King Breaker (57 page)

It certainly hadn’t been like this, all disgusting tongue and probing hands. What was he doing to her bottom?

Shock turned to fury. She bit down on Elrhodoc’s lip and didn’t let go until he shoved her so hard she staggered. The back of her legs hit the pool and she lost her balance. Arms pinwheeling, she fell backwards, hitting the water with a smack that stole her breath.

What had made her think the water was warm? Shockingly cold water closed over her face and chest. Gasping for air, she scurried backwards until her shoulders hit the fountain’s statue.

‘You little bitch!’ Elrhodoc fingered his lip then pulled his hand away to find it covered in blood. ‘Why, you little wyvern whelp. I’ll teach you some manners!’

And he went for her. As she felt for her knife, Bantam’s voice returned to her.
Mulcy girl
.

Out of nowhere, Fyn yelled, ‘How dare you lay hands on my sister!’

Elrhodoc smiled slowly and Piro had the impression this confrontation was what he really wanted. She had been a means to an end.

She came to her feet and spotted her brother approaching from shore.

Elrhodoc hooked his fingers in his sword belt and rocked back on his heels, arrogance in every line of his body. ‘Your sister served Dunstany dressed as his page. Why, she’s just a bit of used cunny, fit only for f—’

Without warning, Fyn punched him in the stomach.

The captain doubled over, gasping.

‘Stop right there!’ the sturdy guard yelled as they both ran down the steps.

Fyn took a step back as the pair of them helped their captain to his feet. Piro studied them, but what she saw did not reassure her. The sturdy one was going to seed, as if the good life as a queen’s guard had corrupted him. The second one was younger and looked out of his depth.

Elrhodoc pushed their hands away and confronted Fyn. ‘I demand satisfaction. Or are you afraid to meet me?’

Fyn laughed, eyes glittering. ‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure.’

‘Fyn, no!’ Isolt cried, running up, just as Piro lurched to her feet with the same cry on her lips.

‘Isolt, help Piro inside and see that she doesn’t catch a chill,’ Fyn said, not taking his eyes off the captain and his two companions.

‘Don’t do this, Fyn,’ Isolt pleaded. ‘Elrhodoc won Mulcibar’s sword last midsummer’s day.’

‘I don’t care if he licked Mulcibar’s balls last midsummer’s day,’ Fyn said.

The crudity shocked Piro and silenced Isolt.

‘I am going to enjoy teaching you a lesson,’ Elrhodoc said. He gestured to his men. ‘You saw him strike me. I’m the injured party. I name the time and place. I say here and now, and I say swords.’

Piro gasped. Fyn was just seventeen. Elrhodoc was nearer thirty.

‘I don’t have a sword,’ Fyn said.

The seedy guard unbuckled his sword belt and tossed it to her brother.

‘Fyn, please...’ Piro pleaded.

He did not look at her. ‘Go with the queen, Piro.’

Isolt came over to the fountain pool and reached out to Piro, who waded through the water, teeth chattering from shock.

To Piro’s consternation, she saw Elrhodoc had drawn both his sword and knife, as was the Merofynian noble custom. Did Fyn even know his style of swordplay? Fyn had drawn the borrowed sword and was testing its weight. He hadn’t touched his knife.

Isolt steadied Piro as she climbed out of the pool and stood dripping on the grass. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes, but we can’t leave Fyn. Stop this.’

‘I can’t interfere in a matter of honour,’ Isolt whispered. ‘Challenge has been offered and accepted.’ She turned to the men, raising her voice. ‘I will be up on the terrace, watching this duel. And if anyone interferes, I will hang him from the linden tree. No... I’ll have him strangled like a common criminal and tossed in the sea, forever denied Mulcibar’s blessing!’

The young guard glanced to the seedy one. ‘Should we—’

‘Don’t listen to her, Seelon,’ Elrhodoc barked. ‘She’s just a silly little girl who needs to be shown that even queens should shut up and do what their men tell them.’

And, without warning he slashed Fyn’s face, ripping open his cheek.

Piro gasped. She glimpsed teeth and bone before Fyn slapped his hand to his face. Blood poured through his fingers and down his shirt.

‘Stop the duel,’ she cried. The slashing of Fyn’s cheek was meant to disable. The wound had to be bound or he would pass out from blood loss. ‘That’s not f—’

The ringing clash of steel cut her off as Elrhodoc followed up his first strike with a second and third.

Fyn deflected each blow, backing away with one hand pressed to his face.

Piro brushed past Isolt. ‘Stop this. You can’t—’

‘No.’ The seedy guard caught her by the arm. ‘You can’t interfere.’

The guards herded her and Isolt up the steps.

‘Stay out of the way, my queen,’ the younger guard told Isolt. ‘You could be hurt.’

‘Don’t worry. This won’t take long.’ The seedy one was clearly enjoying himself. ‘If the sight of blood offends you, don’t look.’

Piro ran up to the terrace, her sodden clothes and slippers squelching with each step.

The stone balustrade was warm under her hands, but she felt cold to the core, watching Fyn fight for his life. One part of her wanted to run for help, yet she could not tear her eyes off the duellists, not even for a heartbeat.

Fyn backed up until he was pinned against the hedge. He staggered as he took the full force of the captain’s blows on his blade.

Isolt moaned.

Piro wished she was big and powerful. Of course... ‘Resolute, come to me!’

‘Loyalty!’ Isolt cried.

Elrhodoc struck repeatedly, driving Fyn down to one knee.

Piro could not breathe.

The captain delivered what looked like a killing blow. Yet somehow, it skittered along Fyn’s sword, passing harmlessly to the side. At the same time, Fyn lowered his hand from his cheek, grabbed his knife and drove it up into Elrhodoc’s groin.

For a heartbeat no one moved.

Then the captain dropped his weapons, doubled over, staggered sideways and crumpled. As the guards ran across the grass to their captain, Fyn rose somewhat unsteadily. Piro and Isolt ran down the steps. Meanwhile, the guards rolled their captain onto his back.

‘He’s dead,’ the seedy one muttered. ‘Bled out like a pig with his throat cut.’

The young guard sprang to his feet. ‘Butcher!’

Fyn lifted his sword until the tip hovered at the guard’s throat. The point did not waver, but his words were hard to understand due to his injured mouth. ‘Did the duel not follow the code?’

‘You—’

‘Shut up, Seelon,’ the seedy one snapped. ‘Give me a hand with the captain.’ They picked up Elrhodoc’s body and carried him away.

Fyn swayed and fell to his knees, just as Resolute and Loyalty arrived. The Affinity beasts gave voice, troubled by the smell of blood.

‘Take Resolute and Loyalty back to the grotto,’ Isolt told Piro. ‘I’ll attend to Fyn.’

Piro wanted to help Fyn, but she’d seen the way Isolt looked at him, so she summoned her Affinity and lured the wyvern and foenix back to the grotto.

F
YN FELT NOTHING.
He knew half his face was hanging off, but he was strangely numb. Isolt leant over him, her plucked brows drawing together in concentration as she cleaned the wound and prepared to stitch it closed.

‘I’m going to have to put my fingers in your mouth to hold the cheek in place,’ she told him.

He nodded and concentrated on the doorway where a dozen horrified servants stood watching.

‘You killed him,’ Isolt whispered as she sewed.

He wanted to tell her he would kill Elrhodoc all over again if he had the chance, but all he could do was blink in response.

‘Thank you.’

He shook his head and went to reply. She saw he was determined to speak and removed her fingers from his mouth.

‘Not enough. Never enough.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Dunstany sent for Byren. Nothing I do is good enough.’

‘Oh, Fyn. He sent for Byren because—’

‘I failed you.’

She held his eyes. ‘You have never failed me, Fyn. Never. I—’

‘Out of my way, let an old man through,’ Dunstany said, hastening into the chamber. He faltered when he saw Fyn. ‘They’re saying you challenged the captain of the queen’s guards to a duel.’

‘Fyn fought a duel to protect me,’ Piro said, coming into the chamber behind Dunstany. She was wet through, and pale as milk, with bright spots of colour in her cheeks. ‘Elrhodoc insulted me. Fyn arrived in time to—’

The servants’ shocked comments drowned her out.

‘And Captain Elrhodoc?’ Dunstany asked, raising his voice.

The servants fell silent to hear Piro’s answer.

‘Dead,’ she said with relish. ‘Before the duel started, he slashed Fyn’s cheek to get an advantage.’

More muttering from the servants. Soon this version of events would be all over the palace and port, battling with the version Elrhodoc’s guards were sure to circulate.

Isolt’s busy fingers tugged at Fyn’s cheek as she stitched the wound. He winced now that sensation was returning.

‘There.’ Isolt tied off the thread.

Fyn tried to feel his cheek, but Isolt caught his hand. A line of throbbing fire ran from the side of his top lip, past his nose in an arc along his cheek bone and under his left eye, which wept tears.

‘See if you can drink this now.’ Isolt gave him some dreamless-sleep.

He tried to take the cup from her, but his hands shook.

She held the cup for him. Some liquid dribbled out the side of his mouth. She persevered until the cup was empty.

Then she stepped aside and Dunstany took Fyn’s face in his hands, studying the job Isolt had done. ‘Very neat. I’ve overextended myself every day since Piro arrived, but I’ll see what I can do. You’ll need to give me access to your Affinity, Fyn.’

He fought to concentrate as the room spun. Sefarra had said something important, something about predators... That’s right. ‘The queen’s guard needs a new captain, someone we can trust.’

‘I don’t trust any of them,’ Isolt muttered.

‘Make Cam your captain.’

‘The bay lord’s grandson?’ Dunstany thought it over. ‘That might just work.’

‘It will work,’ Isolt said. ‘He’s loyal, and any men who won’t serve under him aren’t worthy of being in the queen’s guard. I’ll send a message to him.’

‘Now, let me do what I can for you, Fyn,’ Dunstany said.

‘What’s going on here?’ Abbot Murheg demanded, thrusting through the servants. Halfway across the chamber, he saw the extent of Fyn’s injury, swayed and reached out for support.

Piro guided the abbot to a chair. ‘Lean forward.’

With brusque helpfulness, she pushed his head down between his knees.

P
IRO BATHED CAREFULLY.
By tomorrow, she would have bruises from Elrhodoc’s rough handling. She was lucky she didn’t have worse. When she entered her bedchamber, she found Dunstany waiting.

He helped her into bed, pulling up the covers around her. ‘You’re feverish again. I’m sorry, I’ve exhausted my Affinity on Fyn.’

‘Can’t be helped.’ She summoned a smile. ‘It’s an honour to have Lord Dunstany tuck me in.’

But it was Siordun who spoke. ‘I’ve heard from Lady Death, Piro. She has called off her coraxes, but I must return to Ostron Isle to meet with her.’

Dismay filled her. ‘You can’t leave us now.’

‘I have to. Not only is Lady Death expecting to meet the mage, but Milliner Salvatrix has sailed to Ostron Isle to deliver the imposter-Piro and she refuses to leave until she sees the mage.’

‘You need someone you trust with your secret on Mage Isle.’

He nodded. ‘There were two old servants who helped me when my master first died, but they passed away last winter while I was trying to stop Merofynia from invading Rolencia.’ His lips twitched. ‘I was hoping you’d fill that position.’

She was thrilled to think he trusted her and frightened by the responsibility. ‘I’ll do my very best.’

‘I know you will. You always do.’ He squeezed her shoulder. ‘I’ve booked passage to Ostron Isle. I may have to stay a while. The transition to the new elector was not smooth, and the death of the old Cinnamome comtissa has destabilised the balance of power between the five families. I think this is why Lady Death is testing her limits. I’ve told Gwalt to bring all pica bird messages to you.’

Piro was honoured. ‘Will you be back by the time Byren arrives?’

‘I hope to be but if not, I want you to convey the mage’s messages to him as well.’

Piro rolled her eyes. ‘He won’t like being told what to do by his little sister.’

Siordun grinned. ‘Byren is coming through the Snow Bridge pass west of Dunstany’s estate. I’m expecting him to arrive in another seven to ten days. When I sail, Gwalt will tell the servants Lord Dunstany has been taken ill and he’ll send the carriage to Dunistir Estate. In a few days, the Dunistir yacht will arrive at the palace with an invitation for you and Fyn to convalesce on Dunstany’s estate. Go there and wait for Byren.’

‘What of Isolt?’

‘She’ll be preparing the contracts and planning the celebrations to announce her betrothal. She’s safe here, now that Camoric is captain of her guards.’ He hesitated. ‘You’ll like Dunistir Estate, Piro. I grew up there and often went back when the mage visited my grandfather. These days I hardly ever visit and when I do, it is only as Lord Dunstany. Gwalt’s father, Old Gwalt, knows my secret. You can trust him.’

‘And your mother, surely she knows your secret?’

His mouth hardened. ‘She died.’

‘You should forgive her. She wouldn’t have been able to care for a child with so much Affinity.’

‘She sold me, Piro. How could she do that?’

The pain in his voice made her sit up and reach for him. ‘Siordun...’

He pulled away and strode to the door, where he hesitated. ‘That’s the first time you’ve used my real name.’

Then he was gone, sailing to confront Lady Death herself. Piro shuddered.

Chapter Forty-Seven

F
LORIN TRIED TO
focus on something other than her nausea. They’d camped near the cloud-shrouded summit of the Snow Bridge’s southern pass, where the sky really did meet the earth. As the sun rose, the mist took on a beautiful pearly glow.