King Breaker (85 page)

Fear cramped Florin’s belly. ‘Where’s the mage’s agent?’

‘He didn’t come,’ the abbess told her. ‘Piro said he was delayed.’

This just got worse and worse. Florin shook her head. She gestured to the long table. ‘What happened here?’

‘Lord Dovecote’s warriors turned everyone out of the abbey. He had the abbess arrested and the mistresses chose me to replace her,’ Zoraya said. ‘Lord Dovecote was about to arrest the abbot when Firefox said that he was the only one who knew where the kingsdaughter was. He said if anything happened to him, she would starve to death alone in the dark. So Lord Dovecote took six men and the abbot, and went to save her.’

Florin understood why Orrade had gone, but she didn’t like it. ‘Come with me.’

Halfway across the courtyard, she spoke with Scholar Yosiv. ‘I need thirty armed men. I fear the abbot has led Orrade into a trap.’

The scholar selected an escort for Florin.

She strode through the ground floor archways into Halcyon Abbey, half expecting the abbess to protest. Before them, a wide staircase led to the floor above. There were so many doors and passages Florin’s heart sank. How would she find Orrade?

Turning to the men, she selected four to stay with her and sent the rest to look for him. Then she turned to the abbess. ‘What’s your best guess?’

She shrugged. ‘I’ve never...’

The clash of weapons cut her off. Florin took to her heels. As she ran along the corridor, the pounding of boots told her that the Snow Bridge warriors were right behind her.

Around a corner, through a chamber, the sounds grew closer. If she was too late...

Throwing open a door, she found Orrade, back to the wall, head bloodied, arm hanging useless, trying to hold off three attackers, while a monk, presumably the abbot, looked on.

Orrade’s escort lay dead on the floor amidst the bodies of other monks, who must have hidden when the abbey was emptied.

Florin didn’t remember drawing her sword. She didn’t remember crossing the chamber. The first thing she knew, she was pulling her sword from a dead monk’s back.

Snow Bridge warriors dealt with the rest of the attackers.

She stepped over the body, going to Orrade.

He was pale but pleased to see her. ‘My sweet lady-wife, come to save me with her sword dripping blood.’

Florin’s hands shook as she cleaned her sword. ‘What did you think you were doing, going off alone like this?’

‘The abbot was the only one who knew where...’ Orrade’s eyes widened. ‘No, don’t!’

She spun around to see one of the Snow Bridge warriors run the abbot through.

Orrade went ashen. ‘Poor little Piro...’ He swayed and nearly fell.

Florin caught him, calling for help.

‘Here, let me.’ The abbess pressed a cloth to the gash on Orrade’s head and guided him to a chair. ‘We need to stop the bleeding and get that arm set. You should send for the healing master.’

‘Can we trust him?’ Florin asked.

The abbess nodded. ‘He was out of favour with Firefox.’

Orrade grinned. ‘I think that’s a good recommendation.’ He sobered and turned to Florin. ‘I want every chamber searched. Send in as many Snow Bridge warriors as it takes. I don’t care if they have to open Halcyon’s Sacred Heart itself, I want Piro found.’

‘I’ll see that it’s done.’

Later that night Florin returned to Orrade to find him with his arm in a sling and his head bandaged, forging a new agreement with the abbot and abbess in Byren’s name.

‘We didn’t find Piro,’ Florin reported, heavy of heart.

‘Did you search everywhere?’

Florin nodded. ‘Even Halcyon’s Sacred Heart. There was no sign of her anywhere. If Piro was here, they’ve moved her.’

Orrade looked relieved. ‘You’re right. They could have hidden her in Cobalt’s supply wagons. First thing tomorrow, we ride. See how many mounts you can muster, Florin. If we’re to be any help to Byren, we must reach him before he catches up with Cobalt.’

Chapter Sixty-Nine

P
IRO STUMBLED OUT
of the cavern onto the side of Mount Halcyon early the next morning. Even though the sky was filled with sullen clouds, the light made her flinch and her eyes ached. Dimly, she realised she was still suffering from the blow to her head, but she was too weary, hungry and thirsty to think straight.

Power prickled through her body like a restless wind, making her skin itch and tingle.

Her hand went to the sorbt stone. Although it no longer glowed, she could still feel the residual power within it. No wonder her Affinity was giving her trouble. The stored power in the stone had been flowing into her. She should try and drive the Affinity back into the stone, but she already knew it was useless to try. Her power was like her grandfather’s, linked to Affinity beasts. It was all very well for Siordun...

Tears stung her eyes. She missed him. If he’d been here...

The new abbess would have probably colluded with Abbot Firefox to have him killed. She was glad Siordun hadn’t been with her.

Sinking onto the grass, she hugged her knees and stared out across the bay. Directly across from her, on the distant headland, stood Sylion Abbey. They’d betrayed her and she’d led Byren into a trap, when all she’d ever tried to do was help him. Now, with no one to see and judge her, she gave in to a fierce storm of tears.

Through her sobs, Piro thought she heard the cry of a foenix. She looked up to see it circling far above her. Resolute was with… her heart sank. If Byren was dead, then so was her foenix. Resolute had trusted her since the day he’d hatched and she’d sent him to his death. More sobs shook her.

When the storm of tears had passed, she looked up, but there was no sign of the wild foenix.

Sitting here was pointless, but where would she go?

Cobalt still ruled Rolencia and there was no way for her to get back to Merofynia or Ostron Isle.

She shivered despite the muggy heat, fighting the excess Affinity that coursed through her. Could you get sick from too much Affinity? She would have to ask the Affinity warder, but Springdawn had never liked her... What was she thinking? Her father’s castle had fallen and Springdawn was dead.

Piro pressed her hand to her forehead. She was delirious with Affinity fever.

A great down-rush of wind hit her as the wild male foenix landed less than a body-length from her. He folded his huge wings. The scales of his chest glistened like rubies in the sun. His crest rose and he turned his head side-on to observe her, just like...

‘Resolute?’ Piro came to her knees. Her pent-up Affinity surged through her body, sliding up her arms, making her skin tingle. Tears of relief poured down her cheeks as she opened her arms.

The foenix came to her, sank to his knees and swept his wings around her. His chest scales were wondrously smooth, like warm satin on her cheek. Sunlight glowed through the red feathers of his enveloping wings. She felt safe, as if she’d come home. Sinking her fingers into the fine downy feathers under his wings, she felt a rush of power roll from her into the Affinity beast, then return infused with the predator’s own power.

She’d bonded with her foenix. A soft crooning sound came from deep within Resolute’s chest. She’d never heard it before, yet it felt familiar.

Weariness swamped her. Resolute would protect her if she slept. She curled up under her foenix’s wings with his heartbeat against her ear and his Affinity enveloping her.

B
YREN REACHED THE
crest of the hill at midday. For some time, he had been thinking of calling a rest so his men could eat but he feared Cobalt’s army would make it across the bridge onto Steadford Estate before them. The new lord supported Cobalt, and Byren wanted to engage Cobalt before he could reach the lord’s castle.

As he’d hoped, from the crest he could see the broad river bordering Steadford Estate. The little township that made its living by offering accommodation to those who used the toll bridge appeared undisturbed. There was no sign of Cobalt’s army on the road that ran out of Tolton and across the rolling farmland before disappearing into the forest. Surely Cobalt could not have already crossed the bridge and made it into the woods?

Byren shaded his eyes. Starting from the bridge, he searched the road on this this side of the river, following it through rolling fields dotted with small farms. Again, no sign of Cobalt’s army until…

There, at the base of the steep hillside far below, he spotted Cobalt’s men.

‘We’ve nearly caught them,’ Wafin said, joining Byren. His face fell. ‘What if they cross the bridge? A small band of men could hold the bridge while Cobalt escapes!’

‘That’s why we have to hurry. We’ll trap them at the bridge. With their backs to the river they’ll have nowhere to run!’ Byren turned his horse. ‘You take the lead, urge them on.’

As Wafin rode on ahead, Byren rode back along the rows of marching Snow Bridge warriors until he spotted the military translator and told him the situation. Then he turned his horse and made for the head of the column.

At the crest, he saw the outriders and the leaders of Cobalt’s army following the winding road towards the bridge, which was still a good distance from them. If Cobalt was smart, he’d set up a rear-guard to delay Byren while his men crossed.

Driving his horse on, Byren began the descent. Halfway down, rounding a steep bend, he found Wafin watching from a lookout and rode up to join him while his men poured past.

The lad shaded his eyes. Menacing clouds gathered to the south, promising a storm, but the valley was still in sunlight for the moment. ‘The first of them have reached the bridge, but they’re not crossing, for some reason.’

‘Give me your reins. Climb that tree and see if someone has closed the tollgate.’

Wafin scurried up the tree, hooked a leg over a branch and shaded his eyes.

‘A band of men have closed the toll gate and are holding the bridge,’ Wafin yelled. ‘I bet it’s Chandler!’

‘I could kiss him,’ Byren laughed.

Wafin climbed down and mounted up again.

‘Stay here,’ Byren told him. ‘Give the Snow Bridge translator the news. I’ll ride ahead. We have them now!’

If Chandler could hold out.

Byren had no idea how many of Chandler’s men remained. But he put that thought from his mind as he rode down, shouting the news, urging the men on. This was his first piece of good luck since Merofynia had invaded—no, since his cousin Cobalt had returned to Rolencia.

On the valley floor, he caught up with his men and rode ahead, over rolling hills, past a worried farmer in his field, to the last rise before the bridge.

Here Byren sat in the saddle and watched as Cobalt’s stragglers ran up the road towards the bridge, where his cousin’s men had congregated, unable to cross.

The river was broad and swift and was inclined to flood the valley floor. No wooden bridge had withstood the regular floods for more than a few years.

Twenty years ago, Byren’s father had ordered the Royal Ingeniator to design a bridge. He had chosen two small hills roughly opposite each other, and built a bridge that not only spanned the broad river, but linked the hills as well. It had taken eleven years to build, and to cover the cost, a toll had been imposed on all those who used it.

On the far side of the river was Tolton. Built on the gentle slopes of the hill, it had serviced the army of men who built the bridge, and then it had serviced those who passed over the bridge. This side of the river, the hill had been quarried to build the bridge and the bank dropped away sharply.

Cobalt had used the sloping approach to his advantage, overturning the provision carts to create a barrier in a semicircle, and fanning his men out behind it. He held the high ground.

From here, Byren could see Chandler’s small band on the stone tower that housed the tollgate. Cobalt had overturned another cart just beyond the highest point of the bridge, and his men were attacking the tollgate from this position.

Byren hoped Chandler had enough men to hold the gate. What if the townspeople turned on them? What if Cobalt sent men to swim across the river upstream, and enter Tolton from the other side to attack Chandler from behind?

Byren took Wafin aside. ‘Find thirty men who can swim. Go back the way we came and make your way upstream around the bend in the river. Cross over and reinforce Chandler.’

As more of Byren’s men arrived, he divided them into three columns, sending some to the south and north of Cobalt’s men, retaining the third column for a central attack. With luck, he would be able to surround Cobalt’s army and crush them, though there was the concern that with Byren’s men spread so thinly, Cobalt’s Merofynians might be able to break through and make their escape.

Dark, brooding clouds blanketed the sky now, and the air was still with the promise of a storm. Despite the heat, Cobalt’s men worked feverishly to build up their defences. They cheered as they overturned another cart, strengthening the barrier across the road.

Byren could see Cobalt now at the bridge’s entrance. Secure in the knowledge that he was beyond bowshot, Cobalt climbed onto the stone balustrade and stood directing his men.

As Byren surveyed the scene, he was astonished to see half a dozen riders come over the rise from the west. They weren’t his scouts. Cobalt must have sent them to look for a merchant boat, or anything to ferry his men across the river.

Cobalt’s scouts charged the western arm of Byren’s forces, who stood no chance against mounted men riding downhill at a full gallop. The first rank of his men dived out of the way. Where his men were more thickly packed, the horses ploughed through them. Mistaking the screams, shouting and clank of metal for the signal to attack, Byren’s men on the eastern side charged Cobalt’s position. With no choice, Byren led his force up the road towards the overturned carts.

F
LORIN RODE AHEAD
of the column with Orrade. He had asked her to come with him, but they had been riding in silence for a while now. She was hot and tired, and wished the storm would break.