King of Foxes

“If we survive?”

 

 

“Your plan sounds brilliant on the surface, but there are forces involved far beyond you and Kaspar, or even the Conclave and Leso Varen. The Conclave will do its part in shielding you from Varen’s powers. If we are correct in our surmise as to what he is trying to accomplish, most of his energies will be directed elsewhere, and if that is the case, he will be vulnerable. Even so, he will be the most dangerous player in this game, for while I am his equal in power, he has no scruples and will think nothing of destroying everything around him rather than face defeat.”

 

Tal said, “You’re filling me with optimism.”

 

Pug laughed. “It’s all a risk. But then, all life is a risk.”

 

“This is true,” said Tal, sipping his wine. “So, once we convince King Ryan, what next?”

 

Pug smiled. “The hard part. Convincing King Carol and the Keshian Ambassador.”

 

Tal shook his head. “You’d better speak fast then, Pug, for I’ve the death mark on me should I set foot on Roldemish soil again.”

 

Pug said, “I’ll speak very fast.”

 

Tal sat back, thinking. He knew the plan was bold, reckless, even mad, but it was their only hope for a decisive and sudden victory over Kaspar.

 

However, the prospect of finally destroying Olasko didn’t fill him with keen anticipation. Instead, he felt only a dull hollowness. He sipped his wine.

 

 

 

A delegation of Roldem’s officials, as well as a full honor guard, waited at the dockside as the King of the Isles’ ship was made fast at the quay. As the gangplank was run out, the officials stepped forward, ready to receive the unannounced royal visitor, for at the top of the mainmast of the ship, the pinion of the royal house of the Isles flew, telling the world that a member of the royal family was aboard.

 

Instead of a richly dressed noble, however, a short man in a dark robe walked down the gangplank, followed by a figure all too familiar to many of those in attendance, carrying a single canvas travel bag.

 

The Chancellor of the King’s House stepped forward. “What is the meaning of this?” He pointed at Tal and said, “Place that man under arrest.”

 

Pug held up his hand. “That man is under the protection of the King of the Isles, and is a member of this delegation.”

 

“And who are you, sir?”

 

Pug said, “I am called Pug, known as the Black Sorcerer by some, and am representing King Ryan.”

 

“But the royal banner flies upon the mast!”

 

 

 

Pug said, “I’m embarrassed to admit I imposed upon the King to permit this, though I am a member of the royal family by adoption, albeit a distant one. My name is recorded in the archives of the house of conDoin; I was adopted by Duke Borric, great-grandfather to King Ryan.”

 

The Chancellor seemed totally confused by all this. “Your credentials, sir?”

 

Pug held out an ornate bundle of papers, all drawn up hastily, but with attention to detail, by the scribes in King Ryan’s service. They were affixed with all the appropriate seals, and they named Duke Pug of Stardock and Squire Talwin Hawkins as ambassadors extraordinaire to the Court of King Carol and to the Court of the Emperor of Great Kesh and outlined that the two emissaries had a great degree of latitude in binding the Isles to any number of agreements.

 

“All this seems in order…Your Grace.” With a dark look at Tal, the Chancellor said, “Please come with me, gentlemen.”

 

As they approached a carriage, Tal threw his bag up to a coachman and followed Pug inside. The Chancellor got in after them, saying, “Your luggage will be brought up to the palace.”

 

Tal said, “I just handed up our luggage, sir.”

 

“You’re not staying long then, sir?”

 

Tal grinned. “If we are here more than two days, I will be surprised.”

 

The Chancellor looked at Pug and said, “Pardon my frankness, Your Grace”—then he looked at Tal—“but if the Squire here leaves this island alive, I will be surprised.”

 

Tal shrugged. “We’ll let the King decide that.”

 

They rode in silence the rest of the way to the palace.

 

 

 

 

 

Duke Rodoski could barely contain his anger. The King had listened to everything Pug had said, then like King Ryan, King Carol had insisted on a full presentation before his privy council and the Ambassador of the Empire of Great Kesh. The Duke had almost drawn his sword on entering the hall and seeing Tal sitting there.

 

“You will behave yourself, sir!” commanded the King. “These men are here under the banner of the Isles, and will be treated with diplomatic courtesy.”

 

The Duke had shot back, “Whatever they have to say will be lies, cousin!”

 

“Sit down, sir!” the King roared.

 

Duke Rodoski did as he was told, but his suspicion was openly displayed.

 

Pug waited as the King called his councilors to order.

 

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