The Silent Shield (Kingfountain #5)(17)

“Indeed, it will not,” Trynne said. “I think he is anxious for word on where Gahalatine will press his attack. We have too many vulnerabilities. The fleet of treasure ships is on its way. They are coming to invade us, and his Wizr is about to tell him that the Fountain bids her to leave.” The panic and dread inside Trynne’s heart threatened to consume her.

“The king has another Wizr,” Sinia said, her voice flat. Although she was looking at Trynne, it was understood that she meant the king’s sister. “Morwenna is powerful. She finds new words of power almost daily. She’s drawn to them somehow, as if the books are trying to teach her quickly. I’ve never seen this before. She has surpassed where I was at her age.” Her voice grew softer. “The Fountain has provided another to take my place.”

It felt like another blow.



Trynne had been there the day Myrddin had told King Drew and her father that he was leaving. The threat they had faced was less real back then; they had not been attacked by their enemies at that point, so Gahalatine had not yet possessed a foothold in their realm.

Trynne watched as Drew absorbed her mother’s news in stunned silence. They were gathered in the solar of the palace at Kingfountain. Genevieve cradled their tiny babe in her arms, wrapped in the softest of blankets, and pressed little kisses against her feather-light tufts of hair. The babe’s namesake, Lady Kathryn, was also present. She and Morwenna were standing side by side, and while Kathryn was clearly surprised by the news, a strange look had passed across her daughter’s eyes. Perhaps Morwenna was thinking about being the realm’s only Wizr. It was a powerful position, to be sure, and a dangerous one.

Drew was openly shocked. He was like an uncle to Trynne, and her heart went out to him as she witnessed him take the blow, as sharp and painful as a staff slammed into his gut. Tall and strong, he had the Argentine good looks, though he favored his grandfather, Eredur, more than he did his dark and severe uncle Severn. He was often serious, but had a habit of defeating tension with humor.

There was no humor in him now.

He stared at Sinia with confounded disbelief. “Surely,” he said in a half-strangled voice, “the Fountain would not summon you when our need be so great. Myrddin assured me that the situation elsewhere he was summoned to was worse than our situation. Although I cannot see how.”

Trynne ached at the tone of his words, for she felt the same way.

“My lord,” Sinia said, “it is not my desire to abandon you. My visions have never explained why things happen. Only that they will.”

“When I called for you,” Drew stammered, “I had not expected such news. Forgive me; I need a moment.” He walked over to Genevieve, who was sitting at a little bench near his mother. He put his hand on her shoulder, as if she were the rope that would save him from drowning. Genny looked up at him worriedly, gently rocking the babe, who was starting to squirm and mewl with hunger pangs.

Kathryn offered to hold Kate, giving Genevieve a sweet, comforting smile, and the queen handed the babe over. The queen dowager spent half of each year living in Glosstyr with her husband. Now that her grandchild had been born, Trynne imagined she’d be more likely to stay at court. Morwenna gave the infant a brief dispassionate look before returning her gaze to Sinia.

The silence in the room was uncomfortable and growing worse.

“I apologize for adding to your worries,” Sinia said.

Genevieve took her husband’s hand and squeezed it. “You have ever been our loyal friend and wise counselor, Lady Sinia. It would not hurt to remember that without your aid, this kingdom would have been buried in snow and ice over a decade ago. You have proven yourself a loyal ally of Kingfountain many times. May it always be so.”

Trynne appreciated Genny’s calming words. She was always so levelheaded. As Trynne mulled over their predicament, she glanced again at Morwenna. The girl was struggling for composure—her lips were pressed into a flat line, and her eyes were glowering with some dark emotion.

Morwenna looked down, her cheeks a little flushed, before lifting her gaze to Trynne. Realizing her discomfort had been observed, she shook off whatever mood had gripped her—blinking rapidly and squaring her shoulders—and offered Trynne an apologetic smile.

“We must tell the council at once,” Drew said, shaking his head. He put his arm around Genny’s shoulder. “Send a summons. Sister, can you and Trynne help gather them all to the Ring Table?”

“Of course,” Morwenna said, looking much less agitated than she had moments before.

“Whatever provisions you need,” Drew said, looking at Sinia. “Name them. I will send you on my best galleon. If you go to the Deep Fathoms, perhaps you can seek aid for us. We are in sore need of it.”

Sinia demurred. “We are going into uncharted waters. I need a sturdy merchant vessel of Genevese make. Indeed, I saw it in my vision. You will need all the ships you have. I do not wish to impose on Your Grace.”

“Very well, then I will coax you no further.” Turning toward Trynne and Morwenna, he said, “Duke Elwis is already here at the palace. Gather Iago and Elysabeth, Duke Ramey, Deconeus Stellis, and Fallon, of course. Best if they all hear the news straightaway. See it done.”

His tone was one of command, and both girls bowed in deference. Morwenna hooked her arm through Trynne’s as they left the solar. Trynne was uncomfortable, wishing she hadn’t seen that look on the other girl’s face. But Morwenna was ever one to plunge into dark waters and dive to the heart of the matter.