Fyn laughed. 'I bet you'd love a hot meal and a hot bath.'
An hour later, after being let inside Dunstany's mansion by his spy, Fyn watched while a much cleaner Orrade enjoyed a hot dinner.
'You look like you haven't eaten properly in days.'
'I haven't.' Orrade took a mouthful of ale and fixed sharp eyes on him. 'What's going on, Fyn?'
'You heard them out in the street. They hate Byren. They're ready to accept Palatyne if he marries Isolt. And it wouldn't take much to convince them to attack Ostron Isle.'
'I don't much care what happens to Merofynia or Ostron Isle. I just want to make sure Byren's safe,' Orrade said.
'No one, not Byren or Piro or Isolt, will be safe until Palatyne's dead, and if we assassinated him, we wouldn't get out of here alive.'
'You're right,' Orrade conceded. 'So, what are we going to do?'
Fyn sank into the window seat overlooking the Landlocked Sea. 'I've no idea. Yet.'
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Piro waited unnoticed towards the back of the crowd that filled the king's bedchamber. The great bed stood in the centre of the room on its dais. Like a restless sea, ebbing and flowing, courtiers clustered around it.
There were representatives from every noble family of Merofynia as well as warlords from beyond the Dividing Mountains. Several healers hovered over the bed consulting.
Back home in Rolencia, there would have been Sylion nuns and Halcyon monks, here they were renegade Power-workers, eager to make a name for themselves, plus nuns and monks from Merofynia's abbeys. Her father had always considered them little better than Affinity renegades. Three Cyena nuns in purest white sang and did the warding symbols at the chamber's three entrances. Five Mulcibar monks with their abbot walked around the bed praying for the king's soul as they swung tiny brass braziers filled with burning herbs. Renegade Power-workers chanted and made gestures over the bed. The room smelled of too many bodies, pungent Mulcibar herbs and beneath that, barely disguised, old age and death. It made Piro feel ill. She wished she could open a window and take a breath of clean air.
Isolt was speaking intently with the healers and, from her tight expression, the news was not good. So far the king had met his daughter's eyes only once with a flicker of recognition, and then resumed his senseless muttering.
Silence fell as Palatyne marched into the chamber with the Utland Power-worker by his side.
'Kingsdaughter.' He bowed.
'Duke.' Isolt inclined her head only slightly.
'I fear there is no hope, Isolt,' Duke Palatyne said, his voice cutting through all the others. 'The king lives but his mind has gone. For the sake of the kingdom you must appoint a regent to rule until you are of age. Consider appointing me as your regent. Better still, before he lost his reason King Merofyn asked me to put his mind at rest and marry you, so that both you and the kingdom would be cared for.' His triumphant eyes never left Isolt. 'For peace and stability we must marry as soon as possible. The people of Rolencia are planning an uprising and the elector of Ostron Isle cannot be trusted.'
Isolt opened her mouth as if she would argue, but Palatyne rushed on.
'After all, you do not know how long your father has to live, and you want him to see your wedding, don't you?'
Isolt winced visibly then recovered her composure, assuming her Merofynian court face, but Piro knew she was seething.
'And so, he springs the trap,' Lord Dunstany whispered.
Piro bit back a gasp and turned to meet Tyro's eyes. In some ways she was more comfortable with him when he was disguised as the noble Power-worker. Why couldn't Lord Dunstany be the real person, then he could be her friend, not her… what was Tyro to her, but an angry, pretentious youth, who had only recently begun to trust her? Too late for her to let her guard down.
'Fyn's safe?' she breathed.
'At Dunstany's mansion.'
'Byren?'
'Caged, but safe for now.'
'We must free him.'
'When we are ready.'
Piro felt the force of furious eyes and turned to see the Utlander glaring at them. At Lord Dunstany.
The Utland Power-worker left Palatyne's side and joined them. 'So you have come back to us, Lord Dunstany.'
'As soon as I could, I came to serve my king.' He gave a gracious bow.
'Not soon enough, I fear.' The Utlander pretended sympathy. 'Your patron has not long to live and soon my patron will be king.'
As if to confirm this they heard Isolt's clear voice. 'You are right, Duke Palatyne. We must marry soon. I see all of Merofynia's noble families are present. Since they are here, why not marry tomorrow?'
'Tomorrow?' Palatyne was surprised, but willing.
'It would take time to prepare such a grand occasion,' Lord Dunstany spoke up. 'There is the food for the feast, the decorations — '
'It can be done. I can do it!' the Utlander insisted. He turned to the duke. 'Give me a day to organise the joint wedding and coronation.'
Palatyne laughed. 'Very well. Make it the day after tomorrow. I want this to be a grand occasion for my bride.'
With a flourish, Palatyne kissed Isolt's hand. Her face betrayed nothing as the nobles, healers, nuns and monks all offered their congratulations.
Isolt excused herself as soon as she could, claiming she had preparations to complete. The kingsdaughter swept from the room, Piro at her heels.
When they were out in the almost deserted corridor Piro whispered, 'Why did you suggest marrying him so soon? You hate him.'
'I do. But I hate seeing my father suffer even more. As soon as I am queen I shall dismiss those healers and the Utlander — '
'You forget, you will be queen, subject to your king. Palatyne!'
'As queen, I will be subject to no one.' Isolt's eyes blazed. 'For Palatyne will not live long enough to be king. You must find out where he keeps the poison he meant to use on my father. Before the wedding you must slip it into his food while I distract him.'
'It's in the ring he wears on the little finger of his left hand. The stone lifts off.' Piro fought a surge of panic. It did not worry her that Isolt had ordered her to commit murder. Palatyne deserved to die. Like Cobalt, he was corrupt and nothing would make him whole. What worried her was carrying this off under the Utlander's nose. 'I don't see how I can get the ring off his finger.'
'Then we must ask Lord Dunstany for some poison of our own,' Isolt whispered. 'Slip it in Palatyne's food.'
That was when Piro remembered Palatyne owned a unistag horn. Poison would not get past it. They'd have to come up with another idea. Before she could mention this, they reached Isolt's chambers, where they were greeted by three of Duke Palatyne's own warriors, battle-scarred veterans from his time on the spar.
'You may go. I have my own guards,' Isolt told them.
'We cannot leave your door, kingsdaughter,' the oldest said. 'The Utlander uncovered a plot to kidnap you and if you are taken we lose our lives.'
'It is good of the duke to care for my safety.' Isolt caught Piro's eye. 'Seela, bring my dressmaker. I need a new gown for my wedding. The seamstress and her girls will have to sit up all night.'
If Isolt could not reach Dunstany, Piro could. But, when Piro turned to go, one of the men fell in step with her. Seeing her expression he explained. 'My instructions are not to let you out of my sight, Mistress Seela.'
Piro hid her dismay. And by the time she had run her errands she had decided not to tell Isolt about the unistag horn. As long as her friend had hope, she would not do something desperate.
'My spymaster tells me you've brought home a stray, Fyn?' Tyro challenged, as he entered the chamber. Fyn noted that he'd put aside his Lord Dunstany disguise before appearing.
'Tyro, this is Orrie, he…' Fyn hesitated. How was he to explain? 'He grew up with us.'