The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)

The rest was fitful, and she’d often awoken with her pulse racing, fearing someone wanted to hurt her.

Each day she checked with the healers on Morwenna’s progress. The poisoner had not regained consciousness for more than brief moments, just enough to sip some broth. She had lost a lot of blood, and the injuries all over her body were frightening. There was no spark of Fountain magic in her. Trynne made sure she was guarded night and day.

As Trynne stared at herself in the mirror, looking at her simple soft gown, she saw that her own scars had indeed healed. At least the ones on the outside. Her hair was clean and brushed, her skin scrubbed relentlessly to free it from the caked-in dirt from her perilous journey. She had bruises on her arms and puckered skin that had been stitched and restored. As she gazed at herself, she felt older than her years, wearied by the ordeals she had faced.

She blinked, feeling suddenly on the verge of tears. Her husband, Gahalatine, had been kissed by Morwenna. He was infected by the disease that she had sensed while in the world of Muirwood. There was no cure for it. What fate did it spell for Gahalatine’s people, for the East Kingdoms? Was Morwenna right?

Would the game end with Gahalatine’s death? Would his vast domains incur the floods of the Deep Fathoms? She dreaded it was so. Surely Sunilik was still on his way back to those lands. The journey took several months at sea.

A soft knock sounded at the door, and Trynne turned in her seat, feeling some of her stitches pull with the movement. She winced before calling out, “Yes?”

The door was opened by Thierry. “Good morning, my lady. I knocked softly because I wasn’t sure if you were still abed. You look much improved.”

Trynne rose from her seat and walked to him. “Has Morwenna awakened?”

He shook his head no. “She is still fighting for her life. She murmurs in her sleep. No, I came with news. King Drew’s herald just arrived. The king is at his heels with your father and Captain Staeli.

They’ve crossed into Brythonica with a small retinue of knights and are coming to Ploemeur. They should be at the palace by midday.”

Trynne’s brow furrowed. “He’s come here? I was going to go to Kingfountain to—”

Thierry held up his hand. “I took the liberty, my lady, of dispatching a trusted servant to the palace to apprise the king of your success in capturing his sister. And of the injuries you sustained. But my messenger found them already en route. He returned with the herald after delivering the message. The king is eager to declare to the world that you are no traitor to Kingfountain, but its greatest hero. Your husband was too ill to ride.”



She blinked with surprise—so full of emotion she was not sure how to interpret her feelings. “And my father is with them?”

“He is indeed. They stopped at Tatton Hall yesterday.

Apparently there was a great deal of commotion upon his arrival.”

Thierry grinned at her.

Trynne nodded, feeling how strange the world had become. “If they’ve entered the borders of Brythonica through Westmarch, they will come by way of the grove, will they not?”

“Aye,” Thierry said. “I thought you might care to meet them there?”

Trynne nodded. “I would. Please keep a constant vigil on Morwenna. I don’t think she is a danger to anyone in her state, but I dare not take that for granted.”

“Of course, my lady.” He paused, hesitating.

“What is it, Thierry?”

“Will you . . . will you be staying among us for a while? Or do you plan to return to Averanche? The people long for you to stay. To remain and accept your rightful place here. There have been flowers sent to the castle, baskets of berries and jams. Small tokens of respect and honor. They continue to come daily, hoping for a glimpse of you. I know you prefer your privacy. But the people still need you.”

She knew that it was truly the Fountain’s power that had saved them, but his words humbled her. Still, she longed to walk the battlement walls of Averanche, to start training again with the Oath Maidens. With Captain Staeli.

“When I go, I won’t be gone for long, Thierry,” she promised, touching his arm. “I’ll return soon.”

“Of course, my lady,” he said, bowing respectfully.

Trynne was grateful she had taken a cloak with her to the grove, for it was cool in the shade. Dark, violent memories from her last visit to the grove flashed through her mind and made her tremble. The dead had all been cleared away and buried in the woods. New leaves had fallen across the stone plinth, and the silver dish looked ancient as it stood before the broken stones of the cave. She gave the huge oak tree a wary look. It wasn’t as enormous as the one they had discovered beyond the abbey’s ruined walls, but could it really be a coincidence that both were oaks?

Fallon’s suggestion surfaced once again in her mind. Would it restore her father and Gahalatine? She gave it a wary look, careful not to gaze at it for too long. She didn’t want her own memories purged. The tree felt docile, harmless. But so did the silver bowl until the water was poured from it.

She heard voices in the distance and the tramping of boots through brush. She sensed the presence of a Fountain-blessed and suspected it was her father. But after all the difficulties she’d faced in her young life, she was no longer willing to take anything by chance.

She walked away from the grove and soon met the king, her father, and Staeli along the path. The other retainers held back, keeping their distance.

“Lady Trynne,” the king said, staring at her in awe.

“Your Majesty,” she replied with a bow. Then Trynne smiled and gently embraced her father. He hugged her back, but there was still a certain aloofness in his eyes, the look of a stranger. She had gotten part of him back. She wanted the rest.

“Captain,” she said, smiling fondly.

“Hello, lass,” he said with a small bow.

“I was fearful we’d find you laid up on a sickbed,” Drew said.

“But we find you roaming the woods, much recovered. Your family has always healed quickly. It’s good to see you so hale,” he said, reaching out and taking her hand. He kissed it in a token of utmost respect.

“Have you sent for Genny?” she asked.

Drew nodded. “I told her that I would come to Dundrennan myself. To await me there. I understand that she is safe, that she has our child. Kate’s health is still not fully restored from the poison administered to her, but she is recovering. I thought . . . she was already dead.” His countenance fell. “I’m troubled at how the grief affected me. How it blinded me to my sister’s illusions. Your father has explained his journey to me. The realms he visited and the trust he earned serving the King of Dahomey.” A smile quirked on his mouth. “It does not surprise me in the least. But can nothing be done for his memories, Trynne? He has lost all his past. I still sense the same personality in him, but it truly is a grievous curse for him to lose his memories.”

Trynne stared at her father, seeing the anguish in his eyes. He wanted to remember. She wanted it too.

“Fallon was the one who unraveled all of Morwenna’s secrets,”

Trynne said.

“I never thought to admit this, but I do miss him,” Drew said seriously. “I’ve not only lost my brother-in-law. He has changed much over the last years. And he gave up his own future, willingly, to trade places with your father.” He shook his head in wonderment.

“Fallon believed that the oak tree yonder is important. I have hoped that Morwenna would revive soon. I have so many questions for her.”

Those questions had been running through Trynne’s mind again and again over the days of her convalescence. Where had Morwenna hidden the blade Firebos? Where was her father’s scabbard?