King Breaker (80 page)

Loyalty uttered a piercing scream and charged into the chamber. The men scattered as Fyn wrestled with his attacker.This time he went for a choke hold and held on until he felt the man’s body go loose.

Fyn scrambled to his feet in time to see Travany backing away towards the door behind one of his men-at-arms. The wyvern reared up, wings rising, tail lashing.

Something moved in the corner of Fyn’s vision, and he ducked as Neiron tried to decapitate him. Fyn threw himself backwards, fell over the unconscious man and sprawled on his back. Neiron came in for the kill.

Loyalty lashed out with her tail, spun Neiron around and slashed him from shoulder to groin.

He dropped the sword and grabbed his belly. ‘Travany...’

His lordship ran. Neiron dropped to his knees and pitched sideways.

Stunned, Fyn stared as the wyvern dipped her head to Neiron’s stomach wound. The lord screamed as the Affinity beast tore his organs from him.

Fyn froze in horror and backed away, scrambling to his feet.

In the corner of his vision, he saw the wild male wyvern land on the balcony rail. The beast’s call filled the room, pounding on Fyn’s ears.

Loyalty lifted her head then made for the balcony. Fyn just had time to leap onto her back as she ran past. A pounding filled his head as Loyalty leaped onto the rail and into the air, climbing into the sky with the male wyvern at her side.

Fyn dared one glance behind him, saw angry men rush onto the balcony. Cursing and waving their swords, they were all bravado now that there was no chance of engaging with the Affinity beasts.

Loyalty and the wild wyvern circled, climbing higher in a great arc before heading out over the bay. Fyn spotted the dull glow of Camoric’s shielded lanterns. His vessel lay in a secluded inlet, but Loyalty kept going.

The rush of cold air seared Fyn’s face, making his eyes water. If he fell now, there would be no hope for him. He hunched down low and held on.

Before long, he felt Loyalty spiral down, lower and lower, not that he could see a thing. The wild wyvern uttered his mating cry and this time, Loyalty’s response was an answering cry.

Without warning, she tilted her body and gave a shake. Fyn lost his grip, falling into space. He was going to die...

A heartbeat later, he hit grass and rolled down a slope, grunting with the impact. He lay sprawled on his back gasping, with no idea where he was.

‘Fyn?’ Isolt’s questing hand landed on his thigh. ‘Fyn, are you hurt?’

‘No. Are you?’ He sat up, pulling her close.

‘Oh, Fyn...’ She wept and cried with joy. ‘I thought I’d lost you.’ She kissed his nose and cheek before she found his lips. It was a desperate, hungry kiss.

An impossible joy coursed through him. Light-headed with relief, he broke the kiss to confess, ‘I love you. I’ve always loved you. When I saw you in the Fate—’

‘What fate?’

‘Halcyon’s Fate. I had a vision of you. But I didn’t dare hope you felt—’

She silenced him with another kiss and her body told him what he needed to know. Her determined hands found their way inside his clothes. He’d had no idea skin could be so sensitive.

There was a point when he could have stopped, but she pulled him down to meet her. And then...

He thought he was the luckiest man alive.

Chapter Sixty-Five

B
YREN BRACED HIS
legs as the deck dipped and rose. He had not been able to sleep, knowing that Orrade shared Florin’s cabin. The fact that she was sea-sick made no difference. It should have been him looking after her.

Lantern light gleamed on the captain’s rain-wet cheeks and sealskin vest as he studied the southern sky. Brooding clouds filled the horizon, illuminated from within by bolts of lightning. There would be no true dawn today.

Bantam closed the farseer and raised his voice, yelling over the driving wind and rain. The big boatswain bellowed, the sailors trimmed the sails by half and the ship groaned as the helmsman changed course.

Byren stepped close to the captain, but even so, he had to shout. ‘We’re turning back?’

‘I’m not risking my ship in those seas. I’ve signalled the other captains. We’ll make for Snow Bridge Bay.’

Byren cursed. It was just as well he had left with time to spare. In the face of the coming storm, all he could do was hold on as they made for safe harbour and pray the other captains also made it.

F
YN WOKE WITH
a shiver. He was covered in dew. From the distant wyvern cries, he guessed they were on same island as the eyrie. The sky had an odd grey tone, as if it was dawn, but heavy cloud prevented the sun from piercing the gloom. Isolt slept naked in his arms. She shivered in her sleep.

He rubbed her back, running his hand along the sweet curve of her hip and thigh, and suddenly he wasn’t cold any more. She stirred, opening her eyes. He saw memory return to her and her cheeks coloured.

Fyn kissed both pink cheeks. Their eyes met and he felt the heat of desire flare between them. Pulling her close, he marvelled that he could do this.

Her stomach rumbled and he recalled that she hadn’t eaten since the day before yesterday. ‘You must be starving.’

He found his shirt and draped it around her shoulders. They had spent the night in a hollow, in a field of tussocky grass. A seagull called and he followed it up the rise to find the land fell away to a small rocky beach. He stepped behind a bush to relieve himself.

A moment later Camoric’s yacht come around the headland. Fyn waved. He saw the captain lower his farseer and laugh. Reminded that he was naked, Fyn hurried down the slope into the hollow, where he gathered his clothes. The sight of Isolt standing there in nothing but his shirt, her hair all atumble, robbed him of thought.

She laughed and held out her hand. ‘My nightrobe?’

He passed it to her. ‘Camoric is here.’ As he spoke, he pulled on his breeches, had to tuck himself to one side to get the laces done up. He looked up and caught her watching, fascinated.

They both smiled and he felt the powerful pull of desire. He caught himself wishing Camoric had not found them.

Then Isolt’s stomach rumbled again. He buckled his knife belt and tugged on his boots. When he looked up, Isolt was dressed in her thin nightgown. She offered him his shirt.

‘You wear it.’ He lifted her hair and draped his shirt around her shoulders. Then he just had to kiss the back of her neck. She relaxed against him and his arms slid around her. ‘I never want to let you go.’

She went very still. ‘Then don’t.’

His arms tightened. Voices reached them from the beach and he stepped back. ‘Ready?’

She nodded. Taking her hand, he knew what he was about to do would change everything, but he didn’t see how it could be any other way.

They reached the crest, to find a rowboat on the beach.

‘Over here,’ Camoric called.

Fyn helped Isolt down to the beach, then jumped onto the sand beside her.

The captain joined them. ‘I thought the plan was to come back to the yacht.’

‘The plans have changed,’ Fyn said, meeting Isolt’s eyes; hers brimmed with laughter. There was no going back. ‘As ship’s captain you can marry us.’

‘I can, but... are you sure?’

Fyn reached out to Isolt.

She took his hand. ‘I was never more sure of anything in my life.’

Camoric laughed, then rubbed his scarred jaw. ‘What of Byren?’

‘Merofynia cannot have an absentee king,’ Isolt said. ‘I’ve made my choice.’

‘Besides, how many kingdoms does one man need?’ Fyn asked, then changed the subject. ‘How did you find us?’

‘I thought Loyalty and her mate might have come to the wyvern eyrie, and here you are!’ Camoric said. ‘But we haven’t seen Loyalty.’

‘I hope she’s all right,’ Fyn said. ‘We...’

Isolt’s lips parted in a secretive half smile. ‘Loyalty’s fine.’

Of course... They shared the bond and both had taken a mate last night. The ramifications should have shocked him, but Fyn found he didn’t care. He found Isolt endlessly fascinating.

‘You were going to say?’ Camoric prodded, with a grin.

‘We should get back to the palace.’ Fyn had to let the mage know there was no need for Siordun’s help. He offered to help Isolt into the rowboat. ‘My queen.’

She smiled. ‘My king.’

P
IRO HID IN
the conservatory, waiting for Varuska to come down to breakfast so she could ambush her. Somehow she had to make Varuska see they had to deal with Cobalt. Despite her urgency, Piro fought a yawn and failed. She’d had a nightmare about wyvern riders, and men torn apart and devoured... She shuddered.

Piro heard Siordun approaching and darted through the ferns and exotic blossoms, to return to the breakfast chamber. She was determined to tell him about Kaspian and confess her part in the bonding.

‘There you are, Piro.’ Siordun looked worried. Had Nefysto already told him? ‘Bad news. Isolt has been kidnapped.’

Piro gasped. It was the last thing she’d expected and she said the first thing that popped into her head. ‘Poor Fyn.’

Siordun did not ask what she meant.

‘Was it Neiron?’

‘We think so. I have to leave right now. You’ll have to go to Rolencia without me. I’ll meet you there are soon as I can. Is Varuska ready to play her part?’

‘She’s afraid of Cobalt. But she’ll come around.’

‘Good. Everything is in place. My Rolencian agent says the abbess is eager to help you bring down Cobalt.’

Piro nodded, wondering how she would get on with these two women, both formidable in their own way.

‘Piro?’

‘Yes?’

‘Have you had any visions? With Byren about to reclaim his throne, there has to be a nexus point coming up.’

She gasped, reminded of her nightmare. ‘I’ve done a terrible thing.’

‘Oh, Piro.’ He laughed, took her shoulders in his hands and kissed her forehead.

‘What was that for?’ she asked, stunned.

He shook his head. ‘You must be very careful. If you do have visions of the nexus point, let me know. I’ve told Soterro that he is to treat your words as my orders.’

She was honoured and a little overwhelmed. ‘I’ll do my best.’

‘I know you will,’ Siordun said, then grew serious. ‘You’ll be fourteen on midsummer’s day, old enough to be betrothed.’

She pulled away. ‘I’m your apprentice, I don’t have to marry to further my family.’

Siordun opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of what he’d been going to say. ‘I should go.’

Piro watched him leave, wondering if he and Byren had cooked up some plan to marry her off. It infuriated her. She’d thought all that nonsense had been laid to rest.

‘Was that Agent Tyro’s voice I heard?’ Nefysto asked.

‘Yes. He’s returning to Merofynia. I’ll be leaving for Rolencia as soon as Varuska is ready.’

‘She’s not going,’ Nefysto said. ‘She’s already faced death because of the Rolencian royal family.’

‘If I could just talk to her—’

‘She doesn’t want to talk to you. She wants a quiet life.’

‘I promise she won’t have to speak to Cobalt. All she needs to do is stand next to me. We’ll be under the protection of the abbess.’

‘No, Piro. Haven’t you done enough damage?’

She flushed and tears stung her eyes. ‘I told you I was sorry.’

‘Kaspian did not come back last night.’

She felt terrible.

‘I’ll book passage for you.’

Piro flushed. Clearly Nefysto was keen to get rid of her.

The following day, before she sailed, Piro knocked on the door of Varuska’s chamber. ‘I must speak with you.’

‘I know what you’re going to say and I don’t care who rules Rolencia. I wish I’d never heard of our family connection!’

‘But we are family. We need you.’ There was silence, and Piro grew hopeful.

‘Anatoley was my family. My sister grew hungry for a crown and look what happened to her!’ Varuska bit back a sob.

‘I’m sorry about your sister.’

‘I’m sorry, too. The price you pay to play Duelling Kingdoms is too high.’

Piro leant her forehead on the door. She’d lost her brother, mother and father. Tears stung her eyes. ‘You’re right. Stay here. I’ll let the mage know.’

Siordun and his Rolencian agent would have to tweak their plan. Piro set off for Mage Isle to send the pica birds. She took Old Gwalt’s chest, containing the documents establishing Siordun’s right to Dunistir Estate, and placed it in the library with all the other document cases. Then she went to the top of the tower, where she found Cragore tending to the pica birds. He eyed her resentfully.

‘Good, you’re here,’ Piro said. ‘I need you to send a message to both Rolencia and Merofynia.’

‘I can send it to the
Wyvern’s Whelp
, too,’ Cragore boasted.

‘Really?’ She’d known that, but she managed to look impressed.

He indicated a cage. ‘It takes a deeply bonded pica pair. Lady is so smart she can find her mate on a ship anywhere on the Stormy Sea.’

‘Lady?’

He flushed.

Piro stroked the bird. ‘She suits her name.’

Mollified, Cragore tended to the picas. While he taught the birds to memorise the message about Varuska, Piro headed down the steps.

A moment later, Cragore called after her. ‘There’s news from Merofynia. Fyn has married Queen Isolt.’

‘What?’

He nodded. Full of importance, he announced, ‘I must tell the mage.’ And he ran down the stairs.

She let him go, secure in the knowledge that Soterro would cover for Siordun. Meanwhile, she ran back up the steps.

Byren needed to know he was free to marry Florin. Piro made up a simple rhyme and sang this to Lady before releasing the pica bird. Now Byren would be happy, too.

Feeling pleased with herself, Piro boarded the ship bound for Rolencia.

B
YREN PACED HIS
ship’s deck. Dawn revealed Snow Bridge Bay, but no more ships had arrived overnight. For two days a fierce storm had raged. Even here in the protected waters behind the headlands, the ships had been tossed about like corks. Of the six vessels that had followed the
Wyvern’s Whelp
through Mulcibar’s Gate, only three had made it into the bay.