“I gladly await that moment,” Relam said, smiling. “Now, get going.”
Eric hitched up his sword belt and marched after Johann, muttering about foolhardy and idiotic princes. Relam wisely let the comments slide and moved to join the lordlings, standing in the shadow of the Citadel.
“About time,” Sebast growled. “Where are they going, reinforcements?”
“No,” Relam said, smiling thinly. “I sent them home. There’s no need for an escort now that you lot are here. I should be quite safe.”
Cevet smirked knowingly and looked away. Delan and Knet looked perplexed. Garenes sneered openly.
“You think you’re something special, don’t you, your highness?” Sebast growled. “Training with Oreius instead of D’Arnlo, challenging the rest of us to do the same.”
“How did that go for you?” Relam asked innocently.
Sebast scowled. “I never applied,” he lied. “It was a foolish challenge. And as such there was no reason to accept it or see it through.”
“Really?” Relam asked skeptically. “Fascinating. You had better hope that Oreius doesn’t teach me too much, Sebast. Otherwise you might find yourself in the river again.”
Cevet snorted with laughter and Sebast flushed angrily. “Watch it, princeling,” he warned. “We’re all trained warriors, and by the look of your rearranged face you aren’t.”
“Trained warriors?” Relam asked, pretending to be impressed. “D’Arnlo works quickly. Didn’t you start training just this morning?”
“Yeah,” Cevet said with a shrug. “But we reviewed all the stuff Tar taught us so we’re basically experts.”
“No, we’re not,” Jatt broke in, frowning. “We have years of training to go.”
“Well spoken,” Relam said, bowing slightly in Jatt’s direction. “But Cevet spoke only in jest, Jatt.”
“You mean he was kidding?”
“If you prefer it that way, yes.”
Jatt nodded slowly. “I knew that,” he proclaimed, daring anyone to contradict him.
“What about you, Sebast?” Relam asked, dropping his hand to the hilt of his sword. “Do you feel like an expert?”
“I’m better than you at any rate,” the lordling snarled.
Relam raised an eyebrow. “On what grounds?”
“Let it go, Sebast,” Knet urged. Beside him, Delan nodded agreement.
“No,” Garenes snarled. “I’ve had enough of him pretending he’s better than the rest of us because he was born in a palace and we weren’t. I’m sick of it. We will be great lords one day, except for Jatt and Cevet, we deserve better than this.”
“Would you like to prove who is better once and for all?” Relam asked. “I believe Tar’s last class just got out. I’m sure he would let us use his training ground.”
“Don’t do it Sebast,” Knet urged.
Sebast waved Knet’s warning aside. “Fine,” he decided. “I’ll beat you quickly.”
Relam bowed slightly. “As you wish. Before we begin though, I would like to propose that no matter the outcome, we drop these petty squabbles between us.” He eyed the rest of the lordlings. “All of us. One day, as Sebast pointed out, we will be the leaders of this kingdom. Three of you will be great lords, and though Cevet and Jatt are not of great lord houses they will go on to do great things as well. We will have to work together. As men and respected lords, not children.”
Knet and Delan shuffled their feet, avoiding Relam’s eyes. Cevet looked intrigued by this turn of events, and was fingering his chin as though calculating the odds that this gambit would have any effect on the way things stood. Jatt was confused, but this was nothing new. Relam fixed his eyes on Sebast though, wondering what his reaction would be. The lordling merely rolled his eyes.
“Fine,” he said again. “Let’s settle this. Once and for all.”
“You give your word?”
“If I must.”
“And the rest of you?”
“Aye,” Cevet said immediately.
“Aye,” Knet and Delan chorused defiantly.
“Aye what?” Jatt asked, blinking stupidly.
Relam decided that Jatt’s response would have to do. “Very well. Let’s proceed.”
They started off towards Tar’s training ground, ignoring Jatt’s protest, “Home is the other way, isn’t it?” In mere moments, they were at the front gate. A few students were trickling out, but the majority were still inside, talking amongst themselves. Tar himself was demonstrating a trick to disarm an opponent to a trio of interested observers, among them the tall athletic boy Relam had noticed on his previous visits. Aven was also in the small group, frowning with concentration.
As the lordlings entered with Relam, the babble of chatter slowed, then eventually died out. Many of the students had been present when Cevet and Relam had fought two weeks earlier, and were curious what Tar’s former students were doing here so late in the afternoon. As the chatter died away, Tar stopped his demonstration and looked around, puzzled. His eyes lit on Relam and he started to smile. Then, his expression turned guarded as he saw who accompanied him.
“Your highness,” the sword master said, bowing slightly. “Welcome, as always.”
“Thank you, Tar,” Relam murmured.
Master Agath turned abruptly to face Sebast. “I told you never to come here again,” he said flatly.
Sebast stood his ground defiantly, his face flaming. The other cadets had all heard Tar’s words and were whispering amongst themselves, wondering what Relam’s companion had done to get himself banned from the facility. Relam ignored the whisperers and stepped closer to Tar, lowering his voice.
“It was my idea. We need to put this behind us, now. All of us,” he added, looking meaningfully at the sword master.
Tar did not miss the significance of Relam’s words. He cocked his head curiously, studying the prince. Relam wondered what his old teacher was looking for. Some sign of Oreius’ influence, perhaps?
“Are you ready, Sebast?” Relam asked, scooping up two practice swords and tossing one to the lordling.
“Don’t you want gear?” Sebast asked.
Relam shook his head.
