“I wasn’t thinking of killing him, just…creating enough of a fuss that the King would be unhappy with me remaining in his country.”
“You’d have to kill him,” said Pasko dryly. “As Champion of the Masters’ Court you could probably sleep with the Queen, and the King would pass it off as a boyish prank. Why do you need all this bother? Olasko offered you a position when you won the tourney.”
“Because I wish to appear the reluctant petitioner. I would have undergone close scrutiny had I accepted his offer immediately after the tourney two years ago. If I were to appear suddenly requesting that position today, I would undergo an even closer examination. But if I’m merely forced by circumstances to seek out his patronage, then my motives are obvious—at least I hope they are.
“While at Sorcerer’s Isle, I was…prepared, to withstand a great deal of examination.”
Pasko nodded. He understood what was being said. Tal had been conditioned by Pug and the other magicians to deal with any magic that might uncover his true allegiance.
“But the circumstances of my seeking service with Kaspar must also be credible. Being in his debt for my life seems an obvious motive.”
“Assuming he can keep you off the headsman’s block.” Pasko rubbed his throat. “I’ve always thought beheading a barbaric choice. Now the Kingdom hangs their felons. A short drop”—he snapped his fingers—“and the neck is broken, and it’s over. No mess, no fuss, no bother.
“In Great Kesh, I’ve been told, they have many different choices of execution, depending on the location and nature of the crime: decapitation, burning at the stake, being buried up to your neck next to an anthill, drowning, exposure, being pulled apart by camels, being buried alive, defenestration—”
“What?”
“That’s throwing someone off a very high place onto the rocks below. My personal favourite is castration, then being fed to the crocodiles in the Overn Deep after having watched them first consume your manhood.”
Tal stood up. “Have I ever mentioned that you have a seriously morbid streak? Rather than contemplate the means of my demise, I’ll spend my energies on staying alive.”
“Then, to a practical concern?”
Tal nodded.
“While I suspect Duke Kaspar would intervene on your behalf in such a circumstance—the humiliation of Prince Matthew, I mean, not the feeding to crocodiles thing…”
Tal smiled.
“…isn’t it going to be difficult for him to do so from across the seas?”
Tal’s smiled broadened. “Nakor had intelligence from the north just as I left Salador; Duke Kaspar arrives within the week for a state visit.”
Pasko shrugged. “In aid of what?”
“A little hand-holding for his distant cousin, I imagine, prior to doing something that might otherwise earn the King’s displeasure.”
“Such as?”
“We have no idea, but the north is constantly on a low roil, and Kaspar only has to raise the heat in one place or another for a kettle to boil over somewhere. That’s one of the many things I wish to find out.”
Pasko nodded. “Shall I draw you a bath?”
“I think I’ll take a walk to Remarga’s and indulge in a long massage and tub there. Bring suitable clothing for an evening in town.”
“Where will you be dining, master?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere public.”
“Dawson’s?” The former inn was now exclusively a dining establishment for the noble and the rich, and had spawned a dozen imitators. “Dining out” had become something of a pastime for those in the capital city.
“Perhaps that new establishment, the Metropol. It’s considered the place to be seen, I have been told.”
“It’s a private club, master.”
“Then get me an invitation while I bathe, Pasko.”
With a wry expression, Pasko said, “I’ll see what I can do.”
“I must be seen in public so word will spread I’m back in the city, but I need to be alone tonight when I finish supper and return to these quarters.”
“Why, master?”
“So I can find out who’s been following me since I left Salador, and what’s on his mind.”
“A spy?”
With a stretch and a yawn, Tal said, “Probably an assassin.”
Sighing, Pasko said, “So it begins.”
Nodding as he headed for the door, Tal said, “Yes. So it begins.”
Fog shrouded the city. Mist hung so thick it was impossible to see more than three feet ahead. The bright lamps at each corner of the merchants’ quarter were reduced to dim yellow spots in the distance, and even the occasional lantern beside a tavern door became just a faint pool of light across the street. There were places on long streets where no light was visible, and the senses were confounded, distances were meaningless, and the entirety of the universe was murk.