[center][h3]The Exile
Morning of the Hunt[/h3][/center]

Torin was examining himself in the big mirror adorning his room when the servant announced his host’s arrival. Instead of hurrying to the door immediately, the young lord allowed himself another moment to gaze upon his reflection. Truly, the washers in Lord Haron’s service knew their stuff. His crimson doublet was meticulously cleaned and ironed, fitting his form perfectly and even the shirt underneath had regained its pristine whiteness as if it had never been soiled by his time on the road. 

“Tell Lord Haron that I will be with him momentarily.” he told the servant before turning to regard Nalin, who was busying himself with some of Torin’s other freshly cleaned clothes. 

As much as he chafed under the servants his mother had saddled him with, there was no denying that Nalin was a very useful man to have around. He was erudite, well-spoken and deft, possessing that all-important servant quality of being readily available and inconspicuous at the same time. 

“My lord, will you be wearing Lord Haron’s cloak today or shall I bring out one of your own?” Nalin asked, anticipating the question Torin was about to ask. 

That was another thing Nalin was good at. Like any competent and experienced manservant, he was always a step ahead of his lord’s wishes and seemed to know just what Torin needed at any given moment. It was a rare thing indeed for Torin to ever order anything mundane overtly as Nalin had usually taken care of it already. 

“The one Lord Haron so generously gifted, of course,“ Torin replied, “it will be seen as an insult to our host otherwise.” 

Nalin went to the sleeping chamber and returned a moment later with the cloak in hand, which he fastened around Torin’s shoulders with a golden clasp in the shape of an olive branch curled around a sword – the sigil of House Somares. The cloak itself was of the finest silk, dyed a deep black that matched the shade of his boots and breeches perfectly. Golden thread adorned its edges, in the same hue as the embroidery along his doublet. In this, as in all things, Lord Haron’s taste was exquisite.
 
Torin nodded at his reflection, while Nalin was bringing him his blade. The serving man offered to help with the sword belt, but Torin waved him away. Clothes were one thing, but a swordsman should be responsible for his own weapon. With the belt’s buckles adjusted, he cast one last glance at the mirror and issued some parting instructions. 

“Nalin, head down to the docks and ask around for news from Tear, I want to hear what’s been happening in my absence.” In truth, he was only interested in news pertaining to House Somares rather than Tear itself, but there was no need to clarify that unspoken fact. “Oh, and take Rosario with you. I hear he’s grown fond of gambling his coin away with Lord Haron’s soldiers and that reflects poorly on me.”

“My lord,“ Nalin began carefully, “would it not be more prudent for Rosario to accompany you on your trip to the Tammaz Square?”

“We are in the house of my cousin and friend, who just so happens to be one of the most powerful men in Illian. My safety is doubtlessly assured and I need not cast doubt on that by bringing my bodyguard along, don’t you agree?” It wasn’t a question and he expected no answer, so he continued. “Finally, see if you can’t find someone to mend the green doublet, I tore it while practicing my forms yesterday.” 

The request left a sour taste in Torin’s mouth. There was a time when he would simply have ordered a new one, but these days his coin purse was tighter than it used to be.  

“Of course, my lord. I have already spoken with one of Lord Haron’s seamstresses, I shall bring it to her shortly.” 

With that out of the way, Torin headed to the door beyond which his cousin and host was waiting. There was a slight hesitation in his movements, revealing the inner confusion which had gripped him for the past few days. He still didn’t know exactly what Lord Haron wanted with him. The two of them were bound my blood, though not through immediate relatives; Torin vaguely recalled a mention of a great-aunt marrying an Illianer in the family records, but it was not a matter he had ever taken an interest in.

Thus, when he had received an invitation to Lord Haron’s estate, he had thought his cousin to be nothing more than a bored bureaucrat, eager for some juicy gossip from Tear. Torin had been naturally cautious, it was a known fact that Illianers were deceitful knaves and bastards for the most part, but he had decided to entertain the man’s request. Of course, the sight of the lavish mansion and the meeting with Lord Haron himself dispelled that notion completely. He should have asked Nalin, he was surprisingly knowledgeable of such things. Maybe then he would have realised that his cousin was the most powerful man in the city, save perhaps for the King himself. 

Whatever the case, here he was – an honoured guest. Despite his busy schedule, Lord Haron found time to call upon him each day and, he grudgingly had to admit, Torin found him to be enjoyable company. The current head of House Gregoras was an energetic man, despite the grey in his hair he possessed the vigour to rival a youth. From what Torin had learned that was due to Haron’s tenure with the Whitecloaks, during which he had earned the title of Blademaster, a title which Torin had long dreamed of attaining. 

He willed himself to focus on the present. He was here now and that’s all that mattered. People like Lord Haron seldom did something if it did not benefit them, so he was certain that being kept here offered some sort of advantage to his host, however small or irrelevant it was. Torin had politely, but firmly steered his conversations with Lord Haron away from politics, insisting that the sole reason for coming to Illian was the Great Hunt. And now that the day of the Hunt had finally come, there was no need to sour one’s mood with such grim thoughts.

Torin opened the door and stepped into the hallway, where he inclined his head in respect. 
 
“Lord Haron, greetings! I trust I did not keep you waiting too long?”