“Like yourself, he is a man of many guises. While in Salador, he was calling himself Coshenski, a trader from Olasko Gateway. Very influential friends got him an invitation to the Duke’s gala on Midwinter’s Day.”
Tal said, “You obviously have good agents in Olasko if you knew he was coming.”
“Yes,” agreed the Duke. “But you were a gift.”
“What do you mean?” asked Tal.
Duke Varian said, “We were supposed to find and kill you, Talwin. You were given up to us so that I would be caught off guard when your compatriot Prohaska killed me at the gala.”
“I was given up? By whom?”
Rodoski laughed. “You still don’t see? You were given up by Kaspar. He uses people just like you use towels after a bath. Kaspar let our agents know you were coming to kill me. Kaspar wants you out of the way. The Lady Natalia is a little too fond of you, and you’ve already made enemies in his court by your rapid rise. Kaspar may even see you as a threat, for without heirs, if something happens to him and you wed his sister, who else is there to rule in Opardum? You were the goat. Do you see?”
It all made sense to Tal. He sat back. “If you know all this, why not move directly against Kaspar?”
Varian said, “I need no proof to dump you in the harbor. And I need no proof to have someone slit Kaspar’s throat in the dead of night. But we can’t get anyone that close, for reasons you know all too well.”
“Leso Varen.”
“Yes. That evil wizard is too dangerous, so we’re content to let Kaspar play his games, as long as they don’t become too deadly. And we block him where we can. But one day he’ll go too far—and this attempt on me is as close to the limit as King Carol is willing to permit. When that day comes, we will sail our fleet to Opardum and unload soldiers from Kesh and let them destroy Kaspar.”
Tal sat back. “So why let me live?”
“Because I need to send a message to Kaspar he can’t ignore or pretend to misunderstand. I will have the body of Prohaska delivered to him and yourself bound up in chains, and the conclusion he comes to should be clear.” The Duke stood up. “And I’ll leave you to Kaspar’s tender mercies. The day may come when you wish I had killed you. Oh, if you do survive, understand that you will be killed on sight if you set foot on Roldem again.” To the guards, he said, “Take him.”
Tal was grabbed by two soldiers who quickly disarmed him and bound his arms behind him. One stepped behind him and suddenly pain exploded behind his eyes, and he slipped into unconsciousness.
Tal awoke in the dark and quickly realized he was chained inside the hold of a ship. The rocking motion told him they were already out of the harbor and at sea. Amafi groaned next to him, and Tal said, “Are you awake?”
After a moment came a choked groan, then Amafi said, “I am here, Magnificence.”
“We have been betrayed,” said Tal.
“So it seems.”
Tal tried to make himself as comfortable as he could, for he knew it would be a long, cold, wet journey. After some hours a sailor came down the companionway, bearing two bowls of food, a mix of boiled grain, dried fruit, and a piece of salted pork, mostly fat. “Eat,” he said, handing each man a bowl. “It’s all you get until tomorrow.”
Tal took the food and began to eat. It tasted salty and bland, but it filled him and he knew he would need as much strength as he could muster.
The voyage passed slowly, a seemingly endless succession of days spent in rocking darkness, interrupted only by a daily visit by a sailor who brought the same meal. On the forty-first or -second day, Tal noticed they no longer got the salt pork.
Some ten days later, the ship shuddered, and Tal realized they were making the final reach for Opardum. Before another day was out, they’d be hauled up before Kaspar.
A thought ran through Tal’s mind over and over again. He had been betrayed. The king of foxes had shown he was really a scorpion, and being true to his nature, he had stung.
Tal was freed of his obligation. He could now kill Kaspar without betraying his oath.
If he survived.
They had been taken straightaway to the castle. Tal had hoped perhaps he might be unchained and allowed to clean up before being dragged before Kaspar, but that hope proved to be in vain.
He was brought before Kaspar, who sat alone in his great hall, with only soldiers around him: no Lady Natalia, no courtiers. “So, Baron Talwin,” said Kaspar without preamble, “you’ve failed.”
Tal decided there was no benefit to feigning ignorance of events. “As I was apparently destined to, Your Grace.”
Kaspar laughed. “Well, you obviously didn’t get yourself killed, so I assume Duke Rodoski had other plans, such as rubbing my nose in my failure.”