— 23 —

Korin answered Caliel’s knock with a curt, “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Kor. Let me in.”

There was a pause, and for a moment Caliel thought Korin would refuse.

“It’s not locked.”

Caliel slipped inside and closed the door.

The royal chamber was better appointed than the other rooms of the fortress, at least by Cirna standards. The large, carved bedstead was fitted with heavy, dust-laden velvet hangings. A few faded tapestries hung on the walls.

Korin sat at the writing table in his shirtsleeves, looking worn and unhappy. His face was flushed with wine and a full mazer stood at his elbow. He appeared to be in the midst of writing a reply to Tobin’s letter, which lay before him. Caliel went to Korin and picked up the cup, glancing down as he did so at the sheet of parchment in front of him. Korin had gotten no further than, “To the pretender, Prince Tobin—”

He took a sip, watching for Korin’s reaction. He was glad to see no more than the usual level of irritation at the familiar liberty. He drew up another chair and sat down. “How are you?”

“Is that all you came to ask me?”

Caliel sat back and stretched out his long legs, pretending an ease he didn’t feel. “That herald got me curious. I thought I’d come see what all the fuss was about.”

Korin shrugged and tossed him Tobin’s letter. Caliel read the contents quickly and felt his heart skip a beat. Lutha had gotten most of it right, but it was even more shocking to see the words written out in Tobin’s own unmistakable scrawl.

Korin had reclaimed his mazer and was currently staring morosely into its depths. “Do you believe him?”

“I don’t know. Some of it—” I’m sorry I had to lie… I never meant any harm… be my brother still…I want things to be right and proper between us… “I do think you should meet with him, face-to-face.”

“No! Madman or necromancer’s monster, he’s a traitor, and I can’t be seen justifying his claim in any way.”

“Is that what Niryn counseled?”

“And he’s right!” Korin’s bloodshot eyes were wide now, and burning with a sudden, unreasoning fury. “Tobin haunts my dreams, Cal. I see him, all pale and leering, calling me usurper and a murderer’s son.” He rubbed at his eyes and shuddered.

“All the more reason to find out for yourself what his intentions really are.”

“I said no!” Korin snatched the letter back and slammed it down on the desk. He drained the cup and slammed that down, too.

“Damn it, Kor, I can’t believe you’re just going to take the word of others on this.”

“So you’re saying I should honor this—this request?”

“Korin, look at yourself! This is Niryn’s doing. He’s on you like a leech! He made you run from Ero. He brought you that ill-made girl you’ve got hidden away up in the tower. Is that how you treat a wife, Kor? A consort? Is this how the king of Skala lives? I say we gather your army tomorrow and ride for Ero. Parley with Tobin or fight him. Either way, you can see for yourself what the truth is!”

“I know the truth!”

“From who? Niryn’s hounds?” Desperate, Caliel leaned forward and captured Korin’s hand in his. “Listen to me, please. I’ve always been true to you, haven’t I?”

It hurt, the hesitation he saw before Korin nodded. Caliel pressed on. “Whatever Niryn has told you, you have my loyalty and my love, now and always! Let me go as your emissary. I know the city. I can slip in and be back in no time. I might even be able to talk to him. Give the word, Kor. I’ll go tonight!”

Korin wrenched his hand free. “No! I can’t spare you.”

“Spare me for what? Watching you drink yourself to death?”

“Take care, Caliel,” Korin growled.

“Lutha, then—”

“No! None of the Companions.” Something very close to fear flitted in Korin’s red-rimmed eyes. “Damn it, Caliel, why are you always fighting me? You used to be my friend!”

“And you used to know who your friends are!” Caliel stood and backed away, fists clenched helplessly at his sides. “Bilairy’s balls, Korin, I can’t just stand by and watch you piss away—”

“Get out!” Korin yelled, staggering up to his feet.

“Not until I’ve made you see sense!”

“I said get out!” Korin grabbed up the mazer and flung it at Caliel. It struck him in the face and cut across his cheekbone. The dregs stung the open wound.

The two young men stood staring at each other in shocked silence and Caliel saw that Korin had his hand on his sword hilt.

He slowly wiped his cheek with the back of one hand. It came away bloody. He held it out for Korin to see. “Is this what we’ve come to? You couldn’t even take an honest swing at me?”

For a moment Caliel was certain Korin would break into that shamefaced grin that had always won him over, the one that had always been enough to make Caliel forgive him anything. It was all it had ever taken and he ached to forgive him now.

Instead, Korin turned his back on him. “Things have changed. I am your king, and you will obey me. Good night.”

The curt dismissal stung far worse than the wound. “We’ve had some hard days,” he said quietly. “The world is out of joint right now. But remember this: I am your friend, and I have nothing in my heart for you but the same love I have always felt. If you can’t see that, then I pity you. I won’t stop being your friend, no matter how big an ass you make of yourself!” He had to stop and force down the lump of bitterness that was rising to choke him. “Sleep on your belly tonight, Kor. You’re drunker than you think.”

He slammed out and stalked back to his room. Alone, he threw his wine-stained coat aside and paced the bare floor.

I am your friend, damn you! What can I do for you? How can I help you?

Too agitated to sleep and longing for company, he thought of going to Lutha’s chamber. What did it say, he wondered darkly, when the youngest Companions were Caliel’s sole confidants? The last honest men.

“No, not the last ones,” he muttered.

Porion’s chamber was in the lower level of the keep, close to the guardroom. As Caliel made his way down through the torchlit corridors, the golden hawk ring on his forefinger caught his eye again, and he regarded it sadly, recalling Tobin’s shy smile the day he’d given it to him. It had been a gift, in return for all the time Caliel and their friend Arengil had spent teaching him falconry. Tobin was good with the birds, patient and gentle. He was like that about everything. Or had been, anyway. Caliel still couldn’t bring himself to take the ring off.

Porion answered the door in his shirtsleeves and raised an eyebrow at Caliel’s bloody cheek as he motioned him to the plain room’s only chair.

“What have you done to your face?” he asked, sitting down on the narrow bed.

Caliel dabbed the cut with his sleeve. “It’s nothing. I need to talk with you.”

“About King Korin.”

“Yes.”

Porion sighed. “I figured you’d come to me, sooner or later. Speak your mind, boy.”

Caliel smiled in spite of himself. The Companions would always be “boy” and “lad” to their old swordmaster. “I was just with him. The letter he got was from Tobin. He let me read it.”

“And what did Tobin have to say?”

“He claims outright to have changed into a girl. He didn’t explain, just said he had witnesses, including some Afran priests and most of Atyion.”

“What do you believe?”

“I don’t know.” Caliel fidgeted with the ring. “Fantastic as it sounds, it makes more sense than Tobin turning traitor, don’t you think?”

Porion ran a hand over his short grey beard and sighed. “You’re young, and you have a good heart. And thanks to Erius, you boys led a sheltered life for too long. I’ve lived through two queens and a king and seen what people are capable of when great power is involved. I’ve been thinking about Tobin, too. I always thought it was queer, him being kept away from court most of his life, off in secret.”

“His father was an honorable man, though, and served Erius all his life.”

Porion nodded. “I knew Rhius from a boy and I wouldn’t have thought him capable of intrigue like this. Still, he did keep more to himself after his marriage, and even more after that child was born. For all we know, he and that wizard of his were planning this all along, to avenge Erius’ taking Ariani’s place on the throne.”

Caliel shifted uneasily in his chair. “I didn’t come to speak of Tobin. Do you think Korin’s acting like himself?”

Porion picked up his scabbard and found a flask of mink oil in a box under the bed. The musky smell rose in the air between them as he worked it into the scarred leather. “You’ve been Korin’s friend longer than anyone else, but he’s not only your friend, nor was he ever. He’s the king. I didn’t like everything his father did, and I sure as hell didn’t care much for his grandmother, but the crown is the crown, and duty is duty. Korin’s young, and green, it’s true, but you know the worth in him.”

“You know him as well as I do, Porion. We’ve both seen his weaknesses, too—the drinking, and—” Caliel clenched his fists against his knees, hating what he had to say next. “He’s no good in battle. It wasn’t just that first time, against those bandits. He nearly got us all killed at Ero, then he let that damn wizard talk him into running!”

Porion kept at his work. “It takes time, with some.”

“Tobin—”

Porion looked up sharply, and Caliel was taken aback by the sudden anger in his old mentor’s eyes. “That’s enough, Caliel. I won’t hear it, you comparing the two of them. Korin is king, and that’s that. I served his father and now I serve him. If you don’t think you can do that, then it’s best if I know it now.”

“That’s not what I’m saying! I love Korin. I’d lay down my life for him. But I can’t stand by any longer while that serpent ruins what’s left of him! Bilairy’s balls, Porion, you’re not going to tell me you think this great friendship between them is natural? How can you sit there in the hall night after night, seeing that cur in Tobin’s place—”

“Tobin again, is it?” Porion regarded him levelly. “That name is on your lips a great deal, my lord.”

Caliel went cold. Porion had been his swordmaster since he was a boy, a friend and a good teacher. He was looking at him now with the same distrust that Korin had earlier, taking his measure.

“Something isn’t right with that, Porion. That’s all I’m trying to say.”

“Times change, lad. People change. But the crown’s the crown, and duty is duty. You’re old enough to understand that.”

“You’re saying I should just keep my mouth shut and let Lord Niryn have his way?”

“Who the king chooses for his councilors is his concern. The best you can do is stand by him. Can you look me in the eye and swear your loyalty to him?”

Caliel met the old man’s gaze unflinchingly. “I swear by the Flame and all the Four, I serve Korin as my friend and my king.”

Porion wiped more oil on the scabbard. “I believe you, but there are those close to the king who think otherwise.”

“Niryn, you mean? I know. Moriel’s under my feet all the time, spying for him. He can lurk all he likes. I’ve done nothing I’m ashamed of.”

Porion shrugged. “All the same, watch your step, lad. That’s all I’m saying.”

The exchange, with its hint of a threat, upset Caliel even more than his argument with Korin, and not only because the man had questioned his loyalty. His bedchamber had all the allure of a tomb. Instead, he went out and walked the battlements, warring silently with himself.

Porion’s admonishments had cut deep; in his heart Caliel did feel disloyal. But his fear for Korin was real, too. Now it seemed that Niryn had even won over Porion. He and Lutha were truly the only ones left who could see that Korin was growing weaker under Niryn’s influence.

He wandered down to the courtyard well for a drink, still trying to figure out what to do. Somehow, he didn’t think murdering Niryn in his sleep was his best plan, tempting as it was.

He was still fretting when he heard a door open. He glanced in that direction, then hastily crouched down behind the low well. It was Moriel, and he had one of the Harrier captains with him, a tall man named Seneus. The pair stopped in the shelter of a farrier’s shed. The Toad looked around carefully, then took a purse from his belt and gave it to the Harrier.

“Station your men on all the roads and have someone follow when he leaves.”

“I know my business!” Seneus snorted. “I’ve hunted wizards, you know. This one shouldn’t give any trouble.” He weighed the purse, then opened it. “This better all be gold. I’m courting Astellus’ curse.”

“It is, and more than enough for any offerings to lift it,” Moriel replied. “But what does a Sakor man like you care for the watery Traveler, eh? My master will give you more, when you bring back the king’s letter. Go on now, and do your duty.”

Caliel caught his breath as the import of the conversation came clear. The only Astellian in the keep tonight was Tobin’s herald.

He waited until both men were safely gone, then slipped back up to his room. He quickly put on his hauberk, then a plain tunic and cloak over it, and buckled on his sword. He didn’t allow himself to pause as he passed Korin’s door, or the corridor leading to Lutha’s. He and Barieus must remain blameless.

Instead, he stole across the shadowy yard to the kitchen entrance and the rooms set aside for heralds there. There were several, but only one with a pair of boots outside the door.

He scratched softly, keeping an eye out for watchmen. The herald answered, yawning, his long yellow hair loose around his shoulders. “Is it dawn already?” He broke off in surprise as Caliel pushed him back into the room and closed the door. “Lord Caliel, what are you doing here?”

“Did King Korin give you a message to carry back to Prince Tobin?”

“You know I can’t tell you that, my lord.”

“I come as a friend. There’s a plot on your life, to keep that message from being delivered. I mean to ride for Atyion right now. I’ll carry it, and you can leave by another way. I swear by your Traveler and all the Four, this is the truth.”

“I cannot, my lord, though it means my life.”

Caliel ran a hand over his face in frustration. “The message will be lost. You’re already wounded. You’ll be no match for the men being sent after you.”

The man smiled and held up his bandaged arm. “As you can see, heralds are not so easily caught. There were twenty brigands, and I came away with my life and my message. There are other roads I can take, thanks to your warning.”

“You’ll be watched from the moment you leave the gate. There’ll probably be a wizard in the pack.”

“So you say, my lord, and again, I’m grateful, but my duty is sacred. I cannot do as you ask.”

Caliel shook his head, caught between the desire to knock the man out for his own good, and admiration for his courage. “You’ll be dead by sunset tomorrow.”

“That is for Astellus to decide, my lord.”

“Well, I hope your god loves you. Will you keep this conversation to yourself?”

The herald bowed. “You were never here, my lord.”

Leaving the man to his fate, Caliel went back to the yard and left by a small postern gate on the seaward side. Moriel’s henchmen wouldn’t have had time to set their ambush yet and would be looking for a herald with a blond braid when they did. If he didn’t hesitate, he might have a chance.

With no immediate threat of attack from without, the guards were lax. He slipped out unchallenged and followed a rough footpath along the cliffs, then stole a horse from a picket line. He smiled darkly to himself as he rode off, thinking with satisfaction of the bad report he could make of the Harrier officers when he got back.

The high road shone like a pale ribbon before him in the starlight. The farther he got from that cursed fortress, the lighter his heart felt. By dawn he was miles away, watching the sun come up over the Inner Sea. In a few days he’d see for himself if Tobin was friend or foe. The cut on his cheek was already scabbed over, the hurt Korin had done him already forgiven. With Korin’s faith or without it, Caliel would serve his king the best way he could.

He looked down at the ring again. If you are still our friend, then Korin needs you. If not, I’ll deal with you myself, for his sake and in his name.