“Has something happened?” Korin called out to a harness maker fanning himself on a crate in front of his shop. The man shook his head and went inside.
“What rudeness,” Zusthra exclaimed indignantly. “I’ll thrash the fellow!”
To Tobin’s relief, Korin shook his head and kicked his horse into a gallop.
They were within sight of the Palatine gate when someone threw a cabbage from the upper window of a house. It missed Korin’s head by inches and struck Tanil on the shoulder, knocking the squire from his horse.
Korin reined in furiously as the Companions closed ranks around him. “Search that house. Bring me the man who dares attack the king’s son!”
His captain, Melnoth, kicked the door down and stormed in with a dozen men. The rest formed a circle around the Companions, weapons drawn. Screams and the sound of breaking crockery soon came from inside.
A crowd gathered as Korin helped Tanil back into the saddle.
“I’m all right,” Tanil insisted, rubbing his elbow.
“You’re lucky it isn’t broken,” said Ki. “Why the hell is someone shying cabbages at us all of a sudden?”
The soldiers dragged three people from the house: an old man and woman, and a young fellow in the blue-and-white robes of an Illioran temple initiate.
“Which of you attacked me?” Korin demanded.
“I threw the cabbage!” the priest shot back, staring arrogantly up at Korin.
The prince was visibly taken aback by the man’s brazen vehemence. For a moment he looked more like a hurt child than an angry noble. “But why?”
The man spat on the ground. “Ask your father.”
“What’s this to do with him?”
Instead of answering, the young priest spat again, and began yelling, “Abomination! Abomination! Murders! You are killing the land—”
Captain Melnoth struck him on the head with his sword hilt and the man fell senseless to the ground.
“Is this your kin?” Korin demanded of the cowering elderly couple.
The toothless old man could only whimper. His wife wrapped her arms around him and looked imploringly up at Korin. “Our nephew, my prince, just in from the country to serve at the Dog Street temple. I had no idea he’d do such a thing! Forgive him, I beg you. He’s young …”
“Forgive?” Korin let out a startled laugh. “No, old mother, I don’t forgive such an act. Captain, take him to the Harriers and see that he’s questioned.”
The old woman’s wailing followed them as they rode on.
Erius made light of the incident that night as the boys feasted with him in his private courtyard. The squires served at table, assisted by a few of the king’s young men. Moriel was among them, and Tobin was amused to see how he was careful to stay out of Korin’s reach.
Niryn, Hylus, and a handful of other nobles dined with them. Everyone had heard of the incident with the young Illioran, of course, but had to have it again from Korin.
When he was done, Erius sat back and nodded. “Well, Korin, perhaps it’s time you see that it’s not all cheers and roses, ruling a great kingdom. There are traitors everywhere.”
“He called me an abomination, Father,” said Korin. The accusation had been eating at him all day.
“What else would you expect from an Illioran?” Niryn sneered. “I wonder sometimes that you let their temples remain open in the city, Majesty. Priests are the worst traitors of all, corrupting the simpleminded populace with their wives’ tales.”
“But what did he mean, telling me to ask you about it?” Korin persisted.
“If I may, my king?” asked Lord Hylus, looking grave. “The man’s remarks were most certainly in reference to the executions announced today.”
“Executions?” Korin turned expectantly to his father.
“Yes, that’s why I invited you here tonight, before this other unpleasantness occurred,” his father replied. “I’ve something special planned, my boys. Tomorrow night there’s to be a burning!”
Tobin felt cold despite the lingering heat of the day.
“A wizard burning?” Korin exclaimed, delighted. “We’ve been wanting to see one of those!”
Lynx leaned over Tobin’s shoulder to fill his cup. “Some of us have,” he muttered without much enthusiasm.
“Your father understands that you are no longer a child, my prince,” Niryn said with an obsequious smile. “It’s time you and your Companions witness the full power of Skalan justice. Thanks to your quick thinking this afternoon, we’ll have one more rope on the gibbet pole.”
“And you won’t have far to go to see it done,” the king said, comfortable over his wine and nuts. “The East Market is being cleared as we speak.”
“Then you mean to go forward with this, my king?” Hylus asked softly. “You will not reconsider?”
The chamber went silent.
Erius turned slowly to his chancellor, and Tobin recognized the sudden change in his uncle’s jovial countenance. It was the same look he’d given Tobin when he’d foolishly asked that Cirna be given to Ki’s father. This time Niryn did not intervene.
“I believe I made myself clear on the matter this morning. Do you have something more to say?” the king replied, his voice dangerously low.
Hylus looked slowly around the table, but no one would meet his eye. “Only to reiterate that such matters have always been dealt with outside the city walls. In light of today’s incident, perhaps Your Majesty should—”
Erius lurched to his feet, clutching his mazer in one upraised hand, ready to hurl it at the old man. His face had gone dark red and sweat beaded his brow. Caught behind the Lord Chancellor’s chair, Ruan clutched the empty alms basin to his chest. Hylus lowered his head and pressed a hand to his heart, but did not flinch.
Time seemed to stop for one awful moment. Then Niryn rose and whispered something in the king’s ear.
Erius slowly lowered the cup and slumped back in his chair. Glaring around at the table, he demanded, “Does anyone else object to the execution of traitors?”
No one spoke.
“Very well, then,” Erius said thickly. “The executions will proceed as I order. Where I order. Now if you will all excuse me, I have other matters to attend to.”
Korin rose to follow his father, but Niryn shook his head and accompanied the king himself. Moriel followed. Korin stared after them in silent outrage, cheeks flaming.
It was Hylus who broke this silence. “Ah, my prince, these are trying times. I should not have questioned your good father. I pray you will convey my apologies to him.”
“Of course, my lord.” Korin was still shaken, too.
Everyone rose to leave, but Tobin sat a moment longer, heart pounding in his ears. He’d grown complacent again, basking in his uncle’s favor. Tonight he knew he’d had a true glimpse of the man his mother had feared, the man who could in cold blood order the death of children.
Chapter 24
Traitors or not, I don’t like the feel of this,” Ki muttered as they finished dressing the following evening. “It’s bad business, killing priests. My dad used to say that’s what brought on all the famines and sickness there’ve been since the king—” Ki bit his tongue and looked quickly at Tobin to see if he’d offended him; the king was his uncle, after all. He kept forgetting that.
But Tobin was staring off with that distracted look he still sometimes got since his illness. Ki wasn’t sure if he’d even heard him.
Tobin tugged on his new surcoat and let out a troubled sigh. “I don’t know what to think, Ki. We’re pledged to fight all traitors against Skala, and I will! But the way the king looked at Hylus?” He shook his head. “I grew up with my mother’s madness. I know the look of it, and I swear that’s what I saw in the king’s eyes when he was shouting at that poor old man. And no one else said anything! They all acted like it was nothing. Even Korin.”
“If he is mad, who’d dare say anything? He’s still king,” Ki reminded him. “And what about Niryn?
He looked pretty damn pleased, I thought.”
A soft knock came at the door and Nikides and Ruan slipped in. Ki noted with alarm that Nikides was close to tears.
“What’s wrong?” Tobin asked, guiding him to a chair.
Nikides was too overcome to answer.
“Haven’t you heard the rumors?” asked Ruan.
“No,” Ki replied. “What is it?”
Nikides found his voice then. “Grandfather is under arrest. For treason! For asking a question!” Nikides choked out, shaking with anger. “All Grandfather did was ask a question. You heard him. The king knows as well as anyone that there’s never been an execution inside the city walls, except—Well, you know.”
“Except during Queen Agnalain’s reign,” Ruan finished for him. “Begging your pardon, Prince Tobin, but your grandmother did some dark things.”
“You needn’t apologize to me. She was mad, just like my mother.”
“Don’t say that, Tob,” Ki begged. Her memory seemed to be on Tobin’s mind too much these days. “She never did anything like Mad Agnalain.” Or the king, he added silently.
“It can’t be true,” he said to Nikides. “Chancellor Hylus is the wisest, most loyal man in Skala and everyone knows it. You know how rumors are.”
“But what if it is true?” Nikides fought back tears. “What if he’s executed with the others tonight? And—” He looked imploringly up at Tobin. “How could I just sit there and watch?”
“Come on. Korin will know, I bet,” said Tobin.
Tanil answered their knock. “Time to go already?” He had on his showiest armor but his boots were still unlaced.
“No, we need to speak with Korin,” Tobin replied.
Korin was standing before his long looking glass with his cuirass half-buckled. The Sakor horse charm Tobin had made for him swung against the gilded leather as Tanil wrestled with the stubborn buckles. Two valets, meanwhile, were laying out ceremonial cloaks and polishing the prince’s gold-chased helm.
Ki felt a pang of guilt, seeing all this. Tobin still dressed himself, and only let Ki help with the straps he couldn’t reach. As much as he admired Tobin’s simplicity, he sometimes wondered if he shouldn’t try to live a bit more like a royal.
Tobin explained Nikides’ concerns, but Korin only shrugged. “I’ve heard nothing of it, Nik. You mustn’t mind Father. You know how changeable he can be, especially when he’s weary. It’s this damn heat!” He turned back to the mirror to watch as Tanil draped his maroon-and-gold cloak over his shoulders. “But Hylus should know better than to question Father!”
Any son would stand up for his father, Ki knew; he’d done it often enough himself. All the same, there was an imperious note in Korin’s voice he’d been hearing more often lately and it left him uneasy. So did poor Nikides’ stricken look.
“I thought it was the Lord Chancellor’s role to advise the king,” Tobin said quietly.
Korin turned and ruffled his cousin’s hair. “An advisor must still show the proper respect, coz.”
Tobin started to say something, but Ki caught his eye and shook his head slightly. Nikides’ nervous glance told him he’d done the right thing, as well as just how much life at court had changed since the king’s return.
The Companions assembled in the mess for Master Porion’s inspection before going on to the New Palace. Tobin stayed close to Nikides as the others milled about.
Ki stood with them, but his eye was on Korin. The prince was in high spirits, chattering on with the older boys like it was some festival they were going off to. Some of them had seen hangings, but tonight wizards would be burned!
“I hear they turn black and shrivel up like a spider in the fire,” said Alben, clearly relishing the idea.
“I heard they explode into colored smoke,” Orneus countered.
“We’ll show ’em how traitors are served in Ero!” Zusthra declared, brandishing his sword. “Bad enough to have enemies over the water without worrying about vipers here at home.”
This was greeted with a hearty cheer.
“Wizards are the most dangerous sort of traitor, with their magic and free ways,” Orneus declared, and Ki guessed he was quoting something he’d heard his father say.
“Rogue priests are the next worst, like that bastard who attacked Korin,” Urmanis chimed in. “And these damn Illiorans who still claim that only a woman can rule Skala? It’s like shitting on all the victories King Erius has given them.”
“My father says all Illiorans still secretly believe that,” said Alben. “Bunch of ingrates! King Erius saved this land.”
Lynx was quiet, Ki noted. That was nothing unusual, but Ki had heard him mention having an uncle who was a wizard and guessed he was more troubled than he let on. Maybe, like Nikides, he was scared of seeing a familiar face tonight.
“Wizards, priests—they’re all moonstruck,” Zusthra declared. “It’s Sakor who puts the strength in our arms.”
Porion strode in just then, looking like a thundercloud. Leaping up on a table, he shouted for their attention.
This was the first time Ki had seen the arms master in full armor. His cuirass was oiled and polished, but showed the scars of many battles, as did the great scabbard swinging at his side and the steel helmet he carried beneath his arm.
“Line up!” he barked, glowering around at them. “Listen to me now, boys, and listen well. It’s no pleasure jaunt we’re going on tonight, so I don’t want any more of that kind of talk. The servants can hear you at the other end of the corridor.”
He set his helmet down and folded his arms. “Traitors or not, the men and women who die tonight are Skalans, and some of them will have supporters in the crowd—friends, family, and the like. As you know, this is the first time in a long time that an execution has been held inside the city walls instead of at Traitor’s Hill. It’s not for me to say whether that’s wise or right, but I can tell you it’s not popular among some factions here in Ero. So keep your mouths shut, your eyes open, and your swords at the ready. You Companions are coming into your own tonight. What’s your purpose?”
“To guard Prince Korin!” Caliel replied.
“That’s right. You’ve all trained for this and tonight you could be called on to live up to your oath. We’re to ride before the king to the market and back, with king’s men flanking us. At the first sign of trouble, we close ranks around Korin and get him back here any way we can. The king’s men may help us, but the honor and duty are ours.”
“What about Father?” Korin demanded. “I’m not going to be carried off like baggage if he’s in danger!”
“The king will be well protected. Your task, my prince, is to stay alive to rule after him. So no heroics tonight, do you understand?” He held Korin’s eye until the boy nodded, then gave the rest of them a dark look. “And no more carrying on like a bunch of little girls on a picnic, either! This is solemn business.” He paused and rubbed at his grizzled beard. “And a risky one, too, if you ask me. Blood will be spilled in the capital tonight; the blood of priests. Whatever their crimes, it’s an unlucky thing, so stay sharp and be ready for trouble every inch of the way until we’re safe back here again.”
He jumped down from the table and began to sketch out a battle plan on the floor with a bit of chalk. “I’m the most concerned about the market square; that’s where the crowd will be thickest, and most contained. We’ll be here, before the platform at the center. Korin, you and the nobles will flank the king to his right. Squires, you’ll each sit your horse behind your lord and I want you to keep an eye on the crowd while the others are watching the executions. If the worst happens, you stay with Korin and we’ll fight our way back to the gate. Do you all understand?”
“Yes, Master Porion!” they answered with one voice.
He paused again, looking around at them. “Good. And it’s rule of war tonight. Anyone who panics and deserts the prince, I’ll kill myself.”
“Yes, Master Porion!” Ki shouted with the others, knowin
g it was no idle threat.
As they filed out he gave Tobin’s wrist a quick, furtive squeeze. “Ready?”
Tobin glanced at him, perfectly calm. “Of course. You?”
Ki nodded, grinning. He wasn’t scared either, but swore secretly that if trouble did come, his first concern would not be for Korin.
A yellow full moon hung over the city, painting a rippling golden path across the face of the harbor below. The air was dead still, as if the whole city was holding its breath. No sea breeze cut the fetid summer smell of the streets. Ki’s torch hardly flickered as they rode slowly along. The tall stone buildings that lined the high street gave back the clatter of hooves and the mournful throbbing of the drums.
Tobin rode beside Korin and Porion, of course, which put Ki just behind them with Caliel, Mylirin, and Tanil. All the squires carried torches. The King’s Guard flanked them and brought up the rear. Ki was glad of the line of red tunics to either side. Tonight he felt the full weight of the responsibility that underlay all their training and banquets and mock battles.
Looking back, he could just see the king over the heads of the other Companions. The torchlight turned Erius’ crown to a wreath of fire around his brow, and glanced from his upraised sword.
“He looks like Sakor himself, doesn’t he?” Mylirin whispered admiringly, following Ki’s gaze.
Ki nodded, distracted by a flash of silver and white beside the king. Lord Niryn rode at the king’s side like a general.
The crowds outside the Palatine had been smaller than they’d expected, and quiet. Passing through a neighborhood populated mostly by Aurënfaie nobles and rich merchants, however, Ki looked around nervously. It was not late, but hardly a light showed.
A herald rode ahead of the main column, calling out, “The king’s justice will be served. Long live King Erius!”
A few bystanders returned the call, but others faded back into shadowed doorways, watching their progress in silence. Looking up, Ki saw people watching them from their windows. He braced for more cabbages, or worse.