The large man strutted over and thumped down into the pillows across from Noah and Thomas. A deep joy rippled through his body as he smiled at them. Noah spotted the age of wrinkles, and tanned skin behind the bushy beard and eyebrows. Other than that, his body sat tall and strong, brown eyes glinting with life, and teeth shining like pearls.
The servant brought him a steaming cup, like he had the two guests. The little wooden dish seemed comical while held in his strong giant hands. Even more so when he sipped from it as elegantly as any member of royalty. He finished the beverage and held out his cup for a refill.
"My apologies, my friends. I am afraid my throat is rather dry from an important conversation, moments ago." Thomas shifted to a more comfortable position and took a sip from his own drink.
"Yes, we saw this when we entered the camp. Very strange this. Usually the outpost only has enough men to filter out basic contraband."
The large man looked into the drink as he swirled it around.
"Yes, well, things have been changing as of late. Words of raiders moving about between here and Warrenhall." Noah glanced out the corner of his eye at Thomas, who only nodded understandingly. "Then there are the refugees flooding in day after day from the mountain pass up north."
"You've seen this? Are you one of these groupings?" Thomas took another sip of his drink. The man up to him, a knowing smirk on his lips.
"Eh, no to the second and yes to the first. We are a nomadic tribe. Simply passing through on our regular pilgrimage through Tovoran. Thought you might have known that." He took another sip, never breaking eye contact. Thomas looked down his drink's steam and shifted once more upon the pillows.
"Oh, I must make my apologies for my ignorance, sir. I am afraid I do not have much dealings with any of the tribes moving beyond the mountain range, or those who move about within." The old man furrowed his brow, but the smirk remained.
"Really? You are from here, judging by what you told my men. You should be fully aware of the tribe that settled in your lands nearby. The Namroe." Thomas gave a jolting nod, feigning sudden remembrance.
"Oh, yes. Yes, I do know of them. Although, I have not had much dealings with them myself, you see. As the master of my village, I am mostly concerned with staying inside the four walls my king has put me in. All my knowledge of the outside world comes to me from official letters."
Noah heard Thomas speak the last statement, and he felt his face go flush at the mistake. He looked at the other two men, who both showed a similar thought. The large man leaned back a bit and took another drink.
"And, in all of those letters, they never told you once how the Namroe tribe had been slaughtered? Strange thing for someone in your position to be unaware of." While Thomas shrugged his shoulders and acted as if these things happen, Noah felt the pieces on their side of the board quickly being knocked down.
"I suppose the news has been lost within the pile upon my desk. However, I am sorry to hear the news of your tragedy, sir."
"Sir? Please, call me Solomon. And it is no offense that you have not heard. From my understanding, and my recent conversation with that man out there, the people of Tovoran seem to not take much notice of our people." He finished his drink and placed the cup next to him. "But tell me, you two want to join our tribe? An odd thing for someone of your position to do, is it not?" He looked over to Noah for agreement, who froze up, unsure of if he should speak or not. Before he could make the choice, Thomas did so for him.
"Well, I am afraid that your men might have misunderstood my meaning. This might be my fault. I understand very little of the language spoken beyond the mountains and must have said the wrong words to them. What I meant was that my servant and I have need to join your people up the mountain." Thomas scooted forward, glancing at Noah before bringing his voice lower. "In full honesty, Solomon, we are not entirely supposed to be here."
Solomon glanced between the two, placing his hands on his knees and leaning in. The two men seemed like children readying to share some deep secret.
"Yes, in what way do you mean?"
"You see, we have been summoned by our king and asked by him to enter the city unnoticed by anyone."
"For what purpose?"
"To carry out an investigation." Thomas looked about at the other two once more, a faint glisten of sweat reflected off the lantern's orange flicker. Noah raised an eyebrow, surprised at his leader's dedication to the role. "I can not say much," he continued, "but what I can say is that someone has hired an assassin to target someone within the castle. My companion and I managed to intervene this man in our town, but he killed himself before we could find out who hired him. So, we have no other choice but to hunt them down ourselves."
Solomon nodded, stroking his great beard. Noah found himself replicating the action. Now twice he had seen Thomas craft a great lie. Each time they molded the facts and fiction together to create something just bold enough to trick. Then, the large man spoke again.
"I see, I see. Terrible business in these times. However, why must you enter the city in secret?" Thomas smiled, and looked over at Noah in mock surprise. He turned back, holding the smile.
"Well, I suppose you would not know me like the court of Windgrad do. They are well aware of who I am and what I do. If I were to arrive through any checkpoint, they would be tipped off to my presence and begin work to hide any evidence my companion and I might come upon. You understand, don't you?"
Solomon nodded, taking a moment to ponder all that he had been told. Noah struggled to keep his breath at an even pace, and he noticed Thomas's sweat starting to drip down his cheek, hinting that it might not all be an act. The large man stroked his beard and took a deep breath before snapping his eyes up to look at Noah. The youth's heart skipped a beat when the man let a broad smile spread across his face.
"Now that is something. And a lot is truly happening in the world. Isn't it?" He flashed his eyebrows at Noah, hinting at a desire for him to respond.
"Yes, sir." The second word came out unsure if it should be added to the response. Then Noah let a quick glance flash to Thomas for reassurance. When he looked back, Solomon's face let it not be a secret that he had noticed the look.
'Damn.' He thought. Solomon shifted himself to face Noah completely. His face now grew serious.
"I mean, imagine my shock at crossing your borders the way I have. Clustered in with hundreds of refugees, all fleeing from a war. Then, I hear of my people's destruction by bandits. Did you know that these bandits had not been caught? No one has even caught wind of them since that night. Not a single word of where they might be."
"Very odd indeed, sir." While Noah's words came out calm, his mind raced. He questioned what he was even doing. Was he supposed to speak now? What were the right things to even say? Should he ask any questions? What Thomas had made seem so natural came to him like a frog learning to dance. But, before he could do anything else, Solomon went on.
"And now, I have heard of a second assassination plot." He looked between the two, exaggerating his shocked expression. He eventually settled upon Noah once more, reading his face intently. "Yes, I would guess the two of you know about the other killing that took place. Terrible business. We only learned about it recently ourselves." He cast his eyes down in sorrow. "And to hear that your king could have suffered a similar fate. What is this world coming to? I would imagine the assassin of the prince would be fleeing as we speak. Though, he would not be able to make it through the mountain pass. Northguard has nearly a whole army watching their border. So, he would have to be heading somewhere within Tovoran."
Noah felt his heart thumping in his ears, and worried that it might explode altogether if the man spoke anymore. Solomon had played their game against them the whole time, keeping his knowledge secret from them and putting on the act of the ill informed foreigner. Now, he suggested something far worse than knowing the truth of why they were there.
Noah remembered Giles being in a similar position, and remembered how well he managed to play the same game they did. How Thomas had managed to as well. And now seeing Solomon do it with no struggle.
"In truth," His heart nearly gave out at hearing his own voice speaking, boldly and without a worry in the world. He noticed Thomas looking over, never losing his composure, but sweating at a doubled pace. "We suspect that the assassin we found would be the same who killed the prince." Noah leaned in, glancing between the two men. "We think that the same person hired the same man for both killings. And, if you will forgive me for saying, we think they might have hired the raiders as well." Solomon nodded, eyes squinting under a furrowed brow.
"Interesting. I see. What reason do you have for this?"
"Well, none really. We simply have run the same line of thought you just did. It is simply too great a happening that they were all isolated events." Solomon pointed a finger at Noah, wagging it in the air.
"Yes, yes! That is exactly what I thought." He raised the other finger to point at both of them. "And you two have come to learn who this mastermind is."
"Precisely!" Thomas said. Solomon slapped his palms upon his crossed legs.
"Very good. Now, there are only two more things I need to know. The first is, if you do find out who this man is, I need to know. The Namroe must have justice for what has been enacted upon them. They are our kin, no matter how distant."
"Of course." Said Thomas. "Any information we find out about this man will be shared with you, Solomon. You have shown me and my servant a great kindness and have helped all of the kingdoms of Tovoran with this one act." Solomon nodded, smiling.
"Thank you. And the second thing, before I forget. What was the name of the assassin?"
"Giles."
The name came out of Noah's mouth, no different than if someone had asked him for the time. The two other men, no longer aware of each other after hearing the name, both looked at him. All together, it took him far too long to realize what had just slipped from him. When it did, he felt the walls of the tent looming over as his body shrank beneath them.
Thomas, barely able to keep the panic at bay, clenched his jaw until a vein popped up. Solomon, while no longer smiling, seemed less distressed. Instead, he pursed his lips, nodded a few times, then stood up.
"Giles. Interesting name. Where have I heard it before?" His eyes searched around, and he began to pace a bit, repeating the name over and over to himself. Noah looked over to Thomas, who was busy working on controlling his breathing. Solomon went on like this for some time, before the two men caught his eye again. "Oh, my apologies. I will inform my men that we will help you into the city. Don't worry, without help, no one will even know you are with us."
Noah felt his own sweat trickling down his spine, thanking the gods that it did not appear on his face as his companion's had. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Thomas begin to rise, and followed his motion. Thomas reached out and hand and Solomon's own engulfed it.
"We thank you for your help, Solomon. Our king shall hear of the kindness you showed today." Solomon stepped aside to give them passage out of the tent.
"I am sure he will, Thomas."
—
Noah felt the white sky straining his eyes, and squinted hard into the day's light. Smoke and cold once more filled his senses, and the bustle of the campsite clattered about him. Thomas, who had gone before him, walked a little way away from the tent and stood with his hands on his hips. Seeing this, Noah recalled his dealing with Elias, and hesitated to go over to him. However, after a moment, he realized that his companion would hold himself there until Noah came over. So, he did, sheepishly, taking every step with caution.
"It was a mistake."
"I know." Thomas did not look at him as he spoke. "I want to let you know," Noah leaned back, partly anticipating the man to strike him. "I want you to know, you did a good job in there." Noah's heart skipped. He opened his mouth to speak, but Thomas raised his hand. "You did good. But, from now on, we must both learn to hold our tongue. Even when we think we are alone."
"Yes, sir."
The two stood, Noah looking at the ground, and Thomas at the sky. Their back muscles had grown tight, and the sweat upon their skin now made them feel frozen. But, they could breathe again.
"Daughter, come here. I must ask you about something." Solomon's voice bellowed from within the tent. Both men now looked over at the young girl walking over to the entrance. For an instant, she glanced over at the two before disappearing within. Noah recognized her as the girl who had helped him with his boot.
"Wait." Thomas's voice barely registered within Noah's mind. "Did I ever tell him my name?"