The sight of the ugly wound made Elina wince, but she began to sponge the blood from around it, picking long strands of matted hair out of the way.
She had cleaned the area by the time the healer arrived. Byren watched the old nun check the wound, then test Orrade's sight by holding a candle in front of him, trying to detect movement or response to light.
One of Sylion's nuns, the healer had been with the family since the lord brought home his first wife. Willowtea had helped with the births of their four children, seen them through their childhood illnesses, then laid out their crushed bodies when three of the sons were returned from the battlefield. The eldest, who had been executed as a Servant of Palos, had been buried in an unmarked grave. When the old lord's second wife had died giving birth to Garzik, Willowtea had laid out her body. And now, after examining Orrade, there were tears in her eyes as she put the candle down, turning to them.
'You have Affinity, Willowtea, is there anything you can do?' Lord Dovecote asked.
'I can hasten healing, my lord, but I cannot change what will be,' Willowtea whispered. 'We will have to wait and see. He's been in contact with something odd — '
'Untamed Affinity,' Byren explained quickly. He didn't want to admit he'd pleaded with a renegade Power- worker to save Orrade's life. He would be tainted by association. 'There's a fresh seep up near the new tin mine.'
'That's the third in less than a year,' Elina whispered. 'The last time so many new seeps occurred was the summer the Servants of Palos tried to assassinate King Byren the Fourth.'
There was a moment's charged silence.
'Aye, seeps sprouted like sores on a diseased body that summer,' Willowtea whispered, then gave herself a shake and turned to Byren. 'So you stumbled into one?'
'While hunting a lincis. The seep was what attracted the ulfr pack down from the Divide.' Byren swung to face the old lord. 'That's where Captain Blackwing is, in the foothills, hunting down the pack.'
'Now is not the time for tales of hunting,' Elina announced. 'We need to get a clean bandage on Orrie and put him to bed.'
'What about some food? I'm starving,' Orrade insisted. 'I'm blind, not dead you know.'
Elina gave an unsteady laugh and glanced to the healer, who nodded.
'Garzik and I will raid the pantry,' Byren offered, hungry despite everything.
Twenty minutes later, he and Garzik came back upstairs with a plate of cold meat, cheese and a slice of fresh-baked apple pie for Orrade.
They found Elina sitting with him, a shawl around her shoulders. 'Father and Willowtea have gone to bed. I said I'd wait up with him.'
Byren put the tray on the chest next to Orrade's bed. 'Cold food but fresh.'
'I'm not complaining.' Orrade's fingers sought the plate. Byren had to stop himself from offering to help. No one spoke as Orrade found a slice of lamb roast and lifted it to his mouth.
'I'll sleep in here tonight,' Garzik announced. 'Orrie won't want his sister waiting on him.'
Elina smiled, then leant over the bed to brush her lips on Orrade's forehead. 'I'll be in first thing tomorrow.'
He nodded, feeling for the right end of the knife to cut the cheese. Byren found it painful to watch. He should have thought ahead and chopped it up. Not that Orrade would thank him for that.
'Sleep well, Orrie.' Byren opened the door for Elina and walked out into the hall with her. 'Where are the upstairs servants?'
'The old ones are asleep in the attics.' Elina's dark eyes twinkled, reflecting the candlelight. 'They snore so badly we do without their services in our bed chambers. As for the young ones…' Colour crept up her cheeks. 'Father has been laying down the law, saying who can marry who, that sort of thing. Why would they stay when they know they can work for wealthy merchant families who won't interfere with their lives and pay them twice as much?'
'It's the same everywhere,' Byren agreed. Though they didn't have those problems at Rolenhold because of his mother's tact. He opened the door to Elina's bedchamber. She slipped inside. It was cold and dark. He didn't want to leave her alone like this. 'I'll make up the fire for you.'
'Thank you.' She went to light the candle on the mantelpiece.
Her gasp surprised him and he looked up in time to see her suck her knuckle.
Springing to his feet, Byren caught her hand, turning it to the light. 'You're hurt?'
'It's nothing. A hot wax burn. Oh, Byren!' She bit back a sob.
He reached out to console her but she surprised him, running to the door, closing it so that no one would hear her cry. Resting her forehead on the door, she sobbed silently.
Byren couldn't stand it. He came up behind her, taking her shoulders in his hands, feeling her slender frame shake. She turned in his arms. Murmuring her name, he brushed the tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. He kissed her forehead, her closed lids, her wet cheeks.
And suddenly she was kissing him.
He didn't know how it happened but her skin felt so hot and her lips tasted salty. She strained against him, desperate for comfort.
From a great distance, one small part of his mind said,
He wanted to ignore it, but… gulping a breath, he lifted his head, forcing himself to pull back. She came after him.
He stepped aside and pulled the door open.
She stared at him, unable to understand, lips swollen with his kisses, eye lashes matted with tears.
He knew if he stayed one moment longer he was lost and he didn't want to make love with her in pain and desperation. Unable to speak, he stepped out into the hall, swinging the door closed behind him.
In the cold dark he dragged in ragged breaths, then felt his way along to the door of the chamber he and Lence always shared when they came to stay. Only a patch of starlight lit the nearest bed. He stumbled to it and threw himself on the covers. He could still smell her on his skin. His body ached for her. He'd never sleep.
He woke the next morning wondering why he felt terrible.
Then it all came back to him and, still dressed in the clothes of last night, he splashed water on his face then stepped into the familiar corridor where he had spent so many happy times as a child. His boots squeaked on the polished floor. The stained-glass window at the far end sent streamers of coloured light up the hallway. Lovely. But in case of attack they'd have to retreat to the stronghold where he, Lence and Orrade had played at being warriors with Elina running after them wanting to join in. How they used to tease her.
He smiled. They had all dreamed of being great heroes. Not much chance of that now, not with the alliance plans his father had set in motion.
Yet… those grim, silent raiders troubled him. The spar warlords swore allegiance to King Rolen, but they were always looking for a weakness to exploit. He'd have to mention the raiders to his father and find out where they'd struck.
A soft step made him turn. Seeing Elina, his heart lurched and his body clenched.
Elina blushed, the memory of last night obviously uppermost in her mind, too.
'Oh, Byren, you're awake. You look like you slept in your clothes.'
'I did.'
She blushed and glanced down into her apron, which she had folded up to carrying something. A tendril of long black hair had worked loose from her plait and it moved with each quick breath as if it had a life of its own. It fascinated Byren. He longed to lift it aside and take up where they had left off last night. He dare not move.
The silence stretched.
Then her apron gave a whimper and she laughed, opening its folds to show him three liver-coloured retrievers. They looked no more than two weeks old. The puppies squirmed over each other, eager and bright- eyed.
'Regal's had her pups so I'm bringing them for Orrade to see. I mean…' Her face crumpled, chin trembling as she closed her eyes, fighting tears.
Byren wanted to take her in his arms. He knew how she would feel and longed to explore the heat of her lips. With a start, he realised he wanted to do nothing more than hold her forever and protect her, yet he could not save
