Not the impression I meant to convey, Alaire thought, although this new level of trust promised to be very useful.
At the next tavern, Kai got down to some serious drinking.
This place had no sign, no real front door. To find the tavern, they had left the main street, to a darker, more shadowy alley, through which Alaire walked clutching the hilt of his sword.
"Is this really a place we need to go?" Alaire had whispered, as Kai led him into the darkness. He found it difficult to envision the tavern that would be in this end of the district. Twice they stepped over motionless forms lying across their path, one of whom had lost his belt and whatever had hung on it, his cloak, and any- thing that had been in his pockets, which hung inside out. The other was probably passed out drunk.
Kai seemed more in his element here than at the previous two places. They entered the establishment through an entrance practically invisible from the alley, which was just as well. If you didn't know where the place was, you probably didn't belong there. The tavern keeper knew him by name, greeting him simply as Kai, not "sir," or "your highness." Do they even know he's a prince? Alaire wondered. But then, they didn't use titles at the other taverns. And Sir Jehan certainly knew Kai was the Crown Prince.
It's almost as if he is ashamed of the title, Alaire con- sidered, as they settled down into a semi-private booth, this one with blood stains on the wall. Kai didn't appear to notice. He might have been responsi- ble for them being there in the first place.
"So, what'll it be this time?" Kai asked enthusiasti- cally.
Alaire had managed to drink only four glasses of wine or ale that evening, in spite of the pressure to drink much, much more. He even managed to act a little drunk, to blend in with the masses. But his stom- ach, and his head, were both sending warning signals to him. If he drank much more, he would get drunk, or worse, and be completely useless in a fight. Which, in this area of town, seemed highly likely.
"Oh, whatever you're drinking," Alaire said, and Kai ordered up three large steins of some foul looking brew called "dogbolter." Two were for Kai. On Alaire's. When he looked down, he saw that twigs were floating around in it. Heaven only knew what else was in it.
"Tasty," Alaire said, without trying it. If I dump this on the floor, he won't even notice. The floor is already so sticky anyway that another quart of muck won't matter.
Alaire made ready to anoint the floor with his gift from Kai when a disturbance at the door distracted him.
The Watch. Again. Alaire saw the four uniformed men before Kai did; the boy's powers of observation had dwindled to next to nothing. They were halfway across the bar before the Prince noticed them, turned pale, and ducked behind both of his steins, peering furtively between them.
"They're not after us," Alaire whispered, not sure if this was even true.
The four uniformed men turned towards the rear of the tavern. In the shadows Alaire could make out a terrified middle-aged man and an equally terrified older one, sitting at a small table at the very back.
Kai exhaled loudly. "Glad it wasn't us," he said.
"Thought for sure they'd changed their minds and decided to take me in. Show me a 'lesson.'"
"Different group," Alaire observed. "Different uni- forms, too. They're all black, like the Commander's, instead of gray."
"Black uniforms?" Kai asked, and peered around the booth at the unpleasant scene developing behind him, apparently seeing the men clearly for the first time. "No. Not here."
"What?"
The barkeep went over, rattling something in their native tongue. It looked like he was trying to vouch for the two sitting at the table, but was having no luck.
Finally, the barkeep handed over several gold coins.
"They were going to take him in along with those two, for serving them," Kai informed him. "Gold is the best bribe of all, here."
"Why are they taking those people in?" Alaire asked, but Kai stared without answering. The uni- formed men took the two away, roughly shoving them towards the door. The moment they were gone, Kai returned his attention to the table, and his brew.
"Magicians," Kai snorted in contempt. "Unlicensed magicians. Damn fools don't ever learn!"
This is what Naitachal was talking about, Alaire thought, in sudden fear. Careful, now, don't want to pry too blatantly here. He noticed Kai fishing one of the twigs out of his brew. With a silly grin, he used it to stir his drink. But then again, as drunk as he is right now, is it going to matter? I'm his long-lost best friend, after all.