The Oracle's Queen (53 page)

She hesitated, too, all too aware of the guards posted nearby.

Ki glanced their way and sighed. “Well, good night.”

L
ater, as Tamír lay alone in her great bed with Ringtail curled up and purring under her chin, she traced her lips with a finger, remembering their kisses only a few nights ago.

I'm queen. If I want to sleep with him, I can!
she told herself, but blushed at the thought. It had been easy when they were both so scared, so far from court. Maybe Ki even regretted it?

She shook off the thought, but a hint of doubt remained. Now that they were back among the others, he was acting as he always had.

And so am I. And this is no time to be thinking of love!
Nari's stern talk had given her other things to consider, too. That sort of love led to babies if you weren't careful. Nari had given her a jar of pessaries, just in case.

In case—

As much as she longed for Ki, the thought of actually coupling scared her more than she liked to admit. If she
used this body like that, it was the final admission that she was a girl—no, a woman—in every sense.

All the same, the bed felt too big and lonely, especially knowing that Ki was so close by. She fingered the healing cut on her chin. She didn't mind if it left a scar. Every time she saw it in the mirror, it would remind her of him, and what it had felt like, lying beside him in their old bed at the keep. She traced slowly down her throat to her chest, thinking of his fingers taking the same path.

As her fingers brushed the scar, however, it brought back what the witch had said. What had he meant? The wound was healed. It didn't hurt at all.

She hugged the cat closer, wishing his soft fur was Ki's hair or skin. For the first time in her life, she wondered what it would be like between the two of them if she was an ordinary girl, with no dark secrets or great fate, and neither of them had ever seen Ero at all.

“If wishes were meat, then beggars would eat,” she whispered into the darkness. She was what she was, and there was no changing that.

When she slept at last, however, it was not Ki she dreamed of, but battle. She saw that rocky place again, and Korin's red banner coming ever closer.

T
amír rose early the next morning, better rested than she'd expected. Having finally accepted the path she must take, she was eager to move. If this was the only way she could meet with Korin, then so be it.

With Una still gone, she had the luxury of dressing herself, with only a little help from Baldus. She put on the necklace and bracelet the Aurënfaie had given her, and was combing her hair when Ki knocked. Baldus let him in. She turned with the comb in her hand to find him staring at her. “What's wrong?”

“Umm—nothing,” he replied, going to the armor rack. “Do you want your cuirass?”

“Yes,” she replied, puzzled at his odd demeanor.

He helped her into the burnished breastplate and fastened the buckles on the side.

“There. Do I look like a warrior queen?” Tamír asked them, wrapping her sword belt around her hips.

“You do.”

There it was again, that strange look of uncertainty on Ki's face.

“Baldus, go and fetch the rest of the Companions and Lord Tharin. Tell them I'm ready for the audience.”

The page ran off to carry out her order.

“Did Lutha and the others sleep well?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“I don't suppose Caliel has changed his mind?”

“No. But Tanil is better than he has been. He slept with Cal last night and won't be parted from him. Caliel seems a little better, too.”

“Perhaps there's hope for them both.”

“I'm taking Lutha and Barieus to look for a swordsmith later. They're absolutely determined to ride with you.” Ki reached behind her to free a lock of hair trapped under the cuirass, then ran a thumb lightly across the cut on her chin. “You're a sight, but it's healing.”

They were standing very close, almost touching. On impulse, she touched the dragon bite on his cheek. “You, too.”

“It doesn't hurt anymore.” He kept his gaze on her chin, fingers just brushing her cheek. It sent a little shiver down her arms and Tamír caught her breath as the feelings that had awakened that night at the keep came flooding back—pleasure, and with it the confused sensation of having two bodies at once.

That didn't stop her from leaning closer and kissing Ki lightly on the mouth. He kissed her back very gently, cupping her cheek. Tamír slid her fingers into the warm, soft hair at the nape of his neck and her body went hot and cold at once. Emboldened, she put her arms around him but her cuirass knocked the wind out of him and made him laugh.

“Gently, Majesty! Your humble squire needs those ribs.”

“My liegeman, Lord Kirothieus,” she corrected with a chuckle, embracing him more gently, seeing her own wonder mirrored in the depths of his dark brown eyes. The ache between her legs grew stronger, and confusion began to give way to something else.

She was about to kiss him again but the sound of the door opening made them jump apart, blushing guiltily.

Nikides stood in the doorway, looking amused. “Tharin, Master Arkoniel, and the witch are here. Shall I send them in?”

“Of course.” Tamír brushed her hair back, feeling to see if her cheeks were hot.

Ki retreated to the armor rack, trying to hide his own embarrassment as he pretended to check her mail.

Nikides' grin widened as he took his leave. Arkoniel took no notice of their state as he hurried in with a large scroll tucked under his arm, with the others close behind.

Mahti was dressed like a minor noble. His hair was combed and pulled back in a bushy queue and the barbaric jewelry was gone. He'd left his horn behind, as well, Tamír noted, guessing this was Arkoniel's doing. Mahti did not seem to be very pleased about it. He was not smiling.

“Mahti has something to tell you,” said Arkoniel, looking rather excited.

“I have vision for you,” the witch told her. “I show you a way to west.”

“To that harbor, you mean? Remoni?” Tamír asked.

“You will be go west. My goddess says so.”

“And you saw this road in a vision?”

He shook his head. “I know road. But the Mother say I bring you there.” He looked even less happy now. “Is hidden way, forbid to those outside the people. This my help for you.”

Baffled, Tamír gave Arkoniel and Tharin a questioning look. “That's all very interesting, but right now I'm more concerned with—”

“Ah, but I think this may be of use.” Tharin took the scroll from Arkoniel and unrolled it on the bed. It was a map of northern Skala and the isthmus. “Korin will most likely come straight at you here by the coastal route. From what Lutha has said, he doesn't have enough ships to bring his whole army by sea. The route Mahti is talking about seems to go here, through the mountains.” He traced a finger just south and west of Colath. “That would bring you out here, near your harbor. From there you're within easy striking distance to either cut Korin off on the isthmus, or come at him from behind as he heads east.”

“It's a trail that the Retha'noi keep hidden with the same magic Lhel used to hide her camp,” Arkoniel
explained. “They have many villages along it, and won't welcome outsiders, but Mahti claims he can take you that way without harm.”

Tamír stared down at the map, heart beating a little faster. Was this what the Oracle had tried to show her? Is this what all her dreams of the place had been leading to?

“Yes, I see,” she said faintly. It felt like she'd been inhaling the Illiorans' smoke again.

“Are you all right?” Ki asked.

“Yes.” She took a deep breath, wondering what was wrong with her. “I attack from the west, perhaps even surprise him if he thinks I'm still here readying for a siege.”

She looked up at Mahti. “Why would you do this?”

“You will give word to make peace to the Retha'noi. You will not kill us again. We be free to leave mountains.”

“I'll gladly try, but I can't promise to change things overnight. Arkoniel, make him understand. I want to do what he asks, but it won't be easy, changing people's minds.”

“I told him that, but he's convinced you can help. A better understanding between our two peoples will work in your favor, too.”

“It will be hard to bring supplies through the mountains,” said Tharin. “This isn't a proper road.”

“The Gedre could meet us with supplies,” Arkoniel pointed out. “Their ships are swift. They could probably reach Remoni harbor by the time we do.”

“Contact them at once,” Tamír ordered. “And the Bôkthersans, too. Solun seemed eager to help.”

“Didn't he, though?” muttered Ki.

W
ord of her plan spread quickly. The audience chamber was packed by the time Tamír entered. Her generals and their captains stood closest to the dais, but there were
others, too—courtiers, common soldiers, townspeople—crowded in between the pillars, all talking excitedly.

She ascended the dais, and the Companions took their places behind her. Lutha and Barieus stood with them, pale but proud in their borrowed clothes.

Tamír drew her sword, feeling the momentous import of what she was about to do. “My lords, generals, and my good people, I come before you to formally declare that I, by the will of Illior, will march against Prince Korin to secure my throne and unite our divided land.”

“Three cheers for our good queen!” Lord Jorvai shouted, raising his sword in the air.

The cry was taken up, and the cheering went on until Illardi banged the floor with his staff of office and got their attention again.

“Thank you. Let the heralds carry word across Skala. All who fight with me are my friends and true Skalans.” She paused, then added, “And all who oppose me shall be called traitor and stripped of their lands. May Illior give us the strength to make our victory swift and the wisdom to be just. Lord Chancellor Illardi, I charge you now to oversee the levy of warriors and supplies. Steward Lytia, you will oversee the sutlers and baggage wagons. I mean to march before the week is out. All captains are to return to their companies and begin preparations at once.”

Leaving the court to its excitement, Tamír retired to the map room with her generals and Companions. Arkoniel was waiting there with Mahti and his principal wizards, Saruel, Malkanus, Vornus, and Lyan.

The Companions took their places around the table, but Jorvai and some of the other nobles paused, eyeing the hill witch uneasily.

“What's the meaning of this, Majesty?” he asked.

“This man is responsible for the safe return of my friends, and he is under my protection. I've been aided by his kind before, and have come to respect their magic. I charge you all to do the same.”

“With all due respect, Majesty, how do you know it's not some kind of trick?” Nyanis asked.

“I've read his heart,” Arkoniel replied. “Some of the queen's other wizards have, as well. He speaks the truth, and was guided to Queen Tamír's aid by visions, just as we were.”

“This man is a friend of the Crown,” Tamír said firmly. “You will accept my judgment in this. I hereby declare peace between Skala and the hill people, the Retha'noi. From this day forth no Skalan will offer them any violence, unless attacked. That is my will.”

There was some grumbling and wary looks, but everyone bowed in obedience.

“That's settled, then.” Tamír proceeded to her plan to outflank Korin, using Arkoniel's map and several others spread out on the great table.

“I have spoken with the Khirnari of Gedre,” Arkoniel told them. “He knows the harbor and will send supply ships and archers. He's also relayed word to Bôkthersa. With any luck, they'll be there to meet us.”

“That will be a fine trick, if Korin isn't already halfway to Atyion by the time we get through,” said Jorvai. “If he gets word that you've left here, he'll come for Atyion all the faster. The granaries and treasury would be fine plums for him if he could capture them, not to mention the castle itself. I daresay he's been stretched thin, holed up in Cirna all these months.”

“It's true he needs gold,” said Lutha.

“That's why I won't risk leaving Atyion undefended,” Tamír replied. “I'm going to keep two battalions of the Atyion garrison here as a holding force. If Korin does come this far, he'll have to fight his way through. That will slow him long enough for me to catch up.” Tamír ran a finger up the eastern coast. “The Atyion army can come at Korin from the south. I hope to draw him west instead, but he could divide and attack us on both coasts.” She paused, turning to Tharin. “Lord Tharin, I name you as marshal of
the eastern defenses. Arkoniel, choose among your wizards those who can best help him here.”

Tharin's eyes widened, and she knew he was on the verge of arguing with her. Only the presence of the others stopped him, which is why she'd made up her mind to broach the subject here rather than in private. She put a hand on his shoulder. “You're an Atyion man. The warriors know and respect you.”

“After Queen Tamír herself, there's no one else better respected among the ranks,” Jorvai agreed.

“You also know the nobles who hold land between here and Cirna better than anyone else among my generals,” Tamír added. “If you do march north, you might be able to raise more fighters as you go.”

“As you wish, Majesty,” Tharin said, though it was clear he was not at all happy.

“You're not breaking your oath to my father,” she said gently. “He wanted you to protect me. At the moment, this is the best way you can do that.”

“It's a risk, splitting your army. By all reports Korin outnumbers you nearly three to one,” Nyanis pointed out.

“I can move faster with a smaller force. Mahti's route will save us days.” She turned to the witch. “Can we take horses through there?”