The Thief's Daughter (Kingfountain #2)

The king came off the dais and put his arm around Owen’s shoulder, leading him to the furnace-like hearth. Owen was quickly drenched in sweat, but the king seemed immune to the heat. Severn stared into the flames, his mind tormented.

“With her mother’s failing health,” the king started, “she came less frequently to the palace. It did not alarm me. It was only natural she would seek to comfort her mother in those final hours. She came to me once. It was late at night and she looked so tired, so sad. There was little I could do to offer comfort, for I hated her mother and she hated me. But I said no harsh words and offered only sympathy for her grieving. Elyse”—her name seemed to burn his tongue, and he flinched—“asked if I would ever force her to marry. I’d long ago promised I would never do that, so I repeated my pledge. She was quiet, and then she asked if I would ever let her marry at all. She said that she understood any child born from her womb would be perceived by some as an heir to the throne.” He stared deeply into the flames, butting a clenched fist against his mouth.

“What did you tell her?” Owen asked, wiping a trail of sweat from his cheek.

The king’s eyes were haunted. “I told her the truth. That I couldn’t let her marry. Not yet. And then I told her that she was my heir. That she would inherit the throne if anything happened to me.” His lips curled into a grimace. “The next morning, she was gone.”

He whirled away from the heat, his face livid with passion. “She abandoned me for that whelp Chatriyon, who promised to make her his queen. That sniveling upstart who wears hose and garters and has never killed a man with his own hands, his own knife! He thinks to lay claim to Ceredigion through her. He thinks that I will just lie down and let their boots dash me to pieces.” The look in his eyes, the tone of his voice was terrifying. “I will not be easy meat for their feast. This boar has tusks, and I will gore them all.”

“My lord,” Mancini said guardedly. “We haven’t heard Lord Owen’s news. What of the pretender, Piers Urbick? Is the king’s enemy dead?”

Owen looked from the spymaster to the king. “I’m convinced he is being truthful. My lord, hear me out. I know Mancini’s spies have found people claiming to be his parents. I think that is a purposeful deception. I’ve met with him, my lord. More than once. He is not Fountain-blessed. Neither is anyone around him, at least not from what I could perceive. When we arrived, we were in time to join the wedding celebrations.”

“Wedding?” Mancini gasped.

“Yes. Iago Llewellyn matched him with the Earl of Huntley’s daughter, Lady Kathryn. They’ve been married less than a fortnight now. All the nobles of Atabyrion believe Eyric is who he claims to be, an Argentine. Your nephew. I believe he is as well.”

Severn stared at Owen in surprise. “How did he survive? Why has he not tried to come back before now? You must recognize his very claim is highly questionable!”

“If you were to meet him yourself,” Owen said, reaching out and gripping the king’s shoulder, “I think you would come to the same conclusion. He’s terrified of you, my lord. He believes what they say about you. I tried to persuade him to return with me. In fact, I was planning to kidnap him, but Kathryn’s steward must have overheard our conversation, for he sent men to capture me. I fled with Etayne, and we returned promptly. I don’t think Iago will be pleased when he learns about my duplicity.”

“I don’t give a care about how he feels,” Severn snapped. “You were wise to flee instead of being captured. I would have paid any ransom to secure you, Owen. Now I can save my gold and conquer Atabyrion and Occitania with it instead.”

Owen shook his head. “You don’t need to attack Edonburick. Iago is going to come here. He’s desperate to prove himself a man, and he’s reckless. I think he was tempted by your offer. He is . . . fond of Elysabeth. But I think he hopes he can still have her once Eyric is wearing the crown. They are coming to invade.”

Severn frowned. “Let them come. Let them all come. I can defend my kingdom. And if these little ewes want to wet their swords in blood, I will give them all the blood they can stomach. They can watch their men perish and their manors burn. They can hear their mothers weep.”

“There is more,” Owen said fervently. He could feel the rage seething inside the king. Best to deliver all the bad news at once.

Severn cocked his eyebrow in disbelief.

“They have no wish to face you in battle,” Owen said. “It turns out that our Espion at Iago’s court, Lord Bothwell, was a poisoner trained in Pisan under the assumed name Foulcart. His mission was to kill us all and foment a war between Ceredigion and Atabyrion. From him, we learned about another plot to murder you. A poisoner hired by Chatriyon is here in the palace. According to Bothwell, the King of Occitania doesn’t want Eyric to rule. I think he’s right. He’s just using Eyric and King Iago as a distraction to keep you looking north. Lord Roux of Brythonica confirmed as much. He came to Edonburick to warn Iago not to oppose you.”

“Roux was there?” Mancini said with shock. “I don’t believe it!”

“He came in person,” Owen said to the king, nodding back to the spymaster. “I recognized him, and he recognized me. I think he’s Fountain-blessed, my lord. And he said the duchess is still our ally.”

Severn gazed at Owen in awe, his blazing anger finally beginning to cool. He reached his hand around Owen’s neck in a fatherly gesture. Then clapped him on the back. “You have done well, my boy. You have done your king good service and honor. And for this, I will reward you. If you revealed yourself to Eyric, you took a huge risk. But I can see why you did it. You tried to persuade him, did you not? You tried to convince him to return willingly.”

Owen nodded. “I did. I promised him a duchy. The same duchy he once held as a child.”

Severn smiled. “And I would have honored your pledge. Instead of gaining a duchy, he will lose everything. I wish his father-in-law well, for he will be supporting these children with his own treasures. Oh, the irony of it galls me! He could have become my legitimate heir if he had proven himself an ally and friend. But he gropes for a prize he is not tall enough to reach. He’s a child.” The king shook his head. “And a disobedient one at that. I feel cheerful for the first time in days. I am hunted and oppressed. The wolves are yapping at my heels. But I have true subjects. I have warships and an army. And my enemies will learn that when they rouse the wrath of a beast they fear, they will feel the bloody tusks. To war then. I welcome it.”