“This is my castle,” Ransom said firmly. “By what right do the king’s men guard it?”
“By the king’s right, of course,” Faulkes said, leaning forward. He seemed to relish the opportunity to argue. “Funds to fortify this castle were given to Lord Archer by Jon-Landon’s father, the Elder King. That makes it a royal castle, and I have every right to lay claim to it now that the king has bid me do so. I have the writ if you’d like to see it.”
“I don’t need to see it,” Ransom said tightly.
“Good. Now be a good dog, Ransom, and respond to your master’s whistle. The king expects to see you at the palace. You’d best hurry.”
His manner was provoking enough that Ransom itched to put his hand on his sword. When he was made a knight, he’d been given the last strike he was required to take without fighting back. Faulkes was goading him deliberately. Which made it all the more important for him to resist the provocation. Ransom’s sons were hostages still, and their fate hinged on his behavior. Moreover, the Fountain wanted him to support the Argentines.
“I will go,” Ransom said, turning to face the assembled nobles. “But I demand oaths of fealty, as is my right, before I leave.” He strode to the dais and climbed the steps, standing above Faulkes, who sat in the chair. Whispers began to grow louder as the tension in the room increased. It was Ransom’s right to demand their oaths. And any man who lifted arms against Ransom or his kin after taking such an oath would face their due punishment once he returned. Some of the nobles exchanged glances.
“If you wish to waste your time,” Faulkes said with a snort. “So be it.”
Dawson was the first to drop to his knee and swear loyalty to Ransom and his house. So did his other knights, one by one in quick succession. Lord Dupree came next, without hesitation. But some of those who knelt before him had guilty looks in their eyes. They made their promises—words—but he knew in his heart they wouldn’t honor them. None, however, refused.
When the ceremony ended, Ransom turned to Faulkes.
“Satisfied?” asked the lackey.
“I will come back, Faulkes,” Ransom said in a low voice. “Remember that.”
“Oh, I am sure you will. You may not like the changes instituted during your absence.”
“What changes?” Ransom demanded.
Faulkes shrugged, his eyes glittering with animosity. “Ask the king when you see him. Farewell, my lord duke.”
Ransom strode out of the hall, accompanied by his knights. When they reached their mounts in the courtyard, Dawson came closer and addressed him in an undertone.
“Let me come with you, my lord,” he pleaded. “You will not be treated justly.”
Ransom turned and looked at the other man’s sincere expression. He sighed. “I need you here to defend my interests. Are you loyal to me?”
“You know I am,” Dawson vowed.
“Then defend my family. I have no choice but to go. The vows I’ve made require it. But your loyalty requires that you stay.”
Dawson screwed up his face. “I’ll defend your castle. No matter what happens.”
“I’m counting on it. I’m counting on you and Dearley and the others.”
Dawson nodded resolutely and gave him the knight’s salute. Ransom returned it, feeling grateful that he could count on his men.
For he knew that not many in the great hall were as trustworthy.
Ransom stayed in Glosstyr for a few days, reviewing his finances with Simon and handling matters that required his attention. Trade had recommenced after the pause in hostilities with Occitania, and the city was thriving. Ransom arranged for his personal fortune to be sent to Legault, in preparation for the possibility the duchy would be ripped away from him.
“I might not be able to communicate with you after I go to the palace,” he warned Simon. “You must act as you believe I would. I gave Dawson and Dearley the same instructions before leaving Connaught.”
Simon was quick to agree.
On his third day, Ransom awoke before dawn to a familiar feeling in his chest. Another Fountain-blessed was in the castle. Ransom threw off his covers, moving fast as he pulled on his hauberk and strapped his sword to his waist. He went outside his room and barked for the night sentry to sound the alarm. Fear churned inside his stomach, but it struck him that Alix wasn’t moving—she was staying put.
As soon as the night watch had assembled, along with a bleary-eyed Simon, he told them to fall in behind him as he followed the rippling sensation of Alix’s magic. She still hadn’t moved.
As he walked down the corridor, he realized that the presence emanated from one of the decorative fountains near the castle’s chapel. The sun was rising now, providing ample light. His throat tight with thirst and worry, he passed the row of arches that overlooked the sea and the harbor farther away from the cliffs.
“Where are we going?” Simon asked him.
“Lady Alix is here,” he said. “Estian’s poisoner.”
Simon’s eyes widened. “In the castle?”
“Yes.”
Members of the night watch looked at one another in consternation. Was one of them guilty of letting her in? She had a way of convincing others to do her bidding, but that wasn’t her only talent. She possessed a magical ability to travel long distances through the fountains. When they reached the end of the corridor, approaching the small alcove adjacent to the chapel doors, Ransom drew a dagger.
There was no disguising the sound of their approach. The march of steps clearly announced they were coming, but Alix still didn’t move. She was waiting for him.
He reached out with his magic, trying to sense any other threat.
She was alone.
He paused at the opening of the alcove. There she was, in a luxurious cloak, hood lifted, standing across the fountain from him. The water rippled and burbled between them.
“We need to talk,” she told him.
“I have a pretty spot down in my dungeon,” he suggested. “Some moldy bread perhaps to break our fast?”
He could not see her face very well, as the sun had not risen very much, but he recognized the pearl bracelet around her wrist. It was, he had long suspected, her relic from the fountain. She carried no weapon, but her very presence was a danger.
“I won’t be staying long,” she said. “There is something you need to know before you return to Kingfountain. A secret your king is keeping from you.”
He wrinkled his brow. She had the power to influence with her words, to make people believe things they might naturally doubt. But she was not using it now.
“How can I trust anything you’d say?” he asked.
“Because I know you’ll find out the truth yourself.” Her voice was cold, accusing. She seemed angry, although her expression gave nothing away. “I will only tell you. Have the others back away.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Simon warned. “It’s another trick.”
She stepped partway around the fountain, her cloak swishing against the edge of the stone. “Oh, it is much worse than that,” she said. “Estian has given me permission to be here, but I bring nothing but the truth. If you don’t want to know what your king has done, then I will return to Pree.”