The man whipped around at the sound of his native tongue. He was scarcely more than a boy, Marek realized as he jogged across the street to him. He forced a smile as he reached the bottom step. “Wesloriat?” he asked in his native tongue.
The young man glanced around, as if expecting someone to appear.
“So am I. Obviously,” Marek said in Weslorian, and laughed nervously. “I am here with the Weslorian delegation. I have news.”
The young man softened. “Oh.” He came down off the landing. “What, for me?”
“All of you,” Marek said.
“But I’m the only one here. They’ve gone to meet the gent.”
The gent.“Ah,” Marek said. “I think it best we don’t talk here. Is there a public house nearby?”
“Je.”But the young man hesitated and looked back at the door. “I’m to dine here.”
“I won’t keep you from supper. What do you say to a pint? A toast to the home country.”
The young man gave him an appraising look. Then he shrugged. “Aye, then. Let’s hear your news. What’s your name?”
“Vilcot Tarian,” he said, borrowing the name of his neighbor.
They walked to the corner public house. It was the end of a workday and the common room was crowded. Marek feared he’d not be able to hear what the young man said. He caught that his name was Lorenz, and Marek squeezed in next to him on the bench, insisting Lorenz sit first so that he would be on Marek’s right. He had to lean in quite close to hear the lad above the din, but he laughed and claimed to be an old man.
Lorenz didn’t seem to mind it. As it turned out, he was young enough that he was desperately homesick. He might have been fifteen years old, Marek guessed. Lorenz missed his mother, he missed his sister, and the voyage had made him ill. He clearly needed the opportunity to talk, and talk he did, until Marek didn’t think he could absorb another word.
He told Marek he and the others were here to protect Queen Agnes and the princesses. He felt honored to be selected from the ranks for this important mission.
“And the other lads?” Marek asked. “Were they selected, as well?”
Lorenz nodded. “We’re friends, all of us. Dominick’s the one who knew the gent. None of us have ever been away from Wesloria. And we heard Princess Justine is beautiful.” He looked at Marek. “Is she beautiful?”
Marek considered this. “All women are beautiful,” he said. “And what are you to protect the queen and the princesses from?”
Lorenz shrugged. “I don’t rightly know. I thought you might know. They said the king is weak and can’t protect them himself. The gent said he might not even live to see Wesloria again!” he said, his voice full of wonder. “Is that true?”
“No,” Marek said. “He is not as ill as that.” He wondered if it had occurred to this young man that the king would travel with a small army to protect him and his family. He wondered if it had occurred to him to inquire why the advisors to the king would allow him to take such a journey if he was weak and might not survive.
Marek drained what was left in his pint and ordered Lorenz another one. “Did the gent say any more than that?”
Lorenz looked at him curiously. “You said you had news.”
“I do. But if you’ve already heard it, what is the point of repeating it?” He smiled.
Lorenz thought about that a moment and seemed to accept it. “He said we’d see London and the princesses, that’s all. And to keep it a secret. It’s a special mission, aye? He said there might be a spot of trouble here and there.”
Marek nodded. “There could very well be. Did he say what sort of trouble?”
Lorenz shook his head as he accepted the pint from the serving girl.
Marek rubbed his face with his hands. This...child was here to protect the queen, so he thought, and had no more clue of what he was doing than a simpleton. He lowered his hands and turned to face Lorenz. “I want to understand you completely, Lorenz.”
The lad nodded.
“A man—a gent you don’t know, by your own admission, and apparently don’t know even his name—comes to you and your friends and offers you a voyage to London and a chance to see a princess if you will protect the queen.”
“Aye,” Lorenz said, and drank thirstily from his second pint.
“He tells you that your king—the sovereign you serve and have vowed to defend—is weak. And that there may be trouble. You’ve no idea what trouble, or what you are doing, or why, and you don’t think to question any of it. Does that not sound odd to you?”
