“I’m no military expert, but it seems to me if he sends a force into the Kingdom of the Isles, they will respond in strength. If Kaspar sends in small companies, each can occupy a much larger force if they scatter across the plains. From the foothills at the border to the Blackwood north of Dolth, you’ve got almost a thousand miles of grasslands. King Ryan of the Isles would be forced to tie up a huge number of men hunting down a relatively small army.
“So, the question is, if Kaspar wants that army up in the grasslands, where does he plan on striking?”
Magnus said, “I will convey your theory to Father.” He put a broad-brimmed felt hat on his head and removed a device from within his dark grey robe, an orb that glowed with copper highlights in the candlelight. He depressed the surface with his thumb, and suddenly he wasn’t there, the only sign of his departure being a small inrush of air.
Pasko said, “But why?”
“Why?” echoed Tal. “Why what?”
“Why all the plotting? Kaspar is as powerful in his own way as the King of Roldem. He effectively rules Aranor; the Prince does his bidding. He either controls or intimidates every nation surrounding Olasko, and he has the King of Roldem’s ear. Why does he want this war with the Isles?”
Tal sat back. “I thought it obvious. By destabilizing the region, opportunity arises for Kaspar to gain what he wants most of all.” Tal laced his fingers together and stared at the candle over balled fists. He tapped his chin lightly with his hands as he muttered, “Men of power seek only one thing: more power.”
Two
Reception
Tal smiled.
This was his first time in the palace since his victory in the Masters’ Court two years earlier. The King had sent an invitation for Talwin Hawkins to attend the welcoming gala to celebrate the arrival of the Duke of Olasko.
Tal had waited patiently in line for his turn to be presented, behind all the nobility of Roldem, most of those from other nations, and just ahead of the wealthiest commoners. A squire from the Kingdom of the Isles stood barely above a ribbon-maker with a great deal of gold in the eyes of the Roldemish court.
Even so, Tal stood resplendent in a pair of new wide-legged trousers—the current fashion—with his boots covered to the buckles, and a broad black leather belt, but he chose to wear a currently out-of-fashion tunic—a yellow doublet sewn with seed pearls. While other nobles were wearing the off-the-shoulder military singlet that was all the rage, Talon had chosen to wear the jacket that had been given to him as a gift by the King two years ago.
When last he had met the King, Tal had been the center of attention, the winner of the Tournament of Master’s, the recipient of the golden sword, emblematic of his being the world’s greatest swordsman.
Now Kaspar of Olasko was the focus of the gala, and Tal but a minor participant. When he at last heard his name called, Tal moved forward briskly and approached the throne. He took in the tableau before him as he reached the point where he was expected to bow before the Crown. King Carol sat on his throne, his wife Queen Gertrude to his right. On his left hand sat Crown Prince Constantine, heir to the throne. Tal remembered the Prince as a quiet boy with curious eyes, one given to slight smiles as he listened closely to the banter of the adults around him. Tal suspected he was an intelligent child. The younger members of the royal family were absent, the other two princes and the Princess no doubt being made ready for bed by their servants and nannies.
To Constantine’s left stood a man dressed in a burgundy-colored tunic of velvet, fastened with loops and frogs made from diamonds. He wore black leggings rather than this season’s wide-bottomed trousers, and his feet were encased in polished but serviceable boots. He wore the same black hat Tal had seen him wearing two years before, a large velvet thing that hung over his right ear almost to his shoulder, with a gold badge on the left.
It was the Duke of Olasko.
Kaspar of Olasko studied the young squire while still engaging the young prince in conversation, a skill Tal observed, for while Prince Constantine was being kept occupied by his distant cousin, Olasko was assessing Tal closely. Tal considered it possible that Kaspar was one of those men who could focus on two things at the same time. Even among the magicians Tal knew, that was a rare gift.
Out of the corner of his eye, as he bowed before the King, Tal reacquainted himself with Kaspar. He was a burly man with a broad chest and powerful shoulders, and muscles revealed by the tight leggings suggested he might also be a man with some speed. He glanced at Tal in such a way that the younger man suspected that the Duke recognized he was being appraised. His face was round, but his chin jutted a bit, robbing him of any comic cast to his features. He sported a thin-cut black beard, with his upper lip shaved, which gave his chin an even more aggressive appearance. His hair was still mostly black, though a sprinkling of grey hinted he was a man in his early forties. His eyes were those of a predator, black and searching. And his mouth was full, sensuous without being decadent, and set in a near smirk Tal had seen several times before.
Tal straightened from his bow, and the King said, “Squire Hawkins, it is good to have you in our court again.”