Father! I want you to take the boys back home with you.’
Pug turned on Caleb and seized his arm. ‘I have treated you like a man since you first showed me that you could accept a man’s responsibilities. Do you remember how old you were?’
‘Seventeen,’ said Caleb. ‘I remember asking you to send me on a mission.’ He hung his head, knowing where this conversation was headed.
‘How old are Tad and Zane?’
‘Seventeen this Midsummer’s Day.’
Pug was silent for a minute, then said, ‘You had no choice but to bring the boys back to our island. But that decision made them a concern of the Conclave, even though there were limits to their obligation and what we might ask of them once we were certain that they could be trusted. You asked for neither my nor your mother’s counsel when you chose to wed Marie and bring the boys into our family.’
Caleb nodded. ‘I realize as much.’
‘I could never tell you where to find your happiness, Caleb. No man can. I realize that your life has been harder in many ways than Magnus’. You were always the odd boy out, the one who couldn’t do magic. I do understand that. But your choice has put those two boys in a situation they hardly understand. It is your duty as their stepfather to teach them what it means to be part of this family.’
Pug looked into the darkness for a moment. ‘I had been a prisoner in a Tsurani work camp for two years, and Tomas fought alongside the dwarves in Grey Towers when we were Tad and Zane’s age.
‘Maybe it’s fate,’ said Pug, as he looked into his son’s eyes. ‘But be it fate, chance or whim, they are now part of this and you must teach them what that means.’
‘Marie will not be happy.’
‘I know, but we will do everything we can to bring her into our family.’ Pug then smiled. ‘Do you think she’s ready for what she’ll find on Sorcerer’s Isle?’
Caleb said, ‘She’s pretty level-headed, I think she’ll manage.’ Then as they turned back to the festival, he added, ‘But it might be wise to prevent her becoming too friendly with the Pithirendar sisters until she’s had a chance to adjust. There are some things a mother doesn’t need to discover about her sons.’
Pug nodded. ‘You mean like that time your mother popped into that brothel in Salador because she was looking for you?’
Caleb laughed. ‘That’s exactly what I mean. I don’t know who was more upset, me, Mother, or the whore.’
Pug patted his son’s shoulder. ‘My money would be on your mother.’
Caleb said, ‘You’re probably right.’
They returned to the festival and Caleb sought out his bride. A heavy sadness descended upon him as he considered just how he would tell her that he and their sons would be leaving without her at first light.
TAL FEIGNED PATIENCE.
Petro Amafi stood at his master’s right arm, once again playing the role of dutiful manservant to Tal’s bored Kingdom noble. Far in the distance he could make out Kaspar, now using the name André Comté du Bassillon, from the Duke’s court in Bas-Tyra.
Like all visiting nobility, he was honour bound to present himself to the Imperial court upon arrival in Great Kesh. Emperor Diigai was too busy, of course, to see them: Kaspar, now a low-level functionary, despite carrying marques from the King of the Isles naming him trade envoy plenipotentiary, and Talwin Hawkins, minor noble and Champion of the Masters’ Court in Roldem, were simply not of sufficient rank to warrant taking up any part of the old Emperor’s time.
They would be greeted in turn by a minor functionary of the court, one of sufficient rank to not slight visitors, but not of high enough rank to give them too high an opinion of their status. As Kaspar had explained to Talwin before they had left Roldem together, while Roldem considered itself the cultural centre of the Sea of Kingdoms, Kesh viewed itself as the virtual centre of the known world, with some justification.
It was historically the most powerful nation on the entire world of Midkemia, and only the constant issue of keeping the southern vassal states, the so-called ‘Keshian Confederacy’, under control prevented the Empire from extending its borders further. Two hundred years earlier a revolt in the south had allowed the northern province of Bosania, now split into the Duchy of Crydee and the Free Cities of Natal, and the island province of Queg, to break free of the Empire.
Currently Roldem’s navy was combined with the Kingdom of the Isles’ great Eastern Fleet, supported by a loose agreement among the small eastern Kingdoms to come to one another’s aid against any Keshian incursion, which kept the Empire contained in the east.
In the west, it was the Kingdom’s Western Fleet and the navy of the Empire of Queg, plus the economic strength of the Free Cities of Natal that had kept Kesh in check. So for the time being the political landscape over the entire continent of Triagia was stable for the first time in centuries. Which meant that the fighting now ran along economic and political lines, a great deal less overt, but no less nasty and dangerous than a military confrontation.
Talwin was doing his part to ensure that the stability presently being enjoyed by the citizens of all nations continued: it was clearly to their enemy’s advantage to see chaos descend in the region.
Tal noticed Kaspar trying to catch his eye and whispered to Amafi, ‘Go and see what Lord André needs.’
Petro Amafi, one-time assassin and betrayer of both men, quickly moved forwards past the others who were waiting quietly in the anteroom to the presentation hall.
There was a rough pattern to where people chose to stand, for everyone coming to be presented to the Emperor’s court had some sense of where they were likely to be in the order of those called. Near the door waited those of sufficient rank to be almost worthy enough to be presented directly to the Emperor: minor princes from distant lands, nobles who were related by blood to royalty, and envoys of lower than the rank of ambassador.
Kaspar had once enjoyed higher status, since he had been the ruler of the Duchy of Olasko. It was more than five years since he had last visited Kesh on a state visit, and he doubted many would recognize him – though he was occasionally given a second glance by one functionary or another who seemed to think that Kaspar was someone who they should know but didn’t quite remember. He was by his own estimate at least thirty pounds lighter than he had been when ruler of Olasko. A year of hard living and less than bountiful food, followed by a strict regimen of strenuous training and light eating had kept him slim. Instead of the closely cut beard he had once sported, he was now clean shaven, and he had let his hair grow to his shoulders. With clothing bought from the most fashionable tailor in Bas-Tyra, he looked entirely like a gentleman of that court.
‘Master Talwin asks what it is you need, Magnificence?’ said Amafi when he reached Kaspar’s side.
With a slight nod of his head, Kaspar said, ‘Tell the Squire I may be indisposed. I believe I may have been recognized.’
Amafi turned around inconspicuously, as if to talk to Pasko, the old agent who had served as one of Talon’s early teachers. Speaking of nothing of note, Amafi let his eyes sweep the room, not lingering long enough to establish eye contact with anyone, but still managing to identify every potential threat. Smiling, he turned back to Kaspar and said, ‘I assume my lord is referring to the minor functionary standing near that small door on the right?’
‘Actually, it was the man who spoke to him a moment ago before disappearing through that door,’ said Kaspar. ‘The other fellow is merely keeping an eye on me, I suspect.’
‘I