“Agreed, but I find it best to keep the opportunity for trouble to a minimum; it has a habit of finding me anyway.”
She laughed. “Perhaps more tomorrow, then. But what about William? You said he would likely be off-duty this evening.”
James pointed to a side street. “Let’s cut down there. William is almost certainly at the Rainbow Parrot.”
“A soldiers’ tavern?”
James shrugged. “Not particularly, though many of Lucas’s patrons are old friends who served with him in the Riftwar. No, it’s just the place William prefers to frequent.”
Jazhara glanced sidelong at James. “A girl?”
James felt himself flush and decided a simple, direct answer was appropriate. “Yes. William has been seeing Talia, Lucas’s daughter, for several weeks now.”
“Good,” said Jazhara. “I feared he was still . . .”
As she paused, James supplied, “In love with you?”
Without looking at James she said, “Infatuated, I think, is a better word. I made a mistake and . . .”
“Look, it’s none of my business,” James said. “So if you don’t want to talk about it, fine.”
“No, I want you to know something.” She stopped and he turned to look at her. “Because you’re his friend, I think.”
“I am,” said James. James had been something of a mentor to William since he had arrived at Krondor.
“And I would like for us to be friends, as well.”
James nodded. “I would like that too.”
“So, you know, then, that William was a boy who followed me around for years once he was old enough to become interested in women. I was a few years older and to me he seemed an eager puppy, nothing more.” She paused and stared down at the street, as if recalling something difficult to recount. James, too, stood still. “I became involved with an older man, one of my teachers. It was not a wise thing to do. He was Keshian, as I was, and he shared many of the beliefs I do on magic and its uses. We drifted into a relationship without too much effort.
“Our affair became . . . awkward, for my family would not have approved of any such liaison, and rather than dictate to me, my great-uncle got word to my lover that he was to cease his involvement with me.” She began to walk slowly again, as if it helped her form her thoughts. James accompanied her. “He rejected me, and left Stardock, returning to the Empire.”
“And to a small reward, I’m sure.”
“At the least. Perhaps it was nothing more than wanting to spare me a confrontation with my own father or perhaps he was afraid - my great-uncle’s reach can be very long, even into a place such as Stardock.”
“And?” James prompted.
‘William was there. I was hurt and frightened and alone and William was there.” She looked at James. “He’s a lovely young man, honorable and kind, strong and passionate, and I felt abandoned. He helped me.” Her voice trailed off.
James shrugged. “But what?”
“But after a while I realized it was as wrong for me to be his lover as it had been for my teacher to be mine. William was the son of the duke, and had another destiny before him and I was . . . using him.”
James suppressed the quip that almost sprang to his lips about it not being a bad way to be used, and said instead, “Well, he wanted . . . I mean . . .”
“Yes, but I was older and should have seen the problems to come. So I broke off our affair. I fear I may have tipped the balance in his decision to leave Stardock and come to Krondor.”
They turned into a street and headed toward an inn displaying a large parrot with rainbow-colored feathers on a sign over the door. “Well, I’ve known Will for a bit now, and I think you can put aside that concern,” James said at last. “He was set on becoming a soldier, one way or another, all his life, from what he’s told me.”
Jazhara was about to reply, but before she knew it, James was drawing his sword and saying, “Guard yourself!”
She brought her staff to the ready and hurried after him. She saw that the door to the inn was partially open and that there was a dead soldier lying before it; and now she could hear the sound of fighting coming from within.
James kicked the door wide and leapt through, Jazhara behind him, staff at the ready. A scene of carnage greeted them. Two armed men lay dead on the ground, mercenaries judging by their dress. Several bar patrons also lay dead amidst the broken furniture. A young woman lay near the fireplace, blood pooling about her head.
In the corner William conDoin, cousin by adoption to the Royal House of Krondor and Lieutenant in the Prince’s Household Guard, stood ready with his large sword held two-handed before him. Three men advanced on him.
William, seeing the newcomers, “James! Jazhara! Help me! Talia’s been hurt!”