The King's Bastard - By Rowena Cory Daniells Page 0,20

father say if he knew...

Byren fought a wave of nausea as he imagined King Rolen's reaction. At eighteen, his father had seen his own father betrayed and nearly lose the kingdom, all because of the Servants of Palos. His father would be devastated and Lence...

His twin would never believe it. Byren felt relieved as he thought this through. Lence would vouch for him and help convince their father. The three of them had gone wenching together enough times for Lence to know it was a lie.

But hopefully it wouldn't come to that. No one need ever know, not Fyn, his younger brother who had been gifted to Halcyon Abbey, not his mother or sister. His mouth went dry. But what if the servants suspected Orrade's real feelings? He knew how quickly rumour could spread. Before long, lies would seem like truth to those who did not know him. He groaned because it wasn't even remotely true.

Why did Orrade have to carry that accursed pendant?

Someone knocked on the door.

'Yes?' Orrade called.

The door opened to reveal the kitchen boy, who placed Byren's travelling pack on the floor. 'Cook's packing some food for you right now.' He looked up miserably. 'What's going on, Master Orrade? They say you're leaving.'

'And so I am. Don't worry, Rifkin. Just bring the food as soon as it is ready.'

A picture of dejection, the boy nodded and ran off.

Orrade shuddered. 'Where will I go? If only I could see, I could offer to serve in your father's honour guard, but who wants a blind warrior?'

Byren grasped Orrade's shoulder. 'You're coming back with me. You may be blind but you still have your wits, Orrie. And there's not a man who can match you word for word.'

Orrade's mouth twisted in a bitter parody of a smile. 'You're suggesting I turn a pretty rhyme for my supper?'

'No. I'm suggesting you come back as my advisor, just as Captain Temor advises father.'

But Orrade was off on another track. 'You took the blame for me, Byren, and I can't take it back. I tried but...'

'Doesn't matter,' Byren said. But it did, for if the rumour spread his reputation would be destroyed.

At least he was sure Lence would vouch for him.

Byren grinned. The old seer couldn't have been more wrong about his twin.

Chapter Four

A flash of annoyance warmed Fyn. The monks who should have been loading the sleds had wandered off. He lowered the bale and glanced back up the winding path to the abbey high upon Mount Halcyon. Almost dusk, no one else in sight.

The sleds stood on frozen Viridian Lake, waiting to be loaded so the monks could set off tomorrow. As a final-year acolyte it was not his place to tell first year monks what to do, but...

Jeering male laughter made Fyn stiffen. The sound carried from the next inlet along the lake's shore. He made his way carefully along the snowy bank, towards the outcropping that hid the inlet. Climbing onto the ledge, he crawled along until he could stretch out and look down onto the scene below, his head almost level with the monks'.

There were four of them, their different coloured robes revealing their affiliation with different abbey masters, but these four had always been fast friends, united by their similar natures. The monks had cornered a flock of grucranes. These large, cumbersome Affinity beasts survived Rolencia's cold winters by cohabiting with people. In exchange for a warm roost at night near the chimney pots of homes, they kept watch over the buildings. One of the flock was always awake, a stone clutched in its claw. If it fell asleep, the stone would fall and wake the others, so the birds made excellent sentries. Many a household had been saved from thievery or fire, always a constant threat with wooden homes, by the raucous cry of the sentry grucrane.

This particular flock slept on the abbey's chimney vents and spent their days on the lake, swimming and fishing in summer, fossicking along the shore in winter. Now they were confronted by Monk Galestorm and his three friends. The flock's leader had shepherded the birds into a hollow in the shoreline, effectively trapping them because, unless the heavy, ungainly birds took to the air, the only way out was closed off by Galestorm and his friends. Used to nothing but kindness from the monks, the birds milled about in confusion.

While his three companions watched, Galestorm shoved a stick at the Affinity beasts, then made an opening, only to dart in