Veximarl checked his pocket watch. “Five minutes is long enough. Leave two at the gate. Everyone else, prepare to move in. Gather everyone in the center garden. Lethal force is not to be permitted.”
He held his hand forward and the people with him entered the Daughters of Iath temple. They were already being disrespectful by having himself and Viokern lead the investigation. Veximarl insisted that his company today be composed solely of women. It was the least he could do, considering how there will no doubt be flooded with complaints on how they handled this situation.
Their efforts today would be the first steps taken to heal this place. Veximarl sighed to himself. He could already hear screaming coming from within. “Let’s go, Viokern.”
Viokern didn’t want to be doing this. He should’ve gone to the palace banquet. Coming here without informing his mother first… It left a bad taste in his mouth. If Laurent hadn’t been the one to request that he be here this day, he would’ve refused to join this assignment.
Women were being dragged from their rooms and thrown into the garden. Once there, they were told to sit and wait for instructions. Veximarl calmly walked past the chaos and to a centralized place where he could easily be seen.
He checked his pocket watch as he waited for his guards to bring some semblance of order. They didn’t have any time to waste. “Attention!” Veximarl waited for them to be silent. “Pennyrile’s time as the madam is over! Know that the church is merciful! Those who come forward with evidence of her crimes will find themselves free of their sins!
Tria favors those who have been truthful in life. It is time to banish the cruelty that has stained these sacred halls! There was never a need to sacrifice your bodies. No need to sell your sisters and harvest the blood of their corpses. I will see to it personally that each and every one of you are forgiven! Your crimes are not your own!
But this is not an open deal. My patience has its limits. You have until the moon is high to come forward and confess. I will not look kindly on those who choose to wait on their words.” Veximarl glanced at Viokern. “Let us retreat to her office for the time being.”
There wasn’t a guarantee that the military wouldn’t barge in despite the church’s interference. Veximarl’s first priority was to remove any evidence that could be used to create criminal charges against Duchess Elbellziara. Then they needed to locate any documents that could be used to arrest Duxton’s military allies.
The pair entered Pennyrile’s office and Veximarl asked Viokern to help move the desk. There was a rug underneath that was hiding a safe. Amalfrieda had stopped by the other day under the guise of giving donations, but her true goal was to scout out where the documents were. What they were doing now was a legal seizure of those documents.
“Is there anything useful?” Viokern was sitting on the floor, watching as Veximarl sorted through books and letters.
“... Letters.” Veximarl scanned through a stack of them. “These should be everything involving Duchess Elbellziara.” He quickly counted them with his fingers before handing them to Viokern. “Keep them in your jacket for now.”
Everything else was sorted on the desk. Veximarl has been told to mentally prepare himself for what he found, but it was so much worse than he imagined. He collapsed in Pennyrile’s chair and buried his face in his hands. Tish was terrified of this world. She had every right to be.
He had failed her. Veximarl should’ve fought for her to stay at Braytons. He should’ve pressured her to tell him the truth all the sooner, and this entire mess would’ve been avoided. Grimhawk and Buttonweed’s death, along with a slew of other murders… All of it could have been avoided if Veximarl hadn’t failed Tish.
“Are you okay?” Viokern picked up one of the documents.
“I need a moment,” replied Veximarl. “I fear that I will level this place to the ground if I don’t take a moment to breathe.” If he were to have one moment to impact this world, it would be to destroy this institution. “I underestimated how overwhelming this will be. You should go home. I’ll give you a detailed report later.”
Viokern wished to believe that none of this could be happening under his mother’s watch. “It’s my responsibility to see this through.” As both a son of the duchess and as Laurent’s choice for the king’s seat.
“You are far braver than I was at your age.” Veximarl lifted his head as he heard a nun enter the room. “Are they ready to speak?”
She curtsied. “Yes, Brother. However, the military is now waiting at the entrance. They have asked for an audience with you.”
Veximarl groaned as he stood up. “I would’ve preferred more time to sort through it all, but we’ll make due.” He gestured for Viokern to follow him. “Put on a brave face. The time has come for you to officially declare war against Prince Duxton.”
Viokern could already feel his gut twisting. Veximarl had said that he’d take care of much of the background work, but Viokern was the face of the coup. He would be the one to sit on the throne. The public had to see him as a leader and not the teenager that he was.
The pair took their time walking through the halls and met up with the leaders of the military investigation, Shaw and Udell. They had brought a dozen armed soldiers with them. All men. Veximarl fought off the urge to scoff. It was one thing to perform an investigation, another to do so without any tact or respect.
“Tuton,” said Shaw. He stood at the front of the group. If they had not been asked nicely to wait, they would’ve already been inside.
Veximarl stood firm, with a hand on his spear. “It’s Fogbloom now, Paladin Shaw, though I’ll allow you to informally call me Brother Vex. Most of my associates do.” He then nodded at Udell. “Sir Tardivel.”
“Move aside,” growled Udell.
Viokern stepped forward. “I am the one leading the church’s investigation today. You will show my subordinate respect.”
Udell tilted his head. He also took a step forward, so that he towered over the fourteen-year-old boy. “... Move aside.”
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“I will not,” spat back Viokern.
Shaw politely bowed. “Lord Viokern, we represent the king’s military. We have obtained a warrant to search Madam Pennyrile’s office. Please allow us to pass. Our intrusion will be minimal.”
Viokern glanced at Veximarl, who immediately gestured that the teen turn back around. “The law states that neither the military nor church may intrude upon the other during an active investigation. Your warrant is no longer valid.”
“Or it is perfectly valid,” growled Udell. “Because this is merely an excuse for you to hide evidence that the church was complacent in Madam Pennyile’s crime.”
Viokern would not be intimidated. “The same could be said about your motives. We have evidence that speaks ill of the military’s actions. I will not have my investigation besmirched by your vile intentions. Regardless of what you believe I am doing today, Sir Tardivel, you will find that your warrant will no longer grant you entrance here today. The military cannot overturn the church’s jurisdiction within Grand Temple.”
The hooks on Udell’s belt rattled. He shot a glare at Shaw. “We cannot allow them-”
“My lord,” interrupted Veximarl. He bowed his head and whispered loudly in Viokern’s ear. “Let’s show them an ounce of mercy.”
Viokern nodded his head. “Paladin Shaw.” He gestured to Shaw to come forward. “You are the only one I will permit to enter. Tell your men to wait for you here.”
Shaw’s expression was completely unreadable. He held up a fist, signaling for the soldiers to stay put. “Lead on, Lord Viokern.”
For once, Veximarl was glad to be working with Amalfrieda. Her intel had been correct. Shaw and Udell were leading the investigation, and it was unlikely either would make a bold decision without Duxton’s permission.
Tonight’s goals would go ahead without further intervention. They would gather the evidence needed and carry out Pennyrile’s arrest at the banquet. Veximarl would use the documents to drive a wedge between Viokern and his mother, forcing the teen to side with Laurent on future endeavors. He would be nothing more than a puppet wearing a crown.
Veximarl entered the office first and picked up a bundle of papers. “I have already set aside anything pertaining to your sisters.” He held it out for Shaw to take.
“Thank you,” muttered Shaw. He remained standing near the door, with his back to a wall.
There was a stack of letters pertaining to Pennyrile and her allies' goals for Zaniyah. Pennyrile was planning on offering her a permanent post with the Daughters. She used harsh language to describe her, referring to Zaniyah as a cripple who would make an ill candidate for marriage. Dim-witted and easily manipulated. Her goal was to have full control over a female paladin and use her as the face of the Daughters.
In regards to Sena, there was only one letter that Pennyrile had kept. It was from a woman whose last name Shaw recognized. Duxton had tracked her husband down for Sena’s death and executed him. She seemed to have evidence that implied that Pennyrile was the one who ordered Sena’s murder, and was using that to blackmail the madam.
“Do you have her account ledger?” Shaw held out his hand.
“I do,” replied Veximarl as he gestured to a book on the desk. “It’s the seventh listed payment of every month.”
Shaw watched Veximarl open the ledger and point to the widow’s allowance that was being paid out. No one would think twice about a widow’s allowance in most ledgers, but this organization was composed of single women. There were several other widow’s allowances as well. They appeared to be her preferred way to pay blackmail.
“Our goals are aligned in this matter,” replied Shaw. “We should be working together to bring this woman down.”
Veximarl remained polite and humble. “We are in need of more manpower but I regret to inform you working together will only damage our larger goals. Unlike the military, the church has nothing to hide. Pennyrile’s crimes will be brought to the public light in full. She will not be the only one to fall from grace.”
Shaw looked over to Viokern, who was remaining silent. “What about any ill dealings that Duchess Elbellziara had? If you are going to be true to your words, then we must bury any and all corruption.”
“Leadership is a push and pull of trust,” replied Veximarl. “The Duchess presides over not only this city, but the whole of the Violet Region. She is a government figure, and the Daughters are a religious faction. As far as we can see, it is the Duchess who was betrayed and taken advantage of. The Madam has acted against her best interests and will be punished accordingly.”
“And how will I know that your definition of ‘accordingly’ will truly be the punishment she deserves?” Shaw had every reason to be skeptical. The church often looked out over its own.
“You can ask that question at her trial,” replied Veximarl. He gestured to the door, where a woman was waiting. “I ask that you excuse yourself at this time. Lord Viokern and I still have much work to attend to.”
Shaw glared. He stood his ground for a moment, then shook his head and turned around. “We’ll be having a formal meeting later.”
“I look forward to it,” replied Veximarl.
This was far more stressful than Viokern expected. The tension in the room was so thick that he was having trouble breathing. “I can’t take much more of this,” he whispered as Shaw left the room.
Veximarl spoke in a stern tone. “Either we destroy Duxton’s ability to gain reputable allies, or we send assassins after him and risk him becoming a martyr. We will go down the path you requested and exile Duxton. He will hold no sway over the crown after this.”
How many enemies were they expecting either himself or Duxton to make? “I would like to go to my mother’s after this.” Viokern needed to grab a few items. He didn’t wish to deal with his mother until after Pennyrile’s trial, and that meant that he would need to stay at the palace for a while.
“I will advise against that. You are in a fragile emotional state and may choose to say something regrettable to her.” Veximarl began to place stacks of books and documents into a box. “It’s best that you come home with me and give the Duchess an excuse about why you cannot spend tomorrow’s holiday with her.”
Home. Viokern nodded his head. The palace was his home now. He didn’t need a mother as corrupt as Duchess Elbellziara. It was important that he stay clear-headed and concentrate on becoming heir to the throne. After Pennyrile’s trial, he could force his mother to abdicate the throne to his brother and then be done with her.
He would give his mother enough money to live comfortably. Maybe he could convince Laurent that Duxton deserved a baronship out in the Crimson Region. It wasn’t a complete exile, but he may be happy enough with that post that he wouldn’t try coming after the crown again.
This was a declaration of war against Duxton, but Viokern would be merciful. He wouldn’t be Wulfric. A future built upon the blood of his relatives was not a foundation Viokern could stand on. There will not be a crown of bones upon his head.
“He will retaliate,” muttered Veximarl.
“Who will?” Viokern looked around, but it was only the two of them in the room.
“Ah…” Veximarl shook his head. “I was simply thinking to myself out loud, apologies. What I meant to say is that Duxton will find a way to retaliate. Any mistake we make could easily lead to our downfall, and he isn’t as generous as you are, Viokern.”
Veximarl was right. Duxton was a psychopath. He’d fight to the death to protect his claim to the throne. Viokern couldn’t afford to show kindness until after Duxton had signed a document forfeiting his claim to the throne. His first priority should always be to guard his own neck first. A crown cannot sit properly if there is no head upon his shoulders.
Exile. Focus first on the exile. If it wasn’t a possibility, Viokern wouldn’t hesitate to sign Duxton’s death warrant. He wouldn’t risk his own life or Viokern’s to keep that abomination alive. It was absolute victory or death.