Piro nodded. She tried to hold back a yawn and failed. Now that she had eaten, she wanted nothing more than to fall asleep.
Isolt smiled. 'Sleep, Pi- Seela. I'll keep watch.'
Piro snuggled down, marvelling how her position had changed from slave to trusted confidante in just one day.
Dunstany had been right. Isolt was the innocent pawn of her father, King Merofyn. Piro had to let the noble Power-worker know Isolt's plans. They would pass his mansion on the way out of Port Mero. She could leave a message there. The sooner they were out of the palace and beyond Palatyne's reach, the better.
Byren woke to find his back felt cold. Where had Orrade gone? He sat up. The cave's ceiling glowed with reflected light from the snow outside. And it was silent, other than the snores of his honour guard and the several monks. After filling Catillum's cave, the newest arrivals had taken up residence in this one.
What if Orrade had felt another Affinity vision coming on? The monks would report it to the mystics master and his best friend would be unmasked, forced to leave Rolencia, just when Byren needed him most.
Whatever the cost, he had to protect Orrade. Heart thudding, Byren rolled to his feet, slinging his cloak around his shoulders. Carefully, he stepped over the sleeping bodies that were packed tight as a litter of puppies. It was like this in all the caves.
With his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the cave, outside the starlight seemed bright. He blinked and lifted his head, listening, smelling the crisp mountain air.
'Over here,' Orrade's voice reached him, no more than a whisper.
He headed that way and found his best friend just around the bend in the trail, wrapped in his cloak.
'What's wrong? Is it — ' Byren broke off, not wanting to speak of Orrade's Affinity when one of the monks might step outside to relieve himself and overhear them.
Without a word, Orrade turned and strode up the path. Byren followed. As they passed Florin's cave Byren glanced in, but it was too dark to see anything. Soon they left the caves behind and came to a spot where they would not be overheard by any lookouts.
Orrade turned to confront him. 'I didn't ask for this Affinity. I don't want it, I'd rather not…' He broke off and let his breath out in a rush. 'No, that's not true. It's been useful. I wouldn't have found you in that seep if I hadn't had the vision.'
'I'm sorry, I didn't know asking the seer to heal you would trigger Affinity.' No, but she had warned him Orrade would never be the same and he'd been too selfish to consider what this meant.
Orrade brushed his apology away. 'You did what you thought best and I'd be dead if you hadn't.' He turned away, strode to a flat stone, jumped onto it and kicked heaped snow aside, then sat with his back to a rock, staring out into the night.
Byren joined him. Shoulder to shoulder, arms resting across their raised knees, they stared out across the foothills. Amidst the pines, silhouetted winter-bare trees stood stark against the stars.
'I won't leave,' Orrade said softly. 'When Dovecote fell, Father's people looked to me to save them. I was half-mad with grief…' He took a shaking breath. 'You know what it's like.'
Byren nodded, unable to speak for the lump in his throat. But his grief was mixed with a bitter dollop of relief. With Lence gone he no longer walked on eggshells, trying to appease his twin, trying not to offend him, unwilling to see the man his twin was becoming.
Orrade rubbed his face vigorously, finally dragging his hands down over the wispy ends of his beard.
Byren shifted on the cold hard stone. 'I told you, when I'm king I'll rescind Father's law. You won't — '
'The abbeys won't like it. In the last thirty years they've grown in size. Every child detected with Affinity has been gifted to the abbey, along with a payment. Wealth and willing workers. How do you think the abbeys will react if you rescind your father's law?
'Also, while Halcyon's monks and Sylion's nuns are the only source of Affinity knowledge and control, they have the ultimate power over seeps, ceremonies, Affinity beasts — both the dangerous and the useful — not to mention protection from foreign Power-workers. You can see why they don't want the ordinary folk able to take care of these things themselves.'
Byren nodded, seeing why he needed Orrade's sharp mind. 'Although ordinary folk are glad enough to call on the abbeys for protection.'
'They used to handle the small things, up to a renegade Power-worker or a seep, by calling on someone from their own community who had Affinity. Ever since Florin's grandmother told us how it used to be, I've been asking other old folk,' Orrade revealed.
They lapsed into silence. Byren saw a shooting star and nudged Orrade. 'My wish.'
His friend grinned. 'What do you wish for, Byren?' His voice dropped, growing serious. 'If you could have anything you wanted, what would it be?'
Byren opened his mouth to say he wanted things back the way they were, Mother and Father alive, Piro and Fyn safe, Lence…
The smile left his lips. 'An end to this war with Merofynia. Me, the kind of king Rolencia needs. You, happy and safe from persecution.'
When Orrade said nothing, he glanced to him, noticing the sheen of unshed tears in his eyes.
'Orrie?'
His best friend shook his head and lifted his hands so that they hid his face. When he spoke his voice was the barest scrape of sound. 'Go back to bed, Byren.'
'I've offended you.'
'No.' His hands dropped and he stared away, so that all Byren could see of him was the line of his lean cheek and jaw, lightly dusted with a wispy black beard. 'No, you haven't offended me, quite the opposite. But you don't want what I want. And tonight I can't pretend I feel only friendship for you.'
Byren swallowed. 'You are my best and closest friend. I trust you with my life.'
Orrade nodded, voice thick. 'And I, you.'
'But it's not enough. I'm being selfish keeping you with me.'
Orrade snorted. 'I'm not going anywhere. The people of Dovecote need me.'
'I need you.'
Orrade let his breath out slowly. 'You can trust me, Byren. I'll never betray you.'
'I know.'
'Go now. I'll be down soon.'
Byren felt he should say something more, but… He came to his feet, adjusted the cloak and jumped off the rock. Orrade continued to look away, arms clasped tightly around his bent knees.
Alone.
If he could, Byren would, but he couldn't.
So he turned and walked away.
The next morning Piro watched as Isolt ordered servants about imperiously as they scurried to pack for her annual pilgrimage.
While the servants worked, Piro and Isolt took their breakfast on the veranda — fresh fruit, tiny sweet pastries, rich hot drinking chocolate. It was the kind of breakfast Piro had never known until she came here, the kind her mother had known until she came to Rolencia to live.
Isolt had told the servants her clumsiness broke the window, and an industrious youth was repairing it while they ate.
'Nine days until spring cusp,' Isolt said. They were both aware of their audience. 'I'm looking forward to it. We'll travel slowly so it will take several days to walk to the abbey.'
'Walk? Can't we ride or sail?'
'Walking is part of my penitence. I am allowed servants and several donkeys to carry the tents and provisions, but we all walk. As Isolt Merofyn Kingsdaughter, I represent the land and her people. I go to plead with the Goddess Cyena to free us from her cruel, wintry grasp, or the farmers won't be able to sow their crops.'
This talk of a wintry goddess confused Piro, who was used to the Goddess Halcyon ruling over summer.
'Don't worry, Seela.' Isolt gave a determined smile. 'We will reach Cyena Abbey safely.' The unspoken — and then we'll both be free, you to go home, me of Palatyne — reverberated between them.
Isolt selected some choice slivers of fruit. 'Now, let's see if the foenix will take the food from my fingers.
