Authors: Lynn Flewelling
Ki felt a pang of guilt, seeing all this. Tobin still dressed himself, and only let Ki help with the straps he couldn’t reach. As much as he admired Tobin’s simplicity, he sometimes wondered if he shouldn’t try to live a bit more like a royal.
Tobin explained Nikides’ concerns, but Korin only
shrugged. “I’ve heard nothing of it, Nik. You mustn’t mind Father. You know how changeable he can be, especially when he’s weary. It’s this damn heat!” He turned back to the mirror to watch as Tanil draped his maroon-and-gold cloak over his shoulders. “But Hylus should know better than to question Father!”
Any son would stand up for his father, Ki knew; he’d done it often enough himself. All the same, there was an imperious note in Korin’s voice he’d been hearing more often lately and it left him uneasy. So did poor Nikides’ stricken look.
“I thought it was the Lord Chancellor’s role to advise the king,” Tobin said quietly.
Korin turned and ruffled his cousin’s hair. “An advisor must still show the proper respect, coz.”
Tobin started to say something, but Ki caught his eye and shook his head slightly. Nikides’ nervous glance told him he’d done the right thing, as well as just how much life at court had changed since the king’s return.
T
he Companions assembled in the mess for Master Porion’s inspection before going on to the New Palace. Tobin stayed close to Nikides as the others milled about.
Ki stood with them, but his eye was on Korin. The prince was in high spirits, chattering on with the older boys like it was some festival they were going off to. Some of them had seen hangings, but tonight wizards would be burned!
“I hear they turn black and shrivel up like a spider in the fire,” said Alben, clearly relishing the idea.
“I heard they explode into colored smoke,” Orneus countered.
“We’ll show ’em how traitors are served in Ero!” Zusthra declared, brandishing his sword. “Bad enough to have enemies over the water without worrying about vipers here at home.”
This was greeted with a hearty cheer.
“Wizards are the most dangerous sort of traitor, with their magic and free ways,” Orneus declared, and Ki guessed he was quoting something he’d heard his father say.
“Rogue priests are the next worst, like that bastard who attacked Korin,” Urmanis chimed in. “And these damn Illiorans who still claim that only a woman can rule Skala? It’s like shitting on all the victories King Erius has given them.”
“My father says all Illiorans still secretly believe that,” said Alben. “Bunch of ingrates! King Erius saved this land.”
Lynx was quiet, Ki noted. That was nothing unusual, but Ki had heard him mention having an uncle who was a wizard and guessed he was more troubled than he let on. Maybe, like Nikides, he was scared of seeing a familiar face tonight.
“Wizards, priests—they’re all moonstruck,” Zusthra declared. “It’s Sakor who puts the strength in our arms.”
Porion strode in just then, looking like a thundercloud. Leaping up on a table, he shouted for their attention.
This was the first time Ki had seen the arms master in full armor. His cuirass was oiled and polished, but showed the scars of many battles, as did the great scabbard swinging at his side and the steel helmet he carried beneath his arm.
“Line up!” he barked, glowering around at them. “Listen to me now, boys, and listen well. It’s no pleasure jaunt we’re going on tonight, so I don’t want any more of that kind of talk. The servants can hear you at the other end of the corridor.”
He set his helmet down and folded his arms. “Traitors or not, the men and women who die tonight are Skalans, and some of them will have supporters in the crowd—friends, family, and the like. As you know, this is the first time in a long time that an execution has been held inside the city walls instead of at Traitor’s Hill. It’s not for me to say whether that’s wise or right, but I can tell you it’s not popular among some factions here in Ero. So keep your
mouths shut, your eyes open, and your swords at the ready. You Companions are coming into your own tonight. What’s your purpose?”
“To guard Prince Korin!” Caliel replied.
“That’s right. You’ve all trained for this and tonight you could be called on to live up to your oath. We’re to ride before the king to the market and back, with king’s men flanking us. At the first sign of trouble, we close ranks around Korin and get him back here any way we can. The king’s men may help us, but the honor and duty are ours.”
“What about Father?” Korin demanded. “I’m not going to be carried off like baggage if he’s in danger!”
“The king will be well protected. Your task, my prince, is to stay alive to rule after him. So no heroics tonight, do you understand?” He held Korin’s eye until the boy nodded, then gave the rest of them a dark look. “And no more carrying on like a bunch of little girls on a picnic, either! This is solemn business.” He paused and rubbed at his grizzled beard. “And a risky one, too, if you ask me. Blood will be spilled in the capital tonight; the blood of priests. Whatever their crimes, it’s an unlucky thing, so stay sharp and be ready for trouble every inch of the way until we’re safe back here again.”
He jumped down from the table and began to sketch out a battle plan on the floor with a bit of chalk. “I’m the most concerned about the market square; that’s where the crowd will be thickest, and most contained. We’ll be here, before the platform at the center. Korin, you and the nobles will flank the king to his right. Squires, you’ll each sit your horse behind your lord and I want you to keep an eye on the crowd while the others are watching the executions. If the worst happens, you stay with Korin and we’ll fight our way back to the gate. Do you all understand?”
“Yes, Master Porion!” they answered with one voice.
He paused again, looking around at them. “Good. And it’s rule of war tonight. Anyone who panics and deserts the prince, I’ll kill myself.”
“Yes, Master Porion!” Ki shouted with the others, knowing it was no idle threat.
As they filed out he gave Tobin’s wrist a quick, furtive squeeze. “Ready?”
Tobin glanced at him, perfectly calm. “Of course. You?”
Ki nodded, grinning. He wasn’t scared either, but swore secretly that if trouble did come, his first concern would not be for Korin.
A
yellow full moon hung over the city, painting a rippling golden path across the face of the harbor below. The air was dead still, as if the whole city was holding its breath. No sea breeze cut the fetid summer smell of the streets. Ki’s torch hardly flickered as they rode slowly along. The tall stone buildings that lined the high street gave back the clatter of hooves and the mournful throbbing of the drums.
Tobin rode beside Korin and Porion, of course, which put Ki just behind them with Caliel, Mylirin, and Tanil. All the squires carried torches. The King’s Guard flanked them and brought up the rear. Ki was glad of the line of red tunics to either side. Tonight he felt the full weight of the responsibility that underlay all their training and banquets and mock battles.
Looking back, he could just see the king over the heads of the other Companions. The torchlight turned Erius’ crown to a wreath of fire around his brow, and glanced from his upraised sword.
“He looks like Sakor himself, doesn’t he?” Mylirin whispered admiringly, following Ki’s gaze.
Ki nodded, distracted by a flash of silver and white beside the king. Lord Niryn rode at the king’s side like a general.
The crowds outside the Palatine had been smaller than they’d expected, and quiet. Passing through a neighborhood populated mostly by Aurënfaie nobles and rich
merchants, however, Ki looked around nervously. It was not late, but hardly a light showed.
A herald rode ahead of the main column, calling out, “The king’s justice will be served. Long live King Erius!”
A few bystanders returned the call, but others faded back into shadowed doorways, watching their progress in silence. Looking up, Ki saw people watching them from their windows. He braced for more cabbages, or worse.
“Priest killer!” a lone voice shouted from the darkness. Ki saw several of the guards look around for the dissident, and a sense of unreality swept over him. These streets he’d ridden so freely suddenly felt like enemy territory.
Tobin and Korin rode at saddle attention, stiff as a pair of pokers, but Tobin was glancing around, alert to any threat. Ki wished he could see his friend’s face, read in those blue eyes what Tobin thought of all this, for suddenly he was more aware than he ever had been of the gulf that separated them—not of wealth, but of blood and history and position.
The crowds were thicker near the East Market. Many held up torches to light the king’s way and Ki scanned their faces: some looked sad, others smiled and waved. Here and there he saw people weeping.
Ki tensed, sweeping the crowd now for the glint of a blade or curve of a bow. He shivered with a mix of relief and dread as the gate finally come into sight ahead of them. He could already hear the sounds of a huge crowd.
This was the largest square in the city. Located halfway between the Palatine and the harbor, it was surrounded on three sides by tall buildings, including a theater the Companions had often patronized. The paved square sloped to the east and was bounded on that side by a low stone parapet overlooking a small wooded park and the harbor below.
Ki hardly recognized the place tonight. All the stalls had been cleared away and people stood shoulder to shoulder except for a processional way kept clear by
Niryn’s grey-backs. Even the shrine of the Four was gone. That, even more than the sight of all those Harrier guards, gave him a strange sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
At the center of the square a broad, banner-draped platform rose like an island above the sea of faces. It was guarded on all sides by ranks of grey-backs armed with hand axes and swords. Eight white-robed wizards stood waiting there. Torches set at the four corners illuminated their silver-stitched robes, and the two large wooden frames looming just behind them.
They look like upended bedsteads, or doorways with no walls around them
, thought Ki, already guessing their purpose from the stories he’d heard. Just behind them loomed a more familiar device: the stark frame of a gibbet. Ladders were propped ready against the crossbeam and Ki counted fifteen halters hanging ready.
A crowd of ministers and nobles sat their horses in the cleared space in front of the platform and Ki was glad to see Lord Hylus among them. No doubt Nikides was breathing a sigh of relief, too, though the old man looked to have aged ten years since the night before.
The crowd fell silent at the king’s approach. The only sounds were the drums and the sound of hooves on the cobblestones.
Korin and the Companions lined on the king’s right, as ordered. Taking his place just behind Tobin, Ki steadied Dragon and rested his hand on his sword hilt.
Niryn dismounted and followed the herald onto the platform. The drummers ceased their playing and for a moment Ki could hear the sea. The Harrier wizards bowed low to the king, then formed up in a semicircle behind their master.
“Witness, all you who have gathered here, the sacred justice of the king!” cried the herald. “By order of King Erius, Heir of Ghërilain, Holder of the Sword, and Protector of Skala, these enemies of Skala will be put to death before this
gathering and the Four. Know that they are traitors against the throne and all lawful people.”
Some cheered this proclamation, but most only murmured among themselves in low voices. In the distance someone shouted angrily, but he was quickly drowned out by other voices.
The herald unrolled a scroll heavy with seals and read out the names of the condemned and the charges against them. The fourth was the young priest who’d thrown the cabbage. His name was Thelanor and he was charged with treason, sedition, and assault against the person of the Prince Royal. He’d already been branded across the mouth with the traitor’s T, the mark of a heretic priest. Guards on the far side of the platform hoisted the bound prisoners into the waiting arms of the hangmen.
The condemned wore long sleeveless tunics of coarse, unbleached muslin. There were a few women among them, but most were men and boys. Most bore the traitor’s brand on their foreheads and all were gagged. Only two others, an old man and woman with grey hair and thin, wrinkled faces, were branded on the mouth like Thelanor. They held their heads high as the guards pushed them to the ladders.
Ki had gone with his family to see thieves and brigands hanged in Colath. The crowds had roared for blood and pelted them with whatever came to hand. Ki and his brothers and sisters had thought it great fun, scavenging stones and rotten apples to throw. His father had given them a copper groat for each hit to spend later at the sweet seller’s booth.
Ki looked around with growing unease. Only a few people threw things and he didn’t see many children at all, except for those standing under the gibbet. One of the boys looked so much like his brother Amin that Ki almost called out to him in alarm before he heard the stranger’s name read.
The drummers beat out a quick tattoo. Soldiers braced
the ladders against the gibbet beam and, one by one, the prisoners were forced up to the halters. A cheer went up from the other Companions as the first man was pushed off to jerk at the rope’s end.
Korin brandished his sword, shouting “Death to Skala’s enemies! Long live the king!”
The others were quick to do the same and none quicker than eager Orneus. Ki was sure he saw the boy look to see if Korin was watching him and despised him for it.
Tobin had drawn his sword with the rest, but didn’t wave it about or cheer. Ki couldn’t muster much enthusiasm, either.
The second man struggled and cried and had to be pried free of the ladder. This panicked some of the other prisoners and for a moment it looked as if the soldiers might have to force them all.
The crowd was warming up now, and a flurry of rotten vegetables rained down on the condemned and their guards.
A woman was the next hanged, and then it was young Thelanor’s turn. He tried to shout something through his gag, but no one could have heard him over the noise anyway. In the end he went to his death like a man, leaping off the ladder before the guards could push him.