By the time they returned to the royal suite, Relam was nearly as emotionally bruised as he had been after his father had struck him weeks earlier. Where was the king? Was he hurt? Was he lost? And where was Eckle, his guard commander? Still searching, out in the woods somewhere?
“Your highness, try to get some sleep,” Galen said as Relam made to enter his room. “It will do you a world of good. Especially seeing as you’ll likely have to address the kingdom tomorrow when you win the hunt.”
“Aye,” Wil agreed. “There’s nothing to worry about. You’ll see, sir.”
Relam glared at his guards, wondering how they could be so dense. “My father is the king,” he reminded them. “And you should know that there are people in this kingdom that would love for him to be removed from that lofty position.” He paused, looking back and forth between them. “There is plenty of cause for worry.”
Chapter 37
Relam hardly slept that night. He woke three times, listening for some phantom noise that had stirred him from his slumber, waiting for it to repeat itself. But no sound was forthcoming, and he drifted back to sleep over and over.
Finally, an hour after dawn, Relam woke for good and rolled out of bed. He dressed slowly, stumbled to the door, and pulled it open.
The main room was empty, save for two guards standing just inside the door. Wil was one of them, the other was from the king’s personal guard.
“Any word?” Relam asked thickly.
Wil shook his head apologetically. “None, sir. We would have woken you if there was.”
Relam nodded dejectedly. “We’ll go to the west gate,” he decided, stepping into the main room and smoothing his hair. “If we don’t see anything by noon, we’re going after them.”
“Your highness-”
Relam glared at the other guard and he fell silent. “Come on, Wil,” Relam grunted. “Rouse the others. I’ll be ready in ten.”
“Yes, sir,” Wil replied immediately. “We are with you, your highness.”
Relam retreated to his room and locked the door. He washed and dressed at top speed, donning thick pants and a light shirt. Over the shirt went a leather jerkin, then a thick fur cloak. This done, Relam rummaged in his belongings until he found his armor.
He never wore it. There really was no reason to. But if he was going into the forest, he might want it. Relam piled the burnished metal into a bag and slung it over his shoulder, then buckled on his weapons belt and strode out to the main room of the royal suite.
Wil and the others were waiting, wearing full armor and fur cloaks, ready to battle the weather and anything else. Each of them had a longsword on their hip, and a sturdy dagger hanging opposite their primary weapons.
“Are you ready, your highness?” Eric asked gravely.
Relam nodded. “Yes,” he replied simply. “Lead on.”
The guards formed up around Relam, hands on the hilts of their weapons, and they began the journey to the western gate of Etares. The palace was empty, but as soon as the small band emerged onto the city streets there were people everywhere, all bundled up against the cold as Relam and his guards were. They all seemed to be headed for the west gate as well, perhaps believing that the king would be arriving and the Harvest Hunt festivities would continue as planned.
But when Relam and his guards reached the west gate, they found the doors sealed and the portcullis down. Commander Hadere was standing just outside the guardroom, waiting to greet the prince.
“Any news?” Relam asked as he approached.
“None, your highness,” Hadere replied. “I just sent riders to fetch back commander Eckle, or to at least get a report from him as to the situation.”
“Good,” Relam muttered. “When are they due back?”
“Within the hour. They had the fastest and freshest horses available.”
Relam nodded. “We’ll wait above, with your guards,” he said, mounting the stairs to the wall top. The stones were slick with ice and the footing was treacherous. Relam slipped and slid on the third step, barely recovering. Behind him, Wil and Johann cursed as they slipped as well.
By the time they reached the elevated walkway on top of the wall, the sun was well up, shining over the city and illuminating the distant borders of the Midwood. Nothing stirred amidst the gray, twisted trees, nor in the dead wasteland between the walls of wood and stone.
“They’ll turn up,” Galen murmured, stepping up beside Relam.
The prince made no reply.
Time wore on. The people of Etares came and went, seeking news of the hunt festivities. They were sent on their way and dispersed though, and by noon the word had spread through the city that everything was on hold and the king was still missing. A deep, melancholy air seemed to settle over the capital, even more stifling and crushing than the layers of snow and ice on every exposed surface.
“Your highness?”
Relam continued gazing to the west, forcing Hadere to step up beside him. “Your highness, still no word. My rider has been gone too long.”
The prince nodded slowly. “Then we had better go after them.” Relam reached into his pack and drew out greaves and bracers, strapping them to his forearms and shins. Then, he pulled a mail shirt over his head and belted his weapons over it to keep it from swinging about. This done, Relam pulled his cloak around him once more and turned towards the stairs.
“Your highness, are you sure-?”
“Muster forty men, as fast as
