The Silent Shield (Kingfountain #5)(62)

For a long while, the king stared dumbfounded at the action below in the yard. There were easily a hundred girls wearing padded tunics and leather arm bracers. Some trained with shields, others with spears. A row of girls with bows practiced relentlessly with the archery butts. Those with long hair had it tethered back into braids or bound with straps. They were all dressed like warriors. Trynne couldn’t suppress a smile as she leaned over the wall, gazing down at the assembled group.

“I’d not imagined there were so many,” the king whispered in amazement. “This is what Genevieve has been supporting?”

“There are even more,” Trynne said. “Those who have completed two months’ training are sent back to their homes with the skills they have honed and the weapons they have trained with, but some have stayed on to help train more. Each of these girls has been trained to battle Gahalatine’s knights. That girl, the one with the dark hair, is the daughter of King Sunilik of the desert. She trained among her own people and has been a friend to me.” She turned to him and added, “There are nearly a thousand Oath Maidens throughout the realm as we speak.”

“A thousand,” Drew gasped in wonder, shaking his head. He pressed his hands against the edge of the battlement wall. “I’d never imagined there would be so many. Who is that overseeing the training? I think I recognize him. He was one of your father’s captains?”

“Captain Staeli,” Trynne said.

“Yes, Staeli. He was there at Guilme. When I was a lad, he became your father’s captain after the Battle of Dundrennan.” Clenching his fist, he tapped it on the stone of the battlement. “I should like to meet them, Trynne. But not looking and smelling like this. Can I borrow some clothes from the Lady of Averanche? I should be very proud to wear your badge.”



It was daybreak when Trynne and Drew returned to the training yard. The king was outfitted as one of the guardsmen of Averanche, wearing the badge of the Tower Moon. A suitable scabbard and belt had been furnished for the blade Firebos, and the weapon of kings was strapped around Drew’s waist. Beneath the tunic, he wore a chain hauberk. The hood was down around his shoulders. Trynne had also provided a leather satchel for him to keep the hollow crown on his person at all times.

Trynne also wore the garb of a warrior, and her two blades were strapped behind her. She had sturdy boots and pants, both of which were well worn and had served her well in her own training as a knight. When the king saw her, he startled a bit.

“I suppose it hadn’t dawned on me fully that you also made the time to train with Captain Staeli,” he said with a sheepish grin.

Trynne hooked her thumbs in the broad leather belt. For an instant, she thought he had figured out her secret, that he’d recognized her as the Painted Knight. But in most of her appearances as the knight, she’d used her magic ring to alter her looks. “I was the first to train with him, my lord. And I have for several years.” She had the urge to tell him about Myrddin and the oaths she had taken, but just as she was about to speak, she felt the power of the Fountain stiffen her tongue. It was still not time to reveal it to him.

She gestured toward the door, and they walked together along the hall. Farnes had gone ahead to warn Captain Staeli they were coming.

When they reached the door leading to the battlement wall, from which they could take the stairs down to the training yard, Trynne paused, gripping the handle.

“The crown, my lord,” she said, nodding to the satchel. “Let them feel that you are their true king.”

Drew nodded in agreement and undid the straps of the satchel. His expression was conflicted as he drew out the ancient, tarnished crown. He stared at it for a moment, the light of the day glimmering off the metal band, but he did not put it on.

“What’s wrong, my lord?”

He glanced from the symbol of his power to her face, meeting her gaze. “I’m impressed that you’ve assembled such a force willing to fight for me, Trynne. I’m humbled, actually. You were the most prescient of us all.” He paused, gathering his words carefully. “But I’m struck by the realization that some of those maidens will die for me.” His free hand clutched at his tunic front, as if his heart were paining him. “How can I ask that of them?”

He gave her an imploring look. There was no doubt that he needed the additional support, but he was still reluctant to use it. Part of him still saw these warriors as innocents in need of protection.

Trynne felt a splash of insight in her mind. She turned to face him fully, her back to the door.

“My lord, let me try and put your mind at ease. Many women fear that they will die in childbirth. Yet despite that fear, we still willingly choose to bring life into this world.” Trynne turned her shoulder and gently patted the door. “Each one of these women who came to Averanche made the choice to be here. None were compelled. None were forced. If they die giving birth to your kingdom, is that not just as worthy a cause? They have chosen to be here, my lord. They have chosen to sustain you as their king. Their rightful king. I have been to Chandigarl and seen the opulence and riches there. But there is also a foulness to that kingdom that I don’t comprehend. I choose to fight for you, my true king and sovereign lord. And so do they.”

She could tell her words had struck him to his heart. Drew was silent for a moment, then he nodded to her and put the crown on his head. She felt the power of it radiating like sun melting the slush of snow.