The King's Bastard - By Rowena Cory Daniells Page 0,117

Unistag Spar I present Byren Rolen Kingson with the horned staff.'

Her people cheered. They did not begrudge him the staff, not when they had a live unistag in their hall. Piro grinned.

'I accept this staff on behalf of Rolencia. May there always be friendship between our people,' Byren said, giving a courtly bow that would have made their mother proud. 'We will see you at the Jubilee celebrations this spring cusp, warlord Unace.'

Byren wrapped the unistag staff in a cloak and strapped it onto the nearest pack pony, then turned to leave. As Piro went to take her place in the line, Seagrass caught her arm.

'Little goatherd, listen to the advice of someone much older than yourself,' he whispered. 'I sense no evil in you but you saw what became of Steerden. As a boy there was no evil in him either. When you go home, tell King Rolen and Queen Myrella the truth. Go to the abbey and serve Sylion. The mystics mistress will teach you how to keep evil at bay. And you will have the satisfaction of knowing that you serve Rolencia to the best of your ability.'

Piro gritted her teeth, staring at the pony's rump in front of her nose. She liked the healer but she didn't want go to the abbey and she didn't want to lie to him.

He touched her arm softly. 'I will be coming to Rolencia for the Jubilee. If you have not revealed your secret by then, I am honour-bound to reveal it.' His voice dropped. 'Please don't make me do that.'

'I understand,' Piro said and, as the line moved off, she moved with it. She understood but she didn't want to serve Sylion. She didn't know what she was going to do.

She had until spring cusp to work something out.

'Quick, off you go,' Byren told Piro as they entered Rolenhold's main gates. His sister had to sneak into her bed chamber, where she would make a miraculous recovery from her sore throat and be present to greet him in the great hall, when he officially returned.

While they travelled back she had played his servant. With only Garzik, Orrade and Temor any the wiser, the rest of the men had thought nothing of her caring for the ponies, cleaning his boots and cooking his dinner. Funny thing was, Piro had thought nothing of it either, never complaining.

'See you inside,' Piro whispered, then blended into the busy stable yard, just another servant.

Garzik slid his pack off his shoulders, passing it to Orrade. 'Think I'll go after her, make sure she gets in safely.'

'Don't.' Byren caught his arm. 'She won't thank you.' He grinned. 'In fact, she'd probably say you were in the way.'

Orrade nodded. 'Piro isn't in need of your protection, little brother.'

Garzik grinned sheepishly. He seemed unable to make up his mind whether to be outraged by her unorthodox behaviour or impressed. Byren suspected he was veering towards impressed.

Temor came over. 'We're ready.'

Byren nodded.

The grizzled old captain put a hand on his shoulder. 'It was nigh on impossible, but you did well.'

Byren felt the heat race up his cheeks. 'With your help.'

Temor nodded. 'A good leader knows the strengths of his men and how to use them.'

Byren cleared his throat and unstrapped the unistag horned staff then turned to face the others. 'Ready?'

Orrade and Garzik nodded.

It was good to return successful. What would his mother and father say? And Lence?

Would Orrade run straight to Cobalt and reveal the ruse Byren had used? And if he did, how would Cobalt turn this knowledge to his advantage? The only sour note in the whole campaign was the fact that Orrade hadn't trusted him enough to reveal Cobalt's threats.

Since she was supposed to be recovering from her sickbed, Piro put up with wearing a shawl. There had been no time to speak with her mother. As soon as word of Byren and his party's return reached them, everyone had gravitated to the great hall, eager to hear his news. Now Piro stood on one side of her mother, with Lence and her father on the other.

Her heart lifted as Byren strode into the hall with Temor and the others at his back. He held the staff, its horn gleaming. With each step he took, its base struck the stones, the sound echoing off the ceiling above.

People muttered, pointing and marvelling.

'By the look of things, Byren has been successful,' her mother whispered approvingly.

'King Rolen, Queen Myrella.' Since he had been on a mission for Rolencia,