Page 53 of The Laws of Nature (Heirs of the Empire #3)

TOBI

T obi feels sweet and a little sleepy, pressed close to Harok’s chest, as Embox sways back through the forest.

The sky is heavy and soft snow begins to fall, flakes landing on Tobi’s thick cloak and in his hair. Despite the cool weather, Tobi hardly feels it, with Harok’s body hot as a furnace.

When Tobi sees a strange shape in the forest, he isn’t sure, for a moment, what he sees.

He straightens, sitting up on Embox’s back.

He looks again. The light is starting to fade and the trees are thick, but there is a shape.

A distinct shape against the trunk of a tree, only a few yards from the path where they ride.

“Irgorye,” Tobi hisses, “there’s someone watching us.”

Harok slows Embox from her gentle walk to a halt. He looks into the trees at Tobi’s direction. “It’s nothing, Suskara,” he says.

Zoran.

But Tobi can see it clearly now. Someone stands watching, leaning against a thick tree trunk. “I can see a man there,” Tobi says.

“Not a man.” Harok shakes his head as if this is an important distinction. “A banalil .”

Tobi frowns. He has never heard that word before. Is it some kind of forest creature? Another piece of Solwen folklore? “What is banalil ?”

“Criminal,” says Harok. “A man who must die for his crimes.”

“Oh,” Tobi looks again. Now he knows what he sees he can make out clearer details. The man is not leaning against the tree. His position is not comfortable ease. He is bound to it. And his head is a strange shape, covered with some kind of sacking.

“Solwen justice this way,” says Harok. “Those who have committed crimes for which they must die are tied to a tree and left for the wolves. So that the Triple God may decide their fate.”

Tobi shudders. “Wolves?”

“Yes. Or perhaps simply starvation and thirst if the wolves do not attack. It cannot be survived, but the forest will decide if death is quick or slow.”

“So he is alive? And left to die?”

Harok nods, curtly. “Sho. It is Solwen.”

“Who is he? Did you order this?”

“I have never ordered such a thing. It is not a tradition in Urynwud since my father decreed an end to it. Even Vahul did not bring back banalil. He preferred other cruelties. But the Solwen who live in other places in the forest still practice banalil justice.”

Tobi looks at the figure in the trees. “We can’t just leave him like that to die.”

“I do not know his crimes. I cannot interfere in the ways of Solwen who live outside Urynwud. I am their Irgo but these matters are for their individual leaders to decide.”

“Irgorye,” Tobi says quietly. “Could the Exceli have done this?”

“Perhaps,” says Harok. He clicks his tongue to set Embox walking again, declaring an end to the matter.

But Tobi is not done. He cannot leave a man to die like this. He moves fast, slithering out of Harok’s arms to drop off the moving Embox, landing steady, and racing into the trees as Harok bellows out, “Suskara!”

Tobi runs over to the tree. The figure tied to it is tall, but not as tall as a typical Solwen.

He wears a rough tunic of coarse fabric.

Clearly a garment meant for a condemned man.

Ropes hold him to the tree at waist, thighs and neck.

His wrists are pulled back and lashed to the ropes.

The sacking that covers his face is secured by the ropes at his neck.

There is something precise about the way he is bound.

As if this is a designated ritual, each rope in a particular place.

Tobi swallows. There are worse punishments in Azuria.

Tobi has seen terrible, elaborate, cruel things done in the Punishment Squares in Ceruleum and Attar, but there is something about the simplicity of this method of execution that makes Tobi’s belly turn over.

The man’s bare skin is grey and looks icy cold.

The snow is starting to fall more heavily and it settles on the ropes that bind him and the sack that covers his face.

He will not survive a night like this even if no beasts attack him.

Tobi reaches out and touches the sack. The man flinches, then grunts, only now realising someone is standing before him. “Hold on,” Tobi says in Ambolk.

He works his fingers under the ropes at the man’s neck until he can free the sack enough to pull it away. He does and the man is revealed. A bruised face. Another rope gags his mouth, threading between his teeth and tied tight around the tree trunk.

Tobi swallows in shock.

The man is Lymok.

“Replace the sack, Suskara,” Harok says behind Tobi, placing a firm hand on Tobi’s waist.

Tobi looks back at Harok and shakes his head. “We can’t leave him here.”

Harok looks at Tobi then at Lymok who is staring at them both in horror. He moans something into the rope gag. “The sack,” Harok says, plucking it from Tobi’s fingers.

Lymok makes another desperate sound. He jerks in the ropes that hold him, as Harok moves to replace the sack over Lymok’s head.

Tobi puts a hand on Harok’s wrist. “The Exceli have done this.”

“Yes,” says Harok. “Perhaps he turned traitor on them too.”

“He is your blood,” Tobi says. “And if the Exceli have done this to him perhaps he is loyal to you.”

At this, Lymok nods frantically, grunting into the gag.

“Have you forgotten,” Harok says, “what he did to you?”

Tobi turns and looks up at Harok. “Perhaps there is more to this than we know. We ought to take him back to Urynwud, a prisoner. He will have information about the Exceli and their plans.”

And about Azuria, Tobi thinks. About the Rose Court and why they instructed Lymok to ensure Tobi never escaped the Amber Forest.

Harok looks at Tobi with a soft smile. “You are truly an Azurian,” he says.

“You think Azurians are merciful? ”

“I think they are…,” Harok says, ending his statement with an Ambolk word Tobi does not understand.

“I don’t know that word.”

“Azurians do not use simple justice. They use tricks and schemes.”

“Oh. Yes. Perhaps. But this is no trick. This is wise. And you said that banalil was meant to let the forest decide the prisoners fate. Perhaps the forest sent us to Lymok. To save him. Let us take him back to Urynwud. We can find out what really happened here.” He moves a little closer to Harok.

“And if you are not satisfied, you can put him on trial. You are Irgo. Surely he should face your justice, not the Exceli’s? ”

Again, Lymok makes a grunting noise. Tobi cannot tell if he approves of this idea or not.

Harok purses his lips for a moment. He gives Lymok a long look. Tobi thinks that what Harok would most like to do is to use his sword to take Lymok’s head. But when he does draw his sword, it is to slice through the ropes holding Lymok to the tree.

Harok insists that the rope gagging Lymok is not removed. Tobi thinks it would be better to give Lymok some water and bread, but he knows he has won quite a victory persuading Harok to release Lymok from the tree and thinks better of asking for more.

He says nothing as Harok reties some of the rope around Lymok’s wrists and hitches him to Embox’s saddle, so he will be led along beside them for the rest of the journey back to Urynwud.

As Harok sets Embox walking, Tobi watches Lymok, stumbling awkwardly beside them, clearly weakened from however long he had been left before they found him.

More than once, Tobi insists Harok slows to stop Lymok from falling and being dragged along the forest floor.

And he is sure that if he had said nothing, Harok would simply have allowed Lymok to be gravely injured on the journey.

When they finally arrive at Urynwud, Lymok is staggering like a drunken man, Harok orders the attendants who rush to assist him to fetch four guards to take Lymok to the dungeons. “And I want warriors on his door.” Harok barks. “Not dungeon guards. A dozen warriors.”

Harok turns to look at Lymok. Lymok stares back at him. Harok reaches out and removes the rope that stops Lymok’s mouth. Lymok spits it out, spluttering. But he still says nothing for a few moments. When he does speak, his voice is scratchy for want of water, “It’s good to be home, Irgo.”

This seems to enrage Harok. As two guards appear and take hold of Lymok’s arms, Harok slaps Lymok in the face.

It’s a hit with an open palm, but hard. Lymok gasps, swaying back in the arms of the guards.

“I will have you flogged at dawn,” Harok snaps.

“And then I will decide if you live or die. It may be a different decision from the last time.”

Tobi comes to stand beside Harok. “May I speak with him?” Tobi says, as Lymok is led away.

“On the morrow,” Harok says, turning to give Tobi a brief kiss.

“Tonight there will be a feast to mark my return to the throne of Urynwud, healed and whole. We can deal with Lymok when I have done all I mean to do this day.” He gives Tobi a lustful look.

A look that suggests there is more to Harok’s plans for Tobi than this simple day in the forest.

Tobi wonders what other pleasures the night will hold.

Tobi finds Lymok far from his thoughts as he is taken to his chambers to prepare for the feast. He is bathed and shaved and oiled and dressed in one of the gossamer thin alits Harok likes him to wear for special occasions.

His hair has grown longer in the time he has spent at Urynwud, although not as long as most male Solwen wear it, but long enough for Tobi to have the sides shorn short by his body servants in the Solwen style.

When it is done, one of the servants shows Tobi a dish containing a thick black paste.

He nods eagerly and is given a triple stripe of dark paint over his nose and cheekbones.

It’s cold and feels strange. Thick and sticky.

Nothing like the paint he used to use on his face when he performed.

He must look so Solwen. He wishes he had a silvered glass to see it.