King of Foxes (19 page)

Since our lord and master is not given to overblown praise, he is also in your debt. So you have a chance, slim as it might be, to court our lady.”

“The lady is the Duke’s most important treasure,” observed Tal. “She will be wed to whichever ruling prince most advantages Olasko, I’ll wager.”

With a laugh, the lieutenant said, “You’re no country boy, Hawkins, that’s for certain.”

The banquet continued for another half an hour, and _______________

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Tal put the conversation with Lieutenant Adras behind him. He knew that if he continued his affair with Natalia, he was putting himself in harm’s way, but to spurn her advances might make him a powerful enemy who was close to the Duke.

He glanced at a lovely blond woman sitting to the left of the Duke who was engaged in conversation with another of the many courtiers present. The Lady Rowena had entered tonight on Kaspar’s arm, and it was Tal’s first opportunity to see her since he had come back to Opardum from the Southern Islands.

She had been absent when he first came to the city, os-tensibly away visiting her family. Tal knew she had no family, as she had been raised on Sorcerer’s Isle, so he wondered what she had been up to. He knew that it would be impossible to find out. Both he and his former lover were deep in their roles, so neither would acknowledge the existence of Talon of the Silver Hawk or Alysandra.

Seeing her always made him consider the emotional punishment he had gone through at her hands. He felt only a hint of pity, for he knew she was a broken thing, devoid of true feelings for any person, content to take instruction from Miranda, mistress of Sorcerer’s Isle, and the only person who could effectively control the young woman.

As the banquet ended, a page appeared and said,

“Squire, the Duke requests your presence in his private apartment.”

Tal followed the page and soon entered a luxurious room with a low round table and half a dozen chairs spread around it. Sideboards, candlestands of gold, mirrors, and tapestries decorated the place. On the table rested a crystal decanter and several crystal goblets.

Kaspar sat alone. He motioned for Tal to take another seat. A servant poured wine for them, then departed.

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“I’ve decided to send you to Salmater, Talwin. You will take my message to His Highness, the Prince of Salmater.”

“Sir?”

“It will be short but very flowery, very diplomatic.

The heart of it will be this: he will acknowledge me as his liege lord and submit, or else I will reduce his city to rubble around his ears.” With a grin, he asked, “How do you think he’ll react?”

Tal sipped his wine, to gain a moment in which to consider this. Then he said, “Not knowing the man, that might be hard to anticipate, but I can’t imagine he’ll be pleased.”

Kaspar laughed. “No, he most certainly won’t be. But he is a fool, and someone is using him.”

“Who, Your Grace?”

“Almost certainly Paul of Miskalon. It might be someone else, but I doubt it. Prince Janosh of Salmater is wed to Duke Paul’s sister, and she rules the Prince. She might meet with an untimely accident . . .”

“Your Grace?”

“Not yet, but that is a possibility.” Kaspar reached down behind his chair, drew out a map, and placed it on the table. “Here are the disputed lands, Tal. Olasko, Salmater, Miskalon, Roskalon, Maladon and Simrick, Far Lorin, and Aranor all have claims to part or all of those lands.” He sat back. “Some of us have better claims and others of us have bigger armies.”

Kaspar watched as Tal studied the map.

Then the Duke said, “Olasko has four frontiers to be concerned with. You’ve already uncovered a problem on one of them, among the islands that comprise our southern province.

“To the north we have the thugs up in Bardac’s Hold-

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fast. As long as they stay thugs, I don’t worry. I keep enough troops in the City of the Guardian to make them think twice about raiding south, and they have their own problems to the north with County Conar—that merry band of murderers would make anyone nervous.”

Tal said nothing, but he remembered stories about the men from Conar; they were close enough to the land of the Orosini that there had been conflicts before.

“To the west,” continued Kaspar, “is my cousin in Aranor, about whom I have no concerns.

“That leaves the east.”

“Which is the sea,” said Tal.

“Which is the sea,” agreed Kaspar. “The sea can be a great barrier, but it also can be a highway. If you study the histories of the late war in the Kingdom some thirty years ago, you’ll find that an army came from halfway around the world by ship, and they laid waste to nearly half the Western Realm before being destroyed.”

Tal said, “So you seek to secure borders?”

“Yes,” said Kaspar. “And more. Some of which I’ll tell you later, but for now consider this: while Kesh and the Isles have been raising up mighty nations, under one rule of law, under one common administration in each nation, the Eastern Kingdoms have been squabbling like poor relatives at a feast over kitchen scraps.

“Only Olasko’s unique relationship with Roldem keeps the Kingdom of the Isles at bay. Roldem’s navy is vast, for she is an island nation, and just the presence of that fleet makes our eastern frontier secure.” With a chuckle, he said, “As long as we stay on good terms with Roldem.

“No, it’s to the south I must look right now, and eventually in other directions, but before I have finished, I mean to bring all these squabbling, petty little rulers to _______________

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heel; and then what is now a collection of independent little kingdoms, principalities, and duchies will be fused into one nation, with one ruler.”

Tal said nothing, but he realized now that what he had suspected before was true: that Kaspar craved power. He just hadn’t anticipated the particular vision that served Kaspar as the vehicle for his ambition.

“So, go and rest. Tomorrow you leave for Salmater. I will have all the necessary papers for your office drawn up, as well as my message for Prince Janosh.”

Tal rose and bowed, departing quickly. He hurried to his quarters, thinking that now he was becoming fully Kaspar’s creature.

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NINE

EMISSARY

Tal stood silently.

Before him rose the throne of Prince Janosh of Salmater, a slender man with a distracted expression who blinked constantly and appeared to have difficulty sitting still. Next to him sat Princess Svetlana, who eyed Tal coolly as the Prince’s first minister read the missive from Duke Kaspar.

When at last the reading of the demand for submission was over, the Prince said, “Well, I never.” He looked at his wife, and said, “Madam, have you ever?”

Ignoring her husband, the Princess addressed Tal.

“So, Kaspar is seeking war?”

Tal inclined his head. “No, Majesty. My duke is seeking resolution for a problem that has plagued this region for generations. I am instructed to make this as clear as I can.” He turned and motioned to Amafi, who today was _______________

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dressed as finely as Tal. The manservant stepped forward and handed a pouch of black velvet to his master, who opened it and turned it upside down, allowing a dozen medallions to fall to the marble floor with a clatter.

“These twelve medallions were taken from the corpses of a dozen ‘pirates’ who were on a mapping expedition of sovereign Olasko territory. Had these men been simple merchants, my lord Kaspar would have been more than obliging in seeing they had up-to-date charts of the acknowledged trading routes. We can only assume they were up to mischief.”

“Medallions?” said the Prince. “What have medallions to do with maps?”

The First Minister, a whip-thin man named Odeski, looked at Tal with a narrowed gaze, his blue eyes trying to ascertain the quality of the man before him. Tal looked from him to the Princess, ignoring the Prince for a pointed moment, then speaking to the monarch. “Majesty, those medallions belong to your Black Lions.”

“My Black Lions?” The Prince positively fluttered with confusion. “What have my guards to do with this?”

Odeski said, “Majesty, I think it best if we adjourn from the court and retire to less public quarters, where we may discuss this matter at leisure.”

“Yes, that sounds capital,” said the Prince, rising.

The Princess followed her husband, and as she passed, she studied Tal minutely. When they had departed, Odeski said, “We shall be in chambers for the afternoon.

I suggest you return to your allotted quarters and stay in them. Diplomatic status protects you only in the palace.

Our more common thugs do not care if Duke Kaspar gets upset over your demise.”

“Your point is made,” said Tal.

A court page escorted Tal and Amafi back to the _______________

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quarters they had been given upon arrival the day before. Tal glanced around, as if expecting to be ambushed at any minute, but they reached the apartment without incident.

Tal motioned to Amafi to check to ensure they were alone, and when the assassin-turned-manservant did so, he nodded. At the table, Tal took out a writing pack. He unfolded it, and said aloud, “I wonder what the Prince’s answer to the Duke might be.”

“Who can say, Magnificence?” Amafi replied.

Tal took out a charcoal and wrote on a parchment,

“Can you do it?” Then he showed this message to Amafi.

Amafi smiled. “I should find my way to the kitchen, Magnificence, and see to having some fruit and wine sent here. Our hosts have been remiss in providing for the comfort of an envoy from a neighboring nation.”

He bowed and left the room while Tal crossed over to the fireplace and threw the parchment in. They could be certain they weren’t being watched, but they had no certainty someone wasn’t listening close by.

Tal threw himself down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. His mind returned to the first night at sea on the fast ship that had sped them south from Opardum.

The Duke had given him a portfolio containing his documents, instructions, the medals from the dead soldiers, and a note with the ducal seal on it, which said, “Open when you are alone at sea.”

He had waited until after dark to open the note, and within found only one instruction:
Kill Princess Svetlana
.

Then he had gone up on deck and thrown the message overboard.

He now understood Kaspar’s instruction. Without his iron-willed princess, Prince Janosh was a fool who could be easily controlled.

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A short time later, Amafi returned to find Tal half-dozing on the bed. “Magnificence,” he said softly.

Tal sat up. “I am awake. I was just thinking.” He got up and went over to the table and wrote, “What did you find?”

Aloud, Amafi said, “I got lost, master, and a servant was kind enough to direct me to the kitchen. The majordomo of the palace is beside himself that no one saw to your comfort, and food will be arriving shortly.” Then he wrote on the parchment, “I have found a way.”

Tal said, “Well, that will be welcome. I’m feeling peckish.”

He threw the parchment into the fire just as a knock came at the door. Amafi opened it, and three servants entered with trays. One bore cheeses, breads, and fruit, the next pastries and sweet candy, and the last wine and glasses.

Tal waited until they were gone, then sampled the wine. “Good,” he said, and meant it.

“Shall I leave you to rest?” Amafi asked.

“Yes,” said Tal. “While we wait for a response from the Prince, hurry into the city and see if you can find a gift suitable for the Lady Natalia. And while you’re at it, find an apothecary and see if they have something for sea-sickness. That last trip was damned uncomfortable.”

“At your command, Magnificence.” Amafi hurried out. He would go to the Captain of the Palace Guard, requesting an escort, and would be detailed a pair of bored palace guards, who would follow him as he ambled from shop to shop. Along the way, besides some pretty trinkets for the Duke’s sister, Amafi would secure some items of a less felicitous nature.

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The atmosphere at the state dinner that evening proved as warm as the mountain streams of his youth in winter, thought Tal. The Prince and Princess ignored Tal absolutely as much as possible without breaching political decorum. He had been politely greeted once, moved to a table occupied by military officers who spoke in monosyl-lables and otherwise ignored him, and at one point during the meal, the Prince politely asked him if he was enjoying his food and wine, to which Tal had graciously replied in the affirmative.

Tal had been back in his quarters for less than half an hour, inspecting the gifts Amafi had found, when a knock came at the door.

In Quegan, Tal said, “It can’t be a reply to the Duke at this late hour, can it?”

Amafi smiled and shrugged. “Anything is possible, Magnificence.”

Tal opened the door to find a young woman standing there. She said, “Sir, the Princess requests your presence in her apartment.”

Tal looked over his shoulder at Amafi and said, “Anything is possible.”

He followed the young woman through a corridor, then past a pair of guards at their post. She led him along another long hallway that led past the throne room and down a side corridor. At a large ornate doorway, the girl paused and knocked. “Enter,” came a voice from the other side.

The girl opened the door and let Tal enter first. He stepped through and found himself in a large drawing room, lit only by a few candles. The girl said, “The envoy, Highness.”

Princess Svetlana sat on a long divan, her legs drawn up under her in a very casual pose. She said, “Leave us.”

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The girl bowed and departed, leaving Tal alone with the Princess. He took a quick look around the room and kept a straight face, for he had an impulse to smile. He bowed and said, “Ma’am?”