“That leaves the east.”
“Which is the sea,” said Tal.
“Which is the sea,” agreed Kaspar. “The sea can be a great barrier, but it also can be a highway. If you study the histories of the late war in the Kingdom some thirty years ago, you’ll find that an army came from halfway around the world by ship, and they laid waste to nearly half the Western Realm before being destroyed.”
Tal said, “So you seek to secure borders?”
“Yes,” said Kaspar. “And more. Some of which I’ll tell you later, but for now consider this: while Kesh and the Isles have been raising up mighty nations, under one rule of law, under one common administration in each nation, the Eastern Kingdoms have been squabbling like poor relatives at a feast over kitchen scraps.
“Only Olasko’s unique relationship with Roldem keeps the Kingdom of the Isles at bay. Roldem’s navy is vast, for she is an island nation, and just the presence of that fleet makes our eastern frontier secure.” With a chuckle, he said, “As long as we stay on good terms with Roldem.
“No, it’s to the south I must look right now, and eventually in other directions, but before I have finished, I mean to bring all these squabbling, petty little rulers to heel; and then what is now a collection of independent little kingdoms, principalities, and duchies will be fused into one nation, with one ruler.”
Tal said nothing, but he realized now that what he had suspected before was true: that Kaspar craved power. He just hadn’t anticipated the particular vision that served Kaspar as the vehicle for his ambition.
“So, go and rest. Tomorrow you leave for Salmater. I will have all the necessary papers for your office drawn up, as well as my message for Prince Janosh.”
Tal rose and bowed, departing quickly. He hurried to his quarters, thinking that now he was becoming fully Kaspar’s creature.
Nine
Emissary
Tal stood silently.
Before him rose the throne of Prince Janosh of Salmater, a slender man with a distracted expression who blinked constantly and appeared to have difficulty sitting still. Next to him sat Princess Svetlana, who eyed Tal coolly as the Prince’s first minister read the missive from Duke Kaspar.
When at last the reading of the demand for submission was over, the Prince said, “Well, I never.” He looked at his wife, and said, “Madam, have you ever?”
Ignoring her husband, the Princess addressed Tal. “So, Kaspar is seeking war?”
Tal inclined his head. “No, Majesty. My duke is seeking resolution for a problem that has plagued this region for generations. I am instructed to make this as clear as I can.” He turned and motioned to Amafi, who today was dressed as finely as Tal. The manservant stepped forward and handed a pouch of black velvet to his master, who opened it and turned it upside down, allowing a dozen medallions to fall to the marble floor with a clatter. “These twelve medallions were taken from the corpses of a dozen ‘pirates’ who were on a mapping expedition of sovereign Olasko territory. Had these men been simple merchants, my lord Kaspar would have been more than obliging in seeing they had up-to-date charts of the acknowledged trading routes. We can only assume they were up to mischief.”
“Medallions?” said the Prince. “What have medallions to do with maps?”
The First Minister, a whip-thin man named Odeski, looked at Tal with a narrowed gaze, his blue eyes trying to ascertain the quality of the man before him. Tal looked from him to the Princess, ignoring the Prince for a pointed moment, then speaking to the monarch. “Majesty, those medallions belong to your Black Lions.”
“My Black Lions?” The Prince positively fluttered with confusion. “What have my guards to do with this?”
Odeski said, “Majesty, I think it best if we adjourn from the court and retire to less public quarters, where we may discuss this matter at leisure.”
“Yes, that sounds capital,” said the Prince, rising.
The Princess followed her husband, and as she passed, she studied Tal minutely. When they had departed, Odeski said, “We shall be in chambers for the afternoon. I suggest you return to your allotted quarters and stay in them. Diplomatic status protects you only in the palace. Our more common thugs do not care if Duke Kaspar gets upset over your demise.”
“Your point is made,” said Tal.
A court page escorted Tal and Amafi back to the quarters they had been given upon arrival the day before. Tal glanced around, as if expecting to be ambushed at any minute, but they reached the apartment without incident.
Tal motioned to Amafi to check to ensure they were alone, and when the assassin-turned-manservant did so, he nodded. At the table, Tal took out a writing pack. He unfolded it, and said aloud, “I wonder what the Prince’s answer to the Duke might be.”
“Who can say, Magnificence?” Amafi replied.