“Yes,” said Pasko. “Your doublet is sewn with seed pearls. This rig is worth almost as much as that dainty little golden sword you won.”
When he had finished dressing, the young victor stood before a rare and costly polished glass mirror and regarded himself. The yellow jacket and black breeches were complemented by a white shirt and red hat. Yet it was a stranger he saw. For a brief instant he didn’t recognize his reflection. There was no hint of the mountain boy who had sat shivering upon a frosty peak waiting for his vision. Before him stood a stranger, replete in the costly and most fashionable garb in Roldem, an urbane, educated young man who spoke many languages, played several instruments, could cook, paint, compose verse, and woo ladies of rank. For a bitter moment, Tal wondered if the boy within was lost forever. Then he pushed this dark thought out of his mind and turned to Pasko. “Come, we must not keep the King waiting.’’
They hurried to the main hall, where the Master of Ceremonies announced his arrival. Tal entered and walked across the hall to stand before the King while the onlookers applauded enthusiastically.
Next to the Queen stood the Duke of Olasko, and when the general compliments were finished, the Duke stepped forward with a slight smile on his lips, and said, “If I might have a moment, young sir.’’
Tal allowed the Duke to steer him off a short distance away from the King. Duke Kaspar spoke evenly, his voice a deep and soothing tone, belying the dangerous nature Tal sensed within him. “Do you have plans now that the contest is over, my young friend?’’
Tal said, “I have some family business I must attend to, but I haven’t given much thought to what happens after that, your grace.’’
“I’m always seeking men of special talent, young Hawkins, and you strike me as just that. The way you dispatched that Keshian Izmali put you far above most swordsmen, and your defeat of my champion today—well, let’s say there may not be another man in Olasko who could stand up to Campaneal.”
“You flatter me, your grace.’’
“No,” the Duke said softly. “Empty flattery is a waste of time. Those who serve me win praise when it’s deserved, just as they receive punishment when they fail. I’m pleased to say the rewards far outstrip the punishments in my court, for as I said, I seek exceptional men.” His smile broadened, and he said, “And women as well.’’
The Duke looked past Tal, and when Tal turned, he saw a slender women with golden tresses approach, a small smile upon her lips. Tal’s expression remained neutral as the Duke said, “My dear, may I present Squire Talwin Hawkins, late of the Kingdom?” To Tal he said, “Squire, this is my companion, the Lady Rowena of Taslin.’’
“My lady,” said Tal with a bow.
“My pleasure, Squire. I was late arriving in the city, but managed to reach the palace in time for the duel. You were magnificent.”
“You praise me too much, Lady,” said Tal.
Turning to the Duke, she said, “It’s a pity about the Lieutenant.”
“Yes, isn’t it?” said Kaspar. Then he turned to Tal. “Ah, you won’t have heard, will you? Your blow cut an artery in the groin. It’s a tricky thing, which pulls back up into the body when severed. I’m afraid my lieutenant bled to death while they were sending for a healing priest.’’
Tal felt his heart stop for a moment, then he said, “That is indeed regrettable, your grace.’’
“You know, it’s only the fourth fatality in the history of the tournament, and you’re responsible for two of them, in the same day. This afternoon’s was certainly justifiable, given the circumstances, but tonight’s . . . an unfortunate mishap. It’s a murderous wound.’’
Tal stiffened, but the Duke added, “A poor choice of words, my young friend. I watched the bout closely, and your thrust was blind. I don’t think you could see where the point was heading. It was clearly an accident.”
“I am very sorry to have cost you a fine officer,” Tal said.
“Well, then,” answered the Duke, “make it up to me by coming to Opardum and taking service with me.’’
Tal’s heart beat faster. “I’ll consider it, your grace. As I said, I have some family business that requires my attention, but once that’s finished . . . perhaps.’’
“Very good. Now if you’ll excuse me,” the Duke said, extending his arm and escorting the Lady Rowena away.
Tal made his way back to where Pasko was waiting, acknowledging a dozen congratulatory remarks on the way. When Pasko saw Tal’s face, he said, “What’s wrong?’’
“We must leave at and once and find out where Magnus is lurking.” Tal looked around the great hall. “I’m certain he’s out there somewhere.”
“And then?’’
“I will tell him I know who sent the assassins to kill me. It was the Duke of Olasko.’’
“How do you know?’’