Chapter 84 Keris
Keris
“Queen Katarina of Amarid, Your Grace,” the herald repeated, as though the silence in the room was due to confusion over the Crimson Widow’s identity. “She is in the custody of Lord Archibold Bennett.”
“What?” William gave a sharp shake of his head. “He was supposed to execute her after she was captured.”
Keris heard the words, but it was not William’s response that interested him. Alexandra’s expression was blank, but all the color had drained from her face, her lips an alarming shade of gray.
Whereas Lestara’s skin was flushed pink with triumph.
“Well, well, well,” Ronan said. “It would seem proof has arrived. I wonder, Alex, do you think Kat will keep your confidence now that you have stabbed her in the back?”
The way he spoke reminded Keris abruptly of how his father had spoken about Petra, and Petra about him. Rulers in the old guard who knew their enemies so well that they were almost like friends.
“I think she will say whatever she needs to stay to save her own neck,” Alexandra replied. “Her word is worth even less than yours.”
Getting to his feet, Keris said, “I, for one, would like to hear what the Crimson Widow has to say. If what you say is true, Your Grace, she murdered my family, and I would have justice.”
Ronan gave a sharp nod. “I would have the same.”
William hesitated, then waved one hand. “Bring her in.” Then he leveled his finger at Ronan.
“You will be silent. If you lead her with accusations, you will render her testimony useless and all here will know you to be a faithless liar. The stakes are high, Ronan—Cardiff needs this alliance more than Harendell.”
It was like watching a pot on the verge of boiling over, but rather than exploding, Ronan inclined his head. “As you like. We will hear the Crimson Widow speak.”
Uniformed soldiers brought Katarina into the throne room, and though she was tiny and old and frail, it struck Keris that no one in the entire room, not even Ronan or Alexandra, held the gravitas of the queen of Amarid.
In deference to her rank, servants had dressed her as befit a queen.
Katarina wore a crimson brocade gown with a train that fanned out behind her.
Her wig was an identical hue, and it had been styled into a tower above her head and woven with chains of gold, giving her at least an extra foot of height.
Her cosmetics were heavy, skin painted white and lips red, eyes rimmed with dark kohl.
To cover what were rumored to be rotten teeth, she wore a false set made of gold and jewels, the feral smile on her face causing it to glint in the sunlight.
The epitome of defiance, and though nothing she could say would save her life, Keris was struck with the sense that the Crimson Widow yet had a card to play. Though Fiona didn’t move from Keris’s ankles, she leaned toward the queen, nose sniffing the air, but remained silent.
The soldiers pushed Katarina to her knees before the Twisted Throne, but instead of lowering her head, the queen of Amarid stared William down and said, “You look like a child sitting upon his father’s throne playing at king, Your Grace. The crown does not fit your head half so well as Edward’s.”
William’s jaw tightened, but he showed uncharacteristic restraint as he said, “Be silent, woman. There are laws in the conduct of war in the north, Katarina, and in poisoning innocent civilians, innocent children, you have violated them all.”
William’s voice caught on the last, as though emotion had gotten the better of him in the face of such awful acts, and it made Keris wonder what sort of man he might have been if he’d been born to a different life.
A young noble stepped forward, presumably Archibold Bennett.
“We caught her in the midst of making a deal with the Maridrinians, Your Grace. Plenty of graves on Midwatch, and if there is an Ithicanian alive, we did not see them. We put a few of her soldiers to the question, and they all admitted to knowledge of the poison plot. She herself has been silent.”
She had been meant to be permanently silenced, judging from Alexandra’s pallor, but William only nodded. Lestara’s face was blank, but Keris didn’t miss how Bennett’s eyes flicked to her and then away again.
“There is no judge or jury, nor king, nor empress who would pardon you for what you have done, Katarina of Amarid. There are too many witnesses, too many corpses, and far too much proof of your guilt. It is fair and right that you be condemned to death.”
“Did you murder my sister?” Ronan stepped forward. “And my brother as well?”
“Ahh, we get to the true accusations,” Katarina murmured. “No one cares about the Ithicanians, they’re just an excuse.”
“Answer the question!”
“Well, I didn’t personally kill them, but yes, I gave the orders.” Katarina tilted her head. “But no one in this room cares about Cardiffians either.”
Ronan closed his eyes briefly, naked grief filling his face. When they opened, all that was left was hate. “Did you have an accomplice?”
“Oh dear.” Her gaze drifted to Alexandra. “Has that old rumor bubbled up?” Jewels flashed in the sunlight as she grinned.
Alexandra sat back down on her chair, gripping the arms. “Hateful old bitch. Those rumors were of your creation. Your mirth speaks to madness, because you will be executed for all that you have done.”
The queen of Amarid shrugged. “It seems the pupil has surpassed the master, and I find that I take some pleasure in that.”
“Enough vagaries,” Ronan demanded. “Answer the question.”
Katarina remained silent.
“Answer!” Ronan roared. “Did Alexandra conspire with you?”
Silence.
William grimaced, sweat dampening his brow beneath his crown. “Speak the truth and tell them you acted alone. Confess to all your crimes, and rather than losing your life, you will only lose your crown and your freedom.”
All across the room, brows furrowed, because William had effectively destroyed the legitimacy of Katarina’s testimony.
Yet Keris didn’t think it was an act of strategy, but rather one of desperation.
The skin above William’s jugular fluttered rapidly, and the underarms of his coat were beginning to soak through with sweat.
“This was not what we agreed to!” The room seemed to shake from the volume of Ronan’s voice. “Alexandra is guilty, but you are a grown man still on the teat and you do not know how to live without her. You make yourself look weak. You make Harendell look weak.”
“I will not condemn my mother based solely on the word of a known liar,” William replied.
A soft rasping noise filled the throne room, and it took Keris a heartbeat to realize that Katarina was laughing. It grew louder, the sound making his skin crawl, and as he stared at the queen, Keris was reminded of the Magpie just before he took his last flight.
“What an unexpected treat to discover I am not the only one who stands accused,” she cackled. “I see you, William. See that you are torn between loyalty to your mummy and your desperate desire to disprove your father’s belief you would make a poor king.”
Katarina panned her gaze across onlookers, and when her eyes locked on Keris’s, he swore evil itself looked straight into his soul.
Ronan stepped closer, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “This is your last chance to speak, Katarina. I will not lead you, as William has done, because you know the truths we wish to hear. Speak and be done with it. Go to death with your conscience clear.”
The queen of Amarid showed no fear, only amusement as she said, “You promise me mercy if I absolve your mother, William, but Ronan promises me absolution if I condemn her. How to choose? More important, will all those watching believe what I have to say?”
“Get on with it, Katarina.” The words ripped from Keris’s throat. “No matter what you say, you are a dead woman walking for what you did to Ithicana.”
“Killing me won’t help you sleep at night,” she replied. “When you lie awake, remember how you guided Aren toward my outstretched hand. Think of me, Keris. When you finally jump, think of me all the way down.”
Keris’s blood ran cold, his skin crawling.
“Enough stalling!” The king of Cardiff’s hand was balled into a fist as though he might strike her. “Speak your truth!”
“As you like.” Katarina smiled, and it was all gold and jewels. “I will tell all that I know, but only to the king of Harendell. Come, William, let me whisper my words in your ear.”
“William, no!” Alexandra spoke for the first time. “You are the king! This is beneath you!”
William ignored her. “To what end? Why do you play this game, Katarina?”
Her eyes were cold as frost as she said, “Because the truth is what you make of it.”
The king of Harendell rested his hand on his sword hilt, but he didn’t move.
“Are you afraid to come close to an old woman?” Katarina asked, baiting him. “Or is it the truth that you fear?”
“I fear nothing,” William snapped, then belied his own words by adding, “But I’ve no interest in playing whispering games like a child.”
“That is my deal.” Katarina’s golden teeth gleamed as she grinned. “Threaten me, torture me, do your worst. But I will only speak the truth into your ear.”
Keris’s skin crawled, and at his feet, his dog whined and pressed closer to his leg, her small body trembling.
William descended the steps of the dais and closed the distance. “Get up, woman. I bend the knee to no one.”
Katarina rose. “My whisper is only for you, William.”
“Move back.” He waved a hand at the soldiers, the action flippant, but Keris sensed the other man’s unease even before he drew his sword, holding it loosely in his hand. “She’s only an old woman. I’ve no fear of her.”
I do, Keris thought, seeing the gleam in Katarina’s midnight eyes as she slowly got to her feet.
William bent his head, and with one hand pressed against his cheek to hold him close, Katarina began to whisper.