She knew them to be honourable men. They weren't part of her father's original honour guard but they both knew her by sight, so that ruled out approaching them herself.
The bald bully raised his voice again and gave the pregnant woman a shove. That decided Piro. She tapped a boy of about six on the shoulder and thrust the chicken into his arms.
'Give this to the guards. Tell them the bald man sent it.' She jerked her head towards the two who were still arguing.
The boy nodded and tucked the chicken under his arm. Piro watched as the guard received the chicken, glanced to the man and went over to settle the argument.
Piro smiled, because these were honourable men, they would not accept bribes.
She ran up the steps. Now there was just the guard at her mother's door, but when she got there she found he had left his post. Probably stepped out to relieve himself, knowing the others guarded the base of the tower.
'Mother?' Piro tapped at the door.
'Piro? What are you doing here? Where's the — '
'He's gone.' Piro gulped, her words rushing over themselves. 'Father's going to ride out to meet the Merofynian commander. Palatyne will kill him. I know he will. You've got to stop it.'
There was a moment's silence.
'Mother?'
'Listen, Piro.' It was Seela, her old nurse. 'Can you see the key?'
She glanced around. There was a tray, with what was left of the guard's breakfast right under the narrow window. 'No.'
And even as she said it, she realised it was pointless to worry her mother with Father's fate, when there was nothing the queen could do. 'I'm sorry. I — '
'Don't fret, Piro,' Seela told her. 'You can't be sure. Dream visions — '
'Piro?' her mother broke in. 'Run to the top of Eagle Tower. From there you can see Rolenton Square. And I can see the top of Eagle Tower from my window. If Rolen falls, signal me. Can you do that?'
'I can. I'll wave my smock,' Piro whispered. Perhaps there was something her mother could do. 'I'm going now.'
'Wait. Piro?'
'I'm still here.'
'If Rolenhold falls — '
'It'll never fall!'
'If the castle falls we'll need to negotiate surrender. Dress as befits a kingsdaughter.'
'If it comes to that I will,' Piro agreed, dismissing it as an impossibility. 'I'm going now.'
She turned and ran down the steps, pausing on the landing at the first-floor doorway. The altercation over the goat was still going strong, only now the bully was denying that he had tried to bribe the guards with a stolen chicken.
It was the work of only a few minutes to reach Eagle Tower. By the time Piro climbed to the top, her heart was pounding like a drum, but she wasn't hot and bothered. Instead shivers shook her body and her teeth chattered so that even clenching her jaw didn't stop them.
The castle's parapets were thick with people watching the confrontation, while a dozen castle servants had climbed Eagle Tower. Piro burrowed through them to get a viewing spot. They were all straining to see the king's party and no one paid her any attention. The family's banner, a flash of deep red on black, attracted her eye as her father and his companions rode into Rolenton's square. The large bonfire had burned down, only a thin finger of smoke rose on the air.
Overlord Palatyne waited astride his great black warhorse. The Merofynian banner stood behind him, stretched on two poles. Piro could just make out the shape of a rearing wyvern depicted in rich azure.
Her father rode out under a flag of truce. According to the code of war the overlord would threaten and bluster, while King Rolen would dare him to do his worst. They would trade insults, then the Rolencian party would ride back to the castle and wait for the warrior monks to arrive. That was how it should have gone, but Piro knew better.
Being so far away she could only read large actions. Overlord Palatyne gestured to his warriors. King Rolen gestured to the castle.
Movement drew Piro's eye to insect-like creatures which crept across the roofs of the houses that faced onto the square. Bowmen… silent assassins. Her mouth went dry.
Their presence might just be a display of strength.
But when they stood and drew their bows, notching arrows, she knew. A silent scream of warning drove the air from her lungs.
Overlord Palatyne gestured to the roof tops around the square. It was the same gesture his second amfina head had used in her vision.
She read defiance in her father's stance, defiance and contempt.
Tears stung her eyes. He would get his wish. King Rolen would die in battle.
Palatyne raised his arm. The arrows flew.
The king's chitin chest plate withstood the barrage, while around him his honour guard went down. The survivors drew swords and tried to engage the Merofynians, but Palatyne's swordsmen held back, letting the bowmen soften them up before they moved in.
King Rolen's horse reared as he signalled his remaining men. They formed a defensive circle around the banner, raising their shields. At this, the swordsmen rushed them, dragging the men from their mounts.
Piro's breath caught in her throat. At this distance she could only just hear the clash of metal and roar of voices. Her father and his men were like characters in a play as they fought on, hopelessly outnumbered.
Numbly, she watched the struggle. The Rolencian banner dipped, then fell. Finally, the fighting ceased. Men pulled back, wiping their weapons, leaving a litter of bodies. One man plucked something from amidst the fallen, then strode over to Palatyne to present the foenix banner.
The overlord swung it by the pole so all could see. He cantered his mount over to the still-burning remains of the bonfire, tossing the banner into the flames. His men cheered.
Piro's vision swam. Her father was dead. Hot fury seared away her grief. King Rolen had refused to use the foreknowledge her Affinity gave her. He had chosen to die. She was so angry with him she could have hit him.
And it struck her that, although she had not made the same mistake as her mother, her father had still died.
High on Eagle Tower, all around Piro the servants exclaimed, stunned and indignant.
Piro ran to the far side of the tower. Several courtyards over, the mourning tower's top floor was visible above the intervening roofs. Two pale faces peered from a window. Piro tore off her white maid's over-smock and waved it. Someone bumped her and the smock fell like a wounded bird, fluttering all the way down to the crowded courtyard below.
'Sorry,' a young candle-trimmer muttered. His eyes widened when he recognised her.
Piro pressed a finger to her lips and he nodded. She took off down the stairs.
She had to reach her mother and make plans. Rolenhold would not be taken.
The loyal warlords would come to their aid. Byren would bring back the abbey's warrior monks, and he and Lence would crush the Merofynians. They had only to shut Rolenhold's gates and hold out until help came. The people would be dismayed by Palatyne's treachery but they must not lose heart. What the castle needed now was strong leadership.
With all the confusion, perhaps she could steal the key from the guard and free her mother. Quick as thought, her feet carried her across the first courtyard, where she heard the cries of despair and outrage as the news of the king's murder spread. Many townspeople wept openly and it struck Piro that they had loved her father.
With their reaction came understanding. The Merofynian overlord had broken the code of war and killed King Rolen, to break the will of Rolencia, but he would not succeed.
By the time Piro reached the courtyard below the mourning tower, the news was already ahead of her and the townsfolk lamented loudly. Piro's hands closed in fists, nails biting into her palms. She wanted to shake the townsfolk. All they had to do was remain resolute and wait for help. Now was the time for her mother to prove her
