Lynn Flewelling - The Bone Doll's Twin

“Ki, no!” Tobin shouted, catching at his ankle.

But Ki laughed. “Come on, it’s only Ahra!”

“Ahra? Your sister?” Tobin followed, but hung back shyly. Ahra was often a rather formidable character in Ki’s stories.

The rider saw them and reined in sharply. “That you, Ki?”

It was a woman after all, but not like any Tobin had ever seen. She wore the same sort of leather armor over mail that his father’s men did, and a bow and longsword hung at her back. Her hair was dark brown like Ki’s, and worn braided in front, wild behind. She didn’t look much like him, otherwise, being only a half sister.

She swung down and grabbed her brother in a hug that lifted him off the ground. “It is you, boy! Skinny as ever, but you’ve grown two spans!”

“What’re you doing here?” Ki demanded as she let him down.

“Come to see how you was faring.” Ahra spoke with the same flat, country accent that Ki had had when he first came to the keep. “I met that wizard woman of yours on the road a few weeks back and she asked me to bring a letter to another wizard here—friend of hers. Said you’d worked in here well enough, too.” She grinned at Tobin. “Who’s this one with mud between his toes? Iya didn’t say nothing about another boy sent to serve the prince.”

“Mind your mouth,” Ki warned. “That is the prince!”

Tobin stepped forward to greet her and the woman dropped to one knee before him, head bent. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I didn’t know you!”

“How would you? Please, get up!” Tobin urged, embarrassed to have anyone kneel to him.

Ahra stood and shot Ki a dark look. “You mighta said.”

“Didn’t give me a chance, did you?”

“I’m glad to meet you,” Tobin said, clasping hands with her. Now that his initial surprise had passed, he was very curious about her and delighted to finally meet one of Ki’s kin. “My father’s not here, but you’re welcome to guest with us.”

“I’d be most honored, Highness, but my captain only give me ’til nightfall. Rest of the company’s back in Alestun buying supplies. We’re bound for Ylani to fend off the summer raiders.”

“I figured you’d be gone to Mycena with Jorvai and Father and all,” said Ki.

She let out a snort and Tobin got a glimpse of her famous temper. “ They went, all the boys right down to your mam’s Amin, just year older’n you. Gone for a runner. But the king still wants no women in the ranks with him, by Sakor. Left us with the old men and cripples to watch the coastline.”

Ahra gave Ki news of home as the three of them walked up to the house. Their fourth mother, who was only a year older than Ahra, had birthed twins soon after Ki left home and was pregnant again. Five of the younger children had been taken with fever, but only two had died. The house was quieter with the seven eldest gone; the war had come in time to save Alon from being taken up as a horse thief by a neighboring knight. Even though this was old news, Ki vigorously defended his brother’s innocence in the matter all the same, outraged at the charge.

Tobin took all this in with mounting delight; he knew all these people through Ki’s stories and here was one of them in the flesh. He liked Ahra, too, and decided Ki had exaggerated her bad points a bit. Like him, she was blunt and open, with no secrets behind her dark eyes. All the same, it was strange to see a woman carrying a sword.

Nari met them as they came across the bridge, and her scowl stopped all three in their tracks. “Prince Tobin, who’s this and what’s she doing here?”

“Ki’s sister,” he told her. “You know, the one who tried to leap her horse over the hog pen and fell in.”

“Ahra, is it?” Nari softened at once.

Ahra glared at Ki. “You been telling tales on me, have you?”

Nari laughed. “That he has! You’ll find you’ve no secrets with Ki about. Come in, girl, and eat with us. Cook will be glad to see a woman in armor again!”

They were listening to Cook trade stories with Ahra about her fighting days when Arkoniel came in with that smug, comfortable look he always had when he’d been with Lhel on his own.

That changed when he saw Ahra. He looked even less pleased than Nari until Ahra handed him Iya’s letter.

“Well, if she sent you,” he muttered. “I suppose I should have had Ki write to his mother before now.”

“Wouldn’t do no good if he did,” Ahra told him with stiff dignity. “Can’t none of us read.”

Ki colored as if he’d been caught doing something shameful.

“What can you tell us of the war?” Tobin asked.

“Last news I had is a good month old. The king met up with the Mycenian Elders at Nanta and a fleet went down the coast to engage the Plenimarans at the frontier. I heard your father well spoken of, Prince Tobin. Word is he’s at the front of every battle, the king’s right hand.”

“Have you been in the capital recently?” asked Arkoniel.

Ahra nodded. “We come through there a week back. Two ships were burned at anchor when the harbormaster found plague aboard. When it turned out that some of the sailors had got ashore already and gone into a tavern, the deathbirds come and nailed it up with them in it and burned ’em for plague bringers.”

“What are deathbirds?” Tobin asked.

“They’re something like a healer,” Arkoniel told him, though his look of distaste belied the explanation. “They go about the country trying to keep plague from coming in at the ports. They wear masks with long fronts on them that look like beaks. The beak part is filled with herbs to keep off the plague. That’s why people call them deathbirds.”

“There’s plenty of Harriers about making trouble, too,” Ahra told him, and again Tobin didn’t know what she meant, except that she didn’t think much of them.

“Have there been any more executions in the city?”

Ahra nodded. “Three more, one of them a priest. People don’t like it much, but no one dares speak against them, not since the arrests a few months back.”

“That’s enough about that,” said Cook. “I think the boys might like to see how a woman fights, don’t you? You’re the first Prince Tobin has ever met still in armor.”

They finished the visit with a bout of swordplay in the barracks yard. Ahra fought hard and dirty, and showed the boys a few new ways of tripping up and backhanding an opponent.

“That’s no way to be teaching the king’s nephew!” Nari objected, watching from a safe distance.

“No, let them have at it,” said Cook. “No one pays attention to titles or birthrights in battle. A young warrior can do with a few tricks up his sleeve.”

Arkoniel remained in the kitchen, committing Iya’s letter to memory so he could burn it. To anyone else, it would appear to be nothing more than a rambling account of people Iya had met in her recent travels. However, when Arkoniel muttered the correct words over it, the spell silvered a few letters here and there, revealing the true message. It was still cryptic, but clear enough to send a nasty jolt of dread through him.

Three more friends lost to flames. The hounds still hunt but have not struck a scent. Come White or Grey, flee. I keep my distance. Illior watch over you.

Grey or White. Arkoniel imagined a column of such riders coming up through the meadow and shivered. He tossed the letter into the fire and watched until it was completely consumed.

“Illior watch over you, too,” he whispered, knocking the ashes to bits with the poker.

Messengers from Mycena began to arrive by early Gorathin. From then on, all through the summer and the long winter that followed, the boys lived from dispatch to dispatch. The duke wrote infrequently; each letter was read and reread until the parchment was limp and dog-eared. The king returned to Ero for the winter, but left the bulk of his force on the frontier. As one of his most valued commanders, Rhius remained, camped with his armies on the western bank of the Eel River. The Plenimarans did the same on their side of the water and when spring came the fighting broke out anew.