It was Clysday morning, a whole four days since Rylen’s disappearance. If that wasn’t causing enough worry, Hyrestl had woken up to the realization it had only been yesterday he’d felt the presence of his enemy.

Nonetheless, he busied himself rearranging the inn for a party a noble was throwing there that night.

He rubbed his eyes. It had been another tiring night. Mentally, he was fully rested, but his body was clearly telling him he’d been walking around for the last four days without rest. Even if his body hadn’t been sleepwalking, he knew he wouldn’t have gotten any rest for fear of his old enemy.

He didn’t know what the man was calling himself these days, and it nagged at the back of his brain. He had to console himself with the fact that the man didn’t know he was here. Or at least, maybe that’s what he wanted Hyrestl to think. He squeezed the bridge of his nose, trying to banish the thoughts from his mind.

He had the new hiree cleaning and polishing the gold and silver tableware that had been kept in storage until now. The inn rarely used them except when a customer explicitly requested they be served with them.

He had sat the man in the middle of the room where he could keep his eye on him. What was the new worker’s name, again? He’d forgotten. Narlo? Nendas? Nur? He shook his head. He’d have to ask again or just wait until someone else said it.

He finished doing a fine cleaning throughout and fetched the tapestries that were kept in storage. They were rich colors of sun gold, saffron orange, and fiery red. He would be using them to drape the exterior and interior walls. He would have decorated the place earlier, but he hadn’t had enough hands to help out with it. The festival was only twenty-three days away now, and the inn had been swamped with customers in the days prior. Most other establishments had their decorations up already. The inn was starting to stick out in a bad way. Someone knocked on the front door.

“We’re closed!” Hyrestl shouted.

There were the sounds of footsteps shuffling around, then a heavier hand pounded on the door.

He stepped briskly to the front window and peered out. There was a small contingent of royal guardsmen on his porch with a couple other retainers.

He quickly unlocked the door and opened it wide. He bowed.

“Prince Bardullah, it is my deepest pleasure to greet you. The preparations are not finished yet, but I hope you are satisfied with the progress for your celebration.”

Holding a gold chalice, Bardullah stepped inside. He took a sip from it as his guardsmen and retinue followed in behind him. His adviser immediately turned up his nose at the sight of the interior of the Inn.

“I truly don’t understand why you’ve chosen this place for your parties year after year. I know that it is extremely difficult and expensive to reserve, but truly, there are far better halls in the palaces of lords at your disposal.”

Bardullah didn’t mind the man’s words. Nor did he seem to pay much attention to Hyrestl. He walked over and fingered the tapestries that were lying on a nearby table.

The new worker gaped in astonishment but quickly remembered himself and threw himself to the floor in a deep bow with his forehead to the planks.

“Hyrestl,” Bardullah said, “it appears you’ve been taking very good care of the tapestries.” He walked over to the gold and silver dishes. He inspected one closely, then eyed the new worker’s unstately clothing. “I see my dishes are in perfect condition; however, I would change the type of person who helps clean them. Farmers and other rabble are acceptable, but cretins from the street?” He shook his head. “You disappoint me.”

“You are right, of course, my prince. My sincerest apologies. Please, allow me to make amends.”

“You needn’t do much,” the prince said. “Simply find someone else to handle my possessions. A woman perhaps. I wouldn’t mind that.” He took a sip from the chalice and nodded in satisfaction.

Hyrestl accompanied Bardullah as he walked through the place. He made complaints or suggestions and inspected the property he had lent for use in the inn.

The barman showed what little damage had been done to a few of the various items. A silver plate had been bent, or a crystal chalice had been scratched. A scribe took down notes and started performing calculations. Hyrestl brought out the ledger, and the scribe dutifully looked over the transactions. As this was being done, Bardullah took Hyrestl aside.

“Tell me, where is that Ara-Eran boy you’ve been keeping around? I know you hide him when I come by. Now, I have to uphold the king’s request for peace with the Erans, but that doesn’t mean I’ll allow one to even show his face at my party. Do you understand?”

Hyrestl bowed. “Of course, Your Highness, I know your wishes, which is why I hide him away from your sight. I keep him around because he is a good worker. It isn’t because I wish to displease you.”

Bardullah nodded. “Of course.” He made sure his guardsmen were out of earshot, then spoke quietly. “I trust you’ve been keeping all of my possessions safe? Not just the ones we’ve looked at?”

The innkeeper bowed. “Your Highness, I assure you, all of your possessions have been accounted for.”

Bardullah smiled. “Good. I’ve been looking forward to this day. A lot is depending on how tonight turns out. Your service has been very dependable for the last few years.”

The scribe approached them and bowed, then pointed with his hand at the ledger to indicate it was ready for viewing.

Hyrestl approached and flipped through it as Bardullah simply stood to the side and watched.

The scribe had made a few corrections or clarifications, then added Hyrestl’s dues in new entries.

For the renting of the inn, Hyrestl was receiving a healthy sum. However, for the use of Bardullah’s expensive decorations and furnishings, he also had to pay a healthy sum. In addition to that, he’d have to share a part of the profits he had gained from the use of Bardullah’s property. In the end, he only made a small profit. Hyrestl let out a quiet sigh.

“Your Highness, everything looks in order. I can’t say how much I appreciate your generosity.”

“Good.” Bardullah left with his retinue, and Hyrestl bowed until he was safely gone. The new man stared at him in wonder.

“How is it that you host a prince?”

Hyrestl pointed at the gold and silver serving pieces. “We have an arrangement. Now, help me clean these dishes, and don’t break any of them. Understand, now?”

The man hesitated, as if he wanted to say more, but nodded and sat back down to polish the precious metals. He handled them with far more care than he had done before.

Hyrestl absently wiped his hands on his apron, suddenly realizing he’d forgotten what he’d been doing before Bardullah’s interruption. He looked around the room but couldn’t find the object of his previous work. The sudden quiet in the room brought an uneasy feeling to his gut. He tensed.

Some part of him said something was lurking. It was hiding in the corners, or behind the closed door of the cellar. Had something moved in the shadow?

He took deep breaths to calm himself. The paranoia that had nearly gripped him in madness was threatening to take a hold of him. It had taken years for him to get over it after leaving Ara-Era. The return of that man’s presence had stirred all of his fears again.

He wiped the cold sweat from his brow. The fact he had felt the presence was proof enough that he was currently safe. If he could feel him when he was close, he would have a warning. Unless the man used one of his lackeys to strike at Hyrestl.

He walked away from the door, then went back and locked it. He ran a hand through his hair and grabbed a fistful as if readying to pull it out. He let go and smoothed it back instead.

He walked across the room and picked up a roll of brilliant sun gold fabric and unfurled it. He had a party to prepare for.

***

Bardullah casually made his rounds, making sure his guests were reminded of the reason they were here. He’d chosen this venue exactly because it was shabbier than the halls of lords. Here, his guests could enjoy being a part of a select number of people he had chosen. They wouldn’t have to worry about chatty women eavesdropping on their conversations and spreading it to their friends or, most importantly, their husbands.

If Bardullah had requested the use of a lord’s hall, then there would have been other invitees in attendance. Some in their circles would be invited, others wouldn’t. That’s just how it worked with politics: the wealthy and powerful. Anyone who was anyone could usually show up at a feast by a lord. Asking someone to leave your party was a very easy way to make an enemy. At the very least, they wouldn’t be as cooperative with future favors asked of them.

He’d used Hyrestl’s inn on other occasions as well. While it was expensive to rent the whole place out during the festival, it didn’t compare to what it would have cost him in favors or money to host a grand feast. The Daum family simply didn’t have the wealth anymore.

Not to mention this party was private. He could bring his full cunning to bear here. He knew the various merchants and noblemen. They were all in a position to gain from the Daums, and they all had something the family wanted. Whether it was political support to be exchanged, secrets to the sources of certain goods, or even valuable connections, they would all benefit each other in one shape or form.

He had brought them all here with the promise of tasting a very rare drink. Honestly, he himself was looking forward to it. While the party was about strengthening his own position and the position of the Daum family, it was his coming-of-age party. At least, his unofficial party. He could enjoy at least one or two forbidden pleasures here.

As he enjoyed the various drink and food Hyrestl had carefully set out, he couldn’t help but admire what this foreigner had been able to do in a day’s time. Sure, the place wasn’t spectacular, but it was unique. Of all the buildings in Gwyan, there wasn’t another like it. Now, with red and yellow tapestries adorning it and royal blue and purple carpets set out, it had almost obtained a grandeur like the halls of the old kings.

Bardullah spoke with a merchant who traded heavily with the Erans. The man was generally hated for that, and the great wealth that it brought him only fueled the envy of others. However, he was taking a different approach. As a prince, it was expected of him to uphold the king’s ruling for peace and trade between the two countries. Few others than Bardullah and select merchants were taking advantage of the new trade with the Erans.

Hatred of Erans was also carried by much of the populace, so much so that Eran goods were generally only enjoyed by the wealthy who wanted to impress the king. It was Bardullah’s intention to support Eran goods in his holdings in return for a part of the merchant’s profits. The merchant would be able to widen their market, and the Daum family would start filling their coffers again.

As for his political guests, Bardullah made sure they heard how the late Lord Daum had spared no expense in his attempt to reclaim the king’s son from the darkness of the mines where he had been lost. Why, the king’s wishes were the Daum family’s command, didn’t they know? There wasn’t another family closer to the king’s side.

Oh, were there rumors that the household was falling? Oh, surely not! The late Lord Daum simply wasn’t up to the task of leadership anymore at his age. As the one in charge of taking over the estates, Bardullah had been busy in his studies and in planning for a grander future for the Daum household. What was currently visible was simply the mess of renovation!

He followed in this train of talk until he’d spoken to the last of the fashionable latecomers. Then, he retired to the side of the room and quietly listened to the talk around him. When he felt that the party was in full swing, he motioned for Hyrestl to come over.

The short man with the dark hair came to him and bowed.

“How may I serve you, my prince?”

“You may bring it out now.”

Hyrestl bowed and retreated into the kitchen as Bardullah called for everyone’s attention.

As Hyrestl opened the door to the cellar, he could hear Bardullah’s speech begin with his usual flair of thanking the guests for coming. He enjoyed hosting these parties despite all the stress of it. He could have never dreamed of hosting a prince in his own home country.

The party was going very well. Hyrestl had Rasha and a couple other girls from the town working as servers. It hadn’t been hard to get help for a party with nobles and the wealthy attending. However, it had been hard to get them appropriate clothes for the occasion, not to mention tutor them in correct etiquette. For the latter, he had mostly told them not to engage with the guests and to bow a lot.

It was dusk outside, so the small window at the end of the cellar didn’t give much light. He lit a lamp and made his way down. He set the lamp on a shelf level with his waist and began rolling barrels out of his way.

The sound of wooden kegs scratching on stone filled the room along with his breathing. He let a keg thump to the floor and moved another. Soon, he had reached the older kegs kept in the back.

Hyrestl got the lamp and held it close to the sides of the containers. No, that wasn’t the right one. He moved on to the next. That wasn’t the one either. He grunted as he shoved a barrel to the side with his hip to make more room. He turned one around so he could read the lettering on the side. Not that one. Perhaps it was the one in the corner?

He set the light down and moved a few more barrels. He heard a cheer from upstairs. He tilted the barrel and held the lamp up to it. This one was from a batch of the same year but grown in a valley where there hadn’t been any fighting.

Hyrestl stood up straight and looked around at the barrels. Had he missed it? He looked over each one again. But no, he couldn’t find it. The Blood Harvest Brew was gone.

He could hear the low murmur of people talking upstairs. They would be waiting on him now. He made a decision. He took the barrel that was from the same year and rolled it to the foot of the cellar stairs. Then, he turned it so that the writing faced him, and upstairs he set it down with the writing facing the kitchen wall and started filling crystal and golden goblets. He looked briefly over at the host, but found that he was casually engaged in talk with some of his guests.

Hyrestl filled all the glasses, setting them on the bar in rows. Only when he was done and stood waiting did Bardullah address his guests again.

“Now, here’s the moment you have been waiting for! Please, take for yourself a drink, and we shall have a toast!”

The guests came to the bar and each carried a drink away. Some commented on the rich color and the savory smell but refrained from tasting it yet.

Bardullah came up and chose a finely crafted crystal chalice. He held the glass to the light and his eyes searched the depths of the draft. He brought the drink to just under his nose and sniffed it. His eyes were lost in the distance for a moment. Something resembling confusion flashed across his face, then he smiled at those around him and took his place at the center of the crowd.

Hyrestl had watched Bardullah’s reaction closely and a part of him eased up.

The last person to pick up a glass was the mayor of Edge. He held his cup to the light, admiring the liquid within. He took a sniff and nodded, then held his cup aloft. All the guests raised their glasses as well.

“To His Royal Highness, Prince Bardullah Daum. May his future marked by the Sun Festival shine gloriously upon us and be the blessing for our own success.”

“So be it,” the guests said in unison, and all took a drink.

Hyrestl tensed as Bardullah took a small sip and swirled it about in his mouth. He nodded, as if it suited his taste quite well. His guests remarked on its impeccable flavor and savored every drop of it.

The party continued. Games were played in the upper floors, space was made in the main dining area, and dancers and other entertainment were brought in. Hyrestl was kept busy in the midst of it all. So much so that he didn’t notice when Bardullah sidled up to him.

“Hyrestl.”

Hyrestl looked up from where he was putting the finishing touches on a dessert. He quickly bowed.

“My prince, forgive me. If you had called, I would have been by your side in an instant.”

“No, I’m where I want to be.” Bardullah eyed the drink in his hand. “That brew from earlier, you should know that beer is a commoner’s drink. Seldom do the wealthy, much less princes, partake in such a vulgar draft.”

Hyrestl kept his head bowed.

“Now, since I am so fond of drink, I tried the commoner’s beers once. I wasn’t impressed. Save one, there wasn’t a batch that impressed me.” Bardullah looked down at the barman with a cold glare. “What have you done with the batch of brew from the upper valley of Edge during the eighth year of the twenty-second king?”

Hyrestl sank to his knees and bowed with his head to the floor.

“Please, Your Highness, forgive me. I don’t know where it has gone. I kept it safe for you, I swear. I don’t know what has become of it.”

Bardullah took his cold gaze off the supplicant and looked about the kitchen. Then, he stepped over to the cellar door.

“Your Highness, please, have one of your servants inspect every part of this place. Don’t lower yourself to do this work yourself.”

Bardullah opened the door. “You should watch your tongue. I do as I please. As a commoner, I wouldn’t expect you to understand what it is like having servants or how to use them. Stay there.”

He descended with one of the kitchen lanterns. After a few moments, Hyrestl heard him rummaging about. This continued for several minutes, during which he didn’t move.

Bardullah came back up and closed the door behind him. He brushed his sleeves as if they were dirty from coming into contact with mere air.

“I’m sure you didn’t notice—I didn’t expect you to—but there are those among my guests who were led to believe I had at my party one of the highest quality brews befitting their station. However, that brew you served was not one of those. You have made me lose face, and many of the guests I had hoped to become acquainted with at this party have been slighted.”

Hyrestl tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat.

Bardullah set his drink on the kitchen counter beside him as if dismissing it entirely.

“I could have you thrown in prison for this. Even worse if I felt like it. However, your race is an extreme rarity in Gwyan, as is the building you have here. It would be a waste to dispose of you and burn your possessions.”

Bardullah breathed in.

Rasha, one of Hyrestl’s serving girls hurried in and stopped short at the sight of the prince. She instantly bowed.

“Your Highness,” she said breathlessly.

A look of annoyance crossed his features, and he flicked his fingers in dismissal. She quickly retreated.

He turned back to Hyrestl and folded his arms across his chest.

“My verdict is this. You shall become my servant and work for me here for the rest of your life. I will direct a few of my men to come in the morning and begin the work necessary to make this a place worthy of being called a property of mine. You’re dismissed. Serve my guests to your fullest.”

Hyrestl was frozen in a daze. How had everything fallen to pieces in a single day? The inn didn’t give him any comfort anymore. Its walls closed in about him like a cage.