The Oracle's Queen (27 page)

“A weak reed?”

“It's what my old dad used to say of a man who was too easily swayed. Korin may not be a bad sort at heart, but he's got no grit when it matters. We saw it in that first fight we had, against those bandits, and again at Ero. And he always let Alben and the others lead him into mischief, too. Now it's Niryn.”

“Hmm. Well, you also can't discount the fact that Korin really does believe he's the rightful king.”

“What else can I do?” Tamír asked, frustrated.

“Eyoli has volunteered to go north for you. I believe he can get inside the court and be your eyes and ears there. His magic is not strong enough to attract the notice of the Harriers but does allow him to move about freely.”

“Risking his life for me again?” Tamír noted. “I think he may be the bravest of all your wizards.”

“He is devoted to you and all you stand for. Shall I tell him to go?”

“Yes. If nothing else, perhaps he can tell us if Lutha and Barieus are still alive.”

When Arkoniel was gone, Ki sighed and shook his head. “If they are still with him, then it's by choice.”

He left the rest unsaid, but she knew what he was thinking. If their friends had made that choice, then there were two more people they both dreaded having to face in battle.

She turned to go, but Ki caught her by the arm and stepped close, looking at her closely. “You're pale these days, and thinner, too, and—” His other hand came up to
clasp her shoulder, as if he expected her to run away. “Well, you just look worn-out. You can't keep on like this.”

“Like what?” she asked, wondering if her fears about him showed after all.

He smiled and she felt a shiver run up her spine. She could feel the warmth of his hands through the sleeves of her gown. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek and smell the ripe pear he'd eaten during the assembly. Stunned, she wondered suddenly if his lips still tasted of the fruit?

“You haven't given yourself a moment to rest since Ero fell,” he replied, oblivious to her turmoil. “You've got to rest, Tamír. There's no battle to fight right now and those damn courtiers have no right to run you into the ground like this. We should take off and go hunting or fishing—anything to get away from all that.” He gestured in the direction of the hall. “Hell, I'm worried about you and so are the others.”

He sounded so much like his old self that it brought tears to her eyes. “There now, you see?” he murmured, and pulled her into an embrace.

And once again, Tamír felt torn in two—half of her still Tobin, glad for the gesture of a friend, the other—Tamír—caught up in emotions she didn't fully understand, except that she still wanted to taste Ki's lips.

She pulled back a little, heedless of the tear that escaped down her cheek and looked up into his eyes. Their lips were just inches apart, so close …

Like my dreams
, she thought. It would be so easy to just lean forward a little and kiss him.

Before she could, the sound of approaching footsteps made her start and pull back. A pair of young nobles passed by, making her a hasty bow as they caught sight of her behind the pillar.

She returned it with what dignity she could manage and when they were gone she saw that Ki was blushing furiously.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have— No, here. Look, I'm going to go fetch our horses and we're going for a ride. To hell with all this, at least until supper. Just us and the Companions, all right?”

She nodded and went to find the others, thinking glumly
Just like my dream, in every way
.

Y
awning through another dreary evening feast, Lutha was about to invite Caliel and some of the younger officers back to his room for a game of bakshi when there was a stir among the guards by the door. Porion rose from his place and went to see what was going on. He returned a few moments later with a herald, who'd just arrived.

The man was young, and notable both for his striking long blond braid and the bloody bandage wrapped around his left arm.

“I've never seen a wounded herald before,” said Barieus. Heralds were sacred.

The young man came forward and bowed gracefully to Korin. “Your Majesty, please forgive my tardy delivery of this message. I should have been here a week ago, but I was delayed on the road.”

“I see that you're hurt. Were you attacked?” asked Korin.

“Yes, Majesty. I met with some brigands on the road, but the message I carry remains safe.” He pressed a hand to his breast and bowed again. “It is a most important letter, and the person who sends it requires that I give it to you in private. If it please Your Majesty, may we withdraw?”

Lutha glanced over at Niryn, but the man appeared to be taking little notice.

Korin raised a questioning eyebrow, however. “Who is this message from?”

“That, too, I may only impart to you alone, Majesty.” Even a king could not order him to go against a vow he'd given to the one who'd entrusted him with the message.

Korin rose. “My lords, I'll bid you good night now. We'll speak more of strategy in the morning.”

Alben yawned and ran a hand back through his long hair, which he'd taken to wearing loose except for the braids. “Tell Korin I'm in my room if he needs me. Mago, go find us that brace of pretty little dairymaids I met this morning and ask them if they'd like to see our chamber. Good night, boys.” He gave the others a rakish wink; handsome Alben wasn't often refused.

“Would you boys like to join us for a last cup?” Niryn offered, knowing full well they wouldn't take him up on it.

“Thank you for the offer, my lord, but I've already made plans for the evening,” Caliel replied coolly, then caught Lutha's eye. “You do still want that game of bakshi, don't you, Rattie? I promise I'll let you try and win your money back.”

Rattie?
thought Lutha. It was an affectionate nickname from his early days with the Companions; as a child Lutha had been small, quick in a fight, and had borne an unfortunate resemblance to said rodent. But no one had called him that in years. He shrugged and replied, “You'll do better to try and hang on to your own.”

“Come on then. The stones are in my room.”

N
iryn waited until the other Companions were out of sight, then murmured, “Watch those two, Moriel.”

He made his way alone up to Korin's door, where he swiftly sketched a pair of spells on the air, weaving in the proper intents.

Korin opened the door to his knock and waved him inside impatiently. “Come along, won't you? I want you to hear this.”

The herald's mind had proven suitably malleable as well. He showed no hint of surprise or objection as Niryn stepped in and closed the door softly after him.

*  *  *

C
aliel's chamber was much like Lutha's: narrow, damp, and sparsely furnished. Caliel had not taken a new squire, even when Barieus offered to help him find somebody. Lutha understood his friend's hesitation. Who would you trust here? As far as Lutha knew, Cal hadn't had a woman to his bed since they'd been here, either, though Lutha and Barieus, like Alben, had found plenty of willing girls among the servants of the keep.

Barieus started for the small wine table against the wall, looking for cups. Before he could pour for them, however, Caliel said, “Barieus, would you lend me your lord for a little while?”

“Sure, Cal.” Barieus shot Lutha a curious look and went out.

“So, are we going to play?” Lutha asked.

Instead, Caliel held a finger to his lips and went to the narrow keyhole window.

“Rattie?” Lutha whispered. “You haven't called me that in—”

“I just wanted to get your attention. And I need a clever rat to climb out this window.”

Lutha blinked. It was a sheer drop on this side of the fortress.

“Not all the way out,” Caliel amended. “Come here. If I hold your feet, I think you can fit out the wide part.”

Caliel pushed a wooden stool under the window for Lutha to stand on. He stepped up and examined the window. The slit had a round cutout at the bottom for an archer to shoot through, just large enough for someone small and flexible to squeeze out.

“But why?” he asked, peering out at the very long drop below.

Caliel gave him an impatient look. “I want to hear what that messenger has to say, of course!”

“What? How drunk are you?” Lutha hissed. “It's a herald! It's Korin! It's—”

Caliel clapped a hand over Lutha's mouth and pushed
the shutter closed with his other hand. “Do you want him to hear you?”

Lutha pushed Caliel's hand away but shut his mouth.

“I know it's Korin!” Cal whispered. “That's why I want to know what's going on. This message might be from Tobin. At least I hope it is!” He pushed the shutter back again and gave Lutha an expectant look.

“If you drop me, I swear to Bilairy I'll haunt you.”

“Fair enough. Hurry now, before we miss it all.”

Caliel snuffed the lamp. Lutha stepped onto the stool and squeezed out the loophole. It was a snug fit even for him, but once his shoulders were through the rest of him fit easily. With Caliel's arms wrapped tightly around his thighs, he was able to push himself out from the wall and twist himself toward Korin's window.
I must look like a caterpillar on a branch
, he thought sourly, straining every muscle.

Korin's bedroom window was only a few feet away. Twisting himself to the side and grasping the edge of the stonework that framed the loophole there, he got close enough to hear what was going on inside, though the angle was wrong to see anything but a sliver of tapestry-covered wall. The breeze was in his favor. He could hear the voices clearly.

“—word from your cousin, the Princess Royal Tamír, of Ero and Atyion.”

“You are ill informed, Herald. There is no such person as this princess.”

Lutha stifled a grunt of surprise. That was Niryn's voice, not Korin's.

“Forgive me, Majesty,” the herald amended hastily, sounding frightened. “I am instructed to say that your cousin sends most loving regards. May I read the missive?”

“Go on.” That was Korin.

Lutha heard the rustle of parchment, then the clear, carrying voice of the herald in his official capacity.

“ ‘
To Prince Korin, Beloved Cousin and Brother. I know
you've had word of me, and what has happened. I know how hard it must be to believe, but it's true. I am a girl, but the same cousin you've always known. You only have to meet with me to have the proof. The high priest of Afra and most of Atyion witnessed the change and can vouch for me. I write to you now in my true form, as Tamír, daughter of Ariani and Rhius, the scion of Atyion. My seal bears witness.' ”

Lutha caught his breath. That certainly sounded like Tobin's manner of speech, and he claimed powerful witnesses.

“ ‘I'm sorry I had to lie to you and the others,' ”
the herald continued. “ ‘
I've only known for a few years myself, but it was hard all the same, keeping the secret from my friends. I never meant to betray you when I joined the Companions. I didn't know then, I swear by the Flame. I never brought harm to you or your father, though he did great harm to my mother and her kin, whether you want to believe it or not. My mother should have been queen, and me after her. It breaks my heart to write this to you, Kor, but your father brought a curse on the land, one it is my burden to lift and heal
.

“ ‘I mean you no harm, cousin. I never could. You were always kind to me. I have always loved you as a brother and I always will. Does it matter so much between us, who wears the crown? You are a rightful prince of Skala. I want you at my right hand, in my court and on the battlefield. Your children will be secure in their inheritance
.

“ ‘Please, parley with me. I want things to be right between us again.' ”

The herald paused. “If you'll forgive me, Majesty, it is signed as follows: ‘
Your loving cousin and sister, Princess Tamír, who was Tobin.' ”

“I see.” Something in Korin's voice caught at Lutha's heart. He sounded sad, not angry.

“Utter nonsense and subterfuge!” Niryn cut in sharply. “Majesty, you cannot possibly—”

Korin said something too softly for Lutha to catch.

“Majesty?”

“I said leave me! Both of you,” Korin shouted with such vehemence that if Caliel hadn't had still a secure grip on Lutha, he'd probably have fallen. Caliel dragged him back through the window.

Lutha collapsed in a trembling heap on the floor, heart hammering in his chest. Caliel closed the shutter and set the hasp.

“What is it? What did you hear?” he demanded softly.

“It was from Tobin. At least that's what the herald claims, and they can't lie, can they? Only he says he really is a girl and—”

“You're babbling. Slow down. Start from the beginning.”

So Lutha did, repeating as much of what he'd heard as he could remember.

“Niryn was in there?”

“I bet he put some spell on the herald and made him break his vow.”

“Korin, too. And you're right; that does sound like Tobin. And he offers proofs? Still, it could be a trick. Or a trap.”

“That's what Niryn said.”

“I don't like to agree with that bastard, but it makes more sense than the alternative.”

“Come on, Cal! Tobin would
never
betray us like that, or Ki either. Not of their own free will, anyway. I've been thinking and thinking on it. There are wizards at Tobin's court, too. I wonder if maybe one of them put some kind of spell on
them
, like Niryn is trying to do with Korin? There was that one old woman who came around. Tobin said she was attached to his family somehow.”