Chapter 16 #2
I turned back to Vannesh, and he looked ready to run into battle at my side. Not physically, of course. He was still a rather pudgy man, but the fierce determination in his eyes told me he was ready for this battle.
“After you, sire,” he murmured.
I nodded, took another breath, and stepped forward from my throne so I could address everyone.
“Thank you, Prime Minister,” I started because it seemed like the right thing to say. “Nathan Vannesh, my Master of Spies, and I have worked closely together to gather evidence of Queen Sybil’s crimes.”
“‘Crimes,’” Sybil scoffed loud enough for everyone to hear.
“The accused will be silent,” King Horus declared in a deep, rumbling voice. “Until it is her turn to speak, or she will be forcibly silenced.”
Sybil almost snarled at him, but she didn’t speak again.
“Queen Sybil has been working with Tamas Khorr,” I announced. “She has plans to join forces and work at his side as his empress.”
That revelation brought about a series of shocked and outraged gasps and rumblings from the crowd. One woman actually burst into tears, and I was pretty sure someone behind me growled.
“What evidence do you have, King Ken?” King Mannie asked.
“With the assistance of my head of security, Anders Kersey…” I gestured to him. “I discovered a messenger. A man named Drezzen.”
I watched Sybil’s face carefully when I said the man’s name, and there was the tiniest spark of recognition in her eyes.
“How did you find him?” Queen Doria asked.
Doria already knew the details, but I had a feeling it was important to include them in our official trial, not just for Sybil, but for the people to hear as well. Every citizen present deserved to know what the Silver Coast Queen had done and that we weren’t acting out of petty disagreements.
“We were investigating the tragic death of King Manolito’s ambassador, Rostam Dadan.” I gave King Mannie a sympathetic look. “The state of his body didn’t match what one might expect from an unfortunate and accidental trampling by a horse.”
“How so?” Queen Doria asked.
Once again, I was pretty sure that question was for the benefit of the audience. I repeated the details we had before I went on.
“We found tracks,” I said. “They moved away from the camp in a roundabout path that led us directly to the back of Queen Sybil’s tent.”
Gasps came from all around us, and I paused for a moment to let everyone process the information.
“You–” Sybil started.
“Silence!” King Horus shouted. “You will have your turn to speak, Queen Sybil. If you are unable to control yourself until then, you will be removed.”
“You can’t–” she tried again.
“We most certainly can,” Doria countered, and her blue eyes were as cold as the Arctic. “Now be silent.”
Sybil simmered in her rage, and she settled back in her throne with a stiff spine. Her body was so stiff, it looked like someone had filled her insides with quick-dry concrete.
“King Ken,” Eriz said. “What happened after you followed the tracks back to the accused’s tent?”
“We overheard a conversation between Queen Sybil and a man she called Drezzen,” I explained. “She spoke about plans and how they could have been ruined by his lack of care and attention to detail. Then she wrote a message–”
“How do you know she wrote a message, Your Majesty?” Queen Lucita asked, but her tone was only curious.
“We could hear the scratching of a quill on parchment,” I explained.
Queen Lucita nodded like she was satisfied with that answer.
“A moment after that,” I continued, “the man, Drezzen, exited the rear of the tent. Anders and I followed him.”
I paused to take a breath and reviewed what had happened in my head, so I didn’t miss any details. My eyes flashed to Anders, and he gave me a sly nod of confirmation.
“We followed him for quite a while,” I said. “Then he stopped and searched for something in a bushy area a ways outside camp. He didn’t find whatever he was looking for and then continued walking on foot.”
“Which direction did he go?” Queen Lucita asked.
“South,” I answered.
The crowd mumbled their reaction to that, and I checked in with some of the people who’d looked worried earlier. Their concern had begun to shift to either anger or expressions I couldn’t read.
“After a few more miles,” I explained, “Drezzen led us to a horse he had waiting for him. We knew we had to act before he could get away. We raced up beside him, and I pulled him off his horse.”
I watched Sybil carefully as I revealed these details. I’d been curious about her relationship with Drezzen and whether he was a servant or more of a friend to her.
She didn’t seem all that upset when I explained that he’d killed himself via poison berries. If anything, she looked like a sixteen-year-old girl who’d just had the Homecoming Queen title stolen out from under her by the less popular girl.
“What did you find on Drezzen’s person that confirms Queen Sybil’s guilt?” King Mannie asked.
“The note she had written.” I gestured for Vannesh to come forward. “In her own hand, she wrote to Tamas Khorr. Master Vannesh, would you read the note aloud, if you please?”
“Yes, sire.” Vannesh nodded and held the parchment up in front of himself.
He read the note, word for word, in a loud, clear voice.
“Signed, ‘Your Sybil.’” Vannesh lowered the note and took a step back.
“That doesn’t prove–” Sybil tried again.
“Shut! Up!” King Horus hollered. “King Ken, please continue.”
One of King Horus’ guards stalked away from his king’s side and lifted a hand as if he was prepared to slap Sybil across the face.
She actually shrank back in her throne the tiniest bit from the approaching soldier.
“After that,” I said. “We took the body and started to make our way back to camp. More of my guards met us along the way, and we stopped in the brush where Drezzen had been searching for something.”
“What did you find?” King Horus asked.
“Reggie?” I called. “Bring it forward, please.”
Reggie nodded and bent down behind Tanell’s throne to grab something.
“If you’ll recall the details about Sir Rostam’s death…” I looked around at the entire crowd, not just the leaders. “And the suspicious nature of his injuries…”
Reggie walked over and held up the board with the blood-crusted horseshoe nailed on the end.
“Oh, god!” a woman screeched from the crowd.
“He was murdered!” someone else cried.
“Master Vannesh,” I said. “Will you give us your expert opinion on this item?”
“Yes, sire,” he said, and he took the block from Reggie’s hands. “This is the murder weapon. I have no doubt about this fact. The horseshoe on this board is smaller than an average shoe, and it perfectly matches the marks on Sir Rostam’s chest and head.”
“Thank you,” I said and sighed under the weight of everything. “Queen Sybil has been conspiring with the tyrant, Khorr, and she arranged for the murder of King Mannolito’s ambassador, Rostam Dadan.”
“But why?” Queen Lucita suddenly burst into tears. “Why did you have him killed? He was a kind man!”
“I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “I don’t have the answer to that question.”
“It doesn’t really matter, does it?” Yori asked.
Many heads in the crowd nodded in agreement with her, and Mannie reached over to comfort his queen with a hand on her thigh.
“Perhaps we should address the other crime Queen Sybil is accused of?” Eriz suggested. “Then we can move on and allow her to speak.”
“Very good.” King Mannie nodded.
“I agree,” Queen Doria said.
King Horus gestured his consent as well, so I shifted gears.
“Queen Sybil is accused of attempted assassination of a monarch of Kelshar,” I said.
“Which one?” a man in the crowd shouted.
Several voices took up the call, and I had to raise both of my hands to get everyone to quiet down so I could answer.
“King Giles,” I announced. “By slow-acting poison.”
“How absurd–” Sybil scoffed with a heavy roll of her eyes.
King Horus shot her a deadly look, and she clammed right back up again.
“What evidence do you have?” Prime Minister Eriz asked.
“Um…” I hesitated because I didn’t actually have any evidence to back up that claim. “I–”
“I believe I can help with that.” King Giles himself stood from his throne.
Every head in the crowd whipped around to look at the pale-faced king, but I turned to look at Sybil.
Her eyes had narrowed into thin slits, her jaw was clenched tight enough to crush carbon into diamonds, and the red was starting to creep back into her face.
Holy shit.
“When I first began to fall ill,” King Giles began.
“I assumed it was an unfortunate stroke of bad luck. I assumed some illness had gotten into my system, and there was nothing to be done. The healers my wife had selected for me were certain that the bouts of sickness would come at random and unpredictable times, but I wasn’t so sure. ”
Sybil started to grind her teeth together, and even though I was standing, I was on the very edge of my seat.
“I began to track my symptoms,” Giles revealed. “I began to write down every visit from every healer you sent my way, as well as when I became ill and how ill I was.”
“What did you learn from this note-taking, Your Majesty?” Tanell asked.
“I learned that I always became sick after the healers visited me,” Giles explained. “I started to track when they would give me doses of their so-called medicines. I started to learn about the different concoctions they gave me, and I kept detailed records of how each one affected me.”
He paused for a moment, and I wasn’t sure if it was for dramatic effect or because he needed to catch his breath. His color was never good, but he was especially pale at the moment, and his breathing had become a bit more labored.
“About two months ago,” Giles said, “I selected my own healer. I released the healers chosen by my wife, and while I was still ill quite frequently in the beginning, the bouts of sickness became fewer and farther between.”
Giles turned back toward the Silver Coast tents and motioned for someone to join him.
A tall, thin man in dark robes walked forward.