Queen Genevieve hooked her arm through Trynne’s. “There, you see, Trynne? You must have the blood of these Oath Maidens in your veins!” Then her voice took on a more coaxing tone. “My lord husband, I would like to found an order for such maidens. They would be under my care, and I would ensure it’s done properly. I think Trynne’s suggestion is just what we need. There are many maidens who are anxious about the future. How could it hurt to train some of our young women? Wouldn’t it be better to prepare in advance than to delay and wish otherwise later? I would take this upon myself, my lord. I have always wanted to practice with swords. I think my mother instilled that in me. What say you, my lords?”
The king was looking to Owen for his input. Trynne could see Drew was uncomfortable with the idea, especially given his wife’s intention to lead the group, but he clearly didn’t want to crush her idea.
Trynne glanced at her father, feeling a little guilty for her role in the discussion. But her father did not look angry or even opposed to the idea. He clasped his hands behind his back. “Let’s not be too hasty,” he said. He turned to Myrddin. “Are there other examples of this from military campaigns in this world? The Maid is the only one from recent memory that I’ve read, but I’m not as learned as you—nor have I lived for so long.”
Myrddin clasped both hands atop the mushroom-shaped end of his staff. “Aye, Lord Owen. There was once a great general who was badly outnumbered by the enemies who invaded his homeland. The war lasted for several years. At one point, he threatened to arm his women and his children and bring the fight to the enemy’s homeland.” The Wizr smirked. “Aye, ’tis true. It goes against our sensibilities to force the horrors of war on our womenfolk. But there are times that it has been done. And as you said, there have been times when the greatest champion in the realm has been a woman.”
When Myrddin met Trynne’s eyes, she realized that he already knew her fate, just as she had speculated on that long-ago day. She knew she was right to be asking for this.
“I will not be too hasty in this,” King Drew said seriously. “We will discuss it further in council around the Ring Table.”
CHAPTER TEN
The Wizr’s Oath
Every time Trynne went to Kingfountain, it was harder and harder to leave. Sometimes she felt more at home in that palace than she did at Ploemeur. She had rarely been to Tatton Hall and had little sentimental attachment to it. Kingfountain was the center of intrigue and decisions, the hub of power and authority. It was the seat of the kings of the past, the place of legends brought to life. Kingfountain was the place where destiny was woven. She loved everything about it, from the intangible feel of the place to its beautiful trappings. At the moment, though, the king’s council was meeting behind closed doors, and she wanted desperately to know what they would decide. All she could do was pace with nervous energy, waiting and dreading the moment she’d have to return to Ploemeur.
The sun was slanting through the windows, showing the fast-ebbing daylight that made her heart wring with emotion. As she wandered the corridors alone, she passed the archway where she’d spied Morwenna and Elwis, and the memories of what had followed rushed upon her, ending with Fallon swinging her around in a dizzying circle.
That particular memory made her heart ache. She had known Fallon her entire life, and even though she loved to argue and debate with him, she secretly wished that he could someday overlook the fact that she would never be a beauty. Perhaps he needed someone like her to prick the bubble of his pride and prevent it from carrying him off.
Tapping footsteps came from around the corner ahead, and she was startled when her father’s herald, Benjamin, came into view.
“Ah, Lady Trynne,” he said with a smile. His father, Farnes, had served her father faithfully for years and Benjamin had inherited the role of messenger. He was in his late twenties and had a handsome and confident bearing. “Your father sent me to find you, but the queen asked to speak with you first. She’s in her personal chambers. Shall I escort you?”
“Of course,” Trynne answered, hastening her steps. “Has the council ended then?”
“It has,” he replied with a nod.
“What did they decide?”
“I have no idea,” he said with an apologetic smile. “I was not allowed in the deliberations.”
Eager to find out, Trynne kept up a furious pace as they wove through the corridors toward the queen’s chambers. The doorman saw them approach and knocked on the door.