Nor Iron Bars A Cage (11 page)

I couldn’t breathe. Tobin swung down and dropped to his knees on the road beside me. “Lyon! What’s wrong?”

Every muscle in my body seized tight like a bad case of lock-jaw. I curled in, until all I could see was the fabric of my own trousers, inches from my eyes. I’d winded myself in a fall before, and this felt almost the same. My chest knew how to suck in air, but it wouldn’t move. I wasn’t even blinking. Tobin’s voice above me had taken a more panicked tone, but I could no longer make out the words above the rushing in my ears. Then the world went dark.

When I came to, my head was pillowed on something warm and firm, and someone’s hand was rubbing my chest. I yelped, and scrambled away. When I looked up, Tobin’s startled gaze met mine. I forced myself to take a deeper breath, and another.

“Oy, he’s better then,” A voice behind me said.

I whirled around, tangling myself in the dust. We were at the side of the road, and on the gravel verge a small crowd had gathered. I gritted my teeth so as not to scream at them to all stop looking at me. Tobin stood quickly and put himself between me and the other travelers. “Just a fit,” he said. “He’s been prone to them since he was a lad. He’ll be well enough now.”

“Shall I run to the hostel for one of the Sisters?” a woman asked. “It won’t take but an hour, and I’d do it for five coppers.”

“I’ll do it for four,” someone else called.

“I don’t need help,” I ground out through still clenched teeth.

“Thanks for the offer,” Tobin said more clearly. “But we’ll be fine. We’ll be on our way soon enough. Thanks for your concern.”

The crowd muttered a bit, but when it became clear I wasn’t going to do anything more exciting than sit around in the dirt they headed off on their own errands. I made my way up the embankment away from the road to the trees and sat under an old oak. Tobin coaxed the horses up too, and sat down near me, holding both sets of reins.

I was aware of his eyes on me, as I laid my hands on my knees and consciously relaxed each muscle, one by one. I’d found the technique helpful to prepare for spellcasting, when Meldov first taught it to me. I’d used it a thousand times since then, when my mind was trying to crawl out of my skin.

I focused on my breathing, trying to make each breath just a beat longer than the last, and finally felt my heart slow its frantic beat. The afternoon was quiet, with just a light wind stirring the leaves. A horse passed on the road below, hooves steady, saddle creaking under its rider’s weight. Two women went by on foot, lost in conversation. They barely glanced our way. A flock of starlings rose from the field across the way, spiraling upward with raucous cries. To my right, the ramparts of the bridge were screened by the hillside.

“What was that?” Only a small rise in tone betrayed Tobin’s worry. “I thought you’d been shot. Or had apoplexy.”

“I don’t know.” Although perhaps I did. “Half an hour’s walk further on is Lowbridge, and the Sisters’ hostel. Two hours’ ride on is the city. An hour’s ride between is the mansion.”

“You’re not… it’s not the wraith? Come after you again, after all this time?”

Now wasn’t that a pretty thought, sure to raise my heart rate drastically. But no. “It’s broad daylight, the mansion is miles away, and besides I felt it go. No, it’s just me.”

“You what?”

“Me, being afraid. I’d almost forgotten where we were headed, after all these days riding. Then I looked around and the bridge was there. I panicked.”

“You fell off your fecking horse!”

“Well, yes. It was a rather feeble sort of panic.”

“Don’t joke about it.” Tobin’s eyes were bright. “Your muscles were hard as rock and I don’t think you were breathing. For a moment I thought you were dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his face with his free hand. Darkwind lowered his head to nudge his master, and Tobin scratched the horse’s wide forehead absently. “Are you better? Breathing okay?”

“Seems like it.”

“Do you think it will happen again?”

“How would I know?”

“Guess,” he growled.

I rolled my head, flexed my shoulders. Nothing seized up. My vision stayed clear. “Not right away, at least.”

“So now what? We can make camp here for the night, if we must. I’d hoped to make it to the castle tonight though. His Majesty told me not to delay.”

“Well, clearly we must keep Faro happy.”

“Don’t be stupid. He’s the
king
. He won’t take kindly to that attitude.”

“He’ll take me as he finds me,” I grumped. “And lucky to have that.”

“Lyon. Please, don’t make him angry.”

“I thought you liked our
dear
king.” Maybe too much. I’d heard a lot in the last few days about what a good king Faro was. Faro had his queen of course, and two sons already. But a king had no choice in that, and a lover on the side was hardly unknown.

“Don’t be an ass.”

I looked over at him, startled.

He pushed Dark’s head out of the way and leaned toward me. “Sure, I like him. I think we could, and have, done far worse for a king. He’s a good man and a good ruler. He’s even a friend, or as close as a reigning monarch can be to one of his men. But in the last extremity, if it came down to him or you, I’d choose you.”

“You what?”

“You’re the best friend I ever had. Now you’re back from the dead. I’d do almost anything to keep you that way. However, if it’s not life or death…” He paused, then resumed more slowly. “If it’s just hard but not impossible, then the king has commanded you to his service and his word is law. Tell me how to make this work.”

“I don’t know.” I looked down at the road. “I was caught by surprise. I’m more prepared now. But, um, this road goes close to the mansion. It might be smart to take some less familiar route, even if it adds a bit of time.” I could feel my pulse race whenever I thought of the road I’d staggered along that day, with my arm a world of pain, and an old dead thing lingering in my mind.

“I know other routes. You think that will be enough?”

“I think we’d better try it and find out.”

We sat a while longer, looking down side by side.

“Soon?” he asked.

“Any time now.”

Another long pause.

“Need me to lead your horse, sonny?”

“Screw off, grandpa.”

Eventually I took Cricket’s reins from his hand, led the gelding down to the road, and mounted up.

Crossing the bridge turned out to be the hardest part. I actually rode up to it three times, and each time Cricket’s hooves hitting the first boards sounded like a dying man’s heartbeat, hollow and slow. The third time I did have Tobin lead him, so I couldn’t turn back, while I clung to the saddle. My heart tried to climb into my throat, and my vision went a little grey. But once we were across it was like something in me gave up the fight.

Tobin turned off the road almost at once, leading us at a walk cross country, between farm fields. He went far enough that the bridge was out of sight and then stopped and came back beside me. “Still with me, lion-boy?”

“Mouse-boy,” I said hoarsely. I squeaked at him for good measure. “With you, albeit weak and trembling.” I showed him how my hand shook as I reached for the reins.

He raised his left hand toward my face and paused, a whisper away from my cheek. I could feel the heat of his palm across that gap, smell sweat and horse and leather. “I have
never
thought of you as weak.”

He lowered his hand, gave me my reins and we went on, riding side by side.

****

I’d never actually been inside the palace. Although my father was a minor noble, he died when I was small. My mother had hung around on the fringes of the court, but never snared another husband. And once I apprenticed with Meldov, I was on the lowest rung of a new society. Only a few sorcerers ever crossed the king’s threshold. Monarchs tended to be wary of powers they didn’t understand and couldn’t control by force, and Meldov had claimed the King’s Mages were jealous of their position, as an excuse why he’d never been inside.

Tobin got us through the outer gates, and then the inner, by showing his cocksucker badge. I giggled each time. I was a little punchy by then, with lack of sleep and stress and a fluttering heart-rate that would have put a sparrow’s to shame. Tobin glanced over at me, but said nothing, just moved Dark a little closer to Cricket. Close enough to grab the reins maybe, if I turned to bolt. Once we were through the inner gates, he turned left along the wall and stopped, holding out his hand. “I’ll take your horse now.”

“I’m not going to try to ride away.”

He sighed. “You’re also not going to ride Cricket through a bath and into the throne room. Get down and I’ll find a groom to take them. Stay here. It won’t take me long.”

“Oh.”

I thought about just sitting there in the saddle for a bit longer. Getting used to the place. Actually letting my feet hit the cobbles seemed like a decisive move. But Tobin had that look of compassionate patience on his face and it irked me. I swung off Cricket and handed over the reins.

“Stay here. Don’t move.” He eyed me for a moment, as if gauging my compliance. Then he rode off, towing Cricket behind Dark, the horses’ hooves clattering on the cobbles.

I put my back to the stone wall, and tried to take comfort from its solidity and bulk. The courtyard was a busy place. I got a few curious looks and after a couple of minutes a tall man in the tunic of the Household Guard came up to me. “Can I help you, sir?”

“I’m waiting for Tobin.” I cleared my throat to firm up my voice. “He said he’d be right back.”

“Tobin?”

“He’s, um, a King’s Voice? He used to be in the cavalry?”

“
Captain
Tobin?”

“You know him?”

“Of course. I’ll wait with you, sir.”

I wanted to tell him to screw off, and leave me to my solitary patch of wall, but I didn’t dare. I slid a little further away from him and set my teeth and waited.

Ten minutes later, a boy in a page’s tunic came running up. “Excuse me sir, but are you Mister Lyon?”

“Yes.”

“Captain Tobin sent me, sir. He said to tell you,” —he page drew himself up to his full, if rather puny, height and tried to deepen his voice— “he’s been called to attend the king, but he will try to be quick. In the meantime, your bags have been taken to the room and your bath water is being drawn as I speak. He said to tell you you have first chance at the bath. Sir.” He smiled with pride at his smooth delivery.

And I wanted to scream. So much for putting me ahead of Faro. The king crooked his little finger and Tobin went running, leaving me here in a strange place, surrounded by a crowd of people. My logical side tried to remind me that, for most men, an invitation to go inside and take a bath after a long trip wouldn’t be a cause for panic. But I was no longer
most men
, and panic was very near.

As I hesitated, the page reached into his pouch and held something out. “He bade me give you this as a token. And to say twice, he’ll not be long. And I’m to show you the way.”

Hesitantly I took the small hilt from the boy’s fingers. It was my own knife. It wasn’t much use as a defensive weapon, so he meant it as a sign. That he trusted me? That I could control myself? He clearly had more faith than I did. I had nowhere to sheathe it, but it was a comfort in my hand. “Lead on,” I said.

After the third turn, I couldn’t have found my way out in a fire. I was distracted by the tapestries and stained glass windows, the slate floors inlaid with marble, and the carved, vaulted ceilings even in the corridors. I followed the boy in blind trust, up stairs and down halls, the knife in my hand. Eventually we fetched up at a door, one in a row of similar maplewood slabs set along a look-alike corridor. The boy swung the door open. Inside was a modest room, with tall mullioned windows, now showing a rapidly-darkening sky. There was one large bed with a fur rug on the floor beside it, a wardrobe and a few free-standing shelves. In the center of the room sat a large, glorious metal bath filled with water that steamed gently in the light of a single lamp.

The boy motioned me inside, and pretended not to notice as I squeezed past as far from him as I could manage. My bags and Tobin’s were set at the foot of the bed.

“Shall I send someone to help you with your bath?”

“Hells, no!” I took a breath, and backed up a step further into the room. “Thank you. This is fine. Will Tobin, Captain Tobin, find me here, do you think?”

“These are his rooms, whenever he’s here,” the boy said cheerfully. “Enjoy your bath, sir.”

After he’d given me a sketchy bow, indicating uncertainty about my rank, and left, I closed and barred the door.
Tobin’s own rooms.
It was logical that he’d want to keep an eye on me, and truthfully I didn’t want to be alone here. After four nights on the road, I trusted him not to be disgusted or dismayed by my displays. Or at least never to show it. But I did wonder what that boy had thought. There was only one bed in here. Did he know Tobin was fay? Could he tell that I was? Would they all be thinking that I was Tobin’s lover?

Surely not. He’d been sent to find me for the king, after all. And sharing a bed was not unknown, when space was tight.

The temptation to explore his rooms was strong. But I allowed myself just a look through the archway. There was a second room attached, with similar large windows and a table and chairs set in front of them. There was a rack of maps, rolled in metal map-cases, and several books on a shelf. I couldn’t resist the lure of checking the titles. It was a very mixed collection;
The Military Genius of Colonel Lennard
sat cheek-by-jowl with
Tales of the Wood.
I caught my hand back before opening that to see if it was the rare first edition.

Bath. I was supposed to have a bath.
Not that the idea was any hardship. I tried to remember how long it had been since I’d had a real, deep, hot bath. I came up with a number I didn’t want to think about. I had a bathtub in my garderobe back home, but I was mostly too lazy to fill it full and then have to empty it. I’d typically settled for just enough water to get clean in. That tub in the other room was the height of luxury.
Meldov loved luxury.