"Every king must have one person… a person who is more concerned for their king's wellbeing than their own safety. They must be willing to put their life on the line. Therefore, they must also be an adept fighter. Devotion and skill are not enough to become a protectorate. The king's personal guard must also display wisdom beyond their age. The protectorate doubles as an advisor. In some ways the protectorate's abilities may surpass those of the king himself. Do not let this get to your head! The king has unquestioning authority and that is something the protectorate will never have. All should envy their king but none should envy the protectorate. As the king's advisor many will be jealous of the protectorate. As his personal guard he will see little action and will still be considered the best fighter in the kingdom. This too will cause blood to boil. No one should seek to become a protectorate. Yet, here I lay… a withered image of my former self. Asking for you, Tristan, to do precisely that. Tristan, do you accept my offer? Will you be prince Haroc's protectorate when my eyes go dark and my skin turns cold? Will you? Tristan? Tristan…"
"Tristan…. Wake up!"
Slowly opening his eyes Tristan could make out the blurry image of Parthius standing before him with arms crossed. Rising to his knees, a rush of pain quickly slapped Tristan in the back of his head where he had been attacked by the Parthius's sap.
"Here," Parthius's hand extended forward with a tiny wooden cup, "this will subdue the pain."
Grudgingly, Tristan reached for the miniature cup.
"Allow me to explain" Parthius began as Tristan came to the realization that his hands were tied behind his back. "You were unconscious for the better part of your initial journey into our forest. Next, we allowed you to carry yourself for the better part of an hour. I could not risk you finding your own way out so I was forced to knock you out for the latter part of the hike." Parthius had been pacing in front of Tristan. Now, stopping, he turned to face Tristan. "So you see, you have no idea which direction you were taken and for how long you traveled.
On instinct Tristan looked up to the sky. The sun was hovered almost directly above him. Seeing this, Parthius lost his smile.
"Well at least my daughter won't have a fool for a slave. You may know what time it is now but I doubt you remember when you left Excel. Even if you do, the direction you traveled after I knocked you out is a mystery to you. We covered our tracks so no one could follow us and so that you would not be able to find your way out." Leaning in close, Parthius looked into Tristan's eyes. Raising his silvered eyebrows he searched for understanding. "What I'm trying to tell you is that escape is futile. You would be killed long before you reached the forest's edge."
Circling Tristan, Parthius set the small cup on a table and untied Tristan's hands. The rope left no sores on Tristan's wrist as he expected, instead he almost missed its touch. Rising Tristan turned and reached for the cup. Drinking greedily Tristan instantly felt the pain in his head subsiding. "So what now?" Tristan asked.
"You're welcome for the tonic."
Tristan set the cup down and continued to stare at Parthius, waiting for an answer.
"Allowing a slave to drink potions is unheard of, especially from one of our own cups."
Tristan's unrelenting stare began to make Parthius feel somewhat uneasy.
"Right, straight to business then. Let me ask you Tristan, have you ever heard the term protectorate?"