The Silent Shield (Kingfountain #5)

The Wizr Albion brought them back to the great hall with the Tay al-Ard. The smell of blood and death hung in the hall and the place was full of commotion. Gahalatine’s surgeons were hard at work tending to the wounded soldiers who had fought for Trynne and the king.

Her heart filled with grief at the destruction, especially the loss of Captain Staeli.

The crowd parted as she and Gahalatine started to walk, arm in arm, across the slabs of paving stone. She gazed through the crowd, and looking at those prostrate and receiving care, she finally spotted him on the floor by one of the support columns. She’d expected a body, cold and stiff, but he was breathing. They were slow, shallow gulps, but where there was breath there was hope. Haley knelt by him with tears in her eyes. Trynne, awestruck, released Gahalatine’s hand and rushed over to where he lay.

Staeli’s face was chalky gray, his mouth twisted into a rictus of agony. It was heart-wrenching to see her friend and protector in such pain, but he was conscious, and he blinked in recognition when he saw her.

“Hello, lass,” he said with a groan. “We’ll keep fighting. I’m feeling much better. Give me a moment . . . I’ll be back on my feet. We’ll drive these blackguards out of the North.”

She reached out and touched his arm and invoked a word of power for healing. Her magic shrank and she felt herself grow dizzy at the discharge of power.

“You’re alive, Captain,” she said with relief, feeling tears trickle from her lashes. “I’m going to end this war. We won.”

His brow furrowed. “Don’t be rash, lass. We can hold them off longer.”

“I know, Captain,” she said, watching as the trembling in his body began to subside. “We didn’t surrender. The Fountain knew this would happen. What I do, I do willingly.” She gave him a tender smile and kissed his sweaty brow. When she rose, she saw Gahalatine standing nearby, speaking in low tones with the surgeon who had worked on the captain. His Wizr stood beside him.

“My sister wounded him,” Gahalatine said somberly to Trynne. “He still lives?”

Trynne nodded, grateful that she had returned when she did. He had been going through the death throes, but her spell was taking hold and healing him on the inside. She offered a quiet prayer of gratitude to the Fountain that she had known the right word to use.

Then, taking Gahalatine’s arm again, Trynne proceeded across the rest of the hall to the place where Drew, Fallon, and a few others were waiting. Fallon’s leg was bandaged and he was leaning on a pike to hold himself upright. He looked anguished as he watched her approach, her arm linked with the enemy’s. Drew’s look bespoke his curiosity. Gahalatine’s sister stood near Fallon. Her armor was gone and she wore a long, nondescript gray tunic. She was studying her brother and Trynne with interest. Off to the side, Morwenna was glaring at them, her eyes full of anguish and disappointment. She seemed to understand exactly what had happened.

They came to a stop when they reached the king, and the Wizr Albion bowed and stepped to the other side of Gahalatine. He seemed to emanate waves of nervous confusion.

Drew had a stern look as he glanced from one to the other. “Has an accord been struck, then?” he asked, his voice throbbing with worry. “What are the terms?” She could see he was dreading the news of what he had lost.

Gahalatine turned to Trynne and gave her a satisfied smile. Despite what he’d agreed to do, he did not look humiliated or nervous at all. She removed her hand from his arm, and he instantly stepped forward. Fallon gripped a dagger, as if worried the man was about to attack the king, but the Lord of the Distant Isles knelt before Drew and bowed his head. “I, Gahalatine, do hereby swear fealty and homage to Andrew Argentine, King of Ceredigion and Occitania, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and ruler of Kingfountain. I submit my will to yours and promise to rebuild what I have destroyed and to heal the breach between our empires. I recognize you as my sovereign lord.” He remained there, kneeling before Drew, his head still bowed.

Trynne tried to conceal a smile as she saw the look of astonishment on the king’s face. As if completely bewildered, he gazed at her and then at Gahalatine and then back again.

“What have you done to this poor fellow, Trynne?” Drew said, shaking his head. He stepped forward, still amazed. “Are there no conditions?”

Gahalatine shook his head. “None, my lord. My submission to you is unconditional.”

“Rise, man,” Drew said, gesturing quickly. He looked at Trynne again, seeking an explanation.

Gahalatine rose to his feet. He was a bigger man than Drew, and only a few years older. “You are surprised, my lord king, but you should not be. Anyone who knows the worth of this maiden would not underestimate her abilities. This was her suggestion. Her ultimatum, actually.” He smiled wryly. “I have been led falsely by the intrigue of my court advisors.” He glowered at Albion, who blanched and seemed horrified by what he had just witnessed. “You truly deserve to wear the hollow crown. I hope, one day, to deserve your pardon and forgiveness.”

The king chuffed as if he was about to start laughing. He smiled at Trynne with such a look of regard and respect that she felt her cheeks grow warm.

“You did it,” Drew said sincerely. “You did the impossible.”

She bowed her head. “Please stop the snow, my lord,” she told him. “Before Elwis’s forces freeze to death.”

“I think I can feel the sun shining already,” Drew said triumphantly. “Send a group to rescue the men trapped in the snow. Bring them to Dundrennan at once and tend to them. By the Fountain, this is a day that will never be forgotten!”





The war in the foreign land was not going well when our ship arrived. Some battles had been fought, and our king’s forces had been beaten even though he outnumbered his enemy. We were ordered to help with the retreat to the ships when we were set upon by a fresh army from the enemy. I could see that we would be overrun and slaughtered if we did not act quickly. I told the captain how to turn the situation to our advantage. The captain, who had no ideas of his own and was near panicking, heeded my words, and we drove away the group attacking us. We were not as outnumbered as we’d supposed.

The captain was grateful for my quick thinking and recommended me to the captain of the king’s guard, a man by the name of Carstone, when he arrived to inspect the new arrivals. He asked me about my training and background. I told him I couldn’t remember who I was but that I knew the arts of war. Carstone said the king valued men like me and that I’d rise in rank quickly if I proved myself. The king had failed in his conquest and could expect swift retaliation from our enemy. I told him I didn’t even know the name of our king. He was surprised no one had told me. He said the king doesn’t go by his given name. He goes by the name of the duchy he once ruled. He’s an ambitious man, an enemy to the King of Comoros he once served. His name is Dieyre and he’s an expert swordsman himself. We’ll be returning to Dahomey soon to defend it.





CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX


Reunited