The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)(2)

Iago and Lady Evie held hands as they listened to the evidence of the case. That simple evidence of their love for each other made the chair next to Trynne, the one meant for her own husband, feel more conspicuously empty.

She glanced at the others at the table, at the Dukes of East Stowe and Southport. Finally, her gaze found Fallon, brooding as he stared at Lord Amrein, his face a mixture of pain and anger. His eyes shifted to meet hers, betraying deep suffering. They had not spoken since the battle. He had remained in Dundrennan to guard Morwenna and Dragan and had then escorted the prisoners to Kingfountain under heavy guard.

To prevent Morwenna from escaping, Gahalatine had revealed the use of the astrolabe—a device that he and many of his people wore around their necks. It was a metal ring of sorts surrounded with spokes, almost like a sunburst in appearance. But its purpose was to enable the wearer to see the invisible ley lines. Armed with them, Morwenna’s guards had been able to ensure she was kept away from the ley lines, thus preventing her from using her Fountain magic to escape. She had promised to submit to the judgment of the council, declaring that she had been a pawn of the Wizr Rucrius, whose control over her was now gone.

Trynne looked away from Fallon, wondering if she should try to speak to him following the meeting. She was preparing to go to Chandigarl to participate in the coronation ceremony that would officially make her Gahalatine’s queen. She was nervous and excited, and part of her wanted to share those emotions with Fallon —as a friend. She hoped that her marriage would help him finally overcome his feelings for her. Now that she was wed to another, she had forced her own feelings for him into a cage deep inside her.

“I think the facts of the case,” Lord Amrein said as he paced around the Ring Table, drawing near to where she was sitting and capturing her attention, “are confusing and muddled at best. I have no fewer than twelve witnesses who swear the man in custody is the thief Dragan. We have the sworn word of Duke Fallon, who lured and trapped him.” His tone showed his respect. “I must give you credit, lad. For all my resources with the Espion, I couldn’t do it.”

Trynne shot a look at Fallon, who shrugged as if the compliment meant little to him. He made no reply.

“The problem, as I explained,” Lord Amrein continued, “is that the man has suffered a strange form of amnesia. He does not know his own name. He has no idea where he is from. Curiously, he still has the ability to steal, and every time the Espion searches him, they find small things he has stolen from his jailors here in the palace.

He’s being held in Holistern Tower at the moment, awaiting the judgment of this council.”

Duke Ramey leaned forward in his seat with a disbelieving scowl. “Is there really any point debating this? The man is a thief and a liar. He tried to kill Lord Owen. Throw him in the river and let’s be done with it. Next case.”

“We can’t throw him in the river,” Lady Evie said, shaking her head. “He’s Fountain-blessed.”

Duke Ramey reddened. “Maybe we could try several times,” he said with a hint of malice. “Or fill the boat with chains.”

Iago smirked at the statement. “I can’t say I disagree with the sentiment,” he said with his amiable brogue. “The only good serpent is a dead one, but why risk executing a Fountain-blessed in the river? Should we not take the man to the mountaintop and let him freeze? Is there anyone at the table who objects? Based on all the things Lord Kevan has told us, some of which I didn’t even know, the man is a villain. Let’s get to the king’s sister. That’s the more perplexing case we must decide.”

Duke Ramey gently thumped his fist on the Ring Table and then pointed to King Iago, nodding in agreement.

Silence hung in the room for a while as Lord Amrein looked from person to person. “Does anyone intend to speak up in favor of the condemned . . . ?” he said, his voice full of assurance that no one would.

Trynne felt as off-balance as if she were aboard a ship in a storm. She had been invited to witness the interrogation, and to her soul, she did not believe that Dragan was lying. When he looked at her, there was no recognition in his eyes. He’d asked a guard who she was and how he’d wronged her.

Trynne cleared her voice. “My lords,” she said, wondering if she were being foolish. “I know we went through the evidence already. I am one of the witnesses who identified the man.” She sighed, rubbing her palms across the table. “When I captured Rucrius, he told me something that has haunted me ever since. My father is alive, he said, but he has forgotten his family completely. He doesn’t even know his own name. Rucrius claimed that we have no comprehension of the power that the Wizrs of Chandigarl possess.”

She interlaced her fingers. “My husband has been searching for an answer to this riddle. Lord Fallon and I both believe Dragan was complicit in my father’s abduction. He admitted as much. Before we condemn him to death, can we not defer the decision until we find some means of restoring his memory? It feels . . . unjust to condemn a man who has no knowledge of his crimes. And if we do discover a way to restore his memory, there may still be some use left in him.”

They were all looking at her. They could see the evidence of Dragan’s mistreatment of her on her face. Her smiles were all crooked, her left cheek still slack because of how he had injured her as a child. That she, of all people, was speaking out for him had affected them. A hush fell in the room.