“And what about you?” Relam asked.
“I’ll stay of course. Gather information, try and find a way for us to fix this,” Oreius replied.
The knocking started up again, louder, more insistent.
“If I leave, D’Arnlo’s hold on the city will only increase with time,” Relam protested.
“Aye, but we need time right now, and if you are found and arrested or killed, all hope is lost.” Oreius shivered and tossed more wood on the fire. “Now, go, quickly.”
Relam’s eyes watered. Impulsively, he stood and embraced Oreius. “I’ll miss you,” he murmured.
“And I you, boy,” Oreius growled. “Now, get going. Narin,” he added, stopping the two in their tracks.
“Yes?” the former commander asked, looking back.
“Keep him safe,” Oreius said.
Narin nodded gravely. “I will. I’ll protect him with my life, Oreius.”
“Good man,” the old warrior muttered. “Now, go!”
Relam and Narin hurried out of the sitting room as a fresh bout of knocking began. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” Oreius called bad-temperedly. The two refugees fled towards the back door, slipping through the opening. As they were pulling the back door shut, they heard Oreius open the front door.
“What do you want?” the old man demanded. “It’s early yet, come back later.”
“Sorry, Master Oreius,” a young voice said breathlessly. “But I need to talk to Relam.”
Cevet! Relam had no trouble recognizing his friend’s voice. Then, he frowned. This certainly didn’t sound like a search party. He hesitated on the back porch, one hand still on the back door, which was still slightly open. Narin tugged at Relam’s sleeve impatiently, but the young heir to the throne held up a hand, gesturing for him to wait a moment.
“He’s not here,” Oreius growled. “Anyway, why would he be here?”
“You haven’t heard?” Cevet asked. “He disappeared from the palace, his room in flames, one of the windows shattered. Rumor is he’s fled or kidnapped.”
“And why would you come here if he’s been kidnapped?” Oreius asked. “Planning on arresting me, boy?”
“No, sir,” Cevet said quickly. “I was hoping he might have fled here. I have urgent news, I ran all the way here, I swear it’s important!”
Narin was gesturing frantically now, indicating it was time to go. But Relam shook him off impatiently, trying to focus on what Cevet and Oreius were discussing.
“Nobody followed you?”
“Not that I saw.”
“Does anybody know you’re here?”
“No.”
There was a long pause. Relam could picture Oreius frowning thoughtfully at the lordling.
“Where did you come running from anyway?” Oreius asked finally.
“The Citadel,” Cevet gasped. “Please, sir, let me in!”
Relam’s eyes widened and he exchanged a glance with Narin. The former commander was frowning thoughtfully, debating whether it was safe or not.
“Well,” Oreius said finally. “In that case, you had better come in.”
“Thank you, sir,” Cevet said breathlessly. Relam heard quick, light footsteps, then the sound of Oreius shutting and locking the front door. Only after the front of the house had been secured did Relam push open the back door and reenter the house.
As he did, two figures in the front hall spun to face him. Oreius, angry and surprised, his bushy eyebrows drawn together under his long, tangled hair. Cevet on the other hand moaned with relief and ran towards Relam, embracing him.
“I knew it!” he cried. “I knew they hadn’t gotten to you. You’re too good a fighter, thanks to Master Oreius. Assassins wouldn’t stand a chance!”
Relam looked over Cevet’s shoulder at Oreius. The old warrior rolled his eyes and jerked a thumb towards the empty living room.
“We might as well all sit down,” he said. “Narin, put some coffee or tea on, will you? I could use a hot drink.”
“Narin!” Cevet released Relam and stepped back, looking around wildly. Then, he spotted Narin, hovering on the back porch uncertainly. The lordling shook his head slowly. “I never really believed that Relam had you killed,” he said somberly. “But I didn’t expect to find you here.”
“That’s what made it such a good hiding place,” Narin countered. “Nobody expected to find me here.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re alive,” Cevet muttered. “You always struck me as a good person. And we need those right now, as many as we can get.”
“Hold on,” Oreius growled. “We’ll talk in a moment. First, a drink. I’m not properly awake yet.”
“You’ve been up since midnight!” Relam protested.
“And I’m half asleep now,” Oreius replied, stumping into the kitchen and filling a battered coffeepot with water. “Narin, grind some beans for me, will you?”
“I’m not your servant old man,” Narin grumbled. But he followed Oreius into the kitchen and began rummaging in the pantry.
“We may as well help them,” Relam said to Cevet, stifling a yawn. “We’ll get to your urgent news faster that way.”
Cevet hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “All right,” he conceded. “But I really think we should talk first.”
“If we talk now, nobody except you will remember half of what you said,” Relam said gently. “We’ve been trying to figure out what to do about - er, something - all night.”
“Shall we have something to eat, too?” Narin called from the kitchen. “I’ve got some sausages here and I could make some toast. Oh, bacon!”
“Get out of there you pilfering bandit!” Oreius roared. “And where are those coffee beans?”
Thirty minutes later, Relam, Oreius, Narin, and Cevet finally sat down to an extensive breakfast of sausage, toast, flat cakes, bacon, eggs, potatoes and more. The coffeepot sat in a place of honor at the center, and each of the diners had a bracing mug of the strong drink
