Dunstany smiled this time.
Piro felt a surge of joy, then a tug of sadness. She wasn't going to see the noble scholar any more after this morning.
How long before they left? It looked as though they were nearly ready. It would be easy to hide in Rolenton, for she knew every lane.
Dunstany sighed and she looked a question at him. He waved a hand to the candles. 'Do you like the scent?'
She inhaled deeply and smiled. 'Starkiss. It's beautiful.'
'Did you know the monks and nuns make dreamless-sleep from the pollen of the starkiss? Dreamless-sleep brings relief from pain, but like all powerful things it can be used to harm as well as help. Combined with another drug, which I will not name, it can be used to bring on hallucinations. Knowledge is power.' His deep voice dropped to an intimate timbre. 'Have you seen one of these before? It is called amber.'
Picking up a stone with the metal tongs, he held it near the candle. The flame glowed through the stone's translucent surface, rich and alive. Piro came closer, drawn by the amber's beauty. There was an imperfection… no, something was trapped in the stone.
'This is a jewel now but long ago it was sap, dripping from a tree,' he said softly. She could almost see it happening. 'A little creature crawled into it, became trapped and was encased in the amber. That little creature was you.'
She blinked and the dark spot resolved its shape. She saw herself in miniature, flowing black hair, naked limbs tinted gold by the honey-coloured amber, suspended forever in a dreaming state.
Piro gasped and pulled back, heart hammering, skin clammy.
Dunstany slid a fine gold chain through the ring that was clasped to the piece of amber and hung it around his neck. 'Your untrained Affinity makes you vulnerable, Seela. I have captured a small but vital part of you now, some would call it your soul. So don't be thinking of running away, for you are mine until I release you.'
Dunstany rang the bell for Soterro.
Piro stared at him. He'd known what she was thinking, or he'd guessed. She'd been right to fear him. He was too powerful, too cunning.
Fool. She should have run when she had the chance.
Now she was trapped!
When the door opened, Dunstany told Soterro, 'Seela is ready to help with the packing and you won't need to watch her so closely. We have come to an understanding, haven't we?'
Piro nodded reluctantly, unable to banish the vision of herself trapped within amber.
Soterro led her back to the kitchen, where the cook was wrapping a leg of smoked lamb in calico.
'Grab a bun and a hot drink, then get to work, girl.'
She followed his advice, but despite her hunger the crusty bread had no taste. How could she had been so stupid as to underestimate the noble Power-worker?
Soon the soldiers had finished and ridden off in all but the last cart. The cook had cleaned out all the store of preserved food and the last of his cooking utensils were being stacked in baskets on the kitchen table when Soterro returned.
'Palatyne's commandeered a merchant's boat-sled so we'll be riding to Port Marchand in comfort. The lord's overseeing the loading of his precious cargo right now. He wants a bite to eat before we leave.'
'But everything's packed.'
Someone knocked at the back door and Piro answered it. Her old nurse held a tray of hot pies.
Seela beamed. 'Apple and blueberry just as you ordered, and some rhubarb too.'
'That was good timing.' The cook stood. 'Put the kettle on, girl.'
Piro filled the kettle and put it over the grate, while Soterro took a slice of pie to Dunstany. As soon as the cook went off to get the coins Piro slipped over to her old nurse.
'Good news!' old Seela whispered, pulling something out of her apron pocket.
Piro gasped softly. It was Byren's leogryf-tooth necklace. So he lived. Or had he sent it before the ulfr pack got him?
'Only this morning a lad brought it to the castle, looking for Byren's honour guard. Byren's in hiding in the high country. I'll wait at the end of the lane. You slip out and I'll take you to him.'
Piro's heart lifted, then sank. 'I dare not. My master is a Power-worker and he has bound me to him using my Affinity.'
'A curse on him!'
Tears stung Piro's eyes as she clasped her old nurse's arm. 'I must stay until he frees me. But I want you to go and take care of Byren. Tell him — '
'Here's your coppers,' the cook announced, counting them out as he walked over. 'Your pies will come in handy. It will be hard to cook while travelling.'
Piro backed off a step, relieved that he had failed to notice her intense exchange with the supposed pie- seller. Her old nurse accepted the coins and sent Piro a look loaded with meaning as she left.
Soterro returned. 'My lord's pleased. He says the pie is fit for a king!'
Piro hid a grim smile and finished making the hot drink. Byren was safe in the high country and Fyn… She shuddered to think of Fyn, trapped in Halcyon's Sacred Heart with the Mulcibar mystics waiting to pounce on him.
The hunting howl of an ulfr pack made Byren's gut tighten and fear sent a pulse of energy through his aching limbs, empowering them. But the sensation of renewed vigour was illusory, for even this short journey had exhausted him.
'Kingson?' The boy looked up to him, eyes wide.
'It's all right, Rodien. I'm with you,' Byren told him.
They were alone, since the dyer had gone to check the path ahead. Byren looked up at the sky through the snow-cloaked evergreens. Nearly midday. The thaw was late this year, as though Sylion did not want to release his hold on Rolencia. That's why the ulfr pack was desperate.
The pony shifted uneasily. Byren caught the reins and put a hand on the beast's muzzle to soothe it. He carried no weapon other than a hunting knife. A flash of silvery grey moved on the edge of his vision. Rodien edged closer, arms sliding around Byren's waist.
'See that tree.' Byren nodded to a winter-bare birch. 'Climb as high as you can. Whatever happens, don't come down.'
'Don't leave me.' Rodien clung to him, desperation lending him strength.
The boy was right. He'd never survive, alone in the woods. But Byren could not defend him on the ground. He caught Rodien under the arms. As he swung the lad up onto the pony his wound protested.
The old pony shifted uneasily.
Byren would have liked a sturdy branch to use as a club, but there were none lying conveniently near. Instead he drew his knife and led the pony in the direction the dyer had taken. The silver-grey form melted back into the trees.
'Where's Da?' Rodien whispered. 'I wants my da.'
Byren kept watching the surrounding forest. 'Up a tree, most likely. Safest place to be.'
'Why don't we climb a tree?'
'If we do, Blossom here's dead.'
Rodien's eyes widened.
The tone of the pack's cries changed and Byren knew they had cornered their prey.
Rodien shuddered, responding instinctively to the sound.
A ragged cry echoed through the still, snow shrouded evergreens, a man's despairing cry.
Byren hesitated. If he hadn't been injured and hadn't had the boy to protect, he would have gone to the dyer's aid. But he couldn't lead little Rodien into danger.
Besides, he knew by the sounds it was too late. The dyer had gone ahead to draw the pack away from them. He'd known what he was doing.
Byren turned the pony in the other direction.
Rodien did not argue. Eyes very wide, the lad clutched the pony's coarse mane.
