closest to Canter and leaned against its sturdy back. Nicholas watched him as if waiting for Matthias to take control of the meeting. Jewel drifted toward Nicholas's side. She looked as if she were going to guide him.
The others didn't seem to care. Miller was tracing the grooves in the paneled wall, his long fingers dancing over the edges as if they were harpsichord keys. Miller was in his twenties, having acquired the lordship from his father a few years before, much to Miller's upset. He had planned on using his musical talents in the Tabernacle, but the Invasion, and then his father's death, had come in the way.
Only Holbrook stared at Matthias. Holbrook was a tin-lord, a man who had risen in the ranks and was given his lordship as a reward for good service. If the Invasion hadn't wiped out the ranks of the lordly as well as the ranks of the underclasses, Holbrook would not be in this room at all. Still, Matthias was glad to see him. Holbrook was twice as old as the rest of them. He had lived a long and full life, which he wore on his features like an etching, and his counsel was often based on experience, where the counsel of the others wasn't.
Since Nicholas was not taking over the meeting, Matthias leaned forward. He would begin things before the woman did. "Forgive me, Highness," he said. "I came as quickly as I could. The messenger said this was a matter of some urgency."
"Some," Nicholas said. He spoke slowly, something Nicholas had never done in his life. "My father is dead."
Matthias heard the words, but didn't feel their import right away. Alexander? But he had grown up with Alexander, had spent his formative years with Alexander, had just the week before taken a cup of late night mead with Alexander, talking about the fortunes of the Kingdom.
The others hadn't known either. Egan sat up straight and Canter stopped contemplating his nails. Fesler sucked in his breath, and Miller made a small moan. Only Holbrook didn't move. Holbrook, Enford and that woman.
"Sire," Enford said. "If I may."
Sire . The word focused Matthias more quickly than anything else. Just like that awful day when the Auds came back from the Rocaan's meeting with the Fey, the meeting in which the Rocaan had died. Holy Sir , they had said to Matthias. Not Respected Sir, the title for an Elder, but Holy Sir, the title for the Rocaan. They had called him Holy Sir even before telling him that the Rocaan was dead.
Nicholas nodded at Enford, then turned his back. Jewel stood in front of him as if protecting him from the others. Nicholas stared at the wall as if it had a window.
"The King was murdered on the road into the Kenniland Marshes," Enford said. Miller started to interrupt, but Enford held up his hand for silence. "He was shot through the heart with a single arrow. No one else was injured. The assassin had to wait through the advance guards and the lone Danite sent to protect the King. The assassin's shot was swift and sure. None of us knew that an arrow had been launched until the King toppled over."
The phrase was so stark, so casual, as if they were speaking about an animal instead of a man they had all known.
"Who killed him?" Miller asked.
"We don't know," Enford said. "Monte and Lord Stowe are still there, hoping to find something."
"What do you need to find?" Holbrook said. "You have an arrow, so you have an archer. Archers work within a certain range and distance. There isn't much to conceal a man in those marshes. If you had conducted a search right away, you would have found your killer."
"There were trees," Enford said. "We sent guards there."
"But these were marshes, right?" Jewel said. "Couldn't someone be hiding in the water?"
"We searched the surrounding area. They wouldn't have gotten away without us seeing them."
"But they did." Fesler's voice was soft, but accusatory.
The others didn't seem to care. Miller was tracing the grooves in the paneled wall, his long fingers dancing over the edges as if they were harpsichord keys. Miller was in his twenties, having acquired the lordship from his father a few years before, much to Miller's upset. He had planned on using his musical talents in the Tabernacle, but the Invasion, and then his father's death, had come in the way.
Only Holbrook stared at Matthias. Holbrook was a tin-lord, a man who had risen in the ranks and was given his lordship as a reward for good service. If the Invasion hadn't wiped out the ranks of the lordly as well as the ranks of the underclasses, Holbrook would not be in this room at all. Still, Matthias was glad to see him. Holbrook was twice as old as the rest of them. He had lived a long and full life, which he wore on his features like an etching, and his counsel was often based on experience, where the counsel of the others wasn't.
Since Nicholas was not taking over the meeting, Matthias leaned forward. He would begin things before the woman did. "Forgive me, Highness," he said. "I came as quickly as I could. The messenger said this was a matter of some urgency."
"Some," Nicholas said. He spoke slowly, something Nicholas had never done in his life. "My father is dead."
Matthias heard the words, but didn't feel their import right away. Alexander? But he had grown up with Alexander, had spent his formative years with Alexander, had just the week before taken a cup of late night mead with Alexander, talking about the fortunes of the Kingdom.
The others hadn't known either. Egan sat up straight and Canter stopped contemplating his nails. Fesler sucked in his breath, and Miller made a small moan. Only Holbrook didn't move. Holbrook, Enford and that woman.
"Sire," Enford said. "If I may."
Sire . The word focused Matthias more quickly than anything else. Just like that awful day when the Auds came back from the Rocaan's meeting with the Fey, the meeting in which the Rocaan had died. Holy Sir , they had said to Matthias. Not Respected Sir, the title for an Elder, but Holy Sir, the title for the Rocaan. They had called him Holy Sir even before telling him that the Rocaan was dead.
Nicholas nodded at Enford, then turned his back. Jewel stood in front of him as if protecting him from the others. Nicholas stared at the wall as if it had a window.
"The King was murdered on the road into the Kenniland Marshes," Enford said. Miller started to interrupt, but Enford held up his hand for silence. "He was shot through the heart with a single arrow. No one else was injured. The assassin had to wait through the advance guards and the lone Danite sent to protect the King. The assassin's shot was swift and sure. None of us knew that an arrow had been launched until the King toppled over."
The phrase was so stark, so casual, as if they were speaking about an animal instead of a man they had all known.
"Who killed him?" Miller asked.
"We don't know," Enford said. "Monte and Lord Stowe are still there, hoping to find something."
"What do you need to find?" Holbrook said. "You have an arrow, so you have an archer. Archers work within a certain range and distance. There isn't much to conceal a man in those marshes. If you had conducted a search right away, you would have found your killer."
"There were trees," Enford said. "We sent guards there."
"But these were marshes, right?" Jewel said. "Couldn't someone be hiding in the water?"
"We searched the surrounding area. They wouldn't have gotten away without us seeing them."
"But they did." Fesler's voice was soft, but accusatory.
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