Then come back and wash vegetables.”
“I can do that,” said Royce as he picked up his bag and moved to the door.
Will said, “Well, he can’t be any worse helping around here than Anatoli was.”
Tal winced. “Don’t say that. Ruthia listens.”
Will nodded, making a good luck sign at mention of the Goddess of Luck.
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kitchen and quickly adapted to a routine that freed up much of Tal’s time.
Tal utilized this free time wandering the island. He did it by increments, letting Zirga find him outside in the old marshaling yard, inspecting the chickens or pigs; then a month later, when Zirga came upon Tal down in the tiny meadow on the lee side of the island, seeing how the cattle and sheep were doing, Zirga didn’t object.
By the onset of Tal’s third winter, he knew the island as well as he knew the mountains of home. He knew the fastest way to the north beach, where there was a stand of trees containing a hive of bees. He smoked the bees out and robbed their honey the way his grandfather had taught him, and Zirga was inclined to say nothing about his forays as long as the food continued to be wonderful.
None of the guards seemed to notice that Tal had moved two prisoners out of the dungeon, all assuming that Zirga had ordered it, and Zirga never bothered to inspect their quarters. And as far as Tal could see, Zirga assumed everyone was doing just fine until otherwise notified.
Tal had got to know every prisoner well. He had managed at one time or another to bring food personally to each of them. Between the information Will had already provided and his own discussions with the men, Tal had a good idea of what they were capable of.
It was an interesting mix, mostly political prisoners, which gave him a core of five men who were former nobles, like Visniya, men who were familiar with Kaspar’s court or the administration of Olasko. These men Tal was determined to see safely home if possible. They would give him allies once he returned to Opardum, for they all had friends and families still at liberty.
The other thirteen men were common murderers, _______________
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rapists, habitual thieves, and robbers, men who had been condemned to the Fortress of Despair because of some oddity in their case, or because a judge had wished them more suffering than a quick hanging would bring. These men were expendable to Tal, but at the start he would need strong and ruthless men if any of them were to survive.
So Tal was doing his best to keep everyone alive. He organized excuses to get prisoners out of their cells, such as the honey raid, or to clean away deadwood from the cattle meadow, or to chop firewood for the coming winter. Everyone got some exercise and much-needed sunshine and fresh air. He even convinced Zirga to allow the men to gather in the courtyard for a small celebration on Midsummer’s Day, Banapis. Several men wept openly at the day spent outside and the food on the table.
None of these men would be fit for combat when he mounted his escape, and some would die along the way.
But he was going to ensure they would survive as long as possible.
One night, as autumn approached, Will sat at the small table in the kitchen with Tal. He said, “I talked to Donal today.”
“How is he?”
“The coughin’ has stopped. He thanks you for that tea you sent ’im.”
“It’s an old family recipe,” said Tal.
“You know, these men would die for you, Tal.”
Tal nodded.
“You’ve given them hope.”
Tal was silent, then said, “I pray that’s not a cruelty.”
“Me, too.” Will was silent as he chewed on a piece of ham. After he swallowed, he said, “You remember when we first met?”
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Tal nodded.
“You said I was ‘uncommonly cheerful for a man condemned to live his life on this rock.’ Remember?”
Tal nodded again.
“Back then, I had nothin’ to lose. Now I find I’m not so happy, if’n you take my meaning.”
“I do,” said Tal. “Now you feel as if you have something to lose.”
“Ya,” said Will. “I feel like I got somethin’ to lose.”
“Hope.”
“Hope,” Will agreed. “So, let me cut right to it. When we goin’ to escape?”
Tal was silent a moment, then said, “Next spring. I don’t know when exactly, but it’ll be the day after the next ship puts in.”
“We goin’ to boost a ship?”
“No,” said Tal. “The men here are fitter than they were when I got here, but they’re no match for Zirga’s four guards and a shipful of healthy sailors.
“But there’s a reason I want to go the day after the next ship puts in, and I’ll tell you about it when it’s time.”
“And that’ll be . . . ?”
Tal grinned. “The day the first ship puts in next spring.”
Will sighed, and resigned himself to having to wait another six months. After all, he’d already waited twelve years. What was another half year?
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ESCAPE
Tal watched.
The ship lay off the point and Zirga and two guards, Anatoli and Kyle as always, waited to see if a new prisoner was being delivered. Tal observed from the entrance to the keep, hanging back in the shadows. Will stood behind him, also watching.
The longboat rowed from the ship to the dock, and Tal saw a prisoner sitting in the center of the boat. As was the case when Tal arrived, the sailors were efficient in getting the prisoner off the boat and up the ladder. As was the case when Tal arrived, Zirga didn’t bother reading the writ on the docks, but directed the prisoner to follow him up the hill to the keep.
Tal felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. There was something very familiar about the prisoner, about the way he moved and carried himself. Before the man’s fea-
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tures became clear, Tal was stepping back and saying to Will, “Follow me.”
Will hurried along as Tal returned to the kitchen.
When they reached the kitchen, they found Royce asleep in a chair, head on the table, an empty brandy bottle lying next to him. One of Tal’s discoveries was that the ancient wine cellar of whatever noble had built this keep was in-tact, and while most of the wine still down there was long past being drinkable, there was an ample supply of spirits that hadn’t gone bad. Tal had also discovered that Royce was very manageable if Tal let him get drunk once or twice a week.
Tal looked around and Will softly said, “What is it?”
“The new prisoner, I know him,” whispered Tal.
“Who is he?”
Tal looked thoughtful. “Someone I never expected to see again, unless I was running him through with my sword. He’s Quentin Havrevulen, Duke Kaspar’s Special Captain.”
“You mean he was Kaspar’s Special Captain.”
“Apparently.” Tal thought. “Don’t talk to him when you take him his first meal. Just deliver it and see how he acts. I need to know if he’s really a prisoner here or if this is another of Kaspar’s schemes.”
“Why would the Duke exile his senior captain here?”
“That’s what I intend to find out,” said Tal, “but only when I’m ready.”
“We still go tomorrow?”
Tal had to decide quickly. Tal said, “Yes. We go tomorrow, but tell no one. I know exactly what it is I wish to do, and I don’t want anyone tipping our hand before it’s time.”
Will nodded. “I’ll do exactly what you say, Tal.”
Tal said, “So, let’s get back to making supper.”
Will said, “With luck
, our last one on this rock.”
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__
Royce finished his meal and yawned. “Think I’ll turn in.”
Tal said nothing, but nodded. When Royce’s door closed, Tal picked up his water cup and wooden spoon, put them on his plate, and carried them over to a big sink.
Will followed suit. When they were as far away from Royce’s door as possible, Tal said, “What do you think of our new prisoner?”
“If he’s workin’ for Kaspar, he missed his callin’, Tal.
He should’a been an actor. He’s no agent; I’ll wager my life on it. He’s got that look.”
Tal knew what Will meant. It was an expression of shock and disbelief, a sense that somehow a horrible mistake had been made. Only the hardened criminals didn’t have it. Seven prisoners had arrived since Tal, although four had died, despite Tal’s attempts to help. Three had simply not had the will to survive, and the fourth had suffered a gash on his hip that had turned putrid before it had been treated.
Zirga thought nothing of this, but to Tal every man lost was a lessening of his chance of survival. Still, he had a net gain of three men since he had formulated his plan, and those who had died would most likely have been among the first to fall after reaching the mainland.
Now Tal wrestled with what to do with Havrevulen.
He would eventually see the man dead, and nothing would please him more than to leave him here with Zirga and the guards, except the risk that somehow Quint would turn that to his advantage and find a way to gain Kaspar’s forgiveness.
Even the slightest possibility that Havrevulen might somehow survive forced Tal to one of two choices: either kill him outright before they fled the island or take him _______________
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with them. There was no alternative but to talk to the man.
Tal waited until Zirga and the guards were asleep, then woke Will. “One man at a time, have the prisoners come to the armory. Tell them to keep quiet until I get there.”
“Where are you going?”
“To speak with our newest guest.”
Will and Tal parted company on the first landing of the keep, as Will continued going upward and Tal found Quint’s cell. Tal carried a kitchen knife under his tunic and made sure he could quickly reach it before he lifted the latch to Quint’s cell door.
Quint came awake as Tal entered. “Who is it?”
Tal stood in the gloom, his feature’s hidden. “Tal Hawkins,” he said quietly.
Quint rolled over and sat up on the straw pallet, his back against the wall. “How’d you find me?”
“You’ll find things are lax around here, and if you know how, you can wrangle a few privileges.”
“Hmm,” said Quint noncommittally.
Tal said, “What happened?”
Quint made a sound halfway between a grunt and laugh. “Failure is what happened. You know Kaspar when it comes to failure.”
Tal knelt, keeping his hand on the knife’s handle.
“Tell me.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m curious, and because I might be able to help.”
“Help? How?”
“I run the kitchen. If nothing else, I can make sure you get enough to eat.”
Quint’s expression was hard to read in the gloom, but _______________
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Tal sensed he was considering this. “What have I to lose?”
he said at last. “I’m not going anywhere. All right, I’ll tell you.
“Kaspar is not given to patience. After you didn’t kill Duke Rodoski, I was sent on a mission, and I failed. Kaspar was not interested in my excuses, and here I am.”
Tal was silent for a moment, as if thinking, then said,
“You were his senior officer, his Special Captain, Quint.
You commanded his entire army. It must have been a critical mission.”
“It was. I took a company of men dressed as bandits into the Mountains of Aranor. Intelligence told us that the Prince and his family were en route to their palace at Lake Shenan, to enjoy spring in the mountains. We were supposed to fall on the camp, overpower the guards, and kill the royal family.”
“Why?” said Tal in surprise. “Phillip has always been Kaspar’s lapdog, and Kaspar keeps him on a short leash.
He’s no threat. So why kill him?”
Quint shrugged, the gesture almost lost in the gloom.
“I don’t know. Kaspar’s been doing unpredictable things as long as I’ve been in his service, but lately . . . they border on the insane. He spends more and more time with that wizard and . . . I don’t know.
“Somehow Aranor’s men knew we were coming, or they just decided at the last moment to send out a much larger company of guards, but for whatever reason, while Prince Phillip was killed, Princess Alena fled to safety, to Opast, then on to the Isles. Now she and her sons are in Rillanon and both the Isles and Roldem are threatening Kaspar.”
Tal was silent again. After he thought about it, he said,
“Kaspar must have a traitor in his service, if they knew it was his men behind the attack.”
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“I think so. Your man Amafi rose quickly after betraying you. Kaspar sent him out on one errand after another.
At the start, I thought him a useful tool, but he is more than that.”
“Much more than a tool. He’s a practiced assassin.”
“Kaspar’s plan was simple at first: to put himself in line for the throne of Roldem, then engineer a tragedy that would end King Carol’s life along with his entire family at once; a ship sinking while they were all aboard would have been ideal.
“But things began to go wrong, starting with your failure to kill Duke Rodoski.”
Tal laughed. “That was Kaspar’s doing, didn’t you know?”
“No,” said Quint quietly. “I had no idea.”
Tal explained how he was to have been sacrificed while Prohaska carried out the actual murder. When he had finished, Havrevulen said, “We were told that you had been discovered and that you gave up Prohaska, and that’s why Kaspar sent you here.” Softly he added, “Prohaska was a friend; I would have happily murdered you myself when I heard you betrayed him, Tal.” He shook his head in the gloom. “To find out it was Kaspar . . .”
“Maybe not. In all of this, there’s another hand at play.”
“I see that now. In the last two years Kaspar has asked me to draw up plans for several contingencies. Each time, after reviewing them, he rejected my plans and adopted plans that can only be called . . . strange.”
Tal considered his options. He had no desire to see Quint live one moment longer than necessary, but he also recognized him as a potential ally, if only for the short term. He had just arrived, so he hadn’t suffered any debil-itation from his imprisonment, and Tal knew he was a _______________
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skilled swordsman, an experienced officer, and as cold-blooded as anyone he had met. He would be an asset during the escape. If he could be trusted.
Tal decided to explore a bit more.
“I suspect this Leso Varen’s hands may be on this.”
“Probably. Kaspar has been becoming increasingly dependent upon him, spending more and more time in that abattoir Varen calls home.” Quint was quiet for a moment, then he said, “I’m a soldier, Tal. I don’t claim to be a . . . deep thinker. I’m a very good soldier, which is why I rose so high, but this is all beyond anything I have ever seen . . . it’s beyond what I can imagine.
“I know we’ve never been . . . friends. I’ve sensed something between us since you first appeared. I even wondered if Campaneal’s death in the Tournament of Champions was an accident or if you meant for him to die. And I never liked the way Natalia took to you.
&n
bsp; “I guess what it is I’m trying to say is that fate has put us here together, so I see no reason for us to be at odds.
After all, we’re both going to be here a very long time, and neither of us needs more enemies.”
Tal stood up. “Not that long.”
“What do you mean?” asked Quint.
“Come with me,” said Tal, pushing open the door.
Quint followed him, and the two men moved quietly through the keep, past the guards’ room, where Kyle lay sleeping on the floor, rather than sitting at his post. Once they were in the bowels of the keep, Tal said, “Zirga counts on the island preventing our escape.”
“You’re planning an escape?”
“No, we’re escaping, right now.”
Reaching the armory, Tal found all but three of the prisoners waiting, and a moment later, Will, Masterson, and a man named Jenkins appeared with a single lantern.
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Tal spoke in a whisper. “I doubt anyone can hear us, but let’s err on the side of caution.”
“What are we doing?” asked one man.
“Escaping. I will tell you my plan. There is no debate.
If you come with me, you follow orders, without question.
If you won’t, you stay behind with Zirga and the guards.
Is that understood?”
Every man nodded or muttered agreement.
Tal said, “Put on as much clothing as you can comfortably wear. You will be wet and cold before we are through.” Tal turned up the wick on the lantern, and the room was illuminated. He pointed to a large pile of clothing in the corner.
Most men threw off their filthy rags and put on two or three pairs of trousers, and multiple shirts. “In those chests are boots. Try to find a pair that fits.”
In less than ten minutes, the men stood dressed, and every man wore sturdy boots. Tal said, “Weapons,” and indicated the racks behind the men.
All the political prisoners, as well as Captain Quint, picked swords. The others picked cutlasses, falchions, and short swords. Masterson, the huge murderer, favored a large ax, and Tal considered he could probably cut a man in half with it.
Will found a pair of shoulder belts with loops for daggers and put it on, then filled the loops with six or seven blades. Tal chose a rapier, and a baldric with scabbard he could set on his right hip. He said to Quint, “I wish I had practiced more with my left hand back at Masters’ Court.”
King of Foxes Page 24
