Lynn Flewelling - Hidden Warrior

It was Solari.

Moments later the drawbridge rattled down and soldiers surged out to greet Tobin. Some among them wore Solari’s green, but they were chanting Tobin’s name.

There were women with them, too, still in skirts and aprons, but armed with swords. One of the cooks ran to Tobin and fell on her knees before him. Offering her sword up to him with both hands, she cried out, “For Atyion and the Four!”

It was Tharin’s cousin who’d greeted him on his first visit here. Dismounting, Tobin accepted the blade and gave it back to her. “Rise, Grannia. You’re a captain again.”

Another great cheer went up, echoing between the castle walls and the town. It seemed to lift Tobin back into the saddle on waves of sound, leaving him dizzy and elated. Then Arkoniel was beside him again.

“It’s time, Tobin,” he shouted over the noise.

“Yes, I know.”

Flanked by his companions and the chief priests, Tobin rode across the bridge into the huge bailey beyond. The brief battle there had left scores of dead, mostly Solari’s men. Others had been herded into several corrals and knelt there under the watchful eye of Atyion archers and swordsmen.

Tobin rode in a wide circle, taking in the situation. Most of Solari’s men had sided with Atyion in the end.

“The castle is yours, Prince Tobin,” said Tharin.

Duchess Savia and her children were waiting for him at the head of the castle steps. The duchess held her head up proudly, but he saw the fear in her eyes as she pulled her children closer to her. Jobin’s heart turned over in his breast as he saw the same fear in the children’s eyes. He’d feasted and played with them the last time he was here, and held little Rose on his knee. Now she clung to her mother’s skirts, wailing with fear at his approach.

Savia fell to her knees. “Kill me if you will,” she cried, holding her hands out to him in supplication. “But I pray you in the name of the Four, spare my children!”

“You are under my protection,” Tobin assured her. “I swear by the Four and the law of Skala that no harm will come to you!” He looked around. “Is Lady Lytia here?”

“Here, my prince,” she called, stepping out from the crowd below.

“Lady Lytia, I proclaim you Steward of Atyion. See to it that my order is made clear to the garrison. No harm or insult is to be offered to the duchess and her children. They can stay in their chambers under guard for now. When you’ve seen them safely there, give the order for my banners to be raised.”

“I will, my prince.” The approval in her pale eyes as she gently guided the weeping duchess away warmed Tobin even more than the cheering had.

“You’d better address the garrison now,” Tharin advised.

Despite his success so far, Tobin’s stomach tightened into a cold knot as he looked out across the sea of expectant faces.

“Warriors of Atyion,” he began, and his voice sounded thin and reedy in the open air. “I thank you for your faithful service this day.”

Arkoniel stepped closer and whispered in his ear as they waited for the cheering to subside. Tobin nodded and took a deep breath.

“Good people of Atyion, you have loved me for my father’s sake, I know, and welcomed me as one of your own. Today—” He faltered, his mouth dry. “Today the warships of Plenimar fill the harbor before Ero. The city is in flames and the enemy is at the gates of the Palatine.”

He paused again, gathering his thoughts as the angry outcry subsided. “Today, I stand before you not only as the child of Rhius, but of Ariani; she who should have been queen.” He stopped again, so scared he thought he might be sick right there in front of everyone. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself on. “Skala must have a queen again, if she is to survive. I have—I have something very odd to tell you, but …”

He turned desperately to Arkoniel. “I don’t know how to tell them. Help me, please!”

Arkoniel bowed, as if in answer to some stern order, and raised a hand to the crowd for their attention. Ki moved in beside Tobin and clasped his shoulder. Trembling, Tobin shot him a grateful look.

Arkoniel reached inside his plain tunic and pulled out a silver amulet of Illior. “Warriors of Atyion, some of you know me. I am Arkoniel, a free wizard of Skala, follower of Iya. My mistress and I are the chosen protectors of Prince Tobin, ordained by Illior Lightbearer through the Afran Oracle sixteen years ago. My mistress was granted a vision while Ariani’s children were still in the womb. You’ve all heard that the princess bore twins, and that the girl perished and the boy lived. That’s not completely true. My mistress and I witnessed the births that night, and have kept the truth of the matter a secret until today.

“I tell you now that it was the girl who lived, not the boy. By the will of Illior and for the sake of Skala, the girl child was by the most fearsome and difficult magics given the form of her dead brother in order to escape murder at the hands of the king and his minions. That girl child stands before you now as Prince Tobin!”

Silence. Tobin could hear ducks quacking on the moat beyond the wall, and dogs barking in the village. Then someone yelled, “That ain’t no girl!”

“What manner of magic could do such things?” a bearded Dalnan priest demanded, and his words set off a greater outcry, as the soldiers and townspeople who’d crowded into the bailey all began talking at once.

Tharin, Ki, and Lynx closed in around Tobin, hands on their sword hilts. Arkoniel’s knuckles went white as he clutched his wand, but it was the Illioran high priestess who stilled the crowd.

Kaliya clapped her hands over her head and a crack of thunder echoed between the walls. “Let them finish!” she cried. “Would I be standing here with them, and these my brethren of the other temples, if we did not think there was some meaning in their words? Let the wizard speak!”

Arkoniel bowed to her and resumed. “For fifteen years you have known this brave young warrior as the son of Rhius. Today, by the will of Illior, you are privileged to see her revealed at last as the true heir of the Skalan throne. You are blessed, people of Atyion. It is you who will bear witness that a rightful heir ordained by Illior has returned to you. You proved your good faith when you overthrew the traitor Solari. Put the seal on it by bearing sacred witness now with these priests of the Four.”

There were a few scattered exclamations and grumblings as Arkoniel motioned everyone away from Tobin.

“He’s too exposed! Can’t we do this inside the hall?” Tharin muttered.

“No, it must be seen. Please, Tharin, you must step back.”

Tharin gave Tobin a last tense look, and Ki and the others grudgingly moved aside with him, but only to the far end of the stairs. The priests did the same on the other side.

Though his friends were no more than twenty feet away, Tobin suddenly felt very alone and exposed. No one was cheering or chanting his name now. The bailey seemed like a sea of skeptical eyes.

Kaliya smiled, as if she sensed Tobin’s mounting fear and accepted it with compassion. The others watched with obvious unease.

Arkoniel came to Tobin and presented him with a thin silver knife; it had been Lhel’s. “She gave me this sometime ago. Use it with courage,” he whispered, kissing Tobin on both cheeks. He’d never done anything like that before. “Remember what I described to you. Begin with the doll. Be brave, Tobin. These are your people watching.”

My people . The entire throng seemed to be holding its breath. Clutching the knife, Tobin felt his fear seep away, leaving him with the same inner stillness he felt before battle. Even so, his hands shook as he pulled out the doll and felt for the hair cord in the fold of its neck. Slipping the tip of the blade under it, he cut it and let it fall away. Then he sliced open the worn muslin and emptied the crumbling herbs, yellowed wool, and all those bits of delicate bone from the doll’s body. Something small and shiny tumbled out, and bounced down the stone steps. It was the golden tablet bearing the Oracle’s words. He’d forgotten he’d hidden it there. It landed at the feet of a bearded sergeant, who hesitantly picked it up. When Arkoniel motioned him to stay where he was, he held it up, and whispered, “I hold on to it for you, shall I, my prince?”