“Well, I hope the lead turns out to be helpful,” Relam said, looking around. “But we should be going. We’ve already lingered too long here.”
“Yes,” Narin agreed quickly. “Go. I’ll get in touch somehow if I make any progress on this.”
“Thanks,” Relam said. “I’m going to miss you, Narin.”
“And I you, my prince,” the former commander embraced Relam warmly. “Be careful,” he whispered before pulling away. “The murderers are still on the loose, and I fear that your father’s judgement is skewed. These are dangerous times, your highness. Do not become a victim of them.”
Then, the former commander pulled back, shook hands with the four men he had once commanded, and trudged off to the north, quickly disappearing amidst the swirling, driving rain.
Chapter 25
The return trip was much easier. There was less worrying about whether they would be caught, less struggling with the heavy body bag. There was more rain, but Relam would take bad weather over the anxiety of the last hour and a half any day. By the time they returned to the palace, Relam and his four guards were thoroughly soaked, cold, and miserable. But there was also a wonderful feeling of triumph within each of them, for they knew they had just accomplished something spectacular. They had saved Narin, and no one was the wiser.
The guards stopped outside the royal suite, leaving Relam to face his father on his own. The prince entered the room calmly, acting a little subdued as he turned and closed the door quietly. The acting was all for naught though, as his father was not in the main room.
Taking this as a good sign, Relam went into his own room and took a hot bath, then dressed in dry clothes and hung the wet ones up to dry. As he lay back on his bed to rest for just a moment, he realized that for the first time since his mother’s death he felt optimistic He was also motivated. He had something to live for, and a hope that the situation would improve soon.
As he thought about what the future might hold, he drifted into a light sleep, waking guiltily an hour later. Scratching his head ruefully, the prince stood and went to the window, where rain was still pounding the glass in terrific bursts of manic energy as the wind gusted and swirled. He shivered as he thought of Narin, alone and without shelter somewhere beyond the city.
He can take care of himself, Relam thought quietly, sitting down at his desk.
Now that the deed was accomplished, Relam wondered what he would do with his time. Today was the third day of the week, which made tomorrow the fourth. A sparring day, if Cevet showed up. Earlier, Relam would not have had the heart or energy to spar. But with his recent success and the pride of having done something, he felt he could take on the world.
As he had the thought, Relam realized that this was exactly the kind of energy he would need. His training with Oreius was to start the first day of the next week at the seventh hour at the warrior’s house, which meant that Relam needed to be in shape and ready to learn.
The next morning, Relam rose early, nearly as early as he had in his days as one of Tar’s students. He had eaten and left the royal suite before his father was even awake, and he reached Tar’s facility before the sun had even started to brighten the eastern horizon. The sword master was just opening the gate when Relam arrived.
“Relam!” he called, clearly surprised. “What are you doing here so early? Couldn’t sleep?”
“No, I slept well enough,” Relam replied, smiling. “It’s the fourth day of the week.”
“Yes, but Cevet won’t be here for a while yet,” Tar countered, ushering Relam into the compound. “Getting some work in ahead of time?”
“I need to,” Relam replied. “I start with Oreius on the first day of the next week.”
Tar’s eyebrows shot up. “I’d forgotten about that,” he muttered. “Well, good luck, your highness. It’s been a long time since Oreius accepted a student. I hope he isn’t too hard on you.”
“I hope he is,” Relam replied. “It would take my mind off of . . . other things.”
Tar nodded sympathetically. “I know what you mean, lad. Death is a hard thing to come to terms with. But it happens to all of us sooner or later. The good, the evil. The rich, and the poor. No one is exempt from the end.”
“Yeah,” Relam muttered. “I’m still not used to it.”
“It takes time,” the sword master agreed. “But you’ll get there, someday.”
“I’d better get started,” Relam said, eager to change the subject. “And you have classes to prepare for.”
“Yes, I do,” Tar said absently, frowning. “I think they’ll start mock combats today.”
“That should be interesting,” Relam said, grinning as he drew his sword.
The sword master nodded eagerly. “Yes, they’re making good progress, all of them. Including the boy you recommended to me, Aven.”
“He is catching up?”
“Faster than I had hoped. It’s amazing the difference a year of hard work can make. I may switch him to this group soon, but don’t tell him I’ve said anything. I don’t want any of the cadets thinking I’ve gone soft.”
“Not a word,” Relam promised, taking up a ready stance.
“Blade a little higher,” Tar said quickly. Relam made the adjustment and looked back at the sword master. “Sorry,” Tar said with a grin, holding his hands up, palms outward. “I’m afraid I’m hardwired to be a teacher at this point.”
“That’s not such a bad thing,” Relam mused.
“No,” Tar said, glancing towards the gate. A few of his students were
