Chapter 21
At first the only thing to be heard was grumblings from the heads who had ridden through the night, along with questions directed at Duke Francis. He refused to answer, however, saying they would all hear what he had to say when the Council was officially begun.
Finally Duchess Ashten arrived, apologizing for keeping everyone waiting. She took the only remaining seat, and nine pairs of expectant eyes fixed themselves on Duke Francis.
I knew the cost of this action for him, but there was no sign of it in his unperturbed features. Having decided on the right course, he pursued it as steadfastly as he had pursued neutrality all these years.
“Come then, Francis,” Duke Rennon called. “You can have no more reason to delay telling us the meaning of this. You can imagine how astonished we were that you of all people would call such a meeting.”
“I did call it,” the Academy Head said, “but not on my own behalf.”
“Not on your own behalf?” The youngest man present leaned forward with a creased brow. He wore a full red robe and must have been the young law enforcement duke I had heard about from Darius—the one open to new ways. “But you know these meetings are closed, Francis. Especially an emergency session. Only a member of the Council can call one.”
“And a member of the Council did,” Duke Francis replied calmly. “It was my choice to call the meeting. But you are forgetting that there are two other people who have a traditional right to speak at such a gathering, though they are not officially members of the Council, as such.”
“I suppose you mean the king,” Duchess Ashten said. “There’s no need to be so formal about it all, Francis.” She surveyed the room again as if she could possibly have missed Cassius hiding in some corner. “But I see His Majesty is absent.”
“He means the heir,” the young duke breathed, a look bordering on excitement lighting his face. “The other member with the right to speak is the heir. The law is clear on the matter.”
An older lady in healers’ purple frowned. “But an heir may speak only if he—or she—wishes to challenge the monarch.”
Her words cut off abruptly, and absolute silence fell.
“So it has come at last,” said a portly gentleman in a silver robe that matched that of Duke Francis. The University Head, then. “Young Prince Darius means to force his father’s hand.”
“I knew there was a reason we were all banished at Midwinter,” a younger woman in a green growers’ robe said in a sour voice. “Most inconvenient it was too to be sent packing in such a manner.”
Her tone made me want to crow. The growers were aligned with the crown. For her to talk of Cassius in such a way must be a good sign for Darius.
Slowly silence fell as the attention of the group turned to its oldest member. General Haddon had so far been notably silent. The others all weighed him with their eyes. Had he known of this move of his grandson? Did he support it?
“Well, bring him in, then,” the general said after an extended moment. “Let us hear what he has to say.”
His manner didn’t make his feelings on the matter obvious, but his words still signaled a release of tension in the room. Some of the tension drained out of my own shoulders as well. It appeared Darius had succeeded in taking his grandfather, at least, by surprise. Whatever his private feelings, the old general wasn’t ready to take a public stand against his grandson. Whatever happened now, Darius would have his say.
Francis opened a door, saying something I couldn’t hear into the next room, and Darius appeared. He stood tall, and the ice had finally lifted from his eyes, letting everyone see the fire that burned beneath. I wanted to cheer.
But before the prince could speak, the other door into the council room burst open as well. The various cries of outrage died as everyone got a look at the person interrupting them so boldly.
King Cassius looked furious, his eyes raking the gathered Council and then finishing on his son.
“What is the meaning of this?” he cried. “Why wasn’t I informed the Council was meeting?”
“It appears,” Duke Francis said, “that you were informed.”
The king and the duke faced off, the fury in the king’s face doing nothing against the calm implacability of the Academy Head.
“But not by any of you,” the king at last snapped, his gaze once again sweeping the room.
“The laws on such emergency meetings are clear,” the Head of Law Enforcement said. “It is up to the member who called the meeting to inform the monarch—or not. And in this case, the meeting has been called to allow a hearing for the heir. Which means the monarch cannot be present.”
“Cannot?” The king’s voice dripped anger. “You are trying to exclude me from the Mage Council?”
“Not me,” the young duke said, showing more bravery than I expected. “It is the law that does so.”
“And which of you intends to uphold the law?” Cassius asked, threat in every syllable he uttered.
“Thank you, Father,” Darius said, his voice strong and calm. He made a striking contrast to his father—young and handsome but with steel in his face and fire in his eyes. “You are amply demonstrating why I was forced into seeking this meeting.”
He turned to the Head of Law Enforcement. “And thank you, Duke Gilbert, for your passion for our kingdom’s laws. But I waive my right to a hearing without my father present. I have nothing to say to you all that I will not say to him.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” Gilbert nodded at the prince before turning to Duke Francis. “Perhaps two more chairs would be in order?”
There was a momentary pause as the Academy Head called for more seating, while the king’s glower deepened. He had achieved what he wanted, but it had been granted him due to the graciousness of his son, and the victory no doubt tasted of sour defeat.
My attention kept circling back to the young Duke Gilbert. With his passion for the law and his interest in improving his discipline, I felt sure he would support Darius. And with his relative youth, he had a vitality some of the older Council members lacked.
Power hung around him in layers, most of which I assumed were his personal shields. The temptation to take control of just one of them, merely to test the layers of his expertise, pulled at me. If he was as strong as he was diligent, he would make a powerful ally for Darius.
The meeting had stalled, everyone waiting in terse silence for the extra chairs to arrive, and I felt ready to explode from the tension. It darted through my mind that it wouldn’t do any harm for me to quickly sample one of Duke Gilbert’s personal shields. Not if I was careful to leave the instructions exactly as he had written them.
I didn’t stop to think further, knowing I had only the briefest window before the meeting started again. Getting a taste of his composition might give me some insight into his mind.
“Take control,” I whispered, my energy reaching for one of the layers around the duke.
I connected with it instantly, the shape of a standard shield unfurling in my mind. It held incredible power, though. Unless he came under attack, he wouldn’t need to refresh it for days. And the precision was beyond anything I had experienced before, even from the Academy instructors. There was a reason he had ascended to such a senior position so young.