The Brythonicans would not give up their daughter without a fight. More soldiers came forward to defend Trynne, who was momentarily stunned—she’d never done battle with one Wizr before, let alone three—and uncertain what to do. Rucrius extended his palm at the aging marshal, who suddenly froze, unable to swing his sword. He stood there, his muscles bulging, his eyes wide with terror as he was forced to hold his sword suspended over his head, unmoving.

Rucrius smirked at the older man as he passed him, closing the gap to Trynne even as more soldiers continued to charge at him. She could not believe this was happening. Then she saw Benjamin rush into the room, holding her twin swords.

“Enough of this foolishness!” Rucrius snapped impatiently. He brought his staff down on the tiles hard and the floor jolted. A huge crack split the floor from one end of the hall to the other, and the earth bucked, knocking everyone to the ground except for Trynne and the three Wizrs. She felt the magic from the earthquake, but it passed around her harmlessly.

Benjamin had fallen with the rest, stunned by the display of magic. But even though he’d tumbled down to the floor, he shoved one of her swords toward her, sending it skidding across the tile. The sight of her weapon jarred her back to her senses. She reached down to grab it.

“Please, Lady Tryneowy,” Rucrius said with an ungracious smile. “Have the grace to accept your defeat. You are Fountain-blessed, and my lord and master Gahalatine sent me to escort you to his capital. He desires to meet you. Your people will not be harmed if you submit to us now. Already our fleet is nearing the shore. Unless I give the proper sign to halt them, they will commence their attack, and many will needlessly perish. Brythonica has always been the weakest of the duchies of Ceredigion. Now I ask you, plainly, to set down that sword and accept your fate. Perhaps Gahalatine will choose you as his consort? Though I think he may prefer someone else.” He gave her an oily smile, staring at the left side of her face in a manner that made his meaning all too clear.

“I will not surrender my duchy,” Trynne said, her voice trembling with passion. “And our people and my king will fight Gahalatine’s aggression.”

Rucrius snorted. “Your king is being attacked in four places at once, young lady,” he said. “You cannot flee from me by the ley lines, and you lack a Tay al-Ard to travel without them. I commend your bravery, my lady, but do not be a simpleton. I will take you to the Forbidden Court by force if I must.” He gave her a mocking bow. “You won’t be the first who came unwillingly.”