The Thief's Daughter (19 page)

“I
am
thinking of it,” Iago said with a hint of displeasure. “Eyric would be beholden to me, not me to Severn.”

She shook her head. “You don’t understand me. You stand something to gain if Eyric wins. But you risk even more if he loses.”

Iago chuffed. “I risk nothing. The gain is all to my benefit.”

“Not at all. You risk losing your life. Your crown. You have no wife. You have no child. If Severn comes to fight you, and he
will
if you continue to support this upstart, he will make Atabyrion his next conquest. He won’t accept you as a vassal. You’ll be destroyed, and someone else will be put in your place.”

“You’re threatening me?” he chuckled, almost amused.

“No, I’m warning you. You simply do not understand my king. He and my grandfather defeated Atabyrion before. They will do it again.”

“That was my
father
,” Iago drawled angrily. “Not me.”

“And you are wiser and more experienced than your father was? Can you afford to wage war on Ceredigion? I’ll say it again. Think what you are risking.”

Iago shook his head. “I never do that. If I lived my life that way, I’d never step foot out of doors. We’re sitting here on this stone because I’m
not
afraid of falling into the river. I think about what I might
gain
, not what I stand to
lose
. I’ve asked for an alliance with Ceredigion before, and Severn spited me. So I will treat with someone more amenable.”

“What did you ask for?” Evie pressed.

“A marriage alliance. That is how you bind fates together. I wished to wed Princess Elyse. You can see I gave Eyric the girl he wanted. He had to have Kathryn the moment he laid eyes on her. I don’t blame him!” he added with a dark chuckle. “And Eyric will give me Elyse. Even you must see the advantage in that! You’re a clever girl, after all. And you know Severn will never grant me what I want.”

Evie screwed up her nose a bit. Owen could see from the look in her eye that she was thinking very hard.

Don’t say it
, he thought.
Don’t say it!

Evie sat up straighter. “King Severn understands your situation. And he is prepared to enter into an alliance with you. A marriage alliance.”

Iago leaned forward, eager. Their hands were almost touching, a sight that made Owen clench his teeth with fury.

“Not the princess? Oh, I see. I understand now. That’s why he sent
you
.” He leaned back, the realization flooding him with new ideas. New opportunities. Severn had baited the hook and dangled it now.

“I don’t feel well,” Clark muttered, his voice sounding queasy.

Owen glanced over and saw sweat streaking down Clark’s face. He looked to be on the verge of vomiting.

“Maybe we should go back to the horses,” Justine suggested. “I don’t feel well either.”

“What did you eat?” Owen asked the Espion, awareness striking him as sharp as an arrow shaft.

Clark’s stomach clenched and he quickly rose, knowing now he was in peril. Owen saw the dizziness in his eyes, the unsteady shuffle of his boots.

And then Clark started to totter backward off the rock as Justine screamed.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The Thief’s Daughter

Owen shot out his hand and snatched at Clark’s tunic before he could fall into the river. The Espion windmilled his arms, his face turning white with terror. Owen felt his own balance shifting and tried to dig the edges of his boots into the rock to steady himself. Then Justine grabbed Owen’s shoulders, saving them both.

It was a heart-stopping moment. And the danger was far from over. Clark was always sure-footed and steady, but there was a feverish, pained look in his eyes. He had been poisoned; Owen felt sure of it, and from the look in Clark’s eye, he knew it too.

“What happened?” Evie cried out, already on her feet.

Clark was safely back on the rock, but his body was swaying. Sweat dribbled from his pores.

“I’m sick too,” Justine complained, her eyes darting back and forth as she gripped her stomach.

The Espion grabbed Owen’s shoulder, his fingers digging in hard. “You saved my life,” he whispered hoarsely.

“I haven’t yet,” Owen said with worry, realizing the dangerous predicament they were in. If Iago had ordered them poisoned, they were not safe in his hands or at his court. A spasm jolted through Clark and his knees buckled. Owen put an arm around Clark’s shoulder to hold his weight, but he did not dare take his eyes off Evie as she climbed up to the higher rock to join them.

Justine choked back tears, her face full of misery at the sight of Clark’s suffering. She was milk white herself, shivering as if they were in a winter storm.

“We need some help down here!” Owen shouted to the servants looking down from above. He shifted to his back to take more of Clark’s weight and helped him climb up the next rock. The sound of the falls and the river was an ever-present reminder of what would happen if they fell. Some of the nimbler servants hurried down and helped by grabbing Clark’s arms and hauling him up the side of the cliff. Owen turned back and extended a hand to Justine. Her palms were sweating, so he grabbed her by the wrist instead. She suddenly slumped, her eyes rolling back in her head, but he caught her around the waist before she fell.

“Justine!” Evie cried in terror and rushed forward to help, but Iago held her arm.

“You’ll fall! He’s got her!” the king said. Then he shouted, “Don’t just stand there, oafs! Help him!”

Owen ducked under Justine and hoisted her up onto his shoulders, then climbed up to the next rock, where several servants met him, ready to take the load. Clark had already been carried up the trail, and as soon as he passed Justine off to the others, Owen rushed over to him. The servants had settled Clark down on the brush, and Etayne was already kneeling next to him, her ear on his chest. Moments later, Justine was laid down beside the other patient.

Owen’s chest felt like a beehive that had been caved in. His emotions were swarming.

“They’ve been poisoned,” Owen whispered to Etayne. His gaze was already assessing the servants, looking for an expression of guilt. The poisoner
must
be among them, he deduced. He probably wasn’t the one who had thrown them the saddlebag, but he had intercepted it first. One of these men had tried to kill them. But which one?

He saw Iago helping Evie up to the trail, his hands gripping her waist, and he had to smother the rage that burned inside his heart.

“His lips are blue,” Etayne muttered worriedly. She stuck her fingers into Clark’s mouth, then turned his head to the side as he messily expelled everything he’d eaten.

“Get the bag of food he ate from,” Etayne whispered to him. She hurried over to Justine and repeated the maneuver, making another mess. The servants backed away in disgust. Evie shoved Iago away and rushed to the side of her maid, her eyes glistening with tears of worry. Owen had a hand on his sword hilt as he approached the edge of the cliff.

Iago saw him coming and his eyes widened with fear. “I had nothing to do with this. I swear by the Fountain! For all I know, that lunch was meant for us.” His face was twisted with worry and anger, which added credence to his tale. “Fetch my surgeon!” he called out to one of his knights. “I know it’s bloody far! Start riding now!”

“Where’s the saddlebag?” Owen said, and then saw it down on the rocks.

“I’ll send someone down to fetch it. Toal! Down and fetch it. Now!” Iago snapped.

Owen turned back to the crowd gathering around the victims, his insides suddenly turning to ice. He realized that Iago had inadvertently saved his life. If Owen hadn’t been so upset watching him and Evie, he would have eaten from the saddlebag as well. Then all three of them would have been sickened.

The king joined the crowd around the bodies and laid a hand on Evie’s shoulder. “I don’t know who did this,” he said in a low voice. “But I will find and punish him. I promise you that. No one besmirches my honor this way. You are here under my safe conduct. I’ll flay the man when I find out who it was!”

Owen didn’t care for the promises of vengeance. But Iago’s reaction was exactly what he would expect from someone who was innocent. Justine and Clark were convulsing violently now. Their skin looked ashen, their lips blue. He stared at Etayne in wild despair and knelt down beside her.

Her eyes were focused and serious as she met his gaze. “I need my supplies,” she whispered to Owen. “We’ve got to get them back to Edonburick.”

“Then we ride at once!” Evie commanded, her voice shaking.

Owen’s frown felt as if it would be fixed on his face always. He stared down at Justine in her sickbed. Her cheeks were so waxy and pale she looked like a corpse, an effect that was only increased by the purple bruises under her eyes. Her lips were white, slightly parted, and her breaths were so far apart that she appeared for all purposes to be dead. Clark was in the next bed, his body still trembling as it fought off the poison trying to kill him.

Etayne was slumped in a chair between the two patients, looking weary and stern. Evie sat at Justine’s side, stroking her hand.

“Do you think she will live?” Evie whispered to Etayne. “Tell me the truth.”

Etayne stretched her arms and sighed. “I don’t know, my lady. I’ve done all I can. I gave them both the antidote, but the poison was in their system for a long while. Her constitution isn’t as hardy at Clark’s. I think he’ll make it.” She reached over and took a cool cloth from the array of supplies on the small dresser. “Even asleep, he’s still fighting,” she said as she wiped his forehead.

Owen put his hand on Evie’s shoulder to comfort her, and she turned into his abdomen and started weeping. He smoothed her hair, his throat tight. Justine had been their companion for years. She was like a sister to him, not a servant. It was not fair that she should suffer.

It was nearly midnight. The physicians and midwives of Iago had done their best to help, but it was Etayne’s quick thinking and knowledge of poisons that had helped her identify which one had been used. There was no one else in the room with them. Iago had come several times to express his anger and sympathy, but Evie had no wish to talk to him or to accept his condolences yet.

Evie’s tears started to ease as Owen rubbed her back, and after a while, she stifled a yawn.

“There is little else you can do, my lady,” Etayne said to Evie. “Maybe if you were to lie down next to her and hold her? Help keep her warm?”

Evie nodded enthusiastically and quickly slipped onto the bed behind Justine, wrapping her arms around the pale, sick girl. Etayne rose from her chair and walked over to the open window, where she rested her elbows on the sill and stared into the night sky. The rushing sound of the falls in the distance reminded Owen of home.

Evie’s eyelids started to grow heavy as she stroked Justine’s hair, and before too long, she gave into the exhaustion of the day and fell asleep. Owen walked slowly over to Clark, who was still shivering and jolting beneath his mound of blankets. Though he was not inclined to climb into bed and snuggle with his friend, he was pleased to see the Espion’s cheeks looked ruddier.

He then went back and bent over Evie, soaking in the sight of her chest rising and falling regularly, feeling tenderness and gratitude that she hadn’t been harmed. He bent low enough to kiss the hair at her temple, grazing it lightly with his mouth, and then pulled away and walked over to the window. Etayne was still staring into the night sky.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.

She glanced at him, flushing a little at the compliment. “I might not have saved either of them,” she said. “Save your thanks until morning.”

He shook his head. “You did your best, Etayne. You knew what to do. That’s why I’m thanking you. If you hadn’t been there, I would have watched both of them strangle and die by the falls. At least now they have a chance.”

She shrugged a little, turning back to face the open window. The moon was a thin sliver of light, just over a nest of trees. Then she turned to him. “It’s going to be a long night, Lord Owen. Would you teach me a little about the magic? Can you show me how to use it?”

He was tired and weary, but he did not want to leave her awake all alone. Perhaps it was no coincidence that it was so late at night. After all, Ankarette had given him his first lessons in Fountain magic in the dark.

“I will try,” he said wearily. “I’m not a very good teacher. The place we should begin is figuring out how you can fill your cup. Without that, you can’t use the magic at all.”

“Filling a cup,” she said with a nod, listening to his every word with great interest.

“For me, it started when I was a little boy. I saw my brother stacking tiles in a row and then knocking them down. It utterly fascinated me and I began to mimic what he did. I could stack tiles for hours, every day. It was never a burden or a chore. I loved it.” He chuckled. “I still do. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve found some of the same satisfaction from playing Wizr or reading. It’s about strategy, I suppose. Plotting what will happen in advance. That is what gives me power with the Fountain. To know your power, Etayne, you must know your passion. Is there something you have always been fond of? Some work that isn’t a chore or a trouble?”

“I have been giving this some thought since our talk on the ship, and I think I may have figured it out.” But she looked abashed, as if she did not wish to speak the words out loud.

“What?” he asked carefully.

“I think you’ll laugh,” she said.

“Why? Is it strange?”

“I hate when people laugh at me,” she said seriously.

“Then I won’t. Tell me.” He said it coaxingly, trying to put her fears at rest.

“I’ve always loved trying on clothes,” she said hesitantly.

He wrinkled his brow and waited for her to say more, curious.

“You
didn’t
laugh,” she said, pleased. “I know it sounds ridiculous. When I was little, I used to pretend to be other people. I loved to put on different dresses. I’d imagine I was a baker’s wife. Or a chandler’s girl. An alderman’s daughter. As I got older, I began to wish for more. My favorite was to pretend I was an
earl’s
daughter.” She looked down, flushing. “I’ve always taken a secret delight in studying people. How they walk. How they move. How they speak. I would practice playing a role in front of my little sister and my friends, and force them to treat me like I was something more than what I truly was—a thief’s daughter.”

Her mask fell away as she said those words, revealing her true self. Without the disguise, he could see years of bitterness and resentment, years of abuse and worry. Years of yearning to be someone important, to hide the shame of her past. Her confidence was gone, replaced by a look of self-loathing and contempt.

“How did you come to join the Espion?” he asked her softly.

Her lips pressed hard together. “My father,” she said in a low, angry voice. Then she sighed. “I can’t believe I’m telling you all this. No one ever asks about my story. They only want me to
do
something for them.” She glanced at him. “Except for you. My father is one of those fountain-men at the sanctuary of Our Lady. I grew up with my mother and sister in a hovel outside the sanctuary, but my father had to stay there during the day for fear of the law. He used me to cheat people. He’d dress me up in fine gowns he’d stolen. He taught me how to watch the nobles, to act like them. All so I could steal from them. I even stole coins from the fountain. When I was twelve, I was caught by the Espion. They took me to Mancini.” She frowned at the memory, her eyes guarded. “He offered me a chance to join them. He needed someone young, someone he could teach. Someone he could mold. Well, it was that or go into the river! To ensure my father and everyone else I knew would believe I was dead, Mancini shoved another body into the river. Then he sent me to Pisan.” She shuddered at the word, her eyes blinking rapidly. After a moment, she collected herself again. “So you see, Master Owen, I’m more of a pretender than Eyric is.” She sniffed, and then looked him in the eye. “I suspect that you are
pretending
as well.”