That evening, the Duke lounged in one of the chairs with his feet propped up on cushions, nursing his injured ribs. Tal was amazed at how much strength the man possessed. In his prime, Kaspar was a powerful man with the shoulders of a wrestler or dockworker, and arms knotted thick with muscle. When the servants had removed his shirt, revealing the huge blackening area from the deep bruise dealt him by the bear, Tal saw there was very little fat on the man. In open-handed combat, he would be extremely dangerous.
He was also tough; every breath had to be a trial, for Tal suspected the Duke had cracked ribs, yet he lay back comfortably, chuckling at one or another remark during the evening meal, one arm draped over the back of the chair for support, the other holding a cup of wine.
He ate little, but he consumed a prodigious amount of wine. Tal’s opinion was that the wine would help the Duke sleep soundly. At the end of the evening, he directed a question at Tal: “So, Squire, have you given any thought to what reward I can offer to set right my debt to you?”
Tal lowered his head a little as if embarrassed, and said, “Truth to tell, Your Grace, I acted without a lot of thought. I was attempting to save my own life as much as yours.” He tried to look modest.
“Come now. That may be, but the effect is the same. You saved my life. What can I do to repay this?”
Tal smiled. “I am currently in need of little, sir. But I assume at some point in the future things may not be as sanguine for me as they are today. Should I fall upon hard times, then perhaps I might redeem your favor?”
“Fair enough. Though I suspect a man of your resources should have little trouble making his way through life without too much difficulty.” He stood up slowly. “Each of you has a tent prepared and a servant to provide for your comfort. Now, I must bid you good night and come morning I’ll see how I feel. I would hate to shorten our hunt, but I fear I am in no manner or form able to confront a dragon, even a small one.” The others laughed. “So, I suspect we shall be back at the palace this time tomorrow. Sleep well.”
He departed, and, after a moment, Tal excused himself, leaving the two barons alone to contest for the Lady Natalia’s attentions. He found the “tent” put aside for him was another small pavilion, large enough for Tal to stand in and disrobe with the help of a servant. The servingman took Tal’s clothing and said, “These will be cleaned and ready for you in the morning, Squire.”
Tal sat in the middle of a pile of cushions, upon which a pair of thick quilts had been placed. On top of that lay a satin comforter, far more than he needed.
Breathing deep the mountain air, he ignored the hints of conversation that carried from the main pavilion as Eugivney and Mikhael tried to amuse Natalia and turned his mind to the odd events of the day. The bear had come so quickly he had reacted like a hunter, without thought, grabbing the best weapon at hand and charging straight at the beast. He could have just as easily taken a bow and peppered the animal with useless arrows until it had finished mauling Kaspar to death. Then he would have only one man—Captain Quint Havrevulen—to kill, and his people would have been avenged.
Tal had endured enough mental exercises with the magicians at Sorcerer’s Isle to know the futility of agonizing over why things had transpired as they had. What could have happened…did, as Nakor used to say. Obviously, there was to be no simple solution to the problem that lay before Tal. But one thing now felt clear; watching Kaspar die would have afforded him no joy. He found he didn’t hate the man. He was wary of him, as he would be of any wild and dangerous creature. But he somehow couldn’t reconcile the charming host with whom he enjoyed a goblet of wine with the calculating murderer who ordered the death of an entire nation. Something here didn’t jibe, and Tal wondered what it could be.
Another hand was in the mix, he suspected. The magician Leso Varen was said to have great influence over Kaspar, and Tal wondered if he might not have been the architect of the Orosini’s destruction.
When Tal emerged from his reverie, he realized the camp had grown quiet. The Lady Natalia must have bid her suitors good night. He also realized he was still very much awake and that sleep would come hard for him if he didn’t relax. He was sitting nude upon the comforter, so he crossed his legs and put his palms down on his knees. He closed his eyes and began a meditation to calm the mind.