As he started to stand up again, another knock sounded just for show, since the door was immediately slammed open and Hanadan found himself staring at a faceless black hood attached to a very tall man bearing down on him.

"Shut the door, Corab!" ordered the intruder. "We need a little privacy here."

Hanadan couldn't find it in himself to do anything else but freeze. He barely registered a faint shuffle as the guard outside did as he'd been told and briefly wondered whether he was about to become the gullible victim of a far-reaching conspiracy. At a certain point, he became aware of his eyes stinging, so he began blinking again, but that was the full extent of his motions.

The figure had stopped a mere few paces away from his desk, panting heavily behind the thick headcover. Hanadan was just about to dare a question when the man suddenly dropped in height and he found himself staring dumbfoundedly at his own bodyguard's reddened face.

Hanadan had never seen Karuss look so haggard before, and that included his unfortunate overindulgence in wine at Eker's coronation, as well as the first time he'd actually met him - knuckle fighting his way out of a gambling debt in a back alley adjacent to one of the Jebrils' strong houses.

"Beg pardon, your lordship," said Karuss casually. "I can see that you're a bit tired, so this may not be the right time."

Hanadan knew he should have paid more attention to the sagging figure in his bodyguard's stubborn grip, but the truth was that he was utterly drained and had a difficult time following everything to its logical conclusion. In this case, he wasn't sure there even was one.

"I may be tired," he admitted, "but you look absolutely dreadful. What happened to you?"

"I can't imagine what you mean," replied Karuss with mock cheerfulness. "I'm as fine as fine can get. Who wouldn't be, after spending hours on end in His Illustrious Majesty's presence?"

At that point, the unfortunate third man started struggling against his captor as well as the length of rope tied around arms, letting out faint moans muffled by the hood, but Karuss simply tightened his grip and shook him until he fell silent again.

"Let me tell you," he went on as if nothing were amiss, "spending time with that friend of yours had been a revelation, in that it has revealed to me that I would rather shave my head and commit to a life of serving whatever god has job openings than go through that ever again."

"He's not that bad," muttered Hanadan before he could stop himself.

"What did you say?"

Hanadan cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"What did he do to you?" he asked instead, genuinely curious.

Karuss scoffed and finally let the stranger drop to the floor so that he could place his hands on his hips and glare accusingly at Hanadan.

"He talked," he replied drily. "And talked, and talked, and talked some more, all the way up to the glade and back. If you're gonna ask me what he was saying, I'm sorry to tell you that when I wasn't listening, I was actively trying to forget, which was very difficult considering that he asked for my opinion after every sentence."

Hanadan arched an eyebrow, itching to point out that the reason he didn't have to ask for Karuss's input was because the man was more than eager to offer it in any situation, especially when not prompted.

"I take it you didn't have a pleasant conversation?" he asked innocently.

"I'm not supposed to converse, for Attira's sake!" spluttered Karuss. "My job is to watch your back, sometimes listen to your drivel, but I draw the line at state policy. Only you could be buddies with the most boring king in existence."

"So there have been no further assassination attempts?"

"I freely confess that I came dangerously close to doing the deed myself, but then I remembered my manners and heroically resisted temptation. The gods themselves were obviously impressed with my performance, so much so that they saw fit to reward me, and I now find myself in the position to collect that big fat bonus you promised."

Hanadan couldn't hide his bafflement at the man's demand.

"Bonus for guarding the king, you mean?" he asked hesitantly.

As much as the Jebrils fought for their claim to nobility, they were still no match for a royal, especially the man who was - at least theoretically - the most powerful entity in the nation. Moreover, he knew that Karuss had disliked Eker long before the young prince inherited the throne, so here was another reason for the bodyguard to demand compensation.

Karuss snorted and shook his head dismissively.

"Forget the king. Truth be told, I feel sorry for the guy, given that his own guards deserted him and now he has to borrow bodyguards from his few remaining friends. No, the bonus I'm talking about is the one you promised to anyone who brings you a traitor."

Waving his arms in a mocking approximation of a formal reverence, he bowed down and whipped the hood away from the prisoner, revealing a mottled young face sporting a bloody lip and fresh bruises on the jawline, as well as a tousled mane of auburn hair, worn just a little bit longer than tradition demanded. Wild red-shot eyes fixed Hanadan with barely restrained panic, and were met with a look of pure confusion.

"Who..." began Hanadan, struggling to place him despite the sensation of familiarity.

"Picture him in a blue uniform, with an oiled slick-back and a constant scrunching of his nose, as if he's doing you a favor just by acknowledging your existence."

Recognition dawned at last and Hanadan studied the man with renewed interest. At length he narrowed his eyes, steepled his fingers and leaned forward to assess the other's minutest reactions.

"What happened to my father, Priar?" he whispered.

"I swear to all that I hold holy, I do not know," croaked the man, swallowing back a sob and lowering his head to stare glumly at the floor.

"For all that we know," intervened Karuss, "the only thing that you might hold holy is your own self-interest. But I think I should recount how I happened upon our friend here."

Hanadan nodded, for the moment more relieved than curious. If Priar had had any knowledge of the events surrounding Heddam's disappearance, this would have been a very different conversation. As things stood, that was highly unlikely, so Hanadan was now able to take full advantage.

"Heed ye, the tale I am about to tell ye," began Karuss with a triumphant grin, puffing out his chest. "Freshly dismissed from my mercifully temporary assignment as the hapless king's unwilling babysitter, I found myself in need of a respite, so I took the long way back to my lodgings, considering a few strategic locations where I could replenish my sunken spirits. Alas, I came upon a far more intriguing prospect, when trudging along the alley behind a certain minster's estate, I observed the head guard of Heddam Jebril himself slink over the wall like a mere thief, surveying his surroundings with the unmistakable look of a guilty man. Naturally, given my superior training and expertise, I only made my presence known when it was too late for the fiend to fight or flee, and so I have brought him before my esteemed employer, humbly seeking an advance on my meager salary."

Fatigue forgotten in the heat of the moment, Hanadan instantly assessed likely scenarios, fixing the supposed traitor with a predatory smile.

"I'll tell you what, oh loyal employee of mine," he drawled, not taking his eyes off Priar. "I can either give you the money now, or I could triple it tomorrow after you are crowned Golden Hunter."

"You don't have to bribe me for that," growled Karuss. "It's a given that I'll win."

"I'm glad to hear it. Now, whose house has our friend been visiting in the middle of the night?"

"Not someone you'd expect. But it'll take too long for you to guess, so I'll just tell you: it was Tersh Sebek's."

Unexpected indeed. Hanadan drew his lips into a tight line as he reassessed the old courtier's position. He'd been notoriously unambitious for decades, and the perfunctory background conducted on him years ago had revealed that Jurhem had only appointed him due to a lack of options following a disastrous campaign for Kassi in its pointless quest to reclaim some far-off islands long established as Terevansian territory. Throughout the debacle, Sebek had proven himself a reliable aid, more involved in logistics than actual combat, but he'd been smart enough to preserve as much of the troops as he could, as well as himself. Consequently, he'd been named War Minister and no one had cared enough about the position to see him replaced, especially given Kassi's shifting focus towards mercantile dominance and off-the-record diplomacy.

Of course, things had changed since Jurhem used to be in charge, and it might just be that all those years spent in a position of relative power had awakened Sebek's desire for more. Establishing an underground network was a brilliant start, and Hanadan could only commend the old man for apparently employing one of Heddam's own. He'd long suspected that Priar's allegiances were rather murky, but he wouldn't have counted the War Minister as a likely beneficiary.

"I..." began Priar hesitantly, still not daring to look up.

"-don't have to say anything. You must realize I cannot let you keep your post within the Jebril estate, but that does beg the question as to what your next move will be."

"If any of your uncles catches wind of this, the only move is praying for a merciful ending that will be a long time in coming," said Karuss coolly. "If you want to spare him, you could let Sebek officially employ him."

Hanadan shook his head, having already considered and dismissed these possibilities.

"My uncles tend to destroy rather than build, and I am looking to create a sustainable system. As for handing him back to Sebek, I'm not sure it'll do any good. An operative's strength is within the undervaluing of his reach. If I were to acknowledge every informant on my payroll, I would reveal far too much and gain nothing for my troubles."

"But this idiot is not working for you - at least not as far as I know, so why should you care?"

"He's not working for me yet," corrected Hanadan. Next, he made his voice deceptively gentle and addressed the man himself. "How would you like to be recommended for a promotion?"

Priar finally found the strength to raise his head, but the look he gave Hanadan was fraught with anticipation for the trap to be revealed. However, he didn't voice any of his fears, so Hanadan went on as if he were truly advising a friend about his prospective career opportunities.

"It's a full-time position to protect a man who is under constant threat, and since this particular person is equivalent to the country itself, think of it as the ultimate service to Kassinem."

Karuss's eyes widened in disbelief.

"You want him to-" he began in outrage, but was immediately cut off by Priar, who seemed to have suddenly grown a spine and found the strength to glare at Hanadan.

"Hasn't he got the Heavenly Guard for that? What happened to them if you resorted to making this wretched foreigner play bodyguard for our king?"

Karuss sniffed and turned away from the man, but Hanadan knew his hide was too tough to be easily insulted.

"The Heavenly Guard hasn't been all that heavenly for a good while now," said Karuss dismissively, looking at neither Priar, nor Hanadan, and instead studying Quack's colorful package on the mantelpiece. "Such was the power of the late king, that he could corrupt even the greatest of men and turn them into despicable oafs living for feasts, lusty wenches, and the sweet oblivion of a perpetual drunken stupor."

There followed a long minute of charged silence, marked only by the soft breathing of three men caught within their own inner turmoils.

"Could it be," ventured Hanadan at last, narrowing his eyes," that you're jealous?"

"I could have been one of them!" wailed Karuss, whirling around to skewer his employer with an accusing scowl, as if he'd had anything to do with it. "I could have worn that fancy uniform and done whatever I wanted, if only I hadn't been born a" - he paused briefly to kick Priar's shin - "wretched foreigner."

"You don't believe any of that," replied Hanadan. "And since I'm now well acquainted with your antics, I know you would have gotten bored in a day or two."

If Karuss had appeared irritated before, his expression was now downright thunderous, no doubt loath to admit that Hanadan was right. However, he chose to remain silent, crossing his arms and glaring at an unidentified spot somewhere above Hanadan's head.

Unable to resist compulsion, Hanadan reached for his last gourd and tipped it back to drink until he emptied it. When he replaced the stopper and glanced anew at his two companions, Karuss appeared somewhat calmer, while Priar was about to explode with impotent rage.

"Now," said Hanadan addressing the latter, "to answer your inquiry, the majority of the Heavenly Guard did indeed dwindle under the rule of King Jurhem and the reputation of the institution itself was materially damaged. The ones that remained had already sworn fealty to the former crown prince, who was an honorary member, and when he went missing, they made it their mission to retrieve him. They left the capital and we haven't heard from any of them since, so we moved on with procedure and installed a new king. Said king now finds himself without protection, so that is why I'm considering you for the vacant role."

Neither of the men before him produced any reply, though it was clear they both burned with the need to ask after the reason. If Hanadan were honest, he wasn't sure he could produce a straight answer. It might have been due to the lack of options, the reveal of a double allegiance that wasn't as opposed to the monarchy as his own relations were - unless Sebek had somehow become an aspiring tyrant in his golden years - or because of the influence he would still be able to exert on the man, especially now that he had additional leverage.

All in all, the notion proved satisfactory, and as far as Hanadan was concerned, the conversation was over. He grunted and stood up at last, wincing as stiff muscles protested his exertions. He felt tired, still thirsty, and strangely apathetic. Both Karuss and Priar watched his deliberate motions with growing unease.

Hanadan gestured at the black hood lying forgotten on the floor.

"I assume you brought him through the tunnels?" he inquired, and since Karuss nodded slowly, he went right ahead: "Take him back the same way to the dungeons. We'll pick him up again on our way to the hunt tomorrow. Good night, gentlemen."

The dismissal cut the bodyguard's protests short and Hanadan strode out of the room with unfeigned ease as he anticipated the deliverance of a good night's sleep. His father had always maintained that the worst thing a man could have was a sensitive conscience, so Hanadan had had to learn to detach himself from present situations when he really needed a break. Unheeded warnings crowded at the back of his mind, along with countless details he had overlooked throughout tonight's encounters, but he was in no state to analyze them. All he craved was a little bit of oblivion, because tomorrow, it would all come to a head.