The Oracle's Queen

  “No dream. A prophecy fulfilled, or so they say.”

  “Then Skala has a queen again!” Nikides whispered. “If only Grandfather had lived to see it.” He fell silent a moment. “So, how is Tobin? Princess Tamír, I mean.”

  “She’s fine.”

  “She.” Nikides murmured, “It’s going to take some getting used to, isn’t it? Tell me, how did it happen?”

  Ki gave him a quick summary. “It was magic, but not like anything I’d ever heard of before. But I saw her myself, naked as the dawn, and it’s no trick. She’s Tamír now; Tamír Ariani Ghërilain.”

  “A good name.”

  Nikides was taking it very well, Ki thought sourly.

  “Amazing, isn’t it, that the queen the Illiorans have been whispering about all these years was hiding right in plain sight?”

  “Amazing, all right.” The bitterness in his voice left Nikides speechless for a moment.

  “And Ero?” he asked at last.

  “We drove the enemy out, but the city’s pretty near ruined.” Ki clasped his shoulder. “I’m sorry about your grandfather. I’m told he died defending the palace.”

  “Yes. I’ll miss him, but it was an honorable death.”

  “What can you tell me about Korin? Do you know where they went?”

  “They haven’t come back?”

  “No. What happened?”

  “The enemy had broken through our last defenses. They were everywhere, killing and burning. Master Porion and Captain Melnoth organized the retreat, with what soldiers they had left to cover their escape. I was unlucky, that’s all, and got cut off.”

  “And they just left you?”

  “You can’t blame Lutha, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He paused and Ki saw a look of pain in his eyes. “I saw him looking back at me, shouting something. He wanted to go back for me, but of course, he couldn’t. His duty was to Korin.”

  “I would have, Nik. So would Tamír.”

  Nikides shook his head. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to. Duty first, in all things. That’s what Master Porion would tell you, too.”

  Ki kept his arguments to himself for now. Nikides was still too ill to fully appreciate the situation. “Do you know where Korin was headed?”

  “No. Niryn just said to get him out of the city. We were trying for the west gate when I lost them.”

  “The wizard was giving the orders?”

  “Korin wouldn’t listen to anyone else by then, not even Cal.”

  The drysian who’d spoken with Ki earlier came back just then and put her ear to Nikides’ chest. She looked pleased with what she heard. “You’re a lucky fellow, my lord. A few days more and you should be on your feet again, though it will take time to fully heal. I’ll send someone over with broth. See that he eats, won’t you, Lord Kirothieus?”

  “I will.” Ki grinned at his friend. “Not that we ever had any trouble getting you to eat.”

  Nikides made a rude gesture, then looked over at Tanil again. He’d stirred when the drysian came, and appeared to be awake. “Hello, Tanil. I’m glad you’re here. Are you hungry?”

  Tanil shook his head and the blanket fell back from his face.

  “Bilairy’s balls!” Nikides gasped softly.

  The young squire’s face was still badly swollen and discolored from the beating, and his dark hair hung in lank strands around his shoulders. His braids had been cut off, too. Worst of all, though, was his vacant, frightened expression. He hunched in on himself, arms crossed tight across his chest. Livid bruises covered his bare shoulders, and his wrists were wrapped with bloodstained linen. He gave them a confused look, then hid his face against his knees.

  “Poor fellow,” Nikides whispered sadly.

  “And he was one of the lucky ones,” Ki replied softly, leaving it unsaid that his captors had been about to gut him when Tamír and her forces showed up. “The wounds in his wrists aren’t so bad. The healers say he’ll probably have the use of his hands again when they heal.”

  He spoke lightly, but he and Nikides exchanged a knowing look. Wounds to the body were nothing to a warrior, but to be so dishonored and left crippled? It would have been kinder if the bastards had killed him.

  The drysian woman returned with two bowls of strong-smelling broth. Nikides took a sip from his and wrinkled his nose. “Horse meat!”

  “Plenty of that about,” Ki said, moving slowly and carefully to sit by Tanil. He held out the bowl. “It stinks, but it’ll put strength back into you. Come on now, try a little. It’s me, see? Nobody’s going to hurt you. Nik’s here, too.”

  Tanil regarded them with empty eyes, then a hint of recognition seemed to dawn. He let Ki hold the bowl to his lips and managed a few sips before he gagged and turned his face away.

  Nikides gamely downed his portion and put the bowl aside with a grimace of distaste. “You haven’t said what happened to you, since you left Ero.”

  Ki quickly outlined the chaos of the past few days. “Tharin’s reorganized the remains of the old Alestun guard, along with Lynx and some of the warriors from Atyion, into a new guard for Tamír,” Ki said, all the while coaxing Tanil to drink more of the broth. “We’ve got Lord Jorvai, and Kyman of Ilear on our side already, and Illardi, and more who swore fealty after the battle. Not everyone is supporting Tamír, though.”

  “That’s to be expected,” Nikides said, looking thoughtful. “Well, you can count me in as another loyal man, for whatever it’s worth.”

  “Even over your Companion’s oath? She’ll send you back to Korin if that’s what you want.”

  “No. I won’t say it doesn’t hurt, but in my heart I know it’s the right thing. Erius broke with the prophecy, and where did that get us? If Illior has made Tobin into a queen, then who am I to argue? So, how can I help?”

  Ki clasped his friend’s hand and smiled. “Get your strength back and keep an eye on Tanil for me. Well, I better get back. Take care of yourself and do as the healers tell you.”

  Ki felt a bit better for seeing his friend awake, but returned to the house unsure of his welcome. He felt bad about how things had gone earlier and was anxious to put it right.

  Tamír was sitting on the bed reading a letter. She had on a long linen shirt under the dressing gown, and her damp hair hung loose over her shoulders. Baldus was curled up asleep on his pallet by the door.

  She looked up as he came in, and he could tell she was trying to gauge his mood, too.

  “I just saw Nik and Tanil.”

  “How are they?”

  “Nik’s mending. Tanil’s not doing so well. His spirit’s broken.”

  “I don’t wonder. I’ll go see him tomorrow.” She gestured casually at the tub. “I had more warm water brought in.” She paused, looking uneasy again. “I can go in the sitting room—”

  “Whatever you like,” Ki answered too quickly. Did she want to stay, or go? He was damned if he could tell. He had the feeling that no matter what he did, it would be wrong. When it came right down to it, though, she’d seen him naked so often that that didn’t make a bit of difference. All he wanted right now was hot water and a clean bed. “I don’t mind either way.”

  After all the earlier embarrassment, he’d expected her to leave. Instead, she shrugged and went back to the letter.

  Suit yourself, he thought, wondering at this new shift in the wind. He stripped and sank gratefully into the tub. It wasn’t very hot, but it was the cleanest water he’d seen in days. Settling back, he went to work with the soap and sponge.

  As he washed, he found himself glancing over at Tamír. She was still engrossed in that letter. He ducked his head, rinsing lather from his hair, and looked up to find her still staring down at the parchment. It was only a single sheet. It couldn’t be taking her that long to read it.

  “What’s that you’re looking at?” he asked.

  She glanced up with a guilty start and colored a little, as if he’d caught her staring. Damn, this was strange!

  “A letter from L
ady Myna of Tynford, offering fealty,” she told him.

  “Already? Word travels fast.”

  She tossed the letter aside and stretched out on her stomach, chin propped on one hand. “I can’t stop thinking about Korin. A retreat’s one thing, but for him to just run off like that and leave the city open to the enemy? That doesn’t seem right.”

  “I’m sure he had his reasons at the time.” Cowardice, most likely, he thought, scrubbing at a bloodstain on his left knee.

  Tamír stared off at nothing for a moment, brow knitted in thought. “Damn that Niryn! It has to be him, weakening Kor’s mind.”

  “I don’t doubt it. But maybe Korin wasn’t too hard to sway, either.” So much for tact.

  Tamír gave him a wry look. “I know, Ki. You were right about him all along, but I still say there’s good in him, too. Once we know where he is, I’ll call for a parley. There’s got to be some way to resolve this, short of war!”

  “I admit I don’t much like the idea of facing friends on the battlefield. Not even Alben or Mago. Well, maybe Mago.”

  That earned him a fleeting grin. Ki stood up and reached for the dry flannel by the tub, noting how she averted her eyes. He quickly wrapped the cloth around his waist and looked around for something to put on besides his own filthy clothes.

  Someone had laid out clean garments for him, too. The long linen shirt had white silk embroidery around the neck and gathered cuffs. He pulled it over his head, then stood there with the breeches in his hand, unsure what to do next.

  He looked up at Tamír again and saw the same confusion. They both wanted this to be simple, like nothing had changed.

  She shrugged, not quite looking at him. “Stay?”

  “All right.” But he pulled on the breeches anyway, then blew out all but one lamp. He returned uncertainly to the bed, wondering if he should sleep on the floor with Baldus. Tamír was under the covers now, with the coverlet pulled up to her nose. He could just see her dark eyes watching him expectantly.

  Still uncertain, he wrapped himself in a spare blanket and settled on the far edge of the bed. They lay facing each other, faces half-shadowed in the soft glow of the night lamp. Less than two arms span separated them, but it felt like a mile.

  After a moment, Tamír reached out to him. He laced his fingers with hers, glad of the contact. Her fingers were warm and sun-browned from days in the saddle, not soft and pale like the girls he’d bedded. Those hands had trembled, or caressed. Tamír held his hand firm and sure, same as always. It made Ki feel very odd inside, even as he watched her eyes drift shut and her face relax in sleep. With her face pressed into the pillow and her hair spilled across her cheek like that, she looked like Tobin again.

  He waited until he was certain she was really asleep, then let go of her hand and rolled on his back, teetering on the edge of the mattress and longing for the nights when they’d so innocently slept warm in each other’s arms.

  Chapter 5

  In the dream she was still Tobin who’d lived at the keep, and the tower door was never locked.

  He climbed the stairs to his mother’s ruined sitting room at the top and found Brother waiting for him. Hand in hand, the twins climbed onto the ledge of the window that looked west toward the mountains. Between the tips of his boots, Tobin saw the river below, surging black beneath the ice like a great serpent trying to break free.

  The grip on his hand tightened; it was his mother with him now, not Brother. Ariani was pale and bloody, but she smiled as she stepped off the ledge, pulling Tobin down with her.

  But Tobin didn’t fall. He flew up into the sky and far over the mountains to a cliff above the dark Osiat Sea. Looking back over his shoulder he saw the now-familiar hills, and snowy peaks beyond. As always in this dream, the robed man stood off in the distance, waving to him. Would he ever see the man’s face?

  Then Ki appeared at Tobin’s side and took his hand, drawing him to the brink of the cliff to show him the fine harbor that lay below. Tobin could see their faces reflected down there, side by side, like a miniature painted on silver foil.

  Tamír had experienced this dream so often now that she knew she was dreaming, and turned all the more eagerly to Ki. Perhaps this time …

  But as always, she woke with a start before their lips could touch.

  Ki lay curled up on the far side of the bed, and opened his eyes as soon as she stirred. “You were restless. Did you sleep at all?”

  “Yes. And now I’m starving.” She lay there, watching with bittersweet fondness as Ki yawned and stretched and rubbed his eyes. He’d left the front of his shirt unlaced and she could see the little horse charm she’d made him soon after they’d met, still hanging around his neck on its chain. He’d never taken it off since she’d given it to him, not even in the bath. For a fleeting moment it could have been any morning in the old days, the two of them waking up together to face a new day.

  The illusion shattered as quickly as her dream had when he got up so quickly and made his way barefoot to the door.

  “I’ll go find us something to eat,” he said, not looking back. “I’ll knock before I come back in.”

  Tamír sighed, guessing he was anxious to give her time to get dressed.

  A moment later there was a knock at the door and Lady Una stepped in, still in her mud-stained tunic and boots. She wore a new baldric with the colors of Tamír’s guard.

  Baldus woke at last and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

  “Go find yourself some breakfast,” Tamír told the boy.

  “Yes, Highness.” The boy yawned and gave Una a curious look, his eyes lingering admiringly on her sword. Then he recognized her and made her a hasty bow. “Lady Una!”

  Una looked down at the boy, then gave a little cry of surprise. She knelt and took his hand. “You’re Lady Erylin’s son, aren’t you? I bet you know my brother Atmir. He’s Duchess Malia’s page at court.”

  “Yes, lady! We have lessons together, and sometimes we play—” Baldus trailed off and his face fell. “Well, we did—before.”

  “Have you seen him, since the attack?”

  He shook his head sadly. “I haven’t seen any of my friends since the enemy came.”

  Una’s kind smile couldn’t cover her disappointment. “Well, I’m glad you’re safe. If I see him, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”

  “Thank you, my lady.” Baldus bowed to Tamír and went out.

  Una straightened to attention. “Forgive me, Highness. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I’ve had no word of any of my family.”

  “No need to apologize. Poor Baldus. He doesn’t really understand what’s happened. I hope you both find your kin.” She paused expectantly. “Why are you here?”

  Una began to look uncomfortable. “Lord Tharin thought you might need assistance, Highness.”

  Suddenly self-conscious to be sitting there in nothing but a woman’s nightgown, Tamír found the robe and wrapped herself in it. “Better?”

  Una made her another hasty bow. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say to you, really, or how to act.”

  “You and everyone else!” Tamír spread her arms. “Well, here I am. Take a good look.”

  Una blushed. “It’s not that. You know, when I threw myself at you and kissed you that time? If I’d known, I’d never have done such a thing.”

  Tamír still blushed at the memory. “It wasn’t your fault. Hell, I didn’t know either back then. Believe me, I don’t hold it against you. Let’s just forget it.” She raked a hand absently back through her tangled hair. “Look at you now, a warrior, after all! I guess those sword-fighting lessons were useful, after all.”

  “It was a good start,” said Una, obviously relieved by the change of subject. “Although I think I was the only girl who wasn’t there just to make eyes at the boys.”

  Ki hadn’t minded that at all, Tamír recalled. She pushed that thought aside at once. “So, Captain Ahra finished your education?”

  “Yes. I remembered K
i’s stories about his sister, so I rode for Lord Jorvai’s holding the night I ran away and found her. I put all my trust in her, and she promised to make a soldier of me. Her methods weren’t quite as refined as yours, though.” Una grinned. “I must admit, I was a bit surprised when I met her. She’s much—rougher than Ki.”

  Tamír laughed outright at that. “I’ve met his whole family, and that’s a very forgiving assessment. But tell me, why did you run away like that? There were rumors that you’d been killed by the king, or your father.”

  “That’s not far from the truth. Father was terrified of losing favor with your uncle. He beat me and said I was to be sent off to live with some ancient aunt in the central islands until he could marry me off. So I ran away. All I took was this.” She touched her sword hilt. “It was my grandmother’s. Mother gave it to me with her blessing when I left. But things are different now, aren’t they? Women can be warriors again, even noblewomen.”

  “Yes, even nobles.”

  Forgetting her breeches and sword, Una made her a graceful curtsy. “You have my loyalty until death, Highness.”

  Tamír bowed. “And I accept it. Now tell me honestly, do you think I look much like a girl?”

  “Well— Perhaps if you combed your hair? And didn’t scowl so much?”

  Tamír let out an unladylike snort, noting with a twinge of envy that Una really was quite pretty, with her smooth, dark hair and oval face.

  Baldus peeked in just then. “It’s Mistress Iya, Highness. She wants to come in.”

  Tamír frowned at the intrusion, but nodded.

  Iya wore a gown of fine brown wool and a fancy leather girdle, and her long grey hair was combed loose over her shoulders, making her look younger and less severe than usual. She was carrying what looked like several dresses over one arm.

  “Hello, Una. Good morning, Highness. Ki said you were awake. I hope you rested well?”

  Tamír shrugged, eyeing the gowns with suspicion.

  Iya smiled and held them up. “I’ve come to help you dress.”

  “I’m not wearing those!”

  “I’m afraid you must. There are already enough rumors flying about saying you’re only a boy playing at being a girl, without you adding to them. Please, Tamír, you must trust me in this. There’s nothing shameful about wearing a dress, is there, Lady Una? It hasn’t stopped you being a soldier.”