The Thief's Daughter

by Jeff Wheeler

  —Polidoro Urbino, Court Historian of Kingfountain

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Refuge

  A shower of glass and fragments of wood preceded Owen’s departure from the bay window. He had deliberately placed himself there, realizing it afforded him the most expeditious way to retreat from the manor. Shouts from behind heralded the arrival of his pursuers, and he wasted no time in drawing his sword and dashing for the front of the manor, where, he hoped, they had untethered the horses from the carriage.

  Using his Fountain magic, he sent a thought hurtling through the air at Etayne. We must go. Now!

  As he rounded the corner, he saw that both of the carriage horses were free, and the servant with the whip was standing by them, his eyes wide with concern at the sudden commotion. The front door was wrenched open, and two men with swords emerged, coming at a sprint to head off Owen.

  The servant with the whip blanched and fit his own foot into one of the stirrups and hoisted himself onto the mount, then started whipping it violently on the flanks to get himself as far away as possible. That left one horse for Owen and Etayne.

  As he ran toward the confused beast, he realized he could be pulled out of the saddle before he had the chance to escape, so he changed his tactics. Instead of fleeing the two men, he charged them. Hours and hours at the training yard came rushing back to him in a whirlwind. He didn’t slow down at all as he rushed toward the nearest man and raised his sword for a downward thrust. Changing tactics at the last moment to catch the man off guard, he leaped forward instead, his boot connecting with the man’s stomach so hard the man nearly backflipped and landed on his face.

  The other Atabyrion lunged at Owen, and their blades connected. Owen parried twice, then dropped low and sliced the man’s leg at the knee. There was a jet of blood, but Owen was not trying to amputate his leg, only cripple him and prevent him from pursuing them.

  Kathryn is drugged. The thought came from Etayne. I’m going to poison Eyric’s gloves to incapacitate him.

  No! Owen thought back. He stared briefly at the farthest part of the building, the one half-overgrown with foliage. Get out here! Meet me there. He knew that she could see the vision of it in her mind.

  This may be my only chance! Etayne thought back angrily. I cannot fail this mission!

  He could sense the determination in her thoughts. She had been trained by the very best poisoners in Pisan, and she did not want her first major assignment to bring her shame. Owen also realized, however, that if he left without her, it was probable she would be caught and killed. Ankarette had been tormented with guilt after accidentally poisoning the wife of her intended victim. Haste was dangerous.

  Listen to me, Etayne! Owen thought back. He reached the horse and swung up into the saddle as the guards rounded the end of the manor and rushed at him. He slapped the horse’s flank with the flat of his blade to get it moving. His heart was thundering in his ears at the closeness of his pursuers. Get out here. Now! I’ll circle back for you!

  No, my lord. I’ll steal a horse and meet you at Edonburick. I can get Eyric. I know I can. Let me try!

  Owen’s mount was starting to gallop, and Owen had to hold tight with his knees and ride low against the horse’s neck. One of the men sprinted after him. He was quite a runner, but even he could not outrun a horse. Owen stared back at him, smiling as the gap widened. The man quit the pursuit, hurling an epithet after him.

  It’s no good, Etayne. They know who I am now. We’re leaving as soon as we get back to Edonburick. I’m not going to leave you behind. Now quit being stubborn and get outside! Don’t make me come in there to fetch you.

  He could sense a hive of black thoughts. Yes, my lord.

  Owen circled back, bringing his horse into the trees for cover. He wondered whether he had done the right thing in revealing himself to Eyric. He grit his teeth, angry that the man was too afeared of his uncle to accept Owen’s words. He was angry, but he knew he shouldn’t be surprised. The man had been trained his whole life to fear Severn, to mistrust him. And now he had a beautiful wife who was the daughter of Atabyrion’s wealthiest earl. What promises had he made to her? What promises had he made to everyone else? No, Owen realized that it had been naive for him to believe he had even the slimmest chance to change his mind. But he also couldn’t stomach the thought of murdering him, especially since he knew the king’s own feelings argued against it. He was an enemy to Ceredigion, but he was no traitor. He had a claim on the throne, if a weak one. Like Etayne, Owen was troubled by the thought that he’d failed in his mission. He had come to prevent a war. And from the way things were shaping up, he’d probably contributed to starting one instead.

  Where are you? he thought, reaching out to Etayne. The trees ghosted past him, and the horse was tense and nervous, snorting angrily at its rider.

  Silence.

  Owen’s heart thrummed with worry. He could see part of the estate through the trees ahead. He’d taken his mount into the woods on the side closest to the ivy-thick edge he had shown her in his mind. If he got too close, he would be seen. He reached out with his senses, listening, and heard the sound of men and horses. Through the trees, he could see Eyric was in the front of the manor, talking to the guards. Groomsmen were bringing up horses from the stables, one at a time. Owen wiped the sweat from his upper lip. Eyric was going to ride after him. He could hear the murmuring of voices, but at this distance, they were indistinguishable even to him.

  Etayne! he thought again, gritting his teeth.

  No answer.

  His horse snorted loudly, and Owen frowned, hoping the sound had not been heard over the ruckus. “Where are you?” he muttered angrily, staring at the manor, feeling the hard saddle beneath him.

  Then he saw her slipping out the rear door of the ivy-choked house. Suddenly there was a scream and a shout. “Over here! There’s one of ’em here! She just left out the back! Hurry!”

  The men milling around the entrance came running. One of the guards was mounted, and he kicked his beast into a trot.

  Owen saw Etayne slip into the woods, wearing a pale white gown, Atabyrion in style. It was one of Kathryn’s gowns. He clicked his tongue and whistled, and her eyes darted over to him. A look of relief crossed her face, and he met her partway. Reaching down, he took her hand and swung her up into the saddle behind him.

  “Why didn’t you answer me?” he snarled at her.

  She shook her head, her expression darkening. “I couldn’t hear you. My magic . . . my magic failed.” There was an exhausted look on her face and she swayed a little in the saddle. Now he understood. She had expended her power in trying to maintain her illusion for too long. Her capacity would grow with time and practice. He realized that if she’d stayed behind, she would likely have fallen unconscious.

  “I’m glad you listened to me,” he said with maybe a bit too much self-satisfaction.

  “In the trees! Over there!”

  “I see them!”

  The voices startled Owen and Etayne.

  He sighed. “Hold on to me tightly. I want to get to Edonburick before Eyric.”

  Etayne nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist, tightening her grip on her wrists. “Thank you,” she whispered. The look in her eyes was revealing, vulnerable. He smiled at her and turned away, wondering what she was thinking. In truth, he was afraid of what the look meant. She was the daughter of a thief, a sanctuary man. He was the Duke of Westmarch.

  And his heart belonged to an earl’s daughter.

  “I don’t understand why you must depart so quickly,” Iago said as they walked down the many wooden steps leading to the docks. Owen was a few steps behind, watching Evie and the king as they walked ahead of him. “Surely you can wait until tomorrow? I thought you wanted to see Eyric and Kathryn yourself?”

  “I did, my lord,” Evie said evasively. “But I received an urgent summons back to Kingfountain. I must depart at once.”

  Iago looked upset. “What does that mean? Why would
Severn want you back so quickly? I was really enjoying our walk today and felt we were making strides. You’re a remarkable woman. I was expecting your stay to be much longer.”

  “I must go,” Evie said. She glanced back at Owen with worry in her eyes. She knew about the disaster that had unfolded at Eyric’s lodge, so she was just as eager as he was to seek refuge back in Ceredigion. They did not have much time to take their leave. Iago looked like a disconsolate puppy. Owen wanted to kick him. Etayne had ventured ahead to tell the captain to make ready.

  They reached the bottom tier of the docks. The sound of the waterfall made soft communication difficult, so Iago raised his voice. “When can I see you again?”

  Evie looked flustered by the persistence of his attentions. “I don’t know, my lord,” she stammered. There was some noise from higher up on the platforms. Evie glanced up, and her face went pale. “Well, it seems you have some court business that requires your attention. I thank you for your hospitality.”

  Iago turned and looked back up the ramps. Men were waving down and shouting, but their words were lost in the noise. Iago frowned in annoyance. Evie was about to walk down the pier toward the ship, but Iago caught her arm. She stared at him, her eyes blazing with the fear of being caught.

  “I wanted you to know,” Iago said, stepping toward her. He gently took her hand with both of his. “That I have given sincere thought to Severn’s offer. Of a truce between our kingdoms. I can’t tell you how tempted I am.”

  The words sickened Owen. He grit his teeth, scowling, wanting to be away from Atabyrion and their peculiar customs and fashions. He wanted to be back in his own realm, his own kingdom, wearing his own badge. Iago wasn’t looking at him, but he stared at him heatedly all the same.

  Evie was silent, her cheeks a little flushed.

  “I am bound by honor to help Eyric. I wish I had met you prior to giving my oath. But I promise you, Lady Mortimer,” he added with a devious grin, “that I consider you a friend. That I will speak on your behalf when Eyric rules.” He brought her knuckles to his mouth. His look was suddenly vulnerable as he gazed at her. “You have the most bewitching eyes,” he murmured softly, and Owen nearly rammed him off the pier into the fish-soiled waters.

  “I truly must go,” Evie said, trying to pull her hand away.

  Iago nodded and released her hand. She started to turn and leave. Then, in an act of pure impetuousness, he strode up and caught her shoulders, brought his mouth down on hers, and kissed her right there on the docks, in front of everyone—in front of Owen. It was one of those claiming kisses, the kind that makes girls swoon and invokes murderous jealousy.

  Startled by it, Evie quickly pushed him back. “My lord!” she scolded, her cheeks stained with crimson. “That was . . . presumptuous!” She wiped a hand over her mouth.

  “I know,” Iago said, grinning like a fool. “I’m reckless. I take risks. And I wanted you to remember me. Farewell, my lady. Until we meet again.” He bowed graciously.

  There were some whistles and catcalls from the docks and—much to Owen’s vexation—Iago Llewellyn seemed to bask in them. When Owen looked at Evie, she was staring after the king.

  She sighed and shook her head, and she and Owen started up the ramp. She gave him a pointed look. “That’s how it’s done properly, by the way,” she said to him.

  Owen was mortified. His heart burned with feelings too savage to describe. His ears were hot, his cheeks flushed, and he knew he would never scrub the memory of that kiss out of his mind. It was Evie’s first kiss. He knew that. And it had not been with him.

  As the captain ordered the sailors to shove off, Etayne approached them worriedly. She wore a cloak to cover the gown she had taken from Lady Kathryn.

  “What is it now?” Owen asked with concern, seeing the look in her eyes. They had separated as soon as they arrived in Edonburick from the Ardanays and had not spoken since.

  “I went down into the hold to check on Bothwell,” Etayne said softly in his ear. “He was gone. I found Clark in the cell instead. Bound, gagged, and unconscious.”

  Owen’s eyes widened. “He’s down below? He never made it back to Kingfountain?”

  Etayne shook her head. “I assume not. Which means Severn may already be dead.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Seasons

  On board the ship Vassalage, sails billowing with the wind, Owen paced as he watched Justine tending to Clark’s injury, a particularly nasty gash on the back of his head that had left him unconscious and with a hazy memory. Etayne’s look was dark with worry and dread about the escaped prisoner. Poisoners were renowned for their sense of revenge, so she had much to fear from the man who had escaped.

  Clark sat on a barrel in the hold, wincing with pain. The lantern swayed with the rocking motion of the ship. Evie watched in worried fascination as Justine treated the Espion.

  “You can remember nothing else?” Owen pressed, trying to subdue his agitation. He felt as if they were being thwarted at every turn, and he did not like the thought of being outmaneuvered in any game, let alone the realities of life, especially not when his king’s life was at risk.

  Clark tolerated the pain of Justine’s ministrations with perfect patience, although his fingers were digging into the barrel lid and the tendons were standing out on his hands. “I didn’t see who hit me. Someone was crumpled on the floor in the yonder cage.” He motioned with one of his hands. “I called out to rouse him, and then I was struck from behind. The next thing I knew, I awoke bound and gagged, with thunder in my head. I know I missed my transport back to Ceredigion. The captain surely left without me when I didn’t show up.” He frowned with melancholy. “After this, I’ll be assigned duty to watch over Dunsdworth again,” he complained bitterly. “And I deserve it.”

  “Nonsense,” Owen said, rubbing his chin.

  “The important thing,” Evie said consolingly, “is they didn’t kill you.”

  Justine’s head jerked up, her eyes blinking wildly. She flushed a bit and then started back to work.

  “Thank you, lass,” Clark mumbled to her.

  “It’s quite all right,” Justine replied, looking embarrassed.

  “Someone has been playing us for fools,” Owen said after a lengthy pause. “The problem is, there are too many people who wish us harm. The king has too many enemies.”

  “Including his nephew,” Etayne said darkly.

  Evie looked at the poisoner. “Tell me more about what happened when you went to see Eyric.”

  Feeling restless energy rush through him, Owen thumped his fist against one of the deck struts. He glanced at Etayne, whose eyes were downcast. She believed she had failed in her mission. He could tell she was also worried about what Mancini would do to her. Owen was more concerned with finding out the true allegiance of the leader of the Espion.

  “I believe Eyric is who he says he is,” Owen declared. “And I know that Severn would not have wanted him to be murdered in Atabyrion.” He shook his head firmly. “That Eyric survived is nothing short of a miracle from the Fountain. I’ve known the king half my life, and he is still troubled by the murders of the princes. And Lady Elyse will be thrilled to learn that her brother is alive. No, we did the right thing in sparing his life.”

  Etayne’s eyes, and the expression on her mouth, spoke that she felt otherwise. “Yet he’s going to invade Ceredigion to claim the throne. You can have no illusions about that.”

  “I don’t,” Owen said, agreeing with her. “Just as I believe Iago Llewellyn will join him in the invasion. We’ve wounded his pride, and he is a proud man.” The last comment he fired at Evie.

  “Also a desperate one,” Evie said, taking the blow without retaliating. “His kingdom is nearly bankrupt; his nobles are all scheming. But Iago doesn’t understand the might of his enemy. He’s like a man who gambles on a throw of the dice. He risks much to gain much, but he doesn’t realize that the outcome isn’t up to chance. It’s a matter of mettle. And I don’t think Iago’s
matches King Severn’s. But I understand why he’s facing the hazard. In his mind, the opportunity for reward is too great. The chance to get out from beneath the thumbs of his nobles.”

  Owen didn’t like the man personally, but he agreed with her assessment. “Well, as Mancini likes to say: Two can throw the dice in a game of chance.”

  “You can’t throw dice if you are dead,” Etayne said broodingly, reminding them all that the risk Severn faced wasn’t just on the battlefield.

  The comment made them all sulk in despair for a moment.

  “I’ve done all that I can,” Justine said after a moment, wiping her hands on the towel she had used.

  “Thank you, my lady,” Clark offered in a humble tone.

  She smiled at the praise and then followed her mistress back toward their private room. Evie motioned for Owen to join them and he did. The steps leading out of the hold were steep and narrow, and it was dark when they reached above deck. The stars were shining through the windows like a swarm of tiny fireflies. They conferred with the first mate, who informed them that the journey back would take less time because the wind was at their backs. He hoped to reach Kingfountain before dinner the following day.

  Evie’s chamber seemed much too small to Owen. Everything about the ship was cramped, like the cage in the hold, but the physical size wasn’t the real issue. Owen was restless. He felt his life was becoming more confined and restrictive, and he longed to burst the bands of duty and obligation, to be free. But he would not risk losing everything he had acquired in a rash act of rebellion. Loyalty binds me.