Lynn Flewelling - Hidden Warrior

“It had to be someone who knew we were going to Atyion, by what route, and when. And know it in time to have this set up.”

“Not the king! Even if he wanted me killed, he wouldn’t sacrifice Ero.”

“Then it would have to be someone with him tonight. Perhaps it wasn’t Erius’ idea to send you.”

Tobin thought back. “Not Hylus!”

“No, I’d never believe that.”

“That leaves General Rheynaris and Lord Niryn.”

“And Prince Korin.”

“No! Korin wouldn’t do that. It had to be Niryn.”

“It doesn’t matter now. We’ve still got a long way to go and horses to find.”

Ki and Lynx had made Eyoli as comfortable as they could in a nest of cloaks under an oak just inside the copse.

“I’ll send someone for you,” Tobin promised.

Eyoli freed one hand from his wrapping to touch his brow and breast. “Go, my prince. Save your city.”

Just beyond the copse they came to a large steading. A low stone wall surrounded it and the gate hung open on its hinges.

“Careful, boys,” Tharin murmured.

But the place had been abandoned. The barn doors were open, and the corrals empty.

“Bilairy’s balls!” Ki panted, coming back from the barns empty-handed. “They must have driven the stock off rather than leave it for the enemy.”

Tharin sighed. “Nothing to do but keep going.”

They’d just reached the gate when they heard a strong, rushing wind.

Tobin looked around in surprise. The night was still, with hardly a breath of breeze.

The sound grew louder, then ended abruptly as a large, dark mass appeared out of thin air not ten feet from where they stood, tumbling and bouncing until it fetched up against a watering trough.

Tobin started toward it but Tharin held him back. Ki and Lynx advanced cautiously, swords drawn.

“I think it’s a man!” Lynx called back.

“It is, and he’s alive,” said Ki.

“A wizard?” said Tobin.

“Or something worse,” Tharin muttered, stepping in front of him.

The strange traveler rose slowly to his knees, holding up both hands to show that he was unarmed. Ki let out a yelp of surprise. “Tobin, it’s Arkoniel!”

“By the Four, is it raining wizards today?” Tharin growled.

Tobin ran to help Arkoniel up. Instead of his usual hooded cloak, the wizard wore a shepherd’s long fleece vest and a felt hat jammed down on his head and tied in place with a scarf. Leather gauntlets covered his arms almost to the elbow. He was breathless and shaking like a man with fever.

“How did you get here?” asked Tobin.

Arkoniel clutched Tobin’s shoulder, still unsteady on his feet. “A spell I’ve been working on. Not quite perfected yet, but I seem to have arrived with all my arms and legs.”

“Were you expecting bad weather?” Ki asked, eyeing the absurd hat.

“No, just a bad journey. As I said, the spell isn’t quite right yet. I’m never sure if I’ll arrive in one piece or not.” Arkoniel pulled off the left gauntlet and showed them his splinted wrist. “Same one I broke that day I arrived at the keep, remember?” He pulled off the right glove with his teeth and undid the scarf holding his hat.

“How did you find us?” Tharin asked.

“You can thank Iya and Eyoli for that. They got word to me. Tobin, I believe you’ll be needing this.” Pulling off his hat, Arkoniel shook out Tobin’s old rag doll. “Don’t let go of it again.”

Tobin stuffed it inside his studded coat as Lynx stared. “Can you walk?”

Arkoniel straightened his disordered clothing. “Yes, it’s just a bit disorienting, traveling like that twice in one night. Can’t say that I recommend it.” He looked around. “No horses?”

“No,” said Tharin. “I don’t suppose you have a spell for that?”

Arkoniel gave him a wink. Taking out his crystal wand, he drew a figure in red light, then stuck two fingers in his mouth and let out a piercing whistle. “There, they’ll be along.”

Ki and Lynx went to the barn again. By the time they returned with the saddles, they could hear the sound of hooves on the road, approaching at a gallop. A few minutes later ten horses thundered into the yard and came to a stop around Arkoniel, nosing at his belt and tunic.

“You’ve become quite a useful fellow since I last saw you.” Tharin laughed.

“Thank you. It’s been an instructive few years.”

Arkoniel drew Tobin aside as the others saddled the horses. “I suppose you know what all this signifies?”

Tobin nodded.

“Good. I think it might be best if your friends understood.”

“Tharin already knows.”

“You told him?”

“No, Lhel did.”

Arkoniel grasped Tobin’s shoulder with his good hand. “You’ve seen her! Where is she?”

“I didn’t see her. She came to Tharin in some kind of vision.”

Arkoniel sagged and Tobin saw the deep disappointment in his eyes. “She left us at Sakor-tide. I looked for her when I went back to the keep for the doll, but there was no sign of her anywhere.”

“You mean it wasn’t Lhel who got the doll back from my mother?”

“No. I found it in the tower. Someone had been up there before me. One of the tables had been righted, and a dozen or so of your mother’s dolls were lined up there. You remember them? Boys with no mouths? Yours was with them. It was as if someone knew I was coming for it.”

“Maybe Nari?”

“The tower door is still locked and I threw the key in the river years ago. It could have been Lhel, but—Well, I think maybe your mother knew that you needed it back.”

Tobin shook his head. “Or that Brother needed it.”

“What do you mean?”

“She always loved him, not me.” He clutched at the lump the doll made inside his coat. “She made this to keep him with her. She carried it everywhere, so he’d be there. She loved him.”

“No, Tobin. Lhel told her to make the doll. It was the only way to control Brother after—after he died. Lhel helped her, and set the magic on it to hold him. It may have given your mother some comfort but it wasn’t love.”

“You weren’t there! You didn’t see how she was. It was always him. She never wanted me.”

A look of genuine pain crossed Arkoniel’s face. “Oh, Tobin. It wasn’t your fault or hers, how things were.”

“Whose, then? Why did she treat me like that, just because he was stillborn?”

Arkoniel started to speak, then turned away. Tobin caught him by the sleeve. “What is it?”

“Nothing. It’s all in the past. Right now you must get to Atyion. It would be safest to reveal yourself there.”

“But how? Lhel’s not here to undo the binding.”

“She taught me. It’s actually quite simple. Cut the cord she made of your hair that’s around the doll’s neck, take Brother’s bones out of it, then cut out the piece of bone she sewed into your skin.”

“That’s all?” Tobin exclaimed softly. “But I could have done that anytime!”

“Yes, and if you’d known, you might have too soon and brought us all to ruin.”

“I wouldn’t have! I never wanted to. I don’t want to now.” Tobin hugged himself unhappily. “I’m scared, Arkoniel. What if—” He looked back at Ki and the others. “What will they do?”

“We should be moving on,” Tharin called.

“A moment, please,” Arkoniel told him. “It’s time you told Ki. It’s only fair, and you need him steady at your side.”

“Now?”

“I’ll do it, if you like.”

“No, he should hear it from me. And Lynx?”

“Yes, tell them both.”

Tobin started slowly back to Ki. He’d been tempted a hundred times over to just blurt it all out, but now fear choked him.

What if Ki hated him? And what about Korin and the other Companions? What if the people of Atyion refused to believe, refused to follow him?