shut away in his chamber. Now that most of the servants had run away or been dismissed, Nari did more work around the keep during the daytime, cleaning and helping Cook in the kitchen. Tharin was there as always, but Tobin didn’t feel like riding or shooting, or even practicing at swords.
His one companion during the long, dreary days that spring was the demon. It followed him everywhere, and lurked in the shadows of the dusty upstairs room when he visited the doll. Tobin could feel it watching him. It knew his secret.
Tobin was pushing a little stick person around the streets of his city a few days later when Tharin appeared in the doorway.
‘How goes life in Ero today?’ Tharin sat down beside him and helped set some of the clay sheep back on their feet in their market enclosure. There were raindrops in his short blond beard, and he smelled like fresh air and leaves. He didn’t seem to mind that Tobin said nothing. Instead, he carried on the conversation for both of them, just as if he knew what Tobin was thinking. ‘You must be missing your mother. She was a fine lady in her day. Nari tells me she brightened up these past few months. I hear she was teaching you your letters?’
Tobin nodded.
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Tharin paused to arrange a few sheep more to his liking. ‘Do you miss her?’
Tobin shrugged.
‘By the Flame, I do.’
Tobin looked up in surprise and Tharin nodded. ‘I watched your father court her. He loved her then, and she him. Oh, I know it must not have seemed so to you, but that’s how it was before. They were the handsomest pair in all Ero – him a warrior in his prime, and her the fair young princess, just come into womanhood.’
Tobin fiddled. with a toy ship. He couldn’t imagine his parents acting any differently towards one another than they ever had.
Tharin got up and held out a hand to Tobin. ‘Come on, then, Tobin, you’ve moped around inside long enough. The rain’s stopped and the sun’s shining. It’s fine shooting weather. Go fetch your boots and cloak. Your weapons are downstairs where you left them.’
Tobin let himself be pulled up and followed the man out to the barracks yard. The men were lounging in the sun and greeted Tobin with false heartiness.
‘There he is at last!’ grey-bearded Laris said, swinging Tobin up on his shoulder. ‘We’ve missed you, lad. Is Tharin putting you back to your lessons?’
Tobin nodded.
‘What’s that, young prince?’ Koni chided playfully, giving Tobin’s foot a shake. ‘Speak up, won’t you?’
‘He will when he’s ready,’ said Tharin. ‘Fetch the Prince’s sword and let’s see how much he remembers.’
Tobin saluted Tharin with his blade and took his position. He felt stiff and clumsy all over as they began the forms, but by the time he reached the final set of thrusts and guards, the men were cheering him on.
‘Not bad,’ said Tharin. ‘But I want to see you out here every day again. The time will come when you’ll be glad of all these exercises. Now let’s see how your bow arm is.’
Ducking into the barracks, he returned with Tobin’s bow and practice arrows, and the sack of shavings they used for a target. He tossed the sack out into the middle of the yard, about twenty paces away.
Tobin checked his string, then fitted an arrow to it and pulled. The arrow flew high and awry and landed in the mud near the wall.
‘Mind your breathing and spread your feet a little,’ Tharin reminded him.
Tobin took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he drew again. This time the arrow struck home, skewering the bag and knocking it several feet.
‘That’s the way. And again.’
Tharin only allowed him three arrows at practice. After he shot them all, he was to think about how to improve his shooting as he collected them.
Before he could do so this time, Tharin turned to Koni. ‘Do you have those new arrows fletched for the Prince?’
‘Right here.’ Koni reached behind the barrel he was sitting on and brought out a quiver with half a dozen new shafts fletched with wild goose feathers. ‘Hope they bring you luck, Tobin,’ he said, presenting them to the boy.
Pulling one out, Tobin saw that it had a small round stone for a point head. He grinned up at Tharin; these were hunting arrows.
‘Cook has a hankering to cook some rabbit or grouse,’ Tharin told him. ‘Want to help me find supper? Good. Laris, go ask the Duke if he’d like to join a hunting party. Manies, got Gosi saddled.’
Laris hurried off, only to return alone a few moments later shaking his head.
Tobin hid his disappointment as best he could as he rode up the muddy mountain road with Tharin and Koni. The trees were still bare, but a few green shoots were already pushing up through last year’s leaves. The first hint of true spring was on the air, and the forest smelled of rotting wood and wet earth. When they reached what Tharin judged to be a promising stretch of woods, they dismounted and set off along a faint, winding trail.
This was the first time Tobin had ever travelled so far into the forest. The road was soon lost from sight behind them and the trees grew thicker, the ground rougher. With only their own careful footsteps to break the quiet, he could hear the eerie squeak of trees rubbing together, and the patter of little creatures in the undergrowth. Best of all, the demon hadn’t followed. He was free.
Tharin and Koni showed him how to call the curious grouse into the open, mimicking its funny puk puk puk call. Tobin pursed his lips as they did, but only a faint popping sound came out.
A few birds answered Tharin’s call, poking their heads from the undergrowth or hopping up on logs to see what was going on. The men let Tobin shoot at all of them and he finally hit one, knocking it off a fallen tree.
‘Well done!’ said Tharin, clapping him on the shoulder proudly. ‘Go on and gather your kill.’
Still clutching his bow, Tobin hurried to the tree and peered over it.
The grouse had fallen over on its breast, but it wasn’t dead. Its striped head was twisted to the side and it stared up at him with one black eye. Its tail fan beat weakly as he bent over it, but the bird couldn’t move. A drop of bright blood welled at the tip of its beak, red as …
Tobin heard a strange buzzing, like bees, but it was too early in the year. The next thing he knew, he was lying on the damp ground, looking up into Tharin’s worried face as the man chafed his wrists and chest.
‘Tobin? What’s wrong with you, lad?’
Puzzled, Tobin sat up and looked around. There was his bow lying on the damp ground, but no one seemed upset about that. Koni was sitting on the fallen tree beside him, holding the dead grouse up by its feet.
‘You got him, Prince Tobin. You knocked old Master Grouse right off his log. What did you go and faint for, eh? Are you sick?’
Tobin shook his head. He didn’t know what had happened. Reaching for the bird, he spread its tail and admired the fan of barred feathers.
‘It was a fine shot, but I think perhaps that’s enough for today,’ said Tharin.
Tobin shook his head again, more vigorously this time, and jumped up to show them how well he was.
Tharin hesitated a moment, then laughed. ‘All right then, if you say so!’
Tobin shot another grouse before dusk and by the time they started down the road everyone had forgotten all about his silly faint, even Tobin.
Over the next few weeks the days grew longer and they spent more time in the forest. Spring came to the mountains, clothing the trees in fresh new green and pulling tender shoots and colourful mushrooms up through the brown loam. Does came out into the forest clearing to teach their spotted