The King's Traitor (Kingfountain #3)(77)
Owen watched as the expression on the king’s face shifted from anger to recognition, then to betrayal. Kevan may not have noticed the subtle changes, but Owen had been studying him closely.
“Yes . . . yes, I do,” the king stammered.
Kevan scratched his ear. “The sexton swears he saw them enter but not leave. I asked the deconeus if the girl had claimed sanctuary, but he looked as surprised as I’ve ever seen a man. No one had claimed sanctuary that day, and it was the first he’d even heard about the girl. I had men search the entire premises yesterday, from basement to loft. Every crate, every bushel, every closet. I thought I’d have good news for you today, my lord, but there was no sign of her there or at the port.”
Owen stepped forward. “My lord, after hearing Kevan’s report, it’s my belief that this Dragan fellow was involved in Genevieve’s disappearance. I also believe, my lord, that he has some sort of special access to the palace. I don’t have any proof, but I believe he may be Fountain-blessed. If so, that makes him a dangerous threat. Imagine what will happen if Iago finds out. You would be blamed for it.”
The king’s eyes narrowed at the deliberate reference to his nephews who’d disappeared.
“I had no hand in this,” the king said, but his voice had lost confidence and bluster.
“Of course not, my lord,” Owen said sympathetically. “But that won’t stop Iago and Elysabeth from assuming the worst. I fear my vision will come to pass and we will be invaded by all the other kingdoms. I know you sent Catsby to the North, but I have a suspicion that they will turn on him like wolves if Stiev’s granddaughter shows up with war banners. If we lose our grip on the North, we lose a significant number of once-loyal soldiers, the core of your supporters!”
The king rubbed his mouth and started pacing with a pronounced limp.
Owen glanced at Lady Kathryn, who seemed keenly interested in the conversation. Was she piecing the clues together on her own in a way that Severn couldn’t?
“What do you suggest then?” the king asked Owen.
“I’ve ordered the Espion to hunt down this Dragan fellow. I think there are some questions he must answer.”
The king looked firm and resolved. “I want you to bring him to me when you catch him.”
Owen bowed respectfully. “Kevan will see to it right away.”
Severn looked confused. “If he’s Fountain-blessed, shouldn’t you oversee it?”
Owen shook his head. “My lord, I think it would be wise if you sent me to the North. Catsby has managed to offend every lesser noble and the entire staff of Dundrennan. I know those people, having spent much of my childhood there. Let me see if I can rally them. I’ve already ordered Captain Ashby to muster my army and start marching to Beestone castle. Then, depending on where we’re invaded, I can split the army if needed. I’ve sent word to the Duchess of Brythonica to watch her borders for movement by Chatriyon. Do you agree?”
The king stared absently at the flames. Owen suspected he was cursing himself for trusting Dragan. He had hoped the king would admit to his double-dealing, but he wasn’t surprised that he had not, especially in front of his lady.
Severn brooded awhile over the flames. Then he turned and shook his head. “I won’t send you North, not yet.” His eyes shone with burning anger. “I want you to lead the search for Dragan yourself. I think you may be right about his gift, and if so, you’ll have a better chance of finding him than anyone Kevan sends. Bring him to me. I know how to kill someone like him. You may get your chance to go North after you’ve caught him. There is a snow-covered peak there where the Maid of Donremy froze to death. Bring me this thief lord. I’ll show him no mercy if he’s harmed the girl.”
Owen had manipulated the king by asking to go North right away. The pieces were falling just as he’d hoped and planned.
“Very well, my lord,” he said stiffly. He bowed curtly and then turned to leave.
“Lord Owen?”
It was Kathryn’s voice. She’d followed him into the corridor leading off the throne room. It was empty, but the palace was riddled with spy holes and he couldn’t know if it was safe to speak frankly with her.
“Yes, my lady?” he asked.
She wrung her hands as she approached. Her eyes were worried and puffy, and he could tell she hadn’t slept much.
“I know you are doing everything possible to find her,” Kathryn said softly. When she reached him, she cast a look back at the double doors leading to the throne room. The guards stood at attention, but they were too far away to hear their conversation.
“I am, my lady,” he answered simply, keeping his expression neutral.
Her voice dropped lower. “No need to disguise yourself with me, Owen,” she whispered. “I’m not fretting because of Genevieve. I’m worried about the king. I’m worried about what he may be planning.”
Owen wrinkled his brow and said nothing.
Her voice was very quiet and confidential. “I asked him about whether he believed in your prophecy,” she said. “He won’t let himself accept it as truth. At least not yet. The snow is an early winter, he says. He’s convinced himself the Fountain’s portents are childish superstitions.” She bent her head closer to his, giving him a pleading look. “I . . . I asked him what he would do if it were true. What if a boy does draw a sword out of the fountain?” She blinked rapidly, and he saw her eyes fill with tears.