“My father says all Illiorans still secretly believe that,” said Alben. “Bunch of ingrates! King Erius saved this land.”
Lynx was quiet, Ki noted. That was nothing unusual, but Ki had heard him mention having an uncle who was a wizard and guessed he was more troubled than he let on. Maybe, like Nikides, he was scared of seeing a familiar face tonight.
“Wizards, priests—they’re all moonstruck,” Zusthra declared. “It’s Sakor who puts the strength in our arms.”
Porion strode in just then, looking like a thundercloud. Leaping up on a table, he shouted for their attention.
This was the first time Ki had seen the arms master in full armor. His cuirass was oiled and polished, but showed the scars of many battles, as did the great scabbard swinging at his side and the steel helmet he carried beneath his arm.
“Line up!” he barked, glowering around at them. “Listen to me now, boys, and listen well. It’s no pleasure jaunt we’re going on tonight, so I don’t want any more of that kind of talk. The servants can hear you at the other end of the corridor.”
He set his helmet down and folded his arms. “Traitors or not, the men and women who die tonight are Skalans, and some of them will have supporters in the crowd—friends, family, and the like. As you know, this is the first time in a long time that an execution has been held inside the city walls instead of at Traitor’s Hill. It’s not for me to say whether that’s wise or right, but I can tell you it’s not popular among some factions here in Ero. So keep your mouths shut, your eyes open, and your swords at the ready. You Companions are coming into your own tonight. What’s your purpose?”
“To guard Prince Korin!” Caliel replied.
“That’s right. You’ve all trained for this and tonight you could be called on to live up to your oath. We’re to ride before the king to the market and back, with king’s men flanking us. At the first sign of trouble, we close ranks around Korin and get him back here any way we can. The king’s men may help us, but the honor and duty are ours.”
“What about Father?” Korin demanded. “I’m not going to be carried off like baggage if he’s in danger!”
“The king will be well protected. Your task, my prince, is to stay alive to rule after him. So no heroics tonight, do you understand?” He held Korin’s eye until the boy nodded, then gave the rest of them a dark look. “And no more carrying on like a bunch of little girls on a picnic, either! This is solemn business.” He paused and rubbed at his grizzled beard. “And a risky one, too, if you ask me. Blood will be spilled in the capital tonight; the blood of priests. Whatever their crimes, it’s an unlucky thing, so stay sharp and be ready for trouble every inch of the way until we’re safe back here again.”
He jumped down from the table and began to sketch out a battle plan on the floor with a bit of chalk. “I’m the most concerned about the market square; that’s where the crowd will be thickest, and most contained. We’ll be here, before the platform at the center. Korin, you and the nobles will flank the king to his right. Squires, you’ll each sit your horse behind your lord and I want you to keep an eye on the crowd while the others are watching the executions. If the worst happens, you stay with Korin and we’ll fight our way back to the gate. Do you all understand?”
“Yes, Master Porion!” they answered with one voice.
He paused again, looking around at them. “Good. And it’s rule of war tonight. Anyone who panics and deserts the prince, I’ll kill myself.”
“Yes, Master Porion!” Ki shouted with the others, knowing it was no idle threat.
As they filed out he gave Tobin’s wrist a quick, furtive squeeze. “Ready?”
Tobin glanced at him, perfectly calm. “Of course. You?”
Ki nodded, grinning. He wasn’t scared either, but swore secretly that if trouble did come, his first concern would not be for Korin.
A yellow full moon hung over the city, painting a rippling golden path across the face of the harbor below. The air was dead still, as if the whole city was holding its breath. No sea breeze cut the fetid summer smell of the streets. Ki’s torch hardly flickered as they rode slowly along. The tall stone buildings that lined the high street gave back the clatter of hooves and the mournful throbbing of the drums.
Tobin rode beside Korin and Porion, of course, which put Ki just behind them with Caliel, Mylirin, and Tanil. All the squires carried torches. The King’s Guard flanked them and brought up the rear. Ki was glad of the line of red tunics to either side. Tonight he felt the full weight of the responsibility that underlay all their training and banquets and mock battles.
Looking back, he could just see the king over the heads of the other Companions. The torchlight turned Erius’ crown to a wreath of fire around his brow, and glanced from his upraised sword.
“He looks like Sakor himself, doesn’t he?” Mylirin whispered admiringly, following Ki’s gaze.
Ki nodded, distracted by a flash of silver and white beside the king. Lord Niryn rode at the king’s side like a general.
The crowds outside the Palatine had been smaller than they’d expected, and quiet. Passing through a neighborhood populated mostly by Aurënfaie nobles and rich merchants, however, Ki looked around nervously. It was not late, but hardly a light showed.
A herald rode ahead of the main column, calling out, “The king’s justice will be served. Long live King Erius!”
A few bystanders returned the call, but others faded back into shadowed doorways, watching their progress in silence. Looking up, Ki saw people watching them from their windows. He braced for more cabbages, or worse.
“Priest killer!” a lone voice shouted from the darkness. Ki saw several of the guards look around for the dissident, and a sense of unreality swept over him. These streets he’d ridden so freely suddenly felt like enemy territory.
Tobin and Korin rode at saddle attention, stiff as a pair of pokers, but Tobin was glancing around, alert to any threat. Ki wished he could see his friend’s face, read in those blue eyes what Tobin thought of all this, for suddenly he was more aware than he ever had been of the gulf that separated them—not of wealth, but of blood and history and position.
The crowds were thicker near the East Market. Many held up torches to light the king’s way and Ki scanned their faces: some looked sad, others smiled and waved. Here and there he saw people weeping.
Ki tensed, sweeping the crowd now for the glint of a blade or curve of a bow. He shivered with a mix of relief and dread as the gate finally come into sight ahead of them. He could already hear the sounds of a huge crowd.
This was the largest square in the city. Located halfway between the Palatine and the harbor, it was surrounded on three sides by tall buildings, including a theater the Companions had often patronized. The paved square sloped to the east and was bounded on that side by a low stone parapet overlooking a small wooded park and the harbor below.
Ki hardly recognized the place tonight. All the stalls had been cleared away and people stood shoulder to shoulder except for a processional way kept clear by Niryn’s grey-backs. Even the shrine of the Four was gone. That, even more than the sight of all those Harrier guards, gave him a strange sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
At the center of the square a broad, banner-draped platform rose like an island above the sea of faces. It was guarded on all sides by ranks of grey-backs armed with hand axes and swords. Eight white-robed wizards stood waiting there. Torches set at the four corners illuminated their silver-stitched robes, and the two large wooden frames looming just behind them.
They look like upended bedsteads, or doorways with no walls around them, thought Ki, already guessing their purpose from the stories he’d heard. Just behind them loomed a more familiar device: the stark frame of a gibbet. Ladders were propped ready against the crossbeam and Ki counted fifteen halters hanging ready.