“I have discovered a way to get a message to your sister, Magnificence. It will cost only a little gold, for the girl who works in the palace is a foolish child who is easily gulled. But it is dangerous, for should anyone discover she’s bringing word to the Duchess from her brother she will babble like a brook.”
“Such is the risk,” said Kaspar. He took a small piece of folded vellum out of his tunic. “Send this to Talia tonight.”
“The girl will be in a tavern near the citadel, for she has family working there. She helps out in the citadel’s kitchen and laundry, but she does not live there. It may take a day or two for her to find a means to slip the note to your sister, but she claims she is able.”
“Something troubles you, Amafi?”
The old assassin rubbed his hands as if they were cold. “Ayee,” he said, a sound of pure exasperation, “you’ll forgive me, Magnificence, but I have had a poor run lately; I tend to be picking the losing sides. I served Talwin and you betrayed him, then you, and you were in turn betrayed. I’m hoping my luck is due for a change.”
“We both are,” said Kaspar dryly. “Now go. Look for me tonight at the River House.” He tossed a small purse to the man. “When you’re done, come back and buy yourself some decent apparel. I can’t have you coming to the River House looking like a rag-picker.”
“Yes, Magnificence,” said Amafi with a grin. “I shall serve.”
Kaspar watched him leave and sighed. The chances were even that the wily old killer would sell him to the constables the first chance he got if he thought he could somehow avoid being confronted with his own malefactions, but Kaspar had to take risks at this point. His sister was the only one with authority who might keep him alive long enough to fulfil his mission.
Kaspar could feel it. He was close. Close to taking that infernal thing in his room to the palace, close to explaining the situation and, hopefully, finding Talwin Hawkins and through him, the Conclave of Shadows.
The River House was one of the finest dining establishments in Olasko, according to all reports. It had been opened in the last six months, so Kaspar had obviously never dined there, but he felt the need of a good meal. An epicurean, Kaspar hadn’t had what he considered a decent meal since before his capture. If his time was short, he at least would live well for the last few days. Besides, he was convinced no one would recognize him given his relatively new appearance.
The owner were a couple from the Kingdom, a cook and his wife, and this had become to place to dine among the wealthy commons and minor nobility. In past years it had been the estate of a noble whom Kaspar’s father had ruined. The home had changed hands several times, and most recently it had been something of an inn, with a brothel upstairs. Now it had been completely renovated and was providing meals at midday and at night in the fashion that had come from Bas-Tyra. With no bar or common room, it was neither inn nor tavern. Rather it was called a restaurant, in that language, a place to be restored. It was proving so popular in the Bas-Tyra province of the Kingdom of the Isles, that similar establishments were appearing in major cities throughout the region. It was a perfect place to dine for those with homes which were too small to entertain in, or for those whose means prevented them from having a cook on their staff.
The room was crowded. If the throng desiring to be seated tonight was an indication, the food would live up to its reputation. Kaspar had been forced to give the manager a healthy bribe to find him a small table in the corner, and only because it was early in the evening.
The corner suited Kaspar, as he could easily watch who came and went. Several familiar faces dotted the room, not people he knew well, but rich commoners and minor nobles of his court. He found it amusing that none of them noticed him there. He started slowly, with a cold white wine imported from the Kingdom, while he dined on shellfish and raw shrimp. The dishes were superb.
As he ate, Kaspar saw more familiar faces come into the room, yet no one gave him a second glance. He realized something about human nature; people do not recognize one another outside a familiar context unless they are very well acquainted. No one for a moment considered that the man in the corner might be a thinner, sunburned, fitter Kaspar of Olasko, because no one expected ever to see the former duke sitting in the corner of this establishment, dining at his leisure. At most someone might say, “I saw a fellow tonight who bore an uncanny resemblance to the old Duke. What do you think of that?”
The pretty woman who served him was named Magary, the cook’s wife, and she was charming without being flirtatious—a welcome change from the coarse serving women he had encountered everywhere he had dined since his exile began. She recommended several dishes. By the second course, Kaspar was determined to at least taste everything she recommended, even if he couldn’t finish every dish, for the flavors were stupendous.
The other woman serving customers was a regal-looking woman with reddish-blonde hair, who would have been called beautiful if it hadn’t been for her aloof manner. She smiled, but there was little warmth in it.
Kaspar was trying a new dish—fresh field-greens with a vinegar and fruit compote on the side, covered in lemon juice and spices. The crunchy texture took some getting used to, but the flavors were wonderful. Magary poured Kaspar a different white wine and said, “The tartness of the dressing on the salad clashes with most wine, but I think you’ll find this one goes well with it.”
It did indeed, and Kaspar complimented her on the choice as he began another course, a whole stuffed squab with spices and a sauce that made him want to linger.
As he finished the bird, Kaspar saw Amafi entered the establishment, and point to Kaspar. The manager looked in Kaspar’s direction and Kaspar waved the Quegan over to his table.
As Amafi sat down, Kaspar said, “You must try the squab. It is amazing.”
“So I have heard, Magnificence.”
“You look good,” Kaspar said, indicating with a wave of his fork Amafi’s new clothing.
“Thank you. It feels good to be clean again.”
Magary came over and when she saw Amafi her face froze and she hesitated. She turned and vanished into the kitchen.
Amafi sat motionless for a moment, then stood, “Magnificence, we must leave, now!”
Kaspar sat back. “What?”
Amafi reached over and took him by the arm. “Now, sir, at once. I’ve been recognized.”
Kaspar was halfway out of his chair when the girl returned from the kitchen with two men behind her, both dressed in white cooks’ clothing. Before either Amafi or Kaspar could draw a weapon, one of the two men had a sword leveled at them.
“Well, if this isn’t the most unexpected surprise of my life, I don’t know what is,” said Talwin Hawkins.
EIGHTEEN
CONFRONTATION
Kaspar stood motionless.
The gravity of the moment was not lost on him. He had found the man he sought, but if he said or did anything wrong he could be killed in an instant.
Pale blue eyes with cold murder in them regarded Kaspar. Tal Hawkins’ mouth was set in a humorless grin. Diners saw his unsheathed sword and many began to rise from their tables nervously.
“Be seated and rest easy, my lords, ladies, and gentlemen. This is just a simple misunderstanding over the cost of the meal,” said Tal. He motioned Amafi and Kaspar toward the kitchen door with his sword. “In there, if you please, gentlemen.” And in a softer tone, “Remember that I can gut you before you can make a move in the wrong direction.”
Kaspar edged toward the kitchen and said, “Amafi, please don’t try anything stupid. You’re not as fast as you once were.”
“Yes, my lord,” said Amafi. “A fact of which I am painfully aware.”
Once in the kitchen, Tal Hawkins motioned the two men to a table in the corner. “Take your swords and knives out, slowly, and that includes the two in your boots and the one behind your belt-buckle, Amafi, and place them all on the table.”
The two men did so.
“I�
�ve witnessed many amazing things, Kaspar,” Tal said, “but I confess, to have Magary come and tell me that she’d been serving Amafi for the last hour and then to come out and discover that he was dining with you, well, that is easily the most astonishing thing of all. How did you come back, and how could you be so brazen as to enter my establishment?”
“The truth is,” Kaspar replied, “I had no idea you had become an innkeeper.”
“This is not an inn, it is a restaurant. Lucien and his wife were my servants in Salador. When the war was over I sent for them and started this business, along with my wife.” He indicated the quiet woman Kaspar had seen serving tables earlier. Now, she stood in the corner holding a long knife. “She knows who you are, Kaspar, and will happily gut you should I let her. Care to give me one reason why I shouldn’t?”
“Because I have a very long, very strange story to tell you.”
“And why should I listen to anything you have to say? Why shouldn’t I just call the constables and have them frog-march you both to the citadel and let Duke Rodoski decide what to do with you…assuming, of course, that Teal lets you leave here alive?”
Kaspar said, “I need to whisper something to you.” He put his hands behind his back. “On my word, I will not attempt to harm anyone in this kitchen, but when you hear what I have to say you will understand why no one else can know.”
“Lucien,” Tal said to the cook.
“Yes?”
“Take one of those swords and place the point against the neck of the former duke, here,” said Tal. “Should he do anything, feel free to skewer him.”
Lucien lifted a blade and grinned. “Yes, Tal.”
Kaspar leaned over and spoke softly into his enemy’s ear, “I need to take something to the Conclave of Shadows.”
Talwin Hawkins, once known as Talon of the Silver Hawk, the last man of the Orosini, stood motionless for a long moment, and then laid down his sword. He turned to Amafi and said, “Sit here, and do not move.”
“Yes, Magnificence,” replied his former bodyservant.
To his wife, Tal said, “I will explain everything later.”
She didn’t look happy, but she nodded once and put the knife down.
Then, to the others Tal said, “Go back to work—if we have any customers left, they will want service.”
Lucien, Magary, and Teal went back to work and the kitchen buzzed into action around them.
“I have a room at the back where we can speak privately,” said Tal.
“One favor.”
“You’re asking me for a favor?” Tal stared at Kaspar in amazement.
“Please; you interrupted my meal. I was hoping, if you didn’t mind, we could talk while I finished eating. This is simply the finest meal I’ve ever had.”
Tal stood in mute astonishment for a moment, then with a shake of his head he laughed. “Improbability upon impossibility. Very well.” He called over to Magary, “If you don’t mind, would you serve this…gentleman the balance of his meal in the back room. And please bring two glasses for the wine.”
Keeping his sword leveled at Kaspar, Tal motioned for him to move through a door at the back of the kitchen. Inside the room beyond stood a table with eight seats around it. “This is where the staff eat,” Tal explained.
Kaspar nodded. He pulled out a chair and sat down. Tal remained standing as Magary appeared with the wine and two glasses. Tal indicated that Kaspar should pour, and he did.
“Tal, I’ll bring in the beef in a few minutes,” Magary said.
Tal nodded. “Close the door, please.”
Kaspar took a long drink. “Before I begin, let me say that this establishment has stunned me, young Hawkins. Your talents never cease to amaze me. The selection of food and wine is unsurpassed.”
“Been a while since you’ve had a good meal?”
Kaspar laughed. “Longer than you know; but even when compared to the citadel’s cuisine, this is amazing fare. Had I but known, I would never have wasted you as an agent. I’d have made you the highest-paid cook in the Eastern Kingdoms.”
“Most of the credit belongs to Lucien. We work well together, but he’s the true visionary. Now, please begin.” Tal sat down but kept his sword leveled at Kaspar.
“I have a long story to tell you, so perhaps we should wait until the next course is served so as not to be interrupted? It can be told only to a few people.”
“Your request suggests as much.”
A few minutes later, Magary appeared with a steaming plate of beef in gravy, garnished with spiced vegetables. After she left, Kaspar took a bite. “You outdo yourself with each dish, Talwin.”
“If you live long enough, Kaspar, remind me to tell you how cooking helped me get off that rock.”
“The Fortress of Despair?”
“Yes. I think you’ll find the tale amusing.”
“I wish that I could say the same of my story. I’ll skip the early days of my exile, save to say that it was educational. Let me begin with that small city called Simarah, where I encountered three traders from Port Vykor named Flynn, Kenner, and McGoin.”
Kaspar began to tell his story.
The night passed slowly. When the last guests had departed, Teal knocked and entered to see if her husband and the man who had destroyed their people were still engaged in conversation. Tal rose and approached her immediately, turning his back on Kaspar, and leaving his sword on the table within easy reach, so Teal knew that there would be no bloodshed.
Tal told her that he might be there all night, so she went to where Amafi sat waiting patiently and said, “My husband bids you to return to your inn. Your master will send word when it is time for you to rejoin him.” As he stood, she added, “Both my husband and Kaspar instruct you not to try to leave the city.”
Amafi shrugged. “I’ve been trying to leave for about a year now. I expect it is fate that I stay.” He bowed to the young woman and departed.
She stared for a long time at the kitchen door. She considered returning, but thought better of it, realizing that the man who had destroyed her world, and the man who had rescued her and her son from slavery were going to be in there for a long time. Eventually she turned and went upstairs to bed.
Kaspar and Tal were still at the table in the back room when Lucien, Magary, and Teal entered the kitchen in the morning. Tal had boiled some coffee and the two men had consumed several full pots.
As the others entered, Tal said, “I have something to tell you all.” He motioned his wife over to his side and put his arm around her. “Teal, more than anyone, understands that this man is the author of unimaginable horrors.”
Kaspar sat dispassionately, his face revealing nothing.
“I once forgave him for his crimes.” Tal looked at his wife. “But I will not ask you to do the same, Teal. While I was educated and allowed to live the life of a young noble, you endured degradation. I only ask your forbearance and understanding: I must keep this man alive for a while longer.”
At that, Kaspar smiled. “A long while, I hope.”
“That is not in my hands. I am aiding a fugitive now, and while I do not like it, I have no choice. If the City Watch catches sight of you and word reaches Rodoski, I will have to use whatever sense of indebtedness the Duke may feel toward me to keep you off the gallows.” He paused, then added, “Only a few can know about those things of which we spoke. I am forced to keep secrets from the woman I love,” he looked at his wife, “who bears this insult with a dignity I could not possibly match.”
Teal smiled slightly, and Kaspar was struck by her beauty. Gods, what kind of man was I, he wondered silently, to ruin a life such as hers simply to satisfy mad political ambition?
Kaspar stood up and bowed to Tal’s young wife. “Madam,” he began, “words will never heal the wounds I have given you. I do not expect your forgiveness. I just wish you to know that I deeply regret what I have done to you and your people, and that I feel unfathomable shame for my deeds.”
Quiet
ly, Eye of the Blue-Winged Teal spoke. “I am alive. I have a healthy son and a husband who cherishes me. My life has been good this last year.”
Kaspar felt the moisture well in his eyes at the woman’s quiet majesty. He said, “You put me in mind of another woman I know, to whom I owe a great deal. I will do what I can in the future to make sure that she and others like her do not suffer.”
Teal inclined her head slightly.
Tal said, “Well, Kaspar and I have much to do in the next few days, but until then we have breakfast to make and a midday menu to prepare. Lucien, what are we serving today?”
Lucien grinned and started speaking about the ingredients they needed to purchase at the market and which dishes he thought would be likely to attract customers that day. Kaspar waited until the kitchen settled into its normal rhythm and then took Tal aside. “I assume you have means to reach those people?”
Tal didn’t need to be told to whom he referred. “As I told you, I am no longer in their service. I have the means to let them know I need to speak to someone, but how long that will take…?” He shrugged.
Kaspar stood silent for a moment. “Could you get word to Talia that I’m still alive?”
Tal nodded. “Yes, though I do not haunt the halls of power any more.” He waved his hand around the kitchen. “I find this life far more enjoyable. I think my grandfather would have difficulty understanding the appeal; the food of my people—” His eyes were distant for a moment.
Kaspar said nothing.
Tal broke from his momentary reverie. “I’m sure she’ll wish to see you, but it may prove difficult. Until we can conceive of a way to convince her husband not to hang you, you would be well advised to stay out of sight. It should be easy, as you look different enough. You might have dined in peace the entire night and left, had Magary not recognized Amafi.
“In any event, we share a common cause until those you wish to speak with tell me otherwise.” He grew reflective, then said flatly, “We may be allies for a while and I can live with that, but make no mistake, Kaspar: while I forgave you, I will never forget what you ordered, and to the end of my days, I will hold you in contempt.” He paused. “As I hold myself in contempt for the things I did in your service.”
Exile's Return: Conclave of Shadows: Book Three Page 23