“That was wise,” Genevieve said, nodding. “That grove must remain a secret. Even my husband did not tell me he had been there as a child until you shared the story.” She looked pointedly at Sinia.
Trynne’s mother sighed. “It has been protected by the Montforts for centuries. Owen was the champion of the grove. Marshal Roux was his predecessor. When the magic of the bowl is invoked inside the grove, the champion is summoned to defend it. This has been a great secret. There is only one copy of The Vulgate that contains the story of this grove. It is an ancient tale that I read as a child. It is there Myrddin was entrapped by his student, one of my ancestors.”
Queen Genevieve arched her eyebrows. “Is Owen trapped there now?”
Sinia shook her head. “Myrddin was trapped when a boulder fell and blocked the entrance to a cave in the rocks. Your husband used the hollow crown to help break that rock after a thousand years. The cave is still there. Empty.”
“I searched it myself,” Trynne said. “There was evidence of a little camp there. The ashes from a recent fire. Men had hidden in the cave for protection from the hailstorm. My lord, there was a thunderclap . . . I’ve heard . . . during the battle. Was there not?”
King Drew nodded vigorously. “Indeed there was. It brought back the memories of my childhood. I suspected that it was your father’s secret plan to attack his enemies with a storm, but the sleet and hail I expected never came.”
“He shared no such plan with me,” Sinia said. “Only someone who could use the ley lines could have done it.”
“Morwenna?” the queen asked with a tone of suspicion.
The king shook his head. “According to Lord Amrein, she was with Owen the entire time and helped fight the attackers after he disappeared.”
“Then it must have been one of the other Wizrs,” Sinia said at last. “One who knew the story of the grove.”
The pale-haired Rucrius came to Trynne’s mind, and anger formed a white-hot ball in her chest.
“We must get to the council,” King Drew said. “We must make plans to defend ourselves. Without the assistance of Lord Owen or Myrddin. What happened is a great mystery. Everyone seeks Owen in Brugia, but Trynne’s knowledge leads us elsewhere.” He tapped his bottom lip. “There’s a Fountain-blessed hunter in Dundrennan. He was a lad when I first met him, but he’s a man grown now. Carrick. He knew Lord Owen well and is loyal and discreet. He’s the one who found my sword in the ice caves. Lady Sinia, I suggest we use him to examine the grove for additional clues. It is a singular place.”
“Indeed, my lord,” Sinia said with a grateful nod.
Trynne wrestled with her feelings of despair, grief, and hope. She was still perplexed as to why only her father’s hand had been left behind. If he had been killed, surely they would have left the corpse behind. It was a sign that he had been taken, not murdered. She could imagine the pain he was suffering. At least he had the raven-marked scabbard on his person.
“Then we shall go to the council,” the king said confidently. “Trynne—your assistance has been invaluable. You should be in attendance as well. I know Genny favors your advice.” The king gave his wife an apologetic look. “And it seems, my dear, that you were right all along. With so many losses, so many dead, we will need every able man and woman to defend this realm when Gahalatine’s army rouses itself. We will need Oath Maidens. Would that I could snap my finger and summon them into existence.” He gave Trynne a sorrowful look. “I wish I had heeded your counsel when you first suggested it.”
Trynne felt a flush spread across her cheeks. She bowed her head. “Thank you, my lord.”
“Having a man, a king at that, admit that he was wrong is compliment enough,” the queen said wryly. “I would like to confer a moment with Trynne. We will join you for supper later. I have some ideas on this subject already.”
“Very well,” the king said. He proffered the crook of his arm to Trynne’s mother in a gallant gesture. Sinia gave Trynne a forced smile that did not reach her sad eyes, then took the king’s arm and followed him out of the solar.
Genevieve watched the door swing shut. Her expression changed into one of condolence, and she pulled Trynne into a fierce hug. “My poor dear,” she said soothingly, sniffling. “You were at the battle yourself, yet could not speak of it. No one knows but we two and Captain Staeli.” She pulled away and took Trynne’s hands. “If you had been in Ploemeur, do you think you would have felt the magic of the grove? I could not ask this in front of your mother. She was with me at Kingfountain and did not feel the magic summoning your father. Nor did she have a vision about it. Isn’t that strange?”