Through her relief, Asta suddenly noticed an urgent movement at the back of the square. A rider had arrived. He seemed to be shouting at the people to the rear of the crowd, trying to make himself heard against the wall of noise. To Asta’s surprise, the crowd parted to create a corridor through the center of their ranks to allow the rider through.
The rider brought his horse to a standstill at Asta’s feet. She saw that he was not riding alone but with a young boy, presumably his son.
“I come from Lindas,” he told her. “Others from my settlement will follow here soon—those who have survived.”
His words gradually brought the crowd to silence once more. The man turned from Asta and addressed the people of Galvaire directly. “Lindas has been razed,” he announced. “They are destroying our houses, burning our grain stores and slaughtering the livestock in our fields.” He paused to suck in a breath, no doubt weakened by the dual exertion of riding and the inhalation of smoke. “You need to take swift action. You need to flee. This enemy will slaughter every living thing in its path. Do not waste time.”
His words were like a touch paper, reigniting the crowd, only now with panic and horror. Their previous inclination to fight was nowhere to be seen.
“Please!” Asta attempted to calm them. “Please, listen to me! You have to stand firm. You have to fight. I told you. Help is on its way.”
“Help is not on its way.” In spite of his obvious exhaustion, the rider from Lindas matched the strength of her voice with his own. “There is no time for help to reach you. The advance of the enemy is like brush fire. They will be here in Galvaire before you know it. Vollerim is razed, now Lindas too. How can you question that Galvaire will be next? Save yourselves. Save your children. Flee!”
Looking out over the panicking crowd, Asta realized she had no hope of bringing the people of Galvaire back to calm again. She stepped closer to the rider.
“How far away is the enemy, in your opinion?”
“They will be here before the day is out, probably sooner,” he told her, stroking his son’s hair soothingly as he delivered the fateful news.
“It’s good you were able to save yourself and your family,” she said.
The man dropped his head, continuing to stroke the boy’s russet locks. “I was not able to save us all.”
Asta closed her eyes, unable to ask the obvious next question. When she opened her eyes, she saw that the boy was looking up at her. Almost certainly, that morning, he had had a mother. Perhaps brothers and sisters too.
“Where will you go?” she asked, as steadily as possible, her eyes remaining on the child, though her question was for the father.
“Somewhere. Anywhere.” His voice was resigned. “How do you outrun a brush fire? Can you tell me that?” As he spoke, he dug his heels into the side of his horse and turned from her to continue on his journey.
“Wait!” she called. The man glanced over his shoulder. She saw the complete absence of hope in his eyes, having lost so much in so short a time. She guessed that his young son was the only thing keeping him going now.
“Ride on to Mellerad,” she told him. “The fortified city walls will offer you greater protection than the fir forests to the north.”
The man nodded to her. It was the smallest of gestures, but she hoped that she had given him an injection of hope, however fleeting.
There was a new voice at Asta’s side now. “We need to get out of here.” Turning, she saw one of the palace escorts there. His words were urgent, his voice tinged, to her surprise, with panic.
“Where do we go from here?” she asked him.
“Back to the palace,” he said. “Our horses are waiting on the other side of the church.”
Asta absorbed the words, then turned back toward the crowd. It was thinning fast now. Spurred on by the bleak messenger from Lindas, the people of Galvaire had gone to swiftly prepare for flight.
Standing there, Asta knew that she had failed in her mission that morning, but she would not fail in her bigger duties to these people, and the people in each and every one of the settlements of Archenfield.
She turned back to the guard. “We cannot ride back to the palace,” she told him.
He opened his mouth to protest, but she spoke over his protest. “We’ll ride to Mellerad.”
The escort shook his head. “Our orders were to take you back to the palace.”
“Everything has changed,” Asta told him. “Flee to the palace if you want, but I am riding on to Mellerad. I may be of some help to the people there. At least I can warn them to prepare for this flight of refugees from the west.”
The guard hung his head. “If you’re riding to Mellerad, we’ll come with you. We’ve been charged by the Captain of the Guard to escort and protect you at all times.”
Asta sighed with relief. It was some irony that in riding to Mellerad, she was fulfilling Axel’s wishes—not only to use what talents she had to help the settlements but, of course, to stay away from the palace while he launched his iniquitous vote against Prince Jared. But there was nothing she could do to challenge the vote now. She could only hope that the work she and her allies—Nova, Lady Koel and Queen Elin—had already undertaken would be enough to protect Prince Jared at this crucial time. She nodded to the guard and followed him around the church to where their horses stood waiting.
THIRTY-FOUR
The Council Chamber, the Palace, Archenfield
“I TRUST THAT YOU WILL ALL BELIEVE ME WHEN I tell you that it gives me no pleasure to do what I am compelled to do next—no pleasure at all.” Axel looked grave. “I take my duties as Captain of the Guard and as Edling most seriously. I am this Council’s and this Princedom’s humble servant. But Archenfield is facing yet another threat from invasion. In order to combat this threat and make the Princedom safe not only for ourselves but for the generations to come, we must take decisive action.”
Axel could see the uncertainty in each pair of eyes watching him. It was nothing he had not anticipated.
“We have heard nothing of what Prince Jared has accomplished during these days of absence from the court and the Princedom. And, again, it gives me no pleasure to state that I expect his achievements to fall woefully short of the mark. Securing alliances that are strong enough to repel the threat from Paddenburg was always going to be a long shot. If we are to truly find a way through the current crisis, then I believe critical action is required. And that is why I am invoking a vote of no confidence in Prince Jared.”
“Have you no shame?” Queen Elin cried from the royal dais.
Axel glanced across to where Queen Elin and Prince Edvin sat side by side. Edvin looked as outraged as his mother. Then Axel noticed that his aunt and cousin were not alone on the dais.
On Elin’s other side, watching the proceedings with great interest, was his sister, Lady Koel.
Koel was not supposed to be present at meetings of the Twelve, any more than his parents were. She turned her face a fraction and her eyes met his across the room. She nodded and smiled discreetly.
“I recommend that you still your tongue, dear Aunt,” Axel replied. “It is as a courtesy that you are allowed to view these proceedings. Do not take that position for granted. It could very easily be revoked.”
The tension in the room was palpable. It had been building up all the while Jared had been away—all the maneuverings on both sides had been leading to this one moment. Now it was here, the moment of decision. The moment, Axel supposed, that his entire life had been building toward.
“Remind us.” Emelie was, refreshingly, all business. “How does this work? Are there ballot papers?”
Axel shook his head. “No papers, Emelie. No secret ballot.” He smiled briefly. “No black balls or feathers. We simply go around the table and each of you in turn will state whether you vote for or against Prince Jared.”
Axel could see the Beekeeper’s mind working overtime, trying to calculate who had the majority.
However long the
vote took to go around the table, Axel was confident that he would be the Prince by the end of the procedure. All the same, gallingly, he felt the pressure of the moment getting to him—his left hand had started shaking, and he was aware of sweat pooling between his shoulder blades. If he forged on, perhaps the others would not notice.
“The absent Prince has no vote,” Axel announced. “Neither does any member of the Twelve not here today at this table—namely the Bodyguard, the Huntsman and the Poet.” He took a breath, congratulating himself at having dispatched Asta to Galvaire. “As Edling and Captain of the Guard, I have only one vote. But before I cast it, I want to say one thing.” His eyes looked down the length of the table. “If Prince Jared had returned, I would be the first to commend him on all the considerable efforts he has made since Prince Anders’s untimely death.” He risked a glance at Queen Elin, but her eyes refused to meet his. “I know that Prince Jared was not prepared for succession, that this was not something he sought. Nonetheless, I feel he has acquitted himself to the best of his abilities, and actually beyond, in this time.”
“These words, I am sure, will be a great comfort to him when he returns to find you have displaced him as ruler,” Elin cut in, her words like ice.
Now Prince Edvin—his voice rarely heard within this chamber—added, “If you think so well of my brother, why are you challenging him?”
Axel met Edvin’s stare. “For the future of Archenfield,” he said. “The safety of the Princedom is bigger than all of us.” He returned his attention to those gathered at the Prince’s Table—those with voting rights. “And so, with great regret, I must cast the first vote against Prince Jared.” He turned to Emelie, who was seated next to him. “The vote is with you now.”
Emelie nodded. She did not rise to her feet. “I vote with Axel,” she said.
Two votes against Jared.
Hearing Nova gasp, Axel suppressed a smile. Koel had assured Axel that Emelie was with him, despite having also convinced Nova and Asta that they had secured Emelie’s vote. All eyes now moved to Jonas, who sat next to the Beekeeper.
“I vote against Prince Jared,” he said.
Axel had known from the beginning that the Woodsman was one of his chief allies, but there was still a way to go. Jared had no votes but Axel had only three. And Nova was next. They all knew how this would go.
“My vote is for Prince Jared,” Nova confirmed.
Though the Falconer’s vote came as no surprise to Axel, still he found it rankled.
“I, too, vote for Prince Jared,” Lucas said.
Axel gazed coldly at Lucas. Over on the dais, Axel saw Elin smiling at the Groom. He wondered who had talked Lucas around, even after he had attempted one of his nastiest pieces of manipulation. It was now two votes to Jared and three to Axel.
On Lucas’s other side sat Morgan. Axel glanced once again at Elin, knowing the role she had played in trying to secure the Executioner’s vote.
“I vote against Prince Jared,” Morgan said.
Queen Elin looked thunderstruck, no doubt wondering how Axel had coerced the Executioner into coming over to his side. Axel was now two votes ahead: things were where they were supposed to be, but there were three votes to go.
“Father Simeon,” Axel said. “We have come to you.”
“I am aware of that,” Simeon said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I find this to be an iniquitous business.”
“And I’m sorry you feel that way,” Axel said smoothly. “But as you know, it is not without precedent in the Book of Law.”
Simeon glared at Axel. “It’s the Book of Law,” he said, “not the Sacred Scrolls.”
“You have your rule book and I have mine,” Axel said with a smile. “Are you abstaining?”
“I don’t think any of us feel entirely comfortable about this,” Emelie interjected. “But we have all nailed our colors to the mast. Forgive me, Father—no pun intended—but why should you be any different?”
“I do not intend to abstain,” Simeon said angrily. “But, as long as I am one of the Twelve, I am certainly permitted to make my feelings known in this chamber.”
Axel had known that whoever restored to Father Simeon his sense of purpose would have secured his vote. Had Jonas done enough?
“My vote is with Prince Jared,” Father Simeon said, nodding directly at Queen Elin.
Elin acknowledged the Priest with a grateful nod of her own.
Axel glared at the Woodsman. If his failure had cost Axel this vote, there would be hell to pay.
The next vote lay with Elias.
“My vote…,” he began huskily, then stopped to clear his throat. “My vote is also with Prince Jared.”
No! Father Simeon’s foolish allegiance to Jared was one thing, but Elias’s vote was pure betrayal.
“I, perhaps more than anyone else in this room,” Elias explained, “have felt that Prince Jared was too young and ill equipped to rule Archenfield. But I have come to see that I was wrong. I was quick to underestimate what someone of Jared’s age is capable of. Sometimes youth has to take control of the Princedom for it to begin anew.” Axel rolled his eyes, but it seemed the Physician was not yet finished. “I fear that a change of ruler now would be a signal to the Princes of Paddenburg that Archenfield is growing ever more chaotic and vulnerable.”
Axel flushed with panic. “But we are vulnerable, you ancient fool!” he cried. If he lost this vote, he would make sure that Elias Peck’s decision would be his undoing.
Vera Webb cleared her throat.
Even in his upset state, Axel noticed Nova and Elin exchange a look. He was under no illusions: the Cook would be voting in Jared’s favor. He clenched his fists under the table and cursed himself for all the times he had openly bad-mouthed the woman’s cooking.
“… Prince Jared,” Vera was saying.
Axel realized that it was over. He would never be the ruler of Archenfield. In fact, it was only a matter of time before he would be officially removed from the Council. Axel had given everything to the Twelve, to the court and to the Princedom. And this was how they repaid him?
“Well,” Emelie said, her tone level, though she was smiling. “By my reckoning, Axel, that is five votes in your favor. It seems you are now our Prince.”
Axel blinked at the Beekeeper. Then he realized his error. Vera had just said she was voting against Prince Jared. Flooded with relief, he nodded at Emelie, an overwhelming sense of gratitude threatening to overcome his swiftly regained composure. “I thank those of you who voted for me for your confidence. I will not let you down.” He paused. “And to those four of you who cast your vote with Jared, please do not be fearful of any repercussions. Let me assure you that what happens in this chamber, stays here.”
“Except it doesn’t, does it?” Queen Elin rose angrily from her seat. “Because you and your clan have finally gotten what you wanted. You have taken advantage of the dire external events to wrest the throne from my son and claim it for your own.”
THIRTY-FIVE
The Council Chamber, the Palace, Archenfield
“THERE ARE,” AXEL SAID, “JUST A COUPLE MORE matters of court business that we must attend to. Starting with my replacement as Captain of the Guard.” He paused to ensure he had everyone’s full attention. “I am pleased to announce that my successor will be my longtime comrade and deputy, Elliot Nash.”
There were murmurs of assent around the table. There was nothing controversial about this choice. Nash was a respected and popular man.
Axel smiled, buoyed up by the support of the Twelve. “Now seems as good a moment as any to welcome Elliot to the Prince’s Table.” He turned to the guards at the chamber door and nodded. “If you would.”
The guards opened the doors to reveal Elliot Nash. It was like a perfectly executed game of chess, thought Nova. Axel had had all his people in the correct positions.
As Elliot walked into the Council Chamber, Axel began to clap. This was taken up by some, but not all, of the Twelve.
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Though she had no personal argument with Nash, Nova’s own hands remained carefully placed on the table.
“Welcome to the Twelve!” Axel cried warmly, drawing Elliot into a bear hug. “And now, you must take your place at the Prince’s Table.”
Elliot moved toward the empty seat. He seemed genuinely thrilled as he took his chair, and ran his fingers contemplatively across the table, where the words “Captain of the Guard” shimmered in the light.
Nova took some comfort from the fact that each member of the Twelve still possessed genuine power, even with the overthrow of Prince Jared. This power would help keep a check on Axel’s ambitions. As the vote had demonstrated, he currently possessed the support of the majority, but only just, and allegiances could shift fast. Especially with a little help. Nova felt the stirrings of a fresh campaign. It was not as if she were alone in her contempt for Axel. Far from it.
She became aware that she was being watched. She looked up and met the eyes of Lady Koel, sitting on the dais beside Queen Elin. Perhaps Lady Koel was thinking the very same thoughts, as she too absorbed the body shock of these extraordinary events—not least the Cook’s betrayal. Lady Koel had been utterly confident that they had Vera’s vote, just as Queen Elin had been that they had Morgan’s.
Nova’s eyes moved on to Queen Elin: Elin, who today had lost the tight hold she had maintained on the throne after so many years. It was strange how she already seemed to have lost some of the luster of power. It made Nova wonder if that luster came from within, or was purely something imbued on those in authority by others.
“And now, to my choice of Edling.” Axel’s voice brought Nova’s focus back to the room. Of course! She should have foreseen that, just as Axel had had his Captain of the Guard waiting in the wings, so too he would have positioned his chosen heir.
The new Prince was smiling and glancing around the table. And it was then that Nova realized that Axel’s Edling was not standing out in the corridor; he—or she—was already within the Council Chamber. Axel was going to award the honor to one of his supporters on the Twelve; indeed, perhaps this had been agreed as the price of support. Her heart racing, Nova glanced across the faces of those who had supported Axel in the vote of no confidence: the Beekeeper, the Woodsman, the Executioner, the Cook. Which of them was it going to be? Nova found their expressions impossible to read, but she could no longer doubt that the Prince’s Table was home to many skilled actors.