The Bone Doll's Twin (50 page)

The rest in the company were the children of Skalan nobility and foreign dignitaries. The young men and boys wore elaborate tunics and jeweled daggers and rings. The dozen or so girls at the table wore gowns decorated with wide bands of embroidery, and strands of ribbon or jewels twisted into their hair under gauzy veils. Tobin couldn’t keep track of all the names and titles. He did sit forward and take note, however, when a dark-haired boy was introduced as an Aurënfaie from Gedre. Tobin had over
looked him before, for he was dressed like the rest, and wore no sen’gai.

“Gedre? You’re Aurënfaie?”

“Yes. I’m Arengil ì Maren Ortheil Solun Gedre, son of the Gedre Khirnari. Welcome, Prince Tobin ì Rhius.”

One of the older girls leaned in beside Tobin, resting an arm across the back of his chair. She had thick auburn hair and a mix of freckles and pimples across her sharp chin. Tobin struggled to recall her name. Aliya something, a duke’s daughter. Her green gown was embroidered with pearls and showed the first hint of a womanly form. “The ’faie love their long, fancy names,” she said with a smirk. “I’ll bet you a sester you can’t guess Ari’s age.”

Everyone groaned, including Korin. “Aliya, let him be!”

She pouted at him. “Oh, let him guess. He’s probably never even seen a ’faie before.”

The Aurënfaie boy sighed and rested his chin on one hand. “Go on,” he offered.

Tobin had seen a few ’faie, and learned a great deal more from his father and Arkoniel. This boy looked to be about Ki’s age. “Twenty-nine?” he guessed.

Ari’s eyebrows flew up. “Twenty-five, but that’s closer than most get it.”

Everyone laughed as Aliya slapped a coin down in front of Tobin’s trencher and flounced away.

“Don’t mind her,” chuckled Korin, quite drunk now. “She’s gone sour ever since her brother went to Mycena.” He sighed and waved a hand around at the company. “So have we all. All the older boys are gone except for me and those unfortunate enough to be my Companions. We’d all be in the field now if there were a second heir to take my place. It would be different if my brothers and sisters had lived.” He took a long swig from his mazer, then scowled unhappily at Tobin over the rim. “Why, if my sisters had lived, Skala could have her queen back as the moon priests would have it, but all they have is me. So I have to stay wrapped in silk here, safely kept by to rule.” Korin
slumped back in his chair, staring morosely into his cup. “An heir to spare, that’s what we’re lacking. A spare heir—”

“We’ve all heard that one, Korin,” Caliel chided, nudging the prince. “Maybe we should tell him about the palace ghosts instead?”

“Ghosts?” Korin brightened at this. “By the Four, we have buckets of them! Half of ’em are Grandmama Agnalain’s old consorts she poisoned or beheaded. Isn’t that so, squires?”

The squires chorused their agreement and Tobin saw Ki’s eyes widen a bit.

“And the old mad queen herself,” Zusthra added, scratching sagely at his thin, coppery beard. “She wanders the corridors at night in her armor. You can hear the drag of her bad leg as she goes up and down, looking for traitors. She’s been known to grab up grown men and carry them to the torture chambers beneath the Palace, where she locks them up in her rusty old cages to starve.”

“What of that ghost of yours, cousin—” Korin began, but Porion cleared his throat.

“Your Highness, Prince Tobin has had a weary journey today. You shouldn’t keep him so late, his first night here.”

Korin leaned close to Tobin. His breath was sour with wine and his words were slurred. “Poor coz! Would you? Would you like to find your bed? You’re in my dead brother’s room, you know. There might be ghosts, there, too, but you shouldn’t mind that. Elarin was a sweet lad—”

Porion was behind Korin’s chair now, slipping a hand under his arm. “My prince,” he murmured.

Korin glanced up at him, then turned back to Tobin with a charming smile that made him look almost sober. “Sleep well, then.”

Tobin rose and took his leave, glad to escape this crowd of drunken strangers.

The stiff-backed servant appeared with Ki on his heels
and conducted them back to their room. Porion walked with them as far as their door.

“You mustn’t judge the prince by what you saw tonight, Prince Tobin,” he said sadly. “He’s a good lad and a great warrior. That’s the problem, you see. It weighs heavily on him, not being allowed to go to war now that he’s of age. As he said, it’s a hard thing being the sole heir to the throne when his father will declare no second. Such feasts as these—” He cast a disgusted look back toward the hall. “It’s his father’s absence. Well, when he’s fresh tomorrow he’ll make you a better welcome. You’re to be presented to Lord Chancellor Hylus at the audience chamber in the morning. Come out to the training grounds after that so I can have a look at your skills and equipage. I understand you have no proper armor.”

“No.”

“I’ll see to that. Rest well, my prince, and welcome. I’d like to say, too, that I remember your father as a fine man and a great warrior. I mourn your loss.”

“Thank you, Arms Master,” said Tobin. “And thank you for keeping Ki as my squire.”

Porion gave him a wink. “An old friend of yours had a word with me, just after you arrived.”

Tobin gave him a blank look, then laughed. “Tharin?”

Porion held a finger to his lips, but nodded. “I don’t know what Orun was thinking. A father’s choice of squire can’t be put aside like that.”

“Then it wasn’t my answer?” asked Ki, a little crestfallen.

“You were both right,” Porion replied. “And you might try to smooth Moriel’s feathers if you get the chance. He knows the Palatine and the city. Good night, boys, and welcome.”

Servants had lit a dozen lamps around the room and carried in a copper tub full of hot scented water. A young page stood by the bed and a young man stood ready with brushes and sheets, apparently waiting to bathe Tobin.

He sent both servants away, then stripped off and slid into the bath with a happy groan. Hot baths had been a rare occurrence at the keep. He was nearly asleep with his nose just above the water’s surface when he heard Ki let out a cackle across the room.

“No wonder Moriel had his nose out of joint,” he called, holding back the curtains of the wall bed. All the fine bedding was gone. “He must have had himself all moved in anticipation of your majesty’s arrival. All he’s left me is a bare straw tick. And, by the smell, he pissed on it as a parting remembrance, the little bastard!”

Tobin sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees. It hadn’t occurred to him that they’d sleep apart, much less in such a cavern of a room.

“Sure is a big room,” Ki muttered, looking around.

Tobin grinned, guessing his friend was having similar doubts. “Big bed, too. Plenty of room for two.”

“I’d say so. I’ll go unpack Your Highness’ bags,” Ki said, chuckling.

Tobin was about to settle back in the tub when he remembered the doll hidden in the bottom of the chest.

“No!”

Ki snorted. “It’s my duty, Tob. Let me do it.”

“It can wait. The water will get cold if you don’t get in now. Come on, your turn.”

Tobin splashed out of the tub and wrapped himself in one of the sheets.

Ki eyed him suspiciously. “You’re as fussy as Nari all of a sudden. Then again—” He sniffed comically at his armpits. “I do stink.”

As soon as Ki had taken his place in the tub Tobin hurried into the dressing room and flung open the chest.

“I said I’d do that!” Ki hollered.

“I need a shirt.” Tobin pulled on a clean one, then dug out the flour sack and looked around for a safe hiding place. A painted wardrobe and several chests stood
against one wall. On the other side was a tall cupboard that reached almost to the ceiling. By opening the doors, he could use the shelves inside as a creaking, cracking ladder. There was just enough space at the top to hide the bag. That would do for now.

Climbing back down, he had just time enough to shut the doors and brush the cobwebs off his shirt before Ki sauntered in wrapped in a sheet.

“What are you doing in here, taking the roof off?”

“Just exploring.”

Ki eyed him again, then looked nervously over his shoulder. “Do you think there are really ghosts here?”

Tobin walked back into the bedchamber. “If there are, then they’re my kin, like Brother. You’re not afraid of him anymore, are you?”

Ki shrugged, then thrust his arms up and yawned until his jaws creaked, letting the sheet slide to the floor. “We better get some sleep. Once Master Porion gets a hold of us tomorrow, I’m betting he doesn’t let us stand still long enough to cast a shadow.”

“I like him.”

Ki flung back the black hangings on the bed and launched himself into a somersault across the velvet counterpane. “I didn’t say I didn’t. I just think he’s going to work us as hard as Tharin ever did. That’s what the other squires say, anyway.”

Tobin did a back flip of his own and landed beside his friend.

“What are they like?”

“The other squires? Hard to say yet. They were mostly drunk and they didn’t say much to me, except for Korin’s squire, Tanil. He’s a duke’s first son and seems a nice enough fellow. So does Barieus, squire to that little fellow who looks like a rat.”

“Lutha.”

“That’s the one.”

“But not the others?”

Ki shrugged. “Too soon to say, I guess. All the others are the second or third sons of high lords—”

It was too dark inside the hangings to make out his friend’s expression, but there was something troubling in his tone.

“Well, you’re a knight now. And I’m going to have you made a lord as soon as I can and give you an estate,” Tobin told him. “I’ve been thinking about it all day. Arkoniel says I’ll have to wait until I’m of age, but I don’t want to wait that long. When the king comes back I’m going to ask him how I can do it.”

Ki rose up on one elbow and stared down at him. “You’d do that, wouldn’t you? Just like that.”

“Well, of course!” Tobin grinned up at him. “Just try not to breed so much that your grandchildren end up sleeping in a heap on the floor again.”

Ki lay back and folded his hands behind his head. “I don’t know. From what I saw back home, breeding is great fun. And I saw some pretty girls at that banquet tonight! That one in the green dress? I wouldn’t mind having a look under her skirts, would you?”

“Ki!”

Ki shrugged and stroked his faint moustache, smiling to himself. He was soon snoring, but Tobin lay awake for some time, listening to the ongoing revels echoing outside the window. He’d never seen anyone drunk at the keep. It made him nervous.

This wasn’t what he’d looked for, all those years staring down the Alestun road. He was a warrior, not a courtier, drinking wine half the night in fancy clothes. With girls!

He frowned over at Ki’s peaceful profile. The soft down covering his cheeks caught the faint light coming in through the hangings. Tobin rubbed at his own smooth cheeks and sighed. He and Ki were the same height, but his shoulders were still narrow and his skin still bare of
the spots and stray hairs that Ki was developing. He tossed a while longer, then realized that he’d forgotten all about Brother.

Barely moving his lips, he whispered the words. Brother appeared crouching on the end of the bed, face as inscrutable as ever.

“You mustn’t go wandering about,” he told him. “Stay close and do as I ask. It isn’t safe here.”

To his amazement, Brother nodded. Crawling slowly up the bed, he touched Tobin’s chest, then his own, and settled back at the end of the bed.

Tobin lay back and yawned. It was comforting having someone else from home here, even if it was only a ghost.

A
t the New Palace, in a wing adjoining the king’s own now-empty rooms, the wizard Niryn stirred in his sleep, disturbed by a half-formed image that would not quite take shape.

T
obin woke at sunrise and lay listening to the new morning sounds outside. He could hear crowds of people laughing and talking and whispering loudly just outside the door. From the open balcony came the sounds of riders and birds, splashing water, and the distant cacophony of the waking city. Even here, the scent of flowers and pines could not mask the rising stink of the place carried in on the warm sea breeze. Had it really only been a day ago that he’d woken in his own bed? He sighed and shook off the wave of homesickness that threatened to overwhelm him.

Ki was a softly snoring lump on the far side of the bed. Tobin tossed a pillow at him, then rolled out between the heavy curtains and went to have a look outside.

It was another clear summer day. From here he could see over the Palatine wall to the southern city and the sea. It was incredible. With the mist rising off the water and the sun slanting low as it rose, it was hard to tell where the sky stopped and the sea began. In the wash of dawn, Ero appeared to be made of fire, trees and all.

Outside his window, a colorful garden stretched away to the belt of elms he’d ridden past the night before. There were already servants at work with shears and baskets, like bees in the meadow at home.

To either side he could see other balconies, pillars, and the jut of tiled roofs with fancy cornices and bits of sculpture on top.

“I bet we could go all the way from the Old Palace to the New over the roofs,” Ki said, coming up behind him.

“You can,” a girl’s voice agreed, seeming to come from the air over their heads.

Both boys whirled and looked up just in time to see a dark-haired blur of motion disappear beyond the eaves above their balcony. Only the rapidly fading scuffle of feet over tiles betrayed their visitor’s retreat.

“Who was that?” laughed Ki, looking for a way to follow.

Before they could find an easy way up, a young manservant came in, followed by an entourage of others laden with clothes and packages. He went to the bed, then spied them on the balcony and bowed deeply.

“Good morning, my prince. I am to be your manservant at the Palace. My name is Molay. And these—” He indicated the line of laden servants behind him. “They all come bearing gifts from your noble kin and admirers.”