Alaire frowned, and pointed out the obvious. "But in that year, the war between our two kingdoms might come to pass, with you out of the way."
Naitachal waved the comment away. "Never mind that. We both managed to get through this night with- out mishap, and now we know the dangers. You must promise me that you will not use magic of any kind while you are here, unless it is to save your life, or someone else's."
"You don't need a promise from me. I'm not about to use the Gift in this place!"
Naitachal nodded, satisfied. "Is there anything I should know?"
Alaire's expression turned puzzled. "Well, thi Jehan. I met him in one of the taverns. Strange sort of fellow. He's an older man, middle aged, one of the nobles, and he seems to be the land of profligate someone like Kai would turn into after a few years. Not sure what his rank is. Kai is very fond of him, and I'm not sure why. It might be because he is the only noble from the court who will have anything to do with him. But there's something suspicious about him; I got the feeling that everything he does is a calculated pose."
Interesting. "You couldn't be a little more specific?
Alaire shook his head. "Not right now, no. Just a feeling, a hunch. He's manipulating Kai somehow.
And also there's this Captain of the Guard, another friend. I didn't see him out there last night, but from the way Kai spoke of him, he's another 'friend' i Suinomen Court."
Very interesting. "We must look into this. It could be important, or it could be nothing. Meanwhile, it looks like Kai is likely to be our best source of infor- mation."
"I have to agree," Alaire replied. "What I need to find out is how I stand with him when he's not drink- ing. Could be a world of difference there."
Naitachal regarded the sun, peeking obtrusively through the window, like an unwanted guest. "Looks like my day is beginning. You, my young friend, had better get some sleep. Which, I presume, is what Kai is doing now."
Alaire looked pained -- or perhaps, merely embar- rassed. "Oh, yes. Passed out in the carriage on the way over here. I delivered him to the servants, who seemed to be expecting him to be in that condition, and knew exactly what to do with him."
Naitachal motioned Alaire into his bed, and the young man barely took the time to strip off his boots and outer garments before tumbling in. On the whole, the Bard was proud of his apprentice. He was making wise judgments, thinking on his feet, and had a good grasp of the dangers of me situation. Now Naitachal's only concern was that he embroil himself too deeply, take too many risks. He was a clever young man -- but those who opposed them were likely to be just as clever.
Naitachal summoned the energy to rise to his feet, and started toward a washbasin filled with water. As he splashed water on his face, Alaire's muffled snores came out of the heap of bed cover- ings behind him.
Chapte As Naitachal emerged from his bed chamber, he sensed the castle awakening around him. Even though he had slept very little he didn't feel as tired as a human would have under the same circum- stances. In fact, he had only begun sleeping vaguely human hours in the last half century of his life, a sure sign of elven middle age. These humans rose slowly in comparison with elvenkind; he heard them, making muffled noises from the rooms and down the hallways, grumbling like bears waking from a winter-long hibernation. Given how much sleep they needed, and how short their lives were, he wondered how they were ever able to build a civilization.
In the dimmed hallway he stopped a young servant girl to ask where he could find the head ser Paavo, who apparently had been the only repre- sentative Archenomen assigned to them. She muttered something back in the native language and held her hands up in the universal gesture of I don't understand you and continued extinguishing the can- dles in the hallway. Interestingly, she did not seem to notice the missing candlestick that had stood b Naitachal's door.
The Dark Elf regarded the stony halls with equal parts of distaste and frustration. Not even a civilian guard to watch these halls, he thought, mildly annoyed. Althea afforded the highest degree of protection to diplomatic guests.
This could be carelessness, or it could be something else altogether. I was, after all, attacked in this very hall last night. Time to see the King, he thought, and tried to remember if King Archenomen had left direc- tions for their meeting. At dinner the King had seemed determined to watch the behavior of his sub- jects, rather than engage in any kind of conversation with a visiting diplomat.
It would be easy right now to dip into deep pools of paranoia and find a knife-wielding assassin, specially groomed by the Royal Archenomen family, in every shadow he passed. But a small part of him told him this would be assuming way too much. Easy, now. It's still too early to say who's responsible. There could be a valid reason why I have no guards -- perhaps they honestly feel I'm in no danger. There did seem to be a lack of concern, one way or the other, this serene morning.
Time for answers. The longer they lived in the shad- ows, the greater chance the forces of darkness had of gaining some advantage against them. And without the advantage of his magical tools, the sooner he and his apprentice learned the truth, the better. At the moment, knowledge, his diplomatic skill and his sword were the only weapons available to him.
Naitachal made his way to the main hallway, keep- ing in mind the route back to his room should he suddenly need refuge. Here servants were more numerous, and a group of them were picking up after what looked like a late night party. Paavo was among them, issuing orders, supervising the cleanup, but doing very little himself.
From across the hall, Naitachal tried to get the ser- vant's attention, but Paavo appeared to be ignoring him. In fact, the man quickly turned his back o Bard He's pretending he doesn't see me, the Dark Elf realized, and this small insight angered him far more than it should have.
He decided to press the issue, and walked to within a foot of the servant. Standing behind Paavo, Nai- tachal spoke again. "Perhaps you can help me," he said, loud enough for another servant, further away, to hear. Two other servants turned and gawked at Nai- tachals black countenance. Paavo did nothing.
No you don't my friend. "Excuse me," Naitachal said, stepping around the man, and standing right beside him. Patience now. Perhaps the man is hard of hearing, he reasoned, though the servant had shown no sign of deafness the day before.
Paavo, slowly, reluctantly, turned and faced Nai- tachal. "Oh, Ambassador. Forgive me, I didn't see you enter the hall."