He struck his opponent easily, and the crowd in the galley applauded. He saluted his opponent, then the Master of the Floor.
The House of Blades was a modest establishment compared to the Masters’ Court in Roldem. Instead of dominating an entire city block, it was a single building of some size, but it lacked the complex of rooms, had no bath, and offered few of the amenities seen in Roldem. It was not subsidized by the King of the Isles or the Duke of Salador, but rather had come about as a private club for noblemen seeking to hone their skills. While frontier nobles and garrison soldiers had ample opportunity to train under the watchful eye of a swordmaster, those nobles of the court in cities such as Salador were often left to their own devices when it came to the art of the blade. Membership was not inexpensive, but Tal, as Champion of the Masters’ Court, had been invited as a guest and granted full privileges as long as he resided in Salador. It was a canny move, Tal conceded to Amafi when he got the invitation, for his attendance sparked a renewed interest in membership among the younger nobles and sons of wealthy commoners.
And as had been the case in Roldem, many daughters of wealthy families and young girls of noble birth now found watching dueling practice to be a fascinating pastime. His first visit to Salador, while mastering the role of squire, Tal had been merely a young noble of promise. Now he was famous, or infamous if the story of his affront to Prince Matthew was known, and the dashing young squire from the west was considered among the more eligible of the young courtiers in the city.
He had made his one obligatory journey to the Duke’s castle, a relic of ancient days, large and drafty, despite many attempts to refurbish and modernize the place. The present Duke, Duncan, a distant cousin to the King, was a bright-eyed man in his late sixties, who welcomed the young squire to the city and offered him any help he might need, all the while communicating that it would be in poor taste for Tal to ask for anything.
The Duke’s son, Laurie, stood next to his father, quietly amused by the entire affair. Tal had caught a glimpse of the young man on a couple of occasions. Unlike some noble sons, he didn’t appear to waste his time and energy on too much drinking, women, or gambling. On one occasion, Laurie had been escorting a young woman of unusual beauty—later, Tal had discovered she was the daughter of a nobleman in service to the Duke of Krondor—and the other time, he had been quietly gambling for modest stakes at one of the better establishments in the city, again with the same young woman at his side. The young lady was rumored to become the next Duchess of Salador. Tal had never seen Laurie touch a drink besides water. City gossip labeled the next Duke of Salador a modest young man of quick wit, ample skills, and a steady nature. The only remarkable quality he possessed was an unusual gift for music, as he played several instruments and sang with a strong, pleasant voice, talents inherited from his great-grandfather, according to city lore.
Tal wished that circumstances permitted him a better chance for acquainting himself with the young man, but it seemed unlikely. Laurie appeared the sort who would steer clear of notorious acquaintanceships.
Tal crossed to where Amafi waited with a towel and clean tunic, and said, “Well done, Magnificence.”
“Thank you, Amafi.”
It had been almost a month since the attack outside Ruthia’s Palace, and so far there had been no repeat of the attempt. Amafi had some contacts in the city and had tried to discover the name of the assailant, which might lead to discovering who paid him. So far he had discovered nothing.
Tal’s life since then had been a constant cycle of working out at the House of Blades, dining at the better establishments in the city—though he ate at home often, given Lucien’s talent—accepting invitations to various social gatherings and festivities, gambling, and spending time with a variety of charming ladies of rank.