King Breaker (84 page)

‘Let’s find out, shall we?’ Fyn said. ‘We will stand on the Merofynity Stone under the linden tree just as our forefathers did, and you will see for yourselves if it welcomes us.’

A buzz of excitement travelled through the hall.

A little later, they approached the linden tree, dressed in simple white robes. Fifty common folk, drawn by lot, watched from the front ranks of the crowd. The nobles and merchants watched from horseback, and from the comfort of their carriages.

Barefoot to symbolise their connection to the land, Fyn took Isolt’s hand and they stepped onto the Merofynity Stone.

Abbess Celunyd and Abbot Murheg blessed them and Fyn and Isolt bent forward to be crowned. As they lifted their heads, Fyn summoned his Affinity. He felt the rush of power slide down his legs and pool in his feet, before flowing into the stone. It glowed under them, enveloping them in a beam of light which rose up through the linden tree and high into the sky.

The crowd gasped. Fyn turned to Isolt, took her face in his hands and kissed her, for all the world to see.

The crowd broke into a deafening cheer.

B
YREN WATCHED FROM
a vantage point high above the abbey, where the events in the courtyard seemed to be played out on a distant stage. At midday, amid pomp and ceremony, the abbot formally handed over custodianship of the kingdom to the abbess. They stood on a dais by the central pool. Byren had held out hope, but there was no sign of his sister or Siordun. Cobalt mounted the dais to receive the gods’ blessing. What had they done with Piro? How had they overcome Siordun?

Wafin came scrambling up the steep slope behind him, then crawled across the stone to stretch out beside Byren. ‘A message from the western lookout. They spotted a large force coming around the lake shore.’

‘Orrade?’

‘They think so.’

There were still some bands of Merofynians searching the slopes of Mount Halcyon. Byren didn’t want them stumbling across Orrade and the Snow Bridge warriors and racing back to Cobalt with the news.

‘Stay here and watch Cobalt,’ Byren told Wafin. ‘Report to me if he leaves the abbey.’

Returning to the gully, Byren gathered his men. When he reached the western lookout, they pointed to where Orrade had been spotted. Byren led his men down the slope, hoping to meet up with Orrade, but a band of Merofynians had found him first.

Dividing his men, Byren sent half of them to make sure none of the Merofynians escaped to warn Cobalt, the rest he led down to support Orrade. By the time they arrived, Orrade’s men had dispatched a group of around thirty Merofynians.

Byren drew Orrade aside to explain what had happened.

‘Betrayed?’ Orrade asked. ‘What of Piro and Siordun?’

‘There was no sign of them. The ceremony went ahead as usual. I didn’t recognise the abbess. Wasn’t she a little, plump woman?’

‘She was.’ Orrade nodded grimly. ‘Father used to say ambition and loyalty made poor bedfellows.’

‘Eh, I could do with the Old Dove’s advice right now. Seems every decision I make turns out to be wrong.’

‘You’ve had Sylion’s Luck since Merofynia invaded.’

By now Byren could see the majority of the Snow Bridge warriors in the clearing and scattered throughout the trees. ‘Where’s...’ He’d been about to ask after Florin. ‘Where’s King Jorgoskev’s daughter?’

‘Florin’s bringing her. The carriage slowed us down.’

‘Carriage?’

‘According to their customs, you’ve already looked her over.’ Orrade shrugged. ‘You won’t see her now until the wedding day.’

Byren didn’t want to think about the wedding day. He changed the subject. ‘Will Cobalt go home by boat or horse?’

‘If he takes a boat, he abandons his men and tradition. If Cobalt believes you dead, or at least reduced to leading a few survivors, he won’t change his plans. He doesn’t know you have four hundred Snow Bridge warriors at your command.’

‘Four hundred? Jorgoskev boasted he could put a thousand in the field on a day’s notice.’

‘Remember the trouble he had with the Affinity-touched? There was an uprising, and—’

‘Four hundred will have to be enough. I have around a hundred, but a third of them are injured.’

‘Your father used to break the journey back to Rolenhold at Steadford Castle. I hear the new lord of Steadford Estate owes his title to Cobalt. We need to ambush him before he can take sanctuary in the castle.’

Byren nodded. ‘We’ll march—’

‘You march,’ Orrade said. ‘You can’t leave an enemy at your back. Abbot Firefox serves Cobalt, and from the sounds of it, there’s been a coup in Sylion Abbey. I’ll remain behind with a hundred men. As soon as Cobalt marches out with his supporters, I’ll go to the abbey and install a new abbot and abbess, people loyal to you. Meanwhile, I’d better set a watch on the road around the lake’s shore. We don’t want Florin riding into the abbey and into Cobalt’s arms with the Snow Bridge kingsdaughter!’

‘Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?’

Orrade grinned. ‘That’s why you have me.’

But Byren knew why he hadn’t thought of Jorgoskev’s daughter. He didn’t want to think about the price he had to pay for these Snow Bridge warriors. With the abbess’s betrayal, it was just as well he had them. ‘I want to know what Cobalt did with Piro and Siordun. If they’ve hurt—’

‘I’ll hold the abbot and abbess personally responsible,’ Orrade promised. ‘You ambush Cobalt before he reaches the Steadford Castle. We don’t want a protracted siege. This has to be a decisive victory.’

A
TERRIBLE THIRST
woke Piro, combined with a pounding headache. At first she had no idea where she was. Then it all came back to her... the betrayal, and Byren walking into an ambush. When would Cobalt return?

Down here in the dark, she couldn’t tell how much time had passed. Except that she now realised that it wasn’t completely dark. Something shone through the pale blue material of her robe. She pulled out her pendant to reveal her glowing sorbt stone. She couldn’t focus her Affinity in the stone; if it was glowing, she had to be in the presence of a powerful seep.

They must have imprisoned her in Halcyon’s Sacred Heart, where the bodies of the most pious monks were interred to become one with their goddess. Fyn had told her how he’d led the lads down here to escape the Merofynian invasion. He’d found a secret passage through the heart of the mountain to the far side.

If she could just remember the details...

Ignoring the headache and nausea, Piro held the sorbt stone. It was only a small stone, and it cast a correspondingly small glow. She found a water-skin, and after drinking and washing her face, she felt a little better. Working on the assumption that she would find her way out, she slung the water-skin over her shoulder.

Something shimmered ahead of her.

By the stone’s silvery glow, she discovered a statue of an old man kneeling on a knee-high stone with his hands palm up in his lap. Of course, this was no statue. It was an honoured monk. His organs had been removed and his body had been preserved and placed on a plinth under one of the long fingers of stone that extended from the ceiling, growing drip by drip. According to Fyn, eventually the stone would meet the monk, encasing him in a translucent column.

As she studied the preserved monk, she heard footsteps on stone.

‘Piro?’ Cobalt called softly.

Startled, she darted around the kneeling monk. The deeper she went, the more completely the bodies were encased in stone, until they formed columns with the monks entombed inside.

The glow from Cobalt’s lantern reached into the huge underground cavern, helping her to see a little further ahead.

‘There’s nowhere for you to run, Piro.’

She froze amidst the columns, with their half-hidden profiles encased in stone. Heart hammering, she lifted her hand to cover her glowing sorbt stone.

‘I know you can hear me,’ Cobalt said. ‘I will find you.’

She crouched behind a monk and peered through the forest of columns.

‘My men routed Byren’s army in the forest. They brought me Byren’s head as a gift. I’m taking it back to Rolenhold to set on the spike over the gate.’

Bile rose in Piro’s throat. She’d failed her brother. Worse, her plan had led him into a trap.

‘I’m coming for you, Piro. Down here, no one will hear your cries for help.’

His unhurried steps approached. She crept further into the cavern.

‘King Cobalt?’ the abbot called.

‘I told you not to disturb me.’

‘This is important.’

Whispers, then... ‘Very well, hide, little Piro, but know this, there is no escape from Halcyon’s Sacred Heart. I
will
be back.’

Piro remained still as the light and footsteps faded. How dare they shut her away in Halcyon’s Sacred Heart? The only female who was allowed in here was the abbess...

That reminded her of how Fyn had found his way out.

Closing her eyes, Piro counted to ten, before uncovering her stone.

If she could find the sylion symbol on the far wall, she could escape.

When she reached the far wall, Piro made her way along, searching the carvings for... The sylion. The lizard had been portrayed dancing on a bed of flames.

Somehow Fyn had tripped the secret door. Determined to spring the catch, Piro set about prodding, poking and pressing the carving until it gave way and a panel slid open.

Now all she had to do was follow the lizards carved into the passage floor until she came out on the far side of Mount Halcyon. But there had been no such escape for Byren.

With a broken heart and tears streaming down her cheeks, she set off.

B
YREN PAUSED TO
get his bearings as they rode ahead of the army through the pine forest. ‘We can split up here...’ He frowned as he spotted Wafin running down through the pines.

He rode up the slope to meet the lad. ‘What is it?’

‘Thank Halcyon I found you!’ Wafin gasped, bending over to catch his breath. He lifted his head, cheeks pink. ‘Cobalt rode out of Halcyon Abbey when the bells rang for afternoon prayers. He rode at the head of around seven hundred men.’

‘No man sets off on a journey this time of day unless he’s forced to,’ Orrade muttered. ‘Cobalt must know about the Snow Bridge warriors.’

Byren cursed. ‘We’ve still got to cover the ground between here and the abbey.’

‘I’ll go straight to the abbey. All is not lost. If you’re lucky, you’ll trap Cobalt between your army and Chandler coming down from the spar.’

‘Chandler would have been here already, if he hadn’t run into trouble crossing the spar.’ Byren grimaced. ‘His mother was one of the few merchants who supported me. I wish I could have delivered him safely to her.’

‘You may yet.’

‘Not if my luck stays true to form.’

Orrade drove his mount closer to Byren’s so that their thighs touched. ‘I believe we make our own luck. I’ll be doing everything in my power to ensure you defeat Cobalt!’

‘Orrie...’ Byren grinned.

They parted, with Orrade making for Halcyon Abbey and Byren driving his army in a brutal forced march.

They ate as they walked, and they walked by starlight. Before long, they passed wounded Merofynians, who had fallen by the wayside. Their companions had tried to hide them in hollows and under fallen branches. Byren’s men wanted to pause to deal with the wounded Merofynians, but Byren did not have the time to spare. If they were too weak to walk, the men were no longer the enemy.

B
Y THE TIME
Florin arrived at Halcyon Abbey, it was dark. She found around seventy Snow Bridge warriors camped near the courtyard’s central fountain; it appeared the rest of the Snow Bridge warriors had ridden on with Byren.

As the carriage trundled in behind her, Florin turned to the scholar. ‘Rest here, Yosiv. I’ll go find Orrade.’

Directly opposite the gate, the abbey was built into the side of Mount Halcyon. Women weren’t allowed within the abbey, so she turned to her right, to the wing forming this wall of the courtyard.

A dozen Snow Bridge warriors stood guard at the central apartment. Once inside, Florin found another four Snow Bridge warriors on each side of the entrance to a large, crowded chamber. As she paused to look for Orrade, the low hum of worried voices greeted her. There was a high table on a dais directly in front of the door, and two long tables ran the length of the room.

At the nearest long table sat around a hundred and fifty monks. Halcyon’s fighting monks had been decimated by the invasion. As she recalled, Fyn had led the young boys to safety, and what she saw before her confirmed it. The monks ranged from the old to the very young, but half the table had to be under the age of twelve. At the far end, the youngest boys dozed with their heads on the table, reminding her of Leif, though it was a while since he’d been that small.

Directly in front of her was the high table, where about a dozen nuns and novices sat. Most had their backs to Florin. Orrade was not with them, but his travelling bag had been slung over the largest chair, so Florin made for that.

A tall woman wearing the white of Sylion Abbey, and the red stone torc of the abbess, sat at the closest end of the table. Her companions clustered around her, speaking softly.

‘He should have been back by now. We should go,’ a little old woman was saying to the abbess as Florin came up behind them. ‘We don’t want to be trapped here. What if the abbot—’

‘What’s this about the abbot?’ Florin asked.

All the women turned to look at her. Travel-stained and weary, dressed as a man with weapons strapped to her hips, she could not be more different from them in their pale blue and white robes. They were so stunned no one spoke.

‘You’re the abbess?’ Florin asked.

‘Yes, Abbess Zoraya.’ The woman rose. She was tall, but she still had to look up to Florin. ‘Who are you?’

‘I’m looking for Orrade.’ Florin saw she did not understand. ‘Lord Dovecote.’

‘Abbot Firefox went with him to release Pirola Kingsdaughter.’

‘But he hasn’t come out,’ the old woman told Florin. ‘He should have returned with the kingsdaughter by now.’