Kaspar nodded. “Svetlana?”
Tal looked at him. “Not a night goes by when I do not think of her murder.”
Kaspar sighed. Gently, he placed his hand on Tal’s shoulder. “It is said by some that the gods show us their bitter humor by molding us into what we hate most in others.”
Tal nodded again. “Go back to your inn and wait quietly. Try to avoid being seen. I will send word as soon as I have been contacted.”
“I know this is difficult for you,” Kaspar said, “but believe me when I say that we do have a common cause, for my description cannot do justice to what I saw.”
“I understand. Try to keep Amafi out of sight, as well.”
“I will. Good day.”
Tal simply nodded.
Kaspar left the establishment and made his way quickly back to the inn. He strode through the common room to his own room, half-expecting Amafi to have disappeared, but instead he found the old assassin asleep on his bed. He awoke instantly when Kaspar closed the door behind him. “Magnificence, do we live another day?”
“We live another day.” Looking at the motionless Talnoy standing in the corner, Kaspar wondered how many days they had. Then, looking back to Amafi, he said, “We need a bigger room.”
Days went by and Kaspar waited patiently. Then, after a week of silence, a messenger arrived with a note from Tal. Come to dinner, was all it said. Kaspar said to Amafi, “I think something has come up. We are to dine at the River House tonight.”
The rest of the day passed slowly for Kaspar, for he was anxious to get on with whatever task was necessary to see this thing to the end. The Talnoy stood in the corner, a daily reminder of the terror that was dimensions away, yet lurking in every shadow. The appearance of the rift at sea, and the terrible creature that had tried to come through it, reminded him of Kalkin’s warning—that the Talnoy was a beacon to the other world and its continued existence increased the likelihood of a Dasati invasion tenfold with each passing day.
At last, early evening came, and Kaspar and Amafi dressed for dinner. They walked to the River House rather than renting a carriage. As Tal had observed, the less they did to call attention to themselves, the better.
They were almost at the restaurant when Amafi hesitated. “Magnificence, we are being followed.”
“How many?”
“Two, at least.”
“Agents of the Duke?”
“I don’t think so. These men are hunters. Turn right at the next corner, and stay close.”
As soon as they rounded the corner, Amafi grabbed Kaspar’s arm and pulled him into a doorway. They waited in the shadows as the two men walked away. Both wore heavy, dark-gray cloaks and floppy hats which hid their features. They hurried along, unaware that Amafi and Kaspar had turned another corner a short distance away.
“Shall we follow, Magnificence?”
“No,” said Kaspar. “We should not court trouble. Especially when it is looking for us.” He stepped out of the doorway. “Come, back this way.”
They returned to their original route, and soon arrived at the River House. Once inside, they were immediately shown upstairs to a room at the rear of the house. There they found Tal waiting with his wife and a man who Kaspar had seen once before, a tall white-haired magician.
Tal nodded a greeting. “Kaspar, I believe you remember Magnus.”
“I could hardly forget.”
Humorlessly, the magician said, “I see you survived the nomads.”
“And many other things, too. What has Tal told you?”
“Things that should not be repeated here.” Turning to Tal, Magnus said, “We shall return, soon.” Then, to Amafi, he said, “Stay here with Tal.”
Magnus stepped forward and put his hand on Kaspar’s shoulder. Kaspar felt a buzz, saw a sudden blur of gray, and then found himself somewhere else, in the middle of the afternoon.
He could hear the birds in the trees as he looked around his new location. A large villa rested in a peaceful valley before him. Kaspar could see people milling around the villa, as well as other creatures which he could not identify. Yet, with all that he had seen so far, nothing shocked him for long.
“Where are we?”
“On my father’s estate, on an island in the Bitter Sea.”
“Your father was the short, earnest gentleman who convinced Tal to spare my life a year ago, correct?”
At that, the tall magician smiled. “Yes, that was my father. Come, he is expecting me to return and explain Tal’s cryptic message. It is better that you tell him the tale yourself.”
Magnus led Kaspar into the villa through a large rectangular building which framed a lovely garden. He led the former Duke of Olasko down a long corridor and into a very large room in which stood a desk and a massive collection of books, scrolls, and parchments organized on shelves, in wicker baskets, and some just piled in a corner on the floor. A short, bearded man in a black robe sat at the desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he read something inscribed on a parchment.
When he looked up, he seemed mildly surprised. “Magnus, I didn’t expect you to return with…Kaspar of Olasko, if I’m not mistaken?”
“You’re not, Father,” said Magnus. “Tal Hawkins sent word that he needed to speak with a member of the Conclave, and when I answered the summons he told me a strange and terrible story. It is a tale best recounted by this man.”
“I am Pug, and this is my home,” said the short man. “I do not recall if we were ever properly introduced,” he added dryly.
Kaspar laughed. “I believe we were both somewhat distracted.”
“What is this terrible tale that impels my son to break protocol and invite you here without my leave?” He threw his son a questioning look.
“If what he says is true, Father, it is most vital.”
Pug said, “Very well. Hmm…I can’t call you ‘Your Grace’ any more, can I?”
“Kaspar will do.” He sat in the chair at the opposite side of the desk.
Pug waved the parchment he had been studying. “It’s a bit of a coincidence that you should appear today; I was trying to understand something left behind at your citadel by your friend Leso Varen.”
Kaspar laughed. “The last year has left me with the decided impression that friend is hardly the right term. Manipulative parasite describes him more accurately, I believe.”
Pug sighed. “I almost wish he was still alive, because there are many questions that I would relish putting to him.”
“Oh, he’s alive.”
Pug sat up straight. “Are you sure?”
Kaspar looked perplexed. “I did not see his body, but I have it on good authority that he’s alive somewhere. The person who told me explained that he is like a cockroach—you can stamp on him all day, but he just won’t die.”
Pug laughed. “I’ve faced him directly and indirectly upon a number of occasions, and that is as fair a description as I’ve heard. But I’m dubious. Who told you he was alive?”
“I believe she is called Arch-Indar.”
Pug sat back, his face a mask of open astonishment. “She’s a god.”
“And a dead one, too,” said Magnus.
“Well, I was told that she’s actually just the memory of a god.”
“By whom?”
“A Keeper who dwells in the mountains below the Pillars of Heaven, under the Pavilion of the Gods. He told me that before sending me to the Pavilion to speak with Kalkin.”
Pug said, “You spoke to Kalkin?”
“Banath, yes,” said Kaspar. “Arch-Indar directed me to the Keepers, who in turn led me to Kalkin. He was the one who told me to find you.”
Pug sat back, then said to Magnus. “Inform your mother and send for Nakor. I think that they, too, will wish to hear this tale.”
When his son had left, Pug said, “We’ll try to keep this civilized and convivial, Kaspar, but I do wish to impress one thing upon you.”
“Which is?”
“If your sto
ry doesn’t live up to my son’s estimation of importance, there will be consequences.”
Kaspar said nothing.
Pug said, “I would like to believe that you are no longer Leso Varen’s pawn, but that wish has little to do with the security of my people. If you do not convince me by the time you finish your tale you’re done for, and you will not leave this island alive. Is that understood?”
“Understood.” Kaspar was quiet for a minute, then he said, “If it’s not too much trouble, I was about to dine a moment ago, before our…journey here.”
Pug smiled. “I think we can arrange for some food.”
Kaspar sat back. He welcomed the prospect of a meal, but regretted that, if this was to be his last, it wasn’t at the River House.
NINETEEN
CONSULTATION
Kaspar waited.
He had finished telling his story to Pug and the others, and as had been the case with the Keepers, he had been asked a lot of questions. Now they sat quietly as each member of the Conclave pondered what had been said.
The woman was named Miranda; but although she was Pug’s wife and Magnus’s mother, she looked no older than her son. She had dark hair and a penetrating gaze, and her manner indicated that she was considered an equal here; her simple blue robe hid none of the fact that she was trim and fit, and still youthful despite her years. The short man, Nakor, Kaspar remembered from his brief encounter with the magicians after the fall of his citadel. He wore a yellow robe, cut raggedly at the knees, and carried a wooden staff. From his shoulder hung a large travel bag. He had been grinning when he had entered the room, but as Kaspar’s story unfolded, his grin had faded and now his expression was one of somber consideration. Magnus never lost his serious expression throughout.
“Very well,” said Pug after a minute. “Your thoughts?”
Miranda crossed her arms. “I think we need to examine this Talnoy at once.”
Magnus said, “I’m concerned about the news that Leso Varen is still alive. We have yet to uncover the location of that abominable rift he was working on in Opardum.”
Nakor shook his head. “And I’m concerned over the fact that if he is still alive, Varen may also be looking for the Talnoy. The two men following Kaspar earlier today in Opardum may have been agents of the King of Roldem or the Duke of Olasko, but they also may have been Varen’s agents.”
Kaspar said, “Forgive me, but it’s difficult to hear ‘Duke of Olasko’ in reference to someone else. In any event, does Varen have agents?”
“His organization is as impenetrable to us as ours is to him,” Pug said. “We have many allies, and are a council, while Varen counts no other his equal, I believe, but reigns supreme over his minions.”
“But you could be wrong,” said Nakor.
“I’m still wrestling with what Kaspar saw on this other world,” said Magnus. “How much of it is accurate?”
“It’s what I saw,” said Kaspar.
“It’s what Kalkin showed you,” said Nakor. With a grin, he added, “And Banath is not called the Trickster for nothing. Who knows what his agenda is?”
“Certainly not to see the world of Midkemia destroyed.”
“No,” said Miranda. “But there may be far more to it than merely a risk to humanity and the other intelligent races here. Nakor’s right. Banath can have shown you only part of the truth. Just your description of these…”
“Dasati,” supplied Kaspar.
“…Dasati,” continued Miranda, “leaves me wondering. Cruelty, I know. We’ve witnessed enough of it right here on Midkemia.” She fixed Kaspar with a baleful look, but made no further comment. “We are…or rather, Kaspar is, only aware of what he was allowed to see. Logic dictates that there must be more to that society than simple cruelty and self-interest. To have reached such a plateau of power and organization requires a certain willingness to cooperate and make sacrifices.”
“Different rules and laws, is what Kalkin said.” Kaspar smiled. “I had such thoughts as well after seeing it. But I know enough about civic authority and ruling a population to know that you may hold sway through power and terror for a while, but you do not build a centuries-old culture that way.”
“This is becoming abstract,” Magnus said. “Perhaps they achieved their social pinnacle, and then changed. But whatever the cause, we need to worry about who they are now and what their intentions may be.”
“If what I saw is accurate,” said Kaspar, “they have no intentions yet, but if they become aware of us, then I suspect they will conquer first and ask questions later. Kalkin mentioned that the Dasati empire spanned worlds.”
“Assumptions?” asked Pug.
“That we move quickly,” said Magnus.
Miranda nodded. “I think we fetch this Talnoy here, now, and start examining it.”
Nakor said, “I think I will venture to the temple of Banath in the City of Kesh, and see if any of my old friends there have any inkling of what Banath—or Kalkin,” he nodded to Kaspar, “has to say on the subject. It would not surprise me to find out they know a great deal or nothing at all, but one should ask. I will return in two days.” He left the room.
“Very well,” said Pug. “We agree that time is of the essence, so Magnus, take Kaspar back to Opardum and fetch the Talnoy and bring it back here.” To his wife he said, “You and I should discuss who is to work with us.”
She nodded, and Kaspar stood up. He looked at Magnus and said, “Where to now?”
Magnus put his hand on Kaspar’s shoulder and suddenly they were in the back room behind the kitchen of the River House. “Here,” said Magnus.
Kaspar felt his knees go slightly weak for a moment then, gathering himself, he said, “I will never get used to that.”
Magnus smiled. “Wait here while I speak to Tal.”
In a few minutes Tal returned with Magnus. “The three of us should go to your room and collect that thing,” Magnus said.
“Why the three of us?” asked Kaspar.
“Because we could use an extra sword and there aren’t a lot of people I can take the time to explain things to,” said Magnus impatiently. “Just come along and let’s get on with it.”
The three men left the River House and hurried to Kaspar’s room at the inn. The hour was late and Tal had finished showing out the last customer before Kaspar and Magnus appeared. The streets echoed with their sound of their boots upon the cobbles, and they moved purposefully but alertly through the dark streets of Opardum.
As they neared the inn, Kaspar held up his hand. Whispering, he said, “Something’s wrong.”
“What?” asked Magnus.
“I see them,” said Tal. “Two men in the shadows, one opposite the inn, lurking in a doorway, another just at the corner of the alley on this side of the building.”
“I saw nothing,” said Magnus.
Kaspar stepped back into the shadows, and motioned the others to follow suit. “If those are the same men who followed Amafi and me earlier tonight…” He glanced at the dark sky, “It is the same night, isn’t it?”
Magnus nodded.
“If it is the same two, then Amafi was right and we’re being followed.” He glanced around. “If I hurry back and loop around and come down the alley quietly, I should be able to get a good look at the one at the corner without him being aware of it.”
Tal said, “I’m more likely to do it without being noticed, Kaspar.”
“Yes,” said the former duke, “but you don’t know what they looked like.”
“Floppy hats, large cloaks?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see their faces?”
“No.”
“Then you don’t know what they look like either. Wait here.”
Kaspar and Magnus waited. “They must have followed Amafi here, and are now waiting to see when I’ll show up.”
“Perhaps others have already gone inside and taken your man?”
Kaspar chuckled. “Hardly. The Talnoy would have prevented
that, given my instructions; anyone else who entered the room besides Amafi or myself was to be incapacitated.”
About five minutes after Tal departed a commotion erupted in the alleyway, and Kaspar and Magnus saw the man opposite the door to the inn race toward the alley, drawing his sword.
Kaspar drew his own blade. “All right then, here we go!” He charged down the street and turned into the alley in time to see Tal standing over one fallen man and beating back the other with a furious assault. Kaspar stuck the point of his sword in the small of the man’s back and shouted, “That’s enough!”
The man froze and let his sword fall. Tal stepped forward and pulled the man’s hat off, then Kaspar spun him around.
The man was a stranger. Kaspar looked at Tal and said, “You’re more likely not to be noticed?”
Tal shrugged. “So I’m out of practice.”
Magnus stepped up to the man and said, “Who sent you?”
The man looked at his fallen comrade and then at Magnus and Tal. Magnus said, “Do not try to deceive us, man. We have means to make you speak the truth!”
The dark-cloaked man lunged forward as if to attack Magnus, and Kaspar struck him hard across the face with the hilt of his sword. The man went face down onto the cobbles. Then he tried to get up. Too late, Magnus shouted, “Hold him!”
By the time Tal and Kaspar had hold of him, he was already convulsing. “He’s taken poison,” said Magnus.
Tal went to inspect the first man he had fought. “He’s dead also.”
Magnus knelt beside him, put his hand inside his shirt and pulled out a medallion. He swore. “Not again!”
“What is it?” asked Tal.
Magnus held out the medallion. It was a base metal of some sort, perhaps pewter, blacked. In bas-relief a single hawk had been inscribed. “What does this mean?” asked Kaspar.