The Usurper

by Rowena Cory Daniells

  Piro couldn't actually hear the words, but she could read their actions. The captain refused her. No room. The woman climbed wearily back up to the road. Where it met the bridge she hesitated undecided. Obviously she could not go back. One of the small boys climbed onto the bridge's rail and stood there, yelling abuse at the boat that had refused them passage.

  Just then a dozen riders, magenta cloaks flapping, rode past at a gallop, heading for Mage Isle. Tyro had been turning them away all night. The mage would not interfere with the five families. They had to choose the next elector. Piro anticipated these men would also be turned away. People scattered to let them pass.

  Startled by the horses' clattering hooves, the boy toppled off the bridge, falling into the sea. Only Piro noticed. His mother was too busy with the other children. He bobbed up again but he struggled to keep himself afloat and the current started to take him away from the shore.

  Piro looked about. No one had seen. No one else could save him. She darted down the stairs from the tower, onto the wall-walk. As she ran she tore off her over-dress and sprang onto the stone rim. She was a good swimmer. Judging the distance and direction of his drift she dived out and down, dropping two storeys into the sea.

  The water was shockingly cold, and deep. She fought her way up, towards the light that danced on the wavelets above. Tossing hair from her face she turned, looking for the boy. From the bridge she saw the mother waving frantically. Alerted by her screams, people on the boats were starting to turn, but they were at the wharf.

  Now that the boy realised he was being swept away, he panicked and floundered. Piro struck out for him. Six strong strokes and she was there. Surprisingly strong arms wound around her neck. He clung to her like a limpet, dragging her down. Shivering and sobbing, he coughed up sea water.

  She soothed him, treading water until he had calmed enough to follow her instructions, then she turned him about, hooked an arm across his chest and set off for the shore.

  The mother had clambered down onto some seaweed-strewn steps by the time Piro reached the stones, and several people helped them out. The woman alternately hugged and scolded the boy, who stood there, miserable and shaking.

  Piro brushed the mother's thanks aside.

  'I don't know what I'll do. My house has burned down. I've nowhere to go. Two of these children aren't even mine. I found them wandering in the street, after their family was killed.'

  'Do you have people on the outer isle?' Piro asked.

  'No. I hoped someone would take us in.'

  Piro pushed wet hair from her face. 'Come with me.' She scooped up one of the smaller children and marched up to the steps to the road and across the bridge to Mage Isle.

  Five warriors in magenta cloaks waited at the gates, their mounts stamping impatiently. Agent Tyro stood on the gate tower, in discussion with their leader.

  Piro strode through the men, dripping wet, followed by the children and their mother and more homeless townspeople, who had come to watch.

  'Open the gates!' Piro had lost her shoes, or she would have kicked the wood.

  The warriors muttered at her effrontery.

  Tyro stared down at Piro, looking stunned. 'I can let you in, but not the townspeople, by the mage's orders.'

  'By the mage's orders?' Piro was furious. 'My father never turned people away. It is the mage's duty to take these people in and protect them. Let me in and I'll tell him so, if you're afraid to.'

  Tyro looked grim. After a moment he said something to the men behind him and turned back to the bridge. 'Stand aside, captain. Mage Tsulamyth offers asylum to the people of Ostron Isle.'

  Even as he spoke the gates swung inwards and the soldiers backed their horses with bad grace. The captain shook his fist at Tyro.

  'I'll report this to the comtissa!' he roared and rode off.

  Piro ignored him and marched onto Mage Isle with a dozen people at her back. By the time Tyro came down the stairs she'd sent the children and their mother to the kitchen and ordered a hot bath run for the half-drowned boy. Word was already spreading back to the crowded wharf.

  'The men can bed down in the stables,' Piro told the gate-keeper. 'Women and children can go through to the hall.' She turned and found Tyro beside her. 'If that's all right with you.'

  'It's the mage's decision,' he said, then his eyes widened as he saw the number of people flocking towards the bridge.

  'They're desperate. You did the right thing,' Piro told him. 'Sometimes you have to do what you believe to be right, even if other people don't understand.' She bit her bottom lip. She had no reason to like Tyro, not after the way he had tricked her. But... 'Will you get in trouble with the mage?'

  One corner of his mouth lifted. 'No more than usual.'

  'Byren,' Orrade whispered, face so close to his in the dim predawn that the warmth of his breath brushed Byren's skin.

  He woke instantly, pulling back, only too aware of his honour guard asleep on the floor.

  Orrade placed one knee on the bed. 'Byren, listen -'

  He lifted a hand to silence Orrade but his friend kept speaking.

  '...saw them, coming over the Divide. The sooner we strike the better.'

  'Come all the way in.' Byren pressed his back to the carved head-board, as Orrade climbed onto the bed and let the canopy fall, so that they were private from the others. 'Now start again and keep your voice down.'

  'I saw Leogryf's warlord march his warriors over the Divide. They wore cobalt-blue ribbons on their helmets.' Orrade rubbed his temples, frowning in concentration.

  'An Affinity vision?'

  Orrade nodded. 'Complete with thumping headache, and now I have grey moths clouding my sight.'

  Fearful of someone overhearing and Orrade's Affinity being exposed, they both glanced to the canopy at the end of the bed, beyond which the honour guard slept. They could see nothing, of course, and the soft snoring continued as normal.

  'I knew we could not trust Lord Leon,' Byren whispered.

  'It wouldn't surprise me if he'd already made a pact with Cobalt before he came here to judge our strength and discover our plans.' Bitterness stretched Orrade's voice thin. 'I had a bad feeling about him. But I...' He shrugged. 'Will you commit your army on the strength of my vision?'

  'I'm alive because of one of your visions.'

  They were silent for a moment. Byren could not help but recall the kiss when Orrade found him in the seep and they both thought he was dying. To be on the receiving end of such love...

  The bed curtain on the other side flicked open as someone slipped in, letting it fall behind them. Blinded by the darkness, they felt for Byren.

  He lunged forwards, caught their arm and pulled them flat across the bed, pinning them with his body, feeling the firm curves of a woman's body, smelling the scent of... 'Florin?'

  'Get off me.' She thrust at his chest with all her strength. It was not enough. And Byren realised she might be trained, she might be fast but, if a warrior got past her weapons, she had the strength of a lad. He wouldn't send a boy into battle, not if he could help it.

  Florin thumped him, annoyed by her inability to make him budge. 'Off me, you great lump.'

  Orrade chuckled.

  Florin went still.

  'Orrie had a vision,' Byren explained. 'Why are you here?'

  She shoved and Byren pulled back. There was rustling as she sat up. 'The Lady Cinna's bird returned with a message. It must have been important because she ran right back to Feid's bed and they were whispering madly under the canopy. I heard something about betrayal.'

  'So the warlord's pretty new wife is an Ostronite spy after all,' Orrade whispered.

  'And Feid,' Florin added.

  'But that does not mean Feid intends to betray me,' Byren said.

  There was a knock at the chamber door. All three of them froze. Winterfall answered. Someone asked for Byren.

  Before Winterfall could discover Orrade and Florin in his bed, Byren thrust open the canopy and stepped out. 'Wha
t is it?'

  'The warlord's sent for you.' Winterfall kept his voice low. 'Do you want me to come too?'

  'No.' He wanted Orrade with him. Anything was better than leaving him in a warm bed with Florin. But he could hardly ask Orrade to step out from his bed canopy now. 'I'll be right there. Wait here.'

  He threw on breeches, a shirt and boots. The stone floor was cold as he followed the servant down the passage. The pool of golden lamplight illuminated just enough to see where to place his feet.

  At the warlord's chamber Feid sent the servant off and invited Byren in. A lamp burned, illuminating a chamber much like his own. The fire had been lit and Lady Cinna waited, wrapped in a blanket on the floor by the fire. She scrambled to her feet as Byren entered.

  'What is this?' Byren asked, wondering if half a dozen of Feid's honour guard waited in the next chamber with their swords drawn, but he did not think Feid would risk his pregnant wife in a brawl.

  'We've had news,' Feid said. Like Byren, his breeches and shirt looked as if they'd been thrown on in haste. 'Leogryf's warlord has taken his men over the Divide. We need to strike now, before he can unite with Cobalt.'

  'How do you know this?'

  Feid deliberately did not glance to Cinna. 'A spy told me.'

  'Do you trust this spy?'

  'With my life.'

  Byren let his breath out slowly as Cinna came to stand behind Feid, slipping her hand into his. Clearly, Cinna was more than a kitchen maid become lady. Yet, just as clearly, she adored Feid.

  'Byren?' Feid pressed.

  'You're right. Send word to Unistag Spar.'

  Back in his chamber he found his honour guard awake and Orrade with them. He didn't dare ask how his friend had slipped out of the bed without being seen.

  Enough pale dawn light filtered in for him to see his honour guard's faces. They all turned expectantly, as he entered.

  'I've sent a message to Unistag Spar. We leave today.' His last words were drowned by their cheers.

  Orrade sent him a wry look.

  At Byren's signal the others fell silent. 'It's lucky Corvel is here with his warriors. Without the women and children we'll move fast. I'll lead Corvel's men and the majority of my men over the secret pass and across the foothills. The Rolencian side of the fort won't be as heavily defended. Orrie?'

  His friend nodded.

  'You wait here for Unistag's warriors. Lead an attack on the fort, at dawn on the fifth day. Don't waste lives, but make it look like you mean it. I want the fort's defenders firmly focused on the threat from Foenix Spar when we attack the other gate.'

  Orrade smiled. 'Understood.'

  Byren looked into their expectant faces. 'Right. Let's get ready.'

  Byren's honour guard had already rolled up their sleeping mats, now they filed out, eager for breakfast and a chance to reclaim Rolencia. Last out was Orrade, who glanced once to the bed before shutting the door behind him.

  Heart thudding, Byren pulled the bed curtain back to find Florin kneeling, head cocked to one side, listening intently. There was nothing wanton in her pose, but his body thought otherwise.

  'They're gone?' she said.

  He nodded.

  'Good.' She thrust past him, tantalisingly close. 'I can be ready to leave in a few moments.'

  Byren's heart sank. He already had Garzik and Elina's deaths on his conscience. He stared at her. How could he convince her to stay in the Foenix stronghold?

  He couldn't. Short of locking her up, and that was just insulting. But he didn't have to put her in harm's way.

  Thinking they were done, she turned to leave.

  He caught her arm. 'You stay with Orrie.'

  She brushed his hand off. 'I'd rather go with you. If Orrie's not with you, someone has to watch your back.'

  'I watched my own back for years before you came along, Mountain-girl.'

  She sniffed, then a thought occurred to her. 'Did Cinna admit to being the elector's spy?'

  'No. Feid admitted only that someone spies for him, someone he trusts. That's why I need you here, for now. I need you to keep your eyes open.' I need to keep you safe.

  'Of course.' She glanced up to him. 'What is it?'

  The words were on the tip of his tongue but he could not ask it of her. He would be denying who Florin was. Sylion take her, why did she have to be so stubborn?

  'Be off. And keep out of trouble.' It was no more than he'd say to any of the lads.

  She grinned. 'I'll serve under Orrie's command, but we'd better catch up with you in time to take Rolenhold!'

  With that she was gone.

  By mid-morning they were ready to leave. Men milled about in the stronghold courtyards, double-checking their travelling kits. Word of Leogryf's betrayal had spread, leaving a bad taste in everyone's mouths.

  Byren caught Orrade's eye and led him into the shadows of the stable. It was quiet here. 'There's something I need you to do for me, Orrie.'

  'Name it.'

  But Byren hesitated. If he asked Orrade to watch over Florin, Orrade would know how he felt and Byren knew she loved one of his men. It might just be Orrade. In fact, it probably was, they'd spent enough time in each other's company. He didn't want his friend to hold back. Orrade enjoyed Florin's company and admired her. Let him marry Florin and settle the whispers once and for all.

  It would be so much simpler if Orrade wed the mountain girl and made his wife available to his king. It wouldn't be the first time a king had come to such an arrangement with one of his loyal lords.

  But Byren was not going to be that kind of king.

  He cleared his throat, aware that he had taken too long to answer. 'Make it look like a concerted effort to take the fort, but don't waste lives.'

  Orrade nodded, a half-smile lightening his sharp eyes. 'And?'

  And nothing. If Florin wanted to be a shield-maiden, she had to face death just as his warriors did. 'It's Winterfall. I overheard him giving Florin a hard time -'

  'So that's why you arranged for her to sleep in Lady Cinna's chambers.' Orrade grinned. 'Don't worry. I'll keep her close by me.'

  Byren swallowed. This was not the outcome he wanted, but it would be for the best. So he nodded.

  'By the way, I told Catillum you wanted him and his monks to march with me,' Orrade said.

  Byren cursed. He had forgotten the monks in his preoccupation with Florin. 'I thought you'd want the mystics master as far from you as possible, Orrie.'

  'And I thought you'd want to keep him as far from the renegade Affinity at the old camp as possible.'

  'Good point.' He didn't want Catillum anywhere near those caves with their old, untamed Affinity. Byren grinned and squeezed Orrade's shoulders. 'What would I do without you?'

  Orrade shrugged. 'Flounder on, I suppose.'

  Byren laughed and thumped him. As they marched out of the stable a horn sounded.

  Everyone froze.

  Byren met Orrade's eyes. Were they under attack?

  He bounded up the tower stairs with Orrade at his heels. Here they found Feid already holding the Ostronite farseer to his eye.

  'What is it?' Byren asked.

  Wordlessly, Feid passed him the tube and Byren looked through it. He spotted three ships bristling with warriors, their helmets and shields gleaming in the sun. The wind lifted the banners to reveal the rearing cockatrice. Relief flooded him.

  Byren closed the farseer with a snap and shouted the news. People cheered.

  They headed down to the wharf, where the first ship retracted its oars as ropes were thrown across and secured. A young man marched down the gangplank, hand on sword hilt.

  'That cub's too young to be the new warlord,' Orrade muttered.

  'Well, he brings three hundred warriors, whatever he is,' Byren said and went down the wharf to greet the boy-warrior who stood almost as tall as Byren, but looked no more than fifteen.

  'Byren Kingsheir?' he demanded.

  Byren nodded.

  He dropped to one knee. 'I'm Aseel, y
ounger brother of Warlord Hrost, of Cockatrice Spar. I've come with three hundred men to help you retake Rolencia.' He got up, dusting off his knees and added apologetically, 'Hrost has kept back the rest. He doesn't trust Leogryf Spar.'

  Byren snorted. 'For good reason. Lord Leon promised to support us then rode over the Divide!'

  'He betrayed you?' Aseel demanded. 'He joined Cobalt?'

  'Don't worry.' Seeing himself only a few years ago, Byren slung an arm around Aseel's shoulders and turned him towards the others. 'A warrior from the spar is worth two from the valley. Come meet Orrade and Warlord Feid.'

  Chapter Nineteen

  Fyn studied the map. At last, they had entered the deep narrow bay that would bring them to Feid's stronghold. By midday he would see Byren and bring him the good news. He couldn't hold back a smile.

  'Bad news.' Captain Nefysto walked into the cabin, with a messenger bird on his wrist, his expression grim. He crossed the cabin and placed the bird in its cage, behind the screen. 'The old elector is dead and there's been fighting in the streets of Ostron Isle. As yet there is no elector and we don't know if the new one will honour the alliance.'

  Fyn came to his feet, mind racing. 'Only we know about this and, when the new elector is named, the mage will endeavour to win their support. Tell no one, Nefysto. Understood?'

  'I was serving the mage when you were an abbey brat, little monk.' But there was a smile in his eyes.

  Fyn had the grace to grin then remembered a comment Tyro had made. 'I gather the mage has a spy on this spar. Will Feid know about the elector's death?'

  Nefysto shrugged. 'I'm not privy to the mage's machinations and I certainly don't know the identity of his spies.'

  Midday saw Fyn on the deck of the sea-hound, studying the warlord's stronghold as they approached. Below it, a collection of cottages clung to the steep slope that led down to Foenix Spar's only harbour. Even from here, he could see pigs and chickens wandering the muddy streets, squabbling and squawking. After Ostron Isle the comparison was not favourable.