The Ursuper

Agent Tyro fixed Fyn with gleaming dark eyes. Piro thought she saw a hint of laughter in their depths. 'At this moment Byren Kingsheir, or should I say the deposed king, is trying to unite your father's warlords, Fyn Rolen Kingson. So far, only two have offered their support. He needs the support of all five to stand a chance of retaking Rolencia.'

Piro hid her joy. This was the first real news she'd had of Byren.

Fyn's eyes narrowed. 'How — '

'Mage Tsulamyth has a very good spy network, Fyn. Now perhaps you would like to share another of your secrets?' When Tyro turned to Piro, she had the feeling he had been avoiding looking her way. 'Introduce me to your sister.'

Piro's heart skipped a beat and heat raced up her cheeks. She hated being caught in a lie. How had he guessed?

Fyn cleared his throat. Piro could tell he was quietly furious but he spoke courteously. 'Lord Tyro, this — '

'I am no lord,' the agent said, voice cold and cutting. 'My father did not acknowledge me. My mother sold me to the mage when I was five.'

Isolt took a step back as did Piro, scalded by his fury. Born the wrong side of the blanket — now she understood why the agent was so pompous. She'd seen the same response in those who felt disadvantaged in her father's court.

'I've met lords with less scholarship than you, Agent Tyro,' Fyn said.

Tyro's eyes widened, then he almost smiled. 'Your tongue is as fast as your sword. A valuable trait. Now, introduce your sister.'

Fyn cleared his throat. 'Agent Tyro, meet the sister I thought dead, Piro Rolen Kingsdaughter.'

The agent bowed then took a step back, looking at Piro. Waiting. Waiting… His obsidian eyes held hers, intense and quizzical. When she merely stared right back at him, a wry smile tugged at his lips. 'Don't you know your old master, Seelon?'

'Lord Dunstany!' Piro gasped. 'But… but you're young. The noble Power-worker was ninety even though he looked fifty.' She frowned. 'You must have used your Affinity to augment a player's disguise and — '

'No,' Isolt spoke up. 'Lord Dunstany has served the Merofynian royal family since my great-grandfather's time, so this agent can't be him.'

Tyro turned to her. 'You are right. Lord Dunstany died of natural causes, without any heirs. He was my master's trusted friend and agent. Dunstany arranged with the mage to keep his death a secret. Since I bore a strong resemblance, being born on the wrong side of the blanket on Dunstany's estate, I took his place so that Lord Dunstany could continue to serve the mage.'

'But I slept on the floor next to your bunk,' Piro objected. 'I rubbed lineament on your… on Lord Dunstany's swollen fingers.'

'You offered and I could not resist. So kind.' For a heartbeat his eyes twinkled as Lord Dunstany's used to and Piro felt a tug of recognition. Then he was the cold, pompous young man again. Maybe not as young as he appeared. 'A disguise is only as good as its detail, kingsdaughter. A maid servant would not have clean toes and fingers.'

'You knew it was me from the start!'

'Why do you think I was so quick to get you away from Palatyne? His Utland Power-worker is a dangerous man.'

'But you… when you were Lord Dunstany, you mocked the Utlander, made him out to be weaker than you,' Piro countered.

'I did,' Tyro conceded. He glanced to Fyn. 'What happens if two equally skilled swordsmen meet?'

'They don't battle unless they are forced to, because they know one or both will die.'

'What if one swordsman knows the other is more powerful?'

'He bluffs,' Fyn said, and his eyes widened. 'Sounds as if you were playing a dangerous game, Agent Tyro.'

'We play the game we must. Each of you knows that.'

They were all silent for a moment.

Then Piro had to ask, 'But why? Why play at all? Why did you accompany Palatyne when he invaded Rolencia? Why didn't the mage go? Is he too frail and old? Is he truly over two hundred years old?'

'The mage is a very great man and he does not discuss his plans with a slip of a girl,' Agent Tyro told her, turning to speak to Fyn.

Furious, Piro walked away, pretending to study the war table. She hated Agent Tyro, felt he'd made a fool of her. Her face burned, as she tried to recall everything that had passed between Tyro and herself, when he had been disguised as Lord Dunstany.

Believing him an old man she had treated him like a grandfather, but Dunstany had not treated her like a slave. He had been kind to her.

Only Tyro wasn't Dunstany. He was a cold, arrogant young man. Her mind raced.

At least she knew why Dunstany had pulled the bed curtain every night. The agent could not maintain his disguise while he slept. His Affinity must be powerful to maintain a disguise all day, even aided with the player's arts.

Fyn's voice reached her. '… met Dunstany in Marchand. So that's why he… you sent me to the Wyvern's Whelp.'

Piro turned. Fyn had told them how he'd failed to assassinate Palatyne, finding the noble Power-worker in the bed instead. That was the night Dunstany had locked her in the cupboard, to protect her, he'd said. To keep her away from Fyn more like. And to think they had been so close.

'I had to get you safely out of Rolencia.' A wry grin tugged at Tyro's lips, reminding her of Dunstany and how much she missed him. Only he had never existed. At least, the Lord Dunstany she knew hadn't existed. There was an odd pain in her chest.

'I could not believe my luck when you tried to kill me,' Tyro confessed.

Piro laughed outright.

Isolt and Fyn both stared at her. When Tyro met her eyes, his held a smile. He understood.

She found this unnerving so she confronted him. 'Lord Dun… Agent Tyro. I can understand why you let Palatyne give me to Isolt. You had no choice. But why did you leave Merofynia just when Isolt needed you?'

'The mage called me back. He has many irons in the fire.'

'Another thing,' Fyn said. 'If you knew Seelon was Piro all along, why didn't you tell me? Why did you send me off to… rescue Isolt?'

Piro caught the slight hesitation and guessed Fyn had not been sent to rescue Isolt, but to abduct her.

Lord Dunstany… Tyro knew Isolt. He had to realise she wouldn't want to marry Palatyne. Ahh, he had been testing Fyn. She let the revelation slide, eager to hear what Tyro had to say.

'Serving Isolt was the safest place for King Rolen's daughter. But I was not sure if Piro would be with her when you found her.' The agent drew something from his pocket, fingering it absently. Piro recognised a Kingdoms piece, a monk. 'The mage was testing you, Fyn. You had to pass or your piece would have been flawed.'

'You speak in riddles.' Fyn bristled.

'Forgive me,' Tyro said, but Piro could tell he didn't mean it. He meant, y ou have to forgive me, because you have no choice. She really didn't like him. 'Being obscure is a failing of those with Affinity and I was raised by the master of all mages.' He changed topic abruptly. 'Do you want to see your brother restored to the throne of Rolencia, Fyn?'

'Of course I do. But what is it to you, or the mage for that matter?'

'For you to understand, I must tell you a little about my master. Mage Tsulamyth has been playing the game of Duelling Kingdoms for nearly two hundred years, gradually building power and influence. A hundred and fifty years ago, he convinced the five powerful noble families of Ostron Isle to elect a ruler, instead of assassinating each other in a bid for power.

'Under this system Ostron Isle has prospered. Not that there haven't been attempts by ambitious nobles to set themselves up as kings instead of electors,' Agent Tyro admitted with a half-smile. He spread his hands. 'Then the mage spent many years trying to bring about a peace between Rolencia and Merofynia, only succeeding when Myrella Merofyn Kingsdaughter married King Rolen.'