The Bone Doll's Twin

  Tobin’s approach attracted their notice, however. A black-haired youth sitting at the center of the table suddenly vaulted over and strode across to meet him. He was a stocky lad of about fifteen, with short, curling black hair and smiling dark eyes. His scarlet tunic was embroidered with gold; rubies glowed on the gold hilt of a dagger at his belt and in a small jewel dangling from one ear.

  Tobin and Ki copied the low bows the others made him, guessing that this was Prince Korin.

  The older boy studied them a moment, looking uncertainly from Tobin to Ki. “Cousin, is this you arrived at last?”

  Tobin straightened first, realizing his mistake. “Greetings, Prince Korin. I’m your cousin, Tobin.”

  Korin smiled and held out his hand. “They tell me I was at your naming, but I don’t remember it. I’m glad to meet you properly at last.” He glanced down at the back of Ki’s bowed head. “And who’s this?”

  Tobin touched Ki’s arm and he stood up. Before he could answer, however, Lord Orun thrust himself into the conversation.

  “This is Prince Tobin’s squire, Your Highness, the son of one of Lord Jorvai’s minor knights. It seems Duke Rhius chose him without your father’s knowledge. I thought it best for you to explain—”

  Ki dropped to one knee before the prince, left hand on his sword hilt. “My name is Kirothius, son of Sir Larenth of Oakmount Stead, a warrior in your father’s service in Mycena, my prince.”

  “And my good friend,” Tobin added. “Everyone calls him Ki.”

  Tobin saw the hint of a smile tug at the prince’s mouth as he looked from Orun to Ki. “Welcome, Ki. Let’s find a place for you at the squire’s table. I’m sure you must be wanting your own bed after such a long ride, Lord Orun. Good night to you.”

  The chancellor did not look pleased, but he could not argue with the prince. With a last bow, he swept from the room.

  Korin watched the man go, then motioned for Tobin and Ki to follow him to the banquet table. Throwing an arm around Tobin’s shoulders, he asked softly, “What do you think of my father’s choice of guardian?”

  Tobin gave a cautious shrug. “He’s discourteous.”

  Korin smelled strongly of wine and Tobin wondered if he was a little drunk. But his eyes were clear and shrewd enough as he warned, “Yes, but he’s also powerful. Be careful.”

  Following just behind, Ki ducked his head nervously and asked, “Excuse me for speaking out of turn, my prince, but am I right in thinking that the king chose someone else to be Tob—Prince Tobin’s squire?”

  Korin nodded and Tobin’s heart sank. “Since you’ve grown up so far from court, Father felt it would be best for you to have someone knowledgeable of the ways here. He left the choice to Lord Orun, who chose Sir Moriel, third son of Lady Yria. See that fellow at the lower table with the white eyebrows and a nose like a woodpecker’s beak? That’s him.”

  They’d reached the balcony and Tobin could see the squire’s table to the right of the long feast table. Korin’s description was an apt one. Moriel was already striding over to present himself. He was about Ki’s age and height, with a plain face and white-blond hair.

  Tobin started to object but Korin forestalled him with a smile. “I see the way things are.” He gave Tobin a wink and whispered, “Just between us, I’ve always considered Moriel a bit of a toad. We’ll manage something.”

  Moriel distinguished himself immediately by bowing deeply to Ki. “Prince Tobin, your servant and squire—”

  “No, that is his squire.” Korin hauled Moriel up by the arm and pointed him at Tobin. “This is Prince Tobin. And since you can’t distinguish between a squire and a prince, we’d best leave the job to someone who can.”

  Moriel’s pale face went pink. Those at the table close enough to hear the exchange burst out laughing. Moriel redirected his bow awkwardly to Tobin. “My apologies, Prince Tobin, I—That is, I couldn’t tell—”

  The others were staring at them now, nobles and servants alike. Tobin smiled at the mortified youth. “That’s all right, Sir Moriel. My squire and I are equally dusty.”

  This earned him another laugh from the others, but Moriel only colored more deeply.

  “My Companions and friends,” said Korin. “I present to you my beloved cousin, Prince Tobin of Ero, who’s come to join us at last.” Everyone rose and bowed. “And his squire, Sir Ki of—”

  “Now, I think you know better than that, my lord,” a deep voice rumbled behind them. A heavy-set man with a long grey mane of hair stepped onto the balcony and gave Prince Korin a wry look. His short plain robe and wide belt were not the clothes of a noble, but every boy except Korin bowed to him.

  “Your father charged Lord Orun with the choice of a squire for Prince Tobin, I believe,” he said.

  “But as you see, Master Porion, Tobin already has a squire, and one bonded to him by his father,” Korin told him.

  This was the royal arms master Tharin had spoken so well of. Korin may not have bowed to him, Tobin noted, but he spoke to the man with a respect he hadn’t shown to Orun.

  “So I’ve heard. Lord Orun’s just been round to my rooms with word of him.” Porion sized up Ki. “Country bred, are you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I don’t suppose you’re familiar with court life, or the city?”

  “I know Ero. A bit.”

  Some of the Companions snickered at this and Moriel began to puff up again.

  Porion addressed both boys. “Tell me, what is the highest duty of a squire? Moriel?”

  The boy hesitated. “To serve his lord in any fashion required.”

  Porion nodded approvingly. “Ki, your answer?”

  Ki set his hand on his sword hilt. “To lay down his life for his lord, Arms Master. To be his warrior.”

  “Both worthy answers.” Porion pulled a golden badge of office from the neck of his robe and let it fall on his chest with a thump. Grasping it, he stood a moment in thought. “As Master of the Royal Companions, I have the right to judge this in the king’s absence. According to the ancient laws and customs, the bond contracted between the fathers of Prince Tobin and Squire—” He leaned over to Ki and whispered loudly, “What’s your name again, boy?—and his squire Kirothius, son of Larenth of Oakmount, is a sacred one before Sakor and must be recognized. Ki’s place in the Companions must stand until such time as the king says otherwise. Don’t take it hard, Moriel. No one knew when they chose you.”

  “May I withdraw, Your Highness?” Moriel asked.

  Korin nodded and the boy turned away. Tobin saw him cast a poisonous glance in Ki’s direction as he stalked from the chamber.

  “Have you a title, boy?” Porion asked Ki.

  “No, Swordmaster.”

  “No title!” Korin exclaimed. “Well, that won’t do for a prince of Skala, to be served so! Tanil, my sword.”

  One of the young men at the squire’s table hurried forward with a handsome blade. “Kneel and be knighted,” he ordered Ki.

  The other squires cheered and pounded the table with their footed drinking cups.

  Tobin was delighted but Ki hesitated, shooting him a strange, questioning look.

  Tobin nodded. “You’ll be a knight.”

  Ki bowed his head and knelt. Korin touched him on the shoulders and both cheeks with the flat of his blade. “Rise, Sir Ki—what was it? Kirothius, Knight of Ero, Companion of the Prince Royal. There. Done!” Korin tossed the sword back to his squire and the rest of the table pounded their cups.

  Ki rose and looked around uncertainly. “I’m a knight now?”

  “You are.” Porion clapped him on the shoulders. “Welcome your little brother, squires. Give him a full mazer and a good place among you.” This brought on another round of cup banging.

  With a last doubtful look over his shoulder at Tobin, Ki went to join the others.

  Korin brought Tobin to the long table and set him in a fine carved chair on his right. The feast was long over, the cloth covered with rinds, bones, and nutshell
s, but fresh trenchers and bowls had been set ready for him.

  “And now you must meet your new brothers,” Korin announced. “I won’t trouble you with everyone’s lineage tonight. This is Caliel.” Korin ruffled the hair of the handsome fair-skinned youth on his left. “This great red bear with the scruffy chin next to him is our old man, Zusthra. Then we have Alben, Orneus, Urmanis, Quirion, Nikides, and little Lutha, the baby until your arrival.”

  Each boy rose and clasped hands with Tobin, greeting him with varying degrees of interest and warmth. There was something odd in their handclasps. It took him a moment to realize that it was the smoothness of their palms.

  Lutha’s smile was the broadest. “Welcome, Prince Tobin. You make our number even again for drills.” He had a sharp face that put Tobin in mind of a mouse, and his brown eyes were friendly.

  The feast resumed. Korin was lord of the table and everyone deferred to him as if he were lord of the castle. With the exception of Zusthra, no one at the table looked to be any older than Korin, but all went on as if they ruled great estates of their own already, talking of horses, crops, and battles. They drank wine like men, too. Prince Korin’s mazer was always in his hand and a butler always at his shoulder. Master Porion had taken a place at the far end of the table and seemed to be watching the prince without looking at him too often.

  The rest in the company were the children of Skalan nobility and foreign dignitaries. The young men and boys wore elaborate tunics and jeweled daggers and rings. The dozen or so girls at the table wore gowns decorated with wide bands of embroidery, and strands of ribbon or jewels twisted into their hair under gauzy veils. Tobin couldn’t keep track of all the names and titles. He did sit forward and take note, however, when a dark-haired boy was introduced as an Aurënfaie from Gedre. Tobin had over looked him before, for he was dressed like the rest, and wore no sen’gai.

  “Gedre? You’re Aurënfaie?”

  “Yes. I’m Arengil ì Maren Ortheil Solun Gedre, son of the Gedre Khirnari. Welcome, Prince Tobin ì Rhius.”

  One of the older girls leaned in beside Tobin, resting an arm across the back of his chair. She had thick auburn hair and a mix of freckles and pimples across her sharp chin. Tobin struggled to recall her name. Aliya something, a duke’s daughter. Her green gown was embroidered with pearls and showed the first hint of a womanly form. “The ’faie love their long, fancy names,” she said with a smirk. “I’ll bet you a sester you can’t guess Ari’s age.”

  Everyone groaned, including Korin. “Aliya, let him be!”

  She pouted at him. “Oh, let him guess. He’s probably never even seen a ’faie before.”

  The Aurënfaie boy sighed and rested his chin on one hand. “Go on,” he offered.

  Tobin had seen a few ’faie, and learned a great deal more from his father and Arkoniel. This boy looked to be about Ki’s age. “Twenty-nine?” he guessed.

  Ari’s eyebrows flew up. “Twenty-five, but that’s closer than most get it.”

  Everyone laughed as Aliya slapped a coin down in front of Tobin’s trencher and flounced away.

  “Don’t mind her,” chuckled Korin, quite drunk now. “She’s gone sour ever since her brother went to Mycena.” He sighed and waved a hand around at the company. “So have we all. All the older boys are gone except for me and those unfortunate enough to be my Companions. We’d all be in the field now if there were a second heir to take my place. It would be different if my brothers and sisters had lived.” He took a long swig from his mazer, then scowled unhappily at Tobin over the rim. “Why, if my sisters had lived, Skala could have her queen back as the moon priests would have it, but all they have is me. So I have to stay wrapped in silk here, safely kept by to rule.” Korin slumped back in his chair, staring morosely into his cup. “An heir to spare, that’s what we’re lacking. A spare heir—”

  “We’ve all heard that one, Korin,” Caliel chided, nudging the prince. “Maybe we should tell him about the palace ghosts instead?”

  “Ghosts?” Korin brightened at this. “By the Four, we have buckets of them! Half of ’em are Grandmama Agnalain’s old consorts she poisoned or beheaded. Isn’t that so, squires?”

  The squires chorused their agreement and Tobin saw Ki’s eyes widen a bit.

  “And the old mad queen herself,” Zusthra added, scratching sagely at his thin, coppery beard. “She wanders the corridors at night in her armor. You can hear the drag of her bad leg as she goes up and down, looking for traitors. She’s been known to grab up grown men and carry them to the torture chambers beneath the Palace, where she locks them up in her rusty old cages to starve.”

  “What of that ghost of yours, cousin—” Korin began, but Porion cleared his throat.

  “Your Highness, Prince Tobin has had a weary journey today. You shouldn’t keep him so late, his first night here.”

  Korin leaned close to Tobin. His breath was sour with wine and his words were slurred. “Poor coz! Would you? Would you like to find your bed? You’re in my dead brother’s room, you know. There might be ghosts, there, too, but you shouldn’t mind that. Elarin was a sweet lad—”

  Porion was behind Korin’s chair now, slipping a hand under his arm. “My prince,” he murmured.

  Korin glanced up at him, then turned back to Tobin with a charming smile that made him look almost sober. “Sleep well, then.”

  Tobin rose and took his leave, glad to escape this crowd of drunken strangers.

  The stiff-backed servant appeared with Ki on his heels and conducted them back to their room. Porion walked with them as far as their door.

  “You mustn’t judge the prince by what you saw tonight, Prince Tobin,” he said sadly. “He’s a good lad and a great warrior. That’s the problem, you see. It weighs heavily on him, not being allowed to go to war now that he’s of age. As he said, it’s a hard thing being the sole heir to the throne when his father will declare no second. Such feasts as these—” He cast a disgusted look back toward the hall. “It’s his father’s absence. Well, when he’s fresh tomorrow he’ll make you a better welcome. You’re to be presented to Lord Chancellor Hylus at the audience chamber in the morning. Come out to the training grounds after that so I can have a look at your skills and equipage. I understand you have no proper armor.”

  “No.”

  “I’ll see to that. Rest well, my prince, and welcome. I’d like to say, too, that I remember your father as a fine man and a great warrior. I mourn your loss.”

  “Thank you, Arms Master,” said Tobin. “And thank you for keeping Ki as my squire.”

  Porion gave him a wink. “An old friend of yours had a word with me, just after you arrived.”

  Tobin gave him a blank look, then laughed. “Tharin?”

  Porion held a finger to his lips, but nodded. “I don’t know what Orun was thinking. A father’s choice of squire can’t be put aside like that.”

  “Then it wasn’t my answer?” asked Ki, a little crestfallen.

  “You were both right,” Porion replied. “And you might try to smooth Moriel’s feathers if you get the chance. He knows the Palatine and the city. Good night, boys, and welcome.”

  Servants had lit a dozen lamps around the room and carried in a copper tub full of hot scented water. A young page stood by the bed and a young man stood ready with brushes and sheets, apparently waiting to bathe Tobin.

  He sent both servants away, then stripped off and slid into the bath with a happy groan. Hot baths had been a rare occurrence at the keep. He was nearly asleep with his nose just above the water’s surface when he heard Ki let out a cackle across the room.

  “No wonder Moriel had his nose out of joint,” he called, holding back the curtains of the wall bed. All the fine bedding was gone. “He must have had himself all moved in anticipation of your majesty’s arrival. All he’s left me is a bare straw tick. And, by the smell, he pissed on it as a parting remembrance, the little bastard!”

  Tobin sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees. It hadn’t occurred to
him that they’d sleep apart, much less in such a cavern of a room.

  “Sure is a big room,” Ki muttered, looking around.

  Tobin grinned, guessing his friend was having similar doubts. “Big bed, too. Plenty of room for two.”

  “I’d say so. I’ll go unpack Your Highness’ bags,” Ki said, chuckling.

  Tobin was about to settle back in the tub when he remembered the doll hidden in the bottom of the chest.

  “No!”

  Ki snorted. “It’s my duty, Tob. Let me do it.”

  “It can wait. The water will get cold if you don’t get in now. Come on, your turn.”

  Tobin splashed out of the tub and wrapped himself in one of the sheets.

  Ki eyed him suspiciously. “You’re as fussy as Nari all of a sudden. Then again—” He sniffed comically at his armpits. “I do stink.”

  As soon as Ki had taken his place in the tub Tobin hurried into the dressing room and flung open the chest.

  “I said I’d do that!” Ki hollered.

  “I need a shirt.” Tobin pulled on a clean one, then dug out the flour sack and looked around for a safe hiding place. A painted wardrobe and several chests stood against one wall. On the other side was a tall cupboard that reached almost to the ceiling. By opening the doors, he could use the shelves inside as a creaking, cracking ladder. There was just enough space at the top to hide the bag. That would do for now.

  Climbing back down, he had just time enough to shut the doors and brush the cobwebs off his shirt before Ki sauntered in wrapped in a sheet.

  “What are you doing in here, taking the roof off?”

  “Just exploring.”

  Ki eyed him again, then looked nervously over his shoulder. “Do you think there are really ghosts here?”

  Tobin walked back into the bedchamber. “If there are, then they’re my kin, like Brother. You’re not afraid of him anymore, are you?”

  Ki shrugged, then thrust his arms up and yawned until his jaws creaked, letting the sheet slide to the floor. “We better get some sleep. Once Master Porion gets a hold of us tomorrow, I’m betting he doesn’t let us stand still long enough to cast a shadow.”