He gave her an imploring look. There was no doubt that he needed the additional support, but he was still reluctant to use it. Part of him still saw these warriors as innocents in need of protection.
Trynne felt a splash of insight in her mind. She turned to face him fully, her back to the door.
“My lord, let me try and put your mind at ease. Many women fear that they will die in childbirth. Yet despite that fear, we still willingly choose to bring life into this world.” Trynne turned her shoulder and gently patted the door. “Each one of these women who came to Averanche made the choice to be here. None were compelled. None were forced. If they die giving birth to your kingdom, is that not just as worthy a cause? They have chosen to be here, my lord. They have chosen to sustain you as their king. Their rightful king. I have been to Chandigarl and seen the opulence and riches there. But there is also a foulness to that kingdom that I don’t comprehend. I choose to fight for you, my true king and sovereign lord. And so do they.”
She could tell her words had struck him to his heart. Drew was silent for a moment, then he nodded to her and put the crown on his head. She felt the power of it radiating like sun melting the slush of snow.
“Thank you, Trynne Kiskaddon. A simple village maid once offered her help to the Prince of Occitania. And look what she accomplished.” He gave her a grateful smile and a nod. “Open the door.”
Trynne beamed at him as she tugged open the door. With one hand on the hilt of Firebos, Drew marched ahead of her and was greeted by a thrum of cheers from the Oath Maidens assembled in the yard below. An even louder cheer sounded when she appeared behind him.
King Drew marched down the steps of the battlement wall and entered the throng of warriors who gathered around him eagerly. Haley from Dundrennan stood near the front, taller than many of the others. She’d be helpful in securing assistance from the garrison. Maciel, the thief’s daughter. Gillian of Passey. Brooke was grinning as if she were ready to rush an army all by herself. The group of them gathered together, anxious to see the king up close.
“Stand at arms!” Captain Staeli roared, his command breaking the spell of adoration.
At his command, all the women separated into even rows and columns, legs spread in a martial stance, one hand behind their backs, their faces at attention.
Staeli walked slowly and deliberately, pausing to gaze sternly at the girls who had not fully stifled their excitement.
“My lord,” Staeli said with a sniff, bowing before the king, “I present to you the Oath Maidens of Averanche. All have been trained and will serve you faithfully. There is not a one of them whom I wouldn’t trust your life with, my lord king. They will fight to the last. Every single one of them.”
King Drew nodded his head at the little speech. He began to stride in front of the first row of warriors. “Last night, I was driven from the palace of Kingfountain by treachery,” he said. “My wife and daughter, I presume, have made it to the sanctuary of Our Lady. I know not for certain. I have no Espion to give me reports. I have none of my knights or captains. You,” he said, pausing in his walk and gazing at them, “are all that I have. We go to battle, my friends. I will not relinquish this crown willingly. Our enemy has magic in his words. He has persuaded many to bend the knee and serve him. He has replaced kings with men of his choosing. But our most dangerous foes are his Wizrs, who scheme and plot and murder. They do not know us or our customs very well. And they do not know that our people will not be ruled by a stranger.”
He unsheathed the sword Firebos, and a shimmering blue light emanated from the naked blade as he held it aloft. “The Fountain gave me this weapon just as it gave me this crown.” He lowered his sword. “And it has given me all of you.” Drew paused, his voice becoming thick with emotion. “I may not deserve such blessings, but I am grateful for them. I accept your oath of service. Serve the Fountain, and you serve me. We ride to the North. I will defend my kingdom at Dundrennan. Ride with me, my sisters. Fight with me. You each have the courage of a hundred men.”
A shout of energy throbbed in the air as the Oath Maidens united their voices in a thunderous cheer.
The army of Averanche camped that night in a meadow beside an ancient grove of yew trees. Everyone would sleep out of doors on blankets, including the king. While the men from Trynne’s garrison in Averanche had chosen to camp in the meadow itself, the women had sought the shelter of the yew trees. There were no cookfires to reveal the army’s position. The horses were being tended to.