The Hollow Crown (The Kingfountain Series Book 4)

by Jeff Wheeler

  “You think I don’t realize that?” Fallon blustered. He rose and stalked away from her, casting a miserable glance at Trynne. “I already feel like a fool. There’s no need to add salt to the wound.”

  Trynne glanced over at Captain Staeli. He had been summoned as well to account for his role in the scene. Elwis had claimed both men had attacked him, and the whole affair had exploded into flaming spurts of accusation and threats of retribution. Trynne sighed. Within hours of Myrddin’s pronouncement, the kingdom was already roiling with inner conflict. Staeli had answered briefly and curtly amidst the passion and bluster. He looked calm, but she watched him pacing slowly along the far wall.

  “I’m not trying to torture you, Fallon; just be sure you’ve learned your lesson.” Lady Evie clenched the bloodstained rag in her hands. “You’re nearly a man now. You can’t afford to make such costly mistakes. Sometimes, we aren’t given a second chance. Actions have consequences.”

  Fallon’s mouth was twisted into a pained frown. “I know, Mother,” he said softly, looking at her with hurt in his eyes. “I will do better next time. Next time, Prince Arse-turias will be the one bleeding on the floor.”

  His mother threw up her hands. “Iago Fallon Llewellyn, have you heard nothing I’ve said this past hour? He shamed you, yes. Even worse, he shamed you in front of your peers and in front of girls. But the blame belongs to you. You assumed that you were better than him. The Espion could have told you that he’s been training since he was ten years old and is likely one of the best swordsmen, if not the best, in Brugia. He’s had four or five masters.”

  Fallon rounded on her amidst his pacing. “And how I am to know such things if no one tells me anything? You and Father are keeping secrets from me right now.” He shot Trynne an angry look as well. “What are you hiding from me?”

  “Fallon,” his mother said curtly, “I would tell you if I could. But we were commanded by the king to keep it silent. Even from you. I see by your angry glance that Trynne hasn’t broken her word either, and I’m proud of her for it. I can expect such discretion from the daughter of Lord Kiskaddon. Apparently it’s too much to expect from my own son?”

  Her last blow rocked Fallon like a punch to the stomach. He stared at her, miserable, and Trynne wished she hadn’t been there to witness his shame.

  A wall of silence came up between them after that, making Trynne squirm inside.

  The noise of approaching bootfalls announced the coming visitors, and Lady Evie walked up to Fallon and mopped the blood from his ear again. He capitulated and then went to one of the benches and sat down, burying his face in his hands.

  The door opened and Trynne’s father came in with King Drew, Queen Genevieve, Iago, and Lord Amrein. The wretched young man looked up at his father as he approached, waiting for another rebuke. Iago put his hand on his son’s shoulder, gazing down at him. Then he patted his shoulder comfortingly and bent lower. Trynne was just close enough to hear his words.

  “Buck up, buttercup. You lost a battle, not the war.” He winked at his son, clapped him hard on the back, and then turned around. His wife gave him a challenging look, and Trynne saw Iago nod sagely to her, as if he agreed with her on every point.

  Genevieve came over and sat next to Fallon on the bench, put a sisterly arm around him, and gently rubbed his back. He gazed sideways at her, looking sheepish. She sighed and shook her head, trying to stifle a smile. Trynne felt a flush of affection for her calming manner.

  “Has Brugia decided to abandon the treaty, my lords?” Lady Evie asked with a sigh. “Out with the worst of it.”

  Trynne’s father smiled wanly and shook his head. “Grand Duke Maxwell is interested in preserving the peace, as are we.” He nodded for the king to continue.

  King Drew started pacing, his hands clasped behind his back. “It’s our thinking that this rupture was intended by Prince Elwis alone. It was probably even staged.”

  “Staged?” Evie asked with concern.

  Drew nodded. “He has a deep hatred of Lord Owen for defeating his father. I think it’s reasonable to deduce that his slight to Trynne was intended to be provoking. He stands to inherit his father’s kingdom and doesn’t want to be beholden to the throne at Kingfountain—or his nemesis. Nor does he likely want to be bound by the principles of Virtus. Quite simply, the young man is a troublemaker.” The king looked pointedly at Lord Amrein. “It’ll be best to keep an eye on him from now on.”

  Lord Amrein nodded. “We have two eyes on him, actually. There are some concerns, my lord, that he’s attempting to woo Lady Morwenna.”

  The king nodded. “So she told me. That won’t be a problem after tomorrow. Best if the lad cools his head across the sea in his own lands. And it seems like someone else might need to dunk his head in the icy river by Dundrennan.” The king smiled at Fallon to mark it as a joke. “Your ear looks painful.”

  “It’s nothing at all, my lord,” Fallon said glumly. “I apologize for making a scene. It won’t happen again.”

  Drew straightened and continued pacing. He glanced at Owen. “Should we tell them now, or later?”

  Trynne looked from her father to the king, and then back. Were they going to share the secret after all?

  “I think now, Your Majesty,” Iago said. He rocked back on his heels, smiling broadly.

  Fallon sat up, his eyes widening with interest.

  “It was Lord Owen’s idea, so he should be the one to tell it,” the king said, gesturing for him to speak.

  Trynne’s father seemed abashed to take the credit. “It was just a suggestion that serves multiple purposes.” He paused, and Trynne’s heart raced with anticipation. Whatever he was about to say would change everything; she sensed it. “We know we are going to be invaded. We need warriors to defend our realm. There is a new generation rising—young men like Prince Fallon and Prince Elwis. In the past, they have always fought one another for fame and land. Now we need them to fight for a common purpose. Princes are ambitious by nature, so glory is a common motivator for many. My idea is to create a custom that unifies our people. We have different languages, different food, different coins even.” Owen walked over to the Ring Table and placed his hand on one of the chair backs. “To earn a seat at this table, a man must pass through an ordeal of sorts. A test not just of fighting prowess and endurance, but also of wisdom and self-discipline. We want clever and judicious warriors to defend our realm, not brute soldiers. My suggestion was that each duchy should create its own ordeal—a rigorous and difficult series of challenges to set apart the champions. Young men from throughout the realm will compete against each other in each of the duchies before earning the right to try their might at the challenge at Kingfountain. The challenges can change and improve from year to year. Only the best will be allowed to progress from one duchy to the next. Accomplishing the trial will earn a badge of honor. Any contest can be attempted more than once, and they’ll be held at varying points during the year.” He paused before continuing. “It will provide the young men a chance to live, for a short while, in the other duchies and learn something of their customs and attributes. It reminds me of something Myrddin once told me. We only hate those whom we do not truly know.”

  Owen fell silent for a moment, looking across those in the room. Trynne felt a sort of hunger begin to rise inside her. For as long as she could remember, she had longed to travel, and the thought of visiting Atabyrion, Legault, Brugia, or Occitania in order to meet the challenges there was intensely appealing. Her arms were still sore from training with Captain Staeli, but she relished the idea of competing for such an honor.

  Fallon came to his feet with fascination. “And a prince could participate alongside a common man?”

  Owen nodded. “Precisely. The seats at this table would not be confined to those of noble blood. Some of the tests would be a trial of arms. But some would also be skills required of soldiers in battle, like climbing siege ladders or lifting heavy weights. As I said, each duchy will create their own. Wi
thin a few years’ time, we’ll have created a tradition that will strengthen and unify the people.”

  “It’s bloody brilliant,” Iago said with a grin.

  “It’s bloody dangerous,” Lady Evie countered, looking worriedly at her son.

  “It is that, Madame,” the king said, walking over to her. “But so is war. And if we are going to be invaded by a stronger force, we will need to meet it with a generation of strong men. Owen will design the contest for the palace, the culmination achievement. And I think even Prince Elwis will be motivated to achieve a place at this table. Perhaps he will temper his resentment and desire for retribution in order to have the glory. I think many young men will do the same.” The king smiled kindly at Fallon.

  Trynne felt the hot burn of ambition inside her own heart. She found herself speaking her thoughts aloud. “What about others participating?” she asked, looking at her father. “Could I compete as well?”

  Fallon looked at her and snorted. “Of course not, Trynne. Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Why is it ridiculous for me to wish to defend my own kingdom as you do?” she challenged. “Father, please! Cannot others be given a chance? The Maid of Donremy fought in battle alongside her men. She wore armor and carried that sword.” She stared at him imploringly, pointing at the blade belted at King Drew’s waist. The other women in the room were looking at her with concern. She knew she was being too passionate, but she could not help herself. If she started now, if she continued working with Captain Staeli . . .

  “Trynne,” Genevieve said, rising from the bench. She came and put her hands on Trynne’s shoulders. “Your courage is commendable, but perhaps we should give this more thought. What king has ever summoned an army of women to fight in battles? It’s never been done to my knowledge.”

  Trynne saw the looks of those around her and knew she’d lost. Genevieve was right. If she were to cross swords with Fallon, he would treat her differently because she was a girl. But if he didn’t know it?

  She closed her mouth and nodded silently. Her eyes met her father’s.

  He was looking at her shrewdly, probably trying to guess what she was thinking.

  “It was just a silly notion, Father,” Trynne said demurely.

  “I’ll say,” Fallon muttered under his breath, his dismissiveness making her burn with fury inside.

  “You’ve always wanted to be a soldier,” Owen said with a knowing smile. “I pray to the Fountain that you will never have to be.”

  As he said the words, she felt a little ripple from the Fountain.

  Queen Genevieve spoke up next. “What will you call this challenge? Have you given it a name?”

  Lord Owen nodded. “It will be called the Gauntlet.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Farewell Flowers

  It was nearly time to return to Ploemeur, but Trynne was not ready to leave Kingfountain. She had been excited to attend Drew and Genevieve’s wedding for months. The fallout of everything that had happened—of everything that would happen—had irrevocably altered her. She could feel the difference in her thoughts, and even though the palace was the same as it had always been, it felt as if her childhood were dying before her eyes. And so, in an outward act of defiance, not yet willing to let go, she visited some of her old childhood haunts to soak up the memories that she would need to sustain her in the months ahead. In a way, it was like saying farewell to the past.

  She had saved one of her favorite places in the world for last—the garden on the western portion of the grounds in the lower slope of the hill. Kingfountain’s palace was built atop the hill and surrounded by multiple defensive walls, each one filled with groves of trees, gardens, and the occasional fountain. She liked this one best because it was the location of the Espion porter door that her father had used to sneak to the sanctuary of Our Lady when he was a child. She had needled him to share the story with her repeatedly because it was his first memory of experiencing the power of the Fountain. He had learned that one of his gifts of the Fountain was the ability to resist the magic of others—just like Trynne could do.

  That portion of the grounds was full of trimmed lawns and hedges, a spacious fountain, and beautiful magnolia trees. She had many memories of going there with Fallon. In fact, one of her earliest memories was watching him climb the crooked limbs of the trees with their glossy green leaves and pinkish-purple buds. The grove was blooming because of the spring season, and it gave the air a heady smell. Captain Staeli was back by the gate leading into the garden, leaning against the wall with one foot planted back against it, his thumbs hooked in his belt as he scanned the garden. Trynne knelt in the grass beneath one of the huge magnolias, where many of the strange seed pods were strewn about. She picked one up, touching the fuzzy skin and ridges, smiling at the remembrances of how she used to play with them after they’d fallen.

  She breathed in the smells as she ran her fingers through the grass next, wishing she could take the entire garden with her to Ploemeur. She loved the city of her birth, but it had different smells because of the different trees and foliage. Eucalyptus trees were common in Brythonica and the air had the smell of the sea, even deep inland. Oh, how she longed to visit all of the different realms, to taste the food and learn about the customs and traditions, as the young men would be allowed to do. At least her little brother would inherit the duchy someday, so she would not be stuck in Ploemeur forever. She would marry, and then a new kingdom would become her home.

  The wind rustled the magnolia branches and blew strands of hair across her face. She smoothed them back and closed her eyes, just enjoying the feel of the breeze. Who would she marry? The thought of Prince Elwis brought a flash of resentment and anger. No, she could never marry a man like him. That image was quickly followed by one of Fallon punching Elwis and knocking him down. She was chuckling at the thought when a fuzzy seed pod thumped on the grass next to her.

  Opening her eyes, she reached out and picked it up, rubbing her thumb along the velvety edge. Seed pods were shaped like a torch, with long, striated stems that could be broken off. The bulb was soft, similar to a pinecone except velvety in texture, and each segment ended in a tiny black curl. Hidden inside were little red seeds. She’d tried eating one when she was a child, but someone had scolded her and told her they were poisonous. Nothing had ever happened to her as a result. She brushed the seed pod against the tip of her nose and then another one landed on her shoulder.

  Trynne looked up curiously, but the tree was bulging with flowers and leaves. Still, she had a sinking suspicion that she was not alone. She looked away and smoothed her skirts across her knees, feigning disinterest in her surroundings as she reached out with her magic. The Fountain magic came to life within her quickly, trickling from her fingers and toes and stretching out in tendrils.

  And that’s when she sensed the person hiding behind another tree, off to her right. The presence did not feel threatening or dangerous, and she instantly realized that Fallon had beaten her to her favorite place. He’d seen her enter the garden and had hidden himself to watch her. Now, he was throwing seed pods at her.

  Well, two could play childish games.

  Trynne innocently picked up several of the pods and collected them on her skirt. She could sense where he was crouching and hiding, and now that she was listening, she could hear a stifled laugh. It made her ears burn pink. She gathered five or six pods surreptitiously and then straightened her back to him, gazing toward the distant porter door. In her mind, she could see him leaning away from the tree, arm cocked back to lob another one at her.

  Her magic gave her a definite advantage. It was like having eyes all around, able to sense him and his weaknesses all at once. She sensed the pain in his ear and the dull ache in his bowels from his earlier injuries. He would not be able to move as quickly now.

  Before he could follow through on his intent to hit her again, Trynne gripped a seed pod in one hand, turned, and sent it winging at him. As soon as it struck him on the shoulder,
she gathered up the others and rolled on the grass to put her tree in between them.

  A pod zoomed at her and missed. “That was a lucky shot!” he taunted her.

  Trynne felt her stomach become giddy with excitement. She quickly scrabbled to her feet, then threw another pod at him as he changed position. That one struck the tree instead. Suddenly he was charging her from around his side of the tree, scooping up several more pods and chucking them at her in rapid succession. They clattered against the bark, but Trynne didn’t stay put. She raced around the other side of the tree and hurled another one at him, catching his arm, and then raced to the safety of another magnolia. The branches were so low she had to duck, but they protected her as another pod sailed toward her. It clacked into the branches, sending down some petal wedges and more seed pods.

  Although she still clutched three or four pods, she snatched another one up from the ground and flung it at him as he came charging. He dodged it, then pelted her with the ammunition he’d grabbed. She deflected one with her arm, but another hit her ribs, riling her further.

  He was nearly to the tree, so she ducked beneath the branches again and ran. With his long legs, he could easily outrun her, so she dodged around the tree she’d originally crouched behind, using the forked branches as a partial shield, and sent the rest of the pods at him in a volley. Her heart was hammering with the excitement of the combat. She couldn’t hold back a smile, even though she knew it made her ugly. As he reached her tree, she feinted one way, then took off another, but her hair got snagged in a branch and yanked her back. She clawed at the branch and freed herself a moment later and tried to run.

  “Caught you!” Fallon yelled triumphantly and grabbed her around the waist from behind to prevent her from fleeing. She was about to start beating him with her fists when he swung her around in a huge circle. He kept spinning them both around and her stomach gurgled with the motion as he went faster and faster.