Trest leaned back against the soft pillows which propped him and let a delicious smile ebb across his lips as he looked wistfully toward the thatched ceiling. Smoke from the burning candles placed around his bed accumulated softly in the darkness under the roof and he could hear the scratching movements of birds outside, cooing or picking curiously at the straw.
He rubbed a hand over his closely shorn head, feeling the stubble scratch his palm, and looked up at the ornate regalia which adorned the aging, berobed figure before him with indifference.
"If those are my two choices," he said, "then I chose neither."
And just that quickly -- and smoothly, with a fluid grace that belied no urgency, in a nearly hypnotic manner, Trest was on his feet. He took a single step toward Valorian and reached out for the man, but Valorian deftly sidestepped the attempt. Trest thrust out both hands, this time with a little more resolve, but again the old man proved difficult to snare, and used his staff to give Trest's knuckles a rap for his troubles. Trest withdrew his hand and shook away the pain, then quickly threw himself to the floor at Valorian's feet and kicked out at the man's ankles. The old man was nimble however, and obviously expected such a maneuver; he hopped easily over Trest's outstretched leg and poked him a couple of times with his staff.
Trest cursed his cockiness and rolled away, lest he get whacked again with that old, weathered rod in the old man's hands. He deserved to get whacked with his show of disrespect. Though the old man might have looked ancient, he had been an iron warrior before Trest's father was born.
"Valorian, High Priest of Thor, my name Trest D'euchante, but I am not a lost cause for you and your priesthood to take in and train to become an assassin within your little network of sin within the walls of the Church. I have a warrant for your capture, signed by Cardinal Relst himself, for your part in the conspiracy against the Crown."
Valorian only acknowledged Trest's words with a sigh, "Then I take it you were not actually at death's door last night then?"
"Only a drug to make me appear as such," Trest took a step toward Valorian, who retreated a step, "to get me within earshot of your ego."
Valorian tilted his head to the side, almost sadly, as if he wanted to share something more with the young man, "I'm afraid I cannot allow you to take me, mister D'euchante, for I have much to do right here before the next phase of the moon. Your efforts at subterfuge, alas, amount for naught. Now you'll forgive me as I take my leave of you."
Trest's smile split into a big, toothy grin and he said, "I don't think so."