“What do you wish to know, Your Highness?”
Jamil looked back at Captain Zetht, choosing his words carefully. He wanted an unbiased opinion. “What made you think the rebels were at fault?”
“Have you read my report, Your Highness?”
Jamil nodded. After his confrontation with Rohan, it was the first thing he’d done, but the report hadn’t answered his questions.
“I have, but it is not clear how you came to such conclusions. All the report says is that Mehmer’s aircraft was disintegrated near the Northern Kavalchi Mountains.” He was a little surprised by how steady his voice sounded. He would like to think that he was finally moving on, letting go of his grief, but Jamil had a feeling it wasn’t as simple as that. This… fixation on him just seemed to eclipse everything else, drowning out even his grief, however temporarily.
Captain Zetht frowned. “The rebels’ base is suspected to be somewhere in that region, Your Highness. That part of the Great Mountains is inaccessible for teleporters and most aircrafts because of the magnetic disturbance caused by the small korviu deposits under the mountains. Satellites can’t get good scans of the region either because of the interference. It’s the only part of Calluvia that can’t be scanned, so we’re almost certain the rebels’ settlement must be there—there’s nowhere else for it to be.”
Not on this planet, Jamil thought.
“So basically, it’s all conjecture,” he said, his mind racing. “You don’t have proof that it was the rebels.”
Captain Zetht looked mulish. “Your Highness, it’s almost certain. There was a rebel leaflet found nearby. Besides, no intergalactic terrorist groups came forward to claim responsibility for killing the prince-consort. It must be the rebels. They never claim their deeds.”
Maybe because they never actually kill anyone.
The thought felt like a betrayal after months of hating those people for Mehmer’s death. Jamil wasn’t sure how to feel now, what to think. Besides, it was a strange coincidence that Mehmer had been killed in the region inaccessible for teleporters—just like Tai’Lehr. Was there a connection?
Jamil frowned. “I don’t understand why that region of the Kavalchi Mountains hasn’t been searched on foot to find out once and for all if the rebels are there or not.”
Captain Zetht shook his head. “It’s a near impossible task, Your Highness. The Kavalchi Mountains are at their highest in that region—almost thirty tarsecs high—and they’re impassable after the first few tarsecs.” He looked uncomfortable. “There have been numerous expeditions to that region over the centuries, but they all returned empty-handed. They say…”
Jamil raised his eyebrows when Zetht trailed off. “Captain?”
“People who returned claimed that the region was haunted,” Captain Zetht said, flushing. “I know it sounds like nonsense, but it is rather strange that all expeditions weren’t able to go far, isn’t it?”
Jamil had to concede it was rather strange.
Captain Zetht sighed. “Even the huge search parties organized after the disappearance of the Fifth Grand Clan’s heir weren’t able to go deep into the region—”
“Wait, what?” Jamil said, sitting straighter.
Captain Zetht seemed confused by his surprise. “Don’t you remember that the two princes of the Fifth Grand Clan were allegedly kidnapped by the rebels close to that area? I know it’s been almost two decades, Your Highness—you were just a boy—but surely you remember the uproar it caused?”
“I recall it now,” Jamil said thoughtfully. There was a niggling at the back of his mind. He was missing something; he could feel it, the truth just barely out of reach. “But refresh my memory please.”
“Crown Prince Warrehn and his brother Prince Eruadarhd were traveling through the Revialli Forest, but their entourage returned without the princes, saying that the princes were kidnapped by the rebels. It was a huge blow to the Fifth Grand Clan, considering that the princes’ parents had died just a few months prior. It’s a good thing the clan had such a capable regent or it would have been torn apart in a civil war. Of course, it’s a pity that the direct line is extinguished, but Lady Dalatteya’s son is ascending to the throne next year. The Fifth Grand Clan will finally have a king.”
Jamil stared at him.
“Thank you, Captain. You may go.”
As the door slid shut after the captain, Jamil sagged back in his seat, his mind reeling.
* * *
Jamil had tried to convince himself to stay out of it. He told himself it wasn’t his business. He should stay out of the rebels’ affairs—stay away from Rohan di’Lehr. But his willpower lasted just five days.
On the sixth day, he made a call on the regent of the Fifth Grand Clan, Dalatteya’il’zaver.
“Your Highness,” Dalatteya said, standing up to bow to him slightly. He might outrank her, but she was one of those women that commanded the room even when she was bowing. Most royals wished they had half of her regal bearing.