The King's Bastard - By Rowena Cory Daniells Page 0,43

is mother's home.'

Byren glanced to their mother. She was listening to the old ambassador. Probably talking about Lence's planned wedding, which would be announced on Midwinter's Day.

'My wife knew the ambassador when she was a child in Merofynia. He was a friend of her father's,' King Rolen said.

'That explains it then, Uncle,' Cobalt said. 'You are a lucky man, Queen Myrella is still a lovely as ever.'

Byren's father glanced to the queen, smiling fondly. 'We'll have been married twenty-one years this spring cusp and it will be three hundred years since King Rolence claimed the valley, uniting it under his banner. Yes, I am a lucky man. You must stand on the royal dais at the Jubilee, Nephew.'

'I would be honoured, Uncle.'

Obviously pleased to see their cousin acknowledged and formally welcomed back into the family, Lence slung an arm around Illien's shoulder. 'A toast to Rolencia!'

As they refilled their cups Byren experienced a stab of intense emotion. It took a moment for him to realise it was jealousy and he dismissed it as unworthy.

'Ever killed a saltwater wyvern, Illien?' Lence asked.

'No, but the Elector of Ostron Isle has a pet one. It's all the fashion.'

'Eh, Ostron Isle! What'll they come up with next?' King Rolen rolled his eyes.

Lence launched into the tale of his first wyvern kill and Byren excused himself. He had to write to Elina, to let her know that Garzik was safe and Orrade had recovered his sight. Retreating to his chamber, he spent a long time over the ink well. He longed to beg Elina's forgiveness and make everything right between them, but he couldn't find the right words. So in the end he stuck to the facts, sealed the note and sent for a courier to take it to Dovecote.

Piro followed Fyn up the steep steps to Eagle Tower. The stairs had been built curving around the inner wall so that defenders could back up, shielding their bodies if the castle walls were ever breached. Not that they would be. Rolenhold had never been taken.

She concentrated on keeping up with Fyn's longer legs. Why couldn't she have been born tall and strong like her namesake? On top of the tower Fyn paced to the battlements and Piro joined him, glad of a chance to catch her breath. Silently, he looked down across the snow-covered Rolencian valley with its network of iced-over canals and streams linking the lakes, right across to Mount Halcyon and the abbey.

Now that he had her attention Fyn seemed to be having trouble getting started.

'That leogryf... no wonder father is proud of Byren,' Piro said. 'And he will be even prouder when you are welcomed into the weapons master's branch of the brotherhood. Why, one day you may be weapons master yourself!'

He glanced at her, then looked away, uncomfortable.

Her heart sank. 'What is it?'

'The weapons master already offered me a place in his ranks, but I turned him down.'

She stared at him, horrified. If King Rolen knew, he would be furious.

Fyn grimaced. 'I couldn't kill on order.'

She searched his face. Lence and Byren had no trouble leading raiding parties. 'I don't -'

Fyn sighed. 'I hate to see anyone hurt, even animals. I could never be a warrior.'

'Oh,' Piro whispered. She had never given much thought to the warriors her brothers killed or injured. Lence and Byren had always seemed so powerful, larger than life, like her father. Now, after seeing the leogryf and hearing how Byren killed it to save Lence's life, she grew fearful for them. 'But sometimes you have to kill or be killed.'

'I know. If anyone hurt you or mother I'd protect you,' Fyn muttered grimly. His obsidian eyes fixed on Piro and she caught a glimpse of the man he might become. It made her shiver. His voice softened and he was a worried youth again. 'But how could I kill men who are simply serving their warlord?'

Piro worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Fyn had always been kinder than the twins. It had never occurred to her that this could make his life harder. 'I don't know what to say. Father expects you to become weapons master so you can support Lence when he is king.'

'I know!' He was clearly frustrated and worried. 'I've been thinking and I see only one way out of this. When the masters make their selection from this year's acolytes, the mystics master must choose me.'

'It would be a great honour to be chosen for a mystic,' Piro said slowly. 'Not