Everyone else does. When they don't call me useless, wastrel, or ne'er-do-well." He teetered, just a little, and Alaire gently pushed him upright. "I think I was an accident. I don't look like any of the family. Pe I was ..."
Alaire stood frozen in shock at the unasked for reve- lations, but Kai seemed to realize that he was babbling things he shouldn't and interrupted himself with a shrug.
"Well, probably not. Such things would be too much an embarrassment. I doubt they would have let me live. But yes, gods help Suinomen, I'll be king, whenever Father croaks."
Holy heavens, he despises his father and himself, and he doesn't care who knows it, Alaire thought with dismay. Assuming he's telling the truth. Could be, the ale has gone to his mind, so he thinks he's a prince. But everything else certainly fits. His eyebrows raised when he noticed the boy's ring, a chunky, gold piece that flashed when the candle-light caught it just right.
The large letter "A" A simplified version of the Arche- nomen Coat of Arms I saw hanging over the King's throne. Perhaps he is the Prince after all.
Then again, maybe he was only what Alaire was pretending to be; a royal bastard.
I might as well keep talking to him, whether he is or not. Even a drunk having grand delusions can supply a lot of interesting information.
"The good news is," the boy continued glibly, "I don't have to do a thing around here! Just have fun.
That's what he ordered me to do, anyway; have fun, don't poke my nose into politics or business, and stay out of his way."
Alaire wondered just how much to share with Kai.
At home, a prince did more than just "have fun."
Derek, the Crown Prince of Althea and the oldest of the brothers, took a personal interest in the affairs of the nation. After all, he would eventually be in charge of it. What better way to learn a job than to do it?
From the age of thirteen Derek had been in on coun- cil meetings, inspected the Palace Guard regularly, and in general kept abreast of everything going on.
Including, Alaire assumed, this little trip their father sent them on.
Alaire regarded the drunk lad before him, and found it difficult to imagine his caring about the affairs of Suinomen.
"Is that all you do?' Alaire asked. He seems to be in quite a talkative mood. Why not encourage it?
"Just about," Kai replied. Alaire eyed a marble bench nearby, considered moving closer to it, in Kai should need to sit down. "Father told me to stay out of his business, so I do. They don't let me do any- thing involving the kingdom, or the Guard. And nobody in the kingdom will have anything to do with me, except Captain Lyam and Sir Jehan."
Remember those names. They could be impor Alaire thought. Though it is starting to look like Kai might be a dead end for inside information, there is a lot of general information I could get from him.
Things the whole court knows, but we don't. For instance, why do they want to invade Althea?
"Well, Alaire," Kai said, slapping his shoulder. "How would you like to flee all this pompous nonsense and go see some real entertainment?"
Well.. . why not?
"Sure, Kai," Alaire said, cautiously. "But I really need to inform my Master that I'll be going, first."
"Oh, you'll do nothing of the sort," Kai said, good- naturedly. "You'll get us both into trouble and someone will probably stop us. I'll have one of the ser- vants tell him for us, after we're gone."
That didn't exactly sound like a good idea. "Well...
I don't know about this...."
But he had protested too late. "Come on," Kai said joyfully, grabbing Alaire by the wrist. "This place is getting boring anyway."
Reluctantly, Alaire let the boy lead him away. He had both bad and good feelings about this. Good, because he knew he would learn something about this bizarre kingdom. Bad, because he could tell by the feral gleam in Kai's eye that they would both be rump- deep in trouble when they got back.
Assuming they didn't get rump-deep in trouble long before they got back.
"Got your sword with you?" Kai asked as they dashed down stone stairs at the end of the balcony, into the chill night.
Chap Kai had obviously planned the deceptively hasty get- away in advance. A royal carriage, lamplit at the four corners, and gilded like a maidens jewel-casket, was waiting for them just inside the palace walls. Har- nessed to it were two large dieren, stomping and snorting, eager to get underway. But despite the fin- ery, which left no doubt as to which family it belonged to, it was obvious as they drew nearer that the carriage had seen better days. Somewhat dented and worn, from the number of scrapes, splintered places, and missing bits of trim, it had apparently clipped many trees and lampposts. When Alaire saw the driver, a grubby sort of servant, in dark, rumpled clothes, clutching a leather wine flask, he knew why it looked that way. The driver looked to be as drunk as Kai.
Maybe drunker.
"Don't worry about him," Kai said, waving casually at the driver, who ignored them both. "He can find the taverns blindfolded"
"That's a relief," Alaire replied wryly, stepping into the carriage. The carriage lurched forward, and in a few moments it was careening down the hill at full "Father always does get angry when I take off from official events like this," Kai shouted over a deafening rattle, seating himself awkwardly in the shifting, sway- ing vehicle. "Says it embarrasses him for me to go off like this. With any luck no one will miss me. Ah, there it is!" Kai produced a leather flask and handed it gra- ciously to Alaire.
Glad I wore at least a thin coat to supper, Alaire thought, watching his frozen breath, visible even inside the carriage. Gods, Kai probably doesn't even feel the cold, in his condition. He braced himself in the frigid, plush seat, stained with wine and beer and who knew what else.
He took only a small sip and returned it. Not too bad. A red, fruity party wine. Just the thing for young, inexperienced tastes. Nothing like the wine he would have had at home, for supper. He respected good -- Naitachal would have killed him if he had simply gulped the stuff with no care for anything but alcohol content. And after that bout of sickness and hangover at thirteen, he had learned to respect what bad wine could do. Kai, naturally, took a long swallow of the decadent stuff. Probably strong, too. A quick, cheap drunk.
It was difficult to talk or drink, in the swaying vehi- cle. They rode for some time, while Kai did most of the babbling, sometimes shifting into his native lan- guage. Mostly useless blather, Alaire realized after a moment. Although it was hard to hear over the loud clatter. The wooden cage Kai had imprisoned him in was going full tilt, as fast as the dieren could go, Alaire guessed. Twice, huge potholes violently jostled the carriage contents, landing Alaire in the floor, and Kai on Alaire's lap, laughing hysterically. The rear axle made a strange grinding noise, which got louder as their journey progressed. What lethargy Alaire felt earlier had evaporated. Now his blood roared in his ears; he clutched the sides of the carriage and feared for his life.
"Whoooooeeee!" Kai said as the vehicle slowed to a halt, then gracelessly stopped. He tumbled onto the floor as the carriage lurched once more. "Wanta go back and do that again?"
Alaire, politely, but vehemently, refused. "No.