Conclave 2 - King of Foxes by Raymond E Feist

Author:Raymond E Feist [Raymond E Feist]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-08-05T23:00:00+00:00

She looked at him and grinned. ‘Well said. Now, before you flee, tell me, did you sleep with Princess Svetlana before you killed her?’

Suddenly Tal knew that here was the other side of Natalia, the cold, calculating, vicious side. ‘M’lady?’

Natalia laughed. ‘Not to worry, Tal. Kaspar has told me little, but I know enough to see clues and draw conclusions. You may leave me now.’

Tal bowed and hurried out. The morning staff were busy in the citadel, hurrying about their business, less than an hour before the Duke’s retinue would be up and asking for their morning meals.

He slipped into his own quarters and found Amafi already awake, with a change of clothing waiting should Tal require it. Tal motioned towards the tub. It was steaming, so Tal knew it had just been refilled. He smelled of Natalia and her perfume, and knew that would bring raised eyebrows should he get too close to the other members of the court today.

As he slipped into the water, he said to Amafi, ‘Should I ever forget, please feel free to remind me that Natalia is every bit as dangerous in her own way as her brother.’

Amafi motioned for Tal to lean forward so he could scrub his master’s back. ‘No, Magnificence, she is / more / dangerous.’

Tal couldn’t think of any reason to argue.

Tal looked up as Amafi came into the room. He was covered in what appeared to be blood. ‘Gods, what happened?’

‘Something extraordinary, Magnificence. Put on simple clothing, quickly.’

It was almost midnight and Tal had just returned from a late supper with Kaspar and some other members of the court. The meal had turned into an after-dinner bout of drinking and storytelling with no one but Natalia leaving the table for hours. She had excused herself, claiming fatigue, and with one quick glance had communicated her frustration to Tal. With an equally quick shrug and tilt of his head, he had responded that that there was nothing that could be done, and he would have to visit her some other time.

Tal changed into a tunic and leggins he wore for exercising in the marshalling yard.

‘The boots will not do,’ said Amafi.

‘I have nothing plainer.’

‘Then come barefoot.’

As Tal stood, Amafi came over with a handful of ashes from the fireplace. These he rubbed across Tal’s face and into his hair. ‘Magnificence, try to look like a lowly peasant, and perhaps we will both live through this night.’ Then he rubbed some blood off his tunic and onto Tal’s tunic and face.

Tal followed as the former assassin led him straight to the wing of the citadel used by Leso Varen. As he neared the wizard’s quarters, what he saw would have caused him to falter, had he not had a strong stomach.

Servants, all of them ashen-faced and many trying not to be sick, were carrying bodies out of the wizard’s apartment. Mixed among the servants were faces Tal did not recognize, perhaps workers from the city. Someone shouted, ‘You two!’ pointing at them.

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