Garthel looked questioningly at Lorn. ‘Should we?’
The difficult decision sat heavy on Lorn. Did he trust these strangers, or believe their story of a mysterious patron? Not completely, he realised, but he knew his people were bone-tired, and if there was another place in Ganjor offering them rooms he didn’t know of it.
‘All right,’ he concluded. ‘We’ll stay, but only for a night or two. And in the morning I want more answers, Kamag. If I don’t get them, we’re leaving.’
‘If you do, it will be your conscience that is tainted, not mine,’ said Kamag. ‘As for answers, I have told you all that I can.’
Lorn got up from the floor. ‘Then perhaps you have things to think over as well.’ He dug into his pocket and pulled out some of the coins he’d taken from Duke Erlik. ‘Here,’ he said, tossing them on the table. ‘We’ll pay our own way tonight. You have room for so many of us?’
‘Yes, but you’ll have to share,’ said Kamag. He took the coins, giving half to Dahj. ‘Bring your people, and whatever animals and supplies you have. They are not safe on the street.’
Kamag was good to his word. By the time Lorn and the Believers returned to the shrana house, the dark man had rooms arranged for them all. They were not luxurious chambers, but they were clean and comfortable, and the travellers appreciated them. After many days sleeping under the sky, the beds and sheets were greeted like long-lost family. There were four rooms, all of about the same size, and these were divided equally among the group, without much thought to separating the men from the women. That was a concern that had vanished a long time ago. The only worry now was that each of them had room enough to sleep and food enough to fill their stomachs. Luckily, there was an abundance of fresh food and good drink, and Lorn and his people ate until their bellies threatened to burst. And while they ate, they talked about Kamag and Dahj and the good fortune of encountering them, though none of them still knew for certain why they risked themselves so much to help others.
By nightfall, though, it no longer seemed to matter. They were pleased to be safe and sheltered, at least for a while, and only Lorn continued wondering about their predicament. He had not been honest with his comrades — he was afraid of this prince called Aztar. Not for himself, because he knew he was a survivor, but for Poppy and Eiriann and all the others. He had led this far, and he was proud of that, but was he leading them to doom now?
As he lay awake on a cot in a room he shared with six others, Lorn pondered the dark possibilities. Of all of them, only he could really fight, and if they did encounter Aztar’s army they would have no chance at all. But what if Aztar was a myth, a concoction meant to keep them here? Such a theory made no real sense, but then none of it made sense to him. Lorn fretted, unable to sleep.
Finally, long after midnight, he gave up tossing and turning and decided to go for a walk. The night air would do him good and clear his head, so he rose from his bed and as quietly as possible left the chamber without waking any of his roommates. Unsure of the time, he got clues from the silence in the shrana house and guessed it was very late indeed — or very early. The stone steps leading upstairs were empty, and from the landing looking down he could see or hear no one. Supposing it was all right to go downstairs, he descended the old steps and found himself once again in the tavern. This time, though, the place was deserted, and no one came through the beaded curtain. Even the fire in the round hearth had been extinguished, the only light coming from two gold lamps over a far table. Surprisingly, there were figures at that table, sitting on the floor as Lorn had done hours before over cups of shrana.
One of the figures was Kamag. He was talking, though very softly. The other figure shocked Lorn, for it was clearly a woman. Deciding to be part of their conversation, he loudly cleared his throat.
Both Kamag and the woman turned toward him at once. Kamag’s eyes were wide with worry, but the woman — a very young and beautiful one — seemed happily surprised.
‘Wait,’ said Kamag, standing up at once. ‘Do not come closer.’
‘No,’ said the woman. She stood as well. Her eyes met Lorn’s across the room. ‘This is the Norvan?’ When Kamag nodded she smiled. ‘I want to meet him.’ She waved Lorn into the room ‘Come ahead. We are alone here.’
Though the situation disturbed Kamag, Lorn was too curious not to accept the invitation. He approached the woman, examining her. She was Ganjeese, like Kamag, with raven hair and piercing eyes and skin like molasses, darkly shining in the lamplight. Her clothes were expensive; she was a woman of means. A brocade of scarlet silk covered her shoulders and a long gold skirt covered her legs down to her sandalled feet. Her toes wore rings, her neck green gems, and her smile warmed the chamber as she met Lorn. Not knowing how best to greet her, Lorn bowed slightly.
‘Lady,’ he said, ‘I think I owe you some thanks. Are you the one Kamag told us of? The one who seeks to protect us?’
‘I am discovered,’ said the young woman. She was barely more than a girl, but had the manners of one raised in court. ‘My name is Salina.’
‘Princess!’ gasped Kamag.
‘It is all right, Kamag, he would have guessed soon enough.’ The young woman put out her hand for Lorn. ‘Please, sit and talk with me. It is you I came to see.’
Lorn took her hand uncertainly. ‘You are a princess? A princess of Ganjor?’
‘Only one of many daughters to my father,’ said Salina. ‘Will you sit with me and talk?’
There was no way Lorn could resist. He let Salina pull him down next to her.
‘Forgive me, my lady, but I have questions.’ Lorn shrugged, not knowing where to start. ‘This whole thing confuses me.’
‘I understand, of course,’ said Salina. ‘But let us talk in private. Kamag, will you leave us for a while? I wish to speak alone with him.’
Kamag looked disapprovingly at the girl. Finally he nodded and left them alone. When he was gone Salina poured a cup of shrana for Lorn. Lorn took the cup but did not drink. He was full of questions but didn’t know where to begin, and the sight of his pretty young benefactor tied his tongue in a knot.
‘My people, upstairs,’ he began haltingly. ‘My friends. They are all grateful to you, as am I. But I need you to explain it to me, madam. Who are you? And why are you helping us?’
‘My name is Salina,’ said the girl, ‘but you already know that. And you know that I am a daughter of King Baralosus.’
Lorn nodded. ‘A princess.’
‘Yes. And I’m not supposed to be here now. .’ She smiled at him. ‘What is your name?’
‘Lorn is my name. I am a Norvan.’
Princess Salina eyed him. ‘Lorn?’
‘That’s right.’
She hesitated. ‘I am not an uneducated woman, but the only Norvan man I’ve ever heard of is named Lorn. But he’s supposed to be dead now. Tell me — is yours a very common name in Norvor?’
‘Not very,’ Lorn replied. ‘Princess, you have already trusted me — though I know not why. So I will trust you now. I am Lorn of Norvor, once a king and now just a man. If you have heard of me then I suppose the things you’ve heard are not good. But I ask your faith regardless.’
Princess Salina was enthralled. ‘King Lorn, you are supposed to be dead.’
‘Perhaps, though rumours of my continued existence seem to be following me south. You see, my lady, why I am so skittish of you and your friends. There was a duke in Dreel who said he wanted to help me, too. Now he’s dead.’
‘You are a hunted man, then?’
‘So it seems.’
‘I assure you, I did not know who you were before you told me.’
The two strangers stared at each other over the table. Lorn saw sincerity in Salina’s eyes, but he wasn’t sure it was reflected back.