by Jeff Wheeler
Etayne looked interested. “Indeed. For what purpose?”
Owen dropped his hand and shook his head. “To start another war.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The Prince’s Widow
Severn had spared no expense in indulging Eyric’s disenfranchised bride. Lady Kathryn had her own private rooms in the palace, furnished with the best couches, sitting room chairs, and tapestries that the king’s prodigious coffers could bestow. She had handmaidens, although she regularly dismissed them to attend to more important things. She also spent as little time as possible in the private rooms, always seeking opportunities to minister to the lowlier castes. The people had taken to calling her the Prince’s Widow for her persistent widow’s weeds.
Owen arranged the meeting for her sitting room, and had Etayne join them. The poisoner quickly opened and inspected the secret doors and spy holes where the king could covertly watch the meeting. That was another reason Lady Kathryn did not enjoy spending time in the rooms. Although she knew about his penchant for watching her secretly, she had to pretend otherwise.
After Etayne nodded that the room was secure from eavesdroppers, Lady Kathryn’s expression wilted with anxiousness.
“How is he?” she whispered nervously. He wasn’t sure who she was referring to—her husband or her son.
“Your husband is enduring as bravely as he can,” Owen said dejectedly. Being with her always made him uneasy. He was the one who had deceived Eyric into leaving sanctuary and had arrested him. Lady Kathryn had never forgotten that, and while she appreciated his intercessions, her look was always wary and distrustful. “I brought this for you.”
He dropped the book on the table. It was the one he had taken from Holistern Tower. Eyric left her little messages scribbled in the margins of the book. To someone picking it up, the words were crafted in a way to make it look like he was making notes or commenting on passages that were meaningful to him. But when he underlined words about love and affection, they were the jailed man’s only way of expressing his feelings for his wife.
Kathryn’s eyes filled with emotion, and she reverently lifted the book and pressed it to her breast. “Thank you, Owen,” she said sincerely. “I know you risk a great deal helping us.”
He shrugged and sighed, watching Etayne as she examined one of the globes on the table against the far wall. “I do what I can. I’ve also come from North Cumbria. The boy is healthy. He’s a strapping lad. Very guarded and serious. He has your eyes.”
She blinked quickly, trying to master her emotions again. “When can I see him? Is there any way you can arrange it? It might kill me, but I would give anything just to tousle his hair.”
Owen shook his head. “That’s not likely to happen anytime soon, Kathryn. Lord Catsby has been named Duke of North Cumbria.”
Kathryn blanched. “You cannot be serious. That is dreadful news. What does that mean for the Queen of Atabyrion? I thought she would be the heir!”
“So did she,” Owen said darkly. “But Severn won’t trust one person with too much power. Even though she’s Horwath’s heir, she’s also Iago Llewellyn’s wife, and the king would rather enrich his own supporters than bolster a potential rival.”
Kathryn’s eyes narrowed with anger. “It is unjust.”
“As you’ve already learned for yourself, the world has been that way for quite some time. There is little I can do about it. The decision was made before I even arrived. Catsby is already making an oaf of himself. But I came here with a particular favor to ask of you.”
She gave him a startled look. “Whatever can I do? I’m a prisoner here.”
“Trust me, you should prefer this cell to the one in which Eyric sits.”
She flushed and shook her head. “I would rather stay in that drafty tower with him.”
Owen believed she meant it. “It’s not drafty, Kathryn. It’s not like it was with Tunmore. If there were a way to bring you both together, you know I would. Some of the Espion are loyal to me, but I can’t trust that they all are.”
“What is this favor you spoke of?”
He swallowed. “The king fears that Iago may be a risk in the short term, following his decision. So he’s bringing another hostage to join the palace. Iago and Elysabeth’s eldest, their daughter, Genevieve. She’s taken a fancy to your son,” he added with a bittersweet smile. “They have been playfellows. Severn will bring her to the palace. I was wondering if you would look after her. She may be frightened being so far away from Edonburick.”
Kathryn’s expression changed to one of sympathy and delight. “Of course I will! Dear child, of course! I will do all that I can to help her. Thank you, Owen, for thinking of me. It would help me endure the loneliness better.”
Owen smiled, pleased by her reaction. “Thank you. Now for the bitter tidings.” He started to pace, as he usually did while mulling through all of his problems. How best to introduce the next bit of news?
“I don’t like your countenance,” she told him worriedly.
“You shouldn’t,” he said with a grunt. “The king has ordered Etayne and me to leave the palace. In fact, we’ll be leaving the kingdom shortly on a mission of . . . oh, how should we put this?” He gave Etayne a pleading look.
“Diplomacy,” she supplied with a smirk.
“That’s as good a word as any other. I’m going to threaten the Duchess of Brythonica. Etayne was ordered to go with me.”
Kathryn’s face blanched and then she started to tremble. “You’re leaving me alone with him,” she said in a subdued, terrified voice.
The look on her face made his stomach twist into knots. “Yes, I’m afraid that’s true,” he said softly.
Kathryn walked a few steps to a table and planted her palms on the flat surface, her shoulders quivering. “Both of you must go?” she asked pleadingly.
“The king orders it,” Owen said helplessly. “I do not think we will be gone for long. You must be strong, Kathryn. You know the king has power in his voice. You must not let him touch you, even for a moment.”
Her eyes were squeezed shut. “You don’t know what it’s like,” she whispered thickly. “It’s all I can do to keep my wits about me when he’s near. Etayne is so much better at deception.” She opened her eyes and turned, looking pleadingly at the poisoner. “I’m not as strong as you are.”
Etayne looked at her sadly. “You must be, Kathryn. You must stand up to him on your own.”
Kathryn looked as if she would collapse on the floor. “The only thing that keeps me from succumbing,” she whispered, “is imagining my son with the crown on his head.” Her breath started to quicken. “I can’t do this. I can’t endure it!”
Etayne shot Owen a worried look as he stood there helplessly and then she gave him a look that said he was being about as helpful as a brick. Etayne walked up to Kathryn and held her, gently stroking her back, the black silk fabric rustling softly.
“You can deceive him,” Etayne said soothingly. “I know it’s against your nature. But you must do it. You must practice. When he comes to visit you, you always stiffen up and become so distant. Be courteous. I’m not asking you to flirt with him. But smile. Stop looking at him as if he’s a beast.”
“He is a beast,” Kathryn whispered desperately. “Even though the deconeus pronounced the marriage invalid, I told the king it was valid to me. Yet he persists in lavishing gifts. He’s determined to conquer me. I can’t . . . I can’t endure much more of this.” She gave Owen a pleading look, her cheeks wet with tears. “I’m breaking apart inside. I don’t need wealth. I don’t desire to be queen anymore. I miss Atabyrion with all my heart. Can you not just find a little cottage somewhere? A place where Eyric and Andrew and I can be a family together?” She broke away from Etayne’s embrace and gestured to the opulent chamber. “I do not need any of this! I’d be happier as a fisherman’s wife in Brugia than here. Please, Owen! Can you not make us disappear?”
Every time he met with Kathryn, it pained him more and more. “Do
you think there is anywhere I could hide you that Severn wouldn’t discover?” he asked her coldly. “There is always someone willing to wag their tongue when there is sufficient coin. Don’t you think your father wishes to ransom you? He’s tried four times! But the king doesn’t want money. He wants you. Your unwillingness to yield only inflames him more.” Owen rubbed his eyes. “I’m doing the best I can, Kathryn. But I understand a little about your suffering. Don’t imagine I’m enjoying this.”
She gave him a wary look, drying her eyes on her sleeve. She patted Etayne’s shoulder and then shook her head. “Thank you for telling me. For . . . for warning me you were leaving. I’m frightened of how Severn makes me feel. He’s twisted me with his power so that I feel compassion for him. That I even believe I love him at times. But I belong to another man. And it’s not right for him to hunt me this way. It’s not right.”
Owen eyed her with pity. “No, it isn’t. Seven years ago, he could have been toppled with a breeze. Now he’s like flint.” He sighed, disgusted with himself. “If he knew we were talking like this, he’d kill me. If he knew only a part of what I do behind his back.” Owen shook his head, not daring to say more. “I must leave for Brythonica. I have a duty to perform, even though I find that duty distasteful. Bear yours the best you can. Hopefully when I come again, there will be more cheerful tidings. Farewell.” He gave her a small bow.
Lady Kathryn smoothed the black fabric over her lap. She was twenty-five years old. A beauty, even in black, but much of her bloom had faded with her imprisonment. The king showed her constantly that he, not her husband, controlled her destiny. He controlled her sleeping arrangements. He controlled her wardrobe. He controlled who visited her. But he could not control her will. Owen saw the strength in her eyes, in the determined look forming on her pouting lips. She stood regally, and gave him a formal curtsy. “Thank you for all you’ve done, Lord Owen,” she said in a firm, clear voice. “I will bear this patiently.”
Owen admired her for it. He turned and went to the door, Etayne following silently save for the swish of her gown. As they exited into the hall, Owen’s heart burned with unspent emotion.
“You look like you want to hit someone,” Etayne said.
He glanced around before answering. There were no servants in the hall, no one nearby to hear them. “I don’t know how much longer I can endure this either,” he muttered under his breath.
“The solution is simple and always has been,” Etayne said, keeping stride with him. “I could do it so secretly no one would ever know. Especially now that we’re both leaving for Brythonica. Some powder in his gloves. A bit on his pillow. Owen, stop making this harder than it needs to be. He has become a tyrant.”
Owen knew she was right, but he could not bring himself to commit murder. All of Owen’s power had derived from King Severn. How could he convince the people that a young boy from North Cumbria was meant to be the next king? He had the beginnings of a plan. The original King Andrew had been raised in the household of another nobleman, unaware that he was the son of a king. A Fountain-blessed Wizr had put a sword in a fountain after professing that whoever drew the blade from the water was to be the new king. He had then used his powers to arrange for young King Andrew to draw the blade.
According to Duke Horwath, that very sword, which had gone on to transform a young Fountain-blessed girl into the legendary Maid of Donremy, was concealed in the ice caves. If he managed to retrieve the blade and secretly bring it to the fountain of Our Lady, he could say he’d had a dream that the new king would draw the blade. Of course, Severn was Fountain-blessed himself, so he could ruin the plan by taking the sword himself. Owen would have to approach the situation carefully.
“You’re ignoring me?” Etayne said with a hint of injury to her tone.
“What you’re offering you’ve offered before,” he said under his breath. “But I can’t do that.”
“Then I’ll do it,” Etayne said darkly. “It will solve all of your problems in one stroke. Why should you be so squeamish about it?” She sniffed. “If I need to kill Marshal Roux, what is the difference?”
“The difference,” Owen replied, “is that you’re the King’s Poisoner. He’s ordering it done. And believe me, I don’t feel right about it either. I’m going to try and find a way to threaten the duchess without killing her chief protector. Besides, Roux will not be as easily toppled as Severn assumes.”
Etayne let out her breath slowly. “You are obstinate.”
“This is like a game of Wizr,” Owen said. “You can’t always predict what will happen. How many other pieces are waiting to invade our side of the board? The lad is only seven years old. He’s not ready to become a king.”
“He may not get another chance,” Etayne said knowingly, giving voice to Owen’s own thoughts. “You are the one calling the moves. Your dreams tell the future, do they not? Haven’t you deceived the king for years into believing that? But sometimes trickery isn’t enough. Sometimes there just isn’t a good move to make on the board. You have to sacrifice pieces.”
Owen laughed at that. “In Wizr, one doesn’t sacrifice the king. That’s what ends the game.”
Her lips pursed; her eyes narrowed slyly. She looked quite pretty, and it distracted him. “But then doesn’t a new game start?”
Owen was only too grateful to leave Kingfountain behind, though he worried what might happen in his absence. Kathryn was a strong and courageous woman. But he could see the cracks in her, the weakness of the constant stress on her soul. King Severn was nearly twice her age, but she was young enough to bear children. And the king was ever patient.
Owen and Etayne reached Tatton Hall two days later. He had sent word ahead to his herald Farnes to assemble an escort to ride with them to Averanche and from there to Brythonica. Owen had never entered the duchess’s lands before. He had heard reports that some of the most fertile valleys and farmlands existed in Brythonica. The mildness of the weather was famous, and the sea air purportedly made the crops more plentiful. The duchy was renowned for growing berries of all sorts, and some had jokingly dubbed past rulers the Duke of Berries. There were ships coming and going constantly from her ports to carry the delicate fruit to the far reaches of other kingdoms.
Despite the circumstances, he looked forward to finally meeting the duchess, Lady Sinia. Although they had been neighbors for many years, she never left her domains for fear of abduction. Owen wondered secretly if the lord marshal also played a part in her reticence. Was he truly the power in Brythonica, as Severn supposed? Was she living in an opulent prison much like Kathryn? If that was the case, then perhaps disrupting it would be a strategic move.
After dismounting in front of the manor doors, Owen handed his reins to a groom. Etayne was windblown, but they had oft traveled together, and he was accustomed to seeing her this way. His servants knew her true identity and treated her with wary respect.
Farnes waited at the head of the column of servants standing to greet the duke upon his return.
“I told you I don’t like the formalities,” Owen said in a grumbling tone, looking at everyone standing idle and attentive.
“I know, my lord,” Farnes said with a wheezing rasp in his voice. He’d had trouble with his throat in previous years, but he was determined to continue serving. His eldest son, Benjamin, was being groomed to take his father’s place. Unfortunately, the son was only twelve. “But we have guests, and I thought it proper to greet you more formally this time.”
“Guests?” Owen asked with concern. He had not received any messages about these guests, and as the head of the Espion, he hated surprises. He had the sudden impression that Marshal Roux was there. The man had a nasty habit of anticipating Owen’s actions. “Who?”
“Lord Tidwell,” Farnes said. “And his daughter Ida. Lord Bascom and his daughter Prynn. There’s also a wealthy merchant from Genevar who stopped at Averanche first and then came to Tatton Hall when he heard you were returning. I think he has a daughter in tow as
well. And then there is an heiress from Brugia who is staying in the village. She’s forty years old and quite determined to meet you.”
Owen stared at Farnes in disbelief. “You’re letting them stay in the manor?”
Farnes looked helpless. “It would be the height of rudeness not to offer hospitality.”
Owen wanted to throttle his herald. “It’s the height of rudeness to show up uninvited!”
The look Farnes gave him was scandalized. “You’re not going to send them away!” he hissed under his breath.
Owen shook his head. “No. They can stay as long as they like. I’m the one who will go.” He turned back to his groomsman and whistled, startling the young man. He turned to one of his captains. “The men can rest. Etayne and I are riding on to Averanche. Join us there.”
Etayne’s eyes were alight with amusement. Wisely, she said nothing.
CHAPTER SIX
Poisoner’s Gift
Owen was so exhausted when he reached Averanche that he fell asleep on a small couch with a goblet of wine still in his hand. His dreams of Ankarette were so vivid he could smell her scent of faded roses. In them, he was a child again, feeling safe because she was watching over him.
He imagined her stroking his hair and then realized that the sensation was not part of the dream. It was real. When he blinked his eyes open, he saw Etayne sitting at the edge of the couch, gazing down at him tenderly, her fingers slowly stroking his hair. For a moment, he forgot who she was, where he was, or how he’d come to be there, but the hard ride from Tatton Hall came back in a rush.
“I fell asleep, didn’t I?” he mumbled, remembering the goblet. She had set it on the table next to the couch.
“I would have tugged off your boots, but I didn’t want to wake you,” Etayne said. “You looked so peaceful.”
