The King's Bastard - By Rowena Cory Daniells Page 0,6
has outlawed renegade Power-workers. Why ask me?'
Byren brushed this aside. 'He's dying. I can't let him die.'
Her wrinkled face creased with a mixture of malicious spite and delight.
'Please,' he whispered.
That surprised her.
She hunkered down in the snow next to him, placing one grimy, clawed hand on Orrade's forehead. Byren watched anxiously as she concentrated, seeming to turn her focus inward, for several heart beats.
'He'll linger for a day or two then die,' she announced.
'But you can prevent that?'
She studied him. 'He won't be the same -'
'Doesn't matter. Uh...' Byren reconsidered. Affinity was tricky and those with it, doubly so. 'Do you mean he won't have his wits? Orrade would hate that. He'd rather die.'
'Oh, he'll still be your friend. But there'll be consequences if I use Affinity to -'
'Sylion take the consequences. I can't let him die.'
'What will you give me?' she countered.
He stared at her, shocked.
Her eyes narrowed. 'Do you expect me to help you out of the goodness of my heart?'
He nodded. 'I would.'
She laughed, then shook her head. 'You have a long way to go before you're ready to rule Rolencia. But perhaps -'
'So you'll do it?' he asked, concentrating on what was important. 'You'll save him?'
'I'll try. Good spot for a healing, plenty of raw power.' She replaced her hand on Orrade's forehead and her eyes glazed over. Sweat appeared on her top lip, popping up between the sparse silver hairs. Byren could see the effort required for healing, but he felt nothing as time stretched. It went on long enough for him to get a cramp in his foot. He massaged it surreptitiously.
'There.' She grunted with relief, sitting back on her heels to catch her breath. 'He'll pull through. But you'll need to get him somewhere warm to recover, and he'll never be the same.'
'Thank you, thank you!' Byren grabbed her shoulders, planting a smacking kiss on her papery cheek.
She stared at him, stunned, then smiled like a young girl.
He laughed and turned back to Orrade. 'Orrie, can y'hear me? Orrie?'
No answer. But his friend was breathing easier and Byren was sure his cheeks were a better colour already. He swung back to thank the old woman. 'You've done it, he's -'
She'd gone.
Chapter Two
Byren sat up on his heels, searching the hollow. No sign of the seer. In fact, with all the churned-up snow it was impossible to tell that she'd even been there. The dark must be playing tricks on his eyes but her disappearance had made things easier for him. If she had been an ordinary old woman, he would have been bound by the travellers' code to offer her shelter. Since she was a renegade Power-worker, he should have urged her to leave Rolencia.
He grinned. His instinctive fear of renegade Affinity had faded when she proved to be such a terrible seer. As if he'd ever turn on Lence!
She should have stuck to healing. Still smiling, he glanced down at Orrade. His friend was still out cold.
Too cold.
It would be ironic if Orrade caught a chest affliction and died despite the seer's help. Already the first bright stars winked above them in an oyster-shell sky, heralding a fine, extremely cold night. Byren checked Orrade's head wound, binding it with a strip of cloth. The wound had stopped bleeding, but there was too much fresh blood to stay here and, besides, the seep would draw Affinity beasts down from the Dividing Mountains.
Hastily, he rigged a strap for his broken snow shoe. If only the branch had struck Orrade a hand's breadth lower. Then it would have connected with his broad shoulders and done no more than knock him off his feet and maybe wind him. Bad luck.
Sylion's luck. But then it was nearly midwinter and that cold, cruel god had a firm grip on Rolencia.
He collected the spear, then took off his bow and arrow quiver, hefting Orrade onto his back. Now all he had to do was walk until he reached the village. He turned towards the rim where he could still see the passage of Winterfall's party on the silvery snow. Just as he set off, the deep ululating cry of an ulfr pack on the hunt echoed down from the bluffs behind the village. The direction suggested the pack were between him and safety.
'Freezing Sylion!' He adjusted Orrade's weight. The blood and the seep would attract the Affinity beasts. Ulfrs were related to timber wolves, though larger and more cunning than their mundane cousins.