Duke Severn was down to his last hundred men, if that. His army was surrounded, and she thought she could spy the old king in the thickest part of the fighting. He had no horse. None of them did.

Severn was trying to stem the tidal flood by himself and she thought she knew why. Before the Battle of Guilme, her father had confronted him about the men in silver masks—the Mandaryn, she now realized—who had been infiltrating Glosstyr. Surely Gahalatine had determined that this was a weak point of the realm. But Severn would not have it said that his duchy had been won through treachery. He would rather die than be remembered as a traitor.

“By the Fountain,” King Drew said hoarsely as his stallion rested next to hers, panting and lathered from the hard ride. “We’ve come too late. Too late!” There was a hard anger in his voice.

Trynne examined the battlefield. Even with the troops they’d brought, there were not enough of them to stem the advance. What would her father do in this situation?

She stared down at the fierce fighting, at the men of the White Boar surrounded by their enemies. Should they abandon their countrymen to their fate?

The thought struck her forcibly. No. The men had held their ground against impossible odds. Their king had come to rescue them. And even if they could not drive away Gahalatine’s forces, they could save the wounded survivors. She knew what her father would have done. He would have ridden down there to rescue Severn himself.

“My lord,” Trynne said, her voice choked with emotion. “By your leave, let me take my maidens into the fray. Raise your banners and wear the crown, and hold aloft your sword. Have the soldiers make a clamor on their shields. They do not know how many soldiers we have brought. Let’s give them a fright.”

Drew stared at her in surprise and then a grin brightened his face. “A deception.”

“A ruse, my lord,” she said, nodding. “It may not work.”

“But then again, it just may,” the king said, full of confidence. “Take your maidens. Go!”

Trynne nodded and quickly rode up to Captain Staeli. “Protect the king. I’m taking the maidens into battle.”

His expression told her what she already knew—her plan was risky, no, insane—but he was a soldier first and foremost. He obeyed. The look he gave her was full of worry. “Don’t be rash, lass. That’s all I will say.”

She gave him a crooked smile. “Are you worried about me, Captain?”

“Aye,” he answered like gravel. “And always will be.”