The King's Bastard - By Rowena Cory Daniells Page 0,10

feel Orrade's muscles trembling.

His friend protested and pulled away. The hollows under his high cheekbones starkly defined his grim face.

Byren felt frustrated, helpless. 'We're going to get out of this, Orrie.'

His friend nodded once, but it was clear he wasn't convinced.

For a long while they were silent and the fire burned on, while the wandering stars crawled with deliberate slowness across their allotted paths.

Eventually, Byren shifted, easing his muscles, preparing for the worst. The ulfrs had begun to close in, their eyes glowing beyond the fire's semi circle.

He lifted one of the good spears and picked his first target, the male that had nearly crept up on him before. The distance was too great for an average man to throw but Byren was not an average man. Silently, he thanked King Rolence the First, who had bequeathed his descendants with unusual height.

The ulfr watched him, watched his eyes, not the spear.

When Byren went to throw it crouched, presenting a smaller target. Sylion take it, the beasts were too clever.

Byren swallowed.

The massive pack leader padded out from the tree line, lifted its head to reveal white fur on its chest and gave voice to that dreaded howl. Fear prickled across Byren's skin.

The rest of the ulfrs echoed their leader.

In the moment that the first, smaller male was distracted, Byren threw his spear with all his strength and training. It took the beast high in the shoulder. The impact threw the ulfr off its feet as its howl became a whine of pain. The others ducked and whined as if in sympathy, slinking back to the trees.

'You got one!' Orrade struggled to his knees, adjusting the cloak.

'They'll attack again,' Byren warned. He crouched and felt for Orrade's shoulder, thrusting the makeshift spear into his hands. 'If any of them get past me, deal with them.'

'How? I won't know where they are until their jaws close on me!' Orrade's voice dropped and he tugged on Byren's arm drawing him closer still. 'I'm going to die but I don't care as long as you live. I want you to know that I love you. I've always loved you!' He smiled ruefully as if he could see Byren's startled expression. 'And you've only ever had eyes for my sister!'

'But... the girls we've shared -'

'Meant nothing.' Orrade reached into his vest and pulled out a chain. On the end swung the symbol of the archer. 'I have foresworn women just like Palos.' Palos was a semi-mythical warlord whose feats with the bow had not been matched since. He'd almost united Rolencia in a time before King Rolence. His exploits were legendary.

But it was the more recent return of Palos that people remembered. During the rule of Byren's grandfather, a group calling themselves the Servants of Palos had sought to overthrow King Byren the Fourth. Their treachery had weakened Rolencia, inviting invasion from Merofynia and ultimately to the deaths of Byren's grandfather and uncle. At barely eighteen Byren's father had become king and defeated the Merofynians. In the first years of his reign he hunted down the remaining Servants of Palos, executing every last one, no matter who they were.

'You can't be a Servant of Palos,' Byren protested. 'You're loyal to -'

'Of course I am. This has nothing to do with the Servants of Palos.'

'Then why wear that hated symbol?'

'Don't you see? Palos was a great warrior. His followers loved and respected him, even though he was a lover of men.' Orrade sat forwards, one hand reaching for Byren, who pulled back. 'Byren?'

He did not know what to say. Casting a quick glance over his shoulder, he made sure the ulfrs were not creeping up on them.

Orrade's hand dropped, his face bleak. 'You despise me.'

Byren stared. Orrade looked no different, but he was, and every moment they'd ever shared flashed through Byren's head, tainting their friendship. He fixed on the most recent thing. 'Why did you offer to come with me to hunt the lincis?'

'To keep you safe. The king's forest is a dangerous place, especially this close to midwinter.' Orrade shook his head. 'Then you went and saved me!'

And suddenly it didn't matter. He was still Orrade.

Byren frowned at the chain and its damning symbol, resting on Orrade's vest. 'You should take that bloody thing off and throw it away.'

'Pretend to be something I'm not?' Orrade countered, temper rising.

'If your father knew he would disown you!'

'I know. He never speaks my brother's name,' Orrade admitted.

When Lord Dovecote discovered his eldest son was a Servant of Palos,