“Hush, Barieus. Stay still, Lutha,” Tobin said, clasping Lutha’s cold hand.
Tharin knelt to inspect the wound.
“Struck a lung, by the looks,” said Dimias.
Tharin nodded. “It’ll leave a sucking wound when it comes out. We’d better leave it where it is for now.”
Lutha squeezed Tobin’s hand, trying to speak, but he couldn’t. Blood bubbled from his mouth with every breath.
Tobin kept his head down to hide his own tears. Lutha had been his first friend among the Companions.
“Let me have a look, my lords,” said Manies, who acted as leech for Tharin’s men when a drysian wasn’t around. He probed gently around the base of the shaft. “We ought to get him back to Rilmar, Prince Tobin. This will take more healing than anyone can give him here.” He turned to Amin. “Any drysians about?”
“Yes, in the village south of the keep.”
“Good, then let’s get him back.”
“How?” Tobin asked. He’d been prepared for battle, but not for a friend dying at his feet.
“Manies can take him,” said Tharin. “Amin, you ride for the healer.” He paused, looking down at Tobin. “By your leave.”
“Yes, go,” Tobin said, realizing they were waiting for his order. “Go on. Hurry!”
Some of the horses had been found. Amin leaped onto the closest one and thundered off down the trail. Manies mounted another and Tharin lifted Lutha into his arms, positioning the boy sideways so that the arrow stood free of the rider’s chest. Lutha was silent, except for his wet, labored breathing.
“Let me go with him, Tobin,” Barieus pleaded, and ran to find a horse.
Tobin’s legs felt too weak to hold him as he rose and surveyed the other bodies lying in the long grass—Arius, Sefus, and three other guardsmen—Gyrin, Haimus, and their old sergeant, Laris. Tears blurred his eyes again. He’d known these men his whole life. Laris had carried him around on his shoulders when Tobin was small.
It was too much to take in. Tobin turned away as the others began the task of wrapping the corpses for transport. Ki was tending to Arius; Quirion was nowhere to be seen.
Nikides and his party wandered back into the clearing. Nikides looked a bit green, but he and Ruan both had the warrior marks on their cheeks.
No word came from Korin. There was nothing to do but wait.
The sun was high by then and it was growing warm in the clearing. Flies had already found the dead. Several of the guardsmen had wounds, but they were minor. Koni tended to them while Tharin and the others combed the woods for missing horses, whistling and clucking their tongues. The Companions and Ki’s brothers kept watch in case the bandits regrouped and came back for a second raid.
Standing watch with Tobin, Ki stole a look at his friend’s pale, solemn face and sighed. He’d never admit it, but he was a little relieved to stay here. He’d had enough of killing for one day. Proud as he was to have fought for Tobin, he’d taken no pleasure in the slaughter. It had been nothing like the ballads made it out to be, just something that had had to be done, like picking weevils out of the flour barrel. Perhaps it would be different against real soldiers, he thought.
And the sight of people he’d known lying dead? And poor Lutha coughing up blood—that wasn’t like the ballads, either. Ki wondered guiltily if there was something wrong with him.
There’d be more wrong than that, if it wasn’t for Brother. He had to swallow hard to keep from retching. He hadn’t let himself think of that, but now with things so quiet, he couldn’t help it. He’d seen the swordsman coming at Tobin from behind. He’d tried to get to him but two others had blocked his way. Trying to dodge, he’d stumbled and fallen. By the time he got up it would have been too late, if not for Brother.
Tobin had seen him, too, knew it was Brother and not Ki who’d saved him at the critical moment. Ki had done the one thing no squire must ever do; let himself get separated from his lord in a pitched battle.
Was that why Tobin was being so quiet?
Quirion straggled in at last with some yarn about chasing off horse thieves. But everyone saw that his blade was clean, and how he couldn’t look anyone in the eye. He sat down by Arius’ body and pulled his cloak over his head, crying softly.
At least I didn’t run away, thought Ki.
An hour or so later Dimias let out a whoop from his post in a tall tree overlooking the trail.
“More bandits?” called Tobin, drawing his sword.
“Nah, it’s our folk. Coming in slow, too.” Dimias slumped glumly against the trunk. “Guess they didn’t need us after all.”
Korin rode into sight with Ahra and Porion. The others began cheering, but one look at Ahra told Ki something was amiss. Korin didn’t look right, despite the crusted warrior marks on his cheeks.
“What happened?” Nikides asked.
“We got them,” Korin replied, but even as he grinned, there was something in his eyes that wasn’t right. The other Companions were bloodied, too, and bragging, but Ki could have sworn that some of them were stealing odd looks at Korin behind his back. Caliel’s right arm was in a sling and Tanil was riding double behind Lynx, looking pale.
Ki tried to catch Porion’s eye, but Porion gave him a warning look, then shouted, “Prince Korin is blooded. He is a warrior today!”
There was more cheering after that. Everyone bore the coveted marks except Quirion, who crept off sniveling. Caliel’s squire, Mylirin, had taken an arrow in the shoulder, but his hauberk had stopped the point, though it left a nasty abraded bruise. Zusthra was proudly displaying a sword cut on his left cheek and Chylnir was limping, but the rest of the Companions seemed more or less whole. The guard and Ahra’s riders hadn’t been so fortunate. There were at least a dozen carrying shrouded bundles, and others were wounded.
They had the stolen women with them, too, or at least those who’d survived. They were a ravaged, empty-eyed lot, some of them wearing little more than rags and blankets. Ahra’s women were tending to them, but looking into those faces, Ki couldn’t help wondering if Innis had been right, after all.
Tobin had told him about Una earlier and he looked for her anxiously among them. It took a while to recognize her. Dirty and wild-haired as any lowborn fighter, she was busy bandaging the arm of one of her cohorts.
“Hullo,” she said, giving him a half smile as he joined her. “I’ve thanked Tobin already and I’ll thank you now. You were good teachers.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
She nodded, then went back to her work.
“It was a hard fight, but we cleaned out that nest of vermin,” Korin was saying. His bravado faltered when Tobin showed him Arius and told him what had happened to Lutha, but when Tobin mentioned the friends they lost among his guard, Korin just shrugged. “Well, that’s their lot, isn’t it?”
Korin had ordered the bandits and their camp burned. As they came out of the forest, Ki looked back and saw a distant pillar of smoke rising over the trees.
His spirits rose at the sight. They’d succeeded. He and Tobin had done their part and both lived to fight again. Ki even managed a silent thanks to Brother. But he kept an eye on Korin as they rode back. The prince was too quiet, his laughter forced.
They rode at ease now, and it was easy enough for Ki to drop back among his sister’s riders. He found Una again, riding near the end of the column.
“What happened?” he whispered.
Una’s silent, warning look told him nothing except that he was right to wonder.
35
As soon as they came in sight of Rilmar, Tobin, Ki, and Nikides galloped ahead to learn if Lutha had survived the journey. Sekora was grave when she met them in the hall. Larenth sat by the main hearth with Barieus. The squire had his face in his hands, shaking his head slowly as Larenth spoke to him in a low, surprisingly gentle voice.