Nor Iron Bars A Cage (18 page)

Tobin led me somewhat apart from the main bulk of the company, around the lee of a hill. The king’s tent was set up on the top of the rise and men went back and forth on various errands. Tobin found us a place sheltered by some rocks but flat enough to sleep on, and unrolled his bedding and my own. He made up one pallet with both of them.

“You would share a bed? Here?”

He shrugged. “We won’t be the only ones. And there’s not much exciting that can be done with all our clothes on.” His smile was wry. “Even if you weren’t about to collapse.”

“And you’re not worried about appearing fay?”

 “Lyon, they already know I’m fay. It’s not a problem.” He layered the bedding thicker on the hard ground, and laid one blanket over it. “There. You stretch out and I’ll go fetch us supper in just a minute.”

I should have protested, and insisted I could see to myself, but instead I collapsed on the bedroll. My head was still jittering with the rhythm of hooves, and my eyes were sore and dry. I closed them, just for a moment.

I woke to something wet on my face. Just a week ago, that would have made me bolt upright in panic, but I could smell Tobin’s skin and knew his touch. Still, pride made me sit up and take the cloth from him, to clean my own face. I opened my eyes, and began wiping the grit from my hand as best I could, working the cloth between my fingers.

Tobin took it from me and passed over a hunk of bread stuffed with ground meat. “Here, eat something.”

I wanted to please him, but just the sight of food after hours lurching and jolting made me ill. “I’m not hungry, really. Can you eat both?”

He paused, mouth full and then nodded. But when he’d finished his portion he took mine and pinched a bit of bread off the outside. “Open your mouth.”

I did, and he placed the bread on my tongue. It was simple and flavorful, and somehow I got it down. I said, “I’m not some chick you have to feed. I’m just too tired to eat.”

“Indulge me.” He broke off another piece.

He fed me half a slice that way, before I really could take no more. I forced off my new riding boots and lay back down, pulling the covers around me. Beside me Tobin sat down too. I heard him swear softly and glanced up at him. He said, “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have to be out here in this crowd. I promised— one job and I’d see you right back home.”

The painful regret in his expression drove me to lighten my own. “And so you will, when this is over. And now I’m having an adventure. I’m just a bit too worn out and drunk to really appreciate it at the moment.”

His smile was forced. “Riding out with the King’s Own. A tale to tell your grandchildren.”

I snorted. “What grandchildren, oh fay soldierboy?”

“There is that. Maybe you’ll regale Dag and his sister with it.”

I sighed. Before this week I’d never spoken more than a few words to little Guinna. My life had changed so fast that something that would have been almost beyond me, now sounded wistfully easy.

I needed sleep. I rolled over further and closed my eyes. Tobin moved around for a while, sorting things out and then slid under the covers. I could feel his warmth, although he didn’t touch me. He said, “If you don’t want me behind you, you’ll have to turn over.”

I did so, and found his face inches from mine. His eyes caught the moonlight. There were little flecks of gold in the brown, like warm stars in a russet sky. He just looked at me with that steady gaze as I moved slowly closer and kissed him.

His mouth was cool, his lips slightly chapped and dry. But when he opened for me, his tongue was warm and he let me in softly. We kissed, without demand. I was tired enough that I almost drifted off in the simple pleasure of lips on lips. The second time my eyelids fluttered shut in fatigue and not passion, Tobin chuckled softly against my mouth. “Lucky for you I’m too tired to be insulted. Go to sleep, lion-boy.”

He rolled over, so his back was to my front. After a moment’s hesitation I moved in close. The night was cool, and Tobin was warm and strong. I wrapped my good arm around him, and closed my eyes. And all through the night, whenever I woke from nebulous dreams of pounding hooves and something bad coming, coming nearer, coming louder… he was there. I pressed my cheek to the back of his neck and breathed in the sweat and dust and scent of Tobin, and drifted off again without a sound.

The morning dawned cold and clear. I felt sore, but not as badly as I’d expected. Either the cider, or the days riding with Tobin, had eased my muscles enough that I only groaned and stretched, and didn’t come close to falling over. Improvement indeed. Tobin got up as soon as he felt me stir and he smiled to see me up and moving. “You look better. I’ll fetch water and breakfast. We won’t have long. The king travels fast when he sets his mind to it.”

I couldn’t help asking, “Why do you call him
‘sir’
, when everyone else calls him Sire?” I wanted to ask why the king smiled at him differently, why they were so easy together. That was the closest I was willing to come to the real question.

“He was my field commander, back when he was just the prince. He began to consider me his favorite aide and when the damned leg happened, he insisted that I should move to the Voices. I’m not going to claim friendship with His Majesty, but we’re easy together, and he likes me to treat him more as commander than lord, unless we’re in formal court.”

Tobin’s tone was so ordinary, so unconcerned, that it eased my mind somewhat. I said, “What do you think about this mad dash across the country? He really got us moving fast.”

Tobin laughed. “That’s my commander. Once he sees what needs to be done, he doesn’t wait around. I do think he’s right— if anything is going to happen out in those hills, it will be soon. In a few weeks the mountain passes will be open, and the Prince Regent knows our sentries will be watching closely by then. If he wants to benefit from surprise, he has to do it before that. If that tunnel exists and is that small, he needs time to get his people through it a few at a time. What did the ghost say? It took two days last time? That has to happen while we’re looking the other way because we think the mountains are still impassible.”

“If we have to fight them… I’m no kind of soldier.”

“If you try to join in a battle I’ll beat you myself. That’s not your role, or mine for that matter, anymore. We’re here to give our king the best information we can, so the active forces can do their job.”

“So you won’t have to fight either?” My pulse beat faster, waiting on his answer.

“Let’s hope not. It’s been years since I swung a sword in earnest.”

I hadn’t realized how terrified I was of having to watch him go to war, until I felt that weight fall away. I was less afraid of being killed than of losing Tobin. I told myself it was because he was my oldest friend, possibly my only friend, and I’d just found him again. But I knew that was a lie.

He was my safety and my wall, the mirror in whose eyes I somehow looked brave and desirable. If I stayed with Tobin long enough, maybe I could become a man worthy of what he saw in me. It was more hope than I’d had in a long time. As he turned and headed toward the cookfires to fetch us breakfast, I sent up a petition to Samal, a god I’d never spoken to before, for Tobin’s safety. He was every soldierly virtue in the flesh— he must surely be loved by the soldiers’ god.

When it was time to mount up, I was surprised and oddly pleased to see Tobin approaching with Dark and Cricket in tow. “I thought we left them at the castle.”

“Not likely. With the speed the king wants, each man has a remount. We’ll switch off during the day from now on. But I thought these two could use the first day unburdened, after the trip they’d already had. Dark is raring to go this morning.”

“I’m just as happy if Cricket isn’t raring.” I put my foot into the stirrup and managed to haul myself up on the first try. I was apparently getting the hang of this. “But I’m glad to have him.”

“Didn’t you like the mare? She’s also one of mine. Her name’s Bess.”

I chuckled. “You weren’t the one to name her, were you?”

Tobin swung onto Darkwind with his usual skill. “What makes you say that?”

“She’s named something sensible, not all fancy and not after an insect.”

“Ooh, smart man, just for that you can eat my dust.” He whirled Dark in a tight circle that did raise the dirt from under the stallion’s hooves, and lit out downhill, but it only took a few strides before he reined back to ride beside me as usual.

And so began another day like the last, only worse because I was out of cider. Men and horses and dust and aches. It was so foreign to who I was that I fumbled the reins once, trying to pinch myself and prove it wasn’t all some fever-dream. Although why a pinch should be more proof of reality than my aching thighs I really don’t know.

Tobin had friends in the army and among the Voices. The soldiers mainly greeted him with a call and a wave. I guess they couldn’t leave formation. But several of the other King’s Voices appeared out of the maelstrom to ride near us for a stretch and talk to Tobin. At first Tobin introduced me and tried to draw me into the conversation. But by the time three of the other Voices had failed utterly to lull me into joining in their banter, and ridden on, Tobin gave me a sideways look.

“They’re good men, all of them. Handpicked by the king.”

“I’m sure.”

“Friends of mine. Some more than others, of course, but Doyd there is a close friend. If I happen not to be around, you can trust him to help you out.”

My expression must have told him the likelihood of that, because he sighed softly. “I wish there’d been time to introduce you, in less chaotic circumstances. I think you’d like him. He’s solid as a rock, and speaks sense. Most of the time.” A quick smile flickered over his face, at some memory, no doubt.

I said roughly, “Having me nodding a greeting and not running for home is as good as you’re going to get right now. You go chat with them, if you like, and leave me be.”

I was ashamed of my ill temper as soon as I said it, though I had no more control over that than anything else in this insane day. But Tobin just said, “Surly cur,” with a grin that seemed more fond than annoyed. And stayed by my side.

Oddly, as the day went on, I found myself becoming more at ease. Cricket’s gaits fit me well, my muscles gave up fighting the saddle, and I was learning to ride off to the side when the men ahead raised heavy clouds of dust. Tobin’s good cheer was contagious and I began to look around me more.

Now a day’s ride out from the capital, the land was already becoming more open and rolling. There were fewer trees, and the tops of the hills were often tallgrass and not cultivated fields. We saw fewer people too, although everyone we passed did stop to stand, openmouthed or frowning, to watch our company go by. Ahead of us the mountains stood along the horizon, seeming to grow no larger despite the hours of travel.

I turned to Tobin during a stretch of walking. “Have you been out this way before?”

“Oh yes, I think I’ve traveled most of the major roads in this country, either as a soldier or as a Voice. I did a couple of seasons in the eastern patrol. Boring work for the most part, wandering around looking menacing and keeping the hill folk worried enough about us not to ally with the R’gin.”

“You didn’t fight the R’gin though.”

“Lords and ladies, no. Where’s your history gone, lion-boy? The R’gin haven’t sent a force over the mountains since before we were born.”

“The battle of Trimount,” I remembered.

“Right. That was the last one. Not that I think they wouldn’t have loved to try again, but the hill tribes learned their lesson about alliances with the R’gin then, and it hasn’t been long enough for them to forget it. I did fight in the north when King Olan decided to try our borders. And in the campaign to push forward the boundary far enough to discourage him ever doing it again. Shit work, that was.”

He fell silent, and I realized that was the time he’d mentioned, the one that put sadness in his warm eyes. I quickly said, “I know nothing about the mountains, really. Are there truly goats that can climb steep cliffs? I assume that’s an old wives’ tale.”

“No, that’s true enough.” He began to tell me about the wonders of the Rockcomb range, about waterfalls that dropped two hundred feet down sheer rockfaces and the eagles that nested high on the crags above. “Gallim and I once climbed to an eagle’s nest and stole a chick for King Faro’s collection. The head falconer said it was a rare Bronzed Eagle and was pleased, but Gallim panicked on the top of the cliff and it took me hours to talk him down. Meanwhile the mother eagle showed up and began circling over us.” Tobin grinned. “I teased Gallim for a season afterward about sounding so like a bleating sheep that the mother decided we were harmless and went to look elsewhere.”

We stopped briefly for a cold noon meal, and to change horses. Tobin stayed close, and gave me a smile that was almost proud when I swung up easily into the mare’s saddle. His bright grin, and joke about sacks of potatoes having more grace, were my reward. And we rode on again, with Tobin still animated and at ease at my side.

I could have listened to Tobin forever, hearing the adventurous boy I’d known echoed in the deep tones of the man. But bit by bit, whenever we slowed enough for conversation, he began to drag out my story too. Not the hard parts. We each shied away from moments that cut too deep. When I said how I respected Meldov’s passion for languages, and then reflected on where that dragged him down to, Tobin was quick with a funny story about a loose girth. When Tobin talked about a friend who’d fought beside him, and said, “He fell,” in a thick voice and paused, I filled in with the time Dag set the market basket down and a mouse got in, only to leap out at me when I unpacked it in my kitchen. The day passed faster than I ever would have expected.

The king pressed forward until the sky was dark and it was hard to see the men ahead of me. When Tobin finally led the way to our space in the camp, I once more fell off Bess more than dismounted. Tobin caught my arm and I leaned against him for a moment. “You’re doing well,” he said. “This speed is taxing everyone.”