The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)

The chancellor paused and riffled through his papers. “It is my suggestion, based on the evidence, that Morwenna Argentine fell in league with Rucrius at the poisoner school in Pisan. My interviews with Lady Trynne and others suggest that this happened shortly after she began attending the school, when she was very young and malleable. By all accounts, she excelled at her studies—one of the brightest to have passed through that school in a generation. There is no doubt she was ambitious and determined. It is my belief that Rucrius began grooming her to be a double agent for the East Kingdoms. The Mandaryn were charged with finding a suitable bride for Gahalatine, and based on the evidence, it seems they settled on Morwenna. The king entrusted her to visit Chandigarl on multiple occasions. She could have easily used this as an opportunity to provide information to both sides. I do not believe it was her intent to destroy her brother.” He held up his finger as he made that point.

“No, based on Gahalatine’s reputation for supplanting rulers and reassigning them, she may have justified her treason in her own heart and mind with the knowledge that King Andrew would not be killed but sent elsewhere.” He tapped his finger on the solid table.

“But it is still the crime of treason.”

“Are you suggesting that we execute the king’s sister?” Iago said in apparent disbelief.

Lord Amrein pursed his lips. “I am not. There is another suitable punishment that does not require her death.”

“What then?” Iago asked. “Speak up, man!”

“Attainder,” Lady Evie said, sitting forward, her eyes twinkling.

“That’s what he is going to suggest.”

Trynne blinked in surprise, but the answer fit—it seemed an ideal solution.

“My lady, yes,” Lord Amrein said with a chuckle. “I think your knowledge of history exceeds even that of Master Urbino. Do not tell him that I said so, if you please. Yes, she is correct. A bill of attainder against Morwenna Argentine would strip her of all rights, lands, and privileges of her noble blood. It would not preclude her from inheriting, say, lands in Atabyrion, or anything else from her mother’s line. But it would strip her of all rights to the throne of Ceredigion. It would, in essence, remove the opportunity in the future of her ever becoming queen.”

Some murmuring began around the table as the peers of the realm began considering the solution.

Lady Evie spoke up. “Normally attainder follows a crime of treason or felony. For example, if a member of the nobility arranged a murder against another peer—not the king, but a peer—a bill of attainder could be passed to strip away the rights of the criminal’s spouse and heirs before he or she is sent into the river. What you are suggesting is the same legal precedence, only there would be no execution.”

“Precisely,” Lord Amrein said with a bow. “It protects the king’s interests while showing compassion for his sister.”

“Brilliant,” Duke Ramey muttered, nodding vigorously.

“But she’ll not continue serving as his poisoner,” Iago said, tapping his fingers on the wooden round, shaking his head vehemently.

Lord Amrein nodded in agreement. “Clearly not,” he answered.

“She would be confined to an estate, a castle, for example, that could not . . . be reached easily.” His underlying meaning was clear —she would not be allowed near the ley lines. Banished, in essence.

“She seems . . . contrite. She’s cooperated fully with my investigation. Then again, she may be trying to avoid execution.”

“Attainder,” Duke Ramey said, knocking his knuckles on the table.

There was unity in the decision. Trynne felt a twinge of relief, but it was accompanied by a feeling of foreboding. Where could they keep someone like Morwenna? Someone both powerful and dangerous? It seemed like no genteel prison could hold her.

A loud knock sounded at the door and the king’s herald entered.

“Lord Gahalatine of the East Kingdoms,” he announced before sweeping the door open to introduce Trynne’s husband.

Trynne’s heart thrilled when she saw him march into the audience hall, but the feeling was instantly extinguished when she saw the look on his face. There were soot stains on his cheek and his eyes were wells of grief and raw anger. Trynne pushed away from her chair and rose. Something awful had happened.

Seeing her seemed only to aggravate his wounds. There was no look of love in his eyes now. His nostrils flared, his lips curled with contempt. She sensed his Fountain magic was nearly spent.

“My lord, what is wrong?” Drew asked, rising also from his chair.

Trynne approached Gahalatine, reaching out to touch him, but he glared at her, as if warning her not to draw too near. Flakes of ash covered his cloak and his hair. His hands were red and blistered.

Gahalatine’s emotions were so roiling he could hardly speak.

“My city is burning,” he said hoarsely. “The palace is destroyed. My sister . . . is dead.” He tried to speak, but a shudder of emotion stayed his words for a moment. Finally, the words came out in a rush. “Rucrius came. He said the Fountain would punish us for surrendering to you. And then lightning struck. Everything is burning.

Burning to ashes.”





CHAPTER TWO


Forbidden Court


Gahalatine’s words, his apparent grief, stunned everyone into silence. Though ambitious, he was a man of honor, not prone to exaggeration or misrepresentation. Trynne and Morwenna had visited the Forbidden Court together to rescue Lady Evie—before Morwenna’s treachery had come to light. Trynne had marveled at the wealth on such ostentatious display. From a stone barge crossing the great lake at the center of the city, she had seen the golden rooftops glittering in the sunlight. Now her mind imagined roaring flames licking at those rooftops, destroying everything in their path.

All that beauty and opulence gone. She reached out her hand to touch her husband’s arm, but he stiffened and backed away from her, his look one of repugnance.

“This is indeed tragic news,” Trynne said with concern, cringing at his rebuff. She wanted to comfort him, to try to soothe his grief.

She had lost her own brother in a tragedy. She understood the kind of pain he was feeling.

His cold stare sent a shaft of fear into her heart. “Can you even pretend you did not know?” he said in an accusing tone. He looked next at Drew, pinning him with a glare. “Was this not your ruse all along, my lord? Your trickery and deceit? Well, I have sworn myself, and even though it would seem my oaths were made under false pretenses, I am still bound by them.”

Trynne’s fear gave way to terrified panic. “What are you saying?

We had nothing to do with this.”

“Indeed not,” Gahalatine countered angrily. “I bear the blame and I accept it, for I trusted you. As I trusted your king.” He glared at Drew. “The Fountain has punished me for my blindness. For abandoning the charge it had tasked me to complete. It was my decision, and I made it willingly. That is why I am so wretched. I was tricked and deceived. By you”—he looked pointedly at Trynne—“and by the sovereign you would do anything to protect. Your loyalty bound you, no doubt. Just as my honor now binds me.”

Trynne felt her cheeks flush with indignation and dread. Her stomach roiled with confusion. “I have done nothing to deceive you, my lord husband! How can you be so changed? You wrong me to accuse me like this.”

Gahalatine’s cheek muscles twitched as he silently shook with emotion. Trynne reached out to him again with her magic, trying to divine if he were an imposter. No illusion had ever worked on her before. Her senses might be fooled, but not her heart. No, this was Gahalatine—injured, furious, and betrayed.

“Did you not tell me that you killed the Wizr Rucrius?” he challenged.

“I did it with my own sword,” Trynne answered firmly.

“I saw him myself!” Gahalatine snapped. “Very much alive and boasting that the two of you have been in league all this while. That he gave you the Fault Staff to enable you to destroy his fleet at Ploemeur. He says that you have it still.” He held up his hands.

“What am I to think, Tryneowy? All along, I suspected he was trying to induce me to marry the Argentine girl, but he fooled me into falling in love with you.” His lack of love, the violence in his eyes and voice shook her to her core. She was speechless, dumbfounded, horrified.

“He arranged for you to be fed information about my kingdom’s financial straits. I’ve been such a fool. Such a trusting fool. And now the Fountain is punishing me for my arrogance. For my pride. I wed myself to someone far below my station in the hopes of overthrowing the very chains that are now locked about me in every possible way.