Alaire waited, but the elf did not answer.
"Well?" Alaire asked.
"Older than you think," he said, "and not as old as the hills or the trees." That seemed to be the end of that.
The boy shrugged, deciding to drop that particular line of questioning, but his curiosity still burned. Nai- tachal served King Amber. From what Father told me, he was quite the hero. He mentioned that he was involved with doing away with Carlotta. He shivered whenever he thought of the evil princess who had tried to seize the throne by kidnapping the rightful heir, Prince Amber. The story had real meaning in his family. His descent from Amber gave it more impact than "just a tale." This particular bedtime story had places where Father would say, "And then Amber used to say..." or "Gawaine told me that Kevin ..."
Carlotta failed, and then vanished. Years later she reappeared and hatched a plot involving Count Vol- mar and a book of Bardic spells. Gawaine's own teacher, Kevin, had searched for the book in Volmar's library, found it, and used it to defeat her.
That was all Alaire knew about the incident. The royal family seldom discussed it, even among relatives, and kept the details to themselves. Alaire knew there was some kind of scandal the royal family wanted to keep hushed up, but he didn't know the details.
Perhaps Naitachal knows.
"I feel more comfortable with the sword now, Mas- ter Naitachal," Alaire ventured. "It's becoming a part of me, as you said it would, I'm sorry I came to you with such holes in my education. My brother Grant promised me training, but he became so involved with his own he must have forgotten."
Naitachal ignored him. Alaire knew from experi- ence, however, that he wasn't missing anything.
Alaire scratched his head a little; his hair was sweat-damp and his scalp itched. "Still, I never expected weapons training when Father sent me here. Is this the kind of fighting you used when you defeated Carlotta?"
At the mention of the evil princess, Naitachal turned slowly. The look he gave Alaire turned the boy's spine to ice. His skin crawled uncomfortably, as if it were trying to slither off his body. Gods, I hope that wasn't the wrong thing to say, he thought. He could kill me with one look, if he dared.
"Who said we defeated Carlotta?" Naitachal replied casually.
The words stunned Alaire. What is he trying to say this time? "Are you speaking in riddles to confuse me?" Alaire asked, finally. "Or are you just posing questions to make me think?"
Naitachal replaced the ladle and dropped the bucket back into the well, then gave Alaire an appraising look. "They never told you the entire story, did they?"
Alaire perked up at the prospect of hearing some secrets from his family's past. They never went into much detail when I was around; all I ever got was the bedtime story, with the moral "be good, or Carlotta will carry you off."
Sometimes when he walked into his father's study, and his mother and Grant and Drake were talking, he would overhear something about Carlotta. As soon as they saw him, everyone got really quiet.
He hadn't paid as much attention to his own fam- ily's past as he might have. There was all the scope of history to learn, a vast mine to delve in for gems that could become songs. It would have seemed presump- tuous to use his family as a basis for balladry. Still, the mysterious story of Carlotta occasionally nagged at him. Even if he was not likely to become king, he still wondered what had happened back then, and why they were keeping it from him.
"No," he said quickly. "No one ever did. The whole family has been rather evasive about Carlotta."
'Then perhaps I should keep quiet as well,"
Dark Elf replied slyly.
"Not that they were intentionally keeping it a secret from me," he quickly supplied. "I'm sure they just never, well, had the time. Or the chance, I mean, there are some things you just don't discuss with chil- dren. I've been here what, eight years now?"
"Nine," Naitachal said. "And you were never curi- ous about it before."
"I'm nineteen now. I'm not a child." Alaire withered under Naitachal's answering look, which seemed to say, oh, are you not, really?
His Master shrugged. "The royal family never swore me to secrecy on everything. I insisted on a free rein in your upbringing, and got it. What would you like to know?"
"Details. Like, did you use this kind of swordsman- ship," he said, pointing towards the rack of swords, practice and the lethal, metal kind. "Or something a little more esoteric?"