Relam then turned left, onto the River Road, which ran parallel to the northern branch of the Furnier from the point where it joined the sea. To the left stood manor after manor, beautiful estates surrounded by carefully kept lawns and gardens. To the right was a row of towering shop houses, narrow but solid and stable. The ground floors were stores, the upper floors rented dwellings for the store owners and other families.
Then, after that first stretch of shop houses, came the Citadel. Dark and imposing, it loomed over all else. The Citadel was built entirely of gray stone, from the gatehouse all the way to the tallest towers. Dozens of guards were on constant patrol, on the walls, on the roofs of the towers, and a full squadron at the entrance. The leader of the squadron was talking quietly with a hooded man. Relam frowned at this but moved on, not letting the strange sight distract him from his goal.
Finally, just a little ways past the end of the Citadel, he reached Tar Agath’s training facility. The double doors were sealed, blocking his way. Leaning against the frame was Cevet.
“Not allowed in yet,” he said by way of greeting. “Master Agath told me to tell the rest of you that when you arrive.”
Relam nodded silently and took up a position opposite Cevet, leaning against the stone wall, one foot tucked up underneath him. “Did he say anything else?” he asked.
Cevet shook his head. “No. Just said we were to wait out here until he gave the word.”
They stood there in silence for a few minutes, neither having much to say and both being preoccupied with what was to come. Relam was trying to divine the reason behind Master Agath forcing them to wait. Normally, the doors would be open starting at dawn and they could enter whenever they arrived. Was he testing their patience this morning? Or had he set up something related to the trials in the central courtyard and did not want any early arrivals to have an unfair advantage?
“If this is a test of our patience, I can’t wait to see Garenes fail,” Cevet remarked casually, breaking in on Relam’s thoughts.
The prince nodded distractedly. “He’s not good at waiting. Or listening to instructions, for that matter.”
“He listens only to himself,” Cevet agreed, kicking at a paving stone with the toe of his boot. “Some would call it being individual.”
“But those who know better call it arrogance,” Relam said, grinning.
“Or self-centeredness or some other thing,” Cevet agreed. “You should have thrashed him when he attacked you. At the very least gotten him into some kind of trouble.”
Relam shook his head stubbornly. “I told you before. I’m not that kind of prince. I fight my own battles. I don’t rely on rank or who my parents are to win the day. I rely on my skills, be it diplomacy or more aggressive action.”
“While I admire that, someone needs to take Garenes to task. He is entirely-”
“Someone forget to open the gate?”
Cevet and Relam both jumped as Sebast spoke. The prince turned and saw the arrogant lordling ambling up with his usual crew of Delan, Jatt, and Knet. Jatt, as usual, looked vaguely confused, as though he wasn’t entirely sure he was in the right place. Knet appeared nervous, but Delan was openly sneering at Relam, confident and cocky as always. Even though he was never brave enough to take the lead himself.
“Master Agath has asked us to wait until he summons us,” Cevet explained calmly.
Sebast’s attention swung to the smaller cadet now. “Oh? Did he say why?”
“He said we were to wait,” Cevet repeated. “No more.”
“Huh. That’s no way to treat the sons of great lords,” Sebast muttered, glaring at the gates.
“Easy,” Knet warned, looking around anxiously. “He could be listening. And he’s the one who determines who moves on and who doesn’t. If we don’t pass the trials today, we will have to wait a full year before we can try again. And then we’d be a year behind and it’s so hard to catch up-”
“Tar would have to be a fool to fail me,” Sebast proclaimed. “Now, let’s see about getting this started.”
The lordling marched up to the gate and rapped politely. “Master Agath?”
There was no reply.
Sebast rapped again, harder. Still nothing. The lordling pursed his lips and tried a third time.
The doors remained silent and unmoving.
“I think that means we wait, as instructed,” Relam observed drily.
Cevet snorted with laughter, and Jatt chuckled witlessly. Sebast glared at them briefly, then returned his attention to the gate. He beat on it heavily, then cupped his hands around his mouth. “Master Agath? Can you let us in? The gate is locked.”
“Well obviously it’s locked,” Relam muttered. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be banging on it now would you? Honestly, Sebast, stop and think a moment.”
“Watch yourself, princeling,” Delan warned, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Or what?” Relam shot back, aware that he was starting to lose his temper.
“Calm down, both of you,” Knet hissed urgently. “This is no time to be fighting amongst ourselves! If Master Agath were here he’d-”
“Oh, he’s here. Probably taking in everything we’re doing and saying,” Cevet said, glancing at Sebast. The lordling was still doing his best to batter down the gate. Cevet shook his head and sat down, back to the wall, closing his eyes.
“Let us in! Do you hear me? I demand that you open this gate!” Sebast was screeching.
“Shove it,” Relam suggested, sitting down beside Cevet. “You can yell all you want, Sebast. It won’t make Master Agath open that door any sooner.”
Cevet opened the eye closer to the prince and winked, smiling smugly. Then he closed both eyes again and sighed heavily. “Meditating?” Relam asked curiously.
“Hardly. Meditation usually requires a quiet environment,”
