“Later still. The king finally went to bed,” Cecily said. “The palace is quieting down. I’m sorry I couldn’t come before now, but I was needed to translate for some Brugian guests.”
“You could have come in the morning,” Ransom said. “Why now?”
“Because I have to attend to them all day tomorrow,” she said. “And I thought you’d want to know the news.”
Ransom rose from the bed. It was dark, but moonlight streamed in from the window. He motioned to the only chair in the room. “Sit. Tell me.”
“I’ll wait by the door so I can keep an ear out for the night watch,” she said.
He knew the risk she was taking by continuing to help him. And he appreciated it. “Have you news from Legault?”
“Yes, but let me tell you about the Brugians first. Lord Gotz defeated the last bit of resistance and proclaimed himself king. It’s taken him this long to consolidate power, but he’s now the ruler. The ransom we paid to free Benedict won him the crown after all.”
That wasn’t a surprise. The duke’s ambition had been plain to see when Ransom and Cecily had gone to rescue their king. It seemed a lifetime ago.
“You mentioned you were called on as an interpreter,” Ransom said.
“The new Brugian king sent an emissary to Kingfountain to notify us of his coming coronation at the Wartburg. He asked, specifically, that you attend the coronation. Gotz wants you to be the emissary of Ceredigion to his new court.”
Ransom started with surprise. “Does he know about my fall from grace?”
“It’s unclear, Ransom. But he asked for you by name, and it upset him when Jon-Landon said he would send Lord Kiskaddon instead. I was asked to smooth things over with the emissary, but he’s furious and offended. Lord Gotz admires power, and he wanted Ceredigion’s best knight to stand in for the king. The emissary knows Kiskaddon is out of favor.”
“And Lord Faulkes isn’t available,” Ransom mused. “The Brugians haven’t troubled us in years.”
“I know. It’s been a long time. And now that his contest is won, Gotz is in a position to meddle in other affairs. Like ours. If he finds out that we’re sending troops to Legault, he might see an opening, a weakness.”
Ransom sighed. “Jon-Landon isn’t as shrewd as his father.”
“Not by half,” agreed Cecily. “Now for the news about Legault.”
“Yes?”
“A fleet of ships was sent to blockade Connaught. Faulkes is assembling an army to attack the castle. He controls the lower half of Legault right now and married the heiress . . . Tenthor’s niece? Is that right?”
“Yes, that was what we’d heard he intended to do.”
“He named himself her guardian and married her within the week.”
Disappointment rankled inside Ransom. He’d liked Tenthor, a lot, and would have wished for more for his niece. Dawson would have made a better husband.
“It’s the custom in Legault that the wife gets to choose her husband,” Ransom said.
Cecily was quiet for a moment. “I can’t say this for certain, but I don’t think she was given a choice. I’ve heard one of the Espion bragging that the marriage ceremony was rather . . . short. That she was forced to say yes.”
Fury blazed in Ransom’s chest. He started pacing, then paused, trying to keep the anger from his voice. “I sent Simon to reinforce Connaught. Do you know if he arrived in time?”
“I don’t think they did,” she said softly. “The king’s fleet was waiting at Blackpool. They would have gotten there first.”
Ransom’s anguish doubled at the knowledge that Claire was facing immense odds. And she would have to face them alone.
He knew she wouldn’t surrender. She would not go back into bondage.
“I must go,” Cecily whispered.
Ransom turned. “Thank you,” he told her sincerely. “Thank you for everything.”
She looked down. “Why don’t you fight back? Many would follow your example.”
He knew she spoke the truth.
“And that’s why I can’t,” he told her.
In the darkness of the room, he felt his Fountain magic throb. It was just a single pulse, a feeling of agreement. He didn’t know why the Fountain had brought him to this prison, but he would not abandon the duty it had set out for him.
Even if his king took everything from him.
It has been over a fortnight since I last wrote. Simon arrived with reinforcements from Glosstyr. Because of the blockade, they were forced to land on a different part of the island before making their way to Connaught. The additional soldiers were greatly appreciated, and Simon’s counsel about the war has been useful.
Our defense comes down to two options. If we remain in the castle, they can pin us here indefinitely while they conquer the rest of the island. I don’t care for this approach, although it would enable us to hold out for months. The other option is hiding a large number of our soldiers in the woods. We draw their gaze to the castle itself and then attack them when they least expect it. The danger of this strategy is that our force may not be large enough to defeat theirs, and we risk losing because retreat would be impossible. Our men would be cut off from the castle, and I don’t think Faulkes would show mercy. But if we could defeat his army, it would end the conflict and allow us to bide our time for another invasion from Ceredigion while rallying strength from the lords who are still loyal.
Dawson and Simon think that the second plan is worth the risk. Dearley thinks the first has a better chance of long-term success. Faulkes and his army are coming up the road and will be here in three days if not sooner. It is time to decide.
—Claire de Murrow, Queen of the Fair Isle
(fateful choices)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Vultures of War
Days turned into weeks, and Ransom found it difficult to keep track of the passing time. He longed for any news from Legault, but what little tidings Cecily supplied were grim. Half of the island kingdom had been conquered, and Faulkes had finally turned his machinations against Connaught itself. More than anything, Ransom wished he were there to face the threat himself. He thought about slipping away from the palace with the boys, but his conscience forbade it. He could not forget Alix’s wish to kill the king and his children, to end the game and doom Ceredigion to a watery grave.
Because of the insult to King Gotz, the Brugians began to launch raiding ships against Ceredigion’s coast. Perhaps encouraged by their example, the Atabyrions began a series of incursions against North Cumbria. And the Occitanians began building at the ruins of Tatton Grange in order to build a stronghold in Westmarch.
With the threats around him growing, Jon-Landon summoned his council to meet at Kingfountain. Ransom wasn’t invited to participate, of course, but he was interested in what was going on. He was walking the inner corridors of the palace, waiting for news from the council, when he heard shouting from inside the great hall. His stomach clenched. The door leading to the great hall was shoved open, and Lord Kiskaddon stormed out, his face splotched with color. Ransom had never seen the man so angry before.
Kiskaddon marched down the corridor, slowing when he noticed Ransom some distance away. There were servants nearby, exchanging worried looks, but the duke’s attention was fixed on Ransom. He approached him, shaking his head in disgust.