The stable master frowned. "I'll ride with ye for a bit, if ye need a spare hand. I have an aunt in the south who could take a turn for the worse at any moment."
Garranon settled his burden in front of him and organized his hands until he could control both horses, then shook his head. "Best if you are not caught up in this any further. I'm not sure I'll survive this one with my head on my shoulders."
"Jade Eyes," said the stable master firmly. "He's evil, he is. Don't see what the king sees in him."
Garranon gave him a faint smile and walked his horses out of the stable. The guards at the entry towers opened the gates without challenging him—as they had on other such occasions. Garranon nodded at them and hoped no one would suffer for the ease of his departure. The Tamerlain kept her distance and didn't speak until they were out of the city.
"There's no need to travel all the way to Hurog," she said. "The Hurogmeten has been camped at Menogue since he left Estian, to give him time to recover from his imprisonment. Aethervon gave him dreams so he would know to look for the boy."
Without a word, Garranon turned his horse's head down the less traveled way leading to the old temple.
"It doesn't matter where you go," she said. "He's a Finder. He'll locate you."
On the tail of her words a red mare cantered into view bearing Ward of Hurog—looking much better than he had when he'd confronted the king in court. When he saw Garranon, he stopped and waited for the Shavigman to approach.
"Hurogmeten," acknowledged Garranon. "I have a gift for you—I believe he's your half brother. He calls himself Tychis."
The big red mare flared her nostrils at his horse and ignored the Tamerlain. Ward rode close and touched the sleeping face with a look of relief.
"That's two my house owes yours," he said.
Garranon shook his head. "I think the debt still lies in the other direction. My actions have hurt you more than I've been able to help. Take him." He glanced down at the Tamerlain, but he couldn't tell if Ward could see her, so he said, "I think he'll wake in a little bit," rather than explain her part in the boy's recovery. Even now he protected her secrets. "He might be a little disoriented and a lot hostile, but you need to get him away from Estian."
"He is my brother," answered Ward peacefully. "My brother Tychis. He belongs at Hurog." He looked at Garranon a moment, and the Oranstonian had trouble seeing behind the affable mask to the thoughts running through the Hurogmeten's head.
"How stands your favor with the king?"
Garranon shrugged. "About as high as any man who might accuse Jakoven of being a pedophile. No. Lower than that, since I stole the boy who would be instrumental—I don't want to know how—in allowing Jakoven to use Farsonsbane."
Ward didn't flinch, so Garranon knew that the Hurogmeten knew about the Bane.
"About where I do, then," said Ward. He watched Garranon for moment and asked softly, "How stands the king in your favor?"
Garranon looked away. "As always," he managed finally. "You'd better take him and ride—I have an extra horse for him. I don't know when the king'll think to send someone to find him. You may have half a day, maybe only half an hour."
Ward shrugged and said, "What would you do if you had a knife and found the king asleep in a back alley with no witnesses?"
Garranon didn't answer, but Ward smiled, and rode his horse around to take the reins of the extra gelding, leaving the boy in Garranon's arms.
"Then come with us to Hurog," he said. "It'll confuse the king a bit—I imagine he'll expect to find you on your way home to Buril. But the king won't hurt them until he has you where he wants you. They'll be safer if you're not there.
"So come with us," Ward said again. "And on the way I'll try to show you why your fate—and mine—might not be as black as you think. Dark, yes. But not hopeless."
"Go," said the Tamerlain, and Ward glanced down at her.
Garranon looked at her a moment, too, then started his horse in the direction Ward had been riding.
11—WARDWICK
Home heals the heart.
I watched Garranon closely as he looked at the packed camp, glanced through the faces, and drew in a shocked breath when he saw Jakoven's brother. "Kellen?"
As I dismounted I watched expressions run across Kellen's face too fast for me to interpret, but the one that stayed was sheer pleasure.
Garranon's eyebrows rose and he turned to me and said with mock awe, "And I thought Jakoven was going to come after me with branding irons and skinning knives. All I stole was his new play toy—you took his brother."
Kellen had taken a few steps forward, but stopped cautiously at Garranon's words.
Garranon shook his head and grinned. "I thought the king might have bitten off more than he could chew when he attacked the Hurogs—but I didn't dream this big." He dismounted without disturbing his burden and handed the boy to me. "What are your plans, Kellen? Are you going to run from Jakoven and hide in the wilds of the north?" There was nothing but curiosity in Garranon's voice.
I looked down into my half brother's sleeping face and wished I'd known about him sooner—and that the only reason to keep him at Hurog was that he was my brother. It would have made his absorption into the Hurog household easier on everyone. I noticed also that there was a bandage around his wrist, and I worried about how much blood Jakoven had already taken from him.
Kellen said, "I plan on dethroning Jakoven and becoming king in his stead."
Garranon stretched his neck, first one way, then the other. I was standing close enough to hear the cracking of his spine. Then he stepped forward and fell to his knees before Kellen in a graceful, humble gesture.
"I am your man," he said.
Kellen looked momentarily taken aback, glancing at Rosem, then Tisala before pulling a regal air out from somewhere and cloaking himself in it.
"Arise, I ask no one to humble himself so before me until I hold the throne."
Garranon stood and took a good look at Kellen. "You could use a few hundred meals, my friend. But you still look much better than the last time I saw you."
Kellen glanced about. "Garranon comes—came once a week to visit me, in spite of Jakoven's disapproval. We played chess."
I remembered that all-important chessboard Oreg had destroyed, and smiled as I laid the boy on the ground. I caught Oreg's eye and he came over to check on the sleeping child. I'd begun to worry about what Tychis had been given to make him sleep this deeply. Whatever they'd done to him, I hoped Oreg could rectify it.
"Allow me," said the Tamerlain, appearing on the other side of the boy. "I know what was laid upon him, so it'll be easier for me to break it."
I felt her power rise and cover the boy, but I couldn't tell exactly what she did. The results, however, were obvious. The boy rolled to his feet, the whites of his eyes showing as he looked around them. Then, sprouting appalling Tallvenish gutterspeak that effectively stopped Kellen and Garranon's conversation and directed the attention of most of the people in the vicinity toward him, he reached down and grabbed a chunk of rock in his hand.
"Impressive," I said dryly in Tallvenish—which we'd been speaking out of courtesy to Kellen anyway. As I remembered from before his imprisonment, he could get by in the Shavig tongue, but was more comfortable in Tallvenish. "What do you think happens after you've hit one of us with the rock—assuming you can throw it hard enough to matter?"