The King's Bastard - By Rowena Cory Daniells Page 0,90

the forest, running away from wyverns,' Piro whispered urgently. 'Do you think it was a vision?'

'That's silly. Wyverns live near water, not in the forest,' Fyn argued.

'They could have been freshwater wyverns.'

She looked so miserable he wanted to shake her.

'Byren will be fine. If you had a dream about a unistag confronting Byren, that might have been a vision. But not a wyvern.'

She managed a smile. 'You must be right. But, Fyn, I think my Affinity is getting stronger.'

Bitterness churned in him. He'd had to give up family and position because of his Affinity. He was the superfluous third son, when the king already had an heir in Lence, with Byren in reserve. Worse, his family didn't trust him. This midwinter at Rolenhold had convinced Fyn his place was with the abbey.

'Fyn?' Piro prodded. 'What's wrong?'

The weapons master blew the horn, signalling that it was time to go. Piro gave a little start of fright.

He hugged her. 'You'll be all right. Mother's been able to hide her Affinity all these years. You will too!'

Her tears felt wet on his cheeks as she kissed him.

'Oh, Fyn. I have such a bad feeling!'

He wanted to stay and reassure her but... 'Piro, I must go.' The abbey contingent was already marching, taking him with it.

'I know. Goodbye, Fyn,' she called, running a little way out the gates with him.

Then she fell behind as the masters marched the monks and acolytes down the steep road to Rolenton. They sang in time to their steps, the masters leading the chant. With the crisp morning air stinging his face and his fellow monks around him, Fyn felt a sense of belonging and realised, until today, he had not given up hope of returning home. Well, from now on the abbey would be his home. He had to forge a place there or be overwhelmed in the battle for position.

They were still high enough on Rolenhold's pinnacle for Fyn to look out across the fertile crescent valley of Rolencia. The Dividing Mountains curved away behind him, forming a half circle. In its hub was distant Mount Halcyon. The snowy-tipped peak stood like a beacon, glinting in the sun. In three days he would be there, safe in the abbey built into the side of the mountain.

As soon as they returned to the abbey, he would ask Master Wintertide's advice. As an acolyte, Fyn should have consulted the acolytes master, but he was a close friend of the history master. And that master had been watching him since they spoke on Midwinter's Day, smiling when their eyes caught. It worried Fyn more than he wanted to admit.

On Rolenton wharf they loaded up their sleds, strapped on their skates and prepared to set off across Sapphire Lake. Once across the lake they would travel the canal to Viridian Lake and Halcyon Abbey.

Because Fyn and Lonepine were the same height, they were usually paired together to pull a sled. Fyn helped his friend with his straps then turned so that Lonepine could buckle his.

'Don't bother,' Feldspar called, jumping down from the wharf to a snowdrift on the ice. 'I've been sent to find you, Fyn. Master Firefox wants you.'

'The acolytes master?' Surprised and a little worried, Fyn climbed back onto the wharf and wandered through the monks.

He found the acolytes master speaking with the history master and waited at a polite distance for them to finish. Farmer Overhill's son stood to one side, looking uncomfortable. Fyn felt sorry for him. It was bad enough joining the abbey as a six-year-old, but to be fifteen and to know as little as a six-year-old would be a nightmare.

The history master glanced once at Fyn, nodded in reply to something Master Firefox had said, then hurried away.

'There you are, Fyn Kingson,' Firefox greeted him, jovially. 'I can recall how troubled I was the year I had to find my place amid the priests, so I thought I'd put you out of your misery. This midsummer, when you give your vows, I will take you into my service. Training the minds of young acolytes is one of the most important tasks in the abbey.' He gave Fyn a friendly smile but his eyes were hard and meaningful. 'You could go far with me as your master. Few have the influence I wield.'

Firefox hinted that Master Wintertide's friendship would not further Fyn's career. But he had never expected that kind of return from friendship. Hiding his distaste, he gave the bow of an acolyte to