The Prince (The Florentine 0.5)(9)

Christopher shifted his weight. “It appears someone must have told them.”

The Prince regarded his head of security for a moment, his face severe.

Christopher lowered his eyes to the floor, as if by doing so, he could escape his ruler’s wrath.

At length, the Prince spoke. “How many men entered the city?”

“Fourteen, my lord. There was no other breach.”

“I was accosted by ten.”

Christopher nodded uncomfortably.

“Must I pull this information from you? Where’s the remaining four?” the Prince demanded.

“They separated from the others when they approached the city center, probably with the intention of flanking you. Our trackers caught up with them and were able to fell three.”

The Prince paused and the silence in the council chamber grew very loud.

“It appears you’ve lost one.”

Christopher began speaking very quickly. “We are using every tool available in order to find him. I promise, my prince, I—”

But the Prince had heard enough. He stood and removed his cloak, folding it neatly over one of the armrests of his throne. Then he faced his head of security.

“Christopher of Canterbury, you have been tasked with ensuring the security of the principality. A gap in the perimeter was revealed to our enemies and exploited. This gap was something you were aware of but made no effort to close.

“You allowed an invading force to enter the city and attack me. Further, you allowed one of those invaders to escape. He could be anywhere, planning an attack or acts of sabotage. He’s probably sending intelligence to our enemies.

“You failed in your duties. Your failure has also exposed a related breach of security, since it appears you or someone under your supervision has sold principality secrets.

“I find you guilty of treason. Kneel.”

Christopher retreated two steps, his lips curling into a snarl. “I’ve served you faithfully for two hundred years.”

The Prince didn’t even blink. He stood, expression carefully controlled, waiting for his command to be obeyed.

Christopher tried to make eye contact with his colleagues, searching desperately for an ally. “Will no one rise to my defense?”

The council members maintained their silence, avoiding his eyes and keeping their gazes fixed on the Prince.

Christopher approached the only female council member. “Aoibhe, will you not come to my aid? We’re almost kinsmen.”

Her dark eyes flashed and her pretty face morphed into a sneer. “I’m Irish, you dog. You’re no kinsman of mine.”

As if to punctuate her hatred (or her loyalty to the Prince), she spat at Christopher’s feet.

He stepped back in surprise.

When he’d recovered, he moved toward the council member seated to her left. “Niccolò?”

The Florentine shook his head. “To quote someone wise, ‘if a man is to be punished, it should be severe enough that his vengeance need not be feared.’ ”

Christopher muttered something pejorative beneath his breath.

He lifted his hands to the Prince. “Am I not to be afforded a trial?”

The ruler regarded him coolly. “I think you are confusing this principality with a democracy. I am judge and jury here. Now kneel.”

“My lord, let me investigate. Let me find the invader.”

The Prince’s gray eyes moved to the two men sitting to his left.

“Maximilian, Pierre.”

The two councilmen moved forward but Christopher continued to address the Prince. “I served the principality and I did it well. It was my idea to implement the security systems. This, this is not justice.”

The Prince nodded at the men flanking the accused.

They were just about to physically restrain him, when he shoved Pierre aside and sprinted toward the door.

With a speed that made him almost invisible, the Prince overtook him, standing in front of the exit.

As Christopher skidded to a stop, the Prince lifted his hand.

“Without security, there is no principality. So you are incorrect, Christopher, as well as incompetent. This is justice.”

The Prince pointed to the stone floor. “I won’t ask you again.”

“Mercy,” Christopher whispered.

“I know no such word,” the Prince replied.

He took a moment to look over Christopher’s shoulder at the remaining Consilium members as if to ensure they were watching.

Christopher opened his mouth, perhaps to protest, but the Prince placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to his knees. With a look of carefully controlled fury, he ripped his head from his body and threw it across the room before Christopher could utter a single syllable.

The Prince stepped over the body with an expression of distaste. “Pierre, summon Gregor to remove the refuse.”

Pierre bowed and scurried to the hall.

Once the body and head had been disposed of and the blood had been cleaned from the stone floor, the Consilium resumed their meeting.

The Prince addressed his lieutenant from the throne.

“Lorenzo, please inform Ibarra of the Euskaldunuak that he is to be promoted to head of security and will now join the Consilium. I expect him to be briefed and ready to meet with me in two hours. His first assignment will be to find out who sold the schematics from our security systems to the invaders.”