Lynn Flewelling - The Bone Doll's Twin

He waited quietly, praying for some answering sign. All he could see, however, was Sakor’s fiery sun staring him in the face. He sighed and began composing a letter to Iya, trying to convince her to come back from her long wandering and help him. He hadn’t heard from her in months, though, and wasn’t even sure where to send it to reach her.

He hadn’t gotten very far with this when he heard the gate open behind him. Tharin strode out to join him on the bridge. Sitting down beside the wizard, he stared out over the meadow, hands clasped between his knees. His face was pale and deeply lined with grief. The morning light leeched the color from his eyes.

“You’re exhausted,” said Arkoniel.

Tharin nodded slowly.

“What do you think will happen now?”

“That’s what I came out to talk to you about. The king spoke with me at Rhius’ pyre. He means to send for Tobin. He wants him in Ero with Prince Korin and the Companions.”

It was hardly a surprising turn of events, but Arkoniel’s gut tightened all the same. “When?”

“I’m not certain. Soon. I asked him to give the boy some time, but he didn’t give me an answer on that. I don’t imagine he wants Tobin out of his reach for too long.”

“What do you mean?”

Tharin didn’t answer at once, just stared out at the deer. At last he sighed and said, “I knew you as a boy when you and Iya guested in Atyion. Since you’ve been here I’ve seen the man you’ve become. I’ve always liked you and I believe I can trust you, especially where Tobin is concerned. That’s why I’m about to put my life in your hands.” He turned and looked Arkoniel in the eye. “But if you prove me wrong, by the Four, you’ll have to kill me to put me off your trail. Do we understand one another?”

Arkoniel knew this was no idle threat. Yet behind the man’s harsh words he also heard fear, not for himself but for Tobin.

Arkoniel held up his right hand and pressed his left over his heart. “By my hands, heart, and eyes, Sir Tharin, I swear to you I will lay down my life to protect Rhius and Ariani’s child. What is it you want to say to me?”

“I have your word you’ll tell no one else?”

“Iya and I have no secrets, but I can vouch for her as I do myself.”

“Very well. I’ve no one else to turn to anyway. First of all, I believe the king wanted Rhius dead. I think he may have even had a hand in getting him killed.”

Arkoniel had little experience of court, but even he realized that Tharin had just placed his life in Arkoniel’s hands twice over. Tharin must have known it, too, but he didn’t hesitate as he went on. “Ever since the princess died Erius has pushed Rhius into the worst of any battle. Rhius saw it, too, but he had too much honor to say so. But some of the orders we followed were just foolhardy. There are hundreds of good Skalan warriors who’d still be upright and drawing breath in Atyion and Cirna if the king had shown a bit more sense in his placement of attacks.

“The day Rhius was killed, Erius ordered us into marshland on horseback. We were ambushed as we tried to get out the other side.”

“What makes you think the king had anything to do with that?”

Tharin gave him a bitter smile. “You don’t know much about cavalry, do you, Wizard? You don’t send horsemen into such ground in the summer, with no decent footing and no cover. And not when there’s a good chance of the enemy being well entrenched on the other side and all ears for your approach. An arrow took Rhius in the thigh before we got anywhere near solid ground. I was struck in the shoulder, and another shaft killed my horse under me. I fell and he charged on—It was a damn massacre. There must have been two or three hundred foot soldiers and archers, and if they weren’t waiting just for us then someone was making damn poor use of their forces. Even with the arrow wound, Rhius fought like a wolf, but Laris told me a pikeman killed the duke’s horse and took him down. Rhius was pinned under the beast and the enemy was on him with axes before—Before I could get to him.”

A tear rolled down and clung to the stubble on Tharin’s cheek. “The life was running out of him by the time I found him. We got him away, but there was nothing we could do.”

More tears fell, but Tharin didn’t seem to notice. Something told Arkoniel that he’d grown accustomed to weeping. “Rhius felt Bilairy coming for him. He pulled me down close and spoke so only I could hear. His last words in this life were, ‘Protect my child with your life, by any means. Tobin must rule Skala.’”

Arkoniel’s breath caught in his chest. “He said that to you?”

Tharin looked him in the eye, holding his gaze. “I thought then that it must be death addling his thoughts. But looking at your face right now, I think I’m about to change my mind. Do you know what he meant?”

Trust your instincts , Iya had counseled before she left. Those instincts had always told him to trust Tharin. All the same, Arkoniel felt like a man about to leap off a high cliff with only mist below. The secret was a danger to whoever carried it.

“I do. It’s all Iya and I have worked for since before Tobin was born. But you must tell me truthfully, can you still serve Tobin knowing no more than you do right now?”

“Yes. Only—”

Arkoniel studied Tharin’s stricken face as the man groped for words. “You’re wondering why Rhius didn’t tell you more … before?”

Tharin nodded, mouth pressed in a tight line.

“Because he couldn’t,” Arkoniel said gently. “Rhius never doubted your loyalty; you must believe that. One day I’ll be able to explain everything to you and you’ll understand. But don’t ever doubt the duke’s faith in you. He proved it with his last breath, Tharin. What he passed to you was the most sacred trust of his life.

“What Tobin needs now is protection, and allies later on. How many troops could we summon today if we needed them?”

Tharin rubbed a hand over his beard. “Tobin’s not quite twelve, Arkoniel. That’s too young to command, too young even to inspire much of a following without a powerful lord to back him.” He pointed back at the keep. “Nyanis and Solari are good men, but Rhius was the warlord who led. If Tobin were sixteen or seventeen, say—perhaps even fifteen—it might be a different story, but as things stand, the only close kin he has with any power is the king. Still—”

“Yes?”

“Between you and me, there are those among the nobles who won’t stand by and watch any child of the female line of Skala come to harm, and others with good cause to remember who Tobin’s father was.”

“You know who these nobles are? Whom Tobin can trust?”

“There are few people I’d stake my life on, the court being what it is these days, but I’ve spent my life at the duke’s side and in his confidence. I have a fair sense of how the wind blows.”

“Tobin will need your guidance there. What about the soldiers who owed their loyalty to Rhius?”

“The common men are tied to the lands they work. By right, they serve whoever holds those. Until Tobin is of age to lead, I imagine that will be whoever the king wants it to be.” He shook his head. “A lot can change between now and then, I’m afraid. Erius is sure to appoint his own regents and stewards for the estates.”

“Too much has changed already for the child,” murmured Arkoniel. “All the same, he’s fortunate to have a man as loyal as you to stand by him.”

Tharin clapped Arkoniel on the shoulder and stood up. “Some serve for loyalty or glory, some for pay,” he said gruffly. “I served Rhius for love, and Tobin, too.”

“Love.” Arkoniel looked up, struck by something in the man’s tone. “I’ve never thought to ask before. You have an estate somewhere. Do you have a family of your own there?”