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I went willingly with the Sentries as they escorted me back to the White Palace. I had killed Rook Neculai, pushed him in front of a speeding carriage. The wheels ran his body over, turning him into pulp.
The guards at the front gate looked surprised when I, the First Pawn of the Second Quadrant, arrived with three Sentries at my back.
Sentries were of lower rank than any Board members, and they had no business escorting Pawns unless trouble was afoot, and there certainly was.
“Let us in and take us to Knight Kelsus,” I said before my escort had a chance to speak.
If I was to have a chance of surviving this, Kelsus was my only hope. He was lenient, and he might take my side. I was a member of his Quadrant, after all.
The guards allowed us through the gates and, while one of them stayed back, the other walked to the dining hall with us.
No one was around, for which I was grateful. It was our day off, so most of the Board members were enjoying themselves down in the city. At least I was spared that humiliation. The gods knew there would be enough to suffer once the Knights found out I had killed one of their Rooks.
Our boots tapped against the stone floor of the dining hall as we made our way toward the back where both Knights kept their offices.
At the door, I paused, my heart wreaking havoc inside my chest. What would happen to me? The answer lay on the other side, and I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want confirmation that death was the only consequence for what I’d done.
The Sentry commander who had taken control of the situation at the scene of the crime gave me a nod of encouragement. The man had treated me fairly and graciously, considering the circumstances. He seemed to believe my story that Rook Neculai had tried to kill me, so I’d killed him first.
I knocked on the door and prayed that Knight Ferko was not there. What would The Decapitator do when she found out I had killed her Rook?
“Come in,” Knight Kelsus called.
Taking a deep breath, I turned the knob and pushed the door open. It swung on its hinges to reveal both Knights sitting behind their desks and looking up at me.
One short beat passed then they were both on their feet.
“First Pawn Flagfall,” Knight Kelsus said, “is something the matter?”
I didn’t know what to say, how to begin to explain what I had done, so I nodded to the Sentry commander to indicate he could speak.
The Sentry saluted, extending his right hand toward the floor and clicking his heels. “Knight Kelsus.” He bowed. “Knight Ferko.” He bowed again. “There has been an accident.”
Both Knights exchanged a glance and walked around their desks.
“Explain,” Ferko ordered, her angular features set.
Her hair, which had been cropped close to her scalp when I’d first joined the board, was now an inch or two long. It was as black as ebony and shone with the light seeping through the narrow windows. Her dark eyes glinted with their usual malice.
The Sentry commander turned to his two men and said, “Please, wait outside.” Once they’d left, he continued. “I am sorry to give you this news, but Rook Neculai is dead.”
Silence fell over the room as the Knights assimilated the news. After a moment, Kelsus blinked and frowned at me, surely trying to figure out what my presence here had to do with Neculai’s death. I held his gaze, trying my best to hide my fear and wishing I had told my Quadrant leader how Rook Neculai had been harassing me for weeks. Maybe if I’d complained about the Rook’s advancements, my chances of getting out of this alive would have been better.
“How?” Knight Ferko asked, showing no signs that the news affected her in any way. Neculai had been her Rook for over thirty years, and it seemed his unexpected passing made her feel absolutely nothing.
“Rook Neculai was run over by a carriage,” the Sentry said. “He didn’t suffer. He died instantly.”
Ferko narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. “That is unfortunate.” It sounded as if she were talking about a bit of bad weather, a morning shower that spoiled someone’s picnic and not the death of one of her Board members. She turned her attention to me. “And what have you to do with all of this?”
I bit my lower lip as my lungs ceased. This was it. There was no escape.
“Well, I escorted her here because—” The Sentry started to answer, but I interrupted him.
“Because it’s my fault,” I said, fighting the urge to lower my gaze and, instead, staring at Ferko right in the eye. “I pushed him.”
Knight Kelsus flinched. It was a quick, almost imperceptible reaction, but he was surprised. Ferko’s face, on the other hand, revealed nothing.
“It was in self-defense,” I added, keeping my words measured to ensure they didn’t betray my desperation. If they saw my fear, they would doubt me, and that would get me killed faster than anything else.
“Self-defense,” Knight Ferko said, raising a perfect black eyebrow. “And we’re expected to believe that?” He turned to the Sentry. “Were there any witnesses?”
“No, Knight Ferko,” the Sentry said. “I questioned everyone. No one noticed what happened.”
Ferko huffed. “Very convenient.”
“Knight Ferko,” Kelsus said, “with all due respect, we can neither believe nor disbelieve anything. Not until we’ve heard exactly what happened.”
“Too bad Neculai isn’t here to tell his side of the story,” Ferko said in a tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Indeed,” Kelsus said. “So our only recourse is to listen to First Pawn Flagfall and judge for ourselves whether or not we believe her.”
Knight Ferko let out a drawn-out sigh. “Very well. Let’s hear it then.”
She began to walk around her desk but stopped when Knight Kelsus said, “I propose we take this to Queen Lovina. One of her topped rank members has died, after all. She should be the one to make a decision.”
What?! The Queen? I’d thought Knight Kelsus would help me, but instead, he was proposing to take me in front of the Queen. Bile burned in my throat, rising, choking me. I pressed a hand to my stomach.
Images of Neculai’s brain matter smeared on the cobblestones flashed before my eyes. My stomach lurched, then I vomited on Knight Kelsus’s boots.
I was going to meet Queen Lovina face to face.