The King

But how would they get down again? And what about Rejulas's men in the town?

'Set fire to the town. It's wooden, it'll go up like tinder,' Orrade suggested, following the same train of thought. A dismayed mutter arose from the townspeople.

'While the town burns Rejulas's warriors will be too busy escaping with their lives to hunt down the townspeople,' Byren assured them.

Orrade nodded. 'I'll send some men into Doveton to prepare the fires. They can light them the moment the beacon is lit.'

'I'll go,' the chicken keeper offered. 'Take the stable boys with me.'

'What of Lence Kingsheir?' Rifkin piped up. 'He's being kept in the blue chamber.'

Byren felt his first surge of hope. Everyone looked to him. Did they suspect that his twin was a traitor? Why should they?

'I'll deal with Lence,' Byren muttered. If it came to the worst and Lence had betrayed them, he was anxious to save his family shame.

'We can deal with the Merofynian servants,' the cook volunteered. Half a dozen serving girls nodded eagerly. 'Not a warrior amongst them!'

'Good, but quietly,' Byren warned. 'I don't want Palatyne slitting Elina's throat.'

'Goddess forbid!' the cook cried, echoed by others.

Byren smiled. 'Mistress cook, you organise the household staff. Deal with the Merofynian servants then as soon as Palatyne and his lordlings fall asleep, grab food and blankets and lead the townspeople out. Hide in the forest tonight and tomorrow…' Where would they go? '…head into the Divide. That goes for all of you. Don't waste your lives trying to fight the Merofynians. Hide until it is safe to come down.'

They all nodded.

'What of Rejulas?' Garzik asked, rubbing his arms to keep warm. 'He betrayed King Rolen. His life is forfeit. Let me go after him. Winterfall can light the beacon.'

'Rejulas is in the Green Chamber,' the cook volunteered.

'I'll deal with Rejulas,' Byren decided. The last thing he wanted to do was place Elina at risk but his duty was to Rolencia. He fixed on Garzik. 'The beacon is most important. We must alert my father so he can muster Rolencia's defences.'

'What of Elina?' Orrade caught his arm. 'Let me go. I'll slip into Palatyne's chamber, cut his throat and — '

Byren nodded. 'When I give the signal. Once you have her, take her to Sylion Abbey. They'll protect — '

'Not the Divide?' Garzik asked.

Byren shook his head. He didn't know how many of them would reach the dubious safety of the Divide or how long they would be living like savages in the high country.

'If you think Elina will run from a fight you don't know her,' Garzik muttered.

He knew her. The problem was he loved her. 'Time to get moving.'

'Right.' The cook gathered her people and left.

As the last of the women filed out Byren caught Winterfall's shoulder. 'Watch over the young ones.' He didn't mention Garzik by name, didn't want to shame him. 'This won't be like weapons drill. Afterwards meet me at the water-wheel.'

Winterfall nodded then led the youths and the honour guard away. Byren watched them leave with their makeshift weapons, wishing he did not have to send them on this task.

As soon as they were alone Orrade turned to Byren, face grim. 'I'm coming with you when you confront Lence.'

Chapter Thirty

Byren grimaced. 'You think I'm too soft, Orrie?'

'I think you're too good-hearted. And I'm not convinced Lence is Rejulas's captive.'

This was what Byren feared. 'You saw the trick Cobalt pulled, presenting those rings and the poem to blacken my name — '

'I saw. But ask yourself this, why is Lence so ready to believe what Cobalt tells him?'

Byren shook his head. 'If I can just explain — '

'Here.' Orrade radiated an intensity of purpose as he unfastened the borrowed sword. His breath plumed in the cold-cellar's chilly air.

'No.' Byren didn't want to leave Orrade unarmed. 'What will you — '

Orrade held up the Old Dove's sword, the one Byren had seen fall on the floor near Palatyne's chair. 'Rifkin retrieved it for me. Come on, I want to get this over with so we can save Elina before…'

He did not bother to finish but headed for the door. Byren caught his arm.

'What?'

In that instant Byren saw the consequences of going for Elina now. Palatyne would put up a fight which would alert his warriors. In no time at all the place would be swarming with armed men. The townspeople and Dovecote's servants would not get away. Winterfall wouldn't have time to light the warning beacon. His followers would be captured. They'd all be executed. There was no alternative. 'We can't save Elina yet. We don't want to trigger the alarm.'

'But Palatyne will…' Orrade shuddered. 'I can't let that happen.'

Byren couldn't stop the thought of Elina's slender body trapped under Palatyne's. A flash of rage ignited him. He repressed it, driving it down deep inside. 'No, Orrie, we — '

'What of Elina?'

Yes, Elina… Byren's stomach churned. He forced himself to ignore it and go on. 'Elina's the Old Dove's daughter. As long as we get her out of here, she will understand.'

Orrade cursed, tore his arm free and shoved past.

Byren caught him by the jerkin, swung him up against the door and pressed his forearm to his throat. Orrade gasped, fingers prying at Byren's arm.

'She's m'sister!' he ground out.

'And I love her!'

'It's not right!'

Frustration swept through Byren. The gods knew, he would give his own life for Elina's if he had to. 'Would you let your own people down to save Elina? She wouldn't thank you.'

He gave Orrade a moment to digest this.

'I don't like it any better than you,' Byren admitted. 'But this is the right thing to do. I know it is.'

Even as the words left his mouth, he recalled the old seer's seemingly senseless babble about right being a matter of perception. Shocked, he released Orrade and stepped back. Who was he to say what was right? He shivered.

Orrade stared, as if he had never seen him before.

'Very well,' Byren told him. 'Do what you think is right.'

Orrade straightened his jerkin and went to grab the door latch. He hesitated, the struggle clear on his face. He agonised until, finally, the fight went out of him. 'Sylion take you, Byren!'

'May Sylion take Palatyne into his cold embrace,' Byren whispered. 'I'll see him dead before dawn.'

'That's no comfort for what Elina's going through,' Orrade snapped and again his hand went to the latch, but he stopped himself.

Unable to sit still, Byren paced. It was too cold to sit.

Palatyne was right, this was agony. No matter what his logical mind told him, he couldn't stop his imagination.

He caught Orrade studying him. 'What?'

His friend's smile held a great deal of anger mingled with admiration. 'I was wrong. You are strong enough to make the hard decisions.'

Byren said nothing. Was he as hard as his father, Rolen the Implacable? He would not have thought it. He never wanted to have to make this kind of decision again. Elina might understand, but would she ever forgive him?

Curse Palatyne. Curse his pet Power-workers.

That reminded him of his experiences playing Duelling Kingdoms. 'Be on your guard, Orrie, Palatyne has two renegade Power-workers with him, a barbaric Utlander and a noble called Dunstany. They may sense your Affinity and try to use it against us.'

'You knew?' Orrade stared at him. 'How long — '

Byren shrugged. 'I suspected almost from the start.'

Orrade sank onto a barrel, his shoulders hunched. 'At first I thought I was imagining it. But then it began to add up. I had a vision of a manticore with Cobalt's head before we were attacked by them, but it was so bizarre I thought I must be going mad. If I hadn't refused to believe it, I could have warned you. I should have warned you about Rejulas.' He lifted a tortured face to Byren. 'While we were hiding in the barn at Narrowneck I had a nightmare… a cockatrice entered the yard and spat poison at the barn door, setting it alight. I refused to admit — '