Hidden Warrior (62 page)

“Yes. Rise, with Atyion’s thanks,” Tobin replied.

But Jorvai remained on his knees, looking up at her from beneath his shaggy grey brows. “Is this the son of Rhius I bow to?”

Tobin pulled off her helm. “I am the daughter of Ariani and Rhius.”

Arkoniel and the Illioran priestess who’d come with them from Atyion stepped out to join them. “This is the one who was foretold. She is as she says,” the priestess told him.

“It’s true,” Arkoniel told him. “I’ve known Tobin since birth, and this is the same person.”

“By the Light!” A look of pure wonder came over
Jorvai’s face. He had heard the prophecies, and believed. “Will the daughter of Ariani accept the fealty of Colath?”

Tobin accepted his sword. “I do, and most gratefully. Rise, Lord Jorvai and clasp hands with me. My father spoke well of you.”

“He was a great warrior, your father. It seems you take after him. And here’s Captain Tharin!” He and Tharin embraced. “By the Light, I haven’t seen you in years. It’s good to find you still among the living.”

Tobin smiled. “Tell me, my lord, does Ahra of Oakmount still serve you?”

“She’s one of my best captains.”

Tobin motioned Ki forward and clasped his shoulder. “Tell Captain Ahra that her brother and I asked after her, and that she should seek us out when Ero is safe.”

Jorvai looked more closely at Ki. “Well now! One of old Larenth’s boys, aren’t you?”

“Yes, my lord. Kirothius of Oakmount. And Rilmar,” he added.

Jorvai laughed outright at this. “I miss the old bandit and his brood. I don’t doubt you’re well pleased with this one, Highness, if he takes after his old dad.”

“He does, my lord,” Tobin replied, and Ki could tell she liked the plainspoken old man.
No wonder
, he thought fondly;
they’re cut from the same cloth
.

T
his had been well-tended farmland when Iya and the wizard had crossed it last night. Now, as if some great tide had come and gone, the churned soil was scattered with bodies, hundreds of men and horses abandoned like broken toys across acres of trampled mud.

Tobin had chased off the enemy, but soon returned and stopped half a mile off. Iya gathered the others, and they set off to meet her, with some of the younger men carrying Eyoli in a cloak.

As they left the cover of the trees a black war charger thundered past with rolling red eyes, dragging its entrails
behind it. His dead master dangled and bounced alongside, one foot still caught in the iron loop of a stirrup.

The groans of the wounded came from all sides as the wizards made their way across the battlefield. Skalan men-at-arms were still busy dispatching the dying and stripping the enemy corpses.

Ero was wreathed in a sullen sunset haze. The Palatine was still under siege, but Iya could also make out a dark line of men before the lower gates. The enemy would not be taken unawares there.

Reaching the main body of Tobin’s army, they were questioned briefly, then led to the center of the great throng where Tobin was conferring with a group of warriors. Jorvai and Kyman were foremost among them. Ki and Tharin were both still with her, and Arkoniel, too, Iya saw with a rush of relief. The young wizard saw her and touched Tobin’s shoulder. Tobin turned, and Iya’s breath caught in her throat.

This was the face the Oracle had shown her—weary, filthy, not beautiful, but indomitable. This was their warrior queen.

“Majesty,” Iya said, hurrying forward and sinking to her knees. The others joined her. “I bring wizards loyal to you and to Skala.”

“Iya! Thank the Four, but where did you come from?” The voice was different, and yet the same. Tobin drew her to her feet and gave Iya a wry grin. “You’ve never knelt to me before. And I’m not queen yet.”

“You will be. You’ve come into your own at last.”

“And your work is done.”

A chill ran up Iya’s spine. Had Tobin intentionally echoed Brother’s words? But she saw only welcome in her eyes and a fierce resolve.

“And your work is just begun, it seems, but you’ll have help,” she told Tobin. “This is Master Dylias. He and these others stood against the Harriers and fought for Ero. They
were with me when I found you and the Companions the other day.”

“Thank you all,” Tobin said, bowing to the ragtag group.

“And we’ll fight for you again, if you’ll have us,” Dylias said, bowing low. “We bring fresh word of the enemy’s movements inside the city. We were there until last night.”

Tobin took him to consult with her captains and lords, but Ki and Arkoniel stayed with Iya.

Arkoniel embraced her, holding her tight. “By the Light!” he mumbled, and she realized he was weeping. “We did it,” he whispered against her shoulder. “Can you believe it? We did it!”

“Indeed we did, my dear.” She gave him a squeeze, and he stepped back, wiping his eyes. For a moment he looked like a boy again and her heart swelled.

“I’m glad to see you, too, Mistress,” Ki told her shyly. “I didn’t like leaving you back there.”

Iya smiled. “And here you are, right where you belong. I knew I chose well that day.”

“You might have told me a bit more,” he replied softly. She caught a hint of accusation in those dark brown eyes, but it disappeared as he caught sight of Eyoli, who was being tended to by several healers now. “Eyoli, is that you?” he exclaimed, hurrying over. “Hey, Tobin, look! He’s alive after all!”

Tobin came back and knelt by the young wizard. “Thank the Light! I just sent riders looking for you, but here you are!”

Eyoli raised his hand to his brow and heart. “As soon as I have my strength back, I’ll fight for you again. Perhaps I’ll get better at it, with practice.”

Tobin laughed, a clear, good sound in the midst of such a day, then stood and called out, “All of you, this is the wizard Eyoli, who helped me escape from Ero. I declare him a hero and my friend!”

A cheer went up and the young man colored shyly.

Tobin moved to Iya’s side. “And this is the seer you’ve heard of. It was Mistress Iya who the Lightbearer spoke to, and she and Master Arkoniel who protected me as a child. They’re to be held in highest honor forever.”

Iya and Arkoniel bowed in their turn and touched their hearts and brows to Tobin.

Mounting her horse again, Tobin addressed them again in a loud voice.

“I thank you all for your bravery, your faith, and your loyalty. Every man and woman who fought beside me today is a hero worthy of the name, but I must ask more of you.”

She pointed to the smoking city. “For the first time in our long history, an enemy holds Ero. By all reports, there may still be as many as six thousand waiting for us there. We must go on. I will go on! Will you follow me?”

The response was deafening. Tobin’s charger reared and she brandished her sword. The blade caught the sunset light, flashing like Sakor’s fiery sword.

Gradually the cheering took on a rhythm. “The queen! The queen!”

Tobin motioned for silence. It took some time, but when she could be heard again, she cried out, “By the Lightbearer’s moon rising in the east, I swear to you that I will be your queen, but I will not claim that title until it’s the Sword of Ghërilain I lift in my right hand. I’m told my kinsman Prince Korin holds it now—”

She was drowned out by a swell of angry voices.

“Usurper!”

“The plague bringer’s son!”

But Tobin wasn’t finished. “Hear me, loyal Skalans, and pass this on to all you meet as my will!” Her voice was hoarse now, but it carried. “Prince Korin’s blood is as true as my own! I will not have it spilled. Any man who harms my kinsman harms me and will be counted among my
enemies! Look there.” She pointed at the ruined city again. “Even as you curse him, the prince fights for Skala. We fight for Ero, not against Korin!” She paused and seemed to sag a bit. “Let us save our land. We’ll sort out the rest after that. For Ero and Skala!”

A
rkoniel heaved a sigh of relief as the throng took up the call, but Iya frowned. “Doesn’t she realize he won’t just step aside?”

“Perhaps not, and even if she does, this was the right thing to say,” he replied. “Not every lord will be as easily won as Kyman or Jorvai. There are too many of Solari’s ilk left, and Korin has a legitimate claim in the eyes of many others. Tobin can’t be known first as a kin slayer or renegade. Whatever happens later on, I suspect this speech of hers just laid the foundation of her legend.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Trust the Lightbearer, Iya. The fact that she came through that battle in one piece is a good omen. And the fact that we’re both standing here with her, too.” He hugged her again. “By the Light, I’m glad to see you. When Eyoli sent word of the attack the other day—Well, it sounded bad.”

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon, either! Have you learned to fly?” she asked. “And what happened to your wrist? Were you hurt in the battle?”

He laughed. “No, I kept out of that. But I did make good use of that spell I showed you. Remember the one I lost my finger to?”

Iya raised a disapproving eyebrow. “The translocation? By the Light, you used it on yourself?”

“I’ve made some improvements since we last spoke. It was the only way to get to her in time.” He held up his broken wrist again. “Can’t say that I recommend it for general use just yet, but think of it, Iya! A hundred miles crossed in the blink of an eye.”

Iya shook her head. “I knew you’d be great, dear boy.
I just had no idea how quickly you’d achieve it. I’m so proud of you—” She broke off with a sudden look of alarm. “Where is it? You haven’t let it out of your possession already?”

Arkoniel pulled back his cloak and showed her the battered old leather bag at his belt. “Here it is.”

“And there
they are
, and their necromancers,” Iya murmured, frowning back at Ero. “Keep away from them. Hang back if you must, or throw it through one of those black holes of yours, but don’t let it be taken!”

“I thought of that after I got here,” he admitted. “I could send it back. Wythnir is still—”

“No. Remember what Ranai told you. Only one Guardian can carry it, and that child is not the one. If the worst should come and I still live, send it to me.”

“And if you’re—gone?”

“Well, I guess we better keep an eye out for other successors, eh?” She sighed. “What it has to do with any of this, I don’t know, but at least we’ve come this far. I saw Tobin revealed, Arkoniel, that night in Ero. The others did, too. It must have been when the binding spell was broken. I saw her face as clearly as I see yours now. Did you and Lhel see her, too?”

“I did, but I don’t know about Lhel. I haven’t seen her since midwinter. She’s just—disappeared. There wasn’t time to look for her when I was at the keep yesterday, but Nari hadn’t seen her since we left for the mountains.”

“You’re worried for her.”

Arkoniel nodded. “She left in the dead of winter and took almost nothing with her. If she didn’t return to the keep or her oak—Well, perhaps she didn’t make it back at all. She had nowhere else to go except to her own people, and I don’t think she’d do that before Brother was free.”

“No, I’m sure she wouldn’t.”

“Perhaps she’ll come to Ero,” he said without much hope.

“Perhaps. What about Brother? Have you seen him?”

“Not since Tobin undid the binding. He appeared for a moment then. Have you?”

“A glimpse. He’s not finished with us yet, Arkoniel.” Her fingers were cold as she clasped his hand. “Be on your guard.”

T
obin’s attack had temporarily distracted the Plenimarans from their assault on the citadel.

Leaning wearily on the ramparts, Lutha and Nikides watched with mounting hope as Tobin’s small army decimated the Plenimaran force and drove it back behind the walls. Tobin’s banner was at the forefront of every charge.

Despite this initial defeat, the remaining Plenimaran host still held the city and the citadel. The remaining Palatine defenders were exhausted from pushing off scaling ladders and putting out fires.

The Plenimaran catapults had been moved up the hill two days earlier and rained a steady bombardment of stones and fire. Many of the outer villas and temples had been lost. The Companions’ former quarters at the Old Palace were an infirmary, filled with the wounded and the homeless.

The Plenimaran commander, Lord General Harkol, had demanded their surrender twice the day before and twice Korin had refused. They had water and food enough for an extended siege, but had long since exhausted their supply of arrows. They’d been reduced to tossing anything they could find down on the enemy’s heads—furniture, paving stones, chamber pots, logs cut from the trees of the Palatine gardens and the Grove of Dalna. They’d even thrown down the stone effigies from the royal tombs.

“I believe the queens would approve,” Chancellor Hylus had said dryly when he’d suggested it. “They gave their lives for Skala. I’m sure they would not begrudge a bit of stone.”

The old fellow must have been right, Lutha thought. They’d managed to crush several Plenimaran necromancers at a blow with Queen Markira.

W
atching Tobin’s forces regroup that afternoon, Lutha shook his head. “You don’t believe that nonsense of Niryn’s, do you, Nik?”

“About Tobin claiming to be a girl?” Nikides rolled his eyes.

“No, I mean about him turning traitor and trying to take the throne.”

“I believe that even less, but Korin seems to. You saw him the other day. And I don’t like the way Niryn keeps him shut away every night, pouring wine down his throat and poison in his ear. That scares me more than that army down there.”

T
obin attacked twice again before nightfall, storming the walls and barricades. The Plenimaran line held, but the ground beyond was littered with their dead. Rain blew in off the sea just after sunset, and clouds sealed the sky.

As the last light faded, another host marched out of the gloom to the south. It was impossible to make out their banners but Nikides said it looked like knights and yeoman, probably from Ylani and the towns of the middle coast. There were at least two thousand, and suddenly the Plenimarans found themselves besieged in the burned waste they’d made between the harbor and the citadel. The forces around the citadel began to thin and the flickering movement of torches through the night showed that they were dividing themselves to fight on three fronts.