The Oracle’s Queen. Lynn Flewelling
and where did that get us? If Illior has made Tobin into a queen, then who am I to argue? So, how can I help?”
Ki clasped his friend’s hand and smiled. “Get your strength back and keep an eye on Tanil for me. Well, I better get back. Take care of yourself and do as the healers tell you.”
Ki felt a bit better for seeing his friend awake, but returned to the house unsure of his welcome. He felt bad about how things had gone earlier and was anxious to put it right.
Tamír was sitting on the bed reading a letter. She had on a long linen shirt under the dressing gown, and her damp hair hung loose over her shoulders. Baldus was curled up asleep on his pallet by the door.
She looked up as he came in, and he could tell she was trying to gauge his mood, too.
“I just saw Nik and Tanil.”
“How are they?”
“Nik’s mending. Tanil’s not doing so well. His spirit’s broken.”
“I don’t wonder. I’ll go see him tomorrow.” She gestured casually at the tub. “I had more warm water brought in.” She paused, looking uneasy again. “I can go in the sitting room—”
“Whatever you like,” Ki answered too quickly. Did she want to stay, or go? He was damned if he could tell. He had the feeling that no matter what he did, it would be wrong. When it came right down to it, though, she’d seen him naked so often that that didn’t make a bit of difference. All he wanted right now was hot water and a clean bed. “I don’t mind either way.”
After all the earlier embarrassment, he’d expected her to leave. Instead, she shrugged and went back to the letter.
Suit yourself, he thought, wondering at this new shift in the wind. He stripped and sank gratefully into the tub. It wasn’t very hot, but it was the cleanest water he’d seen in days. Settling back, he went to work with the soap and sponge.
As he washed, he found himself glancing over at Tamír. She was still engrossed in that letter. He ducked his head, rinsing lather from his hair, and looked up to find her still staring down at the parchment. It was only a single sheet. It couldn’t be taking her that long to read it.
“What’s that you’re looking at?” he asked.
She glanced up with a guilty start and colored a little, as if he’d caught her staring. Damn, this was strange!
“A letter from Lady Myna of Tynford, offering fealty,” she told him.
“Already? Word travels fast.”
She tossed the letter aside and stretched out on her stomach, chin propped on one hand. “I can’t stop thinking about Korin. A retreat’s one thing, but for him to just run off like that and leave the city open to the enemy? That doesn’t seem right.”
“I’m sure he had his reasons at the time.” Cowardice, most likely, he thought, scrubbing at a bloodstain on his left knee.
Tamír stared off at nothing for a moment, brow knitted in thought. “Damn that Niryn! It has to be him, weakening Kor’s mind.”
“I don’t doubt it. But maybe Korin wasn’t too hard to sway, either.” So much for tact.
Tamír gave him a wry look. “I know, Ki. You were right about him all along, but I still say there’s good in him, too. Once we know where he is, I’ll call for a parley. There’s got to be some way to resolve this, short of war!”
“I admit I don’t much like the idea of facing friends on the battlefield. Not even Alben or Mago. Well, maybe Mago.”
That earned him a fleeting grin. Ki stood up and reached for the dry flannel by the tub, noting how she averted her eyes. He quickly wrapped the cloth around his waist and looked around for something to put on besides his own filthy clothes.
Someone had laid out clean garments for him, too. The long linen shirt had white silk embroidery around the neck and gathered cuffs. He pulled it over his head, then stood there with the breeches in his hand, unsure what to do next.
He looked up at Tamír again and saw the same confusion. They both wanted this to be simple, like nothing had changed.
She shrugged, not quite looking at him. “Stay?”
“All right.” But he pulled on the breeches anyway, then blew out all but one lamp. He returned uncertainly to the bed, wondering if he should sleep on the floor with Baldus. Tamír was under the covers now, with the coverlet pulled up to her nose. He could just see her dark eyes watching him expectantly.
Still uncertain, he wrapped himself in a spare blanket and settled on the far edge of the bed. They lay facing each other, faces half-shadowed in the soft glow of the night lamp. Less than two arms span separated them, but it felt like a mile.
After a moment, Tamír reached out to him. He laced his fingers with hers, glad of the contact. Her fingers were warm and sun-browned from days in the saddle, not soft and pale like the girls he’d bedded. Those hands had trembled, or caressed. Tamír held his hand firm and sure, same as always. It made Ki feel very odd inside, even as he watched her eyes drift shut and her face relax in sleep. With her face pressed into the pillow and her hair spilled across her cheek like that, she looked like Tobin again.
He waited until he was certain she was really asleep, then let go of her hand and rolled on his back, teetering on the edge of the mattress and longing for the nights when they’d so innocently slept warm in each other’s arms.
In the dream she was still Tobin who’d lived at the keep, and the tower door was never locked.
He climbed the stairs to his mother’s ruined sitting room at the top and found Brother waiting for him. Hand in hand, the twins climbed onto the ledge of the window that looked west toward the mountains. Between the tips of his boots, Tobin saw the river below, surging black beneath the ice like a great serpent trying to break free.
The grip on his hand tightened; it was his mother with him now, not Brother. Ariani was pale and bloody, but she smiled as she stepped off the ledge, pulling Tobin down with her.
But Tobin didn’t fall. He flew up into the sky and far over the mountains to a cliff above the dark Osiat Sea. Looking back over his shoulder he saw the now-familiar hills, and snowy peaks beyond. As always in this dream, the robed man stood off in the distance, waving to him. Would he ever see the man’s face?
Then Ki appeared at Tobin’s side and took his hand, drawing him to the brink of the cliff to show him the fine harbor that lay below. Tobin could see their faces reflected down there, side by side, like a miniature painted on silver foil.
Tamír had experienced this dream so often now that she knew she was dreaming, and turned all the more eagerly to Ki. Perhaps this time …
But as always, she woke with a start before their lips could touch.
Ki lay curled up on the far side of the bed, and opened his eyes as soon as she stirred. “You were restless. Did you sleep at all?”
“Yes. And now I’m starving.” She lay there, watching with bittersweet fondness as Ki yawned and stretched and rubbed his eyes. He’d left the front of his shirt unlaced and she could see the little horse charm she’d made him soon after they’d met, still hanging around his neck on its chain. He’d never taken it off since she’d given it to him, not even in the bath. For a fleeting moment it could have been any morning in the old days, the two of them waking up together to face a new day.
The illusion shattered as quickly as her dream had when he got up so quickly and made his way barefoot to the door.
“I’ll go find us something to eat,”