It was a boy.
Tobin’s heart sank. This must be the companion they’d promised him. They hadn’t forgotten about that after all, even though he had.
The boy was taller than he was, and looked older. His tunic was embroidered, but frayed at the hems and patched under one arm. His shoes were stained and his trousers were bound from ankle to knee with twine. Nari would have scolded Tobin for being so poorly turned out. The boy looked Tobin’s way just then, and the firelight struck his face. His skin was ruddy from the sun, and his thick brown hair fell in ragged bangs over his forehead. His dark eyes were wide now with trepidation as he looked around the hall. Tobin braced for the worst as Nari urged him into the light. Did this boy already know he was odd?
As soon as the boy noticed him, however, he made Tobin a quick, clumsy bow.
Tharin gave him a reassuring smile. “Prince Tobin, this is Kirothius, son of Sir Larenth of Oakmount Stead at Co-lath. He’s come to be your companion.”
Tobin returned the bow, then held up his hand for the warrior’s clasp as his father had taught him. Kirothius managed a small smile as he gripped it. His palm felt like a soldier’s: hard and callused.
“Welcome to the house of my father,” said Tobin. “I am honored—” It took a moment to summon the rest of the host’s ritual greeting; he’d never had to offer it by himself before. “I am honored to offer you the hospitality of my hearth, Kirothius, son of Larenth.”
“I am honored to accept, Prince Tobin.” Kirothius ducked his head again in a half bow. His front teeth were big and stuck out a little.
Tharin gave him a wink and Tobin felt a stab of jealousy. His friend already seemed to approve of this newcomer.
“And this is Mistress Iya,” said Arkoniel, introducing the old woman. “I’ve told you a little about her, my prince. She is my teacher, just as I am yours.”
“I am most glad to make your acquaintance, Prince Tobin,” Iya said, bowing. “Arkoniel had written me many good things about you.”
“Thank you, Mistress.” Tobin felt held by her eyes and voice. She might dress like a peasant, but there was an air of power about her that made him tremble a little.
All the same, when she smiled he saw kindness and a hint of amusement in her colorless eyes as she placed a hand on the new boy’s shoulder. “I hope that young Kirothius here will serve you well. He prefers to be called Ki, by the way, if you have no objection?”
“No, Mistress Iya. Welcome to the house of my father,” Tobin replied, bowing again.
The instant the words left his lips the room went cold and Brother came down the stairs like a hurricane, whipping new tapestries from the walls and scattering sparks from the hearth across the rushes in great swirling clouds. Ki cried out as an ember struck his cheek, then jumped to stand between Tobin and the fire.
With the wind came a deep, slow throbbing sound, like the beating of a huge drum. Tobin had never heard such a sound; it went through him and shook his heart in his chest. A loud buzzing noise filled his ears—it reminded him of something bad but he couldn’t quite recall what.
The wizard woman stood calmly in the midst of it all with nothing but her lips moving. Brother, no more than a dark blur of motion, flung a bench at her, but it veered away and toppled over on its side.
Brother whirled on Ki then and yanked on his cloak, trying to pull him into the fire. Tobin grabbed at the older boy’s arm as Ki fought to untie the lacings at his throat. They came free and both boys tumbled backward as the cloak pulled free and disappeared into the rafters.
As Tobin righted himself he caught the look of terror in Ki’s eyes and the sight burned him with shame.
Now he’s sure to hate me! he thought, knowing it was his fault for being so careless. He never should have gone to sleep without sending Brother away. Turning away from the others, he whispered, “Blood my blood, flesh my flesh, bone my bone. Go away, Brother. Leave them alone!”
The wind dropped instantly. The furniture stopped moving and silence fell over the room. The beautiful new newel post at the bottom of the staircase split down the middle with a loud crack that made them all jump, then Brother was gone.
When Tobin turned around again, both wizards were watching him as if they knew what he’d been doing. Iya stared at him for a long moment, then said something to Arkoniel, too low for Tobin to hear.
Ki got up and offered Tobin a hand. “Are you hurt, Prince Tobin?” A blister was already rising on his cheek.
“No.”
Ki was staring at Tobin, too, but he didn’t look angry. “So that was your ghost?”
“He does that sometimes. I’m sorry.” Tobin wanted to say something more, something to keep that warm, amazed smile aimed at him. “I don’t think he’ll hurt you again.”
“We were not expecting guests, Mistress,” Mynir was saying to Iya, as if nothing had happened. “I hope you will not think poorly of our house. We’d have readied a feast if we’d known.”
Iya patted the old steward’s arm. “We’re no strangers to the duke’s hospitality. Whatever you have will please us very well. Is Catilan still running the kitchen?”
They all chattered on like they were old friends and had known each other for a long time. Tobin didn’t like this at all. Nothing had felt right since the first wizard had arrived. Now there were two of them, and Brother hated Iya even more than Arkoniel. Tobin had felt that during the brief attack.
He was certain that this was the “she” of his dreams, the one who’d made Brother weep blood. Yet Nari had claimed Iya was a friend of his father’s, and treated her like an honored guest. He was tempted to call Brother back, just to see what would happen.
Before he could, however, he noticed the other boy watching him. Ki looked away quickly and so did Tobin, embarrassed without knowing why.
The steward insisted that Cook serve dinner in the hall at the high table, even though Tobin’s father was not at home. Brother had knocked down the new canopy, but that was soon put right. Tobin had to sit in his father’s place, between Iya and the new companion, and Tharin served as carver and butler for them. Tobin wanted to talk to Ki and put him at ease, but found himself completely tongue-tied. Ki was silent, too, and Tobin saw him stealing uneasy glances around the hall and at him during each successive course. Tobin kept one eye out for Brother through the meal, but the spirit heeded his command.
The adults didn’t seem to notice his discomfort, chattering on among themselves. Nari, Arkoniel, and Iya were talking about people Tobin had never heard his nurse mention before, and he felt another pang of jealousy. As soon as the last fruit tart had been dispatched, he excused himself, intending to retreat upstairs. But Ki rose, too, clearly meaning to follow. Perhaps this was what companions were supposed to do. Tobin changed direction and went outside into the front courtyard instead, with the older boy tagging along behind.
A ruddy autumn moon was climbing the sky, bright enough to cast shadows in the courtyard.
Alone with this stranger, Tobin felt more awkward than ever. He wished he’d stayed in the hall now, but knew it would look too silly to go back in so soon with Ki trailing him like a duckling.
They stood there awhile in silence. Then Ki looked up at the keep and said, “Your house is very grand, Prince Tobin.”
“Thank you. What’s yours like?”
“Oh, about like your barracks here.”
The frayed edges on the boy’s tunic caught his eye again. “Is your father a poor man?” The words were out of his mouth before it occurred to him that this might be taken as an insult.
But Ki just shrugged. “We’re not rich, that’s for certain. My great-great-grandmother was married to one of Queen Klie’s kin and had lands of her own. But there’s been so many of us since that no one has claim to that anymore. That’s the trouble in my family, Father says; we’re too hot in our passions. Those of us that don’t get killed in battle breed like conies. In our house the young ones sleep in a big pile on the floor like puppies, th
ere’s so many of us.”
Tobin had never heard of such a thing. “How many of you are there?”
“Fourteen brothers and twelve sisters living, counting all the bastards.”
Tobin wanted to know what a bastard was and why they would be counted differently than the rest, but Ki was still talking. “I’m one of the younger ones, from the third wife, and our new mama is kindling again. The five oldest fight in your uncle’s army now, with our father,” he added proudly.
“I’m going to be a warrior, too,” Tobin told him. “I’ll be a great lord like my father and fight the Plenimarans on land and sea.”
“Well, of course! You being a prince and all.”
“I suppose you could come with me and be my squire. You’d be a knight, like Tharin.”
The older boy stuck his hands under his belt like a grown man and nodded. “Sir Ki? I like the sound of that. Not much chance of that back home.”
There was that smile again, making Tobin feel all funny inside. “Why do you prefer being called Ki?” he asked.
“That’s what everyone calls me back home. Kirothius is too damn long—” He stopped, looking embarrassed. “Begging your pardon, Tobin! I mean prince—! That is, my prince. Oh hell!”
Tobin giggled with guilty delight. He wasn’t allowed to curse and swear; Nari said it was common. But Tharin’s men did when they thought he wasn’t listening. “You can just call me Tobin. Everyone else does most of the time.”
“Well—” Ki looked around nervously. “I better call you Prince Tobin when anyone else is around. Father said he’d make sure I got a beating if he got word I was disrespectful.”
“I wouldn’t let him!” Tobin exclaimed. No one ever struck Tobin except Brother. “We’ll just tell him that I gave you my permission. Since I’m a prince, he’ll have to obey me. I think.”
“That’s all right then,” Ki said, relieved.
“Do you want to see my horse?”
In the stable Ki climbed the side of Gosi’s stall and let out a whistle of appreciation. “He’s a beauty, all right. I seen lots of these Aurënfaie at the Horse Fair at Ero. What kind of ’faie did you get him from?”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, there’s all kinds of them, depending on what part of Aurënen they’re from. The people, I mean, not the horses. You can tell ’em apart by the colors of their sen’gai.”
“Their what?”
“Those colored head cloths they wear.”
“Oh, those. I saw some Aurënfaie wizards once,” Tobin told him, glad at last to seem a little worldly. Ki was only a poor knight’s son, but he’d been to Ero and knew about horses. “They did magic and played music. And they had marks on their faces. Designs.”
“That’d be Khatme or Ky’arin clan, I bet. They’re the only ones that do that, far as I know.”
They wandered back out to the barracks yard, where Tobin spied the wooden swords he and Tharin had used earlier in the day. “I think you’re supposed to practice with me. Want to try now?”
With some common ground established at last, they saluted each other and started in. But Ki didn’t fight in careful drills like Tharin did. He swung hard and moved in aggressively, as if they were really fighting. Tobin fought back as best he could until Ki caught him a sharp blow across the hand. Tobin yelped and stuck his fingers in his mouth without thinking to call “hold.”
Ki lunged in and poked him in the belly. “I call a kill!”
Tobin grunted and grabbed at his middle with his wounded hand, trying not to let on how embarrassed he was. “You’re much better than I am.”
Ki grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, I had all them brothers and sisters to teach me, and Father, too. You should see me after a practice with them! Bruises all over. My sister Cytra split my lip wide open last year. I bawled like a cut shoat when my stepmother sewed it up. Look, you can still see the scar over on the left side.”
Tobin leaned close and squinted at the small white line that crossed Ki’s upper lip.
“That’s a nice one, too.” Ki touched his thumb to the scar on Tobin’s chin. “It looks just like Illior’s moon. Bet that makes it lucky. How’d you get it?”
Tobin jerked back. “I—I fell.”
He wished that Ki was right about the scar being lucky, but he was certain it wasn’t. Just thinking about it made him feel bad.
“Well, don’t fret yourself,” said Ki. “You’re just not used to my way of fighting. I’ll learn—ah, teach you, if you like. I’ll go slow, too. Promise.” He touched his sword to his brow and gave Tobin a bucktoothed grin. “Shall we go again, my prince?”
The bad feeling quickly passed as he and Ki began again. This boy was different than anyone he’d ever met, except maybe Tharin. Even though he was older and obviously knew more of the world than Tobin, there was nothing behind his eyes or smile that didn’t match what he said. Tobin felt all strange inside when Ki grinned at him, but it was a good feeling, like the way he’d felt in his dream where Brother was alive.
Ki kept his word, too. He went more slowly this time, and tried to explain what he was doing and how Tobin could defend himself. In this way, Tobin saw that he was using the same thrusts and guards that Tharin had taught him.
They started slow, stepping through the positions, but soon Tobin found himself having to work to keep his guard up. Their wooden blades clacked together like a heron’s beak, and their shadows jumped and darted like moths in the moonlight.
Ki was the more aggressive fighter, but he didn’t have the control that Tharin had instilled in Tobin. Ducking a wild swing, Tobin lunged forward and struck Ki across the ribs. The older boy dropped his sword and collapsed in an ungainly heap at his feet.
“I’m slain, Your Highness!” he gasped, pretending to hold his guts in. “Send my ashes home to my father!”
Tobin had never seen anything like this, either. It was so absurd that he laughed, hesitantly at first out of surprise, then louder because it felt so good when Ki joined in.
“Damn your ashes!” Tobin giggled, feeling giddy and wicked.
This started Ki laughing again and their voices echoed together off the courtyard walls. Ki made faces, screwing up his eyes and hanging his tongue out of the side of his mouth. Tobin laughed so hard his sides hurt and his eyes watered.
“By the Four, what a racket!”
Tobin turned to find Nari and Tharin watching them from the gateway.
“You haven’t hurt him, have you, Tobin?” Nari demanded.
Tharin chuckled. “What do you say, Ki? Will you live?”
Ki scrambled to his feet and bowed. “Yes, Sir Tharin.”
“Come along, you two,” Nari said, shooing them toward the door. “Ki’s had a long ride and you’ve been feeling ill, Tobin. It’s time you were both off to bed.”
Tobin stifled the sudden urge to shout, “Damn your bed!” settling instead for an exchanged smirk with Ki. As they headed back into the house, he heard Tharin chuckle again and whisper to Nari, “You have been exiled too long, girl, if you don’t recognize play when you see it!”
It wasn’t until they reached Tobin’s door that he realized Ki was to share both his chamber and his bed. Ki’s small traveling bundle lay on the disused chest where Tobin had the doll hidden, and an unfamiliar bow and quiver leaned in the corner next to his own.
“But, he can’t!” Tobin whispered, tugging Nari back out into the corridor. What would Brother do? And what if Ki found the doll or saw him with it?
“Now, now. You’re too old for a nurse,” Nari murmured. “A boy your age should have been sharing a room with a companion long since.” She rubbed at her eyes, and Tobin saw she was trying not to cry. “I should have told you, I know, pet, but I didn’t think he’d get here so soon and—Well, this is the way it must be.” She was using her firm voice now, the one that warned there was no use in arguing. “I’ll sleep down in the hall now, with the others. Just call down if you need me, like you always do
when you’re in bed before me.”
Ki must have heard them. When Tobin and Nari came back in, he was standing in the middle of the room looking uncertain again. Nari bustled over to the bed and went to put his bundle away in the chest. “We’ll just stow your things in here. Tobin doesn’t—”
“No!” Tobin cried. “No, you can’t put that in there.”
“Tobin, shame on you!”
Ki had his head down now, looking as if he wanted to sink into the floor.
“No, it’s just—I have ink jars in there,” he explained hastily. The words came easily, being true. The doll was hidden in the flour sack under a heap of parchments and his drawing tools. “There’s ink and pens and wax and things. They’d soil his clothes. There’s lots of room in the wardrobe, though. Put your things in with mine, Ki. We can share. Like—like brothers!”
He felt his face go hot. Where had those last words come from? But Ki was smiling again and Nari looked pleased.
Nari put Ki’s few belongings into the wardrobe and made them wash their teeth and faces. Tobin stripped down to his shirt and climbed into bed, but Ki seemed hesitant again.
“Go on, lad,” Nari urged. “Strip off and get in. I put a warm brick down the end to take the chill off.”
“I don’t strip off to sleep,” Ki told her.
“That’s all well and good for country folk, but you’re in a noble house now, so the sooner you learn our ways, the better for you.”
Ki mumbled something else as his cheeks flamed.
“What’s the matter, boy?”
“I don’t have a shirt,” Ki told her.
“No shirt?” Nari clucked her tongue. “Well now, I’ll go find you one. But see that you skin out of those dusty things before I get back. I don’t want your road dirt in the clean linens.”
She lit the night lamp and blew out the others. Then she kissed Tobin soundly on the cheek, and Ki, too, making him blush again.
He waited until the door had closed behind her, then pulled off his tunic and trousers and hurried under the covers to keep warm. As he got in, Tobin saw that Ki’s slender body was almost as brown as his face, except for a band of pale skin around his hips and privates.
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