Chapter 48 Weapon in their Hands #2
I nodded once. “Because Donavyn taught me how to be strong. He makes all of us stronger. Including you. And now your husband is trying to kill him.”
Diaan blew out a breath. “You must be mistaken. Alexi would never—”
“Are you certain of that?” I asked quietly.
Her eyes narrowed. “Prove it.”
I frowned. “How can I—”
“Prove that he has lied. Prove that he’s hidden details from me. You said you’ve discovered this plot—how? What convinced you that my husband, who has promoted and applauded Donavyn since he was young, would now try to remove him?”
I took a deep breath. Over the past days of flights, I’d wracked my brain looking for the details that would prove to the Queen that the King was a traitor to his own men. And to her.
I didn’t have the messages in the King’s hand that would prove the orders he’d given—though I could tell her about the messages she might have seen.
Yet, those would be read in the Shadowfang code, and she’d have to believe me that the marks were symbols for a code—if she even had originals to look at, rather than copies.
So, I’d spent all those hours, filing through every little detail of this investigation and scheme, trying to find some tangible way to prove to her that her husband was a traitor to his own crown. And realized how little actual proof I had.
“Have you seriously come to me with this accusation based only on a hunch?” she said, actually shocked—and that wariness returning to her gaze.
“No,” I growled. But much of the information I had could be argued.
I needed a detail that might have been obscured or misrepresented to her, so that she could know from an objective source that she’d been deceived.
“Do you remember how insistent the king was on sending me to Fyrehold? And Donavyn as well?”
“Indeed. But I, too, believed that to be a cunning plan, and very suitable to the role you were given in the ranks. That is hardly—”
“Do you remember the assessment team that Donavyn sent to review the Fyrehold herd? The orders he sent before telling the king—the one that delayed our departure?”
“Yes.”
“Were you with the king when he received word from them that they’d assessed the herd and thought we should move ahead?”
The queen frowned. “No. But it’s hardly treasonous for the king to receive a message—”
“Don’t you think it’s odd that the assessment team—that Donavyn sent personally—reported back to the king directly?”
The queen didn’t respond. I pressed on.
“When we reached Fyrehold, it became obvious very quickly that something was dramatically wrong with the Fyrehold herd—or lack thereof. Not only did the assessment team have no dragons to assess, but the Furymaster himself told us that they’d come and gone within a day, apologizing for the fact that there was no way we could combine the herds in a healthy way.
He’d been surprised when he heard—from his king—that Donavyn was still coming.
After we arrived and saw the state of their Keep, he begged us to stay and insisted that we could find a way to work together.
And in that process, he revealed how quickly the assessment team had left, and the message they’d intended to report.
Yet, Donavyn never received their report…
then days later than it should have arrived, the king received their positive assessment, and he sent us on without the chance to see or speak to them. Why?”
Her gaze grew uneasy. “Because it was timely—”
“Because he needed us there. I don’t know what communication he had with that team, Your Majesty, but whatever it was… it wasn’t a simple message of approval. And I wonder… did that team ever return to Vosgaarde? Was their real report intercepted? Or were they?”
The queen sat, staring at me, for a few seconds, then got to her feet with a muttered command to remain where I was, and went to a door at the side of the room—not the one I’d entered through.
She leaned out of it, murmuring to someone on the other side, then closed it again. Still, she didn’t move immediately.
She stood on profile to me, her forehead lined, chewing her lower lip and frowning at the door. Then she rolled her shoulders back and returned to stand in front of me in the sitting area, her eyes flashing.
“It was a strange thing that happened a few days after you left,” she said quietly.
“There was a report about that team… and that they’d been delayed in their return.
A dragon growing ill, or some such. I didn’t think about it at the time.
Never followed up to learn what became of them.
But my scribe… he says the logs don’t show them ever returning to Vosgaarde. ”
I waited, barely breathing as her lips thinned.
“I think you had best start at the beginning,” she said darkly.
“Who did you speak to? What did they tell y—”
“Bren, I have been very patient with your demands, but I remain your queen. And I am listening. You have caught my attention. And I will confirm details independently, as you said. Now, I am telling you: Start at the beginning of this tale and continue speaking. Give me every detail whether you believe I might confirm it or not. Don’t stop talking until I tell you to. ”
Then she flowed around the table to sit in the chair where she’d been when I first arrived. She didn’t invite me to sit. She picked up her goblet, took a sip from it, fixed me with a tense, gaze, and waited.
So, I did as I was told. And I watched the storms brew in her eyes as I did so.