Hidden Warrior. Lynn Flewelling. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Lynn Flewelling
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Героическая фантастика
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780007401604
Скачать книгу
weather grew colder. Small sharp flakes drifted down from a hazy sky and the dead grass in the meadow sparkled with thick frost each morning.

      Ki wolfed down all the broth and custard and baked apples Cook sent up, and was soon demanding meat. He continued to grumble at being shut in and made light of his condition, but Tobin knew he was far from his old self yet. He got tired suddenly, and his eyes still bothered him sometimes.

      They grew bored with games long before Ki was strong enough to play at swords or go downstairs. Anxious to keep him quiet, Tobin arranged a nest of bolsters and blankets from him beside the toy city and they made a new game of tracing familiar routes through the city streets and trying to guess what the other Companions might be up to there.

      Ki lifted off the roof of the box that served as the Old Palace and took the little golden tablet from its frame by the wood block throne. Tilting it to catch the light, he squinted at the tiny inscription there. “My eyes must be getting better. I can read this. ‘So long as a daughter of Thelátimos’ line defends and rules, Skala shall never be subjugated.’ You know, that’s the first time I’ve really looked at this since Arkoniel taught us to read.” His dark brows drew together as he frowned. “Did you ever think maybe it wouldn’t do you any good if your uncle knew about this? The one in the real throne room is gone, remember? My father claimed Erius melted it down when he destroyed all the stone copies that used to stand at crossroads.”

      “You’re right.” In fact, Tobin had never considered the risk before; now the idea took on a more dire cast than it would have a month earlier. He looked around, wondering where he should put it for safekeeping. Dangerous it might be, but it was still a gift from his father.

      And not just a gift, but a message. For the first time it occurred to him that the toy city had not been simply a child’s diversion; his father had been teaching him, readying him for the day—

      “Tob, you all right?”

      Tobin closed his hand around the tablet and stood up. “Yes, I was just thinking of my father.” He looked around again, then inspiration struck. “I know just the place.”

      Ki followed him as he hurried back to his own room and threw open the clothes chest. He hadn’t touched the doll since he’d hidden it here, but fetched it out now and found a seam in its side with stitches long enough to slide the tiny tablet through. He pushed it in deep, then shook it to make certain it slipped down inside. When he’d finished he buried it again and grinned at Ki. “There. I’m used to hiding this already.”

      The sound of hooves on the frozen Alestun road broke the winter quiet the following afternoon. Ki left off his bakshi toss and the boys hurried to the window.

      “Another messenger from Lord Orun,” Tobin said, frowning at the yellow-liveried rider approaching the bridge. Sefus and Kadmen met him at the outer gate.

      Ki turned to stare at him. “Another one? What did the last one want? Tobin?”

      Tobin picked at a spot of lichen on the stone sill. “He wants me back in Ero, but Tharin sent word I was too sick to ride.”

      “That’s all?”

      “No,” Tobin admitted. “Orun said he was writing to the king again.”

      “About me.”

      Tobin nodded grimly.

      Ki said nothing, just looked back out the window, but Tobin saw the worry in his eyes.

      Tharin brought the news up to them. “The same as before. Your guardian is impatient for your return.”

      “And to get rid of me,” said Ki.

      “I’m afraid so.”

      Ki hung his head. “This is my fault, isn’t it, Tharin? I gave him a reason. I should have gone to you as soon as I knew Tobin was missing. I don’t know why I listened—” He rubbed absently at the discolored lump on his forehead and gave Tobin a sorrowful look. “All I could think of was catching up with you. Now look what I’ve done!”

      “I won’t let him send you away. What did this letter say, exactly?”

      Tharin handed Tobin the folded parchment and he scanned it quickly. “He wants me to start back today! Ki can’t ride yet.”

      Tharin gave him a humorless smile. “I doubt that’s of much concern to Lord Orun. Don’t worry, though. Nari’s down there explaining to the messenger how your fever is still too high for you to travel. You’d better keep to your room until he leaves. I wouldn’t put it past Orun to have sent us a spy.”

      “Nor would I,” said Iya, looking in at the door. “Before you go into hiding, though, would you come upstairs? I’ve something to show you. Privately,” she added, as Ki started after him.

      Tobin threw his friend an apologetic look as he followed her out.

      “What is it?” he asked as soon as they were in the corridor.

      “There are things we must speak of while there is still time.” She paused. “Bring the doll, please.”

      Tobin did as she asked and they continued upstairs. Arkoniel met them in the workroom and to Tobin’s surprise, he was not alone. Lhel sat at the long table just behind him. Everyone looked very serious, but he was glad to see her, all the same.

      “You have call Brother?” asked Lhel, and he guessed that she already knew the answer.

      “No,” Tobin admitted.

      “Call now.”

      Tobin hesitated, then spoke the words in a nervous rush.

      Brother appeared in the corner farthest from the door. He was thin and ragged, but Tobin could feel the cold power of his presence from across the room.

      “Well, what do you think?” asked Iya.

      Lhel squinted hard at Brother, then shrugged. “I tell you the binding stronger now. So he stronger, too.”

      “I wonder if Ki is still able to see him?” murmured Arkoniel.

      “I won’t have him around Ki.” Tobin turned angrily on the ghost. “I won’t call you at all, ever, unless you promise never to hurt him again! I don’t care what Lhel says!” He shook the doll at Brother. “Promise, or you can stay away and starve.”

      Tobin saw a flicker of hatred in the ghost’s black eyes, but it was directed at the wizards, not at him.

      “No one saw him in Tobin’s sickroom,” Iya was saying, as if she hadn’t noticed his outburst.

      “Those have the eye see him more now,” said Lhel. “And he make others see when he wants.”

      Tobin looked at Brother again, noting how the lamplight seemed to touch him the same way it did the rest of them; it never had before. “He looks more—real, somehow.”

      “Be harder to put you apart, comes the time, but must be so.”

      For a moment curiosity overcame his anger. “Come here,” he told the ghost. Tobin reached to touch him; but as always, his hand found only colder air. Brother grinned at him. He looked more like an animal baring its teeth.

      “Go away!” Tobin ordered, and was relieved when the spiteful ghost obeyed. “Can I go now?”

      “A moment more, if you please,” said Arkoniel. “You remember how I promised to teach you to guard your thoughts? It’s time we had that lesson.”

      “But it’s not magic. You said so, remember?”

      “Why do you fear magic so, Tobin?” asked Iya. “It’s protected you all these years. And wonderful things can be done with it! You’ve seen that for yourself. With a wave of my hand, I can make fire where there is no wood, or food in the wilderness. Why do you fear it?”

      Because magic meant surprises and fear, sorrow and danger, Tobin thought.