Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

the place look untidy, standing around like that. If I'd wanted statues in my room, I'd have bought some.'
    Roderik, Argent and Gawaine pulled up chairs facing him, and sat down. Jordan noted approvingly that Gawaine was the only one who'd placed his chair so that he wasn't sitting with his back to the door.
    Roderik frowned unhappily, and leant forward.
    'There isn't really much in your father's will that can be called favourable,' he said slowly. 'Favourable to us, that is. Malcolm mentioned his fear of a sudden death, which suggests he believed someone might be planning to murder him, but there's nothing in the will to suggest he knew who the murderer would be.
    Assuming, of course, that Malcolm was murdered. We have no direct evidence.'
    'It was murder,' said Jordan. 'Dad's death was too sudden and too convenient to be anything else.'
    'As you say, Sire.' Roderik bowed slightly, before continuing. 'The only clue as to the whereabouts of the crown and seal
    lies in the single phrase among those who have gone before. It seems likely he was referring to the previous Kings of Redhart; those who preceded him on the throne.'
    Jordan chewed on the inside of his cheek as Viktor's background knowledge bubbled eerily at the back of his mind. He looked sharply at Roderik.
    'Dad hasn't been buried yet, has he?'
    'No, your highness,' said Roderik. 'He's still lying in state in the family Crypt, according to law and custom.'
    'So right now he's lying among his ancestors, those who have gone before. That's what the clue means.
    The crown and seal are hidden somewhere in the family Crypt!'
    Sir Gawaine coughed apologetically. 'Our people have already searched there, Sire. They found nothing.
    And it's a safe bet your brothers would also have had the place searched. If the crown and seal were there, someone would have found them by now.'
    'Not necessarily,' said Jordan. 'Dad said they wouldn't be easily found.' He rose abruptly to his feet, almost bowling Heather over. 'Let's go. I want to take a look at the Crypt myself.'
    'Very well, Sire,' said Roderik, getting to his feet more slowly. 'I'll summon a company of guards to escort us.'
    'No,' said Jordan. 'I think the fewer who know about this, the better. I don't know about the rest of you, but it's looking more and more obvious to me that we have a traitor somewhere among our people.
    Think about it. You were attacked twice when bringing the actor back to the Castle. Outside of us, who knew the exact route you'd be taking? Then again, somebody told my dear brothers that we were using the actor as a double in public. That's why you were pressured into attending the Testing. And finally, somebody has been feeding me poison for some time. That had to be the work of somebody close to us, someone we trust. I'm not ready to point any fingers yet, but I don't feel inclined to take any chances I don't have to. We go alone down into the Crypt, just the five of us.' 'Six, including the actor,' said Sir Gawaine. 'I'm not waiting for him and his damned weak bladder,' snapped Jordan. 'We'll leave word with the guards at the door, and he can wait here till we return. We don't need him. Now let's go. I've spent far too much time sitting around of late.'
    He strode over to the main door, and was somewhat gratified to hear the others scrambling to catch up with him. He'd started to wonder if he was overdoing the arrogance, but from the sound of their haste he'd got it just about right.
    The royal family Crypt turned out to be a huge stone chamber on the lowest floor of the Castle. They had to go through two basements to get to it. The Crypt was also a Sanctuary, one of the oldest stable places in the Castle. No magic would work there, for good or ill, and the dead slept undisturbed. King Malcolm's family had lain in the Crypt for generations, and their resting places were decorated with lifesize bas relief carvings, in varying shades of marble. Some looked unsettlingly lifelike in the dancing torchlight, as though the pale motionless figures were only sleeping, and might awaken at a sudden noise.
    King Malcolm lay in state upon the tomb that was to be his. His body had already undergone the undertaker's arts to ensure preservation, but he wouldn't be finally interred until the last protective spells had been woven around him. There were too many unpleasant things that could happen to a dead body in Castle Midnight. Jordan moved slowly forward to stand beside the King. The morticians had done