by Lady Bast
It was not until the next morning that Inuiu came knocking on Trowa's door to inform him that he was no longer to be detained.
Trowa was not feeling charitable. While he could not expect the Prince to consult him with regards to matters of government, he did not appreciate being confined without adequate explanation. Inuiu might only be the messenger, but he had walked the halls freely the day before and would reveal what he knew. "Doesn't Wufei normally make announcements concerning the running of the household?"
"Ye-es," replied the herald hesitantly. "Normally he would be the one to oversee all things that Prince Katrah-en could not look into himself, but I'm afraid that his duties have been lessened. For the moment he is confined to the Chief Wife's garden during the day to help the Lady Relena."
"And at night?"
Inuiu made an effort not to bite his lip. "Confined to his chambers. I...I don't know the details, prince Trowa. I know that the Pure One, Set-Aket-Dua has been exiled from the city and that messengers have been sent out to all estates within the nome with warnings that he must not be welcomed anywhere. His crime is treason against the Prince and Wufei is suspected as a passive participant."
Trowa felt his mouth go dry. "Duo is exiled?"
"He is to be considered a threat," replied Inuiu, his expression strained. "I...am also to inform you that messages being sent from or received by the palace will be rigourously examined. I am to stay in Nekheb and assist the Prince in this matter. My younger brother who was in training will now be taking messages to the capital." He hesitated, carefully choosing his words. "My brother and I...we know some variants of the Keftiu tongue. It will not keep your messages from being read, but if it will be easier for your family to read this script, please don't hesitate to use it."
Trowa looked long and hard at the Chief Herald. Inuiu stared calmly back at him. His demeanor was respectful, but his eyes burned bright and hot. "The Prince...he doesn't read Keftiu?"
Inuiu shook his head. "He can read some of the simpler dialect but is better with the more local barbarian tongues. I can read more and my brother is even better than I. He might be somewhat irritated, but he knows that we can translate. We have done it before."
"And you are trust-worthy translators?"
"We are. We tell our Prince all that is important."
"I see," said Trowa as Inuiu bowed to him. The herald was no doubt loyal, but there was a determination in his stance and an inflection in his tone that was new. Trowa did not doubt that what the brothers would deem important might not always equal that which Katrah-en considered important. "Thank you, Inuiu. You may be dismissed."
The herald bowed and left the chamber. Trowa stood for several moments, trying to decide on a course of action. "Master," came a voice from behind him, "do you think he'll be alright?"
Trowa did not need to look back, did not need to see his servant's face to know what he meant. "Duo, you mean?"
"Yes. I worry about him...about his health. He was a good master and kind to me when I was a new body servant and still made mistakes. Before that, I'd only ever served visiting nobles or carried water and wine at the feasts. I don't..." Here Tetiun paused to compose himself and collect his thoughts. "I don't believe he would commit treason. He's a very good person."
"I know," said Trowa. He thought back to the first day of his arrival and Duo's little magic tricks. 'Demon-free', he was above suspicion. "Not everything he does is agreeable, but he tries to do no wrong." He remembered the night outside the palace complex and the feral look in the priest's eye as he quietly and efficiently disposed of Kamenit. "It's a pity others would make him do it for their benefit."
He offered a silent prayer - something he seldom did - to Apulu and Artames - the sun and the moon - that they might both watch over his friend. He offered a prayer as well to these new and alien gods - all of those he had met on his journey and especially to Nekhebet, the Lady of Nekheb. Duo had loved the city...it was only right that she should offer her protection in return.
"There is nothing more to be done," he said finally. "All we can do is carry on and try to find some news. I think I will swim instead of showering this morning."
"Would you like me to have the kitchen send up your morning meal?" said Tetiun, rallying as best he could.
"Have it sent to the Chief Wife's garden," replied Trowa. "I'm curious to see the improvements...and I think that Wufei may have more answers for us."
The garden's quiet weighed heavily on Trowa's heart. He wondered why Relena was not yet here. The project excited her, the sense of purpose it gave her bringing her managerial skills to the fore. Heero, Trowa decided, had every reason to be proud of his wife's capabilities.
So where was she? It was early enough, but not so early that neither she nor the work crews would not have arrived, and yet, the garden was empty.
Trowa paused. Perhaps it was not as empty as he had thought. From the far end, in a section screened from the palace windows by a wealth of trees, came a wet splattering sound. As he approached, Trowa could also hear the rhythmic grunting of human exertion.
He moved quietly, parting the bushes with a deft hand to peer unseen at his quarry. Wufei stood alone before a section of wall laid bare, the painted carvings those of three small boys and menacing crocodiles and a man whose stature and Eastern garb could only belong to Rashid. The colours were marred by splotches of dirt and grime. Wufei bent and gathered handfuls of black Assyrian soil, moistened by the newly cleaned irrigation troughs, and wadded them into balls of heavy mud. Then, with a deep breath, he hurled them at the wall, smiling grimly as they connected, covering the carvings with filth and grime. His arms, to the elbows, were as dark as the soil and his shirt and kilt - once pristine - might have belonged to a brick-maker. He turned his head as Trowa stepped forward and acknowledged the presence of authority with a cursory bow. "Prince Trowa," he said, nodded, and returned to his task.
"Wufei," Trowa replied politely. He found an overgrown bench, brushed the greenery from its surface and sat down. When the steward had released enough anger to feel self-conscious, he spoke again. "Relena isn't here today?"
"No," replied Wufei. "A family matter prevents her from joining me this morning. She will go for her usual hour of archery after the afternoon heat and stop by then. You might be able to find her in her chambers or with Lord Heero. I, of course, must remain here for the day, regardless of whether or not I am needed."
Trowa cleared off a little more of the bench and moved over, indicating to the steward that he should sit. Wufei stared at the bench as if it were an alien thing - years of servitude had instilled in him the belief that he was not to sit on a par with any prince - then simply collapsed upon it as though he could not bear the strain of propriety any longer. "I wasn't looking for Relena specifically. I was merely surprised that she was not here. I have already made arrangements to take my morning meal in this garden. Would it bother you much if I stayed? I don't really want to go through the trouble of a change of plans."
"As long as I am not disturbing you, feel free to use the garden as you will."
"Thank you. You are welcome to join us if you like. There is only Tetiun and I."
There was quiet for a moment as Wufei looked toward his mild act of vandalism. "Why?" He said finally. "Why do you seem to treat the servants here so well? Why do you speak to them as though they are their own men and women?"
"We laughed together in the market," replied Trowa. "I think your skills and intelligence are an asset. Perhaps there are too few in my tribe to treat our servants like playthings. Rank is important, this is true, and a king is often above his subjects, but a prince has more freedom and should learn how the others live. Find out their strengths and weaknesses. Know how to use and replenish them. Your knowledge is valuable, so why are you trapped in a garden?"
Wufei snorted lightly and glanced toward the muddied wall. "May I tell you a little bit about my family? I'm afraid I don't know much, but I feel the need to speak now, and a little history might help us both understand."
Trowa nodded his consent. "I'd like that very much."
Wufei drew his legs up beneath him as a scribe might prepare to write. "My family, I am told, is from a place far to the East where the sun rises out of water so vast that it dwarfs the Great Green." "I have seen such a thing."
"I haven't. I was born during my family's journey toward the West. They said my mother gave birth when my family stopped in a land of wise men and many-armed gods. I don't know why they left their home country; all my parents told me was that their clan had always had a touch of wanderlust. They travelled together with brothers and sisters and husbands and wives, grandfathers and grandmothers and children of all ages. It was a large tribe and no one dared attack them on the road. I don't know why they settled here, in Kemet. Perhaps they liked the colours of the Delta. I know that a few of my uncles and aunts continued on, but most of my family stopped for a time in the capital before deciding to follow the river. I understand that we were very well received. In general, Kemet is rather unfriendly toward outsiders, but I suppose we seemed so different that we were a curiosity more than a threat.
"Meiran's family joined us. Our families share ancestors although her parents were higher born than my own. Our families made the arrangements for our marriage when I was only four years old, but I understood none of that. She was the closest to my age and my only real playmate until we came to Nekheb.
"The Prince here, Amunmose, offered my father a position in his house if I would be a playmate for his son. Perhaps they were tired of travelling or perhaps they thought they would only be staying for a short time, but my parents accepted as did most of my family. Some continued on, of course, but Meiran's parents stayed. Many were put in positions of honour in Nekheb and some went to other cities within the nome, but all were well taken care of. Amunmose seemed to consider our presence to be a sort of status symbol. It did not take long for my father to reach the position of Steward, nor for my mother to become close to the Chief Wife, Nefermeri. Meiran's father often travelled between cities, but she and her mother remained here, in the women's quarters.
"As children, Katrah-en and I lived in the women's quarters as well. We all played together for a time, but before long, Meiran would be taken away to learn about the duties she might perform in the palace while we boys were taught war games. All the children were tutored together, but there was no time for play then...and many of the Prince's daughters were so much older than we were. So it was that, being the only two boys, we spent the bulk of our time together.
"I think a part of me knew that, like Meiran, I was only serving a function - I was not really a favoured child - but Quatre never made it seem that way. He would offer me the bigger date cake or the last of the pomegranate juice. Mostly I'd refuse it, but children are greedy and sometimes I would accept. These things usually came with a scolding from Nefermeri or my mother, but they were gentle. It was to remind me that princes were special. Quatre was never rebuked for making the offer, of course; prince must also be generous, they said. "It mattered little because before long I was expected to serve him and then wait for him to give me permission to eat. It seemed like a game to us then, for even though I was forced to wait, I was allowed the same foods as Quatre...something no other could claim. Until the one day we had an unexpected visitor who simply walked in and served himself, much to his mother's horror."
Wufei's eyes widened and his lips pinched in imitation of a mother's anger. "Dua! Dua! Aket-Dua!" he cried fussily. "You are a guest here and guests do not eat their host's food. Are you listening to me? You put that down right now!"
Trowa laughed. He hadn't imagined that the Steward, who's features were normally so composed, could contort his face into such a parody. He applauded. "Wonderful! I could almost picture Ba-het although I've never met her."
"I don't remember her as clearly as I would like," said Wufei, smiling sadly. "She was the source of Duo's spirit. They were so alike that their faces merge in my memory. She was a very kind woman who watched us and gave us honey cakes when Nefermeri and my mother were otherwise occupied. It saddened me to hear of her death.
"In any event," he continued, "once we got over the shock of Duo's introduction, we became the best of friends. I knew my way around the most secret parts of the palace - the things that only servants could know - and Quatre had the authority to get us almost anywhere. As to Duo...well..." Wufei chuckled. "Duo knew things that were probably best hidden from adults. We played, oblivious to anything but the women's quarters and our own wanderings until Nefermeri was found dead and my mother with her. It was enough that we had lost our mothers, but then Duo was pulled away from us in a rush as his family tried to escape to Kom Ombo. Set-Meketra knew he would be blamed for the murder despite the fact that it was far below his skills and he did not want his family involved. I think you know that Ba-het died in their flight and we did not see Duo again for many years."
He sighed. "Without Duo, there was no middle party between Quatre's place as a prince and my own as a servant. When his father took him in hand, he made sure that I kept my place while in his presence although we still played together in the quiet of Quatre's new apartments whenever we thought we could do so safely. We had been taken from the women's quarters to remove any influence that did not come from Amunmose himself. He was very strict. I think he was trying to achieve an immortality of sorts through Quatre by moulding him like soft clay into an model of himself. He taught through fear and Quatre learned to suspect those who cared for him as well as those who could truly be his enemies. His father's assassination didn't help matters."
"I understand he blames your father," said Trowa cautiously.
"Blamed, yes. I can only suppose it was past friendship that kept him from banishing me," said Wufei bitterly. "I knew better. My father did not kill Amunmose; could not have if he had wanted to. It was my father who taught me that a steward's loyalty must be beyond question. Over the course of years he said nothing about the many murders arranged by the Prince, and then he was killed for his knowledge. Amunmose died shortly after disposing of his body. Or so I suppose. I was long gone by then."
"You witnessed this?" said Trowa, surprised. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"
"My evidence was sketchy at best, but it was enough for me to know what was happening," said Wufei. "I told no one because no one would believe me. Why shouldn't the son defend the father despite his obvious guilt? Even Quatre believed my father had committed a murder and fled. At least, he did until last night when Duo confessed to it. It was his assignment from the temple: petty revenge on the behalf of priests who had accepted a contract to kill one of their own." The steward sighed. "Now Duo is in exile from the nome and I am trapped in the garden for having overheard the exchange. I'm the lucky one. Quatre won't let Het-Hori or Anpu-nakht out of his sight."
Wufei offered the Teresh prince a bitter smile. "I don't know why I've told you this. It can only bring you trouble. I will probably be exiled from the city for daring to speak about it." He waved a hand in the direction of the mural. "Once he would have tried to save me. Now, I feel as though I'm drowning."
"Your family offered to serve here voluntarily, didn't they?" said Trowa. "That would make you a free servant. Surely the Prince can't hold you here if you choose to leave."
"I can leave anytime, but where would I go? I had considered sending a message to the Prince's sister, Iras, who took in Meiran when Quatre sent all the wives away. However, I don't think Quatre would make it easy for me. I could collect my wife and son and leave the nome, I suppose, but Lung Yi is still an infant and needs good food and shelter. I may be a free servant, but unless I serve, that only makes me free to wander, starve, and die. Even so, there may be no other choice. Friendship might have stayed Quatre's hand when it came to Duo's punishment, but I think the only reason he lives is because our Prince does not have the authority to officially order anyone's death, and there are no assassins in the city better than Duo. I don't want to rely on childhood memories to save me.
"Do you know what angers me the most? How casually Duo was tossed away. I have learned to give my loyalty in body, but my heart has often wandered in the Red Lands. I've considered assassination myself, but could never have attempted it. Childhood memory may mean nothing to our Prince, but it makes the rest of us soft. Even so, for these thoughts alone I could have taken the punishment of exile and would have accepted it without a word. What angers me is that Duo, who has done nothing in his life that was not meant to protect the Prince, could be treated so shabbily. His methods were often devious and he'd done many brutal things while under order, but his heart was clear in its duty: protect Katrah-en.
"If I knew whether Iras would shelter me or not, I might make plans to leave here. I don't think she approves of her brother's methods and might help me book passage to another estate or find me work in Weset if she could not keep me herself. But no message of mine will be allowed to leave the city, especially not those addressed to my wife's mistress."
There was a moment of silence as Trowa pondered this. "All of my correspondence is being read by the Prince," he said. "However, I've been offered a certain amount of discretion by those who feel as you do. Since no one expects my messages to be delivered anywhere but the temple, perhaps I can arrange to have something sent to Iras."
Wufei shook his head. "Your people are under threat. I could not ask you to do anything that might be seen as an attack, and the Prince is becoming more and more liberal in his definition. That you bothered to listen to me is more than I could have expected."
"I'm offering," replied Trowa. "I won't do it unless I have a clear chance and then I will make it a matter of personal inquiry. I do plan to claim innocence of all that went on last night if I am caught, however, and this is why the decision is yours."
"That's fair," said Wufei, lapsing into silence. "Alright, if you have the opportunity, I accept. I only wish to know if Iras would be willing to take in one of the Prince's former servants. If she agrees, I will concern myself with the rest. In the meantime, I will continue to help Relena in the hopes that her presence will make a difference."
"I hope that she will," replied Trowa.
A rattling and rustling from the right drew their attention and Trowa smiled as Tetiun picked his way clumsily along the over-grown path, tray in hand. "Master," he said, bowing to Trowa. "I've brought your meal as you asked."
Trowa motioned for him to set it down on the bench. "Thank you, Tetiun. I hope you will join us," he said to Wufei. "Without Relena, Miusheri, or Hilde, the food will go to waste."
This time, Wufei's smile was genuine. "I suppose you've trapped me." He looked down at his mud-caked hands. "Let me wash in the pond and I will join you."
"Take your time, the food will keep," replied Trowa as Wufei bowed and stepped away. When he was sure the steward was out of sight, he leaned toward his body servant and spoke softly. "Your timing is too perfect. How long were you standing there?"
"Since little Aket-Dua arrived." Tetiun put out the cups and poured some beer, unaffected by the accusation. "I thought I'd drop my tray before he finished talking."
Trowa chuckled. "You are both devious and deviant for a servant. And you are not at all shocked by the things your former master has done?"
"Oh no," said Tetiun, shaking his head. "Master Duo used to tell me about all his contracts. I don't think he meant to, but in the dark and quiet, deeds can haunt. A proper servant knows when to keep a secret. Do you wonder why I was angry at my Prince? I know that Master Duo was not committing treason with the letters. There was nothing offending in their content."
The moment of silence seemed to spiral out into eternity. "How would you know?" said Trowa.
Tetiun paused, eyes as wide, like an animal caught in a trap. "I...I'm no scholar, but I can read..."
"And write. You can write too, can't you? Better than the soldiers in the palace guard at any rate. There was no way Duo could keep a web of communication going alone without being discovered and no one would suspect and illiterate servant. He used you as a scribe and runner, didn't he?"
"I...yes," said Tetiun weakly.
"And you would know the names of some of the messengers and go-betweens that he used, wouldn't you?
"I..suppose. A few."
A thoughtful smile spread across Trowa's face. "That makes one thing I know that our Prince does not," he murmured, almost to himself. "Compose yourself, Tetiun, Wufei is returning. I won't expose you." He raised a glass to greet the servant. "To the health and happiness of your family."
"And the blessing of Amun-Ra upon you," replied Wufei, sitting beside them.
Beneath the shade of acacias and sycamores, they began to eat.
The training ground was unusually quiet,. The clashing of swords and muted thumps of weapons against shields had not diminished in the least, but the happy shouts and catcalls of the fighters on longer rang out. Only Rashid's voice could be heard above the sounds of mock-battle, giving directions and shouting encouragement. Though surrounded by soldiers, he stood alone - much to Trowa's relief - and it was toward him that the foreign prince drifted with his retinue of servants and guards in tow.
"Ah, Prince Trowa," said Rashid at his approach. "You're looking well. I hope day of imprisonment did not offend you. I would like to think it was as much for your own protection as that of my Prince's."
"It's a nice thought," agreed Trowa. "I suppose that, if I'm secure in my apartments, I can't inadvertently become involved in something that might have terrible repercussions between our two nations."
"My thoughts exactly. Thank you for allowing to me to keep my illusions."
"You're welcome. You seem bitter."
"Merely saddened," replied Rashid, lowering his voice. He paused to call instruction to a man named Azim who raised a hand in acknowledgement before continuing. "I witnessed the birth of my Prince and have held high rank in the palace guard throughout his childhood. He was a very loving boy. Now, though his mouth is still sour with milk [46], fear has made him cruel. He harms no one physically, but he torments the spirits of my men with his suspicions. It is painful to see the boy he was in the man he has become. Some of the men have been whispering that he might be possessed by a djinn, and if I were a superstitious man, I might agree with them."
"And Duo?"
"Did terrible things sometimes, but he was a good friend to everyone here and took many risks on our behalf. He did not attempt to shift the blame when he was caught. He could have, with his authority, and I think that the Prince had hoped that he would. He was a good man. I hope he finds his way home safely."
A faint smile graced Trowa's lips. "Compared to you, I barely knew him, and yet I miss him."
"His presence was very strong," agreed Rashid. "Still, I doubt you came here to ask me about Duo. The subject is a dangerous one, after all."
"You're partly right. I did mean to ask about Duo if only to see how everyone felt about his leaving. It's...right," Trowa decided, "to keep a good man's name alive once he has left a place. I also wanted to know if you had seen the Lady Relena today. Wufei said she might come to practise her archery."
"Hmph. And you are too lazy to walk over to the archery ranges to see for yourself," said Rashid, smiling. "The nobility is too soft for my blood. She has come, as a matter of fact, but the Prince is with her. Tread carefully."
"A sound warning," said Trowa with grim humour as he took leave of Rashid. "Thank you for your help."
The yard was busier than usual. Trowa waved his hands to a few of the palace guards that he recognized and quietly admired the skill of a couple of Medjay soldiers before moving toward the far end of the range. The other men gave the area a wide berth. Seeing Heero and the Prince engaged in a passionate argument, Trowa couldn't blame them.
Relena stood quietly beside Heero, playing the part of the quiet, attentive wife. Alone or in her element, she was a strong woman, but quickly reverted to the role of subservience to which she had been raised when faced with authority. This left Heero to do verbal battle alone - and Trowa knew that words were not his weapon of choice - though he seemed strengthened by the mere touch of her hand on his arm. She kept her head lowered, but she did not run or cower behind her husband, and when she caught sight of Trowa from the corner of her eye, she smiled gently and with obvious relief. Behind her stood Miusheri, holding Bakara, her expression mirroring that of her mistress.
Sensing his wife's distraction, Heero's eyes glanced briefly in Trowa's direction then, at the first pause in the debate, turned to him and bowed his acknowledgement. "Prince Trowa."
The bow was short, from the waist, and informal, but it was something that the soldier did not normally do. Not on the training grounds where merit was measured by one's ability to handle a weapon. He was about to raise a questioning eyebrow when Quatre turned to him, lips drawn in a thin line. He stance suggested that he was not happy about being interrupted, but Trowa's station prevented him from saying anything about it. "Prince Trowa," he echoed.
"Lord Heero. Prince Quatre," said Trowa. He offered neither of them any special acknowledgement which seemed to rankle the Prince further.
"The Prince and I were discussing our confinement to our apartments," said Heero. "I intend to include it in my next report."
"Your guard dog fails to realize that it was an effort to protect you," countered the Prince. "Confining you to your apartments was not an accusation, but an assurance that you wouldn't accidentally become involved." He paused momentarily, lips pursing in distaste. "If I was brusque, I..I apologize. I was under considerable strain."
Trowa watched the Prince carefully. Quatre believed what he said about safety, but was well aware that his behaviour had had nothing to do with putting Trowa's welfare first. He had been fearful and suspicious, and if his story suited the circumstances of the time, it did not change the fact that he would have accused Trowa of acting against him if he had had the slightest amount of evidence to support his claims.
"I see," said Trowa after a moment's silence. "Well, I make no regular reports, but I have no intention of denying the facts as they relate to me. If I am questioned, I will tell the truth." He turned away from Quatre before he could object and held his arms out to Miusheri. "May I see Bakara? I can't believe it, but I've missed her. Where is Hilde?"
"She is sad that Duo is gone," said Relena. "I have let her stay in the apartment."
"You're too lenient with your servants, Lady," said Quatre with strained courtesy. "She will learn to manipulate you."
Relena lowered her eyes respectfully. "I think I will let her grieve. We may be here for some time. She might never see him again."
This quiet remark had a surprisingly profound effect on Quatre. His eyes narrowed in anger and he opened his mouth to speak, quickly shutting it when he realized that there was nothing he could hold against her. Instead, a vague look of despair filled his eyes and he straightened himself up. "I need to meet with Selket-em-paf," he said brusquely. "Prince Trowa, I will expect to meet you at our regular time; there are things I'd like to discuss. Het-hori, Anpu-nakht, come with me."
The body servant followed willingly - he was accustomed to being in his master's presence throughout the day - but the scribe hesitated and glanced back the group. Trowa raised a hand in a gesture of encouragement and Heero nodded his agreement. Anpu-nakht looked forlorn, but fell into place behind Quatre as the Prince swept from the yard.
"I feel terrible for him," said Relena. "Duo mentioned once that he was only supposed to be here for a short while, earning his place as a scribe, before returning to the temple of Anubis. First, his requests for transfer were refused and now he is a prisoner. Prince Quatre won't let him out of his sight. I wonder what he has seen or heard to make him worth of this punishment."
"The same thing that Wufei has seen and heard," replied Trowa, bouncing Bakara in his arms. "He's being kept in the Chief Wife's garden under guard. He is permitted to be there instead of following Quatre around because you were working together to restore the garden." He briefly described his conversation with the steward. "However, I'm sure he hasn't told me everything."
"Would you?" said Relena holding out her arms for Bakara. Trowa passed the child back and shook his head.
"This isn't the place to speak," said Heero. "Come and visit me before you meet with Prince Quatre. We'll have our evening meal early with the women."
"I don't want to impose," said Trowa, but Heero cut him off.
"We would like you to come," he said earnestly. "There are important things we need to discuss."
Trowa did not protest further. There was an urgency in Heero's tone that could not be ignored. "Alright, if you insist."
"Come when you like. Relena will go to the garden, but I'll be working in my chamber most of the day."
Nodding, Trowa took the bow that was offered to him by Tetiun and checked the tension of the string. "I hope you aren't all leaving already. I thought we might have a little friendly competition."
"It will be between you and Heero then," smiled Relena. "My husband tells me my eye is good, but my arm is still weak. I don't often reach the target. Miusheri might join you; she's been improving steadily."
"I'm sure you're much better than you think," replied Trowa. "At least do me the honour of showing me how you've improved."
Relena smiled shyly and graciously accepted and picked up her practise bow. Her eyes was indeed good, her aim unfailing, but the arrows consistently fell short of their mark. Once she hit the marker, but it was low to the ground and lacked the force to penetrate the wood of the post. Nevertheless, she had improved and Trowa praised her accordingly. Sufficiently encouraged, she accepted to stay and engage in a brief competition with the others. Heero was the ultimate winner, a skill to which Trowa was pleased to concede.
"Thank you for an entertaining afternoon," said the soldier, clasping Trowa's arm, "but the day is getting hot and I promised to meet with Rashid to discuss the next rotation of guards." He nodded toward the two men seated in the dirt, tossing stones with Tetiun. "They'll grow fat and lazy with 'guests' like you, but the act is necessary. For your protection as well as that of the Prince," Heero added with more than a hint of sarcasm.
"I won't pretend it isn't an inconvenience," replied Trowa, "but I've had worse companions. I have been making the effort to get to know them, much as Duo had done. I will never have his memory for names and faces, but it's good to know something about the men who serve you. Your men have many interesting stories to tell."
"Foot soldiers spend more time in the thick of battle than their commanders," nodded Heero. "There are days when I think I should have risen through the ranks like any common soldier, but my father's reputation put me ahead of my peers. I think some are resentful."
"Some will always be resentful, there's no helping it. The others admit to have had their doubts, but assure me that your skills are a match for your father's."
A slight smile tugged at Heero's lips. "Thank you. They would never say such things to their superiors directly, which is why you might be pleased to hear that they have similar things to say about yourself. Perhaps we can flatter one another later this evening. Don't forget."
"I won't."
"I will be going as well. It is already terrible of me to leave Wufei waiting as I have," said Relena.
Trowa shook his head. "You can't be expected to make amends for the Prince's orders. He will hold nothing against you."
"Even so, I dislike the idea of him sitting alone with little to do. He is the sort who prefers to be busy."
"Then I won't keep you, but promise that neither of you will work too hard in the hot sun. You can plan what work needs to be done just as easily from the shade of the trees."
"I promise. I will even send to the kitchens for cool beer and melon. Until tonight."
"Until tonight," replied Trowa.
He waited until Heero's family had left the grounds before resuming his practise, but within half an hour, the heat began to bear down on him. He drew a hand against his brow and started to collect his arrows. He smiled at the body servant who had jumped to his feet at the first sign that his master was ready to leave. "Tetiun, the sun is unbearable. I think I'll be showered and take my rest. I have a feeling that I'll need all my of strength for tonight."
"Would you like a massage as well, Master?"
"Not necessary. Just sleep I think."
"You might need flexibility too."
"Tetiun..."
The servant lowered his voice. "And a good weapon."
"Tetiun, you are unbearable."
"I apologize, Master. Food and drink then?"
Trowa sighed. "Alright, send ahead for some of the date-flavoured beer and at least try to look as sorry as you claim to be."
Tetiun nodded solemnly and ran ahead. Trowa couldn't help smiling to himself, but his good humour quickly evaporated when he thought of how Tetiun's jest - if, indeed, it was a jest - could get him into trouble if it were overheard by the wrong sort of person. The Prince, he knew, was not one to appreciate such a comment no matter how lightly it was made. It made him wonder if a small weapon was not a good idea. Just a knife that he could pass off as an eating utensil. Purely for defensive reasons, of course.
He suppressed that train of thought with a shudder. Nothing would be allowed to happen to him if it could be helped, but bringing a weapon into a private conference with Quatre could put his father and tribe in danger. A weapon was of no use to him, but he knew he should remain alert. Words as well as knives could be gleefully misinterpreted.
As he crossed the training ground, Trowa spotted several hands raised in greeting and waved in return. Despite the show of camaraderie, the air was heavy with tension and fear. It could not last. It would grow until the pressure was unbearable and then burst. Trowa did not want to be present when it happened. He understood more fully what it was that Duo had accomplished. If Quatre did not learn to bleed out the frustrations of the city, he would earn himself the riot he had so desperately sought to avoid. And yet, remembering how often the Prince's eyes seemed desperate and lonely, Trowa could not in good conscious leave him to his fate. It would be a dangerous gamble and not one that he could handle alone, but if something was not done, the whole city would suffer.
Determined to find a way to set things right, Trowa headed toward the showers.
[46] In a culture without "teenagers", an expression to describe someone who hasn't quite reached adulthood or who is legally adult (as Quatre is about 16), but is still showing characteristics of childhood like baby fat, largish eyes, or a willowy frame.
"The Prince of Nekheb" copyright A.C.Smith (aka Lady Bast), 2002. Send comments to asmith@ican.net Please do not repost or print (other than for personal use) without permission. The Gundam boys and all their paraphenelia belong to whomever currently holds the rights...I'm just borrowing them for a while. No infringement is intended, really. Really really. Please don't sue me, I have no money. If, however, you have a burning desire to hire me and PAY me money to write this kinda stuff, feel free to track me down.