Dunstany's eyes narrowed and she wondered if she had overdone it, but Palatyne stood her up and slapped her bottom. 'She'll do.'
'Then she is yours, my overlord.'
Piro thought she caught the edge of anger in Dunstany's voice, but Palatyne was unaware of it. Strange, now that she knew she had only one more day in the noble scholar's company she felt lost. But she must not despair. Soon she would be part of the royal household and one step closer to avenging her family.
'There is still the matter of that other gift you promised me,' Palatyne remarked.
'Seelon, bring me the jewellery box from my travelling chest,' Dunstany instructed, before switching back to Merofynian. 'I have a most cunningly wrought assassin's ring for you, overlord.'
Piro brought the jewellery box across and held it open as Dunstany sifted through chains, both silver and gold, uncut stones and semi-precious stones, some loose, some set in brooches or pendants. Finally, he selected a ring. 'Put the rest away, Seelon.'
Palatyne's eyes gleamed.
Piro recognised the ring. It had been her mother's and, as Dunstany slid it onto his little finger, she recalled her old nurse showing her how to slip her thumb nail under the stone to flip it up and reveal a small hollow made for secreting poison.
'A pretty stone,' Palatyne remarked, glancing in Piro's direction. She pretended to be busy putting the jewellery box back in the chest.
'Aye. So it appears,' Dunstany said. 'Seelon, take the tray back to the cook.'
She knew that once she was gone the noble scholar would prepare the poison and hide it in the ring. And, sure enough, by the time she returned, their deadly business was finished. The overlord looked pleased, and the ring was on his little finger, a secret messenger of death.
King Merofyn's death.
Although Piro understood the forces that drove Dunstany to betray his king, she was still disappointed in him.
Palatyne raised his glass one more time. 'To King Merofyn. What a pity he will take sick and die on my wedding day!'
Dunstany raised his glass and sipped his wine, and Palatyne left them.
Piro cleared up the wine bottle and glasses.
'Leave that. Palatyne has an eye for a pretty face and I feared this might come to pass.' Dunstany sat down at the desk and beckoned. He indicated she was to sit on the bunk. 'I know your secret, girl.'
Piro froze. If Dunstany knew who she was, her life was forfeit. He'd sold out his king. He would not hesitate to hand her over to Palatyne.
'You are very clever, girl. I've suspected for a while, but today confirmed it.' He smiled gently. 'You speak Merofynian.'
Relief rushed her.
'Listen to me, Seela. Palatyne has a little Affinity. It is why he is so suspicious of everyone.' Dunstany grinned with black humour. 'He senses that no one likes him and they all wish him dead.'
'And he's right!'
Lord Dunstany laughed then grew serious. 'You are fated to walk a dangerous path, Seela. I want you to be my eyes and ears in the royal court. As Isolt's slave you will be able to go where I cannot.'
It was a dangerous task he asked of her but, her gaze went to the amber pendant hanging on his chest, it was a task she dared not refuse.
In the middle of the snowy clearing Byren settled himself with his back to a rock and prepared to rest. Late winter sun touched his face. Offering little warmth, it made the world beyond his closed lids glow red-gold. Opposite him, Leif uttered a soft snuffling sound and Byren cracked one eye open to discover the lad had fallen asleep sitting up. He grinned. Poor boy, he never complained, but they'd been pushed, going back over their trail several times to escape detection.
Florin was off attending to nature's call. She'd said they could reach the camp by midnight tonight or, if they rested overnight, tomorrow morning. They'd decided to take it easy, so they were in no rush and he was grateful for the chance to catch his breath. He must not appear before the loyalists weak and light-headed with weariness.
How could he inspire confidence if he couldn't string a sentence together?
The foothills were dangerous this time of year and they'd been lucky to get this far without trouble. But Orrade had spotted some ulfr spoor and he wanted to make sure the pack wasn't headed towards their people at the camp. Truth be told, Byren felt uneasy about confronting the pack, if it was his pack.
He snorted softly to himself. There he was again. Thinking crazy thoughts. But he could not deny he lived because the ulfr pack had saved him, twice. And so he was torn between needing to defend the loyalist camp, and letting the ulfrs go about their business in peace.
Normally he would only hunt them if they attacked farms.
A soft squeak of compacting snow reached him.
'Eh, Florin. Take a look at Leif.' Byren muttered, not bothering to open his eyes.
A huff of warm breath brushed his cheek. Was Florin about to kiss him? His lids lifted.
Not Florin…
Instead, the pack leader looked deep into his eyes. Byren inhaled and identified the ulfr scent. It was so familiar now it hadn't triggered any warning bells. He lifted one hand to caress the creature's thick neck ruff. 'You startled me.'
The creature whined.
'No. I don't need your help, but you'll need mine if you hang around here. Orrie will have a hunting party out after you in no time.' He gave the beast a shove and let his arm drop. 'You need to lead the pack up into the mountains now, it's almost spring cusp.'
The ulfr nudged his hand with its muzzle, much the way his hunting dogs back at the castle would when looking for food or a pat. 'No, we're nearly out of food. Nothing much to eat now, until we reach camp. And you — '
A ferocious yell made the ulfr spring around, light as a cat, while Byren scrambled to his feet.
Florin charged out of the trees, swinging a branch.
Instead of running like any sensible ulfr would, this one held its ground, between her and Byren. Leif gave a yelp of fright and scrambled away. The ulfr cast him one swift look, then went back to growling at Florin.
'Get away from it, Leif. Back off and come around behind me,' she ordered. Then she raised the makeshift club higher and gave another yell. 'Be off with ya, beastie.'
The ulfr didn't budge.
Byren let out a sigh and climbed to his feet. The ulfr was protecting him from Florin, while she tried to protect him from it. What had he done to deserve this?
'Put the stick down, Florin.'
She pulled Leif closer and thrust him behind her. Never dropping her gaze from the ulfr. 'No.'
It struck Byren that she would be like this with her children, protective and dangerous, and he had to admire her. But not right now. 'You're making yourself a target, Florin.'
'But — '
With another sigh, Byren walked past the ulfr, giving it his back, much to Florin's consternation. The Affinity beast did not attack. Nor did it lope off.
Byren came right up to Florin and took the branch from her grasp, though she did not give it up without some resistance.
'That thing was about to tear your throat out.'
'No, that's not what you saw.' Byren sent the makeshift club spinning off into the trees and turned to face the Affinity beast. 'It's over. Go on, be off!'
The ulfr hesitated, then trotted towards the tree line. At the edge of the clearing it paused, looking back this way. Several more of the beasts came out of hiding, edging closer to their leader. The ulfr gave a soft barking cough and the pack melted into the pines.
Byren sagged with relief. Without meeting Florin's eyes, he strode back to their camp and collected his
