The Prince(9)

He genuflected.

“I apologize, my lord. But when you learn of the circumstances, I think you’ll agree our patrols behaved valiantly.”

The Prince regarded him in stony silence.

Christopher cleared his throat. “A force attacked one of our patrols to the east. Even though they were outnumbered, they fought bravely, eliminating half a dozen attackers. Unfortunately, the patrol was wiped out before they could raise the alarm.

“Another patrol came upon the scene shortly thereafter. We alerted the citizens, assembled a small force, and were in the process of tracking the invaders when they set upon you.”

Christopher bowed again, fighting his amusement. “Forgive me, my lord. It seems you are not the worse for having dealt with the security breach singlehandedly.”

If Christopher thought that his age or record of service to the Prince entitled him to make light of the assassination attempt, he was sorely mistaken.

The Prince growled. “What about the perimeter? The security cameras and alarms?”

Christopher hesitated.

“There’s a narrow corridor on the east side of the perimeter that isn’t covered by sensors. The invaders crossed into our territory at that point.”

“Why wasn’t I made aware of this?” The Prince’s voice dropped to just above a whisper.

Christopher’s bravado disappeared.

“My lord, the corridor is barely the breadth of a man’s shoulders. The invaders would have had to know exactly where it was and entered single file.”

“Explain to me how someone outside this principality knew about it.”

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?”