The King's Traitor (Kingfountain #3)(84)



Owen was angry at his choice of words, but he bit his tongue. Severn’s eyes widened. “So soon? When did they land? Why haven’t we gotten word of this ere now? Surely you could have sent a horse on ahead?”

Catsby shook his head. “I came myself, my lord. I need men, an army! You gave me those lands, my lord! It was my right to do with them as I chose! Now I need force to set this right.”

Severn looked exasperated and furious. “Yes, I did bestow them to you, and in your greed, you pillaged the coffers and insulted everyone living there. Didn’t I warn you to go easy? Now look what you’ve done! If we lose the North without even a skirmish, it will cost treasure and blood to win it back. How could you be so shortsighted!”

Owen suppressed a smile as he looked for Catsby’s reaction. The petulant chancellor defended himself with indignation. “I have done naught but serve you, my liege! You must help me get it back. You cannot let Iago hold lands within Ceredigion. He’ll be after your crown next!”

“No thanks to you!” the king shot back. He blistered the air with some choice curses. “You are useless, Catsby! Useless!” He turned to Owen. “How close is your army, lad?”

Owen was careful not to look too eager. “A few days’ march from here, my lord. Would you like me to bring them North and repulse the invasion? I think if you offered some . . . concessions to Elysabeth and Iago, they might relent.”

“It’s mine!” Catsby blustered.

Severn scowled and shook his head. “I can’t show weakness, not now. When word of this gets out, every duke and prince within the seven kingdoms will arrive with a fork and carving knife.” He gave Owen a stern look. “I want you to crush her, Owen. She has not lived up to her grandfather’s memory. She has betrayed me.”

Owen held out his hands. “You drove her to it, my lord,” he said, shaking his head. “You rewarded her loyalty by making him rich. This is the consequence of your own decision.”

The king’s face twisted with wrath. “How dare you speak to me thus!”

“I must dare it,” Owen said, shaking his head. He took a pleading step forward.

“My lord,” Catsby said, obviously worried about his spoils. “Don’t listen to him. He’s long tried to poison you against me. I’ve feared my life would be forfeit if I spoke more plainly to you, my lord. You cannot trust him, particularly not with the Espion. It’s as I’ve told you time and again; they are more loyal to him than to you!”

Owen felt his own anger surge. “I’ve told the king more than once, Catsby, that he can take what he likes from me. I’ve proven my loyalty to him over the years. What have you done?”

Catsby’s face twisted with fury. “If you weren’t so obviously wounded, my lord—”

“Stop!” the king barked, his eyes glowering, his cheek muscles twitching. “We have enemies enough without snapping at each other! I am your king, and you will obey my orders. Owen, I want you to go North and bring her to heel. I’ve heard you, but I cannot tolerate disobedience. Iago must have been behind the disappearance of his brat for his attack to be timed thusly. You go North and persuade her to relinquish Dundrennan back to Catsby. Don’t argue! Just do it. Catsby, you come with me. You’re still my chancellor, and I want my own army summoned. If Chatriyon invades Westmarch, I will chase him all the way to Pree and break down the stones one by one. Let them all come and snap at me. They will feel the might of the boar!”

The king turned back to Kevan. “See the girl’s body into the river. I’ve had enough of this macabre scene. We are at war, and I will prove to all of them that this snowstorm has nothing to do with the Fountain!”

He took Catsby by the arm as if he were a child, and the two of them marched back to the castle, leaving Owen and Kevan behind with the shivering soldiers waiting to fulfill their duty.

“Is that a smile, my lord?” Kevan asked him curiously, and only then did Owen realize his composure had slipped.

“Sometimes if you don’t laugh at the world, your only other option is weeping,” Owen said with a tone of bitterness. He clapped the Espion on the shoulder and turned around. “We haven’t spoken since our last meeting in the Star Chamber. What happened to you? I’m grateful you’re still alive.”

Kevan flushed and leaned his weight on the cane. “I owe her my life,” he said, shaking his head. “As do you, by the look of it, though you got the worst of it.”

Owen shook his head. “No, she did.”

“’Tis true,” Kevan agreed. “We were walking together to gather men for the meeting with Bothwell. She was stymied by something that kept her quiet along the way. I felt my insides start, and we hadn’t even made it to the outer wall when I collapsed in pain. She asked me what I’d eaten, and I mentioned the berries from Brythonica. She deduced the rest. If I hadn’t eaten a few of those berries, the poisoner’s plan would have worked.”

Owen chuffed in surprise. “I didn’t even consider them a risk. I was only being generous.”

Kevan smiled. “I know that. She recognized the poison because he’d used it before, back in Atabyrion. She had been carrying the remedy with her in preparation to face him. She knelt by me and gave me a swallow of it—bitter stuff—and then raced back to the Star Chamber, expecting to find you sick as well. Looks like she arrived just in time to stop Bothwell from murdering you, only she died instead. How did it happen?” he asked.

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