Lynn Flewelling - The Oracle's Queen

Tamír gave him a wry look. “I know, Ki. You were right about him all along, but I still say there’s good in him, too. Once we know where he is, I’ll call for a parley. There’s got to be some way to resolve this, short of war!”

“I admit I don’t much like the idea of facing friends on the battlefield. Not even Alben or Mago. Well, maybe Mago.”

That earned him a fleeting grin. Ki stood up and reached for the dry flannel by the tub, noting how she averted her eyes. He quickly wrapped the cloth around his waist and looked around for something to put on besides his own filthy clothes.

Someone had laid out clean garments for him, too. The long linen shirt had white silk embroidery around the neck and gathered cuffs. He pulled it over his head, then stood there with the breeches in his hand, unsure what to do next.

He looked up at Tamír again and saw the same confusion. They both wanted this to be simple, like nothing had changed.

She shrugged, not quite looking at him. “Stay?”

“All right.” But he pulled on the breeches anyway, then blew out all but one lamp. He returned uncertainly to the bed, wondering if he should sleep on the floor with Baldus. Tamír was under the covers now, with the coverlet pulled up to her nose. He could just see her dark eyes watching him expectantly.

Still uncertain, he wrapped himself in a spare blanket and settled on the far edge of the bed. They lay facing each other, faces half-shadowed in the soft glow of the night lamp. Less than two arms span separated them, but it felt like a mile.

After a moment, Tamír reached out to him. He laced his fingers with hers, glad of the contact. Her fingers were warm and sun-browned from days in the saddle, not soft and pale like the girls he’d bedded. Those hands had trembled, or caressed. Tamír held his hand firm and sure, same as always. It made Ki feel very odd inside, even as he watched her eyes drift shut and her face relax in sleep. With her face pressed into the pillow and her hair spilled across her cheek like that, she looked like Tobin again.

He waited until he was certain she was really asleep, then let go of her hand and rolled on his back, teetering on the edge of the mattress and longing for the nights when they’d so innocently slept warm in each other’s arms.

In the dream she was still Tobin who’d lived at the keep, and the tower door was never locked .

He climbed the stairs to his mother’s ruined sitting room at the top and found Brother waiting for him. Hand in hand, the twins climbed onto the ledge of the window that looked west toward the mountains. Between the tips of his boots, Tobin saw the river below, surging black beneath the ice like a great serpent trying to break free .

The grip on his hand tightened; it was his mother with him now, not Brother. Ariani was pale and bloody, but she smiled as she stepped off the ledge, pulling Tobin down with her .

But Tobin didn’t fall. He flew up into the sky and far over the mountains to a cliff above the dark Osiat Sea. Looking back over his shoulder he saw the now-familiar hills, and snowy peaks beyond. As always in this dream, the robed man stood off in the distance, waving to him. Would he ever see the man’s face?

Then Ki appeared at Tobin’s side and took his hand, drawing him to the brink of the cliff to show him the fine harbor that lay below. Tobin could see their faces reflected down there, side by side, like a miniature painted on silver foil .

Tamír had experienced this dream so often now that she knew she was dreaming, and turned all the more eagerly to Ki. Perhaps this time …

But as always, she woke with a start before their lips could touch.

Ki lay curled up on the far side of the bed, and opened his eyes as soon as she stirred. “You were restless. Did you sleep at all?”

“Yes. And now I’m starving.” She lay there, watching with bittersweet fondness as Ki yawned and stretched and rubbed his eyes. He’d left the front of his shirt unlaced and she could see the little horse charm she’d made him soon after they’d met, still hanging around his neck on its chain. He’d never taken it off since she’d given it to him, not even in the bath. For a fleeting moment it could have been any morning in the old days, the two of them waking up together to face a new day.

The illusion shattered as quickly as her dream had when he got up so quickly and made his way barefoot to the door.

“I’ll go find us something to eat,” he said, not looking back. “I’ll knock before I come back in.”

Tamír sighed, guessing he was anxious to give her time to get dressed.

A moment later there was a knock at the door and Lady Una stepped in, still in her mud-stained tunic and boots. She wore a new baldric with the colors of Tamír’s guard.

Baldus woke at last and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“Go find yourself some breakfast,” Tamír told the boy.

“Yes, Highness.” The boy yawned and gave Una a curious look, his eyes lingering admiringly on her sword. Then he recognized her and made her a hasty bow. “Lady Una!”

Una looked down at the boy, then gave a little cry of surprise. She knelt and took his hand. “You’re Lady Erylin’s son, aren’t you? I bet you know my brother Atmir. He’s Duchess Malia’s page at court.”

“Yes, lady! We have lessons together, and sometimes we play—” Baldus trailed off and his face fell. “Well, we did—before.”

“Have you seen him, since the attack?”

He shook his head sadly. “I haven’t seen any of my friends since the enemy came.”

Una’s kind smile couldn’t cover her disappointment. “Well, I’m glad you’re safe. If I see him, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”

“Thank you, my lady.” Baldus bowed to Tamír and went out.

Una straightened to attention. “Forgive me, Highness. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I’ve had no word of any of my family.”

“No need to apologize. Poor Baldus. He doesn’t really understand what’s happened. I hope you both find your kin.” She paused expectantly. “Why are you here?”

Una began to look uncomfortable. “Lord Tharin thought you might need assistance, Highness.”

Suddenly self-conscious to be sitting there in nothing but a woman’s nightgown, Tamír found the robe and wrapped herself in it. “Better?”

Una made her another hasty bow. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say to you, really, or how to act.”

“You and everyone else!” Tamír spread her arms. “Well, here I am. Take a good look.”

Una blushed. “It’s not that. You know, when I threw myself at you and kissed you that time? If I’d known, I’d never have done such a thing.”

Tamír still blushed at the memory. “It wasn’t your fault. Hell, I didn’t know either back then. Believe me, I don’t hold it against you. Let’s just forget it.” She raked a hand absently back through her tangled hair. “Look at you now, a warrior, after all! I guess those sword-fighting lessons were useful, after all.”

“It was a good start,” said Una, obviously relieved by the change of subject. “Although I think I was the only girl who wasn’t there just to make eyes at the boys.”

Ki hadn’t minded that at all, Tamír recalled. She pushed that thought aside at once. “So, Captain Ahra finished your education?”

“Yes. I remembered Ki’s stories about his sister, so I rode for Lord Jorvai’s holding the night I ran away and found her. I put all my trust in her, and she promised to make a soldier of me. Her methods weren’t quite as refined as yours, though.” Una grinned. “I must admit, I was a bit surprised when I met her. She’s much—rougher than Ki.”