— 40 —
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Korin and the Companions returned to Ero with the autumn rains and were overjoyed to find Lutha and Barieus waiting on the quay to greet them when they’d sailed in. Lutha was not only well again, but had grown a full three inches.

“Almost dying agreed with me,” he said, laughing as everyone exclaimed over him. “I still can’t seem to catch up with you, though, Tobin.”

Tobin grinned shyly. He’d grown so quickly over the past year that he’d needed new clothes made. He stood as tall as Korin, now, but even though he was nearly fifteen, he was still slender and beardless, a fact the others chafed him about unmercifully.

Tobin did his best to laugh, but inwardly he was increasingly dismayed. All of his friends were filling out like men. Ki was broader through the shoulders and now sported a sparse moustache and narrow chin beard, a fashion Korin had set in the spring. Nik and Lutha both boasted “double arrows,” respectable points of silky hair above the corners of their mouths.

Even Brother had changed. They’d always been nearly identical, but over the past year Brother had taken on a more man-grown look, with shoulders as broad as Ki’s. Soft black hair shadowed his upper lip and the middle of his chest, while Tobin’s remained smooth as a girl’s.

Over the summer he’d even found himself making excuses not to go bathing with the others; in spite of his new height Tobin still looked like a child compared to most of them.

Worse yet, he had a hard time not staring at their well-muscled bodies and privates. Wrestling matches, a favorite sport since he’d joined the Companions, evoked unsettling feelings, too, especially with Ki.

Tharin had guessed part of the problem as Tobin sulked around the ship’s deck one hot day in Lenthin. Everyone else was ashore, swimming in a cove, but Tobin had stayed behind, pleading a headache. Even Ki had abandoned him.

“I was a skinny thing at your age, too,” Tharin said kindly, sitting with him in the shade of the sail. “Any day now you’ll have hair on your lip and muscles like a wrestler.”

“Was it that way with my father?” Tobin asked.

“Well, Rhius grew faster, but you may take after your mother’s side. Her father was a slim man, but strong like you.” He gave Tobin’s upper arm an appraising pinch. “You’re all whipcord and wire, just like he was. And quick as a cat, too. I saw you get under Zusthra’s guard yesterday. Quickness can overcome bulk any day if you’re smart. And you are.”

None of this made Tobin feel much better. He couldn’t tell Tharin about the moonflow pains that plagued him more often now. Even knowing the truth, he felt left behind. No wonder the girls had all stopped flirting with him.

That’s not why, a small secret voice whispered deep in his heart. They know. They can tell.

He knew what was whispered about Ki and him, whispers they both ignored for their own reasons. But sometime over the summer when he wasn’t even looking, something had changed; something he didn’t dare let himself think about when Ki was around, for fear it would show in his face.

Ki loved him as much as ever, but there was no question how his fancies ran. A few of the servant girls had given him a tumble back in Ero, and there’d been more opportunities on the voyage. Ki was handsome and easygoing; girls were drawn to him like cats to cream. He wasn’t above bragging about his exploits to the other boys, either.

Tobin was always silent during these conversations, tongue locked to the roof of his mouth. Just Tobin being shy, as usual, everyone thought, and Ki saw no further than that. In his mind they were brothers, as they’d always been. He never said a word to Tobin about the whispers or treated him any differently. In return, Tobin swallowed the confused yearnings that assailed him at odd moments and did the same.

It was always worst on the full moon, when the moontide pangs tugged at his belly, reminding Tobin who he really was. Sometimes he even caught himself watching young women with envy wondering what it felt like to stride about in flowing skirts, with strands of beads woven into your hair and scent at your wrists—and to have the boys look at you that way.

Someday, Tobin thought, hiding his burning face in the pillow on such nights, trying not to think about Ki lying so close beside him, close enough to touch. Someday he’ll know, and then we’ll see.

Other times, alone and naked he looked down at his narrow hips and flat bony chest, took in the plain face reflected in his mirror, and wondered if he’d ever be a proper woman, either? Cupping his small penis in his hand, he tried to imagine the loss of it and shuddered, more confused than ever.

As they turned toward home at last, he vowed he’d find some way to visit Lhel.

Back in Ero at last, Tobin and Ki found themselves masters of a new suite of rooms in Korin’s wing of the new palace. The other boys were assigned quarters nearby.

There was the usual round of balls and salons, and the pleasure of returning to their old haunts in the city. They’d only been home for a few weeks, however, when the king announced another execution in the square. Tobin had nearly forgotten the incident with the young priest, and the way people had looked at Korin that day, but now they rode out under double guard.

There were three wizards burned this time; Tobin kept as far from the platform as he could, fearful of being recognized; but, unlike before, the condemned went passively, silent behind their ugly iron masks.

Tobin wanted to look away when they burned, but he knew the others were watching him, and wondering. No doubt a few of them still hoping that he’d make a spectacle of himself again. So he kept his eyes open and his face turned to the blinding white fires, trying not to see the dark figures writhing within.

There was no dissent this time. The crowd roared its approval and the Companions cheered. Tobin blinked his smarting eyes and looked over at Korin. As he suspected, his cousin was watching him and gave Tobin a proud grin. Tobin’s stomach lurched, and he had to swallow hard as bile rose in his throat.

Tobin could only pretend to eat during the banquet that followed. The nausea had passed, but he felt the stir of the pains deep in his belly, like a reminder. They grew stronger as the evening went on, as bad as they’d been that day he’d bled. Lhel had promised him that wouldn’t happen again, but every new pain sent his heart racing. What if there was blood again? What if someone saw?

Niryn was at the king’s side, as always, and more than once Tobin was certain he felt the man’s cold gaze on him. Serving with the squires, Ki gave him a questioning look. Tobin hastily busied himself with the slab of lamb going cold on his trencher, forcing down a few mouthfuls.

As soon as they were released from the feast, he fled to the nearest privy and checked his trousers for blood. There wasn’t any, of course, but it was still hard to meet Ki’s worried gaze as he emerged.

“You sick, Tob?”

Tobin shrugged. “Executions still don’t agree with me, I guess.”

Ki put an arm around him as they made their way back to their chambers. “Me neither. And I hope they never do.”

Your nephew still has no stomach for the just execution of your law, my king,” Niryn remarked, as they sat smoking in Erius’ gardens that night.

Erius shrugged. “He looked a little green, but he held up well.”

“Indeed. Yet it is curious that a boy who has proven himself so well in battle would be unsettled by the death of a criminal, don’t you think?” But not merely unsettled. The boy had been angry. It had rather amused the wizard, even as he’d stored the knowledge away. The prince was of no consequence, and circumstance might yet take care of any impediment he’d impose. Another battle, perhaps, or a touch of plague.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Erius watched a smoke ring he’d blown drift away on the evening breeze. “I knew a fine general, a true lion in battle, who would go white with fear if a cat came into the room. And I shouldn’t tell you this, but I’ve seen General Rheynaris himself faint at the sight of his own blood. We all have our little quirks. It’s no wonder a boy should blanch at the sight of a man being burned alive. Took me a while to get used to it.”

“I suppose, Majesty.”

“And what does it matter, anyway?” Erius chuckled. “I’ve no need of him as an heir anymore. Aliya’s pregnant again, you know, and ripening nicely.”

“You’re very fond of her, Majesty.”

“She’s pretty, she’s strong and has spirit—more than a match for that son of mine—and she dotes on me like a true daughter. And what a queen she’ll make, if only she can throw an heir this time.”

Niryn smiled and blew a smoke ring of his own.