In the center of the courtyard was a raised well made of stone and mortar. Owen clambered up onto the edge of it and stared down into the black depths. He could hear a faint gurgling, but it was too deep for him to see the shimmer of water.

The sound of boots coming up behind him warned him that he was no longer alone, and he scuttled back from the edge as Mancini approached, holding a gleaming florin in his hand.

“Ready to make another wish?” the fat man asked with a grin. He offered the coin to the boy, putting Owen in mind of their meeting long ago at Our Lady.

The boy shook his head.

Mancini pursed his lips and nodded knowingly. “I agree. It’s a waste of a good coin. I mean, look at this piece. I could buy several muffins with it and gain an hour’s satisfaction. Or I can plop it down a well shaft and never gain a single thing from it. If wishes were horses, beggars would ride, eh?” Mancini sat on the edge of the well, next to Owen, folding his meaty arms over his chest. He clucked his tongue softly. “Frankly, lad, I don’t see how she can pull this one off. The guards at the gate are letting only Espion pass back out. The baggage continues to arrive, but naught are leaving. Word amongst us is your lord father has ridden down from Tatton Hall with an escort of a hundred men. He’s camped about a league away from the city. Doesn’t look good for him.”

Owen’s twisting nerves grew worse. “I trust her,” he whispered softly.

“Trust is a pretty dish, lad. But this is the king’s trust we are talking about. If I were in Severn’s place, I’d use the Assizes to my advantage to destroy a threat known to me. A dish may be a pretty thing, but it’s easily broken. Even if you fit the pieces back together, it won’t hold a meal. Your father broke the king’s trust at Ambion Hill. Your brother already paid for that with his life. Bets are being waged among the Espion that your father will go into the river tomorrow.” He clapped Owen on the back. “I hate to bear bad news, but I just don’t see how Ankarette can change his mind.”

Anger churning in his heart, Owen gave Mancini a sulky look. “She’s more clever than you, though. She’ll think of a way.”

Mancini snorted. “Well, if she’s slipped into the castle, she won’t be slipping out, I can tell you that.”

“You sound very sure of yourself.” It was Ankarette’s voice, ghosting up to them from the lip of the well. Owen startled, and Mancini had to lurch forward to keep from falling backward into the well in pure surprise.

Owen’s faith in the queen’s poisoner had been vindicated once again. He leaned over the edge of the well, staring down into its dark throat. “Are you down in the well?” he whispered, his voice echoing down the shaft.

“I am,” she replied, her voice kind but tired.

“I can’t see you,” Owen said.

“But I can see you,” she answered. “All is well.”

“I’m beginning to believe in all this Fountain nonsense,” Mancini grumbled nastily, having partially recovered from his shock. “Where are you?”

“There are tunnels honeycombing beneath the castle,” she whispered. “It’s one of the reasons that castle was named Beestone. This is a famous castle, Owen. Or an infamous one. Several kings have started their reign here. Studying the past sometimes helps us make the future. Dominic, have you found what I asked you to find?”

Owen gripped the edge, his heart afire with hope.

The spy frowned distastefully. “Yes, but it’s not good news, Ankarette. It would seem the king means to execute the lad’s family tomorrow. I was just telling him that. The Espion are all betting on it, coins changing hands.”

“Thank you. Yes, it does seem very likely that the king will make an announcement tomorrow. This is the bit of news I needed to confirm. Do you know what time the Assizes will start? When must Kiskaddon arrive before he’s guilty of treason?”

Mancini frowned, his arms folded. “Tenth hour. I heard he’s camped a league away.”

“Dominic, I need you to go to him. I can’t ride that far and be back in time. You must go to Lord Kiskaddon and you must tell him to come to the Assizes tomorrow. He cannot be late.”

“Why would he listen to me?” Mancini said.

“Because I sent you. He will trust you because his wife trusts me. Believe this. You must persuade Owen’s father to come without a retinue. Without arms. He must put himself completely at the king’s mercy.”

Owen shivered.

The incredulous look on Mancini’s face said it all. “Are you serious?”