Garranon lay on the bed, which was made up with unfamiliar ticks and bedcovers, and stared at the painted ceiling two stories above the floor.
It was only pride, he told himself. Oranstone would survive without him to soften the king's orders, but it was natural to fret that it could not survive without him. He would not miss Jakoven. His hands clenched in fists.
When the bed sank underneath the weight of another occupant, he put out his hand to pet the soft pelt of the Tamerlain without looking away from the star-and-moon-covered ceiling.
"Thank you for helping Ward," he said. "He was magnificent—I thought Jade Eyes would drop dead of flouted spite."
She purred and rubbed her broad face against his shoulder before settling against him. "What troubles you?"
He laughed without humor. "I do." He rubbed his hand over the unfamiliar coverlet. To her he could say what he could not admit to himself. "I hate him, so why does leaving him hurt so much?"
She was quiet for a minute and then said, "You've been Jakoven's lover for twenty years."
"Nineteen."
"More than half your life. It should feel strange to leave it behind."
He smiled at her.
"Perhaps," she said slowly, "you need to find out who he is putting in these rooms. It might help you either way. Yes, I think that might be a good idea."
The Tamerlain rolled off the bed and said, "Come."
She led him through the familiar passage between his rooms and the king's, stopping before the panels of wood that opened into the king's chambers.
"Shh—they won't see us, but noise is harder to mask," she said, and huffed at the panel, which shimmered and then dissolved before her. When she stepped forward, Garranon followed.
The passage opened into the king's receiving room. The only furniture it contained was the king's chair, which sat on a dais so the king, when he was seated, was the same height as a standing man.
Jakoven sat in his chair, while Jade Eyes, wearing only a sea-blue night wrap, leaned against it. On the strip of carpet in front of the dais, a guardsman held a struggling boy. All were apparently unaware that Garranon and the Tamerlain were watching them.
The child was tidy, but there was only so much soap and water could do to the dirt of years. His skin was gray and his hair was so neatly trimmed it had to have just been done. It was cut almost to his scalp—most likely to get rid of the pests that infested the lower population of Estian. Hunger gave him the face of a much older person, though Garranon reckoned his age to be around ten or twelve.
He hadn't felt as young as this boy looked when he was twelve, and one of the king's soldiers had presented him and his younger brother to the king in a scene very similar to this one.
"Hold him still," ordered Jakoven. The excited tremolo in his voice brought Garranon to alert as the guardsman wrapped an arm around the boy and gripped his jaw, forcing the boy to stare at the king.
"Hurog blue," said the king, satisfaction in his tone. "Your lord will be rewarded as I promised. Jade Eyes, take the boy for me."
The king's mage took the boy ungently by the arm and the guardsman left. The boy jerked once, then cried out and went still when Jade Eyes shifted his grip.
"A little scrawny, isn't he?" said Jade Eyes distastefully.
"We'll feed him up," said Jakoven, leaving his chair.
"Boy," he said in a velvet tone as familiar to Garranon as his own voice. "Give me your name."
"Won't," said the boy, spitting on the floor.
Jakoven smiled and touched the boy's thin cheek. Garranon saw nothing, but Jade Eyes dropped his hands and stepped away.
Magic, thought Garranon.
The boy stood still, held captive by the touch of Jakoven's finger. His face was blank and empty.
Vekke's breath, thought Garranon. He remembered that, remembered the king holding him with nothing more than his touch. He hadn't realized it was magic Jakoven had used. Not until he saw the king use it on another boy.
"Give me your name, boy."
"Tychis." His consonants were thick with the accents of the Estian slums.
"Who was your mother?"
"Illeya of Hurog."
"Do you know your father?"
The boy's body began to vibrate with tension, shaking as he fought not to answer. "Fenwick of Hurog."
"What relation was he to your mother."
Tears spilled down the boy's face. "My mother was his uncle's get."
Jade Eyes' lip curled in contempt. Jakoven saw it and smiled. "It may be incest here, but in Shavig, next cousins often marry if there is no weakness in the family. The old bastard probably saw nothing wrong in sleeping with his cousin—and he left us this boy with the blood of dragons running through his veins from both sides. It wasn't strong enough in the young Hurogmeten—that's why the Bane only turned blue instead of red. I think this boy's blood is the key to loosing Farsonsbane."
The king smiled pleasantly at Jade Eyes and shook his head. "You will not allow your attitude over his parentage to trouble this boy."
Jade Eyes read the king's tone as well as Garranon did and nodded obediently. Jakoven turned his attention back to the boy.
"Tychis, you will be loyal to me above all else and serve me."
"I will be loyal," said the boy dully.
"Some things that are done to you, you will hate. Others may give you pleasure. But you will serve me and do as I command."
"I serve you."
Gods, oh gods. Garranon found the memory of those words in his soul. How long have I followed those commands? Do I still?
The king pulled his hand away. "Take him into the green rooms, Jade Eyes. Go with him, boy, you'll find a bed there. Sleep until I awake you."
Garranon glanced at the passage doors behind him to see that the passageway looked as solid as if the Tamerlain had never dismissed it. He stood to the side as Jade Eyes and the boy walked past him, opened the door, and entered the short passage without seeing Garranon or the Tamerlain, though Garranon could have reached out and touched Jade Eyes's robe.
"I've only been able to get that spell to work on a dog," commented Jade Eyes, returning to the audience chamber without the boy. He closed the door to the passage behind him. "I quit using it because the dog's devotion became so annoying, I had to kill it."
Jakoven smiled. "You'll notice I didn't tell him to love me. Hatred is so much more entertaining."
Garranon stared at Jakoven and knew that the king meant him. And that knowledge took his understanding of the whole of his life and twisted it. He didn't hear what else Jakoven and Jade Eyes said before they entered the king's private chambers, closing the door behind them.
"Garranon," said the Tamerlain impatiently, though softly, so her voice didn't carry into the room beyond.
He turned to her.
She said, "The spell isn't as strong as he thinks it is. It would not hold an adult as it does a child who is weak and frightened—or hurt as you were. But the remnants of the spell might make you sad at leaving his service, even after all this time."
Garranon thought of his most terrible secret and shuddered. "Did I tell him anything—is that why Callis fell?"
"He didn't ask for information from you," she said. "You told him nothing because he asked nothing of you. The concept of using children as messengers never occurred to the Tallvenish. Oranstone simply never had a chance against the armies Jakoven's father brought against it."
Garranon nodded and went through the passageway that led to his former rooms. The boy slept on top of the covers, his face peaceful.
"What will you do?" asked the Tamerlain.
"How long was I in thrall to Jakoven?" Garranon asked.
"Four years," she said. "Almost five."
He deliberately stared at the boy, because the answers to the next questions mattered greatly to him, and he didn't want her to know how much.