by Jeff Wheeler
“He’s a coward. No doubt he will stay away from you now. But that is inconsequential. There is news, Ankarette. Queen Morvared has returned to Ceredigion.”
Ankarette stared at him. “She’s at Kingfountain?”
“Not yet,” Tunmore answered. “She crossed the border into Westmarch with an army. Kiskaddon is hunkering down at Tatton Hall and isn’t opposing her. She could be in the city in days. Where is the king?”
“He’ll be landing in Crowspar today,” she replied. “We must tell the queen.”
Tunmore nodded vigorously. “The war begins. Follow me.”
When they arrived at the queen’s private quarters, they found little Elyse cooing and playing with her baby brother, who was in a wooden crib.
The queen had been writing at the small table and came to her feet, rushing to Ankarette and embracing her. Her eyes were alight with hope. “You are back sooner than I expected. Have you seen him?”
Ankarette smiled warmly and nodded. “I left him just this morning.” The queen’s fingers squeezed into Ankarette’s shoulders almost painfully. Tunmore secured the door and came closer to hear the news.
“Did he accept your plan?” the queen asked.
“He did,” she answered. “King Philip gave him several hundred soldiers and a small fleet. They would have landed in Crowspar by now. Then they will proceed to Yuork.”
The queen turned away, entwining her fingers together, and started to pace. “How long will it take for news to reach Warrewik?”
“As early as midnight by my reckoning. Dawn at the latest. His Espion are efficient.”
The queen nodded. “So few men. So few.”
“He has his brother, Lord Hastings, and Sir Thomas. The men of the North will be loyal. And once Dunsdworth joins their ranks, it will put Warrewik on the defensive.”
The queen nodded, closing her eyes as if in prayer. “So much hinges on Dunsdworth.” She sighed. “Hope is all that we have. Warrewik cannot be allowed to escape. This conflict must see an end.”
“I know,” Ankarette said soothingly. She breathed deeply. “That is why Eredur sent me back to you in Kingfountain. I’m going to the palace. If Warrewik tries to escape with the mad king, I’ve been ordered to stop them. And kill them if I must.”
The queen blanched. “You could be killed trying.”
Ankarette felt her insides flutter. “I accepted that risk when I chose to serve His Majesty. Others are risking their lives as well.” She was already worried about Thomas. So much could happen in a battle, and there would likely be more than one skirmish. Her feelings collided with her duty.
The queen came and took her hands. “Deconeus, would you make sure you have men watching the palace for signs that Warrewik is leaving with his knights?”
“Yes, my lady,” said the deconeus, bowing. “My understanding is that he is currently still there. I’ll watch for signs of his herald as well.”
“Thank you. Ankarette, rest a moment before you go.” The queen gave her a concerned look.
After the deconeus left, the queen steered her to a small couch and sat beside her. “You look different, Ankarette. Did something happen in Brugia? Something you’re not telling me?”
The queen was so observant to the moods of others. She touched Ankarette’s shoulder with sympathy, entreating her to confide more about her visit.
“If you’re worried about Eredur, he is in good health,” she said. “Marq is a beautiful city, but he’s been undeniably restless to leave. No one feels as much urgency to act as he does. He’s worried about you and the children.”
“That is comforting,” Elyse answered. “But there’s more. I can see it in your eyes.”
Ankarette looked down at her hands in her lap. Her throat bulged and she felt tears prick her eyes. She did not wish to burden the queen with her private concerns—and yet she did wish to talk about it. To confide her dearest thoughts and worries to someone.
“It’s nothing,” she said softly.
“Tell me,” the queen pleaded.
Ankarette tried to rally herself, tried to subdue the conflagration inside her. “I learned while I was there that Thomas—Sir Thomas—has harbored some feelings . . . for me. I wasn’t expecting it.”
The queen nodded in understanding. Then a pleased, relieved smile spread across her mouth and she enveloped Ankarette in a hug. “I’ve long suspected it,” the queen confided after pressing a kiss on her cheek.
Ankarette pulled back in surprise.
“I’ve known that you care for him for some time,” the queen said, stroking her shoulder. “But I’ve seen hints of his feelings as well. I might have guessed it before he knew it himself.”
“Does the king know?” Ankarette asked, feeling her heart swelling again to outsized proportions.
“We’ve never spoken of it,” she said. “Men usually aren’t that observant. But Eredur values you both. He’s confided to me that he would like to put Thomas in charge of the Espion permanently. Only Sir Thomas doesn’t want the charge. The two of you work very well together.”
Ankarette felt the blush creeping on her cheeks. “I wasn’t intending to trouble you.”
Elyse took her hands and patted them. “You have done so much for my family, Ankarette. I know there are many obstacles. But you could do much worse than Thomas Mortimer. He has been Eredur’s friend for many years. We will both be worrying about the ones we love in the days ahead.” She closed her eyes and let out an anxious breath. “So much uncertainty we have to endure. If my husband fails, I have nowhere I can go. I worry that I’ll be trapped in this sanctuary forever.”
Ankarette felt a throb of compassion. She touched the queen’s sleeve. “Whatever happens, I’ll do my best to serve you.”
Elyse offered a resigned smile. “We will not pretend. Not with each other. This could end badly. I’m frightened, Ankarette,” she added in a very low voice, glancing at her daughter and infant son. “But I must be brave for them. And so must you. Thomas is probably worrying as much about you as you are about him. War is the great uncertainty. It’s not always a matter of who has the most soldiers or the most loyal followers. Warrewik is rich, and yet people distrust him now because of what he’s done. Once you’ve sold your integrity, you cannot buy it back.”
She looked down and then over at Ankarette. “Part of me is tempted to ask you to intercede now. Our troubles might end with Warrewik’s death. But Eredur wishes to win his victory on the field, to prove to all that his claim to the hollow crown is legitimate. He feels he must fight his uncle. So we will obey his command because he is the king. This must end, one way or another.”
After nightfall, Ankarette made her way back to the palace of Kingfountain. As she surmised, the duke was short on Espion at the moment, for he was trying to run a kingdom through his spies. She made it to the secret tunnels and walked in them without any source of light, having long since memorized the layout. The cook, Liona, had offered her food and shelter in her own room during the remaining daylight hours. As the night stretched out, Ankarette roamed the interior of the palace. She found herself outside the king’s council chamber, watching Warrewik from the spy hole as he made his way through the huge stack of letters on his desk.
She waited patiently, listening to the sound of his breathing, his snorts of disgust as he read certain missives. His scribe was busy scrawling letters and issuing orders. He had no idea she was watching him.
It was midnight when the courier arrived. Ankarette held perfectly still.
“He’s landed,” the man said breathlessly, wiping sweat from his brow.
Warrewik flinched but otherwise kept his composure. “Where?”
The man was gasping for breath. “He’s in the North. Landed at Crowspar and then went to Yuork. He claims”—he took a big swallow of air—“that he only seeks what is his, the right to the duchy of Yuork. The mayor opened the city gates.”
Warrewik was on his feet then, his face white as cheese. “How did—wha
t did you say?”
“Eredur’s claiming to be the Duke of Yuork. Nothing more. He concedes the throne.”
“And the mayor believed him? He’s not a fool. How could he fall for such a blatant trick?” He whirled and scattered the letters from the top of the desk with a sweep of his arm. “He betrayed me! Fetch my herald. It’s time to summon my son-in-law from Clare. We have to stop this. Eredur cannot stay in Yuork another day. I said get my herald!”
Ankarette smiled and watched as the courier bolted out of the chamber.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The Bridge
There was fear in Warrewik. It shone in his eyes, in his sallow skin, and in the nervous pacing that Ankarette observed through the spy holes as he prepared to confront Eredur in battle. He knew his soldiers and knights outnumbered his opponent’s Brugian mercenaries. Queen Morvared was coming from Westmarch. He had dispatched Espion immediately to hasten them to Kingfountain, to hold the capital while he dealt with his rival. For Warrewik had no illusion that Eredur had truly abdicated the throne. Both men knew that only blood would heal the breach between them.
The next morning, Warrewik prepared to depart. He left his duchess in charge of the palace and charged his lieutenant, Robert Conyers, with keeping her safe. When Ankarette saw Sir Robert through the spy hole, she remembered how he had been sent to Marshaw to ensure Ankarette’s obedience. He had the same ruthless expression in his eyes, the cunning that had made him so useful to a man of ambition like Warrewik.
“I’m bringing the bulk of the army with me to the North,” Warrewik said, planting his hands on the table. He tried to project confidence, but Ankarette could hear the tremor in his voice. “This is Eredur’s last gambit. He knew he would lose Ceredigion if he didn’t strike before Morvared’s return. Once she is reunited with the mad king, everything will change. I want you to make sure that her people do not infest the palace. Keep an eye open for Lord Hux, Lewis’s herald. I’m expecting him after Morvared hears the news. She’d better not tuck tail and run back to Occitania with her brat.”
Robert chuckled. “He hasn’t wet his sword yet,” he said, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter what she says—he’s itching for a fight. In fact, he won’t want you to defeat Eredur without him. The lad wants the glory for himself.”
Warrewik snorted. “I don’t care what he wants. The longer Eredur is ashore, the more of a threat he becomes. More and more of the disaffected will rally to him. I’ve sent orders for ships to throng the coast by Crowspar. I don’t want him escaping this time.”
“Like you did before,” Sir Robert said snidely.
Warrewik bristled. “I had no choice. You are the temporary castellan of Kingfountain. Serve me well, Sir Robert, and there are more honors in store for you.”
The man’s eyes lit up with greediness and he bowed with as much respect as money could buy.
“Now I’m off to the North. Dunsdworth hasn’t wet his sword yet either, and he’ll be chafing for the chance. I can’t tell you what a relief it’s been not to have him nagging me constantly like he did in Occitania. I miss my eldest daughter, but I’ve grown weary of his complaining.”
“You can’t expect a dog robbed of a bone not to howl,” Sir Robert opined. “Dunsdworth will learn soon enough that honor is won through blood. The kind that is shed, not the kind that flows in his veins. He wanted to be a king, but he did nothing to earn it.”
Warrewik stared down at the table, conflict raging in his expression. He squeezed his fist and looked as if he’d hammer the table with it. Instead, he butted it against his mouth, nearly trembling. “We can do this, Sir Robert. Once Eredur is dead, our problems are ended. Morvared won’t find me a weak-willed pup to command at her whim. I will decide who wears the hollow crown.” His eyes shot to Sir Robert. “She will learn that soon enough. They will all learn that.”
Ankarette was impressed at his capacity for self-delusion. He didn’t see the trap about to be sprung. She had the conviction that he would never step foot in Kingfountain again.
“Aye, my lord,” Sir Robert said, nodding. He smiled with the look of a man ready for the violence of war. His eagerness was palpable.
Ankarette loathed him.
The palace was in an uproar. Ankarette had hunted Warrewik’s loyal Espion down, one by one, rendering each man into a helpless state of misery. She had enjoyed poisoning Sir Robert in secret and watching as it took effect. He had begun acting the part of the tyrannical overlord the moment Warrewik left, even going so far as to make inappropriate comments to the duchess. The poison she had administered to him had given him the bloody flux. Not enough to kill him, but enough to make him lose fluids from every orifice. Some were fearful he had the plague. Without his leadership, the palace staff went into anarchy.
And then word arrived of Dunsdworth’s betrayal. Ankarette relished the news of how the Duke of Glosstyr and Duke of Clare had met each other as if to battle, only to fall into ranks with each other and swell Eredur’s army to an impressive size. It still left Isybelle in danger, but Ankarette planned to remedy that and set her friend free. The shock of the turnabout was on the lips of every servant. People were astounded. There was cheering in the streets and at the sanctuary of Our Lady. The true king would return and depose the mad man who gibbered in his rooms and spoke to the air and giggled at nothing.
It was midafternoon and she was eating in the kitchen with Liona when she felt the presence of Fountain magic enter the palace. Ankarette had been expecting him to arrive eventually and she had rallied several of the Espion loyal to Eredur to help her in case it happened. She’d left some at the sanctuary and some watching the bailey.
None of the Espion had warned her of his arrival.
“What is it, lass?” Liona said, noticing her change of countenance.
Ankarette’s stomach churned with dread. “Lord Hux is back,” she said softly. “Bolt the doors of the kitchen until I return. Do not let him in here.”
Liona hurried to the door while Ankarette slipped into the secret passageway. Though she still feared Lord Hux, she was determined to capture or kill him. It would remove a valuable piece from the Wizr board.
As she traversed the tunnels, she tried to discern his position. She was so tempted to use her magic to help her, but knew that doing so would reveal her presence to him. Was he deliberately alerting her to his presence? Or was he in too much of a hurry to interfere in the conflict?
His presence had stopped moving, and she found herself approaching the royal chambers. It was the place where the mad king was confined. She gritted her teeth. He could not be allowed to free the prisoner and escape with him.
When she arrived outside the chamber, she carefully opened the spy hole. She sensed Lord Hux in the room, his power jabbing at her senses in a way that increased her fear. Her palms were sweating. She had already readied a dagger with poison on the tip.
Squinting, she gazed into the room and saw Lord Hux kneeling before the mad king, whose wispy hair was more gray than blond now. “I cannot bring you with me, my lord king,” said Lord Hux in a reverent voice. “Her Majesty, the queen, bids me tell you that she has ever loved and cared for you. That your rightful son and heir will rule this realm in your stead. She is sorry it must be this way.”
Ankarette’s magic flared within her. It rose involuntarily. She sensed Hux’s intention of poisoning the king—of laying the blame for his death on Eredur’s shoulders. It would give the prince the rightful title and remove the mad king as an obstacle. She felt the fiery certainty rise inside her in a surge of magic.
Lord Hux turned to the wall, his eyes narrowing, his gaze as cold as ice.
Ankarette opened the door and entered the room. She didn’t have any of the Espion guards with her. She was alone with him. It had come to this.
“I thought you would come, my dear,” he said with a glimmer in his eye.
The mad king turned and looked at Ankarette in confusion. “Mumble voth? Zands!”
&
nbsp; His words were always gibberish to her.
“The Espion are closing in,” Ankarette said, bluffing, striding forward. “You are not getting out of the palace alive, Lord Hux.”
The quirk of a smile twitched on his mouth. “I came here alive. And I will leave here alive. I don’t wish to harm you, Ankarette. Or the ones that you care for. You’ve taken a fancy to Thomas Mortimer, I know. I can arrange things to benefit you both in Occitania. Otherwise, I promise you, he will die in the battle that is coming. And so will your king.”
“The Fountain takes who the Fountain wills,” Ankarette said, shaking her head. “You offer me something you cannot give. I serve Ceredigion. And I always will.”
“Alas for you,” Lord Hux said.
Ankarette threw her dagger at him. She watched it go straight for his heart, but the poisoner grabbed it midair, clenching it in his fist. She gaped at him, wondering what kind of practice he had endured to be able to do that.
He glanced at the blade. “So you were intending to kill me,” he said in a dispassionate tone.
Ankarette twisted her poisoned ring to expose the needle. Her heart was racing, but she continued to let the magic course through her, making her stronger.
“I don’t have orders to kill you,” he said. “But if he must die, best it come from your hand.”
He raised her dagger and prepared to plunge it into the breast of the mad king. Ankarette rushed forward, closing the distance. With one hand, she shoved the mad king to the floor. She blocked the thrust with her other forearm, and the two poisoners began fighting in earnest.
There was no time for a plan. She could rely only on her instincts, honed at the poisoner school in Pisan. She had done well in knife fighting and hand-to-hand combat. But Lord Hux was a more skilled fighter. She tried clawing at his face, only to find the edge of his palm at her throat, crushing her windpipe. She choked in pain, unable to breathe, but still she fought, thrashing against him with arms, legs, and fingers. There were no more subtle jests, no provoking. She wanted to kill him. She did her best to defeat him.
