The King's Bastard - By Rowena Cory Daniells Page 0,13

by chance.

'What -' Garzik began.

'Help him,' Byren urged.

They guided Orrade to the bank, but that wasn't enough. He began to climb it. 'We have to get out of sight, over the lip and lie in the snow.'

'Why?' Garzik muttered.

Then Byren heard the unmistakable, almost silent scissoring sound of many skate blades on ice. He ploughed up the slope, dragging Orrade with him. They rolled over the lip of the bank, lying flat on the snow with Garzik between them.

Peering over the lip, Byren watched a band of thirty silent, armed warriors surge around the bend. They were travelling so fast that they went past in a matter of heartbeats, which was lucky because the frantic scramble up the slope had left tracks that led right to where Byren and the others hid.

'Raiders, but which warlord sent them?' Garzik muttered in the silence left by their passage. 'Rejulas of Cockatrice Spar is closest, yet they did not wear cockatrice cloaks or carry his symbol.'

'True, and why would he send a raiding party over the pass into Rolencia's valley when he could attack the easier prey in the high villages?' Byren wondered aloud. There were other reasons why Rejulas would not attack which he could not share with his friends just yet. 'Why travel at night in total silence when a raid is meant to be noisy and frightening?'

'Because this is no ordinary raid?' Garzik guessed. 'I wonder where they were going?'

'Or coming from. This close to dawn they should be headed back over the Divide.' Byren whispered slowly. 'Orrie. What do you...'

He broke off. Garzik lifted onto his elbows as they both stared at Orrade's ominously still body.

'Orrie?' Byren rolled his friend onto his back and tore off his glove to check Orrade's pulse. It beat steadily under the pad of his fingers. 'Out cold again.'

'He saved our lives. They would have killed us quick as look at us,' Garzik whispered. 'How did he know they were coming?'

How indeed?

'Must have felt the vibration when he hit the ice,' Byren guessed.

Garzik nodded slowly, accepting this.

But Byren was not so sure. He feared Orrade's prescience was a by-product of the old seer's healing. Had his friend lost his sight only to gain Affinity sight?

Never trust untamed Affinity, the old saying came back to taunt him.

'Come on, Garza, I'll carry him on my back. He can't spend another night in the cold.' If they skated all day they'd reach Dovecote stronghold by early evening.

But Byren didn't need to carry him. Orrade recovered as Byren hauled him down the slope. Though groggy, he was able to skate, so they went on.

All day, as they passed gaps in the snow-shrouded evergreens, they caught glimpses of the distant warning tower, tallest of Dovecote's old stronghold towers. Built on the outcrop of a defensible ridge, Dovecote Keep protected the lands within a day's hard ride as well as the pass to Cockatrice Spar.

Anticipating the old lord and Elina's reaction, Byren was feeling the strain by the time they reached Doveton. Little more than a village, it was built at the base of the ridge next to a small lake which was linked by canals to the major lakes. Everyone had retired for the night. The Old Dove did not approve of drunkenness and loose morals so their one tavern was already closed. There was no locked gate to stop Byren entering the single main street. Unlike the fortified farmhouses this village did not have high walls and gates. The people expected to have enough warning to take shelter in Dovecote Keep.

'Doveton looks deserted. Half the houses have no lights in the windows,' Byren observed, slinging his borrowed skates over his shoulders.

'That's because most of the young people have gone to Rolenton and Port Marchand to make their fortunes,' Garzik said.

'And to get away from father's dour rule,' Orrade muttered. Now nearly eighty, the Old Dove had been a contemporary of King Byren the Fourth. He'd outlived two wives and four sons. All his hopes rested on his heir, Orrade. Byren felt the weight of this.

'Come on,' Orrade muttered. 'Might as well get this over with.'

Garzik looked to Byren but there was nothing he could say so they trudged up the slope towards the lights of New Dovecote. Old Dovecote had been built and added to over the three hundred years since King Rolence united the valley people. It was dark and draughty and the plumbing was terrible.

Since the peace with Merofynia the great lords had all built themselves