Page 8 of King of Foxes


  Master Vassily hurried over and said, “Are you totally bereft of reason?”

  Smiling at the Prince, Tal answered, “Quite the opposite, really, Master Vassily.”

  In low, warning tones, Vassily said, “If I were you, Squire, I’d consider a voyage somewhere very soon.

  Champion of the Masters’ Court or not, you’ve just made a very dangerous enemy. The Prince may be many things, but forgiving is not one of them.”

  Tal locked eyes across the room with Prince Matthew and saw that through the tears of anger and humiliation, barely checked rage was directed at him. “Yes, I believe you’re right,” said Tal. He let the mockery in his voice sound as he allowed his words to carry to those nearby.

  “But judging from this afternoon’s bout, he’s really not all that dangerous.”

  Unable to think of another thing to say, the Master of the Floor turned and left him. Tal walked to a distant corner where Pasko and Amafi waited. Pasko understood what had taken place, but Amafi said, “Magnificence, are you inclined to suicide?”

  “No, not really. Why?”

  “For the Prince now wants you dead.” With a bright smile, he added, “And he does have enough gold that I would at least consider betraying you.”

  Tal laughed, again loudly enough for those nearby to think that he was enjoying the moment. “Then don’t betray me, and I’ll consider increasing your pay.”

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  “Yes, Magnificence.”

  As they headed to the changing room, Pasko whispered, “Be careful. Even before the bout was over, Matthew’s agents were leaving the building with word of his humbling. You’ve made a powerful enemy.”

  Tal let out his breath slowly, as if releasing the tension he had felt inside. “Then I think it’s time to seek out a powerful friend.”

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  FIVE

  SERVICE

  Kaspar smiled.

  ‘So, young Hawkins, I see you’ve managed to create a decidedly uncomfortable position for yourself.” Duke Kaspar sat back in a large chair, motioning for his servant to fill a pair of wine cups on a round table in a room that was part of a large apartment given to him by the King to use on his visit.

  Amafi stood just outside the door in his role of manservant, while Pasko was back at the apartment making ready for his departure. The story of a sick father was acceptable to him, and he had already purchased passage on a ship bound for Prandur’s Gate, where he would find another ship to Coastal Watch, then by wagon to Kendrick’s. He would be gone within the week.

  Tal had sent the Duke a message the day before requesting an audience, and the next morning a palace page _______________

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  had delivered the reply. Tal was invited for a late-afternoon meeting, but advised to use one of the palace servants’ entrances rather than the main gate, for obvious reasons.

  Kaspar lounged in a brocade-trimmed tunic that buttoned up to the neck, a fashion Tal had not seen; it must be something worn in Olasko, he thought. “I judged you to be a young man of uncommon sense and calm judgment. What caused you to do such an uncharacteristic thing?”

  Tal picked up his cup and sniffed the wine out of habit. He sipped, then said, “Ah, this must be the new vin-tage from Krushwin in Ravenswood!”

  Kaspar’s eyebrows raised, and he said, “You know your wine, Talwin. Yes, it arrived last month, and the King was kind enough to have a few bottles waiting here when I arrived. Now, answer the question.”

  The last was as pointed a command as Kaspar had ever directed at Tal.

  Tal tried to look sheepish. “Prince Matthew is a boor.”

  “True, but that hardly makes him unique among nobles here in Roldem. Why humiliate him in public?”

  “Because I couldn’t kill him and avoid the headsman, I suppose,” said Tal, taking a sip of wine to give him pause. “Had he not been a royal, I would have called him out on a matter of honor.”

  “Oh?” said the Duke, his brows rising again. “Whose honor? Certainly not yours? You seem to be a pragmatic sort, not one given to overblown principles.”

  Realizing he hadn’t thought this through as thoroughly as he should, Tal said, “A lady’s honor, sir?”

  “You’re in dispute with Prince Matthew over a lady?”

  Tal knew this wouldn’t undergo close scrutiny if he strayed too far from a plausible story, so he improvised.

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  “Not in dispute, but rather in defense. The lady in question is a widow, and the Prince has been . . . too enthusiastic over pressing his attentions on her.”

  “Ah, then it would be Lady Gavorkin,” said Kaspar with a chuckle. “I have sources for gossip here as well as in my own court.”

  Tal shrugged. “The lady and I have been close. While I have no interest in marriage, she is looking for a new husband should circumstances permit, for already the Crown is considering taking away some of her estates, and she fears the loss of revenue.”

  Kaspar waved away further comment. “I know her situation. Had Matthew been seen in public with her, other interested noble sons would avoid her. I understand.”

  Tal wasn’t certain if Kaspar believed the story or not.

  All Tal had go on was one remark Lady Gavorkin had made when he had come to call upon her one afternoon: that she found the Prince repellent.

  “Still,” asked Kaspar with another chuckle, “did you have to make him cry like a child in public?”

  “Better than killing him,” offered Tal.

  “Perhaps not.” Kaspar said, “You have made a very bad enemy, because Matthew has no shred of forgiveness in his nature. He is the only member of the King’s close family who would use his power to avenge a personal slight. Even now there may be a bounty on your head. I’d watch your back for assassins, young Hawkins.”

  “That’s why I’ve come to you.”

  “With the King I might have some influence, and I am in your debt. But with Matthew . . .” He spread his hands and shrugged.

  “Matthew wouldn’t dare attack me directly if I were in your service, Your Grace. I have decided to take you up on your offer of employment.”

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  Kaspar sat back. “I understand the cause, but it seems a sudden reversal, to be blunt.”

  “I weighed your offer before, Your Grace, and seriously considered it. I had hoped, however, to be able to find a position with a trading concern out of Salador, Ran and Bas-Tyra. Perhaps you’ve met their local agent, Quincy de Castle?”

  A tiny flicker in Kaspar’s eyes revealed the lie as he said, “Don’t know the man. But why trading?”

  Tal paused, as if gathering his thoughts. “I’m a noble only by the thinnest thread, Your Grace. The head of my family barely knows I exist, for I am a third cousin, once removed.” He lowered his voice. “I only hold the title

  ‘Squire’ by a deft manipulation of a local magistrate on my father’s part, truth to tell. And the lands that come with that title provide no income.” Returning to a normal tone, he said, “To advance, I need two things: wealth and fame. I could either join the army—and truth to tell, I tried that for a little while, and thrashing goblins in the cold north is no route to either—or I could marry well.

  But to marry well, I need wealth and fame. A circle, don’t you see?”

  “I do.”

  “So I came east. Here is where politics and trade give a man opportunity, not out in the west. There it’s all duty and service, but here a man can find prospects. So, becoming Champion of the Masters’ Court gave me fame.

  And if I could rise financially with de Castle and his part-ners, then would I have wealth.”

  “I appreciate the general design, Squire, but aren’t there more direct routes?”

  “None that I can see. My
best opportunity was Lady Gavorkin, but the Crown would never approve her marrying a poor country squire from the Isles.”

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  “Especially now,” said Kaspar with a chuckle.

  “Yes,” agreed Tal with a pained smile. “But even had I restrained myself regarding the Prince, I think my future lies somewhere else. And now that it appears my prospects in Roldem have diminished . . .” He shrugged.

  “You thought you would ride my coattails to greatness,” finished Kaspar.

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “Not an unwise choice,” said Kaspar. “I have a use for clever men—assuming you resist the temptation to humiliate princes in public in the future. There’s a captaincy for you in Opardum.”

  “Captaincy?” Tal smiled. “As I said, I’ve tried the military life, Your Grace, and found it less than ideal for my talents.”

  “It’s a title. If you like, you may continue to call yourself ‘squire,’ for no one will salute you and no one will have you marching around a parade ground. I have captains in many capacities, and none of them wear a uniform.”

  “Ah,” said Tal, as if he now understood. “You seek an agent.”

  “Agent is a good word. Factor is another. Or representative, depending on the need. Whatever the title, the function will be the same: to serve me with unswerving loyalty and vigor. The rewards will be quite in keeping with the effort.”

  Tal finished his wine. “Should I pack?”

  “Soon,” said Kaspar. “I linger here another week, then it’s off to Rillanon and a visit with the King of the Isles, then back to Opardum. You are not officially in my service until we reach Opardum. The reasons for that will be made clear to you then.

  “Until then, however, you will be under my protec-

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  tion. I will send a quiet word to Prince Matthew that I would take it as a personal affront should any ill befall you, then reassure him that I’m getting you as far away from Roldem as possible.

  “Perhaps in three years’ time you might return to defend your championship. It will be awkward, but at least by then Matthew will have had a chance to reflect.” He paused, then added brightly, “Or maybe by then someone else will have killed the posturing fool.”

  Kaspar rose, signaling that the interview was over.

  “Return to your quarters and try to stay out of trouble, Squire.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” said Tal.

  The Duke left through one door, and Tal departed through the other, finding Amafi waiting outside. He gestured for his new valet to fall in, and they left the palace together, this time exiting through the main gate.

  When they were safely outside the palace, Amafi asked, “Magnificence, what transpired?”

  “We are now in the service of Duke Kaspar of Olasko, Amafi.”

  The former assassin grinned, for a moment looking positively lupine. Then he said, “So, now our rise to greatness begins!”

  “Yes,” said Tal, though inside he felt as it was a descent into darkness that lay before them.

  __

  The ship beat against the rolling combers as a stiff breeze hurried it toward the most magnificent city Tal had ever seen. No, he thought, more magnificent than he could have imagined.

  Rillanon stood outlined against the hills, a stunning _______________

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  creation of colored stone and graceful arches. The late-afternoon sun etched its form with brilliant highlights set against deep shadows. Tal had been told of its history, that the Mad King, Rodric IV, had ordered the city rebuilt, with every drab façade replaced by cut stone of brilliant hue. Kings Lyam, Patrick, and now Ryan had continued with the project, and now nearly every building in the capital of the Kingdom of the Isles was a study in splen-dor. A thing of marble and granite, Rillanon glimmered white and purple, yellow and amber, with hints of pink, green, red, and blue scattered across the scene. As they approached, details resolved, and both Tal and Amafi stood in mute astonishment in the bow of Duke Kaspar’s ship, The Dolphin.

  A voice from behind them said, “Is this your first visit, Squire?”

  Tal turned to see the Duke and bowed before he answered. “Yes, Your Grace.”

  Amafi stepped away discreetly, giving his master and the Duke the opportunity to speak in private.

  “I am second to no man in my pride in my homeland, Squire,” said the Duke. “Opardum is a magnificent city in its own way, but I’ll concede that upon first viewing, no city matches Rillanon in beauty.”

  “I must agree, Your Grace. I have read histories . . .”

  Tal forced himself to remember his place. “When I was a student, my father insisted I master the history of the Kingdom.” He turned, and waved his hand. “But this . . .

  it’s beyond description.”

  “Yes, isn’t it?” Duke Kaspar chuckled. “If one were to wage war upon the Kingdom of the Isles, it would be a tragedy to have to sack such a wonder. It would be far better to force them to surrender before having to storm those towers, don’t you agree?”

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  Tal nodded. “Though I would think not going to war with the Isles the wiser choice.”

  “There are other means of winning a struggle besides armed conflict,” said the Duke. He spoke as much to himself as to Tal. “There are those who will avow that war is the result of failed diplomacy, while others will tell you that war is but another tool of diplomacy; I’m not enough of a scholar to decide if there’s really any difference between those two positions.” He turned and smiled at Tal.

  “Now, get to your cabin and change into your finery. We shall be dining in the King’s palace tonight.” He glanced at the sails. “I judge us to be less than an hour out of the harbor, and we shall have clear sailing to the royal docks.”

  Tal went below and did as instructed, and by the time he was ready for presentation in court, he heard a knock upon his door. Amafi opened it to find a cabin boy standing before the portal.

  “Yes?”

  “Duke’s compliments, Squire. You’re to join him on deck.”

  “I’ll be along straightaway,” said Tal.

  Tal quickly adjusted his new tunic and grabbed his hat, an outfit tailored for him in Roldem prior to leaving. He had spent the week lying low as Kaspar had suggested, avoiding public places for the most part. It hardly mattered anyway, for the invitations from Roldem’s elite had stopped immediately after his humiliation of Prince Matthew. Tal assumed Kaspar had sent out word that Tal was now under his protection, for there had been no attempt at reprisal, at least none that Tal and Amafi could see.

  Tal hurried up on deck as the ship approached the breakwater outside the harbor. If Roldem had been breathtaking the first time Tal had seen it from a ship, Ril-

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  lanon was astonishing. The closer they got, the more stunning the vista became. For not only was the city constructed of polished marble and granite, it was trimmed in all manner of ways: there were flower trellises, hillside gardens, colorful pennants and banners, and windows of quartz and glass. The late-afternoon sun set the stones ablaze with reflected gold, amber, rose, and white highlights.

  “Amazing,” said Amafi.

  “Yes,” said the Duke. “I always try to arrive before sunset, just to see this.”

  A royal cutter flying the banner of the Kingdom of the Isles was on an outward tack, and dipped its pennant in salute to the Duke of Olasko. Sailors on both ships waved greetings, and Tal was rendered almost mute by the grandeur around him. Ships from every nation on the Sea of Kingdoms were at anchor or sailing in or out of the harbor. He saw Keshian traders, ships from the Eastern Kingdom, and cargo haulers from every point in the known world.

  Sails we
re reefed, and The Dolphin slowed as the captain allowed a smaller boat to come alongside. A rope ladder was dropped and up it scampered the Harbor Pilot, who quickly made his way to the quarterdeck. He took control of the ship: from that point on, it was his job to sail the ship into the royal docks.

  Tal tried to drink in every sight before him. He remembered his first view of Latagore, then Krondor, Salador, and Roldem. Each had offered new impressions and new sensations, but Rillanon eclipsed them all.

  The ship’s last sails were reefed, and the ship drifted comfortably into the designated slip, where dockmen waited with long poles to hold off the ship while fenders were dropped alongside the quay. Then the fore and aft _______________

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  lines were thrown ashore, and before Tal knew it, the ship was secured.

  Lady Natalia came up from her quarters, her servants behind her, and flashed a brilliant smile at Tal. “We’re here, I take it.”

  “Yes, m’lady,” said Tal with a grin. “We most assuredly are.”

  Natalia’s smile remained in place, but her eyes darted around, as if wary. Then she focused on Tal. “We must be sure to be on our best behavior, Squire.”

  Tal nodded. It was an unnecessary warning. He knew he was being evaluated every minute between Roldem and their eventual destination of Opardum. His humiliation of Matthew was so untypical of him that suspicion was directed at him even by the Duke’s sister. Their night of passion seemed entirely forgotten, and Tal thought better of mentioning anything to her that might be per-ceived as an overture. In this situation, he decided, it was better to let the lady take any lead.

  Duke Kaspar was the first to depart, followed by his sister, then the other members of his entourage. Tal followed, since his status as a member of Kaspar’s court had not been yet formalized. Then came Amafi and the other servants.

  Carriages awaited, each bearing the royal crest of the Kingdom of the Isles, a golden lion rampant on a field of crimson holding a sword aloft, a crown hovering over its head. Liveried coachmen waited. Kaspar and his sister entered the first, most ornate carriage, and the rest of the Duke’s retinue followed. The coach Tal entered with Amafi behind him was serviceable and clean, but far from luxurious.