Lynn Flewelling - The Bone Doll's Twin

Just then Tobin heard a soft step behind him and smelled wood smoke and crushed green shoots. Lhel’s black hair tickled his cheek as she pulled his head down on her breast.

“I tell you a true thing now, keesa,” she whispered. “Your father, he make this city for you and you for this city.”

“What do you mean?” He pulled away and found himself alone in the moonlight.

“What’re you doing in here?” Ki mumbled, leaning sleepily in the doorway. When Tobin didn’t reply, Ki shuffled over and led him back to bed. Sprawling down beside him with a hand pressed over Tobin’s heart, he was asleep again as soon as his eyes closed.

Tobin wanted to puzzle out what Lhel could have meant, but the sure pressure of Ki’s hand and the witch’s lingering scent lulled him to sleep, free of dreams for now.

Erius didn’t wait long. Less than two weeks after Tharin’s return Arkoniel glanced out his workroom window to see a cloud of dust rising on the Alestun road.

It would take at least a squadron of riders to raise such a cloud, and Arkoniel had no doubt who’d sent them.

Cursing himself for not being more vigilant, he was about to cast a sighting for the boys when he spied them at the far end of the meadow. Half naked as always in the heat, they crouched under a thick clump of willow bay by the riverbank.

“Run!” Arkoniel called out, knowing they couldn’t see the dust rising from there, or hear the horses over the river noise. They couldn’t hear him, either, of course, but something spooked them. They took off through the long grass, making for the woods on the far side of the meadow.

“Good boys,” he whispered.

“Riders!” Tharin shouted in the yard below.

He and the others had been making repairs to the barracks roof. Tharin stood there now, shading his eyes with one hand as he looked up at the wizard. “Who is it?” he called.

Arkoniel covered his eyes and quickly cast the sighting. “Two score or so armed men coming on at a gallop. They’re led by a King’s Herald, and a nobleman—I don’t know him.”

“What colors?”

“I’m not sure, with the dust,” Arkoniel replied. The tunics he could see could easily be grey. When he opened his eyes again, Tharin had already disappeared down the ladder.

The wizard’s legs felt shaky as he locked up his rooms and dashed downstairs. What if there was a Harrier wizard among those riders? He had no idea what powers he was facing, or if he had the skill to best them.

He met Nari coming out of Tobin’s room. “I saw riders!” she exclaimed, wringing her hands. “Oh Arkoniel, what if something’s happened at last? What if they know?”

“Calm yourself. I think it’s only a herald,” he told her, convincing neither of them. Together, they ran down the stairs and found Tharin and the others armed and ready in the hall.

“Quite an escort for a messenger, wouldn’t you say?” Tharin observed grimly.

“It won’t do for them to see me here,” Arkoniel told him. “You greet them. I’ll find the boys and keep them out of sight until we see which way the wind is blowing. Send Koni down the meadow for us if you think it’s safe.”

“Let me come, too!” begged Nari.

“No. Stay here and welcome them.”

He slipped out the front gate and ran for the woods. He could hear the riders clearly now. They’d be in sight any moment.

He was halfway down to the river when Lhel’s face and shoulders shimmered into view in front of him. “Here!” she urged, pointing him back to a spot he’d just passed.

Arkoniel dashed into the trees, then let out a startled cry as the ground went out from under him. He tumbled down a small slope and found himself at the bottom of a leaf-choked gully just inside the trees. He landed with his feet uphill and one arm in a muddy runnel. Righting himself, he climbed back up to join Lhel and the boys, keeping watch over the edge of the gully. In their stained kilts, with dead leaves stuck to their arms and legs, and knives at the ready, Tobin and Ki looked like a pair of young forest bandits.

“Who’s coming?” Tobin asked, watching the mouth of the road.

“Just a messenger from the king, I hope.” “Then why did Brother tell Tobin to hide?” Ki demanded.

“Well, he does have rather a lot—You say Brother told you?” He glanced at the witch. “But I assumed—”

“I be watching, too.” Lhel waved toward the road. “Brother say there’s a wizard with them.”

“Is it those Harriers?” Ki asked.

“I don’t know.” Arkoniel felt for the crystal wand in his belt pouch, praying he and Lhel together could hold them off long enough for Tharin to get Tobin away. “We must be very careful until we find out.”

Tobin nodded, showing no hint of fear. Ki left his side just long enough to find a stout stick, then settled back beside the prince, ready to face down a legion of wizards.

The riders emerged from the forest and thundered up the hill to the bridge. Creeping to the edge of the trees for a better look, Arkoniel could make out their leader speaking with someone at the gate. A dozen or so of the newcomers went in, leaving the rest to water the horses at the river.

There was nothing to do now but wait. The dust cloud hung over the road. Cicadas sawed out a hot-weather warning. A murder of crows argued loudly among themselves nearby, underscored by the mournful bell-like calls of doves. A moment later they heard the single, unexpected hoot of an owl. Arkoniel made a luck sign for reverence and mouthed Lightbearer, keep your hand over this child!

Time dragged on. Tobin caught a shiny green beetle and let it crawl over his fingers, but Ki remained watchful, eyes darting to follow every sound.

Tobin looked up from his beetle suddenly and whispered, “The wizard is a man with yellow hair.”

“Are you certain?” Arkoniel asked. This was the first time in months that Tobin had shown any signs of foreknowing.

“That’s what Brother says,” the boy replied, looking to the empty air next to him for confirmation.

So it wasn’t foreknowing after all, but forewarned. For once the wizard had cause to be grateful to the ghost.

At last Koni came running along the verge of trees. Arkoniel turned to warn Lhel, but she’d already disappeared.

“Here!” Ki called, hailing the young soldier.

Koni skidded to a halt and bounded in to join them.

“The king—” he panted. “The king’s sent a lord with a message. Lord Orun.”

“Orun?” Arkoniel had heard the name but couldn’t place it.

Koni rolled his eyes. “Old Lord High and Mighty. Knows Tobin’s family from way back. He’s Chancellor of the Treasury now. A great pompous—Well, never mind that. Tharin says you should come up now. We’re to go around the back if you can manage it. Nari will have clothes for you in the kitchen, Tobin.” He turned to Arkoniel. “There’s no sign of them white wizards with ’em, nor any others, but Tharin says maybe you ought to lie low all the same.”

“No wizard?” Tobin had sounded very certain on the matter. Best not to take chances. “Don’t worry, Tobin. I won’t be far away.”

Tobin barely acknowledged the assurance. Squaring his bare shoulders, he set off for the keep without a backward glance.

Tobin wasn’t afraid. Brother was still with him and would have said if it were dangerous to go back. And Ki was there, too, faithful as any squire in a ballad. Tobin glanced sidelong at his friend and smiled; armed with a knife and a twisted branch, Ki looked as fearless as he had charging that catamount.

They reached the kitchen without meeting any of the strangers. Nari and Cook were waiting for them there.

“Hurry along now, pet. Lord Orun won’t speak to anyone but you, and he’s in an almighty hurry,” Nari fussed as she hustled them into their best tunics and combed the leaves from their hair. She didn’t say so, but Tobin could tell that she didn’t like this Orun fellow any better than Koni had. He could see that she was worried and trying not to show it. Tobin leaned forward and kissed her soft cheek. “Don’t worry, Nari.”