it.
I can’t touch a bite of food, even though Father’s chef makes the most extraordinary meals in the land. Everyone else seems ravenous after all the excitement. Ryder practically attacks his plate. Must be a guy thing. Father and the others discuss arrangements for transporting the bodies of the Royal Guardsmen back to Warrington. They toss around strategies for identifying the six slain black knights. Pushing my food around with my fork, I tune out the whole conversation, and attempt to regain my equilibrium. Father tells me Captain Hornsby has already beefed-up security around the house and the gates to the Enclave, so I have nothing to worry about tonight. That’s a small comfort, I guess.
Once dinner is over, we adjourn to the drawing room for coffee. Ryder and I sit together in an overstuffed loveseat. Ralston settles into a high-backed wing chair, and Father takes his usual leather chair and ottoman. Once coffee has been poured and the door closed, Father turns to me.
“You have the floor, Jaden. Begin anywhere you like, with the attack today or the reason you wish to engage Henry Balfour.”
I scoot to the edge of the loveseat. Ryder reaches over and reassuringly covers my hand with his. “Everything may be related, Father. I’m afraid Uncle Harold may be behind all of this.”
Father uncrosses his legs and leans forward, brows pinched together. “Prince Harold? Jaden, that is a serious accusation. What causes you to believe such a thing?”
“Actually it’s a series of things that, put together, make me believe he wants to harm me.”
“What things, specifically?” Father asks.
“Well, I felt his resentment the first day I returned to Warrington. He tried to control my behavior, and wanted to know my whereabouts at all times. Then Osrielle confided in me that she doesn’t want to be queen. She says her father’s forcing her to stay at the palace, when she really wants to be back on the farm with her mother.
“Also, I was told by more than one reliable source of rumors circulating about Uncle Harold. According to the rumors, he has a band of thugs working for him, and they’ve committed some terrible crimes. The investigator we hired confirmed that he does have men working on his behalf to collect debts, scout property for him, that type of thing. These men have been described as always wearing black armor, like the men who attacked us today.”
“But what about the rumors of criminal acts?” Father asks.
I shake my head. “So far, there’s only circumstantial evidence to link him to the crimes. But when he and I argued over whether or not the Skorplings should be caged, they mysteriously disappeared the next day. Harold told me outright that they vanished because I failed to take his advice. He also tried to force me to sign some papers awarding his company the contract to build the wall around Unicoi. When I refused and told him I would take it up with the Council, he became angry and made veiled threats against my horse.”
“Jaden, these things are understandably unsettling to you,” Father says. “But rumors, suspicions, and veiled threats are vastly different from someone putting a price on your head.”
“I know, but there are other things too. Duke Ferdinand of Cupola de Vita visited Warrington a while back, and I overheard an argument between him and Uncle Harold. Uncle Harold promised to deliver the Designated Guardian’s consent to build a new dome, in exchange for some kind of compensation. When Ferdinand reminded him that both Mother and I are against the plan, he responded that his daughter was only a heartbeat away from the throne. Afterward, Duke Ferdinand warned me that Harold might not have my best interests at heart.”
“That is quite disturbing,” Father says.
“But maybe the most significant thing has to do with the reason I’m here, and why Uncle Harold may have wanted to stop me from ever reaching the Enclave.” I pause for a deep breath. “I’ve decided to remove Uncle Harold as Lord High Steward as soon as
I ascend to the throne. I’ve also decided to make Lady Lorelei Bartlett my heir apparent, and to remove Osrielle from the line of succession altogether.”
Ryder squeezes my hand. It’s the first he’s heard of this.
Father briskly rubs the back of his hand across his chin. “I see. Those are rather dramatic developments. And Harold is aware of your intentions?”
“I don’t know. Possibly. We’ve tried to keep it as secret as possible. Ralston and I knew. Before I left, I confided in Mother. But I don’t think she would have mentioned it to Harold. And, I met with Lorelei and Jacob a few days ago, to get her consent to the arrangement. We discussed the importance of complete confidentiality. Father, she was one of the first to warn me about Harold. But if he was having me followed—”
“Just a moment, Jade.” Father stands and paces in front of his chair, clearly troubled by the conversation. “Let us be cautious about jumping to conclusions. We do not know if Prince Harold is the one who arranged to have you followed. Let us examine the things we do know. Someone sent an organized, well-outfitted band of assassins to kill you. That person offered a large reward and, therefore, must have a strong motive for wishing you dead. One of the would-be assassins has been secretly following you since … when?”
“The first time I knew I was being followed was a couple of weeks ago,” I say. “He showed up in the palace courtyard after I’d seen him in Warrington Village. Ralston did some checking. The guards said he had a pass signed by Mother’s head stableman, but Evan Barksdale denied issuing such a pass. Nobody else knew anything about him.”
“Very well. So there is no direct connection to Harold there. What we do know is that Prince Harold can afford the price of the reward. He stands to benefit from your death in that his position as Lord High Steward would be secure, and his daughter would ascend to the throne upon the queen’s death. But we’re uncertain as to whether he is aware of your proposed actions.” He holds out his arms. “All we really know is that he has financial means and a possible motive.”
“Who else could it be?” I say. “By process of elimination, it has to be him.”
“Not necessarily, Jade. A queen or even a ‘queen in waiting’ has many enemies, some of whom may be unknown. I can think of one clear possibility—King Philippe. If he believes in an eye for an eye, perhaps he is thinking a daughter for a son. There is his motive, and he unquestionably has the means, both financially and in terms of soldiers to carry out such an attack. Didn’t you mention that one of the slain men was possibly French?”
“Yes. He sounded French,” I say. “But Prince Gilbert has accepted the invitation to my wedding. Mother thinks that’s a sign Philippe’s attitude is thawing. Besides, how could a whole band of Noirs end up in Domerica? I mean, the dome is impenetrable.”
“Yes well, we’d like to believe the dome is impenetrable,” Father says. “But Outlanders seem to appear out of nowhere from time to time. Undoubtedly, tunnels still exist which we don’t know about. The old destroyed tunnels are inspected frequently, but something may have escaped our detection.”
“I know of at least one tunnel that is still passable,” Ryder says quietly.
“Are you referring to the tunnel between Old Unicoi and here?” Father asks.
“Yes.”
“I am aware of it also, but it’s not likely the Noirs used that tunnel. If they did, they’d have to use Old Unicoi as a point of entry. And I’m certain your people in Old Unicoi would have informed you of that.” He looks questioningly at Ryder.
“Absolutely,” Ryder says. “I’ve received no such reports.”
Ralston chimes in, “There is another possibility. What about Prince Damien’s men who were never captured? Could they be behind this?”
“With what motive?” Father says. “Damien is dead and no longer has designs on the throne. What do they stand to gain from Jaden’s death? Also, the offer of a reward suggests hired assassins, not marauders. They would need a powerful sponsor.”
Father sits on the ottoman in front of me, resting his elbows on his knees. “Jaden, I’ve known Prince Harold since we were young men, and as you may have gathered over the years, I’m not his greatest supporter. In the past, he has behaved in ways unbefitting a gentleman where certain financial matters were concerned. I must say, however, that I’ve known him always to be a loyal servant of your mother, and I’ve never witnessed an act of violence by his hand or at his direction. It would surprise me greatly if he had anything to do with today’s brutal attack.”
I sigh. “Maybe you’re right. I just know he has a low opinion of me, and he resents my presence at the palace.”
“On the chance that your fears are correct, I’d like to accompany you back to Warrington Palace to have a personal discussion with Harold. I believe I can readily discern his intentions toward you. In light of everything you’ve told me, your decisions regarding Harold’s position in the government and Osrielle’s removal from the line of succession seem practical. I’ll support you in any way I can. In the meantime, there is much work to do. Ryder, do you have any trackers you can spare to determine where the attackers went once they retreated?
“Of course. I’ll send word to Unicoi Village tonight.”
“Thank you.”
“Jaden, if you are agreeable, I’d like Captain Hornsby to begin efforts to identify the slain men and to determine what relationships or similarities exist between them. Perhaps we will be able to connect them to their employer.”
“Sure. That’s fine.”
“Very well. The hour is late. Lord Balfour will arrive before breakfast, so I suggest we all try to get a good night’s rest. Jaden, I have two men stationed outside your door. Please be assured you are safe here. In addition, I’ll make certain our trip to Warrington tomorrow will be without incident. I give you my word there will be no further unpleasant surprises.”
“Thank you, Father.”
FORTY-THREE
Lord Balfour arrives promptly at nine o’clock, just as breakfast is being served. He reports that the Enclave is abuzz with stories of yesterday’s attack. Crazy rumors are flying around about who was responsible. One theory has the Outlanders trying to steal me back. Another is that disgruntled Unicoi warriors attempted to kidnap me and hold me hostage. We know neither of these rumors is true, but I worry about how the news is affecting Mother. I pleaded with Father to delay sending word to Warrington Palace until I could speak with her in person. But he said it wouldn’t be fair to the families of the slain Royal Guardsman. I had to concede he was right.
Balfour suggests we invite the villagers to come by and view the bodies of the black knights to help in identifying them. That sounds gruesome and downright gross to me, but Father says he’ll consider allowing people to view the men’s faces at the crematorium once the bodies have been cleaned and wrapped in sheets.
After we’ve eaten and rehashed the local gossip, Lord Balfour and I meet in Father’s office to discuss my legal issues. Balfour confirms that Ralston’s interpretation of the law is spot on. A proclamation called an Act of Succession is the document I need in order to name Lorelei my heir apparent and to remove Osrielle from the line of succession. He says he’ll also draw up a Royal Decree revoking the appointment of Uncle Harold to the office of Lord High Steward.
“Is there someone you wish to appoint in his place?”
Drew crosses my mind, but I haven’t even spoken with him. “No. Not at the moment. Can I leave the office vacant for the time being?”
“Of course. There’s no law requiring the office to be filled. It’s the queen’s option.”
“Good. Now for the tricky part,” I say. “Would you be able to have these documents ready for my signature within a few hours? We’re hoping to return to Warrington early this afternoon. I’m sure my mother is very worried about me.”
Anxiety flits across his brow. “I’d prefer to have a few days to work on them, but if you require them this afternoon, you shall have them.”
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“Thank you so much, Lord Balfour,” I say. “There’s one other thing, I know that all of our communications are confidential, but after yesterday’s attack, I feel the need to emphasize that nobody must know about the existence of these documents—not even the parties involved. That’s why I chose to have them drawn up here. Can the people in your law office be trusted not to breathe a word of this to anyone?”
He passes his hand across his upper lip. “I believe I shall have Lady Balfour work with me to prepare these documents. She is a capable assistant when I need her. That way we will be certain of complete secrecy.”
“Wonderful,” I say, clapping my hands. “I’m very grateful.”
“Don’t mention it.” He lumbers to his feet. “I’d better get to it straight away. I shall return before one o’clock.”
