The King's Bastard - By Rowena Cory Daniells Page 0,175

light and relieved beyond words, Fyn stepped into the hall.

Now, to take the jar to Master Catillum. He hurried up the steps, pressing the jar to his chest so it would not be jolted.

As Fyn rounded the corner, relieved he had got away with it, a large hand descended on his shoulder, squeezing painfully.

'What do we have here, Beartooth, a little mouse stealing about in the dark?'

'And what has it been stealing?' Galestorm asked.

Fyn tried to pull away from Beartooth.

'Grab him, Onetree,' Galestorm ordered.

Arms pinned him. Fingers prised at his, forcing them away from the jar. Fyn stopped fighting, fearful the jar would fall and shatter.

Whisperingpine whistled. 'That looks like -'

'A jar from Halcyon's Sacred Heart.' Galestorm's eyes narrowed, then he smiled with malicious glee. 'Fyn Kingson, you have just signed your own death decree!'

'Huh?' Beartooth muttered.

Galestorm held up the jar. The semi-precious stones set on the lid glinted. 'All we have to do is show the abbot this and he'll have to order the king's brat executed for profaning the goddess. Come on.'

As they dragged Fyn upstairs his heart sank. Master Catillum had made it clear he could not help him if he was caught. To have come so close!

Even so, Fyn did not struggle. Since he had nothing to lose, he would reveal his suspicions to the abbot. As they had the jar, all the abbot had to do was ask the mystics master to do the tests on Wintertide's heart. Firefox and his supporters might still be proven murderers.

'What I don't understand is why he wanted the jar,' Whisperingpine muttered.

Fyn tensed, but Galestorm was too busy gloating over his downfall to listen.

They drove him up the spiral staircase, through the passages, past the young boys headed into the dining hall to eat their first meal of the day, past the acolytes who were already leaving to learn their crafts. Behind many curious faces, Fyn recognised Feldspar's worried face. Without a word his friend took off, running towards the mystics' level.

'Should I stop him?' Whisperingpine asked Galestorm.

'Don't bother. No one can save the king's brat now.'

Fyn did not say a word as they herded him along the busy corridor towards the stairwell at the far end.

Master Firefox stepped out of his chamber, accompanied by Hotpool.

'What's this?' Firefox demanded. 'Where are you taking Fyn Kingson?'

'To the abbot,' Galestorm announced loudly, holding up the jar. 'We caught him stealing from the goddess's Sacred Heart!'

The nearest acolytes gasped and stared at Fyn, horrified.

When Firefox recognised the jar his eyes widened. Master Hotpool took a step back, going pale. He went to speak, but Firefox touched his arm.

'Well done, Galestorm.' Firefox recovered quickly. 'Give me the jar. We will take him to the abbot.'

No, Fyn thought. If Firefox and Hotpool took over he would never get to the abbot. They would kill him, hide his body and replace the jar.

Galestorm hesitated, obviously torn because he wanted to see Fyn suffer, but obedience won out and he handed over the jar.

Fyn's head filled with a roaring noise.

'Yes, let's take Fyn Kingson straight to the abbot,' Master Catillum said, joining them.

A firm hand descended on Fyn's shoulder, urging him forwards. As Fyn strode towards the stairs, followed by Masters Firefox and Hotpool, the acolytes parted for them, whispering intently.

On the abbot's level they marched down the main corridor, past the archways that looked out over Rolencia.

Master Catillum thrust the doors to the ante-chamber open.

The clerics master leapt to his feet. 'You can't go in -'

'We must!' The mystics master insisted and strode right past him.

He thrust the doors open and marched in.

The abbot and weapons master looked up. The desk between them was littered with notes, paper weights, ink wells and maps.

'There you are. That was quick,' the abbot said. 'But you didn't need to bring Fyn Kingson.'

'Oh, but we did,' Master Catillum insisted. 'He's -'

'He's stolen something from Halcyon's Sacred Heart,' Master Firefox asserted.

Fyn realised the master was going to try to bluster his way out of trouble.

'He's been in the sacred passages. Sacrilege!' Master Hotpool announced.

'It's sacrilege to murder a master,' Fyn cried. 'I took Master Wintertide's jar to prove that he was poisoned!'

'The healers said he had a heart attack,' Firefox countered. 'Surely they would know better than a mere acolyte?'

'A simple test will prove one way or the other,' Catillum said softly. Everyone went still. 'A test I can do before everyone here, now. Shall I send for my equipment?'

'To prove what?' Firefox countered. 'Even if you prove Wintertide was