“But he could still be cuckolded, even by a rightful consort,” Ki pointed out.
Before they could debate that point, the sound of approaching footsteps brought them all to attention.
It wasn’t Korin, or Porion, however, but Moriel. They’d seen little of the Toad since the incident with Tobin and the girls. Perhaps he’d gotten wind of how Tobin’s friends planned to get even with him for his treachery.
He didn’t look very happy to be here now. “The king wants all of you to dine with him at the palace. You’re to come back with me now.”
“What’s going on with Korin?” demanded Caliel.
“Moriel made him a slight” bow. “I’m only the messenger, my lord.”
Ki guessed from the Toad’s sour expression that he knew more than he was saying. “Must be good news for us!” he whispered, nudging Tobin as they went out. “If the king was angry at us for letting Korin run wild, Toad wouldn’t be looking like he’s got a belly cramp.”
There were hundreds of corridors and passages threading the New Palace courts together, a labyrinth for any who didn’t live there. Most of the Companions had only been as far as the public wing, in its own right a maze of grand audience and ministerial chambers, armories, treasury rooms, and public gardens, temples, and fountain courts.
Moriel knew his way and led them to a small dining chamber in the king’s wing. Tall windows edged in patterns of colored glass overlooked a garden with golden fountains and tall, vine-covered walls. Braziers burned by the long dining table, where a cold supper had been laid ready. Bowing, Moriel withdrew.
The boys stood about uncertainly, not daring to touch the food without the king’s leave. Erius came in at last, accompanied by Korin, Porion, and Raven. All of them looked very solemn.
“I suppose you’ve heard the news regarding my son and Lady Aliya?” the king rumbled, looking sharply around at them.
“Yes, Majesty,” everyone said, coming to attention.
He let them dangle a moment longer, then broke into a broad smile. “Well, then, pour a libation and raise a toast to Korin and his lady, and my future grandchild!”
Tobin dutifully kissed his uncle on both cheeks and took his seat on his left. The squires hastened to serve, for there were no other servants.
When Lynx had poured the wine, they tipped the first few drops out onto the flagstones, then drank the successions of healths and blessings.
“It’s been too long since we had a simple meal together,” Erius said, as the first course was passed.
He kept the conversation to ordinary things while they ate—hunting, their progress at training. Porion and Raven were both uncharacteristically effusive in their praise of the boys.
As Ki and Barieus passed the last trays of sweets, Erius stood and smiled around at them. “Well, boys, are you young warriors ready to try your hand at proper fighting?”
Everyone gaped for a moment, afraid to believe what they’d just heard. Then they burst into new cheers and sloshed their cups about, saluting the king. Ki flung his tray up with a whoop and half strangled Tobin with a hug while quince tarts rained around them.
“There is one impediment, however,” Erius went on, giving Korin a wink. “It wouldn’t be seemly for Korin to wed before he’s properly blooded, but his lady isn’t giving us time to start the war up again, so we’ll have to make do with what Skala can offer at home.”
Everyone laughed. Tobin cast a grateful look Porion’s way, certain that the old warrior had finally found a way to press their cause.
When the table was cleared Korin unrolled a map. Leaning in beside him, Tobin recognized a section of the northern coastline.
“Here’s where we’re going,” Korin told them, pointing to an inland location in the mountains. “A strong band of brigands has been reported in the foothills north of Colath. Father wants them cleaned out before winter.”
“How many?” Lutha asked eagerly.
“Fifty or so, by the reports we’ve had,” Raven croaked. “By all accounts, they’re a disorganized rabble. Until now they’ve kept on the move, attacking at night without warning, preying on small villages. They’re making a winter camp in the hills, so they’ll be easy enough to find.”
“We’ll be going to a fortress not too far from there, at Rilmar.”
“Rilmar?” Ki exclaimed.
Erius chuckled. “I thought it was time your father thanked his young benefactor properly. And I don’t imagine you’ll mind seeing your family again? I understand it’s been a long time since you’ve seen them?”
“Yes, Majesty. Thank you.” But he didn’t sound pleased. Everyone else was too excited to notice, but Tobin glanced at his friend in concern. He used to love to tell stories about his kin. They sounded like a wild, hot-blooded bunch, and Tobin had always wanted to meet them. But Ki didn’t talk of them so much anymore, except for Ahra.
“So it will be us against fifty?” Lutha was asking eagerly.
“Well, Tobin and I will take our guard, so there’s forty, plus all you lot,” Korin explained. “Lord Larenth can provide another score or so, but this will be our battle.
“And don’t worry,” he added, ruffling Tobin’s hair and looking around at the younger boys. “We all go”
“We can be ready by daylight!” said Caliel.
Erius chuckled. “It will take a bit longer than that. The ships are being readied, and supplies packed. You boys will help oversee the preparations, as part of your education. Two days is soon enough.” Erius clasped Korin by the shoulder and gave him an affectionate shake. “As soon as you come back with blood on your cheeks, we’ll announce this wedding of yours.”
32
The three-day voyage was Tobin’s first experience aboard a ship. Their vessels, two deep-bellied carracks with red sails, were large enough to transport their horses.
Tobin felt a flutter of fear as the ship shifted beneath his feet, but by the time they’d passed the harbor mouth he’d found his sea legs. Behind them, the city glistened in the morning sun, reminding him again of the toy city above its painted harbor. Only then, when it was too late, did he realize that in all the excitement of the preparations, he’d completely forgotten about Brother. The old rag doll was still in its hiding place in the dressing room.
“Don’t worry,” Ki said, when Tobin confided this to him. “No one ever dusts up there anyway. And it’s not like he’d be any good to you in battle.”
Porion was their sergeant now, and Tharin and Melnoth were their captains. Korin spent hours with the men, asking a hundred questions and listening to tales of past battles. The rest of the boys gathered around for these lessons and by the time they rounded the headlands at Greyhead, they’d already fought the battle a dozen times over in their heads.
“These aren’t trained soldiers you’re going against,” Porion warned repeatedly. “They can’t be counted on to follow the rules of engagement.”
“Chances are you won’t see half of them at any given moment,” Tharin added. “They’ll be up in trees, or shooting at you from the bushes. Our best bet is to take them unawares if we can, before they have time to scatter.”
The sea shone green under the pale sun each day. The weather held clear, with a good following wind. On the third morning they dropped anchor at a large fishing village and spent the day unloading the horses and their gear. The coastline was rougher than in Ero, and the forest hugged the sea ledges.
The village was a small, lonely place, without a palisade or market square, or an inn. The Companions spent the night on pallets in the thatch-roofed temple of Astellus, which doubled as a wayfarers’ hostel. Their men camped on the beach under canvas lean-tos. The next morning they set off at dawn, following a winding road up into the hills.
The mountains were different, too. They were shorter and rounder, like worn-down teeth, and thickly forested almost to their tops. Their rocky summits showed through like a balding man’s pate. The wide valleys between were well watered and dotted with steadings and walled villages.