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{CoRW: Book 3} Chapter 95 {Part Two}: An Assembly of Allies *Rough Draft*
🕑 Added 2022-07-11 16:19:45 +0000 UTC♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝
Chapter 95 {Part Two}: An Assembly of Allies
Carina and Beaumont exchanged glances while the spymaster turned and motioned to one of the hooded men behind her. The bodyguard responded with a curt nod before he strode across the garden in the direction of the ominous iron gate that led to the Dowager’s destroyed garden.
Carina's suspicions about the unpredictable spymaster rekindled as she watched the mercenary open the gate, which should have been locked, and disappear inside. ‘I don’t understand. What end goal is Maylea pursuing that requires her to befriend the Pope. She has no reason to risk her life on behalf of the Church or the Covens, and she has no ties to Lafeara’s nobles or royal court either. So—how did she obtain a key to the Dowager’s garden? If Jericho manages to get his hands on even one of the aconitum plants—he won’t need a holy relic.’
With this uncertainty in mind, the Duchess sent the invisible tendrils of her cold magic rippling through the fog that still clung to the frost-covered garden. Just beyond the iron gate, the hazy image of a burned garden appeared in Carina’s mind. She found Maylea’s mercenary speaking with two men who turned to follow the hooded bodyguard back towards the iron gate. As the first of these two figures tread upon the frost-covered ground outside the Dowager’s garden, the magic barrier beneath instantly detected the presence of powerful magic in both.
The familiar currents of air magic identified Lord Percy just before he came into view. Carina wasn’t sure if she was surprised or relieved to find the Earl among Maylea’s perceived allies. The Duchess frowned as her attention shifted to the nobleman who followed behind the Earl. His features filled her with a strange sensation of deja vu that tickled against Krisi’s memories. The pureblood had shoulder-length white hair and possessed a hereditary pair of ice-blue eyes that followed the Duchess’s tendrils of magic which coiled at a safe distance.
‘If he can see my magic, then he must be at least a pure-blood. How curious that I should stumble upon another ice witch within days of stripping Octavia of her magic.’
“I thought your Grace would be waiting for me in the secret garden,” Percy greeted with a note of caution as his winter-grey eyes moved restlessly between Maylea and Beaumont. “This location is a bit more exposed than I would like, given we are inside the royal palace.”
“Forgive my deception, Lord Percy, but it was I, not the Duchess, who invited you here,” Maylea explained as she rose from her chair to greet the nobleman beside the stunned Earl. “Viscount Linby. I am relieved to see you could make it.”
“Spymaster,” the Viscount replied with what looked like a quick smile of reassurance to Lord Percy. “There is no cause for alarm Earl Hawthorne. Madam Maylea is a secret member of our Frost Coven. We’ve made great use of her skills and intelligence over the years while maintaining a discrete connection to the outside world, searching for signs of our long-awaited Queen.”
Carina arched a brow in quiet surprise as the nobleman stepped forward to bow before her.
“Your Majesty—it is an honor to stand in your glorious presence once more.”
“You—know me, Sir?” The Duchess shifted her narrowed gaze from Linby’s bowed head to the Spymaster and Earl on either side.
Percy appeared to recover as he quickly cleared his throat. “Your Grace. May I present Viscount Dax Linby, a distant relative to the late Dowager Octavia Valda and a member of the last remaining coven of ice witches.”
“A very distant, poorly tolerated relationship, your Majesty,” Linby corrected with a faintly bitter smile as he straightened, “Formed from necessity and old alliance rather than shared blood.”
“Ever since the Dowager married into the Lafearian royal family, Lord Linby has led what remains of the Frost Coven, which possesses some of the oldest bloodlines who served your family in the past, Lady Kirsi.”
‘An ice witch coven?’ Carina couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of wonder at this unexpected revelation. Until now, she had believed witches of her species to be nearly extinct. “And just how many members does the Frost Coven hold, Lord Linby?”
The Viscount’s countenance darkened briefly before he replied in a solemn tone. “Our numbers have dwindled greatly since your last campaign, your Majesty. Only a handful of elders remain who served the last Isbrand King.”
Carina fell silent as a flicker of Kirsi’s memories surfaced, revealing a much younger version of the Viscount in full Bastiallano uniform, standing beside the Scarlet Witch amid the carnage of battle.
“Excluding all those whose bloodline is too weak to count as witches,” Linby continued, pensively drawing his brows together. “I would say we number less than two hundred. However, a third of that number lies in deep hibernation awaiting Viktor’s resolution and your glorious return.”
“Hibernation?” The pain of hearing Viktor’s name sharped her inflection of the word.
“It—is a dreamless state of existence which places a witch upon the threshold of life and death. A method of sustainment passed down through the elders,” Linby explained with a faint frown. “Because our inherent immortality requires a constant infusion of magic to preserve both youth and viability of life, most of the elders have chosen to sleep. This allows what little of Viktor’s power that remains to flow into the younger generation of purebloods who require less of it, such as myself.”
‘Younger generation?’ The Duchess arched a brow but resisted the temptation to ask the Viscount his age.
Another flash of deja vu filled Carina’s memories, revealing a chamber similar to the underground rooms of Antharaticus, where Kirsi passed between rows of frozen caskets that contained frail witches with pale white hair dressed in full armor. ‘No wonder the Viscount looked confused. It was Kirsi who taught the elders this method.’
“Then the number of witches capable of fighting at Kirsi’s side stands at what? Above or below a mere hundred?” Beaumont interjected with a hint of impatience.
‘Why is he so annoyed? A hundred ice witches are certainly better than none.’
Linby’s pale brows furrowed pensively as he met the knight captain’s gaze. “What is a Royal Knight doing here, and why am I being pestered with questions by a mortal king’s dog?”
“Captain Beaumont is a trusted acquaintance who has been of great assistance to me,” Carina replied swiftly with a look that cowed the Viscount into an apologetic bow.
“Forgive my impudence, your Majesty,” Linby murmured, holding his bow until the Duchess gestured impatiently for him to rise. “At Earl Hawthrone’s urging, I have prepared one-hundred and twenty of the coven’s ice witches. They stand a few hours from the Capital awaiting your Majesty’s command.”
Carina’s eyes widened subtly as she glanced between Linby and Percy. ‘I can’t help but wonder what promises Percy made to sway the Frost Coven to his side, but it stands to reason that they must be a part of his original plan to seize Lafeara’s throne.’
“Your Majesty,” Linby pressed earnestly as he raised a gloved hand to the silver-white wolf embroidered into his jacket lapel. “If you wish it, we can attack the cathedral tonight. I will personally ripe out the Pope’s heart and present it to you as vengeance for Prince Basilius's murder.”
‘Ahh, I had almost forgotten that the Pope hunted down Maura’s biological father.’ The Duchess kept her expression neutral as she studied the Viscount. ‘Blood relation or not, Viktor is the only father figure I will recognize. Still, I suppose I should settle that score on Maura’s behalf.’
“I seem to recall that the Frost Coven did not come to Kirsi’s aid when last she called upon them,” Carina remarked as she assessed the pureblood before her critically. “So–why would I rely upon them now?”
“Forgive me, your Majesty, but the Coven was under the leadership of a different witch then,” Linby protested, his voice trembling with quiet rage. “A traitor swayed by Arachne’s poisoned words.”
A wave of long-seeded anger that was not her own set Carina’s teeth on edge at the very mention of the Water Goddess. More than the Pope, she wished she could punish Arachne, who was responsible for Viktor’s suffering and the plague that now burned its way through Lafeara.
“In any event, the traitor and their supporters met their end when the oaths they swore to your Majesty stripped them of their magic. The Frost Coven did our part by putting their withered husks to the sword, shattering their remains into a thousand pieces, and burying their ashes beneath the muck of a pigsty. Even their family names were stripped from our coven’s history.”
‘Seems rather brutal if not appropriate,’ Carina mused as she turned to gaze at the royal palaces beyond the garden hedges.
‘The oath he’s referring to must be exceptionally strong if it has lasted through Kirsi’s many lifetimes. With things as they are, I could use whatever aid Linby and his coven can give. But first, I must ensure their loyalty is to me and not Lord Percy’s ambitions.’
The Viscount dropped his hand from the stitched wolf emblem as the Duchess stepped towards him with her gloved hand extended.
“If you wish to return to my service, then you know what is required, Viscount Dax Linby.”
The Viscount blinked in surprise but accepted her hand all the same. He quickly bowed his forehead against the Duchess’s glove and knelt gracefully at her feet. “I have never wavered from my pledge to your Majesty, but if you require that I repeat the sacred oath of loyalty as leader of your coven, then I am happy to do so.”
A prickle of magic wound itself down through Carina’s arm and fingers as Linby repeated his promise to the Scarlet Witch.
“I, Dax Linby, swear upon the magic in my veins and the honor of my family name to serve and obey Kirsi Isbrand, the First and Last of the Isbrand Queens. I shall become her sword and shield in times of peace and war. Her enemies I claim as my own, whether they be mortal kings, apostates of the church, Ramiel’s accursed Saint, or the gods themselves. May Viktor strike me dead should I desert my Queen. May the gods themselves ensure my line ends should I ever betray her. I swear this oath of allegiance to Viktor’s rightful heir, our sacred Lady of Winter.”
The silver tendrils of the frozen vortex flickered beneath Carina’s skin as her power flowed freely into the kneeling Viscount’s body. Linby’s grip on her hand tightened as he sucked in a sharp breath of relief. The vortex’s power that poured into him erased what few lines of age marred his otherwise pale skin. The flushed luster of youth and health emerged beneath the Viscount’s tearful eyes while his hair glowed as if kissed by moonlight. The Duchess watched as the magic of the oath burned like a white iron against Linby’s beating heart in the shape of the Isbrand snowflake.
‘If he betrays me, the oath will claim his life.’ An odd sense of reassurance and guilt ran through Carina as she withdrew her fingers from Linby’s loose grip. “I hereby accept your oath, Lord Linby, and in exchange, I return to you and your coven the power which is rightfully yours. Use it to revive the elders so that they may serve their Queen.”
“Yes–Your Majesty,” Linby’s voice cracked with suppressed emotions as he rose upon trembling legs. “You are—finally whole?”
“And not a moment too soon,” Maylea commented sarcastically. Carina turned toward the spymaster sharply, who had the decency to lower her eyes before continuing. “As far as we know, the half-blood you now possess is the last vessel of the Isbrand bloodline. Even the immortal Scarlet Witch cannot return without a proper vessel to fill.”
“Then we must succeed at any cost!” Linby roared as he shook off his earlier shock. “Surely now, with Viktor’s full power, your Majesty will have the strength to oppose Ramiel’s Saint.”
“It is not so much the Saint but the gods who oppose Viktor’s sacrifice that concern me,” Carina responded honestly. ‘And Hana is my dear friend. Even if I have reason to believe she might become the Saint–that does not automatically make her my enemy.’
“If it is the gods you fear, then why do we quibble over a mortal throne, my Queen,” Linby replied with honest confusion. “Once you ascend to join the gods, such a place will hold little worth or meaning to you.”
‘So Linby is familiar with Kirsi’s desire for immortality? I wonder if the rest of the Frost Coven are as eager to see me succeed?’
“Lafeara is the altar upon which Ramiel, Arachne, and Kritanta will soon descend,” Carian replied with firm certainty. “Although it has been many centuries since the Isbrands ruled these lands, they still hold meaning and worth to those with ice in their veins. I would see them purged of plague, superstition, and corruption so that future generations of witches may live free from repression and fear.”
Percy snorted in disbelief as he turned to face her. “What you speak of will be impossible to achieve as long as Nicholas holds Lafeara’s throne.”
“Which–” Maylea interjected hastily as she returned to her chair, “–brings me to the second reason I brought you all here. Tomorrow, when the Pope makes his move, Nicholas will stand beside him against the witches of Lafeara.”
“What?” Percy’s winter-gray eyes narrowed in shock.
Carina wrapped her numb fingers around the chair beside her and then turned slowly towards the knight captain behind her. Beaumont’s expression was unreadable as usual, but the giant’s hands, folded just above his belt, trembled with suppressed anger.
“What could Nicholas possibly have left to gain from the Church? The Pope has already recognized his right to rule. Why would the King risk losing half the nobility by allowing such a bloodbath?” The Earl snarled viciously. His threatening tone caused both of the spymaster's bodyguards to step forward cautiously.
“It’s not what Nicholas can gain, but what he stands to lose, which Jericho holds over him,” Maylea replied with a cautioning motion of her hand to the hooded men. “A piece of information known to very few people still living, yourself among them, Earl Hawthorne.”
“What is she talking about?” Carina demanded as she turned to face the silent Earl.
Percy’s expression quivered between anger and confusion before his eyebrows rose with an expression of surprise, followed swiftly by a slow nod of understanding. Carina waited impatiently as Maylea dismissed her guards to a discrete distance while the Earl hastily erected a wind barrier to ensure privacy.
“The only way the Pope could threaten Nicholas’s reign now—would be if he discovered the truth about King Henri’s lineage,” Percy muttered as he lowered his hand.
“You are correct, Earl Hawthrone,” Maylea affirmed before her ghostly eyes returned to the Duchess. “As you have long experienced, Kirsi, the gods have a way of meddling with the lives of those around you, mortal and witch alike. Before your soul found its way to Maura, a plan was prepared to draw you into the palace and lower your guard before the one mortal who could destroy you.”
“Regardless of what you might believe, Hana is not my enemy,” Carina growled with a warning glare in the spymaster's direction. “I am not heartless enough to sacrifice a friend to avert one of any infinite number of possibilities.”
“Lady Nesta is not the only trap I speak of,” Maylea replied cryptically before finishing the last of her wine. “Then again, perhaps fate brought such a bright and eager mortal to Earl Ethan Hawthrone’s attention. An intelligent but foolish noble, only recently implemented as a court historian. Earl Ethan befriended the man and convinced him to dig into the Dowager’s hold over King Henri and his wives. After years of searching through the archives of past historians, this mortal was able to piece together the turmoil between the previous monarch, King Leon Havardur, and his many wives.
“As you all know, Octavia was one of the last royal consorts accepted by Leon’s court of officials. By then, Queen Lucetta's position as the King’s favorite seemed all but assured despite the absences of any children. King Leon, much like his father, had difficulty acquiring a male heir. Octavia and the other Royal Consorts were similarly unable to conceive, so when Queen Lucetta became pregnant, her power and authority over the court only doubled.”
“But Queen Lucetta died during childbirth,” Carina muttered, struggling to decipher the point of this story. “And Octavia seized that opportunity to adopt Prince Henri and become queen.”
“That is how the historians recorded it,” Maylea murmured with an almost sympathetic shake of her head. “In reality, Queen Lucetta was set up by Octavia. The Dowager had discovered by then that King Leon was impotent. With this knowledge in mind, it didn’t take the cunning strategist long to uncover Lucetta’s illicit affair with Duke Raden Hargreve, the Lord Commander’s father.
“Once Octavia had obtained enough evidence to condemn the Queen and her unborn child, she cornered Lucetta with her crime. For reasons yet to be explained, the Queen went into labor a month early. What we do know is that Octavia found a way to remain by her side until Henri’s birth. After the prince was removed to be presented to King Leon, Octavia forced Lucetta to write a letter of confession in exchange for sparing the life of Henri and the Duke. The Queen died shortly after penning her crime on paper. Some say the Dowager forced her to drink a cup of poisoned wine, while others claim the Queen was already dying due to a forced early delivery.”
‘Either outcome is possible,’ the Duchess mused as she contemplated the spymaster’s story. ‘Especially given the rumors of Octavia’s hand in the death of King Henri’s wives. Still—’
“But why demand a letter of confession if she meant to kill Queen Lucetta anyway and raise Henri as her adopted son? And why would the Queen agree if she knew Octavia would kill her either way?”
“Because King Leon was a tyrant,” Linby explained with a faint grimace. “His ego would not have suffered such an offense lightly, especially when it exposed his inability to produce an heir. In any event, Octavia planned to expose Henri after Leon’s passing in order to seize the throne for herself.”
“Then why didn’t she?” Carina pressed unconvinced.
“It was the appearance of Emperor Arius that put an end to Octavia’s plans,” Viscount continued patiently. “King Leon was on the verge of joining the Holy War against the Emperor, which would have likely resulted in Lafeara’s downfall. But he was assassinated before reaching the border to Zarus, leaving Pope Ivan with little choice but to coronate Crown Prince Henri by proxy.”
“What the Pope didn’t expect was for the new King to pull Lafeara’s troops from the battlefield and declare themselves a neutral party,” Maylea commented with a rueful smile. “Which we attribute to Octavia sinking her hooks into Henri by holding the truth about his birth over his head.”
“Don’t forget the rumors that Henri and Octavia were behind Leon’s assassination.”
The spymaster waved her hand dismissively. “In either case, Octavia knew that the Emperor would come for her if she tried to claim Lafeara’s throne. The Dowager had already weakened herself with the aconitum herb for years in order to hide from the church. She no longer had any sway over the Front Coven, and Lafeara’s Air Covens were too divided to be a match for the Emperor and his legions of fire witches.”
The Duchess glanced between the spymaster and Viscount before shaking her head with a laugh. “That’s certainly a fascinating story. While it fits very neatly into the events of history, without a shred of evidence,” she returned to her chair with a weary sigh, “it is no better than gossip.”
“Even the Pope would find it difficult to depose a King without physical evidence to support the invalidity of his reign,” Beaumont commented dryly.
“But we know that evidence does exist,” Maylea replied confidently.
Carina drew in a sharp breath. “The confession letter?”
The spymaster nodded before turning to wave her hand permissively at the Earl. Percy shot her an annoyed look before clearing his throat. “The spy in Madam Maylea’s story was Lord Spenser Koresh.”
The Duchess went rigid as Maylea’s comment about the god’s meddling fell into place. “Lord Koresh?”
“Yes.” The Earl fidgeted with his cuff for a moment before continuing, “My father recruited the historian shortly after Koresh arrived at court. At this time, Queen Rosalinda resided at Rose Palace and oversaw the princes’ training under the Dowager’s supervision. An unexplained fire forced the Queen and princes to live with the Dowager at Lilly Palace for a few weeks while the damage was being repaired. Lord Koresh used that opportunity to search the Dowager’s private library and office while visiting Queen Rosalinda. That is where he came upon a ledger containing detailed information of bribes and blackmail the Dowager used to control King Henri’s court–along with Queen Lucetta’s signed confession.”
“Is that what happened?” Carina demanded tensely as her fingers tightened around the arm of the chair. “Is that why Lord Koresh was executed for treason?”
“Yes,” Linby answered with a resigned sigh. “Unfortunately, Lord Koresh was discovered by one of the Dowager’s attendants. Although Queen Rose Rosalinda came to his rescue, claiming she had sent him into the library to fetch a book for the princes, the Dowager became suspicious when she was informed. While Koresh was forced to abandon the ledger, he did smuggle out Queen Lucetta’s confession before fleeing the palace.”
“I remember the day Lord Koresh came to Hawthorne Manor looking for my father, drenched by the rain,” Percy murmured, his tone and expression darkening as his winter-gray eyes focused in on the Viscount. “Regrettably, my father was away on Coven business, so it was the Countess who received him.”
“And at that time, Countess Constance was already deeply rooted in the Dowager’s favor. Octavia had no place for Earl Ethan’s meddling in her court or private affairs. Before the incident of Lucetta’s letter, Ocativa started a rumor at court that Earl Ethan shared a close relationship with Queen Rosalinda, sparking dangerous gossip that the two were having an affair.”
“While King Henri cared little for such rumors, having already become enthralled with my cousin, Lady Serilda, my Mother took those rumors to heart,” Percy murmured with a pained expression. “Lord Koresh's arrival led her to believe the Dowager’s whispers that my father sought to overthrow Lafeara’s current monarchy and possibly become King himself. My mother seized that opportunity to punish my father, then claimed his position of power at court and among the Covens.”
‘So Constance betrayed her husband over an ugly rumor and then turned against her own niece to seize the reigns of Lafearas most influential covens. It’s almost frightening how much she takes after the Dowager.’
“Lord Koresh was arrested before he reached home that night,” Linby continued, breaking the awkward silence. “By dawn, he had been found guilty of treason and executed. His wife and child fled when the knights came to confiscate all his worldly goods, but Queen Lucetta’s confession letter was not among them.”
“So the Dowager eliminated her political opponent but lost her trump card over King Henri?” Carina questioned, inwardly marveling at Octavia’s ruthless methods for maintaining power.
“As far as King Henri knew, that letter has never left the Dowager’s possession,” Linby replied with a shrug.
“But now the Pope knows of its existence?”
The Viscount nodded. “Queen Lucetta was a very religious woman. A priest who attended the birth noted that the Queen died under mysterious circumstances. While Pope Ivan may have had reason to suspect Octavia–he still blessed King Henri’s coronation.”
The Duchess shook her head. “So then, how does Pope Jericho know, much less have the evidence to blackmail Nicholas with?”
“Because Octavia gave it to him,” Maylea interjected in a matter-of-fact tone. “The day the Pope arrived in Lafeara, the Dowager sent a forged copy of Queen Lucetta’s confession letter to the Pope.”
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