The King's Bastard - By Rowena Cory Daniells Page 0,137

swung up into the saddle.

It did not seem the right time to say she was sorry, so Piro kept her silence as they rode out of the stables, out of the yard and turned their mounts towards the trail off the estate.

How had things gone so wrong, Piro wondered, when she had set out with the best of intentions to help Byren reconcile with Elina?

'Slow down, Garzik,' she said suddenly. 'We must tell Byren. He'll be waiting for Elina at the water-wheel.'

'Then he's going to be disappointed,' Garzik muttered. They turned their horses across country.

Byren tensed and untensed his muscles as he lay along the tree's broad branch. He was half frozen even in his thick winter woolens. There'd been another cold snap last night, making him glad he'd built a sturdy snow-cave.

It was only as he was riding down here that he realised Orrade's preference for men would be accepted in Ostron Isle. Was this why his friend had suggested they go there? Maybe he was being selfish by asking Orrade to stay. Ambassadors tended to be older people with years of experience at court, but Byren could suggest that Orrade go to Ostron Isle as assistant to Rolencia's current ambassador. At least then Orrade would have a respected position. Yes, he would speak to his mother about it.

Byren heard the soft clump of a horse walking through snow and the gentle snort as it blew through its nostrils. His spirits lifted. All was right with the world. Elina had come to see him, which could only mean she must be ready to forgive him.

He swung down from the tree branch, dropping to the snow.

When he straightened up, it was not Elina who rode towards him, but Lence. For a moment he thought his eyes must be deceiving him. 'Lence, I thought you were -'

'I was, but I'm back. Elina sent me to give you a message, brother.'

Byren tensed.

'She wants you to leave her alone.'

'I don't believe it. I won't. Not until I hear it from her own lips.'

'She's already told you once. How many times must she tell you? You sicken her, you and your lover...'

Byren swayed, sounds spiralling away until a roaring filled his ears. When it cleared, Lence was still sitting astride his horse about a body length from him, hands resting lightly on the pommel of the saddle. He got the impression his twin was waiting for an answer but he'd no idea what the question was.

'Lence, you've gone wenching with me enough times to know that -'

'I admit I found it hard to believe, but you were condemned by your own words.'

'I was protecting Orrie.'

'Why protect him if it's not true?' Lence countered. He shook his head, repressing a shudder. 'It all falls into place. Illien was right, but I refused to believe him. The Servants of Palos are moving again, and this time the alternative heir is not a bastard!'

Byren snorted, torn between laughter and outrage. Then he remembered Cobalt's words... the truth is highly overrated. He took a step closer. 'It's a lie -'

His brother jerked on the reins making the horse rear in protest. Byren had to dart back to avoid slashing hooves. Lence kept pulling on the reins so that the horse pivoted and sidled away.

'Lence, wait,' Byren called. 'Don't trust Cobalt. Think. How long have you known him? What do we know of his life on Ostron Isle?'

'Illien has already confessed his past to me. An older woman lured him on, a furious husband tried to blacken his name, all else is lies and slander. At least he possessed the honour to admit his past indiscretion. What of Orrade?' Again, Lence shuddered. 'I always wondered why you were closer to him than me. Now I know. How long have you two been lovers?'

Byren did not know what to say.

'You don't dare answer me.'

'I don't answer because you've already refused to believe the truth.'

'To think I was so blind...' Lence shook his head. 'Swear to me you'll give up this madness?'

'What madness? I told you, I'm not involved in a conspiracy -'

'Please, Byren!'

He lifted his hands helplessly. How could Lence believe this of him?

'Very well,' Lence said. 'Lord Dovecote's in a rage. If you are captured and dragged before him now, I don't know what he'll do. Get off the estate. And Byren? We saw the tracks of a manticore pride on the canal, don't go that way.'

A dozen birds took to the air from behind a copse of white-cloaked