instead you submit a petition to present yourself as a trade envoy plenipotentiary from the Duke of Bas-Tyra’s court? And then you walk in here and stand around like … like I don’t know what.’
The still-powerful-looking old man drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment, then added, ‘So, if you have a reason why I shouldn’t throw you and that servant of yours into the Overn to feed the crocodiles I’d love to hear it. Maybe I’ll toss in your friend Hawkins as well.’
Kaspar sat back. ‘Hawkins and I play cards, and I think he cheats. Nothing more. I thought perhaps arriving with a famous squire of the Kingdom might give me a little more credibility.’
‘Or get the youngster killed before his time.’ Turgan Bey chuckled. ‘You think for a minute I don’t know that Talwin Hawkins was in your service for over two years? Or that I don’t know he was key to your overthrow? But here you are, in my own keep acting as if you’re casual travellers idling the time away with meaningless card games.’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t say that I hold you in any affection, Kaspar. You’ve always been someone we watched because of all the mischief you caused, but as long as you confined yourself to your own little corner of the world, we didn’t much care. And, to be fair, you’ve always honoured your treaties with Kesh.
‘But as you are no longer ruler of Olasko, certain political niceties need no longer be observed. And since you’re attempting to enter the palace under a false identity, can we safely assume you’re a spy?’
‘You may,’ said Kaspar with a smile. ‘And I have something for you.’ He reached into his tunic and pulled out the black Nighthawk amulet. He slid it across the table to Turgan and waited while the old minister picked it up and examined it.
‘Where did you get this?’
‘From a friend of a friend, who got it from Lord Erik von Darkmoor.’
‘That’s a name to make a Keshian general lose sleep. He’s cost us dearly a couple of times at the border.’
‘Well, if your frontier commanders didn’t get the urge to conquer in the name of their Emperor without instruction from your central authority, you’d have less problems with von Darkmoor.’
‘We don’t necessarily send our brightest officers to the western frontier,’ Turgan Bey sighed. ‘We save those to build up our own factions here in the capital. Politics will be the death of me yet.’ He tapped his finger on the amulet. ‘What do you make of this?’
‘Keshian nobles are dying.’
‘That happens a lot,’ said Turgan Bey with a smile. ‘We have a lot of nobles. You can’t toss a barley cake from a vendor’s cart in the lower city without hitting a noble. Comes from having a vigorous breeding population for several thousand years.’
‘Truebloods are dying, too.’
Turgan Bey lost his smile. ‘That should not have been apparent to von Darkmoor. He must have better spies than I gave him credit for. Now, this still leads me to wonder why the former Duke of Olasko has wandered into my city, into my very palace, to hand me this. Who sent you? Duke Rodoski?’
‘Hardly,’ said Kaspar. ‘My brother-in-law would just as soon see my head adorn the drawbridge leading into his citadel as he would see it across the dinner table. Only his love for my sister keeps it on my shoulders; that and staying far away from Olasko.’
‘Then von Darkmoor sent you?’ said Bey, his brow furrowing.
‘I’ve only met the esteemed Knight-Marshal of Krondor once, some years ago, and then we spoke only for a moment.’
Bey’s gaze narrowed. ‘Who sent you, Kaspar?’
‘One who reminds you that not only enemies hide in shadows,’ said Kaspar.
Turgan Bey stood up and said, ‘Come with me.’
He led Kaspar though a chamber that appeared to be a more comfortable working area with a pair of writing desks for scribes, as well as a large divan chair which could comfortably accommodate him. He motioned Kaspar to step out onto a balcony overlooking a lush garden three storeys below and at last said, ‘Now I can be certain no one is listening.’
‘You don’t trust your own guards?’
‘I do, but when members of the Imperial family, no matter how distantly related they may be, start turning up dead, I don’t trust anyone.’ He glanced at Kaspar. ‘Nakor sent you?’
‘Indirectly,’ said Kaspar.
‘My father told me the story of the first time that crazy Isalani showed up in the palace. He and the Princes Borric and Erland, as well as Lord James – he was a baronet or baron back then I believe – kept the Empress alive and arranged it so that Diigai would sit upon the throne after her by marrying her granddaughter to him. They defended her in the very Imperial throne room! Against murderers who wished to put that fool Awari on the throne. From that day forward my father had a different attitude towards the Kingdom. And he told the story of how Nakor pulled that hawk from his bag and restored the mews here in the palace.’ Leaning back, he added, ‘It was a remarkable day. So you can imagine my surprise the first time Nakor turned up at my father’s estate up in Geansharna – I must have been about fifteen years old.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘That crazy Isalani has been surprising me ever since. I won’t ask how you came to work with him, but if he’s sent you, there must be good reason.’
‘There is. I had in my employ, or so I thought, a magician by the name of Leso Varen. It turns out he was partially to blame for some of my excesses over the last few years before I was exiled.’
Bey began to speak, thought better of it, and Kaspar continued. ‘If at some point you’d care to listen to a detailed appraisal of what I did and why, I’ll burden you with it, but for now suffice it to say that Varen may be at the centre of your current troubles, and if that is true, then there is more at risk than merely a bloodier-than-usual game of Keshian politics.
‘If what Nakor thinks is true, then the entire region may become destabilized and we might see a lot of needless warfare.’
Bey stood motionless for a moment, then said, ‘Who else knows you are here?’
‘Hawkins, of course,’ said Kaspar. ‘Nakor, the men with us, and a few other agents of the Conclave up in the north, but no one here in Kesh besides yourself.’ He thought better of revealing Caleb’s role in this; it was always better to have a few things held back against the risk of being compromised.
‘This is going to be a problem,’ said Turgan Bey. ‘Several of my agents know, and while I like to think they are all above suspicion, history teaches otherwise. So, how do we take this situation and turn it to our advantage?’
‘Political asylum?’
Bey was silent for a while, then he said, ‘That may serve. Then we could not only not worry about your forged documents – I assume they’re the best?’
‘Impeccable.’
‘No one will bother examining them. We can say this all was a ruse to get you safely away from … well, make up a list, Kaspar. There are a lot of people who would love to see you dead.’
‘As much as it pains me,’ said Kaspar, ‘I’m forced to concede that is true.’
‘So, we need a few details to embellish the tale, but let’s say this: despite your brother-in-law’s promises to your sister to spare you, his agents are out and about, seeking to bring you to a quick demise. Fleeing Olasko, you have come to the one place left to you where you might find safe harbour, Great Kesh. Is that about right?’
‘It will bear scrutiny,’ Kaspar conceded. ‘Rodoski is a man of his word, but few will bother to remember that, and I did promise to leave Olasko.’
‘I’ll find someone to sponsor you, Kaspar. It can’t be me. The Master of the Keep is the last vestige of protection the throne has, and if what I suspect is