Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

their job well. Malcolm's face still held a normal colour, and he looked so peaceful he might almost have been sleeping. Almost. The others held back as Jordan studied the dead King. Up close, the illusion of peace wasn't nearly as convincing. The make-up that gave the face a semblance of life was glaringly obvious to Jordan's experienced eyes, and when he looked closely he could see the tiny black stitches that held the mouth and eyes closed. There was no odour of decay; just a faint whiff of formaldehyde.
    Jordan tried to read a character in the King's still features, but death and the morticians' skills had wiped
    all personality from the face. It might as well have been a garishly painted doll. Jordan closed his eyes and let his mind drift, hoping some of Viktor's memories might hold a clue as to where to look for the hidden crown and seal. Nothing came to him but the beginnings of another headache. Jordan opened his eyes again, and thought hard. The answer had to be here somewhere. And he didn't have long to find it.
    Argent was keeping watch outside the Crypt, but they could be interrupted any time.
    Jordan looked around him, taking in the eerie carved figures that surrounded him. They'd all been sculpted with the usual enigmatic smiles, but to Jordan they all looked unbearably smug, as though they knew the answer but weren't going to tell him, because he was an outsider and an interloper. He frowned suddenly. Different as the many faces were, they all had certain things in common. They were portrayed in their best and finest robes, each fold of marble lovingly detailed, and the sculptors had even added stone crowns and rings. Jordan smiled slowly as an inspiration blossomed within him. If you want to hide a crown and a seal, where better than among a great many other crowns and seals? Jordan glanced quickly around him. If they were here, they couldn't be under an illusion spell; the Sanctuary would cancel that out. But since he couldn't see them, they must be physically disguised. He ran from tomb to tomb, checking each carved figure. The others watched uncompre-hendingly. And then Jordan's fingers stumbled over one of the stone crowns as it moved under his touch. He pulled it free and tapped it gently against the side of the bier. Brittle flakes of plaster fell away, revealing a bright golden gleam.
    The others crowded in around Jordan as he carefully stripped away the plaster to reveal the true crown of Redhart. It was heavier than he expected; a simple unadorned circlet of solid gold. It is not the crown, but he who wears it. That is where true greatness lies. Lines from an old play echoed through Jordan's mind. It seemed a long time now since he'd last stood on a stage, playing a simple straightforward role before an undemanding audience. He pushed the thought away, and pulled at the rings on the stone fingers until one of them came loose. Under the thin covering of plaster lay a heavy gold ring bearing the royal seal of Redhart. Jordan held the crown and seal in his hands, and then closed his eyes briefly as his tiredness caught up with him. The Lady Heather moved in beside him.
    'Are you all right, Viktor? You mustn't overtire yourself. You've been ill, remember?'
    Jordan opened his eyes quickly and smiled at her. 'I'll be fine, Heather. The worst of it's over now. The crown and seal are mine at last.'
    'Until I take them away from you,' said Dominic.
    The conspirators spun round, reaching for their weapons, only to stop and stand very still as Dominic's guards spilled into the Crypt. Jordan counted seventeen, and he could hear others moving outside. Even with Gawaine's axe, the odds stank. He ostentatiously took his hand away from his sword, and smiled winningly at Dominic. The Prince smiled at Jordan with half his mouth, but the single eye in the ruined face was cold and unamused.
    'You always were the brightest of us, Viktor. I knew you'd work it out first, if any of us did. All I had to do was keep a close watch on you, and sooner or later you'd lead me right to the crown and seal. Not that it matters, but how did you know where to look?'
    'Dad made a will,' said Jordan, carefully putting the crown and seal down on Malcolm's bier. 'He thought none of us was worthy to be King, but he did leave us a clue. It brought me here; the rest was just common sense.'
    'So, you followed the clue and I followed you,' said Dominic. 'Just as I've followed you all along. No matter where you went or what you did, I