Tal made his way upstairs and entered the apartment. Pasko said, “Shall I draw a bath?’’
“No,” said Tal. “A cold wash doesn’t appeal to me right now. I think I’ll take a nap and in an hour go to Remarga’s Bathhouse and dress there for supper with Melinda. While I sleep, please send a note to her that I will be more than pleased to dine with her this night, and send my regrets to the other ladies who invited me.’’
“Yes, m’lord,” replied Pasko. Initially, to Tal’s surprise, Pasko had treated him as if he had been born to the nobility, and never once referred to Talon’s past history or forget his place, even when they were alone. And in the entire time since they had arrived in Roldem, Talwin Hawkins had come to live the role of an adventuring nobleman of the Kingdom of the Isles so deeply and so well that his past before arriving in Salador was even starting to become to him a dim memory, as if it belonged to someone else.
When Pasko set off with the messages, Tal undressed himself. He removed his cloak, jacket, and tunic and boots, then threw himself across his bed wearing only his trousers. He was tired from the practice, yet sleep was elusive, for he was restless, tensed up in anticipation of an invitation to the palace. And, in addition to that, the tournament began in less than a month’s time. He was beginning to feel the edge build. He must be careful; too much of an edge could make him overly anxious, make it difficult for him to keep his focus on the task at hand.
And he also knew that once the tournament was over, something else lay ahead for him, and he didn’t know what. Adopting the role of a Kingdom gentleman appeared to be as Rondar had predicted, the ostensible reasons for his years of training, but as yet no one had explained to him why.
His personal agenda had not changed. Eventually he would hunt down and destroy those who had murdered his family and friends, but until his current role was completed, until such time as Master Pug and his companions decided that his duty to the Conclave was discharged, then he must wait.
Even so, over the last few months a growing concern had been gnawing at him; what if he was never considered discharged of his duty to the Conclave; what if he were to die before he could avenge his people? The second alternative could not be considered, for if fate decreed that the last of the Orosini died before vengeance was visited upon the guilty, then so be it. But the first possibility worried him, for which duty was paramount? A life-debt was not something that any Orosini would lightly discard, for to do so would shame not only the man but also his family and his ancestors. But the blood-vengeance demanded by his culture was equally important. Perhaps the gods would turn a kind eye and show him a way to serve both debts honorably?
He rolled over onto his stomach, and then thought maybe they would not. Such things were out of his hands, so it was best not to worry.
He lay quietly for almost half an hour, but sleep still wouldn’t come. At last he decided that his mood would be better served by a longer bath than he had anticipated. He stood and called out for Pasko, whom he had heard returning from his errands.
The servant appeared, and Tal said, “Bring clothes. I’m for Remarga’s. Follow as soon as you have selected suitable attire for tonight’s supper. Have the carriage pick us up at Remarga’s an hour after sundown.’’
“Yes, m’lord,” said Pasko.
Tal dressed and left his apartment, walking briskly down the streets of Roldem. He never tired of the experience of traveling by foot through the city. The hive of shops clustered along each street, the press of people of all stripes—young, old, men and women, merchants, sailors, nobles, and commoners. The scent of the sea was everywhere, and that combined with the noise and confusion was intoxicating to a boy who had been raised in the isolation of the mountains.
Tal wondered if fate would provide him with an opportunity to return to his boyhood, and whether he would take that opportunity if it were offered. After barely a moment’s reflection, he knew he would. For no matter how wondrous the things he had gained, the knowledge, experience, and material wealth, they paled in comparison to what he had lost: home, family, and an authentic way of life.
Had he a wish, he’d trade everything to have his mother, father, sister, and the rest of his clan healthy and happy at home. It was a bitter thought that even the mightiest magician or all of them put together could never bring that wish into being.