Tal stood, and Kaspar said, “It is my pleasure to introduce you all to Squire Talwin Hawkins, late of the Kingdom of the Isles and Champion of the Masters’ Court in Roldem. Tonight he enters our service.”
There was a polite round of applause. Lady Rowena displayed just the right amount of interest, then returned her attention to the Duke. Tal noticed one significant member of the Duke’s table was not applauding. Special Captain Quint Havrevulen, most senior of Kaspar’s officers, sat silently, observing the young stranger. As Tal resumed his seat, he wondered if the Captain’s lack of enthusiasm stemmed from a general dislike of Islemen or because at the Masters’ Court Tournament he had killed one Lieutenant Campaneal, Havrevulen’s aide-de-camp.
As the meal ended, Kaspar stood up, and said, “Squire, please attend me.” He walked away from the table, leaving the Lady Rowena unattended.
Tal nodded to Amafi—who had stood behind his chair throughout the meal—to return to their quarters, then hurried to the Duke’s side. Kaspar put a large hand on Tal’s shoulder and said, “Now is as good a time as any to get the matter of your oath taken care of. Come with me: there’s someone I want you to meet.” Over Kaspar’s shoulder, Tal could see Natalia’s expression was drawn as if she were concerned.
To Tal’s surprise, no servants or guards accompanied them as Kaspar led Tal through a series of hallways. Then Tal saw they were at the flight of stairs that Rudolph had said were forbidden. Kaspar said, “This area of the citadel is not to be entered unless you are summoned by myself, Squire. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
They climbed the stairs and went down a hall to a large wooden door. Without knocking, Kaspar opened the door and motioned for Tal to enter.
The room was large but sparsely furnished, containing just one table and a chair. Tapestries covered the wall against the cold, but otherwise the room was without comfort. A fire burned in a large hearth, and three men were waiting.
Two were guards, who quickly came to stand on either side of Tal and grip his arms. “Tie him in the chair,” said Kaspar.
Tal realized the futility of resisting, and let himself be lashed to the chair as the third man came to examine him. He was slender, of middle height, with long dark hair that reached past his shoulders. His face was almost pinched, with a prominent nose that would have dominated his face had it not been for his eyes. The eyes were black, and something in them made Tal fearful. The man came to stand before Tal, and said, “Hello, young man. Duke Kaspar says you are a talented lad with great potential. I certainly hope so.” He looked past Tal at Kaspar for a moment, then back at Tal. “Because if you are not, you will not leave this room alive.”
He turned his back on Tal and went to the table. He picked something up and returned to stand before Tal. “Shall we begin?” he asked the Duke.
Tal sat motionless. Behind him Duke Kaspar said, “Begin.”
Suddenly there was a faint buzzing sound in Tal’s ears, just at the edge of being recognizable. It sounded like the distant murmuring of voices. He found his eyelids growing heavy and he felt his body become heavy, as if he were on the verge of sleep.
Then a voice said, “Your mind is mine, and you may not hide any falsehood.”
Tal felt an oddly familiar tingling along the base of his scalp, just above his neck, and recognized the use of magic. He had known such a sensation many times at Sorcerer’s Isle as he had been subjected to many different types of magic spells. He could only trust that whatever Pug, Miranda, and Magnus had done to him over the time he was there would see him through this ordeal.
Duke Kaspar came to stand within Tal’s field of vision. “Do you, Talwin Hawkins, swear an oath upon your life, to serve me and my line until such time as you are released by me? Do you serve freely, without reservation, emendation, or subterfuge? Do you offer your life if false?”
“I do,” said Tal, and his voice felt thick in his own throat. He thought of his father, near a fire late one night, and the words that he could still recall. “Never offer an oath lightly. For you pledge not only your life and sacred honor, but your people’s honor as well. To break an oath is to be without honor, to be without a spirit, and to be apart from the people.”
“I do,” he repeated.
After a moment, the strange sensations vanished and the odd-looking man said, “He offers his oath truly.”
“Good,” said the Duke. “Untie him.”
Tal sat rubbing his wrists for a moment as the Duke said, “I have many enemies, Tal, and my enemies have many agents. You wouldn’t be the first of those to seek my service.” He smiled. “I had no doubt you would be found to be a man of your word.” Turning, he said, “This is my most trusted advisor, Leso Varen.”
The man inclined his head politely, but his eyes were fast upon Tal. “You are an unusual young man, Squire,” he said.