‘What’s he talking about?’ the translator demanded.
‘Don’t listen to him. He’s trying to destroy the alliance,’ Orrade said.
Byren cursed, furious with Cobalt. Furious with himself, because he did not see how he could save Florin or the Snow Bridge kingsdaughter.
‘What was that, cousin, feeling impotent?’ Cobalt was enjoying himself. ‘Once your allies see how powerless you are, they’ll abandon you. I’m going to take everything from you, just as your father took everything from me—my father’s love, the woman I loved and the kingdom that should have been mine. King Rolen was a brute and boor, and you’re not much better. But what can you expect of the product of rape?’
‘Don’t listen to him!’ Orrade caught Byren’s arm. ‘Do you hear me? Your parents loved each other.’
Byren kept his eyes on Cobalt. ‘I need our best archers, Wafin.’
But even as the lad ran off, Byren realised they wouldn’t arrive in time. He needed a distraction.
A rider arrived on the far side of the bridge, leading four mounts.
Hearing the horses whinny, Cobalt glanced over his shoulder. Florin fainted.
No. She’d ducked, and now punched her captor in the balls, before springing to her feet.
Byren was already running. His brave mountain girl did not stand a chance against four armed men, and the poor kingsdaughter would be dead in another heartbeat. The rider galloped up the bridge, his horse’s shod hooves rattling on the stone.
Cobalt signalled to the man holding the kingsdaughter, who went to kill her.
But before he could, Florin tackled him, and they fell on the bridge’s slick stones. The man remained down as Florin scrambled to her feet.
Still three body-lengths away, Byren knew he was not going to be in time.
Cobalt drew his sword on Florin.
She backed away, the kingsdaughter behind her.
Trapped between Cobalt and the rider, Florin backed up until she was pressed against the balustrade. Both of Cobalt’s men had now recovered and were getting to their feet, angry and eager for revenge. Byren shouted.
Cobalt’s men lunged in for the kill.
Florin swung her arm around the kingsdaughter and rolled them both over the balustrade and off the bridge.
Everything went silent. Time slowed as Byren charged. He ran one man through, freed his sword, elbowed another in the throat and faced Cobalt. He was vaguely aware of Orrade matching the fourth man blow for blow.
Cobalt lifted his sword tip and circled Byren. Swords were second nature to Byren. He had grown up practising with Lence, who had strength, and Orrade, who had speed and skill.
Orrade killed his man.
Cobalt struck. Within two heartbeats it was clear he was fast and he was skilled.
But for once, he wasn’t working poison with words.
Starlight flashed on their blades. Everything came down to this moment, to the slippery wet stones under Byren’s feet and the singing steel.
Twice, Cobalt offered Byren a target, and both times he didn’t take it. Cobalt was too good a swordsman to make those mistakes. Byren saw the ploys for what they were.
Then Byren let his guard drop, and Cobalt made the fatal mistake of underestimating him. Byren diverted Cobalt’s strike, turned his blade, and followed through, bringing his sword around in an arc that took Cobalt’s head clean off.
Cobalt had always been vain about his long dark hair; now it flew behind his head like a banner, but Byren didn’t bother to collect his trophy.
Dropping his sword, he ran to side of the bridge.
This was where Florin and the kingsdaughter had fallen, mid-stream where the current was strongest. Starlight silvered the river. He searched, but he could not see a pair of dark heads. Florin couldn’t swim.
‘Can you see her?’ Orrade asked.
The last of Cobalt’s men made a break for it. As Wafin and Chandler cut him down, the mounted man galloped off, hooves clattering on stone.
The translator joined Byren. ‘Can you see her?’
‘No. Can the kingsdaughter swim?’
‘No.’
Byren shook his head. ‘Then there’s no hope.’
‘You mean the bodyguard couldn’t swim?’ The man clutched Byren’s arm. ‘Why did she take the kingsdaughter over the bridge with her?’
Byren found he could not speak.
‘To give Byren a chance to kill Cobalt,’ Orrade said, eyes glittering with tears. ‘And to shift the guilt of their deaths from Byren’s shoulders.’
‘There’s still a chance,’ Byren said. There had to be. He refused to give up. A quick look around told him the four remaining horses had trotted a little way off. ‘Grab the horses, Orrie. Search the right bank, I’ll take the left.’
No one told him it was pointless.
Wafin and Chandler volunteered to help, taking a horse each. Orrade returned to the Tolton bank with Chandler, while Byren and Wafin took the far bank.
Byren rode down the road where so many had died the previous afternoon. He looked back to see silent warriors lining the bridge.
It was the darkest time of night before the dawn, but because the wind had swept the sky clean of clouds, the stars shone brightly enough to cast shadows. He and Wafin made their way off the road, past the quarry, down the slope and along the river bank.
Byren rode, watching for bobbing heads or bodies clinging to rocks in the bends.
He rode until the sun came up, and even then, he was reluctant to admit that their search was pointless.
Wafin did not speak.
After three days with almost no sleep, Byren’s head buzzed from exhaustion. Dawn’s long rays shot across the valley. Byren shaded his eyes as he looked to the far bank. There was no sign of Orrade, and no reason to think he’d found the two women.
No Florin to contradict him in her abrupt forthright way. No more Florin... He couldn’t bear the thought. How could he go on without her?
And Jorgoskev’s daughter. He’d failed the poor girl. To think her last moments had been filled with terror.
Byren’s tired horse came to a standstill and began cropping grass.
‘Byren!’ Orrade yelled from the far bank as he rode out of a copse of trees. ‘Behind you, back around the bend. Two bodies.’
Byren turned his horse and urged it to a gallop. Where the river rounded a bluff, he dismounted and climbed down the bank. He found a small patch of pebbly bank where the two bodies had washed up. Florin’s legs were still in the river, which tugged at her as if trying to reclaim her. The kingsdaughter was about a body-length away, draped over a rock. At least he would be able to take their bodies home.
Florin’s arm moved. She lived? ‘Florin!’
FLORIN WAS COLD. Something tugged at her legs and the ground shifted under her. It was really important that she wake up, but she couldn’t seem to hold her eyes open. When she breathed, it hurt like a knife sliding between her ribs.
She heard Byren call her name and tried to lift her head.
A moment later, she felt his warm, strong hands pulling her out of the river and into his arms. His rough jaw rubbed her cold cheek as he kissed her. She felt his hot tears on her skin.
‘You’re alive. I thought I’d lost you.’
‘Careful.’ She winced. ‘Think my rib’s broken.’
He laughed and kissed her again. ‘Must have broken when you hit the water.’ He pressed his lips to her forehead. ‘You can’t swim. I thought—’
‘I can swim. Piro taught me.’ She forced her weary eyes open. ‘Did you think I’d fling myself and the kingsdaughter into the river if I couldn’t swim?’
‘Orrie said... But that’s him, all stiff-necked honour.’ Byren shook his head. ‘You’re my practical mountain girl. I shoulda known you wouldn’t throw away both your lives—’
‘The kingsdaughter?’
He shifted a little to reveal Skevlaza hanging over a rock behind him. Her face was hidden behind her tangled
hair. What if she was awake? Shame filled Florin and she pushed Byren away. ‘See to your betrothed.’
‘I will.’ But first he helped Florin to her feet and waved to the far bank, where Orrade stood shading his eyes and watching.
While Byren moved the poor kingsdaughter onto the shore, Wafin offered Florin his coat. He was a head shorter than her so she kept it for the kingsdaughter.
Byren pressed his ear to Skevlaza’s chest. ‘She breathes.’ He raised his head. ‘You saved her life, Florin. I couldn’t save you, couldn’t save either of you. I never felt so useless in my life.’
‘Cobalt’s dead?’ she asked.
He nodded.
‘Good.’ She spread the coat over the kingsdaughter and pushed Skevlaza’s hair back from her face. ‘Her skin’s so cold.’
Byren frowned. ‘This is not...’
‘Not the right kingsdaughter. I know,’ Florin admitted. ‘Jorgoskev didn’t want to give up Skevlixa so he sent his older daughter. He sent her knowing that you are a man of your word and you’d marry her anyway.’
Anger tightened Byren’s face. ‘The lying, deceitful...’
Florin reached across Skevlaza to Byren. ‘Don’t blame her. She had to obey her father for the sake of her son.’
Ashen faced, Byren stared at her. ‘How long have you known?’
‘Only since last night. That’s why she wanted to speak with you.’ Florin shrugged. ‘I’m sorry.’
Byren shook his head. ‘You have no idea how sorry I am, Mountain Girl.’
Skevlaza whimpered.
Byren rubbed his face, fingers rasping over his jaw. ‘Ask her if she’s all right, Florin. Tell her I’m sorry that Cobalt captured her and she had to go through... Tell her...’ He could not go on.
Florin translated the sentiment, finishing with, ‘Skevlaza, can you hear me?’
Her odd blue-green eyes opened, awash with tears. She nodded and blinked.
‘How do I say I’m sorry in her language?’ Byren asked.
Florin told him and he repeated the words. For some reason this made the kingsdaughter sob.
Byren slid his arms under the kingsdaughter, lifted her and climbed to his feet.
While Wafin helped Byren up the bank with the kingsdaughter, Florin stumbled along behind.
When they reached the path by the river, Wafin offered her his horse. Florin glanced across to the far bank and saw Orrade keeping pace with them, accompanied by Chandler.
By the time they reached the bridge to Tolton, Byren’s army and the townspeople were all lined up to see them return. Byren rode with the kingsdaughter in his arms. The crowd cheered from every balcony and window, waving red scarves and shirts. The true king of Rolencia had returned.
Once they’d crossed the bridge and entered the town, Orrade fell in beside Florin, but with all the shouting and cheering it was impossible to talk.
Florin felt numb. There’d been one small part of her that had hoped that when Byren discovered the deceit, he would reject King Jorgoskev’s daughter.
At the same time, Florin was not in the least surprised to see that he treated Skevlaza with grave courtesy as he carried her up to the best bedchamber.
Florin had to admit to a certain satisfaction when Byren called for a healer rather than offering himself and Orrade to heal the kingsdaughter.
BYREN WAITED FOR the healer to arrive. The moment he’d shown the old woman into Skevlaza’s chamber, he shut the door on them and pulled Orrade into an empty chamber. ‘Did you know about the switch?’
‘Of course not.’
Byren cursed, then realised he was looking for someone to blame. Blame was pointless. ‘I’ve already had the use of Jorgoskev’s army, and I can’t dishonour the poor woman by turning her away, especially after this. I’ll have to marry her.’
Orrade said nothing.
Byren paced. ‘Jorgoskev played me for a fool.’
‘I suspect he plays everyone.’ Orrade shrugged. ‘Cobalt’s dead and you’ve won the people over. They’re already composing songs about the battle of Tolton Bridge and your fight with Cobalt.’
‘Florin was the true hero...’ Byren shook his head. ‘Piro taught her to swim, but she risked her life to save Skevlaza and give me a chance to kill Cobalt.’
‘I won’t argue with that.’ Orrade folded his arms and leant against the door.
Byren glanced to him. For a heartbeat he wondered if Orrade was angry with him. ‘I’ve won Rolencia but I’ve made a terrible mistake, Orrie. It’s Florin I love.’
‘You had your chance. When we were in the mountains, you could have slipped away and made a life for the pair of you, but you chose Rolencia.’
‘I had no choice. I had to do my duty.’
Orrade shrugged. ‘I guess it all depends on what’s important to you.’
‘I had to do the right thing. You know that.’ Byren glanced at him. ‘And now I’m saddled with a queen who’s more than a decade older than me. How will I get an heir from her?’
‘The usual way, I guess.’
‘You are angry with me. I don’t see why. I’ve only ever tried to do the right—’
Orrade caught him by the shirt and swung him around, slamming him up against the door. ‘Then keep your hands off Florin.’
Anger flashed through Byren. Why should Orrie care? It wasn’t like he wanted Florin. But Byrenheld back the words. He was not proud of himself for even thinking them. ‘I’m not Lence. I won’t dishonour our friendship. I’ll marry a woman I don’t love for the sake of the kingdom.’
‘Your mother didn’t love your father when she married him to keep the peace. They grew to love each other. You—’
‘King Byren?’ The healer’s voice reached them from the passage.
Byren looked to Orrade, who let him go with a gesture that made it clear all was not forgiven. ‘Orrie, I—’
‘You’re needed.’
‘My king?’ the healer raised her voice.
Byren straightened his shirt and went out into the passage.
‘I gave the kingsdaughter something to help her sleep,’ the healer said. ‘Considering what she’s been through, she’s doing well. All she needs is a few days of rest.’
Byren nodded. ‘Thank you. Now I need you to see to—’
‘My wife,’ Orrade said. ‘Come this way.’ And he led the healer to Florin’s chamber.
Byren considered going in to see the kingsdaughter, but he was tired and angry, and didn’t trust himself to say the right thing.
FLORIN CURSED SILENTLY as the healer strapped her ribs, gave her something to drink and propped pillows behind her. After the healer left, Orrade returned.
‘Byren tells me Piro taught you to swim. Still, you took a risk going over the bridge.’
She shrugged, then regretted it. ‘I wasn’t going to give Cobalt the satisfaction of killing Skevlaza and ruining Byren’s alliance with King Jorgoskev.’
‘You could have been killed. You could still lose the baby.’
Florin flushed, reminded that his concern for her sprang from his concern for Byren’s child. The baby did not feel real to her. She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.
Orrade walked to the window. He seemed to be troubled, but when he spoke his words were dispassionate. ‘The abbot died overnight. A new abbot will have to be elected. We should delay the marriage until all the nobles and merchants can come to Rolenhold and swear allegiance to their king and his queen.’ He turned to Florin. ‘You knew she was not the right kingsdaughter, yet you saved her life. You could have let go of her, let her drown.’
‘You must have a very strange idea of me if you think I could do that. Besides, none of this is her fault. Sometimes you have to do the right thing, no matter the cost. You, of all people, know that, Orrie.’
‘I saw him kiss you. Did he tell you he loves you?’
And she understood. No one loved him and the one person he loved had rejected him. ‘Orrie...’ She sat forward, wincing. ‘Come her
e.’ She took his hand and held his eyes. ‘I will never dishonour you. You are the best person I know. In fact... I suspect you are a better person than Byren.’
He laughed. ‘Yet you still love him.’
‘As do you.’
He lifted her hand and kissed it. ‘I fear we are both fools, but I think we can be happy together.’
And strangely enough, she thought he was right.
Chapter Seventy-Two
BYREN FOLLOWED ORRADE up the steps to Eagle Tower. It was his wedding day, and he’d never felt less like getting married.
In the six days since Byren had returned to his father’s castle, it seemed everyone in Rolencia had tried to speak with him—some wanted to complain, some wanted justice and others wanted to convince him that they had remained loyal even though they had accepted lands and titles from Cobalt.
He was heartily sick of it all.
And very relieved to have Orrade back. Not that he’d been able to snatch a moment with him in private. After reclaiming his estate, the new Lord Dovecote had returned late last night. As far as Byren knew, Orrade was still angry with him. He needed to make things right between them.
‘We could have met in the war-table chamber and saved the climb,’ Byren said.
‘I remember the days you’d race Lence...’ Orrade hesitated. They’d reached the ladder to the tower top. ‘I asked about him and Elina but the fire stones burned so fiercely their bodies were never recovered. I’ve ordered the stone-mason to carve a statue of Elina with a fire stone in each hand to commemorate her bravery.’
His voice broke and Byren wanted to hug him, but he stood helplessly by while Orrade regained control.
‘We were so young...’ Byren shook his head. ‘If I could go back and—’
‘We don’t get to go back,’ Orrade said, voice brittle. ‘We make the best decisions we can with the knowledge we have to hand. I want you to remember this, when...’ He glanced up.
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