Igniting Darkness (His Fair Assassin 5)
“That may be so, but it doesn’t explain why he has hundreds of his troops encamped within miles of each of the queen’s advisors’ holdings.” Beast speaks again, his eyes fixed on Cassel.
Cassel takes a step toward him. “Perhaps he has reason to believe they hold conflicting loyalties. After all, the truce was sudden, the marriage recent. It is not unwise to ensure everyone’s loyalty.”
“Those men, those most honorable men,” the queen says, “witnessed the contract themselves. They would never betray me or their honor in such a manner.”
“But, Your Majesty,” the regent coos. “Can you truly be so very certain of your advisors?” She may as well have picked up a knife and stabbed the queen in the heart with it.
“You mean the very men and women you bribed with France’s gold? No, I do not trust those people anymore. They are your creatures now.”
The king glowers at his sister, reminded of the dishonorable victory she secured in his name. But the regent is an expert in diversion tactics. “Your Majesty, this is a waste of time and effort. The captain is making this up to cover for his depraved abduction of those girls.”
I can stand it no more. I glance first to the queen, who gives an imperceptible nod, then at Beast—to ask for permission or give warning—but his burning gaze is fixed on General Cassel.
“What if both are true?” I say.
All eyes turn toward me, but it is Beast’s that I feel the most. “Your Majesty, it is true that Captain Waroch took the girls—not to abduct them, but to get them to safety.”
At the name Waroch, General Cassel takes another step toward Beast and yanks the peasant hood from his head. His nostrils flare, the recognition instantaneous. “Who are you?”
“Benebic de Waroch,” Beast says softly. Then, softer still, “Your judgment day.”
“Your Majesty,” I say in desperation. “This man, Sir Waroch, would have no reason to harm those girls. Indeed, one of them was his own sister’s daughter. He simply went searching for them. And once he found them, he took them to safety.”
“Where did you take them?” Cassel demands.
“Where they will be safe.”
“How dare you suggest the king cannot be trusted.”
“It is not the king I am concerned with. As I understand it, the regent is working closely with Pierre d’Albret.”
The regent steps toward Beast. “The girls are his property.”
Beast does not back down. “They are not safe in his custody.”
“And you think we will believe they are safe in yours?” Cassel’s eyes sweep over him, taking in every muscle, every scar, every bit of ugliness that adorns Beast’s face.
Beast does not look away. “In this case, the apple has fallen far from the tree. I do not rape women. Especially not little—”
General Cassel strikes him across the mouth, the loud crack halting his words as Beast’s head snaps back. A lesser man would have been felled like a tree, but Beast simply shakes it off and stares silently at the general, blood pouring from his nose and mouth.
The king glances briefly at the queen’s pale hand on his arm, then says, “Enough, General. Captain Waroch, explain this accusation.”
His eyes never leaving the general, Beast begins. “General Cassel raped my mother during the War of the Public Good. He occupied the holding, then raped her, using her for the entire length of his stay—a fortnight—then rode away leaving her weeping and praying for death. God did not grant her wish. He gave her me instead.”
Silence permeates the chamber. Shaken, the king looks to the general. “Is this true?”
General Cassel starts to deny it, but the king cuts him off. “Do not lie to me. All the proof I need is in the face of the man who stands next to you.”
Cassel shrugs his heavy shoulders. “It was war, sire. It was twenty-four years ago, and I was young. The fighting heated my blood. It was a youthful indiscretion. I would never do anything so dishonorable now. Do we all not temper and mellow with age?”
The king studies him, his disgust plain on his face. But he is torn as well, eager to accept the justification the general has offered that will allow him to dismiss the entire abhorrent situation. That will allow him to avoid having to examine his own choice of advisors. He nods briefly. When he speaks to Beast, his voice less cold and more polite.
“I am sorry for the injustices suffered by your mother. As you can see, General Cassel is remorseful and has given his word that it did not happen again. Now I will ask you to tell us where the girls are so we may fetch them.”
“No, Your Majesty. Not until I have ensured they will not be returned to their brother.”
The king’s hands grasp the arms of his chair. “They belong to him.”
“Perhaps they should not.”
Any sympathy the king felt toward Beast disappears. “Then you leave me no choice but to imprison you until you trust us with this information.”
Cassel steps forward, eyes gleaming. “I will get the truth from him.”
“No!” The king’s voice rings out. “No coercion. I feel certain Sir Waroch will come to trust us soon enough.”
The general’s rationale has not worked as well as he’d hoped, for there is still faint revulsion in the king’s eyes as he looks at Cassel. It is the faintest spark of hope in an otherwise disastrous meeting.
Chapter 60
Genevieve
As the meeting breaks up, I slip out of the audience chamber and head back to my room. Sybella and the queen have enough disasters to wrestle with at the moment. They do not need my additional problem added to their load. I will find a solution myself.
Somehow.
But answers remain elusive, and I ache with the sense of an impending disaster like old Solange’s joints used to ache before a storm.
I let myself into my room, relieved there are no longer guards to watch my every step. As I move to shut the door behind me, a hand reaches out to stop it.
“You’re back.” Sybella’s eyes are unreadable as they search my face.
“I didn’t realize you knew I had left.” She holds the note to the king in her hand. “Have you read it?”
“No, I’ve not had time. It has been a most eventful morning.” Her entire face is drawn tight, her eyes clouded with agitation.
“I left one for you as well. It’s under the mattress.”
She fully enters the room and closes the door behind her. “Where were you going?”
“The letter explains it.”
She folds her arms. “Well, you are here now, so why don’t you explain it and save me the trouble of heaving your furniture around.”
When I hesitate, she says, “Am I to assume you still want this delivered to the king?”
“No!” I reach to snag it from her, but as fast and unexpected as I am, she is faster. We stare at each other a long moment. “You don’t have time for this,” I tell her. “Surely Beast is a higher priority.”
Her casual shrug is one of the more artful lies I have ever seen told, as I know what she must be feeling right now. “He is not going anywhere. And I will not be able to sneak in to see him until they have gotten him properly settled in whatever section of the dungeon they choose.” A note of bleakness creeps into her voice. “So actually, this is a welcome distraction.”
“You won’t think so for long,” I mutter.
“Come.” She sits on the edge of the bed and pats the space beside her. “Tell me what has happened.”
“The regent approached me last night. Apparently when she came upon you and me talking just before we left Plessis, she heard our entire conversation.”
Sybella closes her eyes. “Of course she did. And of course she would hold such a card close until it could do the most damage.”
“It was foolish of me to think otherwise. Anyway, she has given me an ultimatum. I must do as she asks or she will expose not just me to the council, but the king’s knowledge of what I’ve done and who I am. She will us
e it to undermine his ability to rule and force him to give back some of the power she had as regent.”
Sybella swears colorfully. “What does she want in exchange?” She speaks softly, and I cannot tell if it is in sympathy or carefully banked anger.
“You. She wants me to ensure the king hands you over to Pierre’s custody.”
Her eyes widen in surprise. “I did not realize I had gotten quite so deeply under her skin,” she murmurs.
“And if that does not work, she suggests I kill you. Either way, you must be Pierre’s by the end of the week or she will expose the king.”
“When did she speak to you?”
“Late last night. After midnight. Why?”
She begins tapping the note on her chin. “Because Pierre did not appear at the hearing this morning. When the king sent someone to check, it was discovered that he and his party had left before dawn. It was as much a surprise to the regent as any of us.”
“He is gone?”
She nods, still thinking.