Kai took a long drink from the skin, licked his lips loudly and burped defiantly. "It doesn't matter. What's the point, after all? I can't please him, so I might as well enjoy myself!"
Alaire shrugged. I chipped away some of the ice, at least. For a little while, anyway. All this I'm seeing now, this drunken fool of child, is his only defense against himself and whatever or whoever he views as his enemy.
"Well?" Kai asked. "You game?"
Alaire shrugged. "For what?"
"Another round of enjoyment, what else. After all, you're useless too!"
He didn't really want to give in, and go through another drunken evening, this one beginning much earlier, at noon. But he remembered his promi Naitachal. Be a friend to Kai, and find out as much as he can.
Well, Kai certainly needed a friend. And this was something he felt he could become, given time.
Alaire did not think he would see much useful infor- mation out of Kai.
Alaire half expected to find Kai leading them back to the tavern district; much to his surprise, how Kai took him out for a short walk on the palace grounds. The day was unseasonably warm, so they needed no coats. Alaire had no idea of their destina- tion, however, until they reached the vineyards. These grapes were, he soon learned, Kai's pride and joy.
"I had this strain planted myself," Kai said proudly, before the rows of brown, dormant vines. Even with- out the spring foliage, it was obvious that these were particularly robust and healthy vines. "Over there is the winery," Kai said, pointing to a rough rock building up against the palace wall. Alaire sighed. It made per- fect sense that the Prince had his own private wine-making operation, given the amount the lad con- "Are we going there today?" Alaire asked. He'd wanted to grab a bite to eat, but Kai didn't seem to care about food. The hunger pains had subsided somewhat on their own, but Alaire knew that wouldn't last.
"Not the winery. I have something else planned for us."
Kai led him through an overgrown garden, brown with winter. Alaire appreciated how these people relied on natural growth to give form to their gardens.
In Althea the gardeners planted and pruned and trimmed the palace garden into a sterile facsimile of neatness, which required constant upkeep, even in the winter. He hoped to see this place in the spring, and perhaps bring some of these ideas back home.
They came upon a large wooden building that Alaire no clues to what it contained -- until they entered it.
Good heavens! he thought, gazing about at the racks of weapons, the open floor. This is a fighting- practice arena!
It made sense to have sword practice indoors this far north; what he found inside was clearly a training area with a dirt floor. On the wall hung several weap- ons; both of the wooden practice variety and the real, lethal thing. He recognized fifteen distinct species of sword, several spears, a cabinet of different knives.
The place smelled of leather, sawdust and sweat. And someone was waiting for them.
"Young Kainemonen," a big, burly man growled.
"You're late."
"I apologize, Captain Lyam," Kai said solemnly.
"I've brought a friend. A... diplomat from Althea."
Captain Lyam ignored the introduction. The man was huge, easily as tall as Alaire's father, and it was obvious that all his immense weight was muscle and sinew. His huge boots looked like something Alaire could row across a lake, with room for fishing gear. His scarred face looked like someone had ripped it apart and clumsily reassembled it. One eye was slightly higher than the other. He wore no insignia on the loose shirt or the dark breeches, but his stance, solid as a boulder and unmoving, commanded all the authority that seemed needed. Kai withered, and looked away.
The Captain sniffed the air. "As I thought. Drinking already, are we?"
Kai looked to deny this, but instead nodded meekly.
"Yes, sir," he squeaked. "I'm sorry."