'Sure you don't want any?' He tried to tempt Orrade, who shook his head. At least he was still aware. That was good.
Byren forced himself to eat, leaving plenty in case Orrade was hungry later, then turned in. On a major canal during midwinter, this close to Rolenton there was not much chance of a predator attacking their snow-cave, so he did not bother to keep watch. He had made sure their snow-cave was hidden in a fold in the canal bank. Unless someone was looking specifically for them, it would be hard to find. Still, he slept lightly, a warrior's sleep.
Several hours later he rolled awake, on alert. Though he could not see the stars he guessed it was near midnight. A dull blue luminescence came through the arc of the snow-cave roof, a pale imitation of the stars' brilliance.
What had woken him?
There it was again, the softest squeak of snow being moved. He stared at the snow-cave entrance which he'd packed shut to retain their body heat. Snow shifted and fell in. Something, or someone, was trying to get in.
Byren left his blanket roll and crept around until he was beside the closed opening, drawing his borrowed hunting knife. A hand poked through, followed by a head and shoulders. Byren grabbed the intruder and hauled him onto his back, knife at his throat.
'Arrgh!' Garzik gasped. 'It's me, only me.'
'Garza?' He released him. 'What are you doing here?'
The boy brushed off snow and crouched on his heels, warming his hands over the coals in the brazier. 'Looking for dinner. I had to run off without food or cook would have told father.'
'Garza?' Orrade surfaced, turning towards their voices. 'You ran away from Dovecote?'
'Don't sound so disapproving. Father disowned you.'
'Why are you here?' Byren tried again.
'I've come to serve on the king's honour guard,' Garzik announced.
Byren snorted. 'You have to earn the right to serve on the honour guard. A boy of fourteen is no — '
'Nearly fifteen. Besides, I've killed a wyvern — '
'Freshwater,' Orrade qualified.
'True,' Garzik admitted. 'But I saved you both from the ulfr pack, killed two — '
'It's not all about killing,' Orrade told him.
Garzik silently appealed to Byren.
'Well, you're here now,' he said, replacing the pot on the brazier. 'Let's get you fed. We can decide tomorrow if you go back.'
'I'm not going back.'
'Father will disown you,' Orrade warned. 'He'll make Elina his heir.' He grinned ruefully. 'He should. She'd do a better job than either of us.'
Garzik rolled his eyes.
'Don't roll your eyes at me,' Orrade snapped.
Byren dropped the ladle in the pot. 'What did you say?'
Orrade gestured to Garzik. 'I might be disowned but I am still his older brother and I — '
'By Halcyon, you can see!' Byren fumbled in his pack for the lamp and lit it.
Orrade winced at the light, turning away, then realised what he had done. 'I can see and my head's stopped hurting.' He sat up, blinking slowly as though testing his sight. 'There's some grey spots floating across my vision but I swear, I can see!'
Garzik threw himself on Orrade, hugging him fiercely. Byren watched, his own joy tempered because he feared Orrade's sight wasn't permanently restored. He didn't like the sound of grey patches moving over his vision.
'Now everything's all right.' Garzik sat back on his heels. 'We can both swear loyalty to King Rolen and next time you teach spar raiders a lesson, I'll come too!'
Byren grimaced. If only life were that simple. He was going home with the threat of his supposed association with the Servants of Palos hanging over him. All it would take was a slip of Garzik's tongue to land him in trouble. How would his father react? He wasn't called King Rolen the Implacable for nothing.
He should send Garzik back to Dovecote estate.
Garzik grinned at Orrade. 'Now that you can see, you can perform some deed of bravery and win a title and estate of your own!'
'Don't you care that I'm like Palos?' Orrade demanded.
Garzik laughed. 'You're still my brother.'
Orrade smiled, and shook his head in wonder, making Byren realise he couldn't send the lad back, even if he would go.
Garzik glanced his way. 'And Byren is still the finest warrior I have ever seen.'
Orrade snorted. 'And you've seen so many. But Garza, it's not true. Byren only claimed to own the pendant to try and save me from father's wrath.'
Garzik turned awed eyes to Byren. 'You did that for Orrie?'
He shrugged this aside. 'Come and eat. Truth be told, I didn't even think, just reacted.' No, if he'd given it any thought he would never have put himself in this position. Shouldn't have had to. Orrade and his stupid pendant.
Byren summoned a smile as he passed the boy a bowl of reheated dinner. 'Here, have this. We should be at the castle by lunchtime tomorrow.'
'Good.' Garzik accepted the bowl. 'Piro will get such a surprise.'
'No more picking on her,' Orrade told him, watching his brother fondly as he gulped down the strew. 'Piro Kingsdaughter is nearly a woman now, and won't want to play silly childish games.'
'Since when?' Garzik challenged.
'Speaking of my family.' Byren cleared his throat. Time to deal with unpleasant truths. 'I'll have to tell mother and father that you've been disinherited, Orrie. It would be wrong to let you eat at their table without letting them know.'
Orrade nodded. 'I've been thinking. They don't need to know the details. I'll tell them it's between father and I. That's true enough. I'll offer King Rolen my sword. I've always liked Captain Temor.'
Byren nodded. Temor had served his father since the Merofynian war and trained them all when they were boys. He would probably accept Orrade, but it would be a big drop from Dovecote heir to one of the king's honour guard.
Piro shifted from foot to foot, trying to contain her impatience. She was terribly disappointed, and the scent of glues and stiffeners used to create the milliner's elaborate head-dresses made her feel dizzy. Maybe, if she inhaled deeply several times in a row, she'd look sickly enough for her mother to cut the shopping short. Could she manage a believable faint?
She thought she could fool the milliner but not her mother. Queen Myrella knew how good she was at play acting. If only the milliner had sent a message to say that the hercinia feathers hadn't arrived yet, then she wouldn't have come shopping. She hated being polite and having to mind her manners. But it had seemed worth it to see feathers that glowed in the dark.
Because the hercinia birds were so rare they had almost died out and her father had banned the use of their feathers for all but royalty. Not that Piro wanted a head-dress adorned with hercinia feathers, no, she just wanted to see them for herself to discover if they were as brilliant as the feathers of her own pet foenix. Privately she doubted that any bird, Affinity or otherwise, could be as handsome.
While the milliner fitted her mother's new head-dress for the midwinter ceremony, Piro gazed out the window into Rolenton Square. She could just see the base of the shop's sign.
A familiar profile, carried on broad shoulders, strode by.
Piro gasped. 'Byren!'
'Byren?' her mother echoed. 'Surely he hasn't brought the Royal Ingeniator back already?'
'It is Byren!' Piro dashed towards the door, throwing it wide open. Sure enough. There he was, unmistakable because he was so much taller than everyone else. And he was with Garzik as well as Orrade, so he must have gone on to Dovecote estate. They all wore packs on their backs, slung with skates.
