find her and kill her. She died trying to escape, trying to climb out a window.'
'That sounds like her. She had no fear of heights.' Fyn turned away, going to the casement window. It was too high for him to see out, but he did catch a glimpse of pale, winter-blue sky far above. Piro was dead, and he felt the terrible burden of guilt because he lived.
'She couldn't have harmed the overlord. She was only thirteen.' Bitterness choked Fyn, threatening to seal off his throat. 'Why kill her?'
'There was a prophecy. The overlord's Power-worker, Lord Dunstany, told Palatyne he would be killed by one of King Rolen's kin. So he ordered them all executed. He only let me live because I don't have a legitimate claim to the throne and I'm useful to him.'
That reminded Fyn of another seer's prophecy. The filthy old woman had been proven right. Halcyon Abbey had fallen, although it had seemed impossible back before midwinter. And Piro had died because of this Lord Dunstany's prophecy.
He had failed his little sister. He would not fail his cousin.
He turned to face Cobalt. 'I'm here to help you escape. We'll go to Byren in the mountains — '
'Byren's alive and hiding in the mountains?' Cobalt held Fyn's gaze, his dark eyes intense. 'You're sure of this?'
Fyn pulled the Fate from inside his vest, to show Cobalt the seashell-shaped stone. 'I saw it in the Fate, in a vision. We can find him and — '
Cobalt shook his head, mouth grim. 'I'm useless, Fyn, too weak to ride or skate. Don't waste your time looking for Byren, who may even now be dead. No. You owe your family blood payment. Palatyne murdered them. By the Rolencian warrior code your father held so dear, you must avenge their deaths.'
Of course — Fyn's head reeled. He hadn't been thinking straight. He must avenge his murdered kin.
'You must assassinate Palatyne. But you cannot challenge him,' Cobalt warned. 'He's a hardened warrior of forty summers and you are a boy who's not yet seventeen. A duel would only see you dead and your family left unavenged. No, you must get close to him, just as you got close to me. You must slide a knife between his ribs, or cut his throat. Only then will your mother and sister rest easy.'
Fyn nodded. Assassinate Palatyne. 'And then come for you?'
Cobalt's eyes widened.
Fyn hastened to reassure him. 'Don't worry. I can wait for you to get better before we go to Byren.'
'Can you find Byren using that stone?'
'The Fate?' Fyn lifted it, staring into its opalised depths. Could he find Byren with it? Probably, but dare he risk it? 'I'll find him. I must.'
'Good.' Cobalt sat up straighter, his whole body radiating determination.
He was a different man from the one who had lain on the bed when Fyn entered the room. Fyn had given his kinsman a reason to live. 'I won't let you down, cousin.'
'I'm sure you won't. But do not throw your life away when you kill Palatyne. You must come back safely to me or I will never find Byren. You understand?'
Fyn nodded.
Cobalt caught Fyn's arm with his good hand. 'Swear it will be so.'
It seemed unnecessary but… Fyn placed his free hand over his heart. 'I swear it will be so. If I live, I will come back to you and help you find Byren.'
His cousin nodded, satisfied, and let him go. 'Palatyne trusts no one. It will be hard to get near him.'
'Where does he sleep?'
'In the king's chamber, of course.' Cobalt snorted softly.
'Then I know how to get to him.'
'A secret passage?'
Fyn laughed. 'No, that's an Ostronite custom.'
Cobalt shrugged. 'Another thing. Whatever you hear, remember that I am with you. They hold me prisoner here so I may be forced to do things that make it appear as if I support the Merofynians, but I swear on my dead father's honour, my true loyalties do not lie with them.'
Fyn flushed. 'I will hold true to you. You're my blood kin, all I have left, other than Byren.'
'Halcyon bless you, Fyn!' Cobalt held out his remaining arm and, as they embraced, Fyn was careful not to bump his wound.
They parted.
'Pass me the tray,' Cobalt said. 'I must eat if I am to regain my strength.'
Fyn brought the tray to him, knowing that he had restored his cousin's will. And Cobalt had given him direction. Now that he had a goal, he felt he could achieve anything.
A grin parted his lips. He would fulfil Lord Dunstany's prophecy by assassinating the overlord.
Chapter Eighteen
Byren walked, driving himself on, senses alert for danger. Just because the ulfr pack hadn't attacked, didn't mean he and the boy were safe. There were other predators in the foothills of the Divide, especially at this time of year, when the beasts woke hungry from their winter sleep, while the ones that didn't hibernate were desperate, thanks to winter's lean pickings.
It was after dusk and the froth of stars lit the snow with a silvery-blue glow. The dyer's boy slept, draped across the pony's back. They hadn't stopped to eat.
For a while now Byren had been looking for a spot to stay the night. While he knew Rolencia's rich valley, and he had led punitive raids over the Divide, he did not know every nook and cranny of every foothill and ravine.
The pony stumbled, going down on both front knees. Rodien rolled off, waking with a startled cry. Tears of weariness made his eyes glisten.
Byren finally admitted it was time to make camp.
Scooping the boy up, he let the pony find its feet and trudged on. His wound tugged with every step, but he was no longer a dead man walking. That healer must have been skilled indeed for he had been growing steadily stronger each day. Now, though, he had to admit he needed rest.
No sign of a village or even a fortified farmhouse. Too bad. He could go no further. A huge evergreen, completely shrouded in snow, loomed ahead of them. Byren forged through its mantled lower branches to find an area near the great trunk that was sheltered from the outside. It was as large as a small cottage, with the trunk forming one central support. He put Rodien down and went back for the pony, leading it through the branches. The pony was happy to stop at last.
Byren turned back to the little lad. 'Eh, Rodien, are you a good climber?'
The boy stirred. 'The best.'
'Then clamber up this tree and make yourself comfy.'
'What about you?'
'I'll be right up.'
He boosted the boy to the lowest broad branch and then freed the pony from its sled traces and rubbed it down, slipping its nose bag over its head. Then he unhooked a blanket from their belongings and clambered up after the boy, helping him higher.
Rodien patted the huge trunk. 'It's like the pole of a big tent.'
'Eh, the snow protects the tree and us.' Byren rested his back against the trunk. 'We'll be safe up here.'
Rodien glanced down to the dim outline of the pony below, dark against the softly glowing snow. 'What if I roll over in my sleep?'
Byren opened his arms. 'I won't let anything happen to you.'
The boy snuggled up against his chest and Byren arranged the blanket over them both.
'You won't leave me, will you?' Rodien whispered.
Byren's heart turned over and he had to swallow before he could speak. 'Not until your brother returns.' He felt the little body relax in his arms, then stiffen.
