Lynn Flewelling - The Oracle's Queen

She turned to go, but Ki caught her by the arm and stepped close, looking at her closely. “You’re pale these days, and thinner, too, and—” His other hand came up to clasp her shoulder, as if he expected her to run away. “Well, you just look worn-out. You can’t keep on like this.”

“Like what?” she asked, wondering if her fears about him showed after all.

He smiled and she felt a shiver run up her spine. She could feel the warmth of his hands through the sleeves of her gown. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek and smell the ripe pear he’d eaten during the assembly. Stunned, she wondered suddenly if his lips still tasted of the fruit?

“You haven’t given yourself a moment to rest since Ero fell,” he replied, oblivious to her turmoil. “You’ve got to rest, Tamír. There’s no battle to fight right now and those damn courtiers have no right to run you into the ground like this. We should take off and go hunting or fishing—anything to get away from all that.” He gestured in the direction of the hall. “Hell, I’m worried about you and so are the others.”

He sounded so much like his old self that it brought tears to her eyes. “There now, you see?” he murmured, and pulled her into an embrace.

And once again, Tamír felt torn in two—half of her still Tobin, glad for the gesture of a friend, the other—Tamír—caught up in emotions she didn’t fully understand, except that she still wanted to taste Ki’s lips.

She pulled back a little, heedless of the tear that escaped down her cheek and looked up into his eyes. Their lips were just inches apart, so close …

Like my dreams , she thought. It would be so easy to just lean forward a little and kiss him.

Before she could, the sound of approaching footsteps made her start and pull back. A pair of young nobles passed by, making her a hasty bow as they caught sight of her behind the pillar.

She returned it with what dignity she could manage and when they were gone she saw that Ki was blushing furiously.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have— No, here. Look, I’m going to go fetch our horses and we’re going for a ride. To hell with all this, at least until supper. Just us and the Companions, all right?”

She nodded and went to find the others, thinking glumly Just like my dream, in every way .

Yawning through another dreary evening feast, Lutha was about to invite Caliel and some of the younger officers back to his room for a game of bakshi when there was a stir among the guards by the door. Porion rose from his place and went to see what was going on. He returned a few moments later with a herald, who’d just arrived.

The man was young, and notable both for his striking long blond braid and the bloody bandage wrapped around his left arm.

“I’ve never seen a wounded herald before,” said Barieus. Heralds were sacred.

The young man came forward and bowed gracefully to Korin. “Your Majesty, please forgive my tardy delivery of this message. I should have been here a week ago, but I was delayed on the road.”

“I see that you’re hurt. Were you attacked?” asked Korin.

“Yes, Majesty. I met with some brigands on the road, but the message I carry remains safe.” He pressed a hand to his breast and bowed again. “It is a most important letter, and the person who sends it requires that I give it to you in private. If it please Your Majesty, may we withdraw?”

Lutha glanced over at Niryn, but the man appeared to be taking little notice.

Korin raised a questioning eyebrow, however. “Who is this message from?”

“That, too, I may only impart to you alone, Majesty.” Even a king could not order him to go against a vow he’d given to the one who’d entrusted him with the message.

Korin rose. “My lords, I’ll bid you good night now. We’ll speak more of strategy in the morning.”

Alben yawned and ran a hand back through his long hair, which he’d taken to wearing loose except for the braids. “Tell Korin I’m in my room if he needs me. Mago, go find us that brace of pretty little dairymaids I met this morning and ask them if they’d like to see our chamber. Good night, boys.” He gave the others a rakish wink; handsome Alben wasn’t often refused.

“Would you boys like to join us for a last cup?” Niryn offered, knowing full well they wouldn’t take him up on it.

“Thank you for the offer, my lord, but I’ve already made plans for the evening,” Caliel replied coolly, then caught Lutha’s eye. “You do still want that game of bakshi, don’t you, Rattie? I promise I’ll let you try and win your money back.”

Rattie? thought Lutha. It was an affectionate nickname from his early days with the Companions; as a child Lutha had been small, quick in a fight, and had borne an unfortunate resemblance to said rodent. But no one had called him that in years. He shrugged and replied, “You’ll do better to try and hang on to your own.”

“Come on then. The stones are in my room.”

Niryn waited until the other Companions were out of sight, then murmured, “Watch those two, Moriel.”

He made his way alone up to Korin’s door, where he swiftly sketched a pair of spells on the air, weaving in the proper intents.

Korin opened the door to his knock and waved him inside impatiently. “Come along, won’t you? I want you to hear this.”

The herald’s mind had proven suitably malleable as well. He showed no hint of surprise or objection as Niryn stepped in and closed the door softly after him.

Caliel’s chamber was much like Lutha’s: narrow, damp, and sparsely furnished. Caliel had not taken a new squire, even when Barieus offered to help him find somebody. Lutha understood his friend’s hesitation. Who would you trust here? As far as Lutha knew, Cal hadn’t had a woman to his bed since they’d been here, either, though Lutha and Barieus, like Alben, had found plenty of willing girls among the servants of the keep.

Barieus started for the small wine table against the wall, looking for cups. Before he could pour for them, however, Caliel said, “Barieus, would you lend me your lord for a little while?”

“Sure, Cal.” Barieus shot Lutha a curious look and went out.

“So, are we going to play?” Lutha asked.

Instead, Caliel held a finger to his lips and went to the narrow keyhole window.

“Rattie?” Lutha whispered. “You haven’t called me that in—”

“I just wanted to get your attention. And I need a clever rat to climb out this window.”

Lutha blinked. It was a sheer drop on this side of the fortress.

“Not all the way out,” Caliel amended. “Come here. If I hold your feet, I think you can fit out the wide part.”

Caliel pushed a wooden stool under the window for Lutha to stand on. He stepped up and examined the window. The slit had a round cutout at the bottom for an archer to shoot through, just large enough for someone small and flexible to squeeze out.

“But why?” he asked, peering out at the very long drop below.

Caliel gave him an impatient look. “I want to hear what that messenger has to say, of course!”

“What? How drunk are you?” Lutha hissed. “It’s a herald! It’s Korin! It’s—”

Caliel clapped a hand over Lutha’s mouth and pushed the shutter closed with his other hand. “Do you want him to hear you?”

Lutha pushed Caliel’s hand away but shut his mouth.

“I know it’s Korin!” Cal whispered. “That’s why I want to know what’s going on. This message might be from Tobin. At least I hope it is!” He pushed the shutter back again and gave Lutha an expectant look.

“If you drop me, I swear to Bilairy I’ll haunt you.”

“Fair enough. Hurry now, before we miss it all.”