“Well, that was unexpected!” Tharin said, recovering himself at last. “And when you tried to give away Cirna—By the Light, did you have any idea what you were doing?”
“No. Like I said, it was the first place I thought of. It’s only a small holding, isn’t it?”
Tharin shook his head. “In acreage, perhaps, but the man who holds Cirna holds the bulwark of Skala, not to mention the Protector’s share of revenues collected in your name. And at the moment, Lord Niryn is that man.”
“Niryn?” Ki exclaimed. “What’s Fox Beard doing with a commission like that? He’s no warrior.”
“Never mock him, Ki, not even in private. And whatever the reason, it’s between him and the king.” He stopped and rubbed at his beard, thinking. “I suppose it’s between you and Niryn, too, Tobin. Cirna is yours, after all.”
“Does that make Niryn my liegeman?” Tobin shivered at the thought.
“No, and neither is Solari. They’re the king’s men. But don’t worry. You’ll hardly see either of them, and you’re under the king’s protection. He has say over you before anyone else.”
“That’s good,” said Ki. “Korin thinks the sun rises and sets on Tobin, and now the king likes him, too, doesn’t he?”
Tharin stood and ruffled Tobin’s hair. “I’d say so.”
“But I did do something wrong, didn’t I? I saw it in the king’s face.”
“If you’d been a few years older—?” Tharin shook his head, casting off some dark thought. “No, he saw you spoke from an innocent heart. It’s nothing to worry about. You two get to bed, now. It’s been a long day.”
“You could sleep here tonight,” Tobin offered again. There was more to the king’s reaction than Tharin was letting on and it still scared him.
“I promised Lytia I’d visit with her tonight,” Tharin said. “But I’ll check on you on my way back. Sleep well.”
With the door safely closed behind him, Tharin sagged against the wall, hoping the sentries down the corridor would put his sudden weakness down to too much wine. He’d recognized the look in Erius’ eyes—suspicion. If Tobin had been sixteen, instead of twelve, his request might have marked him and Ki both for death. But he was only a child, and an unworldly one at that. Erius still had enough good left in him to see that.
All the same, Tharin spent a long time in aimless conversation with the sentries, keeping an eye on the king’s door, and Niryn’s.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know. Waste a king’s boon on me,” Ki said when Tharin was gone. Tobin was still sitting on the rug, hugging his knees the way he did when he was feeling troubled. “Come get into the bed. The fire’s out.”
But Tobin stayed where he was. “Will your father be angry?”
“Not hardly! But what made you think of it, Tob? My old dad’s a lot of things, but noble isn’t one of them. I can see it now, him and my brothers using the king’s warrant to steal horses.”
Tobin looked around at him. “You always said he wasn’t a horse thief!”
Ki shrugged. “Guess I’ve lived around decent folk long enough to know what my people are.”
“They can’t be so bad, Ki. You’re as good as any of us. Anyway, now no one can call you grass knight.”
But they still will, some of them, thought Ki.
“I made you a promise the day we left the keep,” Tobin said earnestly.
“I don’t remember any promise.”
“I didn’t say it out loud. Remember how hateful Orun was being to you and Tharin? I promised Sakor that day that I’d make you and Tharin great nobles so Orun would have to bow to you and be polite.” He clapped a hand to his forehead. “Tharin! I should have asked something for him, too, but I was so surprised I couldn’t think. Do you think I hurt his feelings?”
“I think he was probably glad you didn’t.”
“Glad? Why?”
“Think about it, Tob. You gave my dad Rilmar fortress, and off he goes; nothing changes for me in that. But if you made Tharin lord of some important holding, like he deserves, he’d have to go and administer it. That means leaving us—you, I mean, and he wouldn’t like that much.”
“Us,” Tobin corrected, coming to join him on the bed. “I never thought of that. I’d miss him, too. Still—” He pulled his boots off and settled back against the bolsters. His mouth had that stubborn set to it that Ki knew so well. “Bilairy’s balls, Ki! Tharin deserves better than to be just a captain of my guard! Why didn’t Father ever promote him?”
“Maybe Tharin asked him not to,” Ki said, then wished he’d kept his mouth shut.
“Why would he do that?”
Now I’ve done it, thought Ki, but it was too late to take it back.
“Why would Tharin do that?” Tobin demanded again, reading his face like a book.
You couldn’t hide much from Tobin, that was certain. So it was either tell or lie, and he’d never lie to Tobin. It’s not like Tharin cares who knows. He said so himself.
Ki pushed himself up against the footboard, squirming inwardly as he tried to make a start on it. “Well, it’s just that—Well, when they were young, in the Companions, they—your father and Tharin, that is—uh—loved each other and—”
“Well, of course they did. You and I—”
“No!” Ki held up a hand. “No, Tobin, not like us. That is, not just like us.”
Tobin’s eyes widened as he caught Ki’s drift. “Like Orneus and Lynx, you mean?”
“Tharin told me so himself. It was only when they were young. Then your father married your mother and all. But Tharin? Well, I don’t think his feelings ever changed.”
Tobin was staring at him now, and Ki wondered if they’d fight over it, they way Ki used to fight people who accused his father of horse thieving.
But Tobin only looked pensive. “That must have been sad for Tharin.”
Ki recalled Tharin’s expression when he’d spoken of it that rainy night. “You’re right about that, but they stayed friends all the same. I don’t think he could’ve stood being parted from your dad any more than I could’ve if Orun had sent me away.” Tobin was watching him again, looking a little odd. “Not that I—Well, you know. Not like that,” Ki hastily amended.
Tobin looked away quickly. “No! Of course not.”
The silence drew out so long between them that Ki was grateful when the page banged back in with the water pitcher.
By the time the boy had built up the fire and gone out again, Ki could look Tobin in the face. “So, what was it like, meeting your uncle?”
“Strange. What do you think of him?”
“He’s not how I expected, exactly. I mean Korin always speaks well of him, but he’s his father, right?” Ki paused, lowering his voice just to be safe. “My dad never had much good to say about the king, on account of him keeping women out of the ranks. And there’s all that with the female heirs and the Harriers and such. You notice we weren’t the first to greet him, either? There’s Old Fox—Niryn, I mean—riding close as his shadow. How’d he get to the king before we did?”
“He’s a wizard.” Tobin had that distant, guarded look again, the one that came over him whenever Fox Beard was around.
Seeing it, Ki crawled up beside him. Not touching, but close enough to let him know he wasn’t alone, being scared of the man. “I think if I met the king at some tavern and didn’t know who he was, I’d take him for a good fellow,” he offered, going back to the subject at hand.
“So would I, after today. All the same …” He trailed off and Ki realized he was trembling. When he spoke again, it was barely a whisper. “My mother was so afraid of him!”
Tobin almost never spoke of his mother.
“Brother hates him, too,” he whispered. “But still, after today? I hardly know how to feel except—Maybe the stories aren’t true? I mean, Mother was mad, and Brother lies … I just don’t know!”