The Maid's War(87)

“How dare you!” Hastings seethed. “You have gone too far, my lord duke of Glosstyr! The king will not—”

“Shut it, Will,” the king said angrily, rising from his stuffed chair. A tall man, he towered over his brothers and everyone else in the room, except for Tunmore. “If anyone needs a rebuke, it’s the rest of you. You all encouraged this peace because of the wealth it will bring you individually. The difference it will make to not just the royal coffers, but your own. At least Severn has the courage to speak the truth. Even if I don’t care to hear it,” he added with a surly tone.

The king scratched behind his ear, where Ankarette saw tufts of gray creeping through his dark hair like vines. He paced a moment, his lips pursed, his expression grim. “You have always been loyal to me, Brother. More loyal than some,” he added with a glare at Dunsdworth. He was referring to a previous treachery that Ankarette had helped resolve.

“Loyalty binds me,” Severn said firmly, his hand gripping the dagger hilt.

The king sauntered over to a small round wooden table held up by three rounded iron stays. Atop the table sat a chest with a curved handle. The king gazed down at the chest and grazed the top of it with his fingers. He glanced over at Tunmore, who stood imperiously to the side of the gathering, thurible chain still in hand, wisely saying nothing.

Eredur turned to face Severn. “While I value your counsel, Brother, and I truly do, sometimes a king must make decisions that will be misinterpreted or even misjudged.” He looked at his younger brother with intense eyes. “I could defeat the Spider King. The risks are great, but I have faced far worse! And with you at my side, Brothers, he would have no hope of defeating the might of Ceredigion. I have no doubt we’d be victorious. But at what cost? At what cost?” he added in an almost whisper. Then he shook his head. “Send word to my herald that we’ll meet Lewis on the bridge. Announce us.”

There was an audible gasp of delight and rapture from most of the other lords, including Dunsdworth, who cast a mocking glance at Severn. The Duke of Glosstyr stood there in his black garb, the badge of the white boar almost gleaming on his tunic. He stared at Eredur with smoldering anger, fists clenched.

“I’ll not be joining you,” Severn said angrily.

“So be it,” Eredur said. “Do you want your portion of the reward?”

Severn shook his head. “I’ll take none of the Spider King’s treasure. You take my share, Brother. Spend it as you will.” Then he whirled around and stormed out of the tent.

Eredur slowly shook his head in disappointment as he stared at the fluttering curtain of the tent.

“The man was weaned on spoiled milk, I daresay,” said Lord Rivers. “I’ll take his share if he doesn’t want it.”

“Don’t you dare speak of my lady mother in such a way!” the king snapped, freezing everyone with his sudden anger. Then the king smiled, breaking the tension. “Only I can.” A round of laughter graced his statement. Eredur knew how to charm when he wished to—there was no denying it. Only Duke Horwath didn’t participate. He was as stern and solemn as ever.

Dunsdworth came up and clapped Eredur on the back. “Shall we go, Brother? I can’t wait to see Lewis again.”

“Go on, my lords,” Eredur said. “I require a moment with the deconeus.”

“Another confession?” Hastings said with a laugh. “Have you sinned so soon, my lord, that you seek the Fountain’s blessing?”

Eredur narrowed his gaze at the other man, but said nothing. The lords quickly departed the spacious tent, some grabbing wafers and food from the half-eaten trays. Once their laughter and joviality started to fade into the distance, the king summoned Ankarette.

She stepped around the changing screen upon hearing her name.

The king was still staring at the chest. He rested his hand on it once more. The look he gave her was enigmatic. “Thank you, my dear,” he said genuinely. “Your service may have gone unnoticed by everyone except the deconeus and myself, but it is no less valuable to me. You have brought me a gift that is worth more than the ransom King Lewis is attempting to bribe me with. This gift,” he added, patting the chest. “Is worth more than a crown, though it cannot be used by any but the heirs to one. Do you know what it is?”

Ankarette shook her head. “I’ve not seen inside, my lord.”

He nodded sagely. “It is unlike any treasure you’ve seen. It is a blessing from the Fountain to Ceredigion. It speaks of hope and peace.” Tears suddenly moistened his eyes. “It whispers that King Andrew may yet return. From my seed.” He shook his head in wonderment. “When I sent you to Pree to seek the Maid’s sword, I didn’t think that what you’d find instead would be even more important. We still don’t know where her sword is. But I have a feeling the Fountain will reveal it in its own due time. And so we will wait.” He looked at her with an expression that was almost imploring, as if he wanted her to understand something he wasn’t permitted to reveal. “I am not surrendering my honor by agreeing to this truce,” he said. “Believe that, Ankarette Tryneowy. Regardless of what my brother has said or what the world thinks. When this scene on the bridge is over, I want you to return to Kingfountain at once and explain to my wife what happened. Tell her the story you told me.” He smirked. “She’ll be pleased to hear it, I think.”