The Thief's Daughter (Kingfountain #2)

One can scarcely credit what one hears these days. But if rumors be true, then King Iago Llewellyn has indeed invaded Ceredigion. His troops landed in Aberthwist and began burning villages in a direct course toward Kingfountain. Refugees have been spilling from East Stowe. Some are heading south to Kingfountain, but most are rallying north to where the king’s army has encamped. If that were not enough, there are reports from Westmarch that the King of Occitania has attacked our holdings there and that Duke Owen has turned traitor and has been in league with Occitania all along. As I said, I can scarcely give credit to such reports.



—Polidoro Urbino, Court Historian of Kingfountain





CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX


Duplicity




Owen rubbed his bleary eyes, listening to Farnes as he hastily explained the news from Averanche. The reports were bad and getting worse and Owen’s army was restless with inaction. They wanted to fight, to attack, to do anything but camp in the frostbitten wastes of St. Penryn.

Farnes’s hair was unkempt and he stroked his fingers through vigorously. “Averanche can withhold a siege for a few days, a fortnight maybe, but if there is no hope of being relieved, they will turn back and seek terms with Chatriyon!”

“We will lift the siege,” Owen said forcefully, staring at his herald with determination. “But they must hold as long as they can. How much food do they have?”

Farnes shook his head. “The provisions will hold for a fortnight easily. Captain Ashby isn’t worried about that and he is rationing the stores. He’s more worried about the locals betraying us. The lord mayor, for example.”

Owen stroked his lip. “I trust Ashby. He’ll follow orders. Have supplies run by sea to support the castle.”

“Yes, but it’s only a matter of time before the Occitanian ships blockade the city,” Farnes insisted. “When shall I tell him you are coming to relieve them?”

“I can’t say when, Farnes. The situation here is risky. I know Chatriyon is trying to lure me to Averanche, and I’m not going to snap at the bait like a codfish! He’s distracting me from this place. This is where Eyric is going to land. I know it. I’m determined to wait like the patient hunter.”

“But when, my lord?” Farnes pleaded. “If those under siege lose hope of rescue, they will falter. The Occitanians have brought in a mighty host. They will retake the city, and once they’ve done so, they’ll challenge Westmarch. Would it not be more prudent to pull out our men by ship and bring them here? We could face Chatriyon from our own lands.”

Etayne’s voice interrupted. “Lord Owen will not abandon those who put their faith in him,” she said scathingly. “Chatriyon would show no mercy to the lord mayor and those who surrender the city.”

Owen was surprised at her remarks and he glanced at her, seeing through the disguise she wore. But even her tone and accent were convincing.

Farnes flushed. “I meant no disrespect, my lady,” he said, flustered. “It’s just that we risk running out of time. Your troops here are restless. The action is to the west, not here. The longer you wait, the more you risk.”

“I’ll not abandon Averanche,” Owen said. “You send word to Ashby. Tell him to hold the city to the last man. I won’t fail him.”

Farnes pursed his lips. “Very well, my lord.” He nodded, bowed, and exited the tent.

Owen was pacing, feeling the tension roiling in the pavilion. The fate of Ceredigion was hanging in the balance. From the reports he’d received from the king’s army, Severn was letting Iago venture deep inland, letting him think there was little opposition, in the anticipation that he would extend himself too far. And then Horwath would cut off his retreat and Severn’s army would come thundering out to trap Iago between them. Owen had no doubt that Severn would win.

He walked to his table and stared at the map there, running his finger along the coastline between Westmarch and Occitania. There was a V-shaped wedge of water at the crux between the two kingdoms. That water had once been the kingdom of Leoneyis. Owen looked at the outline of Brythonica and shook his head. Where was Marshal Roux? What was he doing? It felt like he was waiting in the shadows, waiting for Owen to move first. The thought made him grit his teeth with frustration.

“You look worried,” Etayne said softly, coming up next to him. Even her perfume reminded him of her.

“I can’t stay here much longer,” Owen sighed, stabbing the map with his finger. “If Eyric doesn’t arrive soon, I’ll have to go to Averanche and lift the siege. You were right . . . I’m not going to abandon it. But I can’t help but think that I’m being forced to step forward. Something isn’t right. And it has to do with Brythonica and the duchess’s true allegiance.”

Etayne smiled at him. “You also don’t want to be wrong. I don’t know any man who readily admits he’s made the wrong choice.”

Owen smirked. “That too. But I know I’m right. There is something important about St. Penryn. Something I don’t know, but I can smell it in the air.” He gave her disguise another appraising look. “You’re not even using your magic and you look like her.”

Etayne dimpled at the compliment and nodded gracefully.

Owen fetched a flask and took a drink of stale wine. Wincing at the taste, he set it back down in a hurry. “Tell me more about this poisoner. The one who fled Kingfountain during the riot.”

“Tyrell,” Etayne said. “He crossed from Brugia in a ship, disguised as a sanctuary sexton, and visited Our Lady. One of the sailors remarked on the gap between his teeth, so I knew it was him. He stayed in an inn on the bridge between Our Lady and the palace. By the time I found his dwelling, he had already infiltrated the castle. He was the one who started the riot and spread the rumor about the king throwing Tunmore off the tower. I know he’s Fountain-blessed. I felt him use his power.”

Owen nodded, frowning. “And what would you say his power is?”

She wrinkled her nose. “His power is causing hatred. There is a potion he uses. I have a report that he carries a box of some lotion, which he spreads on doorways. Those who pass the doorway begin to feel a keen hatred for the man in his sights. He assassinates by poisoning the minds of others, causing them to murder his target. It’s clear his target was Severn, as we suspected. It wasn’t just the storm that was making the people riot. He spread some of his ointment on the gates of the sanctuary as well.”

Owen stared at her. “Poor Jack was being affected by it. I thought he wanted to kill the king, though it made no sense.”

Etayne looked at him shrewdly. “Thankfully Fountain magic doesn’t work on you, Owen, or you might have been tempted to kill the king.”

Owen chuckled softly. “So you almost had him in Kingfountain when the riot started. He may have removed the chest from the sanctuary and taken it here to St. Penryn.”