Chapter 8 #3
“Given how things turned out, it’s best we keep out of the public eye.” The speakers neared their hiding spot inside the wall and the women held still rather than fleeing. While Avera knew eavesdropping was wrong, she couldn’t deny a certain naughty thrill and curiosity.
“I can’t believe she appointed a woman as duke,” Venne stated with clear disgust.
“We won’t have to deal with her for long. The pieces are almost in place.”
The voice… the familiarity had her frowning. Who could it be? She went to move the wooden cover to peek, but Josslyn put a hand on her arm and shook her head pointing to the lantern. The light might give them away.
Josslyn handled it by tucking it under her shawl and giving her a nod.
A deep breath and Avera pressed her eye to the hole to see who spoke but only saw a broad back partially concealed behind some stacked casks.
“Smart idea framing the duke,” Venne stated.
“Had to do something. Gustav would have kept hunting for the person behind the assassinations. I thought it best to offer someone plausible. Petturi served his purpose. No point in keeping him around.”
“What of his son? He seems to think he’ll be stepping into his father’s role.”
“That weak idiot?” The disdainful snort sent shivers down Avera’s spine. “If he makes a pest of himself then an accident is easy to arrange.”
Avera stiffened at the casual way the other man spoke of murder.
“Speaking of accidents, when is the bastard queen going to meet her demise?”
Avera slapped a hand over her mouth lest they hear her gasp. Josslyn gripped her arm tight. To think she’d met with Venne and thought him stiff but respectful. A lie, apparently. She truly couldn’t trust anyone.
“She’ll be gone soon, the question being whether we can arrange it before the tiara ceremony. The original plan to have her thrown from her horse might not work given that old rook’s been coddling her.”
“I don’t see why we can’t just murder her like the others,” Venne said.
Avera’s nails dug into her palms as she listened to them callously discussing her death.
“Because a murder at this stage would come across as a coup and the people might revolt. Better they think they lost their queen to a senseless accident. Then when it comes time to put someone on the throne, they’ll be more accepting.”
“And if they aren’t?” Venne questioned.
“Then anyone speaking against my ascent will be deemed a traitor to the throne.” A cold reply.
Who spoke? Why did she feel as if she knew them? Wracking her brain, she couldn’t think of anyone with that kind of low, serious tone.
“This would have been easier had that bastard died with the others.”
“Unfortunately, the assassins had difficulty getting through the culvert. The bolts holding the grill in place rusted and snapped when they tried to remove it. The grate required sawing which in turn meant they had to go find the proper tools. A minor setback. By this time next week, the Voxspira line will be no more, and a new age will begin.”
“With a king to lead us once more as we pave the way for the return of our master,” stated Venne.
What master? Avera’s questions mounted.
“What are we doing with the Grand Rook? Will he also suffer an accident?”
“Once I’m king, I’ll retire him.”
“And if he balks?”
“Charge him with treason. After all, he failed to protect the Voxspira line.” The sneering tone niggled. Where had she heard it before?
“I look forward to us meeting in comfort with wine and women.”
“Soon. Very soon everything we’ve worked for will come to fruition.”
“First, Daerva, then onward to liberate he who has been waiting.” Venne sounded almost reverent.
“Make sure the fleet is ready. Once I’m crowned, we’ll begin the next phase.”
“I cannot wait.”
“I’ll not contact you again until after the bastard queen is dead. Be ready to support my claim.”
“Of course, my king.”
The men chuckled and the sound of back slapping had Avera clenching her jaw. She’d have Venne hung, right after he revealed those he conspired with.
“I should go before a servant comes to see if I got lost. I’d better grab a bottle as it wouldn’t do to return from the cellar empty-handed.” A bottle clinked. “Petturi and his cheap piss,” Venne grumbled. “I’ll have a better vintage for when I raise the first toast to your reign.”
A single set of steps had Avera holding her breath. The other man obviously waited so they wouldn’t be seen exiting together.
Avera didn’t move her eye from the peephole, hoping for a glimpse.
The man drew a hood over his head before shuttering his lantern so it barely glowed. He pivoted and headed for the wall from which she peeked.
In a panic, Avera let the wooden eyelet shut and flattened herself against the stone.
At least the door into the secret tunnels had a bar holding it shut, meaning he couldn’t enter the tunnel.
Then again, she didn’t really need to hide.
She wasn’t the one conspiring against the throne or the one speaking of murder.
Her fingers gripped her dagger and she planted herself in front of the door. As she reached for the bar, Josslyn hissed, “What are you doing?”
“Killing the traitor.”
“He’s gone.” Josslyn had her eye to the hole as Avera removed the wooden plank.
“Maybe we can catch him.” She shoved open the door and stepped into the dark cellar. Josslyn followed holding up the lantern.
Nobody remained. Avera raced for the steps only to see them empty. Whoever had been talking to Venne had disappeared, indicating another secret passage. “He’s gone,” she echoed Josslyn’s observation. She couldn’t help a note of disappointment.
“Did you see their face?” Josslyn asked.
“No. But I know that voice. I’ve heard it before. I just need to remember who it belongs to.”
“We need to tell Gustav.”
Her rook wouldn’t be pleased with their discovery, but at the same time, they’d gained invaluable information.
Someone still wanted her dead. Several someones.
In silence, they made their way back through the tunnels to Avera’s office with Josslyn murmuring, “That was a most disturbing thing to overhear.”
“But enlightening.” The plot, as suspected, encompassed more than the duke.
“What are you going to do?”
Avera could only offer a wan reply. “Do my best to not die.”