Tal listened as he walked and let his hunters instincts serve him well. He had learned years earlier that a city was nothing but a different kind of wilderness, and that the skills he had learned as a child in the mountains to the far north, across the sea, could keep him alive in any city. Each place had its own rhythm and pace, its own dynamic feeling, and once he was comfortable within that environment, threats and opportunities for a hunt would be recognized, just as they were in the wild.
Whoever followed him was desperately trying to keep a proper distance and would have gone unnoticed by anyone less keenly aware of his surroundings than Tal. Tal knew this area of the city as well as anyone born here, and he knew he would be able to lose his stalker at whim. But he was curious as to who was following him, and more to the point, why.
Tal paused for half a step, just enough of a break in the rhythm of his walking for his stalker to reveal his whereabouts, then continued. He turned right at the corner, and stepped inside a deep doorway, the entrance to a tailor shop he had frequented. Forgoing his sword, he deftly removed a dagger from his belt and waited. At the moment Tal expected, the man following him turned the corner and stepped in front of him.
Tal reached out and grabbed the mans right shoulder, bearing down and twisting as he pulled. The man reacted, but Tal was quicker; the stalker did exactly as Tal anticipated, hesitating for an instant before reflexively pulling away. Tal yanked upward using the mans own motion to spin him completely around. Suddenly the stalker found himself hard against the door with Tals dagger at his throat.
Why are you following me? Tal asked, his voice a hissed whisper lest he arouse those asleep upstairs above the shop.
The man was quick, for his hands were moving towards his own dagger before the last syllable was uttered. He was also no fool, for he recognized he was in a hopeless situation a scant moment before Talon would be forced to plunge the blade into his throat. He slowly raised his hands to show they were empty. In a whisper, he answered, Magnificence! I mean you no harm! My sword and dagger are still at my belt! He spoke in the language of the Kingdom of the Isles.
Who are you?
I am Petro Amafi.
Amafi? Thats Quegan. But you speak the language of the Isles.
I have resided in Salador many years now and, to tell the truth, my command of the Roldemish tongue is lacking, so I employ the Kings Tongue.
Tell me, Amafi, why are you following me? Tal repeated.
I am an assassin by trade. I have been paid to kill you.
Tal took a step back, leaving his blade against the mans throat, but gaining a perspective on him.
Petro Amafi was a half-head shorter than Tals two inches over six feet, with broad shoulders and a barrel chest. His clothing marked him as a foreigner; he wore a curious long tunic, gathered at the waist by a black leather belt, and rather than the long wide-bottomed trousers affected by the style-conscious in Roldem this season, he wore leggings and a courtiers slippers. He sported a moustache and goatee and upon his head he wore a felted wool beret with a clasp and feather on the left side. His face was narrow, with deep eyes that revealed his menace more than his vulpine appearance. You mean me no harm, but youre an assassin sent to kill me. Something of a contradiction, dont you agree? observed Tal.
I gain nothing by hiding the truth, Magnificence. My life is preserved by your ignorance. Should you kill me this moment, you will wonder who hired me.
Tal chuckled. That is true. So, then, we are at an impasse, for should you tell me, then I must kill you. So it is to your benefit not to tell me. But as I cannot spend the rest of my life waiting for you to divulge who sent you, so I gain nothing by keeping you alive.
Wait! said Amafi, holding out his hand in a conciliatory gesture. I did not come to kill you. I was hired to do so, but I have been observing you since nearly a week before you departed Salador and I wish to bargain.
For your life?
More, Magnificence. Let me serve.
Youd take service with me? said Tal in dubious tones.
Willingly, Your Magnificence. Any man of your skills would be a worthy master, for I have seen you duel in the Court of Blades in Salador, and Ive watched from the corner as you play cards in the ale houses; you win just enough to raise no suspicions, yet you are a master cheat. You are welcome in the homes of the great and near-great. You are admired by men and desired by women. Whats more, no one has ever done what you just have, turned me from hunter to hunted. But most telling of all, you are Champion of the Masters Court, the greatest blade in the world, and a rumour circulates that you are secretly in the service of Duke Kaspar of Olasko, and one who serves such as Kaspar can only prosper greatly. I wish to prosper greatly with you.
He gently moved the tip of Tals blade away from his throat with one finger, and Tal permitted it. As you can see, Magnificence, I am getting on in years, nearly sixty of them. The assassins trade requires skills that are fading as I age. I must think of my latter days, and while I have kept some part of the fees paid me over the years, it is not enough. I have fallen on hard times.
Tal laughed. Bad investments?
Amafi nodded. A trading concern out of Salador, most recently. No, I wish to take my bloody skills and use them to a more permanent advantage. Were I your man, then I would rise with you. Do you see?
Tal put away his dagger. How can I trust you?
I will swear an oath in whatever temple you require.
Tal considered. Few men would willingly break oath, even if they werent as honour-bound as the Orosini. Who told you I was in Kaspars service?
A rumour here, there, nothing more. You were reported to have been seen in the region of Latagore where Duke Kaspar has interests, and it is well known he sought you out after you won the competition at the Masters Court two years ago. Duke Kaspar employs only the most gifted and ambitious young men, so it is assumed you are his.
Well, Im not, replied Tal, intentionally turning his back on Amafi. He knew he took a risk, for as much as the assassin claimed age was slowing him down, Tal judged him capable of a swift attack from behind if given the opportunity. The attack didnt come.
Instead, Amafi fell into step beside Tal. You wish to know who sent me?
Yes, replied Tal.
Lord Piotre Miskovas, though I am not supposed to know this.
He does hold a grudge, observed Tal. I havent slept with his wife in more than two years.
As I understand it, she became intoxicated at a gala given by Lady Amsha Detoris, and threw the facts of your liaison into her husbands face over supper some months after you last left the city. The couple are yet not reconciled and she abides in her suites here in the city, while he resides at their estates in the country. He blames you.
He should look to his own philandering, remarked Tal, for had he not been so quick to bed every pretty face he saw, his wife would not have been so eager to receive my attentions.
Perhaps, Magnificence, but it takes a man of unusual character to openly confront his own shortcomings. Its so much more convenient to blame others.
Upon hearing of your planned return, he sought out an assassin far less discreetly than he should have and I was hired to remove this he pointed at Tal blot on his honour. He was at least intelligent enough to have used a broker in Salador, lest blame fall upon him here in Roldem. I have failed, so I am honour-bound to return his gold, and seek to turn this failure into a triumph. Employ me, Magnificence, and I will serve you. My oath upon it!
Perhaps, Magnificence, but it takes a man of unusual character to openly confront his own shortcomings. Its so much more convenient to blame others.
Upon hearing of your planned return, he sought out an assassin far less discreetly than he should have and I was hired to remove this he pointed at Tal blot on his honour. He was at least intelligent enough to have used a broker in Salador, lest blame fall upon him here in Roldem. I have failed, so I am honour-bound to return his gold, and seek to turn this failure into a triumph. Employ me, Magnificence, and I will serve you. My oath upon it!
Tal considered his next move. He had been back in Roldem for less than a day and needed reliable eyes and ears. Until such time as you can successfully betray me without risk?
Amafi grinned. Possibly, my lord, for I have never been a man of constant heart. But oath-breaking does not come easily even to one such as me, and given your rare talents I suspect such a time would never exist, for it would require an opportunity to become even richer than I hope to become in your service.
Tal laughed. Amafi had a refreshing candour that made Tal think he could trust the assassin up to a point, anyway and as long as he didnt attempt to press him beyond that point, he should prove a reliable servant. Very well, let us to the Temple of Lims-Kragma, where you will swear an oath.
Amafi grimaced. I was thinking perhaps Ruthia or Astalon, he said, naming the Goddess of Luck and the God of Justice.
I think wagering your chance at being reborn to a higher station a good hedge against betrayal, said Talon, putting away his weapon. Come along. And, we must work on your Roldemish. We may be here a while.
If Amafi thought even for an instant to draw his weapon and strike, he masked the impulse completely, quickly moving to fall into step beside his new master as they vanished into the fog shrouding the city.
The magician stood in the corner, his features veiled in shadow. Tal knew his face even if he couldnt see it in the gloom. A single candle burned in the apartment, and that was on the table in the next room, casting a faint light through the open door.
Wheres your new man? he asked.
Tal said, I sent him on an errand. What did you find out?
Stepping out of the shadows, the magician revealed himself to be a tall man of lean features, a striking face with a long straight nose, dramatic cheekbones and startling blue eyes. His hair was so pale, it appeared almost white. He said, Informants in Queg have vouched for Amafi. At least they have vouched for his reputation as an assassin.
A reputable assassin, said Tal. Thats a quaint notion.
Hes considered something of an honourable man in the context of his trade, declared Magnus, son of Pug of Sorcerers Isle, and one of Tals many teachers over the years.
Its beginning, said Tal. Lady Gavorkin confirmed last night that Duke Kaspar is to arrive by weeks end and will be ensconced in the palace with his cousin the King. Pasko? How many invitations arrived today?
Seventeen, master, he answered.
By months end, I imagine I will be in a position to make the re-acquaintance of the Duke at one gala or another.
Your plan? asked Magnus.
I need to establish a link with Kaspar, then find a reason to call out Prince Matthew.
Is that necessary?
Almost certainly, said Tal. For while Im vague on the details I think I have anticipated Duke Kaspars larger goals in his manoeuvrings over the last few years.
This is something you didnt mention before leaving the island, said Magnus.
Tal nodded. Because I didnt fully see the pattern until a few hours ago. And I may be wrong, but I believe all his actions in the north to be nothing more than a bloody, murderous ruse, and his anticipated invasion of the Kingdom through Farinda a feint.
To what end?
To keep the Kingdom busy up north while he works towards his true goal in the south.
And that is? asked Magnus impatiently.
I have no idea. But it could involve Roldem or Kesh, and keeping the Kingdom occupied along a long, empty border would work to Kaspars advantage.
Im no military expert, but it seems to me if he sends a force into the Kingdom of the Isles, they will respond in strength. If Kaspar sends in small companies, each can occupy a much larger force if they scatter across the plains. From the foothills at the border to the Blackwood north of Dolth, youve got almost a thousand miles of grasslands. King Ryan of the Isles would be forced to tie up a huge number of men hunting down a relatively small army.
So, the question is, if Kaspar wants that army up in the grasslands, where does he plan on striking?
Magnus said, I will convey your theory to Father. He put a broad-brimmed felt hat on his head, and removed a device from within his dark grey robe, an orb that glowed with copper highlights in the candlelight. He depressed the surface with his thumb and suddenly he wasnt there, the only sign of his departure being a small inrush of air.
Pasko said, But why?
Why? echoed Tal. Why what?
Why all the plotting? Kaspar is as powerful in his own way as the King of Roldem. He effectively rules Aranor; the Prince does his bidding. He either controls or intimidates every nation surrounding Olasko, and he has the King of Roldems ear. Why does he want this war with the Isles?
Tal sat back. I thought it obvious. By destabilizing the region, opportunity arises for Kaspar to gain what he wants most of all. Tal laced his fingers together and stared at the candle over balled fists. He tapped his chin lightly with his hands as he muttered, Men of power seek only one thing: more power.
Chapter Two Reception
TAL SMILED.
This was his first time in the palace since his victory in the Masters Court Tournament two years earlier. The King had sent an invitation for Talwin Hawkins to attend the welcoming gala to celebrate the arrival of the Duke of Olasko.
Tal had waited patiently in line for his turn to be presented, behind all the nobility of Roldem, most of those from other nations, and just ahead of the wealthiest commoners. A squire from the Kingdom of the Isles stood barely above a ribbonmaker with a great deal of gold in the eyes of the Roldemish court.
Even so, Tal stood resplendent in a pair of new wide-legged trousers the current fashion with his boots covered to the buckles, and a broad black leather belt, but he chose to wear a currently out-of-fashion tunic a yellow doublet sewn with seed pearls. While other nobles were wearing the off-the-shoulder military singlet which was now all the rage, Talon had chosen to wear the jacket which had been given to him as a gift by the King two years ago.
When last he had met the King, Tal had been the centre of attention, the winner of the Tournament of Masters, the recipient of the golden sword, emblematic of his being the worlds greatest swordsman.
Now Kaspar of Olasko was the focus of the gala, and Tal but a minor participant. When he at last heard his name called, Tal moved forward briskly and approached the throne. He took in the tableau before him as he reached the point where he was expected to bow before the Crown. King Carol sat on his throne, his wife Queen Gertrude to his right. On his left hand sat Crown Prince Constantine, heir to the throne. Tal remembered the Prince as a quiet boy with curious eyes, one given to slight smiles as he listened closely to the banter of the adults around him. Tal suspected he was an intelligent child. The younger members of the royal family were absent, the other two Princes and the Princess no doubt being made ready for bed by their servants and nannies.