The Chaoswar Saga: A Kingdom Besieged, A Crown Imperilled, Magician’s End. Raymond E. Feist

boldly at the King’s daughter. And instantly decided he disliked the victor of the contest.

      On the King’s right side stood Crown Prince Constantine, the Heir Apparent to the throne, and the middle son, Prince Albér, the Heir Presumptive. Henry and Tyrone both bowed before the royal family.

      The Master of Ceremonies said, ‘Your majesties, your highnesses, the victor and vanquished of today’s final match. Lord Henry of Crydee, approach.’

      As the first among those who were defeated by the winner, Henry was awarded a miniature silver sword. As he knelt to receive the gift from the hand of the Crown Prince, the King said, ‘Shame to end this way, lad; you’ve acquitted yourself admirably. Still, second is nothing to be ashamed of. Maybe you’ll have better luck in the next tourney.’

      ‘Your majesty is gracious,’ said Henry, accepting the sword and with some discomfort returning to stand next to Swordmaster Phillip.

      ‘We’ll send a healer over to your quarters at the university, and have that … leg seen to. You must be ready for tomorrow’s gala,’ said the King.

      ‘I thank your majesty,’ said Hal, bowing.

      ‘Tyrone Hawkins of Olasko,’ intoned the Master of Ceremonies.

      Ty knelt and the King said, ‘Young Hawkins, I gave the King’s prize to your father many years ago.’ He gave Tal a rueful smile. ‘That was a day we’ll never forget.’

      The bout had ended in the death of two of Tal’s opponents: a trained swordsman from Kesh who had come with one purpose, to kill the young swordsman, and a lieutenant in the army of Olasko who had been among those responsible for the death of most of Tal’s people.

      The King said, ‘So concludes this contest, and we shall gather in five years to see if young Hawkins can continue his family’s achievements. I bid you, good lords, ladies, and gentlemen, a fair day and will welcome many of you to our gala tomorrow night.’

      Everyone who had been seated rose when the King stood, and led his wife and family from the Hall of the Masters’ Court. As Ty turned to find Hal staring at him with a narrowed gaze, a man wended his way though the press of folk leaving the building to come and stand before Tal.

      But it was Hal who spoke first, ‘Lord Jamison!’

      James Dasher Jamison, Baron of the Prince’s Court in Krondor, nodded at the young nobleman and then to Ty and his father. ‘Well, Jim,’ said Tal Hawkins, ‘this is an unexpected pleasure.’

      Lord Jamison, also known as Jim Dasher to some, glanced around the room and said, ‘Unexpected, I warrant, but hardly a pleasure.’ Lowering his voice a little he added, ‘We need to speak in private, Hawkins.’ Then he turned to Hal and said, ‘Don’t wander too far, Hal. I need to speak with you as well.’

      Moving a short distance away from the throng surrounding the victor, Jim said, ‘Tal, I need to ask you a favour.’

      ‘What?’ replied Hawkins. His relationship with Jim Dasher and everyone else associated with the Conclave of Shadows had been a mixed one at best. They had saved his life as a child but exacted a high price in service, and even now, after he had been formally released from their service, they still were a presence in his life. He knew he owed all that he was to them, but there was no tender affection in his sense of obligation.

      ‘I need you to keep a close watch on young conDoin over there.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Something’s coming. I will tell you more tonight, in private.’

      ‘Very well, but how am I to keep watch over him while he’s at the university living in the students’ dormitory?’

      ‘We don’t let him return there.’ Jim glanced over his shoulder at the two young swordsmen and their admirers. ‘Invite him to dine with your family at the River House tonight and I’ll chance by afterwards to have words with you both. Yes, that would serve.’

      ‘Very well, again,’ said Hawkins, nodding his head once, then moving past the dark-eyed Kingdom noble.

      Jim Dasher glanced around the room, trying to discern who might be observing him. If Kesh had agents in the room – which was almost certain – they would be very good at their jobs, which meant that he stood scant chance of identifying them. Still, a moment to scan the room was a little price to pay against the slight chance an agent might make a mistake and reveal himself.

      Or herself, he amended as he caught sight of a young woman staring at him, then averting her eyes a moment later. Jim resisted an impulse to sigh; irrespective of her true intent, she had wished to be noticed, and notice her he had. If she was only an ambitious status-seeker, singling out the slightly older, but still very eligible nobleman from the Kingdom for a possible profitable liaison, or a Keshian spy, he had to find out.

      Relaxing his expression and attempting to appear merely an interested spectator in the day’s events, he appeared to meander through the crowd, but made a straight path towards this woman.

      A brief distraction arrived in the form of Lord Carrington, a minor court baron attached to the Kingdom’s delegation to Roldem, a fussy, officious man with an inflated sense of his ability at diplomacy and a strong appetite for gossip. ‘Lord Jamison!’ he exclaimed, taking Jim’s hand for a brief, limp squeeze.

      ‘My lord,’ said Jim trying not to take his eyes off the beautiful brunette he felt certain was a Keshian spy.

      ‘Pity young Lord Henry didn’t continue,’ said Carrington. ‘Had a bit of gold wagered on him and it would have done wonders for the Isles to have a champion in the Masters’ Court. Still,’ he said glancing over his shoulder to where Ty and Hal still talked to the onlookers, ‘I suppose it’s the next best, what with Hawkins over there claiming some title or another in the west, even though he now resides in Olasko.’

      Sensing a potentially long conversation, Jim said, ‘I’ve known Talwin Hawkins for years, my lord Baron. His title is not “claimed” but his own.’

      ‘Oh?’ Like every other member of the King’s court in Rillanon,

      Carrington wasn’t entirely certain what Jim did for the Crown, but he knew it was important and, besides, his grandfather was still Duke of Rillanon. ‘I see.’

      ‘Somehow I don’t think you do,’ said Jim under his breath, then loudly spoke up. ‘Excuse me, my lord, I must speak to someone over there.’

      Before the portly courtier could reply, Jim was away from him and heading straight towards a large pillar next to which the object of his attention had paused. The woman glanced at Jim, and a small, almost flirtatious smile crossed her lips. Jim wondered if perhaps he had misjudged the woman: perhaps she wasn’t a agent of the Empire but merely a young woman with her eye on a man of position and wealth.

      He reached the pillar a moment after she had passed behind it, and she was nowhere to be seen.

      ‘I’ll be damned,’ Jim muttered, glancing around. He was very good at keeping watch on someone in a crowd, even across a busy market in a big city, but for the moment, he seemed to have met his match. She was better.

• CHAPTER THREE •

       Mysteries

      DINNER HAD BEEN FESTIVE.

      At Tal Hawkins’ request, Hal and Phillip had dined at the River House, a restaurant located in one of the richer districts in the city. Named after the original establishment Hawkins had opened in the city of Olasko years earlier, it enjoyed much the same success and reputation as the original. The food was splendid, the most important personages in the Kingdom came to dine there, and not being a tavern or inn, the dining room was not crowded with travellers, merchants, and foreigners. In other words, the establishment appealed to the worst