King Breaker (71 page)

He ran the skiff aground, planted the anchor and helped Favkir with the old man. Now that they were safe, Inac had stiffened up and could hardly move.

A gust of wind knocked the old man off his feet. Garzik lifted Inac across his shoulders. Despite his height, the old man didn’t weigh much. Garzik forged uphill in the driving rain and wind, with Favkir stumbling along at his side, trying to help.

Another flash of lightning illuminated the long-hall. Favkir thrust the door open, and Garzik staggered in, followed by a swirl of wind and rain, and a clap of thunder. So much for slipping in quietly.

Everyone turned. Garzik flicked wet hair from his face and eased Inac from his shoulders. Olbin strode over, taking the old man from him. Favkir swayed and shivered.

‘Wynn!’ Luvrenc greeted him with relief. ‘Who—’

Garzik turned to Lauvra. ‘They’re from Dalfino. This is Inac Storm-warner, he—’

‘Everyone has heard of the storm-warner,’ Lauvra said.

The crowd gasped and whispered excitedly. Children, raiders, the old and the beardless all gathered around. Lauvra ordered them to bring blankets. Then she drew Favkir and Garzik over to the fireplace, where Olbin had placed Inac in a chair. She saw to the old man’s needs first.

Ilonja and Luvrenc pounced on Garzik. Ilonja thumped him on the arm. ‘You set sail without us!’

‘How could you?’ Luvrenc also thumped him, then hugged him. ‘Then this storm came up. We thought you lost for sure!’

In a flash, Garzik understood how Rusan had covered his escape. They would have assumed he’d been lost at sea, trying to reach Dalfino Isle.

‘Enough.’ Feodan shepherded Ilonja and Luvrenc aside, then turned to Garzik. ‘You haven’t been gone long enough to reach Dalfino Isle, and they would never part with two Affinity-touched. How is it that you brought them back here?’

‘They were trying to escape Vultar and his renegades,’ Garzik explained, aware of Rusan watching him intently. ‘Apparently, Vultar’s been kidnapping other Affinity-touched. They were swept out to sea and—’

‘And you rescued them!’ Olbin shook his head, amazed.

Garzik nodded.

‘You’ve done us proud,’ Feodan said. ‘They owe us seven years of service.’

‘He didn’t tell you the whole of it.’ Lauvra joined them. ‘Inac says Wynn sailed into a battle between nennirs and ospriets, to pluck them from certain death.’

‘Clever little Wynn!’ Olbin lifted Garzik off his feet, hugging him so tight he saw stars.

Rusan laughed. ‘Put him down before you crack a rib.’

Olbin released him, and Garzik staggered.

‘He’s exhausted. Come here.’ Lauvra swung an arm around him. ‘Luvrenc, get him something to eat before he drops.’ She sat Garzik down next to Inac and wrapped a blanket around him.

Then she sent everyone but the elders away.

Inac struggled to stand. ‘By the Utland code, you have our service for seven years and we do not begrudge it. But there are two of us, and our people are now without a Power-worker. Can you send my grandson home?’

Lauvra glanced to the elders. ‘We can’t do that, Storm-warner. You’ve seen too many winters. If we sent the lad home, we might lose you within a year. We have a duty to our people.’

Inac nodded as if he’d expected it. As he sank into the chair, Garzik noticed Favkir studying Olbin and Rusan.

‘You stare at my sons?’ Lauvra said.

‘Why are they almost beardless?’

Lauvra and Olbin laughed.

Rusan rubbed his jaw. ‘We shaved off our beards to disguise ourselves as hot-landers and ventured into Port Mero—’

‘You sailed into the hot-landers’ port?’ Favkir was astounded.

‘And escaped with a full hold,’ Olbin said, slinging an arm around Rusan. ‘So don’t let this lack of beard fool you. We’re men, not boys!’

Garzik grinned. It was good to be back, and thanks to Rusan, he hadn’t disgraced himself.

Chapter Fifty-Eight

B
YREN STEPPED OVER
a bloody patch on the marble. No wonder these elegant Merofynian great houses had fallen like ninepins. All the lords’ wealth had gone into display, not defence. His mountain girl would not have been surprised to learn this was the second time since spring that Nevantir Estate had been overrun by spar warriors. Maybe, this time, the lord would learn.

Without Florin’s no-nonsense presence at his side, Byren felt like half of him was missing, which only confirmed he’d been right not to send for her.

‘Up here,’ Orrade called from the balcony.

Byren ran up the grand staircase, flexing his hand. Despite the healing, it ached. Now that the battle was over, he felt all his old wounds.

‘Neiron is planning to free Elenstir Estate.’ Orrade met him at the top of the stairs.

‘Istyntir is closer.’

‘They’re about the same distance, but Istyntir juts into the Landlocked Sea.’ Orrade lowered his voice. ‘And I gather Elenstir’s lord is a friend of Neiron’s, while Lord Istyn supports Dunstany.’

Byren shook his head in disgust. ‘If they can’t put aside internal politics to face a common enemy, they deserve to lose their kingdom.’

‘It’s your kingdom they’re throwing away. He’s in here.’ Orrade slowed his steps as they approached a door.

Byren could hear male voices and he recognised the tone of men making plans to kill and claim or, in this case, reclaim.

Orrade caught his arm. ‘Don’t expect heartfelt thanks. Neiron’s furious with you for freeing his seven-year slaves.’

‘I freed men whose only crime was to defend their homes,’ Byren said, making sure his voice carried. ‘I freed them to help reclaim this estate. While his lordship was sitting on his arse, those freed slaves swept over the rise and broke down the barricades.’

He strode into Neiron’s war-table chamber to find the Merofynian lord stood behind his desk, illuminated by a single lamp as he studied a large Duelling Kingdoms board.

‘I had everything planned,’ Neiron said. ‘Then you marched in and threw everything out.’

Byren was not about to apologise. With the ex-slaves and Yorale’s men, Byren’s followers outnumbered Neiron’s three to one. And he was sick of wasting his time in Merofynia, while Cobalt still sat on his father’s throne.

Byren held Neiron’s gaze. ‘I’m thinking you need to rephrase that.’

Neiron stiffened, and both his captains reached for their sword hilts.

Orrade took a step closer to Byren.

Chandler arrived to report. ‘The outbuildings are all secured and the men are breaking open the food and wine. Should I try to stop them?’

Byren met Neiron’s eyes across the desk. ‘Men who’ve fought and bled to free a lord’s estate deserve a reward. Wouldn’t you agree, Neiron?’

The lord swallowed as if he’d tasted something bitter and gestured to one of his captains. ‘Tell Cook to prepare a victory feast. Tonight we celebrate in the great hall.’

The man nodded and ran off.

‘Now what’s this I hear about marching for Elenstir Estate?’ Byren went over to the kingdoms board and indicated Istyntir Point. ‘We can’t leave the enemy at our backs.’

Neiron rubbed his jaw. Byren waited, ready to marshal more arguments.

But Neiron conceded. ‘You’re right. Come join me in the great hall. This is a night for celebration.’

As Byren fell into step with Neiron, he caught Orrade’s eye. His friend nodded once. The Merofynian noble had capitulated too easily. They’d have to watch their backs.

G
ARZIK STOOD ON
the upper floor of the long-hall, watching for Rusan’s signal. For two days, Inac had been bed-ridden, exhausted by his deprivations. But today the old man was well enough to get up, and tonight the settlement planned to formally welcome the two Affinity-blessed and accept their oaths of service.

Through the crowd in the hall below, Garzik saw Lauvra signal Rusan, who sent Garzik the signal he had been waiting for. He returned to the room where Inac and Favkir waited. They looked ill-at-ease in the fine clothes Rusan had given them.

‘It’s time,’ Garzik said.

‘Let me see you.’ Inac turned his grandson to face him and adjusted the thigh-length velvet tabard.

Rusan had thought he was honouring the two Affinity-touched with these gifts. Garzik did not have the heart tell them the tabards were what high-ranking servants wore in Merofynia. In a way, it was appropriate, since the old man and his grandson were seven-year slaves of the most valued kind.

‘You look fine,’ Inac said.

Favkir snorted. ‘I don’t look like myself in these hot-land clothes, and neither do you.’

‘A good thing. Now listen, the next seven years will fly by. No... really. You’ll be surprised. Smile, try to get on. This could be the worst time of your life, or it could be something to look back on with joy.’

For a heartbeat, Favkir’s chin trembled and tears filled his strange ice-blue eyes, then his mouth hardened and he nodded. ‘I won’t let you down, grandfather.’

‘Don’t let yourself down.’

Garzik led them out along the balcony then down the steps. Wild cheering greeted them. Garzik’s heart raced and his spirits lifted.

The elders sat in a semi-circle at one end of the long-hall. Lauvra stood before them, flanked by her sons and brother.

Inac approached, then stood tall. ‘Lauvra of the Wyvern People, your raider saved us from Affinity beasts and the sea. We thank you for giving us back our lives and offer our skills and services for seven years.’

‘Welcome, Inac and Favkir of the Dalfino People,’ she said. ‘You will be our honoured guests. We value your service. When you return to your people, you will go home laden with gifts. While you are here, you will have an honoured place at our table.’

She signalled Ilonja, who led them over to two chairs near the elders. Garzik’s stomach rumbled and he glanced to the kitchen door. Judging by the rich aromas coming down the passage, dinner was ready.

Lauvra signalled for silence and nodded to her two sons.

Looking very solemn, Rusan and Olbin came over to Garzik.

As they led him out to stand in front of the elders, and Lauvra and Feodan, Garzik’s heart sank. If Rusan had reconsidered and revealed the truth, everyone would know he was a fraud.

He couldn’t bear to let them down.

But a grin pulled at Olbin’s lips as he put his hand on Garzik’s shoulder. ‘Thanks to Wynn, we took a gamble and entered Port Mero.’

Rusan’s crew cheered and Garzik winced. His motivation had hardly been pure. He’d meant to escape with Trafyn, and Rusan knew it.

Even so, the captain put his hand on Garzik’s shoulder. ‘Thanks to Wynn, I was alive to lead the escape from Port Mero.’

Rusan’s crew cheered again. Garzik noted Vesnibor and Dizov standing in the shadows under the balcony. Had they made a mistake, letting those two live?

Feodan gestured to Garzik. ‘Thanks to Wynn, Inac Storm-warner and his grandson Favkir have given us seven years of service.’

Heat raced up Garzik’s face.

Olbin and Rusan exchanged a look. Rusan grabbed his right arm and Olbin grabbed his left. As one, they lifted his arms above his head and shouted in unison. ‘We name Wynn our brother!’

‘Brother!’ the hall echoed—feet stamping, tankards clanking.

The brothers turned Garzik one quarter of a circle, raised both his arms again and shouted, ‘
Brother!
’

The crowd echoed the cry.

They turned him again and he realised they were telling the four quarters of the world so there could be no doubt.

He was so proud, yet at the same time, he wanted to sink through the floor. He had not even given them his real name.

As the last echo faded, they turned him to their mother and Lauvra held her arms open. Garzik had not known his own mother. Queen Myrella had been like a mother to him. When Lauvra swept him into her embrace, he felt the same unconditional love and he knew he was not worthy. Tears of shame filled his eyes.

Lauvra pulled back, saw his tears and kissed each cheek. ‘Bless you, Wynn of the Wyvern People. I name you my son.’

Feodan pulled him into a hug. ‘I name you my kin.’

A heartbeat later, Luvrenc hugged him, repeating the same phrase. ‘I cursed when you went to Dalfino Isle without us, but I never guessed you’d bring back Affinity-touched!’

Garzik did not think it could get any worse.

Rusan and Olbin laughed and called for wine, and Sarijana stepped forward to sing, but Lauvra told them to wait.

She looked to the elders, who gave a single unanimous nod.

Smiling she turned to Rusan, Olbin and Garzik. ‘The elders are agreed. You three have earned the right to take a wife.’

Rusan’s gaze went to Sarijana. Stricken, she stepped back and went to join the beardless, who closed ranks around her.

Olbin swayed and would have staggered, but Garzik supported him.

After that, they feasted. There was drinking—much drinking—and singing, and there was weeping over the fallen, then more drinking.

Garzik lost track of time. He saw the night in snatches. Singing on a stool. Dancing on the table. Falling off. Captain Feodan and his raiders falling asleep on the floor under the table. Olbin weeping on his shoulder. Rusan waxing philosophical.

Then some more serious drinking.

Towards dawn, head reeling, Garzik went outside to relieve himself. He walked down towards the shore to clear his head. The wood was stacked for Rusan’s ship. He leant against the wood to inhale the sweet smell of fresh-cut timber.

Rusan caught him and swung him around, slamming him up against the wood. ‘I covered for you once. I won’t do it again. If you abandon us now that we’re brothers—’

‘If you feel that way, why—’

‘It wasn’t my idea. Mother an’ Feodan...’ Rusan shrugged. Despite all the drinking, he barely slurred his words. ‘I had no choice. I had to go along with it. To do otherwise would have raised questions you don’t want to answer.’ He frowned. ‘I made you one of my crew. You swore an oath to me, Wynn. How could you—’

‘I had no choice. I had to go along with it.’ Garzik’s voice faltered. ‘But I’d already sworn to serve Byren Kingsheir.’