Hidden Warrior

  “Not the king! Even if he wanted me killed, he wouldn’t sacrifice Ero.”

  “Then it would have to be someone with him tonight. Perhaps it wasn’t Erius’ idea to send you.”

  Tobin thought back. “Not Hylus!”

  “No, I’d never believe that.”

  “That leaves General Rheynaris and Lord Niryn.”

  “And Prince Korin.”

  “No! Korin wouldn’t do that. It had to be Niryn.”

  “It doesn’t matter now. We’ve still got a long way to go and horses to find.”

  Ki and Lynx had made Eyoli as comfortable as they could in a nest of cloaks under an oak just inside the copse.

  “I’ll send someone for you,” Tobin promised.

  Eyoli freed one hand from his wrapping to touch his brow and breast. “Go, my prince. Save your city.”

  Just beyond the copse they came to a large steading. A low stone wall surrounded it and the gate hung open on its hinges.

  “Careful, boys,” Tharin murmured.

  But the place had been abandoned. The barn doors were open, and the corrals empty.

  “Bilairy’s balls!” Ki panted, coming back from the barns empty-handed. “They must have driven the stock off rather than leave it for the enemy.”

  Tharin sighed. “Nothing to do but keep going.”

  They’d just reached the gate when they heard a strong, rushing wind.

  Tobin looked around in surprise. The night was still, with hardly a breath of breeze.

  The sound grew louder, then ended abruptly as a large, dark mass appeared out of thin air not ten feet from where they stood, tumbling and bouncing until it fetched up against a watering trough.

  Tobin started toward it but Tharin held him back. Ki and Lynx advanced cautiously, swords drawn.

  “I think it’s a man!” Lynx called back.

  “It is, and he’s alive,” said Ki.

  “A wizard?” said Tobin.

  “Or something worse,” Tharin muttered, stepping in front of him.

  The strange traveler rose slowly to his knees, holding up both hands to show that he was unarmed. Ki let out a yelp of surprise. “Tobin, it’s Arkoniel!”

  “By the Four, is it raining wizards today?” Tharin growled.

  Tobin ran to help Arkoniel up. Instead of his usual hooded cloak, the wizard wore a shepherd’s long fleece vest and a felt hat jammed down on his head and tied in place with a scarf. Leather gauntlets covered his arms almost to the elbow. He was breathless and shaking like a man with fever.

  “How did you get here?” asked Tobin.

  Arkoniel clutched Tobin’s shoulder, still unsteady on his feet. “A spell I’ve been working on. Not quite perfected yet, but I seem to have arrived with all my arms and legs.”

  “Were you expecting bad weather?” Ki asked, eyeing the absurd hat.

  “No, just a bad journey. As I said, the spell isn’t quite right yet. I’m never sure if I’ll arrive in one piece or not.” Arkoniel pulled off the left gauntlet and showed them his splinted wrist. “Same one I broke that day I arrived at the keep, remember?” He pulled off the right glove with his teeth and undid the scarf holding his hat.

  “How did you find us?” Tharin asked.

  “You can thank Iya and Eyoli for that. They got word to me. Tobin, I believe you’ll be needing this.” Pulling off his hat, Arkoniel shook out Tobin’s old rag doll. “Don’t let go of it again.”

  Tobin stuffed it inside his studded coat as Lynx stared. “Can you walk?”

  Arkoniel straightened his disordered clothing. “Yes, it’s just a bit disorienting, traveling like that twice in one night. Can’t say that I recommend it.” He looked around. “No horses?”

  “No,” said Tharin. “I don’t suppose you have a spell for that?”

  Arkoniel gave him a wink. Taking out his crystal wand, he drew a figure in red light, then stuck two fingers in his mouth and let out a piercing whistle. “There, they’ll be along.”

  Ki and Lynx went to the barn again. By the time they returned with the saddles, they could hear the sound of hooves on the road, approaching at a gallop. A few minutes later ten horses thundered into the yard and came to a stop around Arkoniel, nosing at his belt and tunic.

  “You’ve become quite a useful fellow since I last saw you.” Tharin laughed.

  “Thank you. It’s been an instructive few years.”

  Arkoniel drew Tobin aside as the others saddled the horses. “I suppose you know what all this signifies?”

  Tobin nodded.

  “Good. I think it might be best if your friends understood.”

  “Tharin already knows.”

  “You told him?”

  “No, Lhel did.”

  Arkoniel grasped Tobin’s shoulder with his good hand. “You’ve seen her! Where is she?”

  “I didn’t see her. She came to Tharin in some kind of vision.”

  Arkoniel sagged and Tobin saw the deep disappointment in his eyes. “She left us at Sakor-tide. I looked for her when I went back to the keep for the doll, but there was no sign of her anywhere.”

  “You mean it wasn’t Lhel who got the doll back from my mother?”

  “No. I found it in the tower. Someone had been up there before me. One of the tables had been righted, and a dozen or so of your mother’s dolls were lined up there. You remember them? Boys with no mouths? Yours was with them. It was as if someone knew I was coming for it.”

  “Maybe Nari?”

  The tower door is still locked and I threw the key in the river years ago. It could have been Lhel, but—Well, I think maybe your mother knew that you needed it back.”

  Tobin shook his head. “Or that Brother needed it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She always loved him, not me.” He clutched at the lump the doll made inside his coat. “She made this to keep him with her. She carried it everywhere, so he’d be there. She loved him.”

  “No, Tobin. Lhel told her to make the doll. It was the only way to control Brother after—after he died. Lhel helped her, and set the magic on it to hold him. It may have given your mother some comfort but it wasn’t love.”

  “You weren’t there! You didn’t see how she was. It was always him. She never wanted me.”

  A look of genuine pain crossed Arkoniel’s face. “Oh, Tobin. It wasn’t your fault or hers, how things were.”

  “Whose, then? Why did she treat me like that, just because he was stillborn?”

  Arkoniel started to speak, then turned away. Tobin caught him by the sleeve. “What is it?”

  “Nothing. It’s all in the past. Right now you must get to Atyion. It would be safest to reveal yourself there.”

  “But how? Lhel’s not here to undo the binding.”

  “She taught me. It’s actually quite simple. Cut the cord she made of your hair that’s around the doll’s neck, take Brother’s bones out of it, then cut out the piece of bone she sewed into your skin.”

  “That’s all?” Tobin exclaimed softly. “But I could have done that anytime!”

  “Yes, and if you’d known, you might have too soon and brought us all to ruin.”

  “I wouldn’t have! I never wanted to. I don’t want to now.” Tobin hugged himself unhappily. “I’m scared, Arkoniel. What if—” He looked back at Ki and the others. “What will they do?”

  “We should be moving on,” Tharin called.

  “A moment, please,” Arkoniel told him. “It’s time you told Ki. It’s only fair, and you need him steady at your side.”

  “Now?”

  “I’ll do it, if you like.”

  “No, he should hear it from me. And Lynx?”

  “Yes, tell them both.”

  Tobin started slowly back to Ki. He’d been tempted a hundred times over to just blurt it all out, but now fear choked him.

  What if Ki hated him? And what about Korin and the other Companions? What if the people of Atyion refused to believe, refused to follow him?

  “C
ourage, Tobin,” Arkoniel whispered. “Trust Illior’s will. For Skala!”

  “For Skala,” Tobin mumbled.

  “What’s wrong?” Ki asked before Tobin had said a word. “Is there bad news?”

  “There’s something I have to say, and I don’t know how, except to just say it.”

  Tobin took a deep breath, feeling like he was on that cliff in his dreams, about to fall. “I’m not what you think. When you look at me, it’s not me you’re seeing. It’s Brother.”

  “Who?” asked Lynx, looking at Tobin as if he’d lost his mind. “Tobin, you don’t have a brother.”

  “Yes, I do. Or I did. He’s the demon you’ve heard about, only he’s really just a ghost. It wasn’t a girl child who died; it was him. I was the girl, and a witch changed me to look like him right after I was born.”

  “Lhel?” Ki’s voice was barely a whisper.

  Tobin nodded, trying to read his friend’s expression in the starlight. He couldn’t and that scared him even more.

  “You all know the rumors about the king,” said Arkoniel. “That he kills all female heirs to protect his own claim and line. They’re not just rumors. It’s the truth. The Oracle at Afra warned my mistress, and told her that we must protect Tobin until she’s old enough to rule. This is how we did it.”

  “No!” Ki gasped. He backed away. “No, I don’t believe it. I know you! I’ve seen you! You’re no more a girl than I am!”

  I didn’t know either, not at first! Tobin wanted to tell him, but his mouth wouldn’t form the words because Ki was still moving away from him.

  “I was there that night, Ki,” Arkoniel told him. “I’ve devoted my whole life to keeping the secret until now. None of us had any choice, especially not Tobin. But now it’s time for her true form to be revealed. Skala must have a queen, one of the true line.”

  “Queen?” Ki turned and ran for the barn.

  “I’ll speak with him,” said Tharin. “Please, Tobin, let me do this. For both your sakes.”

  Tobin nodded, miserable, and Tharin strode away after Ki.

  Lynx came closer, looking into Tobin’s face. “This is really true? I mean—I’ve seen you, too, in the baths and swimming.”

  Tobin shrugged.

  “Tobin didn’t know about any of this either, until a few years ago,” Arkoniel explained. “It won’t be easy, what’s to come. It means going against Erius and Korin, too. Tobin will need true friends.”

  “You’ll be queen?” Lynx said, as if he hadn’t heard.

  “Somehow. But Lynx, you’re a Companion. You’ve known Korin longer than I have.” The words felt like sand in Tobin’s mouth. “If you can’t do this—I’ll understand.”

  “You’re free to go back to Ero now, if you wish,” said Arkoniel.

  “Go back? I never meant to go back. Tharin was right about me before, Tobin, so I might as well stay.” He let out a mirthless little laugh and held out his hand. “That’s not much of an oath, is it?”

  Tobin clasped hands with him. “It’s enough for me.”

  * * *

  Tharin found Ki standing just inside the barn door, arms limp at his sides. “Why didn’t he tell me?” he asked, voice leaden with grief.

  Tharin fought hard to rein in his anger. He’d expected better of Ki than this. “He had no idea when you first met him.”

  “When, then?”

  “That time he ran away to the keep. Iya and that witch woman made him swear not to tell. It’s a heavy burden he’s had to bear, Ki; one you and I can’t even imagine.”

  “You knew!”

  “Not until a few weeks ago. Rhius didn’t tell me, either, but it wasn’t because he didn’t trust me. It was for Tobin’s sake, and safety. It has nothing to do with us.”

  “What happens to me now?”

  “What do you mean? Are you telling me you’ll serve a prince but not a queen?”

  “Serve?” Ki whirled around to face him. “Tharin, he’s my best friend. He—he’s everything to me! We’ve grown up together, trained and fought together. Together! But queens don’t have squires, do they? They have ministers, generals, consorts. I’m none of that.” He threw up his hands. “I’m nothing! Just the grass knight son of a horse thief—”

  Tharin backhanded him so hard Ki staggered. “Is that all you’ve learned, after all these years?” he growled, standing over the cowering boy. “Do you think a wizard like Iya would choose you for no reason? Would Rhius bind you to his son if you were no more than that? Would I trust you with that child’s life? A man can’t choose his father, Ki, but he chooses his path. I thought you’d let go of all that foolishness.” It was an effort to not slap him again. “Is this what I taught you? To run off sniveling in the dark?”

  “No.” Ki’s voice quavered but he straightened to attention. Blood ran down from his nose and caught in the sparse hair on his lip. “I’m sorry, Tharin.”

  “Listen to me, Ki. Tobin doesn’t have the first notion of what’s ahead of him. All he can think of is that his friends will turn away from him. That you’ll turn away. He fears that more than anything else. And that’s precisely what you did just now, isn’t it?”

  Ki groaned aloud. “Bilairy’s balls! He thinks—? Oh, hell, Tharin, that’s not why I ran!”

  “Then I guess you’d better get back there and tell him that.” Tharin stepped aside and Ki bolted out, back to Tobin. Tharin stayed where he was, waiting for a sudden fit of trembling to pass. His hand stung where he’d hit Ki; he could feel the boy’s blood on his fingers. He stifled an anguished curse as he wiped his hand on his coat. Divine will or not, it was a hard road that had been set for all of them, all those years ago.

  Ki couldn’t have been gone for more than a few minutes, but it seemed like forever to Tobin before he came striding back from the barn alone. Walking straight up to Tobin, Ki hugged him hard, then knelt and offered his sword.

  “What are you doing, Ki? Get up! You’re bleeding—”

  Ki rose and grasped him by the shoulders. “I’m sorry for running off. You just took me by surprise, that’s all. Nothing’s changed between us.” He hesitated, chin trembling now as he searched Tobin’s face. “It hasn’t, has it?”

  Tobin’s voice was none too steady as he hugged Ki again. “You’re my best friend. Nothing can change that.”

  “That’s all right, then!” Ki let out a shaky laugh as he stepped back and clasped hands with him.

  Tobin caught the gleam of unshed tears in his eyes. “You won’t leave me, will you, Ki?”

  Ki tightened his grip and gave him a fierce smile. “Not while I’ve got breath in me!”

  Tobin believed him, and was so relieved he hardly knew what to say. “All right then,” he managed at last. “I guess we better move on.”

  Chapter 52

  As they rode on Tobin tried not to think about what lay ahead. Ki’s first reaction had scared him more than any battle could. He believed his friend’s staunch pledge, but more than once during that long ride he caught Ki stealing puzzled looks at him, as if he was trying to see the stranger under Tobin’s borrowed skin.

  I don’t want to change! he thought miserably. Looking off to the distant mountains looming black against the stars, he wondered what it would be like to just ride away from everything—from the battle, the city, his friends, his fate.

  But it was only a fleeting thought. He was a Skalan warrior and a prince of the blood. Scared as he was, he would never shame himself, or betray those he loved.

  His name and signet got them fresh horses along the road, and they spread word of the invasion at every stop. By dawn they were in sight of the sea again, and reached Atyion an hour past noon.

  Reining in at the town gate, Tharin called up to the guards on the wall, “Open in the name of Prince Tobin, lord of Atyion. The prince has returned!”

  “Ero is under siege by Plenimar,” Tobin told the startled sentries as soon as they were inside. “Spread the word. Every warrior must prepare to march back with me. No, w
ait!” he called as the man was about to run off. “The women, too; any who wish to fight for Skala are welcome under the banner of Atyion. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, my prince!”

  “Tell everyone to assemble in the castle yard.”

  “Well done, Tobin!” Arkoniel murmured.

  They raced on through the town, only to find the drawbridge still raised beyond the castle moat. Tharin cupped his hands around his mouth and hailed the guard, but there was no answer.

  Ki shaded his eyes and squinted up at the men on the wall. “Those are Solari’s men.”

  “Open in the name of the prince!” Tharin shouted again.

  Presently a man leaned over the battlement by the gate head. “I have Duke Solari’s orders not to admit anyone from Ero, on account of the pox.”

  “Son of a whore!” Ki gasped.

  “Open at once for the prince or be hanged for a traitor!” Tharin bellowed back in a voice Tobin had never heard him use before.

  Arkoniel was calmer. “These are serious matters, fellow. Fetch your master to the walls at once.”

  “Solari can’t do this!” Ki exclaimed hotly as they sat waiting. “This is Tobin’s land, whether he’s of age or not.”

  “The man who commands the castle commands Atyion,” Tharin muttered, glaring across the moat.

  “Brother was right,” Tobin told Arkoniel. “He told me a long time ago that Solari wanted Atyion for himself.”

  The sun sank another hour in its course as they fretted outside the gates. A crowd of armed townspeople gathered at their backs while they waited. Word of the situation had spread. Tharin found several sergeants among them and ordered runners sent to the outlying steadings to raise the knights. Arkoniel sent others for the town priests.

  Two women emerged from the crowd and bowed deeply to Tobin. One was clad in old-fashioned armor. The other wore the white robes and silver mask of the Illioran temple.

  Even with the mask, Tobin recognized her and bowed. “Honored One, Lady Kaliya.”

  The priestess bowed, and displayed the many-colored dragons on her palms. “I’ve long dreamed of your coming, though I did not expect you so soon. Atyion will not forsake the rightful heir.”

  Tobin dismounted and kissed her hand. “I won’t forsake Atyion. Did you know?”