Hidden Warrior (12 page)

“It’s as he says,” Tharin concurred. “I hardly recognized him. It looked like an apoplexy to me.”

“Then Sir Tharin burst in and carried the prince away before I could tell if he—I feared he was dead, too!” He gave Tobin a bobbing bow. “Thank the Four you are well.”

“If I may, my lord?” said Niryn.

Hylus nodded and the wizard approached the quaking man. “Give me your hand, Bisir.”

Niryn seemed to grow larger and the air darkened around him. It made every hair on the back of Tobin’s neck stand up. Ki stepped closer and his hand brushed Tobin’s.

Bisir let out a hiss of pain and sank to his knees, his hand locked in Niryn’s. When Niryn released him at last, Bisir cowered where he was, cradling his hand against his chest as if it had been burned.

Niryn shrugged and sat down on the hearth bench. “He speaks the truth as he knows it. It would seem the only person who knows what really happened in that room is Prince Tobin.”

For one awful moment, Tobin thought the wizard meant to put him to the same test, but Niryn simply stared at him with hard red-brown eyes. Tobin felt no strange
sensations this time, but summoned the mind trick Arkoniel had taught him just in case.

“He grabbed me roughly, accused me of trying to turn the king against him—”

“And did you?” Niryn asked.

“What? No! I never wrote anything to my uncle.”

Niryn gave him a sly smile. “Never tried to exercise any influence with him at all? It was no secret that you despised Orun. Not that I blame you in that, of course.”

“I—I don’t have any influence with the king,” Tobin whispered. Was Niryn growing larger again? Was the air growing dark and thick around him?

“It would never have occurred to the prince,” Tharin interjected, and Tobin saw that once again he was holding his anger in check. “He’s only a child. He knows nothing of court ways.”

“Forgive me, I was only thinking how far a noble heart will go for love for a worthy friend.” Niryn glanced at Ki as he bowed to Tobin. “Please accept my most humble apology, my prince, if I in any way gave offense.” His hard gaze slewed back to Tharin. “Perhaps others took it upon themselves to plead the prince’s case?”

Tharin shrugged. “For what reason? Rhius chose Ki as his son’s squire. The king understands that bond.”

Niryn turned to Ki again. “And what about you, Squire Kirothius? Where were you while Prince Tobin was with his guardian?”

“Here, my lord. The steward can vouch for me.”

“No need for that. I was only curious. Well, it seems there’s nothing more to be learned here.”

Lord Hylus nodded gravely. “No doubt your guess is right, Tharin. Strong emotion is a dangerous thing in an old man. I believe it is safe to assume that Lord Orun was the author of his own destruction and brought on a fit of apoplexy.”

“Unless it was some dark magic.”

Everyone stared at Niryn.

“There are spells that could bring on such a death. The man certainly had enemies and there are wizards who can be bought. Don’t you agree, Mistress Iya?”

Iya held out her hand. “If you are accusing me, my lord, by all means put me to the test. I have nothing to fear from you.”

“I assure you, Mistress, if it had been you, I would already know it.”

Tharin cleared his throat. “With all respect, my lords, Prince Tobin has had a difficult day. If there is no more to be learned, perhaps we should give him some peace?”

Hylus rose and patted Tobin on the back. “You are a brave boy, my dear prince; but I think your friend is right. Rest now, and put this unpleasantness behind you. I shall act as your guardian until your uncle declares another, if you have no objection.”

“I’d like that very much!”

“What’s to become of Lord Orun’s household, Lord Hylus?” Bisir asked softly, still crouched on the rushes.

“On your feet, lad. Go home and tell the steward that the house and staff are to be maintained until the estate is settled. Hurry along now, before everyone bolts with the silver!”

“Come along, Prince Tobin. Let’s get you settled,” Iya said, just as if she were Nari.

“Couldn’t Bisir come live here?” he whispered, letting her and Ki lead him away to his own room.

But Iya shook her head. “Forget him. Light a fire, Ki.”

Tobin bridled. “How can you say that? You saw how he was at the keep all those weeks. And he did try to help me today. Ask Tharin—”

“I know. But appearances are very important here and it wouldn’t do.” When Tobin stood his ground she relented a little. “I’ll keep an eye on him for you, then.”

Tobin gave a grudging nod, his old distrust for her resurfacing. He wouldn’t have had to argue with Arkoniel this way.

R
eturning to the Companions the following morning, Tobin and Ki found themselves the center of much unwanted attention. Korin and the others would have had the tale told three times over during the morning run if Master Porion hadn’t finally threatened to make them muck out the stables if they didn’t leave Tobin alone.

As the day went on, however, even his threats weren’t enough to stop the whispers and wide-eyed questions. As they stood blowing on their fingers in the archery lists, everyone wanted to know what Orun looked like when he died. What sort of sounds did he make? Was there any blood? Tobin told them what he could and was glad when Ki finally threatened to knock down the next person who pestered him.

Word traveled quickly around the Palatine. For the next few days courtiers and servants alike stared at Tobin, whispering to each other behind raised hands as he passed. He and Ki kept to their rooms as much as possible or retreated to Tobin’s house.

As with most gossip, however, the story was soon sucked dry and within the week the curious had moved on to other scandals. When Caliel challenged him to a game of bakshi at dinner one night, Tobin left Ki to his duties with the other ushers and went to fetch the gaming stones from his room.

He was almost to his door when Lady Una stepped out from the shadows of an empty room across the corridor. Surprise gave way to outright shock when the normally shy girl took him by the hand and pulled him into his
chamber. Molay and Baldus were off having their dinner in the kitchen. Tobin was alone with her.

Pushing the door closed, she gazed at him for a moment in silence, brown eyes shining.

“What is it?” he asked, utterly perplexed.

“Is it true?” she demanded.

“Is—is what true?”

“There’s a rumor going around that before he died, Lord Orun tried to make you choose another squire, and that—well—” She blushed furiously, but looked him squarely in the eye. “People are saying that you named me!”

Tobin blinked. He’d only said it to anger Orun, then forgotten all about it. Bisir must have overheard and carried the tale.

He wanted to sink through the floor as she clasped his hand again, pressing his knuckles to her bodice. “Is it true, Prince Tobin? Did you put me forward for the Companions?”

When he managed a nod she clutched his hand even tighter, looking hard into his face. “Did you mean it?”

“Well …” Tobin hesitated, not liking to lie to her. “I think you’d make a fine squire,” he managed, settling for a half-truth. He wished she’d let go of his hand. “If girls could be squires, you’d be a good one.”

“It’s so unfair!” she cried, eyes flashing with a passion he’d never seen before. “Women have always been warriors in Skala! Ki told me all about his sister. Ahra really is a proper warrior like he says, isn’t she?”

“Oh yes!” Tobin had only met Ahra once, but she’d shown him a thing or two about grappling in a fight. He’d back her against most men in a duel.

“It’s just so unfair!” Releasing his hand, she folded her arms and frowned. “If I wasn’t a noble, I could join the ranks like she did. My grandmother was a general, you know. She died gallantly in battle, defending the queen. And I’ll tell you a secret,” she confided, leaning alarmingly close again. “She comes to me in my dreams sometimes,
on a great white charger. I have her sword, too. Mother gave it to me. Father won’t let me train with a proper arms master, though. Not even at light fencing. But one day, if only I could learn …” She broke off, giving him an embarrassed little smile. “I’m sorry. I’m being silly, aren’t I?”

“No! I’ve seen you shooting in the lists. You’re as good as any of us with the bow. And you ride like a soldier. Even Master Porion said so.”

“He did?” Una positively glowed. “But it’s no good unless you can use a sword. I have to make do with treatises and what I can pick up watching you boys train. I get so jealous sometimes. I should have been born a boy instead!”

The words struck Tobin in a way he didn’t fully understand, and without thinking he blurted out, “I could teach you.”

“Really? You’re not just being charming, or teasing me like the other boys do?”

Tobin wanted to take the words back as soon as he’d said them, but he couldn’t, not with her looking at him like that. “No, I’ll teach you. Ki, too. Just so long as no one finds out.”

Without warning Una leaned forward and kissed him square on the mouth. It was an awkward kiss, bruising Tobin’s lip against his teeth. She fled before he could recover, leaving him agape and blushing beside the open door.

“Bilairy’s balls!” Tobin muttered, tasting blood on his lip. “What did I do that for?”

As bad luck would have it, Alben and Quirion happened to be passing just then.
That figures
, thought Tobin; Quirion stuck to the older boy like dog shit on a shoe.

“What’s the matter? Did she bite you?” Alben drawled.

Tobin shouldered angrily past them, bakshi stones forgotten.

“What’s the matter?” Quirion called after him. “Don’t you like being kissed by
girls?
”

Whirling to make some retort, Tobin tripped over his
own feet and fell against one of the ancient tapestries that lined the corridor. The hanging pole snapped and the whole dusty mess came down on him like a collapsed tent. The other boys howled with laughter.

“Blood, my blood. Flesh, my—” Tobin whispered, then clamped a hand over his mouth. Their laughter faded away down the corridor, but Tobin stayed where he was, horrified at what he’d almost done. Hugging himself in the musty darkness, he searched his memory again, wondering if he’d somehow summoned Brother against Orun, after all.

B
e confided the encounter with Una to Ki and Tharin the next day as they sat by the fire in Tharin’s room, but leaving out the unpleasant aftermath with Alben. He was none too pleased when his friends burst into laughter.

“Tob, you bump brain!” Ki exclaimed. “Una’s had her cap set for you since we got to Ero.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You mean to say you haven’t noticed how she’s always watching you?”

“I’ve thought so, myself,” Tharin said, still chuckling. “But she’s a—just a girl!”

“Well, you do fancy girls, don’t you?” Ki laughed, unwittingly echoing Quirion’s taunt.

Tobin scowled down at his boots. “I don’t fancy anyone.”

“Let him be, Ki,” said Tharin. “Tobin’s young yet, and not used to court. I was the same myself, at his age. As for this sword-training business, though.” His expression turned serious. “She said it herself; her father doesn’t hold to the old ways, and Duke Sarvoi’s not a man to cross. She’ll do better to stick with her shooting and riding.”

Tobin nodded, though a disapproving father scared him a great deal less than the girl’s regard. His lip still hurt where she’d kissed him.

“All the same, you may feel differently in a year or
two,” said Tharin. “She’s a fine girl from a powerful family. A pretty little thing, too.”

“I’ll say!” Ki put in warmly. “If I thought she’d look twice at a lowly squire, I’d be happy to stand in your shoes.”

The sudden warmth in Ki’s voice and his wistful smile made Tobin’s belly tighten, as if he’d eaten something bitter.

Why should I care if Ki fancies her?
But he did. “Well, I only told her that to be kind, anyway,” he grumbled. “She’s probably forgotten all about it.”

“Not that one,” said Ki. “I’ve seen the way she watches us.”

Tharin nodded. “What she told you about her grandmother is true. General Elthia was the equal of any man in the field, and a cagey strategist, too. Your father thought very highly of her. Yes, I can see a bit of the old warrior in young Una. That’s the trouble with these new ways. There are too many girls with the blood of heroes in their veins and the stories still green in their hearts, kept in skirts by the fire.”

“No wonder she’s jealous of a common soldier like Ahra,” said Ki.

“I don’t imagine Erius will let that go on much longer, either. And then where will they all go?”

“You mean there are lots of them? Women warriors?” asked Tobin.

“Yes. Just think of old Cook—or Sergeant Catilan, as she was known before—working away in your father’s kitchen all these years. Erius forced out a lot of the older ones. She was too loyal to argue, but it hurts her pride still. There are hundreds more like her, scattered about the land. Maybe more.”

Tobin stared into the fire, imagining a whole army of dispossessed women warriors, riding like ghosts into an unknown distance. The thought sent a shiver up his spine.

A
rkoniel stretched the stiffness from his shoulders and went to the workroom window. Unfolding the letters Koni had brought that morning, he slowly reread them.

Outside, the afternoon was quickly waning. The tower shadow stretched like a crooked finger across the new snow blanketing the meadow. Except for the churned-up trail left by Koni’s horse, it was smooth and white as a new bed sheet: no snow forts beyond the barracks house, no foot trails snaking away to the river or woods.

And no echoing laughter outside his door, Arkoniel thought glumly. He’d never been lonelier. Only Nari and Cook remained now; the three of them rattled about the place like dice in a cup.

He sighed and turned back to the letters. His presence here remained a secret, so they were ostensibly addressed to Nari. Arkoniel smoothed the first parchment against the windowsill, rubbing his thumb idly over the broken seal. Both boys had written to him of Orun’s death. Iya had sent word earlier, but he was most interested in their versions.