'The one we found at the seep.'
Dunstany shook his head, as he walked around the counter, studying the contorted Power-worker from all angles. 'I doubt it was the Utlander's Affinity-slave that did this.'
'She hated him. She could've moved the stone like he did, wrapped in something. She — '
'I doubt she could kill a man. How did the sentry die?'
'Someone snapped his neck,' the man admitted. 'No signs of a fight.'
'Then she didn't do this,' Dunstany decided.
'Aren't you going to remove the stone?' the man asked.
'No point. He's dead. Was probably beyond help when you found him. If the stone was placed in contact with his skin while he was asleep, he had no mental guards in place. It would have plunged straight into where his Affinity power fed his life force and drained him at the source.'
The men shivered and muttered wards under their breath, reminding Piro how Fyn had taught her to protect herself against renegade Affinity. She must be on alert, ready to use the whispered chants and repetitive movements.
Piro glanced from the warriors to the noble Power-worker. She wasn't supposed to understand Merofynian, but anyone could tell from their stance and tone that this was serious.
'No, there was nothing you could have done,' Dunstany said slowly. 'You can go. His brother will be here soon.'
'You'll speak for us, my lord. He won't — '
'I will speak for you. You need not fear his anger.'
The men accepted this and hurried out. Piro recognised the same trust that her father's men had had in their king. While Palatyne's own men feared and fawned over him, the Merofynians respected Dunstany. More revealingly, they expected him to be fair and protect them from the Utland Power-worker.
She stared at Dunstany.
He caught her looking and spoke in Rolencian. 'This is what happens when someone with Affinity comes in contact with an unleashed sorbt stone. Never underestimate their power.'
She nodded. He seemed to expect it of her.
'You can go back to the kitchen now, Seela. Tell Cook to serve wine in the dining room and that we may have at least one more to dinner.'
Dismissed, she returned to the kitchen and delivered the message. Soterro and the cook had been helping themselves to what was left of the dismembered roast chickens and all of them had grease on their fingers and chins.
'More for dinner? That's easy for him to say,' Cook muttered in Merofynian, then asked Piro. 'So? What's going on?'
She glanced to the remains of the birds, stomach clenching and unclenching. They had almost been picked clean but…
The cook thrust the platter towards her and she began going through the bones for slivers of meat. 'It's the Utland Power-worker's brother — '
'We know that,' Cook snapped. 'Tell us something we don't know.'
'He's dead.'
They looked suitably impressed.
'Killed by an unleashed sorbt stone,' Piro supplied.
'I'll bet it was the Affinity-slave,' Soterro muttered. 'Can't keep an Affinity-touched person chained.'
The cook nodded wisely.
Piro shook her head. 'Lord Dunstany thinks not. He doesn't believe the slave could have snapped the sentry's neck without a fight.'
Their eyes widened.
'What, what? Who's dead?' the kitchen boy demanded in Merofynian, unable to follow more than the rudiments of Rolencian.
As the cook explained, Piro polished off the birds. She had only just washed her hands when the bell from the dining room rang.
Piro stood up but Soterro beat her to it, eager to hear the latest news while serving his master and guest. When he left, the cook and kitchen boy fell silent, straining to hear, but could only detect the murmur of voices. Soterro returned a few minutes later looking slightly flustered.
'How did the Utlander take it?' Cook whispered.
'He's furious. Thinks there's an enemy Power-worker wandering Rolencia,' Soterro explained with relish. 'We'll need two more goblets, Seela. Hurry, girl. The overlord's here, too. Dinner settings for three, Grysha.'
At this, Cook began to fuss over the presentation of the food while Soterro made up another tray with glasses and more wine, a Merofynian white this time. Heart thudding, Piro watched him.
Palatyne was here…
All she needed to do was slip some hellsbane into his food to avenge her family. Only she didn't have any yet.
'The door,' Soterro snapped.
Piro hastened down the short hall to hold the door open so that he could back through with the tray. She caught a quick glimpse of the room beyond.
Palatyne and the Utlander stood in front of the fireplace with Dunstany. Palatyne had discarded his battle armour for a padded black velvet vest and silk shirt of royal azure, its long sleeves pinned up with brooches. He wore a circlet of silver with a blue topaz set in the centre of his forehead. He looked like a warlord, trying to look like a Merofynian noble. Someone had broken his nose and it lay flat against his face, making him seem pugnacious, but she knew how cunning he was.
But it was the Utlander who drew her eye. He bristled as he paced the floor, radiating fury and Affinity. Grateful to escape, she let the door swing shut and returned to the kitchen, where the cook and kitchen boy exchanged looks.
'Well?' Cook demanded.
'They didn't say anything. The Utlander's furious.'
'That Utlander…' Grysha shuddered and made the sign to ward off evil. Which struck Piro as odd, because their master was a renegade Power-worker, but somehow Lord Dunstany was much more civilised.
'It's Palatyne I dread. He'll want to punish someone for sure.' The cook wiped his hands on his apron. 'We must be sure the dinner's perfect.'
Piro helped them stack more cutlery and plates on a tray while the cook freshened up the garnishes.
Soterro returned. 'Time to serve up. Come along, Seela. Give the overlord the same courtesies you'd give royalty. He might be nothing more than the most vicious of the spar warlords, but he sees himself as a suitor to Isolt Merofyn Kingsdaughter.'
So Piro had no choice, she had to serve the overlord.
She and Grysha took a tray each and trooped out after Soterro, placing the food on the sideboard. Soterro sent the boy back but kept Piro with him, giving her a severe look that promised retribution if she brought shame on Lord Dunstany's household.
'…seems a renegade Power-worker roams Rolencia,' Dunstany was saying, 'one who is our enemy but has not, so far, sought us out.'
'Could it have been a simple case of theft? He saw an opportunity, took the Affinity-slave and the calandrius? One thing is for sure, it was not the abbey's mystics master,' Palatyne remarked. 'My men tossed his body into a ditch along with the rest of the abbey's warrior monks!'
Piro paused as she placed clean cutlery on the table before each man. The abbey's warrior monks were dead? Impossible.
Soterro nudged her to keep setting the table. Fresh cutlery was a Merofynian noble custom her father had not bothered with, preferring to use his knife and fingers, but her mother had schooled her in its use.
'Then you've heard from the abbey as well?' Dunstany asked.
Close as she was to the overlord, she could not help but notice Palatyne cast the Utlander a swift look, rather like one might at a trained but vicious dog. But it was not a look of fear so much as wary, sly amusement, as if Palatyne enjoyed baiting the Utlander.
'My strategy overcame the abbey,' the overlord announced, still watching the Utlander. 'Even without your brother. Cyena and Mulcibar's mystics, along with my men, had no trouble subduing Halcyon's monks, nothing but boys and old men left to defend the abbey. They didn't stand a chance.'
Nausea roiling in Piro's belly. Fyn dead. A rushing noise filled her head.
No. She would not give up hope. He might yet have escaped. Fyn was clever and fast.
Piro stepped back, into the shadows. Dimly, she was aware that a branch of candles lit the men's faces where they sat around the table, while she stood by the sideboard in shadow. No one noticed her sudden retreat, for Soterro chose that moment to display the white meat with its fruit garnishes. Dunstany nodded his approval and Soterro returned to the sideboard to serve the food.