“So you arrived three days ago?” she said, at a loss for words.
“By ship?”
“Indeed,” he answered coldly.
She glanced around the room. Lord Amrein stood at the table with the king. Genevieve was there, but not the young princess. The queen looked stern and serious. She was studying Gahalatine with a slight frown of disapproval.
“I thought you would come to Ploemeur,” she said, still feeling the awkwardness of the moment. She wished to be alone with him, not in a crowded room full of witnesses.
He looked at her incredulously. “How could I risk that?” he said with a curt laugh. “After what you did to my fleet?” His anger was still evident but under control. “None of my crews dare enter your waters, my lady.”
The scene was becoming more befouled by the moment. “Why did you come, then?” she challenged.
“King Sunilik convinced me,” Gahalatine answered. “And by my troth, we must work out some arrangement. Some truce, if you will.
The Mandaryn insist I cannot trust you, but Sunilik has advised me to hear your side. To listen patiently to your explanations.” He swallowed, looking down for a moment before meeting her eyes again. “I knew this would be painful. For us both. But I am determined to endure it. I believe that I wed myself to you in a cunning ploy. I do not see how the evidence can be interpreted differently, but I will listen to you. The Mandaryn have agreed to these conditions. Apparently I did not require enough stipulations or conditions last time.” His barbed words stung her.
“I will gladly justify myself. I look forward to the opportunity,”
Trynne said. She wanted to throttle the Wizrs who had corrupted his mind and his feelings.
“Very well. My conditions are as follows. We will have our conversation in your domain. In Ploemeur, in fact. I have wanted to see Brythonica’s people and customs with my own eyes. Lord Amrein has agreed to escort me. We will be accompanied by my faithful warriors, and the king has pledged to send knights for my protection. Sunilik will remain in Kingfountain on board the treasure ship. If I do not return safely in seven days with the Fault Staff in my possession, he has orders to set sail and return to Chandigarl. There will be perpetual enmity between our empires ever after. So I ask you again. Do you accept my terms?”
There was a pit of coldness in her stomach. “I must bring you the Fault Staff?”
He nodded firmly. “I require that it no longer be in your sole possession. You are too dangerous to be entrusted with such magic.”
Trynne’s anger was quickly turning to fury. “If my king commands it, then I will give it to you.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The Chapel Fountain
The mood in the solar was dangerously hostile. Trynne clenched her fists and looked at King Drew for guidance. She felt humiliated and dishonored, but she could discern that there was magic at work, that her husband’s feelings and attitudes had been consciously manipulated by his Wizrs.
Drew pursed his lips, looking warily at Gahalatine. “So you are saying, Lord Gahalatine, that none of our efforts to aid Chandigarl during these many months have convinced you of our honest intentions?”
Gahalatine frowned. “Your tactics amount to a bribe,” he answered stiffly. “Which is a fitting punishment considering our own use of that ploy. The Fountain has punished me most harshly for not seeing through the illusion.”
“What illusion?” Drew answered. “You came here as the aggressor originally. We did what we could to defend ourselves.”
“And you did so most admirably,” Gahalatine shot back. “As I said, I believe I was caught in a snare.” He gave Trynne a reproachful look. “You entered my kingdom. You learned what you could to your advantage. But the power of the Fault Staff is too much of a temptation.”
“And you would trust your Wizrs with it?” Trynne demanded.
Gahalatine shook his head. “No, I would trust no one with it. If it were in my hands this very moment, I would break it over my knee and see its power destroyed. That is my intention.”
Drew rose from his seat and started pacing. “I would agree to that,” he said. “Better if neither of us had it. There is an imbalance of magics between our peoples.”
“That is not my doing,” Gahalatine said dismissively. “We have ever been the more powerful empire. My humiliation pains me, but as I said, we must form a truce of some kind. Tryneowy is my wife, even though I have seen Rucrius with my own eyes and she claimed to have—” He stopped short, sighing. “No, we will not have this conversation here. I do not believe my terms are onerous. I will go to Brythonica, but not by sea. Not by the ley lines. Let me see it with my own eyes, without trickery. Let me walk the shores where my doomed fleet perished. Let me say a prayer to the Fountain for their souls. Sunilik promised to send his daughter, Sureya, to accompany my wife back to Ploemeur to ensure no double dealing. I trust him and his daughter.”