The Bone Doll's Twin (59 page)

Brother squatted beside him.
There is no Pelis here.

Tobin looked around at the effigies. After taking count and looking carefully into their faces he saw that Brother was right. No effigy of King Pelis stood among the royal dead. Niryn was wrong; the lessons his father and Arkoniel had taught him were the truth. But why would the wizard be so insistent?

All the same, Niryn had given him the name of the queen Brother had chosen—the very one King Pelis had murdered.

Tobin went to stand in front of the second queen of Skala and placed his right hand on the stone sword she held. “Hello, Grandmother Tamír.”

T
he sun came out the next day and Porion ordered them back to outdoor practice.

Tobin hardly noticed the renewed ache in his side as they ran to the Temple, wondering instead how Ki had fared. His heart swelled with relief when Ki emerged, hungry but unbowed. Mago looked the worse for wear of the two, and Ki confided later that he’d stared at the other squire for hours in the dead of night without speaking, just to put the wind up Mago’s ass. Apparently it had worked.

The priests had put a salve on Ki’s stripes and he joined in at practice without complaint. He joked with his friends among the squires, ignored his enemies, and served at table that night. Tobin decided that everything was settled for the best until bedtime came and Ki pulled back the curtains on the alcove bed.

“You’re sleeping there again?”

Ki eased himself down on the edge of the narrow bed and laced his fingers together in his lap. Tobin could tell by the way Ki held himself that he was in more pain than he’d let on. “Baldus?”

The page rose up on his pallet. “Yes, Prince Tobin?”

“Go to the kitchens and see if the cook can make a sleeping draught for Sir Ki.”

Baldus scampered out. Tobin barred the door after him and went back to Ki. “What’s all this about?”

He shrugged. “I hear that most of the other squires do and—well—You know, people look at us strange enough as it is. I just thought that maybe we ought to do a few things the Ero way.”

“Korin likes how we do things our own way. He told me so. He was proud of you yesterday.”

“Was he? Well, Korin isn’t everybody. And I’m not a prince.”

“You’re angry with me.”

“With you? Never. But—”

For the first time since the trouble began, Ki’s brave front crumbled. Tobin saw past it to the tired, beaten-down country boy slumped before him, shoulders held awkwardly to ease the pain.

Tobin sat down beside him and inspected the back of Ki’s shirt. It was stained with spots of blood.

“You’re bleeding. That’ll stick by morning if you leave it. Here, you better let me help.”

He coaxed Ki out of the shirt and threw it aside on the bed. The ache in his side was worse tonight, but he ignored it. It was Ki who needed tending now, not him.

The welts had changed from red to purple and black, and the scabs pulled and bled when Ki moved. Tobin swallowed hard, thinking of all the times he’d kept Nari from taking a switch to Ki. Now he’d done this.

“I don’t like it here,” he said at last.

Ki nodded and a tear dripped off the end of his nose to land on the back of Tobin’s hand.

“I wish we could have just gone with Father. Or that the Companions could ride out tomorrow and go find the king. Mostly, I wish I was grown and had my lands, so I could make you a lord. I promise I will, Ki. No one is going to call you a grass knight again after that.”

Ki let out a hiccuping laugh and painfully lifted an arm around Tobin’s shoulders. “I don’t—”

A loud crash came from the direction of the dressing room, startling them both. Tobin jumped to his feet and Ki flinched back, grabbing for his discarded shirt.

Korin and half a dozen of the older Companions and squires came staggering in by way of the hidden panel.

“Cousin, we’ve come to issue an invitation!” Korin
cried, and Tobin guessed that he’d been drinking steadily since they’d parted after supper. Urmanis and Zusthra were flushed and grinning, too. Orneus had his arms around Lynx and was nuzzling his ear. Caliel looked a bit clearer but Korin’s squire, Tanil, was the only sober one. He gave Tobin a bow, looking embarrassed.

“We’re off to the city to play and we’ve come to invite you,” Korin went on, staggering into the middle of the room. “And more especially, the inestimable Ki. Get your clothes on, boy, and I’ll buy you a whore to take your mind off your back.”

Garol staggered sideways from the group and vomited loudly as the others berated him.

“Ah, Urmanis, looks like you two are next for the temple steps,” Korin said, shaking his head. “Your squire’s dishonored you all over my poor cousin’s floor. Now, what was I saying—? Oh, yes. Whores. You’re old enough, aren’t you, Ki? I’ve seen you eyeing the girls! By the Flame, you’re the best of this rotten lot. We’ll get drunk and kick that pimple Mago out of bed. Alben, too, the bugger!”

“No, Cousin. Ki’s tired.” Tobin stood between the prince and his friend, wondering what he was going to do if Korin decided to force them to go. This was the drunkest he’d seen Korin since the night they’d arrived.

Fortunately Tanil was his ally tonight. “They’re too young for your revels, your highness. Besides, Ki’s so sore a whore would be wasted on him. Let’s get ourselves out before Master Porion catches you and sends you back to bed.”

“Damnation, we don’t want that! Everyone be
quiet
, for hell’s sake!” Korin roared. “Come, coz. Give us a kiss for luck. You, too, imeshamable Kirothius. Good night! Good night!”

Korin wouldn’t be satisfied until everyone had kissed Tobin and Ki on both cheeks and been kissed for luck in return, but at last they stumbled out the way they’d come.

As soon as Tobin was sure they were gone he dragged the heaviest chair in the room into the dressing room and braced it against the panel, then called Brother and set him to watch.

He returned to the bedchamber to find Ki washing his face at the basin. He’d let Baldus and Molay in, and they were grumbling to each other as they cleared away Garol’s sour vomit.

“It’s never like this when the king’s at home,” Molay muttered. “When Korin was younger Porion could keep him in line, but now—! I’ll burn some incense to cut the stink. Baldus, go and fetch some spiced wine for the prince.”

“No, no wine,” Tobin said wearily.

When the servants had finished, Tobin sent them away for the night, then pulled Ki back to the large bed. “You saw what comes of doing things the Ero way. Go to sleep.”

With a sigh, Ki gave in and sprawled on his belly at the far edge of the bed.

Tobin lay back against the bolsters and tried to ignore the smell still noticeable through the roiling clouds of incense. “What was Ornews doing to poor Lynx?”

Ki snorted into his pillow. “What did you do yesterday while I was flattening my knees with Mago?”

Tobin thought back over the long grey day. “Nothing, really. But I met Niryn at the tombs last night.”

“Fox Beard? What did he want?”

“He said I’m the next heir after Korin until he gets an heir of his own.”

Ki turned to regard him thoughtfully. “I guess you are, at that. The way Korin was staggering tonight, you might just get your chance, too.”

“Don’t joke!” Tobin warned. “If the Harriers heard you even joking, I think maybe they’d come for you. Niryn scares me. Every time he’s near me I feel like he’s looking for something, like he thinks I’m hiding something.”

“He looks at everyone that way,” Ki mumbled, slipping fast toward sleep. “All those white wizards do. I wouldn’t dare get around any of them. But what have we got to worry about? No one is more loyal than we….” He trailed off into a soft snore.

Tobin lay awake for a long time, remembering the strange feeling he’d had around the wizard, and the secret enemies the man had spoken of. No traitor had better approach him; as little as he might care for the red-bearded wizard, he’d keep his promise to him if any man asked him to betray the rightful ruler of Skala.

T
hink it was worth it to them?” Ki whispered to Tobin as Korin and his revelers straggled up for the morning run the next day. Porion was watching them, too, looking like a thundercloud about to burst.

Garol’s purging hadn’t done him any good; he was as green as a leek and swaying on his feet. The others were less wobbly but very quiet. Only Korin, who’d seemed the drunkest, was his usual self. His morning greeting to Tobin was contrite, however.

“I don’t suppose you spared any kind thoughts for us after we left you?” he asked, giving Tobin a sheepish look.

“Did you have fun in the city, Your Highness?” asked Ki.

“We got as far as the gate this time before Porion caught us. We’re all to do a penance vigil after training, to cleanse the poisons from us, as he put it. There’s to be no wine at table for a month.” He sighed. “I don’t know why I do it. You will forgive me, won’t you, Tob?”

Tobin hadn’t been angry in the first place, and Korin’s pleading smile would have melted river ice on Sakor’s Day. “I’d rather you come in my front door, that’s all.”

Korin clapped him on the shoulder. “Then it’s peace between us? Good. Come on, let’s race these laggards to the temple!”

Tobin and Ki led the pack easily today, but Korin kept up with them, laughing all the way. Tobin knew Ki had his doubts about the prince, but he found himself liking the older boy almost as much for his faults as in spite of them. Even drunk he was never gross or cruel the way some of the others were, and it never seemed to affect
him afterward. Today he looked as fresh as if he’d spent the whole night sound asleep.

When they’d finished with the temple devotions Porion ran them straight to the archery lists. It was a clear, windless morning and Tobin was looking forward to besting Urmanis, with whom he had a running rivalry.

As he took his place at the mark and drew the first shaft to his ear, however, the belly pain that had plagued him over the past several days took him again, this time with a sharp, sudden stitch that made him catch his breath and release without aiming. The arrow flew wild over a knot of girls watching nearby. They scattered like startled birds.

“Tobin, have you got your eyes open?” shouted Porion, still in a foul humor.

Tobin mumbled an apology. The pain passed, but left him tense and awkward.

“What’s the matter, Prince Wildcat?” Urmanis chuckled, stepping up for his shot. “Snake crawl over your shadow?” His arrow sped true to the center of the bull.

Tobin ignored the jibe and nocked another shaft. Before he could draw the pain came again, gripping his bowels like hot claws. Tobin swallowed hard and made himself go on as if nothing was wrong, not wanting to show weakness before the other Companion. He took aim and released in one smooth motion, only to find Brother standing there in front of the bull as the shaft took flight.

The spirit hadn’t come without being summoned since that day at his mother’s house. The day he’d found her ring.

Brother was mouthing something but Tobin couldn’t make it out. Another cramp took him, worse than the last. It was all Tobin could do to stay on his feet until it passed.

“Tobin?” Urmanis wasn’t making fun anymore as he bent to look into Tobin’s face. “Master Porion, I think the prince is ill!”

Ki and Porion were at his side at once.

“It’s just a cramp,” he gasped. “I ran hard—”

Porion felt his brow. “No sign of fever, but you’re pale as milk. Were you sick in the night?”

Brother stood close enough to touch now. “No. It just took me now, since the run.”

“Well then, you’d better go back to your bed for a while. Ki, see that the prince gets to his bed, then report to me.”

B
rother stayed with Tobin all the way back to their chamber, watching him with unreadable black eyes.

Molay insisted on helping him into bed while little Baldus hovered just behind. Tobin let them pull off his jerkin and shoes, then curled into a tight ball as a new wave of pain struck.

Ki shooed the others back and climbed up beside him. Pressing the back of his hand to Tobin’s brow, he shook his head. “You’re not feverish, but you’re in a sweat. Baldus, go fetch Sir Tharin.”

Tobin could see Brother standing behind Ki now, shaking his head slowly. “No, just let me rest,” he gasped. “It’s probably that pudding we ate last night. I shouldn’t eat figs.” He gave Ki a rueful grin. “Just leave me with the pot, all right? Go back and tell them I’m all right. I don’t want that pack of drunkards gloating over me.”

“Is that all?” Ki let out a relieved laugh. “No wonder you ran out of there so fast. All right, then. I’ll carry your message and come right back.”

“No, stay and practice. I’ll be right soon. Porion has enough people to be angry at today.”

Ki squeezed his shoulder and then pulled the curtains around the bed.

Tobin listened to him go out. He lay very still, wondering at the strange sensations in his belly. The pain was not so sharp now, and seemed to come and go like waves that made him think of the tide on the beach. As the pain receded, he was aware of another, more unsettling sensation
in its wake. He got up and made certain there was no one in the chamber or dressing room. Then, with the curtain pulled tight all around, he undid his trousers and pulled them down to find a small wet stain where the two legs joined. He stared at it, puzzled. He was certain he hadn’t soiled himself.

Brother was with him again, staring.

“Go away,” Tobin whispered, his voice faint and shaky, but Brother stayed. “Blood my blood—”

He stopped, throat tight with fear as he gauged the position of that stain. Reaching down with shaking fingers, he felt under his privates, still so small and hairless compared to those of the other Companions. On the wrinkled underside of the sac, he felt a patch of sticky wetness on the skin. He stared at his fingertips in alarm; even in this light he could see that it was blood. He could hardly breathe for fear as he reached down again and felt desperately for some sore or wound.

The skin was unbroken. The blood was seeping through like dew.