Pikhalas was quiet for a long time, and finally his expression changed as the mask dropped. Now he glared at Naitachal with unconcealed contempt.
When he spoke, his voice held a world of disdain. "We have an expression in Suinomen, which would seem appropriate now. Loosely translated to your barbaric tongue, it says, 'Guests should remember that they are guests.' If you are a patient man, Ambassador, show us by your actions, and not your empty words. I will dis- cuss this with the King. Tomorrow I might be able to arrange something, but I promise nothing. If this is in- sufficient to your rather trying demands, I suggest that you take to the road, and return to that home from which you came."
Pikhalas turned brusquely, and tossed a final saluta- tion over his shoulder, as Naitachal stared at him.
"Good day, Ambassador."
He stamped off to whatever "important business"
Paavo had interrupted, his stiff gait and posture telling the world how annoyed he was at having to deal with the Dark Elf.
Naitachal gazed after him, suppressing the urge to work the tiny magic needed to make him trip and fall on his nose.
When he had left, the boot thumping fading into the distance, Naitachal stood. Summoning as much serenity as he could, which wasn't much but enough to mask his own hot feelings, he left the dining hall with a little more composure and a lot less noise than Pikha- las.
If I'm cautious, perhaps I can do a bit of investiga- tive work in places they would rather not see me, before they declare such sites off limits. It seems to be all I can do.
Demon-dogs! Even Alaire is accomplishing more than I!
Chapter Alaire set out to find Prince Kainemonen, pausing to change into something simple but clean. Something black, that wouldn't blind him or give him a head- ache. I doubt he'll be feeling his very best today. The clothes he chose were more appropriate for night- crawling, and he could only pray they wouldn't be giving Kai any ideas about another round of tavern- hopping. An upper servant or lesser noble might wear the black hose, tunic and small cape, in another land.
His alertness had slipped once or twice the previous evening, when he was out with Kai, but after hearing about Naitachal's visitor his senses were keyed to a high pitch. And although it might seem logical to sus- pect the Crown Prince -- who, after all, had dr Naitachal's companion off, leaving him alone -- in his gut he knew that Kai wasn't responsible for the attack, or even knew anything abo There simply wasn't a devious bone in Kai's body.
Foolish, perhaps, but not devious.
He puzzled over how much to tell Kai about his own life. Most of his background was secret in Sumo- men and Althea, for benefit of his disguise. If I'm going to get through to him I've probably got to level with him completely -- well, almost. I'll have to do it without mentioning my Bardic Gift. To let him I'm as well-born as he is as well may open some doors.
Or alienate him completely.
It was a chance he had to take. Satisfied he had struck the proper balance in his attire, so he wouldn't look like a degraded peon or a well-appointed noble, the land Kai appeared to dislike the most, he began looking randomly through the halls for a servant to take him to Kai.
In retrospect, he decided it was a good idea after all not to mention the tavern fight to Naitachal, although the elf must certainly have seen the signs all over him.
And that's all it was, at The Dead Dragon Inn. A sim- ple fight, in a rough part of town. It had nothing to do with the attempt on Naitachal's life. So, no need to tell him anything about it. If he thought I was going to be walking into trouble, he wouldn't be suggesting an alli- ance with Kai.
While Naitachal saw that ingratiating himself with the lad would provide practical information for their mission, Alaire wanted it to be more than that. Kai needs a real friend here. One day the Watch might not come in time to break up whatever fight he's in. If nothing else, he needs people along to save whoever he's fighting! One day he may kill someone, quite by acciden Alaire frowned as something else occurred to him.
What if that's what someone wants?
It was easy to see a conspiracy behind every one of the closed doors he passed, in this early stage of the game. The reality of it was he was no closer to the real conspiracy than he was last night -- unless Sir Jehan was at the middle of it.
He found Paavo dusting shelves in one of the grand hallways. When he turned and saw Alaire, his distaste was evident.
"You," he said softly. "Is there somewhere else you could be right now?"
Alaire bristled at the attitude, but restrained himself. They should treat me like this. I am a foolish assistant, nothing more. A hanger-on. "Why, yes, as a matter of fact. Could you show me P Kainemonen's chambers?"
The elder servant's eyebrows lifted ever so subtly.
"Why would anyone want to see him? Particularly at this hour. It's daylight, after all."
Alaire thought he did a credible job of looking stu- pid. "Why? I wanted to thank him, in person, for showing me such an entertaining evening. Is he not receiving today?"
"That is not the point," Paavo sniffed. "He's always receiving, but nobody wants to see him." He sighed, apparently resigned to the task. "Come this way. If you want to waste your time with that drunken child, you are more than welcome. At least you'll be out of my way."
An odd way to talk about his Crown Prince. As if he didn't matter. As if -- he never will take the throne....
While Paavo led him down another hallway, this one painted on both sides with primitive woodland scenes, Alaire wondered why even a mere servant in this castle would treat the Prince with such con -- even if he was a drunk. Alaire had known a few ser- vants back at home who had such familiarity with the royal family, but they were never as presumptuous as this man.
Take notes. File away for later. We configure Paavo out some other time.
He'd expected a more regal setting for the Prince, but the door they stopped at was no more suggestive of royalty than his own front door in Fenrich.
Paavo waved at the door with an air of one who has done more than his duty. "You may let yourself in. I have other, more important things to do today."
With that Paavo turned and walked swiftly away, leaving behind a palpable cloud of petulance.
Shrugging, Alaire opened the door, and strode into a darkened room unannounced. The room had no windows, or wind hole, and reeked of (what else) stale wine and ale. It was now high noon, and Kai had evi- dently decided to sleep in, under cover of artificial darkness.
"Kai?" Alaire ventured, as his eyes adjusted to the dimness. "Its Alaire. Are you awake?"
Silly question, he thought, closing the door behind him. He did this reluctantly, because there was no other source of light. But he needed privacy to discuss the things he wanted to, and an open door would only attract idle ears, possibly Paavo's. The room, he discov- ered, had windows after all, but something solid and black was covering them. Thin lines of light made an outline, giving him enough light to avoid bumping into the larger pieces of furniture.
He became aware of a large canopied bed shoved into a corner of the room at an odd angle. Heavy vel- vet curtains cut off his view. Presumably, it was even darker in the bed than in the rest of the room.