The Bone Doll's Twin by Lynn Flewelling Read Free Book Online

eyebrow in surprise. “Arkoniel? What are you doing here? Last I knew, neither you nor that mistress of yours practices midwifery.”
    “No, my king. I was guesting here tonight and have been making myself useful.” Arkoniel was suddenly aware of the other wizard’s steady gaze. Niryn’s bright brown eyes protruded a bit, giving him a perpetually surprised air that the younger wizard found unsettling. He carefully veiled his mind, praying he was strong enough to keep Niryn from his thoughts without the other man suspecting.
    “Your honored sister’s labor is a difficult one, I fear, but she will be delivered soon,” he continued, then wished he hadn’t. The king had attended the births of all his own children. If Erius decided to go upstairs, there was nothing he could do, short of magic, to prevent it. And with Niryn here, even that risky avenue was closed to him.
    Perhaps Illior had heeded his prayer after all, for Erius shrugged agreeably and sat down at a gaming table by thehearth. “How’s your skill with the stones?” he asked, waving Arkoniel to the other chair. “These birthings generally take longer than you’d expect, especially the first. We may as well pass the time pleasantly.”
    Hoping his relief was not too obvious, Arkoniel sent Mynir off for wine and sweets, then settled down to losing as best he could.
    Niryn sat beside them, pretending to observe the play, but Arkoniel still felt the pressure of his regard. Sweat prickled under his arms and down his back. What did the man want? Did he know something?
    He nearly dropped the gaming stones when Niryn suddenly asked, “Do you dream, young man?”
    “No, my lord,” Arkoniel replied. “Or if I do, I don’t recall them when I wake up.”
    This was true enough; he seldom dreamed in the normal sense, and foreknowing dreams had so far proven to be outside his ken. He waited for Niryn to pursue the question, but he only sat back and stroked the tips of his forked beard, looking bored.
    Arkoniel was in the midst of his third game of Geese and Squares when Nari came downstairs.
    “Duke Rhius sends his regards, Your Majesty,” she said, curtsying low. “He asks if you would like your new nephew brought down to view?”
    “Nonsense!” Erius exclaimed, setting the stones aside. “Tell your master his brother is happy to come to him.”
    Again, Arkoniel had an uneasy sense that the king meant more than he said.
    That sense grew stronger when Niryn and the priest accompanied them upstairs. Nari caught Arkoniel’s eye as they followed and gave him a quick nod; Iya and Lhel must already be safely away. Entering Ariani’s room, Arkoniel could sense no trace of magic, Orëska or otherwise.
    Duke Rhius stood on the far side of the bed, holding his wife’s hand. The princess was still blessedly asleep, nodoubt well drugged. With her black hair combed back smoothly and a hectic spot of color high on each cheek, she looked like one of her own dolls.
    Rhius lifted the swaddled child from the bed and brought it to the king. He’d recovered enough to act his part with dignity.
    “Your nephew, my liege,” he said, placing the infant in Erius’ arms. “With your leave, he shall be named Tobin Erius Akandor, in honor of your father’s line.”
    “A son, Rhius!” Erius undid the swaddling with a gentle, practiced hand.
    Arkoniel held his breath and blanked his mind as Niryn and the priest extended their hands over the sleeping child. Neither appeared to notice anything amiss; Lhel’s magic had covered all trace of the abomination she’d wrought on the little body. And who would think to look for hill witch magic in the chamber of the king’s own sister?
    “A fine boy, Rhius, to bear such a name,” Erius said. The birthmark caught his eye. “And look at the favor mark he bears. On his left arm, too. Niryn, you know how to read such things. What does this one mean?”
    “Wisdom, Your Majesty,” the wizard told him. “A most favorable trait in your