Jankin pushed the door open and led the way down a short flight of stairs to a tunnel that most likely ran beneath the gardens of which Ramsay had caught the barest sight. Jankin continued onward, through a long hallway, then up another set of stairs that spilled out into a large room. A sitting room, Ramsay decided.
At the far end sat the king, surrounded by the rest of his harem. Nadir smiled briefly, arm rebandaged and in his properharem clothing again. Ramsay ignored all of them, intent only upon the king. Crossing the room, he knelt and placed Kajan in Shafiq's arms, then drew back and bowed his head. "Your Majesty."
"Thank you," Shafiq said roughly, and held his son tight. "Thank you, Ramsay."
Ramsay said nothing, only nodded.
In Shafiq's arms, Kajan began to squirm and mutter, eyes slowly opening. Then they widened. "Papa! Papa! Papa!" He threw his arms around his father and began to cry and apologize and talk all at once, achieving in the end little more than a garbled mess.
"Shh, Kaj, all is well now," Shafiq soothed his son, holding him just as tightly.
Ramsay stood and fell back, keeping out of the way now that his part was done.
"You better not try to sneak off," Jankin said, a knowing look on his face. "Come on, you and I are going to put Feather in the stable where she will be nice and cozy."
Ramsay scowled, but could find no way out of that. He'd simply have to get her there whenever he found an opportunity to leave. So he tore his eyes away from Shafiq, who was still absorbed in his son, calming him slowly, listening to everything he said, somehow able to easily understand the clumsy spill of words. With his son returned, Shafiq looked years younger, almost a completely different person. Astonishing the amount of fear he had managed to hide, and yet how obvious it was that it was now gone.
Fetching Feather and taking her to the royal stable was easy enough, and it gave him a chance to learn more of the palace. Not that he needed to learn it all, he'd never see it again after this, but old habits.
Back in Shafiq's room, Kaj was still speaking, his exhaustion given way to a burst of energy spurred on no doubt by a fear this was all a dream or something.
On one side of Shafiq were the twins, Nadir adding to Kajan's tales where he could. He was curled up in Ender's arms, who constantly caressed and petted his brother, as though assuring them both that Nadir was well.
On Shafiq's other side, Berkant hovered protectively. Ramsay approved.
He was also beginning to feel like an interloper again. His duty was done, his role played out, and he had no good reason to linger. Even if they made him want to smile. Even if they made him want a lot of things, things he had thought he'd buried with his brother.
Jankin was warm beside him, despite the fact they were not quite touching. Ramsay moved away from temptation, stifling a sudden yawn as he leaned against a wall.
He jerked when someone touched him and realized with complete shock that he had dozed off.
That shook him. Badly. Holy Protectors never fell asleep in unfamiliar places, surrounded by unfamiliar people, especially when the safety of the person they protected was tenuous at best. But was it tenuous? Though he should be suspicious of all of them, he could not help but feel that every man in this room was indeed safe. He did not realize until now that the warmth they showed, Mazin had not.
"What?" he finally asked, looking at Jankin, noticing sadly that everyone else was gone.
"Come, my dear old friend. We prepared a bed for you." He held up a hand before Ramsay could speak. "We'll have your wounds cleaned and bandaged again, then let you sleep. The others want badly to speak with you, but will wait until morning."
Too tired to argue, knowing he would need the rest if he was going to slip away in a few hours, he followed obediently along. Thankfully the healer was waiting for them in the room, and it didn't take long for him to tend the wounds, though he clucked disapprovingly and scowled the whole time, muttering about recklessness and stupidity.
"You had better be here in the morning," Jankin admonished, once the healer was gone, as he ushered Ramsay over to the bed. "Truly, Ramsay—stay. You saved Kajan, and Shafiq wants very badly to express his gratitude. He can never repay the fact you brought his son back, alive and safe. I know you and your tricks. Do not sneak out."
Ramsay sighed. "Thank you for the bed. Goodnight, Jankin. It truly was good to see you again."
Jankin smiled and softly kissed his cheek. "You too. Sweet dreams, Ramsay."
He was fairly certain Jankin was not supposed to do that, but Ramsay said nothing, save to grunt a reply. Then he tumbled into his bed, where he fell immediately asleep.
He woke up a few hours later, while the half moon was still high and bright in the sky, shreds of it filtering through his window and bed curtains. Jankin must have drawn them. Pushing them aside, he climbed out of bed and saw immediately that water and clothes had already been set out for him to find in the morning.
Don't sneak away, Jankin had said. More than once. But why should he stay? His duty was done, and there was no place for him here. Why would he even expect or hope for there to be? Flexing and stretching to work the stiffness and soreness from his muscles, he then quickly rinsed off and dressed in the fresh clothes, mindful of his bandages.
He left the room and stood pondering a moment, thinking back carefully over all the twists and turns they hadmade. Even mostly asleep, he had noted where he moved. When he was confident he remembered the way, he traveled back the way they had come.
It was only as he reached the secret door that he realized he did not have the key, and even if he did, he could not find the hidden keyhole.
Hmm.
Turning away, he retraced his steps and paused at a set of double doors that, if he had his bearings correct, should be the king's bed chamber. Opening one door cautiously, he slipped inside and closed it again. Then he glanced around. Sure enough. He moved soundlessly through the room, more than a little annoyed that in the entire wing, not so much as a single guard patrolled. Perhaps they were posted outside the wing, to give the king as much privacy as possible.
