“We should get moving,” Oreius interrupted. “Before someone else involved in D’Arnlo’s scheme can take control of the situation.”
Relam nodded in agreement and gestured for Yavvis to lead the way. The sword master guided the small group down through the towers and twisting passages of the Citadel. They encountered few guards, and those they did see backed away smartly and averted their eyes as Relam passed. The young prince pretended not to notice, keeping his own eyes on the path ahead.
Finally, they reached the lowest level and emerged into the entrance hall. Everything here was just as it had been when Relam passed through hours earlier, on his way to confront D’Arnlo. There were still squads of guards hanging about, torches and lanterns flickering on the walls. The sturdy pillars still stood at regular intervals, supporting the low ceiling.
The gate was unattended though, the gate guards having escorted Relam up to the seventh level courtyard earlier. In fact, they were probably still tied up there, Relam realized. He would have to send somebody to free them at some point, even though they had attacked him. They had simply been following orders, that was all.
Or was it? Relam stopped in his tracks, looking back over his shoulder and up through the ceiling, trying to picture the scene in his head again. The captain had seemed glad to see Relam, eager to turn him over to D’Arnlo. Had he really just been carrying out orders, or had the treasonous conspiracy penetrated deeper than Relam thought?
“Something the matter?” Oreius said in his ear, making Relam jump.
“Yes,” Relam said after a moment. “We’ll never really know who all was involved. And that means we won’t catch every traitor in the Citadel.”
“Possibly,” Oreius replied. “But that won’t matter. They will see what happens to those you do catch, and they will see a strong king that will not easily be overthrown.”
“Like my father?”
Oreius shook his head. “Forgive me, Relam, but your father was not a strong king. At least, not for the last year and a half or so.”
“He was always working-”
Oreius shook his head and Relam broke off. “That does not make a strong king,” he said. “Tell me, how did most of his meetings go? That you sat in on, I mean.”
Relam frowned, thinking. “I’ve only been to a few,” he said slowly. “But he always sent the others packing.”
“Yes!” Oreius said, nodding. “He soared over them, pushed his agenda with no compromise, and left no room to negotiate. Was that what you saw?”
“Roughly,” Relam admitted. “But the Council had it coming, stuck up, arrogant-”
“Fools and fops they may be,” Oreius agreed. “But a strong king hears them out anyway, then helps them understand why they are wrong and he is right. It is the harder way, it takes more patience. But it is the way to becoming a respected and wise leader, not a tyrant. I suspect - and I am only guessing here - that your father’s high-handed dealings with the Council may have been part of what pushed Lord Thius to join with D’Arnlo.”
Behind Relam, the gates were beginning to creep open as the others set their backs to the windlasses set to either side. “I see,” he said quietly. “I still have a lot to learn.”
Oreius shrugged. “One does not learn to be king in a day, Relam.”
“But I have to,” Relam pointed out.
“No,” Oreius countered fiercely, surprising Relam. “You have to do your very best. And learn constantly to avoid making the same mistake twice. You will learn by experience instead of teachings. And sometimes, that turns out to be the best way to learn.”
“But if I make a mistake-”
“Oh, you’ll make hundreds!” Oreius replied, laughing. “But you will learn, and you will become a wise and strong ruler.”
“How can you know?”
“Well, I don’t know for certain,” Oreius said, shrugging. “Nobody has the gift of seeing the future precisely. For all I know you’ll be assassinated in the next ten minutes or you’ll fall down the stairs upon your return to the palace. But barring such catastrophes, I believe you will be a strong king for the same reasons that I believed you were a student worthy of my time.”
“Which are?”
“Your character. Your drive to succeed. Your ability to bring people together, even the lordlings who you quarreled with for years and years. Your courage, and your reckless pursuit of excellence. Beyond that, you are fair and just. You would not allow us to kill the guards who had turned against us, if their deaths were at all avoidable. You showed mercy to people who were victims of D’Arnlo.”
“Not all of them,” Relam muttered. “Some of them I’m sure were working with him.”
“And those I trust you will judge appropriately,” Oreius agreed gravely. “But the point is, I trust the young man who I have trained for the last several months. I trust his character, and his ability to learn. Skills will come to him over time, and he will be a strong and wise king.”
Relam felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He had no idea that Oreius thought so highly of him. “Thank you, master,” he said humbly.
“Of course, your majesty,” Oreius replied, bowing low. “Now,” he continued as the gates finally opened completely. “It’s time to tell our guests what has happened here.”
No sooner were the gates open than Relam’s personal guards surged through the gap, weapons drawn and ready, glaring around suspiciously. “What do you mean by that? Running off in the middle of the night?” Wil demanded before shoving Relam behind him and forming a circle of outward facing blades with the rest of the guards. “We were out of our minds with worry, thought we’d lost you too, your majesty.”
“Relax,” Relam said. “I’ll explain everything.
