The Uncrowned King (16 page)

There was a moment's silence.

'Mother?'

'Listen, Piro.' It was Seela, her old nurse. 'Can you see the key?'

She glanced around. There was a tray, with what was left of the guard's breakfast right under the narrow window. 'No.'

And even as she said it, she realised it was pointless to worry her mother with Father's fate, when there was nothing the queen could do. 'I'm sorry. I -'

'Don't fret, Piro,' Seela told her. 'You can't be sure. Dream visions -'

'Piro?' her mother broke in. 'Run to the top of Eagle Tower. From there you can see Rolenton Square. And I can see the top of Eagle Tower from my window. If Rolen falls, signal me. Can you do that?'

'I can. I'll wave my smock,' Piro whispered. Perhaps there was something her mother could do. 'I'm going now.'

'Wait. Piro?'

'I'm still here.'

'If Rolenhold falls -'

'It'll never fall!'

'If the castle falls we'll need to negotiate surrender. Dress as befits a kingsdaughter.'

'If it comes to that I will,' Piro agreed, dismissing it as an impossibility. 'I'm going now.'

She turned and ran down the steps, pausing on the landing at the first-floor doorway. The altercation over the goat was still going strong, only now the bully was denying that he had tried to bribe the guards with a stolen chicken.

It was the work of only a few minutes to reach Eagle Tower. By the time Piro climbed to the top, her heart was pounding like a drum, but she wasn't hot and bothered. Instead shivers shook her body and her teeth chattered so that even clenching her jaw didn't stop them.

The castle's parapets were thick with people watching the confrontation, while a dozen castle servants had climbed Eagle Tower. Piro burrowed through them to get a viewing spot. They were all straining to see the king's party and no one paid her any attention. The family's banner, a flash of deep red on black, attracted her eye as her father and his companions rode into Rolenton's square. The large bonfire had burned down, only a thin finger of smoke rose on the air.

Overlord Palatyne waited astride his great black warhorse. The Merofynian banner stood behind him, stretched on two poles. Piro could just make out the shape of a rearing wyvern depicted in rich azure.

Her father rode out under a flag of truce. According to the code of war the overlord would threaten and bluster, while King Rolen would dare him to do his worst. They would trade insults, then the Rolencian party would ride back to the castle and wait for the warrior monks to arrive. That was how it should have gone, but Piro knew better.

Being so far away she could only read large actions. Overlord Palatyne gestured to his warriors. King Rolen gestured to the castle.

Movement drew Piro's eye to insect-like creatures which crept across the roofs of the houses that faced onto the square. Bowmen... silent assassins. Her mouth went dry.

Their presence might just be a display of strength.

But when they stood and drew their bows, notching arrows, she knew. A silent scream of warning drove the air from her lungs.

Overlord Palatyne gestured to the roof tops around the square. It was the same gesture his second amfina head had used in her vision.

She read defiance in her father's stance, defiance and contempt.

Tears stung her eyes. He would get his wish. King Rolen would die in battle.

Palatyne raised his arm. The arrows flew.

The king's chitin chest plate withstood the barrage, while around him his honour guard went down. The survivors drew swords and tried to engage the Merofynians, but Palatyne's swordsmen held back, letting the bowmen soften them up before they moved in.

King Rolen's horse reared as he signalled his remaining men. They formed a defensive circle around the banner, raising their shields. At this, the swordsmen rushed them, dragging the men from their mounts.

Piro's breath caught in her throat. At this distance she could only just hear the clash of metal and roar of voices. Her father and his men were like characters in a play as they fought on, hopelessly outnumbered.

Numbly, she watched the struggle. The Rolencian banner dipped, then fell. Finally, the fighting ceased. Men pulled back, wiping their weapons, leaving a litter of bodies. One man plucked something from amidst the fallen, then strode over to Palatyne to present the foenix banner.

The overlord swung it by the pole so all could see. He cantered his mount over to the still-burning remains of the bonfire, tossing the banner into the flames. His men cheered.

Piro's vision swam. Her father was dead. Hot fury seared away her grief. King Rolen had refused to use the foreknowledge her Affinity gave her. He had chosen to die. She was so angry with him she could have hit him.

And it struck her that, although she had not made the same mistake as her mother, her father had still died.

High on Eagle Tower, all around Piro the servants exclaimed, stunned and indignant.

Piro ran to the far side of the tower. Several courtyards over, the mourning tower's top floor was visible above the intervening roofs. Two pale faces peered from a window. Piro tore off her white maid's over-smock and waved it. Someone bumped her and the smock fell like a wounded bird, fluttering all the way down to the crowded courtyard below.

'Sorry,' a young candle-trimmer muttered. His eyes widened when he recognised her.

Piro pressed a finger to her lips and he nodded. She took off down the stairs.

She had to reach her mother and make plans. Rolenhold would not be taken.

The loyal warlords would come to their aid. Byren would bring back the abbey's warrior monks, and he and Lence would crush the Merofynians. They had only to shut Rolenhold's gates and hold out until help came. The people would be dismayed by Palatyne's treachery but they must not lose heart. What the castle needed now was strong leadership.

With all the confusion, perhaps she could steal the key from the guard and free her mother. Quick as thought, her feet carried her across the first courtyard, where she heard the cries of despair and outrage as the news of the king's murder spread. Many townspeople wept openly and it struck Piro that they had loved her father.

With their reaction came understanding. The Merofynian overlord had broken the code of war and killed King Rolen, to break the will of Rolencia, but he would not succeed.

By the time Piro reached the courtyard below the mourning tower, the news was already ahead of her and the townsfolk lamented loudly. Piro's hands closed in fists, nails biting into her palms. She wanted to shake the townsfolk. All they had to do was remain resolute and wait for help. Now was the time for her mother to prove her loyalty to Rolencia and provide that strong leadership.

Even the animals responded to the mood, with their own cries of distress. There was no sign of the two guards, who had probably run to their commander. If the third man on guard outside her mother's chamber had also left, then there would be no chance to steal the keys.

Piro raced up the stairs. Her calves would be aching tomorrow from all this running up tower steps. She reached the top floor and peered around the corner. No guard.

Only slightly out of breath, she padded over to the door. 'Mother?'

'Piro? Don't let the guard see you!'

'He's gone. Even the courtyard guards have gone. I'm going to try to get you out of here. The people need their queen.'

From the courtyard below someone screamed and Piro heard the clash of steel on steel.

When she ran to the window her mind denied what she saw, as warriors in Merofynian blue poured through the far arch. This could not be happening. The castle was too strong to be taken by force.

She craned out even further and saw the curve of her mother's cheek as she did the same from her window.

'Mother.'

But the queen did not hear her. Piro snatched the remains of the guard's bread bun and threw it at her mother, who turned and caught sight of her. About a body length of slightly curved dressed stone wall separated them.

Piro gestured below. 'How could they breach our defences?'

'Guile.' Her mother pointed. 'See the direction they're coming from. A traitor must have opened the postern gate!'

Chapter Ten

Piro stared down to the courtyard where the fighting was hand-to-hand, with the men in dark red falling before the azure and black-clad forces, as the townsfolk tried to grab their children and run.

But there was nowhere to run to.

'What is it?' Seela demanded from inside the cell. 'I must see.'

Piro could just make out the old woman's silver head as she peered into the courtyard. The panicked screams from below made Piro's stomach churn. Her old nurse withdrew and, after a moment, the queen reappeared at the window.

'Who would betray us, Mother?'

'Illien of Cobalt, if it suited him.' The queen spoke in a strange flat voice. 'Only in the last few days have I realised the depths of his trickery. I've been a fool.'

'No.' Piro's denial was instinctive, but no one could deny the searing clash of metal on metal. Men shouted, screaming as they died. The king was dead and Queen Myrella imprisoned, just when they needed her to rally the castle's defenders. Or was she? Piro judged the width of the small decorative ledge that connected the two window sills. 'I know. You can climb out the window and work your way along the ledge to this one.'

Her mother stared at her in disbelief.

'You can hold onto the roof to keep your balance,' Piro insisted.

'I could never -'

'I'll come out and lead you around.' Piro swung her weight onto the window sill and prepared to lift herself out.

'Stop, Piro. You'll fall.'

'I won't. I know I can do it.'

Her mother shook her head. 'Maybe you could, but I couldn't and I'm certain Seela couldn't get through the window.'

She was right. Piro slumped on the window sill.

Her mother leant sideways, hand outstretched towards Piro who craned as far as she could so that their fingers just touched.

'It is for the best, Piro. Soon they will come for me. If this is all part of Cobalt's plan I will be his prize for surrendering the castle.' Her mother tried to smile. 'Don't worry, he won't let them hurt me. The sooner we negotiate our surrender, the better. There is no need for this slaughter. Merofynians are not barbarians.'

'Surrender?' Piro baulked at the thought. Had the queen reverted to her birth allegiance?

'How else can we regroup and fight back?' her mother countered.

Pride filled Piro. How could she have doubted her mother? 'I will stand at your side. I'm not afraid.'

She was petrified.

'Of course you are afraid,' Seela snapped, out of sight but not out of the conversation.

The queen smiled. 'Go, put on your best gown. You must look every bit a kingsdaughter if we are to use you to our advantage. When the time is right, I will say your full name, then you must come out of hiding and join me. If I don't call you
Pirola
then stay hidden, for you are more use to me as a free agent. Remember how you played the goatherd when Byren was negotiating with the overlord of Unistag Spar?'

Piro nodded. 'That was fun.' When it hadn't been terrifying.

'Good. Lence is now king. If I call you
Piro
you must take this message to him. Tell him not to let fear for my safety stay his hand. He must retake the castle. Can you remember that?'

Piro nodded. 'But it doesn't feel right leaving you.'

'I'm a captured piece in the game of Duelling Kingdoms. I've been a piece since I was betrothed at the age of eight.' She grimaced. 'Sometimes you must sacrifice a piece to win, you know that.'

Piro nodded, blinking tears from her eyes. Her mother's face swam in her vision. 'But -'

'Go now, Piro, and may Halcyon watch over you.' The queen's fingers tightened on hers. 'And, Piro, promise me this?'

Piro nodded, ready to promise anything.

'I prayed my children would not inherit my Affinity, yet you have it. Do not deny it as I have done. Learn from my mistakes.'

There was so much Piro wanted to say, but her throat felt too tight to speak. She nodded and let her mother's fingers go. Her shoulder and side ached from the strain of leaning so far and the hard stone sill had cut into her thighs.

She jumped lightly to the floor, heading down the stairs. In the shadowed doorway of the first-floor landing, she hesitated. The courtyard was empty of living things, except for a boy of about eleven wearing Merofynian blue. He chased a chicken around the yard, swinging another one by its legs, both squawking indignantly.

The boy cornered the chicken at last.

'I'm going to wring your neck m'self then throw you in the pot!' he told it and promptly dispatched both birds.

Piro had been taught the court Merofynian and he spoke a rough common version, but she had no trouble understanding him.

He tucked the bird under his arm and left. Nothing remained but three dead bodies, crushed cages, trodden animal dung and assorted chicken feathers.