“All the lads and lasses—save these, of course—are down in the dungeons and treasure rooms. The king is in the great hall. We’ve barricaded all the doors. This is the last one.”
Trynne nodded, and Staeli turned and opened the door to the great hall. It was full of soldiers, both wounded and hale, and it was absolute mayhem. Some of the injured knights of the North were drinking from cups pressed into their hands, before rising once more to continue the fight. Groans and murmurs filled the hall, and Trynne saw King Drew talking to one of the maidens, giving instructions and pointing. He turned and saw her and his fierce expression wilted into relief.
“Get these doors barred!” Staeli ordered. “Use those water barrels, I don’t care if they’re full. They are going to fight us for every inch, by the blood. It’s almost dawn. Hold steady. Hold steady.”
As she hurried toward Drew, Trynne saw Fallon leaning over Morwenna, who sat slumped on the floor. The poisoner nodded her head slowly, her face ashen, as he took a cup from her. Then she caught sight of Trynne walking toward them, and she covered her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with the power of her sobs. Fallon looked over his shoulder to see what had caused the reaction and then leaped to his feet.
He rushed up to Trynne, gazing at her like she was a ray of sunlight. “Where have you been? I’ve had everyone looking for you. Some said you never made it in from the courtyard. I’ve been worried to death you were trapped out there in the blizzard!”
“I used the ley lines,” she told him, feeling pleased that he had worried, grateful to be back with him. Still, even though she knew Morwenna needed a friend now more than ever, she could not lie to herself. It bothered her to see them together. “I’m all right.”
“Trynne!” Drew sighed, reaching them. He gripped her arm tenderly.
“I’m all right,” she repeated. A part of her wanted to tell them what happened in Pisan, but she also wanted to block the memories forever.
“I have word from the Espion that Grand Duke Elwis and his army are on the march. They are rushing to Dundrennan. They bid us to hold fast. They’re coming.”
“I don’t know how long we can hold out,” Trynne said, shaking her head.
“My lord, they are coming!” someone shouted.
“Keep blocking the doors, then!” Staeli yelled. “They don’t have battering rams.”
There were three external doors leading into the hall. One of the far doors shuddered as something heavy struck it. Then something began to pound against the second door. The third led deeper into the castle, where the inhabitants of the city were hunkering down.
Drew turned and drew his sword. “This is where we stand and fight. This is where the honor of Kingfountain rests. Do your duty. I can ask no more.”
Trynne’s heart churned with worry. Should she take Drew somewhere else? If the Chandigarli soldiers broke through, should she flee with the king and leave Dundrennan to its fate? Leaving . . . Fallon? Captain Staeli? Her maidens? She covered her mouth, not knowing what she should do.
Then she spied Morwenna again, still slumped on the floor, gazing sullenly at the doors. The poisoner had helped them defend the castle during the storm Rucrius had summoned. Her reward had been to watch her father die at his hand. Although Trynne’s feelings for the Argentine girl were complex, she did pity her.
Without thinking, Trynne left the king and Fallon and approached Morwenna. The dark-haired girl looked up at her, nearly cowering with shame and misery.
“You killed him,” Morwenna said in a thick, haunted voice. Her eyes were red from crying. “You killed your father.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The King’s Champion
Morwenna’s words cut Trynne to her heart. It was her greatest fear that she would be responsible, inadvertently or not, for her father’s death. The struggle to control and contain her emotions was challenging, but although the words had filled her with worry and misery, they did not ring of truth. There was no confirming whisper from the Fountain. Trynne dropped lower, putting her hand on Morwenna’s shoulder.
“I don’t say it out of envy or spite,” the poisoner said with tears. Her face was ravaged with grief. “Rucrius left orders that Lord Owen was to be dispatched. Gahalatine doesn’t know this. He’s never known.”
“Do you know where they were keeping him?” Trynne asked, letting herself hope. “Is there a chance to stop it?”
Morwenna covered her face. “I’m sorry, Trynne. It’s all my fault. When I was at the poisoner school, I found a copy of The Vulgate. I told you this already. What I couldn’t tell you is that Rucrius planted it there, seeking someone like me.” She raised her tearstained eyes.
“What do you mean?” Trynne said, raising her voice. The noise from the besieged doors, shuddering on their hinges, was growing louder. Rows of knights and maidens were positioning themselves before them, preparing to defend the king.
“I was so fixed on it,” Morwenna said, staring down at her knuckles. “On seeking revenge against your father. For his treason against mine. I think . . . somehow . . . my thoughts brought Rucrius to me. He was powerful. He taught me the ways of the Wizrs, even more than your mother did. But before he would teach me, he gave me a ring.” Her eyes grew haunted. “A ring that would bind me to him, to keep me from betraying him. After I put it on, he . . . he had control of my mind. He could make me say things. He could compel my actions.” She quivered and trembled. “He was arranging for me to marry Gahalatine. It would have given me everything that I wished for. But I fought against him the first chance I got. In the first surge of the battle, his will was so focused on his magic and maintaining the whirlwind that I broke free of his control and sought to counter him. He”—she swallowed miserably—“he murdered my father as punishment. When you killed Rucrius, I felt his control over me break. His thoughts faded like echoes. I’ve lost everything. Everything.” Morwenna bowed her head and began to sob.
Trynne closed her eyes, her heart aching for the deceit and the manipulation. The eastern door cracked with loud snapping noises as the wood gave way.
“Stand fast!” Captain Staeli shouted. “Encircle the king!”
Trynne reached out with her magic and sensed that Morwenna’s store was still empty. It was as if her cup had shattered and she was recognizing that Trynne’s had not.
“You are powerful,” Morwenna whispered, tears glistening in her eyes.
The door pieces came crashing down and the enemy warriors began wading through the debris to get inside.
Protect the king.
Gratitude welled inside her. The Fountain had whispered for her to defend the king, not spirit him away.
Trynne rose and reached her hand down to Morwenna. “Now is not the time to be enemies. Defend your brother.”
The Silent Shield (Kingfountain #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)