The Silent Shield (Kingfountain #5)

His mention of King Sunilik shifted Trynne’s thoughts to Rani Reya. She had sent her to find Elwis and bring him and his men to Dundrennan. Was she trapped in the blizzard with him? Would she perish if Trynne did not come to terms with Gahalatine?

So many lives depended on her decision. The weight of it nearly suffocated her.

“What?” he said, growing concerned. His fingers stroked through her hair. “What concerns you? I cannot bear to see you in pain. Is it that you wish for King Andrew to retain his title? In most cases, I have replaced the rulers of the lands I’ve conquered. But that does not need to happen here. What are you worrying about? Tell me!”

She looked him in the eye and stepped away from him.

“Gahalatine,” she said, shaking her head. “You have waged this war unjustly. We did not provoke you. Your Wizrs have been spying on us, I think, from the poisoner school in Pisan. That is how they met Morwenna and hatched Rucrius’s plot. Our lands had united under King Andrew, and they saw we were becoming powerful, that we might, one day, pose a sufficient threat to the East Kingdoms. To their games. You are being used and manipulated, Gahalatine. Your advisors have tricked you. They’ve encouraged even more lavish spending so that you’ll be beholden to them and their wishes.” She clenched her fists before her. “They murdered my little brother and my father’s parents in an attempt to destroy me. I saw Gannon plummet to his death and I had to commit his body to the Deep Fathoms. Rucrius admitted his hand was in it after I captured him.” She lowered her fists. His eyes were wide with surprise and horror, but she did not give him time to respond. She continued, her manner fierce and bold.

“If that is not enough to harden my heart, I’ve also come to learn that your treasuries are nearly void of coin. Your kingdom is built on sticks that will come crashing down in a strong wind. We will hold out against you. Dundrennan may fall. But I have the power to take my king elsewhere. And you will be forced to chase us from one corner of his realm to the other. You’ve bribed your way to victory thus far. But King Andrew will not yield the hollow crown. It was given to him by the Fountain. He is the rightful ruler. Not you.”

She swallowed, bolstering her courage. She looked him steadfastly in the eye, squeezing her fists until they hurt. “If you will kneel and swear fealty to him, to Andrew Argentine, as your rightful king and ruler, then I will marry you and help you repair the ruin you have nearly brought on yourself.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE


The Uncrowned King




Gahalatine endured her words with shocked silence. She had broken his perception of himself as a wise and benevolent ruler. She was also demanding him to surrender his ambition, to kneel before a man whom he felt was his inferior, to admit defeat. It was obvious her words had struck him to his core. He stared at her, measuring what she had told him, his eyes flashing from one emotion to another in rapid succession. His cheeks flushed. Would he fly into a rage? Would he challenge what she had said?

“I need some time to think,” he said, his voice shaking. “Your words have cut me deeper than any sword.”

Then he turned and strode out of the compartment, the curtain rustling as he vanished beyond it. Exhaustion settled over her. She went to the enormous pile of fur blankets and rugs and nestled amidst the softness to wait. They smelled of cinnamon and sandalwood, and as her muscles finally began to relax, she succumbed to sleep.

Trynne did not know how long she slept, but her dreams were peaceful. She was walking along the shore of the Glass Beach, hand in hand with Fallon. They spoke of childhood and their adventures together in Ploemeur. He reminded her of the magnolia trees and how he had caught her around the waist and twirled her around. His words brought back the memory and the dizziness, and her heart throbbed with love.

They sat down on the beach together, listening to the crashing of the surf. She loved that sound, loved everything about that place—the salty smell of sea air, the noise of gulls, the long wings of pelicans, and the little pips of sandpipers. She looked over at Fallon, but Gahalatine was sitting there in his stead, arms crossed around his knees, the wind tousling his hair. She was confused by the transformation.

Where had Fallon gone? She heard the sound of boots crunching in the sand and turned her head. Fallon was walking back toward the stone steps leading away from the beach. There was a woman standing in the distance, her black hair flowing in the wind. Trynne wanted to call out in warning, feeling a sudden panic in her heart.

Her eyes blinked open and she was instantly disoriented, not recognizing the furs and cushions on which she slept. Gahalatine was sitting on a cushion on the floor near her, head propped on one hand, writing with a quill and ink on paper. The sound of the quill head scratching the paper was soft as his hand moved swiftly across the page.

She blinked and lifted herself up on her arms. “When did you return?” she murmured, her voice quavering, her emotions still charged by the dream. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.

He glanced over at her. “You were resting so peacefully,” he said, “I dared not disturb you. So I started writing up orders to be executed after we spoke again. My heart is burning in my chest, Tryneowy. You spoke the truth. You spoke of your pain. I’m honored that you would still accept me, even after all that has happened.”

He cocked his head to one side, sighing deeply.

“Truth is like a double-edged sword. Is that not one of the teachings of the Fountain? It cuts through soul and spirit, joints and marrow. How did you know to strike me there, where I am most vulnerable?” He blinked rapidly, still not looking at her, his mind far away.

“As I thought about the things you told me, Tryneowy, I felt the truth of your words. I’m not certain I could have endured them had they been spoken by any other person.” He looked at her then, his eyes full of sorrow and anguish. There were tears quivering on his lashes.

“Surely . . . surely you are right. About everything. There is no atonement I can make for the loss of your brother. Were Rucrius here right now, I would slay him myself for such a crime. I can still defeat this castle, even with the blizzard summoned by the hollow crown. But I cannot take the crown itself by force.”

Trynne edged close enough to rest her hand on his shoulder. He jolted when he felt her touch and looked up at her shamefacedly. He covered his mouth with one hand, closed his eyes, and began stroking the stubble on his chin.