Exile's Honor

:Do you think your name would make Aksel change his mind?: Kantor asked.

:It might....: The now-familiar sickness rose in him again.

:And would you want it to?: Kantor continued, :Or would you rather —:

:I would rather there was no pressure on my old teacher but that of his own thoughts,: Alberich said firmly. Kantor let the matter drop. And to his immense relief, Dethor made no request for some token from Alberich. Nor did the third man—who felt, perhaps, that a message from one already branded as a traitor would do his cause with Aksel no good.

'Aksel Tarselein.' Dethor and the third man exchanged a look, and the third man grunted. 'That's one name more than we had before. Especially if he decides to talk.'

'Yes.' Alberich didn't elaborate; Dethor didn't pressure him to. The third man got up to leave.

Dethor poured a tankard full of beer and pushed it across the table to Alberich, as the third man turned at the door, gave Talamir and Dethor a little nod, and walked out. Alberich picked up the tankard and drained half of it in one gulp.

He felt a great need of it, at that moment, and it did a little, a very little, to settle his unsettled stomach and nerves.

:It is only a rumor,: Kantor said suddenly. :That is all. No matter that this spy of Sendar's has convinced everyone that it is more than that. He has no proof. He has only heard stories and a name, for no one he has spoken to has seen the Tedrels or their Captains, or even an agent that may be said to come from them.:

Relief made Alberich's hands a little steadier as he put down the tankard. :If anyone will know the truth of the rumor, it will be Aksel,: he replied. :And if it is true, I believe that Aksel will speak.:

:And in any case, it is out of your hands.:

'Well, no matter what, Talamir, it's out of our hands,' Dethor sighed, echoing Kantor's words. 'This is a thing for those with talents you and I don't have. Nor Alberich either.'

Alberich regarded him broodingly. 'I could. But a pledge you made to me—'

'And we'll keep it,' Talamir said with finality. 'Though I will admit to you freely, that this is one reason why the Lord Marshal's man was here. He wanted us to pressure you into crossing the Border again, to spy for Valdemar.'

Wordlessly, Alberich shook his head.

Dethor snorted. 'Aye, we told him as much, then asked him to his face if he'd really trust you if you agreed. And he had to admit that he wouldn't, so what's the point? We know you're sound as a good apple, but to the likes of him, a man that turns may well turn again. Gods help us, though, I sometimes wonder what we're to do with you.'

Alberich eased his dry mouth with another swallow. 'What you have done. There is, what else to do, to bring trust where there is none?'

'Not much. Doubters can't accuse you of much, here with my eye on you, and keeping you apart from the rest means that nobody's going to try and make trouble for you. What d'ye think of young Selenay?' An abrupt change of subject, but Alberich answered it quickly enough.

'Steady, thoughtful, careful, and untried.' He saw the questions in Dethor and Talamir's eyes, and tried to answer them. 'No opposition, has she met. No loss, no pain. No great joys either, no love. With the single eye, she sees now—clearly, in black and white, as young things do. Until she has more wisdom, well, who knows how she will see then? When great events come upon her—then will you see, of what she is made. Not until. But the makings of a king, she has. And she thinks, which, with more than most young things, is not the case.'

'Told you so,' Dethor said in an aside to Talamir. The King's Own just shrugged. Dethor turned back to Alberich. 'She came up with this bodyguard notion on her own, but I think it's no bad idea, having you instead of one of the Guard, especially when she's with Mirilin. Lad in a Guard uniform puts people on edge; fellow in Whites makes 'em wonder if the Heralds have some reason to haul in more than one for a simple Herald's Court. But a fellow in Grays? Nah, that makes 'em relax. We want someone with her to keep her back covered, without making people nervous that he's there. People don't necessarily expect a fellow in Grays to be much of a fighter, and they don't think of him as a fancier sort of constable. They take you, I'll be bound, for another Trainee on Internship, maybe another highborn.'

Alberich smiled slowly, seeing what Dethor was getting at. Talamir only looked strained. 'But once the Council finds out, there will be difficulties,' the King's Own said reluctantly, then shook his head. 'Yes, and I admit, it is my responsibility to smooth them out. Well, the easiest way will be by simply not