waving the royal emblem around and demanding to see the abbot.
'The men realised he must be the missing kingson. They tell me he went as white as me when he found Merofynian warriors inside the abbey!' The mystic allowed herself a reptilian smile. 'They tried to grab him but he fought his way out, grabbed a horse and rode off. They managed to get the emblem. And they injured him. Badly. We sent the men after him. They followed his blood trail until they lost him. That night we heard an ulfr pack on the hunt. Then his trail disappeared along with his body.'
Sickened, Piro turned away. She could not see the pastries for the tears. To think Byren had reached the abbey, as he had promised to do, only to find Merofynians had laid claim to it.
'There was just one of him and dozens of my warriors. They should have killed him!' the overlord snapped.
'He's dead. The ulfr pack finished him off.'
'You don't know that for sure. I want his body. I need proof that he's dead or the Rolencians will spread rumours about him leading an uprising,' Palatyne growled at the mystic, who looked uncomfortable.
Palatyne gestured with frustration, snapping his fingers at another of her escort. 'Chase after that other fool. Let it be known through Rolencia that I'm doubling the reward for Byren Kingson's head and that of the priestly kingson.'
Piro nursed a flicker of hope. If Palatyne feared her brothers' survival enough to double the reward they still stood a chance. She would not give up.
The man left and Palatyne dismissed Cyena's mystic. When she had gone, he turned to Dunstany. 'See, Dunstany, I help myself. A man can trust a blade to do what it's told. This Affinity of yours twists and turns so much you never give me a straight answer.' He took a step closer, glaring at the old Power-worker. 'I know where your loyalties lie, noble scholar. But you forget, King Merofyn is a sick old man. He has promised me a dukedom if I conquer Rolencia in his name.' Palatyne laughed. 'But why should I settle for a dukedom when I could have a kingdom? I'll marry his daughter and — '
'She is already betrothed.'
'Lence Kingsheir is dead.'
'The second son, Byren, is the uncrowned king of Rolencia now and honour-bound to marry Isolt.'
'If he lives. If he can escape my men. If he can raise the warlords against me. If he can retake Rolencia.' Palatyne dismissed this possibility with a sharp movement of his hand. 'No, I am here and I am the conqueror of Merofynia's ancestral enemy. In three hundred years no one has managed to crush the Rolencian royal line. No one but me.' Palatyne tossed back the last of his mulled wine. 'I'll make King Merofyn an offer for his daughter that he can't refuse.' Palatyne's eyes narrowed. 'And if you want a place in the court of Emperor Palatyne the First, ruler of Merofynia and Rolencia, then you must prove your loyalty!'
Dunstany spread his hands. 'I am at your command, overlord.'
Palatyne's eyes narrowed. 'We will see.'
He thrust his goblet aside and strode out.
Piro sagged, dizzy with relief. Dunstany met her eyes across the room. They heard the overlord's boots on the apothecary's shop floor and the slam of the front door.
'Mark my words, Seela,' Dunstany said in Rolencian. 'Palatyne is a very dangerous man. He cannot be trusted, because he trusts no one. If he wins the throne, there will be no peace for Merofynia or anyone else. So where do you think Byren Kingsheir is?'
Piro went very still as she tried to remember what she was supposed to know. They'd spoken Merofynian so she wouldn't have understood anything but the names. She decided it was best to claim ignorance. 'A serving girl like me knows nothing of kingsons.'
'No, a serving girl wouldn't,' Dunstany agreed, watching her thoughtfully.
Piro felt decidedly uncomfortable. Maybe she should forget about poisoning Palatyne and run away before the noble scholar pierced her disguise.
Dunstany seemed lost in reverie. After a moment he took a deep breath and rang the bell for Soterro, who was so quick to arrive he must have been listening at the door.
If Dunstany suspected this, he did not betray it by so much of a twist of his lips. 'Soterro, tell Cook to pack. We leave tomorrow for Port Marchand, where we sail for Merofynia. King Merofyn is going to need my advice. And before you start packing, Soterro, lock Seela in the attic.'
Piro cursed silently. No more chances to poison Palatyne. Somehow, in the rush to leave tomorrow, she must escape.
Chapter Sixteen
Fyn's skates slowed as dawn's silvery light streamed across Rolencia's valley, illuminating first the highest peaks of the Dividing Mountains then the distant pinnacle where Rolenhold stood, making the castle's towers and domes gleam as if they were coated in electrum.
His heart swelled to fill his chest. Home, seat of his family, source of three hundred years of history.
He blinked away tears, focusing on the flags that hung from the towers. The high cold air was incredibly clear but the distance was too great for detail. It would take him half the day to get across the lake. However, he did not need to see the deep red foenix on its black background. He saw it in his heart.
In the still air a pall of smoke hung low over Rolenton and the docks were almost empty of ships. The wharves were always the weakest point of any fortified port yet he could see no encroaching army laying siege to the town. That had been his secret fear, that he would be too late and find the castle and town under siege. Luckily, he'd come in time to bring his father the bad news.
He set off across the lake with a will. He'd miss breakfast but he'd be there in plenty of time for the midday meal.
When Soterro finally unlocked her door, Piro was awake and ready for breakfast, stomach rumbling. She'd been waiting for ages. It was mid-morning.
'Lord Dunstany wants to see you,' Soterro said. She stood up. 'Bring your bundle, girl. I'm not your servant!'
When they reached the ground floor, Piro found Merofynian soldiers all over the place, packing things into crates and loading them onto carts outside. So much booty stolen from Rolencia. Indignation flooded Piro, but she also rejoiced. In all this confusion, escape would be easy.
The smell of warm cinnamon buns and freshly heated hot chocolate came from the kitchen, making her mouth water, but Soterro stopped at a door and opened it to reveal a small, windowless chamber opposite the dining room, the apothecary's workroom. Starkiss candles burned, their musky citrus scent heavy on the air.
The noble scholar looked up from his notes, an array of small tools laid across the desk in front of him. Piro recognised weights and the fine metal tongs of a jeweller.
'Off you go, Soterro, and see that those buffoons don't break anything,' Dunstany ordered. The door closed and Piro was left alone with him. His intense black eyes studied her. 'Do you know why King Rolen banned Power- workers from Rolencia?' He went on to answer his own question. 'Without the protection of the gods, their Affinity leaves them open to evil. In fact some actively seek out evil. I am not one of those. But I do know something of the sinister arts, for it is necessary to be able to recognise evil, to protect yourself. My enemies find me a very dangerous man. And I don't expect my servants to murder me in my bed.'
'The knife was not for you, sor,' Piro said quickly, ready now for his questions.
'Then who was it for?'
'For my own protection, my lord.'
'My servants are under my protection. No one will harm you.'
'Tell that to Grysha!' she snapped. 'His hands wander. I had to elbow him in the ribs once already.'
He looked surprised, then glanced down to hide the laughter in his eyes. Piro felt a little thrill of power because she'd made him smile.
When he went on, however, he sounded serious. 'I will speak with him.'
'I already did and he has the bruises to prove it.'
