The Silent Shield (Kingfountain #5)(83)

“You killed him,” Morwenna said in a thick, haunted voice. Her eyes were red from crying. “You killed your father.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE


The King’s Champion



Morwenna’s words cut Trynne to her heart. It was her greatest fear that she would be responsible, inadvertently or not, for her father’s death. The struggle to control and contain her emotions was challenging, but although the words had filled her with worry and misery, they did not ring of truth. There was no confirming whisper from the Fountain. Trynne dropped lower, putting her hand on Morwenna’s shoulder.

“I don’t say it out of envy or spite,” the poisoner said with tears. Her face was ravaged with grief. “Rucrius left orders that Lord Owen was to be dispatched. Gahalatine doesn’t know this. He’s never known.”

“Do you know where they were keeping him?” Trynne asked, letting herself hope. “Is there a chance to stop it?”

Morwenna covered her face. “I’m sorry, Trynne. It’s all my fault. When I was at the poisoner school, I found a copy of The Vulgate. I told you this already. What I couldn’t tell you is that Rucrius planted it there, seeking someone like me.” She raised her tearstained eyes.

“What do you mean?” Trynne said, raising her voice. The noise from the besieged doors, shuddering on their hinges, was growing louder. Rows of knights and maidens were positioning themselves before them, preparing to defend the king.

“I was so fixed on it,” Morwenna said, staring down at her knuckles. “On seeking revenge against your father. For his treason against mine. I think . . . somehow . . . my thoughts brought Rucrius to me. He was powerful. He taught me the ways of the Wizrs, even more than your mother did. But before he would teach me, he gave me a ring.” Her eyes grew haunted. “A ring that would bind me to him, to keep me from betraying him. After I put it on, he . . . he had control of my mind. He could make me say things. He could compel my actions.” She quivered and trembled. “He was arranging for me to marry Gahalatine. It would have given me everything that I wished for. But I fought against him the first chance I got. In the first surge of the battle, his will was so focused on his magic and maintaining the whirlwind that I broke free of his control and sought to counter him. He”—she swallowed miserably—“he murdered my father as punishment. When you killed Rucrius, I felt his control over me break. His thoughts faded like echoes. I’ve lost everything. Everything.” Morwenna bowed her head and began to sob.

Trynne closed her eyes, her heart aching for the deceit and the manipulation. The eastern door cracked with loud snapping noises as the wood gave way.

“Stand fast!” Captain Staeli shouted. “Encircle the king!”

Trynne reached out with her magic and sensed that Morwenna’s store was still empty. It was as if her cup had shattered and she was recognizing that Trynne’s had not.

“You are powerful,” Morwenna whispered, tears glistening in her eyes.

The door pieces came crashing down and the enemy warriors began wading through the debris to get inside.

Protect the king.

Gratitude welled inside her. The Fountain had whispered for her to defend the king, not spirit him away.

Trynne rose and reached her hand down to Morwenna. “Now is not the time to be enemies. Defend your brother.”

Morwenna looked at her in startled surprise. “Do you trust me?”

Trynne chuffed. “No, not very much. But we’re short on allies at the moment. If any Wizrs come through those doors, go for the neck.” She drew her own dagger and handed it to Morwenna, who accepted it and then took her hand and allowed herself to be pulled back up.



Trynne’s throat was raw from thirst and her arms were weary from fighting. Both doors had been breached, but every time the Chandigarli soldiers tried to enter the hall, the knights of North Cumbria and the Oath Maidens of Averanche drove them out again. The sun had finally risen, but the situation had not changed.

Captain Staeli barked orders and improvised during the attack, constantly shifting the tactics and directing his maidens. His brow had been slashed by a blade, but he hadn’t let the blood dripping down his face slow him. His leadership and fearlessness had inspired everyone.

There was a pause after the latest attack had been repulsed, and everyone was breathing and gasping for air. Trynne had watched Morwenna fight with all the savage fury she could muster. Though unarmored, she alone had killed over a dozen knights. Fallon had also performed feats of bravery and skill, showing the outcome of his training. Yet even King Drew, with the blazing magic of Firebos, had been unable to stop the relentless flood of attackers continuing the assault of the fortress. A biting cold wind came through the demolished doorways, speaking of the blizzard still raging outside. Drew’s thoughts continued to power the storm that would unleash a mountain of snow on them.

“They’re coming,” Staeli warned, wiping a smear of blood from his cheek. “They’ll run out of soldiers ere long. Keep up the fight.”

Drew’s voice was ragged. “I don’t know how much more we’ll be able to take,” he gasped to Trynne.

She sensed the presence of other Fountain-blessed in the corridor. She recognized Gahalatine’s presence. When she had first seen him at the Battle of Guilme, she had sensed his enormous store of magic—it was unmistakable. But his efforts to embolden his warriors to continue the fight during a ferocious blizzard had drained him. His magic was diminished, but his force of will was still incredibly strong. There was another with him . . . no, at least two other Fountain-blessed with him. How many Wizrs had he brought?