“Would you boys like to join us for a last cup?” Niryn offered, knowing full well they wouldn’t take him up on it.
“Thank you for the offer, my lord, but I’ve already made plans for the evening,” Caliel replied coolly, then caught Lutha’s eye. “You do still want that game of bakshi, don’t you, Rattie? I promise I’ll let you try and win your money back.”
Rattie? thought Lutha. It was an affectionate nickname from his early days with the Companions; as a child Lutha had been small, quick in a fight, and had borne an unfortunate resemblance to said rodent. But no one had called him that in years. He shrugged and replied, “You’ll do better to try and hang on to your own.”
“Come on then. The stones are in my room.”
Niryn waited until the other Companions were out of sight, then murmured, “Watch those two, Moriel.”
He made his way alone up to Korin’s door, where he swiftly sketched a pair of spells on the air, weaving in the proper intents.
Korin opened the door to his knock and waved him inside impatiently. “Come along, won’t you? I want you to hear this.”
The herald’s mind had proven suitably malleable as well. He showed no hint of surprise or objection as Niryn stepped in and closed the door softly after him.
* * *
Caliel’s chamber was much like Lutha’s: narrow, damp, and sparsely furnished. Caliel had not taken a new squire, even when Barieus offered to help him find somebody. Lutha understood his friend’s hesitation. Who would you trust here? As far as Lutha knew, Cal hadn’t had a woman to his bed since they’d been here, either, though Lutha and Barieus, like Alben, had found plenty of willing girls among the servants of the keep.
Barieus started for the small wine table against the wall, looking for cups. Before he could pour for them, however, Caliel said, “Barieus, would you lend me your lord for a little while?”
“Sure, Cal.” Barieus shot Lutha a curious look and went out.
“So, are we going to play?” Lutha asked.
Instead, Caliel held a finger to his lips and went to the narrow keyhole window.
“Rattie?” Lutha whispered. “You haven’t called me that in—”
“I just wanted to get your attention. And I need a clever rat to climb out this window.”
Lutha blinked. It was a sheer drop on this side of the fortress.
“Not all the way out,” Caliel amended. “Come here. If I hold your feet, I think you can fit out the wide part.”
Caliel pushed a wooden stool under the window for Lutha to stand on. He stepped up and examined the window. The slit had a round cutout at the bottom for an archer to shoot through, just large enough for someone small and flexible to squeeze out.
“But why?” he asked, peering out at the very long drop below.
Caliel gave him an impatient look. “I want to hear what that messenger has to say, of course!”
“What? How drunk are you?” Lutha hissed. “It’s a herald! It’s Korin! It’s—”
Caliel clapped a hand over Lutha’s mouth and pushed the shutter closed with his other hand. “Do you want him to hear you?”
Lutha pushed Caliel’s hand away but shut his mouth.
“I know it’s Korin!” Cal whispered. “That’s why I want to know what’s going on. This message might be from Tobin. At least I hope it is!” He pushed the shutter back again and gave Lutha an expectant look.
“If you drop me, I swear to Bilairy I’ll haunt you.”
“Fair enough. Hurry now, before we miss it all.”
Caliel snuffed the lamp. Lutha stepped onto the stool and squeezed out the loophole. It was a snug fit even for him, but once his shoulders were through the rest of him fit easily. With Caliel’s arms wrapped tightly around his thighs, he was able to push himself out from the wall and twist himself toward Korin’s window. I must look like a caterpillar on a branch, he thought sourly, straining every muscle.
Korin’s bedroom window was only a few feet away. Twisting himself to the side and grasping the edge of the stonework that framed the loophole there, he got close enough to hear what was going on inside, though the angle was wrong to see anything but a sliver of tapestry-covered wall. The breeze was in his favor. He could hear the voices clearly.
“—word from your cousin, the Princess Royal Tamír, of Ero and Atyion.”
“You are ill informed, Herald. There is no such person as this princess.”
Lutha stifled a grunt of surprise. That was Niryn’s voice, not Korin’s.
“Forgive me, Majesty,” the herald amended hastily, sounding frightened. “I am instructed to say that your cousin sends most loving regards. May I read the missive?”
“Go on.” That was Korin.
Lutha heard the rustle of parchment, then the clear, carrying voice of the herald in his official capacity.
“ ‘To Prince Korin, Beloved Cousin and Brother. I know you’ve had word of me, and what has happened. I know how hard it must be to believe, but it’s true. I am a girl, but the same cousin you’ve always known. You only have to meet with me to have the proof. The high priest of Afra and most of Atyion witnessed the change and can vouch for me. I write to you now in my true form, as Tamír, daughter of Ariani and Rhius, the scion of Atyion. My seal bears witness.’ ”
Lutha caught his breath. That certainly sounded like Tobin’s manner of speech, and he claimed powerful witnesses.
“ ‘I’m sorry I had to lie to you and the others,’ ” the herald continued. “ ‘I’ve only known for a few years myself, but it was hard all the same, keeping the secret from my friends. I never meant to betray you when I joined the Companions. I didn’t know then, I swear by the Flame. I never brought harm to you or your father, though he did great harm to my mother and her kin, whether you want to believe it or not. My mother should have been queen, and me after her. It breaks my heart to write this to you, Kor, but your father brought a curse on the land, one it is my burden to lift and heal.
“ ‘I mean you no harm, cousin. I never could. You were always kind to me. I have always loved you as a brother and I always will. Does it matter so much between us, who wears the crown? You are a rightful prince of Skala. I want you at my right hand, in my court and on the battlefield. Your children will be secure in their inheritance.
“ ‘Please, parley with me. I want things to be right between us again.’ ”
The herald paused. “If you’ll forgive me, Majesty, it is signed as follows: ‘Your loving cousin and sister, Princess Tamír, who was Tobin.’ ”
“I see.” Something in Korin’s voice caught at Lutha’s heart. He sounded sad, not angry.
“Utter nonsense and subterfuge!” Niryn cut in sharply. “Majesty, you cannot possibly—”
Korin said something too softly for Lutha to catch.
“Majesty?”
“I said leave me! Both of you,” Korin shouted with such vehemence that if Caliel hadn’t had still a secure grip on Lutha, he’d probably have fallen. Caliel dragged him back through the window.
Lutha collapsed in a trembling heap on the floor, heart hammering in his chest. Caliel closed the shutter and set the hasp.
“What is it? What did you hear?” he demanded softly.
“It was from Tobin. At least that’s what the herald claims, and they can’t lie, can they? Only he says he really is a girl and—”
“You’re babbling. Slow down. Start from the beginning.”
So Lutha did, repeating as much of what he’d heard as he could remember.
“Niryn was in there?”
“I bet he put some spell on the herald and made him break his vow.”
“Korin, too. And you’re right; that does sound like Tobin. And he offers proofs? Still, it could be a trick. Or a trap.”
“That’s what Niryn said.”
“I don’t like to agree with that bastard, but it makes more sense than the alternative.”
“Come on, Cal! Tobin would never betray us like that, or Ki either. Not of their o
wn free will, anyway. I’ve been thinking and thinking on it. There are wizards at Tobin’s court, too. I wonder if maybe one of them put some kind of spell on them, like Niryn is trying to do with Korin? There was that one old woman who came around. Tobin said she was attached to his family somehow.”
“Mistress Iya? I think she was a friend of his father’s.”
“You couldn’t call Tobin a traitor, could you, if someone was making him do all that?” Lutha was still stubbornly clinging to hope.
“I don’t think that would change the minds of most of the nobles supporting Korin.”
Caliel lit the lamp, then sat down on the bed. “Damn it, Lutha, we’ve got to get this settled once and for all, especially with this latest victory at Ero still fresh in everyone’s minds. I don’t know how much longer Korin can keep his supporters if he won’t fight.” He rubbed absently at the ring Tobin had made. “The only spies we have word from are those sent by Niryn. If only we could go see for ourselves—We’re the damn Companions, for hell’s sake! We’re sworn to protect Korin. We should be the ones to bring him proof one way or the other. I don’t trust Niryn to do that, not the way he hangs on Kor like a red leech.”
“Neither do I, but what can we do?” asked Lutha.
“I think you know that as well as I do, but I want one more chance to reason with Korin. You say he sent Niryn out just now? Good. Then I think I’ll go and see if I can have a quiet chat with him without an audience for once.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
Caliel smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Let me talk to him alone first.”
Lutha nodded and turned to go, but Caliel caught him by the hand. “I’ve been glad of your company here, Lutha. I can still talk with you honestly.”
“You always can,” Lutha assured him. “Barieus, too. We don’t like how things are, but I know it’s been worse for you. You were always so close with him.”
Caliel nodded slowly, looking so sad all of a sudden that Lutha nearly hugged him. If they’d both been a few years younger, he might have.
Lutha lingered a moment, watching as Caliel knocked softly at Korin’s door. To his relief, Korin let him in.
Things just can’t be as bad as they seem, he decided, heading back to his own room. Hadn’t Korin thrown Niryn out, just now, and let Caliel in? That had to be a good sign. If only someone would stick a knife in that red bastard, maybe things could get back to normal.
Rounding the corner, Lutha suddenly found himself face-to-face with the Toad and Niryn himself. He’d have plowed right into them if Niryn hadn’t caught him by the arm. The wizard’s grip was strong, and his hand lingered a moment longer than necessary. Lutha felt a chill run through him, like the onset of a fever. His belly did a queasy roll and he had to swallow hard to keep his wine down.
“Have a care, my lord,” Niryn murmured. He patted Lutha’s arm, then tucked his hands back into his own voluminous silver-and-white sleeves. “Rushing around headlong like that, you’ll do yourself harm.”
“Forgive me, my lord,” Lutha said hastily. “I—I didn’t expect to meet you here.”
Niryn gave him an odd look and Lutha’s stomach tightened again. “As I said, you should have a care. Come along, Moriel.”
Lutha watched until he was certain they were really gone, clutching his sword hilt, heart pounding loud in his ears. He felt cold despite the warmth of the summer night.
Barieus looked up from the boot he was polishing as Lutha came in. “What happened to you?”
“Nothing. Why?”
Barieus came over and pressed a hand to Lutha’s brow. “You’re white as milk and all covered in sweat. I knew you were drinking too much! Honestly, you’re getting as bad as Korin.”
“It’s not that. I’m pale?”
“Awful. Come on, I’m putting you to bed.”
Lutha suffered his friend’s fussing and kept his new fears to himself. Niryn had done something to him, something that showed. Was he cursed? Would he die before dawn? He’d heard stories of some of the things wizards could do if they were very powerful.
Unlike some of the other Companions, he and Barieus had never been anything more than friends, but he was glad to sleep close beside him tonight.
* * *
Niryn hadn’t needed to touch the young Companion to know what he’d been up to with Caliel. Moriel had been most informative, as usual. The boy had a true talent for listening through doors.
The young lords were getting quite bold lately, and Niryn enjoyed immensely watching them plot against him. The guilty look on that boy’s face just now had been so amusingly obvious that Niryn hadn’t been able to resist putting the lightest touch of a curse on him, just enough to give him bad dreams for a few nights.
He’d taken no direct action against Lord Caliel as yet. There had been no need. Korin’s own growing fears and the self-serving attitudes of some of the other Companions were doing the wizard’s work for him. Caliel’s obvious stubbornness about their position here, his outspokenness in company, and his misplaced friendship with Prince Tobin had cost him Korin’s trust with very little prompting on Niryn’s part. The ground was now fertile for his revenge whenever he chose to take it.
Moriel moved about the chamber, folding away Niryn’s overrobe into a chest and pouring a cup of sweet cider from a jug on the sideboard. Niryn drank it gratefully and Moriel refilled it.
“Thank you. That was dry work tonight.” Niryn had never had much taste for wine; it weakened the mind, and he knew all too well how such weakness could be exploited. At table he made a show of lingering over his mazer, taking no more than a few sips.
Moriel knelt to remove his master’s shoes. Orun had made certain this one was trained well in all the arts and war skills a squire would have needed. Tobin’s refusal to take Moriel in place of Ki had left the boy suitably bitter and eager for revenge. Orun had trained Moriel in other ways, as well, but Niryn did not take boys to his bed, not even willing ones like Moriel.
“Were you successful, my lord?” he asked as he placed the shoes neatly by the clothes chest.
“Of course. You know how persuasive I can be.”
Moriel smiled. “And the herald?”
“He was no challenge at all.”
“Was the letter from Prince Tobin?”
“Yes, quite a cunning piece of work. He pleaded with Korin to forgive him for his treachery and thought to convince the king to give over his crown without a fight.”
“It would be just like him,” Moriel sneered. “What sort of reply did Korin give, if I may ask, my lord?”
“He said he’d give his answer tomorrow. Be a good lad and make certain that herald never leaves the isthmus, won’t you? Take a few of my guard with you and bring me back the king’s letter. I’ll be most interested to see what he has to say.”
“Of course, my lord. But won’t Prince Tobin wonder if his messenger doesn’t return?”
Niryn smiled. “Yes, I’m certain his cousin’s silence will be quite unsettling for him.”
Chapter 23
Korin answered Caliel’s knock with a curt, “Who is it?”
“It’s me, Kor. Let me in.”
There was a pause, and for a moment Caliel thought Korin would refuse.
“It’s not locked.”
Caliel slipped inside and closed the door.
The royal chamber was better appointed than the other rooms of the fortress, at least by Cirna standards. The large, carved bedstead was fitted with heavy, dust-laden velvet hangings. A few faded tapestries hung on the walls.
Korin sat at the writing table in his shirtsleeves, looking worn and unhappy. His face was flushed with wine and a full mazer stood at his elbow. He appeared to be in the midst of writing a reply to Tobin’s letter, which lay before him. Caliel went to Korin and picked up the cup, glancing down as he did so at the sheet of parchment in front of him. Korin had gotten no further than, “To the pretender, Prince Tobin—”
He to
ok a sip, watching for Korin’s reaction. He was glad to see no more than the usual level of irritation at the familiar liberty. He drew up another chair and sat down. “How are you?”
“Is that all you came to ask me?”
Caliel sat back and stretched out his long legs, pretending an ease he didn’t feel. “That herald got me curious. I thought I’d come see what all the fuss was about.”
Korin shrugged and tossed him Tobin’s letter. Caliel read the contents quickly and felt his heart skip a beat. Lutha had gotten most of it right, but it was even more shocking to see the words written out in Tobin’s own unmistakable scrawl.
Korin had reclaimed his mazer and was currently staring morosely into its depths. “Do you believe him?”
“I don’t know. Some of it—” I’m sorry I had to lie … I never meant any harm … be my brother still … I want things to be right and proper between us … “I do think you should meet with him, face-to-face.”
“No! Madman or necromancer’s monster, he’s a traitor, and I can’t be seen justifying his claim in any way.”
“Is that what Niryn counseled?”
“And he’s right!” Korin’s bloodshot eyes were wide now, and burning with a sudden, unreasoning fury. “Tobin haunts my dreams, Cal. I see him, all pale and leering, calling me usurper and a murderer’s son.” He rubbed at his eyes and shuddered.
“All the more reason to find out for yourself what his intentions really are.”
“I said no!” Korin snatched the letter back and slammed it down on the desk. He drained the cup and slammed that down, too.
“Damn it, Kor, I can’t believe you’re just going to take the word of others on this.”
“So you’re saying I should honor this—this request?”
“Korin, look at yourself! This is Niryn’s doing. He’s on you like a leech! He made you run from Ero. He brought you that ill-made girl you’ve got hidden away up in the tower. Is that how you treat a wife, Kor? A consort? Is this how the king of Skala lives? I say we gather your army tomorrow and ride for Ero. Parley with Tobin or fight him. Either way, you can see for yourself what the truth is!”