The Silent Shield (Kingfountain #5)

They appeared inside the gurgling waters of one of the palace’s fountains.

As they stood in the waters, Trynne wrenched Rucrius’s arm behind his back at an angle that was excruciatingly painful. His brow wrinkled, but he kept himself from grimacing. She could see that he resented the indignity of being roughly treated by her.

“You will submit and walk with me side by side,” Trynne said, “or I will knock you unconscious myself and have soldiers drag you in front of my king in a heap.”

Rucrius glowered at her, but he could not speak. His mouth was gagged to prevent him from uttering any words of power. There was no torchlight in the small chapel, so his eyes no longer glowed like a cat’s. He inclined his head submissively, but his cheek twitched.

Trynne stepped over the rim of the fountain and they were immediately met by knights wearing the livery of the Sun and Rose.

“Lady Trynne!” one of them said, gawking in surprise when he saw her prisoner.

“Where is the king?” she asked, starting to march down the corridor, her hand gripping Rucrius’s fingers. It was easier to control someone that way; she could immobilize the Wizr quickly if he tried another rash act. Her heart was still palpitating from their struggle along the ley lines. Had she not been anticipating such an act, she may have found herself in the Forbidden Court.

“He’s at the Ring Table,” the soldier answered. He barked a quick command, and one of the knights ran ahead.

Being away from Ploemeur gave Trynne a feeling of vulnerability. She had warned the palace staff to keep her departure a secret. While the other survivors of the shipwrecks did not seem like a threat, she worried that the fleet from Legault would swoop down on them next. The protection she owed her people weighed heavily on her.

As they approached the audience hall, muted murmuring could be heard from the open doorway where the guards were stationed. As soon as Trynne entered the hall, the conversation cut off. Duke Ramey’s jaw went slack at the sight of the captured Wizr. Queen Genevieve was there, cradling her baby in her arms, and she looked at Trynne in wonderment. King Drew was standing, his fists planted on the table, his mouth still open to deliver whatever remark he’d intended to make to Duke Severn. Fallon was seated in the chair called the Siege Perilous, his elbows on the rests, his fingers splayed. He watched her enter, his expression brooding and somber, and then his gaze shifted to Rucrius, whom he regarded with open enmity.

Elwis, who had been pacing around the table, halted when he noticed her. He looked relieved to see her, but also very agitated.

Drew spoke first. “We were attacked by Gahalatine’s forces in four locations at once. To execute such a precise strike across such great distances must have required knowledge and power beyond anything we have yet experienced from our enemy. Three lands have fallen to the might of Gahalatine. But one of ours prevailed. My sister brought me the good news, Trynne.” He smiled and shook his head. “So it is true? Brythonica has not fallen?”

“We stand ready to defend the hollow crown, my king,” Trynne said humbly, bowing her head. “I have brought the Wizr Rucrius as a prisoner. He is dangerous still and his words are powerful.”

Duke Severn straightened, folding his arms. “Then let’s be done with him,” he offered with a cold look. “Send him to Dundrennan, my lord. Chain him to the rock. Let him speak to the ice and wind.”

“I will gladly take him there if you bid me, my lord,” Fallon said. He had not stopped staring at Rucrius, his eyes burning with anger. “I suspect he knows where Lord Owen is. And my mother.”

Genevieve continued to rock from foot to foot, patting the babe’s back gently, but there was a thoughtful look in her eyes.

The Wizr’s gaze was disdainful as he looked on his captors. He did not seem like a defeated enemy, even with the gag in his mouth.

“Take him to Holistern Tower,” the king ordered. “He will only be ungagged in the presence of my sister and Lord Amrein to eat his food. Death will be your reward if you defy me, Rucrius,” Drew said with a stern and hard edge in his voice. “When you last troubled us with your presence, I ordered Lord Owen to arrest you. I am grateful his daughter has fulfilled that command. Take him away and alert me when my sister returns.”

“I am here,” Morwenna said, shutting the paneled door behind her. She had just entered the room from one of the secret Espion passages, her hair windblown. She gazed at Rucrius in surprise. “Where is your staff, Wizr?” she asked, despite his inability to respond.

“I took it from him,” Trynne answered. The way Morwenna had asked about it disturbed her.

Severn’s daughter blinked as she turned. “Well done, Trynne. In my errands to the East, I learned that Rucrius was the Wizr entrusted with the Fault Staff. It is a relic with great power.”

“It is safe where I have hidden it,” Trynne answered vaguely. She did not mention the Tay al-Ard. She did not trust Morwenna to be alone with Rucrius and would have objected if the king hadn’t demanded that Kevan also be present at the inquisition. Her father had always trusted the master of the Espion.

“What would you have me do, Brother?” Morwenna asked, smiling at him. “You were going to send for me?”

“Go with Lord Amrein and take Rucrius to Holistern. See that he is fed, but do not allow him to speak. We will discuss his fate in council.”

“As you will, my lord,” Morwenna said with a bow. Lord Amrein summoned a group of knights, and together they left through the door of the audience hall. Trynne saw Fallon rise from his chair and whisper something to Morwenna. The poisoner nodded briefly before leaving with the group that had fallen in around the prisoner. Rather than sit down, Fallon leaned against the back of his chair. As Trynne stared at him, she felt distrust welling up from deep inside her.

“Trynne, how did you do it?” Genevieve asked, coming toward her, concern nakedly evident on her face. “The fleet . . . Gahalatine . . . how? All the other places that were attacked crumpled.”

She was still weary from all the work they’d done to rescue the survivors, exhausted from the lack of sleep. She met Genny with a gentle hug, careful not to press against the baby.

“Gahalatine’s fleet was disrupted by a rogue wave that struck our shores,” she said, not wanting to reveal the full truth in front of the gathered audience. Of those present, the only people she felt she could trust without reserve were the king and queen. “Our navy was patrolling outside the cove when it struck. I consider it a blessing from the Deep Fathoms that protected us.” What she said was truthful. But she withheld the rest to be told later in confidence.