The Silent Shield (Kingfountain #5)(64)

Trynne grinned as she led the king to the edge of the woods, where blankets had been gathered around the gnarled roots of a tree. There were so many bedrolls around, it was difficult to step over them to reach the vacant space at the center of the area—the spot they’d reserved for the king. Drew nestled down next to a tree, leaning back against it instead of lying down.

Trynne found her blanket and settled into it after unstrapping her sword belt. The smell of the dirt and loam was intoxicating. Her eyelids were getting heavier just from being near the ground.

“Won’t you sleep, my lord?” she asked, propping herself on her elbow.

“I will,” the king answered softly. The sound of breathing and the quiet murmur of voices mixed with the noise of crickets and cicadas. Oath Maiden sentries ghosted in and out of the trees, keeping watch while the others slept. There was excitement in the air, as thick and palpable as the yeasty smell of the gorse.

Trynne laid her head on her arm, her mind spinning with fatigue. She would fall asleep in moments, she had no doubt of that.

“Trynne?”

The king’s voice was just a whisper.

“Yes, my lord?” She lifted her head again, staring at him in the darkness. The massive yew shadowed them. There was no glint of light coming from him at all.

“A thought struck me just now,” he said, shifting a little to get more comfortable. “I just wanted to share it with you.”

“Please do,” she said.

“For the last year, I have felt so . . . so forsaken by the Fountain. It felt as if everything was being wrenched away from me. First Myrddin. Then your father. Your mother. Some of my dukes. Now my wife and daughter. One by one, those most important to me have been taken away. I’ve been disheartened, Trynne. Why would the Fountain allow this to happen? Why would it give me the kingdom and then painfully strip it away from me?

“You’ve experienced such evils too. Misery and grief that surpasses my own. Have either of us ever deliberately acted against the Fountain’s wishes? Not that I can think of, anyway. Yet still this has happened.” His voice sounded forlorn, yet there was a spark of hope in it still.

“And what have you decided, my lord? What have you realized?” She gazed at the dark shadows, unable to see him. But she heard his steady breathing.

“Your father taught me that history repeats itself over and over. And so a thought struck me. My own grandfather, King Eredur, had his kingdom wrested away from him by his uncle Warrewik. He had to flee to Brugia with his brother, Duke Severn. He had to win his kingdom a second time. It was Genevieve’s mother who told me the story, and then Polidoro confirmed it when I asked him about it. Eredur lost everything and had to live by the means of the King of Brugia. He had no soldiers. He only had his brother. His wife and children were in sanctuary. Does this not sound familiar?”

Trynne felt a ripple from the Fountain in her heart, warming her against the cold of the night. “Very,” she answered with a smile.

“Then Polidoro told me something that filled me with hope. Eredur never would have reclaimed his throne all alone. The people wanted him to be king, not Warrewik. Not an Occitanian prince. The one who helped my grandfather win back his crown was his poisoner, Ankarette Tryneowy. Sometimes I forget that you were named after her. I’m glad you are with me, Trynne. Good night.”

His words warmed Trynne more than her blanket. He was a kindhearted man—a good and true leader—and she had to believe that he was right, that they would prevail.

“Good night, my lord.” Trynne laid her head down on her arm again and fell asleep immediately.

She wasn’t sure how long she slept before being jostled awake. It was still dark, in the fullness of night.

Drew’s hand was on her shoulder. A man stood by the king holding a small shielded lantern. She didn’t recognize him, but she noticed the Espion ring on his hand.

“Trynne,” the king whispered. She rose quickly, her muscles aching and weary.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, trying not to groan.

“This man is an Espion from Glosstyr. He says Gahalatine’s fleet, the one that sacked Legault, has landed at Blackpool. Duke Severn is under attack. The battle started at sunset.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX


Trapping the Boar




It was a bruising ride from the yew forest to Blackpool. Trynne wished the old Wizr board had never been destroyed, that they could observe the pieces and see which were black and which were white. The kingdom was besieged and what they lacked most was information. Drew had asked for Trynne’s advice on whether she thought Severn had joined his daughter in betraying them. If they hastened to Blackpool, would they be greeted with a trap?

In Trynne’s mind the solution was obvious. Speed was essential. If Severn were loyal, their arrival might aid him. If he were false, knowing sooner would be better. Either way, an enemy army could block the road to Dundrennan, and it was critical that they reach the mountain fortress as soon as possible.

Going to Blackpool would only help their cause.

They had roused the sleeping troops with word of the conflict. The marching soldiers were told to move quickly, to abandon their camp and to get on the road under the pale moonlight. Riders from the Espion were dispatched to bring the duke word that support was on its way. The king’s presence was to be kept a secret.