Tobin was more grateful than usual for Tharin’s company as he guided them through the warren of corridors and staircases. Reaching an unfamiliar junction, Tharin paused. “If you’re not too tired, Tobin, there is someone else I’d like you to meet.”
“Another relative?”
“Practically. Hakone has served your family since your great-grandfather’s time. He’s longed to meet you ever since word came of your birth. It would mean a great deal to him to see you.”
“Very well.”
Turning aside, they left the main tower, descended a staircase, and made their way through the gardens to an entrance leading to the kitchens. The aroma of baking bread filled the passageway. Passing an open door, Tobin saw an army of cooks at work over pastry boards. He caught sight of a tall, grey-haired woman across the room, discussing something with another as she stirred something in a large cauldron.
“My cousin, Grannia, and the head cook,” Tharin told him. “There’s no purpose in stopping; they’re like a couple of generals, planning tomorrow’s feast for the king.”
Moving on past other kitchens, they climbed a flight of narrow stairs. The servants they met along the way greeted Tharin warmly and Tobin with awe.
“It’s almost as if they know you already, isn’t it?” said Ki.
Halfway down a plain, rush-strewn corridor, Tharin stopped and opened a door without knocking. Inside, the oldest man Tobin had ever seen lay dozing in an armchair by a brazier. A few wisps of white hair still fringed his shiny pate, and a thin, yellowed beard hung halfway to his belt. An equally ancient yellow cat lay on his lap. Ringtail jumped up and touched noses with it, then curled up beside it to have his ears washed.
The old man woke and squinted down with rheumy eyes, feeling Ringtail’s head with crabbed, red-knuckled fingers. “Oh, it’s you, is it?” His voice was as creaky as a rusty hinge. “Come to visit your old mother, but brought her no gift, you heedless fellow? What do you say to that, Ariani?”
Startled, it was a moment before Tobin realized that the man was addressing his cat. This Ariani was holding Ringtail down now with one seven-toed foot, washing his face. The big tom submitted contentedly.
“He didn’t come alone, Hakone,” Tharin said, raising his voice. Crossing the room, he took the old man’s hand in his, then motioned for Tobin and Ki to join him.
“Theodus, home at last!” Hakone exclaimed. Catching sight of Tobin and Ki, he broke into a fond, toothless grin. “Ah, and here are my dear boys. Tell me now, Rhius, how many grouse have you brought me? Or is it rabbits today? And you, Tharin, did you have any luck?”
Tharin bent closer. “Hakone, I’m Tharin, remember?”
The old man squinted at him, then shook his head. “Of course, my boy. Forgive me. You caught me dreaming. But then, this must be …” He gasped and fumbled for the walking stick lying by his chair. “My prince!” he exclaimed, dislodging the cats as he struggled to rise.
“Please, don’t get up,” Tobin told him.
Tears spilled down Hakone’s sunken cheeks as he fell back in the chair. “Forgive an old man’s weakness, my prince, but I’m so very happy! I was beginning to fear I wouldn’t live long enough to see you!” He reached out and cupped Tobin’s face in his trembling hands. “Ah, and if only I could see you better! Welcome home, lad. Welcome home!”
A lump rose in Tobin’s throat as he thought of how the old man had mistaken him for his father. He took Hakone’s hands in his. “Thank you, old father. And thank you for your long service to my family. I—I hope you’re comfortable here?”
“Very kind of you to ask, my prince. There’s a stool just there. Tharin, fetch the prince a chair! And move the lamp closer.”
When Tobin was seated by him, Hakone peered more closely into his face. “Yes, that’s better. Just look at you! Your dear mother’s eyes in the duke’s face. Don’t you think so, Tharin? It’s like seeing our Rhius reborn.”
“So it is,” Tharin said, giving Tobin a wink. They both knew he little favored either of his parents, but Tobin liked the old man already and was pleased to make him happy.
“And this must be the squire you told me of,” Hakone said. “Kirothius, isn’t it? Come boy, let me see you.”
Ki knelt by his chair and Hakone felt at his shoulders, hands, and arms. “A good strong lad, yes!” he said approvingly. “Hands hard as iron. You’ve warriors’ hands, both of you. Tharin tells me nothing but good things, but I suppose you get into all sorts of mischief, just as Rhius and this rascal did.”
Tobin exchanged a smirk with Ki. “Tharin was a rascal?”
“The both of them!” Hakone cackled. “Brawling with the village children, raiding the orchards. Tharin, do you recall the time Rhius shot your mother’s best milk ewe? By the Light, it seems like I was after you two with the switch every other day.”
Tharin mumbled something, and Tobin saw with delight that the man was blushing.
Hakone let out another rusty chuckle and patted Tobin’s hand. “Filled the salt cellars with sugar just before a banquet for the queen herself, one time, if you can imagine such a thing! Of course young Erius was in the middle of that one, but Tharin took the blame, and the whipping.” The memory loosened another spate of laughter, but it quickly changed to a coughing fit.
“Calm yourself, Hakone,” Tharin urged, fetching him a cup of wine from the sideboard and holding it to the old man’s lips.
Hakone managed a slurping sip and wine dribbled down into his beard. He sat wheezing for a moment, then let out a long sigh. “But that’s all done and gone now, isn’t it? You’re grown and Rhius is dead. So many dead …” He trailed off and closed his eyes. Tobin thought he’d gone to sleep. An instant later, however, he sat up again and said sharply, “Tharin, the duke has no wine! Get down to the cellars—” He broke off and looked around at them. “No, I’m wandering again, aren’t I? That’s your duty now, Kirothius. Serve your prince, boy.”
Ki jumped up to obey but Tobin stopped him. “That’s all right, old father. We’ve just come from the hall and had more wine than we can hold.”
Hakone lay back again and the old cat returned and settled in his lap. Ringtail curled up at Tobin’s feet.
“I was sorry to find a stranger wearing your chain,” said Tharin, taking Hakone’s hand again. “I thought Lytia would be the one to take your place.”
Hakone snorted. “That was Lord Orun’s doing. The king had already sent us half a dozen new servants after the princess died—may Astellus carry her softly.” He kissed his fingertips reverently and pressed them to his heart. “And then as soon as Rhius passed, Orun sent his own man. It was time for a change, of course—I’m blind as Bilairy’s goat and my legs are failing me—but this was a shifty-eyed, pasty-faced bastard and no one was sad when Solari replaced him. But it should have been your auntie, then, as you say. She’s been steward in all but name these past few years.”
“I’ll tell Solari to make her steward,” said Tobin.
“I’m afraid you can’t do that yet,” said Tharin. “Until you’re of age, the Lord Protector decides those things.”
“Then I’m not lord of Atyion, am I? Not really.”
Hakone found Tobin’s hand and clasped it. “You are, my boy, and no other. I heard them cheering you in today. That’s the heart of your people you saw out there. They’ve longed for you as much as I have. Solari is a good man, and keeps your father’s memory alive among the men. Let him keep you safe for now, while you serve the prince.”
Just then they heard a soft shuffling in the passage. Ki opened the door and found a cluster of cooks and kitchen maids crowding in the corridor.
“Please, sir, we just wanted to see the prince,” an old woman said, speaking for all of them. Behind her, the others nodded hopefully and craned their necks for a glimpse of Tobin.