Ankarette closed her fingers over the pillow. Her heart was pounding, but her nerves were taut. She saw someone move in the shadows of the doorway. The man took one step forward and threw a dagger at Alensson.
Ankarette had expected it after hearing Alensson’s pronouncement about the meal. She flung the pillow at exactly the right moment, and it blocked the dagger from meeting its mark. The old duke was quick and was already leaning to one side. The blade would have sailed past him and crashed into the window if Ankarette hadn’t changed its course. The serving girl shrieked and cowered, gibbering with fear as Ankarette rushed after the murderer.
He was already fleeing back down the steps when she reached the doorway. Her aim with a dagger was better than his.
She had poisoned the tip, naturally, and its venom worked quickly. By the time she reached his trembling body, his eyes had rolled back in his head and his lips had turned blue. She found the poisoner’s supplies and quickly confiscated them. His fall may have been heard lower down the stairs, so she needed to act quickly. She pulled his body back up into the room.
“Garderobe?” she asked, panting with the exertion. All the muck from the privies in castles was sent down garderobe holes, which dumped into the moat around the yard. This palace was built alongside a river, which would make it even easier to hide the body.
Alensson was kneeling next to the girl, comforting her, but he pointed toward the closet.
With a heave, Ankarette tilted the body of the poisoner into the garderobe shaft and listened to the sickening scraping noise it made it as it slid and then plummeted into the abyss.
She was sweating from the work, but she’d dragged bodies before.
By the time she finished, Alensson had gotten the serving girl talking. The poisoner had killed her friend, who’d refused to assist in the murder attempt, and he’d grabbed her next. She was so grateful to be alive, she’d do anything they asked of her.
Alensson patted the serving girl’s shoulder. “Now, you tell the butler, Geoffre, what happened. Do you understand me, lass? Tell him that a man tried to kill me tonight. But you tell him that the old duke won’t be beaten so easily. Don’t tell him about her,” he said, pointing to Ankarette. “Would you do that for me?”
She was sniffling and wiped her nose. “I swear it, my lord. I swear it.”
“Good girl. Now be on your way.” He gave her a kindly smile, and she took the dirty tray and the poisoned tray away.
After she left, Alensson turned to Ankarette. “We worked well together, Ankarette. Would I could persuade you to rescue me from this dungeon. That’s the third time Chatriyon’s son has tried to murder me.”
Ankarette felt bile rise in her throat. “The third time?”
Alensson nodded. “I’m a popular choice for executioners. Yes, I’ve committed treason. Who wouldn’t when you have such a black king.” He enunciated the last two words slowly and deliberately and quite differently, his eyes watching Ankarette’s for a reaction, but he saw only befuddlement. He seemed disappointed.
“King Lewis has an inordinate number of poisoners working for him,” Ankarette said. “They call him the Spider King in the poisoner school in Pisan.”
Alensson chuckled. “A fitting name for a cunning king. His father, my king, had a different title. Chatriyon Le Victorieux. Chatriyon the Victorious.” His face crumpled with resentment.
“I take it you do not agree with the nickname,” Ankarette mused.
Alensson’s frown was fierce. “He never fought in a single battle,” he said tightly, his voice throbbing with anger. “He was a coward, though he justified his cowardice through the claim that his son was too young. If Chatriyon died, it would have been easy for his enemies to fetch and destroy his heir. The Ceredigics are butchers, you know. For them, defeating a man isn’t enough—they also try to wipe out his heirs. They want to end the game, you see,” he added darkly in a half whisper.
“You’ve mentioned that several times,” Ankarette said curiously. “What game?”
He smirked, but Ankarette could see he regretted his choice of words. “The game of war, of course,” he said, covering for himself poorly. “It’s always been played.” That was not what he had meant, and she knew it. There was something more, something deeper that she was beginning to gain awareness of.
“Why did you rebel against your king?” she asked him pointedly.
He folded his arms imperiously. “Let me tell you the rest of her story. We don’t have much time before the guards arrive. You need to be gone unless I can persuade you to take me with you.”
“Tell me the story before I decide,” Ankarette said. It would be difficult smuggling Alensson out of the palace. But she was fascinated by his story and wanted to know more. She knew what had happened to the Maid. That story was famous. But what about Alensson’s wife, Jianne? Had they had any children? Was she still alive?
“I will be brief then,” he said, taking his seat again at the window. “When Lionn fell, my wife came immediately with the court. The Maid had prophesied that she herself would lift the siege and she had. It was absolutely evident that she was truly Fountain-blessed. Word of the victory spread and the Maid insisted that she fulfill the Fountain’s will by bringing Chatriyon to the sanctuary at Ranz and crowning him king. Well, Ranz was inside enemy territory. There were several garrisons of Ceredigic forces occupying defensive positions along the route. The Maid insisted that the army march and clear the way for the prince to attend his coronation. All our enemies would fall.” He laughed and shook his head. “The audacity! She was a spirited girl, Ankarette. I admired her and respected her. And yes, I was envious as well. Why hadn’t the Fountain chosen me to save our people? Why had it entrusted its will to a slip of a girl who should have been carding wool in Donremy? Instead of shearing sheep, she’d shorn her hair, donned a suit of armor, and carried a banner into war. She was extraordinary!” He sighed at the memory. “But my wife was worried about the danger after seeing the battlefield. She grew fearful that something was going to happen to me. She was so worried that I would die.”
His voice became tender as he said the words. “I miss her so.”
“What happened?” Ankarette asked. “Obviously you did survive.”
He grinned at her. “I nearly did not.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A New Heart
Alensson was in a war council with Aspen Hext, Earl Doone, and Genette when word arrived that the prince’s court had been spotted approaching Lionn and would soon arrive. They hovered around the bulky parchment map spread across the circular table where they had been poring over the rivers, cities, and towns of Occitania. Their attention was narrowed on the road from Lionn to Ranz—and its proximity to where Deford’s army from Westmarch was gathering in Pree.
The Maid's War (Kingfountain 0.5)
Jeff Wheeler's books
- The Queen's Poisoner (Kingfountain, #1)
- The Banished of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood, #1)
- The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3)
- Landmoor
- Poisonwell (Whispers from Mirrowen #3)
- Silverkin
- The Lost Abbey (Covenant of Muirwood 0.5)
- Fireblood (Whispers from Mirrowen #1)
- The Blight of Muirwood (Legends of Muirwood #2)
- The Scourge of Muirwood (Legends of Muirwood #3)
- The Wretched of Muirwood (Legends of Muirwood #1)
- The Hollow Crown (Kingfountain #4)