The Uncrowned King (41 page)

'Well.' It was too much. He had to clear his throat. 'Piro lives. And perhaps Fyn.' Although, now that he thought about it, his brother had never seemed the martial type, despite being trained as a warrior monk. Byren suspected he would have been happier as a scholar. He hoped Fyn had the ruthless streak he'd need to evade Palatyne and Cobalt. 'And Cobalt lives, you say?'

'He did when I left. Palatyne had appointed him his puppet ruler.'

'Not for long, if I have my way.' Byren allowed himself a moment of satisfaction as he imagined confronting Cobalt. But that would not happen unless... 'If only I had a couple of hundred trained men at my back, I could approach the spar warlords. I can't go to them, looking weak.'

'I can bring you those men.' Seela pulled up a stool and sat opposite him, eager as a young girl. 'I brought five likely lads with me when I arrived. I can travel from one end of Rolencia to the other, whispering word of Byren Kingsheir, living in hiding -'

'I can't let you do that. If they catch you...' He shuddered to think what they would do to his old nurse. Neither her gender nor her age would protect her. 'I can't -'

'Byren,' Orrade cut him off. He'd forgotten his friend was still there. Orrade came over and dropped to his haunches beside Byren. 'Seela's right. She knows our people. The Merofynians won't expect a harmless old woman to be preaching rebellion. She can go into Rolenhold, right under their noses, and lead warriors back to us. Back to the camp, the retreat.'

He glanced from his old nurse to his childhood friend. They were ready to risk their lives for him, for the dream of Rolencia free from the Merofynian yoke.

He could not fail them. 'Very well. But don't call this camp a retreat. That makes it sound like we're on the back foot, running away. Call it something more positive, like...'

'The Leogryf's Lair. Garzik would approve of that,' Orrade said. 'And all our people know you as Byren the leogryf slayer. Rolencians can speak of the Leogryf's Lair without arousing Merofynian suspicion.'

'Excellent!' Seela beamed at Orrade. 'I told Myrella you were the smartest of your generation.'

He blushed and Byren grinned, unworried by the comparison. He'd always known he was cleverer than Lence, but not as clever as Orrade.

His friend sprang to his feet. 'Think I'll go check our numbers, see who has arrived. We've already set up a smithy to mend and make weapons.'

When he had gone Seela patted Byren's arm. 'You're a good boy, Byren. Your mother would be proud.'

Unable to speak, he hugged her and went outside. Everyone had gone back to their tasks. Somewhere, not far away, he could hear the dull clunk of a smithy's hammer. They would have to cloak that noise somehow.

He inhaled deeply, smelling onions and pork cooking. His stomach rumbled. At least with Dovecote's cook they would eat well. If they could find enough food.

Byren knew there were no guarantees in life. He might fall on the battlefield and never avenge his father and mother, but today he felt much closer to winning back Rolencia.

One day he would sit in his father's great hall and send an ambassador to Merofynia, to barter for Piro's life. One day, if Halcyon had protected him, he would find Fyn and they would be together again, the last of King Rolen's kin.

Read the final novel in
King Rolen's Kin
, the bestselling fantasy series from Rowena Cory Daniells and Solaris Books!

Now a slave, Piro finds herself in the royal palace of Merofynia, serving her parents' murderer. She must watch every step, for if her real identity is discovered, she will be executed. Fyn is desperate to help his brother, now the uncrowned king of Rolencia. Byren never sought power, but finds himself at the centre of a growing resistance movement as people flee Palatyne's vicious soldiers. Can he hope to repel the invasion with a following of women, children and old men?