He smiled, remembering how quickly she'd picked up the steps and how earnestly she'd related her observations of Lady Cinna. All of which had been quite innocent, if revealing of Florin's discomfort with her current situation.
But the smile soon left his face. Though he was exhausted, Byren could not sleep. He paced the tower. Tomorrow Warlord Feid would send four swift boats to the other spars, calling on the warlords to support the rightful king of Rolencia.
All Byren could do now was wait, and he hated not being in control. Give him a fort to take, a beast to kill or a border to hold and he would, but this waiting stole a man's spirit.
Someone pushed the trap door open behind him.
'Orrie,' Byren greeted him with relief. 'What brings you up here?'
He was followed by one of the young monks.
'Feldspar has something to tell you,' Orrade said and stepped aside. 'Go on, lad.'
The youth hesitated.
A cold wind cut through Byren's jacket. 'Spit it out.'
'It's the mystics master, kingsheir. Even though he drugs himself each night with dreamless-sleep he moans in his sleep.'
'A man can't be responsible for his nightmares,' Byren said.
'If they are only nightmares,' Feldspar whispered.
'What are you saying?'
'By creating the illusion in the foenix cavern Master Catillum laid himself open to untamed Affinity. I know. I felt him fight it.' Feldspar let out his breath with a shudder. 'I fear he fights it still.'
Byren noticed Orrade touch his sword hilt, and shook his head swiftly. 'We each fight our battles in our own way. The mystics master has proved his loyalty to me, Feldspar. I want you to watch him. If it looks like he's failing to win his private battle, let me know.'
'You can't ask this of me,' Feldspar blurted, backing up a step. 'I'm not trained.'
'Who else can I ask?'
Feldspar gaped.
'Bring word to me, not to Byren,' Orrade said. He caught Byren's eye. 'Catillum might grow suspicious if one of his monks seeks you out.'
Byren nodded, then took pity on the youth. 'Go down to bed, lad.'
When he slipped away, Byren paced and Orrade walked with him.
'I swear it's colder out here on the spar than in Rolencia.' Orrade pulled his cloak more closely around his shoulders. 'Sylion knows, I feel for the mystics master but it'd be safer to kill Catillum now.'
'Safer, but would it be right? A man should have the chance to prove himself. Besides, I'd lose the support of his monks.'
'His death could be made to look like an accident.'
Byren stopped. 'Since when were you so quick to deal in death?'
'Since I became your spymaster.' Orrade faced him. 'I will always tell you the truth, whether you want to hear it or not. If Catillum's Affinity is compromised and we wait too long, it may be too late to contain him. He's powerful, Byren.'
'You're right. But I won't be that kind of ruler, Orrie.' Byren hid his disquiet. 'Catillum's loyal for now. Let's not borrow trouble. We have enough of our own.'
'You stayed your hand the night Dovecote fell. You let Palatyne rape my sister, so the others had time to escape. I thought you hard then — '
'And you think me weak now?' Byren asked, his voice growing tense. The memory of that night still tortured him. It would as long as he lived.
'No…' Orrade admitted. 'I think you've made another hard decision, for the right reason. You see clearly, Byren. Further than me.'
He shook his head. 'Your mind's sharper than mine.'
'Maybe, but perhaps not as…' he shrugged, 'honourable.'
Byren snorted.
'I would kill for you, Byren. Willingly kill to protect you.'
It came to Byren then that Orrade made the best kind of spymaster, ruthless and utterly devoted. 'I'm lucky to have you. Orrade shrugged and resumed pacing. 'We should hear back from Leogryf and Unistag Spars soon. But it will take Feid's messengers longer to reach Manticore and Cockatrice Spars.'
'And who knows if Cockatrice has settled on a warlord, since you killed Rejulas?'
The night Dovecote fell, Orrade had killed the Cockatrice warlord. He'd had no choice for, in the mistaken belief that he was helping Lence seize the crown, Warlord Rejulas had opened his pass to Palatyne, giving him access to Rolencia's soft underbelly.
'The new Cockatrice warlord should be eager to prove his spar's loyalty,' Orrade muttered. 'How long will you wait for the last two warlords' responses? The longer we delay, the more defences will be added to the new fort over Foenix Pass.'
He was right. More decisions. 'Ask me tomorrow.' Byren faked a yawn, which turned into a real one. 'I'm for bed.'
But, even in his bed, he could not sleep. For once, Orrade did not stretch out beside him and Byren missed his presence. His friend was stretched out on the floor, along with the rest of Byren's honour guard. Beyond the bed's rich drapes their snores filled the darkness.
Byren lay on his back, staring up at the canopy, which was all but lost in the darkness, as he wrestled with the decisions he'd made and had yet to make. He wished he had as much faith in himself as Orrade had.
These moral dilemmas were why he had not craved the kingship. How did he know what was the right decision? The crazy old seer had known what she was talking about.
Pity she was long dead.
Dusk, two days later, Byren met with Warlord Unace's representative. The uprising had decimated her forces, so she'd sent one of her few surviving kinsmen, an old man with white hair and a tendency to shout due to his deafness. Consequently the meeting was short.
As Master Catillum and Feid escorted Unace's kinsman out of the war table chamber, Byren caught Orrade's arm and they fell behind.
The mystics master glanced over his shoulder, noticed and sent Byren a look of query. Bearing in mind Feldspar's warning, Byren gave a slight shake of his head. The door closed on the others and Byren wandered over to the window where Orrade joined him. Byren barely noticed the activity in the courtyard three floors below them.
'Unace will send four hundred warriors, mostly untried youths.' Byren rubbed the bridge of his nose. He did not want to send boys to their deaths.
'And no word from Leogryf Spar,' Orrade said.
'Not surprising. He has farther to sail.' Feid's stronghold was on the east coast of Foenix Spar and, on a clear day, they could see the peaks of Unistag Spar. Leogryf Spar was further away, to the west. 'I don't expect to hear from him for a day or two.'
Orrade leant closer to the window, to look down into the courtyard. 'I knew it wouldn't last.' There was a smile in his voice.
Byren followed the direction of his gaze. His people filled the courtyard, sharpening weapons, repairing tack, laughing and talking. Florin moved through, heading for the stables to see her father and brother, no doubt. Byren should have known he couldn't keep her out of harm's way, but still it made his body tense.
'Florin's back in her trews.' Orrade grinned. 'I knew the dress wouldn't last. Mind you, it did look good. I'd no idea she hid a woman's curves under her men's clothing. Maybe I'll ask her to dance tonight.'
'Go right ahead,' Byren said, surprised by the pang it caused him.
But it would be the perfect solution to his problem. With Orrade in Florin's bed, no one would suspect his friend's preference for men, for Byren specifically. The thought of Orrade and Florin together left a bitter taste in Byren's mouth. Since he had no intention of attaching himself to a mountain girl without useful connections, he could not satisfy his itch and besides, Florin deserved more than a tumble in the hay.
With that realisation, Byren wanted to warn Orrade off, unless his intentions were honourable, but his friend was far too perceptive. So he kept his silence.