“The men are at practice in the back court and Mistress Iya is in the guest chamber. Should I inform them of your arrival, sir?”
“No, I’ll just sit here.” The steward bowed and left him.
Despite the fire on the hearth, the hall was cold and shadowy. Soft grey mist pressed at the windows and rain drummed on the roof above. Too miserable to sit still, Ki paced the room and fretted. How long would Tobin be? What if Orun found some reason to keep him there? Would Tharin come back to give him the news, or would he be stuck here forever with his belly in knots?
Looking up, he found himself at the bottom of the carved staircase. He’d only gone up there once, and that had been enough. Tobin’s father had abandoned that part of the house years ago; the rooms had been stripped of their furnishings and left to the mice. Ki was sure he’d felt ghosts there, leering at him from dark corners.
The duke had used the ground floor when he was in the city. Since his death, Tharin and the guard had been the only regular occupants. Tharin had a room just down the passage, and the men were quartered at the back of the house, but they kept the hall in use. It always had a homelike smell of house altar incense and embers on the hearth.
Leaving the hall, Ki wandered down the main passage. Iya’s door lay on the right, and it was closed. The duke’s old bedchamber, now Tobin’s and therefore Ki’s by default, lay to the left. He paused at the door, then went instead to the one beside it.
Tharin’s chamber was as spare and orderly as the man who lived there. His room at the keep barracks was just the same. Ki felt more at home here than anywhere else in Ero. He kindled a fire and sat down to await his fate.
But even here he couldn’t sit still, and soon he was pacing a furrow in Tharin’s carpet. The rain drummed against the windows and his thoughts raced: What will I do when Orun sends me away? Go back to Oakmount and herd pigs?
The idea of returning to his father in disgrace was unthinkable. No, he’d join Ahra’s regiment and patrol the coast, or go to the battlefields in Mycena and offer his sword as a common soldier.
Such thoughts gave no comfort. The only place he wanted to be was where he was, with Tobin.
He buried his face in his hands. This is my fault. I should never have left Tobin alone that day, knowing he was sick. A few weeks at court and I forgot everything Tharin taught me!
On the heels of that came the question he’d been trying not to ask himself ever since the night he’d followed Brother back to Alestun. What had made Tobin run all the way back there in the first place? It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Tobin’s explanation … He sighed. Well, he wanted to believe it, but something just didn’t ring true. And whatever had ailed Tobin that night, something was different between them now.
Or maybe, he thought guiltily, he felt something different from me.
The filthy accusations Mago and Arius had thrown at Ki that day in the stable, implying that he and Tobin did more than just sleep together, had cut deep. After that Ki had caught himself pulling away from Tobin sometimes. The hurt look on his friend’s face when he’d kept to his side of the bed at night came back to haunt him. Was that why Tobin had left him behind the day he ran off? I was a fool, listening to anything those lackwits had to say. In truth, with all the uproar of the past month, he’d all but forgotten it all until now. But had Tobin?
Guilt and uncertainty made his belly churn. “Well, whatever it is, he’ll tell me when he’s ready,” he muttered.
The air went cold behind him, and mean, whispery laugh raised gooseflesh on his arms. Ki spun around, reaching instinctively for the horse charm around his neck. Brother stood beside Tharin’s bed, watching him with hate-filled black eyes.
Ki’s heart knocked painfully against his ribs; the ghost looked more solid than he remembered, a starved, hollow-eyed parody of his friend. Ki thought he’d gotten used to Brother that night they’d traveled together, but all his fears came rushing back.
“Ask Arkoniel,” whispered Brother.
“Ask him what?”
Brother disappeared but his hissing laugh seemed to hang in the air where he’d been. Shaken, Ki pulled a chair closer to the fire and huddled there, feeling lonelier than ever.
Lost in his unhappy reverie, he was nearly dozing when the sound of shouting roused him. Flinging open the door, he nearly collided with Iya. They dashed to the hall and found Tharin there, holding Tobin’s limp body in his arms.
“What happened?” Iya demanded.
“His chamber, Ki,” Tharin ordered, ignoring her. “Open the door.”
“I have a fire lit in yours.” Ki ran ahead and turned down Tharin’s bed. Tharin laid Tobin down gently and began chafing his wrists. Tobin was breathing, but his face was drawn and beaded with sweat.
“What did Orun do to him?” Ki growled. “I’ll kill him. I don’t care if they burn me alive for it!”
“Mind your tongue, Ki.” Tharin turned to the servants and soldiers crowding in the doorway. “Koni, ride to the grove for a drysian. Don’t stand there staring, man, go! Laris, you set a guard on all doors. No one enters except members of the royal household. And fetch Bisir. I want him here now!”
The old sergeant saluted, fist to chest. “Right away, Captain.”
“Ulies, fetch a basin of water,” Iya said calmly. “The rest of you make yourselves useful or get out of the way.”
The others scattered and Tharin sank into a chair by the bed, cradling his head in his hands.
“Close the door, Ki.” Iya bent over Tharin and gripped his shoulder. “Tell us what happened.”
Tharin shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. Bisir took him upstairs, to Orun’s chamber. A while later Lord Niryn arrived with a message from the king. He soon came down again and I thought Tobin would follow. But he didn’t. Then I heard Bisir cry out. When I got upstairs, Orun was dead and Tobin was lying senseless on the floor. I couldn’t wake him, so I carried him back here.”
Iya undid the lacings of Tobin’s tunic and her face darkened ominously. “Look. These marks are fresh.”
She opened the linen shirt beneath, showing Tharin and Ki long red marks already darkening to bruises on Tobin’s throat. A thin abrasion on the left side of his neck was beaded with droplets of drying blood. “Did you notice any marks on Orun?”
“I didn’t stop to look.”
“We’ll find who did this,” Ki growled. “We’ll find him and we’ll kill him.”
Tharin gave him an unreadable look and Ki shut his mouth. If it hadn’t been for his foolishness, Tobin wouldn’t have been with Orun today at all.
Ulies returned with the basin, and Tharin took it from him. “Send someone for Chancellor Hylus and Lord Niryn.”
“No need for that.” The wizard stepped in and approached the bed with every appearance of concern. “A servant came after me with the news. How is the prince? He was perfectly well when I left them. They both were.”
Without thinking, Ki blocked his way before he could reach Tobin. Niryn’s eyes locked with his. Ki felt a nasty chill but he stood his ground.
“If you please, my lord, I’d rather we waited for the drysians before we disturb him,” Iya said, standing by Ki. She spoke respectfully, but Ki sensed it was not a request.
“Of course. Most wise.” Niryn took the chair by the hearth. Ki stationed himself at the foot of the bed, keeping a surreptitious eye on the wizard. Tobin had always been scared of Niryn, which was reason enough for Ki to distrust him. And now he was, by his own admission, the last person to see Orun and Tobin before they were struck down. Or so he claimed.
Niryn caught him looking and smiled. Another nasty, slithery feeling went through Ki and he hastily averted his eyes.