The King's bastard

'You're a spoilt brat, Piro. And, after spring cusp you won't be a kingsdaughter bred to serve Rolencia, you'll be a lowly nun serving Sylion Abbey!'

She gasped, taking a step back. It was true and she hated him for it.

'Now get out,' Lence told her, voice rising. 'And knock next time!'

A year ago she would have told him just what she thought of him. But not now, for he was wrong — she was no longer a child. Collecting her dignity, Piro gave Lence a stiff little bow and backed out. It was only later that she wondered what had been in the bag Lence gave Cobalt and what it was he'd sent Cobalt to do.

Byren packed the entrance to the snow-cave to seal it and crawled back to his side. Orrade knelt on his haunches as he stirred their food, a small pot of stew, prepared back at Rolenhold and preserved with spices. The glowing coals of the brazier made his pale skin ruddy.

It was time. 'Why didn't you tell me Cobalt blackmailed you to be his spy?'

Orrade went utterly still for a heartbeat, then continued stirring the stew. 'How did you know?'

'I was there in the devotional box.'

Colour crept up Orrade's cheeks. 'Then you know I was not a willing party to this deception.' He glanced at Byren. 'Why didn't you bring it up before?'

'Why didn't you tell me before?'

Orrade made a helpless gesture. 'I didn't want to worry you. I've cost you too much already.'

In all honesty, Byren couldn't deny this.

'If you knew, why didn't you say something?' Orrade asked. When Byren didn't answer, the slow burn of anger made his black eyes gleam. 'I'd never betray you, Byren.'

'No?' His chest felt so tight it was hard to speak. 'What did you tell him, when we got back from Unistag Spar? He would have been expecting a report.'

'He was.' Orrade met his eyes. 'I told him only what he needed to hear — '

'Piro?'

'Nothing of Piro. When your men spoke of Lady Unace's unistag, he put two and two together, but I claimed I knew nothing. I told him we hardly speak any more, that you blame me for losing Elina's love.'

'I don't,' Byren muttered, frustrated. 'She should have known how I felt.'

'Why?' One side of Orrade's mouth lifted in a rueful smile. 'Because you feel so strongly?'

Byren nodded.

'It doesn't work that way,' Orrade told him.

Byren heard the painful self-knowledge in his voice and winced. 'Orrie, I — '

'Stew's ready.' Orrade began ladling it out, then grabbed a roll that had been heating on the brazier's edge and tossed it over to Byren. It was several days old but the heat had made it crispy.

He caught the bread and accepted his bowl. 'I owe you an apology.'

'Forget it. I've been thinking of a way we can turn Cobalt's cunning to our advantage.'

'Oh?' Byren paused, as he dipped the bread in the stew.

'I'll tell him what we want him to hear. It must be believable but it doesn't have to be the truth.'

Byren snorted. 'He won't believe the truth. I've already told him I don't want to rule Rolencia. Twice.' Even as he said this, he realised it was true. This was what that first conversation back on the Divide had been about, when Cobalt had approached him outside the council hall.

Byren caught Orrade watching him with a look that was hard to read. 'What?'

'Nothing.'

'Once Lence marries Isolt, he'll see she's not so bad,' Byren said. 'The alliance will be secure and Lence will settle down.'

Orrade dipped his roll in the stew and tore off a chunk, saying nothing.

'You don't think so?' Byren prodded.

'Ask yourself why Cobalt's mischief has fallen on fertile ground with Lence,' Orrade said, then gave the answer. 'Cobalt's telling Lence what he wants to hear.'

Byren found the stew had lost all taste. For the first time he understood that everything might not turn out for the best. What if the breach between himself and Lence deepened?

'Have you ever thought of travelling?' Orrade asked. 'Why not go to Ostron Isle as Rolencia's ambassador? I could come with you. We'd — '

'Leave?' Byren was torn between anger and laughter. As if he could leave home when Rolencia needed him.

Much later, Piro snuggled into bed, grateful for the warming stone. Except for trouncing Garzik at Duelling Kingdoms, the evening had been an interminable bore. Brookfield and Dellton had been either tongue-tied in front of Elina, or too voluble. And Lence had discussed the Utland reprisal raid with Lord Dovecote. Piro had heard it all before. The only new thing she had learnt was that Lence had sent Cobalt to Rolenhold to let them know Lence had decided to stay at Dovecote for now.

Piro rolled over and thumped the pillow. She'd hated the way Lence watched Elina all night. He'd even saved the crackling off the top of his caramel toffee-pear for her because it was her favourite treat. Piro knew Elina was secretly heartbroken over Byren but she had seemed inclined to look more favourably on Lence, even though he was betrothed.

Piro sat up in bed. Did Elina know about Lence's betrothal? The Dovecotes hadn't come to the midwinter feast where it was announced and Piro hadn't had a chance to mention it yet. They may not have heard because news didn't travel fast in winter.

Elina needed to know that Lence was betrothed in case she contemplated opening her heart to him. She'd always been fond of Lence.

Slipping out of the bed, Piro reached for her shawl. Her toes curled on the cold rug and she quickly tucked them into her slippers and padded to the door. Elina's chamber was next to hers. She'd tell Elina now, warn her not to believe Lence's compliments and maybe take the chance to plead Byren's case.

But when she came to the door it was slightly ajar and the room was empty. Where was Elina?

Piro crept down the hall until she heard muffled voices from the balcony which overlooked the great hall. There was a rustling then a male chuckle.

'One kiss is never enough,' Lence cajoled. 'Let's see what you have under this — ow!'

Piro smiled, pleased. The wooing wasn't going all his way for once.

'I said one kiss and that's all I meant. I'm not one of your rolls in the hay, Lence,' Elina snapped. 'Now, what did you want to see me about?'

'They've betrothed me to a Merofynian prize cow!'

'What?'

'And all the while I've been dreaming of you. Dreaming of your smooth, milky skin, your sparkling obsidian eyes, your — '

'You're betrothed, Lence? When did this happen?'

'Midwinter. They betrothed me to Isolt, that usurper Merofyn's daughter. I am the true heir, not him or his daughter.'

'We had not heard about your betrothal.' Elina spoke slowly, clearly shocked. 'I — '

'It doesn't matter. I'll be coming for you.'

'But what about your betrothed?'

Yes, Piro thought. What about her?

'Don't worry. That marriage will never come to pass. I'll be back to claim you, Elina. You understand?'

'I don't see how you can agree to a betrothal then — '

'I'm going to be king and, when I am, I'll choose my own bride and it will be you. So promise you'll wait for me.'

She gave a bitter laugh. 'I'm not about to marry anyone else.'

'Not even Byren?' Lence countered, as if he couldn't help himself.

'Byren? He preferred my brother to me!' It was a cry from the heart.

Piro jumped, thumping her elbow on the wainscoting.

'What was that?' Elina sounded alarmed.

'Nothing. Rats — '

'We don't have rats at Dovecote. I had the best ratters in only last week — '

'Forget the rats, Elina.' Lence didn't sound surprised by Elina's revelation about his twin. 'What makes you think Byren's a Servant of Palos?'

'He told father that he and Orrie are lovers. That's why father disinherited Orrade. Da's devastated. He made us promise to tell no one.'