says his son's Affinity came on him at fifteen. How can Affinity suddenly appear in someone who has shown no sign of it?'
'We are still discovering the ways of Affinity, kingson,' the castle Affinity warder admitted.
'But we know this much,' the mystics master said. 'If it doesn't show by the time a child is six years of age, it may surface at times of life-changing events, the birth of a child or escape from certain death.'
'Could a healer with Affinity accidentally trigger Affinity?' Byren asked, getting to his real question at last.
The Affinity warder glanced to the master.
'According to the abbey records this hasn't happened for a hundred and twenty years,' he said. Eyes that were far too keen fixed on Byren. 'Why do you ask?'
'Just curious.' Byren quickly thanked them and backed off, his worst fears confirmed. He would have to watch over Orrade and make sure no one realised his friend now had Affinity. If they were lucky it would never show again. He could only hope that he had not done Orrade a disservice, insisting that the seer heal him.
And as far as he and Lence were concerned, Byren did not have to worry for he would never kill his twin. Maybe Lence was a little annoyed because the glory of the leogryf kill should have been his. That was only natural, but they'd shared too much to let something like this come between them. It was time for a peace offering. As Byren crossed the hall he noticed Orrade. His friend lifted a tankard and beckoned him. All the young men who had sworn fealty to Byren were with him. How would they feel if his supposed connection with Palos came out? Byren hated the thought of letting them down so he shook his head. Orrade stiffened imperceptibly, then turned his back on Byren.
Byren finished drilling the hole through the base of the second leogryf incisor. The tooth was as long as his index finger and a dull ivory colour, part of a matching pair. After threading the two incisors on each side of a row of smaller teeth he tied the ends of the leather thong, then headed out intending to present it to Lence. The trophy necklace had taken him most of the morning to complete. His real betrothal gift wouldn't be ready for a while yet. He'd gone down to Rolenhold first thing this morning to see the silversmith, who promised to have both the matching rings and the lincurium pendant ready soon.
Striding down the castle corridor, Byren dodged busy servants scurrying past with buckets of steaming water drawn from the hot-water cistern at the end of the hall. Others bustled by with freshly pressed clothes and polished boots. The smell of polish, crisped cotton and lavender-scented wool filled the air. The abbot would stage the race for Halcyon's Fate at midday and everyone wanted to see it. Byren had to find his twin before they left for the township, because after that their day would be taken up with ceremony and feasting.
He went looking for Lence. In the great hall he headed for the knot of drinkers by the fireplace, identifying his father and Captain Temor. Who was that with them?
Illien of Cobalt. He'd recognise those padded shoulders anywhere. There was nothing wrong with Cobalt's shoulders so why pad them? He supposed his cousin hadn't had time to get Rolencian-style clothes made up yet.
'…because it's never happened here, Captain Temor, that doesn't mean it can't happen in Merofynia,' Cobalt was saying. 'Palatyne's a canny man, as befits the warlord of Amfina Spar, the two-headed snake. He let the rest of Merofynia's warlords tear each other to pieces like a pack of wild dogs so that when he stepped in they had nothing left to throw against his men. That's how he became overlord of the spars. And, by keeping them under control, he's earned King Merofyn's gratitude. But the ordinary people of Merofynia are sick of this upstart overlord strutting around, taking what he wants. They were fed up with King Merofyn anyway, with his greedy taxes and his religious fervour. Now that he stares death in the face, he's turned to the gods, calling on those with untamed Affinity to find a way to bargain with death itself. Why, they say there are more renegade Power-workers in Port Mero than bakers!'
'Filthy Untamed Affinity,' King Rolen muttered. 'Execution or banishment is all they deserve.'
'Very true,' Cobalt agreed. 'I was telling Lence Kingsheir only yesterday how the people of Merofynia look back on the rule of Queen Myrella's father with great longing. I swear, Uncle, if you were to march into Port Mero right now the people would cheer you as a saviour!'
'More the fool me. What of the lords and their men, Cobalt? You can bet they won't lay down their arms and welcome me into their Great Halls!' King Rolen laughed. 'Besides, soon we'll have Lence betrothed to King Merofyn's daughter. All Rolencia wants from Merofynia is peace and a chance to grow prosperous.'
'Yes, Merofyn's daughter,' Cobalt muttered looking worried.
'What have you heard about Isolt?' Captain Temor asked.
Cobalt gave a delicate shrug. 'You know what they say, what's suckled at the breast cannot be forgotten. For all that she's a pretty thing, she is her father's child.'
'Cunning and cold?' Rolen pressed.
Cobalt shrugged. ''Be careful what you whisper on your pillow. It will find its way back to your wife's father and brothers.''
Temor nodded. 'Wives taken to cement alliances always owe their loyalty to their family, not their husband.'
'Ha! My Myrella has proven the exception to that rule.' King Rolen grinned. 'Don't worry, Illien. I'm sure Lence will make the most of Isolt. She's only fifteen, young enough to mould.'
'We can hope so,' Cobalt agreed, and for the first time Byren wondered if his father had made the right decision. An uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. All his life, his father had been a legendary figure who had saved Rolencia from invasion at only eighteen years of age. But what if the king had misjudged the balance of power this time? There had been times recently when Byren hadn't agreed with his father's decisions. The Utland raid was one example. It struck him that for many years now his father had trusted his old honour guard as advisors, men who were certainly loyal but they had never lived outside Rolencia. Was his father…
'Byren, I didn't see you there,' Cobalt greeted him, his dark rippling curls travelling across his back as he turned. Small jewels had been woven through the hair at his temples and they winked as they caught the light.
Why didn't he tie his hair back like a warrior? Byren repressed that thought as unworthy, while Cobalt's sword arm was still in a sling.
'Would you like a wine, cousin?' Cobalt asked.
'No, thank you. Have you seen Lence?' Byren addressed the question to the group as a whole.
'He went to Eagle Tower to clear his head,' Temor said.
'Tell him not to be late,' King Rolen advised, then caught Cobalt's eye. 'You know Lence, always chasing something pretty in a skirt.'
'And very good at catching them, from what I hear.' Cobalt winked.
King Rolen gave a great belly laugh. 'More luck to him!'
Cobalt topped up the king's glass, then Temor's. Again, he offered Byren the decanter. 'A cup of Rolencia's finest for you, Cousin?'
Byren shook his head and weaved through the forest of brilliantly decorated columns. Did Illien think their castle garish compared to Ostron Isle? It was Rolencia's custom to cover every surface with intricate carving, picked out in paint and gilding, enhanced with semi-precious stones. He left the great hall, passing under the arched doorway, its delicate floral carving highlighted by gold leaf on a pale blue background. Normally he wouldn't notice it, today he paused to study it and decided it was beautiful, what ever Illien thought.
As a small boy he'd adored Illien Cobaltson. Now he'd looked for, but did not find, the friendship he'd hoped would eventuate with Cobalt the man, and he did not understand why. Taking the passage, then crossing the courtyard, Byren headed for Eagle Tower.
'Byren?' Orrade called, catching up with him at the base of stairs that led up to the tower's first-floor door. Orrade glanced about, then stepped around the far side of the stairs so that they could speak privately.
'Why did you turn down the village girl?'
'Elina — '
'That's never stopped you in the past.'
Byren shrugged. 'It's different now.' For a heartbeat he tried to find the words to explain. It was true he and Orrade and Lence had gone wenching many times in the past. But it was different then, then he hadn't felt so deeply for Elina, then he hadn't known that Orrade preferred men to women… another thought struck him. 'You didn't think that I… that you — '
