The King's Bastard - By Rowena Cory Daniells Page 0,138

evergreens. The birds' raucous cries echoed in the sudden silence. Lence glanced that way. 'Someone's coming. Go home by the horse trail.'

With that he turned his mount and galloped off.

Byren ran to the trees, seeking cover. The soft rhythm of the horse's hooves faded as he peered around a snow-crusted branch. Picking their way along the bank of the frozen stream, Piro and Garzik rode towards him. He came out of hiding, signalling to them.

Piro waved and cantered her mount around to meet him.

'Was that Lence?' she asked as she arrived.

He nodded.

'What did he want?'

'Elina sent him.'

'Oh.' Piro sat back in her saddle.

Garzik looked away, not wanting to share his disappointment.

Byren noticed their travelling bags tied to the saddles. 'Leaving already?'

'Elina threw me out.' Piro gave an unsteady laugh.

'And I've been disinherited,' Garzik said.

'What?'

'Well, I told father to make Elina his heir, so it amounts to the same thing,' Garzik admitted.

'Why?'

'He was belittling you and Orrade. I... I lost my temper.'

'Lence knows, Byren,' Piro warned.

'I know he knows.' Byren turned towards his hidden horse.

'Will he tell father?' Piro asked.

In the midst of mounting up, Byren paused, then continued to swing his leg over the horse's back. 'He'll tell father all right. Tell him the Servants of Palos are planning to put me on the throne!'

'But there are no Servants of Palos, just Orrade -'

'And his attachment to a romantic myth,' Byren muttered. And suddenly he was able to forgive Orrade his foolish faith in Palos. Everyone needed a hero. A weight he hadn't really been aware of lifted from him as he spurred his horse towards their camp.

Piro took a few moments to catch up. 'Don't worry, Byren, father won't believe it.'

He pulled on the reins, slowing his horse, and twisted in the saddle to face her. 'Thirty years ago father purged Rolencia of the Servants of Palos. Noble and servant alike, they all went under the axe or dangled from the hangman's noose. Do you think he'll be any more lenient this time?'

'But Byren, there is no secret society. So you're safe.'

He thought of Lence's refusal to believe him. 'If it isn't there, how can I prove it doesn't exist?'

Piro's eyes widened and she fell silent.

Byren rode on, frustration and anger warring within him. When Lence returned to Rolenhold, Byren would lose his family and his place in the world, based on an accusation he could not disprove.

What could he do?

Piro watched distractedly as Byren and Orrade broke camp. When they were done, Orrade swung his leg over his mount and waited to bring up the rear, while Byren led them towards the trail to Rolenton.

That reminded her. 'Wait, Byren. Lence said he saw the spoor of a manticore pride on the horse trail. We should travel by canal.'

'Eh, you've got it wrong, Piro. He said the manticores were on the canal.'

She frowned. 'No. I'm sure -'

'You must have misheard him, Piro, because you'd expect manticores to be in the forest, not the canals.'

'Either way. We don't want to run into a manticore pride,' Orrade muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as if his head ached. 'They'll be ravenous from their winter sleep and each female is sure to have two or more cubs. They'll be hunting to feed them as well.'

Piro nodded. 'But I'm sure Lence said the horse trail wasn't safe.'

'Slip of the tongue,' Byren decided. 'I know what he told me.'

With that, he turned his horse towards the trail.

Piro debated arguing further but now she was beginning to doubt her own memory. They were much more likely to find the manticores on the horse trail, fresh from their den in the Divide, rather than down along the canal. So she fell into place riding behind Garzik, with Orrade bringing up the rear.

Fyn stiffened, drawing closer to Feldspar as Galestorm and Beartooth rounded the corner. His friend's soft gasp of fear sounded loud in his ear. They were in the hall to the mystics' store room, a place rarely visited by anyone but mystics, so Galestorm and Beartooth must have deliberately sought them out. Fyn cursed under his breath, for the monk who was supposed to watch over them had delayed to gossip with a friend. He would catch up in a moment, but by then it might be too late.

'Fyn, Feldspar,' Galestorm greeted them, malicious eyes bright with an excitement that filled Fyn with foreboding. 'I was so sorry to hear about the loss of your friend. I have been meaning to offer my personal