Lynn Flewelling - Hidden Warrior (Tamir Trilogy, Book 2)

HIDDEN WARRIOR - THE TAMIR TRILOGY: BOOK 2 - LYNN FLEWELLING [version history] A TRICK OF MAGIC, A TWIST OF FATE As the orphaned nephew of the King, trusted companion to his cousin, and second heir to the throne of Skala, Prince Tobin's future is clear. But not as clear as the spring in which a hill witch shows him his true faceand his secret destiny.... Now Tobin carries a burden he cannot share with even his closest friend, Ki, his squire. He is to rulenot as he is but as he was born: a woman. Given the shape of a boy by dark magic, Tobin is the last hope of the people of lllior - those who desperately seek a return to the old ways, when Skala was ruled by a line of warrior queens. They still believe that only a woman can lift the war, famine, and pestilence that have run rampant through the land since the king usurped his half sister's throne.

It is these outlaw wizards and witches who protect Tobinand it is for them that Tobin must accept his fate. With the unsuspecting yet fiercely loyal Ki at his side, Tobin must turn traitor against the only blood ties he has left. He must lift the masks of Skala's rulers to show their true colors-before he can reveal the power of the woman within himself.... Visit Bantam's website at www.bantamdell.com. Also by Lynn Flewelling LUCK IN THE SHADOWS STALKING DARKNESS TRAITOR'S MOON AND THE BONE DOLL'S TWIN Hidden Warrior Lynn Flewelling BANTAM BOOKS New York Toronto London Sydney Auckland HIDDEN WARRIOR A Bantam Spectra Book / July 2003 Published by Bantam Dell A Division of Random House, Inc. New York , New York All rights reserved Copyright 2003 by Lynn Flewelling Cover art copyright 2003 by John Jude Palencar No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.

For information address: Bantam Books, New York , New York . If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this "stripped book." Bantam Books, the rooster colophon, Spectra, and the portrayal of a boxed "s" are trademarks of Random House, Inc. ISBN 0-553-58342-5 Manufactured in the United States of America Published simultaneously in Canada OPM 10 987654321 CONTENTS World Map Skala Map The Skalan Year PART I 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 PART II 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 PART III 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 PART IV 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 For my father Acknowledgements Thanks, as always, to Doug, Matt, Tim, Thelma, Win and Fran for their continuing love and patience. To Lucienne Diver and Anne Groell, the best agent and editor a writer could wish for. To Nancy Jeffers, Laurie "Eirual" Beal, Pat York, Thelma White, and Doug Flewelling for reading, commenting, and urging me on.

To Helen Brown and the good folks on the Flewelling newsgroup at Yahoo, for knowing my work better than I do. To Ron Gefaller, for getting the kinks out. To Horacio C. and Barbara R.they know why. To all my friends on SFF.NET, for being there, in particular to Doranna Durgin and Jennifer Roberson for that last minute horse-related advice; any errors are mine for not asking. 1.Sarisin: Calving 2.Dostin: Hedges and ditches seen to. 1.Sarisin: Calving 2.Dostin: Hedges and ditches seen to.

Peas and beans sown for cattle food. 3.Klesin: Sowing of oats, wheat, barley (for malting), rye. Beginning of fishing season. Open water sailing resumes. II.Vernal EquinoxFestival of the Flowers in Mycena. 4.Lithion: Butter and cheese making (sheeps milk pref.) Hemp and flax sown. 5.Nythin: Fallow ground ploughed. 6.Gorathin: Corn weeded. 6.Gorathin: Corn weeded.

Sheep washed and sheared. III.Summer Solstice 7.Shemin: Beginning of the monthhay mowing. End and into Lenthingrain harvest in full swing. 8.Lenthin: Grain harvest. 9.Rhythin: Harvest brought in. Fields plowed and planted with winter wheat or rye.

IV.Harvest Homefinish of harvest, time of thankfulness. 10.Erasin-. Pigs turned out into the woods to forage for acorns and beechnuts. 11.Kemmin: More plowing for spring. Oxen and other meat animals slaughtered and cured. End of the fishing season.

Storms make open water sailing dangerous. 12.Cinrin: Indoor work, including threshing. Hidden Warrior PART I I ran away from Ero a frightened boy and returned knowing that I was a girl in a borrowed skin. Brother's skin. After Lhel showed me the bits of bone inside my mother's old cloth doll, and a glimpse of my true face, I wore my body like a mask. My true form stayed hidden beneath a thin veil of flesh.

What happened after that has never been clear in my mind. I remember reaching Lhel's camp. I remember looking into her spring with Arkoniel and seeing that frightened girl looking back at us. When I woke, feverish and aching, in my own room at the keep, I remembered only the tug of her silver needle in my skin and a few scattered fragments of a dream. But I was glad still to have a boy's shape. For a long time after I was grateful.

Yet even then, when I was so young and unwilling to grasp the truth, I saw Brother's face looking back at me from my mirror. Only my eyes were my own and the wine-colored birthmark on my arm. By those I held the memory of the true face Lhel had shown me, reflected in the gently roiling surface of the spring the face that I could not yet accept or reveal. It was with this borrowed face that I would first greet the man who'd unwittingly determined my fate and Brother's, Ki's, even Arkoniel's, long before any of us were born. Chapter 1 Still caught at the edge of dark dreams, Tobin slowly became aware of the smell of beef broth and a soft, indistinct flow of voices nearby. They cut through the darkness like a beacon, drawing him awake.

That was Nari's voice. What was his nurse doing in Ero? Tobin opened his eyes and saw with a mix of relief and confusion that he was in his old room at the keep. A brazier stood near the open window, casting a pattern of red light through its pierced brass lid. The little night lamp cast a brighter glow, making shadows dance around the rafters. The bed linens and his nightshirt smelled of lavender and fresh air. The door was closed, but he could still hear Nari talking quietly to someone outside.

Sleep-fuddled, he let his gaze wander around the room, content for the moment just to be home. A few of his wax sculptures stood on the windowsill, and the wooden practice swords leaned in the corner by the door. The spiders had been busy among the ceiling beams; cobwebs large and fine as a lady's veil stirred gently in a current of air. A bowl was on the table beside his bed, with a horn spoon laid out ready beside it. It was the spoon Nari had always fed him with when he was sick. Am I sick? Had Ero been nothing but a fever dream? he wondered drowsily.

And his father's death, and his mother's, too? He ached a little, and the middle of his chest hurt, but he felt more hungry than ill. As he reached for the bowl, he caught sight of something that shattered his sleepy fantasies. The ugly old rag doll lay in plain view on the clothes chest across the room. Even from here, he could make out the fresh white thread stitching up the doll's dingy side. Tobin clutched at the comforter as fragments of images flooded back. The last thing he remembered clearly was lying in Lhel's oak tree house in the woods above the keep.

The witch had cut the doll open and shown him bits of infant bonesBrother's boneshidden in the stuffing. Hidden by his mother when she'd made the thing. Using a fragment of bone instead of skin, Lhel had bound Brother's soul to Tobin's again. Tobin reached into the neck of his nightshirt with trembling fingers and felt gingerly at the sore place on his chest. Yes, there it was; a narrow ridge of raised skin running down the center of his breastbone where Lhel had sewn him up like a torn shirt. He could feel the tiny ridges of the stitches, but no blood.