The Silent Shield (The Kingfountain Series Book 5)

by Jeff Wheeler

  Drew spoke in a low voice with one of the Espion, who would relay messages immediately to Kevan Amrein back at Kingfountain, alerting him of the truce and the sudden change of events. The Espion bowed and left the three of them alone in the solar. Drew clasped his hands behind his back and turned to face Gahalatine, giving him a probing look.

  “Any news from your Wizrs?” he asked.

  Gahalatine nodded. “Contact has been made with the Grand Duke of Brugia. The rescue is under way. Many of his soldiers are frostbitten, but we will treat them. Those who fell behind are being searched for. We will save as many as we can.”

  “Thank you,” Drew said. “I was not in a position to offer much aid.”

  Gahalatine smiled and bowed his head. “I will do what I can to alleviate the suffering I have caused.” He looked at Trynne, who felt a smile of gratitude tug at her lips. Gahalatine beamed when he saw it.

  Drew noticed the subtle interplay between them and arched his eyebrow. “How will your people react to this news, my lord?”

  Gahalatine leaned back against the window, looking thoughtful. “The Mandaryn will be violently opposed. They control the bureaucracy. But the military is loyal to me. I can also be very . . . persuasive, King Andrew. My people may need some time to accept this change. But I do not doubt that they will come to see the advantages as I have. I would like to invite you to visit us in the Forbidden Court. To see for yourself what the East Kingdoms offer to your splendor.”

  Drew arched his brow again. “You used the word us. And I’ve noticed the way the two of you have been looking at each other.” He scratched the corner of his mouth as if trying to subdue a grin. “You said your surrender was unconditional. But is there an understanding between the two of you? I sense that there is.”

  Gahalatine said nothing, but he looked at Trynne with a pleased and humble smile. She stroked the warm fabric on her arms, savoring the sensation and the feeling of calm assurance in her heart. She walked over to the window seat and sat next to Gahalatine, taking his hands in hers. He caressed her fingers with his thumb, and she gave him a shy glance.

  “When I went to Chandigarl,” Trynne said, looking over at the king, “Gahalatine promised me his troth and I declined it by fleeing his presence. My first loyalty and duty has always been to you and your wife. But I did promise him, when we were discussing terms, that I would be his wife if he swore fealty to you. Truly, my lord, he has no guile. He trusted my word just as I trusted his.” She heard the door open as she turned to Gahalatine and spoke the next words. “I do accept your troth.”

  Drew turned at the intrusion, and they all saw Fallon standing in the doorway, leaning on a crutch. The look in his eyes filled Trynne with pangs of regret. He did not look startled. He did not look angry. He looked defeated. But he rallied himself, putting on a complacent mask.

  “My timing is always infallibly, imperturbably, and impressively punctual,” Fallon said, forcing a chuckle. “I nearly missed the best part.” He hobbled inside, wincing at the pain in his leg, and shut the door. His mask of affability was firmly in place, but Trynne knew him well, and she saw the pain in his eyes. “Well, my lord Gahalatine, let me be the first to wish you both well. When are the nuptials? Did I miss that part?”

  “No, Fallon,” Drew said, giving the duke a surprised look. “I only just found out myself.” He turned back to the couple at the window seat. “And so,” Drew said, encouraging her to continue, “you’ve accepted him?”

  “I have,” Trynne said, gazing into the king’s eyes, not daring to look at Fallon again. She could feel the concern in Drew’s words, his unspoken question. He was wondering if she had sacrificed herself to save his kingdom. She rubbed Gahalatine’s arm with one hand. “My lord, my mother once had a vision of my marriage. Even though she is not here, I believe this fulfills it. I’ve . . . been expecting something like this. For some time.”

  Drew nodded, pursing his lips. “If this is your decision, Trynne, I will not countermand it. Regarding the nuptials, has anything been decided? I will honor any terms you both agreed on.”

  Gahalatine smiled and leaned forward slightly. “Urgently would be my desire. I explained to Lady Tryneowy that the laws of my realm forbid a man from consummating a marriage with a lady who is not of age if her parents are dead or cannot present her. In your kingdom, she is of a suitable age to marry. But in mine, we cannot be man and wife in truth until she turns eighteen or until one or both of her parents grant their consent. It would be wise, therefore, if some distance separated us in the interim. There is much that I must do to repair the injury I’ve done to Ceredigion. There are troubles in my own lands that I must address. But I would marry her this very day at the sanctuary of Our Lady if your lordship will permit it.”

  “Our Lady,” Drew said, nodding as he thought on the words. “My own dear wife has been in hiding there. I should like to see her again.”

  “Perhaps we can all go there together?” Gahalatine suggested. He rose from the window seat and brought Trynne, who was still holding his hand, up with him. “I will happily surrender the castle back to you, and we can end this conflict.”

  “I think that would suit us all perfectly well,” Drew said. He turned to Fallon and raised an eyebrow.

  Trynne risked a look at him, and part of her was relieved to see his mask still in place. “I’m unfit to travel at the moment,” Fallon demurred. “While I would regret missing out on the marriage, I think it would be better if I stayed behind. I do have some news for you, my lord. Lady Trynne may wish to hear it also?”

  “Go on,” Drew said.

  “It concerns the thief Dragan,” Fallon said. He was looking at Trynne as he spoke. “I heard a report before the battle that he was dead.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t true. He awakened, but he was a changed man when he did. He began raving. He didn’t know who he was, he said. Or why he had been jailed. The man cannot remember his own name.”

  The king wrinkled his brow, full of doubt. “He can no longer remember?”

  Fallon nodded. “I’ve spoken to him myself, my lord. He looked at me as if I were a complete stranger. He doesn’t know the name of our kingdom. He doesn’t know why he was captured. His memories have all been stolen.”

  “But it is a jest, surely?” Drew asked.

  “Perhaps,” Fallon offered with a shrug. “But if it is one, it doesn’t make sense. What would he have to gain by pleading amnesia? Surely it does not pardon his many crimes. He was frightened, earlier, about being killed. Do you remember?” he added, looking intently at Trynne.

  “I do,” she said, feeling cold despite the heat of the hearth. “He was afraid of Morwenna.”

  “Yes, but she was locked inside her cell,” Fallon said. “When the battle grew fierce, she used her magic to rip the cell door open. That was the first time she left . . . after he was already found unconscious, presumed dead. My lord, what will you do with them?” He had a strange edge to his voice, one of strained concern.

  Drew’s face twisted into a frown. “They will both face the Assizes,” he said sternly. “Justice will be done.” Then he softened. “I will have Lord Amrein interrogate them both. There may be mitigating circumstances. Morwenna may have been under the sway of the Wizrs.”

  “This is the king’s poisoner you speak of?” Gahalatine said.

  Drew nodded. “My blood-sister.”

  “Before you condemn her,” Gahalatine said, “let me see what I can discover about her involvement. There may be more evidence I can bring to bear.”

  “Thank you,” Drew said to Gahalatine. Then he turned to Fallon. “Can I trust her to your custody for now? She must be guarded night and day.”

  “Of course, my lord. But I ask that I not be the judge in the matter. Assign Lord Amrein or someone else, if you would. I will hold her until you send for her.”

  Drew sighed and agreed. “To Kingfountain, then. Shall we?”

  Trynne’s stomach twisted with excitement and dread. Soon she would be
married to a capable and kindhearted king, but she sorrowed for Fallon, both for the suffering she saw in his eyes and for what might have been.

  Without Morwenna’s help during the battle, things would have been worse for them, but she did not think it terribly wise to keep her in Dundrennan. Trynne would suggest to Genevieve that she be moved elsewhere, like Beestone castle.

  As they started to follow Drew out of the solar, Fallon blocked the way. He looked at Gahalatine, a half smile on his mouth. “Congratulations, my lord,” he said, closing his eyes and bowing his head in a gesture of respect. “You will not regret your decision. You have won you the best that our shores have to offer.” Then he gave Trynne a heartbreakingly sweet smile. “Farewell, Cousin.”

  He stepped out of the way and extended his hand gallantly for them to pass. But he did not follow them out of the solar.

  The only hint of winter was the sharp feeling of the air. The sky over the city of Kingfountain was the deepest, clearest blue without even the hint of a cloud. The three of them emerged through the fountain in the side chapel of Our Lady.

  The sanctuary was crowded with citizens offering coins and prayers. It was obvious that word from Dundrennan had not yet reached the city. Their murmurs filled the air as Drew came to a stop in the threshold leading to the main audience hall. Light from the sky filled the huge windows and painted dazzling colors on the black and white marble tiles.

  No one had noticed them yet.

  Trynne’s stores of magic were depleted, but when she reached out to probe for threats and dangers, there weren’t any.

  “There’s Lord Amrein,” the king said, sighing in relief. “Who is that woman at his side?”

  Trynne followed his gaze. It was the widow Mariette, whom Trynne had assigned as the queen’s bodyguard. She was exceptionally tall compared to Lord Amrein, but they were speaking in confidential tones. There was an intimacy to it that made Trynne smile.

  Then she noticed the king was staring at her. She turned and gave him a quizzical look. He reached out and took one of Trynne’s hands, cupping it between his own. When he spoke, his voice was low and thick with emotion.

  “Thank you, Trynne. I cannot thank you enough. You saved my kingdom. You saved us all. You were my silent shield, my unseen protector. You were my true champion. Until your father returns, I would have you take your rightful place at the Ring Table. In his chair.”

  Her throat thickened and she felt a spasm of surprise at his words. “But what of Fallon? He is your champion.”

  Drew shook his head. “He was defeated, Trynne. You were not.” While holding her hands, he turned to Gahalatine. “I offer you a seat at the Ring Table as well, Lord Gahalatine. I would value your wisdom and leadership. I would trust you as an emissary to act on my behalf.”

  Gahalatine smiled, pleased. “It would be an honor, my lord.”

  But then someone saw them in the alcove, and the quiet moment ended. Word began spreading like wildfire. “The king! The king is here!”

  “The hollow crown! It is him!”

  “Wait for me here,” Drew said, smiling with chagrin. He released her hand and marched into the huge room, one hand on the hilt of Firebos. The crowd parted before him as he strode toward the fountain from which he had first drawn the sword. And then Trynne saw that Genny had joined Lord Amrein and Mariette, and a tingle of warmth went down to her toes. Her throat caught with delight as she watched Genevieve, holding baby Kate in her arms, rush forward and embrace her husband with laughter and tears.

  “The war is over!” Drew shouted to the assembled crowd in a loud, triumphant voice. “We have peace!”

  A chorus of cheers and exultant shouts thrummed throughout the vast chamber. Within moments, the bells of Our Lady began to ring, adding to the frenzy. A few children began dancing with reckless abandon inside the fountain waters. Having heard the stories of her father and Lady Evie playing in that very fountain as little ones, Trynne started to laugh through her tears. She pressed her hand against her nose, trying to stifle the sobs.

  Trynne felt Gahalatine’s arm wrap around her shoulders and she leaned into him. He pressed a kiss into her hair.

  Genevieve presented the baby girl to Drew, who picked up the lass and smothered her cheek with kisses. A pang of longing filled Trynne at the sight. While she was pleased that the Fountain had used her to bring peace to the realm, she missed her own father dreadfully. Seeing the scene unfold before her awakened feelings she’d suppressed. Would her father and mother come home again? Would they be a family together once more? She remembered something Genny had said, the memory as sharp and piercing as a thorn.

  “What sort of world will she inherit? Will it be Gahalatine’s? Or her father’s?”

  “She’ll inherit the world we leave her,” Trynne had said.

  “And what kind of world will that be?”

  Trynne looked up at Gahalatine, saw him staring down at her with a look of affection. It awakened a hunger inside her, a longing that could not be denied. She couldn’t imagine anything changing that look. He was firm and constant. He was to be her husband. She stared up at him, wanting him to bend down and kiss her.

  And almost in response to her contented thought, a shadow passed over the sunlight outside as a cloud drifted by. And with it came the memory of Fallon’s kiss.

  EPILOGUE

  Into the Deep Fathoms

  Sinia Montfort Kiskaddon gazed at the map of ley lines she was painstakingly crafting in her cabin. In the months she had been at sea, she had adjusted to the pitch and sway of the ship. There were times when the wind had blown them steadily westward. On other occasions, the ocean was flat as glass and the crew labored with oars and dinghies to drag the ship onward.

  Staring at the map, she touched the various islands that they had visited along the way, looking at the markings she had made in her elegant script with the assistance of the ship cartographer. They had encircled the islands to collect the shapes of the coves and inlets.

  Each one they had found contained a carved boulder—a boulder with a face engraved into it. The boulders contained the magic of the Fountain—asleep and waiting to be awakened. Whenever she reached out and touched one, she could see blazing in her mind the location of the next stone on the next island. There was also script carved into the rocks, an ancient language, which she had used her magic to decipher. The markings had been left by a Wizr from Chandigarl centuries before, and they documented his search for the Deep Fathoms.

  With each visit, Sinia had felt something beckoning her onward.

  She sighed, mopping sweat from her brow with a nearby towel. The journey had been both thrilling and dangerous. Storms had threatened them and damaged the ship, and they had encountered a treasure ship not long after leaving Ploemeur. The Wizr on that ship had sought to hunt them down, but Sinia had conjured a mist to hide their escape. Still, all their adventures could not banish her sense that something terrible was happening back at Kingfountain. She’d had a vision of a runaway wagon barreling down the switchbacks from the castle atop the hill in Ploemeur, but the vision was frustratingly short on details. They so often were.

  Sinia leaned back in her chair, staring at the map but not seeing it. The urge to turn the ship around was nearly overpowering. There was a war in her heart. She was determined to exercise faith in the Fountain and where it was leading her, but her instincts as a mother were powerful and omnipresent. She would do anything to safeguard her children and protect her people. She had trained Trynne in what to do, how to reset the wards and preserve Brythonica. She thought back again on the vision she had seen of Trynne’s marriage. She had never met the man before. Judging by his clothes, he appeared to be from the East. King Andrew had been there. So had Genevieve and Lady Kathryn. She herself had not been there, so she had taken the vision as a blessing from the Fountain. It allowed her to be there even though she could not be.

  Go back, the thoughts tormented her. Abandon this silly quest. You are no longer of the Dee
p Fathoms. You are mortal now. You do not belong among them.

  She forced the thoughts away. Leaning forward again, she retraced the series of islands they had encountered amidst the vast ocean. Each carved boulder was a link to a ley line, and each was close to a small natural fountain. They’d used the fountains to replenish their supply of water aboard the boat. Fruits from the native lands had been harvested to restock their supplies.

  They were getting closer.

  Sinia heard the footsteps coming toward her chamber before the knock sounded. It was a firm, commanding sound. She recognized it as Captain Pyne’s knock.

  “Come in.” She watched as the captain opened the door.

  “My lady,” he said, his eyes wide with wonder. “I know not how to describe it. I didn’t believe the sailor in the crow’s nest until I saw it for myself, so I climbed up the rigging just to be sure.” He had a scraggly beard from their months at sea. The dome of his head was covered in stubble as well as a healing gash from an injury he’d suffered during a storm.

  “To be sure of what, Captain?” she asked in confusion.

  “My lady, we’re approaching the island you directed us to. It’s a beauty, I tell you. Green as the spring and full of vegetation. There’s a hump of mountain on the southeastern side, showing a cliff and such. It’s an odd-shaped crook of land, to be sure. But my man in the crow’s nest saw something. There’s an undersea waterfall.”

  Sinia knit her brows in confusion. “I don’t understand, Captain.”

  “That’s the only way to describe it, my lady. There’s some sort of underwater breach. You can see it from high above. The current is pulling us toward it. Do we go around the other side? I’d like you to come and look at it, my lady.”

  “Of course,” Sinia said, pushing away from the table and hurrying after him down the cramped corridor. The crew members, still dressed in their Raven tunics, were hard at work, but many of them were pointing at the island with enthusiasm. It had been two weeks since their last stop. She could smell the difference in the air. Being aboard a vessel for so long had awakened new senses she’d not realized she had.