Lynn Flewelling - The Oracle's Queen

“Korin won’t think anything of charging foot soldiers,” said Ki. “There’s a good chance he could break our lines, too, if he has as many people as you say, Arkoniel.”

“That’s just what he’ll think,” said Tamír, already seeing it in her mind’s eye. “What we need is a herald, and a hedgehog.”

Cutting west to the Osiat coast under a grey sky, Korin turned south with his cavalry, leaving the foot with orders to catch up quickly.

Keeping the sea in sight, they rode hard all day, passing through open grasslands and skirting deep forest.

“Rich-looking country,” Porion remarked as they stopped to water their horses at a river ford.

But Korin had no eye for bottomland or timber stands. His gaze was fixed on the distance, already seeing in his mind’s eye the apparition of his cousin. After all the months of uncertainty and delay, it was almost beyond comprehension that he would finally face Tobin and decide the fate of Skala, once and for all.

It was midafternoon before the first of the scouts returned with word of Tobin’s army.

“They’ve moved north a few miles, Majesty, and seem to be anticipating your arrival,” the rider informed him.

“That will be his wizards’ work,” said Alben.

Korin nodded grimly. How was it that Niryn and his ilk had never been of such use?

They were about to set off again when Korin heard a rider coming up from the rear at a punishing gallop. The man hailed him and reined in.

“Majesty, two riders have been captured at the end of the column. One of them claims to be your friend, Lord Caliel.”

“Caliel!” For a moment Korin could hardly get his breath. Caliel, here? He saw his own amazement on the faces of the remaining Companions, all but Moriel, who looked disconcerted.

“He begs your indulgence to see him and the man he brought you,” the messenger said.

“Bring them to me at once!” Korin ordered, wondering what could have possibly brought Cal back. He paced restlessly as he waited, fists clenched behind his back while Alben and the others watched in silence. Was this some trick of Tobin’s, sending the man back to spy? What could he hope to gain this late in the game? Korin could not imagine why else Caliel would risk execution to return. Revenge, perhaps? But that was simply suicidal, given the circumstances.

Presently an armed escort arrived and Korin made out Caliel in their midst, riding with his hands bound before him. Someone else rode beside him. As they came closer, Korin let out a shocked gasp as his heart turned over in his breast. “Tanil?”

The escort halted and four men brought the prisoners down from the saddle and marched them to where Korin and the others stood staring. Caliel met his gaze levelly and fell to one knee before him.

Tanil was pale and thin. He looked terribly confused, but broke into a beautiful smile as he caught sight of Korin and attempted to come to him, only to be restrained.

“My lord, I found you!” he called, struggling weakly. “Prince Korin, it’s me! Forgive me—I got lost, but Cal brought me back!”

“Release him!” Korin ordered. Tanil ran to him and fell on his knees, clasping Korin’s boot with his bound hands. Korin loosed the rope and wrapped his arms awkwardly around the boy’s shaking shoulders. Tanil was laughing and sobbing at the same time, babbling apologies over and over again.

Korin looked past him to find Caliel watching with a sad smile. He was filthy and pale, too, and looked on the verge of collapse, but he was smiling .

“What are you doing here?” Korin asked, still not quite master of his voice.

“I found him in Atyion. He wouldn’t rest until he came back to you, so I brought him.”

Korin freed himself from Tanil’s embrace and walked over to him, drawing his sword as he went.

Caliel didn’t flinch or show the least fear, just kept his gaze fixed on Korin.

“Did Tobin send you?”

“No, but she honorably let us go, even knowing that it was back to you.”

Korin leveled the blade under Caliel’s chin. “You will not speak of him like that to me, do you understand?”

“As you wish, my lord.”

Korin lowered the tip of his blade a few inches. “Why did you come back, Cal? You’re still under the order of execution.”

“Then kill me. I’ve done what I came to do. Just—please, be kind to Tanil. He’s suffered enough, for the love of you.” His voice was hoarse and hollow by the time he finished, and he was wavering on his knees. Korin thought of the flogging he’d endured and wondered how he’d survived at all. It hadn’t mattered much at the time. Now he felt the first stirrings of shame.

“Untie him,” he ordered.

“But Majesty—”

“I said untie him!” Korin barked. “Bring food and wine for them, and decent clothing.”

Caliel rubbed his wrists as he was released, but stayed kneeling. “I don’t expect anything, Korin. I only wanted to bring him back.”

“Knowing that I would hang you?”

Caliel shrugged.

“Who is your allegiance to, Cal?”

“Do you still doubt me?”

“Where are the others?”

“They stayed in Atyion.”

“But not you?”

Caliel fixed him with that direct gaze again. “How could I?”

Korin stood a moment, wrestling with his own heart. Niryn’s accusations against Caliel seemed so hollow now. How had he believed such things of his friend?

“Do you swear yourself to me? Will you follow me and accept my course?”

“I always have, Majesty. I always will.”

How can you forgive me? Korin wondered, astonished. He held out his hand and drew Caliel to his feet, then caught him as the other man’s knees buckled under him. He felt thin and frail through his tunic, and Korin heard his muffled groan of pain as Korin’s hands grasped at his back. The tufts of Cal’s severed braids mocked him.

“I’m sorry,” Korin whispered, so only Caliel could hear. “So sorry.”

“Don’t!” Caliel’s hands tightened on Korin’s shoulders. “Forgive me for giving you reason to doubt me.”

“It’s forgotten.” Then, to those who stood staring at the spectacle he was making of himself, he said gruffly, “Lord Caliel has redeemed himself. He and Tanil are Companions once more. Alben, Urmanis, see to your brothers. Make them comfortable and find them arms.”

The others gently helped Caliel to a seat by the stream. Tanil stayed by Korin, but his eyes kept straying back to Caliel. Moriel hovered near them, and Korin saw the look of naked hatred Caliel gave him, and the one he got in return. “Moriel!” he snapped. “You go see to the horses.”

Tamír had worked everyone tirelessly since dawn, preparing for Korin’s arrival, and Ki stayed close by her side. The fog lifted by midday, but the clouds hung low and rain blew in off the water all that day, keeping clothing damp and making the fires smoke and die. The archers looked to their bows, tightening slack strings and rubbing them well with wax.

The entire army moved north, massing at the edge of the open ground she’d chosen. Ki and several of Nyanis’ best archers took their bows up to the crest of the hill and let fly toward their own side of the field, arching some and sending others straight on to test the range. The other Companions carefully marked where the shafts landed and Tamír planned their lines.

“Korin’s had the same lessons we did,” Ki fretted as he rejoined her. “Don’t you think he’ll wonder why you’re ceding him the advantage?”

Tamír shrugged. “We’ll take our position and stay here until he comes to us.”

Gathering her commanders by the stream, she took up a long stick and began scratching her plan into the soft ground. “We must draw him.”