“We must be very careful about this,” Lady Deborah advised. “She cannot be allowed to escape.”
“Agreed, and I have no doubt she would try,” said Ransom. “But she also is the only living person who knows the location of The Hidden Vulgate. It is a dangerous book of great power, and if we can find and bury it, it will be to everyone’s benefit.” He paused, then added, “Alix is Emiloh’s natural daughter. I don’t know that she would want her put to death. She also saved my life, so I do feel a debt.”
“Her actions since do not make up for that,” Deborah said. “We must be careful what we do. A spider cannot injure inside a jar. But if it gets out . . .”
“In addition to giving Prince Devon a chance to grow up, we also need time to train our own poisoner.” He glanced at Cecily. “While they do the same.”
The queen gave him a heated look. “I want her gone, but I’m not an unreasonable woman. I can see the wisdom in not executing her immediately. What do you intend to do to keep my children safe?”
“I’ve seen enough blood to last a lifetime,” Ransom said. “She would need to be imprisoned. Permanently.”
“Where?” asked Simon.
“The dungeon here, for now. Away from any fountain. She must go wherever I go for now. I can sense her presence. I’ll know if she escapes. But I’d trust the Espion to watch over her . . . if you were leading them.”
Simon grinned. “I would be honored.”
“Why is Ransom making all of the decisions?” the queen complained.
“Because he will be the lord protector,” said James at last, setting down the chicken bone on a plate and rising from the chair. “No one else could do it. Your son, Highness, is too young to rule in his own right.”
“I could rule,” said the queen.
James gave her a look of disgust. “You could try.” He looked back at Ransom. “I’m going back to Ploemeur with Lord Montfort. I’ll bring Maeg and our son to the coronation. Do I still get to keep the North? It will take twenty years to recover our losses.”
Ransom nodded. “Come to the coronation.” Then he looked at Lord Montfort. “Will Constance come?”
Lord Montfort pressed his lips together and shook his head no.
“You may come in her stead,” Ransom declared.
“Brythonica will remain an independent duchy,” said Montfort. “But you will find us a strong ally, Lord Ransom.”
Ransom gave him a knightly salute, which was reciprocated.
“I’ll go attend to my children,” said the queen hotly. “Seems that is all I’m good for in your eyes.” She left in a huff, her eyes burning into James.
“And with that display of annoyance, I’ll leave too,” he said with a smirk. Lord Montfort nodded and departed with him.
Once they were gone, the door shut behind them, Ransom turned to Simon.
“I’d like to see Estian,” he said softly. “Bring him here.”
“Alone?”
Ransom shook his head no. “I want all of you here,” he said to the others. “We make this decision together.”
Simon left to release Estian from his cell. After he left the room, Deborah approached Ransom, holding the leather cylinder that contained the charter.
“Can I request, Lord Ransom, that we keep the charter here at Thorngate? There is another copy at the sanctuary of Our Lady if I understand correctly?”
“And more will be made,” Ransom said. “Yes, I think that would be a good thing. Keep it here.”
Lady Deborah smiled, pleased. “Thank you. Thank you for everything, Ransom. If you hadn’t come, the keep would have fallen today. We were desperate. I’ll remind the queen of that. She should be more grateful.”
“Maybe in time she will be,” Ransom said.
Cecily, who’d sat quietly through the meeting, approached him after Lady Deborah retreated with the charter.
“Pisan, is it?”
Ransom shrugged. “Do you object?”
She shook her head. “I hope I won’t be gone for too long. I’m rather partial to one of your knights.”
“So it seems,” Ransom said with a smile. “You know, I had to wait a long time for the woman I loved.”
She gave him an impish smile. “Yes, but that makes me no more eager to suffer through the same. He’s a good man.”
“He is. He could have an heiress, but he wants you. It’s a sign of good judgment.”
Cecily offered a pretty smile. “You’re kind.” Then she turned toward the door. “They’re coming.”
Ransom folded his arms, his gaze fixed on the door as Simon opened it and allowed Estian to enter first. Several knights had escorted them, but they remained outside. Ransom motioned for Simon to join them.
Estian quickly appraised those in the room, but it was Ransom who held his attention. The king’s muddied clothes had been replaced. Some of the king’s belongings had been stolen from his tent after the battle, but they’d managed to bring several chests to the keep, which had supplied a change of royal garb.
Ransom walked to the Wizr board in the middle of the room. When Estian’s eyes fell on it, he blinked with surprise. He clearly hadn’t expected them to retrieve it.
“Tell us what you know about this board,” Ransom said. “How long has it been in your family?”
“Since Leoneyis drowned,” Estian replied smoothly. “It is both great and terrible.”
“What else?” Ransom pressed.
“I don’t understand your question.”
Ransom gave him a warning look. “Tell us what you know of it.”
“Such things should be discussed between kings,” said Estian tightly.
“Alas, but you’ve murdered all of ours,” said Ransom.
“’Tis the way of kings,” answered Estian with a mocking smile. “We all seek to bring one another down, and have for thousands of years. I will humor you, though. This game was made in the East Kingdoms by the great Wizrs. It is not just a game of strategy, but one of dominion. It is a game of dynasties. This particular conflict began over a century ago between Jessup, the Duke of La Marche, and my great-grandfather, King Chatriyon the Wise.”
Ransom furrowed his brow. “Oh?”
“The duke was the bastard son of the king,” said Estian. “Of the same blood as King Andrew, but sullied. They invoked the game afresh. They each made a covenant, binding them to the rules of the game. Ambition and pride are powerful motives. So is hatred. The game will go on for generations until one side wins. Or the Dreadful Deadman returns.”
Simon’s eyebrows creased with confusion.
“You are speaking in riddles,” Ransom said.
“The bastard duke was convinced that he and his line would make stronger kings than Chatriyon’s pampered sons. In order to play the game, he needed to become a king himself first. He only had the resources of a duke, so he had to conquer a stronger force. He chose Ceredigion over the island nations of Brugia or Legault. And Genevar didn’t have a king, just a doge.”
“The conquest,” Ransom said, nodding. “He defeated King Ethelring and claimed Ceredigion.”
“Yes, he took the hollow crown from Ethelring, and that is when this iteration of the game began. A contest between two realms. Claiming a kingdom, however, was easier than keeping it.”
“So it seems,” Ransom agreed. “There were many fights over succession.”
“Yes,” Estian said with a smirk. “That happens when all the heirs are unworthy. My father taught me it is easier to weaken an enemy from within than to destroy it from without. As I’ve learned to my folly. I thought . . . I believed that I would win the game and end it.”
“By destroying us?”
Estian shook his head. “That was never my intention.”
“Your presence here belies those words,” Simon said mockingly.
It also went against Alix’s threat and the Ondine’s warning.
“Only a fool utters things he does not understand,” quipped Estian in rebuke.
“Enlighten us, then,” Simon responded with a look of distrust.
“I had Alix steal the board back because you do not understand it,” Estian said to Ransom. “You risk destroying us all.”
Fate's Ransom(The First Argentines #4)
Jeff Wheeler's books
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