The Silent Shield (Kingfountain #5)(82)

How long had Rucrius been involved in the affairs of the kingdoms? Had he played a role in keeping Ceredigion and Occitania and Brugia fighting each other? Was there more subtlety to the poisoner school than she or anyone had imagined?

But there would be time to explore her suspicions later. For now, she needed to return to the fight at Dundrennan. She straightened and invoked the word of power.



Trynne emerged from the fountain in the midst of the castle and quickly invoked the magic of the ring, concealing the armor and streaks of woad on her face, looking just as she had before. The sound of fighting echoed in the stone hall. Trynne rushed out of the chapel and found the corridor filled with bodies, some wearing the tunic of the Pierced Lion, some the armor of Gahalatine. The corridors were lit by flickering torchlight.

“Gather near me!” she heard Captain Staeli bark. “Hold the doors. Do not let any of the wretches past!”

Trynne rounded the corner and saw a wall of soldiers facing off against Staeli and six Oath Maidens. They were outnumbered but defiant. The warriors of Chandigarl pressed forward and the Oath Maidens rushed to meet them, swinging blades and kicking out with booted feet. Trynne watched one of the girls fall. Then another, but for each one who fell, five or six of the enemy was killed.

She rushed to attack the Chandigarli from behind—the enemy soldiers were boxed in, and they seemed to panic when they realized it.

“That does it!” Staeli crooned, slashing at their foes with both hands. In moments, the rest of the attackers had fallen.

“Lady Trynne!” one of the girls said, seeing her.

Captain Staeli looked at her with surprise. “By the shroud, lass! Look at you!”

“It’s Trynne!” said another girl. She had a cut on her cheek but looked hale otherwise.

“I told you she’d be well,” Staeli grunted. She wanted to hug him, but there was too much going on.

“What is happening?” she asked.

“All the lads and lasses—save these, of course—are down in the dungeons and treasure rooms. The king is in the great hall. We’ve barricaded all the doors. This is the last one.”

Trynne nodded, and Staeli turned and opened the door to the great hall. It was full of soldiers, both wounded and hale, and it was absolute mayhem. Some of the injured knights of the North were drinking from cups pressed into their hands, before rising once more to continue the fight. Groans and murmurs filled the hall, and Trynne saw King Drew talking to one of the maidens, giving instructions and pointing. He turned and saw her and his fierce expression wilted into relief.

“Get these doors barred!” Staeli ordered. “Use those water barrels, I don’t care if they’re full. They are going to fight us for every inch, by the blood. It’s almost dawn. Hold steady. Hold steady.”

As she hurried toward Drew, Trynne saw Fallon leaning over Morwenna, who sat slumped on the floor. The poisoner nodded her head slowly, her face ashen, as he took a cup from her. Then she caught sight of Trynne walking toward them, and she covered her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with the power of her sobs. Fallon looked over his shoulder to see what had caused the reaction and then leaped to his feet.

He rushed up to Trynne, gazing at her like she was a ray of sunlight. “Where have you been? I’ve had everyone looking for you. Some said you never made it in from the courtyard. I’ve been worried to death you were trapped out there in the blizzard!”

“I used the ley lines,” she told him, feeling pleased that he had worried, grateful to be back with him. Still, even though she knew Morwenna needed a friend now more than ever, she could not lie to herself. It bothered her to see them together. “I’m all right.”

“Trynne!” Drew sighed, reaching them. He gripped her arm tenderly.

“I’m all right,” she repeated. A part of her wanted to tell them what happened in Pisan, but she also wanted to block the memories forever.

“I have word from the Espion that Grand Duke Elwis and his army are on the march. They are rushing to Dundrennan. They bid us to hold fast. They’re coming.”

“I don’t know how long we can hold out,” Trynne said, shaking her head.

“My lord, they are coming!” someone shouted.

“Keep blocking the doors, then!” Staeli yelled. “They don’t have battering rams.”

There were three external doors leading into the hall. One of the far doors shuddered as something heavy struck it. Then something began to pound against the second door. The third led deeper into the castle, where the inhabitants of the city were hunkering down.

Drew turned and drew his sword. “This is where we stand and fight. This is where the honor of Kingfountain rests. Do your duty. I can ask no more.”

Trynne’s heart churned with worry. Should she take Drew somewhere else? If the Chandigarli soldiers broke through, should she flee with the king and leave Dundrennan to its fate? Leaving . . . Fallon? Captain Staeli? Her maidens? She covered her mouth, not knowing what she should do.

Then she spied Morwenna again, still slumped on the floor, gazing sullenly at the doors. The poisoner had helped them defend the castle during the storm Rucrius had summoned. Her reward had been to watch her father die at his hand. Although Trynne’s feelings for the Argentine girl were complex, she did pity her.

Without thinking, Trynne left the king and Fallon and approached Morwenna. The dark-haired girl looked up at her, nearly cowering with shame and misery.