The King's Bastard (4 page)

No time for
if only
.

Byren plunged on. By the time he reached the edge of the ridge, the night was filled with the luminescence of stars. He gently lowered Orrade and tried to catch his breath as he surveyed their sanctuary.

Halcyon had favoured him, for he'd reached the ridge where it fell away into a steep ravine, too steep for the ulfrs to attack from that direction. This left him with a half-circle to defend. The wind had scoured the edge of the ridge, stripping it of all but slivers of snow caught in the crevices. Luckily there was no wind tonight to howl down the ravine and tear their fire to shreds, leeching the heat from their bodies.

He propped Orrade in a seated position against a knee-high boulder near the cliff edge, and laid the two spears across his knees so that it looked like he was dozing, with the spears at the ready. Then he strung the bow and left it leaning against the rock as well. It was the best he could do. He would have to leave his friend defenceless for a few moments while he collected fire wood. Byren prayed the ulfr pack didn't find Orrade before he got back and hopefully, if they did, his ploy would keep them at bay.

Despite his weariness, he set off at a run. In the depths of winter there was plenty of fallen dead wood and drifts of leaves which had been blown into hollows during autumn's storms. The trick was to find them under the snow. But he had spent many a day with the hunt-master and knew what to look for. He made three trips, starting a fire after the first. On the last one he selected a sturdy branch his own height and swung it menacingly because the pack were approaching, slinking from tree to tree. First one beast then another howled. Even safe by his own hearth, the sound would have been enough to make Byren's hackles rise. Out here, it made his stomach cramp with fear.

Byren returned to their camp, walking backwards so that he did not turn his back on the pack. He knew when he was getting nearer the camp because the leaping flames of their fire lit up the trunks of the winter-bare trees that grew along the ridge. When he reached Orrade, he found his friend still unconscious, but he must have moved because he had slumped dangerously close to the edge. Worse, he'd knocked the bow over the lip.

'Sylion's luck!' Byren muttered. Why hadn't he anticipated that? A surge of anger warmed him.

No point in berating himself.

Byren pulled Orrade away from the edge. Wrapping his friend's cloak more securely around him, he wedged Orrade's back against the boulder so he wouldn't roll towards the cliff. He didn't stir.

'Orrie?'

No answer, but the seer had promised he would live. It was up to Byren to make sure he had the chance.

'Melt some snow, heat some food,' he told himself. Somehow, he had to stay awake all night after trudging through the snow all day. As long as the fire held out they would be safe.

He hoped.

Byren glanced up. Stars filled the dark bowl above him with an effervescence of light. He would be able to tell the time by the progress of the wanderers, oddly coloured stars which travelled in erratic loops across the heavens.

Turning to face the night he checked on their enemies. Now and then he caught glimpses of fire-bright eyes reflecting back at him and knew the ulfrs waited, silent and grim for the first chink in their defences. Taking the large branch, he split the end and wedged his hunting knife's hilt in the gap, securing it. Tying off the cord, he used his teeth to be sure the knot was tight. The makeshift spear was not a thing of beauty but it was better than a hunting knife alone. It would be strongest driven straight on. The cord binding it to the branch would work loose with too many slashing strikes. Now he had three spears and all he had to do was keep watch.

He glanced at Orrade. 'Trust you to snore your way through the night, leaving all the watches for me.'

There was no answering snort or smart reply. Byren felt a stab of fear and guilt. If Orrade died old Lord Dovecote would be devastated and Elina would be heartbroken. His own heart sank for he had intended, once Lence's betrothal was announced, to tell Elina how he felt. The proud tilt of her chin came to him, making his body clench. How he wanted her.

He gripped the spear shaft and vowed he'd bring Orrade home safe and then he'd ask her. Have to get her a betrothal gift, something special. Perhaps he could give her the lincurium pendant. No, the wife of the kingson could not outshine the wife of the kingsheir. He had to give Lence's betrothed the pendant.

If he got through tonight - no,
when
he got through tonight, he would make his way to the fortified farmhouse, borrow a sled and take Orrade to Dovecote Keep.

Byren added another branch to the fire and imagined their arrival, the family rushing out to help carry Orrade inside, Lord Dovecote old and frail now, Elina concerned for her brother, grateful to him and Garzik... Byren winced. Fourteen-year-old Garzik adored his big brother. Garzik had been begging to go on raids with them for the last year.

They were all depending on Byren.

He stirred up the fire and watched the night.

Much later, the crack of a branch collapsing into the fire startled him. Byren woke with a jerk and sat up, dismayed to find the fire had burned dangerously low. Worse, a medium-sized ulfr was only three body lengths from him, creeping in low on its belly.

He leapt to his feet, snatched a brand from the fire and yelled to startle it. The beast spun on its haunches, retreating to the forest of bare trees.

A single large ulfr with a thick winter coat watched him unblinking from the tree line. It was bold enough not to retreat. He snatched a rock and hurled it. The ulfr sprang nimbly to one side, opened its jaws in a silent laugh then melted into the shadows. A moment later he heard it howl and the others answer.

He suspected he had just seen the pack leader. Like wolves, a male and female pair led each ulfr pack, dominating the others with their cunning and strength.

Byren felt shaky and sick as the surge of fear drained away, leaving him exhausted. He hadn't even realised he'd fallen asleep. Weariness still dulled his mind.

Concentrate.

Build up the fire.

'That you, Byren?'

Silently, he gave thanks to Halcyon and darted around the blaze to kneel next to Orrade. 'How d'you feel?'

'Wonderful!' he said, but his eyes were firmly closed and he frowned fiercely.

Byren grinned. 'No, really. How do you feel? You've been out for ages.'

'Head's thumping fit to burst. But I'll live.'

'Just as well. Elina would never forgive me if anything happened to you.'

Orrade chuckled, then moaned as even this hurt him. 'Where are we?' He pried open one eye then closed it again, the effort too much. 'What happened and how'd we get away from the lincis?'

For some reason Byren didn't want to mention the old seer. 'Drove it off, but a falling branch clipped the back of your head. You're lucky your skull's thick.' Best to keep him talking. 'We're trapped, Orrie. An ulfr pack have pinned us on the edge of a cliff.'

'Build a fire.'

Byren blinked. Orrade's face was in the shadow of Byren's body, but ruddy fire light gleamed on his friend's hands where they clutched the cloak to his chest.

Fear settled in the pit of Byren's belly. The old seer had said Orrade would never be the same. Had she meant he'd be blind?

Like a three-day-old kitten, Orrade forced his eyes open and peered around. 'No stars to aid us tonight, just when we could have done with -'

'Orrie, the stars are bright enough to cast shadows and, if I move, you'll feel the fire's heat on your face.'

Those sightless eyes travelled to his face, following the sound of his voice. It was uncanny, but he was still blind.

'Byren?'

He heard the fear in Orrade's voice, the unspoken
don't leave me
.

'I am going to get you out of this, then I am going to take you home. You hear me, Orrie?'

His friend said nothing.

'You hear me?' he repeated. 'I am not going to fail you.'

'I know,' Orrade whispered.

Byren licked dry lips then glanced back to the tree line where the ulfr pack watched and waited. He had made a promise, but he didn't know how he was going to save his friend.

Orrade shifted on the hard rock. 'Could you have found a more uncomfortable bed?'

Byren grinned. Thank Halcyon, there was nothing wrong with his friend's wits. They spoke of this and that. It was easier to stay awake with Orrade conscious. Even so the night dragged.

Not long after midnight, when Byren reached for more wood, he found their supply dangerously low. He tried not to stare into the flames and destroy his night vision while he rebuilt the fire, but he had to look at what he was doing.

'Byren?' Orrade whispered, waking from a doze.

'Who else?' he countered.

Orrade grinned weakly. 'How goes it?'

'Just building up the fire.'

'How's the wood holding out?'

Byren glanced to the depleted pile.

'That bad, eh?' Though Orrade could not see him, he seemed able to read Byren's silences. He lifted onto his elbow, then levered himself to a sitting position with obvious effort. Only the boulder at his back seemed to hold him up.

Byren rubbed his jaw, feeling the prickle of unshaven skin. 'I could venture out to gather more -'

'That would be madness.'

He was right.

'Then I'll bring the fire in closer.' Byren began adjusting the wood.

'You stand a better chance on your own,' Orrade said. 'Leave me.'

Byren didn't even bother to reply. He stretched what was left of their fuel in an arc and set it all alight. With the fire burning in a semi circle the wood would run out faster, but it meant he had a smaller area to defend. And, when the fire did burn out, the hot coals might slow the ulfrs.

Shading his eyes, Byren stared into the tree line. The leader was watching him again, waiting. The beast seemed to know he could afford to wait. Byren wished his bow was not at the bottom of the ravine.

'What do you see?' Orrade asked.

'Mangy, winter-starved ulfrs,' Byren lied. Taking the three spears across his knees, he crouched next to Orrade.

Time stretched.

'If I were truly brave I would roll off the edge and you could save yourself,' Orrade muttered, rising to his knees and crawling around the boulder, feeling with his hands for the lip of the ravine.

'Don't say that. Don't!' Byren jerked him back, holding him so tight he could feel Orrade's muscles trembling.

His friend protested and pulled away. The hollows under his high cheekbones starkly defined his grim face.

Byren felt frustrated, helpless. 'We're going to get out of this, Orrie.'

His friend nodded once, but it was clear he wasn't convinced.

For a long while they were silent and the fire burned on, while the wandering stars crawled with deliberate slowness across their allotted paths.

Eventually, Byren shifted, easing his muscles, preparing for the worst. The ulfrs had begun to close in, their eyes glowing beyond the fire's semi circle.

He lifted one of the good spears and picked his first target, the male that had nearly crept up on him before. The distance was too great for an average man to throw but Byren was not an average man. Silently, he thanked King Rolence the First, who had bequeathed his descendants with unusual height.

The ulfr watched him, watched his eyes, not the spear.

When Byren went to throw it crouched, presenting a smaller target. Sylion take it, the beasts were too clever.

Byren swallowed.

The massive pack leader padded out from the tree line, lifted its head to reveal white fur on its chest and gave voice to that dreaded howl. Fear prickled across Byren's skin.

The rest of the ulfrs echoed their leader.

In the moment that the first, smaller male was distracted, Byren threw his spear with all his strength and training. It took the beast high in the shoulder. The impact threw the ulfr off its feet as its howl became a whine of pain. The others ducked and whined as if in sympathy, slinking back to the trees.

'You got one!' Orrade struggled to his knees, adjusting the cloak.

'They'll attack again,' Byren warned. He crouched and felt for Orrade's shoulder, thrusting the makeshift spear into his hands. 'If any of them get past me, deal with them.'

'How? I won't know where they are until their jaws close on me!' Orrade's voice dropped and he tugged on Byren's arm drawing him closer still. 'I'm going to die but I don't care as long as you live. I want you to know that I love you. I've always loved you!' He smiled ruefully as if he could see Byren's startled expression. 'And you've only ever had eyes for my sister!'

'But... the girls we've shared -'

'Meant nothing.' Orrade reached into his vest and pulled out a chain. On the end swung the symbol of the archer. 'I have foresworn women just like Palos.' Palos was a semi-mythical warlord whose feats with the bow had not been matched since. He'd almost united Rolencia in a time before King Rolence. His exploits were legendary.