“Not there, but in other places where they can get intelligence about some of the things that transpire on the island,” answered Magnus. “The farther removed from my parents we are, the less secure we are; that’s a fact of life for those of us in service to them.
“You’ve been out from under their direct care for more than three years now, Tal, and over that time someone may have discovered just enough clues to determine that you were the one to foil the attempt on my life.’’
“Revenge is unlikely if I understand anything about the nature of the conflict you’ve only hinted at, Magnus.’’
“True,” Magnus agreed. “But removing a dangerous opponent does make sense. Tal, they are always seeking to weaken us, to thwart any attempt we might make to gain an advantage, much the same as we do, so if they can identify one of our agents, they are likely to do whatever they can to remove him.’’
“That still doesn’t explain why they should try to kill me when I’m the least vulnerable, in front of hundreds of witnesses . . .” Tal waved his hand in frustration. “It just doesn’t make sense.’’
“It makes sense if someone is trying to send my father a message.’’
“What message?” Tal asked.
“That none of his agents is safe anywhere, at any time.’’
Tal pondered that, then said, “You said there were two possibilities. What’s the other?’’
“Someone wants to recruit you.’’
“Who?’’
“We’ll know if you’re offered a position, won’t we?’’
“You think someone went to all that trouble to see if I’m worth hiring?’’
“Some of the people you’ll encounter along the way, m’lord,” said Pasko as he finished eating a slice of pungent cheese, “are capable of almost anything.” He sat back against the table and picked up a slice of onion, which he daubed with mustard as he spoke. “You’re a dangerous man, all things being equal. Someone might want a great swordsman in his service, but only if he’s both a fine duelist and a deadly fighter. That surprise this afternoon showed you were both.’’
“True,” said Magnus. “The Conclave and our enemies are not the only people with resources, wealth, and a desire to bring talent into service.” Magnus glanced over to where Pasko was eating the mustard-covered onion and said, “How can you stand that?’’
“It’s wonderful, after the cheese,” Pasko said around a full mouth. “Wash it down with some good white wine . . .” He made a gesture with his thumb and fingers together, rolled his eyes, then closed them, and said, “Simply wonderful.”
Tal said, “I appreciate food as well as the next man, Pasko, but I think I’m inclined to agree with Magnus on this one.’’
“Try it, m’lord.” Pasko grabbed a plate, put on it a slice of onion and a slice of cheese next to each other, then spread mustard on the onion. He picked up a cup of wine and crossed to stand before Tal. “First a bit of the cheese, then the onion, then the wine.’’
Tal bit the cheese and found it a strong, hard cheese, and when he bit into the onion, discovered the mustard was especially hot. As his eyes began to water, he gulped the wine down. When he could speak he said, “Not bad, but I think you need to get used to it.’’
Magnus barked a short laugh. “I must be off. I have to speak with Father. I’ll be back to watch the contest.’’
“It’s less than an hour,” said Pasko.
“I’ll be back.” Magnus gripped his staff, and suddenly he was gone. There was a light inrush of air and a small popping sound and then nothing.
“That’s very dramatic,” said Tal.
“That’s one very dangerous young man,” said Pasko. “No one talks about it, but he may be more powerful than his father someday.’’
“Someday someone will have to tell me all about that family,” said Tal. As Pasko started to say something, Tal held up his hand, and said, “But not today. Right now I want to rest for half an hour and get focused. I’ve had enough distractions to last a lifetime, and in less than an hour I’ve got to face a man for the championship.”
As he settled back on the bed, his head propped up on a pillow, Tal added, “And I’ve got to work out how I’m going to kill the bastard without getting myself shot full of arrows and crossbow bolts.’’
Pasko paused in lifting another slice of cheese and onion to his mouth and watched Tal as he closed his eyes. Then he slowly put the food in his mouth and bit off a chunk. Nodding, he thought to himself that the mustard was indeed a bit on the hot side.
Tal stood before the King, his eyes fixed ahead. The Master of Ceremonies was droning on, obviously relishing the opportunity to bore the assembled nobility and influential commoners with the entire story of how the tournament of the Masters’ Court had begun.