“That will be no difficulty, Your Grace. I have resided there before and can easily revive old friendships and establish myself again.”
“Good. Because Duke Varian Rodoski will be attending a festival hosted by the Duke of Salador. Do you know him?”
Tal said, “I have seen him and was briefly introduced to him once, but I do not claim to know him.”
“Do you know his importance to the throne of Roldem?”
“He is the King’s cousin, and in line for the crown after…Prince Matthew?”
“And Prince Michael, Constantine, and the Princesses and the Queen. In short, he stands sixth in line of succession. So, he is among Roldem’s most important dukes, if not among the more powerful.”
“So, Your Grace. I am in Salador and so is Duke Rodoski. What is your pleasure?”
“My pleasure, young Hawkins, is to see you leave Salador after the festival, while Prince Rodoski doesn’t.”
“You wish him not to return to Roldem?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“And how long do you wish the Duke to remain in Salador, Your Grace?”
“For the rest of his life, my friend,” said Kaspar. “As short as it may be.”
Tal said nothing for a moment, then said, “I will see what I can do, Your Grace.”
“I know you will not displease me, Baron Talwin,” said the Duke with a cruel, thin smile.
Tal sat back and watched the distant harbor. The cold air caused his breath to steam as he exhaled, but for the first time since sitting down he felt the chill.
Tal sat at the table three seats away from Lady Natalia. With his elevation to the rank of court baron came his ascension to the Duke’s head table at supper. To his immediate left sat another young baron, Evegeny Koldas, and between him and Natalia sat Captain Quint. Everyone had congratulated Tal on his new rank, though Tal could see Quint was only being polite. There was a distance between the two men that had existed from the moment they had met, and Tal did not know if it was caused by some sort of personal aversion, a rivalry for Natalia’s attention, or a sense of Tal’s ultimate hostility, however well masked it might be.
If fate permitted, Tal would see Quint and Kaspar dead, then…
Tal had no idea what he would do after that, if he survived. He realized he was dwelling on that overly long when Evegeny Koldas said, “Baron?”
“Sorry,” said Tal. “I’m just a little overcome by His Grace’s generosity, and my mind wandered. You were saying?”
“I was saying that should you have the time, I would enjoy taking you up the river, to the wilderness beyond the Broken Lands. Your reputation as a hunter makes me desire to see what I can learn from you.”
Tal judged Koldas a sincere sort, not given to empty flattery, so he smiled at the compliment. “If time permits, I think I would enjoy that.”
The supper went on in typical fashion; Tal had grown used to the tempo of the court in the months he had been in residence. The Duke was an unusual ruler insofar as he didn’t require his courtiers to be in constant attendance. A fair amount of Kaspar’s time was spent in the company of Leso Varen, who almost never left his quarters, but on those rare occasions he did, it was always in the Duke’s company.
Tal watched closely on those occasions, and attempted to learn as much about the man as he could on behalf of the Conclave. He decided that his best choice at first was to be entirely passive in the matter. He never brought up Leso’s name or asked about him. He merely listened if anyone else spoke of it.
After months in Opardum, Tal now began to think of Leso Varen as The Man Who Wasn’t There. His name never came up in any context, save one: when the Duke was not around, occasionally someone would mention, “He’s up in Varen’s suites.”
Tal was not in any hurry, but he was curious. He decided the day would come when he asked questions, but that day wasn’t here yet.
Amafi had also been instructed to do likewise with the other servants in the citadel. To listen, but not to question. All he could discover was that twice a day a meal was left outside Varen’s apartment door, and every week a pile of clothing to be laundered was left outside. No servant was permitted inside except on rare occasions, always at his request, and always involving a particularly repugnant task. One servant had been overheard to complain that if Leso Varen wanted another corpse dragged out of his quarters in the dead of night, he could bloody well do it himself, and another once remarked that whatever the black stains were on the walls of one of the rooms up there, they were nearly impossible to scrub off.
Tal instructed Amafi in his role of manservant and found him to be Pasko’s rival in the common matters of the day. Tal’s clothing was always clean, laid out impeccably, and his messages were delivered in a timely fashion. The man could blend into the background, despite his somewhat colorful choice of clothing upon occasion, and he remembered everything he saw and heard.