On the second night he had found a long tunnel unmarked by any sign of human passage for a very long time and followed it to a huge gallery with three passages leading eastward. One of them contained a barely noticeable draft of air, and he had followed it.
It had taken him three nights of exploration, but at last he had discovered the exit where he now stood. He put down the lantern and studied the crevasse that the maps in the Duke’s library clearly marked as the biggest barrier across the escarpment. High above he could see the brightening sky between the two opposing faces of the deep cut in the earth. And directly across from him Tal saw something totally unexpected, a pathway down from the opposite side of the crevasse. He moved to the edge of the entrance and looked down and beheld another stone pathway leading down. Tracing the route with his eyes in the early-morning light, he saw what he had never dreamed might exist: the means of traversing the chasm that had safely guarded the rear of the citadel for ages. The paths were not natural. Some ancient war chief or early Duke of Olasko had cut those narrow paths into the face of the cliffs. They were little wider than goat trails, but two or even three men abreast could walk down one side and up the other. They were not marked on any documents in Kaspar’s library. Tal judged that some past ruler had wanted to make sure there was a fast way out of Opardum that few, if any, besides himself knew about.
Tal made his way carefully down the path to the bottom of the cliff. It was not a difficult journey, although the descent was steep, for the path was wide and free of obstacles. At the bottom he found a pair of stone pillars. A matching pair mirrored them on the other side of a broken, rocky gully. Once in the past water must have flowed through this part of the gorge, Tal decided, but at some later stage the water source had been diverted or dried up. He negotiated his way across the broken gully to the other side and looked up. It would be an annoying climb to the path above, but he could manage it if he wished. He knew he wouldn’t bother: because when he came here next, it would be from the other side with a company of engineers who would have a bridge across the gully in a matter of hours.
Tal started back. It would be dark before he reached his room, and Amafi would keep servants away from his “sleeping” master, fighting off what was going to turn out to be the last of his fever. Tomorrow Tal would awaken sufficiently recovered to join Kaspar on his hunt, and no one would know that he had discovered the citadel’s glaring weakness. For a moment he considered telling Amafi, then decided against it; he could not confess what he didn’t know. Besides, no matter how loyal the former assassin had been since coming into Tal’s service, Tal wasn’t certain he would always remain so. Remembering the story Nakor had told him, of the scorpion who had killed the frog crossing the river, thereby dooming himself as well because it was his nature, Tal decided that Kaspar might not be the only scorpion Tal had to contend with.
Since killing Raven in the Land of the Orodon, Tal had dreamed of how he might defeat Kaspar. He had imagined finding him alone and killing him with a sword in hand, telling him who he really was at the last. He had imagined sneaking into his quarters in the dead of night, using the hallways and servants’ passages to win his way past his guards. Now it seemed he might have another choice. He felt positively buoyant as he made his way back through the caves.
Tal sat in mute amazement as the servants brought in the bear. It had been given to a taxidermist in Roldem, who had prepared the trophy for display, and had been delivered the day before Kaspar and his companions returned from their most recent hunting trip. The bear rose up on his hind legs, his muzzle set in a snarl. The assembled nobles and privileged commoners of Opardum gawked at the creature.
“My lords, ladies, and gentlemen,” declared the Duke, “my view of this animal the last time he rose up like that was lying at his feet, as he was preparing to devour me. I would not be here this evening if it hadn’t been for the quick and heroic action of the newest member of the court. My friends, I present to you Talwin Hawkins, my emissary at large.”
He motioned for Tal to stand. Tal did so to a round of polite applause. He sat down again as quickly as he could. Kaspar went on to add, “This bear will stand on display with the other prizes in the Trophy Hall, with a plaque detailing Squire Hawkins’s noble achievement. Now, please continue with the festivities.”
A low buzz of conversation returned to the room. The officer next to Tal, a Lieutenant Adras, said, “Good luck, Squire. None rise so fast as those with luck.”
Tal nodded. Natalia glanced over at him while pretending to be listening to a story one of the Duke’s senior advisors was telling. She threw him a quick smile, then returned her attention to the courtier.
The lieutenant said, “Slowly, Squire. Our lady is known to…let’s leave it that she rarely takes prisoners,” he finished with a chuckle.