“That is still the case,” Relam agreed. “But I have chosen a master who Tar holds in very high esteem. Many of your students applied to him as well.”
Silence stretched between the two for a moment. D’Arnlo’s eyes narrowed and he steepled his fingers in front of him, the tips pressed together until they turned white.
“Fascinating,” D’Arnlo whispered finally. “And may I ask who this fabulous swordsman might be?”
“Oreius.”
D’Arnlo snorted and shook his head. “Come now, your highness, this is not the time or place for jokes. It does not become those of our station.”
“It was not a joke, Master D’Arnlo,” Relam replied stiffly. “I am training with Oreius. That is why I must decline your offer, generous as it is.”
“There is still time to reconsider-”
“I started this morning,” Relam said bluntly. “Trained all day. And I see no reason to break my word and switch to a different master at this time.” He stood, indicating that the audience was over. “Thank you again for your generous offer,” he said, smiling slightly. “Should Oreius’ training become unsatisfactory at some point, you can be sure I will consider you as an alternative. Now, I’ve had a long day and training begins again in the morning. Good night, Master D’Arnlo.”
And before the sword master could protest or reply, he was ushered out of the room by Relam’s guards, leaving the prince alone once more.
Chapter 28
The next day followed a similar pattern to the first. Relam rose early, ate a solitary breakfast, then walked to Oreius’ house and let himself in around the side. The old man was sitting on the stone bench again, but this time he noticed Relam almost immediately upon arrival.
They spent the morning on awareness drills again. Relam did a little better than the previous day, but he was distracted and he knew that he could have done better. In the back of his mind, he was worried about how brusquely he had dismissed D’Arnlo the previous night. In hindsight, he could have handled that situation much better, but the sword master’s appearance on the heels of Eckle’s appointment had been too much for him to deal with all at once. If only-
“If you are done daydreaming, boy, can we get back to our training?” an irritable voice growled.
Relam jumped and looked up, meeting Oreius’ frustrated gaze. “Sorry,” Relam muttered. “Just a lot on my mind.”
“Hmph,” Oreius grunted. “Must be something big. Yesterday you were completely focused and in control. Today you seem a little off balance.”
“D’Arnlo offered me training last night,” Relam said finally. “He was going to summon me to the Citadel to make the offer but I told his messenger that if he wanted to talk he could come to the palace.”
“Oh, I imagine he took that very well,” Oreius muttered, eyes glinting.
“He actually didn’t mention it during our conversation,” Relam replied.
“Shocking. How did he take your rejection of his offer?”
“He didn’t believe me,” Relam said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m still not sure he does.”
“Well, it’s nothing to beat yourself up over,” Oreius grunted with a shrug.
“He’s only the master of the Citadel and I just dismissed him like a servant,” Relam countered.
“You didn’t mention that,” Oreius pointed out. “But, I’m glad you did it. It was about time someone took the overblown fool down a peg or two.”
Relam said nothing. It was one thing for Oreius to make light of the situation here in the garden in broad daylight, quite another to remember the furious light in D’Arnlo’s eyes when Relam had told him he already had a master.
“It will be all right,” Oreius said finally. “Princes have a tendency to say and do boneheaded and insensitive things. He’ll forget about it by next week. He’ll be too busy with his many students in any event.” Oreius tapped his foot impatiently and looked down at Relam, who was sitting on the stone bench. “Now, tell me what you sense.”
Relam sighed and closed his eyes. “Clear your mind,” Oreius whispered in his ear. “Don’t think, feel. Listen.”
“The river,” Relam said immediately. No matter how many times he did this drill, the river always came first. It was the most pervasive of sounds, and the most constant. The river never changed.
“Keep going.”
“A ship,” Relam added quickly, for he could hear a boat moving up river, against the current. The sound of splashing, thrashing oars was overlaying the natural flow now. “Going upriver.”
“Not downriver?”
“They wouldn’t be rowing downriver.”
“Excellent point. But there you go thinking again.”
“I felt it first, I only thought when you asked me to justify it,” Relam protested.
“Never mind that, what else do you sense?”
“The city,” Relam muttered. He could hear the rattle of cart wheels, the snorting and blowing of oxen and horses, the babble of chatter from the people of the city, the crunch of footsteps on the gravel path.
Relam froze. He had not heard Oreius move, but there was clearly somebody moving on the garden paths. “Oreius?” Relam asked quietly.
“Yes?” the old man replied calmly. The old man’s voice came from directly behind him, where the ground was flagstone.
“I think we have a visitor.”
“So we do,” Oreius agreed. “He’s been here for a few minutes now, actually.”
The tension drained out of Relam suddenly and completely, leaving him feeling a little empty and cheated. He had been preparing for battle inwardly and now that a fight was not forthcoming he felt let down. The prince opened his eyes and looked around, scanning the gravel paths.
“Good morning, your highness, Oreius,” a cloaked man called stepping
