Ransom stared at the king in disbelief, his emotions churning beneath a veneer of calm. Connaught had fallen so quickly? He’d imagined it would take months to lay siege to it. He’d hoped they’d last long enough for winter to come, forcing Faulkes to withdraw for a season. But Dearley was dead . . . and Simon . . . and this man was smiling. His gaze traveled to the sharp knife at the side of the king’s plate. For a moment, he considered grabbing it and plunging it into Jon-Landon’s neck.
The urge for violence pulsed until he saw red, but he managed to thrust it down, even as it threatened to drive him mad. Jon-Landon wouldn’t realize how close he’d come to dying at that moment.
“What?” Jon-Landon scoffed. “You lost. I’ve defeated you. And you’ve nothing to say?”
Ransom looked him in the eye, feeling the sear of anger and grief. “My lord, by the Fountain’s grace, I have been loyal to you all the while. I came when you summoned me, even though my friends warned me against it. But I didn’t want to believe, my lord, this is how you would reward my faithfulness to you and your family.”
Jon-Landon lifted his goblet to drink, but it was empty. He thumped it hard on the table and scowled at a nearby servant, who rushed to fill it.
“Then I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” he said to Ransom, not meeting his gaze. “Go. I cannot bear the sight of you.” He grimaced with loathing and contempt.
Ransom left the great hall in a daze, anger chafing inside his heart. Disbelief and loss crawling through him. Dearley was dead? Simon too? What of Dawson? Had he remained in the castle to defend Claire? He gazed up at the stars dappling the sky, wanting to let out a roar of anguish.
He only let it out when he was sure there was no one to hear him.
I can scarce trust my hand to write these words. It is over. We have won. The risk was great, which makes the victory all the sweeter. The army of Ceredigion is vanquished, and we have a surfeit of hostages to bargain for peace. I’m in awe at the suddenness of the transformation of our fortunes. Here is our story.
I chose to hide the bulk of our forces in the hunting woods but also another contingent in marshland to the southeast. We cleared all traces of our presence and awaited the enemy’s arrival. I had proposed that Dearley defend the castle because I know he isn’t as strong at arms as Dawson and also because Elodie is pregnant with their child, but he made an impassioned plea not to be set aside. He swore it was his duty to risk his life for his lord and his lady, that Ransom had suffered grievous wounds on his behalf, and that it was his right, as first knight, to stand in his lord’s place. He argued that Dawson, who was the best champion we have, should guard my life with his own and see to the defense of the castle if our plan failed. We discussed it openly, with great candor, and I felt I could no more deny him that right than I could have done to my husband.
Dearley led a rousing speech before they left the castle. He spoke from the heart, sharing the common feeling of loyalty and love that my husband’s knights share for him. He said that the Fountain would be with us if they stayed true to their oaths, for they were defending home and hearth from a dishonorable man. Even though we were outnumbered, we would fight with the strength of true lions, not false ones made of thread and worn on badges. I was impressed by Dearley’s vigor. He saluted us and led the forces into the woods while Captain Baldwin hastened the younger lads to the marshes. Simon led the reserves, and it was agreed he would choose the best moment to interject them.
Faulkes was blind to our intrigues. His army came like a mighty, lazy bear, so confident in its muscle and claws that it plopped down in the meadow at the foot of Connaught and proceeded to nap. Foragers were sent into the woods to start cutting down trees for firewood. Our archers abducted them in small groups. We watched them build their camp, and we paraded the same men back and forth along the walls of Connaught to make it look as if our entire force were encamped within. We had servants clanging pans and blacksmiths denting bits of iron to add to the noise.
At nightfall, Dearley launched his attack from the woods. The bear was roused from its slumber, but it was too disoriented to know where to strike. Nor did he know the land as we do. He attacked and retreated and then attacked again. Baldwin’s youths struck from the rear, confusing the bear even more.
By morning, Faulkes found that his mercenaries had abandoned him and half of his Gaultic henchmen had fled in the night. Seeing the disarray, I ordered Dawson to charge down from the castle with the remaining defenders, and he did so, riding Dappled and shouting the battle cry Dex aie! It felt as if Ransom had returned. The weary soldiers from the marshes and the woods rallied once more and surrounded Faulkes’s men, who surrendered and begged for quarter. Though they would have given us none had the situation been reversed, we granted it, for we are made of better stuff than they. Faulkes was brought to the castle under guard and unceremoniously chained in the dungeon along with his captains.
Dawson led a counter force of knights to chase after the mercenaries and routed them before they could reach Atha Kleah. Then he marched his prisoners to Atha Kleah and retook the fortress. They were met by a rejoicing mob, as our people had already grown resentful of Faulkes’s broken oaths. Simon sustained some injuries in the battle, but he’s hale. Dearley, I’m so proud of John Dearley. His victory increased his stature today. He’s a new man. I’ve never seen Elodie more honored.
I’m now in Atha Kleah, ready to mete our rewards and punishments to those who have earned them. I’ve sent a missive to Jon-Landon to negotiate terms. Now that we’re no longer cut off, I’ve learned the king is facing threats on all sides. He cannot send more knights to subdue us. On the contrary, if he releases Ransom, he can gain the help he desperately needs.
I await his response.
—Claire de Murrow, Queen Once More
Atha Kleah
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A Key in a Well
Ransom was tormented by the deaths of his friends. When he remembered that Elodie was still with child, the grief nearly broke him. He’d always imagined Dearley would outlast him, that he’d help carry Ransom’s funeral boat. It should not be the other way around. Elodie’s despair would be limitless. He prayed to the Fountain her child would survive, to keep Dearley’s name more than just a memory.
Simon was dead as well. He’d been a trusted friend and confidant since they were both in service to Devon the Younger. What of old Captain Baldwin? Surely he had survived? The old captain was too stubborn to die.
On that hurried ride back to the palace, he managed to keep his composure. He pretended he was made of stone. But inside, he wrestled against a beast that demanded revenge on the last Argentine son. He knew those thoughts would lead to madness, to betrayal, and he fought them, but it seemed as if he battled a mythical beast that only grew stronger the more he lashed at it within his mind.
He worried he would lose his sanity. That he would do something unthinkable.
It didn’t help that the knights of the entourage kept giving him pitying looks. At least, that was how he interpreted them. He’d never liked being a spectacle, even back in his tournament days. Each glance made him long to leave more fervently, to go back to Legault so he might comfort the mourning and honor the dead.
The journey finally ended, and they reached the palace. Ransom went looking for his sons to relate the tragic news to them. At least he would be there to comfort them. He searched in the kitchen first, but the boys weren’t there. He made a circuit of the castle’s interior, stopping servants occasionally, before one finally revealed that she’d seen the boys from a window and thought they were still in the palace gardens. He asked which gardens, was told, and then hurried there, his mood black from the weight of his burdens.
He left the palace and started through the garden, passing the tree that he and Claire had once gotten stuck in. It caused a flash of hurt inside him, but his mind went blank when he heard a cry of pain.
“Let him go!” Willem shouted.
Fate's Ransom(The First Argentines #4)
Jeff Wheeler's books
- The Queen's Poisoner (Kingfountain, #1)
- The Banished of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood, #1)
- The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3)
- Landmoor
- Poisonwell (Whispers from Mirrowen #3)
- Silverkin
- The Lost Abbey (Covenant of Muirwood 0.5)
- Fireblood (Whispers from Mirrowen #1)
- The Blight of Muirwood (Legends of Muirwood #2)
- The Scourge of Muirwood (Legends of Muirwood #3)
- The Wretched of Muirwood (Legends of Muirwood #1)
- The Hollow Crown (Kingfountain #4)
- The Silent Shield (Kingfountain #5)
- The Maid's War (Kingfountain 0.5)
- The Thief's Daughter (Kingfountain #2)
- Knight's Ransom (The First Argentines #1)
- The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)
- Lady's Ransom (The First Argentines, #3)