“Then what was it you couldn’t stand?”
Ki clutched the cup in both hands. “Mago said that Lord Orun told him you and Duke Rhius—That you—” He couldn’t say it.
“That we were bedmates when we were young? Lovers?”
Ki stared miserably down into the red depths of his cup. “He said he thought Tobin and I did it, too. But that’s not the way he put it—what you said.”
Tharin sighed, but Ki could tell he was angry. “I don’t suppose it was.”
“Tobin and I don’t!”
“I didn’t imagine you did. But it is common enough among young warriors, and lots of other folk besides. I could tell Mago a thing or two about his own father that would shut him up for you. With some it’s something that passes. Others stay with men all their lives. For Rhius, it passed.”
He reached out and chucked Ki under the chin, making him look him in the eye. “I’d have told you myself if you’d asked me. There’s no dishonor in it between friends, Ki, or half of Ero would be shamed, and some of the other Companions too, from what I’ve seen.”
This revelation left Ki speechless.
“So they teased you all this time, and this is what broke you?”
Ki nodded.
“They poked around until they found the sore spot to goad you with. Well, here you are. What interests me the most is that Mago said he had this from Lord Orun, Tobin’s own guardian. I think perhaps that was more than Orun wanted said.”
“But why would he say it at all?”
“Use your brains, boy. Who wanted Moriel as Tobin’s squire? Who hasn’t had use for you since the day he laid eyes on you? Who got his nose put out of joint when Porion put Moriel out of the Companions in favor of you?”
“Orun.”
“Whom Tobin just happens to be dining with right now, I believe?”
Ki dropped the cup and jumped to his feet. “Oh gods! He can dismiss me? I’ve done it, haven’t I? Old Slack Guts is going to send me away!”
“He can’t dismiss you, not directly. But perhaps he thinks that Tobin won’t be able to discipline you as he must, and that will reflect badly on both of you. Perhaps that’s what he’s hoping to put in his next report to the king.”
“But why? Why does Orun give a damn who Tobin’s squire is?”
“Who’s closer to Tobin than you? Who would be of more use to Orun if he wanted Tobin spied on than the prince’s own squire?”
“You think Orun means to harm him?”
“No, I think he means to control him. And who do you think controls Orun?”
“The king?” Ki whispered.
“Yes. You’re too young for this, Ki, but since they’ve gone after you, you need to know. It’s all a great gaming board we’re on, and the stake over on the side is Atyion and all the other lands and riches that Tobin holds. You and me? We’re guard stones around Tobin, and we’re in their way.”
“But Tobin’s loyal to the king. All he wants is to go and fight for him. Why can’t Erius just leave him alone?”
“That’s what I don’t quite understand myself. But it’s not for us to solve that, only to stand by him. And to do that, you’re going to have to convince Tobin to flog you properly tomorrow. And you’re going to have to tell him what Mago said.”
“No.” Ki set his jaw. “I know what you’ve told me is the true way of it, but I don’t ever want Tobin knowing that a squire was talking about him and his kin that way.”
“But you’re going to have to, Ki. You’ll have to go before Porion to be judged, and he’s going to ask.”
“But that means saying it out in front of everyone. Then they’ll all know what he said, right?”
“Probably.”
“I won’t do that, Tharin. I just won’t! Some of the others already make fun of him behind his back on account of me, and for seeing ghosts. I don’t know what Tobin would do if this all came out, too. He isn’t like the rest of us. You know that.” Ki was trembling again. “And I don’t want him to be, either. I like him just the way he is. So let me do this my way now and I promise you I won’t give Lord Orun anything more to write to the king. I’ll say it was for the insults to my father and take my flogging and that’ll be the end of it. To make me out a liar, Mago would have to tell what he really said, and I don’t think he’s going to do that. Not in front of Porion.”
He stood tensely as Tharin considered this, ready to argue all night if he had to.
But Tharin nodded. “All right then. But be careful, my boy. Some mistakes you can back out of; I think you can with this one. But others you can’t. Honor, Ki, always honor. I want you safe. Both of you.”
Ki clasped his hand gratefully. “I won’t forget again. I swear it.”
Actors came in after the feast was finished, but the play was a romance of some sort, incomprehensible to Tobin. He was dozing with his chin on his hand, trying to ignore the ache in his side, when a messenger entered and whispered in Orun’s ear.
Orun clucked his tongue, then leaned over to Tobin. “Dear me, there seems to have been some unpleasantness involving that squire of yours!”
Those closest to them turned to stare. Korin had heard, and Caliel, too.
Tobin stood and made a hasty bow. “With your permission, Lord Orun, may I be excused?”
“If you must. I shouldn’t bother myself if I were you.”
“I’d like to, all the same.”
Tobin felt every eye in the room on his back as he hurried out. His side hurt worse than ever.
Baldus was waiting for him at the Palace gate and burst into tears as soon as he saw him. “Hurry, Prince Tobin! Master Porion and the others are already in the Companion’s hall. Ki hit Mago!”
“O gods! Why?” Tobin asked in alarm as they strode down the corridor.
“I don’t know, but I hope he knocked his teeth out!” the boy exclaimed tearfully. “He’s always been mean to the pages.”
A few lamps at one end lit the hall. Ki sat on a bench, looking defiant. Porion stood grimly beside him.
On a second bench Alben sat with Mago, looking no happier. The squire’s nose was swollen and his lip was split. Quirion and Arius stood with them. The rest of the Companions stood at attention across the room.
“He did this!” Alben shouted at Tobin, pointing an accusing finger at Ki.
“That’s enough!” snapped Porion.
“What happened?” Tobin asked, unable to believe what he was seeing.
Ki shrugged. “Mago insulted me.”
“But why didn’t you say? Why didn’t you tell me and bring it to the circle as we’re supposed to?”
“He surprised me, my lord, and I lost my temper. I’m very sorry to have dishonored you and I’m ready to take my punishment at your hand.”
Porion sighed. “That’s all he’ll say, Prince Tobin. He won’t even repeat what Mago said.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Ki muttered.
“It does,” snapped Porion. “If it’s only you he insulted that’s one thing. If he said anything about your lord or some other—” He cast a baleful look at Mago. “—then it’s another matter altogether. Prince Tobin, command him to speak.”
“Ki, please.”
Ki shot Mago a disdainful glance. “He called me a bastard and a grass knight. And he called my father a horse thief.”
Porion stared at him in disbelief. “And for that you hit him?”
“I didn’t like the way he said it.”
Tobin looked around at the others again, wondering why Ki seemed the calmest of the lot.
The arms master gave Mago and Arius a hard look. “Is this so?”
The two boys quailed under that scrutiny. “Yes, Arms Master. It’s as he said.”
They’re lying, thought Tobin. But why would Ki protect them?
Porion threw up his hands. “Very well. Prince Tobin, I give Ki into your charge. Alben, I give Mago over to you. Before the offering tomorrow Prince Tobin will mete out Ki’s punishment on the Sakor steps. First offense is
ten strokes of the lash, and a day and night of fasting vigil. Mago, a fasting vigil might curb that unruly tongue of yours, too, so the same for you. Now get out of my sight!”
Retreating to their chamber, Tobin sent the servants out and rounded on Ki. “What happened? How could you do such a thing?”
“Just being a stupid grass knight, I guess.”
Tobin grabbed him by the front of his damp tunic and shook him angrily. “Don’t you ever call yourself that! That’s not what you are!”
Ki covered Tobin’s hands with his own and eased them away. “I did what they said, Tob. I lost my temper like a fool. But they wanted me to. I think they did it on purpose to embarrass you. Don’t give them the satisfaction.”
“What do you mean?” Tobin demanded. “And how can I do that to you? If I’d been there I’d have hit him myself, and then they could beat the both of us together!”
“Yes, I’m sure you would have. But that’s no good. They forced my hand, made me do something against my will, and now they think they’ve got the laugh on me.”
He went to the bed and sat down. “I didn’t tell Porion everything. This wasn’t the first time, and Mago isn’t the only one who’s said things. I don’t even have to say who, do I? To them, I’m just a grass knight who grew up sleeping in the dirt.” He looked up and forced a tired grin. “That’s true enough I guess, but the lucky thing is, it makes you strong. Stronger than they are. Ruan told me Arius cried when he got his beating a while back. You don’t have enough strength in that arm of yours to make me bawl.”
Tobin stared at him, aghast. “I won’t hurt you!”
Ki shook his head. “You’re going to have to try, though. We have to give ’em a good show, like we always do. If they think that you’re too soft to keep me in line, then the king may think again about letting me stay on as your squire. That’s what Tharin said. I asked him already. So put your back into it tomorrow and show them that we’re tough as mountain oak.”
Tobin was trembling now. Ki rose and gripped him by the shoulders. “This is for us, Tob, so we can stay together. You don’t want Moriel in here, instead of me, do you?”
“No.” Tobin, trying hard not to cry. If Tharin said they could still send Ki away, then it must be so. “But Ki, I don’t want—”
“I know that. This is all my fault.” He knelt before Tobin as he had with Tharin. “Can you forgive me?”
Tobin couldn’t bear it. Weeping, he grabbed Ki and hugged him close.
Ki hugged him back, but his voice was hard as he said, “Listen to me, Tobin, you can’t act like this tomorrow, you hear? It’s just what they want, the bastards. Don’t you give them the satisfaction!”
Tobin pulled back and looked down at Ki; the same warm brown eyes, golden skin, and prominent teeth under the dark lip scruff, but Ki looked almost man grown suddenly. “You’re not scared?”
Ki stood up and grinned at him again. “I told you, you’re not going to hurt me. You should have seen the hidings my father used to give us. Bilairy’s balls, I’ll probably doze off before you’re finished. Besides, it was worth it to finally shut Mago’s foul mouth!”
Tobin tried to match that grin, but it wouldn’t come.
Chapter 45
It was still raining the next morning. They jogged to the temple under a cold grey canopy of clouds. Tobin gripped the heavy whip in his hands as he ran and tried to think of nothing but the solid feel of the wet earth beneath his feet; not the hot stitch throbbing in his side, or Ki running like a silent shadow beside him.
Neither of them had slept well and, when morning came, Tobin was dismayed to find his friend curled up in a blanket on the alcove bed across the room. Tobin had almost forgotten that it was there. Ki mumbled something about being restless, and they’d dressed in silence.
They were among the first to appear that morning, and Porion took Tobin aside as they waited in the portico for the rest of the Companions to arrive.
The arms master placed a stiff leather lash in Tobin’s hands. It was about three feet long and as thick as his thumb, with a stiff core and a hilt like that of a sword.
“This is no toy,” he warned. “Ki doesn’t have a man’s muscle on him yet. Strike too hard or too often in the same place and you’ll open him to the bone and lay him up for days. No one wants that. Stand to his left for five strokes and to his right for the other five, and space them wide. Strike this hard—” Porion slapped the base of the whip against Tobin’s palm, “and the tip strikes ten times as hard. When you’re done he must kiss your hand, still kneeling, and ask your pardon.”
Tobin’s stomach turned over at the thought.
The Temple of the Four resolved from the curtain of rain ahead of them, square and forbidding above its steep stairs. It stood at the center of the Palatine and was a nexus for business as well as worship. At this early hour, however, it was frequented mostly by the devout making their offerings at the altars inside.
Broad stairs led up each of the Temple’s four sides. The Altar of Sakor stood on the west, and it was on these stairs that the Companions gathered for Ki’s ordeal after making their offerings. The priest of Sakor stood in the open doorway at the top of the stairs. “Who has broken the Companions’ peace and brought disgrace on his lord’s name?” he asked, attracting a small crowd of onlookers.
Tobin looked around. There were soldiers mostly, but Aliya and her friends were there, too, muffled in veils and cloaks against the rain. So were Lord Orun and Moriel. Any goodwill Tobin had had for the boy evaporated as he recognized the gloating look in Moriel’s eyes. Tharin was not there, or anyone else from Tobin’s household.
“I broke the peace,” Ki replied in a loud, steady voice. “I, Kirothius, son of Larenth, unworthy squire of Prince Tobin, am guilty of striking a fellow Companion. I stand ready to take my punishment.”
The other Companions formed a box on the stairs around them as Ki stripped off his jerkin and shirt. Kneeling, he leaned forward and braced his hands on a step above him. Tobin took his place on Ki’s right and gripped the whip.
“I beg your pardon, my prince,” Ki said, his voice carrying clear and strong on the morning air.
Tobin rested the whip across Ki’s back, then froze, unable for a moment to get any air into his lungs. He knew what was expected, that Ki would hold no grudge, that there was no turning back. But looking down at that familiar back, with its downy golden line down the spine and the catamount shoulder blades motionless under the sun-browned skin, he thought he wasn’t going to be able to move at all. Then Ki whispered, “Come on, Tob, let’s give ’em a show.”
Trying to gauge as Porion had shown him, Tobin raised the whip and brought it down across Ki’s shoulders. Ki didn’t flinch, but an angry red welt burned where the whip had bitten.
“One,” said Ki, quite clearly.
“No one expects you to count the strokes,” Porion said quietly.
Tobin brought the whip down again, a few inches lower. It was too hard; Ki shuddered this time, and droplets of blood beaded the new welt.
“Two,” Ki announced, just as clearly.
Someone murmured in the crowd. Tobin thought he recognized Orun’s voice and hated the man all the more.
He brought the whip down three more times on that side, ending just above Ki’s waist. They were both sweating, but Ki’s voice stayed steady as he counted off each stroke.
Tobin changed sides and began again at Ki’s shoulders, crosshatching the welts he’d already made.
“Six,” said Ki, but this time it came out a hiss. Tobin had drawn blood again. The whip cut into the swollen flesh where the two stripes met and a trickle of blood inched away toward Ki’s armpit.
You see blood
Tobin’s empty stomach lurched again. He made seven too light, then eight and nine too fast so that Ki had to gasp out the count. By “Ten” his voice was ragged but it was over.
Ki sat back on his heels and reached for Tobin’s hand. “Forgive me, my prince, for disgraci
ng you.”
Before he could kiss it, Tobin pulled him up onto his feet and clasped his hand like a warrior. “I forgive you, Ki.”
Confused by this break with ritual, Ki bent uncertainly to complete the ceremony, pressing his lips to the back of Tobin’s hand as they stood facing each other. Another murmur went through the crowd. Tobin saw Prince Korin and Porion both giving them curious but approving looks.
The priest was less happy about the breach. His voice was harsh as he called out, “Come and be cleansed, Squire Kirothius.”
The Companions parted silently and Ki climbed the remaining stairs with his head held high, the ten uneven welts showing like fire on his bloodied back. Mago followed to begin his punishment vigil, looking a good deal less heroic.
When they’d disappeared inside Tobin looked down at the whip he still held, then over at Alben, who stood with Quirion and Urmanis. Were they smirking at him? At what he’d just done? He tossed the whip down. “I challenge you, Alben. Meet me in the practice ring. Unless you’re afraid of getting your pretty clothes dirty.”
Gathering up Ki’s discarded jerkin and shirt, he turned on his heel and walked away.
Alben had little choice but to accept Tobin’s challenge, though he didn’t look too happy about it.
The rain had slackened to a sullen drizzle by the time they squared off in the stone circle. A crowd had followed them from the temple to watch what was all too clearly a grudge match.
Tobin had practiced against Alben often since his arrival in Ero and hadn’t often bested the older boy, once Alben had learned to watch for tricks. But today he was driven by pent-up fury, and his years of rough practice with Ki served him well. He battered Alben down into the cold mud again and again. As he swung the wooden sword, it felt almost like the heavy whip in his hand and he wished he could bring it down on Alben’s back just once. Instead, he broke through the older boy’s guard and hit him across the nasal of his helmet hard enough to bloody his nose. Alben went to his knees and yielded.
Tobin bent to help him up. As he leaned close, he whispered just loud enough for Alben to hear. “I’m a prince, Alben, and I’ll remember you when I’m grown. Teach your squire to keep a civil tongue in his head. And you can tell Lord Orun the same.”
The Bone Doll's Twin Page 45
