furrowed. “That is good to know. What else? What would you do, Sir Ransom?”
“The herald you sent to Ploemeur. Did he tell you anything else? They truly didn’t know where Goff had gone?”
The king gritted his teeth. “What they said and what they knew are two different things. He said they seemed overly nervous, agitated about the summons, as if fearing that their lord was in a place where he ought not to be. I can only assume it was Pree. So what do you say, Ransom? Forget about Goff. What will Bennett do?”
Ransom wanted more time to think on it, but the answer that came to his mind was simple. “He will go wherever you are, my lord. He wants to beat you in subtlety and beat you in battle.”
The king stared at him intently, leaning forward in his throne. “You think he wants to kill me? If that were his aim, surely the poisoner would have carried through Estian’s threat long ago.”
Ransom shook his head no. “My lord, he’ll put you in the tower. He will give the Vexin lands back to his mother. He will strip away members of your council, one by one. Choose your ground. He will come.”
The others were all looking at him. He could feel their scrutiny and see it from the corners of his eyes. But he kept his gaze fixed on the king’s.
“Lady Deborah?” the king asked, still looking at Ransom.
“There is only one course that has not been suggested. Nor do I recommend it. I think Ransom’s counsel is the most prudent. Pick your location. Westmarch, perhaps. You were the duke there, and many of the people are still loyal to you. If you lose to Benedict, demand that you remain as duke. Your son has not made any mistakes so far. Give him time, and he will, and you can step in and exploit them.”
As always, she delivered good advice.
The king inclined his head toward Lady Deborah. “What course has not been suggested? Say it.”
“I would rather not, my lord.”
“Say it, Deborah,” the king said icily.
“Abdication. If you fight him and destroy each other, we all perish. We’ve already lost so many knights. If we keep fighting, we’ll be too weak to defeat King Estian when he rides in to claim what’s left. Abdicate and give Benedict your strength. Give him what you didn’t give the Younger King.”
A look of rage and anger trembled on Devon the Elder’s face. Ransom could see that the strategy made sense. It would keep Ceredigion whole and turn Estian into a rival. But like Lady Deborah, he knew Devon was incapable of doing what Gervase had done. Even Gervase had only decided on that course after losing everything.
“No,” said Lord Ashel angrily. “I’ll not hear of it.”
Ransom glanced at Jon-Landon, whose gaze had sharpened. Lady Deborah had mentioned a maneuver that would overlook him as the possible heir, and the acid in his gaze was unmistakable.
“Be silent, Ashel,” said the king, waving his hand. “That is why I value her input so much. She says what no man among you is brave enough to say. You’ll notice she didn’t suggest this course, merely mentioned it. I can assure you I won’t do it, but I need to see all of the choices before I make a move.” The only sign that he was overwrought was his red, splotchy cheeks. “Like in Wizr, when you make a move, you cannot undo it.”
The door to the audience hall opened, and the king’s steward rushed in, his face pale. He hurried up, bent over, and whispered in the king’s ear.
Devon straightened, his eyes widening with shock. “Bring him in,” he commanded.
Lord Kinghorn steepled his fingers over his mouth and leaned back in his chair. Ransom wondered what had happened, but his suspense was soon lifted as a man entered wearing the livery of Occitania. He was not a knight, just a messenger. His black tunic bore the silver symbols of the fleurs-de-lis. He had doffed his velvet cap, and he came before them and bowed. The gray in his hair showed his age, as did the creases on his cheekbones.
“Well met, herald,” said the king. “I used to know your name. You served King Lewis.”
“My name is Moquet,” said the man in a strong Occitanian accent. “I was chosen because I did, indeed, serve our old king. My lord, I bring evil tidings.”
“I know,” said Devon. “Or you would not have come. Do you have a