Byren slid open the drawer where he kept the lincurium jewellery and the notes for Elina's poem. He was going to escort Garzik to Dovecote and he wanted to make a clean copy to take with him. When the moment was right he'd give the poem to her. He gathered the scraps of half-finished verse, thinking surely there were more of them. No matter, the best version was on the top so he began to write it out on a clean sheet.
'Byren?'
He looked up to see his mother at the door to his chamber. Quickly, he slid the paper under an innocuous book of pre-Merofynian myths.
'I've been thinking.' His mother swept gracefully into the room, accompanied by the soft chink of her keys of office. 'You should take Piro with you, when you go to Dovecote estate. Time with Elina would do her good.' Seeing his expression she added, 'You do mean to escort Garzik back to their estate before the Jubilee, don't you?'
He licked his lips, not wanting to lie.
'Byren?' Her brows gathered together in a straight line.
'I've been delaying leaving in the hope that Lence would return from Cockatrice Spar so I could invite him with us to Dovecote,' Byren revealed. Actually he had considered asking Lence to escort Garzik. Now he wondered if it would make Lence feel better or worse to see Elina.
He ached to see her, but to see her and have her reject him again would devastate him.
'We don't know when Lence will be back. He might stay on Cockatrice Spar until he's ready to escort Rejulas to the Jubilee.' His mother tilted her head watching him and he felt the beginning of a headache. 'Is there something you're not telling me, Byren?'
He frowned, concentrating despite the thumping in his temples. 'Do you ever regret relinquishing your claim on Merofynia?'
She looked surprised and the headache lifted. The queen fiddled with the keys on her waist ring, then laughed softly. 'How could I rule Merofynia? I would have had to leave your father and live there, for an absentee ruler would never be able to contain the warlords. I could not leave your father.'
She was right, an absentee king wouldn't be able to hold Merofynia. Byren cleared his throat. 'But Lence could have ruled Merofynia. He is next in line after you.'
'And you could have ruled Rolencia.' She frowned, releasing the keys. 'Is that what's troubling you? You two are twins after all. Only seven minutes stand between you and the throne — '
'No.' Byren sprang to his feet. 'I don't crave the kingship. I was thinking of Lence.'
'But he is the heir to Rolencia.'
'And Merofynia, if he chose to assert his rights.'
'And he will one day rule Merofynia with Isolt as his queen,' his mother said. 'Though I don't know how he'll divide his time between the two countries.' She paused, obviously mulling over the practicalities.
It was clear to Byren that Lence did not want Merofynia on those terms. 'But he does not love the Merofynian kingsdaughter.'
She laughed. 'Since when does love decide royal marriages? Lence must give poor Isolt a chance. The ambassador assures me she is nothing like her father.' His mother smiled winningly. It was the smile his sister used when she was trying to winkle her way out of trouble. 'So, will you take Piro with you to Dovecote?'
He was trapped. To refuse would lead to embarrassing questions. Besides, the request was not really a request, not coming from his mother. 'Yes, I'll take Piro to see Elina.'
Since he would not actually venture onto Dovecote estate without dishonouring the Old Dove, he would ask Piro to arrange a meeting for him with Elina, so he could give her the poem and plead his case.
Elina had been furious with him but surely, if she did not feel strongly for him, she would not have been so angry. It gave him hope.
Chapter Twenty-One
Byren caught Orrade's arm as they passed on the stairs. They had hardly seen each other since they had returned from Unistag Spar. Byren was still not sure how far he could trust his old friend.
Here, on the stair landing, there was no one to overhear them, still he lowered his voice. 'I'm in a fix, Orrie. I have to escort Garza back to Dovecote estate to acknowledge his bravery, and mother wants me to take Piro to visit Elina.'
Orrade frowned, then one corner of his mouth lifted. 'Yes, that's what I'd call a fix.'
Byren's spirits lightened. He'd missed Orrade, who'd seemed withdrawn since Cobalt asked him to spy.
'You'll have to camp on the edge of the estate and send Piro on with Garzik. That'll make her wonder… I guess there's only one thing for it.' Orrade was serious now. 'You'll have to tell Piro the truth about me.'
'You don't mind?'
'A kingsdaughter, who can do what she did on Unistag Spar, is not going to worry about my preference for men.' Orrade hesitated. 'Do you want me to come too?'
'Of course,' Byren replied. 'If I'm to camp in a chilly snow-cave, while Garzik and Piro sleep in warm beds and eat hot dinners, I want you to suffer with me!'
Orrade laughed. 'You know I'd suffer far worse for you.'
Byren dropped his friend's arm. If he truly had Orrade's loyalty, why hadn't he warned him about Cobalt?
Orrade went to say something, but Byren turned and left him there on the stair. Alone.
Orrade would misinterpret his reaction, thinking Byren was uncomfortable with him. Which he was, whenever he stopped and thought about it.
Byren tried to put himself in Orrade's position. How would he feel, spending every day with Elina, unable to show that he cared? Was it even right for him to presume on Orrade's friendship? His head spun. He wished Orrade had kept his mouth shut.
Byren let his horse stand. They had ridden rather than skating so they could bring enough stores to make a comfortable camp. This camp had to be near enough to Dovecote's keep for Byren to slip over and meet up with Elina, but far enough to avoid detection.
He shaded his eyes to look across the valley. The setting sun's silvery rays picked out Dovecote's warning tower. Each great estate had warning beacons, just as they had a force of trained warriors… once. Thirty years of peace had made everyone grow fat and prosperous. But not the Old Dove. He still drilled his honour guard himself. Mind you, he'd outlived the veterans of Byren the Fourth's War of 246 and nearly all the veterans of the Merofynian War of 269 that put King Rolen on the throne.
Byren blinked. The Dove was nearly eighty. How strange it must be to live so long, to see others who were born when you were an adult grow old and die before you.
The grey stone of the warning tower gleamed like polished pewter. It was close to spring cusp but the thaw had not yet begun. Soon the land would be madly sprouting, dormant seeds battling each other to accept Halcyon's blessing. Strange to think that this snow-shrouded valley would be a steaming jungle by summer's cusp.
'Not far.' Piro spurred her horse on.
'We'll camp here,' Byren announced. Now that it was time to reveal his banishment from Dovecote estate and the reason for it, he was worried about Piro's reaction.
His sister twisted in the saddle to stare at him. 'But we're nearly there.'
He nodded to the setting sun. 'Nearly night.'
'There's no cloud cover. We could ride by starlight,' she protested.
'We're camping here.' Byren swung his leg over the horse's back, dropping to the snowy ground.
'I don't — '
'For once, will you do as I say? There's something I have to tell you, Piro. Something important.'
This piqued her curiosity and she swung her leg over the saddle, landing lightly on the snow. 'All right. I'm listening.'
He nodded to Garzik who collected her mount's reins, then moved off to unsaddle the horses and rub them down. Without a word to Orrade, Byren began to dig the snow out of a gully to make a snow-cave. A big one, since he planned on being here for more than a day or two.