“How wonderful it is for you to forgive such a slight, but I’ll not have people speaking ill of you.” His face was livid with emotion. He was deeply bothered by something. She could see him wrestling inside with some dark emotion.
She wanted to be away from the sanctuary, away from Pree. She was going to best them both during the competition. With the ring in her possession, she would be able to deceive them all even better.
Suddenly Fallon’s expression changed, his eyes bulging. When Trynne turned around, she saw Morwenna striding toward them, a flushed look on her face.
“What is it?” Trynne gasped, running forward and taking the other girl’s arms. “What has happened?”
Morwenna blinked when she saw Fallon. Her eyes went from one of them to the other. Then she shook her head. “There’s little time. We must get to Kingfountain, straightaway. The king sent me to find you.”
The sound of boots came again, and then Elwis was there, his eyes narrowing with concern. “Lady Morwenna, what brings you here?”
“We must all go to Kingfountain,” the poisoner said. “The whole council of the Ring Table has been summoned by the king. The invasion has begun. Gahalatine has attacked Brugia.”
“Where!” Elwis nearly shouted with shock. His eyes were wide with desperation.
“The eastern fortress of Guilme. They attacked by sea.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Troubled Waters
The feeling inside the main hall of Kingfountain was as turbulent as the fountain waters in the chapel. Within the span of a few brief hours, the king’s council had assembled in chairs around the ancient Ring Table. Guards had barred the doors, and no servants were admitted. Trynne had helped bring Fallon’s parents from Edonburick, while her mother and Morwenna had assembled the other nobles of the combined realms.
Trynne did not have a seat at the table, but her eyes kept returning to the one Myrddin had named the Siege Perilous. It was empty at the moment because her parents were standing off to one side, conferring with the king and queen in low tones while the rest of the assembled lords and ladies were discussing the news of the invasion with great agitation. Trynne stood aloof, feeling out of place. Her insides squirmed with worry at the thought of losing her father. There could not be much time left. She knew that she would be asked to stay behind to defend the homeland, but she equally knew that it was the Fountain’s will that she accompany and protect the king. How could she accomplish both?
To drive away her frantic thoughts, she cast her eyes over those assembled. Not since the royal wedding and coronation had so many nobles gathered together. But this was not a festive occasion. The absence of Myrddin was conspicuous.
There, at one end of the table, were Prince Elwis and his taciturn father, heads bent low in conversation. Elwis knelt alongside his father’s chair, speaking to him quietly but urgently. The father kept stroking his lip nervously as Elwis whispered to him, occasionally earning a cross brow or a curt shake of the head.
Fallon paced like an animal in a cage. He longed for conflict, and Trynne could judge from his bearing that he was spoiling for a confrontation with Gahalatine’s hosts. His mother, Elysabeth, could be heard even over the tumult.
“Well yes, Iago, but if we hire Genevese merchant ships, we can triple the number of vessels and transport the soldiers faster.”
“But can we trust the Genevese?” asked Iago Llewellyn disdainfully, shaking his head. “Perhaps they are in league with our enemies.”
Trynne saw the embassy from Occitania, the Queen Dowager Elyse and her son, the child king looking about as out of place as a young man could in such an environment. His eyes were wide and terrified. His mother looked unflustered, but she had the steel of the Argentines in her blood. Standing behind her chair was the aging herald Anjers, who had a keen eye and a wary expression.
Near them sat the Grand Duke of Legault, a vassal of the crown of Ceredigion. Lord Amrein, who was both lord chancellor and head of the Espion, looked pale and troubled as he spoke about the numbers they had been preparing for the invasion. He wondered aloud if it would be enough.
Duke Severn caught her eye next. Although he was not a member of the king’s council, he had commandeered one of the vacant chairs and sat there stiffly, as if the wood bothered his back, a discontented frown contorting his mouth. Morwenna stood at his side, her hand on his shoulder. Seated next to him at the table was his wife, Lady Kathryn, and Trynne saw them holding hands under the table. Severn’s other hand was gripping his dagger, which he slowly drew from the scabbard, then slammed back down. Trynne thought it curious that Morwenna stood by her father’s side, not between him and her mother.
The dukes of East Stowe and Southport were also present, and Lord Ramey tossed up his hands and, patting the table, asked rather vocally when they could begin discussing the threat.
“My lords and ladies, if you’d take your seats,” King Drew said, his voice cutting through the noise. It quelled in an instant.
Most leaned forward, eager to learn more than the scraps they’d been given before the summons.
The noise of chairs scooting finally ceased as everyone took their places. The king remained standing, his knuckles on the table, his handsome face drawn with concern. He was a young man still, a father-to-be, though most in the room didn’t know it. Trynne could feel the palpable worry emanating from him. He wore the hollow crown and it fit him well, but it was a burden at such a moment.
King Drew waited until everyone was seated in the extra chairs brought in for the occasion before lowering himself into his own chair. His voice was firm and controlled when he spoke. “Thank you all for answering the summons. I received word last night that the invasion has begun. Gahalatine’s fleet left Chandigarl weeks ago. I was told”—here he glanced at Trynne’s mother—“that the fleet has attacked Brugia and will besiege the fortress of Guilme. A ship arrived today from Lord Maxwell confirming it and asking for relief. Rucrius’s warning has been fulfilled. He declared war, and Gahalatine has struck.” The king paused then, raking his eyes across those assembled. “It would be tempting to consider that Gahalatine might be satisfied by conquering Brugia alone, but I do not think he will. It is not only your dominions he seeks to conquer, Lord Maxwell, but Kingfountain itself. He is threatened by us. Like any man driven by ambition, he will not rest until he’s succeeded in his aim. If we do not stand all together, we will topple like so many tiles.” He offered Owen a knowing smile. Stacking tiles in intricate designs had been Trynne’s father’s way of filling his well of Fountain magic when he was a young man.
The Hollow Crown (Kingfountain #4)
Jeff Wheeler's books
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- The Lost Abbey (Covenant of Muirwood 0.5)
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