Lynn Flewelling - The Oracle's Queen

“Lutha, then—”

“No! None of the Companions.” Something very close to fear flitted in Korin’s red-rimmed eyes. “Damn it, Caliel, why are you always fighting me? You used to be my friend!”

“And you used to know who your friends are!” Caliel stood and backed away, fists clenched helplessly at his sides. “Bilairy’s balls, Korin, I can’t just stand by and watch you piss away—”

“Get out!” Korin yelled, staggering up to his feet.

“Not until I’ve made you see sense!”

“I said get out!” Korin grabbed up the mazer and flung it at Caliel. It struck him in the face and cut across his cheekbone. The dregs stung the open wound.

The two young men stood staring at each other in shocked silence and Caliel saw that Korin had his hand on his sword hilt.

He slowly wiped his cheek with the back of one hand. It came away bloody. He held it out for Korin to see. “Is this what we’ve come to? You couldn’t even take an honest swing at me?”

For a moment Caliel was certain Korin would break into that shamefaced grin that had always won him over, the one that had always been enough to make Caliel forgive him anything. It was all it had ever taken and he ached to forgive him now.

Instead, Korin turned his back on him. “Things have changed. I am your king, and you will obey me. Good night.”

The curt dismissal stung far worse than the wound. “We’ve had some hard days,” he said quietly. “The world is out of joint right now. But remember this: I am your friend, and I have nothing in my heart for you but the same love I have always felt. If you can’t see that, then I pity you. I won’t stop being your friend, no matter how big an ass you make of yourself!” He had to stop and force down the lump of bitterness that was rising to choke him. “Sleep on your belly tonight, Kor. You’re drunker than you think.”

He slammed out and stalked back to his room. Alone, he threw his wine-stained coat aside and paced the bare floor.

I am your friend, damn you! What can I do for you? How can I help you?

Too agitated to sleep and longing for company, he thought of going to Lutha’s chamber. What did it say, he wondered darkly, when the youngest Companions were Caliel’s sole confidants? The last honest men.

“No, not the last ones,” he muttered.

Porion’s chamber was in the lower level of the keep, close to the guardroom. As Caliel made his way down through the torchlit corridors, the golden hawk ring on his forefinger caught his eye again, and he regarded it sadly, recalling Tobin’s shy smile the day he’d given it to him. It had been a gift, in return for all the time Caliel and their friend Arengil had spent teaching him falconry. Tobin was good with the birds, patient and gentle. He was like that about everything. Or had been, anyway. Caliel still couldn’t bring himself to take the ring off.

Porion answered the door in his shirtsleeves and raised an eyebrow at Caliel’s bloody cheek as he motioned him to the plain room’s only chair.

“What have you done to your face?” he asked, sitting down on the narrow bed.

Caliel dabbed the cut with his sleeve. “It’s nothing. I need to talk with you.”

“About King Korin.”

“Yes.”

Porion sighed. “I figured you’d come to me, sooner or later. Speak your mind, boy.”

Caliel smiled in spite of himself. The Companions would always be “boy” and “lad” to their old swordmaster. “I was just with him. The letter he got was from Tobin. He let me read it.”

“And what did Tobin have to say?”

“He claims outright to have changed into a girl. He didn’t explain, just said he had witnesses, including some Afran priests and most of Atyion.”

“What do you believe?”

“I don’t know.” Caliel fidgeted with the ring. “Fantastic as it sounds, it makes more sense than Tobin turning traitor, don’t you think?”

Porion ran a hand over his short grey beard and sighed. “You’re young, and you have a good heart. And thanks to Erius, you boys led a sheltered life for too long. I’ve lived through two queens and a king and seen what people are capable of when great power is involved. I’ve been thinking about Tobin, too. I always thought it was queer, him being kept away from court most of his life, off in secret.”

“His father was an honorable man, though, and served Erius all his life.”

Porion nodded. “I knew Rhius from a boy and I wouldn’t have thought him capable of intrigue like this. Still, he did keep more to himself after his marriage, and even more after that child was born. For all we know, he and that wizard of his were planning this all along, to avenge Erius’ taking Ariani’s place on the throne.”

Caliel shifted uneasily in his chair. “I didn’t come to speak of Tobin. Do you think Korin’s acting like himself?”

Porion picked up his scabbard and found a flask of mink oil in a box under the bed. The musky smell rose in the air between them as he worked it into the scarred leather. “You’ve been Korin’s friend longer than anyone else, but he’s not only your friend, nor was he ever. He’s the king. I didn’t like everything his father did, and I sure as hell didn’t care much for his grandmother, but the crown is the crown, and duty is duty. Korin’s young, and green, it’s true, but you know the worth in him.”

“You know him as well as I do, Porion. We’ve both seen his weaknesses, too—the drinking, and—” Caliel clenched his fists against his knees, hating what he had to say next. “He’s no good in battle. It wasn’t just that first time, against those bandits. He nearly got us all killed at Ero, then he let that damn wizard talk him into running!”

Porion kept at his work. “It takes time, with some.”

“Tobin—”

Porion looked up sharply, and Caliel was taken aback by the sudden anger in his old mentor’s eyes. “That’s enough, Caliel. I won’t hear it, you comparing the two of them. Korin is king, and that’s that. I served his father and now I serve him. If you don’t think you can do that, then it’s best if I know it now.”

“That’s not what I’m saying! I love Korin. I’d lay down my life for him. But I can’t stand by any longer while that serpent ruins what’s left of him! Bilairy’s balls, Porion, you’re not going to tell me you think this great friendship between them is natural? How can you sit there in the hall night after night, seeing that cur in Tobin’s place—”

“Tobin again, is it?” Porion regarded him levelly. “That name is on your lips a great deal, my lord.”

Caliel went cold. Porion had been his swordmaster since he was a boy, a friend and a good teacher. He was looking at him now with the same distrust that Korin had earlier, taking his measure.

“Something isn’t right with that, Porion. That’s all I’m trying to say.”

“Times change, lad. People change. But the crown’s the crown, and duty is duty. You’re old enough to understand that.”

“You’re saying I should just keep my mouth shut and let Lord Niryn have his way?”

“Who the king chooses for his councilors is his concern. The best you can do is stand by him. Can you look me in the eye and swear your loyalty to him?”

Caliel met the old man’s gaze unflinchingly. “I swear by the Flame and all the Four, I serve Korin as my friend and my king.”

Porion wiped more oil on the scabbard. “I believe you, but there are those close to the king who think otherwise.”

“Niryn, you mean? I know. Moriel’s under my feet all the time, spying for him. He can lurk all he likes. I’ve done nothing I’m ashamed of.”

Porion shrugged. “All the same, watch your step, lad. That’s all I’m saying.”