The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)

Trynne looked away from Fallon, wondering if she should try to speak to him following the meeting. She was preparing to go to Chandigarl to participate in the coronation ceremony that would officially make her Gahalatine’s queen. She was nervous and excited, and part of her wanted to share those emotions with Fallon —as a friend. She hoped that her marriage would help him finally overcome his feelings for her. Now that she was wed to another, she had forced her own feelings for him into a cage deep inside her.

“I think the facts of the case,” Lord Amrein said as he paced around the Ring Table, drawing near to where she was sitting and capturing her attention, “are confusing and muddled at best. I have no fewer than twelve witnesses who swear the man in custody is the thief Dragan. We have the sworn word of Duke Fallon, who lured and trapped him.” His tone showed his respect. “I must give you credit, lad. For all my resources with the Espion, I couldn’t do it.”

Trynne shot a look at Fallon, who shrugged as if the compliment meant little to him. He made no reply.

“The problem, as I explained,” Lord Amrein continued, “is that the man has suffered a strange form of amnesia. He does not know his own name. He has no idea where he is from. Curiously, he still has the ability to steal, and every time the Espion searches him, they find small things he has stolen from his jailors here in the palace.

He’s being held in Holistern Tower at the moment, awaiting the judgment of this council.”

Duke Ramey leaned forward in his seat with a disbelieving scowl. “Is there really any point debating this? The man is a thief and a liar. He tried to kill Lord Owen. Throw him in the river and let’s be done with it. Next case.”

“We can’t throw him in the river,” Lady Evie said, shaking her head. “He’s Fountain-blessed.”

Duke Ramey reddened. “Maybe we could try several times,” he said with a hint of malice. “Or fill the boat with chains.”

Iago smirked at the statement. “I can’t say I disagree with the sentiment,” he said with his amiable brogue. “The only good serpent is a dead one, but why risk executing a Fountain-blessed in the river? Should we not take the man to the mountaintop and let him freeze? Is there anyone at the table who objects? Based on all the things Lord Kevan has told us, some of which I didn’t even know, the man is a villain. Let’s get to the king’s sister. That’s the more perplexing case we must decide.”

Duke Ramey gently thumped his fist on the Ring Table and then pointed to King Iago, nodding in agreement.

Silence hung in the room for a while as Lord Amrein looked from person to person. “Does anyone intend to speak up in favor of the condemned . . . ?” he said, his voice full of assurance that no one would.

Trynne felt as off-balance as if she were aboard a ship in a storm. She had been invited to witness the interrogation, and to her soul, she did not believe that Dragan was lying. When he looked at her, there was no recognition in his eyes. He’d asked a guard who she was and how he’d wronged her.

Trynne cleared her voice. “My lords,” she said, wondering if she were being foolish. “I know we went through the evidence already. I am one of the witnesses who identified the man.” She sighed, rubbing her palms across the table. “When I captured Rucrius, he told me something that has haunted me ever since. My father is alive, he said, but he has forgotten his family completely. He doesn’t even know his own name. Rucrius claimed that we have no comprehension of the power that the Wizrs of Chandigarl possess.”

She interlaced her fingers. “My husband has been searching for an answer to this riddle. Lord Fallon and I both believe Dragan was complicit in my father’s abduction. He admitted as much. Before we condemn him to death, can we not defer the decision until we find some means of restoring his memory? It feels . . . unjust to condemn a man who has no knowledge of his crimes. And if we do discover a way to restore his memory, there may still be some use left in him.”

They were all looking at her. They could see the evidence of Dragan’s mistreatment of her on her face. Her smiles were all crooked, her left cheek still slack because of how he had injured her as a child. That she, of all people, was speaking out for him had affected them. A hush fell in the room.

“That is very noble of you, Trynne,” Lady Evie said with a tone of respect. “I think we all want to see him punished because of what he did to your father. What he did to you.”

Trynne nodded in agreement. “I’m expecting Gahalatine to arrive any day now. Can we not wait until he arrives to see if he has brought us any new information from the Wizrs?”

Lord Amrein walked to his seat, returning to the leather folder containing the notes he’d compiled. “I don’t think we have any disagreement as to the man’s guilt or a suitable punishment. We will leave the matter to the king’s discretion.” He looked at Drew and nodded deferentially.

Drew glanced at his wife, who leaned in close to whisper something in his ear. He nodded and then reached for Trynne’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before he released it. “I trust your judgment, Trynne. More than you know. Lord Amrein, keep him confined to the tower. For the time being.”

Lord Amrein bowed stiffly. “Very well. Now we must discuss the case of your blood-sister, Morwenna.” He let out a deep sigh and shook his head. “This one will not be as easy. But it is our duty to decide guilt and to recommend punishment.” He clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace again. “Morwenna Argentine, daughter of Severn Argentine, conspired with the Mandaryn and the Wizrs of the East Kingdoms to overthrow her brother and place herself on the throne of Kingfountain. There is ample evidence of her collusion with them, as I have discussed in great detail with many of you during our interviews. This is treason. There can be no other charge suitable for such crimes.”

Lord Amrein interrupted his pacing and wagged his finger.

“There are, however, many factors to be considered. She testifies that she was under the sway of the Wizrs, controlled by a powerful ring given to her by Rucrius. Without Lady Sinia or Myrddin to confirm or reject her claim, we are flummoxed. Lord Gahalatine took the ring with him to Chandigarl and is seeking answers. But we will likely never have conclusive proof that she was willingly complicit.”

He paused and looked at those assembled. Trynne noticed that Fallon was pale, his fists clenched, his eyes serious. He was emotionally invested in the outcome. While he had testified against Morwenna, openly revealing his knowledge of her actions against king and realm, Trynne had found some of his clothes in a chest under Morwenna’s bed in the poisoner’s tower. How compromised was he?

She told herself it was none of her business. As a married woman, she had no reason to care about Fallon’s romantic life. And yet . . . she did.

Lord Amrein held up his hands. “It’s undeniable that her aid during the battle saved many lives, but it is my opinion as chief justice that we should view her collusion with the enemy, regardless of coercion, in the harshest light. Is it possible that she was a complete pawn of Rucrius? Yes. But the evidence suggests that she was a willing participant.”

An awful feeling of dread came into the room. Trynne squirmed in her seat. She herself felt conflicted about Morwenna. Lord Amrein’s position was not an enviable one.