“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 were 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 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 perceived 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.
Tal half hung out the window as the carriage wended its way through the streets of the city, taking him past shops and houses, through large squares with majestic fountains, and up the hill toward the palace. The city rested upon a series of hills, so that at times they saw the ground fall away as they crossed soaring bridges. Several times Tal looked down to see small rivers running toward the sea. “This city is wonderful,” he said to Amafi in the King’s Tongue.
“Assuredly, Magnificence,” said his valet. “It is said that when the first King of the Isles built his fortress, he picked the highest peak here, and a series of wooden bridges protected his band of men—who were little more than pirates, it is said. Over the years the city has grown up from the docks and down from the palace, so that now you have this maze of streets and bridges.”
As they crossed the second to last bridge on their way to the palace, Tal looked down and saw houses built into the very hillsides, it seemed, with clever cantilevered supports below and narrow flights of stairs leading up to the streets above them. Below them, the River Rillanon raced toward the sea over a series of small cataracts, hemmed in on both sides by mighty granite walls.
As they neared the palace, Tal said, “I wonder if those who live here get used to this beauty.”
“Undoubtedly, Magnificence. It is the nature of man to become oblivious to that which is around him daily,” Amafi commented. “It is something a good assassin understands. The trick to not being discovered until it is too late is to become part of the expected surroundings. Stealth is more the art of blending in with the background than sneaking through dark shadows.”
“You’re probably right,” said Tal.
“Of course I’m right, Magnificence, for were I not, I would by now be long dead.”
They were speaking the King’s Tongue, which seemed appropriate to their setting, but Tal realized he could be overheard. Switching to the Quegan tongue, he said, “There are some things you must do.”