Ca’armine does not like being caged, he discovers. On reflection, he realizes, neither does he prefer being ambushed. Or, violating the sanctity of the Collegium, which he can’t help but respect and even fear. He muses, “I can forgive myself for drawing my weapons when the enemy attacked, since they were in earnest about killing us. But I am doubtful the Collegium will overlook the transgression.
He paces. Back and forth in the cell, stepping around his companions, watchful. He has not been traveling with them long, but he feels sure they will not harm him nor help themselves without aiding him too. However, he is learning that they are not infallible.
“Who is?” he chides himself. But he realizes, in his longing to join a group, to take up the cause and make meaning out of the exile in which he found himself, he unwittingly created in his mind, a vision of these heroes (surely they deserve that title!) as larger-than-life.
“They are powerful, certainly, but they do make mistakes.” He thinks about the nonchalance with which Alexis led the stopover at the Collegium today. “Rask didn’t even put on armor! As if he could blend in with the crowd. As if any of us could!” He shakes his head.
He is loathe to tell Alexis, or any of the group, what they should or should not do… but at the same time they would be wise to emulate his long habit of stealth and concealment. “What do we stand to gain, boarding in the gaudy manor of their friend the thief? Why are we operating in Suthron at all? I long to strike a blow at the Dark Hand, but it seems we are easily manipulated, by anyone who tells us we are getting closer to finding them. We are in truth pursuing the agendas of others, more interested in gold than in justice.”
