King Breaker (86 page)

‘You saved my life last night,’ Orrade said at last.

She shrugged.

‘You could have let me die and been a rich widow.’

She stared at him, shocked.

He laughed, then winced, his hand going to his bandaged head.

‘Are you sure you’re up to riding further? We could make camp.’

‘We go on,’ he said. With one arm in a sling and the bandage at a rakish angle on his head, he made her smile. ‘What?’

She shook her head. ‘It’s a pity that Byren’s not here to help heal you.’

‘The abbey’s healing master did what he could. But he would never have risen to become a master if the invaders hadn’t murdered most of the monks.’

‘To think of all that knowledge lost...’ Florin shook her head. She noticed Orrade’s expression. ‘What?’

‘You didn’t say “to think of all those lives lost.”’

She flushed. ‘Well, of course, I meant that as well. But I thought I didn’t need to state the obvious with you.’

‘My prickly mountain girl, you...’ He broke off and stood in the stirrups. ‘I knew it!’

They’d reached the crest, revealing the valley below, and the winding river which formed the border of Steadford Estate. From here they could see the two armies.

‘They’ve already engaged,’ Orrade cursed.

Fear for Byren made Florin’s heart race.

‘I’ll ride ahead with the Snow Bridge warriors,’ Orrade said. ‘You camp in the hollow behind us. When we’ve won, I’ll send a messenger. Bring the kingsdaughter, along with the abbot and abbess. They can declare Byren king and officiate the marriage.’

As Orrade turned his mount, she caught his arm. ‘I won’t be able to come to your rescue tonight.’

He gave her a wolfish grin. ‘Don’t worry about me, I still have to ride into Dovecote Estate, wipe out that nest of Merofynians, free my people and reclaim my home.’

He rode back along the column, shouting orders.

A few moments later, the Snow Bridge warriors marched past. Leading them were the four ursodon hornsmen.

‘You’re taking the ursodon horns?’ Florin was flabbergasted.

‘We’ve lugged them all this way. I might as well use them. Besides’—Orrade gave her a knowing look—‘why shed blood when intimidation will do the job!’

She shook her head as he rode off to go to Byren’s aid. What would Byren do without him?

What would she have done without Orrade?

‘P
IRO
?’

The foenix’s soft crooning almost drowned the words. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was or how much time had passed.

‘Piro?’

Resolute lifted his wings and nudged her. She rolled over to see Siordun kneeling about a body-length away from her on the grass, in a patch of afternoon sunlight. ‘Piro?’

She blinked. ‘How did you get here?’

Siordun gestured to the foenix, who had risen to his feet and was grooming himself. ‘Resolute came to the ship when he first spotted you.’

‘I thought you were in Merofynia.’

‘I was. I set sail hoping to get here for the midsummer’s ceremony, but missed it by a day. I spotted the
Wyvern’s Whelp
in Port Cobalt and...’ He gestured down the slope to Jakulos and several of the crew. ‘I wasn’t sure if it was safe to approach.’

‘Of course it’s safe.’ Piro rolled to her feet. Patches of grey floated in her vision. She swayed.

Siordun caught her. ‘You’re burning up.’

‘They shut me in Halcyon’s Sacred Heart. Can you get sick from too much Affinity?’

‘It appears you can. Why did they shut—’

‘Oh, Siordun, Byren’s dead...’ Sobs overtook her.

He let her cry. When she lifted her head he asked, ‘Who told you this?’

‘Cobalt.’

‘Did you see Byren’s body?’

‘No... You mean he lied?’

A smile tugged at Siordun’s lips.

‘Of
course
he lied!’ She felt like such a fool. ‘But the nuns really did betray us.’

‘Tell me from the start.’

When she’d finished, Siordun shook his head. ‘I should never have left you.’

‘I’m glad you did. Cobalt would have ordered you killed. Me, he...’ She shuddered.

‘Did he—’

‘He didn’t get the chance.’ A fierce anger rushed through her. Resolute lifted his head and raised his wings, giving voice. The cry echoed off the mountain behind them. Siordun glanced from her to the bird and his eyes widened. ‘Piro...’

‘Don’t you start.’ The fever swamped her, her vision swam and she swayed. ‘I just want to go home.’

‘Of course.’ He steadied her. ‘With any luck Byren will be sitting on your father’s throne by the time we reach Rolenhold Castle.’

But Piro had been thinking of going home to Mage Isle. The realisation stunned her. She grasped Siordun’s arm. ‘If Byren’s king, he’ll try to marry me off. I won’t—’

‘Don’t worry.’ Siordun’s dark eyes grew intense. ‘You won’t end up be a game piece.’

B
YREN HAD BEEN
leading skirmishes since mid-afternoon, and now they fought by the light of the burning carts.

The coming storm had brought an early twilight. Occasional flashes of lightning appeared in the underbelly of the low clouds. If the storm hit before he broke through Cobalt’s defences, they would be bleeding and dying in the mud.

Twice now, Cobalt’s men had broken through Byren’s encircling army and twice they had been beaten back. Byren was pretty sure some had escaped, but he did not have the men to spare to go after them.

At one point he’d seen flames in Tolton, but Chandler and Wafin’s men held the tollgate, just as Cobalt’s men held this side of the bridge.

Between the exhaustion and the leaping light of the burning carts, it was hard to tell who was an enemy and who was a friend, especially as there were Rolencians on both sides.

Byren would not put it past Cobalt to desert his army and flee, and that was why he had to make an end of this soon, before the storm broke. Having recalled his men to prepare for another assault, Byren mounted up and rode to address the enemy.

‘I know there are Rolencians in Cobalt’s ranks, and it grieves me to kill my own people,’ Byren shouted. ‘If you put down your weapons now and step beyond the barricades, I give my word you won’t be harmed. Think it over. Rolencians don’t kill Rolencians!’

‘You can talk,’ Cobalt shouted back. He’d hoisted himself onto the balustrade of the bridge and stood there in the torch light. ‘How can you lead heathen Snow Bridge warriors against good, honest Rolencians?’

‘King Jorgoskev is no heathen,’ Byren said. ‘He’s the first man to unite the city states of the Snow Bridge. He can put a thousand men on the battlefield at a day’s notice, and I’ll marry his daughter when I sit on my father’s throne!’

‘That’s right. You always wanted to steal your twin’s crown!’

The way Cobalt twisted everything infuriated Byren. He drew breath to refute it...

At that moment, a horse galloped up beside Byren’s. He’d been so focused on Cobalt that he’d barely registered the pounding hooves. Orrade’s mount pivoted and reared as he held the reins with one hand. The other was in a sling, and a bandage had begun to slip over one eye.

‘Byren is the one true king!’ Orrade shouted. ‘He killed Palatyne and freed the Rolencian seven-year slaves. Now he’s going to kill Cobalt and free Rolencia!’

Byren’s men cheered. And even though they’d no idea what was being said, the Snow Bridge warriors cheered too.

Orrade winked at Byren. ‘You make the mistake of trying to argue sensibly with a liar. Keep it simple.’

‘I was offering the Rolencians who serve Cobalt the chance to walk away with their lives.’

‘Good. Men who have no hope will fight to the death. It was Comtes Merulo who said the battle is won or lost in the hearts and minds of men.’ Orrade stood in the stirrups to shout. ‘I bring six hundred fresh Snow Bridge warriors to support Byren. They’ll be here in a few moments. You have until they arrive to lay down your arms and surrender!’

A muttering swept through the defenders. They’d fought all afternoon. They were tired, hungry and thirsty. They’d seen the men beside them cut down, but they’d held on. Now they faced a fresh enemy.

‘Will it work?’ Byren whispered.

‘We’ll see...’

A glow came over the rise as the first ranks of Orrade’s Snow Bridge warriors approached, bearing flaming torches. They marched four abreast, and out front four men carried huge horns, supported on straps across their shoulders.

At Orrade’s signal, the Snow Bridge army stopped marching. The ursodon hornsmen stepped out in front. Then a blast of sound rolled down the hill towards them. It felt like a wall of thunder. The ground seemed to vibrate under their feet as if the earth itself roared.

Byren’s Snow Bridge warriors cheered wildly.

‘Those bloody great horns!’ Byren turned to Orrade, laughing as Orrade’s Snow Bridge warriors kept marching over the rise. How long before it was clear there were less than a hundred of them?

The horns sounded again and men kept pouring over the rise.

A shout went up from the enemy, as Cobalt’s supporters fought to escape the defensive position. As soon as one man turned and ran, panic spread. Seeing Cobalt’s men desert, the defenders on the tollgate cheered.

Byren rode along his army, shouting. ‘Let them through. Let them pass.’

Chandler opened the tollgate and his men streamed out to attack Cobalt’s men on the bridge, as Byren led one last assault.

This time, even the Merofynians were disheartened. They threw down their arms and offered their services as seven-year slaves. It was a sweet turn-about for the men Byren had freed. A pity so few of them had lived to see it.

He rode up the rise and onto the bridge itself, searching for Cobalt. His cousin had been here only moments before, twisting everything Byren said.

‘Can you see him?’ Orrade shouted. He was having trouble controlling his horse with one arm in a sling.

‘No, can you?’

They dismounted and made a systematic search of the dead, in case he was hiding amongst them. Then they searched the captives but they could not find Cobalt.

Byren cursed fluently.

Orrade put a hand on his shoulder. ‘You’ve beaten him. Send scouts out to check the town and fields. He can’t have gotten far. I’ll go back and fetch your bride. You can be married on the battlefield!’

And he rode off.

Chapter Seventy

F
LORIN HEARD THE
horns from a great distance, echoing across the valley. The sound was both eerie and threatening. Even from this distance, she could see the defenders break.

Scholar Yosiv turned to her, his features illuminated by her torch. ‘He’s a clever man, your husband.’

Florin found it hard to think of Orrade that way. In her mind, you weren’t really married if you didn’t share a bed. The old scholar returned to camp and Florin returned to studying the distant battlefield. Byren must not fall now, not when victory was within reach.

A shout made her turn around. Men ran into the camp, their silhouettes dark against the two camp fires. Believing the enemy to be contained, Orrade had taken all but six of their escort. And the royal carriage was clearly laden with riches. Florin cursed and ran down the slope towards their fire circle.

The abbot called his monks, who snatched up their weapons. The abbess called her nuns to her and somehow the five of them were lost in the commotion.

Florin saw the Snow Bridge servants snatch up pots and flaming branches, but they were cut down. The attack had come on them so quickly there could be no concerted defence. She ran through the chaos, slammed her torch into an attacker’s face, then pulled a stunned acolyte to his feet.

Around the far side of the carriage, Florin was in time to see the old scholar help the veiled kingsdaughter climb down. Just then a man arrived, swinging a bloody sword.

Yosiv stepped between him and the kingsdaughter, and was cut down with one blow. The kingsdaughter cried his name and fell to her knees. The man grabbed her by her head-dress.

Florin could have left the kingsdaughter to her fate. No one would have known. But she couldn’t leave a woman at the mercy of a man like this.

Tossing the torch aside, Florin caught the man around the neck and ran him through. Even as he fell, Florin grabbed Skevlaxa’s arm and darted into the trees with her. The trunks were lit by the dancing flames of the burning carriage. Someone gave chase. Before he caught up with them, someone else came in from the side, tackling the kingsdaughter and driving her to the ground.

As he sat astride her, gloating, Florin swung her sword, taking his head off with one blow. Momentum carried her around to face the second attacker.

Seeing what she’d done to his friend, he backed off, then ran for the clearing. Through the trees, she could make out men putting out the flames so they could loot the carriage.

Good. That would keep them busy, and give her a chance to get away with the kingsdaughter.

Covered in blood and shaking, Skevlaxa struggled to push the dead man’s body off her. With a kick, Florin sent the headless body sprawling. She hauled the girl to her feet. The head-dress and veil had already worked loose, and now fell away, revealing...

The wrong kingsdaughter. Shocked, Florin stared at the oldest sister.

‘I knew it,’ the kingsdaughter whispered, unaware that Florin could understand her.

There was no time. Any moment, more men might come after them. Florin grabbed the woman’s arm, but she twisted free, bending to retrieve her head-dress and veil.

Florin drew her into the woods until the shouting faded. They had to pick their way in the dark; the woods were lit only by the occasional flash of lightning. Florin stumbled across a shallow brook and led the kingsdaughter upstream to cover their tracks. Finally, they both climbed out, drenched from the knees down, shivering and shaking.

Florin found a spot under the trunk of a huge fallen tree. She settled the kingsdaughter, then sat with her back to the woman.

What was Byren going to say?

Nothing. He was an honourable man.