The Thief's Daughter (26 page)

The young man stared at Owen, his face betraying his surprise. “You came all this way. You risked your very life to come here.”

Owen nodded. “Your uncle needed to be sure. He couldn’t trust the rumors or the reports. It is only too easy to deceive.”

“My uncle?” Eyric said with a twinge of wrath. “Of course my uncle wants me. He wants me dead.”

Owen shook his head. “He does not. I assure you. Tell me who you are.”

“I am Eyric Argentine, son of Eredur. I swear it by the Fountain.”

It is true
.

“I believe you,” Owen said. “The Espion reported that you were possibly a fisherman’s son, Piers Urbick.”

Eyric nodded. “The Urbicks protected me. They raised me. They were paid well to confess that I was their natural child.”

“Why the deception?” Owen pressed, stepping away from the window. “Why pay them to lie about you?”

Eyric’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t have to tell you.”

Owen shook his head. “Why not? What is going on?”

“More than you know” was the evasive answer. “More than Severn knows. He cannot be allowed to remain as king. He cannot wear the hollow crown. I must take it from him.”

“I don’t think that you can,” Owen said simply. “The lord marshal of Brythonica was just at Edonburick, warning Iago that he will not support your uprising. And the people, Eyric, won’t rally to you. Chatriyon is only using you to defy your uncle. He means to force a marriage to your sister and claim the throne for himself.”

Eyric’s look darkened. “I don’t believe you.”

“You are being used by both sides,” Owen insisted. “Think, man! Chatriyon only wants power for himself, and Iago is using you to topple Severn for his own purposes. You are their puppet. Let me help you cut the strings.”

“How?” Eyric said angrily. He frowned and started pacing, looking as if he wanted to grab one of the vases and hurl it down onto the floor. “If Severn gets his hands on me, he will finish what he failed to do all those years ago. I was a
child
!”

Owen stepped forward. “I understand that. Believe me, I do. I spent months living at Kingfountain, shuddering with fear, thinking the king was going to murder me or throw me off the waterfall. My father betrayed him at Ambion Hill.”

“But you have value to him,” Eyric snapped. “You are Fountain-blessed. Of course he would want to save your life. I am his rival. He sent you here to kill me. If I don’t come with you, you are supposed to murder me. Can you deny it?”

Owen breathed in slowly, trying to calm his own emotions. “Only if you were an imposter,” he said calmly. “Only if you were really Piers Urbick. But you are not. You are Eyric Argentine. When we first arrived, when I first saw you at Iago’s court, you said who you were, and the Fountain told me it was true.”

Eyric’s eyes widened. “Then you know my claim is just. You know I am your rightful king!” A look of hope sparked in his eyes. “If you help me regain my throne, your place in my court will be unparalleled. Name your terms, and I will grant them, even up to half of my kingdom. With you on my side, Lord Owen, I can do this!” His eyes were lit from within. “I will reward you with anything you desire.”

A roaring sound filled Owen’s ears. The roar of ambition, which he’d heard once before, while Iago and Evie were playing Wizr. He saw the possibilities, the chance to have Evie for his own. Severn was reluctant to unite the two duchies, but Eyric would be happy to grant him such a boon. Owen had never felt so tempted in his life. He saw the road in front of him. But it would mean betraying Severn. It would mean betraying the man who had guided him and given him his current rank. The man who had sent him to Atabyrion to help Evie win the heart of another man. Owen’s heart ached with pain.
This
is why men rebelled.
This
is how they fell.

“I am no kingmaker,” Owen said, shaking his head slowly. “I’ve read enough history to know what happens to such people. If you want to be a king, you must do it on your own merits. I will oppose you. Vigorously.”

Eyric breathed in through his nose. “Your integrity does you credit, my lord.”

“Loyalty binds me,” Owen said simply. “Reconsider your own claims. Your own ambition. When you were a prince, you were the Duke of Yuork.”

“A title my uncle stripped from me!” Eyric spat.

Owen stepped forward. “But what if he restored it? You are his brother’s child. I know, for myself, that he deeply regrets what happened to you and your brother. It was none of his doing.”

“None of his doing? He usurped the throne from us!”

Owen shook his head. “Because of your mother. She tried wresting the protectorship from him—the protectorship your father granted to your uncle. I know the history, Eyric. We cannot undo what was done. But if you came to court, I am certain the king would not only spare your life, but he would also make you one of the nobles of the realm. You lack experience and training. You’ve been running for most of your entire life. Come with me to Kingfountain. I will speak on your behalf, and I give you my word, Severn is not the monster you fear him to be. Reconcile with him and you will gain more than what you have now. This is a beautiful manor. You have a beautiful wife. Lay aside your claim to the crown. Come back with me. I implore you.”

Eyric was breathing hard and he had a wild look in his eye. Beads of sweat trickled down his temples. “If only you knew,” he muttered.

“Knew what?” Owen demanded hotly.

Eyric looked up at Owen. “It is a secret I cannot tell.”

The door to the solar burst open, and the steward could be seen directing guards into the room. “Take him! Take him at once!”

For a moment, Owen didn’t know who they were going to seize. But then he saw the look of triumph in Eyric’s eyes.

“You had your chance to join me,” Eyric said. “Without you, Severn will fall. And when he does, you will lose everything.”

In my research of the history of Ceredigion, I have been reading the interesting accounts of the Maid of Donremy. Truly, she is perhaps the most notable Fountain-blessed these lands have witnessed in several hundred years. She was a peasant girl who came from a town on the border between Brythonica and Occitania. She turned the tide in the conflict between the protector of Ceredigion and the Prince of Occitania. One of the more fascinating aspects is that her rise to power occurred after she met the prince. The Prince of Occitania demanded proof that she was Fountain-blessed. She demonstrated her talent by visiting the sanctuary of Our Lady of Firebos. She reached her hand into the waters of the fountain and withdrew a sword. It was cankered with rust, but the rust quickly fell away with a little scrubbing. There were five stars on the blade. That is all we know about her sword. When she was eventually captured, she no longer had the sword. No one knows where it is. The Occitanians believe that if their kingdom is ever invaded again, another Maid will rise up with the sword and expel the invaders. I did find one rumor in my search. One reference claimed the sword was found not at Firebos, but at the island sanctuary in Brythonica.

—Polidoro Urbino, Court Historian of Kingfountain

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Refuge

A shower of glass and fragments of wood preceded Owen’s departure from the bay window. He had deliberately placed himself there, realizing it afforded him the most expeditious way to retreat from the manor. Shouts from behind heralded the arrival of his pursuers, and he wasted no time in drawing his sword and dashing for the front of the manor, where, he hoped, they had untethered the horses from the carriage.

Using his Fountain magic, he sent a thought hurtling through the air at Etayne.
We must go. Now!

As he rounded the corner, he saw that both of the carriage horses were free, and the servant with the whip was standing by them, his eyes wide with concern at the sudden commotion. The front door was wrenched open, and two men with swords emerged, coming at a sprint to head off Owen.

The servant with the whip blanched and fit his own foot into one of the stirrups and hoisted himself onto the mount, then started whipping it violently on the flanks to get himself as far away as possible. That left one horse for Owen and Etayne.

As he ran toward the confused beast, he realized he could be pulled out of the saddle before he had the chance to escape, so he changed his tactics. Instead of fleeing the two men, he charged them. Hours and hours at the training yard came rushing back to him in a whirlwind. He didn’t slow down at all as he rushed toward the nearest man and raised his sword for a downward thrust. Changing tactics at the last moment to catch the man off guard, he leaped forward instead, his boot connecting with the man’s stomach so hard the man nearly backflipped and landed on his face.

The other Atabyrion lunged at Owen, and their blades connected. Owen parried twice, then dropped low and sliced the man’s leg at the knee. There was a jet of blood, but Owen was not trying to amputate his leg, only cripple him and prevent him from pursuing them.

Kathryn is drugged.
The thought came from Etayne.
I’m going to poison Eyric’s gloves to incapacitate him.

No!
Owen thought back. He stared briefly at the farthest part of the building, the one half-overgrown with foliage.
Get out here! Meet me there.
He knew that she could see the vision of it in her mind.

This may be my only chance!
Etayne thought back angrily.
I cannot fail this mission!

He could sense the determination in her thoughts. She had been trained by the very best poisoners in Pisan, and she did not want her first major assignment to bring her shame. Owen also realized, however, that if he left without her, it was probable she would be caught and killed. Ankarette had been tormented with guilt after accidentally poisoning the wife of her intended victim. Haste was dangerous.

Listen to me, Etayne!
Owen thought back. He reached the horse and swung up into the saddle as the guards rounded the end of the manor and rushed at him. He slapped the horse’s flank with the flat of his blade to get it moving. His heart was thundering in his ears at the closeness of his pursuers.
Get out here. Now! I’ll circle back for you!

No, my lord. I’ll steal a horse and meet you at Edonburick. I can get Eyric. I know I can. Let me try!

Owen’s mount was starting to gallop, and Owen had to hold tight with his knees and ride low against the horse’s neck. One of the men sprinted after him. He was quite a runner, but even he could not outrun a horse. Owen stared back at him, smiling as the gap widened. The man quit the pursuit, hurling an epithet after him.

It’s no good, Etayne. They know who I am now. We’re leaving as soon as we get back to Edonburick. I’m not going to leave you behind. Now quit being stubborn and get outside! Don’t make me come in there to fetch you.

He could sense a hive of black thoughts.
Yes, my lord.

Owen circled back, bringing his horse into the trees for cover. He wondered whether he had done the right thing in revealing himself to Eyric. He grit his teeth, angry that the man was too afeared of his uncle to accept Owen’s words. He was angry, but he knew he shouldn’t be surprised. The man had been trained his whole life to fear Severn, to mistrust him. And now he had a beautiful wife who was the daughter of Atabyrion’s wealthiest earl. What promises had he made to her? What promises had he made to everyone else? No, Owen realized that it had been naive for him to believe he had even the slimmest chance to change his mind. But he also couldn’t stomach the thought of murdering him, especially since he knew the king’s own feelings argued against it. He was an enemy to Ceredigion, but he was no traitor. He had a claim on the throne, if a weak one. Like Etayne, Owen was troubled by the thought that he’d failed in his mission. He had come to prevent a war. And from the way things were shaping up, he’d probably contributed to starting one instead.

Where are you?
he thought, reaching out to Etayne. The trees ghosted past him, and the horse was tense and nervous, snorting angrily at its rider.

Silence.

Owen’s heart thrummed with worry. He could see part of the estate through the trees ahead. He’d taken his mount into the woods on the side closest to the ivy-thick edge he had shown her in his mind. If he got too close, he would be seen. He reached out with his senses, listening, and heard the sound of men and horses. Through the trees, he could see Eyric was in the front of the manor, talking to the guards. Groomsmen were bringing up horses from the stables, one at a time. Owen wiped the sweat from his upper lip. Eyric was going to ride after him. He could hear the murmuring of voices, but at this distance, they were indistinguishable even to him.

Etayne!
he thought again, gritting his teeth.

No answer.

His horse snorted loudly, and Owen frowned, hoping the sound had not been heard over the ruckus. “Where are you?” he muttered angrily, staring at the manor, feeling the hard saddle beneath him.

Then he saw her slipping out the rear door of the ivy-choked house. Suddenly there was a scream and a shout. “Over here! There’s one of ’em here! She just left out the back! Hurry!”

The men milling around the entrance came running. One of the guards was mounted, and he kicked his beast into a trot.

Owen saw Etayne slip into the woods, wearing a pale white gown, Atabyrion in style. It was one of Kathryn’s gowns. He clicked his tongue and whistled, and her eyes darted over to him. A look of relief crossed her face, and he met her partway. Reaching down, he took her hand and swung her up into the saddle behind him.

“Why didn’t you answer me?” he snarled at her.

She shook her head, her expression darkening. “I couldn’t hear you. My magic . . . my magic failed.” There was an exhausted look on her face and she swayed a little in the saddle. Now he understood. She had expended her power in trying to maintain her illusion for too long. Her capacity would grow with time and practice. He realized that if she’d stayed behind, she would likely have fallen unconscious.

“I’m glad you listened to me,” he said with maybe a bit too much self-satisfaction.

“In the trees! Over there!”

“I see them!”

The voices startled Owen and Etayne.

He sighed. “Hold on to me tightly. I want to get to Edonburick before Eyric.”

Etayne nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist, tightening her grip on her wrists. “Thank you,” she whispered. The look in her eyes was revealing, vulnerable. He smiled at her and turned away, wondering what she was thinking. In truth, he was afraid of what the look meant. She was the daughter of a thief, a sanctuary man. He was the Duke of Westmarch.

And his heart belonged to an earl’s daughter.

“I don’t understand why you must depart so quickly,” Iago said as they walked down the many wooden steps leading to the docks. Owen was a few steps behind, watching Evie and the king as they walked ahead of him. “Surely you can wait until tomorrow? I thought you wanted to see Eyric and Kathryn yourself?”

“I did, my lord,” Evie said evasively. “But I received an urgent summons back to Kingfountain. I must depart at once.”

Iago looked upset. “What does that mean? Why would Severn want you back so quickly? I was really enjoying our walk today and felt we were making strides. You’re a remarkable woman. I was expecting your stay to be much longer.”

“I must go,” Evie said. She glanced back at Owen with worry in her eyes. She knew about the disaster that had unfolded at Eyric’s lodge, so she was just as eager as he was to seek refuge back in Ceredigion. They did not have much time to take their leave. Iago looked like a disconsolate puppy. Owen wanted to kick him. Etayne had ventured ahead to tell the captain to make ready.

They reached the bottom tier of the docks. The sound of the waterfall made soft communication difficult, so Iago raised his voice. “When can I see you again?”

Evie looked flustered by the persistence of his attentions. “I don’t know, my lord,” she stammered. There was some noise from higher up on the platforms. Evie glanced up, and her face went pale. “Well, it seems you have some court business that requires your attention. I thank you for your hospitality.”

Iago turned and looked back up the ramps. Men were waving down and shouting, but their words were lost in the noise. Iago frowned in annoyance. Evie was about to walk down the pier toward the ship, but Iago caught her arm. She stared at him, her eyes blazing with the fear of being caught.

“I wanted you to know,” Iago said, stepping toward her. He gently took her hand with both of his. “That I have given sincere thought to Severn’s offer. Of a truce between our kingdoms. I can’t tell you how tempted I am.”

The words sickened Owen. He grit his teeth, scowling, wanting to be away from Atabyrion and their peculiar customs and fashions. He wanted to be back in his own realm, his own kingdom, wearing his
own
badge. Iago wasn’t looking at him, but he stared at him heatedly all the same.

Evie was silent, her cheeks a little flushed.

“I am bound by honor to help Eyric. I wish I had met you prior to giving my oath. But I promise you, Lady
Mortimer
,” he added with a devious grin, “that I consider you a friend. That I will speak on your behalf when Eyric rules.” He brought her knuckles to his mouth. His look was suddenly vulnerable as he gazed at her. “You have the most bewitching eyes,” he murmured softly, and Owen nearly rammed him off the pier into the fish-soiled waters.

“I truly must go,” Evie said, trying to pull her hand away.

Iago nodded and released her hand. She started to turn and leave. Then, in an act of pure impetuousness, he strode up and caught her shoulders, brought his mouth down on hers, and kissed her right there on the docks, in front of everyone—in front of Owen. It was one of those claiming kisses, the kind that makes girls swoon and invokes murderous jealousy.

Startled by it, Evie quickly pushed him back. “My lord!” she scolded, her cheeks stained with crimson. “That was . . . presumptuous!” She wiped a hand over her mouth.

“I know,” Iago said, grinning like a fool. “I’m reckless. I take risks. And I wanted you to remember me. Farewell, my lady. Until we meet again.” He bowed graciously.

There were some whistles and catcalls from the docks and—much to Owen’s vexation—Iago Llewellyn seemed to bask in them. When Owen looked at Evie, she was staring after the king.

She sighed and shook her head, and she and Owen started up the ramp. She gave him a pointed look. “
That’s
how it’s done properly, by the way,” she said to him.

Owen was mortified. His heart burned with feelings too savage to describe. His ears were hot, his cheeks flushed, and he knew he would never scrub the memory of that kiss out of his mind. It was Evie’s first kiss. He knew that. And it had not been with him.

As the captain ordered the sailors to shove off, Etayne approached them worriedly. She wore a cloak to cover the gown she had taken from Lady Kathryn.

“What is it now?” Owen asked with concern, seeing the look in her eyes. They had separated as soon as they arrived in Edonburick from the Ardanays and had not spoken since.