Tal looked at him. “Really?”
“Not that I have firsthand experience, you understand, Squire. I’m merely a lowly lieutenant of cavalry, not even a member of the Household Guard. A few of us are allowed to dine here from time to time, but I expect my next turn will be a year or more coming around.” He pointed to the far end of the table, where Special Captain Havrevulen dined, and said, “Our esteemed Captain Quint is the only soldier in the duchy who would think of so lofty a prize. The rest of us may merely gaze on in adoration.” He sat back, appraising Tal. “You, Squire, have noble lineage, are Champion of the Masters’ Court, and—judging by the size of that bear—no mean hunter. Since our lord and master is not given to overblown praise, he is also in your debt. So you have a chance, slim as it might be, to court our lady.”
“The lady is the Duke’s most important treasure,” observed Tal. “She will be wed to whichever ruling prince most advantages Olasko, I’ll wager.”
With a laugh, the lieutenant said, “You’re no country boy, Hawkins, that’s for certain.”
The banquet continued for another half an hour, and Tal put the conversation with Lieutenant Adras behind him. He knew that if he continued his affair with Natalia, he was putting himself in harm’s way, but to spurn her advances might make him a powerful enemy who was close to the Duke.
He glanced at a lovely blond woman sitting to the left of the Duke who was engaged in conversation with another of the many courtiers present. The Lady Rowena had entered tonight on Kaspar’s arm, and it was Tal’s first opportunity to see her since he had come back to Opardum from the Southern Islands.
She had been absent when he first came to the city, ostensibly away visiting her family. Tal knew she had no family, as she had been raised on Sorcerer’s Isle, so he wondered what she had been up to. He knew that it would be impossible to find out. Both he and his former lover were deep in their roles, so neither would acknowledge the existence of Talon of the Silver Hawk or Alysandra.
Seeing her always made him consider the emotional punishment he had gone through at her hands. He felt only a hint of pity, for he knew she was a broken thing, devoid of true feelings for any person, content to take instruction from Miranda, mistress of Sorcerer’s Isle, and the only person who could effectively control the young woman.
As the banquet ended, a page appeared and said, “Squire, the Duke requests your presence in his private apartment.”
Tal followed the page and soon entered a luxurious room with a low round table and half a dozen chairs spread around it. Sideboards, candlestands of gold, mirrors, and tapestries decorated the place. On the table rested a crystal decanter and several crystal goblets.
Kaspar sat alone. He motioned for Tal to take another seat. A servant poured wine for them, then departed.
“I’ve decided to send you to Salmater, Talwin. You will take my message to His Highness, the Prince of Salmater.”
“Sir?”
“It will be short but very flowery, very diplomatic. The heart of it will be this: he will acknowledge me as his liege lord and submit, or else I will reduce his city to rubble around his ears.” With a grin, he asked, “How do you think he’ll react?”
Tal sipped his wine, to gain a moment in which to consider this. Then he said, “Not knowing the man, that might be hard to anticipate, but I can’t imagine he’ll be pleased.”
Kaspar laughed. “No, he most certainly won’t be. But he is a fool, and someone is using him.”
“Who, Your Grace?”
“Almost certainly Paul of Miskalon. It might be someone else, but I doubt it. Prince Janosh of Salmater is wed to Duke Paul’s sister, and she rules the Prince. She might meet with an untimely accident…”
“Your Grace?”
“Not yet, but that is a possibility.” Kaspar reached down behind his chair, drew out a map, and placed it on the table. “Here are the disputed lands, Tal. Olasko, Salmater, Miskalon, Roskalon, Maladon and Simrick, Far Lorin, and Aranor all have claims to part or all of those lands.” He sat back. “Some of us have better claims and others of us have bigger armies.”
Kaspar watched as Tal studied the map.
Then the Duke said, “Olasko has four frontiers to be concerned with. You’ve already uncovered a problem on one of them, among the islands that comprise our southern province.
“To the north we have the thugs up in Bardac’s Holdfast. As long as they stay thugs, I don’t worry. I keep enough troops in the City of the Guardian to make them think twice about raiding south, and they have their own problems to the north with County Conar—that merry band of murderers would make anyone nervous.”
Tal said nothing, but he remembered stories about the men from Conar; they were close enough to the land of the Orosini that there had been conflicts before.
“To the west,” continued Kaspar, “is my cousin in Aranor, about whom I have no concerns.