chins.
'More for dinner? That's easy for him to say,' Cook muttered in Merofynian, then asked Piro. 'So? What's going on?'
She glanced to the remains of the birds, stomach clenching and unclenching. They had almost been picked clean but…
The cook thrust the platter towards her and she began going through the bones for slivers of meat. 'It's the Utland Power-worker's brother — '
'We know that,' Cook snapped. 'Tell us something we don't know.'
'He's dead.'
They looked suitably impressed.
'Killed by an unleashed sorbt stone,' Piro supplied.
'I'll bet it was the Affinity-slave,' Soterro muttered. 'Can't keep an Affinity-touched person chained.'
The cook nodded wisely.
Piro shook her head. 'Lord Dunstany thinks not. He doesn't believe the slave could have snapped the sentry's neck without a fight.'
Their eyes widened.
'What, what? Who's dead?' the kitchen boy demanded in Merofynian, unable to follow more than the rudiments of Rolencian.
As the cook explained, Piro polished off the birds. She had only just washed her hands when the bell from the dining room rang.
Piro stood up but Soterro beat her to it, eager to hear the latest news while serving his master and guest. When he left, the cook and kitchen boy fell silent, straining to hear, but could only detect the murmur of voices. Soterro returned a few minutes later looking slightly flustered.
'How did the Utlander take it?' Cook whispered.
'He's furious. Thinks there's an enemy Power-worker wandering Rolencia,' Soterro explained with relish. 'We'll need two more goblets, Seela. Hurry, girl. The overlord's here, too. Dinner settings for three, Grysha.'
At this, Cook began to fuss over the presentation of the food while Soterro made up another tray with glasses and more wine, a Merofynian white this time. Heart thudding, Piro watched him.
Palatyne was here…
All she needed to do was slip some hellsbane into his food to avenge her family. Only she didn't have any yet.
'The door,' Soterro snapped.
Piro hastened down the short hall to hold the door open so that he could back through with the tray. She caught a quick glimpse of the room beyond.
Palatyne and the Utlander stood in front of the fireplace with Dunstany. Palatyne had discarded his battle armour for a padded black velvet vest and silk shirt of royal azure, its long sleeves pinned up with brooches. He wore a circlet of silver with a blue topaz set in the centre of his forehead. He looked like a warlord, trying to look like a Merofynian noble. Someone had broken his nose and it lay flat against his face, making him seem pugnacious, but she knew how cunning he was.
But it was the Utlander who drew her eye. He bristled as he paced the floor, radiating fury and Affinity. Grateful to escape, she let the door swing shut and returned to the kitchen, where the cook and kitchen boy exchanged looks.
'Well?' Cook demanded.
'They didn't say anything. The Utlander's furious.'
'That Utlander…' Grysha shuddered and made the sign to ward off evil. Which struck Piro as odd, because their master was a renegade Power-worker, but somehow Lord Dunstany was much more civilised.
'It's Palatyne I dread. He'll want to punish someone for sure.' The cook wiped his hands on his apron. 'We must be sure the dinner's perfect.'
Piro helped them stack more cutlery and plates on a tray while the cook freshened up the garnishes.
Soterro returned. 'Time to serve up. Come along, Seela. Give the overlord the same courtesies you'd give royalty. He might be nothing more than the most vicious of the spar warlords, but he sees himself as a suitor to Isolt Merofyn Kingsdaughter.'
So Piro had no choice, she had to serve the overlord.
She and Grysha took a tray each and trooped out after Soterro, placing the food on the sideboard. Soterro sent the boy back but kept Piro with him, giving her a severe look that promised retribution if she brought shame on Lord Dunstany's household.
'…seems a renegade Power-worker roams Rolencia,' Dunstany was saying, 'one who is our enemy but has not, so far, sought us out.'
'Could it have been a simple case of theft? He saw an opportunity, took the Affinity-slave and the calandrius? One thing is for sure, it was not the abbey's mystics master,' Palatyne remarked. 'My men tossed his body into a ditch along with the rest of the abbey's warrior monks!'
Piro paused as she placed clean cutlery on the table before each man. The abbey's warrior monks were dead? Impossible.
Soterro nudged her to keep setting the table. Fresh cutlery was a Merofynian noble custom her father had not bothered with, preferring to use his knife and fingers, but her mother had schooled her in its use.
'Then you've heard from the abbey as well?' Dunstany asked.
Close as she was to the overlord, she could not help but notice Palatyne cast the Utlander a swift look, rather like one might at a trained but vicious dog. But it was not a look of fear so much as wary, sly amusement, as if Palatyne enjoyed baiting the Utlander.
'My strategy overcame the abbey,' the overlord announced, still watching the Utlander. 'Even without your brother. Cyena and Mulcibar's mystics, along with my men, had no trouble subduing Halcyon's monks, nothing but boys and old men left to defend the abbey. They didn't stand a chance.'
Nausea roiling in Piro's belly. Fyn dead. A rushing noise filled her head.
No. She would not give up hope. He might yet have escaped. Fyn was clever and fast.
Piro stepped back, into the shadows. Dimly, she was aware that a branch of candles lit the men's faces where they sat around the table, while she stood by the sideboard in shadow. No one noticed her sudden retreat, for Soterro chose that moment to display the white meat with its fruit garnishes. Dunstany nodded his approval and Soterro returned to the sideboard to serve the food.
'This renegade Power-worker must be stopped,' the Utlander muttered, 'before he — '
'Does what?' Palatyne demanded.
Soterro nudged Piro, who took the plate from him and placed it before the overlord. He shoved it towards the noble scholar, who took a small portion from the meat and vegetables and ate them.
Piro stared stunned. She was sure this was not a Merofynian custom. Then it hit her. Palatyne feared poison. Dunstany, as host, was proving there was no poison in the food from his kitchen. Just as well she had not used the hellsbane. She didn't want to kill Dunstany.
Did she?
'Halcyon's warrior monks are all dead and the abbey is ours,' Palatyne went on. 'Sylion's sluts are trapped in their abbey where we can deal with them when we are ready. All of King Rolen's kin are either dead or soon to be recaptured. Only Cobalt remains and he's a by-blow.'
'So they found the body of the other kingson, the one gifted to the abbey?' the Utlander asked.
Piro held her breath, waiting for the answer. Soterro nudged her to take the Utlander's plate to the table. Then she returned to Soterro, who had just finished serving up Dunstany's plate.
'They sent word the moment the abbey fell. His body will be there. Then I will have one more emblem to add to my collection.' Palatyne stroked the three foenixes.
When Piro placed Dunstany's plate before him, she was close enough to the overlord to recognise the locket with Isolt Kingsdaughter's portrait, which she had last seen on Lence's chest. Her oldest brother must be dead.
Betraying tears threatened. She blinked them away fiercely, telling herself it meant no such thing. Lence might have escaped from Palatyne after losing the locket. But if Lence had been killed, then surely Byren still
