Relam winced at this unwelcome piece of news. “I suppose I’ll have to apologize to him again,” he muttered. “Any chance of some more light in here? I can’t see much of anything.”
“It is the middle of a moonless night at the moment,” one of the guards informed him. “I can fetch another lantern if you want.”
Relam nodded. “That would be appreciated. I can’t even see you lot properly.”
The guard hurried out of the room. Relam tried to sit up again, but his head swam. “Can you do anything about this?” he asked the healer, gesturing to his head.
The healer nodded quickly. “Yes, I have a few things that might help. Just a headache, right?”
“Yeah, throbs every time I try to move,” Relam muttered, wincing.
The healer produced his satchel and rummaged in it for a moment. Finally, he came up with a small bottle of an amber liquid. He set it to one side, then scooped up a glass of water from the bedside table. He added three drops of the amber liquid, then handed it to Relam.
“That should help,” he said by way of explanation.
Relam took the glass and drained it. He tasted nothing but water, and his headache did not lessen. “That doesn’t seem to have helped,” he observed, tilting the empty glass.
The healer shook his head impatiently. “It takes a few moments, your highness. Has to work its way into your system before it can take full effect.”
“Oh,” Relam replied, setting the glass on the bedside table again.
They waited in the dim room for another moment, then the guard was back with a shielded lantern. Feeble golden light filtered through the room, throwing strange shadows across the walls. Relam shifted position slightly, trying to get more comfortable, then looked up at Narin.
“You want to hear my story now?”
Narin nodded. “The sooner you give me the facts, the sooner I can began hunting these . . . murderers, your highness.” His tone left no doubt that he was still frankly skeptical of the young prince’s claim.
Relam snorted, and started to speak, then glanced at the open door. “Shut that,” he said quickly. “We need to keep this quiet for now, or we’ll spook the conspirators into hiding or running. I’d prefer they didn’t know we were hunting them.”
Narin nodded and closed the door himself, throwing the bolt to prevent anyone from entering. “All right, your highness. We can talk freely now.”
The young prince moved into a sitting position, sliding his hips back carefully and leaning against the wall. This time, there was no resultant flash of pain from his head. “Excellent,” he murmured, rolling his stiff neck.
“I was downstairs in the banquet hall-”
“You were where?”
Relam glared at Narin. “Do you want me to tell this story or not, commander?”
“I’m sorry, your highness,” Narin said quickly. “It’s just that I was surprised to hear you were at the Assembly’s feast.”
“I wasn’t at the feast,” Relam clarified. “I went down there looking for Aven. He was working a shift with the kitchens last night because they were short of help. The feast was over by the time I got down there and the servers were clearing up. I found Aven cleaning one of the tables.”
“Nobody recognized you?” Narin asked, brow furrowed.
“I wasn’t advertising my presence,” Relam replied. “And they had already been told the royal family would not make an appearance. Nobody expected to see me and so they didn’t.”
“Interesting,” Narin murmured. “That observation could prove useful in the future. Carry on, your highness.”
“Thank you,” Relam said with exaggerated politeness. “Anyway, I found Aven and we talked for a bit about training, how my mother was doing, other things. We were on our way back through the kitchens when we heard two voices coming from an adjoining corridor that is largely unused. They sounded suspicious so we went to check it out. Carefully,” he added, seeing Narin’s disapproving glare.
“That was rather foolish,” the guard commander said scathingly.
Relam shrugged. “What we learned was worth it. The two men were arguing over something. One addressed the other as ‘my lord’, so we think they were nobles.”
“Attendees at the banquet?” Narin asked curiously.
“That seems likely,” Relam agreed.
The guard commander produced a sheet of parchment and began taking notes, kneeling and resting the sheet on his thigh as he scribbled.
“One of them murmured all the time,” Relam recalled. “Real quiet-like. His words were hard to make out as a result. He had failed the other man and was trying to placate him.”
“Was one of them master over the other?” Narin asked, writing hurriedly.
Relam thought about this for a moment, then shook his head. “I would say they were equal,” he said finally. “Neither threatened the other. They were mostly bickering really.”
“Hmm. You said one of them murmured all the time. What about the other?”
“He hissed. Every word sounded like . . . like a snake.”
“Fitting, I suppose,” Narin muttered.
“He was angry, and frustrated,” Relam continued. “Said that the murmuring man should have had the job finished a long time ago. That he had wasted a full year and delayed his plans.”
“Did he say what the plans were?”
“No,” Relam said.
Narin sighed heavily, disappointed. “I suppose that was too much to hope for.”
“There’s more,” Relam said urgently, turning and propping himself up with his right arm. “They’ve been trying to kill a woman for a full year. The murmuring one asked the other if it was necessary to kill the woman. The hissing man replied that it was, that ‘it would destroy him, make him an easier target’.”
Narin looked up, sitting back a little at that. “That is interesting,” he agreed, looking around the room. “Very interesting.” He consulted the parchment, then looked up at Relam.
