The Thief's Daughter (Kingfountain #2)

“And this is Owen Satchel,” Clark said offhandedly. “He’s one of Duke Horwath’s household knights.”

“So young to be a knight,” Bothwell observed to Owen, bowing again. It was all the invitation Owen needed to reach out with his magic, letting it wash over Lord Bothwell like gentle rain. The man was more fit than he looked and he carried a blade hidden in his vest, which wasn’t a surprise since he was a spy. Bothwell gave no indication at all that he knew his defenses were being tested.

“These two girls are ladies-in-waiting and will stay here. The rest of the lady’s servants and lawyers will be residing on board our ship for now, as your inns all seem to be full.”

“The crowds will soon depart Edonburick,” Bothwell said confidently. “Once the wedding revels are over. In a few days, the palace will be quiet again and the servants can stay here. The king rarely stays at the hall, he’s always off hunting or hawking or enjoying some other entertainment. If you two knights would fancy a tournament, he would be only too thrilled to call one.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Clark said stiffly.

Evie stepped forward. “Tell us about the fisherman’s son, Urbick. When did he arrive?”

Bothwell’s eyes lit up. “Ah, I was sure you’d want to hear the story!” His voice took on a conspiratorial air. “He arrived less than a fortnight ago, but he was invited here by Iago before he left Legault. I tell you truthfully, every ruler wants to befriend this young man because they all hope to use him against your king. The boy’s been in Occitania, Brugia, Legault, and now Atabyrion.”

Evie shook her head. “But has he been tested? Has he been interrogated by those who would be in a position to confirm or dispute his claim?”

Bothwell shook his head and wagged a finger. “It’s not that simple,” he said with another oily smile. “First, he looks like an Argentine, does he not? I knew Eredur, and I’ve known Severn for years. He looks the part. He dresses the part. And his supposed aunt, in Brugia, has certainly taught him to act the part. He’s been well trained, my lady. He can cite names, dates, and figures of importance, all from memory. More importantly, when you listen to his sad tale, as Iago did when he arrived, it makes you feel sympathy for him and animosity toward Severn. People want to help this young prince gain a crown.”

Evie snorted. “Even if it’s true, he was declared illegitimate by law. He cannot inherit the throne.”

Bothwell steepled his fingers over his lips. “Laws are often changed, my dear. There are rumors even here in Edonburick that Severn will change the law to make his niece legitimate. That he is grooming her to be his successor or his queen. That is why he won’t let her marry another man. Kings can do what they want.”

He bowed again. “Now, I must be going. My visits will always be, of necessity, rather short. The king has invited you, my lady, to join him for a hawking trip on the morrow. He was captivated by you! There is a bend in the river called Wizr Falls that he would like to show you, and he hopes you may speak further now that Eyric is gone.”

“Gone?” Evie demanded.

He waved his hand. “He’s with his young wife now. One of her father’s estates. Don’t worry. He cannot leave Atabyrion without permission. The king conducts most of his business out of doors. Iago simply cannot sit in a chair for longer than a few moments. I will say it again. You’ve impressed him. He’s not used to being treated as an equal, especially by a woman—a younger woman, no less. You are more than his match, my lady. Please try to convince him that invading Ceredigion would be a disaster.”

“So the pretend prince will not be joining us?” Evie asked.

Bothwell shook his head. “No. They will be away from court for a few weeks, I believe.”

“Do you know specifically where they are?” Clark asked pointedly.

Bothwell grinned. “Of course. And I can provide you a horse and directions if required. Believe me, there is nowhere in Atabyrion he can go that I won’t know about. I’m at your service.” He bowed yet again and excused himself.

After the door shut, Owen folded his arms. He had sensed none of the Fountain’s magic during the conversation. Bothwell’s style of spying reminded him of Mancini’s. He didn’t trust the man very much, but having such an ally would be helpful.

“I don’t think I like that man,” Evie said simply, wrinkling her nose.

“What did you make of him, Clark?” Owen asked.

The spy looked stern. “He’s served Severn’s interests for years. He’s the one who told us Piers Urbick was here. He’s been to Kingfountain several times, and from what Mancini tells me, he’s quite jealous to live there. Atabyrion is too backward for his tastes.”

Owen scratched the back of his head, chafing under the chain hood. “We have a bigger problem,” he said. He looked straight at Evie. “I think Urbick may be telling the truth. He may very well be Eyric Argentine.”

Stunned silence met his proclamation.

“How can you be so sure?” Evie asked after a moment, her voice quavering.

“I’m not,” Owen said. He frowned. “But I felt something as he spoke. The Fountain spoke to me, but the message was not clear. He was lying about something, but I don’t think he was lying about who he was.”

“Oh dear,” Evie said worriedly. “I’ve done it again, haven’t I?”

Justine looked nervous and apprehensive. “Done what?”

Etayne had remained thoughtfully silent throughout the encounter with Bothwell. Her role was still supposed to be concealed from Evie, even though Owen had already told her.

“I did it to Dunsdworth once before. Deliberately offended him. Now I’ve done the same thing with the prince.” She sighed. “But you don’t think . . . Owen, you don’t think Severn will step down for this rival, do you? This is going to lead to war, isn’t it?”

Owen sighed deeply. “I think our goal now should be to prevent one.”





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN


Wizr Falls




They had given Owen a brown stallion from the king’s stables for their hawking expedition into the woods surrounding Edonburick. The land was a wild and savage place, pristine save for the trail cut along the river. Majestic snow-headed eagles perched in the tall trees. There were not a lot of game animals, but the noise of the horses had probably frightened them off.