almost done here,” she told him, hugging her knees to her chest. “I told Ki he could use the water when I’m done but it’s gone cold.”
Brother had stolen the last of the heat. No, don’t think of him right now, and what he’d hinted at. She’d had too much to bear already, without looking for murderers among what was left of her circle of trusted friends. She clung to the fact that Tharin had not been anywhere near her mother that night. But Iya had, and Arkoniel. Perhaps there had been someone else? It was too painful to contemplate.
“That’s a long face.” Tharin helped her from the tub and wrapped her in a large flannel, rubbing her hair with a corner of it.
Tamír dried herself and put on the robe again, not looking at him as she let the flannel drop.
When she was dressed, he urged her into bed and pulled the comforter up around her, then sat down and took her hand. “That’s better.”
His kind, knowing look undid her. She threw her arms around his neck and hid her face against his chest, not caring that he still stank of blood and smoke. “I’m glad you’re still with me!”
He rubbed her back. “As long as I draw breath.”
“I’m going to make you a prince of the realm when I’m queen.”
Tharin chuckled. “Bad enough you’ve made me a lord. Leave well enough alone.”
He stroked a wet strand of hair back from her cheek and gave one braid a tug. “You’re worried about Ki.”
Tamír nodded. It was half the truth, anyway.
“He didn’t look any happier than you when he left.” She felt him sigh. “You’re determined to keep him by you, aren’t you?”
“You think I’m wrong?”
“No, but you might consider the boy’s feelings.”
“I’d be happy to, if he’d tell me what they are! He treats me like I’m someone else now.”
“Well, like it or not, you are.”
“No!”
Tharin patted her shoulder. “Maybe just who you were, then, with more added on.”
“Tits, you mean?”
“You call those little flea bites tits?” He laughed at her outraged look. “Yes, your body’s changed, and that’s something that can’t just be pushed aside, especially not by a young man with Ki’s hot blood.”
Tamír looked away, mortified. “I want him to see me as a girl, to like me that way, but then again, I don’t. Oh, Tharin, I’m so confused!”
“You both need time to know your hearts.”
“You always treat me just the same.”
“Well now, it’s different with me, isn’t it? Boy or girl, you’re Rhius’ child. But you’re not a little one anymore, for me to carry on my shoulder and make toys for. You’re my liege and I’m your man. But Ki?” He picked up the discarded flannel and rubbed it over her dripping hair. “I know what your feelings for him have grown to this past year or so. He knows it, too.”
“But shouldn’t that make it easier?”
He paused in his drying. “How would you feel if you woke up tomorrow and Ki was a girl?”
Tamír blinked up at him through her tangled hair. “It’s not the same! That would make things harder between us, like when I was a boy. This way, we can—have each other. If he wants to!”
“First he’ll have to stop seeing Tobin every time he looks at you. And that won’t be easy because he’s still looking so hard to see him.”
“I know. Who do you see, Tharin?”
He patted her knee. “I told you. I see my friend’s child.”
“You really loved my father, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “And he loved me.”
“But he left you for Mother. Why didn’t you stop loving him then?”
“Sometimes love can change its form rather than end. That’s what happened with your father.”
“But your feelings never changed, did they?”
“No.”
She was old enough now to guess at what he was leaving unsaid. “Didn’t it hurt?”
She’d never seen the sorrow more clearly in his face, or the sharp edge of anger that came with it when he nodded and replied softly, “Like fire, at first, and for a long time after. But not enough to drive me away, and I can say now that I’m glad. There was a time when I’d have answered differently. I was a grown man by then, and I had my pride.”
“Why did you stay?”
“He asked me to.”
She’d never heard him say so much before. “I always wondered—”
“What?”
“After Mama got sick and turned against him, were—were you and Father ever lovers again?”
“Certainly not!”
“I’m sorry. That was rude.” Still, something in that last response intrigued her—a flash of pride. She wondered what it meant but knew better than to ask. “So what do I do about Ki?”
“Give him time. Ki could never have loved you the way you wanted as Tobin. It just isn’t in him. But he suffered over it, and now he’s suffering over the loss of who you two were together.” He draped the flannel over her shoulder. “Let him heal a while. You can do that for him, can’t you?”
She nodded. Of course she could. But that didn’t make her feel any better tonight. “Is he out there?”
“He went off by himself, but he’ll be back.”
“We’ll need more hot water for sure, then,” Tamír mused. “Should I leave while he bathes?”
Tharin shrugged. “It would be polite to ask.”
The courtyard was filled with soldiers and servants. Ki kept to the shadows and went to the new stone stable, where the wounded were being tended.
Illardi bred fine horses from Aurënfaie stock; his stable was far nicer than the house where Ki had been born, and considerably larger. Inside, Ki could just make out rafters and dressed stone at the edge of the lamplight. It smelled of new wood and fresh straw, but also of blood and wounds, and herbs being burned or brewed on the braziers. Half a dozen drysian healers were at work, wearing bloodstained aprons over their long brown robes.
People lay everywhere on makeshift pallets, looking like bundles of laundry laid out for washing day. Ki picked his way among them, looking for Nikides and Tanil. One of the healers noticed him and came over.
“Lord Kirothieus, are you seeking the Companions?” she asked. “We put them together, over there in that stall at the end.”
He found Nikides propped up in a deep bed of new straw. Another figure sat huddled in a far corner of the stall, muffled in several blankets. Even his head was covered.
“Tanil?” When Ki moved closer, the squire let out a soft moan and cowered deeper into the shadows. Ki settled back on his heels. “It’s all right. You’re safe here.”
Tanil said nothing, just curled more tightly in on himself.
“Ki, is that you?” It was a papery whisper.
Ki turned to find