King of Foxes

Tal bowed and hurried out. The morning staff was busy in the citadel, hurrying about their business, less than an hour before the Duke’s retinue would be up and asking for their morning meals.

 

He slipped into his own quarters and found Amafi already awake, with a change of clothing waiting should Tal require it. Tal motioned toward the tub. It was steaming, so Tal knew it had just been refilled. He smelled of Natalia and her perfume, and knew that would bring raised eyebrows should he get too close to the other members of the court today.

 

As he slipped into the water, he said to Amafi, “Should I ever forget, please feel free to remind me that Natalia is every bit as dangerous in her own way as her brother.”

 

Amafi motioned for Tal to lean forward so he could scrub his master’s back. “No, Magnificence, she is more dangerous.”

 

Tal couldn’t think of any reason to argue.

 

 

 

Tal looked up as Amafi came into the room. He was covered in what appeared to be blood. “Gods, what happened?”

 

“Something extraordinary, Magnificence. Put on simple clothing, quickly.”

 

It was almost midnight, and Tal had just returned from a late supper with Kaspar and some other members of the court. The meal had turned into an after-dinner bout of drinking and storytelling with no one but Natalia leaving the table for hours. She had excused herself, claiming fatigue, and with one quick glance had communicated her frustration to Tal. With an equally quick shrug and tilt of his head, he had responded that there was nothing that could be done, and he would have to visit her some other time.

 

 

 

Tal changed into a tunic and leggings he wore for exercising in the marshaling yard.

 

“The boots will not do,” said Amafi.

 

“I have nothing plainer.”

 

“Then come barefoot.”

 

As Tal stood, Amafi came over with a handful of ashes from the fireplace. These he rubbed across Tal’s face and into his hair. “Magnificence, try to look like a lowly peasant, and perhaps we will both live through this night.” Then he rubbed some blood off his tunic and onto Tal’s tunic and face.

 

Tal followed and the former assassin led him straight to the wing of the citadel used by Leso Varen. As he neared the wizard’s quarters, what he saw would have caused him to falter, had he not had a strong stomach.

 

Servants, all of them ashen-faced and many trying not to be sick, were carrying bodies out of the wizard’s apartment. Mixed among the servants were faces Tal did not recognize, perhaps workers from the city. Someone shouted, “You two!” pointing at them. “Fetch that tub in here and be quick about it.”

 

Tal and Amafi grabbed up a large wooden tub filled with water mixed with something caustic. Even breathing the fumes made Tal’s eyes water. Turning his head to one side, he helped his manservant haul the tub into the wizard’s apartment.

 

Leso Varen stood off to one side, studying a pile of parchments on a table before him. He would glance up every so often to watch the work, but his attention was focused on the writings.

 

The room they first entered was the very room in which Tal had been sworn to oath, and it was flanked by large doorways on either side. The doors on the left were open, and Tal and Amafi were directed to lug their burden into the adjoining room.

 

 

 

Tal set the tub down. For a moment he couldn’t believe his eyes. He did not have the words to describe what he saw before him. The room was stone, without a tapestry or any other item of comfort to be seen. Shelves lined one wall, filled with books and scrolls. The wall opposite the door was adorned with a series of shackles hanging from chains, and from the abundance of blood splattered there and on the floor below them, it must be whence the bodies had come, Tal decided. The third wall revealed a solitary window. In front of that sat a small desk upon which a solitary inkwell and quill rested. To the immediate right of the door stood a large table covered with vials, jars, and boxes. The floor had a large drain in the middle, and blood was trickling toward it.

 

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