by Laura R Cole
CHAPTER 28
A knock sounded at the door, and Jezebel called out permission for the person to enter. Devon slipped through the entrance, wincing slightly as his side bumped up against the door frame, and she greeted him with a smile. “Ah, Devon. Do you come bearing news?”
“Indeed, my lady – Councilor-” he affirmed. “I have news about the King.”
Jezebel sat forward excitedly. “Yes?”
“Well, it was very difficult to dig up anything on his past, and so far it doesn't seem to be anything particularly worthwhile. I figured that you'd want to know everything you could about him, no matter how small the detail seems to me. With your intellect you may see more into it.” Jezebel smiled more broadly at this compliment, and nodded for him to go on. “Apparently, the King was raised by the late Baron Asheron who was the second cousin twice removed of our late King Edward. The Baron was instrumental in bringing Edward’s parents’ murderers to justice which gained him a large amount of support within the royal family. Nathair’s mother is a woman of low enough birth that I could find no record of her before the marriage, who somehow found herself into the baron's household, and then made herself his wife after his lady died. That, I suppose,” he inserted, “could make some men embarrassed enough to not want the information leaked, but since she was given honorary lady’s status by the baron, then again it may not. He grew up in the backwoods and was taught several ways of fighting. When he showed some skill at magic, he was sent to be trained in the rudimentary uses. There is no record of him having attended any of the additional classes that are offered. His mother died when he was in his teens – the Baron seemed to have some bad luck with women – and as he grew older, he joined his father's guard and that is where he gained his name in the battlefield, fighting off the bandits to the west. All in all, he has a pretty clean record of what we've been able to uncover so far, though there are quite large portions of his life that I have been unable to account for. I shall continue my work as ever, and report back to you accordingly, my lady. As for the mission your pets are on, my men found the remains of three of the hounds, confirming your impression, but have had no word on the last and no further sign of the renegades.” He gave her a stiff bow and waited for her to dismiss him.
Jezebel nodded slowly, chewing on this new information for a moment. “Thank you, Devon. I trust that the remains were properly disposed of?” Devon gave her a nod and she continued, “Please do see if you can't try and reconstruct the rest of the King's life for me. Excellent work thus far, and I look forward to your report that the final hound has returned victoriously.”
She dismissed him with a wave, and he departed, leaving her to fetch her driver to take her to the palace. She thought it odd that the King had only been trained in the rudimentary uses of magic when he had demonstrated far more power than that statement would imply. It sounded as though his family had not had the money to send him to the optional additional training. But if they didn't, then how did he master its use? For he obviously has. She made a mental note that the King may be hiding more than they realized if he so modestly presented his powers that were, in reality, much more dangerous than he made them seem. She almost immediately admonished herself, however, as of course the King was an expert in subversion. He had, after all, maneuvered himself into a position of great power both in the Order and in the kingdom. A position which Jezebel planned to soon take from him as her own.
Back in her suite at the palace, Jezebel was surprised to see a letter with her father's seal waiting for her. She picked it up and glared at it for a moment before sliding a nail through the wax, and unfolding the contents. It was a lengthy letter, one that got her more and more inflamed the more she read of it.
He started off pleasant enough, congratulating her once more on her new position. But then went on to berate the seat, saying that she would be foolish to believe that having a seat on the Council would give her any real power. It implied that there was much more going on here than she could possibly hope to even understand. Basically it says I'm too stupid to follow the intrigues going on, and therefore I should just do whatever he tells me to in the notes that I'll soon be receiving regularly and by referencing the files he gave me.
She ripped the note into a thousand tiny pieces and tossed it into the air, igniting it mid-fall with the power. It gave her a small tug and she felt momentarily weak after doing so. She felt a flash of annoyance. She had been surprised to learn that oftentimes the use of smaller amounts of the power was actually more draining when used for things that required detail. So, for example, lighting each torn piece could potentially be more draining than, say, a huge fireball hurled out, which took pure power but very little focus on detail. How can Father still think that he can control me? Can't he tell that his bond over me has been broken?
She had thought that once she gained the seat that he would see just how powerful she was, but not only had he not lost that smug smile of superiority, but he had even had the gall to try and use her with magic. Jezebel found it displeasing that there was an aspect of blood-magic that could be used against her without her knowledge simply because she and her father shared ties of kinship.
Jezebel snorted her irritation and shook herself, trying to brush off the effect of the letter. The King had said that he would be punished; she simply must be patient and see what he had in mind. She walked to the window and looked out over the maze of gardens beneath her balcony. It wasn’t long before she returned to her desk, however, to write to Devon. Patience was not her strong suit, and she decided that perhaps she’d set Devon to the task of arranging a little something for her father in the meantime as well.
She opened the door to have one of the servants go and fetch Devon from the manor for her, and found that he was already on his way towards her, coming down the hallway looking excited. She held the door to the suite open for him and he squeezed by. “I have news of the renegades,” he told her without preamble as soon as the door was safely closed.
“What is it?”
“A guardsman in Avonmora filled out a complaint against a superior officer for letting two people go who matched the description that we had sent out. It sounds like the older man was due to be off-duty and dismissed the younger officer's assertion that they should detain the couple longer.” Jezebel’s eyes flashed with anger at the use of the word 'couple', and Devon seemed to sense her mood change as he did not pause to give her a chance to act upon it. “They very well could be the two traitors we are looking for. It is very near the town where the travelers were spotted being followed by the hounds.”
Jezebel took a deep breath. “That would mean, however, that the hound has thus far failed.” She had thought as much. After the initial backlash of power, no amount of questing would allow her to connect with the last beast. She should have felt something by now if it had caught up to them, either its death or its victory. “How dare that officer ignore a direct order to detain and question all matching the description, just so he wouldn't have to deal with it.” She sighed irritably. “The whole world is against me. Do we have any idea where they are headed?”
“Happily yes,” Devon acknowledged. “A young man happened to be paying them attention as he found the woman very-” he stopped himself short from using whatever word he had originally planned on and put in instead, “-odd, and he happened to hear them talking about the town called Dunlop.”
Jezebel pursed her lips and thought a moment. “Dunlop? What an absurd name. Where is this town?”
“It is in the North Country, Councilor. It is both the town nearest the Shadowlands, and near where the King is from.”
“I will have to think about this,” she told Devon. “In the meantime, I believe I need to set up a meeting with the other Councilors. Can you arrange that for me?”
“Anything for you, my lady,” he said bowing, and he showed himself out.
This meeting,
Jezebel found herself seated and waiting before any of the other Council members arrived. They slowly filed in and took their seats, and several of them gave her looks she couldn't quite place. The last to arrive clarified it for her, however, as he presumptuously rose to speak before her saying, “Lady Jezebel, we are scheduled to have a meeting in three days time, and some of us,” he stressed these words as if trying to brazenly imply that she was not included in this group, “have more important things to do than be called to another of these so-called emergency meetings for yet one more of your trivial matters that really should just wait until we are scheduled to convene.”
Jezebel refused to be derailed, and took his ignorant patronizing in stride. The opinions of lesser people meant nothing to her, and he was about to get a swift kick in his pride anyway. She gave him an amicable smile and said silver-toned, “I just thought that you all would want to know right away that I spoke with the King directly, and he has expressed his wish that I be the speaker for this Council. He is also further elevating my status by giving it a new title of 'First Advisor'. This makes all of you under my direct command and me only answerable to the King himself.”
The man had sat heavily in his seat and all the Councilors were staring at her, some with completely undignified slack-jawed expressions. “But,” one sputtered out, “you can't do that! The whole point of the Council is to keep the balance in check!” The man's voice cracked as it rose hysterically in pitch.
She laughed churlishly at him and beamed. “The King can do anything he wants. And now, so can I. And what I want you all to do right now is gather your personal guard and select the most talented of the bunch to send after the two renegades. It is imperative that they be punished for their betrayal and that an example be made of them for others who would think to betray their country.”
“Others who might betray the country or betray you,” asked the man who had first spoken.
“Examples will have to be made,” she repeated and gave him a hateful stare until he paled and looked away uncomfortably. She dismissed them after giving more detailed orders of what she wanted done, and then took a deep breath, admiring her surroundings. Things were going quite nicely her way.