Free Hidden Warrior by Lynn Flewelling

meant.
    The narrow streets seemed all the more dark and filthy to Tobin after weeks in the mountains. This was a poor quarter and the faces he saw peering out from windows and doorways were pinched and pale as ghosts.
    “Stinking Ero,” he muttered, wrinkling his nose.
    Iya gave him an odd look from under her hood, but said nothing.
    “Guess we were gone long enough to get the smell out of our noses,” said Ki.
    Urging their mounts on at a gallop, they clattered up the steep, twisting streets to the walled Palatine. The streets grew marginally cleaner in the upper precincts, and in some the woven ropes of evergreen boughs and wheat had already been hung over some doorways in preparation for the Festival of Sakor.
    T he captain of the Palatine Guard greeted Tharin at the gates. “Prince Korin left word for Prince Tobin, my lord,” he said, bowing low. “He bids his cousin come to the feasting hall as soon as he arrives.”
    “Did Lord Orun leave any message?” asked Tobin.
    “No, my prince.”
    “That’s good, anyway,” muttered Ki.
    Tobin turned reluctantly to Bisir. “I suppose you’d better take your master the news.”
    The young man bowed in the saddle and rode on ahead without a word.
    The branches of the ancient, winter-bare elms lining the avenue formed a netted tunnel over them as they cantered on.
    Tobin paused by the Royal Tomb and saluted the remains of his parents, which lay in the catacombs below. Through the age-blackened wooden pillars that supported the flat tile roof, Tobin could see the light of the altar fire flickering over the faces of the queens’ effigies.
    “Do you want to go in?” Tharin asked.
    Tobin shook his head and rode on.
    The New Palace gardens were a palette of grey and black. Lights twinkled from windows everywhere in the maze of fine houses that crowned Ero’s high hill, like a flock of fireflies in winter.
    At the Old Palace Iya went on with Laris and the others to quarters at the villa that had been Ariani’s. Tharin stayed with the boys and accompanied them into the Companions’ wing. Uncertain of his welcome, Tobin was glad of his company and Ki’s as they made their way along the faded corridors.
    T he messroom was empty but sounds of merriment led them on to Korin’s feasting chamber. The double doors stood open and light and music spilled out to greet the prodigals. Hundreds of lamps lit the room and the chamber felt stifling after the day’s cold ride.
    Korin and the other noble Companions sat at the high table, accompanied by a few select friends and favorite girls. The squires were busy serving. Garol stood ready with his wine pitcher behind Korin’s chair and Tanil was busy carving on his left. The only person who seemed to be missing from the usual gathering was Swordmaster Porion. He was nowhere to be seen. As much as Tobin liked the gruff old veteran, he was in no hurry to hear what the man had to say about his absence from training.
    Scores of guests of every age sat at two long tables below. Looking around, Tobin saw the usual collection of entertainers, as well. At the moment, a company of Mycenian acrobats were throwing each other into the air.
    Korin hadn’t noticed their arrival. Aliya was sitting on his lap, laughing and blushing over something he was whispering in her ear as he played with one of her braids. As Tobin approached the table, he saw with little surprise that his cousin was flushed with wine, despite the early hour.
    Near the end of the table, Tobin’s friends Nikides andLutha were talking with dark-haired Lady Una, though they looked more earnest than flirtatious.
    Lutha was the first to notice them. His narrow face lit up as he elbowed Nikides, and shouted, “Look, Prince Korin, your wayward cousin is home at last!”
    “Come here, coz!” Korin exclaimed, throwing his arms wide. “And you, too, Ki. So you finally dug yourselves out, did you? We’ve missed you. And missed your name day, as well.”
    “I’ve had my old seat