Chapter Six
Piro looked down into the seething square. There was no time for people to wait for carts to carry their belongings. If they did not go now, they would be cut off. She flew down the stairs, boots barely touching the wood.
Instead of running out into the thronging square, she ran into the bell-ringers' little nook, deep inside the tower. Far above her the ropes stretched impossibly high and light filtered down from the great bells.
Piro only hoped she remembered the right bell sequence for the warning. It was meant to be rung by a team of three, so she would just have to do her best. Leaping off her feet, she clutched the first rope and let her weight drag it down. A thunderous stroke echoed above her. Even as the rope rode up, she was reaching for the next one. This bell was pitched higher. Prompted by the old rhyme learnt as a child when her mother used to sing her to sleep, she rang the sequence, leaping from rope to rope. She was playing it too slow, but that could not be helped. People would recognise it and realise why she was ringing the warning.
'You, girly?' A plump merchant wearing the fashions of Ostron Isle confronted her. 'What mischief are you up to — '
'Merofynians an hour away, probably less,' she shouted to be heard.
'What nonsense!' The Ostronite merchant glared at her, secure in his ermine-collared cloak.
'Send someone up to the top of the tower if you don't believe me.'
A silver-haired woman entered, with three burly male servants at her back. 'What's holding… Piro Kingsdaughter, what are you doing here?'
'Markiza,' Piro gasped, letting the bell rope go. 'Is the markiz with you? You must get out of the town.' The Ostronite merchant stared at Piro. 'The kingsdaughter? The one that's wanted for treason?'
'The same. Servants, hold her,' the markiza ordered, ignoring Piro's warning. Three men thrust past the Ostronite.
'That was a misunderstanding,' Piro insisted. 'Today I've been sent to Sylion Abbey, ask Captain Temor. But there's no time. The Merofynians are just outside the town. Go to the top of the tower yourself, if you don't believe me.' Frustration made Piro stamp her foot. 'Would you hand everyone over to the Merofynians?'
'At least send someone to see,' the Ostronite merchant urged.
The markiza tapped one of her servants on the shoulder. 'Go to the top of the tower. Quickly now, and tell me what you see.'
As he hurried off, Piro tried to dart under the nearest man's arm and through the door.
The markiza caught her by the shoulder. 'Not so fast, kingsdaughter.'
The two servants held Piro between them.
'But I must warn Captain Temor!' Piro insisted.
'You're not going anywhere until I know what's going on,' the markiza told her.
Piro rolled her eyes.
A muffled shout echoed down the stairs.
'What was that?' the markiza called up the stairwell, thrusting the door further ajar.
'I see nothing but low-lying mist.'
'Because their Power-workers are cloaking them,' Piro snapped. 'That's why our lookouts didn't spot them.'
The markiza frowned. 'Then how could you — '
'I have Affinity. That's why I was being sent to Sylion Abbey.' Piro told the truth. It no longer mattered.
The markiza's eyes widened. 'If the Merofynians are at the gates — '
'I knew I should have left when I first heard the news,' the Ostronite merchant moaned.
Both Piro and the markiza ignored him. She nodded to her remaining servants. 'Help sound the warning bells.'
'I don't know the sequence, markiza,' the younger servant protested.
'I do. Set me down!' Piro shrugged free of the servants. 'I'll need two of your servants, markiza.'
'Take them.' She caught Piro's arm. 'Have you seen my son, Chandler? Last I heard he'd joined Byren Kingson's honour guard.'
Piro gulped. Clearly, Cobalt's accusations and her father's subsequent banishment of Byren had not reached the townsfolk and now was not the time to explain. 'Byren's honour guard set off three days ago. Chandler must be with him by now.'
'Set off for where?'
'Dovecote estate.' Right into the path of the invading Merofynians. 'I…'
'He will do what's right. He's a good boy. May Halcyon watch over him. May she watch over you, too, little Piro.' The markiza tapped the Ostronite merchant's arm. 'Now I must see to my family's investments. Come.' They hurried off.
Piro turned back to the servants. It took two sequences, but they caught on to the simple system. Soon the bells rang out their warning at the proper pace.
Piro's head pounded and her body thrummed with the effort of leaping and tugging on the great bell ropes. But she'd spent so much time hiding recently that it felt good to be active.
Byren lifted his head as the dreaded ulfr howl echoed across the frozen lake. Snow flakes kissed his face, falling lightly from low-slung clouds. Somehow he'd kept skating. He'd stuck to the lake shore, so he hadn't made good time. Had the snow been thicker he might have risked skating directly across the lake. But the Merofynians were after him. He had heard their hunting horns. Had he been organising this search he would have separated his men into small groups. They knew he was injured and, by now, they knew he was on foot. He hoped that they would be searching on the land but he would have had his men search the lake. So he had to assume his pursuers were just as canny.
Though desperate, he had deliberately avoided the farmhouse where he'd eaten breakfast, not wanting to bring trouble down on the family there. Hopefully, they had already packed up their things and headed for the nearest fortified town. So he was injured and alone, with half a dozen Merofynian search parties tracking him. His only advantage was that he knew the area intimately and they didn't.
Since he was twelve he'd been as big as a grown man and his body had never failed him. It must not fail him now.
He'd felt certain he would reach Rolenhold before this wound stole his life force. Until now…
Now the ulfr pack was on the prowl. At least the Merofynians would be equally reluctant to meet up with the pack. But the ulfrs would smell the blood on him for sure. They'd hunt him, a single injured man. The only thing that appealed more to them was… an Affinity seep!
Without hesitation he struck out for the spot where he'd come across the Power-worker and Dinni. He hoped she was safe at Sylion Abbey by now. This was not a good time to be wandering the Rolencian valley.
Head down, powerful thighs driving him on, he winced with every breath. Grey spots ate into the corners of his vision, but he would not give in.
Lifting his head, he took note of the landmarks, shrouded in winter snow but still clear to his experienced eye. This was where he'd fallen and ploughed through a drift into a little inlet. Already the wind and snow had smoothed his passage so that others would have trouble reading the signs. He weaved through the gap in the snow drift and headed for the shore. There he unstrapped his skates and ploughed up the slope, being careful to smooth the signs of his passing.
There it was — the seep, still oozing Affinity since he had removed the sorbt stone before it could fully drain the source. Since childhood he had been trained to avoid untamed Affinity. Now he meant to hide in an Affinity seep, and every proper instinct revolted.
He hesitated on the lip of the hollow. It was empty. Had the Utland Power-worker survived the night, and what had happened to his warrior escort?
Another howl reached him, closer this time. No more delays.
He had no choice. It was the seep or death.
Praying the falling snow would finish cloaking his steps from his mortal pursuers, he plunged down into the hollow. With no Affinity to sense it, he remained blind to the power surge, but his heart raced with reluctance as he sank into the deepest part of the hollow and began to scoop out a body-length depression. The exertion made him
