The King's Bastard - By Rowena Cory Daniells Page 0,191
the corridor she would be trapped, unable to reach the stairs. He cast one glance to Palatyne, who was hastily dragging on his breeches, and ran after her.
'We'll be trapped.' Orrade ran at his side, sword in hand.
But Elina had already swung one long leg over the balcony. As Byren watched she grabbed the embroidered emblem and lowered herself over the drop.
'Clever girl!' Orrade said, following her.
Byren heard footsteps, turned, blocked Palatyne's attack and avoided another stroke from one of three lordlings who jostled to kill him. The nearest died on the edge of Byren's blade, but even as he fell another stepped into his place.
Without looking, Byren placed his left hand on the rail and leapt over, reaching for the emblem. It screeched as it tore, falling with him. But it was enough to absorb his momentum and Orrade helped steady him as he landed on the floor below, only a body length from the dove aviary. He had a glimpse of dead birds amidst feathers and blood as Elina hugged him. Wearing Orrade's shirt, which revealed her long thighs, she looked every bit the Old Dove's warrior daughter. Byren hugged her fiercely, wondering if she would still speak to him if Orrade ever revealed how they'd delayed rescuing her.
'Hurry,' Orrade urged, pulling them towards the far doors and the terrace. 'They'll be down the stairs in a moment.'
Byren backed up with Elina at his side. 'You two get out. I'll hold them. I'll meet you at the water-wheel.'
'We still need to light a warning beacon,' Elina protested. Pulling away from him, she ran to the fireplace and stood on tiptoe to grab the firestone. Before Byren could stop her, she ran to the other stand and tossed the first firestone up to join its mate. Byren had never seen two firestones meet. They exploded in a ball of blue-white fire. The wall hangings burst into flames, hungrily racing up to the vaulted ceiling above.
The force of it flung Elina back off her feet. Byren and Orrade ran to her, dragging her to safety. Byren could feel the heat beating on him from three body lengths away.
'Elina, are you all right?' Byren turned her hands over to reveal her burnt palms. 'Oh, Lina.'
She managed a smile.
'Here they come,' Orrade warned.
Byren looked up to see Palatyne, the Utlander and his warriors race through the door under the mezzanine into the great hall. He caught Elina by the arm, hauling her to her feet and thrust her towards Orrade. 'Take her. Get out.'
But when they turned to face the great doors he saw the Merofynian servants had escaped the wine cellar and cut them off.
'The cook should have cut their throats,' Orrade whispered.
Seeing their predicament, Palatyne laughed and lowered his sword. 'Surrender and I'll let the girl live.'
'First man to come within range of my sword dies!' Byren raised the sword tip.
'Stay back. I have sent for archers, Overlord Palatyne,' Lord Dunstany called from the balcony above.
Byren cursed.
Palatyne smiled. 'Work your power on them. First one to make them suffer earns my gratitude.'
Orrade cursed under his breath. Byren gripped his sword tighter, ready for anything.
There was a moment's tense silence as both Power-workers sent out mental probes.
'Power-working is a lot like metal working, overlord. A smithy can't fashion a sword from thin air,' Lord Dunstany said. 'These three are without Affinity so there's nothing for me to work with.'
'Not so, Dunstany, I sense something,' the Utlander insisted.
'By all means expend your power on a hopeless task. It will only make me stronger,' Dunstany urged.
The Utlander glared at him.
'Byren, I think I can bluff the perfumed parasites between us and the door,' Orrade whispered. 'Those servants'll run at the first sight of blood.'
'Well, Dunstany?' Palatyne demanded.
'The archers will be here soon.'
'Useless Power-workers,' Palatyne swore. A nasty slow smile spread across his face and he left the mezzanine calling, 'Bring me the kingsheir.'
'What's he doing?' Elina whispered as they waited.
Byren did not know. But he suspected he would not like it.
In no time at all, the overlord strode into the hall as his men marched Lence over to stand in front of Palatyne. He looked groggy. There was blood on his shirt from the blow Byren had delivered to the back of his head.
'Give him your sword.' Palatyne gestured to one of the lordlings.
Lence lifted the weapon, blinking fiercely to clear his head.
'Now prove your worth, kingsheir. Kill them or die with them!'