by Jeff Wheeler
“Do you think so?” the duke’s wife asked with concern.
“I hope it does,” Dunsdworth glowered. Ankarette saw that he was itching to prove himself. He had been too young to fight in the battles that had won his brother the crown. He was now of an age to win honor for himself in battle. Perhaps he was too eager, Ankarette thought.
“I do not,” Warrewik said as he shifted his intent gaze between his wife and nephew. “Listen, Anne. Dunsdworth. King Lewis is far wiser and craftier than our stripling king. He is a master of the game of Wizr. I played him often during my stay there. He has a keen mind, but I always beat him. He knows that invading Ceredigion would do nothing but rally the people to Eredur. We don’t want that, do we? No, we must delay. Bide our time. I am smarting at the deception and trickery of the king, but we are not the only ones angered by this decision. He hadn’t even told his privy council!” He shook his head in bafflement.
Isybelle nudged Ankarette’s arm. “Do you like this one?” she asked, holding out a folded ream of cloth. Ankarette was much more interested in the conversation happening across the room, but she turned an appreciative eye to the fabric and nodded enthusiastically. The last thing she wished to do was draw undue attention to herself.
“How can you bear it?” Dunsdworth sniped.
“Because we must,” the duchess said. “You must as well.”
Dunsdworth scowled and shook his head. “If I were king, I would never have treated you so poorly. You are the wisest and most capable man in Ceredigion. You are the king’s greatest supporter. Without you, he never would have worn the hollow crown. Now that he has it, he’s gone blind to the past.”
Ankarette suspected that Dunsdworth was stroking the duke’s ego deliberately, but it was obvious Warrewik relished the praise.
“That is often the case with power, lad. It does blind you.” The duke reached out and put his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “I know you would never betray me. You know I’m fond of you. I’m fond of all my nephews, even Severn.”
“He’s a goad,” Dunsdworth said acidly.
“He can be very convincing in his reasoning,” the duke countered. “But yes, his sarcasm must be endured. Patience, lad.” He squeezed Dunsdworth’s shoulder. “How many times have I told you that your thoughts create your destiny? Does a boulder stop the river from flowing? No, water finds its way around it. The Fountain delivers to us that which we secretly want. With perseverance and commitment, we may achieve all that we desire. Remember that, lad.” He gave him a piercing look, his words fraught with meaning.
Ambition burned nakedly in Dunsdworth’s eyes, just as it had that night in Dundrennan. Ankarette could see the fires there. Moreover, she could see how the duke was fanning them—how, indeed, they were encouraging each other. It made her feel uneasy.
Her attention was snagged when a panel on the wall suddenly swung open and Sir Thomas entered the room. The implication astonished her: there were tunnels behind the walls. There was so much she didn’t know about life in the palace. She hoped Sir Thomas would teach her everything.
Dunsdworth’s gaze shifted from the newcomer to Warrewik, and he gave the duke a telling nod.
Warrewik turned and clapped his hands together. “Sir Thomas, that took longer than expected. What information have you gathered about our new queen? How did they meet? She’s from Westmarch, correct? I need to speak to Lord Kiskaddon about her.”
“Greetings, my lord,” Sir Thomas said, walking up to them quickly. “Welcome back from your journey.”
“Thank you. But I want news.”
“Of course,” Sir Thomas said. “I’ve not had much time to seek it out, but—”
The duke sighed. “Sir Thomas, you’re at court. You should really try to conquer the Northern brogue.”
“Pardon, my lord. It slipped out in my enthusiasm to share the news.” His voice changed subtly, but Ankarette could tell he had to work to keep the inflection subtle. “Elyse Degriy is the daughter of Duke Deford’s wife through her second husband. Her blood is noble and still holds influence in Westmarch, which as you recall, used to be a duchy of Occitania.”
“Skip the history lesson,” the duke said archly. “How did they meet?”
“Apparently, the king took a mild detour to Hutton Manor on his way to the North when he came to visit us. He spent the afternoon at the manor, and his visit with the duchess’s daughter intrigued him. He stayed the night and then came to Dundrennan. Apparently, he and the lady were married in the early morning by the Deconeus of St. Penryn, who was summoned for the occasion.”
“St. Penryn?” the duke said, baffled. “This makes no sense. I thought Tunmore would have been involved, surely.”
Sir Thomas shook his head. “The Deconeus of Ely was ambushed by the news like the rest of us. No one knows whether the king met Lady Elyse prior to that occasion or not. I have the court historians searching the records for any petitions she may have made to the crown or any decisions levied against her husband during the Assizes after the Battle of Mortimer’s Cross. That will take some time.”
The duke’s brow furrowed. “This makes no sense. By your tale, Sir Thomas, you’d have me believe that the king happened upon the manor after losing his way, fell in a great passion for the widow, then decided to marry her against all common sense and decorum in such a hasty manner out of . . . out of lust? Is she a water sprite to have such power over a man?”
“The reports I have say she is pretty but not exotic. They say her mother is the more handsome of the two. By all accounts, it does seem rather . . . rash.”
Warrewik looked at Dunsdworth. “What do you make of it?”
Ankarette was grateful that she wouldn’t be asked any questions. It was obvious to her that Sir Thomas knew much more about the situation than he was letting on. He was playing a part, a role. Something told her the meeting of Eredur and Elyse had been no coincidence. It had been thoughtfully and deliberately planned—perhaps by Sir Thomas. And this first move on the board would be followed by others calculated to reduce the duke’s power and Eredur’s dependence on him. Ankarette knew these things were true as they flashed through her mind. But she said nothing.
Then Sir Thomas met her gaze and something unspoken passed between them—a little quirk of his mouth, the tug of a half smile, gone so quickly she may have imagined it.
“Did not the first Argentine king Henricus take another man’s wife?” Dunsdworth said. “Was that not the founding of the dynasty? She already has two sons. He’s confident she’ll beget more. I’ve not seen the girl to comment on whether her beauty distracted him. It’s probably so. He’s always had an eye for a fair damsel.” He folded his arms, his expression brooding. “The sooner he gets her with child, the sooner they might have a son.” He gave the duke a pointed look.
The duke gave him a subtle gesture to say no more. That Dunsdworth wanted to be king was emblazoned for all to see. A son would mean an heir, which would put a huge obstacle in the brother’s path to the throne.
The duke turned to Sir Thomas. “Find out more. I think Eredur will control access to her, so it may be impossible to gain useful information from the source. The Espion will continue to uncover facts about how they met and wed. It could be no more than the impetuousness of youth. But I don’t trust that the answer is so simple. Go, and bring word to me as soon as you learn more.”
“Aye, my lord,” Sir Thomas said, and departed through the secret panel by which he had entered.
“I will see you in the great hall for dinner,” the duke told Dunsdworth, squeezing his shoulder again and then patting his back. It occurred to Ankarette, not for the first time, that Warrewik had fashioned himself as a replacement father for the Argentine brothers. Only Eredur hadn’t accepted him in that role.
Dunsdworth nodded and crossed over to the ladies’ side of the room. Isybelle held up a beautiful Occitanian gown and displayed it for him.
“I like that one better,” he said, gesturing to another d
ress, one that was more extreme in style and cost. “It suits you.” He took her hand and pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles. Isybelle shivered in pleasure, watching him as he strode out the main door.
“Ankarette,” the duke called, startling her. He had walked to the open window and stood at the edge of the balcony. He gestured for her to come to him and she obeyed, her stomach twisting with nerves.
“Yes, my lord?”
He gave her a stern but gentle look. “Have you enjoyed your life in Dundrennan so far?”
“I have indeed, my lord.” She wanted to say more but thought better of it.
“While I was gone, I received reports about you from Sir Thomas. He said you noticed an intruder in the woods. He’s impressed by how quickly you’ve learned the Espion ways. He said you were discreet and observant. Those are excellent qualities. Sir Thomas is a very good judge of character. It’s one of his gifts.”
She flushed at the praise.
The duke clasped his hands behind his back and gazed out the balcony at the gardens below. Some young magnolia trees were still in bloom. She felt her nerves tightening.
“Did anyone attempt to visit Isybelle in her room at night?” he asked her softly, still not looking at her. His gaze was far away, but she sensed he was listening very closely. She also sensed that he already had an answer to the question he’d asked her. He was testing her loyalty.
Her mouth went dry. Isybelle had entertained only two nocturnal visitors in the months Ankarette had lived in Dundrennan. Both had paid her a visit on the same night.
She knew that if she hesitated too long, it would impair the duke’s trust of her.
“Yes, my lord. The Duke of Clare came one night. It was the day the king arrived.”
She waited, holding her breath, studying his reaction. She left out the part about Eredur visiting first, believing that it would compromise Sir Thomas if she said anything. It would reveal his role as Eredur’s friend and confidante. She could see the duke wasn’t truly loyal to the king, so she wasn’t sure how he would react to that.
Warrewik pursed his lips. “Thank you for being honest. Did anything . . . untoward happen?”
“No, my lord, I assure you,” she answered. “The interview was very short. There was a guard at the door—”
“I know,” he interrupted. He still didn’t look at her. “Is there anything else?”
She hesitated, feeling the danger of her situation vividly. Was he testing her still? Did he know about Sir Thomas and the king? There was no way she could know his thoughts, no way to tell whether his words were a trap. What should she say?
The strange feeling came inside her again, like the rippling of waters. It bid her to hold her tongue and say nothing.
She looked down at the ground.
Only a few seconds passed before the duke spoke again. “Very well,” he said jovially. “Thank you for your honesty, Ankarette. Anne and I will be staying in the state rooms here. Rooms adjoining ours have been provided by the chamberlain for you and my daughters. Here is a ring that I would like to give you. It is an Espion ring and will give you authority that few of your age or rank have. Sir Thomas will show you its proper use.” He reached into his pocket and then handed her the ring. It glimmered in her palm and she stared at it with fascination. “We will stay in Kingfountain for several weeks. I must show the king that he has not upset me. So must we all.” She glanced up, and he gave her a pleased, indulgent smile. “Anne tells me that you and Isybelle have formed a close bond. You are a good influence on her and she on you.”
She was about to back away from the balcony, but he gestured for her to stop.
“After we return to Dundrennan,” he said in an offhanded manner, “we may have cause to discuss some additional . . . training.” He shrugged. “You never know, Ankarette. The queen may need your midwifery services before my daughter does.”
The cunning look he gave her made her throat tighten with dread.
CHAPTER TEN
Lady Elyse
Ankarette was awakened in the black of night by the noise of a tripping latch and the soft whoosh of wind. Fear rose to choke her, for the noises were stealthy, it was well past midnight, and an intruder had entered the room. Since her experience months before when the poisoner had come to the door in the night, she had always put a dagger in an easy place to reach before retiring to bed. She groped in the dark, finding the handle of the weapon just as Sir Thomas’s face appeared above a burning taper candle from the secret door in the room.
She let out her breath in a relieved exhale and eased off the bed, trying not to awaken Isybelle.
He held up the light, and an amused smile flashed across his face when he saw Ankarette’s dagger. “You’re not intending to use that against me, are you, lass?” he whispered with a chuckle.
“Why are you here, Sir Thomas?” she asked, putting the dagger behind her.
“To fetch you,” he said, nodding for her to follow him into the darkness.
Excitement began to dance within her bosom. Ever since he’d exited one of those secret doors earlier, she’d been anxious to explore. She came closer but glanced back at her sleeping friend. “What if she awakens?”
Sir Thomas shrugged. “We won’t be long. Besides, don’t you want to see the Espion tunnels? Leave the dagger here.”
She nodded, unable to hide her eagerness, and he gestured once again for her to follow him. After she restored the dagger to its hiding place, she did follow him into the labyrinthine secret corridors. He shut the door behind her and showed her the latch he’d used to release it.
“There aren’t many of us who use the corridors at night,” he explained over his shoulder, keeping his voice low. “It’s too dark to wander them without a candle. Someone could get lost in here for hours. And with the noise of the wind and the creaking beams, it’s like as not to frighten someone out of their wits.” He looked back and gave her a crooked smile. “These secret corridors encircle the palace and provide the Espion with private access to most of the major rooms. It allows us to bypass the sentries posted at the doors.”
“I thought the Espion ring would handle that?” she said.
“Yes,” he acknowledged, “but our presence wouldn’t go unnoticed. These corridors also allow us to eavesdrop on guests and visitors. You can learn much about someone when they do not know you are watching. But at night, most people are abed and there is very little to witness, so the tunnels are typically unused. I made sure that I was assigned to wander the passages on this night.”
“Where are we going, Sir Thomas?” she asked.
“To the queen. She wants to meet you.”
The words sent a startled thrill through Ankarette. The height of the corridor was variable—sometimes she could feel drafts wafting down from above, and on other occasions they almost needed to crouch to make it beneath the angle of the stone steps above. The air was musty and stale and it tickled her throat and made her want to cough, but she suppressed the urge with her hand.
“That one leads to one of the towers,” he said, gesturing with the candle. “There are so many in this palace.”
Onward they went, weaving their way through the corridors. She tried to keep her sense of direction, but he took different byways, and despite knowing that the castle was a circular design, she couldn’t keep track. Without him, she would have been unable to find her way back.
“During the day, some light comes in through arrow slits. It’s a little easier to traverse the tunnels then. Most of the main rooms come with spy holes. Like this one.” He stopped and slid one open, motioning her forward. The spy hole opened to a darkened room, but she could make out a few chairs. “Where is this?” she asked him.
“The privy council chamber,” he said, wagging his eyebrows. “This is why Eredur had to keep his marriage a secret for so long. Even if he’d discussed the matter in private with his council, my lord duke would have found out about it.”
Ankarette turned to Sir Thomas
, her expression serious. “Running the Espion is a powerful position.”
He pursed his lips and nodded in agreement. “We have spies in nearly every kingdom and the letters arrive in heaps and stacks. The duke has a special room here called the Star Chamber. He was there until midnight tonight, crafting messages and dispatching them. I waited until he was asleep before coming to get you. This way.”
Together they continued through a serpentine passage that became increasingly narrow. It ended suddenly, no further way to go. Ankarette gazed at the bricks and wondered if there was a secret door hidden there, allowing further passage, but Sir Thomas turned to the left and indicated the spy hole and latch in front of him. He gazed into the room through the spy hole, nodded, and then opened his palm and gestured for her to open the door. She did.
She realized with some shock that she had entered the king’s private bedroom. There was a crackling fire in the hearth and it was pleasantly warm. The stale smell of the corridor had been replaced by the pleasant fragrances of flowers and tea. There was a mantel above the fireplace. A Wizr board sat near the bed, a game in play, and a scabbard and sword dangled from a chair peg by a sturdy leather belt. Eredur had tossed his clothes onto the floor for a servant to pick up later.
As Ankarette’s eyes followed the trail of clothes, she spied the king at a desk, quill in hand, wearing a nightshirt and breeches. Candles, a few wax sticks, and a gold signet ring sat on the desk. His shoulders were broad and powerful and his neck drooped with fatigue. He raked his fingers through his hair almost as if he were trying to claw himself awake.
“Ahem,” Sir Thomas coughed into his hand.
Eredur turned quickly, alerted to their presence by the noise, and quickly came to his feet.
“Tom!” he said, suddenly beaming. The smile didn’t leave his eyes when he noticed Ankarette.
“Hello again, lass. You’re in your nightrobe once more, I see, although this time I’m in my nightshirt too. We have to stop meeting at such awkward hours.”
