Page 94 of The Queen's Huntsman
His father answered with silence, and Bryn continued. “I also wondered why Queen Innogen—indeed, even her son—would be so willing to believe my uncle would so readily bend the knee that they would invite him to feast.”
“My brother—”
“Shut up!” Bryn exploded, and it was only in that moment that Gwendolyn was reassured… He was on her side. The hatred she spied in his countenance as he regarded his father grew palpable, but quickly, on the heels of that thought, came another… if she allowed Bryn to kill his father, he would never be the same thereafter.
“Even when Adwentoldme he suspected your part in the coup, I refused to believe it.”
“You knew?” Gwendolyn asked, stunned, her hand automatically reaching for Borlewen’s blade, her thumb pressing against the dragon’s eye. But Bryn did not look at her and neither did his father. Father and son continued to glare at one another.
Bryn walked about his father, and with Gwendolyn swordless, he mistook her to be the lesser threat, following his son as Bryn turned him in a circle. “Why, Father? Why, when you could have had Durotriges?”
“You fool! I did not want Durotriges!” replied Talwyn. “I wanted Trevena and Cornwall. What is a sad little village in comparison?”
Rage burned through Gwendolyn’s veins—more intense by far than her outrage over Bryn’s closely kept secret. There were far too many secrets being kept, but she wanted this man dead.
Faces flashed before her—her father, her mother, Demelza, Cunnedda, Beryan, her sweet cousins, Lowenna…
She wanted to cut out Talwyn’s heart and hold it in her hand, crush it as he had crushed hers. But if she did this, Bryn would never forgive her…
Unbidden, Málik’s voice whispered into her ear—an echo from the past…Notice where the point is… Do not aim for the heart. ’Tis difficult to hit anything of consequence when you stab a man in the back. Here, you will pierce the reins. The pain will be excruciating, and your opponent will drop like a stone.
No longer would she allow others to fight her battles. If she would be queen, it must come at the cost of blood… beginning with Talwyn’s.
Gwendolyn moved close enough to kick her fallen sword to across the room. When Talwyn turned toward the sound, that’s when she moved. The blade in her hand was long enough to slip between a rib and stab a heart. But she sought the place Málik once directed her.His Liver.Unerringly, Borlewen’s blade pierced his reins, and her traitor—Bryn’s father—dropped like a stone.
ChapterForty-Four
Gwendolyn sent messengers into the Cod’s Wold to retrieve any who would come to the city. A few would remain with their flocks. The rolling hills were ideal for grazing sheep, and Málik suggested their presence would be gladly received, for the weavers in the Eastwalas temple were sorely in need of a good supply of wool—some for their death shrouds, some for their scholarly robes.
Here in Trevena, Caradoc immediately settled himself in the king’s chamber, and despite that Gwendolyn had some trepidation over leaving him with the keys to her city, she knew she must. She had spoken truthfully when she’d said she could not cower behind Trevena’s gates. As it stood, she had but a handful of castaways amidst her numbers, and if she did not seek an alliance with the rest of Pretania’s tribes, they would wither away in this corner of the isle and die. Indeed, for all the reasons she’d previously disclosed, one prolonged siege might finish them, and if they did not drive each other mad, or die of starvation, they would eventually take their final breaths in a city where no one could be interred and their bodies must be cast into the sea.
Under a crescent moon, she stood musing atop the ramparts, arms crossed against a cool evening breeze, staring out over the darkened city. There were but a few discernible lights in the barbican and beyond, but the city itself lay at rest, all lights extinguished so that only the stars and moon lit the night. But Gwendolyn could not rest—not yet. There was too much to be done to restore the city to its former glory. Their stores were entirely depleted, and except for the men she’d brought with her, the garrison lay unmanned. So many of her father’s loyal warriors fled after Talwyn’s betrayal.
Already, she’d dispatched messengers to nearby villages to see what could be spared—be it men, or supplies. Now, with the tarp once again lifted to bare the Dragon’s Flame, the port was preparing to receive ships, although it would take time for the return to normal business, and some manner of practicable defense for the harbor must be established to guard against raiders.
No longer could they adhere to her father’s open-door practice. They must now find some compromise that would allow for the import of goods without leaving them quite so vulnerable.
As for Yestin. She hadn’t yet decided what to do about him. The poor man was heartbroken, and he had done no more than listen to the wrong person. He had believed with all his might that Gwendolyn would never be harmed. His worst offense was the betrayal of her father, but he had also believed the King was dying, and he’d considered her father’s death a mercy. But, as influential as he always was, Talwyn was even more so, and Talwyn wasn’t merely his brother by law, he was the Mester at Arms. As such, he should have known best how to defend the city. That Yestin later discovered a lover amidst the enemy hadn’t helped her father’s cause, but the death of his lover was, perhaps, punishment enough. His remorse over his part in the coup was more than apparent. He himself had insisted upon being held in a gaol cell, and refused to eat or drink. Tonight, Gwendolyn had insisted he be removed, and detained in his own quarters and before she left, she must attend him to see what more she could discover about Loc and his defenses.
And yet, what irony there was in that the most impenetrable city on the isles was so easily infiltrated by a handful of men, and one woman.
Unfortunately, now that so many knew about the city’s one vulnerability in terms of accessibility, she must order the destruction of her father’spiscina.Even now, the long shaft housing the water screw was being prepared to be dismantled and sealed.
Later, if perchance Caradoc intended to betray her, Gwendolyn would have no way back into the city. But that could not prevent her from pursuing justice.
Sadly, after all she had endured, trust would not come easily, but she must begin somewhere or she’d accomplish little, and Locrinus would prevail.
But for Talwyn…
She shook her head, remembering the hatred that gushed from him. She had never had a clue—not one inkling—that he’d felt this way about Gwendolyn and her family.
Gods.The look on Bryn’s face when she slew his father was one Gwendolyn would not soon forget—such torment, such pain, and grief… Yet he seemed to understand she’d had to do it.
Poor Ely… the tears she’d wept would fill thepiscina.
And still there was no word of Lady Ruan. Moreover, no one could say whether Queen Eseld and Demelza had followed her. In truth, there was no proof anyone had escaped. For all Gwendolyn knew, Talwyn was lying and perhaps he’d murdered his own wife, disposing of her along with the rest of the dissenters?
Gwendolyn’s hope was that Yestin had insisted his sister fled with her maid, and if Lady Ruan found a way out of this city, perhaps Gwendolyn’s mother had as well?
