The King's Bastard - By Rowena Cory Daniells Page 0,47

Rolenhold cheered. His followers swung Lence up onto their shoulders.

Byren stepped back to let them pass as they made a victory march around the great hall. Lence raised his arm in a fist. Byren grinned.

'Remember the arnica,' the hunt-master said, before he walked off.

Yes. Arnica. With a start Byren realised he was going to lie to his twin to keep the peace. How had it come to this?

Across the great hall he noticed the abbot, with several of his masters and the castle's Halcyon Affinity warder. Without intending it, he found himself weaving through the tables towards their quiet corner.

He had to know if a seer's prediction could be avoided.

The masters and the abbot all rose as he approached. He gave them a bow, acknowledging their age and learning. 'I have a question regarding Affinity.'

'Slaying beasts like the leogryf releases the Affinity that animates their physical bodies, returning it to the Unseen world. But don't worry. It cannot affect you unless you have Affinity and we know you don't,' Autumnwind, the castle Affinity warder, assured him. 'And the correct atonement to Halcyon was made so you have not slighted her.'

'Eh, it's not that,' Byren admitted.

'Ask.' The mystics master gestured, looking interested.

Byren took a moment to frame his question. He could hardly blurt out that the seer said he'd kill his twin to claim the throne. 'Have you heard about the renegade seer who confronted us in Rolenton Square?'

They nodded.

Byren cleared his throat. 'She said some things about my mother that have upset her. Can a seer's prediction be avoided?'

The Affinity warder glanced to the mystics master.

'Seers see possible paths and often only nexus points of great importance. We must put clues together to make sense of what they have seen,' the master said, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. 'I'm sorry I can't be more helpful.'

Byren waved this aside. 'Does that mean we can't avoid -'

'Not at all. The future is a road with many destinations, not all of them will eventuate. Tell the queen I am happy to consult with her, if she needs me.'

'I will.' Relieved, Byren bowed and went to back off but another thought occurred to him. 'Farmer Overhill says his son's Affinity came on him at fifteen. How can Affinity suddenly appear in someone who has shown no sign of it?'

'We are still discovering the ways of Affinity, kingson,' the castle Affinity warder admitted.

'But we know this much,' the mystics master said. 'If it doesn't show by the time a child is six years of age, it may surface at times of life-changing events, the birth of a child or escape from certain death.'

'Could a healer with Affinity accidentally trigger Affinity?' Byren asked, getting to his real question at last.

The Affinity warder glanced to the master.

'According to the abbey records this hasn't happened for a hundred and twenty years,' he said. Eyes that were far too keen fixed on Byren. 'Why do you ask?'

'Just curious.' Byren quickly thanked them and backed off, his worst fears confirmed. He would have to watch over Orrade and make sure no one realised his friend now had Affinity. If they were lucky it would never show again. He could only hope that he had not done Orrade a disservice, insisting that the seer heal him.

And as far as he and Lence were concerned, Byren did not have to worry for he would never kill his twin. Maybe Lence was a little annoyed because the glory of the leogryf kill should have been his. That was only natural, but they'd shared too much to let something like this come between them. It was time for a peace offering. As Byren crossed the hall he noticed Orrade. His friend lifted a tankard and beckoned him. All the young men who had sworn fealty to Byren were with him. How would they feel if his supposed connection with Palos came out? Byren hated the thought of letting them down so he shook his head. Orrade stiffened imperceptibly, then turned his back on Byren.

Byren finished drilling the hole through the base of the second leogryf incisor. The tooth was as long as his index finger and a dull ivory colour, part of a matching pair. After threading the two incisors on each side of a row of smaller teeth he tied the ends of the leather thong, then headed out intending to present it to Lence. The trophy necklace had taken him most of the morning to complete. His real betrothal gift