“Jatt’s father?”
“Yes,” Clemon said in response to Relam’s question. “He is very close with the Garenes family, of course.”
“Of course,” Relam muttered scowling.
“Not many others of note here,” Clemon continued. “I shouldn’t think more than six or seven from the Assembly will show your majesty.”
“The fewer the better,” Orram muttered, picking up his sandwich again. “Clemon, have you been hearing anything about this mess? Prior to today I mean?”
“Not really,” the chatelain replied, shrugging. “Which is rather unusual. I have been out of the city for a few days - that border dispute in the swamplands, you know - so that might be part of it. But usually I hear of any disturbances long before it reaches you. Something like this I would have expected to know about days in advance. When I left the city, the Assembly was fairly calm, considering how they normally are. It would have taken a significant event to prompt this, I think.”
“You haven’t done anything especially negligent lately have you, your majesty?” Narin asked with a slight smile.
Relam’s father snorted. “No. I can’t imagine what has set this in motion. I knew they were dissatisfied . . . but this is bordering on rebellious.”
Relam’s heart froze momentarily at that. Rebellious? What was there to rebel about? The kingdom was at peace, there were no significant foes within or without, and the largest issues really were not that meaningful in the grand scheme of things.
“It’s probably just the usual bellyaching, fancied up a bit to get a response out of you,” Clemon concluded. “Nothing to be overly concerned about.” He stood and rolled the scroll up, tucking it into a pocket concealed inside his robes. “Don’t forget your majesty, tomorrow is a court day-”
“Of course it is,” Relam’s father muttered, picking up his sandwich again.
“- and next week taxes are due to arrive from the southern cities.”
“That’s better,” the king observed, chewing quietly.
“Yes, but I’m afraid that trade is still severely disrupted in many areas of the kingdom, particularly the southern sea, and along the Furnier. Those bandits, they really are getting out of control. Wouldn’t hurt to-”
“Marc,” the king said patiently. “Can this wait?”
“Well, maybe, but-”
“It can wait,” the king decided. “Let me eat my lunch in peace. I will be with you immediately afterwards.”
Clemon wilted slightly, then recovered enough to bow. “Yes, your majesty. Shall I fetch the latest finance reports in the meantime?”
“Certainly,” Orram grunted. “That should just about make my day.”
The chatelain, with no sign that he had noticed the sarcastic tone of the king’s last comment, retreated quickly to the corridor, closing the door.
Relam stared at his father, who was calmly working through his lunch as though nothing had happened. Then, he abruptly shoved back from the table, his appetite gone.
“I’ll see you at dinner,” he said brusquely, grabbing his sword from his room.
“Where are you going, your highness?” Narin asked, getting to his feet.
“Out,” Relam replied, pulling the door open.
“Where to?” Narin repeated.
Relam paused by the outer door. “I don’t really know,” he admitted.
“I have a suggestion,” the king said.
“And that is?”
“You have nothing to do this week, yes?”
“Yes.”
The king turned to Narin. “I think Relam could take care of that little item we were discussing in one week, don’t you?”
“It’s risky,” Narin murmured, glancing at Relam. “He’s inexperienced.”
“Then go with him, or send someone with him,” the king suggested.
“Who?”
Relam folded his arms across his chest. “Why don’t you tell me what and then we can decide who. And, while we’re at it, it would be nice to know where and what for as well.”
The king snorted. “Right. Well, I rather thought you might fancy taking a hundred cavalrymen and clearing out some of the bandits in the Midwood.”
Relam waited for his father to tell him what he had really been asking for, waited for Narin to object. Waited for someone to say that this was all a joke. Finally, he realized none of those things were going to happen.
“You’re serious?” he said, just to be sure.
“Wouldn’t bring it up if I wasn’t,” the king replied. “Thing is, Narin and I received intelligence today from one of our informers. He knows a man who knows someone else who knows a trader who used to trade north and south through the Midwood. Anyway, this trader was captured by the bandits. They meant to wring information from him as to when more shipments from his business were due to pass through the area. But he escaped in the night and made his way back here to Etares.”
“So we know where their camp is,” Relam said, interested.
“Yes,” Narin agreed. “And their numbers, how well armed they are and how defensible their position is.”
“And you want me to take care of them?”
“If you feel you’re up to the task.”
Relam started to accept the mission, then stopped. He noticed Narin’s tight expression, and remembered the first mission he had chosen himself for, the hunting of the assassins. His overconfidence and inexperience had lost lives that night, and could do so again if he wasn’t careful.
“I’m honored,” Relam said carefully. “But I don’t think I am ready.” He saw his father’s frown first, then Narin’s nod of approval. It was that gesture that told Relam he had made the right choice. “I’d still like to go,” he added quickly. “And maybe be in command, but I want someone along to advise me and help me figure out how to do this right. After all, I’ve never fought a real battle. I’ve never planned for one. I’ve never led a charge or studied tactics or pored over records of old battle strategies and military history. But there are people who have, and they
