Naitachal froze, allowing the appropriate shock and surprise to surface on his dark face. He turned t King. "Why, Your Majesty, what has happened? Have you sent the guards to look for them? Is there any hint of foul play?"
"You see!" the King exclaimed. "He doesn't know a thing! And you were wanting to risk a war -- "
He broke off abruptly, and returned his attention to single-mindedly devouring his meal. Good gods, Nai- tachal thought, gazing at Sir Jehan blankly. What I walked into here?
All assembled looked appropriately embarrassed.
Naitachal cleared his throat, and their eyes went to him again. "Your Majesty, if harm has come t Prince, then what of my secretary? He would defend young Kai, and I confess that now I am growing very anxious. And as I gather from Alaire, Kainemonen is a skilled swordsman himself. What happened to them?"
"We know very little, as yet," the King said, slurping loudly from a goblet, showing no concern whatsoever for his son. "The Swords of the Association are looking for a mage. You see, magic is involved. Signs of it were found with the body. I pray that both boys are safe, but you see, they are in a very disreputable part of town."
He turned to Naitachal again, with his face set in an inexpert mask of care. "It is a testament to my failings as a father that he would choose to seek entertainment in such a place. I know that your servant only meant well, but this has become a rather difficult situation."
"How may I help?" Naitachal offered, now free to display all of his considerable anxiety. "I am as interested as you are in securing their safety. If there was -- "
"It would be best," Sir Jehan interrupted sti "under the circumstances, that you remain distant from -- "
"Let the man finish!" the King shouted. "I'm still not convinced that Althea is behind this!"
Naitachal glanced up at Sir Jehan, who looked away nervously. "Althea?" the elf said softly. "That wou -- an unwise assumption."
"Of course, I don't think Althea is to blame,"
King blustered. The wine sloshed over the rim of his goblet. "And neither does anyone else at this table.
There are forces behind this, this, this conspiracy that are still a mystery. I'm afraid you've become involved in a rather nasty civil dispute."
Naitachal spread his hands, helplessly. "I don't mean to pry, Your Majesty, but what is the nature of this dispute? I know nothing of it, and King Reynard knows even less. We seem to have become implicated only because we are foreigners in your land. My main concern is for the safety of the two young men. If I may help in some way -- "
Sir Jehan stood suddenly, glared at Naitachal, and stormed out of the dining room. The Dark Elf tried not to stare, with little success.
"Ignore him," the King said. Sir Jehan's footsteps thumped loudly down the corridor, audible for a sur- prising distance. "We are not blaming you. He sees a traitor behind every closed door."
As perhaps you should, Naitachal thought privately.
"I didn't warn you when you first arrived,"
King began. The Prince is an immature youth, filled with ambition. I believe his ambition grows too great, and he has begun to cast envious eyes on the powers and positions he cannot have. But he fails to understand just how powerful our mages are.
I am in no danger."
But what Naitachal saw in his tone and mannerisms told a completely different story. King Archenomen's eyes shifted from side to side, his voice quavered, his drinking hand shook ever so slightly. He seldo Naitachal's eyes. Is he afraid of me?
Regarding the other dinner guests with cool detach- ment, he took in their faces, and social rank as indicated by their clothing. Of those assembled, he recognized one as the Count he met the first night. Others had been present in the waiting room when he met Sir Jehan.
One was without a doubt a mage, masquerading unsuccessfully as a noble.
All seemed to ignore the interplay betwee King and the Dark Elf. In fact, they were listening, very carefully, while at the same time trying to be as invisible as possible.
The King shook his head. "If there is a danger to me, which I doubt, it would be in the form of going too far to defend against hazards which do not exist.
Sir Jehan will calm down. When he does, then we can settle down to business."
The dinner proceeded in silence, and slowly the other guests excused themselves. It seemed all very strange to the Dark Elf, who would have expected at least some show of concern for Alaire and the Prince.
Naitachal permitted himself to display his worry Alaire, as he wondered what had really happened in the tavern district.
After supper adjourned, the King took Naitachal aside. "We will keep you informed, Ambassador,"
King said, evidently thinking he had to smooth ruffled feathers. "I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. By dawn they'll both come staggering home, with youth- ful tales of wine and women. Oh, and before you leave," he added. "It would probably be best if you remain in your quarters."
To Naitachal's accusing look, he quickly ame "So that we can find you on short notice, of course.
And for your safety."
Naitachal raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know my safety was in question."
The King waved the comment away. "Just a precau- tion. Good evening, Ambassador."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Naitachal said, bowing deeply. "And good evening."
As he ascended the stairs to his room, he sa Jehan standing in the shadows, talking with a handful of noblemen. He stopped as soon as Naitachal came into view, and sent the others about their business before turning pointedly to go himself. But he man- aged to cast a cold, calculating look towards the elf, complete with nauseating smile, before he was out of Chapte Alaire awakened, confused and rather groggy, buried to the chin in a pile of hay in a loft above a stable.
Below him, he heard horses blowing and stamping.
Dim gray light filtered in through closed shutters at one end of the loft. Kai was nowhere in sight. Weakly, he struggled to sit up.
It was very cold, and the hay was all that had been keeping him warm. He took in his surroundings, won- dering why he was there, and how. A single ladder lay against the loft edge within arm's reach, and it looked like the only way up. In his mouth lingered the unpleasant aftertaste of liquor. Did I get drunk and forget what happened? He'd heard about blackouts from his brother Craig, who on numerous occasions had been unable to recall an entire evening of drink- ing. More than once Alaire had helped put him to bed after too much ale, after one of his Required Fam Visits to the palace in Silver City. But this had never happened to him. Then again, he'd never tried to keep up with a sot quite like Kai before.
There's a first time for everything. Did someone carry me up to this loft because I passed out? Gods, what happened to me?
A single round ventilation grille above him allowed some light in. Beyond the piles of hay he made out the wood-slat floor, which creaked as he stirred, and the vague outline of his harp in its canvas bag, leaning against the wall. Beside it was his bloodied sword, glinting in the weak light.