It was quiet here, but there had been fighting. Men of both armies lay dead in the streets, and Tobin saw several Harrier wizards and guards among the dead.
“I didn’t think you could kill them!” Alben exclaimed, giving a dead wizard a wide berth.
“You can kill most wizards easily enough.” Iya paused and held her hand over what remained of the dead man’s face. After a moment she shook her head contemptuously. “Most of these white-robes are just bullies who’ve learned to hunt in packs. They intimidate and torture those weaker than themselves like wolves chasing down a sick deer. They’re good for little else.”
“You’re speaking treason, Mistress,” Korin warned. “I tell you that as someone who owes you his life, but you must be careful.”
“Forgive me, my prince.” Iya tapped the numbered brooch at her throat. “I know better than you how dangerous it is to speak against your father’s wizards. I’ll presume once more, though, and tell you that his fears are misplaced. The wizards and priests who’ve died were as loyal to Skala as you or I. We’re fighting for Ero even now. I hope you’ll remember that later on.”
Korin gave her a curt nod, but said nothing.
The upper wards were untouched, but from their vantage point Tobin could see that much of the lower city was burning, the flames spread by the marauders and the wind.
As the Palatine gate came into sight ahead of them Iya motioned for Ki to go on ahead and drew Tobin aside. “Keep close to your friends,” she whispered. “Your hour is coming and this is the sign. The Afran Oracle showed me, though I did not understand at the time. Keep the doll with you. Don’t be parted from it!”
Tobin swallowed hard. “It’s at the keep.”
“What? Tobin, what possessed you—”
“My mother took it back.”
Iya shook her head. “I see. I’ll do what I can, then.” She looked around quickly, then whispered, “Keep Koni by you at all costs. Don’t let him out of your sight, do you hear?”
“Koni?” The young fletcher was one of Tobin’s favorites among his guard, but Iya had never shown any interest in the man before.
“I have to leave you now. Remember all I’ve said.” And she was gone, as if the earth had swallowed her.
“Iya?” Tobin whispered, looking around in alarm. “Iya, I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t know what to do!”
But she was gone and some of the others were looking back at him, wondering why he’d lagged behind. Tobin ran to catch up.
“Funny, her showing up like that just when she was needed, and gone just as fast, eh?” said Ki.
“There you are!” Koni exclaimed, falling in beside them. Tobin wanted to ask if Iya had spoken to him, too, but didn’t dare with so many others listening. “I lost you once down there on the walls. I don’t mean to again.”
“Or me,” said Tharin, looking more haggard than Tobin had ever seen him. “That was a bad moment, back there.” He shot a quick look at Korin and lowered his voice. “Keep your eye on me during the next fight.”
“I will.” It still hurt to think ill of Korin, but he’d seen it for himself this time, the hesitation Ahra had spoken of. It had nearly cost them their lives.
51
“How is my father?” Korin demanded of the guards at the Palatine gate.
“Wounded, my prince,” the sergeant told him. “He sent word to tell you that he’s in the summer pavilion near the temple. You’re to go to him at once.”
The Palatine was crowded with the wounded and refugees from the lower wards, and with livestock driven there in case of siege. Goats and sheep bleated at them from villa gardens, and pigs were rooting along the elm-lined avenue beyond the gate.
Scattered cheers greeted the Companions as they hurried on. The palaces and most of the villas were dark as Mourning Night, but watch fires burned everywhere. The open grounds and gardens where they’d trained now looked like a battlefield. People huddled around fires, cloaks pulled over their heads against the rain. The smells of smoke and cooking were heavy on the air. Tobin could hear children crying in the dark, horses nickering, and, on all sides, the steady murmur of worried talk.
The pavilion was brightly lit. Inside, officers and nobles milled about nervously, keeping a hushed watch.
A smaller group was gathered around a table at the center of the enclosure. The other Companions hung back as Tobin and Korin went to join them.
“My princes, thank the Four!” Hylus called, as they approached. “We feared you were lost.”
Erius lay on a table, his face white, eyes closed. He was naked from the waist up and Tobin saw that his right side was badly bruised, and his arm splinted. The Sword of Ghërilain lay at his left side, the blade black with blood.
General Rheynaris was with him, and Niryn stood at the foot of the table, looking grave. Officers and servants stood close by and Tobin saw Moriel among them. He was dressed for battle and his surcoat was stained with soot and blood. He met Tobin’s eye and saluted him. Surprised, Tobin nodded at him, then turned back to the king.
Korin’s face was pale in the firelight as he leaned over his father. “What happened?”
“A necromancer’s spell struck the wall near us soon after we last saw you, my prince,” Rheynaris replied. His face was bloody and his left eye was swollen shut. “It shattered the wall and fragments struck your father down.”
Korin clasped the king’s good hand. “Will he live?”
“Yes, my prince,” a grey-haired drysian replied.
“Of course I will,” Erius rumbled, opening his eyes. “Korin—What news in the city?”
Rheynaris caught the prince’s eye and shook his head.
“The fight goes on, Father,” Korin told him.
Erius nodded and closed his eyes again.
Tobin stood with them for a while, then went back to join the others around one of the braziers near the stairs.
They’d been there for some time when a familiar voice cried out, “There they are. They’re alive!”
Nikides and Lutha emerged from the crowd below and ran to embrace Tobin and Ki. Barieus was with them, but there was no sign of Ruan. They were as filthy as everyone else, but appeared to be unhurt.
“We thought you’d died with Zusthra at the gates!” Tobin replied, relieved beyond words to see his friends alive.
“Where’s Ruan?” asked Ki.
“Dead,” Nikides said, and his voice was hoarse with emotion. “A Plenimaran came at me from behind and Ruan got between us. He saved my life.”
Ki sat down heavily on the steps beside Lynx. Barieus sat with him and pulled his cloak over his head.
“Oh Nik, I’m sorry. He died a hero,” Tobin said, but the words were hollow. “Orneus is dead, too.”
“Poor Lynx.” Lutha shook his head. “That’s three more of us gone.”
The drysians must have done their work well, for when they’d finished the king refused to be carried to the palace, but instead demanded a chair be brought. Moriel and Rheynaris helped him into it and Korin placed the Sword of Ghërilain across his father’s knees. Niryn and Hylus stood behind the makeshift throne like sentinels.
Erius leaned heavily on the arm of the chair, fighting for breath. Erius gestured for Korin to kneel by his side and they spoke for a while in low voices. The king gestured to Niryn, Rheynaris, and Hylus to join them, and the debate went on.
“What’s going on?” Tobin whispered to Nikides. “Your grandfather looks worried.”
“The reports are bad. Our warriors managed to block the east gate again, but there are still Plenimarans loose in the lower wards, and word came in a while ago that another group has broken through at the south gate. Their necromancers are worse than any of the stories. The Harriers are all but useless against them.”
Lutha glanced over at Niryn. “Seems all they’re good for is burning wizards and hanging priests.”