The King's Traitor (Kingfountain #3)(100)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN


Ravens




A cheer of triumph came from the camp, the noise rousing Owen from his pondering and pacing. Kathryn clutched Drew to her bosom, her eyes full of fear and dread. Owen halted and cocked his head at the sound. Then he turned and stared at the Wizr board. The pieces had shifted again. The black king was still poised next to where the tower had been, its progress halted. The knight representing Iago was now in a position to threaten the king.

“What is happening out there?” Owen said in confusion. He saw that the white Wizr was back where it had been previously, indicating Sinia had returned to her army. How long would it take for the ravens to arrive?

“Did Severn win?” Kathryn asked nervously.

“Go outside the tent. Find one of Severn’s captains. Ask him.”

Pausing only to cast a worried look at the young boy, Kathryn stole outside the tent, her black, jeweled gown sparkling in contrast to the pale snow-light outside.

Drew stared up into Owen’s eyes, unflinching. “I didn’t know that man was my father.”

Owen dropped down onto one knee near him. He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I tried everything I could to spare his life. Your mother and he, they used to write to each other in the margins of books. I was their messenger.”

The lad looked more uncomfortable. “When did we first meet? Were you the one who brought me to Dundrennan?”

“I was there when you were born. From the moment I held you in my arms,” Owen said in a hushed tone, “the Fountain told me it was you. It told me to resurrect you. It told me to protect you. I’ve done the best I could do, lad, under very difficult circumstances.”

Drew nodded, his lips quavering, his eyes widening at the confession. “I know you have, my lord. If I don’t forgive him, will I become the black king?”

“When you become King of Ceredigion, this piece will turn white, I think. The game will change, but it will continue as it should. The blizzard will end. You will already start with many loyal to you. You won’t be alone.”

He looked a little greensick. “I never dreamed of becoming king,” he said in a choked voice, “but I think a king should show mercy.” He took a steadying breath. “I think I can forgive him. It won’t be easy.”

Owen laughed softly, feeling his heart ache for the lad. “It will not.” He gave the lad a pat on the back and stood and started pacing again. Kathryn reappeared a short time later, fresh flakes of snow scattered across her shoulders and bodice.

“The king has breached the outer wall of Dundrennan,” she said, her voice shaking with fear and the chill of winter. “They’re fighting Iago’s men in the bailey yard, but the keep is holding. The Atabyrions show no sign of retreating.”

Owen frowned at the news. Was Evie still there? The position on the board told him that she was not, and his instincts confirmed it. Iago wouldn’t run from a fight.

Kathryn approached Owen, her face full of conflicting emotions. “What will happen to the king if he’s defeated? Will you put him to death?”

Owen gave her a hard look. “Only if he won’t surrender. I don’t seek his blood, Kathryn. While I see the cruel man he’s become, I can understand how he came to be this person through the choices he’s made.” He paused for a moment, then said, “I told Drew about Eyric. He knows about his father.”

Kathryn clasped her hands together and started to pace back and forth, mimicking Owen’s anxiety from moments before. Then she went to her son and hugged him close. She had tears in her eyes. “What will you do if the king surrenders? Will you spare his life?”

Owen looked at her, his brow furrowing. “You’re pleading for him?”

Kathryn bit her lip, looking up at Owen. “I . . . I don’t know what to think. I should be happy to be free of him. Yet, it would pain me to see him suffer in a dungeon. To see him treated as my lord husband was treated. To be deprived of so much, if he gave up the crown.” She shook her head and returned her attention to Drew. “I don’t know, my son. I’m torn.”

“Kathryn, he used his magic on you,” Owen said. “You know this.”

She did. He could see it in her eyes. But there was a part of her that cared for him regardless. The magic hadn’t worked on empty feelings. All his kindnesses, all his gifts, all his adoration had impacted her over the years.

Drew’s face was twisted with confusion and concern. The boy was too young to be dealing with such adult conflicts!

The sound of approaching boots was the only warning before the tent flap flung open and Severn Argentine strode inside, his armor encrusted with ice and frozen blood. He had a ferocious look, and he was limping severely, his armored hand pressing a wound at his side. He hobbled to the camp chair and flopped himself down onto it, breathing in ragged gasps.

“Fetch my surgeon,” the king said to Kathryn. Then his eyes found Owen, and he glanced around until his gaze found the chains that lay in a heap on the pallet.

Owen sensed the king was going to reach for his dagger to defend himself, and before it could happen, he raised his hands. “I’m not waiting to ambush you, my lord. Your guards patrol the tent.”

“How did you get free?” the king snarled, his nostrils flaring with fury.