The King's Bastard (48 page)

A dozen birds took to the air from behind a copse of white-cloaked evergreens. The birds' raucous cries echoed in the sudden silence. Lence glanced that way. 'Someone's coming. Go home by the horse trail.'

With that he turned his mount and galloped off.

Byren ran to the trees, seeking cover. The soft rhythm of the horse's hooves faded as he peered around a snow-crusted branch. Picking their way along the bank of the frozen stream, Piro and Garzik rode towards him. He came out of hiding, signalling to them.

Piro waved and cantered her mount around to meet him.

'Was that Lence?' she asked as she arrived.

He nodded.

'What did he want?'

'Elina sent him.'

'Oh.' Piro sat back in her saddle.

Garzik looked away, not wanting to share his disappointment.

Byren noticed their travelling bags tied to the saddles. 'Leaving already?'

'Elina threw me out.' Piro gave an unsteady laugh.

'And I've been disinherited,' Garzik said.

'What?'

'Well, I told father to make Elina his heir, so it amounts to the same thing,' Garzik admitted.

'Why?'

'He was belittling you and Orrade. I... I lost my temper.'

'Lence knows, Byren,' Piro warned.

'I know he knows.' Byren turned towards his hidden horse.

'Will he tell father?' Piro asked.

In the midst of mounting up, Byren paused, then continued to swing his leg over the horse's back. 'He'll tell father all right. Tell him the Servants of Palos are planning to put me on the throne!'

'But there are no Servants of Palos, just Orrade -'

'And his attachment to a romantic myth,' Byren muttered. And suddenly he was able to forgive Orrade his foolish faith in Palos. Everyone needed a hero. A weight he hadn't really been aware of lifted from him as he spurred his horse towards their camp.

Piro took a few moments to catch up. 'Don't worry, Byren, father won't believe it.'

He pulled on the reins, slowing his horse, and twisted in the saddle to face her. 'Thirty years ago father purged Rolencia of the Servants of Palos. Noble and servant alike, they all went under the axe or dangled from the hangman's noose. Do you think he'll be any more lenient this time?'

'But Byren, there is no secret society. So you're safe.'

He thought of Lence's refusal to believe him. 'If it isn't there, how can I prove it doesn't exist?'

Piro's eyes widened and she fell silent.

Byren rode on, frustration and anger warring within him. When Lence returned to Rolenhold, Byren would lose his family and his place in the world, based on an accusation he could not disprove.

What could he do?

Piro watched distractedly as Byren and Orrade broke camp. When they were done, Orrade swung his leg over his mount and waited to bring up the rear, while Byren led them towards the trail to Rolenton.

That reminded her. 'Wait, Byren. Lence said he saw the spoor of a manticore pride on the horse trail. We should travel by canal.'

'Eh, you've got it wrong, Piro. He said the manticores were on the canal.'

She frowned. 'No. I'm sure -'

'You must have misheard him, Piro, because you'd expect manticores to be in the forest, not the canals.'

'Either way. We don't want to run into a manticore pride,' Orrade muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as if his head ached. 'They'll be ravenous from their winter sleep and each female is sure to have two or more cubs. They'll be hunting to feed them as well.'

Piro nodded. 'But I'm sure Lence said the horse trail wasn't safe.'

'Slip of the tongue,' Byren decided. 'I know what he told me.'

With that, he turned his horse towards the trail.

Piro debated arguing further but now she was beginning to doubt her own memory. They were much more likely to find the manticores on the horse trail, fresh from their den in the Divide, rather than down along the canal. So she fell into place riding behind Garzik, with Orrade bringing up the rear.

Fyn stiffened, drawing closer to Feldspar as Galestorm and Beartooth rounded the corner. His friend's soft gasp of fear sounded loud in his ear. They were in the hall to the mystics' store room, a place rarely visited by anyone but mystics, so Galestorm and Beartooth must have deliberately sought them out. Fyn cursed under his breath, for the monk who was supposed to watch over them had delayed to gossip with a friend. He would catch up in a moment, but by then it might be too late.

'Fyn, Feldspar,' Galestorm greeted them, malicious eyes bright with an excitement that filled Fyn with foreboding. 'I was so sorry to hear about the loss of your friend. I have been meaning to offer my personal condolences.'

Fury filled Fyn's chest, nearly choking him.

'It is a very sad loss,' he managed to say, then couldn't help adding, 'one that could have been avoided.'

Beartooth smirked. Fyn wanted to punch him.

'A misstep on the stairs. A simple accident,' Galestorm shrugged. 'So unfortunate.'

'We must all take care.' Fyn heard himself as if someone else was speaking. 'None of us are above taking a careless step.'

Galestorm's eyes widened, then narrowed.

'Even kingsons can -' Beartooth growled.

But Galestorm cut him off, stepping closer, his voice dropping. 'You think you're safe, Fyn Kingson. Sure, you've got friends in high places. But friends come and go.'

'Not these friends. They will remain true,' Fyn said.

'Ah, but some of them are old and the old must make way for the young. One day Master Firefox will be abbot and then, who will you turn -'

'Not if Master Catillum is made abbot,' Feldspar protested.

Galestorm sent him a pitying look. 'Other than Master Oakstand, Catillum's supporters are all from the abbot's generation. When they die and take their place in Halcyon's Sacred Heart, who will back a crippled mystic?'

Feldspar swallowed audibly.

Galestorm smiled and nudged Beartooth. They passed by, Beartooth deliberately thumping his shoulder into Fyn's. When they rounded the bend, Fyn felt Feldspar sag against him. He discovered he'd been holding his breath and let it out in a rush. Sparks danced in front of his eyes and he had to take several breaths to clear his vision.

Feldspar sent him a worried look.

'Don't fret,' Fyn said. 'If Galestorm could strike at us, he would have by now. He's just blustering.'

'I hope you're right.'

Fyn hoped so too.

Byren finished his lunch and stood up, dusting crumbs from his hands. Piro and Garzik moved off to remount. He noticed Orrade rubbing his eyes, a frown drawing his straight black brows together. 'What's wrong, Orrie?'

'Oh, nothing,' he muttered, then seemed to think better of it. 'It's just these grey spots are coming back.' He blinked several times as if trying to clear his vision.

'Headache?' Byren asked, dreading the answer.

Orrade went as if to deny it, then admitted, 'It's been coming on since last night.'

'Ready?' Piro asked, having mounted up and urged her horse over to join them.

'Garza, you lead,' Byren called. 'I'll bring up the rear.'

Orrade opened his mouth to object, then shrugged.

'Not far to the first campsite, Garza knows the way,' Byren said.

They headed off. Riding in the rear meant Byren could watch Orrade's back. Was his friend suffering a relapse of the blindness or was his newly aroused Affinity trying to surface? Last time, Orrade had warned them about the raiders. What would it be this time? Manticores? Maybe Affinity beasts triggered his gift? No... the amfina hadn't.

'Eh, Orrie,' Byren called softly. 'Why didn't you warn me about the amfina before it attacked?'

Orrade glanced over his shoulder, his face pale, expression distracted. 'How could I, when I hadn't seen its tracks?'

And it obviously hadn't aroused his Affinity. So, Byren wondered, why was Orrade suffering similar symptoms to the ones that brought on his warning about the raiders? According to the tales, some people with Affinity could look into a person's heart and see if they were of evil intent. Certainly the amfina intended no evil. It was merely doing what beasts do, while the raiders knew they were crossing Rolencia to attack a peaceful village.

'Any trouble up ahead, Orrie?' Byren asked softly.

'See any trouble? I can't even see past my horse's ears,' Orrade muttered.

Byren chewed over this answer. It was clear Orrade's sight was fading again, and either he was unaware of his new-found Affinity or he was denying it to himself. Best to be on the lookout. The sooner they returned to Rolenhold the better.

Garzik was a brave lad but inexperienced. Like Piro, he could get himself into trouble. And if Orrade became worse Byren would have to lead his horse. Even now his friend swayed in the saddle, shoulders hunched in pain.

'Not far now, Orrie,' Byren said gently.

He didn't answer.

From then on Byren remained alert, watching for an attack or any deterioration in Orrade's state.

By the time they reached their usual camp, however, Orrade's colour was better and he helped to build the snow-cave. Garzik saw to the horses, with Piro's help. Soon they were snug in their snow-cave heating dinner over the brazier.

While Garzik and Piro bickered over the best kind of food to pack for winter travelling, Byren passed the reheated meat to Orrade. 'How's the headache, Orrie?'

'Nearly gone.'

'Spots?'

'Fading, thank the goddess.' Orrade tucked into his stew.

Byren decided it must have been a physical problem, after all.

'Eh, no visions, then?' he prodded, just to be sure.

Orrade cast him a swift, slightly startled look.

'Just kidding,' Byren muttered. If his guess was wrong, then there was no point in worrying Orrade. Still, he vowed to sleep lightly.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Byren woke to screaming horses. Forgetting where he was, he rolled to his feet, driving his head and shoulders through the roof of their snow-cave. It collapsed on the others. Snow muffled their confused cries and the brazier hissed like a trapped beast.

He leapt over Piro's snow-shrouded form, ploughing towards the horses. It was a cloudy night and the stars were hidden, but he knew the layout around their camp. A horse shrilled, then went ominously quiet. The others squealed, their hooves drumming on the ground as they tore at their pickets. He could imagine the scene from the sounds. As for the predator, he guessed it was a big one or a pack desperate and bold enough to attack their camp.

Manticores? He dreaded finding out.

He shouldn't charge in alone.

Behind him he could hear Orrade organising Garzik and Piro to protect each other. A glow of flames illuminated the night as Orrade lit torches.

'What is it?' Orrade asked, coming up behind Byren and handing him a burning brand.

'Watch my back.' Byren forged through the branches they'd stacked to form a windbreak for the horses. None of their mounts remained, only the churned snow where they had reared and fought for their lives.

Byren sniffed the air, recognising the scent. 'God-touched beasts.'

'Manticores,' Orrade confirmed.

Byren's stomach clenched. Had Piro been right? Had he misheard Lence's warning and led them into trouble?

He scouted the clearing, studying the tracks in the snow, confirming that it was a pride of manticores. 'One large male. Two females and at least five half-grown cubs from last spring.' A large pride. He indicated blood-smeared trails in the compressed snow. 'This is where they dragged the unlucky horse off. The wind has dropped. Our mounts must have caught their scent and been able to avoid their first strike.' Manticores preferred not to expend too much energy hunting. Ideally, they liked to creep up on their prey, paralyse it with the poison barb on the end of their chitinous tails then drag the body somewhere to devour it in safety.

'Let's get back. We've a long walk ahead of us tomorrow,' Orrade said.

Byren nodded. The other three horses would be running through the forest, safe enough since the manticores would glut themselves on their prey. But one kill between three adults and five juveniles was not enough to sustain the pride.

'They'll come back for us,' Byren whispered.

'Tomorrow night,' Orrade agreed.

'Are you all right?' Piro called as she ran up to join them. 'What happened?'

'Fine,' Byren told her, seeing Garzik in the clearing behind her. The boy lifted his hands helplessly as if to say, I couldn't stop her. 'Orrie told you to stay with Garzik, Piro. Next time do what you're told. We've lost the horses. Manticores -'

'The pride Lence warned us about?'

He shrugged. There were plenty of them up on the Divide, more on the other side on the spars than on Rolencia's borders. It was rare for them to come down this far into the valley. 'They must have woken early this spring. I wonder if there's another new seep. That could've disturbed their winter sleep. At any rate, they're here and they're hungry.'