Lynn Flewelling - The Oracle's Queen

“And Ero?” he asked at last.

“We drove the enemy out, but the city’s pretty near ruined.” Ki clasped his shoulder. “I’m sorry about your grandfather. I’m told he died defending the palace.”

“Yes. I’ll miss him, but it was an honorable death.”

“What can you tell me about Korin? Do you know where they went?”

“They haven’t come back?”

“No. What happened?”

“The enemy had broken through our last defenses. They were everywhere, killing and burning. Master Porion and Captain Melnoth organized the retreat, with what soldiers they had left to cover their escape. I was unlucky, that’s all, and got cut off.”

“And they just left you?”

“You can’t blame Lutha, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He paused and Ki saw a look of pain in his eyes. “I saw him looking back at me, shouting something. He wanted to go back for me, but of course, he couldn’t. His duty was to Korin.”

“I would have, Nik. So would Tamír.”

Nikides shook his head. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to. Duty first, in all things. That’s what Master Porion would tell you, too.”

Ki kept his arguments to himself for now. Nikides was still too ill to fully appreciate the situation. “Do you know where Korin was headed?”

“No. Niryn just said to get him out of the city. We were trying for the west gate when I lost them.”

“The wizard was giving the orders?”

“Korin wouldn’t listen to anyone else by then, not even Cal.”

The drysian who’d spoken with Ki earlier came back just then and put her ear to Nikides’ chest. She looked pleased with what she heard. “You’re a lucky fellow, my lord. A few days more and you should be on your feet again, though it will take time to fully heal. I’ll send someone over with broth. See that he eats, won’t you, Lord Kirothieus?”

“I will.” Ki grinned at his friend. “Not that we ever had any trouble getting you to eat.”

Nikides made a rude gesture, then looked over at Tanil again. He’d stirred when the drysian came, and appeared to be awake. “Hello, Tanil. I’m glad you’re here. Are you hungry?”

Tanil shook his head and the blanket fell back from his face.

“Bilairy’s balls!” Nikides gasped softly.

The young squire’s face was still badly swollen and discolored from the beating, and his dark hair hung in lank strands around his shoulders. His braids had been cut off, too. Worst of all, though, was his vacant, frightened expression. He hunched in on himself, arms crossed tight across his chest. Livid bruises covered his bare shoulders, and his wrists were wrapped with bloodstained linen. He gave them a confused look, then hid his face against his knees.

“Poor fellow,” Nikides whispered sadly.

“And he was one of the lucky ones,” Ki replied softly, leaving it unsaid that his captors had been about to gut him when Tamír and her forces showed up. “The wounds in his wrists aren’t so bad. The healers say he’ll probably have the use of his hands again when they heal.”

He spoke lightly, but he and Nikides exchanged a knowing look. Wounds to the body were nothing to a warrior, but to be so dishonored and left crippled? It would have been kinder if the bastards had killed him.

The drysian woman returned with two bowls of strong-smelling broth. Nikides took a sip from his and wrinkled his nose. “Horse meat!”

“Plenty of that about,” Ki said, moving slowly and carefully to sit by Tanil. He held out the bowl. “It stinks, but it’ll put strength back into you. Come on now, try a little. It’s me, see? Nobody’s going to hurt you. Nik’s here, too.”

Tanil regarded them with empty eyes, then a hint of recognition seemed to dawn. He let Ki hold the bowl to his lips and managed a few sips before he gagged and turned his face away.

Nikides gamely downed his portion and put the bowl aside with a grimace of distaste. “You haven’t said what happened to you, since you left Ero.”

Ki quickly outlined the chaos of the past few days. “Tharin’s reorganized the remains of the old Alestun guard, along with Lynx and some of the warriors from Atyion, into a new guard for Tamír,” Ki said, all the while coaxing Tanil to drink more of the broth. “We’ve got Lord Jorvai, and Kyman of Ilear on our side already, and Illardi, and more who swore fealty after the battle. Not everyone is supporting Tamír, though.”

“That’s to be expected,” Nikides said, looking thoughtful. “Well, you can count me in as another loyal man, for whatever it’s worth.”

“Even over your Companion’s oath? She’ll send you back to Korin if that’s what you want.”

“No. I won’t say it doesn’t hurt, but in my heart I know it’s the right thing. Erius broke with the prophecy, and where did that get us? If Illior has made Tobin into a queen, then who am I to argue? So, how can I help?”

Ki clasped his friend’s hand and smiled. “Get your strength back and keep an eye on Tanil for me. Well, I better get back. Take care of yourself and do as the healers tell you.”

Ki felt a bit better for seeing his friend awake, but returned to the house unsure of his welcome. He felt bad about how things had gone earlier and was anxious to put it right.

Tamír was sitting on the bed reading a letter. She had on a long linen shirt under the dressing gown, and her damp hair hung loose over her shoulders. Baldus was curled up asleep on his pallet by the door.

She looked up as he came in, and he could tell she was trying to gauge his mood, too.

“I just saw Nik and Tanil.”

“How are they?”

“Nik’s mending. Tanil’s not doing so well. His spirit’s broken.”

“I don’t wonder. I’ll go see him tomorrow.” She gestured casually at the tub. “I had more warm water brought in.” She paused, looking uneasy again. “I can go in the sitting room—”

“Whatever you like,” Ki answered too quickly. Did she want to stay, or go? He was damned if he could tell. He had the feeling that no matter what he did, it would be wrong. When it came right down to it, though, she’d seen him naked so often that that didn’t make a bit of difference. All he wanted right now was hot water and a clean bed. “I don’t mind either way.”

After all the earlier embarrassment, he’d expected her to leave. Instead, she shrugged and went back to the letter.

Suit yourself , he thought, wondering at this new shift in the wind. He stripped and sank gratefully into the tub. It wasn’t very hot, but it was the cleanest water he’d seen in days. Settling back, he went to work with the soap and sponge.

As he washed, he found himself glancing over at Tamír. She was still engrossed in that letter. He ducked his head, rinsing lather from his hair, and looked up to find her still staring down at the parchment. It was only a single sheet. It couldn’t be taking her that long to read it.

“What’s that you’re looking at?” he asked.

She glanced up with a guilty start and colored a little, as if he’d caught her staring. Damn, this was strange!

“A letter from Lady Myna of Tynford, offering fealty,” she told him.

“Already? Word travels fast.”

She tossed the letter aside and stretched out on her stomach, chin propped on one hand. “I can’t stop thinking about Korin. A retreat’s one thing, but for him to just run off like that and leave the city open to the enemy? That doesn’t seem right.”

“I’m sure he had his reasons at the time.” Cowardice, most likely , he thought, scrubbing at a bloodstain on his left knee.

Tamír stared off at nothing for a moment, brow knitted in thought. “Damn that Niryn! It has to be him, weakening Kor’s mind.”

“I don’t doubt it. But maybe Korin wasn’t too hard to sway, either.” So much for tact.