— 34 —

The first moments of the ambush were eerily quiet. One minute Tobin was standing with the others, listening to the wind in the trees. Then, without warning, Tharin let out a choked cry and spun off his rock with an arrow protruding from his left thigh, just where the split in his hauberk hung a little open.

A good shot, or a lucky one, Tobin thought, heading for him. Then he was falling, knocked sideways.

“Stay down, Tob!” Ki seemed determined to remain on top of him.

“Tharin’s hit!”

“I know that. Stay down!”

Crushed into the long grass, Tobin couldn’t see past Amin, who was sprawled close beside him.

The air over their heads was filled with the dragonfly buzz of arrows now. Arrows thudded into the ground on both sides of Tobin and Ki. He could hear shouting in the trees. Somewhere nearby a man cried out in pain—Sefus was it? A horse screamed, then the whole tether line began to rear and kick. The ropes snapped and the horses scattered.

The arrow storm stopped as suddenly as it had started. Heaving Ki off, Tobin was the first on his feet. Everyone had scattered. Some were still down in the grass. Others had made it to the edge of the trees. Koni and some of the others were trying to calm the remaining horses.

“To me! To me!” Tobin shouted, drawing his sword and pointing to the cover of the trees to his right. “Come on, quickly!”

No sooner had he spoken than the arrow assault resumed, but the others had heard. Some ran with their shields up, others trusted to speed.

Ki shielded him as best he could without getting underfoot. Nikides and Ruan made it to them, and Ki’s brothers were there, too, shields up to catch the flying shafts.

But too many of them had been caught out in the open. Some weren’t moving; at least three of Tobin’s guard lay too still. The only one he could make out was Sefus, staring up at the sky with an arrow through one eye. Beyond him, Tobin saw someone else on the ground wearing the bright surcoat of a noble; from the colors, it was either Lutha or Barieus.

“Tobin, come on!” Ki urged, trying to pull him deeper into the trees. Tobin looked back at the boulder where Tharin had been, but there was no sign of the man. Praying his friend had made it to cover, Tobin ran to join the others hunkered down behind tree trunks and stones. Strangely, that empty feeling under his heart had disappeared; he didn’t feel much of anything. Looking out through the trees, he saw more bodies in the meadow, arrows sticking up like thistles around them.

Ki grasped Tobin’s arm again and pointed off to the right. “Do you hear that?”

Branches were crackling under someone’s boots nearby; whoever it was was headed their way. Tobin quickly took stock. Nikides and Ruan were the only other Companions with him. Quirion was nowhere to be seen. Besides Amin and Dimias, he had Koni and five other guardsmen. By now they could make out enemy sounds to their left, as well.

Damn, they caught us and split us, Tobin thought grimly. It was the worst possible start, especially since they had no idea how many men they were facing. Everyone was watching him.

“Nik, you take Koni, Amin, and those four and go to the left,” he said. It sounded like there were fewer people that way. “The rest of you, with me.”

Koni shrugged off his shield and gave it to him. “Take this, Tobin.”

Tobin accepted it gratefully. “Sakor’s luck, everyone.” Slipping his left arm through the straps, he set off, leading his little force deeper into the woods on the right.

They’d gone less than twenty yards when a pack of burly men broke cover and rushed them with axes, cudgels, and swords. There was no time to think after that. Tobin ran at them with Ki at his side, dimly aware of others running with them to meet the attack.

The two lead bandits bore down on Tobin like hounds on a rabbit; a noble was worth a ransom, and they probably took him for an easy catch. Ki blocked their way and got his sword up in time to keep the taller of the two from splitting his skull. The other man darted around and made a grab for Tobin. He wore a short mail shirt and helmet, but it was clear from the way he lunged in that he wasn’t a trained warrior. Tobin jumped back, then caught the fellow across the thigh with his sword. The man dropped his axe and went down, howling and clutching at the spurting wound.

Before Tobin could finish him, a blur of motion on his left made him turn and he nearly fell over a dead swordsman just behind him, close enough to have killed him. Silently thanking whoever had stopped him, Tobin turned to face another man charging him with an upraised cudgel. It was a foolish stance to take and Tobin was able to sidestep and strike him across the belly. The fellow staggered. Ki leaped in and finished him off with a stab to the neck.

More of the brigands appeared and rushed them. Shouts, screams, and curses rang out on all sides, punctuated by the clash of steel on steel. Tobin saw Dimias battling someone twice his weight and ran to help him but Amin leaped from behind a tree and caught the man across the throat.

Ki had been knocked down and Tobin turned to help him, only to find his path barred by another axe man. Years of training seemed to fall effortlessly into place. Almost before he knew what he was doing, he’d hacked at the man’s right shoulder, then followed through with a killing swing to the neck. He’d practiced the move a thousand times before, but it had never come so easily. The bandit wore no coif; Tobin’s blade sliced skin and muscle, then fetched up against bone. The man tumbled sideways, blood spurting from the deep gash in his neck as he fell. A gout hit Tobin in the face; the taste of hot copper and salt on his tongue made his own blood burn for more.

The distraction nearly cost him his life. Ki yelled and Tobin turned. For an instant he saw nothing but the blade coming at his head. Then he was falling backward, knocked off his feet by a blast of icy air. He hit a tree and fell awkwardly over on his side as his attacker bore him to the ground. Tobin struggled, trying to get away, then realized that the man wasn’t moving. His head lolled limply as Ki and Amin hauled him off Tobin, dead as a trout.

Tobin caught sight of Brother leering at him over Ki’s shoulder, his pale face twisted into that same animal snarl he’d worn when he’d killed Orun.

“Thank you,” Tobin whispered, but Brother was already gone.

“Bilairy’s balls!” Amin exclaimed, gawking down at the dead man. “What’d you do? Scare him to death?”

“I—I don’t know,” Tobin said, as Ki helped him up. How had Brother found him? Ki’s quick glance said he’d guessed, or perhaps even seen Brother.

It wasn’t until Dimias looked around, and said, “By the Flame! We done all right, didn’t we?” that Tobin realized the fighting was over.

Half a dozen men came running toward them through the trees, with Tharin in the lead. The arrow was gone, but a dark stain had spread down from the rent in his trousers. Tharin seemed untroubled by it. He was hardly limping, and his blade was dripping blood.

“Here you are!” he panted. “Thank the Light you’re safe! I didn’t see which way you ran—” Looking around at the dead, his eyes widened. “By the Flame!”

“What about you?” Ki demanded.

“It was a glancing hit and pulled out clean,” Tharin told him, still looking around, counting the dead.

“You should have seen our prince!” Koni exclaimed. “At least three of these are his. How many, Tobin?”

“I don’t know,” Tobin admitted. It was already a blur in his mind.

“First time out and all these,” Amin said, clapping Ki proudly on the shoulder. “You done yourself proud, little brother. You, too, Yer Highness. Which ’uns your first?”

Tobin looked back and was dismayed to see his first man, the one he’d cut in the leg, alive and trying to crawl away into the trees.

“Best finish the bastard,” Koni said.

“Yes, see to him, Tobin,” Tharin said quietly.

Tobin knew what he had to do, but that empty space below his heart was back as he walked slowly toward the man. Killing in battle had been easy, just a reflex. But the idea of finishing a wounded man on the ground, even an enemy, made his stomach lurch. Even so, he knew better than to hesitate with all the others watching him. He wouldn’t shame himself by showing weakness now.

He sheathed his sword and drew the long knife at his belt. Blood was still flowing from the gash on the man’s leg; he’d left a trail on the rust-colored pine needles.

He’ll probably die of that, if I don’t finish him, Tobin thought, moving in fast. The man’s head was bare, and his filthy hair was long enough for a good grip. One of Porion’s lessons came back to him. Pull the head back. Slice deep, hard, and quick.

As he bent to do it, however, the man rolled onto his back and threw his arms over his face. “Mercy, lord. I cry mercy!” he screeched.

“He ain’t no lord to claim it!” scoffed Dimias. “Go on, finish him.”

But the plea froze Tobin where he stood. He could see exactly where to aim the blow; the thick vein was pulsing in the man’s throat. It wasn’t fear that stayed his hand, or weakness; it was the memory of the king stabbing the bound wizard.

“He asked for mercy,” Tobin said, lowering his knife.

The man stared at Tobin over his upraised hands. “Thank you, m’lord. Bless you, m’lord!” He struggled to reach Tobin’s boot, trying to kiss it, but Tobin pulled away in disgust.

“Go on, get out of here. If I see you again, I will kill you.”

Dimias snorted as the wounded man scuttled off into the trees. “There’s one more we’ll have to fight again. He’s all ‘bless you, lord’ now, but he’ll stick a knife in you next chance he gets.”

“You may be right, boy, but that was nobly done, all the same,” said Tharin. Then, lowering his voice so only Tobin could hear, “Next time, strike quickly, before they have time to beg.”

Tobin swallowed and nodded. His sword hand was sticky; the blood on it felt like cold molasses and made him queasy.

Others of their company straggled in to join them as the boys found their kills. Tharin painted vertical lines on their cheeks with the blood and put a bit on their tongues, too.

“To keep the ghosts of all you kill in battle from haunting you,” he explained when Tobin grimaced.

“Where are the others?” Tobin asked, looking around. More soldiers had gathered around them by now, but Nik hadn’t returned yet. “Did you see Lutha or Quirion?” By his count more than a dozen of his guard were missing, and they could still hear scattered sounds of fighting.

“Arius was hit,” Tharin told him. “I saw Lord Nikides fighting on the far side as I came across to you. There are still a few archers at work, and I counted ten bandits trying to make off with horses.”

Amin spat on the ground. “They knew we was coming, the bastards.”

“That, or they backtracked Korin,” said Tharin.

“Then we’ve got to get to him!” Ki exclaimed. “If there are enough of them to come after us—”

“No, our post is here,” said Tobin. “Korin said he’d send for us if he needs us.”

Tharin saluted him. “With your permission, I’ll send men out to scout the surrounding woods.”

Reaching the clearing, they found Barieus still shooting at two enemy archers. The fallen Companion in the meadow was Lutha. The boy lay facedown in the grass with an arrow in his back. He was alive, though, and trying to crawl to safety. As Tobin watched, another shaft thudded into the ground near Lutha’s outstretched hand.

Barieus cried out and ran into the open for a better shot. His arrows sped true, but even at this distance Tobin could see that he was weeping.

Tobin marked the enemy archers’ position and set off to flank them.

“Follow the prince!” Tharin called.

Tharin and Ki caught up with him just as they surprised four more swordsmen skirting the clearing. Tharin ran one through and the others fled. They found one archer dead; the other was gone by the time they reached the tree he’d been sheltering behind.

Ignoring Tharin’s warning, Tobin ran out to Lutha. Barieus was already with him.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I tried to get to him, but I couldn’t get out!”

Lutha pushed himself up, trying to rise, but a coughing fit took him. Bloody foam flew from his lips and he collapsed, clawing at the grass.

“When it started, we were caught out here,” Barieus told them. “He said to run and I thought he was with me, but—”

“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.