“You didn’t steal the silver or anything, did you, Royce?” Hadrian asked.
“I would bet it has more to do with your flirting with Lenare this afternoon and threatening Mauvin just to show off,” Royce retorted.
“That was your fault,” Hadrian said, jabbing his finger at him.
“It’s nothing like that,” Fanen said, interrupting them. “The princess Arista is going to be executed for treason tomorrow morning!”
Once, long ago, the great hall of Drondil Fields had been the site of the first court of Melengar. It was there that King Tolin had drafted and signed the Drondil Charter, officially bringing the kingdom into existence. Now, old and faded, the parchment was mounted on one wall in a place of honor. Around it, massive burgundy drapes hung, tied back by gold cords with silken tassels. Today the hall served as the council chambers of Count Pickering; Royce and Hadrian hesitantly entered the hall.
At a long table in the center of the room sat a dozen men dressed in the finery of nobles. Hadrian recognized most of the men and could make some good guesses at the identities of those he did not know. There were earls, barons, sheriffs, and marshals; the leadership of eastern Melengar sat assembled before them. At the head of the table was Alric, and at his right was Count Pickering. Standing behind the count was Mauvin, and as Hadrian and Royce entered, Fanen took up position next to his brother. Alric was dressed in fine clothes, no doubt borrowed from one of the Pickerings. Less than a day had passed since Hadrian had last seen the prince, but Alric looked much older than he remembered.
“Have you told them why they were summoned?” Count Pickering asked his son.
“I told them the princess was to be executed,” Fanen replied. “Nothing more.”
“I’ve been summoned by Archduke Percy Braga,” Count Pickering explained, holding up the dispatch, “to report to Essendon Castle as witness for the immediate trial of Princess Arista on the grounds of witchcraft, high treason, and murder. He has accused her of killing not only Amrath but also Alric.” He dropped the dispatch on the table and slammed his hand down on it in disgust. “The blackguard means to have the kingdom for his own!”
“It’s worse than I feared.” Alric summarized for the thieves: “My uncle planned to kill me and my father and then blame both murders on Arista. He will execute her and take the kingdom for himself. No one will be the wiser. He’ll fool everyone into thinking he is the great defender of the realm. I’m sure his plan will work. Even I was suspecting her only a few days ago.”
“It’s true. It has long been rumored that Arista has dabbled in the arcane arts,” Pickering confirmed. “Braga will have no trouble finding her guilty. People are afraid of what they don’t understand. The thought of a woman with magical powers is terrifying to old men in comfortable positions. Even without the fear of witchery, most nobles are uncomfortable with the thought of a woman monarch. The verdict will be assured. Her sentence will be handed down quickly.”
“But if the prince was to arrive,” Baron Enild said, “and show he’s alive, then—”
“That’s exactly what Braga wants,” Sir Ecton declared. “He can’t find Alric. He’s searched for days and couldn’t locate him. He wants to draw him out before Alric has a chance to gather an army against him. He’s counting on the prince’s youth and lack of experience. He wants to manipulate the prince to react with emotion instead of reason. If he can’t find Alric, he will lure the prince to him.”
“Less than half our forces have mustered so far,” Pickering grumbled despairingly. He walked to the great map of Melengar, which hung opposite the ancient charter, and slapped the western half of the map. “Our most powerful knights are the farthest from here, and because they have the most men to rally, it will take them longer to report. I don’t expect them for another eight hours, maybe as long as sixteen.
“Even if we resign ourselves to employing only Galilin’s forces, the earliest we could be ready to attack wouldn’t be until tomorrow evening. By then Arista will be dead. I could march with what troops I have, leaving orders for the others to follow, but doing so would risk the whole army by dividing our forces. We cannot jeopardize the realm for the sake of one woman, even though she is the princess.”
“Judging from the mercenaries we encountered at the inn,” Alric told them, “I suspect the archduke anticipates an assault and has strengthened his forces with purchased arms loyal only to him.”