Byren peered around the lintel to the right. Lit by a single lamp, two warriors stood at the entrance to the blue chamber, giving substance to the fiction that Lence was a captive. If it was fiction.
The cook was right, one guard wore the amfina surcoat and the other, the cockatrice cloak.
Byren made a soft noise in his throat. Both warriors stiffened. He made the same noise again. They looked at each other. Finally Rejulas's man headed towards the dark stair well, his boots making soft thuds on the polished wood.
Orrade waited, knife ready. Byren pinned the man's arms as soon as he stepped into the stair well, covering his mouth. Orrade drove the knife up under his ribs, straight into his heart. Byren eased the body to the floor, even as the life left him.
They waited. But Palatyne's man was not going to risk his life to investigate the Cockatrice warrior's fate. Instead, he moved towards the overlord's door, passing on the far side of the dark stairwell opening.
Byren lifted his knife, aimed and threw. The man had time only to register surprise before the knife took him in the throat. Though Byren darted out across the hall to catch him, he hit the floor with a soft thud.
Byren retrieved his knife, wiped it and hurried to the door of the blue chamber. Orrade did not follow.
He glanced over his shoulder to see his friend standing in the hall, torn.
'Go, save her,' Byren whispered. Elina would think he had failed her again, but he had to see Lence.
Orrade's expression cleared. 'Don't be misled by Lence's lies. I believe he's already tried to kill you once.'
Had he? Byren wondered. Or had it been a slip of the tongue? After all, how could Cobalt have led the manticores to their camp, when it was almost certain he had no Affinity?
Byren thrust the door open.
Lence turned, shielding a flickering candle. He stood unarmed.
'Byren?' His gaze flicked to the naked sword blade and back to his face. 'You're free.'
Byren's shoulders relaxed and his sword tip dipped a fraction. 'Lence, you mustn't believe the things Cobalt said. I haven't betrayed you. The rings were for mother and father's Jubilee. The poem was for Elina, not Orrie.'
His twin shrugged. 'He said you'd say that.'
Byren closed his eyes in frustration.
A mistake. When he opened them Lence had snatched the poker from the fire place. The end glowed menacingly as he raised it between them.
'If you'd only listen, Lence,' Byren pleaded.
His twin's gaze flickered behind Byren. A floor board creaked.
Byren spun just in time to side-step Rejulas's attempt to run him through.
Something hard struck the back of Byren's head, making him stagger and drop to one knee. Lence had hit him? He couldn't believe it.
Rejulas turned his blade, swinging it for Byren's throat. Byren fumbled as he lifted his sword to deflect the strike.
'No!' Lence diverted the stroke so that the blade sang as it slid down the length of the poker.
'Why not?' Rejulas snarled.
Byren lurched to his feet, backing away until the fireplace was behind him. His sword came up between them. Rejulas was his enemy but Lence had saved his life. Why?
'Thought better of it. Can't risk giving the alarm,' Orrade said as he padded into the chamber. On seeing Byren's predicament he froze, weapon ready.
'Shut the door,' Lence ordered. 'We don't want those Merofynian lordlings overhearing.'
Byren's heart soared with hope.
Rejulas cursed softly as Orrade closed the door.
'Byren?' Orrade whispered. 'What's going on here?'
'Yes, Lence?' Byren echoed. 'What's going on?'
'I'm claiming my birthright,' his twin explained. 'Using the Merofynian army as my tool.'
Byren blinked. 'Lence, Merofynia has invaded Rolencia. Unless we stop this overlord everything we hold dear is going to be destroyed, everyone we love is going to die. Palatyne — '
'I'm not Palatyne's captive.' Lence almost looked sorry for Byren. He nodded to the Cockatrice warlord. 'I'm Rejulas's captive, but only for as long as it suits me. We've hatched a plan, Rejulas and I.'
No one lowered their swords. Rejulas edged closer to Lence so that he confronted Orrade. 'Tell them, kingsheir.'
'I have it on good authority that the Merofynians despise their king and fear his overlord,' Lence said softly, reasonably. 'They were planning to invade Rolencia so — '
'They made overtures to me,' Rejulas laughed. 'Expected me to betray Rolencia.'
'Merofynia is ripe for invasion. I know for a fact that the people would welcome Queen Myrella's heir,' Lence continued, his voice gathering strength. 'When Father refused to even consider invading — '
'Did you tell him they were massing an army, that they'd approached the warlord of Cockatrice Spar?' Byren demanded.
'We didn't know that at first.' Lence nodded to the warlord. 'Rejulas — '
'I was sitting in the Three Swans, having been rejected by your vixen of a sister, thinking I'd be better off accepting Palatyne's offer, when Lence came in,' Rejulas explained. 'And I was just angry enough to tell him so!'
'Luckily, Illien was with me,' Lence said. 'He saw how we could use Palatyne against his own king. We're going to let the Merofynian army wear itself down taking Rolencia. Then Rejulas will reveal his true loyalty by releasing me, and together we will crush the crippled Merofynians and take back what should have been mine,' Lence revealed, scorn threading his voice as he went on. 'And you, you came in so slobbering drunk you did not see any of this!'
Byren closed his eyes, remembering the scrap of paper with its hastily drawn map and army movements. He had thought Lence was planning how to defend Rolencia, when he had really been planning how to defeat their father!
He couldn't believe it. 'I don't — '
'That's why you will never be king,' Lence told him. 'All along, everyone thought you were the clever one and I was second best — '
'That's not true!' Byren protested.
'But you're not clever in the ways that matter,' Lence ignored him. 'I set this up. I'll have the crowns of both Rolencia and Merofynia as their saviour and rightful ruler — '
'What of Father?' Byren protested. 'He's the rightful ruler of Rolencia.'
'Father…' Lence's voice faltered. 'He was a great king once, but he's been making bad decisions — giving up the right to rule Merofynia, refusing to invade, forcing me to marry this Merofynian cow, not seeing what you really are…'
Byren's heart faltered as Lence fell silent, staring at him, seeing things Byren could not.
'I'm not a Servant of Palos, Lence,' he whispered, mouth almost too dry to talk. 'Believe me, there is no conspiracy.'
'Of course you'd say that. Illien warned me to harden my heart against you of all people.' Lence's eyes glistened with tears but underneath anger grew. 'You — '
'What of Rejulas?' Orrade asked suddenly, gesturing with his sword to the warlord. 'What do you get out of this trickery, warlord?'
Rejulas nodded to Lence. 'My king has promised me Piro and overlordship of all the spars as a reward for loyalty.'
'Loyalty?' Byren snorted.
'That will never work,' Orrade argued, edging one step closer to Byren. 'The spars will never accept — '
'They will send their best warriors to support King Rolen. There'll be nothing but the old and children left, no one to object to me as overlord.' Rejulas smiled. 'Palatyne employed a similar ploy to become overlord of Merofynia's spars.'
'In fifteen or twenty years the spars will grow a new crop of warriors. They'll revolt,' Byren insisted. 'Lence, how can you turn on Father like this?'
'Father had his chance. He threw it away. He could have been King Rolen the Great, ruler of the known world!'
Byren shook his head.
'Illien was right.' Lence lifted the poker tip. 'He said you did not have the breadth of vision to see.'