and left the room without a word.
“I thought Sam was Elizabeth at first,” Sath said when she’d gone.
Thomas frowned, a look of pride and hurt mixed together on his face. “At times I become confused myself,” he answered and then his frown deepened. “You can not stay,” he added, and sat next to Sath. He reached out and took Sath’s left hand in his, to try to soften his words.
“I know,” Sath answered. “I’m only planning on a few days and then I will head for Koshka.”
“Koshka?”
Sath nodded. “It is close enough to the mountains for escape if need be, and far enough from the Scar Ridge that it is not likely to get much notice from the Zani. If you are to send any of our passing soldiers to find me, send them there.”
Thomas nodded then gave a forced smile. “I’m glad you came. Tell me everything,” Thomas said as Murl, the best cook in three counties entered, and greeted the former Weapons Master of Massi.
IV
Gwaynn was dressing in clothes given to him by the doctor when the High Tar of Noble Island entered the room.
“Ah, you are awake already. That is good. I am Amon. I would like to walk with you,” he said standing before Gwaynn, who studied him silently. The High Tar was old, but not ancient. He had long silvery hair, tied behind him in a single tail, as was the style of the Tars. He was not overly tall, but neither was he short. His skin was deeply tanned and had some wrinkles, but there was evidence of muscle beneath the skin, though he looked neither quick nor strong. His bright crystal blue eyes were the only feature even remarkable about him; otherwise he looked like any number of men past their prime and heading quickly toward old age.
Gwaynn said nothing, suddenly nervous, but the High Tar waited patiently for him to finish dressing.
“You are feeling better?” Amon asked as he led the way of out of the room. Gwaynn looked about curiously. He arrived at the infirmary unconscious and had not left the room since his arrival. He was surprised to find that the door to his room opened into a much larger one, containing a great number of beds, two of which were currently occupied by young men, both of whom stared at Gwaynn with curiosity. Amon paid them no mind and silently led Gwaynn across the room and out a set of double doors.
They stepped outside and into the beginning of a bright and beautiful day. Gwaynn blinked at the sunshine, not accustomed to its’ intensity after nearly a week indoors. Amon led him down a manicured path of small pebbles, and silently let the boy study his current surroundings. There were numerous buildings in the immediate area, most in the opposite direction from which they were heading. All of them were made of stone, and newly white washed. Most were smaller than the infirmary, but one was much grander. It was on the far side of the courtyard, and was several stories tall. Four mighty columns supported the portico, and carved into the eave, near the top were several statues of what Gwaynn took to be past Masters.
Amon, however, was leading him away from the courtyard. They headed down a steep incline toward the beach and the sea beyond. Now, without the chasing Zani, or the threatening storm, the Inland Sea was beautiful beyond words. The water was calm; a clear blue-green with small waves gently breaking on the white sands below. The sea seemed so tranquil that Gwaynn found it hard to believe that just a week ago, this same sea was trying desperately to kill him.
“You are feeling better?” Amon asked once more when they reached the sand. They walked toward the water and then turned south.
Gwaynn suddenly realized that the High Tar had already asked him this question once, and that he had not answered. He felt his face grow hot.
“Yes…yes I’m feeling much better. Thank you,” Gwaynn answered.
“I am glad,” Amon replied. They walked a good distance in silence, Gwaynn just waiting for the Tar to speak once more. Amon smiled after a bit. Pugg was correct. The boy was very reserved.
“You have been with us over a week now,” Amon began, and Gwaynn became suddenly alert. “But you are healing rapidly. It will soon be time for you to go.”
Again Gwaynn said nothing. His mind was buzzing with the possibilities of where he would go, what he would do. He had no idea what would become of him. He was sure that if he left the Temple Islands the Zani would hunt him down, and eventually find him. He had to make sure that did not happen until he was ready to be found.
“I can not stay then?” Gwaynn asked.
“Stay?” Amon asked.
“Yes,” Gwaynn replied.
Tar Amon shook his head. “In order to attend the Island you must have been invited and your presence approved by the High King.”
Gwaynn was silent for a time while they walked along the water line, weaving slightly so that they came higher up the beach when a wave threatened to soak their feet. “Perhaps I can serve, help with the livestock, maintenance, anything?”
“Our support personnel are actually part of families that have been on the Island for countless generations,” Amon began. “It would be highly irregular to admit someone from the outside, highly irregular indeed.”
“An exception could be made though?” Gwaynn asked hopefully.
“There are always exceptions,” Amon answered with a smile. “But for what reason? Would it be made just to save a fisherman’s son from the drudgery of his former life?”
Gwaynn said nothing.
“You have not told us anything about who you are,” Amon observed. “Should an exception be made for an unknown?”
Gwaynn thought about this for such a long time that Amon began to believe that the boy would indeed stay silent.
“It may be dangerous for you to know who I am,” Gwaynn finally answered, impressing the High Tar.
“It is a very dangerous time,” the Tar replied as they continued down the beach. “And there is risk for us in either case is there not?”
Gwaynn still admitted nothing; in his mind admitting who he was increased his own danger many times over.
“Prince Gwaynn was said to have escaped the Deutzani attack on the Massi,” Tar Amon stated in an even tone. “King Arsinol Deutzani was said to be livid, even killing several of those in charge of the offensive.”
Gwaynn’s head jerked up and looked at the High Master of the Island. Amon held his hands up, palms out, hoping to calm the boy. “Who was killed?” Gwaynn asked and actually took a menacing step toward the Tar, who was not intimidated.
Amon shrugged at the question. “A few lieutenants, but no one of any real importance. King Arsinol cannot afford to give anyone of real value up at this time.”
“Why? Will the High King intervene once more?” Gwaynn said his voice rising in anger.
Amon frowned. Could it be possible that the boy was aware of the High King’s rash decision? If so the boy may indeed have to die, otherwise chaos could be charging down on them all. As he silently studied the determined young man, Amon realized that the boy’s death would not come at his hands, or any Master under him. “What do you mean by that remark?”
“The Zani could not have defeated my father so easily without the help of the High King and his Temple Knights,” Gwaynn stated his voice low and calm.
