The Bone Doll's Twin (49 page)

When they were finished Ki looked around the crowded chamber and whistled. “Are these all your kin?”

“If they’re here, then I suppose they must be.”

“I wonder why there are so many more women than men. You’d think with a war on and all, it’d be just the other way around.”

Tobin saw that Ki was right, though he’d taken no
notice of it before. While there were a number of jars like the one he held, there were many more cloth-wrapped bodies with braids, and not all of them were grown women, either; he counted at least a dozen girls and babes.

“Come on,” he sighed, too weary of death to concern himself with strangers.

“Wait,” said Tharin. “It’s customary to take a lock of hair as a remembrance. Would you like me to cut one for you?”

Tobin raised a hand absently to his lips as he considered this, and his fingers lingered on the small faded scar on his chin. “Another time, perhaps. Not now.”

A
fter leaving the tomb, Lord Orun led them back the way they’d come and turned onto an avenue that took them past open riding grounds bounded by more trees. The moon was high now and cast a pale glow over their surroundings.

This part of the Palatine was a shadowed jumble of gardens and flat rooflines. Tobin caught the shimmer of water in the distance; there was a large artificial pond here, built by one of the queens. In front of them, past more trees, he could see a rambling, uneven mass of roofs bulking low on the eastern side of the walled citadel.

“That’s the New Palace there,” Tharin explained, pointing to the longest silhouette to their left, “and that directly in front of us is the Old. All around them is a rabbit’s warren of other palaces and houses, but you won’t have to concern yourself with those for now. When you get settled in, I’ll bring you to your mother’s house.”

Tobin was too exhausted to register more than an impression of gardens and colonnades. “I wish I could live there.”

“You will, when you’re grown.”

The entrance of the Old Palace loomed before them out of the darkness, flanked by huge columns, flaring torches, and a line of guards in black and white tunics.

Tobin clasped hands with Tharin, fighting back tears.

“Be brave, my prince,” Tharin said softly. “Ki, make me proud.”

The moment of parting couldn’t be put off any longer. Tharin and the others saluted him and rode off into the
darkness. Strangers in livery surged in around them, anxious to take charge of their baggage and horses.

Lord Orun swooped in as soon as Tharin was out of the way.

“Come along, Prince Tobin, Prince Korin mustn’t be kept waiting any longer. You, boy.” This to Ki. “Fetch the prince’s baggage!”

Ki waited until the man’s back was turned and made him an obscene salute. Tobin gave him a grateful grin. So did several of the palace servants.

Orun hurried them up the stairs, where more servants in long white and gold livery met them at a huge set of bronze doors covered with rampant dragons. Inside, a stiff-backed servant with a white beard led them down a long corridor inside.

Tobin looked around, round-eyed. The walls were painted with wonderful glowing patterns, and in the center of the broad stone corridor there was a shallow pool where colorful fish swam among tinkling fountains. He’d never imagined such grandeur.

They passed through a series of huge rooms with ceilings so high they were lost in shadow. The walls were covered in more faded but wonderful murals and the furnishings were wonders of carving and inlay work. There were gold and jewels everywhere he looked. Bowed under a load of bags, Ki appeared equally awed.

After several more turns, the old man opened a creaking black door and ushered Tobin into an airy bedchamber half the size of the great hall back at the keep. A tall bed with hangings of black and gold stood on a raised platform in the center of the room. Past that, a balcony overlooked the city beyond. The walls were painted with faded hunting scenes. The room smelled nicely of the sea and the tall pines visible outside the window.

“This is your room, Prince Tobin,” the man informed him. “Prince Korin occupies the next chamber.”

Ki stood gaping until the man showed him to a second,
smaller room at the back where wardrobes and chests stood. Next to this was an alcove containing a second bed built into the wall like a shelf. It was made up with rich bedding, too, but reminded Tobin too much of the place where his mother had been laid.

Orun hustled them out again and they followed the sound of music and boisterous laughter to an even larger chamber filled with performers of all sorts. There were minstrels, half-naked tumblers, jugglers tossing balls, knives, burning torches—even hedgehogs—and a girl in a silken shift dancing with a bear she led on a silver chain. A glittering company of youths and girls sat on a raised dais on a balcony at the far end of the room. The least of them was dressed more finely than Tobin ever had been in his life. Suddenly he was aware of the thick coating of dust on his clothes.

The diners didn’t seem to be paying the entertainers much mind, but sat talking and jesting among themselves over the wreckage of their feast. Servants went among them with platters and pitchers.

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 nutshells, 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.