Peta picks Alex up outside his room late enough in the morning for Alex to feel that he got to lie in late, but still early enough to go to breakfast. His bed was every bit as comfortable as it looked and resulted in an excellent and dreamless night of rest. They chose to breakfast in the guardroom, free from the formality and etiquette that eating with the royal family might bring.

Both the quality and quantity of food were exceptional, enough to make Alex feel slightly conscious of how much he managed to put away.

Right after breakfast, Peta leads Alex out into the training yard, where Brion and Garvan are both already waiting for them. Garvan and a few of the other guards were watching as Brion practiced with his bow. Even Alex had to concede that the man was very, very good indeed. Whether taking slow aim or drawing instantly on a called target, he didn’t seem capable of missing.

“Not a skill you share, Garvan?” Alex asks as he approaches the group.

“Sadly, no. I can shoot well enough, better than many, but I don’t have that sort of skill. I’m better with a sword and much better with this.” His hand indicates a wicked-looking hatchet hanging from a loop at his belt. As Brion steps away from his mark, Garvan steps forward. In one fluid motion he draws the throwing axe. It seems to leap upwards in his grip as he releases it at the nearest target. It seems to spin only once and then thuds into the ring and holds deep with the handle not far off horizontal.

“Not bad,” Alex tells him as he steps to his side. A knife appears in his hand, dropping as if by magic from his right sleeve. With a flick of the wrist it flies towards the target, sticking point-first into the hard wood of the end of Garvan’s axe handle. There are one or two gasps from the assembled guards.

“Do you have another,” Brion asks him, accepting the proffered identical knife from the left sleeve. He tosses it in his hand a couple of times before throwing it, thudding into the centre of the target right next to the axe-head. “Nice knife,” he tells Alex with a grin.

“We’ll manage, I think,” Alex tells them as they walk to retrieve blades, axe and arrows. “How well do the two of you know Catheon and the Prince?”

“Only in passing,” Brion tells him. “They spend all their time in study and reflection. They don’t really seem to have much time for the common staff or the guards.”

“I taught the prince the basics of the sword,” Garvan adds. “Not that he was a very willing pupil. He knows which end is the dangerous one, but little more than that. He’s certainly not keen enough to wear one.”

“I see. Well, we’ll have to change that outlook, at least to some degree. We intend to travel as a group, companions as much as anything, at least to the outside observer. It sounds like this will need some considerable work on the part of the prince.”

“Will you speak to him about it, or do we need to talk to his Majesty?” Peta asks.

“I’ll mention it when I meet them later. If I can’t get any sense out of him, I’ll speak to the King about it myself.”

“As you wish,” Peta tells him. “What is the plan for the rest of the morning?”

“Do you have practice blades? I could do with working out and I haven’t done any sword work for a few days,” Alex tells him with a smile. “Sitting in Bertran’s inn and eating Sidra’s cooking is a bad thing for anyone to do for long.”

Alex practices with the men for a couple of hours, working the formal sword forms first to warm up and then sparring with several of the younger guards. Peta and Garvan watch him at work while Brion continues to practice with the bow. 

“He’s bloody good,” Garvan mutters quietly from the edge of the ground as Alex disarms two men in as many seconds. “Better than I’ll ever be.”

“Exactly as advertised,” Peta tells him. “I think he’s better than I am as well. Wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side and come up against him in a proper fight, at any rate.”

“We could both have a go?”

“Hey, Alex, stop beating up on the kids!” Peta calls out when they break apart again.

“Sure, but who else?”

“Well, there’s always Garvan and myself?”

The guards fall back into a loose ring around the three men as they approach the centre of the yard. There’s a fair amount of pushing and shoving as everyone wants to see the fight. They move warily around a common centre, gauging the movement of their opponents. Garvan moves first, feinting to the right before reversing his cut up to this left, aiming for a high body hit.

Alex ducks to dodge the blow, his body flowing smoothly and precisely, blocking a downward stroke from Peta at the same time as turning neatly and touching a slightly off-balance Garvan on the back of the neck with exacting precision. Continuing his turn he meets another swinging upward stroke from Peta on the side of his wooden blade and follows up with a twisting, turning riposte that brings the tip of his blade in to touch Peta right in the centre of his chest.

“Bugger me,” Garvan mutters as the younger guards cheer the sudden end of the fight.

“Not my type,” Alex tells him with a grin as he lowers his practice blade and relaxes. “Don’t worry, I was warmed up and you were cold. Better luck next time.”

“Come, Alex,” Peta tells him with a smile. “Let’s shower before lunch.”

“Shower?”

“Oh, another one of Catheon’s water-using inventions. Trust me, you’ll appreciate it after a good workout on a warm day.”

Peta leads Alex and the other men towards the barracks and into what turns out to be the washroom and locker-room. It’s actually two large spaces, the first filled with a few benches in the middle and divisions around the sides where clothing and weapons can be stored. A door opposite the entrance leads through to another large space.

The whole end of this room that isn’t made up of latrine stalls is partitioned off as one large space. The walls have been plastered and painted and the floor is made of dark red pottery tiles that appear to slope slightly to a drain along the centre.

Suspended from the ceiling are more than half a dozen brass fittings that appear to be broad flat disks with many small holes pierced in them.

“Another one of Master Catheon’s creations, I’m afraid,” Peta tells Alex as he begins to undress. “There’s a large water tank on the roof that’s covered with a cover that is mostly glass. It catches the rainwater from the roofs of half of the castle. The sun heats the water to a reasonable temperature and there’s enough of it to stay that way.”

One of the young guards, unconcerned by his now nakedness, walks over to another one of those valves in the wall and, as he turns it from horizontal to vertical, the water begins to flow out of the brass fittings in a rainfall cascade.

Grabbing bars of soap, young men dash under the falling water to bathe. There are a few momentary gasps at the relative coolness of the water, but soon this is forgotten in the relaxing flow. Alex joins them warily, trying his best to not look below chest height. The last thing he wants is for his body to give him away.

“I think I prefer a bath,” Alex tells Peta as they are dressing, “but it was a pleasant way to cool down and more civilised than standing out under a waterfall.” 

Peta shows Alex how to get into the private garden after lunch, as the time to meet with the tutor and the prince is fast approaching. This enclosed area is exquisite. Great care has clearly been taken with the choice of plants and the ornamentation. The beds are a riot of early colour and here and there statues of incredible beauty serve as focal points for the view of the observer. The whole space, actually quite small, appears much bigger than it is because of the clever uses of perspective, planted hedges low walls and fences dividing the space.

Alex finds a comfortable bench, one of four at the centre of the space and takes a seat. His wait, filled with the scent of the flowers around him and the quiet call of numerous songbirds is a relaxing one. He allows himself to close his eyes and absorb his environment, totally at ease.

Catheon has the sense to make a noise as he and the prince approach. This is enough to rouse Alex from his reverie without making him react in any sudden way. Slowly he opens his eyes and smiles guardedly at the approaching men.

“Forgive me, Alex,” Catheon tells him as they approach and sit on the same bench. “We didn’t mean to disturb your enjoyment of the space.”

“Not at all, Catheon. You are on time and I’ve really no time to sit doing idle. I sense the hand of the queen on the space. It is beautiful.”

“You wished to speak with us about our journey, Varga,” the prince begins with too much formality.

“Indeed, highness,” Alex begins, just as formal. “There are things that must be made clear before we leave.”

“I am listening.”

Catheon manages to glance at Alex from beneath his brow but remains silent. There’s a hint of disapproval in his gaze that seems to be directed towards the prince.

“Where to begin,” Alex starts after a moment of thought. “Oh, yes, formality. These words just spoken will be the last time we address one-another this formally until the end of the journey. Our safety demands that we appear to be ordinary travellers, neither particularly rich or desperately poor. We will be travelling as a group of traders and must appear familiar.”

“Catheon, your name is possibly too well known locally to work, do you have any suggestions?”

“Well, when I was younger, my friends often called me Cato – I don’t mind answering to that. Haven’t done so for many years, but it is familiar and easy to remember.”

“Perfect. Cato it is from now on. Just to be clear, I am Alex to my friends. Peta, Brion and Garvan will also be on first-name terms with all of us.”

“What?” the prince mutters. “I must call the guards by their first names?”

“Yes, you must. Your life and theirs may depend on it. More yours than theirs, I fear, Jamethon.”

“Well, if we must maintain this ridiculous charade, then you should all call me Jamie.”

“Good. That’s more the spirit. I do understand that this will be harder for you than it will for the rest of us, but this expedition will almost certainly fail if any of us make a mistake.”

“I also understand, Alex, but I assure you that I can protect myself.”

“I know.”

“What exactly does that mean? What do you know?”

“I have the sense. I sensed you building magic at dinner last night and just how powerful you are. I know also that your mother did so too and that is why she interrupted you and your brother.”

The prince looks a little dumbstruck by this revelation, but Cato is not so surprised. “It is a rare gift, the sense of magic. Rare and advantageous. It is also not normally the only trait that such a gifted person has. Forgive me, Alex, do you have other magic?”

“Not that I’ve ever been aware of, but I am always lucky. Dice and cards play to my advantage more often than pure chance would allow.”

“And fights?”

“Yes, fights as well. Something gives me the slightest of edges, but that’s all I need.”

“And Peta, as I understand it, senses steel?”

“Yes. He found my belt-knife and I could feel the slightest hint of magic when he did so.”

“Useful in a guard captain.”

“Now, Jamie. I need to know what your magic can do. I have no intention of allowing you to use it unless it is an emergency, but I need to be aware of the possibilities.”

The prince looks more than reluctant to speak, fidgeting with the collar of his tunic and looking anywhere but at Alex.

“It’s okay, Jamie,” Cato tell shim softly. “Alex is right. He needs to know to make sure that he can protect us.”

“I know, Cato. I know. Mother has always made me keep my power a secret. That’s one of the reasons why I don’t leave the castle very often or travel much.”

“I’m assuming you get your powers from her?”

“Yes, but my abilities seem much stronger. My magic is quite powerful, but also quite specific. Beyond that, I have no idea of my limits. I can move objects – and have done so with large rocks, carts and the like. I have the power to make an impenetrable shield, maybe big enough to protect a dozen men or more and can bind a person to make them immobile at will.”

“And you also have limitations?”

“Yes. I must be able to see the thing or person I am affecting. I need light and line of sight, but distance otherwise is no real barrier.”

“Well, I am glad you are being honest with me. Your skills are an asset. I still hope to not need to call on you, but I will if I must. Be reassured that you can leave the harm of others to the rest of us.”

“That’s not entirely what I wanted to hear, Alex,” Jamie manages with the first hint of a smile that Alex has seen him attempt since they met.

“Perhaps not, but it is honest. We will run into trouble at some point. If others know what we plan, they will try to stop us.”

“Now for some details. We will travel by horseback. Talk of the dire quality of the highways was not misplaced. I’m assuming you can both ride, but we will start off slowly to get everyone comfortable with long days in the saddle.”

“We will also be travelling as lightly as possible. There will only be three or four pack-horses between the six of us and you, Jamie, must dress down to match the rest of us. I do understand from Peta that this is already in hand.”

“Yes, the tailor has made me some very plain stuff. It’s detestable.”

“Maybe, but it is safe.”

“Then I will accept it with good grace.”

“Whenever possible, we will find an inn for the night, but this will not be possible every night, not by a long shot, and we will have to camp. I can’t prevent it and you’ll just have to accept it.”

“I will probably find this difficult,” Jamie mutters.

“I know. Just remember that we are all in the same situation and there is nothing to be ashamed of or worried about. Four of us are soldiers and used to the hardship, but we won’t make things any more difficult than they need to be. Also remember that a little coarse language and the occasional jest isn’t meant maliciously. Play along and give as good as you get. They are good, honest men and a little teasing of a newcomer is normal to them. It’s their way of trying to help you to fit in.”

“You think the guards will tease me?”

“Without mercy, but also without malice. They have the not entirely unreasonable opinion that you are soft, privileged and protected. Only you can change that. I will not let things get out of hand. Just remember that they are not as worldly as they might think. I, however, am.”

“Then I am ready to travel west with you.”