“I will, Mother,” Trynne promised, blinking back tears.
The cave loomed above her as if it would crush her beneath its bulk. She did not want the responsibility. She did not want to be shackled for the rest of her life to Ploemeur. But neither had she made the promise lightly. She knew what was at stake.
But there was a dark part of her, a small whispering doubt as tiny as an insect, that warned her that she might not be able to fulfill her vow.
CHAPTER TEN
Upon the Feast of St. Benedick
Brythonica had long maintained a sizable navy and had standing ties with the Genevese to ship the duchy’s berries to distant realms. As Trynne stood on the stone quay in Ploemeur, she watched the sailors crawling up and down the rigging of her mother’s ship. It was a beautiful, solid galleon that could brave the open ocean.
Gannon was dabbing his tears on his sleeve, but there was a look of trembling courage on his face that hearkened to the man he would become. Trynne’s heart was heavy as she watched Sinia speaking gently with Owen’s mother and father. Morwenna had come to Ploemeur earlier to say farewell, but only family members had come to the dock. They had been gathered there for some time, and it was obvious the Genevese captain of the vessel, Captain Pyne, with his stubbled head and cheeks, was ready to leave. He kept rocking back and forth on his heels and glancing at the ship.
As soon as she finished speaking with Trynne’s grandparents, Sinia lowered herself down to Gannon’s level. She was smiling, trying to project confidence and motherly assurance, but Trynne saw the pain in her eyes. “Now you, little duke, must obey your grandparents and your sister while I’m away.”
Gannon threw his arms around her neck and kissed her cheek. “But if I’m a duke, then must not they obey me?” He said it in his teasing way.
Sinia smoothed the hair from his forehead before kissing him there. “You can only have the authority of your station when you’re older, after you’ve proven yourself. But remember, my son, that leading means serving. You serve the people of Westmarch. You serve Brythonica.” She tugged and straightened his tunic front. “I will take so many pleasant memories with me on my journey. You are a wonderful son, and I love you with all my heart.”
“I feel sorry for Trynne, then,” replied Gannon with a grin. “There’s none left for her!”
Trynne arched her brow at him, but his smiles were infectious.
“There is room in my heart for both of you,” Sinia said, tapping his nose. She hugged him fiercely then, squeezing her eyes shut with such a look of pain that Trynne’s throat caught.
Brushing away a tear, Sinia rose and came to Trynne. They hugged each other, saying nothing. Trynne felt the warmth of her mother’s breath against her hair. For so long she had worried she’d disappointed her mother by not becoming a Wizr, and the secrets the Fountain had bid her to keep had created a gulf between them.
The biggest of those secrets was the one that Fallon now knew—that Trynne was the Painted Knight. Rumors abounded about the knight, about Trynne, as the Gauntlet of Kingfountain loomed nearer. The legends were vastly different than the truth, each story growing grander as it was passed along. Someone had seen the Painted Knight in Atabyrion defeating twelve men at once. Some said the Painted Knight was a ghost from the drowned kingdom of Leoneyis. Others said his face was painted because a poisoner from Pisan was trying to kill him. Each tale was a fabrication, but that did not stop them from spreading like wildfire. Everyone expected the Painted Knight to come and compete against the best knights of the realm.
She wanted to tell her mother before she left, but the Fountain had told her it was not yet time.
“Trynne,” Sinia said, pulling away from the hug. She stanched tears on her sleeve cuff. “The king will still need you. I know that he will. There are dark days ahead for him. This war with Gahalatine will test his mettle, his confidence, and his will to rule. I know that you will need to go to Kingfountain. I just ask that you make sure Brythonica is watched over. Owen’s father is a wise man and has served me for many, many years. He must play the role of father to his grandchild.” She sighed, looking down. “It is so difficult for me to leave you and Gannon. It will take courage to find the Deep Fathoms. Or the land of Fusang, as the Oasis princess described it to you. It goes by many names. It calls to me still.” She looked out toward the sea, her expression suddenly distant, as if she heard a voice at that very moment.
“I’m glad you chose Captain Pyne,” Trynne said. “He’s one of the best sea captains in Genevar.”