The King's bastard

Garzik silently appealed to Byren.

'Well, you're here now,' he said, replacing the pot on the brazier. 'Let's get you fed. We can decide tomorrow if you go back.'

'I'm not going back.'

'Father will disown you,' Orrade warned. 'He'll make Elina his heir.' He grinned ruefully. 'He should. She'd do a better job than either of us.'

Garzik rolled his eyes.

'Don't roll your eyes at me,' Orrade snapped.

Byren dropped the ladle in the pot. 'What did you say?'

Orrade gestured to Garzik. 'I might be disowned but I am still his older brother and I — '

'By Halcyon, you can see!' Byren fumbled in his pack for the lamp and lit it.

Orrade winced at the light, turning away, then realised what he had done. 'I can see and my head's stopped hurting.' He sat up, blinking slowly as though testing his sight. 'There's some grey spots floating across my vision but I swear, I can see!'

Garzik threw himself on Orrade, hugging him fiercely. Byren watched, his own joy tempered because he feared Orrade's sight wasn't permanently restored. He didn't like the sound of grey patches moving over his vision.

'Now everything's all right.' Garzik sat back on his heels. 'We can both swear loyalty to King Rolen and next time you teach spar raiders a lesson, I'll come too!'

Byren grimaced. If only life were that simple. He was going home with the threat of his supposed association with the Servants of Palos hanging over him. All it would take was a slip of Garzik's tongue to land him in trouble. How would his father react? He wasn't called King Rolen the Implacable for nothing.

He should send Garzik back to Dovecote estate.

Garzik grinned at Orrade. 'Now that you can see, you can perform some deed of bravery and win a title and estate of your own!'

'Don't you care that I'm like Palos?' Orrade demanded.

Garzik laughed. 'You're still my brother.'

Orrade smiled, and shook his head in wonder, making Byren realise he couldn't send the lad back, even if he would go.

Garzik glanced his way. 'And Byren is still the finest warrior I have ever seen.'

Orrade snorted. 'And you've seen so many. But Garza, it's not true. Byren only claimed to own the pendant to try and save me from father's wrath.'

Garzik turned awed eyes to Byren. 'You did that for Orrie?'

He shrugged this aside. 'Come and eat. Truth be told, I didn't even think, just reacted.' No, if he'd given it any thought he would never have put himself in this position. Shouldn't have had to. Orrade and his stupid pendant.

Byren summoned a smile as he passed the boy a bowl of reheated dinner. 'Here, have this. We should be at the castle by lunchtime tomorrow.'

'Good.' Garzik accepted the bowl. 'Piro will get such a surprise.'

'No more picking on her,' Orrade told him, watching his brother fondly as he gulped down the strew. 'Piro Kingsdaughter is nearly a woman now, and won't want to play silly childish games.'

'Since when?' Garzik challenged.

'Speaking of my family.' Byren cleared his throat. Time to deal with unpleasant truths. 'I'll have to tell mother and father that you've been disinherited, Orrie. It would be wrong to let you eat at their table without letting them know.'

Orrade nodded. 'I've been thinking. They don't need to know the details. I'll tell them it's between father and I. That's true enough. I'll offer King Rolen my sword. I've always liked Captain Temor.'

Byren nodded. Temor had served his father since the Merofynian war and trained them all when they were boys. He would probably accept Orrade, but it would be a big drop from Dovecote heir to one of the king's honour guard.

Piro shifted from foot to foot, trying to contain her impatience. She was terribly disappointed, and the scent of glues and stiffeners used to create the milliner's elaborate head-dresses made her feel dizzy. Maybe, if she inhaled deeply several times in a row, she'd look sickly enough for her mother to cut the shopping short. Could she manage a believable faint?

She thought she could fool the milliner but not her mother. Queen Myrella knew how good she was at play acting. If only the milliner had sent a message to say that the hercinia feathers hadn't arrived yet, then she wouldn't have come shopping. She hated being polite and having to mind her manners. But it had seemed worth it to see feathers that glowed in the dark.

Because the hercinia birds were so rare they had almost died out and her father had banned the use of their feathers for all but royalty. Not that Piro wanted a head-dress adorned with hercinia feathers, no, she just wanted to see them for herself to discover if they were as brilliant as the feathers of her own pet foenix. Privately she doubted that any bird, Affinity or otherwise, could be as handsome.

While the milliner fitted her mother's new head-dress for the midwinter ceremony, Piro gazed out the window into Rolenton Square. She could just see the base of the shop's sign.

A familiar profile, carried on broad shoulders, strode by.

Piro gasped. 'Byren!'

'Byren?' her mother echoed. 'Surely he hasn't brought the Royal Ingeniator back already?'

'It is Byren!' Piro dashed towards the door, throwing it wide open. Sure enough. There he was, unmistakable because he was so much taller than everyone else. And he was with Garzik as well as Orrade, so he must have gone on to Dovecote estate. They all wore packs on their backs, slung with skates.

'Byren!' With a yell she set off after him. Heads turned.

He spun around, saw her racing across the cobbles and gave that crooked grin that made one dimple appear in his cheek.

She laughed, throwing herself at him. He caught her around the waist, lifting her into the air and swinging her around. She loved it.

Effortlessly, he set her down. 'Uh. You're getting too big for this, Piro!'

'I don't even come up to your shoulder!' She laughed.

'I meant too old.'

She ignored that. The longer she could put off growing up, the better. Being a grown woman meant always behaving with decorum and a thousand restrictions that would drive her mad. No, she'd fight every step of the way. Why limit herself, when she'd rather be out riding with Byren than sitting in her mother's solarium balancing the castle's books or cross-checking the kingdom's laws? 'What are you doing back already, Byren?' She nodded to Orrade and grinned at Garzik. 'So your father finally let you out without a nursemaid, Garza? Where's Elina? What happened to your head, Orrie?'

The three of them exchanged looks and Orrade fingered the bandage.

'A branch fell on me,' Orrade said. 'Elina's not well. She may not come to the midwinter ceremony.'

'Oh, no.' Piro didn't try to hide her disappointment. 'What's wrong with her?'

Orrade opened his mouth but nothing came out.

'Piro?' Byren frowned at her. 'What are you doing running around Rolenton like a seamstress's apprentice on half-day? Mother wouldn't approve. Where is she by the way? Have you snuck away again?'

'Not this time,' Piro admitted then saw his expression. 'Oh, don't be angry with me, Byren. It's such a pain being expected to behave like a — '

He looked past her. 'Tell that to Mother. Here she comes!'

Piro winced but the queen only had eyes for her son, as she swept towards them.

'Byren, it is you!' Queen Myrella grabbed his vest and pulled his face down to hers, planting a kiss on each cheek. Then she stepped back beaming. Only a single stray curl revealed how she must have thrown off her head-dress to dart after Piro. She smiled at the two Dovecote brothers. 'Orrade. And Garzik, how you've grown! I trust your father is well.'

'Well enough,' Orrade answered stiffly.

The queen touched his bandage briefly. 'What happened to you, Orrie? Are you all right?'

'A small head wound. It's nothing.'

'That must have given your father a fright. Where is he?'