Lynn Flewelling - The Bone Doll's Twin

He could see Tobin taking all this in and weighing it. At last he set his jaw and nodded. “Then I don’t have to be polite to Lord Orun, even though he’s a guest?”

“He’s behaved offensively. You owe him nothing more than the assurance of safety beneath your roof. You’ve given him that already, calling off Brother.” Arkoniel smiled again. “That was nicely done, by the way. Tell me, if you asked Brother to cause a stir, would he do it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never asked him to do anything, only to stop.”

“Would you like to find out?”

Tobin frowned. “I won’t have him hurt anyone. Not even Orun.”

“Of course not. But Lord Orun doesn’t need to know that, does he? You must go downstairs now and inform our guest that you will need until tomorrow to put your household in good order.”

“What if he says no?”

“Then I hope that Brother will be good enough to convey your displeasure. Is he here now? No? Why not call him?”

Tobin still looked faintly embarrassed as he spoke the summoning, although it wasn’t the first time the wizard had seen him do it. Arkoniel felt a change in the air, and knew by the way Tobin turned his head slightly that Brother had appeared behind him. The wizard shifted uneasily on his stool, not liking the thought of an unseen guest at his back.

“Will you help me?” Tobin asked.

“What does he say?”

“Nothing. But I think he will.” Tobin thought of something and frowned. “Where is Lord Orun to sleep, if he stays the night? The only guest chamber we have is next to your room up here.”

Arkoniel knew that Rhius and Ariani’s bedchambers could be offered, but hated the thought of that creature so close to the boys. “I suppose we could put him in the tower.” He’d meant it as a joke, but Tobin’s stricken look killed the smile on his lips. “It was only a jest, Tobin, and a bad one. He can make do with the hall. Have the servants set up a good bedstead with hangings for him, and a decent one for the herald, as well. They can hardly complain about that in a country house.”

Tobin turned to go, but a sudden pang of fear and affection made Arkoniel call him back. When Tobin stood before him, however, he hardly knew where to begin. Laying a hand awkwardly on Tobin’s shoulder, he said, “You will have to go with him, you know. And life will be different in the city. You’ve led such a quiet life here, with people you could trust. It isn’t that way at court.” He groped for the right words. “If anyone should—”

Tobin’s face betrayed little, but his rigid stance and the darting glance he stole at the hand on his shoulder made the wizard draw back in confusion. “Well, you must have a care for strangers,” he finished lamely. “If anything confuses you, you should speak of it to Tharin or Ki. They both have a wider experience of the world than you.” With a final burst of false heartiness, he waved Tobin off to the door. “You’ll soon find your feet.”

As soon as the door closed behind the boy, Arkoniel sank his face into his hands. “That was a fine send-off!” he berated himself, wondering why the god’s will and two years of good intentions had gotten him no further into Tobin’s good graces than this. He’d fought Iya to be here, to help Tobin see what a normal life might be. He wanted nothing more than to protect him from treacherous men like Orun, or at least to warn him. A fine attempt he’d made, too, just now. He might just as well have summoned snakes from the walls and grown himself a second head.

Tobin forgot all about Arkoniel’s last cryptic advice, pondering instead the revelation that he was within his rights to defy the unpleasant man downstairs. By the time he reached his room, he was looking forward to putting this newfound bit of knowledge to the test.

Brother still shadowed him silently. For years Tobin had been too scared of the spirit to do anything but avoid him. Once they’d established their uneasy truce Brother had sometimes offered information, like the unexpected tattling on Lord Solari, but Tobin had never thought to seek any from him.

He paused at the far end of the corridor and whispered, “Will you help me? Will you scare Lord Orun if he insults me again?”

Brother gave him what might have been meant as the mocking semblance of a smile. Your enemies are my enemies.

At his own door he could hear Nari weeping. Inside, he found her and Ki packing their small collection of belongings into chests. His father’s arms and sword were lashed into a bundle in a corner. Tharin stood by the foot of the bed, looking uncommonly dour.

Everyone looked to him as he came in.

“I’ve laid out your best tunic,” Nari told him, wiping her eyes on her apron. “You’ll be wanting your carving things, and your books. I suppose we can always send along anything we miss.”

Tobin drew himself up and announced, “I’m not going tonight. Our guests should be made comfortable in the hall.”

“But Lord Orun ordered …”

“This is my house and I give the orders in it.” Seeing the way they stared at him, he added sheepishly. “At least that’s what Arkoniel says. I have to go tell Lord Orun now. Will you come with me, Tharin?”

“We’re yours to command, my prince,” Tharin replied; then, aside to Ki, “We wouldn’t want to miss this.”

Grinning, Ki followed them as far as the top of the grand staircase, where he gave Tobin a wink of encouragement before hiding himself to watch.

With Tharin on his left and Brother before him, Tobin felt a bit bolder as he descended into the great hall again. Orun was pacing around the hearth, looking very put out. The herald and several soldiers were sitting nearby at a wine table, the blond wizard among them.

“Well, then, are you prepared to leave?” Orun demanded.

“No, my lord,” said Tobin, trying to sound like his father. “I must put my household in order and see that my things are properly packed for the journey. I’ll go with you tomorrow as early as can be arranged. Until then, you shall be my guest. A feast will be prepared for the evening and a bed set up for you here by the hearth.”

Orun halted and stared up at him, grey brows rising toward his hat. “You’ll what? ”

Brother began to stalk the man, flowing down toward him smooth and low as fog on the river.

“I did not come all the way to this benighted backwater to be answered back to by—”

Lord Orun’s ill-fated hat flew off again. This time it landed in the middle of the smoldering hearth behind him, where it blossomed into a malodorous crimson burst of burnt silk and feathers. Orun’s hands flew to his bald pate, then curled into angry fists as he rounded on Tobin. Brother yanked at his sleeve, scattering golden beads, then crouched to spring at him, teeth bared.

“Stop,” Tobin whispered in alarm, hoping he didn’t have to speak the command spell in front of all these people. Brother subsided and faded from view.

“Have a care, my lord!” The blond wizard took Orun’s arm, steadying him.

Lord Orun pulled away from him, then turned to give Tobin a false smile. “As you wish, Your Highness. But I fear the spirit that haunts this hall! Haven’t you a more hospitable chamber to offer a guest?”

“No, my lord, I do not. But I assure you by my honor that none who wish me well will come to harm under my roof. Will you ride with me until the feast is prepared?”

It was frustrating to hide himself away at the top of the house, but Arkoniel contented himself with keeping watch. Since he’d seen no evidence of the wizard Brother had spoken of, he allowed himself the occasional sighting, following Tobin as he and his companions led Orun and a few of his escort a merry chase over a torturous mountain trail.