The Maid's War (Kingfountain 0.5)

“There is a certain power that comes from confession,” he whispered gravely. “Speaking to you tonight has helped, in a small way, unlock some chains that I’d bound myself with over the years. Yes, I was tempted by the sword. It is the nature of magic, I think, to invoke such feelings. It is the nature of men to be ambitious.” He cocked his head. “Your own king is proof of that.”

Ankarette smiled knowingly. “He shares that quality, to be sure. But he’s had his own portion of troubles. He’s lost his kingdom twice. Won it thrice. It’s almost as if it were a game.”

He gave her a look that was wise and cunning and full of secrets. She hungered to learn everything he knew—not only because it would help her king, but also because she derived pleasure from knowing secrets.

“War is a game,” he said after a lengthy pause. “We won that round at Lionn.”

“What about the other soldiers from Ceredigion, the ones who were besieging the larger part of the city? You took the Turrels, but what happened to the rest of the army?”

Another smile quirked his mouth. “Another good question, Ankarette. The balance had shifted. They knew they were falling, yet our foes were courageous. The Ceredigions knew Deford would come with a larger army, and he was not a forgiving man. If they had fled without a fight, he would have punished them severely.”

“It’s also not wise to turn your back on an army seeking revenge,” she added thoughtfully.

“Precisely. No, the surviving enemy forces had gathered into an army outside of Lionn, along the road leading back to Pree. They thought we were going to attack them, you see, which”—he tapped his chin and then wagged his finger at her—“was precisely what any reasonable battle commander would have suggested. But the Maid was no ordinary battle commander. The army was hers, by this time, surely you realize that. Doone and I may have held rank. Lord Hext may have been taller and stronger. But everyone looked to the Maid for direction, including those I just mentioned.”

Ankarette waited a moment, watching his eyes narrow slightly. “What did her voices tell her to do? What was the Fountain’s will?”

He gazed at her. “It was the feast day of St. Kathryn. I don’t think any of us remembered it. But the Maid did. She said we would not fight a battle on a feast day.”

She looked at him with startled surprise. “But surely the Ceredigic army—”

He waved her quiet. “We arrayed our troops across from theirs. Most of their archers had been killed at the towers, so they had few left. There was perhaps a stone’s throw between our camps, and both were bristling with spears and swords, waiting for the order to attack. Genette said that if they attacked us, we could destroy them. But she would not order an attack on a feast day. Instead, she summoned the deconeus from the sanctuary inside Lionn, and he heard confessions and accepted prayers. He walked down the line of soldiers, going from man to man, including Genette herself. All the while, our enemies looked on in surprise. They saw that we weren’t going to attack them, so they were poised to attack us. If one dirk had been hurled, it would have been a bloodbath. There were no taunts this time. Both sides were edgy, unsettled, keening for a fight. Genette was there with her sword and banner, waiting for them to make the first move. Preposterous! No one starts a battle that way! It was one of the most amazing sights I’d ever seen. And then . . . poof!”

Ankarette blinked. “What?”

“They left,” he said with a laugh. “Their army crumpled. They lowered their swords and spears and began to retreat. The back ranks first, then the middle, and then finally the front. They turned and departed.”

“And then you chased them?” she asked with a quizzical look.

“Then we chased them,” he answered. “Nothing serious. Mostly to stop their siege engines from being used elsewhere. We raided their baggage, took their treasure.” His eyes glittered at the word.

“And you got a share of it?”

He nodded. “Finally. You must understand, Ankarette. All of Prince Chatriyon’s support came from rich nobles who wanted to keep him on a short leash. He said he couldn’t afford to reward me, but I think . . . I think that in time he grew to hate being on a leash himself, so he liked to strand others who were in that situation. I used part of the treasure I earned at Lionn to repay some of the debts my wife had incurred to achieve my release. It wasn’t enough . . . not hardly! But it helped me take my first few breaths of freedom. The Maid had conquered Lionn in four days and not a single Ceredigion soldier was left. In fact, we wreaked havoc on them all the way back to Pree.”

He paused again, listening intently.

She heard it too. The sound of steps coming up the stairwell outside the tower. Ankarette’s heart began to pound and she cursed herself. She was so absorbed by his story that she’d allowed herself to forget that she was a poisoner inside an enemy castle in the heart of the enemy court, while her king’s army was a league away, getting ready to continue the war the Maid had ended decades before.

“The bed,” Alensson said, pointing to it, but she was already on her way there. If she hid behind the tall mattress, she could slip under it if she needed to and give herself more time to hide. The footfalls in the stairwell were too soft to be from a man’s boots. It was probably a servant.

She reached the hiding place just as a knock sounded at the door.

“Enter!” Alensson said gruffly.

A maid entered the room with a tray of bread and cheese. Ankarette knelt by the bed, positioning a pillow in front of her face. It concealed her, but she had left a gap so she could watch. The girl’s hair was a little disheveled, and the lacings at the front of her servant’s gown had been hastily tied. Her hands were shaking, making the tray rattle slightly.

“For you, my lord,” the girl stammered, walking in. “Where would you like the tray?”

“I don’t recognize you,” Alensson said. “Where is Katalina?”

“She’s . . . sick,” the girl apologized. Ankarette could hear the lie. The girl’s face was pale. Her eyes were lowered, but she kept starting to turn and then stopping. Ankarette deduced that she hadn’t come alone and the person who had come with her was skilled at moving quietly.

“Right over there, if you please,” Alensson said, motioning to the small table where the remains of his dinner still sat. “Take the other tray with you, girl.”

“Yes, my lord. Anything else, my lord?” The girl was absolutely frantic to leave. She hastily went to the table, then set down the new tray and began cleaning up the other one.

“Yes, one thing.”

The girl paused, her shoulders quivering. “Yes?”

“Tell the man who poisoned my food that I’m not very hungry.”