The Final Straw

"You should have told me last night," Brinn, disguised as Mairwen, fussed quietly at the fake Renat.

Alvar looked ashamed. "I was too caught up in the prince's magic and sickness. I really thought the assassin would be caught before he was able to go south."

The two elves sat huddled in the corner of the prince's bedchamber. They turned and looked at the prince, who was lying on the bed. Alaron had had a fitful night, but he seemed still enough now. Satisfied, the spymaster continued her clandestine conversation.

"You are sure the guy--what did you call him? Hemel?-- Are you sure he has not been caught?" Brinn tried to keep her voice down. She would have preferred to have this conversation elsewhere, but the Doctor had warned her that Alaron should be monitored at all times until he was awake.

"I was just in the hall pretending to be worried for your safety...I mean Mairwen's safety. Do not look at me like that. I am always worried about you." Alvar ran his finger along Brinn's arm to