by Jeff Wheeler
Sinia smiled sadly. “There is only one way, my lord. And that would be to destroy the sanctuary.”
“That’s not exactly an option, is it?” the king said, bemused. Then he glanced at his blood-sister. “We have been preparing for this conflict for some time. You once told me, Lord Owen, and I believe you gained this wisdom from Ankarette Tryneowy, that the Fountain’s most valuable gift is that of discernment. We have clues about our enemy, this Gahalatine. What we need is more intelligence. Master Amrein, so far the Espion has only been able to speak to those who have been to Chandigarl. We’ve had no luck sending someone there?”
“Not yet,” came the solemn answer.
The king nodded and sniffed with frustration. “I think it’s time we sent our own emissary to Chandigarl.” His eyes shot to Morwenna. “We need to understand the character of our enemy. If the ley lines work both ways, then perhaps we should use them to our advantage as well.”
Trynne saw the look of fear in Fallon’s eyes. His teeth clenched and he took a step forward. “I will go with her. My lord king, grant my request.”
Trynne’s heart shriveled with blackness at the sight of the desperation and disquiet in Fallon’s eyes.
King Drew studied the young man but did not answer right away. He leaned back in his chair and then glanced at his wife.
Genevieve’s look was one of steel. “Impossible.”
“Sister!” Fallon seethed.
“I am speaking as your queen,” she said, rebuffing him. “To risk one life is not an easy decision. But to risk more unnecessarily?”
Fallon gripped the top of one of the chairs, clenching the wood so hard his knuckles burned white. “Remember when Severn sent Mother and Lord Owen to Atabyrion? He was dressed as one of her father’s men. Why not use such a ruse now? Morwenna has power. But we all know that if a Fountain-blessed is pushed too hard, they grow weak.” His eyes glanced quickly at Trynne and she was absolutely mortified and stung by the insinuation.
“Your argument has merit,” the king said. “But that does not imply we should send you. Take your emotion out of this, lad. There is no doubting your bravery. But you have ever been reckless.”
It was a gently given rebuke, but it clearly stung. Fallon’s eyes widened with offense, although he could not argue the point. No one who knew him well could.
“My lord,” he said pleadingly, looking miserable.
“I would hear other thoughts,” the king said, glancing around the table. “Weigh the merits of this decision. I will not risk my own sister’s life needlessly. Owen?”
The room filled with anguished silence.
Owen stared at Morwenna. So did Trynne. The poisoner looked a little fearful, but it was clear she intended to rise to the challenge of the mission. She looked confident and poised. Trynne felt vulnerable and weak.
“I think we should send her,” Owen said, his brow wrinkling. “Alone.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Broken Friendship
“Trynne!”
It was Fallon. His voice and the sound of his stride announced him as he hurried down the corridor to catch up with her. The halls of Kingfountain were bustling with servants in a state of consternation from the otherworldly display of power that had wreaked havoc on the city. The citizenry had been flocking to the sanctuary of Our Lady, some to drop coins in the water to offer thanks, others driven by the fear that the sanctuary could no longer protect them.
The king’s council had adjourned and Trynne had been instructed by her parents to return immediately to Ploemeur to ensure all was well at home. She didn’t want to return, but she was walking down the hall to the chapel fountain, her heart raging with conflict. In her hand, she squeezed the champion’s chain she had taken from Prince Elwis the day before in Brugia. She could hear the murmurings of the wellspring magic again, though faintly. Yet her failure to maintain the shield still tortured her.
She stuffed the chain necklace into her bodice to hide it from Fallon. She did not want to see him so soon. Her heart was too raw. It was clear as day that he was obsessed with Morwenna.
“I have to get back to Brythonica,” she said, turning around and giving him a dark look.
“I know, but I wanted to speak with you ere you left,” he said, pausing to catch his breath. A butler shouldered past him down the hall, earning an angry frown from Fallon.
Trynne folded her hands behind her back, squeezing her thumb sharply to distract herself from the pain in her heart. She moved aside, realizing they were causing obstacles for the palace staff, and leaned back against the cool stone wall. She looked up at him, disliking the fact that he was so tall.
He pressed his forearm against the wall and gazed down at her. “I hate how they treat us like little children,” he said in an aggrieved tone.
Trynne blinked in surprise. “We are young, Fallon.”
“I know that, but they deprive us of experience we need. Our parents were doing so much more when they were our age. I’m not afraid to go to Chandigarl. Don’t you feel we are being wronged?”
“Not really,” Trynne said truthfully.
He looked at her in annoyance, his cheek muscles twitching with suppressed anger. “They were having grand adventures. Your father went to Edonburick in disguise.”
“Only because he was Fountain-blessed,” Trynne explained. “King Severn could only trust someone who wouldn’t be deceived by the magic.”
“I know that!” he snapped. He flushed, no doubt aggrieved with himself for losing his temper, and when he spoke again, it was in a steadier tone. “I didn’t come to fight with you, Trynne. We’ve both heard the stories all our lives. But you are Fountain-blessed too. You have gifts that I cannot have, no matter how hard I work. I’ve trained and I’ve pushed myself and done everything I can do to prove myself worthy of a single, meager gift.” He shook his head. “Yet I hear nothing. Nothing.” He gazed down the hall, his expression brooding. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s even real.”
She stared up at him, surprised that he was being so vulnerable with her. But considering how he had treated her the previous day, she was determined to be frosty.
“It’s real, Fallon,” she said. “And this isn’t a game for children. If you want to be trusted, stop acting like one.”
He shot her a surprised look. “What?”
There were so many people in the corridor, many of them glancing their way, and she felt uncomfortable with all the spectators. She didn’t wish to argue with him in front of strangers.
“Admit it, Fallon. You’re only angry because they won’t let you go with Morwenna.”
“Of course I’m angry! She’s the king’s sister . . . his blood-sister, and she’s being used like a political pawn.”
“She is a political pawn,” Trynne said with annoyance. “That’s exactly what she has wanted to be.”
He looked at her in confusion. “You’re jealous of her. I cannot imagine why.”
Trynne shot him a hot look. “Because she’s beautiful and accomplished and deadly and capable. She’s like Ankarette—”
“Tryneowy,” Fallon said softly, reaching out and brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. The way he said the name made her bones want to melt, but was he referring to her or the famous poisoner?
“What?” she said sulkily, trying to hide the tremor in her voice. Why did he have to make things so difficult?
“She’s like Ankarette Tryneowy,” he said, dropping his voice lower. “That’s why you are jealous of her. But don’t you realize that she is jealous of you? Her father used to be the king, but now is a pariah who lurks in Glosstyr like it’s his prison. Her mother dotes on her older brother. Both of your parents dote on you.”
“They do not,” she stammered.
He reached down and tipped up her chin. He was looming over her, his smell washing over her, and her insides were fluttering like a mass of whirring butterflies. Was he going to kiss her? She pressed the flat of her hands against the wall to stead
y herself.
“They do,” he said with a wry smile. “And so do I. We’ve been friends since we were little children, Trynne. You are so disciplined and methodical, like a Wizr set. So stern, sometimes. You have an old soul. I’ll admit I’m too hasty and impetuous. I was an utter jack in Brugia, and I hate that I hurt you.” He stared up at the wall, shaking his head. “That feels so long ago. I’m still sporting bruises where Elwis’s lackeys punched me. They couldn’t abide me winning the Gauntlet under their noses. I’ll get my revenge. But I digress. I was trying to apologize.” He gazed down at her again. “I couldn’t stand to lose you as a friend, Trynne. Say you forgive me.”
Pressing her lips together, she gazed down at the floor and nodded, her throat too thick from the storms raging inside her to speak.
“Can I ask a favor?” he asked in a sly way.
She glanced up at him, wrinkling her brow.
“I’m going to be facing the Gauntlet of Occitania next. I want to be the first who beats them all. Would you come . . . watch me? Ploemeur is not so far from Pree. Would your mother let you? Captain Taciturn can come too, of course.”
Trynne bit her bottom lip, trying not to smile.
“Stop that,” he said.
“Stop what?”
He brushed his thumb along her lip and teased the corner of her mouth. “Stop hiding your smile. You are so self-conscious about it. You have been for years. You have a pretty, lopsided smile, Trynne.”
“I am not pretty,” she said forcefully.
“Yes you are,” he said back with a chuckle. “Why do you think I’ve always teased you so much? You are too sensitive. It has shattered your confidence for too long. So . . . will you come with me to Pree? Occitania is very different from Brugia. Or so I’ve heard; I’ve never been there. We could take the ley lines if you want?”
Someone was approaching them, and Trynne glanced over and saw that it was one of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting.
“Lady Trynne, the queen wishes to see you before you depart.”
Fallon sighed and gave the girl a dark smile. Trynne watched as the girl flushed nervously, reacting to his attention the way most women did. Fallon was undeniably handsome. Fionan—as the Atabyrions said.
“Tell my sister that Lady Tryneowy will be right there. Off with you, lass.” He waved her away rudely like a household pet.
“That was unkind, Farren Llewellyn,” Trynne said, letting herself smile.
“Cousins can be so annoying,” he quipped. Then he pinched her chin. “What’s your answer?”
“I will try,” she whispered. She had already planned on going to Pree for the Gauntlet.
“I will hold you to it,” he said. “And I will come to you so we may go there together. Tell my sister I’m leaving for Edonburick with the tide to deliver the king’s messages to our parents. Then I’ll be back in Dundrennan. You could always . . . visit me . . . you know. In fact, I wish you would. There’s nothing wrong with being a little impetuous, Trynne.”
He winked at her and then strode down the hall while her insides slowly started to calm.
When the servant announced Trynne’s arrival, Genevieve met her with a kiss. She took Trynne’s hands, brought her to the balcony doors, and the two went outside together. The rush of the falls greeted them, but the signs of the river’s destruction still scarred the land. It made Trynne’s stomach tighten.
“I do need to get back to Ploemeur,” she said. “What do you want from me, Genny?”
Genevieve gazed out over the river, her face a little pale and very serious. The queen linked arms with her.
“Do you remember when we last spoke about Oath Maidens? How I said it would be six months before we discussed it again?”
Trynne swallowed. “Yes.”
Genny turned to her. “Trynne, I don’t think we have time to waste. The threat of Gahalatine is real. He is coming. What we saw from Rucrius is just a taste of what’s to come. They have magic that’s stronger than ours. I’ve spoken to the court historian, Polidoro Urbino, and learned what I could about Chandigarl, but we still know next to nothing. I fear we cannot wait for Morwenna to complete her mission.” She sighed and looked down. Then she squeezed Trynne’s arm. “I’m going to found the order despite my husband’s hesitation. I don’t like to do things in secret, but I keep hearing Myrddin’s words over and over in my head. The Oath Maidens once protected the Argentines. The first Argentine queen was one. I believe I can trust you with this secret. I believe I can entrust you with this task.”
Tell her. It’s time. The Fountain had given her permission already.
“My lady,” Trynne said, glancing back to be sure no one else was nearby. The noise of the river and the falls would have smothered their conversation anyway. “The Fountain bids me tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“Before Myrddin disappeared, he took me to another place. It may have been another world.” She screwed up her courage. “Genny, I am already an Oath Maiden. I made the five oaths and received a blessing from the Fountain. I was tasked to protect the king.”
The queen’s eyes widened with surprise. “Tell me everything.”
The words came gushing out of Trynne all at once. She described the ceremony of the oath magic, shared the oaths she had made and how she had already been tempted to break most of them. Trynne described how the wellspring worked, including her realization that she had greater power when she acted in defense. She confessed that she had been at the Gauntlet of Brugia and had rescued Fallon, who had not recognized her.
Genny’s eyes gleamed with delight when she learned that part, and they shared a secret laugh. “So you’re the painted knight they’re all speaking of!”
Trynne went on to tell her how diminished her power had been after the Gauntlet—and how that had handicapped her when it came time to defend Kingfountain from Rucrius.
There were some confidences she did not share. She wasn’t sure if she should confide what the Fountain had whispered to her about taking a seat at the Ring Table, so she didn’t divulge that part. Nor did she say a word about her feelings for the queen’s brother. But it relieved a huge emotional burden to be able to share so many secrets.
The queen listened to her story with eagerness and asked many questions. As they spoke, their hearts knit together, strengthening the friendship they had long enjoyed.
“Trynne, you cannot understand how relieved I am to hear this news,” the queen said. “I was very disappointed when my husband wouldn’t allow me to found the order. I felt it was the right thing to do. Obviously Myrddin did as well, or he wouldn’t have chosen you before he left. Sometimes I cannot understand why the Fountain acts as it does. We need Myrddin so desperately, yet he is gone.”
Trynne stared at her and nodded thoughtfully. “He said the need was even greater elsewhere.”
The queen patted her arm. “Thank you for sharing this with me. You spoke of the conflict you’ve had within yourself. The disquiet of trying to please your mother while desiring to be like your father. You cannot reach your full potential with your soul riven apart like this. You must talk to your mother, Trynne. Lady Sinia is wise and powerful. She will understand. I know you’ve been forbidden to tell your parents certain things. But this, I think, you can say. Your heart is not in your studies. And I need you to train other girls to defend Kingfountain. Your passion is to study war. I cannot help but believe the Fountain is grooming you for this purpose, just as it called the Maid of Donremy long ago.”
Trynne’s shoulders slumped. “She will be so disappointed in me.”
Genevieve nodded. “Yes, but she’s a mother with a mother’s heart.” Her voice thickened midway through the words, and she dropped a hand to her abdomen and slowly rubbed it in a circle.
“Now it’s time that I told you my secret. One that I’ve shared with no one else. Not even the king.”
PART III
Lady
The young are hasty in falling in love. Youths always
wish to hurry romance and commit their hearts. King Drew was such and told me he wished to have a bride. By all means, marry, I told him. If you get a good wife, you’ll become happy; if you get a bad one, you’ll become a philosopher.
Myrddin
CHAPTER TWENTY
Toy Soldiers
Trynne found her mother in the castle library with her younger brother. She paused at the doorway, gazing at the pair, and was nearly brought to tears. It was past the lad’s bedtime, but there was no sign of his grandmother. No, instead her mother was nestled on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her as if she were a child again. There was a book spread open on her lap, but Gannon showed no interest in it. He was playing with lead figures on the floor instead, doing a mock battle of some sort typical of a young boy. Sinia’s fingers caressed his fair hair in a tender gesture, and Trynne could see a look of sadness on her face. Then she lifted her eyes and found Trynne in the doorway.
“Your sister is home.”
Gannon’s head shot up, and he smiled broadly at Trynne before returning to the lead toys, hunched over them with his twiggy legs and jutting elbows. He was such a spindly thing.
Trynne pushed open the door and entered, though she felt her resolve start to fracture in face of her mother’s vulnerability. Sinia looked so very spent from her miraculous conjuring at the sanctuary of Our Lady. Truly she was the unsung hero of the moment. But such a display of Fountain magic would have exhausted anyone with the gift.
Trynne came up behind the boy and then knelt to look over his shoulder. “Who is fighting?” she asked in his ear.
“Papa and King Severn,” he said innocently, clashing the pieces together. His childish words struck her with pangs, especially because of the innocence with which they were spoken. It was a story for the ages. A magical winter threatening to sheathe Ceredigion in ice. A duke who betrayed his king in order to save the people and usher in the Dreadful Deadman, the king who was prophesied to bring all the kingdoms together. Would the coming days of peril threaten to overshadow their father’s legend? Did the fallen king still fester with resentment at being overthrown? Trynne’s heart felt black at the thought.
