His father laughed and sat down beside him, looking up at the pale blue sky. “What a morning,” he said happily, looking back at Relam. “Thank you, son. That was the most fun I’ve had in many a year.”
“Thanks for teaching me,” Relam replied, gulping down lungfuls of air. “I think,” he added as his side flamed with a painful stitch.
“You’ll be fine when the trials come,” his father assured him. “Take the rest of the day off. And tell your servant I’ll have everything arranged in the next few days.”
“Thank you,” Relam said again, groaning.
“Don’t mention it.” The king stood, wincing. “Right. Ready for lunch? I’m starving.”
Relam started to rise, then moaned aloud and sat again. “I think I need another minute.”
Chapter 5
Relam took his father’s advice and spent what remained of that day resting in his room. He ate a light lunch with his parents, his father regaling his mother with a blow by blow account of the morning battles, then retreated to his room to clean up and change out of his sweat-stained practice gear. Once he was clean, he fell back onto his bed and stayed there until dinner, alternating between dozing and staring at the ceiling. By the time he was summoned for the evening meal, his muscles were starting to stiffen and were sorer than ever.
After dinner, Relam retreated to his room again and promptly fell asleep, drained of energy. When he woke, it was late morning, and sunlight was streaming through the tall windows opposite his bed.
The young prince squinted into the bright light and sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. He struggled for a moment to remember what had happened. Had he been sick? Was that why he had been allowed to sleep the morning away?
Then, he stretched and his arms and shoulders popped and cracked. His muscles protested weakly, reminding him of the exertions of the previous day. Relam sighed and got out of bed slowly. Even his legs were sore and he had difficulty moving with any speed as he crossed to the washroom.
A half hour later, Relam emerged from the washroom feeling considerably better. He had just finished dressing when a knock came at the door.
“Who is it?” Relam called, raking a hand through his damp hair.
“It’s Aven, your highness.”
Relam smiled to himself and reached eagerly for the door knob. Then he paused. Aven never called him ‘your highness’. Relam pressed his best eye, his left, to a cunningly concealed spyhole in the door. Sure enough, it was Aven on the other side, looking anxious and uncertain.
The prince flipped the latch and opened the door quickly, just wide enough for Aven to slip through. The boy did so without any delay.
“Since when have I been ‘your highness’ to you?” he asked Aven curiously.
“The king is in the sitting room,” Aven explained. “I thought it wise to be on my best behavior.”
“Ah, yes, good thinking,” Relam agreed. “Good news on that front.”
“He agreed?” Aven asked, eyes wide with excitement.
Relam nodded. “Yes, much easier than I expected. Now, you’ll have to keep quiet about this and so will your parents, but we’re making the arrangements. Everything should be in place by the end of the week. I’ll let you know when that’s done and what the next step is.”
“Wow,” Aven breathed. “I can’t wait to tell my parents. They were pretty ske- . . . skepti . . .”
“Skeptical?” Relam suggested.
“That,” Aven agreed. “Told me not to get my hopes up too high, that nobles are different from-” He clamped his mouth shut suddenly, as though afraid he might offend Relam.
Relam chuckled tolerantly. “No offense taken, Aven. I am smart enough to realize what most of those of my station act like. I have to deal with them on an almost daily basis.”
“Will that change after the trials? You could choose a different master than them.”
Relam hadn’t thought about that. He had assumed he would still have to see Garenes and the others nearly every day. But now that he thought about it, why shouldn’t he just choose a different master and avoid them altogether?
“That’s not a bad idea,” he allowed finally. “But some problems only get worse if you avoid them rather than confront them.”
“Maybe,” Aven said shrugging. Then, he brightened again. “Wait until I tell my parents. Me, in the city guard. A soldier, once I’m old enough.”
“It will take hard work,” Relam warned. “And it might be difficult to do two jobs at once.”
“I’ll manage,” Aven said confidently. “Thank you for doing this for me.”
“You’re more than welcome,” Relam replied, smiling.
“Anything else you need?” Aven asked as he turned back towards the door.
“Not at the moment.”
“Okay,” Aven said, waving airily. “Good luck with your trials tomorrow.”
Tomorrow! Relam started involuntarily as he realized that the trials were, in fact, scheduled for the very next day. “Yes, thank you, Aven,” he managed, smiling tightly.
The boy retreated to the outer room and Relam sank onto his bed, thinking furiously. The trials, tomorrow! Between his battle with his father and Aven’s new job he had somehow forgotten they were so close now. Was he ready? Should he go back to the courtyard and practice more?
Relam stopped abruptly, shaking his head to clear it. “You’re ready,” he told himself firmly. “You just need rest so you are in top condition for tomorrow.”
With that thought fixed in the front of his mind, the prince lay back and slept until dinner.
When Relam emerged from his room for the evening meal, his parents were waiting, sitting together in front of the hearth. A cheerful fire danced around a small mound of branches and sticks.
“How do you feel?” his father asked tersely.
Relam shrugged uneasily. “I guess I’m ready,” he said eventually. “Everyone
