“Marcus and the other participants in his little rebellion called for an end to the covenant in April.
Marcus declared that the Bishop family was under the direct protection of the Knights of Lazarus, thereby involving the brotherhood.”
Matthew looked at Marcus sharply. I didn’t know whether to kiss Matthew’s son for his efforts to protect my family or chide him for his optimism.
“In May . . . well, you know what happened in May,” Baldwin said. “Marcus characterized Emily’s death as a hostile act undertaken by members of the Congregation intent on provoking open conflict between creatures. He thought that the Congregation might want to reconsider his earlier request to abandon the covenant in exchange for a truce with the Knights of Lazarus.”
“It was an entirely reasonable request.” Marcus unrolled the document and scanned the lines.
“Reasonable or not, the measure went down: two in favor and seven opposed,” Baldwin reported.
“Never allow a vote whose outcome you can’t predict in advance, Marcus. You should have discovered that unpleasant truth about democracy by now.”
“It’s not possible. That means only you and Nathaniel’s mother voted in favor of my proposal,”
Marcus said, bewildered. Agatha Wilson, mother to Marcus’s friend Nathaniel, was one of the three daemons who were members of the Congregation.
“Another daemon sided with Agatha,” Baldwin said coldly.
“You voted against it?” Clearly Marcus had counted on his family’s support. Given my few dealings with Baldwin, I could have told him this was unduly hopeful.
“Let me see that,” Matthew said, plucking the parchment from Marcus’s fingers. His look demanded that Baldwin explain his actions.
“I had no choice,” Baldwin told Matthew. “Do you know how much damage your son has done?
From now on there will be whispers about how a young upstart from an inferior branch of the de Clermont family tree tried to mount an insurrection against a thousand years of tradition.”
“Inferior?” I was aghast at the insult to Ysabeau. My mother-in-law didn’t look at all surprised, however. If anything, she looked even more bored, studying her perfectly manicured long nails.
“You go too far, Baldwin,” Gallowglass growled. “You weren’t here. The rogue members of the Congregation who came here in May and killed Emily—”
“Gerbert and Knox aren’t rogue members!” Baldwin said, his voice rising again. “They belong to a two-thirds majority.”
“I don’t care. Telling witches, vampires, and daemons to keep to themselves no longer makes sense—if it ever did,” Marcus insisted, stony-faced. “Abandoning the covenant is the right thing to do.”
“Since when has that mattered?” Baldwin sounded tired.
“It says here that Peter Knox has been censured,” Matthew said, looking up from the document. “More than that, Knox was forced to resign. Gerbert and Satu argued that he was provoked to take action against Emily, but the Congregation couldn’t deny he played some role in the witch’s death.”
Baldwin reclaimed his seat behind his father’s desk. Though a large man, he did not seem of sufficient stature to occupy Philippe’s place.
“So Knox did kill my aunt.” My anger—and my power—was rising.
“He claims all he was doing was questioning her about Matthew’s whereabouts and the location of a Bodleian Library manuscript—which sounded very much like the sacred text we vampires call the Book of Life,“ said Baldwin. “Knox said Emily became agitated when he discovered that the Wilsons’ daughter was a witch but had two daemon parents. He blames her heart attack on stress.”