After a few moments he heard the Merofynians pass on the other side of the tree, returning to the abbey.
'…all as thick as him they deserve to lose their kingdom!' the rude one was saying.
'Do you think he'll report it if he sees the kingson?' a different one asked.
'The kingson is most likely dead,' the spokesman said. 'No one could lose that much blood and keep going.'
'True,' the rude one agreed. 'And with the ulfr pack in the area, anyone travelling alone and injured doesn't stand a chance. No wonder we can't find his body. We're on a wild goose chase!'
Their voices faded, drowned by the rushing in Fyn's ears. When his vision cleared he was bent double, staring at the perfect snow in front of his nose. Wracking shivers shook him.
Byren was dead. At least, the Merofynians believed he was. Cheeky, laughing Byren. Kindest, most thoughtful of his brothers…
Fyn's heart felt as if it would break.
Determination drove him to his feet.
If Byren was dead, it was up to Fyn to carry news of the abbey's fall to their father. He set off, his resolve renewed by grief.
Chapter Eleven
Piro swayed. Standing high on the mezzanine floor, she had a perfect view of the tableau below. Like a play, the actors said their lines, but it was her mother they planned to kill.
'You cannot mean to murder the queen,' Cobalt objected. He glanced from the overlord to Piro's mother and back to the overlord. 'She can be used to unite Rolencia.'
'He's right, my lord.' Lord Dunstany proved an unexpected ally. 'She's a valuable kingdom piece, make use of her. She cannot harm you if you are back in Merofynia.'
'Oh, no?' Palatyne rounded on him. 'You're the one who foretold Rolen's kin would be my downfall!'
Dunstany went very still.
Palatyne rounded on the nearest warriors, the ones who had been so eager to burn the Rolencian emblem. He stabbed one hand in the queen's direction. 'Well?'
'Overlord?' Cobalt covered the two steps between them in one long stride, caught the man's arm and said something in an intense, low whisper. They were about the same height, but very different men. Despite his Rolencian birth, Cobalt had the bearing of an Ostronite aristocrat, from his perfumed curls to his high-heeled boots. The overlord was a barbarian from Amfina Spar, and no amount of gold or brocade could hide it.
Before Cobalt could finish, Palatyne threw off his restraining arm.
'You think to bargain with me, Illien of Cobalt, or should I call you the Bastard's son? That's why you betrayed them, your uncle and cousins, because your father was denied the crown. Prove your loyalty to me. Kill her yourself!'
Piro gasped. All along Cobalt has sworn his love for her mother, but Piro did not doubt that it was a self- serving love.
'Let me relieve you of this troublesome woman, overlord.' The little Utland Power-worker strutted closer. With each step his staff struck the ground and its carven tip flared as though eager to shed blood.
Piro's stomach cramped.
'No.' Palatyne seemed to be enjoying himself now. 'The Bastard's son can prove his worth.'
Cobalt took a step back from the overlord, which took him closer to the queen, who was right behind him. Piro noticed how her old nurse's hand rested lightly on her waist where Seela kept her dagger hidden. No one would expect death from a plump, silver-haired old woman but Piro had seen Seela use that knife to kill Cobalt's spy only a couple of days ago. Pride filled Piro, then her spirits plunged, for in a few heartbeats her mother and nurse would both be dead.
The very intensity of her gaze must have alerted Seela, for the old woman's eyes lifted as she looked through the forest of columns, up to the mezzanine floor. The nurse was not fooled by Piro's cloak. She went very still, then her hand dropped from her waist and she took a step back from the queen, abandoning Piro's mother to her fate.
'Well, lord protector of the castle?' Palatyne mocked Cobalt.
'Let me save you from this dilemma, Illien!' The queen sprang forwards, drawing Cobalt's own sword before he could react.
Piro's heart leapt. Here was a chance to run Palatyne through. Destroy the head and the body would fall, leaving the Merofynian army leaderless.
'Death to betrayers!' the queen cried, swinging the blade in an arc that was aimed to cut through the side lacings of Cobalt's chest plate, driving deep into his heart and lungs. But before it could drive home Cobalt reacted.
Though he was only half-turned towards her, he leapt, cat-light, out of her strike path. The queen let the sword's momentum carry her around in a circle, springing forwards and bringing the blade down in a diagonal blow that would have severed his head from his shoulders had he not darted sideways again.
The blow took him on the shoulder joint of his armour, slicing clean through, severing his arm. Stunned, he stood there, blood pumping from the stump. The queen continued the arc of the strike, bringing the great sword around for the killing blow.
Piro understood the problem. Her mother was a small woman. The weapon was almost too heavy for her to hold, once it had momentum she could only guide it.
This blow would have surely killed Cobalt, but one of Palatyne's warriors sprang in behind her, running the queen through. Pinned upright, she stood stunned as the sword flew from her hands. People dived out of its path. It clattered on the stone, loud in the terrible silence.
Piro whimpered.
Her mother stared at the blade which protruded between her breasts.
'Myrella?' Illien cried. He'd clamped his remaining hand over the stump of his arm, despite this, he bled copiously, swayed and dropped to his knees.
Piro's sight wavered from the Seen to the Unseen, triggered by the gathering of her mother's innate Affinity.
The queen stiffened. One hand lifted to point at Palatyne and her eyes rolled back in her head. 'You will die, knowing you have lost everything.'
Triggered by her mother's words, Piro saw Palatyne on his knees, the twin amfina heads writhing as one turned on the other.
'You will die at the hands of my children,' the queen said. 'Piro Kingsdaughter, I call on — '
'By the mother of all amfinas, she's radiating Affinity!' Palatyne came to life, springing back behind his advisors. 'Stop her before she can curse me!'
Before Dunstany could move, the Utland Power-worker swung the carved tip of his staff so that it connected with the tip of the sword that pierced the queen's chest. Unable to look away, Piro watched as the last remnants of her mother's Affinity-driven life force were drawn out of her into the staff's greedy stone tip.
The logical part of her brain told her that the carving had to be made from some kind of sorbt stone, something the mystics of Rolencia had not discovered yet, or perhaps kept a secret.
The Utlander tilted the staff upright and slammed its base into the floor. The carved tip glowed with power and the queen dropped like an empty husk, her essence and Affinity now the Utlander's captive.
Hollowed out, fragile as glass, Piro stepped back into the safety of a darkened archway. She wanted to run down the stairs and across the hall, and smash that stone so her mother could have a clean death, but that would mean her own death. She stood poised on her toes, outrage warring with self-preservation.
Common sense won out.
Palatyne straightened, daring to step closer to the fallen queen. 'She's safe?'
'Her Affinity's settled,' the Utlander confirmed.
