The King's Bastard - By Rowena Cory Daniells Page 0,139
condolences.'
Fury filled Fyn's chest, nearly choking him.
'It is a very sad loss,' he managed to say, then couldn't help adding, 'one that could have been avoided.'
Beartooth smirked. Fyn wanted to punch him.
'A misstep on the stairs. A simple accident,' Galestorm shrugged. 'So unfortunate.'
'We must all take care.' Fyn heard himself as if someone else was speaking. 'None of us are above taking a careless step.'
Galestorm's eyes widened, then narrowed.
'Even kingsons can -' Beartooth growled.
But Galestorm cut him off, stepping closer, his voice dropping. 'You think you're safe, Fyn Kingson. Sure, you've got friends in high places. But friends come and go.'
'Not these friends. They will remain true,' Fyn said.
'Ah, but some of them are old and the old must make way for the young. One day Master Firefox will be abbot and then, who will you turn -'
'Not if Master Catillum is made abbot,' Feldspar protested.
Galestorm sent him a pitying look. 'Other than Master Oakstand, Catillum's supporters are all from the abbot's generation. When they die and take their place in Halcyon's Sacred Heart, who will back a crippled mystic?'
Feldspar swallowed audibly.
Galestorm smiled and nudged Beartooth. They passed by, Beartooth deliberately thumping his shoulder into Fyn's. When they rounded the bend, Fyn felt Feldspar sag against him. He discovered he'd been holding his breath and let it out in a rush. Sparks danced in front of his eyes and he had to take several breaths to clear his vision.
Feldspar sent him a worried look.
'Don't fret,' Fyn said. 'If Galestorm could strike at us, he would have by now. He's just blustering.'
'I hope you're right.'
Fyn hoped so too.
Byren finished his lunch and stood up, dusting crumbs from his hands. Piro and Garzik moved off to remount. He noticed Orrade rubbing his eyes, a frown drawing his straight black brows together. 'What's wrong, Orrie?'
'Oh, nothing,' he muttered, then seemed to think better of it. 'It's just these grey spots are coming back.' He blinked several times as if trying to clear his vision.
'Headache?' Byren asked, dreading the answer.
Orrade went as if to deny it, then admitted, 'It's been coming on since last night.'
'Ready?' Piro asked, having mounted up and urged her horse over to join them.
'Garza, you lead,' Byren called. 'I'll bring up the rear.'
Orrade opened his mouth to object, then shrugged.
'Not far to the first campsite, Garza knows the way,' Byren said.
They headed off. Riding in the rear meant Byren could watch Orrade's back. Was his friend suffering a relapse of the blindness or was his newly aroused Affinity trying to surface? Last time, Orrade had warned them about the raiders. What would it be this time? Manticores? Maybe Affinity beasts triggered his gift? No... the amfina hadn't.
'Eh, Orrie,' Byren called softly. 'Why didn't you warn me about the amfina before it attacked?'
Orrade glanced over his shoulder, his face pale, expression distracted. 'How could I, when I hadn't seen its tracks?'
And it obviously hadn't aroused his Affinity. So, Byren wondered, why was Orrade suffering similar symptoms to the ones that brought on his warning about the raiders? According to the tales, some people with Affinity could look into a person's heart and see if they were of evil intent. Certainly the amfina intended no evil. It was merely doing what beasts do, while the raiders knew they were crossing Rolencia to attack a peaceful village.
'Any trouble up ahead, Orrie?' Byren asked softly.
'See any trouble? I can't even see past my horse's ears,' Orrade muttered.
Byren chewed over this answer. It was clear Orrade's sight was fading again, and either he was unaware of his new-found Affinity or he was denying it to himself. Best to be on the lookout. The sooner they returned to Rolenhold the better.
Garzik was a brave lad but inexperienced. Like Piro, he could get himself into trouble. And if Orrade became worse Byren would have to lead his horse. Even now his friend swayed in the saddle, shoulders hunched in pain.
'Not far now, Orrie,' Byren said gently.
He didn't answer.
From then on Byren remained alert, watching for an attack or any deterioration in Orrade's state.
By the time they reached their usual camp, however, Orrade's colour was better and he helped to build the snow-cave. Garzik saw to the horses, with Piro's help. Soon they were snug in their snow-cave heating dinner over the brazier.
While Garzik and Piro bickered over the best kind of food to pack for winter travelling, Byren passed the reheated meat to Orrade. 'How's the headache, Orrie?'
'Nearly gone.'
'Spots?'
'Fading, thank the goddess.' Orrade tucked into his stew.