Tal would destroy Kaspar without hesitation, revenging the wrong done his people, but he now wondered how Kaspar had come to be this dangerous, ambitious man. Not for the first time, Tal wondered where Kaspar’s crimes ended and Leso Varen’s influences began.
Tal decided it was time to send a message to the Conclave. He found his writing instruments, in a leather carrying pouch, set out by Amafi on the table in his bedroom. He unrolled a piece of silken paper, very expensive, but durable and nearly impervious to water once the indelible ink had dried. He recorded on it what he had seen at the citadel, with as much detail as possible. He recounted every recognizable item on Varen’s table, drew what he could remember of symbols he had seen, and listed the titles he recalled of the volumes on the bookshelves. He spent a short paragraph speculating on what influence Varen had over Kaspar. He kept the names of Varen and Kaspar out of the message, referring to them only as “the magician” and “the nobleman,” and at the end, he signed it simply “Talon.”
He folded the paper, sealed it with wax, but did not impress it with his ring. Then he addressed it to The Squire of Forest Deep. When Amafi returned, he informed Tal of a nearby bathhouse of sufficient quality to warrant Tal’s patronage. Tal gave him the message, asking if he knew his way to the Vine and Cask. Amafi knew of the place, and Tal instructed him to go there and deliver the message to the owner without comment or waiting for a response, then to meet him at the bathhouse with a full change of clothing.
Amafi ran off, and Tal went downstairs to interview Magary and the cook, who had returned from the market. Tal said, “You must be Lucien.”
The cook was a young man, just a few years older than the girl by the look of him, and was trying to look confident. “Yes, sir.”
“Well, you’re going to have an easy time of things, I think. I don’t dine at home much, and I rarely entertain. So, mostly you’ll be cooking in the mornings, and perhaps making up a meal at midday.”
“Very good, Squire.”
Tal detected an accent. “Where are you from?”
“Bas-Tyra originally, sir. A small town called Genoui, not too far from the city.”
“Ah,” said Tal with delight. “The food of Bas-Tyra is famous. What are your specialties?”
Lucien launched into a list of dishes he favored, and Tal interrupted to ask him how he prepared one in particular. As Lucien started to describe the preparation, Tal asked questions, often offering alternative spices or herbs, and quickly the cook seemed to light up. “You know your food, sir.”
“I worked in a kitchen once,” said Tal noncommittally. “I am not what you would call a rich squire,” he said when Lucien and Magary looked at him in surprise. Tal laughed. “Poor squires have to eat, too.”
He saw the way glances passed between them, so then he asked, “Are you married?”
Magary was a pale girl with light brown hair, but her color changed to a deep red as she blushed. “No, sir…not yet, but we would like to someday.”
“I’ll tell you what,” said Tal. “I was planning on dining out tonight, and for social reasons I must, but tomorrow why don’t you prepare some of your specialties? I don’t care if you make too much for me to eat—you two and Amafi can finish off what I don’t try, but I would like to see if you cook as well as you talk about cooking.”
“You won’t be disappointed, sir.”
Tal said, “Well, I’m off for a bath and massage. I’ll expect to eat an hour after first light…wait, make that two hours. It may be a late night. By the way, where are your sleeping quarters?”
“In the basement, sir. We have a tiny room we share, and there’s a bed for your manservant there, as well.”
“That won’t be necessary. He’s also my bodyguard and will sleep in the small room upstairs next to mine. You can keep your privacy.”
Magary looked relieved, and Lucian positively beamed. “Yes, Squire!”
Tal left the house and started his walk to the bathhouse. Looking around the city, he realized that he had missed Salador. What is becoming of me? he wondered. I am not sentimental by nature, yet now I feel as I’ve come back to a place that’s dear to me.
Then he realized the place wasn’t dear to him, it was the memory of the time he had spent here that was dear. He and Caleb had studied together, got drunk together, and even whored together. He had learned about wine, food, and the arts in Salador. He had learned to play music and to dance, to paint, and to be charming and seduce women of quality. It had been the only time he had felt free of the dark urgency that was revenge, and he had not thought about his future, living only in the moment.
Now he found he missed Caleb, and he longed to save Eye of the Blue-Winged Teal. And most surprising of all, he found he missed Natalia.
The meal was stupendous. He looked up at Lucien, and said, “I’ve had better meals.” The cook’s face started to sag a little, but then Tal said, “But not many. You do honor to your craft.”