The Hollow Crown (Kingfountain #4)(2)

Of all the pieces on the Wizr board, it was the knight that intrigued her the most. Even though it was not the most powerful piece, it was the most capable of defeating the Wizr piece. Its hooklike pattern of movement allowed it to get places other pieces could not, and it could be used in sneak attacks. She loved the look of the piece so much that she would have preferred a horse’s head sigil to her father’s badge, the heads of three antlered bucks, or her mother’s, the Raven.

Suddenly, everything snapped into place in her mind, and Trynne recognized the move her father was about to make. She blinked in surprise. Why hadn’t she seen it before? She suddenly moved her hand away from the knight and then countered his upcoming move with her deconeus. Her eyes flashed with triumph as she looked up at him.

“Well done, Trynne,” he said approvingly. He was very patient with her, even though he was an inordinately busy man. His duties often called him away to Kingfountain or other portions of the expanding realm. He was the king’s most trusted emissary, and Trynne admired him for the way he honored that trust.

“That means this is going to take even longer, doesn’t it?” Fallon said, depressed.

“I’m afraid so,” Owen replied with an honest chuckle. “Unless you want to forfeit now?”

“Never,” Trynne said obstinately. “Go on and get your pie, Fallon. We’ll probably be done by the time you get back to the castle.”

He wore a dagger on his belt—he was ten after all—and closed his fist around it. “Do you want me to bring you one, Trynne?”

“Blueberry,” she answered, not taking her eyes off the board. She was calculating all the possible moves her father might make.

“I don’t like blueberries,” he said with a sniff.

“Get whatever berry you want, then,” she chided, watching eagerly to see what her father would do next.

“I like apples,” he said.

“They have apple tarts at Madame Fisk’s,” she said absently.

“Where is that?”

“Two streets past Grenuin,” she answered. She could walk Ploemeur blindfolded without losing her way.

“You wanted raspberry, right?”

“Fallon!” Trynne sighed with exasperation.

“He’s just goading you,” Owen said with a laugh. They could both hear Fallon chuckle as he sauntered away. Her father’s next move countered her threat with one of his own. She was about to respond quickly, but she paused again, tapping her finger on her lips, trying to see if there was another way. Her father was always adept at finding solutions no one else would consider—a quality she wished to share.

Not long afterward, Trynne’s mother, Sinia, came into the solar with a guest. Trynne glanced up and recognized the newcomer as Lord Amrein, master of the Espion. The game was halted immediately. Trynne’s eyes shot to the little white patch amidst her father’s dark hair, which she adored. It was the mark he had earned when Ankarette saved his life all those years ago.

“That you are even here does not bode well, Kevan,” Owen said simply as he rose from the stuffed chair opposite Trynne. His frown deepened the wrinkles around his eyes; he expected bad news. “I take it that Brugia has besieged Callait at long last.”

The master of the Espion smiled and shook his head. “It never ceases to amaze me how you know things before you’ve been told. Am I to assume that Lady Sinia had a vision?” He glanced at Trynne’s mother expectantly.

Sinia nodded, her gaze guarded and thoughtful. “The king sent you to bring Owen to Kingfountain.”

“Indeed, my lady. The matter is most urgent. King Maxwell has hit Callait with his largest force and blockaded the city with his fleet.”

“That’s bold of him,” Owen said flatly. He sounded neither surprised nor worried. Trynne knew that no man could best her father in battle. There was no doubt of what the outcome would be.

“Bold, stupid, call it what you will,” the Espion master said with a shrug. “The king would like you to advise him. I came by boat, which is the fastest transportation I can muster, but with your lady’s help, you can be at Kingfountain this evening.”

Owen glanced at his wife a moment. Her hand covered her swollen belly protectively. The two exchanged a glance that was private and serious. Trynne didn’t understand it, but she was excited by the prospect of war. Her father had managed to subdue all of King Drew’s enemies through his tactics and cleverness. Now, it would seem that it was King Maxwell’s turn to fall into line.

“Can I come with you, Father?” Trynne pleaded. She loved visiting Kingfountain.

He glanced down at her, his raised eyebrows showing he was surprised by her question, and perhaps a little annoyed. “No, Trynne. You’re only seven. You need to stay in Ploemeur.”

She understood why she had to stay, but it frustrated her. There was an ancient magic that held the Deep Fathoms at bay and kept them from sweeping over the duchy of Brythonica. The invocations needed to be renewed regularly, and by someone from Trynne’s lineage. Since Sinia and Owen didn’t know how long they’d be away, Trynne would have to stay behind to manage the defenses of the borders of Brythonica. It was an important job, but she chafed at the thought of being trapped in Ploemeur.

Trynne hungered to see the rest of the world, which she had only learned about by stories from her father. She wanted to see the giant waterfalls of Dundrennan. She longed to visit Fallon’s homeland, Atabyrion, and visit Wizr Falls. She’d been to Pree when the treaty was signed, but she could remember only snatches of the journey. Her mother’s magic as a Wizr made it possible to cross great distances. But that same magic bound her to Ploemeur so she could keep the boundaries that had been set by ancient Wizrs long dead and gone.