Dead, I think, or else they would have sent word back. If they’d broken during interrogation, I would not be here writing right now.
It was not Latvala’s warriors that landed on our shore, but Vikings. My armies have suffered huge losses in battle, but we have persevered. Even now the last Viking ship sails back across the sea with what few Vikings remain.
Imatra cannot withstand another large invasion. We are too few now, with too many injured. Men are still coming in from the outlands, though they need training and direction to fight with any skill. A sword is a sword, in any case, and we won’t turn them away. I will continue my path as if I had never sent a cadre to end Darrion Ahtissari.
It has occurred to me to send another cadre in place of the first, yet I hesitate. What Darrion does or does not know of the attempt stays my hand.
For now, my path is recovery.
In one year, or two, the next generation will have reached warrior status and my ranks will swell with new swords.
If Darrion dares to murder more of my countrymen, however, I will wage war despite our depleted numbers.
Latvala belongs to us anyway.
* * *
Archon Rehn, King of Imatra
* * *
Inari frowned. Latvala belongs to us anyway. What did that mean? Had former Imatran kings waged war on the country and lost? Or had a former Imatran king claimed Latvalan territory for his own, only to lose it in battle? Land disputes, even in the present day, were legendary.
She scanned through several more entries, hoping for clarification.
There were mentions of famine, of a hard winter, of a surge in population. Archon was not consistent with his journal, but he wrote enough to paint a decently clear picture of life during his reign.
She did not find answers to her question, which dismayed her when she came to the last entry, with a handful of empty pages remaining.
Just as she pushed back the chair, intent on doing more thorough research in the archives, Bero entered the room with three guards at his flank.
“Your Highness, we have a situation.”
Chapter 19
“Where are you going?” Erick asked.
“You two keep on the mission. Do what we discussed,” Elias said while sending several texts. “But have the sedan leave me at the private airstrip near the helipad.”
“Are you going to fill us in?” Caspian inquired as they approached the waiting car.
Elias slid into the front seat, leaving the back for his brother and Caspian. “Not until I’m in the air.”
“So you’re about to do something you shouldn’t,” Erick said, in a tone that suggested he’d been there, done that, before.
“Yes. I’m about to cut the head off the snake.” Elias sent two more texts as the sedan sped away from the street scene. Darkness was almost upon them, the city lights beginning to glow along the sidewalks and skyline.
“Holy crap. You’re going to Weithan Isle,” Erick said with sudden enlightenment.
“What? Weithan—Elias. We have no proof yet,” Caspian said.
“No, we don’t. What if our guys can’t locate the assassin? What if the man strikes before security can act, and leaves the area? We need a backup plan. We need to make sure he doesn’t set up to try again tomorrow, or the next day. Or next week. Enough is enough.” Elias’s patience had come to an end. He disliked the feeling of being one step behind, and now he intended to put himself ten steps ahead.
Caspian cursed as he pulled out his phone. “Do I mention Valentina?”
“Not yet. Let me get there first, or Thane will call Weithan Isle in an uproar, demanding answers. Just tell them most of the truth—Erick tracked the assassin with the help of the forensic team, and when we closed in on his location, we discovered him gone as well as his weapons. All of that is no lie,” Elias said.
“Father will skin you alive,” Erick boldly predicted.
Elias could not argue that, or worry over it. “Then I will remind him of his and Leander’s escapades, once upon a time.”
“Once upon a time,” Erick said with a snort. “They’re still in the game. I’m surprised we didn’t run across dear old Dad in the assassin’s hotel room.”
Elias actually laughed, as did Caspian. Sander’s penchant for being many steps ahead of everyone else was well known in their secretive group.
“Don’t mention it to him, either. At least not yet,” Elias said. “Or he’ll show up at Weithan Isle and ruin my plans.”
“I’ll hold off as long as I can,” Erick said.
“I’ve got to say it, Elias, because you’re a good friend and because I’d hate to see you get into serious trouble over this. You’re taking an enormous risk,” Caspian said, all hint of amusement gone from his words.
Elias glanced back. “It runs in the blood.”
* * *
For the first half hour after Bero explained the situation, Inari paced the Crypt in restless circles. It had been decided that the best place for her to take cover, for now, was right there in the subterranean cavern. Bero stationed ten guards at the top of the stairwell, and another five stood near the door to the Crypt itself. It kept her away from all windows, which had, it appeared, seemed a possible way for a strike.
So she paced, hands wringing together as nerves set in, her thoughts scattered across a variety of scenarios.
Elias, Lisbet, her father and mother. Her brother. An attack on their castle in Somero, an attack on Rehn Castle in Imatra. No one knew positively where the shooter was, or where he might show up next. Only that the man and his weaponry had disappeared from his hotel room and that her father, along with Caspian’s guard, had taken defensive positions at each location.
No one would tell her where Elias was or where he was going. She only knew he was not with Caspian and Erick, who were on their way back here. Perhaps he had returned to Latvala, or gone to Somero. She could not guess his instincts and reactions, not yet.
Memories surfaced of their kiss. Of how warm and pliant his mouth had been against her own. She thought of their combined efforts in the Crypt, searching for clues, and how, with each hour that passed, she’d become more engrossed in Latvala and Imatra’s history. It spoke to the bloodline she carried, the royal duties she was expected to perform over her lifetime. She felt a connection to it all for that reason. Kings and queens, blood and battle. It was writ in their past, writ in their future. She had a deeper desire to learn more, research more, and thought she understood that aspect of Elias’s personality from a better point of view. He was a deep thinker. Introspective. Thoughtful.
And the more she learned, the more she wanted to know.
Would she get the chance? Was Elias embarking on a new, more dangerous mission?
She continued her circuits, keeping the claustrophobic sensation at bay. The suffocating feeling was trying to creep in at the edges and overwhelm her as she’d been overwhelmed beneath Kallaster Castle.
Finally, she sat at the table and pulled the journal closer. That was when she remembered she’d found nothing more of interest inside. Nothing to advance the troubles between Latvala and Imatra or clues about the crest.
She returned to the bookcase and picked up where she left off. The intensive search would, she hoped, produce something as interesting and consuming as the journal inside the box.
Anything to keep her mind off assassins and the trouble Elias might be getting into on her behalf.
Chapter 20
Everything happened in quick succession: the private jet from Latvala landed, took on its passenger, and got airborne shortly after. Elias made all the connections he needed to on his end and with Weithan Isle, procuring an official invitation that allowed him to land his plane and have an escort waiting to drive him to the castle.
En route, he showered, changed, and shaved. He chose a sharp suit with navy pinstripes, a thin navy tie, and platinum cuff links.
Jeremiah was aboard, having flown out of Latvala with the aircra
ft, and he sought the man’s company in the main cabin to lay out his plans.
“Going all in, I see,” Jeremiah said. Rather than a suit and tie, Jeremiah wore dark, easy to move in clothing.
“All in,” Elias agreed. He approached the table situated before a long sofa of white where Jer had set up maps, photos, and other papers with details Elias had asked for. He slid onto the cushion and pulled a map of Weithan Isle closer.
“All right. Here are the best ways on and off the island,” Jeremiah said. He pointed to four separate points, three of which happened to be on the east side. “There are docks here where there is a boat already waiting, should you need to leave the island that way. It’s less than an hour to the Dalmatian coast, where we’ve got people waiting, just in case. There’s a private airstrip, which is where we’ll be landing, so of course that’s the first priority.”
Elias studied the marked sections, making note of main roads in and out. He’d been blessed with a good memory, and would not forget the directions once he was on site.
“There’s a helipad here, with three helicopters stationed there at last check. The hard part would be convincing one of the pilots to fly you to Croatia. And last, there’s another dock at the south end, but it’ll take longer to get there from the castle, and it’s a bit riskier to navigate the waters around the island. More rocky outcroppings. You’d have to rely on a local to get you out of there.” Jeremiah leaned back and draped an arm across the back of the sofa. “Those are all emergency contingencies, of course. For some reason, I don’t think you’ll need them.”
“We,” Elias corrected. “We won’t need them.”
“Wait, I’m coming, too?”
“Yes.” Elias glanced across to Jeremiah. “I need you to find out where Valentina is while I’m playing up the princely visit with the officials. I’ll have to spend an hour or two with Severian, or whoever they set me up with, and then, after they show me my suite, I want to talk with Valentina.”
“Well, won’t that be a crappy task,” Jeremiah said with a laugh. “I get to skulk around while you’re taking tea and crumpets.”
Elias laughed. “If you get caught in a bad spot, I’ll do my best to get you out of it.”
Jeremiah snorted. “The things I do for friendship. All right. I’m on it.”
“You love every second of it. I would have heard nothing but complaints for a year if I hadn’t brought you along, and you know it.” Elias called his friend out on his feigned affront then got back to business. “I suspect Valentina won’t be happy to see me, considering I’m Sander’s son, and especially when she realizes what I’m there for. So keep your eyes and ears open. Be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.”
“I still don’t know that it’s wise to accuse her without proof,” Jeremiah said. He sounded and looked concerned.
“I won’t have to show proof. If everything works out right, she’s going to confess.”
“You’re on their turf, remember. Even if she does admit to it, she could have you detained or any other atrocity. I wouldn’t put it past her.”
“I wouldn’t either,” Elias said, pulling over a blueprint of the castle. “It’ll come down to who is better at bluffing, and whether or not she wants her crime to come to light.”
“What if she takes offense, sends an assassin after you next time?” Jeremiah asked.
“She won’t, unless she wants her actions splashed all over the front page of every news site known to mankind.”
* * *
Elias stood in the foyer of Novak Castle and adjusted the cuff link on his coat. The flight had continued unhindered after his conversation with Jeremiah, and had landed in good time on the private airstrip that they would hopefully be flying back out of in a few hours’ time. He did not plan to stay longer than he had to.
The castle was as lavish as he’d expected it to be, with a more medieval air that reminded him somewhat of Kallaster Castle back home. Wood beams interspersed with heavy stone to create an intricate ceiling, which rose high above the foyer and sported a large chandelier that threw light in all directions. Grand portraits of life on Weithan Isle dominated the entrance, as well as woven tapestries that hung from wooden rods tipped in gold. Several archways led to different areas, and a staircase, narrower than he expected it to be, circled upward into higher floors.
The butler, who had recently shown them inside, directed staff members to whisk away Elias and Jeremiah’s luggage, as would be expected for visiting nobility. Elias hadn’t packed anything worthwhile in his suitcase except a few old rags in case he had to leave Weithan Isle in a hurry. He paid little attention to the minute details of running the castle, and waited patiently for his host to show. Prince Severian, friend to his father, was the man Elias expected to see.
When Wolfe Novak entered through an archway, dressed immaculately in a black-on-black suit and polished shoes, Elias couldn’t have been more surprised.
“Holy shit,” Jeremiah whispered.
So this was the man Inari had been involved with. Elias had never officially met Wolfe in person, hadn’t come face-to-face or spoken with him at galas or royal gatherings. Wolfe’s bastard status was well known, and worked both for and against him: many high-titled royals wanted nothing to do with him, and lesser-titled ones craved his presence at their parties. Wolfe had a reputation for livening up any event he happened to attend.
Elias took in all the pertinent details of Wolfe in one brief sweep. About the same height as himself at six feet four, black hair worn neck length, and striking green eyes. Wolfe seemed to be in excellent shape, filling out his suit in much the same way he himself did.
The man would make a worthy adversary.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Prince Elias Ahtissari, come to call. To what do we owe the pleasure?” Wolfe asked, striding right up before Elias and extending a hand.
Elias grasped Wolfe’s hand and shook. It didn’t matter to him that Wolfe was a bastard son, it mattered that he show respect in another royal household.
“Prince Wolfe Novak, my pleasure.” Elias pocketed his hand and forwent the question to instead introduce Jeremiah. “This is Jeremiah Morgan.”
Wolfe finally acknowledged Jeremiah and, after a moment of consideration, extended his hand again. The men exchanged a handshake.
“Pleasure,” Jeremiah drawled.
Elias knew by Jeremiah’s droll tone that he was less than impressed. Ah, the semantics of royal life when you weren’t of royal blood. Poor Jer.
“I’m here to see your uncle, Severian. We have some business to discuss,” Elias said, getting back to the reason for his visit.
“Pity. I would have enjoyed a little time to discuss business of our own,” Wolfe said. “You should come find me when you’re done.”
Elias was intrigued over Wolfe’s mention of business. What could they possibly have to discuss? He also wondered what Wolfe would think if he knew his own mother was plotting the death of the woman he loved.
“I’ll see how much time I have. This is a short trip,” Elias replied, leaving his options open.
“There you are. Prince Elias, good of you to visit Weithan Isle,” Severian said from the archway. He strode across the stone floor, boots clicking with every step.
It had been some time since Elias had seen Severian in person. The man was aging well, though Elias detected some sort of inner exhaustion lurking around Severian’s eyes that suggested the whispers of Weithan Isle’s money troubles were not all rumors.
He shook Severian’s hand. “Thank you for the warm welcome. I know it has been some time since Weithan Isle and Latvala have discussed trade, but I think we should explore a few avenues of import and export, if you’re willing.”
“Absolutely. This way.” Severian nodded to Wolfe and Jeremiah.
Elias shot Wolfe a cordial smile and passed a specific look to Jer. Find Valentina.
Moments later, Elias found himself behind closed doors, ready to begin negotiations that woul
d likely never come to pass.
His focus was not to mend the rift between countries, but to stop Valentina from murdering the future queen of Somero.
Chapter 21
Elias left the conference room more conflicted than when he’d gone in. His ultimate goal had not changed, but he found himself wishing there was some way Weithan Isle and Latvala could overcome their differences.
While Sander reigned—and Elias knew it would be a long, long time before his father relinquished the throne—there seemed no good way to make a productive relationship. Severian had expressed his regret over his sister’s actions more than once, and had looked quite tired when he discussed his failing friendship with Sander.
Weithan Isle was in trouble, as Elias had heard and guessed, and trade between the two countries would go a long way in helping the Novak empire to recover.
He had not expected to be so moved by Severian’s sincerity and his plight.
A grandfather clock struck the hour of two, and while it was much later than Elias had hoped, it would not deter him from his mission.
In the middle of the night, he should have the element of surprise.
Elias found Jeremiah waiting in the library off the foyer, pacing with his head lolled back, eyes on the ceiling.
“For God’s sake, man. There you are. I thought you’d fallen asleep in there or something,” Jeremiah said once he’d detected Elias’s footsteps.
“The talk went longer than I expected. Where is she?” Elias asked.
“She’s moved three times. I just got back here five minutes ago, so she should still be in the east solarium. Be warned, Elias. She’s been drinking and looks pretty rough.”
Elias nodded and departed the library. He bypassed two staff members on his way through the long hallways, but no one dared stop him. Word of his conversation with Severian would be common knowledge with the employees, and he was counting on their hesitation to stop and question a visiting prince.
Latvala Royals: Bloodlines Page 13