Chapter 26 #2
It’s not a killing blow, but she collapses to her knees with a shriek, dropping her sword. I kick the blade out of reach, then shove the table over on the other side of the dais. The crowd of nobles quickly backs up as the water spills over onto the floor.
There’s a soft pitter patter on the dais as blood drips from my arm, but I ignore it, circling Oclanna. She tries to get to her feet again, but I shove her down with a foot, and she releases a desperate sob.
“Alastor!” I shout, keeping my eyes on Oclanna, making sure she doesn’t try anything. I sense movement in the crowd and see a flash of blond out of the corner of my eye.
“Ask her,” I say, trusting my friend is paying attention. “Ask her if she killed my mother and father.”
There’s a commotion on another side of the dais—scuffling and some shouts. I hear Jocor’s voice protesting, but I ignore it. This is my only chance to hear her say it, and I’ll be damned if I let her die without getting this closure.
“Were you responsible for the murder of Queen Elowen and King Alaric?” Alastor asks.
The sudden serene expression on Oclanna’s face is at odds with the tears staining it.
“Yes, I was,” she says. I ignore the reaction of the crowd, listening carefully to her answers.
“Did you act alone?”
“No. The Grand Bearer gave me instructions on framing the Filusian prince through Anointer Nunias. Jocor hired the assassin.”
She blinks as Alastor’s magic fades, looking around at the shocked faces of the crowd as they whisper oaths and murmur to their neighbors. Blood drains from her face as she begins to understand what just happened. Then her expression grows furious.
“How dare you use your fae tricks on me!” she spits, her eyes burning into mine. “You know, you’re just like your mother. She was also a conniving bitch who thought she was better than everyone.”
I slap Oclanna so hard she goes sprawling across the floor with a shriek. I don’t give her a chance to right herself, dragging her onto her back and kneeling down, pinning her in place by pressing one knee hard against her chest.
She scrabbles at the thick material of my pants with her fingers as she frantically tries to free herself by kicking out against the floor. But I’m stronger and angrier, and my hold doesn’t waver.
This woman grew up having everything handed to her. She was so convinced that she was entitled to anything she wanted that she decided she deserved the throne too. She didn’t even have the dedication to do the dirty work herself.
But my story is different. Every life I’ve taken, I’ve done it looking them squarely in the eyes.
“I suppose I have you to thank, Oclanna,” I say sincerely. “If you hadn’t tried to murder me, if you hadn’t driven me from this palace, I would never have learned to be strong enough to kill you today.”
Then I drive my sword into her chest. She convulses beneath me, and I watch the light slowly fade from her eyes. When her body goes limp, I rise, wincing as the fight leaves my body and I start to feel the full burn of the gash along my arm.
When I look up, the whole crowd is bowing to me. Even the fae. Leon lifts his chin, giving me a smile.
“Well done, my love,” he says.
“No collapsing buildings needed,” I reply with a quirk of my eyebrow, but I’m gritting my teeth through the pain radiating from my arm. At least I know the palace has a decent healer on staff. My palace. My healer.
I look out across the crowd of my subjects. I may have won this fight, but winning over my people could be a much more difficult task.
Leon
I flick the bars of the dungeon cell, making the clang of iron ring out through the stone chamber.
“Do you think they fortified it after I ripped the last one to pieces?” I ask Alastor.
“If they were smart,” Alastor replies, coming up behind me to nudge the door with his foot. “I suppose it depends how many more fae princes they’re planning to arrest.”
“Well, hopefully none now,” I say. “Unless I manage to monumentally piss off Ana.”
Alastor smirks at my joke, then nods at the bars. “Shall we get this over with?”
“Alright.”
We both turn to look at the cell occupant. Anointer Robik huddles in the corner, his sunken eyes staring out at us while he worries the cap in his hands to pieces.
It’s been a busy day since Ana won her challenge.
Clearly, the first thing we needed to do was secure the palace to ensure none of Oclanna’s close allies tried to take revenge.
Becane arrested Jocor Rosier after Oclanna’s confession.
The man didn’t put up much of a fight. It’s clear to me Jocor genuinely loved his wife, and watching her death sucked all the strength out of him.
We sent the rest of the court home, aside from the royal council.
Right now, Ana is holding her first meeting with them, in which she’ll explain the importance of publicly condemning Caledon and dismantling the Temple’s control.
She’d wanted me there at first, but I’d pointed out that this was her council, her kingdom. All the decisions had to be hers.
“There’s nothing wrong with getting advice. Especially from people more experienced than you,” she pointed out. “I’m not so arrogant as to think I have all the answers.”
“You’re absolutely right, my love,” I replied. “And that will make you a brilliant queen. But right now, you want Trova to see you as a capable, independent leader, and having a foreign royal meddling in matters of state isn’t a good look.”
Of course, I’m always there, listening across the mooring in case she has an urgent question or worry.
But I have confidence in her. She’s negotiated with kings and council members before, and in much more difficult circumstances.
She’s good at this, much better than me. Thankfully, I have other skills.
That’s why she’s upstairs with the council, and I’m down here about to interrogate the other Oclanna collaborator.
“Robik, is it?” I ask the anointer through the bars.
“Y-yes,” the man stutters. I share a glance with Alastor.
“Why would the Temple send such a nervous wreck to be the palace anointer? Seems a pretty important job to give to this guy,” I say to my friend.
Alastor shrugs. “Maybe he wasn’t a nervous wreck before you turned up. You tend to have that effect on people.”
I shake my head, remembering the anointer’s reluctance to speak at court. At least Anointer Nunias had some conviction. He was a smug, superior asshole, but he believed in his superiority.
“Sophos said Caledon has been less trusting of his senior clerics recently,” I suggest to Alastor. “Maybe he wanted someone he knew he could control in this post. That’s got to be more important to him than competence right now.”
We’ve been ignoring the anointer throughout this, but I look at him now.
“Robik, we’re going to ask you some questions about Caledon’s activities, and you’re going to tell us what you know.”
“I don’t know anything!” he blurts out. “Really, I swear.”
I sigh. “You disappoint me, Robik. Because you see, we’ve already spoken to General Becane.
He says that Oclanna gave Caledon control of his units.
That he didn’t even know where they were half the time, so he had no idea they were searching for the tokens.
It’s made his job very difficult. Then we spoke to Jocor Rosier. ”
I take a step closer to the bars, making sure the anointer can see my steely gaze.
“He wasn’t much use either. Aside from admitting to burning down the queen’s childhood home and all the grisly murders he organized, he claims that most of his and Oclanna’s guidance came from the Temple through their personal cleric. That’s you, Robik.”
Robik’s cap is almost in tatters now as he shakes his head. “No. No it’s not true. I—”
“Alastor, would you do the honors?” I ask, cutting off the cleric’s begging.
Magic fizzes through the cell, Robik’s face slipping into an easy smile.
“What was Caledon using the royal armies for?” Alastor asks.
“To search for the tokens of Ethira.”
“Did they know that’s what they were searching for?”
“Sometimes. The soldiers were never the ones holding all the information. The Grand Bearer tried to keep them in the dark as much as possible.”
“How?”
“They were instructed day-to-day by a handful of clerics under the direct guidance of Caledon. Not even the bearers knew the details about their movements.”
“But you knew them?” Alastor asks.
Robik shakes his head. “No. Not much. Especially not after they found the bow, the Grand Bearer—”
“He’s found the bow of Ethira?” I demand, my blood running cold.
Robik says nothing, his face still placid.
“I have to ask the questions,” Alastor reminds me, turning back to the anointer. “Has Caledon found the bow of Ethira?”
“Yes,” Robik says, and Alastor and I share a grim look.
“What about the cup?” Alastor asks, urgency in his voice. “Has he found that?”
“I don’t know,” Robik says. “The Grand Bearer hasn’t been communicating with me much since he found the bow. I’m not even sure if he knows where the cup is.”
“We need to speak to Ana,” I tell Alastor. “This changes things.”
We leave Robik behind in the dungeon and hurry back up to the council’s meeting chamber. She hasn’t yet checked in with me despite the flare of discomfort that just ran through me. She must be distracted. But this can’t wait.
“How’s it going?” I ask through the mooring as Alastor and I wait outside the chamber door.
“Not good. They’re arguing about whether we should ask Caledon to step down, as if he’s going to quietly hand over all his power if we make the request nicely.”
Then she must pick up the tension in my chest because there’s only a brief pause before the chamber door swings open. Ana stands there, her face etched with concern.
“What’s wrong?” she asks. “We have time to talk—I’ve left them discussing some obscure bylaw about royal oversight,” she rolls her eyes.
“We’ve got bigger things to worry about,” I say darkly. “Caledon’s further ahead than we thought. He’s found the third artifact—Ethira’s bow.”
Ana is silent, but I sense the wave of fear swelling inside her. It consumes her for a moment, even if her expression is unchanged. Then a fresh sensation follows it, her jaw tightening as she lifts her head: determination.
“Then there’s no point trying to take down the whole Temple, not when he only needs one more artifact before he’s immortal and we’re all doomed.”
We don’t need to point out to each other that we don’t have much chance finding Ethira’s cup before Caledon. It could be hidden anywhere, or completely lost to legend—though I doubt we’re that lucky.
Ana flings the chamber door wide. “Follow me,” she says as she reenters the room.
A few of the council members eye me suspiciously as Ana takes her seat.
I take up a position beside her chair, trying to strike a balance of looking authoritative without seeming too intimidating.
If the wide eyes and nervous twitch of the council member nearest me is anything to go by, I’m failing.
“There’s been a change of plans,” Ana says. “That ritual I warned you about? The one that will make Caledon the most powerful person in this land? He’s dangerously close to being able to complete it.”
“He’s found another token?” one of the older councilmembers asks.
“It seems he has,” Ana says, and I’m impressed by how well she masks her frustration and anger at this news.
But then, she always was good at masking her emotions.
It’s very clever—a useful skill for a queen—though admittedly, I’d probably hate it with a passion if the mooring didn’t mean she could never hide from me.
Countess Irisma sighs as if this is nothing more than a particularly annoying Tuesday afternoon.
“In that case, I think we’d better call in General Becane.”
A middle-aged man makes a grunt of disagreement. “Why would we do that? Involving the army is exactly the kind of thing which could escalate the situation unnecessarily.”
“If Caledon finds that last token, he’ll invade and conquer every part of Tiearland.
I’d say the situation has already escalated,” Ana says coolly.
“According to Bearer Sophos, Caledon’s already raising an army for that very purpose.
If it’s a war he wants, he’ll get one. We’ll just have to take the fight to him before he can get his hands on that cup. ”