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."
Naitachal gave him a sharp look, and Paavo winced.
"I seek an audience with the King. To whom may I speak to arrange this?"
"I am only a servant," Paavo said, apologetically. "I doubt that I would be very effective in arranging this."
You didn't have these problems yesterday, when you took us directly to the King. The second letter, the one from King Reynard to Archenomen, remained in his breast pocket It would be more than enough of a reason to justify an audience-on-demand, but he had already decided to hand deliver the letter to the King, per instructions. It may . . . disappear, otherwise, he mused.
The elf waited a moment, giving Paavo a chance to continue, to answer the second half of his question.
Paavo offered a blank but polite smile, lacking in com- prehension, as if Naitachal had addressed him in a language he didn't understand.
Naitachal tried again. "Well then. Could you direct me to someone, perhaps on the Kings staff, who could arrange what you cannot?"
Paavo seemed distressed, as he struggled to answer the question. Or -- not answer the question. "That is a good question, Ambassador. Let's see, who is not on vacation this month. ..." The servant scratched his chin and looked thoughtful.
"Perhaps it would save you the trouble by taking me directly to the King? Yesterday, this didn't seem to be a problem," Naitachal replied pointedly.
At this suggestion, Paavo adamantly shook his head.
"I am simply not of a high enough rank, you see. If I could..."
Indeed. Well, there is no point in forcing the issue.
Or reminding him that yesterday his rank was high enough for him to advise the King. He'll only make some other excuse -- or tell me that the person I saw was his twin brother.... "Then please tell me, who is of a high enough rank," Naitachal said, his patience slipping.
"This may take some time," Paavo replied. "Have you broken your fast yet this morning?"
Naitachal stared at him, strongly tempted to stran- gle the man. What in the seven hells is going on here?
What has changed between last night and tonight?
And why is this fool blocking my access to the King?
"No. I. Have. Not. Eaten," Naitachal said, slowly and deliberately pronouncing each word. "I spoke with the King last night, and although dinner was not the appropriate time or place to discuss matters of our two kingdoms, he did indicate that he wanted to meet with me today. Could we please arrange this? Today, please."
"Did you make an appointment?" Paavo asked meekly.
Naitachal paused, wondering if he should lie. "No.
None seemed necessary."
Paavo frowned. "Perhaps if you could go to the great hall, we can arrange a meal for you, and I will do what I can to arrange your meeting. I recall tha King designated a member of his staff as your liaison."
Then why didn't you tell me that in the first place? he seethed, but kept the biting words to himself. And kept from biting Paavo.
"Very well," Naitachal said, and before turning towards the dining hall, added, with heavy i "Thank you, land sir, for all your -- help."
As he walked away, he cursed himself for forget- ting to ask him who exactly this someone was, and what his position was on the staff. But on the other hand, was he really in a mood to deal with whatever sidestepping dialog Paavo would use to avoid answering him directly? With time, and with a great deal of luck, I might even meet this person before spring.