Chapter Ten
“Nothing?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “You’re going to do nothing?”
I stared at Lord Ashworth, who shifted uncomfortably under my gaze. The blonde woman sitting next to him was clearly made of sterner stuff, although even she had trouble meeting my eyes. I’d teleported to his estate and interrupted their meeting to give my report, then waited for him to consult with his allies... my blood boiled. The prince needed to be arrested, quickly, before the spells wore off. He knew he’d been busted. If he got free, he’d launch his planned coup as quickly as possible.
“We feel a policy of management would be more appropriate,” Lord Ashworth said. “The council will approach King Jonathon and urge him to adopt a more forgiving policy towards his son, provided his son abandons his dreams of conquest. It will be more ... practical for the long-term good of the Allied Lands ...”
I cut him off. “Prince Asshole kidnapped and murdered at least ninety people, including at least thirteen magicians,” I snapped. “It might well be more. We don’t know how long his plan was underway before we realised something was badly wrong. He also enslaved at least one magician - a relative of yours - and hired another with horrific tastes. His plan was to overthrow his father, take control of the kingdom and then invade all three of his neighbours ... a war that would have required a steady supply of super-soldiers. And you’re planning to just let him get away with it?”
“It’s political,” Lord Ashworth said. “I expect you to understand ...”
“I don’t understand,” I said. It was hard not to scream in frustration. “The prince broke a bunch of rules designed to prevent the spread of dark magic. Given time, he might even have embraced necromancy. There is no way in hell we can afford to turn a blind eye to his conduct and ... and you want to just let him get away with it? How are we going to justify cracking down on the next dark wizard, the next would-be necromancer, if we don’t stamp on this ... this monstrous prince?”
“It’s political,” Lord Ashworth repeated.
“Explain it to me,” I ordered. “Why can’t we arrest and execute him?”
“Yolanda sits between three kingdoms,” Lord Ashworth reminded me. “All three of those kingdoms have a claim on the principality, but none of them can be allowed to actually take control. If we arrest the prince, it throws the succession into doubt, which will allow the three neighbours a chance to meddle. Worse, because the prince never had a chance to put his plan into action, the White Council cannot intervene without risking a serious clash with the rest of the kingdoms. All of the kingdoms. The whole affair is, right now, an internal matter.”
I barked a harsh laugh. “The prince plotted against his own father,” I said. “He killed hundreds of his own people. And you think it’s an internal matter.”
“It is,” Lord Ashworth said. “The blunt truth is that we lose far more than we gain if we intervene openly. At best, we will damage relationships between the council and the kingdoms. At worst, we will accidentally trigger a war that will weaken the defences at the worst possible time and ...”
Magic boiled under my skin. I barely heard his next set of excuses as I fought for control. He hadn’t seen the horrors the prince had embraced. He hadn’t seen ... he hadn’t been there, when I’d sneaked into the fort and fought the prince. I couldn’t believe King Jonathon could keep his son under control. The mad scheme hadn’t been a harmless little prank. It had been a nightmare ... it might still be a nightmare, if the prince was allowed to remain alive. He’d tasted power. He wouldn’t give it up in a hurry. I doubted anything short of death would stop him.
My brother would have been more diplomatic. I really didn’t care.
I stood, cutting off a renewed stream of nonsense. I’d known Lord Ashworth was a weakling, but this ... I ground my teeth. No one would dare oppose him, not openly, if he’d pushed for the council to arrest, try and execute the prince. It had the legal authority to tackle dark wizards. The prince certainly counted. And who knew what they’d next choose to overlook for political reasons?
“Fine,” I snapped. “You can do whatever the hell you like. And you can own the outcome!”
I turned and walked out of the chamber, ignoring the serving maid who was meant to escort me to the main door. She scrambled after, her footsteps echoing on the air. I kept walking, my thoughts burning with rage. I’d seen too much to just sit back and let the prince get away with it, orders or no. Lord Ashworth and the White Council had had their chance. It was my turn to act.
The teleport spell billowed around me as soon as I was outside the wards, transporting me back to the fort. Half a day had passed, but the fort remained frozen in time. I strode through the gates and searched it from end to end, collecting all the scrolls and parchments and everything else that might be useful. Eleanor was still where I’d left her, trapped in an unmoving form. I picked her up, stuffed her in my pocket and muttered a quick funeral prayer over Mistress Layla’s body. Lord Ashworth should have done something for her, damn it. It wasn’t her fault she’d been kidnapped and enslaved. And yet ...
He’s just going to sweep everything under the rug, I thought, sourly. I could see a dozen ways to handle the politics, from finding a ‘lost’ heir to replacing the prince with a doppelganger to simply threatening the neighbouring kingdoms to make sure they kept the peace. They had to know
