It was a powerful speech, and Trynne felt her soul moved at his words. It was a rebuke, but a loving one. He was vulnerable, for he stood to lose the most, but everyone sitting at that table would be supplanted by one of Gahalatine’s governors if the Chandigarli won the day.
The king clenched his fists and planted his knuckles on the table. “I was given counsel by Lady Trynne and my queen that I was too hesitant to implement. It has long been the culture of our realms to forbid women the right to bear arms and to train to use them. In the distant past, according to Myrddin, there were times when men and women fought alongside each other when the need was dire. These warriors were called Oath Maidens. My queen has taken on the responsibility to arm and train any maiden who wishes to fight in defense of Kingfountain. She has the authority to call her own captains. With so many of our young men bruised and slain, we must use every resource to defend ourselves. And when the year is nearly expired, I will summon all the warriors of the realm to the Gauntlet of Kingfountain. There is no time left for local competitions. All will gain the chance to earn this seat—the Siege Perilous. From the victors, I will choose a new champion. Be they man or maid. I will brook no argument against this aim. This is my command. See that it is done.”
After he had issued the command, the Ring Table began to thrum and vibrate. The sound of the Fountain began to murmur around the gathering, and the grooves of the table, the inner rings of the massive tree trunk, began to glow softly. A feeling of power radiated from the ancient wood.
King Drew appeared to be startled by the sudden manifestation. The looks on the faces of everyone in the room were full of astonishment. Fallon’s mother and the queen beamed with triumph. Many looked more uncomfortable with the king’s pronouncement. Some of the men were staring aghast at the suggestion. Severn looked disdainful, but Elwis was merely subdued. He stared from the table to Trynne with deep concentration, and it made her uncomfortable to be stared at so. Fallon, on the other hand, looked grave as he shook his head and muttered something under his breath to his mother, who swatted his arm in annoyance.
And then Trynne caught sight of Morwenna standing near the doors leading to the secret passageways. She was surprised the king’s poisoner didn’t look pleased. In fact, her look was unguarded for once, and she seemed furious.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Unrequited
The magnolia petals had all fallen, save only a few that still stubbornly hung on to the branches. As Trynne knelt in the grass, staring up at them, she clung to the silent hope that her father still lived. Visions of his severed hand haunted the shadows in her mind both day and night. It was time to return to Ploemeur with her mother—and then Averanche. Genevieve had promised the first girls would arrive soon for their training.
It was not possible to describe the feelings in her heart. What would have happened if she had not followed the Fountain’s direction before the battle? Would it have made a difference for her father if she had appeared in the grove with her magic and two swords? She had to trust that the Fountain had used her for the best possible good, even if that good was devastating to her personally. She had kept the oath she had sworn before Myrddin; she had obeyed the Fountain’s will. So why did it hurt so much?
A breeze teased through her hair and the branches of the magnolia trees, carrying the sweet scent of the blooms. She shut her eyes, trying to will away the pain and the longing to see her father. Part of her had been ripped away. It was a wound of the heart, and it would never fully heal. If only she knew what had become of him, whether she would ever see him again. Eyes pressed closed, she listened for the faint stirrings of the Fountain. She hoped for something, a message—a sign.
Nothing came except the sound of someone approaching in the grass.
Disappointment battered her. She had hoped to find solace in her favorite spot at the palace, but even that balm was being denied to her. Opening her eyes, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Fallon Llewellyn striding toward her.
He looked angry.
Not now, she thought in despair. Not another burden.
She brushed the strands of grass she’d plucked from her lap and then rose quickly. If she was on her knees when he arrived, he would tower over her.
There was no preamble of teasing from him this time. It came out as an accusation.
“You knew, didn’t you? About your father. That was the secret you wouldn’t tell me.”
“I was forbidden to tell anyone,” she answered in misery. She did not want to have that conversation with him. It was too painful, and the fierce and wounded look in his eyes only added to her agony.