The King's Bastard - By Rowena Cory Daniells Page 0,7

He shouldn't have delayed for the lincurium. Orrade must not suffer because of his stupid rivalry with Lence.

With its walls, the village would not need to fear the pack, and he trusted Winterfall had the sense not to send anyone out to help him until the seep was contained and the area made safe. This meant he was on his own, which made climbing a tree useless. He didn't want to be staked out by the pack. The further he went from the seep, the better. Affinity beasts hunted ordinary animals for food, but raw Affinity would draw them. Hopefully Affinity lust would win out over hunger. He had heard reports of the beasts rolling in a seep in a state of ecstasy, an image he found hard to visualise.

But which way should he go? If he travelled east he would be on Dovecote land. He cast his mind back to steamy summers when he and Orrade roamed the estate. He seemed to remember a fortified farmhouse near the foothills. If he walked all night he would get there by dawn.

Byren turned east.

Used to skating the winter canals, his long legs ate up the ground. Despite the cold he was soon sweating, and Orrade seemed to grow heavier with every step. His weapons became a burden but he could not discard them.

Later, when he heard the ulfr pack calling again, he glanced up to the stars and judged he had been walking for two hours. The echoes off the bluffs tended to confuse the source of sounds, but he could not fool himself.

The pack was following him. Their silver-grey winter coats would make them hard to spot, but he did not need to see them. He could tell by the extreme hush of the snow-shrouded forest that its winter inhabitants had gone to ground. The pack was near.

'Halcyon help me!' he muttered, calling on the goddess of healing and growing things. He would not reach the fortified farmhouse. He needed somewhere defensible. If he could just reach the ridge that marked Dovecote land.

Adjusting Orrade, he set off again.

Half an hour later, he felt the land rise under him and looked up. About two bow shots away he could see starry sky through the trunks.

Now to choose a spot and start a fire... pity he didn't have a male and female firestone. Once placed in contact with each other the stones produced a blaze which sustained itself until they were separated. But only the very wealthy could afford them and they were treasured family heirlooms.

No time for if only.

Byren plunged on. By the time he reached the edge of the ridge, the night was filled with the luminescence of stars. He gently lowered Orrade and tried to catch his breath as he surveyed their sanctuary.

Halcyon had favoured him, for he'd reached the ridge where it fell away into a steep ravine, too steep for the ulfrs to attack from that direction. This left him with a half-circle to defend. The wind had scoured the edge of the ridge, stripping it of all but slivers of snow caught in the crevices. Luckily there was no wind tonight to howl down the ravine and tear their fire to shreds, leeching the heat from their bodies.

He propped Orrade in a seated position against a knee-high boulder near the cliff edge, and laid the two spears across his knees so that it looked like he was dozing, with the spears at the ready. Then he strung the bow and left it leaning against the rock as well. It was the best he could do. He would have to leave his friend defenceless for a few moments while he collected fire wood. Byren prayed the ulfr pack didn't find Orrade before he got back and hopefully, if they did, his ploy would keep them at bay.

Despite his weariness, he set off at a run. In the depths of winter there was plenty of fallen dead wood and drifts of leaves which had been blown into hollows during autumn's storms. The trick was to find them under the snow. But he had spent many a day with the hunt-master and knew what to look for. He made three trips, starting a fire after the first. On the last one he selected a sturdy branch his own height and swung it menacingly because the pack were approaching, slinking from tree to tree. First one beast then another howled. Even safe by his own hearth, the sound would have