I woke in the strange room after dreams of my father. The coals had been banked in the grate, fresh lilies reached towards the sun from their vase on the windowsill, and a set of clothes had been laid out on the chest for me. I sat up and found I had neglected to undress before bed and had sweated through my traveling cloak. Next to the bed was a fresh ewer of water and I stripped my clothes off, dipping my hands and cleansing myself until I felt a new person had emerged. The water was gritty and gray when I was finished and I poured it out into the fire, relishing the steam for a moment.

My new clothes were a good fit, though I missed the comfort of my dust mask hanging about my neck. I could not be Desert in that time and place. I was, whatever a certain King's guard might think, a respectable valet of a distinguished guest of the King. My stomach was rumbling by the time I was finished with my ablutions and I knocked on Edouard’s door.

“My Prince?”

I pushed the door open and found Edouard dressed already in clothes appropriate for hunting, tying his boots. His hair was pulled back with a leather thong, and his tunic was tied at the waist. A worn leather vest hung over his frame with a ram’s horn attached.

“Morning, Ori. Just getting ready for the ride. Have you had breakfast yet?”

“I haven’t.”

“There may be some left down in the kitchen. I had some brought up before dressing.”

Gone was the petulancy of the night before. In place of the complaining youth was this confident young man of rank. I began to understand some of his weariness. There was a certain mental fatigue that must have come with maintaining the aura I saw in him that morning.

“Very well, my Prince. I will be quick.”

“Mind you are. We ride shortly.”

He examined himself in a looking glass and for the briefest of moments the Edouard I knew shone through, but he pushed it down and replaced it with the determined face of a man set to lead, a man Everard might be willing to respect, given time. Time. It seemed the only thing I could think of with any regularity since we’d left the twenty seventh floor of the library back in Quinze. My dreams were of the past, we were living in the past, had traversed Northwest to get here, captured by a tribe of the past, and yet each day forward still maintained our own future, which began so far from the moment in which we found ourselves.

“Are you alright?” Edouard asked, looking up from his reflection.

“Just a bit dizzy. Need some food.”

He looked concerned as he waved me out of the room. I did not dally on my way to the kitchen, but took the most direct route there so there could be no confusion about my intended path through the palace corridors. I did not see Carbo or any other King's guardsmen. Only a few servants too busy about their tasks to pay me much mind. I grabbed the last remaining roll and an apple and ate them on my way back. The roll would have shamed Febril’s standards, but it wasn’t too cold and the apple was unbruised and tart.

Back in our chambers, Edouard had laid out a short sword in a leather scabbard on his unmade bed.

“Nothing too grand,” I said.

“Not for a valet, no.”

I looked up at my Prince, the half-eaten apple in my free hand. He was already wearing a sword around his waist and a knife sheath was fastened to his vest.

“I don’t fight,” I said.

“It’s unseemly for a Prince’s valet to be unarmed. You’ll have to wear it. Do you know how to fasten it?”

I admitted that I did not. Edouard fastened it around my waist, reversing our alleged roles of valet and master and stepped back to admire his handiwork.

“Got a jaunty cast to you,” he said, grinning.

I was unprepared for the size of our party. I was unaware that a king goes nowhere without a sizable retinue. Privacy is not a part of the job. If Edouard was surprised he did not show it, his bluff and hearty Prince persona was on full display. He slapped backs and clasped arms with everyone from soldiers to the master of the hounds. We were a party of at least thirty. There was a contingent of hounds, a dozen soldiers, some of the King's guard, Carbo among them I noted, as well as some others I could not identify. I had imagined our ride out into the borderlands was to be a smaller event. As knowledgeable as I felt myself to be, I had to admit that my knowledge was that of books rather than practical. Watching Edouard make friends with all and inspect his saddle bags with obvious expertise, it was clear to me that while I was the guide on this journey, I was not always the expert.

I wondered if a Prince’s valet was meant to be familiar with horses. A horse was brought to me by a stable hand, the bridle offered without thought, the youth yawning.

“Young man,” I whispered through my teeth.” “Help me on my mount. Quickly. There’ll be coin in it.”

The stable hand was not as tired as he made out, as he followed my hasty instructions, hoisting one foot into the stirrup and walking about his business as if nothing happened. I settled myself in the saddle, holding the pommel and bridle. I took deep breaths. It was not my first time on a horse, but I was not by any means an experienced rider. I looked around at the party. As I had hoped, folks were too busy cracking bawdy jokes and preparing themselves for a rousing morning to have noticed my discomfort. A wineskin was passed around among the soldiers and they slapped the bag as their comrades drank. My gaze finally found Edouard, who was chatting with a balding King's guard with enormous shoulders and next to them…next to them was Carbo.

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He was looking straight at me. The intensity of his gaze told me all I needed to know. He had been watching. Even if no one else saw, he did. And he wanted me to know. I took another deep breath, held the bridle tight in my left hand and kicked my horse into a trot in Edouard’s direction. It took all my mental effort to present confidence as I pulled up next to him, ignoring Carbo and the other guardsman.

“My Prince, do you require anything before we’re away?”

It was clear that Edouard was taken aback by my sudden and dramatic appearance at his side. He caught the look in my eyes and put a calming hand on my horse’s flank.

“Only that my king should be ready, Origio. Only that. I believe I see him coming now.”

And he was. King Everard Cortes approached the traveling party resplendent to his purpose. He was like a stage player acting the part of a soldier. His boots were shined to perfection and all his clothes from his breeches to his vest appeared to be brand new. His hair was untied and rested about his shoulders. The smell of perfume was about him as he approached Edouard and Carbo. I surmised that a scented bath as much as a sense of showmanship kept him back from arriving with the others. I was struck once again with the pitch of his voice as he stops to speak to his retinue.

“My friends,” he said. “We embark today on one of the most important of passages. We go to the borderlands. That’s right. The borderlands.”

He paused for effect, though no one spoke or moved. Horses snuffled and early morning insects buzzed and whirred.

“It is my goal to end the use of such a word, as borderlands implies an end to our Empire. And that friends, is the tragedy of our time. The greatest tragedy is those masses of people who are not yet citizens of our enlightened way of life. They are out there,” he pointed. “And unaware of what it is they are missing, and what they could have. So today we go to the borderlands so that tomorrow we don’t have to.”

He didn’t just look like he was on a stage, I thought. Still, as expected, I joined Edouard and all the rest in applauding the King's sendoff speech. There were shouts of hear hear and celebratory slaps of wineskins as all mounted up with a clattering of scabbards and spurs and a ruffling of cloaks. We shot off at a blistering pace, lathering up the horses and burning off the excess energy of the men. It was not until we were in the familiar woods outside of the outskirts of Singhal that we slowed to a trot. I did not engage in conversation with Edouard unless spoken to, eager to play my part well. I was being watched.

I wanted to talk to Edouard about the twenty eighth floor and the world in which we found ourselves. It seemed obvious to me that with all these denizens of the past as our traveling companions, surely our direction made no difference. We would not suddenly carry the King and his retinue into the future of the Empire. It was only a guess, but I could only imagine the chaos of such a thing. The designers of the library, whoever they were, would not have done something so foolish, of that I was sure. I was similarly sure that King Everard Cortes was immensely foolish and could only hope that Edouard would succeed in making him see sense, whatever that meant for our own time.

The sun was above us as we stopped in a clearing to water the horses. The morning chill had burned off and left a mild day in its wake. I sweated but my new clothes breathed well. Edouard and Carbo were engaged in a conversation I could only hear pieces of. I managed to get down from my mount without making a fool of myself while my stable hand friend saw to its needs. I stood a respectful distance behind Edouard, ready should he need me, but was called into action not by my Prince, but Carbo.

“Valet,” he said, waving me over into their conversation. “Your Prince and I have a disagreement. Come, give us your thoughts.”

“I’m sure my learning is inferior to that of my master and yourself.”

“That may be, but the King calls you wise and I’ll not discount that,” he said, not blinking. He took a chew of jerky from his vest pocket and pulled off a hank in his teeth. “Now these Ba-Hali. I’m of the opinion we ought to simply overwhelm them with force. What’s the good of an army if you can’t use it? But Prince Edouard disagrees. What say you?”

“It is too early,” I said.

Carbo swallowed his jerky and returned the remainder to his pocket. I believe he was surprised I did not default to agreement with my Prince. Edouard smiled, showing his royal teeth. He rubbed the stubble on his chin and shrugged for Carbo.

“Thinks for himself,” he said.

“Early is exactly when you ought to strike in a military engagement. Too much thinking, analyzing, leads to greater loss of life,” Carbo said.

“Potentially,” I said. “But you ask me to speculate about an enemy, rather a proposed enemy, that I know nothing about yet.”

“Proposed enemy, valet? Now you have only just arrived here, but I cannot believe you are unaware of the soldiers we have lost to the savages. Blunt weapons are their choice, what you or I might call a log they wield like a club. They have strength. That cannot be denied.”

There was an edge to his voice that was not there when he called me over. He wanted to observe me some more and perhaps embarrass me as a bonus, but had not anticipated any kind of real debate.

“If my home was marched upon by armed men I did not understand, I might behave in the same manner.”

Carbo was done with me. He turned away before I had finished my response and addressed Edouard once more.

“Your man might learn to keep a civil tongue.”

He turned his shoulder and stalked off to join his fellow King's guardsmen. I watched his retreating form with savor.

“That was unwise,” Edouard said, not making eye contact.

“My Prince?”

His voice was low and he spoke into the flank of his horse.

“He has the ear of the King.”

“He is a fool.”

“And you are acting like one,” Edouard hissed. “How can you be so blind? I intend to persuade the King to treat with the Ba-Hali and now you make it appear as if I do so at the advice of my serving man. What power will my words have if they are not my own? Do you think that will gain me favor in the eyes of the King?”

He was right. I dropped my eyes to the meadow floor and nodded.

“I am sorry.”

“Origio,” he whispered.

I looked up.

“I need you. Don’t forget that.”

I nodded again and returned to my respectful distance. It was for the best that I appeared to have been chastised by Edouard for what had just happened.

The rest was a short one and soon enough the bridle was being put back in my hands. There was a slight hesitation from the stable hand but I gave him what I hoped was an imperceptible shake of the head. I had messed up enough for one morning, and with a confidence I did not feel, I put my foot in the stirrup and swung myself onto the saddle. My horse steadied me, perhaps sensing his rider needed a little help. While nothing was communicated to me, the tenor of the retinue changed when we left the clearing. Clanking knives were strapped down. Branches were moved out of the way rather than driven through. A seriousness pervaded all.