That young hothead gives me a greater run than he thinks when we spar."
Alaire disagreed. What he had seen earlier that day did little to convince him this was true. He's belittling his own skill, perhaps so we will underestimate him.
Shrewd, but not necessarily suspicious. This doesn't mean he's an enemy; it means only he is not willing to divulge everything yet.
Naitachal gazed off into the distance, over Lyam's shoulder. "If Kai isn't after the throne, then who is?"
Lyam frowned. "I'm not certain that's what's afoot. I am not privy to all the information this palace con- tains."
Naitachal's tone was heavy with irony. "But surely, being the Captain of the Guard..."
... and Spymaster... Alaire added to himself.
"That does not guarantee my complete knowledge of royal affairs," Lyam replied firmly. "This may have been true at one time, but I suspect that I got this position because I was an outsider. That may sound odd to a foreigner, but the true power doesn't lie with anyone in a martial appointment."
Naitachal looked faintly surprised. "Where then, does it lie?"
It was Lyam's turn to snort. "With the magicians, of course. The palace has a monopoly on the powers of the mages, you see. Powerful wizards, who can level the walls of this palace in mere moments with their raised energies."
Naitachal chuckled. "Please. What I saw in the Hall didn't impress me."
Lyam simply smiled. "Who said they were i Hall? Only the amateurs operate there. When you first met the King, and his bodyguards -- and wi -- came charging out to defend him against an unex- pected elf, where did they come from?"
Naitachal considered this. "Of course. From behind the King's throne. They reside in the palace."
Lyam got to his feet, calling a halt to the discussion.
"We've spoken long enough here." He turn Alaire. "I would be grateful if your pupil would con- tinue to keep company with the young Prince. If I cannot keep him from folly, I would like to know there was someone at his back that I can trust"
He started toward the entrance, then paused and turned back for a moment. "Oh, and another thing.
Avoid magic. I'm not certain diplomatic immunity would protect you. And also, if you wish to confer later tonight, my room is one floor above yours, and I think two doors to the north. It's the corner suite, whic King has been gracious enough to provide for me. But be discreet. It would start tongues wagging if anyone saw you paying me a visit Good day, Master Bard."
Master Bard? Alaire thought, stunned. Is there any- thing Lyam doesn't know about us?
He and his Master watched the large man leave; he noticed this time that the Captain's head barely cleared the doorway as he passed beneath it Naitachal stared after him thoughtfully.
"He is, or was, the King's Spymaster," Naitachal said, after a long moment. "Was, I think. He keeps his network of spies still, but it is a small one now and he is no longer in the King's confidence."
Alaire wanted to ask how precisely he knew this, but experience had shown the Dark Elf would not waste his breath, and precious time, explaining. If any- thing, Naitachal would berate him for not figuring it out for himself.
And in a moment, he had figured it out. "He's friends with the Prince, but he doesn't know wh King mistrusts his own son, and he hasn't been able to do anything about that mistrust. That means he isn't close to the King anymore."
Naitachal nodded. "Exactly. In fact, supportin Prince may have been the reason he fell from grace.
But he doesn't know who's behind the troubles between the Prince and his father, or his land and ours. I'm certain of it."
Alaire sighed, and stood up. "What do we do now?"
"You, my young friend, must stay with Kai." Nai- tachal considered something else, then added, "And I believe I shall seek this Sir Jehan and pick his brains myself."
Chapt Naitachal left Alaire on the balcony. The first thing he did after leaving the room was to see if anyone was in the hallway who could have overheard them. He found no one, not even a servant, and trusted his con- versation with Captain Lyam had been a private one.
The talk with the burly swordsman had convinced him that they were both in danger here, and he con- templated returning to Althea for Alaire's protection.
They should have sent another ambassador. Someone who's had experience with this kind of political mess, he thought, stopping short of using the term "expend- able." This situation is more dangerous than I had ever suspected.
But to leave now would only humiliate Alaire without accomplishing anything for Althea, and they would be vulnerable on the road out of here. He could imagine the ease with which the opposing fac- tion could have them both eliminated, without witnesses, and then be able to blame their demise on hazards of traveclass="underline" natural predators, bandits or just simple bad luck. In many ways they were safer here, in this pit of wolves, because any harm that came to them would be most difficult to explain to an enraged King Reynard.
While this didn't grant them any immunity from hazards within the palace, it did give them some lever- age. Provided of course Suinomen didn't declare an all-out war against Althea. In which case, questions of their fate would become moot.
Better to deal with it now, he thought, resigned to the task ahead of him.
He found the huge antechamber to the King's suite, a grand room nearly the size of the great hall, taste- fully decorated with ornate, upholstered furniture and several heads of dieren and other creatures of the for- est mounted on plaques, hanging on the pale, plastered walls. The floor, as it was in just about every corner in the palace, was light, unfinished pine. Thirty or so individuals of obviously high rank lounged or talked fervently in groups, in their native language. A raging fire burned in a large fireplace, around which most of the courtiers gathered. Somewhere beyond the double doors at the end of the room was the King's reception hall, and the chamber for his private audi- ences. It was maddening to be so close and yet be unable to pass those doors. If he could only have used magic, to make himself invisible....
Well, he couldn't, and that was No one seemed to pay any real attention to him as he entered. Perhaps these people are too polite to stare. He could only hope.
From the doors at the other end of the room, Pikhalas emerged. There was a graying noble with him, and at that moment, one of the group by the fire called something out to both of them. And Naitachal recognized at least one thing in that hail. The na Sir Jehan -- who was, obviously, the man Pikhalas had just taken to speak with Archenomen.
Hmmmm. A confidant of the King. Interesting, Nai- tachal thought. Very, very interesting.
Pikhalas spotted the Dark Elf immediately. Naitachal feared he would take Sir Jehan and flee through the nearest exit, the King's aide did the opposite. He whispered something to his compan- ion, who nodded and regarded Naitachal evenly.
They both came over to him without hesitation.
What remarkable luck, Naitachal thought. Or is it?
"Ah, my dear Ambassador," Pikhalas offered. "How fortunate we both are." He extended his hand and shook Naitachal's black one warmly. "Allow me to introduce Sir Jehan. He would like to speak to you."