Lynn Flewelling - The Oracle's Queen

The herald wrapped the head in a corner of his cloak and hurried away.

Freed of that burden, Tamír wiped the Sword of Ghërilain on the hem of her filthy tabard and slid it into her scabbard, then walked back to the clearing.

Ki had been carried up from the gully. Arkoniel sat on the ground under a large tree, holding the younger man’s head in his lap as Caliel tried to staunch the wound in his side.

She was amazed to see Cal conscious. His hands shook as he held the cloth, and tears were streaming down his cheeks.

Tamír knelt beside them and reached out hesitantly to touch Ki’s muddy face. “Will he live?”

“I don’t know,” Arkoniel told her.

The wizard’s quiet words struck harder than any blow Korin had dealt her.

If he dies—

She bit her lip, unable to finish such a thought. Leaning down, she kissed Ki on the forehead and whispered, “You gave me your word.”

“Majesty?” Caliel said softly.

Unable to look at him yet, she asked, “Where is Tanil?”

“In the trees, just over there. Alive, I think.”

“You should go to him. Give him the news.”

“Thank you.” He rose to go.

Looking up, she searched his face, but still found only sorrow there. “You’re both welcome in my camp.”

More tears slid slowly down Caliel’s cheeks, carving pale trails through the blood and grime as he made her an unsteady bow.

“For what it’s worth, Cal, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to fight him.”

“I know that.” He stumbled off toward the trees.

She turned to find Arkoniel watching her, looking sadder than she’d ever seen.

Litters for the dead and wounded were hastily made up from saplings and cloaks. Korin’s body was carried out first, with Ki’s litter just behind. Tamír walked beside Ki, stealing glances down at him to see the labored rise and fall of his chest all the way back to camp. She wanted to sob and scream and hold Ki tight to keep him from leaving her. Instead, she had to hold her head high and return the salutes of the men and women they passed.

Warriors from both sides were moving among the dead, claiming fallen friends or stripping the enemy. Ravens had already arrived, drawn by the smell of death. Flocks of them massed in the trees, filling the air with their hoarse, hungry cries as they waited their turn.

At the camp Ki was carried into her tent and given over to the care of the drysians. Tamír watched them anxiously through the open flap as she waited for Korin’s lords to surrender.

Korin’s body lay under a cloak on a makeshift catafalque nearby, with Porion and the other fallen Companions beside him. Her Companions kept silent vigil over them, all except Nikides and Tanil.

Nik, in spite of his own grief and his wound, had stepped in and was seeing to the necessary details, sending off heralds to carry word of the victory and Korin’s death, and seeing that messenger birds were let loose to carry the news quickly to Atyion. Tamír was grateful, as always, for his competence and foresight.

Tanil crouched on the ground by his fallen lord, sobbing inconsolably under his cloak, and would not be moved. He could not grasp what had happened, and perhaps that was for the best. Caliel knelt with him, sword planted before him, keeping the vigil with him. He’d already reported seeing Urmanis, Garol, and Mago fall earlier in the day. There’d been no sign of Alben among the living or the dead.

Messengers arrived from her own side with word that Jorvai had suffered an arrow wound to the chest; but Kyman and Nyanis arrived soon after, unhurt. Korin’s baggage train had been captured, yielding much-needed food and tents. That, together with the supplies the Aurënfaie had brought, would be sufficient to make camp here until the wounded could be safely moved.

Arengil brought news that the Aurënfaie had killed all the horsemen Korin had sent to flank them and suffered no losses of their own. Solun and Hiril soon followed, bearing the captured standards. Tamír listened with half an ear. Inside the tent Ki remained motionless and the drysians looked concerned.

Wethring and a few of the remaining nobles arrived under a flag of truce. Tamír stood and drew the Sword, holding it up before her. The herald had brought Korin’s head back and placed it carefully under the cloak with the body.

Kneeling, Wethring humbly bowed his head. “The day is yours, Majesty.”

“By the will of Illior,” she replied.

He looked up, studying her face.

“Do you believe what your eyes show you?” she demanded.

“Yes, Majesty.”

“Will you swear fealty to me?”

He blinked in surprise. “I will if you will accept me.”

“You were loyal to Korin. Show me the same loyalty, and I will confirm your title and lands, in return for the blood fee.”

“You shall have both, Majesty. I swear it by the Four and vouch for all those who’ve followed my banner.”

“Where is Nevus, son of Solari?”

“He went east, to Atyion.”

“Have you had word back from him?”

“No, Majesty.”

“I see. And Lord Alben? Did he fall today?”

“No one has seen him, Majesty.”

“What of Lord Niryn?”

“Dead, Majesty, at Cirna.”

“Did Korin kill him?” Lutha asked, overhearing.

“No, he fell from Lady Nalia’s tower.”

“He fell?” Tamír let out a short, mirthless laugh. It was a ridiculous death for someone so feared. “Well, that’s one bit of good news, then.”

“Do I have your leave to burn our dead?”

“Of course.”

Wethring cast a sad look at the draped form beside them. “And Korin?”

“He’s my kin. I will see that he’s properly burned and his ashes gathered for his wife. Send your army back to their homes and attend me in Atyion in a month’s time.”

Wethring stood and gave her another deep bow. “I hear and obey, merciful Queen.”

“I’m not quite done with you yet. What are the defenses at Cirna? What provisions did Korin make for Lady Nalia?”

“The fortress garrison was left behind. They’re mostly Niryn’s Harriers now, and a few wizards.”

“Will she stand against me?”

“Lady Nalia?” Wethring smiled and shook his head. “She wouldn’t have the first idea how, Majesty.”

Lutha had been listening intently and he stepped forward now. “He’s right, Tamír. She’s been sheltered and kept locked away. The nobles who know Korin’s court know that. She’s helpless there now. With your permission, I’d like to take a force north immediately to protect her.”

“You should bring her here and keep her close,” Arkoniel advised. “You can’t risk her and the child becoming pawns to be used against you.”

Lutha went down on one knee before her. “Please, Tamír. She’s never done anyone any harm.”

Tamír sensed more than mere courtesy behind his interest in Lady Nalia. “Of course. She knows you. It’s best if you are my emissary. Make her understand that she is under my protection, not being arrested. But you’ll need warriors to take the fortress.”

“I’ll go, with your consent,” said Nyanis.

Tamír nodded gratefully. She trusted all her nobles, but Nyanis most of all. “Capture the place and leave a garrison. Lutha, bring her here.”

“I’ll guard her with my life,” Lutha vowed.

“Arkoniel, you and your people go, too, and deal with Niryn’s wizards.”

“I will be certain we do, Majesty.”

“Show them no more mercy than they showed to those they burned.”

“We will go, as well, and destroy the blasphemers,” Solun said.

“And my people,” said Hiril.

“Thank you. Go now. Take what supplies you need and ride hard.”

Lutha and the others saluted and hurried off to make ready. Arengil moved to follow as the others started away, but Tamír called him back. “Do you still wish to be a Companion?”